Straight

XV

He wakes up before he's ready to. He burrowes himself a bit deeper into the pillow, tries to get back to sleep, but it's too cold. It's too empty, too. He openes his eyes with a shock and sees Brett is not there. 
He sits up and looks around the room. Nothing. Then he shakes his head at himself. 
What the fuck is wrong with him? Brett's probably just gone for a run, like he often does. Or he's gone to buy bread from the shop on the corner. He always wakes up on time, even when he's had a late night. What's the big deal?
He lets himself fall back into the pillow and blinks at the ceiling. 
Yeah, what is the big deal? 
He shakes his head again and gets up. No way he's going back to sleep now, he knows that. And they have a concert to go to at the con later. 
Great. 
As he pulls on his shirt Brett comes to the door in sweats, his face red, his hair in streaks. 
"Ah, you're awake. I thought you'd still be out."
Eddy shakes his head. 
"Nah, I woke up, couldn't sleep anymore. 
Look, what's he going to say? I woke up because the bed was cold and empty? Yeah, because that would be a smart thing to say to your best friend, right?
Brett nodds. 
"Wanna go out and have breakfast, some good coffee? I'll take a quick shower. 
"Sure."

Eddy gets dressed, sits on the couch and tries to study for some music theory thing next week. Nothing's sinking in, though. 
Last night was nice. Too nice. Way too nice, he knows now. 
What the fuck is he even going to say to Brett? But the second Brett walks into the room in a towel, just the way he always does, at ease, normal; he knows. He sees it in everything, in his stance, in his eyes. He knows what Brett wants him to do. 
Just be normal. They can do this. 
He casts his eyes down at the papers in his hands as Brett gets dressed. He can't help the little glance, though. Brett has put on some jeans and is selecting a shirt from his wardrobe. His back is still slightly moist, with little beads of shower water glistening in the light, or maybe it's a little new sweat? Eddy looks down again quickly, and a second later Brett is dressed. 
"You comin'?"
"Yeah, I'm starving."

They've been at this cafe a million times. He even knows what Brett is going to order. He knows how they make a little leaf or heart in the coffee he orders. But somehow everything is different. 
Can people see, when they look at them? Do they watch them, thinking they must have seen each other come, last night? Spent the night cuddling? Or are they just two mates to the world, the way they always have been? 
Is Brett his best mate to him, the way he always has been?
He shakes his head and looks up with a smile. He just has to make sure he is. 
He knows he was hungry when he came here, and he's paid for this food, but suddenly it feels hard to eat. Like there is a knot in his throat, somewhere, that he has to swallow past. 
"You feel like the concert this afternoon?" Brett asks, his tone almost beige. Maybe white. 
"Yeah, sure. Hope I can stay awake, though."
Brett grins. 
"You gotta learn to sleep, mate."
Eddy looks up and almost laughs at how normal Brett looks. 
Does he really feel that normal? Is all of this coming easy to him? Or is he just really good at hiding it? 
Why does he suddenly hope it's the latter? 
"I know." he says in the same way. "Maybe you should buy a rubber hammer you can knock me out with."
"Remind me to go past the hardware store on our way to the con."

They eat, they banter. They're back on safe ground. For now.