Straight

I

Brett sits still, tries to focus on the film. It's a good film, too, and it really shouldn't be this hard to focus. But everytime he tries his mind goes back to last night. 
The bar. People everywhere, which he likes. A lot. Eddy, talking to this girl, Vanessa. She was all over him, her hands on his hips, gyrating provocotively. She clearly liked him. 
Eddy clearly liked her back. 
Fuck, it had been hard not to burst into tears on the spot, and he had wanted to kick himself. 
He knew what the deal was, right? Eddy's straight, one hundred percent. And he had no idea, none at all, that Brett isn't. 
How could he? He's never said a word. Never needed to. Never could. What point would it have? It would just destroy what they have, which is a friendship better than most people get in their lives. 
He should just be happy with what he has. 
But it got to him, seeing Eddy dance like that with that girl, the girl he wanted to punch in the face, and what did she ever do to him? He kept glancing at them out of the corner of his eye while they kissed, and fuck him if he could help himself. 
Fuck him if he didn't picture himself in her place. 
He takes a deep breath and tries to shake the memories. Because he's here now, right? 

It's the smallest movement, next to him, that alerts him. Eddy isn't watching either. In fact, he's looking away, and Brett can't help but notice the tent in Eddy's sweat shorts. 
And he wants to get up, wants to run out, because he knows why. He's thinking about her, right? He clears his throat and decides to be lighthearted. 
"Bro, you good?" he asks. Looks down once, pointedly, to show Eddy he's seen. To put him at ease, to tell him it's fine. 
Putting Eddy at ease is the most important thing in the world. 
Eddy seems to deliberate for a second, then shakes his head. 
"Yeah. I just need to get laid."
Something rings inside Brett's brain, and he glances down at Eddy's dick again. Oh, it's so beautiful. He's seen it before, of course. He's seen him wank as well, many times. He's not looked, really, he's been respectful. Always respectful. But it would take a blind man not to see how gorgeous it is, how big and bold and straight. 
"You got closer last night, right?" he says, his voice so neutral he impresses himself.
Eddy nods.
"Yeah. I cupped her tit. God, it was good. I just wish I could have taken it further. Don't know if she wants to though."
"Has she texted you?"
"No."

Making Eddy happy is the most important thing in the world. And if that happiness is with Vanessa? Look. He's long since made his peace with this, right? That there would be a girl, one day, who would take his heart, would take him away? He swallows and looks forward again.
"Look." he says. "Just wank, you know I don't care."
Eddy shrugs.
"I know. I just... I just want to know what it's like when it's not my own hand, you know?"