Broken String

LII

Five minutes later his teeth are brushed and his bladder is relaxed, and Brett is helping him into his bed. Eddy shivers softly against the chill that still surrounds him and grits his teeth.
Look. He knows very well what he wants to happen now. He also knows he can't ask. Not again. No way. He can't be this dependent on Brett. It's simply not fair, no matter how many times Brett tells him that it's fine.
Because it's not.
He'll have to survive this night on his own, he simply has to, no matter how fast his breathing gets or how many fists try to break his heart. So he braces himself to say goodnight, just casually, offhandedly, like a normal person would, but before he even has a chance to open his mouth to Brett turns to him, just as he clicks the overhead light by the door off, leaving the small light on the night stand to illuminate the room in soft hues of orange and beige.
"I'll be two secs."
Wait, what? Eddy is too confused to answer straight away. What does he mean, he'll be two secs? But before he can ask Brett is already gliding out of the room, closing the door gently behind him and Eddy lies in the semi-dark, trying his best not to think, trying to stay calm. He should just think of the park and how nice it was there, instead of what Brett means with his two secs, instead of wondering what he is planning. In fact, he should think of the park the whole time until he manages to sleep. Anything to stop him falling back into the abyss he's just climbed out of.
The fist doesn't agree, though. He sees the shadow on the wall opposite before he feels it nearing in the dim glow of the night stand light. Oh, God, no, not this again, but then, just as the fist is coming ever closer - he can feel it coming, he can feel it closing in on his heart, ready to pounce on it and squeeze out any last drops of blood that may be in it still - the door opens again and Brett walks in in his pyjamas. He smiles at him, takes his glasses off and slips into bed with him without a word.

The relief that washes over Eddy is ridiculous in proportion. It's like a tsunami but the good kind, crashing into him, throwing fists into oblivion, slowing down the breathing that had already started to accelerate again, starting to calm his pounding heart.
"Are you sure this is okay?" he asks after several deep, gulpy breaths, so hoarsely he can barely hear himself. Because he knows it will kill him now if Brett says no, he'd rather go to his own room.
"Are you kidding me?" Brett's deadpan voice comes. He turns slightly and flicks the light switch off, flicking any shadows that could still be lurking out of the room with it. "Unless you want me gone, of course. You thought I'd leave you like that?"
Eddy's lip quivers and tears leak out of the corners of his eyes again. It doesn't matter though, the light is off and Brett won't see. So he turns on a whim and puts his head on Brett's shoulder, resting his sore right arm around his best friend's torso. He's getting warm again now, Brett's warmth and the quilt pushing out the chill from the park.
"Thank you." he whispers. 
"Don't mention it. Just sleep, yeah?"
"You... you don't mind?"
"What, you sleeping in your bed at one thirty A.M.? Nah, I think that should be allowed."
Eddy snorts and punches him softly in the arm. 
"You know what I mean."
He can feel the tiny shrug under his cheek. He can hear Brett's heart, too, beating under the soft fabric of his t shirt. Strong. Calm. Like the man himself. It seems to spur his own heart on to take the same rhythm, ensemble playing at its best. Eddy takes a deep breath, because he can again, now. 

Brett moves slightly then, causing Eddy to look up. His eyes are acclimatising to the dark and he can see Brett's eyes in the dusk, impossibly large, almost sombre, but mild. Kind. 
"Yes. I do know. I don't mind." Brett whispers. "There's nowhere I'd rather be, okay? Just imagine if the roles were reversed."
And he does see it, because Brett said, in a movie-like flash. What if it were Brett, in this bed, small, in pain, in despair? Would he go to his own room and leave him be? 
No way, no way would he leave his best friend alone if he was ever feeling like this. No way, never. He'd sooner break his bow than leave him. So he nods and puts his head back down. And you know what, some of the quiet of the park seems to have followed them in here in the end, now that the fist is well gone and his heart rate is starting to match Brett's. 
"I love you, man." he says.
He's said those words to him before, of course he has. But he's never felt them stronger than tonight. 
Does he sense an answering smile though, on Brett's face? He can't lift his head up to check, it would be weird. 
"You too, bro." Brett breathes then. 

It's late, of course, and only now that the world is calm again and the tears have dried does he realise how tired he is, so closing his eyes is easy now, and he drifts away into oblivion before he knows it.