Broken String

LXXI

The evening glides by easily, courtesy of a belly full of chocolate orb and Todd's cooking, of D&D and then the sound of Brett, practising Tchaikovsky in his bedroom. It's normalcy already, this, and he can feel himself relaxing, gradually throwing off the emotions of the afternoon as if auditoriums don't exist. He sits on the couch and tries to stay in this relaxed vibe as Todd and Ian do the dishes. He'll be okay, just as long as he doesn't think about tomorrow.
Tomorrow, when he has to go to... but no. No. He's not thinking about that.

"You have the scan tomorrow, right?" Todd suddenly interrupts his thoughts, washing away the relaxed vibe with the dishwater he's draining from the sink. 
"Um. Yes. I was trying not to think about that." he says sullenly, then instantly feeling like a jackass for reacting like that. Look, Todd is only trying to help.
"Oh. I'm sorry."
"No, It's fine. I'm sorry. Yes, I have the scan. At ten, but I have to be there earlier for more blood tests."
 Yay. More needles stuck in him, more vials of blood taken and put in a machine to whirr up and down. More time to wait among the sick and injured in a dirty yellow building he already hates with a passion. 
"I'm just not really looking forward to it." he admits quietly. 
"I get that, bro. I'm sorry I mentioned it. I'm making hot chocolate. Want some?"
"That sounds awesome! Thanks, Todd."

He watches his great friend as he moves around the kitchen as if it's his domain, juggling pans, bottles of milk and tins of cocoa like a pro. 
"Whipped cream?" Todd asks over his shoulder.
"I really am going to get fat." Eddy grins. "Yes, please."
Todd turns around. 
"Nah. Soon you'll be running again and it'll fall off you."
Eddy sees the tenseness in Todd's eyes. So he acquiesces. 
"Yeah. I hope."

The chocolate is delicious, of course, and just what he needed right now. Because there are butterflies in his stomach, and he's not sure why. The scan? Or... 
"Right. I think that should do me." Brett says behind him as he walks in the room, sans violin, interrupting his thoughts. "Oh, what's that? Is there any left?"
Todd picks up the mug he put on the work surface a minute ago.
"Of course. Whipped cream?"

It should be easy, but it isn't anymore. The chocolate is long gone now, taking its soothe with it, leaving only butterflies and tension in its wake. And Brett must have heard his sigh because he turns and eyes him with concern. 
"You good? Bed? Or shower? I'm beat."
"Um. I'd rather shower tomorrow after the stupid hospital."
"Okay, sure."
Eddy takes a deep breath. Look, he would sit here forever with his friends, but he can't, because Brett is obviously tired. And the night will be long, he can feel that already, because anxiety is flooding in from everywhere, invading him, insidious, insistent. 
Is this just because of the hospital? Or...
"Let's just get to bed?" he says then.
"Okay." Brett gets up and puts both their mugs in the dishwasher. "Thanks for that, Toddy, it tasted great. You kids have a good night, now."
Todd grins. 
"Yes, mum."

Ten minutes later Brett closes the door behind them both.
"Are you okay, Eddy? Worried, about tomorrow?"
It's just them, now. Their teeth are brushed and Brett is grabbing Eddy's pyjamas, ready for him to slip into. And what can he say? Yes, he's nervous about tomorrow, but he can't deny there's something else. He eyes the bed, where they did... that last night. And Brett has seemed fine, but yet nobody has talked about it. Is he really that laid back? Or does he feel ambivalent, sleeping here again now? And what can he even say to him?
"Yeah, a little." he lies.  "I know that's stupid." 
"It's not. It decides a lot."
Brett holds out his arm so Eddy can swing himself on the bed and get dressed for bed. He feels a little weird, suddenly, taking his shirt off. He slips into his pyjama top quickly. 
"Can you get my belt?"
"Yep, hang on."
Something shivers in Eddy as Brett's hands tug at the belt, his nimble fingers opening his button. The images from last night flash through his brain and he can't stop them. 
God, that was nice. 
He manages to smile at his best friend and tugs his jeans down, putting on his bottoms as quickly as he can. 
Would Brett do that again? Some point? He wasn't repulsed by him, was he? 
Brett turns and flicks the overhead light off on his way out of the bedroom.
"Right. Give me two minutes."