Broken String

XCVII

It takes Todd one glance, just one, and he has to struggle to keep his face in check. 
Oh, my God. Afterglow, it's clear, clear afterglow. And their lips... all plump, maybe a bit of red?
Slight stubble does that to lips when you kiss someone hard enough, you now. 
He manages not to grin as he steps into the apartment and puts his cello down. 
Wait. Did they... do that on the couch? Judging from their rosy faces clearly a lot further than kissing? Should he tell them that they're definitely not the first all-boy couple to do that there?
"All good here?" he manages to ask quite neutrally, his tongue literally in his cheek, and waits to see what they will tell him.
"Yep, fine. It was nice, with John." Eddy says. "Um, Brett, could you make some green tea? Or grab some water?"
"Oh hang on, I'll do it." Todd interjects. Because just look at them, adorable, post-coital bliss. He's not about to break that up, is he? Let them sit there and bask. "I'm going to cook anyway. I just need the toilet, give me one second."
"You sure you trust him to make tea after that?" Ian quips as he too walks into the room and puts his viola case down. 
"Fuck you, baby, I know how soap works." he calls over his shoulder, on his way to the bathroom. Ian's laughter floods over him as he closes the living room door behind him with an incredulous smile and leans against the other side. He doesn't need the toilet that badly, really, but he very much does need a few seconds to get a grip on his face. 
Whoa. So they actually got round to that. 
Finally. 
And it looks like it went well, too. 

Does Ian see it too? He walks back into the living room to see his love setting up his laptop at the kitchen table, very likely for this assignment he has due in a couple of days. He's not sure if he does, he knows how focused Ian gets on school work. He walks over to the kitchen and puts on the kettle as he glances back at his friends who are still there, side by side, but clearly they'd prefer to be closer. 
Should he tell them that he doesn't care if they are? Probably not. 
It fills him with joy, though. They clearly made a step, today, and he didn't even have to play Cupid.
Wait. Did John play Cupid? 
He busies himself with rice, vegetables and eggs. Look, he knows he'll never live up to the discerning Asian palates of the boys behind him but he tries, and they like his rice. And he likes cooking it.
"About half an hour until dinner, people." he calls. 

He corners Brett in the hallway to the bedrooms after dinner, just as he comes out with his violin case in hand. Everyone is getting ready to practise, and nobody had to say a word to know that Brett would be in the living room with Eddy.
"So. Was that good?" he asks, quietly enough so his voice won't carry through the closed door. 
Brett looks up at him with earnest, huge eyes, burning with something new, not even bothering to hide anything.
"Ha. You saw that. You can't even imagine how good, Toddy. Jesus. I'm..."
Todd smiles at him encouragingly.
"Falling in love."
Brett nods.
"Yeah. I am. Oh God. I can't believe I am."
"I'm guessing neither can he."
"Um. Yeah, maybe. I don't know. I told him we'll talk when he's better. You know... after. He asked whether we should."
 Todd smiles.
"Let's face it, it's not always the talking that's most important."
Brett grins and glances towards the living room where Eddy is waiting for him on the couch. He's clearly ready to get going, clearly reluctant to leave Eddy on his own. 
How lovely. 
"Yeah." Brett tells him quietly. "Right now I'd say it's definitely not the talking that's most important."