We don't want to label it

IX

"Hey, how was rehearsal?"
Brett is there, in a brown button down shirt at the small table they both like in the corner by the window. He's looking... wait. Is he looking awkward? Why?
"Good." He smiles at Brett, a real smile this time, then sits down across from him and crosses his legs. Brett must have ordered already, because a waiter is approaching them with bowls of food and puts them on the table with a practised swirl. "Oh wow! Timing! Anyway. Yeah. Prok is great."
"Orchestra politics great too?" Brett asks him innocently. Eddy kicks him under the table, then smiles at the retreating waiter and picks up his chopsticks.
"Shut up. I'm not talking about that right now, this rice is too good, I'll need all my brain power for that. How about you? You said you had news?"
He can see him holding his breath, and in fact... wait. Is that his pulse rate, flittering around his neck like the wings of a butterfly on speed? Wait. What the hell is he planning? The bite of rice hovers on the chopsticks, halfway between bowl and mouth. "Brett. What the hell?"
"Um." Brett looks down into his soup with the dumplings they both love. In fact, Eddy knows already he's going to steal one in just a minute. Not now, though, because now his heart is in his throat, obstructing the way down.
"Right." Brett says quietly, the atmosphere around them changing subtly until it's almost like he's letting him into a secret. "I was talking to this guy, right? Just happened upon him through orchestra. He does a lot of arranging of concerts and shit. Anyway. You know how we did that show, yeah?"
"What, the twoset one?"
"Yeah." Brett looks down at his lap, then slightly away from him through the window as if he's trying to see what the world outside is doing. Eddy knows him better than that though. He's nervous. Which is stupid, it's only him. "Um. I was thinking maybe we could... travel with it?" Brett says then. "You know, with the show?"
Okay, so now it's Eddy's turn to stop breathing. He puts his hand on Brett's to force him to look at him. The dark brown spot in Brett's eyes seems to float, almost like it's imploring him.
"What, you mean like... go on tour? As Twoset?" Eddy says breathily.
"Yeah. Um." Brett shrugs like it's nothing, but the brown spot has long since given away what it means to him. "I dunno. Could be fun?"
"Well, yeah! Of course it would be fun! You must know that I'm game for anything, but... that guy knows something about that shit you think?"
"Maybe." he shrugs again. "I dunno. I wanted to talk to you before I said anything to him. I can ask what options he has?"

And look. Eddy can see it now, as he looks out at the street, the images overlaying themselves over Brisbane traffic. Them, on stage, in Europe and America. Could be fun? Is Brett kidding here?
"Yeah! I mean, Jesus. That would be... fucking great. Yeah, ask him. Do I need to be there?"
"Nah, I'll talk to him." Brett's voice is all neutral of course, you'd have to know him very well to hear the relief in it. "I'll let you know tonight. We're playing games with Todd and Ian at yours', right?"
Eddy puts the bite of rice that's been hovering into his mouth at last and chews it thoughtfully, but his heart is still racing. Look, he should stay calm about this. It's likely to never happen.
But the tiniest thought presses up at him insipidly.
Because what if it does?
"Yeah. Smash bros at eight." He swallows his bite of rice as if they've just been talking about the weather, then swipes one of Brett's dumplings and sticks it into his mouth next. It's divine, of course. Brett grins and swipes some of his rice in turn and nods appreciatively as he chews.

But what if it does?