We don't want to label it

X

"Eddy, where the hell are your controllers?"
Eddy grins from the kitchen, where he is just ordering bubble teas. Todd is by his TV shelf, his blonde beach boy curls swaying from side to side as he shakes his head.
"Drawer, Todd. On the right."
He doesn't tell Todd that he put them away because Tory doesn't particularly like gaming; it's true that usually they're right there, on the shelf. Todd shrugs and his hand hovers on the handle of said drawer, blue eyes twinkling, his right eyebrow raising itself subtly.
"Sure I'm not going to find your S&M toy collection here, Eddy boy?"
Brett snorts loudly. 
"I think you've got him confused with your mother there, Todd."
"Toy collection's in the basement, drawer isn't big enough." Eddy quips, just as Todd flicks Brett a single, meaningful finger. He moves past his great friend and his finger and drags the drawer open for him. "Here you go. Controllers."
"You don't have a basement, Eddy." Ian states from the couch in his calm, violist tone. He's settled himself with a beer and looks around in amusement. 
"Not that you know of, anyway." Eddy fires back and everyone is laughing. Eddy takes a deep breath and falls on the couch next to Ian with the controller he picked up. He can feel himself relaxing. 
Games. Beer. Jokes. What more does a guy need? He starts up the game and takes another deep breath. 

He's just on his second beer, watching Ian try to throw Brett off a platform, when his phone vibrates in his pocket. He fishes it out and his heart skips a small beat. 
Tory. 
He raises his index finger and gets up to walk to the bedroom. 
"Hey! How are you?"
"I'm okay." she says quietly. "Um. Yeah. I'm okay."
He stops in his tracks, then sits down on his bed. Clearly she's not okay. That much he gets. But...
"Are you sure? Um. What are you doing? Wanna come over?"
"No, I'm okay." 
Eddy crosses his legs and rubs his forehead with his free hand. There is a right thing and a wrong thing to say here, he's sure of it. He'll be fucked if he knows what they are, though. 
"So, what are you up to this evening?" he asks in the end. 
"Nothing much. Just practising. Making this music theory thing for next week. Missing my baby, you know."
"You can come over, right? Take your flute? We don't mind? Or you can play with us? Or we can do string quartet plus flute?"
A light chuckle comes over the line. 
"No, Eddy, that's fine. You have fun playing... games."
A heavy silence sinks over the room because some little nagging doubt grows in Eddy. A doubt that he knows but always ignores. Because his heart is true. 
It is, right? But the words are bubbling up anyway because suddenly he needs to know. 
"Tory. You want me to send them home? You don't want me to hang with the guys?"
"No! Of course not!" she squeaks, almost as high as her flute's third octave. "Of course not. You go and have fun."
"Um." he rubs his forehead again. "Was there... did you want to say anything specific when you called?"
"No, sweety." she says in a weird tone he doesn't understand. "Just wanted to hear your voice."
"You sure?"
"I've long since understood that you and Brett... I understand you're a package deal." she says, equally quietly. "I'll see you tomorrow."

He would say something else, but she's hung up already. No love you, no kiss. Nothing. He stares at the phone for the longest time, before getting up and making his way over to the door. 

What the hell was all that about?