Denial - a Breddy fanfic

139.

When Eddy finally got to the front door of their house, he wasn't really sad or angry about Brett's outburst anymore. Mike had held him for hours, making sure he was fine, before giving him his numver and convincing him to go home and make sure Brett was okay. Eddy hadn't really wanted to go home. He knew Brett wasn't fine, even though he had no reason to. Mike was just a friend and Brett was overreacting.

It was late, but he knew Brett was still up from the sound of the tv coming from the living room. He kicked off his shoes and went to the living room, surprised to find Brett curled up in the chair, pressing an almost empty half litre bottle of vodka to his chest.
"Bretty?" he said carefully, sitting down in the couch. Brett just scoffed but didn't reply, eyes trained on the british crime show on the tv. He took a swig of the bottle, leaving only a tiny mouthful for the next go.
"Brett, have you had the entire bottle?" he asked, getting concerned. Brett shrugged followed by a choked laugh.

"Whyyy the FUCK do you care, huH?" he said, obviously slurring his words. "Thought you were too BUSY fucking Mike or some shit."
Eddy sighed and moved to sit in the end of the couch that was the closest to Brett.
"Brett, I swear, Mike's just a friend. Nothing happened", Eddy said, trying to rest his hand on Brett's arm only to be swatted away followed by him emptying the bottle.
"Just a friend my ASS. I'm not fucking blind, Eddy!" Brett exclaimed, smashing the glass bottle on the floor next to his chair. Eddy jumped at the unexpected move, but decided against mentioning it.
"I swear, Brett, it's nothing. He's literally just a guy I've been chatting to while waiting for you to be done with your sessions in therapy."
"Sure, Eddy. 'Chatting'", Brett said, laughing bitterly. "Did you fuck in his office? Was it good, huh?"
"What do you want me to say, Brett? I haven't done anything with Mike", Eddy said, feeling defeated.

Brett stood up quickly, struggling to stay on his feet from all the alcohol he had consumed, and Eddy immediately stood up as well to try and support him.
"Leave me alone", Brett slurred, voice breaking at the end. "Go fuck Mike or something."
Eddy sighed and just wrapped his arms tightly around him, ignoring the clumsy struggling from Brett to get away from him. After a while Brett settled and hid his face into Eddy's chest.

"If I died, Eddy, you could be free of all this", Brett whispered after a while, barely able to form the words. He closed his eyes. "You could go be with Mike if you want, and not have to worry about me anymore."
Eddy shook his head, shocked that was even something he could think about.
"Don't say that", Eddy whispered desperately back, pulling Brett closer. "Do not fucking say that. I'm nothing without you, Brett."
Brett sighed heavily, using just slightly too long to find his words.
"I'm sorry I'm so much to handle. That's why you're with Mike, right? To get a break from me?" Brett could feel his speech getting slurred more as he spoke, as the alcohol he had earlier was absorbed into his system. He felt drowsy, and leaned more heavily onto Eddy.

"That's not true, Brett...", Eddy began, but felt himself holding more and more of Brett's weight, which caused him to pause.
"Brett?" he asked, but the smaller man only mumbled an incoherent reply. Eddy furrowed his brows, but then remembered the smashed bottle by the chair.
"Brett, come on, you gotta stay awake", he said, getting more worried now, but it was too late and Brett passed out in Eddy's arms.