"Bye bye! Take care! Get home safe, guys!"
Brett was seeing the last of their guests out. They had worked very hard this year, they had gone through a lot together and came out on top, they had reached their 3mil milestone only a few days ago! How awesome was that?! And so, they thought they deserved a party.
It wasn't anything too ambitious, really. Sure, it was still labelled as a "New Year's Eve party", but Brett could hardly call it that. It was a simple, small gathering of some friends, some wine, some snacks, some chatter and some friendly banter. With everything that's been going on—especially with Brett still recovering, they had decided to host a small party and only invite a handful of friends just so they wouldn't be going anywhere too far from home, or doing anything that was too physically taxing.
It had gone well—for the most part—aside from Ray spilling his entire glass of wine on Brett's merch Christmas sweater and cry-laughing at Brett's reaction, while simultaneously apologizing profusely for it. Maybe there was a little more than some wine involved, but it's not like anyone was complaining.
The countdown had ended, the clock had struck midnight, they had cheered, it was much like any New Year's party, except for all of the drunken rowdiness that the parties were famous for. An outfit change—thanks to Ray, a half-drunken 'never have I ever' game, and an impromptu holidays themed private piano concert later, their numbers had slimmed down.
Eddy was still sitting at the piano stool as Brett guided a less than sober Ray through putting on his jacket, making sure to remind Jordon to get him to his hotel room in one piece. After Jordon had collected the wobbly, giggly Ray, and made his way to the car, Brett was finally satisfied with the safety of their friends. He was glad Jordon had refused any alcohol served to him, since the younger can now drive safely.
He made his way back, stopping at the kitchen to grab himself and Eddy a glass of water. When he walked back to the living room, Eddy was leaning forward on the stool with forearms resting on his knees. "Hey," he nudged Eddy's leg slightly with his foot. Eddy lifted his head and straightened his back when he saw Brett. He accepted the glass of water that was offered to him, chugging it all in one go. "Thanks, Bretty."
"Mhmm," he only hummed in reply as he flopped down on the chair opposite from Eddy. Now that the house was quiet again, Brett's focus was all on Eddy. He had been pretending not to see the way Eddy had been looking at him all night—almost expectantly. Brett didn't know what to do with himself, so he had busied himself intently with their guests. But now... Oh, ho. Now, there was no one there to save him from the way Eddy was staring at him.
Brett averted his eyes to avoid Eddy's unforgiving gaze, fishing out his phone from his pocket to look at nothing in particular. After a short-lived moment of silence, Eddy spoke up.
"Did you enjoy the party?" Brett lifted his head to look at Eddy, "Yeah, it was nice to see everyone again. Did you?" "Mhmm, I did. I'm glad Ray could make it."
Brett watched as Eddy rolled up his sleeves and unbuttoned the second button at the top of his shirt. He felt his face warming up at the sight and he had to bury his face into his phone to hide it. He didn't trust himself to reply to Eddy's statement without stuttering, so he settled on a small nod.
"I didn't kiss anyone at midnight this time." Oh. So Eddy had decided to torture him? Good to know. "No one did, Eddy. It wasn't that type of party. Besides, there was no one there to kiss." And then he made the poor decision of looking at Eddy again. Who gave this man the right to roll up his sleeves?
"I can think of one." Eddy replied in a low, deep whisper. Isn't there a law somewhere outlawing people from speaking in a voice like that? Well, if there isn't, then there should be one. No one should be allowed to sound like that.
Brett knew one thing, though, and that he shouldn't allow himself to ask the question that was now lingering on the tip of his tongue. No good could come from that, no sir. No answer would be a good answer if he were to ask 'who'. There were two options, really: one he wasn't prepared for, and one he wasn't sure he could handle with a stoic posture. So he did what any normal functioning adult would do when met with an issue—he threw humor at it.
"Well, I don't think Jordon was nearly drunk enough for that," he gave a weak smile to his own weak joke.
Eddy chuckled, "I wasn't talking about Jordon." He got off the piano stool, and sauntered over to Brett, smug smile still plastered to his stupid face. Now, Brett was panicking. This was new.
He had gotten used to the new dynamic between them: the cheeky banter, the flirtatious jokes, the blurring of the lines of their relationship; the lines between them. He was perfectly content with that. But this was entirely new territory, and he was lost. His eyes didn't leave Eddy's approaching figure for one second.
"Well, Ray and Shaun are already taken. I'm running out of options here..." Brett was beyond being sarcastic now, he was stalling. If he had to look at that smug spread on Eddy's face any longer, he'd explode.
Eddy was now right in front of him. He placed his knee on the cushion Brett was perched on right between his legs, and leaned forward, placing both of his hands on either side of Brett's head on the back of the chair. Brett swallowed thickly. His own hands found their way to Eddy's chest; maybe to keep him at a safe distance, maybe to beg him to come closer.
Matter of fact is, Brett had it bad for Eddy. He was almost sure Eddy himself knew at this point, they just danced around it a lot. He had always been Eddy's 'partner in crime'. Give up on his dream of being a soloist to start a YouTube channel with Eddy? Sign him up. Spend a few nights on the street busking non-stop with Eddy? No other place he'd rather be. Run around half the globe to play shows with Eddy? Hell yeah. Get on one knee for every single one of these shows and ask Eddy to be his other banana? What else could he possibly want? He had it all with Eddy, and he was giving Eddy his all.
So when Eddy deemed it amusing enough to toy with Brett's heart like that, get in his personal space, tower over him, and look at him like that, Brett had no choice but to let him. Of course he would; he would do anything for Eddy.
"Is this okay?" Eddy whispered near—oh so near—his face, and Brett could very faintly smell the wine in his breath.
Brett gave him a small nod, not noticing how his fingers curled into Eddy's shirt, tugging at the collar.
"Can I kiss you?" Eddy didn't even spare him a look as he asked the question, his eyes were pinned on Brett's lips. 'That is just plain rude!' Brett couldn't help but think. He didn't answer the question, though. He was too stuck in his own mind contemplating whether or not he had misheard Eddy. But then Eddy kept leaning forward, closer, and closer... Impossibly close.
"Brett..." Eddy whispered only a few centimeters away from his lips. Brett's eyes had long been closed, waiting, waiting. For what, he didn't know. Maybe to open his eyes and find that Eddy was still on the piano stool, or that Eddy had moved away from him, or maybe...
Brett felt the hand that was now on his cheek, nudging him to open his eyes. And Eddy was there, looking at him with half-lidded eyes and parted lips.
"Bretty" Eddy whispered again, his thumb stroking over Brett's cheekbone. "I'm going to kiss you now."
Brett had ample time to move away, he had enough brain power to say 'no' if he wanted to, he could have pushed Eddy away any second, and he knew Eddy was giving him the option; he knew Eddy had been stalling so he could move away if he so pleased, but he didn't.
So when Eddy's lips finally touched his, he kissed back. Hungrily.
He would have worried himself entirely with what all of this meant for their relationship if he wasn't so busy savoring the taste of Eddy's lips, the way Eddy kissed him just as needily.
He now could taste the wine that he had been smelling on Eddy's breath, and it was just heady all the same. He may have remained mostly sober throughout the party, but now he was most definitely intoxicated, and not entirely with alcohol.
But like all good things, their lips parted. Too soon. They remained close, though, breathing the same air. Or, gasping it, more like it.
"You've had a little too much to drink."
Now that was just plain rude. Brett couldn't bite back the words that spilled from him, but it was mostly just his last attempt at protecting his heart.
Eddy chuckled. That bastard actually chuckled at what he said! "Oh Bretty," his forehead landed on Brett's shoulder, as his body slumped down on Brett, more or less sitting on his lap. "I'm sober enough." And really, who was Brett to argue? So he simply wrapped his arms around Eddy and just held him.
"I love you."
"I love you too."
It has always been that simple, they've always known it. But maybe right now, it felt a little sweeter on Brett's tongue. Maybe, now it tasted a little more like a heady wine.