For Eddy, this break is an oddly divided mix of relaxation and pure suffering.
He's been given time to relax, time to practice his Sibelius. Yet, it's at the cost of Brett not being by his side, rather, he's stuck in bed with a medical condition.
As far as they know, it isn't life-threatening, but when one of them isn't feeling well, they don't take breaks without knowing how long of a break it is, nor do they feel the need to announce their break to their fans.
He's often by Brett's bedside, playing his favorite pieces for him, occasionally discreetly serenading him with Prelude.
Yesterday had a bonus beautiful moment of tranquility, sitting together and listening to a piece that brought back so many memories from uni.
The opportunity to serenade Brett wasn't worth the suffering in the hours around it, though.
The thought circles in his mind as he whispers choked words into Brett's chest, speaking to the heart within that he so desperately needs, tears streaming down his face.
A shaking hand against his cheek, mouth hovering mere inches above his as his mind divides; would it be worth it to steal a quick kiss? Or is that just wrong?
A tear falls unchecked onto Brett's cheek as if he were crying, too, and oh shoot, but his eyes flutter a bit. Thankfully, though, he stays asleep.
He pulls back. This is wrong, he mutters, before quietly fleeing the room.
♡ ♡ ♡
Next morning, and Eddy lounges on the couch, scrolling through Twitter and liking their fans' get-well-soon comments, making a mental note to show Brett the comments later.
He feels burned out without Brett by his side.
I have to be careful with you. You make the world so bright when you're next to me and so dark when you're not.
Missing you comes in vast waves. Today, love, I'll have you know I'm drowning.
He's vaguely thinking about taking a small nap when he hears a door open, and the love of his li—best friend stands there, clutching the door handle.
Eddy feels delighted to see him up and about again, but also a sense of the fact that he shouldn't be out of bed; it's a very odd mix. "Dude, what are you doing out of bed? Go back, you're not feeling well just yet."
Brett saunters over and plops down next to Eddy on the couch. Gah, too close. "I know. But I'm feeling a bit better." He looks directly into Eddy's eyes and smiles. "Just thought you'd like to see me out of bed for a change."
Eddy smiles, deep down trying desperately not to squirm under Brett's gaze. How could he say no to this beautiful soul he loves with all his heart? "Fine. You down for a game of Mario Kart?"
"Hell yeah." Brett grins back at him, standing up to retrieve the video game controllers.
For the next while, Eddy's shrieks and Brett's delirious laughter warm the air. Even though one of them is facing problems with health, their worries are for tomorrow as they spend time side by side as a mark of their friendship.
How Eddy wishes it could be more, though.
After the shrieks and laughter and loud remarks subside, subconsciously keeping some distance between eachother, they both opt for a quick nap there on the couch.
Bad idea.
♡ ♡ ♡
Brett wakes first.
The sky is no longer a light blue, rather, it's a darker blue than before; the sun is bound to be setting somewhere in the sky.
He's no longer upright, rather, he's leaning on an arm of the couch. A warm, albeit heavy weight draped along his body.
A warm, albeit heavy weight draped along his body. Soft hair tickling the skin beneath his jaw. Hot exhales tickling his neck.
Hold the hell up.
Brett abruptly shuts his eyes and heaves out a sigh, an out-of-place Shostakovich quartet no. 8 movement 2 blaring in his brain.
They'd taken a nap here, hadn't they? Something in the universe's structure had shifted and now Eddy's sleeping on top of him, isn't he?
Don't tell me my hand is in his hair. Brett opens one eye. Oh, for heaven's sake. How did that get there?
Brett actively tries to ignore how oddly pleasant it feels to be in such close proximity with Eddy. He actively tries to ignore how oddly gratifying the peaceful intimacy of this moment feels.
He opens both eyes. Eddy's sleeping soundly, his expression unruffled and calmed, his forehead buried in the crook of Brett's neck. It's the first time in weeks he's seen Eddy this contented, and he can feel himself softening. He has to force himself to stop stroking Eddy's soft hair and running his fingers through the silken strands. Get a grip, Brett.
He's sleeping peacefully on top of me, I can feel his breath on my neck, there's nothing I can do about it cause he's sleeping so peacefully and I don't want to wake him.
The soft exhales tickling his neck breathe life into wrong thoughts, thoughts that make Brett wonder, mere theoretical wonder, what it'd be like if that mouth just moved a teeny bit closer to meet skin, skimming along his neck.
Pure unnecessary, utterly wrong thoughts that Brett desperately tries to push away. Thoughts he know he shouldn't be thinking since they send butterflies coursing through his insides. Because really, what the hell?
Brett freaking Yang, Eddy's your best friend, not your lover. You're not in love with him or anything. Get. A. Freaking. Grip.
He's sleeping peacefully on top of me, I can feel his breath on my neck, there's nothing I can do about it cause he's sleeping so peacefully and I don't want to wa—
The weight shifts, and Brett can feel as Eddy freezes abruptly, tenses against him. Aaaand he's awake.
He opens his eyes, wide eyes meeting wide eyes, awkward silence bringing forth a tinge of pink to both of their faces. In the midst of his shock, Brett forgets to take his hand out of Eddy's hair, and so once it crosses his mind, he does so as fast as possible, dangling it meekly at his side.
Eddy snaps out of it first; he lifts himself off Brett, sitting upright on the other end of the couch. "Right... well..." His voice is slightly hoarse, hence the fact that he woke up less than a minute ago, "I don't know how we ended up sleeping like that..."
Following a lack of response, Eddy looks over at him, prompting Brett to snap out of his own state of shock. He shakes his head, shoulders squaring. "Me neither."
They sit through another discomfited and uneasy silence, averting their gazes from the other. At least, Eddy seems to be; Brett, on the other hand, can't keep himself from sneaking glances.
He doesn't know how, or why, but a newfound inclination courses through Brett with vigor. Or was it just mere recklessness?
Whatever it is, Brett chooses to act on it, and so—
Maybe they did want this.
"Eddy?"
"Yeah?"
Brett doesn't give a verbal response. He sits up, reaching over to grab Eddy's wrist, his free hand finding his back. All so quick, and so, Eddy can't react.
In one unbroken movement, Brett flips backwards again, yanking Eddy with him, back on top of him. Eddy crashes onto him and Brett winces slightly, but quickly adjusts to it.
Brett admits, he was expecting Eddy to be taking up this opportunity without question; however, amidst the warmth circling them both, Brett has sensation of Eddy's unease and hesitation of his body pressed against his again.
"Brett," Eddy starts, voice taut, "what are you—"
"Shh." Brett pulls Eddy's head close, forehead falling into its earlier position in the crook of his neck. "Sleep, Eddy," he says softly.
Eddy wriggles his wrist out of Brett's grasp, arm snaking beneath him, hand at his back; other hand gripping his shoulder. Brett does a mental happy dance when he detects Eddy easing against him a tad bit more.
"We're going to regret this," Eddy whispers.
"And why should we?" Brett asks. "You and I both need some peacefulness together, especially since, y'know, I'm by your side less these days."
Eddy doesn't reply; he shifts slightly, making himself comfortable against Brett, before at last, relaxing entirely. Brett would say their bodies were melting together, if only the phrase didn't have a romantic connotation tied to it.
Nowhere in his memory of the last fifteen years does Brett remember them doing anything like this. And truth be told, it's heaven on Earth.
Only now does Brett jerk out of the feeling the closeness brought, just on the edge of slipping into this alluring, blissful reverie; only now acknowledging the uncomfortable sensation of glass and thin, golden metal pressed against his skin.
And so, "Are you going to sleep with your glasses on?" Brett asks him.
"Oh, right," Eddy laughs.
He lifts himself up slightly, a tinge of pink rising to his cheeks as they come face-to-face. His hands lift to his glasses just as Brett's reach them, and so, Eddy lets Brett take them off for him. Brett tries not to smirk when Eddy's flush deepens a bit after their hands brush up against eachother.
Eddy takes off Brett's glasses in turn, quietly looking into his eyes, and Brett gets that odd feeling in his chest again under Eddy's gaze.
What is this feeling and why won't it leave him alone?
They put eachother's glasses on the arm of the couch, Brett mentally noting not to knock them over later on.
They lay there together, not a word spoken between them, just steady, in-sync breathing filling the silence. Not a word spoken until a few minutes later, at least.
"Brett?"
Brett opens one eye. "Mhm?"
Eddy breathes in, breathes out. "Can I ask you something? I mean, if it makes you uncomfortable, you don't have to answer, but—"
"Ask away." Both his eyes are open.
"Can you picture it? You and I together?"
Both him and Eddy know exactly what's sparking that question, don't they? "Together, as in more than just friends?"
"Yeah."
"I kind of can," Brett replies. And truth be told, he can, albeit to a certain extent. "But I don't know where the line goes."
"I get what you mean," Eddy says quietly.
"But I bet some of our fans can," Brett jokes, before instantly regretting it. How he wishes he could take his words back—awkwardness is going to intrude and ruin this peaceful moment, won't it?
Contrary to his prediction, though, Eddy laughs. "Yeah."
A silence follows, neither awkward nor comforting. For the first time, it's just—silence.
"Are you feeling better?" Eddy asks, breaking the silence.
"I think so. But I'm not completely sure. Let's not go right back to filming till we know I'm 100% better." Brett answers. God, he wants to get back in front of the camera with Eddy so bad. But, as Eddy told him, health before channel.
"Alright." Eddy cranes his head up to look at him, to meet his gaze. "I miss filming with you."
The statement sends a pang through Brett's heart. As he looks into those gentle eyes, all thought of platonic and romantic feelings leave his mind. Brett only remembers last night, those eyes weeping in silence, in secret, leaving a crack in Brett's heart with every tear that fell.
"I'll be back soon. I promise. Just—hang in there, okay?" Brett says. Eddy's words from last night ring in his ears; stay strong for us, Brett. Please. "Stay strong for me, Eddy."
"M'kay. I will."
A fermata above a whole rest follows. But, it's another variation of a silence; Brett's quietly gazing into those deep brown eyes as Eddy quietly gazes into his. It's as if some electric current is alive in the air between them. And unbelievable, but neither feel the urge to look away awkwardly; because, this electrified air—it's a connection between them.
Somewhere in the distance, a flower bud is blossoming, splaying out soft petals, as it dances in the breeze to the melody of a change, while two doves meet in the skies above.
Oh, yes—something is definitely changing.
"We should probably sleep." Eddy shifts against him slightly, burying his forehead once again in the crook of Brett's neck. "Night, Brett."
Brett can't help but smile softly. "Night, Eddy."
He knows full well Eddy's still awake, and probably will be for the next few hours, but this time, Brett doesn't stop himself from stroking Eddy's hair and running his fingers through the strands. This time, he doesn't stop himself from basking in Eddy's warmth.
He tries not to smile as he feels Eddy relaxing into the touch, as they both subconsciously curl closer into eachother.