Eddy rouses from the best sleep he's had in a while. He shifts, smiling softly as he remembers exactly where he is.
He's breathing on Brett's neck, a soft weight at the back of his head courtesy of Brett's hand tangled in his hair, other arm wrapped around his waist, holding him close. It's the closest thing to any form of physical intimacy he'll ever have with Brett.
Brett's still asleep beneath him, and his calmed demeanor shifts something within Eddy as he feels himself softening even more for him; he loves seeing him relaxed. It's a sight that relaxes Eddy himself, too.
He's vaguely wondering what time it is as he's about to get up and prepare breakfast.
Or—he could stay here until Brett wakes up?
No. He can't.
He can't just take advantage of this in that way. Not when Brett doesn't love him in that way. Not when he doesn't see this in that light, either. That's wrong.
He sighs, carefully extricating himself from Brett's hold, doing his best to not wake him up; it's definitely harder than it seems, with the way Brett's holding him as if he doesn't want to let go.
And so, Eddy starts yet another day wondering when Brett would ever feel the same way.
Eddy washes up in the washroom before heading to the kitchen to make some toast and coffee for him and Brett, thoughts recklessly traveling to the one person who's always on his mind.
He's setting plates and mugs on the table when he hears Brett shifting awake on the couch. And there's just something about Brett's mussed hair and bleary eyes that softens Eddy inside, something he can't quite place a finger on, though something about it is endearing in a way.
Eddy can't help but smile. "Morning, sleepyhead." He takes a seat. "How was your sleep?"
"Relaxing. And comforting. Extremely." He yawns, stretches, before facing Eddy and grinning. "And you?"
Eddy smiles wider. "Same. That was the best night of sleep I've had in a while," he replies. And truth be told, it was; a moment of closeness to Brett, one free of awkwardness, just comfort, a moment that meant the world to him.
"I can tell." Brett smirks. "Not every day you wake up before I do, all refreshed, hey?"
Brett would never let a morning go without teasing Eddy about his nocturnal-ness at least once; how could he forget? "You didn't have to remind me." Eddy rolls his eyes, but ruining the effect by joining Brett's laughter. "I mean, it's a start at least, isn't it?"
Brett hoists himself off the couch. "Says the one who called me a sleepyhead just minutes ago," he laughs, heading to the washroom.
Eddy laughs with him. God, he loves Brett way too much. "I could get used to waking up next to you, actually."
Wait.
Oh, crap. The sappy romantic side of his brain just took over for a split second. Why the heck did he say that? Awkwardness in three, two, one—
Brett stops, and Eddy knows, what he said is making its way through his brain; something's definitely going on behind those gorgeous eyes, the wheels in his brain most definitely turning.
Contrary to awkwardness, though, the corners of Brett's mouth quirk up. "Why? What am I, an alarm clock?" He dramatically places a hand over his heart. "Eddy Chen! How could you use your own best friend?"
Eddy laughs again as Brett goes to wash up.
Once Brett comes back, he takes a seat, and the morning passes with the two talking and laughing together, and the love in the room, be it platonic or romantic, brings the sun out of hiding.
"I think I'm going to go lie down for a bit longer," Brett says after he's done eating.
"Alright. Wait, just a second." Eddy stands up and heads to the sink, and fills up a glass of water. He walks back over to Brett, handing him the glass. "Just take your medicine before you lie down."
"M'kay." Brett takes the glass before standing up and heading to his room.
Eddy watches him go, smiling gently, eyes lovingly soft. Definitely in too deep.
♡ ♡ ♡
Eddy's checking his phone, scrolling through classical musicians's posts about their concerts, more get-well-soon-Brett wishers, among other things, when the notification pops up; Christmas in two weeks.
And naturally, Eddy has to do something for Brett, since, well, he's madly in love, isn't he?
Just like that, his thoughts form a tornado of ideas at the front of his mind.
He smiles. Brett's asleep; there's no way he'd find out right about now.
He starts searching for gifts online, making a mental note to email Jordon later. All for the person he loves most in the world.
♡ ♡ ♡
Giving gifts is an act of love.
If Eddy could, he'd stretch his hands into the night and pull down the moon and gift it to Brett; the same moon that knows how much he's in love with him. He'd give him the night sky with all its embroidered stars. He'd give him the world because Brett Yang means the world to him.
But the night sky, unfortunately, is lodged in place, and so Eddy's ordered presents online, all of which arrive at the door two weeks later.
Eddy's practicing one of the harder passages in Sibelius 3rd movement, face contorted in frustration, and so at the sound of the doorbell, he sighs in relief at the distraction.
He opens the door, smiling when he sees the packages at his feet. He picks them up and heads to the filming room, an excited bound in his steps.
Brett's out buying new rosin for himself; that should buy enough time for him to wrap Brett's presents.
Eddy turns on the camera.
"Hey, how's it going? Welcome back to another episode of Twoset Violin. Uh—"
God, it feels incredibly weird filming without Brett by his side, doing the introduction; he'd have expected Brett to jump in on the intro right about now.
"As many of you already know, we're currently on a break from regular uploads because Brett—recently got quite unwell, quite sick, from a medical condition. And he's currently taking some time off to recover."
Please get better soon, Brett. I hate being Oneset Violin. It's not the same without you.
"In the meantime, though, I thought it'd be a cool idea to get Brett some Christmas gifts."
He finishes the rest of the intro, and one by one, he shows the gifts to the camera, occasionally laughing and joking over some, before getting started on wrapping them.
Eddy's horrible at wrapping gifts, not to mention some of the gifts were—questionable. Yet, he hopes Brett will appreciate them anyways.
Hopefully he'll overlook the flaws as how someone in love ignores their love's flaws. And that in itself says a lot.
It may not look pleasing to the eyes, but Eddy can only hope Brett will see the effort he put in.
He finishes wrapping the last gift, and as if on cue, he hears the door open and close outside the filming room walls. Brett's home.
"I don't know why I'm nervous," Eddy says in a low voice to the camera. "I hope he likes the gifts."
Will Brett appreciate the gifts and his effort? Or will he just put on a fake "I love them" mask for Eddy's sake?
Because the truth is—he doesn't want to see fake appreciation. He wants to see that beautiful smile. He wants to see those gorgeous eyes light up the way they do whenever he's overjoyed.
He straightens up, poking out of the filming room to call Brett in.
♡ ♡ ♡
"Yo, Brett!"
Brett's shrugging off his jacket as he sees Eddy's face poke out from the doorway of the filming room.
And there it is—his heart expanding in his chest as he sees his best friend.
He has absolutely no clue what it is—he's never felt this towards him the last fifteen years, even though they're definitely the best of friends—but he houses the feeling anyway.
"Yeah?" Brett asks.
Eddy doesn't say anything else; he merely motions for him to follow.
Brett walks into the room behind Eddy, evidently curious. The first thing he notices—the camera's on, the filming lights on, too, but dimmed, not the usual brightness they use for their videos. "What's going on?"
"'Sup?" Eddy grins, gesturing at the table. "Merry Christmas."
And now, the second thing Brett notices—the various shapes and sizes of presents on the table, covered in colorful Christmas-themed wrapping.
Whoa.
At the sight, Brett completely melts. The waves of sincerity in the atmosphere are already threatening to sweep him off his feet; did Eddy seriously go out of his way to do all this for him?
"What?" Brett gives voice to only a mere few notes from the symphony of amazement in him, a grin spreading on his face, hopefully conveying the rest. "Really?"
Eddy's peering at him attentively, as if searching, watching, for something in his expression. After a few seconds, his eyes light up; it's endearing, Brett has to admit. "Yeah," Eddy laughs.
"Dude... thanks a lot." Eddy Chen, your kindness is just—
"No worries, man."
One by one, Brett goes through the (badly wrapped) gifts—a bubble tea airpod case, a Spotify plate of his lofi, a potty piano, Hal Leonard's Perfect Pitch Method—an occasional exclamation of "dude, that's sick!" at some of the presents. But the others—
"What the heck is this? Dude..." Brett holds up a white pillow with Eddy's face printed on it, topped with yellow text, "stroke to get an A 440."
Eddy's hysterical laugher and slapping of the wall behind them are the only sounds for a solid few seconds, as Brett is, well, mortified. "Stroke to get an A—this is so random!"
Even though they're badly wrapped, and even though some of them are questionable, Brett can't help but melt at Eddy's kindness. His appreciation for Eddy at the moment is something words cannot adequately describe.
After they're done laughing over the presents, Brett faces the camera, giving their fans an update on his health, before him and Eddy wish everyone happy holidays and end the video, noting to send it off to Editor-san later.
"At least you didn't get me another viola this time," Brett jokes as he turns off the camera, and he's met with that beautiful laughter, honeyed with pure cheerfulness.
"Thought I'd be a bit nicer this time. But maybe next year," Eddy says from behind him.
The corners of Brett's mouth quirk up as he turns to face him. "Really though, thanks for the Christmas gifts. Some of them were a bit questionable—" Eddy laughs again, "but still, thanks a lot. I appreciate it—appreciate you."
Eddy smiles. "Anything for you, bro. Merry Christmas, Brett."
"Merry Christmas, Eddy."
And there it is again—that beautiful friction in the atmosphere around them, as Brett gazes quietly into Eddy's deep brown eyes, a mesmerizing abyss Brett can't look away from, not that he wants to.
And there it is again—his heart expanding in his chest, honeyed with sheer bliss and ecstasy and euphoria—the same beautiful feeling, but this time, newly overlayed with his heart pounding as though the percussion section became overly excited.
And there it is again—that adrenaline, that impulsiveness Brett chooses to act on once again.
He closes the distance between them, throwing his arms around Eddy's neck and clinging to his figure in a grateful embrace. After a few passing seconds of silence and darkness amidst his closed eyes, Brett feels a pair of arms wrapping around his waist, as Eddy holds him close, breathing into his hair.
"You're amazing, y'know that?" Brett says softly.
They both stand there in eachother's embrace, the sweet electricity intensified, as the doves in the distance stretch and unfurl their wings, ready to take flight at any second.
Eddy pulls back, a glowing smile on his face, a hand on Brett's shoulder. "Hopefully you'll be back in front of the camera soon. We all miss you, Brett, we really do."
Brett beams back. "I'll be back before you know it."
♡ ♡ ♡
He's leaning over the windowsill, breathing in the fresh evening air; all is quiet, all but the occasional passing of a car on the road, and Eddy practicing in the other room. A comforting setting, but of course, only second to the comfort when he's with Eddy.
Hours later, and he still cannot believe that Eddy Chen exists. And that in itself is a beautiful thing, a blessing and a crucial factor in Brett's life.
Two doves on a nearby tree branch huddle close together. Brett watches them, completely unaware of the soft smile eclipsing his face.
Brett reaches his hands into the void, draws out the warmth that night when him and Eddy had slept in eachother's embrace, that night on the couch.
One dove gently pecks at the other, seemingly trying to get something, likely dust or bits of twig, out of its feathers.
Brett breathes in the chilled evening breeze as it rushes in his ears, bringing back to him a memory of the butterflies that flocked through him while Eddy was fixing his jacket collar.
The two doves take off towards the setting sun, flying higher and higher, side by side, together.
Brett digs his hands into the earth, fingers finding roots, hauling out the beautiful bond between him and Eddy, as Twoset Violin, as two halves of a whole.
Brett watches them until they disappear as mere black dots in the never-ending sky.
The love between those two doves is ever so obvious; it's not only humans that can love, Brett thinks. Both are birds of a feather, no doubt about it.
And another surge of that beautiful feeling again, this time at the the two doves, his heart blooming soft-petal flowers at the sheer beauty of love. It's the same feeling he feels when he's with Eddy.
And out of nowhere, in the middle of a pianissimo orchestral solo, the shoulder rest drops. Loudly. And dawning slams into Brett like a train.
The butterflies that seemed to take flight whenever Eddy got slightly close. The romantic thoughts his brain spewed out at random. Their slumber on the couch and all that entailed.
The moments whenever they find themselves staring meaningfully into eachother's eyes for mere moments too long. The funny feeling in his chest whenever Eddy looked his way. The perfectly platonic physical contact that felt oddly gratifying.
The flowers that seemed to blossom, the feeling of something more than just mere belonging, the feeling of his heart expanding in his chest, the electrified air, all whenever he's with Eddy.
The final puzzle piece clicks into place, and the full picture is clearer than day; he understands now.
This is love.
No, not the platonic love they've built for eachother over the years.
This is romantic, I want to be more than just friends with you type of love.
Oh no. Oh no.
He did say that he and Eddy would never be more than just friends, didn't he?
Well, it appears that his heart has double-crossed his brain.
He tried to fight it. Every deity among the aglitter nighttime stars knows he really did.
And now Brett's realized that he's badly lost the battle.
He's fallen in love. With his best friend.
With Eddy best-friend-nothing-more Chen.
"Crap."