He wakes up early, to find that Eddy is still holding him. He glances at the clock without moving even his head. Seven. He has a little time, almost an hour to let Eddy sleep. Almost an hour to be held like this. He sighs quietly and closes his eyes again to savour the touch. He can feel the movement of Eddy's deep breaths behind him. It's heavenly.
He doesn't know how much time has passed, but to be honest he's quite ready to be late to the con for this. Eddy stirs a little behind him, and he is groaning a little in his sleep. What's he dreaming about? Vanessa? Jill? It doesn't matter. He can dream about anything he likes, Brett won't stand in his way.
Ever.
This moment, this beautiful, most perfect of moments, is safe in his heart, and no one will take it away. And he will be okay. He will. Eventually.
Did he do something to wake him? He's not sure, but suddenly Eddy breathes in sharply and turns on his right side. Another glance at the clock, and it's almost time to get up. Brett respectfully moves a little away from him as he turns too.
"Good morning." he says to Eddy's back.
"Hi." Eddy replies as he moves the cover back and gets up in one graceful movement. He's already by the door.
Brett lies on his back with his hands underneath his head and stares at the space he left behind. The glow, the warmth is long gone, replaced by cold fear that grips his heart. Why the fuck did Eddy leave so quickly? Did he not want to lie like that, last night? Was it too much? What the fuck is going on with him?
Eddy walks back in in his bedclothes. His eyes are weary, more weary than he's ever seen them before. His skin is pale, and blotchy. Brett gets up quickly, because some things are better dealt with standing up. And dressed. He turns around and takes off his bed shirt, pulls a button down shirt from the cupboard.
"By the way, I should probably go home tonight. I think my mum's expecting me to show my face at some point." Eddy says quietly behind him.
It hits him like a dagger to the heart. Oh my God, this is it, right? This is rejection? Why else would he say that now, why would he want to go now, when everything is up in the air, when he's not telling him what's bothering him? Brett's done it all wrong. He pulls himself together quickly and turns around with the most deadpan face he can muster. Eddy looks down, avoids his eyes.
"Okay, sure."
Brett is in purgatory as they dress, as he tries to down some toast, as they get ready to go to the con. There are so many things he wants to say, wants to ask, but none of them he can. He locks the door behind him and walks next to his best friend in the whole world, his love.
Maybe... maybe he can salvage something? Maybe? Will Eddy still want him to be in his life, at least in some capacity, if he goes back to normal? If he simply pretends that none of this ever happened? He tries to smile at him, but Eddy turns his head and looks at the upcoming traffic. And that's when the words bubble over.
"Are you okay there, Eddy?" he asks quietly.
Eddy smirks, half of his mouth pulling upwards, then he seems to shake his head.
"Yeah, just really tired." he says then. "We may have to rethink our rubber hammer plan, you know."
Brett almost falls through the street tiles with relief at the joke. A joke. Eddy's made a joke. A joke is not rejection, right? He manages to grin lightly.
"Sure, bro. I've got your back." he says, pulling them further back onto dry land, where they are safe.
Where they are still them.