Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

An Essay about Why Best Friends Are The Very Best (By Brett Yang)

Eddy

“Isn’t it weird? Being with someone you’ve known for basically your whole life?” he had asked.

The girl had glanced at her phone screen where a pretty blond was smiling at the camera, and a brightness that hadn’t come from the gray sky had lit up her features. 

“I thought it would, but…  It’s the opposite actually, nothing had ever felt more natural. Boys, they came and went, but your best friend, they are always here.”

He had snuck a look to his right to see Eddy already focused on him, wiggling his eyebrow and Brett had laughed.

The water runs on his shoulder, steam fogging the bathroom. Brett grabs his shampoo, squirts some on his palm and starts threading his fingers through his hair, his head aches from lack of sleep but every scrap of nails against his scalp feels divine.

Always here, huh. He could definitely relate.

He has had his fair share of relationships, and look at him now, he barely talks to any of his exes. At the time, they had all seemed so important, and now are nothing but whispers of pleasant times woven with reminders of his screw ups. The one person that is here, in every aspect of his life, that has seen every face he has kissed, has heard about every fight, has suffered his rants about every set of pretty eyes… 

A small smile perks up, and a fond warmth - warmer than the water cascading down his body - spreads inside his chest.

Best friends are the best.                                 

His name was Eddy. Eddy Chen.

Brett was fourteen when he met him. Not yet fifteen when he became his best friend.

When the kid showed up late at math tutoring in the beginning of the school year and had to sit beside him, Brett had had no idea what he was getting into.

He was Asian, His teeth were too big for his face, and his hands too large for his scrawny body, his profile had a lot of angles and his eyes sparkled under any light.

He was serious and nerdy, but fun once you managed to get him to talk, unstoppable once he started rambling about something he loved. He was also devoured by shyness and the desire to please.

That first day, the kid - Eddy, he would learn later - would nod whenever the teacher said something and write down everything with a rare diligence, without even sparing a glance to Brett’s doodling after a customary “Hi” when he sat down. Brett was bored and decided his desk mate needed to chill, so he extended his hand and scribbled nonsense on the other’s notes, the guy started frowning but didn’t say anything even though he clearly didn’t like it - What a pushover - Brett thought.

Then the kid raised his head and looked at him fully.

“Do you like music?”

“Huh?” 

He pointed at the treble clef and violin f holes lost in the middle of other meaningless doodles.

“Oh yeah. I play the violin.”

He could almost feel the kid shaking from excitement.

“I play the violin too!”

The teacher gave them a stern glance and the kid blushed. Brett snickered.

 *

When he saw him just the next day, lost in a sea of older orchestra musicians, standing all awkward limbs beside his father and their eyes met, the relief of already knowing someone, someone his age was so strong that Brett didn’t even mind when the kid decided to stick to him. 

*

They were at the age where they didn’t have a cellphone yet, so after exchanging jokes, life stories and a few manga, it was a piece of paper with their house phone number on it. 

*

Brett had been sick and miserable all day. 

His brain power was equal to that of a mashed potato and the room was even more out of focus than usual. He had tried to read a comic, but everything blurred after two lines, and he had already given up when his Mom came into the room with a bowl of chicken soup in a hand, the phone in another, and a pleased expression on her face.

“Your friend from the orchestra called, he was worried because you didn’t show up at rehearsal today. Here.” And she shoved the receiver into his hands. “He greeted me in chinese, very politely. Good boy. Invite him to stay for dinner one evening.”

Brett barely had the time to say anything, his mother had left. The world was hazy without his glasses, and all he could process was the warm scent of the chicken broth wafting to his nostrils and Eddy’s voice in his ears - Hey, huh, I hope you’re okay? Sorry if I am bothering you or keeping you from resting. I told your mother she didn’t need to give you the phone or wake you up as long as… - the boy was rambling and Brett’s foggy brain wasn’t keeping up.

“My Mom wants you to have dinner with us,” he ended up blurting.

Eddy made a happy noise from the back of his throat, and Brett would have chuckled at the neediness if he wasn’t feeling so dead inside. 

“Huh, yeah, sure. I would love to. I mean, if it’s not a bother, I really don’t want to impose or anything. Do you want me to bring the music sheet of the duet we were talking about last time? You know…”

*

After that, they became really close really fast.

They practiced together, joked together, read together, listened to music together, won competitions together.

Brett’s family loved Eddy. He was funny but well mannered, shy, serious, good at school and at the violin. 

His aunt and uncles loved him, his brother loved him, his mother coddled him, and his father nodded approvingly every time Eddy brought a gift when he stayed the night at their house. 

Eddy’s mother didn’t love Brett as much.

It wasn’t anything outward or obvious, but he could feel her watching him with caution whenever he talked to Eddy. A slight hesitation in her steps when Eddy clasped his hand on his shoulder. A frown maring her face when he kicked Eddy’s shin because he was being annoying. Tiny gestures that reflected how wary she was of this friendship.

It could have been his imagination, but he could see Belle, Eddy’s older sister, snickering in the background at each disapproving glance.

He didn’t really understand, so he decided not to let it bother him. He was friends with Eddy, not Eddy’s mother.

*

One day, Eddy came at math tutoring, a bit late as usual, and sat away from Brett. The chair beside him felt empty, and something dropped in his chest. The teacher blinked when she saw them sitting so far from each other, the confusion on her face nothing compared to the one on Brett’s mind. Eddy didn’t even look angry at him, he kept wriggling, throwing him glances and biting his lips, looking all around miserable. 

They didn’t talk at all that day and Brett felt irrationally pissed when Eddy’s mother came to pick him up, and his friend very purposefully turned his back to him and pretended to mingle with other kids. Even though Brett knew perfectly well how uncomfortable that must have made him feel. There was something like victory in Mrs.Chen's eyes when she assessed the situation.

*

Everybody around him was either tuning their instrument or chattering, but Brett could barely pay any attention to what was going on in the orchestra, fully prepared to rip an explanation from Eddy, his irritation only growing with each passing minute, fiddling with his violin, making angry pizzicato, pretending to look at the music sheet while his brain kept playing scenarios of the confrontation he was going to have with his friend. If they were even still friends. 

Unfortunately, all his plans crumbled the second Eddy plopped his stupid ass on the seat next to him, stupid tears almost flowing from his stupid eyes, and stupid bottom lip bitten by stupid teeth. He tried to tell himself he would not fall for that, but when a broken “sorry” escaped the stupid mouth of the stupid boy, the frown he was determined to maintain melted with his heart.

He punched Eddy in the shoulder and relished in the strangled chortle it elicited.

He got his explanation in the end. Sitting on an empty stairwell at the back of the building, their violin cases a few steps below, neither caring that their parents were probably waiting for them. There was dust in the air, it was a little too hot and his hands were clammy. Once the words started escaping Eddy’s mouth, there was no stopping it. - My mom is scared that I’m too close to you -  he began - That you’re older and extroverted and I’m just blindly following you around. That you’re going to have other friends and leave me behind and I’ll be heartbroken and alone. She’s scared I’m becoming dependent. That I need you but you don’t need me -

Brett had felt a lot of things at that moment. His fourteen years old self had been unable to sort through this jumbled mess of emotions, just drowning in passion; angry passion, sad passion, proud passion. He had crushed Eddy in a hug. It was a sweaty hug and Eddy smelled a bit weird, but that just made him hold on tighter.

“Brett won’t be here forever,” Eddy mumbled in the hug. “That’s what she said. I’m only thirteen, I needed to make other friends. To stop being close to you like that. That it would end badly for me.”

Brett thought it was deeply uncool to expose his neediness, his own dependences or affections. But he supposed right now, it would be kind of okay, and the kick he got out of knowing Eddy was that attached to him could compensate for the rawness he was about to put on display.

He let his friend go and poked his ribs, smiling at the shove on the shoulder and the giggle he earned. 

“Bullshit. You’re cool and fun Eddy, when you manage to get out of your own head, and a lot of people know that, that’s why you already have other friends, whatever your mom thinks. It just so happened that we are closer to each other than we are to our other friends. It happens, there’s nothing wrong with having a best friend. At least I think so, otherwise I’m just as screwed as you.”

He saw Eddy’s face lit up, and he realized they had never said it before - best friends. He would feel awkward, except the other was glowing, and seemed delighted enough that Brett decided his slip up was a good thing.

“Even if at one point we end up separated because, huh, life. I’m positive you’ll make tons of other friends and you’ll be happy anyway, so, yeah, you tell your mother to have a little more faith in you!” Eddy shook his head as if the mere thought of talking back to his mother paralyzed him. “And, just for the record, I need you too alright. I just show it differently, you can at least tell her that. I won’t just leave you, you’re my friend just as much as I’m yours. I mean who will tune my violin if you’re not around anymore?”

His shoulder got another shove, but he could barely feel it under their laughter.

Brett had never felt more determined to prove someone wrong than he had been showing Mrs.Chen with each passing year that he would not leave Eddy’s side. Feeling a sharp pang of satisfaction, of pride, of confidence in their friendship, when, fifteen years later, he would say hello to her, thinking Brett will be here forever. And he could see in her eyes that at one point in this relationship he had proven himself enough that she had trusted him with his son.

“But your best friend, they are always here.”

Chapter Text

Miriam

The girl had been fun and chill, she played the piano and dated her best friend.

They started talking a bit more than they would have with other fans, even ended up having coffee together, because well, she was fun and chill. And she dated her best friend - It was hard to miss, she talked a lot about it - and it was weirdly fascinating.

“There was this point,” she had said with a smile softer than a cotton flower. “I realized every one of my past relationships revolved around her, one way or another.”

Is he the same? He wonders while snuggling under the covers of his childhood bed, scrolling on his phone without really paying attention to the screen lighting up his face.

Did his previous relationships revolve around his best friend?

He isn’t the introspective kind, he leaves that to Eddy. Brett would rather live life, trying not to second guess himself, throwing himself fully into everything without looking too far behind or ahead.

He drops his phone on the mattress and turns on his back, gazing at the ceiling without seeing it, feeling warm and cozy, secure in the darkness of the room, a soft happiness at the center of his belly, unfurling tendrils all the way to his fingertips, down to his toes, tingling in his throat.

His very first relationship was very much about Eddy, now that he thinks about it. Had they been different persons, everything could have turned quite badly, and he is so, so glad they had never let that bit of teenage drama ruin their friendship.   

Her name was Miriam. Miriam Carter.

Brett was fifteen when he met her, barely seventeen when he dated her, not yet eighteen when they broke up.

When she had joined the Youth Orchestra as a trombone player, Brett and Eddy had already been playing there for a year. She was half Spanish, half Australian. Her soft brown hair would curl whenever it was humid, her dark eyes were hidden behind glasses, and her skin had a lot of acne.

She was a bit of a genius and a complete nerd - also very socially awkward. Skipped a few grades and loved to talk about astrophysics, anime and indie games nobody else knew about. Her laughter was braying, and you always knew when she was in the room.

Eddy was enamoured with her.

But Eddy was terrified of girls.

So, from the shyness that was eating him alive at fourteen, he had asked Brett to get close to Miriam so he could maybe have an opportunity to talk to her.

*

Miriam was friends with Jeanie Benitez, a first chair violin player whose stand was beside Brett’s, Eddy had explained. The plan was pretty simple, Brett would befriend Jeanie, hence Miriam would start to hang out with them, and realize Eddy existed. As plans go, it probably wasn’t the best, but worked effectively enough. 

The four of them had become tentative friends. It had taken a few weeks of Eddy silently sitting in the background before he gathered the resolve to start talking a bit to Miriam when they hung out during breaks, and Brett had never felt so proud.

*

Eddy’s shyness at that time had been a force to be reckoned with. Whenever they would need to talk to someone, he would physically hide behind Brett’s back - even though he was already taller than him - and avert his eyes while Brett did the talking in his best friend’s place, then follow him back and wait until it was just the two of them to give his opinion.

If he had to, Brett thought with possessiveness, he would shelter Eddy from the world until their last day. He never said so aloud, because even at fifteen, he realised he was maybe a bit dramatic, but nobody needed to know that. 

Still, seeing him through the months coming out of his shell, talking with more and more animation to Jeanie and Miriam, showing with little gestures he was getting comfortable around people that weren’t Brett or his family felt better than winning a competition had ever been. All warm and proud and happy.

He even liked to think it was partly thanks to him. That he was responsible for his best friend opening himself up. He liked feeling like he was making a difference in Eddy’s life.

*

It all became complicated a year after.

When it started to be obvious that Miriam had a crush.

On Brett.

*

Everybody in the orchestra teased them - go sit with your girlfriend, Bretty - and he was getting a bit tired of the - just ask her out -

Brett always chose not to see it and could people please mind their own damn business? Was their life so annoying they had to become crazy every time a boy was close to a girl?

Because at each of those interactions, he could see his best friend closing up and bitterness poison his speech.

Eddy apologised every time he felt he was being annoying, insecurity filtering through his stammered excuses. As if he was afraid Brett would stop being his friend if he dared to show he was not okay with the girl he liked crushing on his best friend. 

*

So he grabbed him by the shoulders one evening, when they were eating instant ramen because Brett’s parents were out, and forced him to meet his gaze - Eddy always seemed to be looking at him, except when Brett actually wanted him too, the brat. - You have the right to be jealous - he had said - you have the right to be selfish. I’m not going to just stop being your friend because you have feelings -

“I’m sorry,” was his only answer

“Damnit, Bro, stop apologizing! I don’t want you to be sorry, I want you to be happy!”

Eddy fidgeted at that, biting his index finger, fighting a smile.

“You’re so cheesy when you’re mad,” he finally snorted, letting go of his finger to grab his chopstick. “I should piss you off more often.”

“You don’t piss me off. It’s the situation, not you.”

The tension fell, but something was still amiss in his chest, as if somebody had grabbed some of his organs and moved them around. And now nothing was where it was supposed to, some functions were missing, and others overworking. He wanted to keep talking until he could find the right words. He liked talking anyway, and Eddy always listened - except when he was being annoying on purpose. But he saw Eddy nudge his ramen with his chopsticks and take a breath, lungs expanding, so he shut up and gave him time. 

Because, Belle had taught him, Eddy already had an idea of what he wanted to hear, what he wanted from people when he needed to feel better. And if Brett listened closely enough, his best friend would give the keys to his psyche, trusting that he would use the knowledge for comfort.

“I don’t understand why I’m not good enough for her,” he finally let go under his breath, the sound so tiny Brett would have missed it if he hadn’t already been attuned to everything coming out of Eddy’s mouth. “What do you have that I don’t? Everybody likes you first, what could I do to be more like you?”

 At that moment, Brett had three weird thoughts and a wave of feeling.

The first thought was mingled with happiness. That their friendship was so strong that even when he was the source of Eddy’s anguish, he was still the first person his friend would turn to for comfort.

The second was laced with pride. Did people really like him that easily? Was there something special about him? Special enough to make people - Eddy - want to be like him?

The third was tinted by resentment. Why did Eddy have to dump this on him? How was he supposed to deal with this? Should he just stop having people appreciate him so Eddy would feel better? Did his best friend not think that now, every time somebody would laugh at his jokes, he would feel guilty of taking the spotlight from him? That all his interactions with others would now be marred by Eddy’s “what do you have that I don’t?”

The wave, the feeling that took precedence over all other thoughts, raw protectiveness clogging his throat, was: “Oh, Eddy… No.” 

He ruffled his best friend’s hair and kissed his forehead, giving himself some time to think about what to say, gave up and opted for bluntness.

“Listen dude, you need to stop comparing yourself to other people. We are different, everybody is different from everybody, nobody is the same...”

“Those will be remembered as your last words.”

“Shut up, dickhead,” Brett chuckled, swatting the back of Eddy’s head. “What I’m trying to say is, of course I have things you don’t have, and you have things I don’t have. We’re just freaking different people and that’s okay. I know for a fact some of the girls at your high school wouldn’t say no if you asked them out. Some of the people who like you don’t like me as much and vice versa, doesn’t mean any of us is better than the other. And I think I wouldn’t like you very much if you were like me.”

“I know that, theoretically, but...” he shrugged and never finished his sentence.

So Brett pushed their bowls away and stood up - the ramen kept getting stuck in his braces anyway - slamming his hands on the table.

“C’mon, stop getting too far into that head of yours. Wanna try to play your Prokofiev backward?”

“What the fuck, Bro.”

But Eddy was already standing up, ready to follow Brett with whatever new stupid idea he would have.

*

That evening, Brett kept playing horrendously until Eddy was howling with laughter, sprawled on the floor hugging his violin with tears in the corner of his eyes.

*

“I need money,” Eddy had said.

Brett hadn’t questioned it, said - Yeah? -  and had dragged up Eddy and their violins on the streets and malls of Brisbane. They had started busking then - played Navarra for the first time in front of strangers. Eddy at fifteen had a face cute enough that people would feel endeared and they made quite a lot of cash - It’s because you’re so small - his best friend had giggled - they think you’re a little kid -

Since Brett didn’t really need the money apart for the occasional bubble tea and lunch outings with classmates, he would slip some his half into the other’s when he wasn’t looking, and if his friend ever noticed, he never said anything.

He had always assumed Eddy was doing it to relieve some of the financial burden from his parents’ shoulder.

It didn’t even hit him as weird when they started busking almost every day during February. 

He should have seen it coming, in retrospect, knowing how Eddy was.

So when Eddy showed up at his door with the biggest smile on the third of March, after school, with cakes, recordings, silly doodles of Brett as Itzhak Perlman or Hilary Hahn and dozens of small gifts that Brett would open all throughout the evening, whenever his friend judged it was appropriate, he mumbled - of course - (of course Eddy would chose to spend all his money on his friends, no wonder Eddy’s mother was worried) and let the idiot in. They ended up not sleeping, trying to hold back their laughter and keep the fooling around from getting too loud because Brett’s parents had to get up early in the morning. 

Eddy’s smile was more tentative, still shy, when he offered Miriam the telescope - Brett would have been jealous, but still felt he had had the best birthday gift of the two.

Some part of him though, would like Eddy to stop giving all the time (especially because after so much time busking, Brett was still the one who had to pay Eddy his bubble teas).

*

When the first text came in he had only been seventeen for a few weeks, and Eddy barely sixteen. 

They were at an orchestra rehearsal, trying to play on each other’s violin, and Brett’s brand new Iphone vibrated on the stand. 

Miriam

 

“I like you”

 

“Like, as a friend?”

 

“No dumbass, in the romantic way”

 

“Oh” 

“Okay”

“Cool”

He could feel her gaze from behind, and Jeanie’s from a few sit beside. 

He did not want this. 

So he did the only thing he always did when he was lost. He turned to Eddy and sneakily showed him the conversation with dread pooling in his stomach.

And then Eddy - stupid, stupid Eddy - put Brett’s violin down in a record time and freaking hugged him in the middle of the Orchestra. A full blown hug, with gangly arms all around him, face in his neck, patting him on the back, voice cracking a bit too loudly.

“Oh, Bro! I’m so, so sorry.”

Brett blinked, now doubly as lost and embarrassed and then he felt Eddy slowly tense against him.

“Oh fuck,” he whispered. “I just understood who sent what.”

A nervous giggle escaped Brett.

“What the fuck does that even mean?”

His best friend stayed in the embrace, hiding his warmer and warmer face in Brett’s neck.

“I thought…. I misread, I thought you told Miriam you liked her, and she was the one telling you Okay, cool - And it just- God, I got just now it was the opposite. I’m a dumbass. Fuck. She’s watching you now is she? Oh fuck what will she think now? She’ll think I’m sorry for you because she likes you? Brett, kill me. Now.”

And then Brett lost it. He laughed so hard he had to shake his friend off in hopes of getting his breath back, and even when the conductor yelled at him, even when Jeanie looked at him disapprovingly, he just snuck a glance at Eddy’s red face and, and - the freaking idiot! How was he friend with such an idiot? - and he kept cackling madly. 

* 

A familiar fondness spread when he realized later that Eddy had thought he was confessing to his crush. That he had thought Brett would steal the girl he liked from him. 

And his first reaction had been to hug him with all he had.

Fucking idiot.

*

“What are you going to do?”

“Nothing, she didn’t ask me if I liked her back, so I guess I’ll just, like, accept the fact that she likes me and hopes she moves on.”

“Mh.”

*

The next text came in a week later when he was at the Chen household, sprawled on Eddy’s bed in his pyjamas, listening to recordings.

Miriam

 

“So… do u want to date me?”

All he felt was panic.

He scrambled with his phone and turned to his best friend, shoving the screen under his nose.

“Shit, shit, Man, what do I do?” he squeaked.

Eddy opened his mouth, but then, coming from his computer, the first notes of Elgar’s Salut d’Amour resonated in the room. They looked at each other and Eddy wiggled his eyebrows. 

Brett lost it.

When they calmed down, he still had no clue how to answer.

“Do it.” 

“What?”

Eddy was looking at him with determination, Salut d’Amour still playing in the background.

“Go for it What’s the worst that can happen? At least you’ll have tried.”

“I can’t believe I’m hearing that from you… Bro, you’ve crushed on this girl for like two years. I’m not going to date her. I don’t even think I like Miriam.”

There was some shuffling, Eddy turned off the overhead light, the warm glow of the bedside lamp allowing them to still look at each other. He let out a loud breath and tapped the spacebar of the computer. The music stopped. 

“I- I’ve known for a while I would never date her,” Eddy started slowly, licking his lips as he thought about his next words and Brett made a mental note to take some chapstick for him. “But I keep hoping. I keep hoping that if I make her laugh loud enough, if I offer her something nice enough she’ll like me.”

“Hence the fucking telescope,” Brett mumbled under his breath. Eddy ignored him and kept talking.

“Even though part of me knows it- it won’t happen. And it’s fucking poisoning everything. It’s making me jealous, it’s making me second guess every interaction, as if I can’t just fucking appreciate being with people I like. As if- as if everything has to have a double meaning. I hate it.”

Brett nudged his feet with his own. Trying to offer a modicum of comfort. His friend offered him a small smile and put his ankle on top of Brett’s. It was bony and it kind of hurt, but he didn’t move away.

“So, huh, yeah, all of this to say,” he continued. “Weirdly enough, I think you dating Miriam would actually make me finally let go of that stupid crush. Because I don’t think I can physically be angry with you or want to take something from you. I’ll be more focused on how I’m happy for you instead of being sad for me.”

“Dude, you’re not making any sense.”

“Just, basically, I think I’ll be better if the two of you are actually together. I’ve thought about this a lot, trust me.”

“Oh. Okay. I should try it then?”

Eddy nodded, his bunny teeth showing, and Brett fiddled with his phone.

“What should I answer? Just Yes? She’s been waiting for like, fifteen minutes.”

“Go for it, Dude. Yes is good enough, she’s not dumb.”

His hands suddenly started shaking, and his pulse ricocheted. He was about to have a girlfriend! For the first time in his life! He typed his answer without processing anything other than his raging heartbeat, and let his phone drop on the sheets.

“That’s it. I’ve got a girlfriend,” he looked at Eddy owlishly and they both started chuckling, their nerves apparent in the unevenness of the sound.

His best friend let himself fall on the sheet, jostling the computer, and pressed the spacebar to have some music.

It was still Salut d’Amour.

Their laughter was instantly ten times more genuine.

“Oh Man,” Eddy muttered after managing to get his breath under control “I knew it. I feel so much more free now.”

“I still don’t get it, but okay.”

Brett laid on the bed too, staring at the ceiling, waiting for the music to switch to Romeo and Juliet Overture - which still managed to get an amused snort out of them - and thought that whatever the outcome, at least Eddy was fucking finally going to feel better.

Brett turns off the camera, and instantly feels drained. On his left, his friend leans back in his chair with a long suffering groan, his head hitting the window behind and messing up the curtains. They both badly want to sleep after a day of filming non-stop, but they should at least send the footage of their Jubilee-like “Do all Classical Musicians think the same” to their editor so they can start working on it.

He rewatches some parts and does not try to ignore the warm, fluttery feeling when he comes across the “For me it’s obvious, I wouldn’t have met Brett if it wasn’t through music” part. The way he said it - it sounds like Brett is the goal and music the mean. It is insanely flattering and he almost cannot bring himself to turn toward Eddy who has his chin propped up on his palm, looking at him unapologetically, his smile and eyebrows daring Brett to question him. So Brett just snorts but doesn’t hide his grin and pokes him in the ribs, relishing in the giggles it elicits, hoping everything about him conveys the silent “You’re my goal too”.  

Then it’s Phoebe talking about her husband, and Eddy sighs.

“Their story is amazing. How cool it must be to be married to someone sharing all your passions. They breathe music together … ”

Eddy can be so corny sometimes. And weirdly invested in other people’s relationships.

“Nothing like what we’ve experienced, hey,” Brett’s musings from a few weeks ago come back full force and he can’t keep the chuckle from escaping. “Remember Miriam? The whole thing was so fucking awkward. She and I got together by text while I wasn’t even into her! And you almost had a panic attack just at the thought of dating her.”

“Oh yeah,” Eddy starts laughing. “Almost forgot we shared our first girlfriend.”

“Bro, people are going to get the wrong idea if you put it like that,” he replies while getting up to go make some tea for them.

“People are already getting the wrong idea!” his friend’s voice calls from his back, getting a snort out of him.

It is starting to be late, but they still have a lot to do before Brett can go home - review the footage, send it to Editor-san, plan the next filming session, the next merch drop - and he's starting to consider spending the night here. End the evening by a few rounds of Smash Bros, probably watch some show - that Eddy will get way too invested in - and eat junk food - with Eddy complaining about getting fat - while laughing every time one of them says something idiotic, or even look at the other in a funny way.

He wants to spend time with his best friend tonight, not his business partner. 

“Every one of my past relationships revolved around her, one way or another.” 

The thought is unbidden, whispered in the voice of the girl they had met as he’s coming back to the living room - where Eddy has migrated - with two cups and tea bags dangling from them.

“The worst is,” he ends up saying, because apparently sometimes he has no control over his mouth. “I only dated her because of you, I wasn’t even really interested, hence the whole one-sided break-up debacle.”

“Wait, what? What one-sided break-up debacle?” he blinks.

“Bro! You don’t remember? How can you not remember? You were there every step of the way!” 

He laughs because Eddy’s memory is terrible and his best friend is an idiot, he laughs because the one-sided break-up debacle was pretty funny now that he thinks about it and he laughs because he already knows Eddy’s reaction will be hilarious once he reminds him. 

He starts retelling the story, and as expected, Eddy is in tears, interjecting - Oh, yeah! Fuck yeah, I remember how cringy your fucking speech was -  when Brett is on the part where he realized after two weeks of pseudo-dating he didn’t like it and tried to break it off. But since he wanted to let Miriam down gently, he hadn’t been explicit enough, babbling about how important she was but maybe they should focus on conducting their couple toward the rock that was the stability of their friendship.

And so for about three weeks, he had been sure he wasn’t in a relationship anymore. The thing was, Miriam had still very much been in a relationship with him. And Brett had only realized the slight misunderstanding when she had frowned after he evaded a kiss for the third time - Hey, isn’t kissing supposed to be normal when you’re a couple? -

And it had hit Brett that the kinda inappropriate texts she had been sending him could be considered normal if coming from a girlfriend. That she walked with him after every rehearsal and invited him home every time probably because she thought she was in a relationship with Brett... While Brett thought he wasn’t in a relationship with Miriam.

And he had frozen so much upon that realization that he hadn’t managed to duck the next kiss or say anything. Apart from “I need to text Eddy.”

All he had managed to type was:

Eddy

 

    “ Bro! she was still dating me when i wasn’t”

 

“?????”

And then Miriam had removed his phone from his hands saying something along the lines of : “There’s a time for everything, a time to text Eddy, and a time to pay attention to your girlfriend.”

So Brett had decided it was too late and too insensitive to answer “Hey, so you know, you are dating me, but I actually wasn’t dating you, so yeah, can you stop?” He just rolled with it, and found himself in a relationship again. Slightly unwillingly.

“Dude! Dude! How- how did I forget that?!” Eddy is actually melting from the couch, half on the floor, wheezing, arrhythmic hiccups in his breath. “The two of you ended up dating for months! You’re fucking ridiculous. Oh, Bro! The cringe!”

“I- I know! That- It were- was. I mean-” Brett would have replied more intelligibly if he could stop laughing.

The chortling subsides, after some time, and silence falls over their heads.

“Even the final break-up was awkward,” Brett mumbles after a few seconds. “And that one date at her house where I spend more time with her dog than her ‘cause she couldn’t stop playing video games, and all I thought about was Dang, I could’ve practiced.”

They exchange a look and start snickering again. At this point, Brett’s on the floor too, and he knows he’s not going back to his parents’ house tonight.

“Oh Man,” Eddy sighs, the tears in his eyes making them twice as sparkly - he looks like a happy puppy - Brett thinks. “I can’t believe I knew all of that, and still decided to date her like, barely a year after that cringe fest, it didn’t even last a few months, but still, poor Miriam. What was I thinking?”

“Nothing you were too busy crying.”

“What? No, I wasn’t.”

“You were.”

*

They realize after that the tea has infused too much, and is cold anyway.

A bottle of wine and two glasses end up on the table.

*

Brett wakes up on the couch with a blanket and a pillow he doesn’t remember falling asleep with, and the sounds of footsteps near his head. It is rare enough that he wakes up after Eddy to make him open his eyes and blink up at him incredulously.

All he gets as an answer is an eye roll conveying the non-verbal “C’mon, Bro. No need to act that surprised.” well enough. 

“Thanks,” he just says when his best friend hands him a cup of coffee. Eddy gives him a sleepy smile, his bed hair is a bird’s nest and Brett feels so fucking happy he could burst.

Chapter Text

Anna

It was right before the beginning of quarantaine, a cloudy and wintry weather that made music with the tree leaves. They had been on what was one of their last coffee outings in a long time.

Comfortable with the silence, they hadn’t really been talking. Eddy doing some last minute editing on his Mac while himself was scrolling through Instagram and reading fans’ comments. 

Brett had no idea, at the time, that a few chosen sentences from some stranger would slowly make him look at most of his life choices in a new light.

“It is a bit different I’ll admit,” she had laughed. “Dating your best friend. Because sometimes you forget the usual standards of a relationship. Like sharing. You already shared, experienced everything together, so everything else just feels natural, never a big step, just a continuation.”

They had nodded while sipping their drinks because it had made sense. But then she had kept going.

“Like distance too. We can be apart from quite some time and be fine. Because it’s always been like that. I miss her, but I can live my own life because when we see each other again, time and distance could have never existed. I guess because I am used to having her in my life while living outside of her, but for her at the time? I don’t think I’m making any sense.”

Eddy had hummed. “I think I understand.”

Brett hadn’t, but Eddy had always been smarter than him.

He finds himself thinking about it, the way you have a piece of music stuck in your head, appearing out of nowhere at any time, and half of your mind is not even registering it, going on about your day, and the other is stuck on singing the same phrase on a loop, obsessed with it. 

So Eddy opens the door for him, and Brett thinks What would change if we were dating? and at the same time makes fun of his bed hair, pushes Eddy out of the way while screaming - Violaaaa! It’s viola! - to let himself in because his best friend is being a dick and pretends to block the entry if he doesn’t get a password - Seriously, how old is he?

Then he brushes his teeth in the evening and remembers when they lived together and sometimes used each other's toothbrush because they were too tired and didn’t care enough. Do we really share everything? He muses, but then kind of forgets about it. 

He has to stay home because of his visit to the hospital, and they can’t see each other for a week. Filming alone is sad and empty, but other than that, he doesn’t have the time to actively miss Eddy, because he’s so used to having him around that it almost feels as if he’s here, in the corner of his eye, and when it doesn’t, they text or call. Is that what she meant? By ‘distance is different’?

He remembers his first year of uni, when distance had dug deep, but in the end had changed nothing between them, and he thinks maybe he’s starting to understand.

Her name was Anna. Anna Davis.

Brett was eighteen when he met her, still eighteen when he dated her, twenty when they broke up.

Even though she was in the Composition major, they shared the same Music History class at the con, and she had sat beside Brett at a time the chair next to him was empty. 

She was tall, taller than Brett - around Eddy’s size really - very thin and her face had a lot of angles.

She was so silent people tended to forget she was in the room, her voice was soft but when she spoke, it was either meaningful insights or low level jokes. Since Brett was a bit of an idiot, that kind of humour would always make him crack up. She also never really took anything too seriously.

She was the deeper connection he had been looking for, in the beginning.

*

Eddy had been half devastated they wouldn’t see each other as much, half giddy with anticipation for Brett to finally go to music uni and experience for him everything they thought it would be. The resulting mix had ended up with Eddy hugging him in tears but with the biggest smile when he had said goodbye, smooching his cheek full of saliva. Brett had whipped the drool from his face and rolled his eyes at the drama because they were still in the same goddamn city. Griffith University was in a different part of Brisbane, but still Brisbane, not the other side of the world.

He kept himself from making any comments, though. Feeling Mrs.Chen’s displeased stare on him.

*

Brett had gotten angry at Eddy’s Mom once. To this day the only thing he regretted was that it ended up with Eddy crying.

It was stupid. It was summer, they had been on the backseats of the car while she was driving, on their way to help her with some grocery shopping, sweating and half dying - why was it so hot ? - Brett had already graduated and was about to move to Griffith University in a few days, so he was busy spending the last part of January with his best friend. Mrs.Chen was asking Eddy about his plans for 12th grade, it started innocently enough, but she insisted he needed to get better, that he wouldn’t make it as a doctor if he didn’t plan on improving his grades. Eddy wasn’t saying anything. He knew his best friend had a poor opinion of himself, and it was an everyday effort to try to get him to have more self-confidence, to try to make him realize he was good at things, that people liked him.

So when Mrs.Chen started saying those things, those things he knew would haunt Eddy - You’re not good enough - You won’t make if you keep being lazy - he snapped because he wouldn’t let her destroy all the slow progress they had made on Eddy’s self-esteem.

He barely remembered what he said, something along the lines of  - leave him be, you don’t get to decide his worth, you don’t get to tell what will make him happy, you don’t get to tie him to your desires. - But less polite, less constructed, more raw.

She snapped back and they started fighting.

It only stopped once she got out of the car to go to the supermarket, leaving the boys in the car.

Still fuming, Brett turned to Eddy, ready to ramble  - Can you believe her? - Or - This is bullshit - Or….

But every word stayed stuck in his throat, because fat tears rolled down Eddy’s cheeks, his nose was red and runny and he was hyperventilating.

“Hey, hey, Eddy, Eddy, breath, please breath…”

He wanted to grab him but decided against it, feeling lost.

“Please, stop crying, what’s happening? Dude, talk to me!”

Choked words tried to come out of his best friend’s throat, and Brett ended up squeezing his hands.

Eddy snatched them off and broke.

“Why… Why did you? Why did you do this?! You can’t!” another strangled, furious sob. “You can’t fight! What am I- I… You can’t!

“Eddy please, you’re not making any sense. If it was anything I said I’m sorry. What was it? What did I say? Tell me so I know not to say it again.” 

He grabbed his hands again. There was no way he would go to university, leaving Eddy for weeks with one of his last memories of him being in the middle of a nervous breakdown.

“You can’t fight!” he said again. “What am I supposed to do, if I have to choose between you and my Mom? You can’t fight with her! You can’t put me in this situation! You can’t…” 

The rest was intelligible, cut by gasps and choked sobs.

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I won’t. I won’t fight with her, it’s going to be okay, I’m sorry,” he pushed back Eddy’s sweaty hair from his forehead. “Now breath please. C’mon, with me. In... Out… Good. Okay. Again...”

He had apologized once Mrs.Chen had come back into the car. It had cost him every ounce of pride he possessed, but Eddy’s red face, running nose and barely stable breathing made sure he went through with it. 

*

He carefully brought the subject back later, in the privacy of Eddy’s room. 

“I meant every word I said, bro. You’re still good even if she tells you you’re not. You’re the one who gets to decide what will make you happy.”

“She loves me,” Eddy answered.

“Dude, never said she didn’t. But I love you too, and you don’t see me telling you what should make you happy. Loving someone isn’t a getaway from everything.”

Eddy chuckled, and if it was a bit wet, Brett didn’t comment on it.

“Thanks, man.”

“Anytime.”

Eddy puckered his lips for a goodnight kiss and leaned toward him, smooching his cheek and cackling while Brett pretended to gag at the drool he could feel on his skin - Bro, you’re disgusting. He managed to get rid of the kiss by smashing Eddy with a pillow until he begged for mercy.

It only stopped with Eddy giggling into the sheets, buried under the pillow, and Brett couldn’t hold his own laughter either.

*

They spent the next day busking and playing duets, rosin and dust in his nose, the sun burning on his black hair, the aftertaste of boba pearl on the back of his tongue, music in his ears, passion and laughter between his ribs when he inadvertently met his best friend’s gaze.

*

Then he had left for uni.

*

Brett made friends easily, always had. He was funny, could be charming, liked talking and partying.

But even then, when he would crash in his dorm in the small hours of the morning and collapse in his bed, colors flying everywhere and his brain mushed from the alcohol, tasteless music still ringing in his ears, back from being surrounded by his new friends at the latest con party, he would feel a pang of loneliness. He missed Eddy. He missed the easy company. He missed the deeper connection. The feeling of belonging. 

Then he would fall asleep and wake up in the morning with a hangover and no recollection of this train of thought, just a string of texts without proper meaning sent to Eddy and a desire to connect.

So he had connected with Anna.

She was so easy to be around and it had come naturally - it helped that Music History was so boring the only way to survive it was to talk with each other. They didn’t share a lot outside of music, but she had a thought out opinion about everything on top of her open-mindedness. And she loved partying.

Then they started hanging out in each other’s dorm. She was so silent Brett sometimes forgot she was there until she cracked a joke. People made the mistake of thinking she was shy because of her weak presence and selectivity with words. But after five years of being friends with Eddy, Brett knew what shy was, and shy wasn’t Anna. 

*

Spending so much time with someone started dulling the sense of privacy, as well as private property. And both Brett and Eddy had a tendency to just grab the other’s computer or cellphone without asking, they even made sure to always have the same passwords so it would be more natural to unlock each other’s devices. 

As the months went on, he started doing the same with Anna. Grabbing her phone whenever he wanted to mess with their other friends by sending things she would never send, and she had followed suit - she particularly liked to send “potato” to Eddy via Brett’s phone, he was surrounded by weirdos.

When most people’s answer to that randomness would be a question mark, Eddy had just replied “ninja potato” along with a picture, a few minutes later, of a badly doodled potato with a shuriken and the naruto headband. Brett has felt so proud of how dumb his best friend was. Anna had declared she liked Eddy, and Brett thought privately that if she hadn’t, his friendship with her would have stopped there.

So he didn’t really second guess himself when he grabbed her phone, one time they were hanging out, and a text from one of her friends popped up. 

    “I know you like him but-” 

And Brett never got to see the rest.

Anna had snatched her phone back with a rare virulence.

“Did you read it?”

“No,” Brett lied.

*

He had called Eddy in a panic that evening - I think Anna likes me. 

“That was pretty obvious. Even from the perspective of someone who never met her, I could see she did. You’re really blind,” his best friend answered without any mercy.

“She doesn’t know I know though, so I don’t have to make any decision right now. But, man... It’s always sooo awkward when a friend wants you like this,” he whined, turning on his back. “Why does it happen?”

Pressed against his ear, the screen started gaining condensation. Eddy snorted from the other side of the phone.

“Dude, you can be pretty charming, you know. People like you.”

“What do you have that I don’t? Everybody likes you first, what could I do to be more like you?”

Of course he would remember this now. He knew it. He had fucking called it, knew when Eddy had said those words, a few years ago, that they would haunt him.

“People like you too,” he answered automatically.

“Not like this,” Eddy whispered.

He just had the time to feel his heart drop in his stomach before Eddy cleared his throat and changed the subject.

“So, anyway, we haven’t caught up in a while. Apart from making girls fall in love you left and right...” Brett groaned; he had the worst best friend. “What have you been up to? How’s the con?”

And Brett realized it had been a while. He had no idea what went on in Eddy's life either.

*

Brett cared about Eddy, but he also cared about their relationship. He liked having a best friend. He liked knowing that there was somebody outside of his family for whom he was the most important person. He liked knowing there was somebody that would think of him first when they had a problem. That there was somebody that would always have his back whenever he had a problem. He liked that Eddy would follow him wherever without asking any questions. At most a confused “Bro?” but already rising to meet Brett’s craziness.

It wasn’t just Eddy, it was Eddy over the years. Eddy and his faith in him. Eddy and his dependence, his neediness. Eddy and the ease between them.

He knew this friendship was something precious.

And he felt like maybe he was losing this special connection. It started scaring him shitless.

*

He became even more aware of it - of the distance - when he came back for winter break. And suddenly, Miriam wanted to date Eddy and he was crying about it - when had they gotten so close? - Mrs.Chen and her son were stuck in a Cold War about his future - was he going to join him at the con? He tried not to be too hopeful - his best friend had added new pieces to his repertoire and he kept talking about people Brett didn’t know. Even his violin playing was different.

And it hit him, how little they had communicated since he went to uni. They didn’t stop being friends, but they had stopped really talking and Brett had refused to be bitter about it and had forged on. He would live his life, he would be happy in uni, and he would always be friends with Eddy, even if they ended up talking twice a year, he had decided without conscientiously processing it.

But then they spent the entirety of winter break together. Going from the Yang residence to the Chen residence, and back again. It was all so painfully familiar, being with Eddy like this, practicing together every day, going out for bubble tea and listening to recordings in one of their rooms, spouting nonsense and losing their breath over every stupid shit the other would do.

Brett realized that even with distance, Eddy never stopped being his best friend. That not being near him didn’t stop him from thinking about him - how Eddy would have laughed when he said something stupid, how he would have called him out when Brett felt he didn’t practice enough, how he would have recoiled in horror when Brett saw a cockroach.That in a way, his best friend was always a bit with him, through each part of his daily life.

They didn’t need to be up to date with every little detail of the other’s life. The essence of their relationship ran deeper than physical closeness, the ease would never fade, the support would never melt, the happiness would never dry.

He would always be friends with Eddy, even if they ended up talking twice a year, he decided. With a smile on his lips this time.

*

Brett learned two things at the same time at the end of winter break.

First, Eddy started dating Miriam. And Eddy had actually cried that she finally wanted him like that, Brett’s heart had broken in a thousand pieces, and it had made him angry it had taken Miriam so long - actual years! How could it take years to love Eddy? - to understand how amazing his best friend was (somewhere deep inside, he had wished he could have been the one to make Eddy realize he was wanted).

Second, Eddy told him music was his life, and he would pursue a music degree at Griffith. And, sure, Brett was proud that Eddy stood up to his mother, he was glad that he was taking decisions for himself, seeking what made him happy. But mostly, he was fucking exstatic at the perspective of having his best friend there with him in months. He had laughed giddily for no reason the entire day. 

*

And when Brett went back to the con and looked at Anna, her soft presence, stupid jokes and tall silhouette, he asked her out. 

*

They kept being so busy.

It didn’t help that right when Eddy’s mom had started warming up to him, she closed off again, once she decided Brett was a bad influence for being the one encouraging her son into going to music uni and throwing away his chances at a good future. So, between Eddy working every minute of the day to prove to his mother that he was good enough, both of them practicing the violin for hours on end and trying to spend what little free time they had with their respective girlfriend, they didn’t talk much more.

But it was okay.

Because between them, distance was different.

It doesn’t mean he isn’t missing him though.

It doesn’t mean he isn’t fucking excited when he lets himself in Eddy’s appartement after more than a week of his self-imposed confinement.

It doesn’t mean Eddy stops himself from putting his violin down and engulfing him in a bear hug when he notices him passing the door. Nuzzling his face against Brett hair - I missed you, it was lonely.

*

Brett comes back from the restroom, in between the recording of two videos, still a bit high from how happy he feels about freely roaming in his best friend’s apartment again, about filming together. Since they had started living together in Singapore, being here, sharing his space with him seems more natural than being at his own house. Feels more like home than the place he grew up in.

“Sometimes you forget the usual standards of a relationship. Like sharing. You already shared, experienced everything together, so everything else just feels natural, never a big step, just a continuation.”

And he realizes.

“Hey, we’ve never kissed before.”

Eddy doesn’t even look at him, focused on the footage they just filmed.

“Bro, we kissed tons of times.” 

“No,” he chuckles, remembering the smooches on the cheek when they want to be annoying, and the soft kisses on the forehead when they want to be protective. “I meant, on the mouth. Like, we’ve shared an apartment, a toothbrush, a bed, even our first girlfriend technically,” Eddy snorted at that. “It just hit me that we never did that.”His best friend finally raises his gaze from his computer screen and looks at him with smirking lips but thoughtful eyes.

“And what? I can’t call you my best friend until we’ve kissed at least once?”

“Obviously.”

They share a grin and Brett pushes Eddy’s teacup toward him before sitting on his chair, right beside his partner, ready for another recording session. Everything is soft - except for the glaring light of their studio lamp. He stares at his profile for a while - a lot of angles, he remembers thinking once - and leans closer. His best friend looks at him without surprise, smiles a bit and obligingly turns his head so their mouths can meet. It’s the softest kiss Brett ever shared, a short and warm thing without further meaning than a desire to be close. He feels the smile that never left Eddy’s lips against his and leans away, feeling good and warm and happy. He grabs his phone and his mug of coffee, conscientious of how hard the ceramic feels against his mouth.

“So now that we kissed, are we true best friends?” Eddy teases, standing up to fiddle with the camera - Brett knows he’ll have to check after him, because Eddy can’t focus a camera for the life of him.

“The bestest,” he answers.

*

It is as if something unlocks after they kissed for the first time. 

Brett has this thing where he is always grossed out by the thought of kissing someone before actually doing it. If he’s never done it, his brain can’t picture the image, can’t depict the feeling. He knows Eddy has a tendency to fantasize a lot about intimacy he’s never shared, but Brett can’t, no matter how much he loves the person - one of the reasons he lost his virginity so late - physical intimacy had little to no appeal until he tried it for the first time.

But he kissed Eddy now. Or Eddy kissed him. Whatever, they kissed.

And it’s everywhere in his thoughts. Not in a bad, panicky way though. More of a “it’s nice and I wouldn’t mind doing it again” way.

They film a video and Eddy stares at him like he always does; his whole body turned toward him, like nothing else matters, never minding the camera and the sharp looks of the fans. With so much intensity Brett thinks “maybe he wants to kiss me again” and then he can see it, he can feel it, and he thinks “I could kiss him” But he doesn’t, says something stupid instead and the moment passes.

Eddy leans over him to grab his phone charging on the other side of the sofa, his face is close, and Brett doesn't even have the time to think, his brain just supplies him with the memory of warm lips and hot breath against his, even when nothing happens.

They were supposed to be filming and Brett has to shake Eddy awake after letting himself in, because his stupid best friend is still snoring and they are already behind schedule. Then Eddy blinks slowly, groans and tries to hide his head behind a stuffed animal, mumbling nonsense. It looks adorable, and when Brett removes the plushie and flicks Eddy’s nose, the rant he had prepared disappears in the face of his best friend smiling up at him - Hurry up and get ready - he just says, leans down, realizes Eddy has morning breath and correct his trajectory to peck him on the forehead before leaving the bedroom, avoiding his friend’s grabby hands and whiny voice.

It doesn’t change the fact his initial target was his mouth.

Maybe Brett wants it because kissing was always meant to be part of their friendship, just another way of conveying they care.

Chapter Text

Gareth

She hadn’t stopped talking about her girlfriend, but maybe that was their fault. They kept asking.

After all, people had assumed Brett and Eddy were together so often - they played it up, it had always made them laugh - that actually meeting someone who dated their childhood friend was like seeing a reflection of what they could have been through the mirror of a parallel universe. Like slightly distorted, female versions of themselves. 

Their unnatural fascination for the subject had been seen through, though, and as if reading their stray thoughts, she had reassured.

“It just so happens that we ended up dating, but that wasn’t necessary, that wasn’t inevitable. We didn’t need it. She was already the most important person in my life. We already lived together, ate together, shared everything. We could have stayed like this for the rest of our life, best friends, and nothing would have been amiss. Just because you are so very close to someone doesn’t mean you have to date them, whatever the gender. Girlfriend isn’t a step above best friend, it is a lateral one.”

This time, Brett had understood fully from the get go.

The day is especially sunny, if cold, and between the blue sky, the flowers and their laughter, the world is full of colors. There is giddiness around them, in the sharpness of the air, and it is a struggle to keep a straight face on the photos, because everything makes him want to smile.

Eddy adjusts the last flower behind his ear, brushing his hair back with all the gentleness he can muster. The petals are tickling him a bit, but he knows it will be nothing compared to Eddy’s reaction when he will have to put the flowers all over him. His friend steps back and admires his work of art, looking satisfied. There is something in the way he looks at him that sparks familiar feelings in Brett. Some kind of happiness that wants to make him cry. 

And then Eddy leans and kisses him softly.

It is barely stronger than the brush of the yellow daisy against his throat. Barely louder than the wind playing with his hair. 

“Bro, that was gay.”

“You have soft lips.” Eddy shrugs with a face that says “We are always kind of gay.” And Brett rolls his eyes but leaves it at that.

He was right, kissing is meant to be part of their friendship.

*

After that, Brett takes Eddy’s picture, almost pisses himself when Eddy shakes off all the flowers while screaming because - It tickles, Dude, I can’t! -  

They finally get it done, and then Brett doesn’t want to post it. He feels protective of this Eddy looking at him through the camera, vulnerable in the midst of flowers. He convinces his partner not to release it immediately on Instagram - to build the anticipation - and when it is finally out, and he can see the comments on TwoSet Apparel, it is as if some part of him is exposed, ripped from his chest and put on display on social media.

Eddy doesn’t seem to have the same issue, with how proudly he displays their shared work of art everywhere, and then makes him do it.

Flower boi, really? - Dude, you have to put an ‘i’ not a ‘y’, c’mon they have to match - and God... Eddy is ridiculous and lucky Brett is weak.

He gives him his phone so his best friend can happily type whatever he wants on Brett’s Instagram and stares at the way his teeth rest on his lower lip, like an overgrown bunny. Considering how close they are, he reflects, it is a small wonder his first kiss with a guy wasn’t with Eddy.

His name was Gareth. Gareth Hardman.

Brett was barely twenty when he met him, still twenty when he kissed him, and then never saw him again.

He was the friend of a friend of a friend, and an engineering student that had wanted to take violin lessons, so during his third year at the con, Brett showed up twice a week at his tiny apartment.

He had curly dark hair that tried but failed to hide his too big ears, grey eyes that sparkled a lot, thick eyelashes, thick eyebrows and was never properly shaved.

He was serious, liked listening to what people had to say and wasn’t deterred by the fact everybody told him twenty was too old to start learning the violin, and Brett could respect that. He was very intense, and he had this way of looking at people like they were the most important thing in the universe.

It had taken Brett some time to realize it, but he thought he could be forgiven, given how his life at the time had revolved around practice, Anna, their group of friends and Eddy. How could he have taken the time to ponder about a potential crush on a boy he barely knew when he had the most amazing girlfriend, and Eddy, freaking stupid Eddy, had hurt himself so badly?

*

It wasn’t that he had doubted his best friend per se, but he had seen first hand the pressure Mrs.Chen was putting on his shoulders, had listened to him rant about studying for medicine - I just want to show her I’m good enough, don’t worry, I’m not actually going to become a doctor. Music is my life - but Brett had worried. He didn’t like second guessing things, but as long as Eddy wasn’t inside Griffith, he would keep himself from hoping too hard.

It had been slightly bittersweet, when Eddy had called him, bursting with joy - Bro! I got the highest score! I fucking made it into med school, I wheezed through this thing! - and he had laughed, and by the creak of the wood, Brett knew he was jumping around in his room.

Sweet for the obvious - I’m fucking proud of you Eddy! You deserve that. Go show your mother how good enough you were. - it was a vindictive sort of sweetness, he felt the pride, the happiness, the reward all the way to his bones, as if they were his own. 

Bitter because, what if he goes there now? He can make it. He’s more than smart enough to become a surgeon or something. What if he stops playing?

*

But when Eddy barged into his house after his audition, throwing himself all over Brett, all smug - It was easy - but already breaking down his playing - I think I could have done better on the fast passage, I really hope the con will help me correct my tenths, but Brett, you’ll show me around, won’t you? Tell me which classes are worth it - Brett felt so immensely silly for doubting even for a quarter of a second that music was Eddy’s life.

*

In little less than three months, Brett's full name at the con had become Brett-and-Eddy. They performed every week, so of course everyone knew about them. The two Asian dudes, the weirdly popular, funny but serious duo. It had helped immensely, he thought, that Eddy had hit puberty during his last high school years and had decided he would be a fashion icon - seriously, it was no wonder he was always late considering the time he took to get ready. He wasn’t a scrawny kid tagging along Brett anymore, he was that tall, funny, kinda handsome guy with perfect pitch and very good violin playing. 

And maybe his happiness at the time had been to blame for not realizing how stressed his best friend was becoming, how many hours he would spend in practice rooms, outside with his violin, how he would massage his wrists first thing in their morning and last in the evening.

Maybe it could have been foreshadowed, after all, Eddy always had had a tendency to overwork himself when he was stressed out or insecure. But Brett had been nineteen, happy and naive when his best friend joined the same music university as him. He had thought - he’s doing something he loves all day - and - his mother isn’t on his back anymore so it’s cool - even - he’s getting popular and handsome now, girls are after him and everything - no more reasons to be insecure. He had managed to overlook the paralyzing performance anxiety that would size Eddy whenever he grabbed his bow in front of an audience - we’ll work on it - he had thought and left it at that. 

But Eddy, despite Brett’s careful surveillance, always managed to go from one problem to another.

*

It wasn’t always so one-sided though. Sometimes, Brett forgot who was older in this relationship. Eddy could be weirdly fussy, he discovered in uni. He would make sure Brett slept, started carrying around ibuprofen so he would always have one handy when Brett had a headache, he would physically remove his violin from his hands when Brett was on a five hours streak of practice. He would bring an extra jumper in case Brett got cold, and would remove fragile objects from his surroundings when Brett would get too excited and start wildly jumping around.

He would be the one stopping them from going to another party when they had exams the morning after, the little voice whispering in Brett’s ears when he would go too far with a joke, the elbow in his ribs when it was time to shut up and listen, the slightly disapproving glance when Brett forgot about an important date with Anna.

Eddy’s roommate had deserted the dorms in the first few months of the year, so Brett had practically taken permanent residence there when he wasn’t staying the night with Anna.

The old married couple joke had started going around more and more, and the fact Eddy dated a few girls and Brett was in a serious relationship didn’t deter anyone. To be fair, they deserved it.

*

There had been this one party in uni, Brett had invited Gareth on a whim. He was the same age as them after all, and seemed like a lonely guy, getting out and meeting other musicians would surely be good for him, he had thought at the time.

Gareth had looked at him from behind his thick eyelashes without answering for a while, his cheap violin still in hand and when he had said “okay” it had carried an intensity Brett hadn’t been ready for.

As all students do, they played the dumbest games, and the more people were inebriated, the less the games had maturity. Spin-the-Bottle, Musical Truth-or-dare, Never-have-I-ever, all those things nobody had played sober since they were thirteen.

They played Shoot, Shag, Marry at one point.

Without hesitation, Brett married his best friend. 

How bad could it be? He had argued when people made cooing noises. They practically lived in each other’s pocket, never fought, talked about their problems, worked well together and Eddy was definitely making him a better person.

More daring, brazen, ready to conquer the world, but also more open, sensitive, more in tune with who he wanted to be - but that, even in his drunken haze, he hadn’t said aloud.

Also, he made him laugh like nobody else.

(He had chosen to shag Gareth, and little did he know this wasn’t the only thing that was going to be true.)

*

He had really loved Anna. She had been good for him in a way none of his other romantic adventures ever would, of course, he had no idea the time that she would be one of the best memories he would have of a relationship. They didn’t really do a lot of things together, mostly hung out and practiced, but every moment was peaceful. They trusted each other and did not need to be together every minute of the day or texting non stop. 

Brett liked her self-confidence, the way she carried herself, all soft and silent, but secure in the knowledge her close ones loved her and she loved herself. She never needed big declarations, fancy dates, or constant reminders of love.

He also liked her acceptance. She accepted everything about him without judgement; his grumpiness when he was tired, his forgetfulness when it came to important dates - like birthdays. Mostly, she accepted that with Brett came Eddy. 

“If he needs me, I’ll have to be there for him.”

“It’s okay, friendships like those are precious.” Anna said - had Brett already ranted about how amazing Anna was? 

He hadn’t told her exactly like that, but she knew what he meant, that Eddy would always be his priority, that girlfriend wasn’t above best friend. And she understood.

So when he learned about Eddy’s accident, he left her bed without a single second of hesitation, gathered his things, gave her a quick kiss on the lips, a - don’t wait for me - and rushed out of the room to the hospital. 

He wouldn’t set a foot in her room for the weeks that followed. 

*

Eight months. Eight fucking months without playing, Brett didn’t know if he should be feeling sad or furious. Furious that Eddy had overworked himself to this point, furious he hadn’t noticed earlier. Sad that his best friend was stuck in a wheelchair, sad he would lose his drive and his energy.

He was also terrified it would make Eddy give up on music.

The window was open, but the noise of the passing cars couldn’t be heard above the sobs of the boy in his arms. It must have been two or three in the morning and everything was dark in the dorm room, the moon casting off an eerie glow on the wall, not reaching their form, curled up on Eddy’s too small bed. 

Brett kept mumbling nonsense, about how it was going to be okay, about not giving up on dreams, about recovering from it. But his shirt kept being drenched by tears that wouldn’t stop, so he switched to just say the same words on a loop - I’m here, I won’t leave you - because it was the only thing he was sure he wasn’t lying about. One of his hands was pushing back Eddy’s sweaty hair from his forehead, hoping the repetitive motion would soothe him, and the other was cradling the bandaged wrist, almost afraid of putting the slightest pressure there. 

The sobs receded, becoming sparse hiccups and sniffles, and inspiration by inspiration, his breathing became a bit more controlled, he had stopped crying but Brett felt reluctant about letting go. If Eddy stayed there forever, nothing could ever hurt him anymore, and Brett would never have to see him cry again.

“Bro, my shirt is gross now, there’s snot everywhere.” He said that, but his hand kept Eddy’s head firmly on his shoulder.

“Sorry.”

“It’s okay.”

Now they could hear the cars passing, the faint sound of someone still practicing somewhere, giggles far away of students coming back from a party.

“I love you, Eddy.”

“I love you too.”

“I’m sorry I can’t make it any better. I do believe it’s going to be okay though, some things you never really forget, muscle memory is strong.”

His best friend shook his head - as much as he could with the hand firmly holding it - snuggled even closer and Brett kissed his forehead.

“Thank you, for being here.”

“Of course.”

He really didn’t want to let go, but his shirt was sticking to his skin and he was still in the clothes he had worn all day. He untangled his limbs from the other, ignoring the whining, tried not to trip over the wheelchair while crossing the room in the dark and stole a fresh shirt from Eddy’s closet. The gaze of his friend on the hickey at the base of his neck was heavy.

“Anna didn’t take it too badly, that you had to leave her like that?”

“Nah, she was cool. Mostly worried about you.”

He repositioned himself on the tiny bed and Eddy instantly curled around him like a human sized octopus.

“You know, I was a bit scared, when I noticed how serious it was between you and Anna, that I would not be your priority anymore. Like, I kinda had this vague idea that one day the both of us would have to get married to someone, and then our wives would be the most important person and stuff- maybe- maybe kids. But I didn’t actually process it until I saw you with her like that- and I know we’ll always be friends, but I just… I worry.”

“Yeah, you do that,” Brett mumbled, because worrying was Eddy’s treadmark.

“What I meant to say was- I’m just glad you came.”

“Dude…. I would say ‘stop worrying’  but that never worked before…. Listen, there’s no such thing as a hierarchy of relationships, girlfriends are not more important than friends. Even less so than best friends.” 

“Not everybody thinks like you, you know.” 

A silence.

“I guess I maxed out on my luck the day I met you,” Eddy added into the night, so soft the rumble of a truck almost covered it.

Brett’s throat constricted and he felt like choking up under the feelings waving through him, it took him a while to get words out, and when he managed, they were raspy and devoid of sense.

“Don’t… I’m lucky too. It’s… It’s going to be okay, Eddy.” 

And Brett willed himself not to cry, because his best friend did not need that at the moment.

He slept in that bed every day for the next three weeks.

*

It wasn’t okay.

He felt like he was an outsider, floating above his own body and watching everything unfold.

Watching Eddy becoming more despondent, refusing to get out of bed because - I can’t practice anyway, what’s the point - and slowly shutting off all their friends. And he could do nothing about it but hold him in the evenings, saying over and over it was going to be okay, knowing Eddy had stopped listening to him.

From time to time he would manage to get a laugh out of his best friend, and every chuckle felt like an achievement- it had taken pushing the wheelchair like a madman in the middle of corridors while doing Formula 1 noises that had finally managed to get full bloomed guffaws out of him.

He would never give up on Eddy, but it was tiring. It was around that time he started actively liking his time with Gareth. 

Because there, Gareth absorbed his words like they came from God itself, he was his only reference for violin playing after all. With him he was just that violin teacher, he didn’t have a performance he was underprepared for in one week, he didn’t have an exam on a course he never showed up to and his best friend wasn’t injured and depressed. He liked to fit into this character that Gareth seemed to see in Brett. Because it was an unproblematic Brett. 

So for those two days a week, as long as he was in this tiny apartment Gareth rented, he became another Brett. A Brett that pretended not to have any troubles

*

Very slowly, Eddy started getting better.

Brett would have loved to credit himself on that, but it was all on countless therapy sessions and Eddy’s own inner strength. 

The first time he found Eddy dressed and ready to get some breakfast in the morning, Brett almost screamed from relief.

The first time Eddy made a joke that wasn’t self-depreciating, Brett hugged him.

The first time Eddy picked up his violin again, Brett had left the room, and stared at the sky, hoping his eyes wouldn’t be red when he would have to go back inside.

It was still hard, but they could both see the end of it.

Brett also realized he hadn’t talked to Anna in months, apart from a “Hi, good morning” and “Good night” every now and then. 

*

Winter break came by, they came back home, and the contact between Anna and him dwindled more and more. She was awesome, but she was slowly fading from his daily thoughts. He tried to come up with excuse - they just had had midterms - his best friend was depressed - too much practice - he was busy making some money with violin lessons - 

But in the end he already knew what was happening. Eddy advised him not to drag it out, to call her and actually talk about it. Anna was brilliant, and either they would decide to fight for this relationship and make it work, or they would decide to be better off as friends.

He stayed at Eddy’s house - for moral support - isolated himself in a room and called her.

*

It had been okay at first, the break up. She agreed with him that they weren’t that much in each other’s life anymore, and they had other priorities, they had joked around, laughed a bit, and Brett had felt good when he hung up. A bit free, a bit happy. And Eddy passed his head by the door, made a silly comment, they went to practice together - slowly, for Eddy, just a few minutes every few days - and Brett had felt grateful.

*

It hit him later on. He was at Gareth’s apartment, looking for a music sheet for him, when a composition Anna had made for him tumbled out of the folder.

He looked at it, and the two years they had spent together caught up with him.

He cried.

And Gareth, with his intense grey eyes and long eyelashes, Gareth kissed him.

He kissed back, tears still streaming down his face.

It was hot and passionate and like nothing he had ever felt with a girl. He drowned himself in it.

*

Every time Brett had been inside Gareth’s apartment, it had felt like a bubble outside of time.

A bubble that broke when Brett woke up, the morning after they fucked, naked in foreign sheets with a sleeping body next him and he realized what he had done. He felt so deeply off, his center shifted so radically by this one night that he ran away. He left behind that one composition Anna had made, forgotten on the floor in the middle of Gareth’s clothes.

He did the only thing he always did when he freaked out, and fled to Eddy.

*

His voice soothed his rattled nerves, his advice calmed his frazzled mind, and the hand rubbing his back settled something inside him. He let his head fall on the taller man’s shoulder and received a kiss on the forehead. The gesture made him smile.

“Thanks, bro."

“So, what do you want to do?”

“I don’t know, man. Never show up again? Anna and I just broke up, it’s all so wrong. Isn’t there supposed to be a- a mourning period or something when you get out of a relationship? Before you start fucking your adult students? It’s also… I mean. I’ve never- It was the first time I’ve been with a guy... I’m so confused.”

“To be honest, it seems to me that he just abused the fact you were emotionally fragile at that moment. So he’s kind of an ass. I didn’t really like him either when you invited him to the party, that one time. You do whatever you want, but I think, since we’re on break and not as swamped with work as usual, you should take that time to think things through, and not engage with him too much, even if you have a crush on him.”

“Pff, I don’t have a crush on Gareth.”

*

He did have a crush on Gareth. 

He discovered it in the worst possible way.

He hadn’t listened to Eddy, because thinking things through was his best friend’s thing, Brett would rather forge ahead, damn the consequences. Beside, it had been kind of a dick move to just run away the morning after without a word, even if he had been in the middle of an existential crisis. So he would like to see Gareth again, just to apologize, and make things clear, even if he had no idea what he wanted out of that talk - another kiss maybe? - hadn’t even figured out if he really liked guys, or if it had been a spur of the moment thing.

But only one way to find out right?

And since Brett was ridiculous, he had bought a box of macaroons from a fancy bakery, because he remembered his violin student mentioning they were his favorite pastry. 

And then, he stopped a few feet away from the building. 

Because there was Gareth, holding the hand of another guy, looking at him the same way he had looked at Brett. Like nothing else mattered, and he kissed him. 

That was the moment he realized he had a crush on him. Because of how shattered he felt.

He stayed unmoving for a while, and finally the other guy saw him and nudged Gareth. Then Brett took part in the most awkward talk he had ever seen - and he had dated Miriam. Gareth walked toward him, but refused to look at him in the eye, and when they were finally in front of each other, there was only silence.

“Hey, I’m very sorry about the other night. It was a mistake, shouldn’t have happened.” Gareth finally broke the status quo, fidgeting and glancing at the guy in front of his building. 

“It’s okay.” Brett said, when it was very much not okay. “You’re kind of a dick though.”

Gareth flinched but didn’t answer right away.

“Yeah. Sorry.”

A new wave of silence fell, and Brett took a breath at the same time Gareth opened his mouth again.

“So. Huh. Yeah. I guess I won’t be needing violin lessons anymore. I’ll figure something out.” He fished out some money from his pocket. “This is for the last lesson, you left before I could pay you. Huh, bye then.”

And he left, went back to that guy Brett had never seen before, and yanked him inside. Probably to fuck, he thought.

The handle of the macaroon bag started digging in the skin of his hand and some distant part of him wondered how Eddy did it, when Brett dated Miriam. How had he managed to stay strong and happy when the girl he had crushed on had been in love with his best friend? 

Maybe he loved me too much to be angry.

*

He ended up sharing the macaroons with Eddy, who had the decency not to tell him “I told you so.”

He just crossed his right ankle with Brett’s left under the Yangs’ kitchen table and grabbed him in a side hug. Cracking bad joke after bad joke, until one of them made him laugh, all the while rubbing his shoulder. And Brett tried and failed to hide the pieces of what was as close to a broken heart as he has ever had.

“I’m tired of that dating shit. I think I’ll just marry you instead.” 

“Whatever you need, bro.”

Brett played one of the best Tchaikovsky he had ever played that night. Eddy cried a little.

Then he came out of his performance daze, looked at his best friend, they smiled at each other, and it was a little bit better. 

*

Everything pertaining to Gareth Hardman was put in a little box inside his head, he closed it with a double lock, and let it take dust at the bottom of his mind. And that, along with the question of his sexuality, would not be reopened and examined for years to come.

*

Somewhere along the line, Brett had discovered he wasn’t going to be a soloist. He supposed he should feel sad, but he mostly felt tired.

It was a bit painful, because he had lived with this dream for so long that it felt like shedding a part of him, but there was practice, orchestra, rehearsals, weekly performances, papers, exams, Eddy barely out of depression, and himself was still getting over his break up with Anna, while trying to pretend nothing ever happened with Gareth, so he had been too physically and mentally exhausted to summon any spare emotion for this realization.

But every time his family called him, every time he turned his eyes and Eddy was there, smiling because he started sounding good again, every time he hanged out with their group of friends, every time he grabbed his violin and had fun, he realized some things are not worth the sacrifice. That as long as he gets to play the violin, in an orchestra, as a teacher, as a performer, as Brett, he would be happy.

So he slowly let go of this dream.

*

The cafeteria was almost empty that day, most of the students in their year choosing to eat while practicing, or even skipping lunch altogether, so as to not lose precious practice time. You could faintly hear muffled music from down the hall when somebody opened the double doors to get in or out, a bunch of different instruments playing different pieces from different practice rooms, all muddled together in a soft cacophony - apart from the saxophones, asserting their noise domination.

It was especially peaceful despite the teasing conversation their group of friends were having, then Phoebe said she was determined to make her whole life about music, even if it meant a shitty salary and practice all day. So they started talking about the future.

Brett looked at Eddy at his side and thought maybe it was time to find a new dream.

“I want to travel the world, and play music everywhere.”

Eddy had nodded with so much enthusiasm the glasses he had stolen from Brett fell from his nose. He liked to do that - stealing his glasses - always had. He wouldn’t even ask at this point, just gently take them from Brett’s nose, wear them to have fun, test if he looked good in them, or stare at whatever he wanted, and then even more gently put them back on Brett’s face, extra careful not to poke him in the eye.

But this time he frowned, just put them on the table and pushed them in his general direction, letting Brett do the rest of the work.

“Traveling the world, you want to do it on your own?” His best friend said later, in the privacy of a practice room.

He was fiddling with his violin and pretended to be focused on the score in front of him, trying so desperately hard for casual it was almost pitiful. Insecurity was filtering through his tone, and Brett wanted to get inside Eddy’s head, bodily grab everything that made him sad, throw it out and burn it.

“Not if I don’t have too.” He answered, hoping it would be enough.

But it was never enough with Eddy.

“With who then?”

He almost wanted to be angry at him, for forcing things out of him so blatantly, for seeking always more from him. But Brett had been noticeably bad at being angry at Eddy since he had looked at him for the first time with teary eyes - since practically forever.

“Dude, you’re really going to make me say it? You already know the answer.” His tone was so soft Brett barely recognized it. “With you, idiot. Who else? We wanted to go to Japan, to Europe and to Taiwan together, how could your insecurity talk you into believing I don’t want to travel with you anymore? Stop listening to that bitch.”

Eddy laughed and clasped Brett’s shoulder as a thanks. All smiles now that he had gotten what he yearned for - the sweet validation that he was wanted.

“Okay, we are going to travel the world together and play music everywhere then. Sounds like a plan.”

Brett realized at that time - after so long watching his best friend fight depression - that Eddy’s smile, bunny teeth, and dimples and pure childlike joy, was the thing he liked most in this entire world. The thing that was worth fighting for.

*

Then Eddy’s injury was far enough behind him that his violin playing was as beautiful as ever, they looked at each other, listening to a violin cover on YouTube and said - We can do better than that.

*

When he chose to do the honor degree, and stay one more year at Griffith, he wondered if it was really for the sake of the course, or if it was because he felt he couldn’t leave behind this weird baby they had just created, the fœtus of TwoSet Violin. Leave what would be the realization of his and Eddy’s dream. 

Because maybe, they would have better chances of travelling together if they finished school together. Maybe, he daydreamed, they would get accepted into the same orchestra, and they could fool around when rehearsal was too long, and play their heart out together when it was about music, travel and make other stupid videos. Maybe even get popular. 

He didn’t give it too much thought though, because he knew that it didn’t really matter what path the future would take him to, as long as he played music and had his best friend not too far away, so they could keep taking care of each other.

It is starting to get cold outside, he felt the bite of it through his jacket when they threw out the DIY violin monstrosity and right now, the couch is comfortable, the light is soft, he can still feel the tea he just drank burn down his throat, and he can’t be bothered to move.

He just whines when Eddy shakes him and tries to swat him away.

“Dude, come on. You told me you promised your mother you would sleep home tonight, you can’t stay here.”

“Noooo, I don’t care. Let me sleep here. I’m small, I don’t take any space, look.”

And he lets himself fall on the couch, rolled in a tiny ball. The drive from Eddy’s place to his house seems insurmountable right now, he can barely keep his eyes open.

“Don’t try to play cute. I won’t be swayed.” Eddy warns, but Brett ignores him and grabs a pillow to hug it, making a low humming noise.

He hears his best friend sigh, and his lips perk up, because he knows what is going to happen. So he lets himself be babied. He likes it, once in a while, being taken care of like that. He lets Eddy sit him up and lace his shoes, obediently raises his arms so his jacket can be put on him, lets Eddy half carry him into the car and buckle him up. Then Eddy goes to the other seat, and drives him home.

It is around three in the morning, and the world is silent and empty around the car. The street lights illuminate Eddy’s profile every few seconds, and Brett observes him through half-lidded eyes. The way he is focused on his driving, careful and slow, so as to not jostle Brett too much. The way he looks at him when they stop at a red light, pretending to let out an irritated breath, when there is only fondness in his eyes. The way his hair is too long and keeps getting in his eyes, the way he frowns because he isn’t used yet to the reflections on his glasses when he drives. The way everything is silent, and even Eddy’s breathing is controlled, set a low pace so it wouldn’t disturb him. 

He is everything he has ever wanted, and he’s his. In a way nobody has ever been his.

It’s not about wanting more. He realizes with startling clarity, cutting through the drowsiness of his fatigue.

The girl was right every step of the way, boyfriend is not above best friend, it’s a step on the side. 

He doesn’t want more from Eddy, he already has everything. But maybe they can shift their dynamic just that little step on the side.

“We don’t have to.” he thinks. “The end goal of a relationship isn’t necessarily romantic.”

He already loves him so much. So he looks at him, feels the happiness spreading like a warm blanket over his sleepy body. Then they are in front of his house. Eddy stops the car and turns toward him. He is probably going to carry him to his room too, unlace his shoes and tuck him into bed because he can be a mother-hen like that. Maybe Brett can convince him so stay the night at his house.

Eddy’s eyes are not hiding anything, and Brett can physically see the happiness and the love mirrored in them. And thinks about maybe kissing him and waking up in the morning to this face.

They don’t have to (but maybe he wants to).

Chapter Text

Derek

At one point, it had all started to feel so personal that Brett had held back, and had wanted to stop asking questions about being in love with one’s best friend. But Eddy hadn’t cared about his moment of fragility and forged on - in some ways, Eddy was so much braver than him.

 

“How did you know then? If this was such a natural glisse?” 

 

“I’m not sure, there was no specific point. I’ve known passion, but this was never passion. Just, happiness? I guess? I don’t know”. She had laughed, with a hint of shyness. “I’ve always loved her, and then I began thinking it was okay to be with girls? That I could like girls, kiss girls, and the rest was just, I don’t know... If I can be with a girl, might as well be with the one I love most then.”

Eddy is grabbing at his arm, bent over from laughing too hard, and Brett isn’t in a state fit enough to support him, since his own hilarity is too much. And they topple over and fall on the floor, tears in their eyes. Brett wants to burst with happiness.

He doesn’t need anything else, as long as he has this . Doesn’t need a girlfriend, a boyfriend, doesn’t need the ache, the drama, the romance. He read it once - in a comment, under a video or a tweet, he doesn’t remember - “soulmate” it said. It sounds like the kind of cheesy stuff Eddy could say, but it isn’t wrong. He has no other word for it apart from “best friend”, but he feels like this can’t properly convey everything they are to the other. 

He had come to that conclusion - that no relationship could ever be equal to the one he had with his best friend - after his first and last attempt at having a boyfriend failed a couple of years ago. 

His name was Derek. Derek Villarreal.

Brett was twenty-four when he met him, barely twenty-five when he dated him and twenty-six when they broke up.

It had all happened over food: Brett liked to eat, and Derek liked to cook. That was it.

His grandmother was Italian, he had dark skin, black hair, black eyes, long eyelashes, a nice jawline and something about him reminded Brett of Gareth.

He laughed easily, loved to hike, to cook, was curious and passionate about everything - wanted to experiment food from all over the world - and didn’t think too much of himself. Sometimes, though, he would get that same intense look Gareth had had, staring at Brett like nothing else mattered, possessiveness showing in tiny gestures.

Brett had been hanging out with some friends from the Sydney Symphony Orchestra, and Maylis, a cellist, had come with a plate full of tiny, delicious antipasti Brett had gobbled up in a few minutes. As it happened, one of her friends had a passion for cooking, and Brett had immediately suggested they invite them over the next time, because the maker of such good food should definitely be a good person.

When he met the guy for the first time, he felt a little unbalanced. He was charming, nice looking and so many things about him reminded him of Gareth that Brett had wanted to avoid him immediately. He had dated a couple of girls since that debacle. One time adventures, or weeks long stories, nothing that had mattered, and the ghost of that night where he laid with a guy for the first time kept whispering in his ears, trying to escape the box in the back of his mind.

At the same time, Derek was unassuming, light hearted and offered his friendship easily enough it would have been mean to refuse it.

And since he had felt a bit lonely at the time, things went fast. 

*

When Eddy graduated, he could admit he had hoped his friend would move to Sydney too. They could have shared an apartment, he imagined, could make a few videos every week, and mess around in the Orchestra. 

But even when Eddy didn’t - when he stayed in Brisbane - they promised to keep TwoSet going on. And they kept their word. It wasn’t the best, but it was okay in the end. Brett liked his job, liked his apartment in Sydney, made a lot of friends, and every time Eddy came over, everything was a little bit brighter.

Sure, his appartement was a mess, and Eddy forgot half his stuff every time, leaving Brett to grumble and pick it up, a good third of his closet being Eddy’s things. But it was always worth it.

*

Then Eddy started dating Toni. She was shy, sweet and a bit of a nerd. It was when he looked at her that he realized how much Eddy had grown.

He had settled into his skin, years and years of work on his self-esteem finally coming to fruition, and the confident man he was watching, charming his girlfriend with witty sentences and knowing grins was such a far cry from that awkward pre-teen hiding behind his back when they had to speak to girls he almost felt whiplash. 

He remembered those times he would lay in bed at night and worry - When will he get better? When will he love himself? - And it had happened without him even realizing it. Eddy was happy now, and they had worked so hard for it, they overcame everything together, and he had to bite his lip because the happiness and the pride exploding into fireworks in his chest was too much.

They had come such a long way, the both of them.

(It hit him again, when Eddy called him after that competition, frustration seeping into his tone, and just said - Hey, bro! I’ve booked a venue. We’ve got a concert in two months - confident in the knowledge Brett would follow him. And for once he was the one dragging Brett behind.)

*

Eddy had tried to cook something for Toni’s birthday, and had asked Brett to be his guinea pig. He had been so lost in the kitchen Brett had made fun of him everytime he looked at the receipe like it was a Paganini music sheet. He hadn’t burned down the apartment, but everything had smelled funny for a couple of days after this first and last attempt - making Brett snicker and Eddy grimace. 

He had looked at him with hopeful eyes when he had finally been done with it and Brett carefully took the first bite.

“Hey, is it good?”

“Bro... It’s terrible.”

His best friend had opened his mouth, as if offended, and Brett used the opportunity to stuff the disgusting yellow blob in it.

Eddy instantly cringed at the taste.

“Oh fuck, yeah, it’s terrible,” he gagged. “Thanks for the honesty.”

“Always.”

Always. If he couldn’t be the most blunt, honest version of himself with his very best friend in the whole world, then life was nothing but a mascarade of faux semblants.

The food fight that had followed had left them both giggly while they cleaned the kitchen.

(Eddy ended up bringing Toni to the restaurant.)

*

It wasn’t jealousy per se, but when Eddy got really serious with Toni, serious enough that Brett could imagine her marrying him, could imagine coming to Eddy’s new house one day, where he would live with Toni and their two kids, he started feeling like he would never have the same place in his life again. He thought maybe he should try a serious relationship again, to have something to fall back on, something to belong to when he wouldn’t be the first one on Eddy’s priority list anymore.

Maybe that was why, when he met Derek and they started dating, he decided probably a bit randomly that this one would be serious.

*

They had bonded over a lot of things. Food, travel, new experiences, movies. Derek would invite him to his place, cook all sorts of crazy things, and make Brett eat them while they talked or watched something. It was insane sometimes, how much this guy reminded him of Gareth. The long eyelashes, the curly dark hair. The intense eyes.

But he kept coming back to it.

So he decided it was maybe time to open that scary box, covered in dust at the bottom of his mind. But he wouldn’t do it alone. So he crashed at Eddy’s place, sat on the couch in silence for a moment before blurting.

“I think I might be gay.”

“Bro. I had my doubts years ago when you started severely crushing on a guy,” his best friend replied without missing a beat.

“Asshole. It could have been a one time thing.”

Eddy laughed and nudged Brett’s leg with his own. It was weirdly comforting.

“Is that because of this dude you started hanging out with? The one who cooks?”

“Yeah,” he sighed. “I think I might like him that way. It’s kinda scary.”

“Awww.”

“God. Shut up.”

And they talked, they talked through every relationship Brett had had, the difference between kissing girls and kissing Gareth, talked through everything they could think of. Brett realized it wasn’t that scary in the end, talking about it like this, his right side warmed by the body heat of his best friend, hearing his sound advice, the comfort of being accepted no matter what.

*

He had had no idea what to do with Derek after that. Was the guy flirting with him? Eddy had said - Dude! Obviously! - but he didn’t want to make a fool of himself if it wasn’t the case. 

Until Derek had joked about wanting to learn the violin.

The box where all those memories were stored had been freshly opened, and Brett could almost hear it again, in Gareth’s voice - It was a mistake, shouldn’t have happened - could remember how he felt when the crumpled bills had been pushed in his hand - like a cheap whore bought for the night. He wanted to throw up every bit of food Derek had fed him.

“I don’t- Yeah no. It’s late- I should be going,” he stuttered like an idiot.

He didn’t feel like he belonged in his body anymore, observed it getting up, banging its knee on the table. Observed said table falling over, the glasses, plates and food crashing on the floor with a deafening noise.

“What the- Brett, mate, what’s going on?”

“Oh God, I’m so sorry. I’ll pay you back,” he could feel his face reddening from embarrassment.

“No, it’s okay, those plates were cheap anyway. It was time for me to get new ones, you made me a favor actually,” he gave Brett a cheeky smile before raising his eyebrows. “C’mon, don’t go yet, I’m worried about you.”

“The food...”

“It’s okay, I’ll clean up later, just sit down.”

Brett didn’t really want to sit down. He wanted to take his car and drive to Brisbane, wanted to crash at Eddy’s place. He wouldn’t need to say anything, Eddy would probably read him like he always did and give him a hug, joke about something, launch a video idea into the air, give him a Switch controller and Brett would stay there until he felt better.

But he had just broken half of Derek’s plates, the food was on the floor, and he kind of felt like he owed him an explanation. So he fought his own uncomfort and sat back down.

“Sorry. Just. Bad memories.”

“You can talk about it if you want. I’m crap at compassion, but I can listen and give you comfort cookies.”

He told him the story - left out some details - didn’t mention how much Derek made him think of Gareth, but the guy picked up on it anyway, because after throwing a couple of obligatory insults at Gareth, he added.

“Y’know… I’ll never be that guy,” he looked serious suddenly, eyes focused on him. “If I ever had the chance of dating someone like you, I would do it seriously, properly. I would treat you like you deserve.”

The atmosphere had been encouraging a kiss, but Brett still felt a little bit raw, and remembered too well what had happened the last time he had kissed a guy when he was down and vulnerable.

So he said thanks, drove home, and since good habits are hard to break, he called Eddy.

It was 2 a.m, but his best friend had the nasty habit of having insomnia, and picked up the call after the first ring.

“Hey Bro, what is it?”

He could hear a feminine voice in the background.

“Oh, shit, I didn’t know Toni would be staying over. Never mind, I’ll call you another time. It’s late anyway.”

“Dude. Don’t be an idiot, in uni you left Anna in the middle of some sexy time to be with me when I was injured. The least I can do is answer whenever you call.”

“Huh. Thanks for being there.”

“Always.”

A beat of silence. He could hear Eddy’s muffled voice talking to Toni - all soft and warm intonations, he was such a lovestruck boyfriend - then a door closing. 

“Okay. I’m yours. It’s about Derek, yeah?”

Brett nodded. And just when he realized it wasn’t a video call-

“I’m pretty sure you just nodded,” Eddy interjected. “Remember I can’t see you, Bro. You’re gonna have to use actual words.”

Brett laughed, and he was already starting to feel better.

“Yeah. I think he wants to date me now.”

“Duh. I won’t say I called it, but since I’m right pretty much all the time, you should probably listen to me a tiny bit more.”

He should.

*

This time, he listened to Eddy. Waited for a bit. Sorted out his feelings.

A few weeks later, he was dating Derek.

*

It went very fast after that. Brett was still in Sydney and was feeling lonely every time Eddy had to go back to Brisbane early because he had something planned with Toni, so he started clinging harder to Derek at those times.

Then Derek started clinging harder to Brett when he felt his boyfriend was being restless about his job at the SSO. TwoSet’s concert in Sydney had gone so well, he and Eddy had begun to think - why not see bigger? - and Brett knew his boyfriend could tell something was about to change.

Between those two things, they spent so much time together Derek practically lived with him barely a few months into their relationship. It was okay mainly, Derek was clean, cooked everything for the both of them, he got along well enough with Eddy, he showed interest in what Brett liked, he was cool, funny and they didn’t really fight. Sex was nice and he had some burst of romantic passion from time to time, and would take Brett out or organize a week-end trip (the only thing Brett had had to put a firm stop to was the hiking, their one experience hiking together had left him sore, aching and miserable for one week. Eddy had laughed his ass off everytime Brett winced). 

So overall, having a boyfriend was nice, and Brett decided he would put effort into this relationship.

*

When decisions had to be made, though - important, life changing decisions - he realized he would always kind of forget to take his boyfriend into account. That was why, when he and Eddy decided to risk everything, to give up on their jobs in their respective orchestra, to sleep on the street for days and days with no other comfort that the company of the other and their unwavering determination to make their dream come true, he had almost been surprised at Derek’s frown.

It was understandable though, who would be happy to hear their boyfriend gave up on a stable job, would risk their health for something that, if a success, would mean being separated for months? He knew Toni had been equally as worried about Eddy, all the way from Japan. It was okay though, in the end, they believed in themselves.

So the kickstarter campaign happened, and their first world tour, and everything that had consumed Brett and Eddy so thoroughly they hadn’t had the time or the energy for anything else. It was travel, practice, sleep, practice, perform, explore and repeat. A flurry of new people, bad organization, meeting fans, falling asleep in strange places. Eddy being so exhausted his fourteen years old self surfaced again, clinging on to Brett like a lifeline, whiny and possessive - he’s mine - he would say, eyelids struggling to stay open, wrapped around Brett’s shoulders like an overgrown sloth. It was a weird throwback, but Brett didn’t really mind.

He also discovered he was bad with distance.

Derek was even worse.

Brett couldn’t manage to make time for his boyfriend, and even though Derek never directly made a reproach, every FaceTime was tense and awkward. Half of him wanted to give up and stop making efforts, but then he would hear Eddy giggle softly on the phone with Toni, and remembered why he wanted this one to work. So he multiplied his effort, he tried not to let his irritation come through when he could feel Derek’s bad mood, the other would apologize - I’m sorry I’m such a dick. I just want you to come back, I miss you - and things were good again.

*

They came back from the world tour, and everything had shifted a little. The dynamics of all the main players moved around.

The first change was the easiest to spot, and the most natural. Brett had always been used to having Eddy around, in the periphery of him, but now that they had spent months stuck together every minute of the day, his best friend felt more like an extension of himself than a separate, independent human being. Even when they didn’t really need to, they would seek each other out by instinct.

The other one made Brett ache for Eddy, when he told him something felt different with Toni. More distant, like they had gotten so used to not being with each other, he started realizing he didn’t really want to change things. Being with Eddy during those times was like being with him when he was still celibate, Brett was once again his number one priority. It shouldn’t make him feel happy - he could see the sadness in his best friend’s eyes from time to time - but the selfish part of him liked it.

The third one was the main source of Brett’s troubles. When he came back from the world tour, Derek had missed him so much he would be in every corner, would snatch him from his friends, be upset whenever Brett left. Even if it left him tired to the bones, Brett had accepted it because he thought it was a natural answer to the distance, that it would fade away, be a little less intense as time went on. He would make this one relationship work. 

Derek wasn’t bad, he loved Brett, worked on himself a lot so he could be better for him, was ready to give up a lot for him, but he was possessive and intense, wanted Brett’s world to revolve around him, wanted something Brett couldn’t give without sacrificing some part of who he was. This kind of all consuming devotion he couldn’t return, because he already loved someone too much already.

*

With Derek’s new overwhelming presence, something else happened: Eddy started getting jealous, and it amused Brett to no end.

It was the little things, Eddy talking over Derek, purposefully seating himself right between Brett and Derek when the three of them would watch a movie, barging in Brett’s room early in the morning when he was with his boyfriend, hugging him when Derek was there as if to say - He’s still mine - and Brett couldn't help but chuckle at the neediness. He guessed it was because his best friend had gotten so used to having Brett in his space in the last months he wanted to keep that. The distance between him and Toni also left him in constant need of affection, and who was Brett to refuse him? 

Eddy had always been a little bit like that, though. He liked knowing he was still the center of Brett’s universe. And well, he was, so Brett let him do it.

*

The problem had been with Derek's response to this, Brett understood, on a certain level, it was a new situation for him after all. When they had started dating, Brett was still living in Sydney, and they were practically spending all their time together. Then things were hectic, between the kickstarter campaign and the word tour, but Derek had told Brett, even though it hadn’t been easy, it was still okay because he knew this was temporary. But now, now Brett and Eddy were both in Brisbane, filming every few days together and Derek just now understood the place this friendship was taking in his boyfriend’s life, and none of this was temporary.

It had been subtle enough, in the beginning, Brett didn’t really notice. Until he mentioned half-laughingly to his best friend how crappy Derek was at playing Smash Bros as he was attacking the controller buttons after a filming session, and Eddy had snorted.

“Hey, tell me if I’m wrong, but I kinda get the impression Derek doesn’t like me very much,” he saw Brett’s bewildered glance and chuckled. “I told you, I’m probably wrong and it’s just a feeling anyway, but whenever I come into a room and start chatting with you, he stops smiling and leaves. I mean- I get it, I’m annoying and I’m trying not to bother you too much when he’s here, so you can have some couple time, but I understand he must be pissed that his time with you is interrupted. So…”

“Nah, of course he likes you. He’s just easily prissy when he doesn’t have my whole attention. Don’t judge you can be pretty much the same,” he added with a grin and a nudge to Eddy’s ribs.

His best friend squaked and his character got beaten off the platform.

“Dude, you cheated! You can’t tickle me while we play!”

“I didn’t, I gently nudged you, not my fault you suck. You have to play the viola for our next show, now.”

“That’s not fair! You cheated! Bro! Stop-”

But Brett was too busy cackling to listen to a single word.

*

The jealousy was more apparent then, the silent reproach whenever Brett would make a decision involving Eddy.

When Brett laughed about some funny thing his stupid best friend had done and explained it to Derek, he could see him closing a little bit on himself, and the conversation would turn dry after that. 

When he texted or called Eddy - whatever the subject, dumb shit or serious TwoSet business - his boyfriend would hover in the background, like he was only waiting for Brett to be done with that and give him his whole attention again - doesn’t he have anything better to do than just wait for me to pay attention to him? - he remembered whining to Eddy once. 

They didn’t fight, but this constant tension between them started to get on Brett’s nerves, he felt the mere mention of his best friend and partner’s name could trigger a bad mood from his boyfriend. 

He felt prisoner of this possessiveness, of this love too overwhelming, of the grumpiness whenever Brett wasn’t a hundred percent devoted to him. And it irritated him. It irritated him like Eddy’s jealousy never had. 

*

The double standard wasn’t lost on him. He knew he was being unfair and felt guilty every time something Derek did pissed him off when he would have just laughed it off with his best friend. 

Eddy had pointed out once that Derek was similar to him on some points. Brett had laughed - hey, I get along with you, dating people with your personality should turn out okay then.

Weirdly enough, he discovered, things that were endearing with Eddy were irritating with others. The neediness, the hyper sensitivity, the emotional expansiveness, the constant fishing for praise, the desire to always be in his space. 

It frustrated him. 

*

They had just come back from hanging out with some of their friends from uni when they looked at each other and realized they still had to plan a merch drop.

It was late at night, Brett had dark circles under his eyes and his laugh was slightly unhinged. He knew he was too tired to go back to Derek’s place tonight, and decided to ignore the consequences. He would probably crash here and keep working when they would wake up. 

“...And then- Then everytime you want the salt, you’ll have to get your speech ready… Can you imagine? I am addressing you, on this day, because the times are dire. Indeed our meal is lacking! Lacking what?” Eddy was laughing, and it shouldn’t have been funny, but Brett was cracking up anyway.

He didn’t really remember how they came to that discussion - something about Brett’s left eye being fucked up and Eddy had made some sort of abysmal joke - probably because it’s a socialist, hey. Y’know, cause it’s on the left - Brett had made a noise and then they had started to say every sentence as a political discourse. They weren’t even working at this point, just goofing off.

“Three days later, maybe you’ll have your salt. Time for the administration to process your request.”

Eddy was choking on a snicker and they calmed down long enough to realize working was useless by now. They just stayed there, still a bit high from exhaustion and happiness, sitting in front of Eddy’s computer, staring blankly at the screen, at the growing number of subscribers on their channel. 

“Dude. We’ve come so far…” Eddy mumbled, rubbing at his eyes. “I’m fucking proud of us.”

“Yeah. Me too.”

He hadn’t felt this free and good about himself in a while.

He realized, in that moment, sitting beside his best friend and partner - his other half - that he was almost glad to have escaped his boyfriend for the night. That he was the best version of himself when he was there, in that studio, violin a few centimeters away, best friend even closer, belonging, but being free. 

Derek… Derek wasn’t making him a better person. He was slowly losing himself in this relationship. Didn’t laugh as much, was always emotionally tired, feeling the weight of Derek’s expectation of him like a physical burden.

And then there was Eddy, and it was a breath of fresh air. And he thought maybe- maybe he could only date someone making him feel as good as his best friend did. Until then, what was the point of bothering himself with it?

“Hey, Eddy. I love you, bro.”

Eddy’s smile was so big it must have hurt, his eyes sparkled and his whole being seemed to be shaking with barely repressed joy. He was looking at him like there were nobody else in the world, adoration overwhelming.

“I love you too.”

His best friend walked toward the kitchen, a skip in his steps, humming a happy tune under his breath despite the tiredness, and Brett could have sworn he saw him do a little twirl.

Happiness feeds happiness, and Brett spent one of the best nights in his life, doing absolutely nothing special.

*

He realized the difference between those stares, Gareth’s and Derek’s, and the ones Eddy gave him. All three of these guys looked, or had looked at him like he was the center of their universe when he was with them. But Eddy’s gaze was devoid of any possessiveness, pure adoration and no expectation. He already knew Brett was his.

*

“You can’t ask me that. There is- This isn’t a subject where I can make- that I can compromise about.”

Derek stayed perfectly silent, as if a single word from him would make Brett explode. How ridiculous was it, really? Why was he surrounded by insecure idiots?

“You are hogging me pretty much all the time,” he kept going. “I barely see my friends, and those few times I actually hang out with my best friend outside of work - and with you there because you told me you would be lonely otherwise - you actually manage to get jealous? C’mon!”

His boyfriend looked like he was about to cry, and half of Brett wanted to comfort him, the other was too pissed for that. Eddy had left the bubble tea shop with a guilty look, joking about not invading more of their precious couple time, pretending not to notice the death glare Derek was sending when Brett had tried to convince him to stay because the two of them hadn’t gone out for bubble tea in weeks. 

“I know your life revolves around me but this isn’t- this isn’t healthy! And I’m not the same, I need to spend time with other people, I have a freaking life outside of you, and people I care about and you can’t take that away from me.”

He was aware he was probably a bit too harsh, but nothing had felt right recently, and he was tired of dealing with jealousy crises.

“I just…” Derek’s voice was so small he could barely recognize it. “You two were talking, and I might as well not have been there. Wouldn’t have changed anything. You weren’t even looking at me, and you just… The two of you have too many private jokes. I’m- I always feel like an outsider.”

“I’ve known him for freaking twelve- thirteen- I don’t know how many years! Of course we have private jokes, you were the one who wanted to be there and I- How do you think he feels when you just look at him like he isn’t allowed to spend time with his damn best friend?” he took a deep breath, organized his thoughts and willed himself not to choose the wrong words. “Listen. It’s not that I don’t love you, you have to understand that. I do, I really do. But you and I, we have different priorities, and that’s okay, we’re different people. I understand you need to spend a lot of time with me, so I make time for you, but you- you also have to understand that I’m not the same and you should respect that. You’re important to me, one of the most important people in my life right now, but you’re not the only one. It’s- I’ve told you that already, boyfriend isn’t higher on my list of priorities than best friend or family. And I’ll never- never spend any less time with Eddy because you’re jealous, this isn’t going to happen. Ever. You won’t make me change my priorities, you have to accept me with them.”

Brett stopped, head slightly dizzy from his word vomit, but proud that he had managed to communicate everything he wanted without stumbling too much.

“I can’t.”

“What?”

The bubble tea shop was noisy from patrons ordering, chatting around, and the open window drowned what little silence there was under the noise of passerby and cars honking. He must have misheard. So he leaned a bit closer, watched a tear roll down the tanned cheek of his boyfriend and his chest constricted.

“I can’t,” he said again, louder, but choked. “I’m getting crazy over this, I’ll never be able to compete, and I don’t think I can keep being with you knowing this. You’re right, our priorities are too different.”

Brett understood then, he knew what would happen, every word that would come out of their mouths as if he had lived it already, he tried to feel sad or surprised, but nothing came.

“I guess- I guess we should go our separate ways then.”

“Yeah. That would be for the best.”

And that was it. It was over. Just like that. In his favorite bubble tea shop, where he was laughing not even twenty minute earlier. He still had half of his drink to finish. He stayed sitting there for a while, even after Derek had left, and when he got out of his daze, he was already walking toward their studio - he didn’t need to, they didn’t have to film today - just because he could, because nobody would be mad or sad he wasn’t going home with them, because nobody would be jealous his first reflex was to go to his best friend place. He felt like bursting with laughter suddenly, chest expanding, like his shoulders weighted ten times less, and his legs had springs in them. 

He didn’t need it - dating. He would be the happiest version of himself enjoying TwoSet, his music and Eddy. 

*

He asked about Derek, of course, but Brett felt weirdly embarrassed about it, unsure of how Eddy would react if he heard about how passionately he had declared him his priority. He was unwilling to be made fun of, and his best friend would feel guilty, anyway, if he knew all the details.

“Didn’t have the same priorities,” he just answered.

*

When, months later, Toni and Eddy broke up, it came like something to be expected. Didn’t mean it wasn’t hurting Eddy though, but - we just didn’t have the same priorities - his best friend had whined in the middle of a teary rant, hugging Brett for all he was worth.

He wondered - his heart skipping a beat - if it meant what he thought it meant. 

He hugged him back and pushed the thought at the bottom of his mind. It didn’t matter, as long as his and Eddy’s own priorities were aligned, it would all be fine, they didn’t really need much else than each other and music. 

Might as well be with the girl I love most.

They are talking about uni in front of the camera, and Brett is thinking back. Not only about the con, but about everything, about every relationship, about every struggle, every choice they made that brought them here. He can see by the small smile on his best friend lips that he is on the same memory lane.

They finish the video and they are looking at each other, still smiling a bit. And they should probably move on to the next one, but right now, Brett feels content just watching Eddy. 

Looking at him feels safe. When he is antsy or restless, when he doesn’t know where to look at, his gaze automatically rests on Eddy, like a default state. He’s so familiar with the visual that meets him that it calms him every time. A bubble of happiness. He doesn’t think there is anyone else that ever made him feel that way.

They reach the same conclusion at the same time, because when Eddy grabs his hand and squeezes, Brett is opening his mouth to say:

“I don’t think I’ll ever date somebody else.”

“I know. Me neither,” Eddy answers, and his lips are still upturned when Brett presses a kiss on his mouth. 

Just happiness.

Might as well be with the guy he loves most.

He supposes they are together in a new sense now, whatever that means.

Chapter Text

Eddy

His name is Eddy, Eddy Chen.

Brett was fourteen when he met him, and has never stopped loving him ever since.

All those years ago, when the kid had shown up late at math tutoring in the beginning of the school year and had to sit beside him, Brett had had no idea what he was getting into.

He is Asian, his smile is too big for his face, and his hands so large they engulf Brett’s own, his profile has a lot of angles and his eyes sparkle under any light.

He is serious and nerdy, but fun once you manage to get him to talk, unstoppable once he starts rambling about something he loves. He is also devoured by the desire to please, but his self-esteem is so much better, now that he knows he is loved no matter what.

“What do you think a fortissimo kiss is like? No, a triple f kiss!” Eddy wonders aloud in the middle of practice, because he can have the attention span of a two years old.

But since when Eddy is two, it means Brett is three, he puts his violin down and sneaks a giant smooch on his best friend’s cheek, the sound reverbs in the room and Eddy looks gobstrucked.

“Like that,” Brett answers with a smugness that is probably uncalled for. 

“Wow! How did you do that? Wait, let me try!” the sound of Eddy’s kiss can barely be heard, not even a mezzo piano. “Man, I suck at this. Do it again?”

There was always this stage, when dating or meeting other people, where Brett tried to impress them. Tried to be another, slightly funnier, cooler, more interesting version of himself.

But then there is Eddy, and no awkward fumbling, no acting, no trying too hard, no regrets. Just Eddy, his stupid teeth and his smile that makes him too fond. And nothing was ever as natural as raising on his toes to kiss him, without fear, without awkwardness, without expectation, and feeling like the luckiest person alive when he gets that smile in return.

“Y’know,” Eddy says as if he is reading his thoughts “I’m never afraid of judgment with you. You’re the first person outside of my family- like, when I am with you, I never think ‘Hey I should hide who I am so he’ll like me better’ I’m just me and that’s- I just thought you should know.”

Brett almost wants to kiss him again, but they really should practice, so he just says - I know - with all the affection he can muster and takes up his violin again.

*

There is a groan coming from the right side of the couch and Brett looks up from his phone to see Eddy massaging his left hand fingers, eyes closed and head thrown back.

“Are they sore?”

“Yeah a bit.”

He sighs and scoots closer, slapping away one of Eddy’s hands to take the sore fingers between his own.

“I swear, if you overworked yourself again, I’ll kill you myself.”

“I like it when you get all protective like that,” his best friend chuckles.

“Which part of ‘I’ll kill you’ sounded protective?”

Eddy bursts out laughing, the vibration going all the way down to his fingers and Brett can’t help but smile as he starts massaging them.

*

They share a bed, like they have thousands of times before, Brett feels soft and warm and loved, he is melting on the mattress and on the verge of falling asleep, but then Eddy decides to be a little shit and rolls over him, poking his ribs and freaking biting his shoulder. 

“Duuuude, get off…”

He tries to swat him, doesn’t even open his eyes, but his best friend is having none of it, giggling and letting more of his weight rest on him.

“Teddy bears don’t talk, Brett.”

“Alright, you asked for it.”

The only answer to this brattiness is tickles to the death.

Eddy is panting and wheezing, tears in his eyes, spread out on the sheets, having begged for mercy enough that Brett stopped the torture.

“You’re an annoying fucker, Eddy,” he says, but knows his best friend can recognize the smile in his voice. “Sleep now, I have about zero energy left.”

“You’re so old.”

Brett rolls his eyes, leans over him, resting his body weight on his elbow, and kisses his lips, letting it drag out a bit. To say he doesn’t mean the insult, to say goodnight, to say I love you. Because he wants to, because he can. Then his best friend runs a hand behind his neck, plays with the small hairs there, keeps Brett more firmly on top of him and kisses back. 

Something is different, there is an intensity to it. It is in the way Eddy is still panting a bit, almost chuckling into the kiss, opening his mouth to it, the way he shudders, skin oversensitive, the way his hand gets heavier on his neck, the way Brett is losing himself in his smell. Different enough to make him consider things he usually don’t think about, to make him more aware of his body. Eddy kisses and touches like he wants , and if he wants, Brett will give him everything.

He finds out he still has energy after all.

*

“Eddy? Two eggs?”

“Yeah,” the answer comes from the bedroom, he can tell from the still raspy voice that he is not fully awake yet and it makes him smile.

The eggs are sizzling in the pan, and there are footsteps lazyly padding into the kitchen, the kettle being turned on. Then a warm hand on his shoulder.

“Green tea or oolong?”

“Oolong.”

They move around the kitchen to make breakfast, both sleepy but never stumbling into each other, too used to working together in small spaces. When they settle on the table, Brett realizes he forgot his socks in the bedroom and grumbles before trying to crawl his cold toes under Eddy’s pyjama pants.

“Bro, what’re you doing?”

“Warming up.”

Eddy bursts out laughing and half-slaps, half-pats his shoulder - like he wants to swat him but can't quite bring himself to do so, morphing it into a caress midway.

“I can’t believe you, go get your socks.”

“Nah, your legs are warmer.”

“I don’t know if you’re an old man or a baby sometimes,” his best friend snorts but lets Brett have his way with his calves, blowing air on his too hot tea. “D’you wanna try the other way around tonight?”

“Why not, seems like fun from the way you reacted.”

“Dude!”

Brett cackles, cleans up his breakfast and leaves to get from his parent’s house what little of his belongings are not already inside Eddy’s apartement.

*

He has to be careful when they film, Eddy somehow always manages to forget there is a camera, and Brett has a feeling if it were up to him, their videos would be featuring them kissing already. He can’t even count the number of times they had to reshoot entirely, or cut off half the footage because his best friend can’t keep his hands to himself. 

From the corner of his eyes, he can see him leaning closer and closer to him. They are not filming this again. He is way too tired, and 1 a.m is too late to be starting over, so he leans away and lightly kicks his foot.

Eddy blinks at him, realizes what he is doing and offers him an apologetic smile before straightening up and talking to the camera as if nothing happened.

Brett feels so fond of this needy idiot it might be the end of him.

*

“We should go to Paris on our next word tour.”

Quarantine is beginning to end, and they jumped on the occasion to have a bubble tea date. The weather hasn’t warmed up yet, but they are too happy just to be back in their favorite bubble tea shop and plan the future. Their ankles are crossed together under the table and they huddle next to each other to keep warm.

Brett doesn’t really answer, just a - mmmh - too busy chewing on the boba pearls, it feels good not to have any guilt about ingesting all that bubble tea, now that they are working out properly.

Edd has been the one to convince him. It had started when he saw his best friend pinching the fat of his own stomach while brushing his teeth a few months ago, Brett slapped it and guffawed at the sound it made, then raised his shirt to slap at his own belly. They made a small competition of whose fat made the best noise, before deciding that maybe they needed to work out and have a better diet. 

He hated it at first, but every time he catches Eddy’s glances lingering on his form, there is a tingle reminding him it is worth it. And it’s doing so many good things for his best friend’s self-confidence to feel at ease in his body - Brett won’t lie, it’s also very nice to stare at his forearms. He might be doing it even now, as veins and muscles pop out when he rests his weight on his hands to get up.

Eddy’s fingers stray near his hip while they walk back to their place - because he likes touching him all the time, but also doesn’t want to invade his space in public - and for a reason Brett can’t pinpoint, lost in happy feelings, it makes him so fond he turns his head just enough to drop a kiss on his neck.

Laziness is in the small things. Like getting up on his toes just to kiss Eddy on the lips, what business does he have being tall like this? So when they are standing up, he doesn’t and instead reaches for his neck. It becomes one of his favorite parts about his best friend. It is always warm and soft against his lips, always eliciting some kind of noise from Eddy - a sigh, a contented groan, a giggle - and he loves to drag the tip of his nose along his jaw, feeling the pulse flutter against his mouth. He doesn’t have to tiptoe, and Eddy doesn’t have to bend. So he kisses him there all the time, as a good morning, as a thank you, as confort, as an I-just-want-to feel-your-warmth, an I-just-want-to-breath-your-smell. 

It’s not fingers anymore, but Eddy’s whole hand which comes to grab him after that. Trying uselessly to reduce the non existent space between them.

*

Brett isn’t afraid to die. He would rather live fully and risk it. But when that car swerves at the last moment, as he’s coming back from lunch at his parent’s house, honking furiously, and Brett falls on his ass, on the side of the road, his heart beating out of his chest, the only thing he thinks is I can’t die now, Eddy won’t get over it. 

So he isn’t afraid to die, but he decides to be careful about his life, because only half of it belongs to him.

*

This time Eddy was the one insisting they take a walk after the show. 

They are walking along the Seine, orange street lights reflecting in the water, and the happy noise of people chatting over a drink in the many bistros around. The red leaves of the platanes float in the night breeze, and the city is so, so beautiful.

Brett almost can’t believe they are there. He is in Paris with Eddy, just after finishing a successful show. Their own show.

They are doing it. They are accomplishing their dream. They travel the world and play music together.

Eddy is fiddling with Brett’s left hand, thumb going over his knuckles, caressing the contour of his nails, gaze fleeting from the City of Lights to Brett’s hand. Then they stop. There are just in front of the Bridge Alexander III, lovers and friends and party goers crossing and laughing and kissing. The sky is getting darker, but there are so many lights around them he can still see Eddy’s eyes shining and sparkling.

“I love your fingers,” his best friend says.

Then he gets something out of his pocket, something shiny - just another spark of orange in the middle of those golden lights - and the metal is cold around Brett’s ring finger.

“I love you,” he adds, as if it wasn’t obvious.

His heart is bursting with joy and he feels there is not enough oxygen in the world with how his full his chest is. 

“Where’s the other one?” Brett just asks.

Eddy smiles, his eyes crinkle and his bunny teeth are resting on his lower lip. He fishes the other one out and put it in Brett’s palm.

“Here you go.”

“You waited for a romantic walk along the water in Paris to put a ring on my finger. You planned this, you big sap.”

He still wants to jump around, to scream his happiness to all those French people he doesn’t know - Je l’aime - he wants to say when a lady blinks at them.

He grabs Eddy’s hand - so much bigger than his own - and puts the ring on.

“D’you think the ring will be a bother for left hand fingering?” 

Then look at each other and get their violin out at the same time. They play Navarra in the midst of laughter pearling out. Passersby are giving them strange looks, but they’ve done so much worse in public they don’t give a shit. 

There are those pieces so intricately associated with feelings. Like this one short piece from Suzuki book one that always reminds him of Gareth - whenever he gave a lesson to beginners after that, he avoided it like the plague.

But then there are pieces like Navarra. Pieces that, when he plays them, bring up images. Images of playing, just the two of them in practice rooms for forever, images of successful shows, of cheering fans, of Eddy looking at him like nothing else matters more in the world than the music they are making. So he likes to play Navarra, will never get tired of it like he will never get tired of the person it reminds him of.

The rings are not a hindrance.