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Twilight has just set in. The sky is painted in shades of purple with streaks of orange from the setting sun. Singapore has just started to light up, the lights of the city twinkling in the distance. A light summer breeze has blown the blinds open, so the room is shrouded in a misty darkness.
Brett drifts back into consciousness from his nap, and for once isn't rattle by a fever or a splitting headache. There's a mellow pain throbbing through his bones still, but he can think clearly and feels a bit like himself again. It is quite something compared to where was even yesterday, and he is thankful for it. Brett's learnt to be grateful for these little things now.
He finds the sleeping form of Eddy draped on the chair beside the bed. His laptop lay open on the nightstand, long gone off to sleep, and a cup of coffee was going cold beside it. Eddy looked so young when asleep, Brett mused. The gentleness across his features, the way his messy hair fell over his eyes, the way he slept with his mouth slightly open - in a heartbeat, it felt like the boy who sat beside Brett in maths tuition and nervously asked for a pen, all those years ago. But there’s also the visible dark patches under his eyes, the acne which breaks out when he is very stressed and the hazy images in Brett’s mind, of Eddy’s taut face and his shaky hands holding Brett’s own under the harsh lights of the hospital. Eddy hasn’t left his bedside in weeks, he knows, and without Brett’s constant nagging, hasn’t properly slept or eaten in as many days probably.
When did Eddy grow up so fast?
“Hey Eddy,” Brett nudges him softly, “Get out of that chair, bro, you’re gonna ruin your neck.”
He gets a groan in reply before Eddy groggily says, “Brett? You okay?”
“I’m okay, but don’t make me drag you into the bed,” Brett pulls back the covers, “Come here.”
Thankfully, Eddy doesn’t argue any more, Brett isn’t sure if he’s got the energy for that. He just quietly slips in under the quilt and snuggles close. An arm is promptly slung over Brett’s waist and a face is smushed against his side.
A warm thrill spreads through his insides, and Brett has got no explanation for why that happens. Hasn’t had one for nearly a decade and a half now. He just tries to hold his smile back and starts running his fingers through Eddy’s brown strands, the way he knows makes his best friend sleep better. And it works too, of course it does, as Eddy snuggles even closer. Within moments, Brett can hear soft snoring. With all the gentleness he can muster, Brett removes the glasses off Eddy's face and places them on the nightstand, beside the clock.
It’s only 6 pm. The orange streaks in the sky have gone now, the room has turned even murkier. They usually don’t stay in bed at this hour, but he won’t wake Eddy up. He needs the rest. Later, Brett thinks, he needs to get up and take charge of the food situation. His own appetite hasn’t come back in full form yet, but he’ll try to eat something because he needs to make Eddy eat. Maybe he’ll cook too, if he is up to it -- some noodle soup would be nice. But there’s no hurry for now. They can spend an hour more like this - nice and comfortable, under the darkness of the evening. His fingers leave Eddy’s hair and trails down his face and neck in light feathery motions. Eddy purrs happily in return.
Truth be told, Brett would gladly spend the rest of his life like this, if it ever comes to that. He’s sure of it now. The thought has always been there, nestled at the back of his mind, dimming and brightening like firelight through the ups and downs of the past years. But now there’s a liquid determination hardening in his bones, which makes that thought explode into an inferno. It consumes his waking days, all those hours he’s spent lying in bed, staring aimlessly at the ceiling, till it claws up his throat and forces him to spit the words out.
Brett just needs to spit the words out, the rest is just detail. He just needs to tell his truth, cut his chest open and bare his insides to his best friend and hope that there are no scars that won’t ever heal (Eddy could never do that to him, could he?). He can do it first thing next morning, when they both have just woken up, and Eddy brings coffee by the bedside. Nothing grand, just a simple declaration without much fanfare. He can do it a few days later, when he’s a bit better; he can take Eddy to a restaurant or something and properly lay the proposal in front of him. The way Eddy would want, but maybe that would be a little dishonest, no?
Or he can do it just now. Whisper the words into the darkness, let them touch Eddy gently and go. And if he doesn’t want them, they both can pretend it never happened in the first place.
“What are you thinking, bro?” Brett feels the mumbling against his thigh more than he hears it aloud.
“What the fuck,” he exclaims between chuckles, “I thought you were asleep??”
Eddy twists his head to face Brett, “You stopped cuddling me, how am I supposed to sleep?” The puppy eyes and dramatic pout have no right to be this lethal coming from a literal 27 year old.
“You big baby, what will I do with you?” Brett sighs in mock exasperation. They both laugh together, and it reverberates through the air, making everything glow quietly.
“No, Brett, I am serious,” Eddy sits up, and reaches across to grab his glasses, “...you’ve been thinking about something. What is it?”
“It’s nothing.”
“It is something, c’mon out with it.”
A moment of silence, some nervous shifting and twitching of hands- really he could say it now?
Eddy's searching gaze, the sparkling lights from outside reflected in his glasses, fixed on him- really how hard would it be?
A bolt of courage suddenly spikes up in his veins, out of nowhere. Brett knows if he let’s this chance go, he’ll never be able to tell Eddy what he wants to, so much.
“Yes, I- uh- wanted to tell you something-” Brett lets out quietly. Head down, eyes fixed on a corner of his blanket he's been fidgeting with.
“You’re giving me worries, bro. Is it about your health? Aren’t you feeling well? Should I call the hospital-” Eddy was about to leap out and jump to the phone before Brett grabbed his arm and stopped him.
“No, no, no, it’s not about my health. I’m fine, Eddy, trust me.” he patted his arm, “it’s something else.”
“Oh okay??-” Eddy, shifts a little closer to Brett, “Tell me?”
A sharp inhale.
“Look Eddy, I’ve had a lot of time to think these last few days. About things, y’know, about family and friends and work-” the alarm on Eddy’s face grows more pronounced with each word Brett speaks, “and us.”
“I’ve thought about it. We really have so little time to waste don’t we? Who knows what's gonna happen? Can we really afford to just sit around and not talk about important stuff? What if----”
Eddy cuts him off suddenly, “Stop messing around Brett,” his pupils are blown wide and eyebrows raised to the hairline, “Will you just let it out already?”
Brett turns to face Eddy fully. Really, what was he wasting so many words for?
“I love you.”
Eddy visibly deflates. “That was it? You really had me worried bro…” he chuckles nervously, “I mean, I know you love me. You say it all the time-”
“Let me finish. I do tell it all the time, but it is very serious this time. I do love you bro, so much.” Eddy gives him a tiny smile and squeezes his hand. “You know I’m aro and ace and maybe the way I love is different, and maybe people don’t think it is as important as big romantic ‘I-would-die-for-you’ love or whatever but I don’t care. It has taken me a long time to come here and I wouldn’t change a thing about myself.”
Eddy’s little smile grows into something almost blindingly bright, with his eyes sparkling with tears. “I know Brett, and I’m so proud of you”, he says softly.
“Whatever anyone says, what I feel about you is very important for me. You’re my best friend Eddy, and you’ve always been here for me. We’ve seen the world together, built this dream together, been through the worst- and there’s nothing I would like more-” Brett really doesn’t like how his voice cracks at the end of it, “than to spend the rest of my life beside you.”
He clearly hears Eddy’s intake of breath, “In what way? Partners? Platonic partners?”
“Any way you would have me. As best friends, as partners whatever- I like ‘platonic partners’ though.”
“Bro.” The big crybaby dissolves into tears and Brett has to gather him in his arms, wipe his cheeks with his own sweater paws and run circles down his back to try to calm him. Brett continues, “Look I don’t want to mislead you, and we need to be clear about certain things. I’m not attracted to you, I’m not attracted to anyone in fact. I can’t give you sex or marriage or kids- no don’t shake your head- I know those things are significant for people and you’ve wanted them before. So you’ve got to tell me if you aren’t okay with any of this. I need to know-”
A tight ball of dread unfurls in his chest and prickles at this skin. What if Eddy--
“Is that what you think, dude ?” Eddy sniffles against his neck, “That those things are more important to me that you? Nothing is, I think I’ve made that plenty clear.” “I might’ve wanted them before but dreams change, don’t they? I’ve tried having the ‘I-would-die-for-you’ love, the dreams about marriage and kids and all that jazz, but they didn’t make me happy, no.”
Brett nods silently. He’s been in the wings, seeing all of Eddy’s life unfold from the front seat after all.
“You make me happy.”
Brett’s throat is all clogged up and his tongue is all tied up, so he can only hug Eddy tighter. No more words are spoken between them for a long time, ‘cause no words weren't needed anymore. It’s always been this easy, to be just them.
“So are we doing this, for real?” Brett asks later, much later, when they are in the kitchen. He did end up making noodle soup after all, while Eddy was just there looking pretty, leaning against the counter. In the end Brett had to almost push him to go and set the table, to get his lazy ass moving or Eddy wouldn't've left Brett's side at all.
“Yes, yes we are.” Eddy punctuates his ultimate declaration with his adorable bunny-toothed smile. And for good measure he reaches across to plant a kiss, as soft as the summer breeze against skin, on Brett’s cheeks.
To seal the deal, as they say.