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It wasn’t an immediate shift. It began before they even moved to the states. When Jemaine first met Bret, he immediately knew he was funny. All of the girls had a crush on Bret, and Jemaine couldn’t deny that he understood their attraction. Sure Jemaine was a little jealous that he wasn’t getting all of that attention from girls, but he did alright with the ladies. He had girlfriends here and there. Never much for hookups, always a dating man.
It was a sneaking feeling. It started so small in fact, that he couldn’t even remember when it started. They would make occasional flirtatious jokes, saying they should pretend it’s their anniversary so they could get a hotel upgrade, Bret joking in a restaurant that if Jemaine didn’t quiet down his laughing that he’d pretend to propose and embarrass them both (although they might get free dessert out of it). Always just teetering on the edge of homoeroticism. It would happen in moments of reflection that Jemaine would wonder if he enjoyed those games a little too much. The two would go get a kebab and come back to their little flat in Wellington, and after they both went to bed Jemaine would lay awake thinking about Bret. About how hard they would laugh together. About how seen Bret made him feel, teasing him about things he did months or even years ago. Remembering things about Jemaine that he didn’t even remember about himself. Years of this pattern passed before Jemaine even started to get self conscious about it. After a certain point, he banned his mind from thinking about Bret after 10pm.
Jemaine’s family would even ask about his flat mate. “How’s Bret?” “Are you two affording groceries okay?” “How is his family?” And Jemaine would laugh and explain to the best of his ability without having to drag Bret into the conversation.
When they finally moved to New York, it got harder to ignore. They shared a bedroom, so they spent a lot of time together. This meant that they started to find each other more annoying, but they also got to know each other even more intimately. Sure Jemaine would get mad when Bret would leave dishes in the sink, but on the other hand it made it that much sweeter when Bret didn’t leave dishes in the sink. “Jemaine, did you see? I washed the dishes, just for you.” He’d say with a wink. Jemaine would roll his eyes, but inside he liked when Bret ribbed him like that. “That’s very generous of you to wash your own dishes,” Jemaine would reply, his voice soaked in sarcasm.
The subtle annoyances were of course irritating, but the bickering had a domestic, long term married couple sort of charm to it. What really bothered Jemaine was when Bret would date people. He was as supportive as he could be on the outside (although he’d admit that he didn’t try that hard), but on the inside he would repeatedly wish that it wouldn’t work out. He didn’t love seeing Bret sad per se, but he preferred Breakup Bret to Relationship Bret. Breakup Bret would usually just sit on the couch eating junk food and talking about how they should just give up and go back to New Zealand. Jemaine knew that Bret didn’t mean that and was just using homesickness as a way to process his feelings. Plus, if there’s one thing Jemaine can provide that no American girl can, it’s talk about New Zealand.
“And do you remember the penguins? How there were penguins in New Zealand?” Jemaine asked from the kitchen, grabbing the kettle to pour another cup of tea.
“Yeah,” Bret gave a half smile. Wrapped up in that blanket, he looked so sweet. Jemaine didn’t let his eyes linger, but he kept a picture in his mind of it. He thought he was very good at hiding his feelings. He hoped.
“Here.” Jemaine handed the warm mug to his roommate. Bret looked up, confused
“For me?”
“Yes, for you.”
“Aw, thanks man,” Bret gave such a genuine smile that it made Jemaine’s heart skip a beat. Jemaine sighed, trying to subtly shake off the feeling.
“I think I’m gonna go to bed,” Jemaine said. He was tired, and as much as he loved knowing that Bret was sad because he got dumped again, he felt like he’d completed all of the tasks that a good friend would do in that situation.
“Oh, okay,” Bret cast his gaze down. Jemaine squinted, wondering if he was upset or just looking at his cup of tea.
“Alright, goodnight.” Jemaine decided he didn’t feel like mulling that over for too long and went to the bedroom.
“Jemaine?” Bret called to the room just as Jemaine had pulled his baggy old ugly t-shirt over his head (the one with the curry stains).
“Yes?” He called back as he undid his belt, still changing into his pajamas.
“Could you come sit with me for just a little while longer?” Jemaine paused, holding each end of his belt in his hands.
“Sure, Bret,” he called back. Jemaine’s drowsiness suddenly disappeared. He was wanted. Needed, even. He and Bret knew they were close friends, but it was rare that that level of vulnerability would show. Bret was asking for the favor of his company, and Jemaine could happily comply. He put his belt back on and went out to the couch to sit with Bret.
They didn’t do much. It just seemed like Bret didn’t want to be alone. Jemaine fiddled around on his bass for a while and Bret read his book about karate, occasionally looking up to let Jemaine know whether or not he liked what he heard. Jemaine shot him a side eye every time, but that didn’t discourage him from continuing to comment.
Jemaine had been focused on his bass for a while when he realized that the peanut gallery had been silent for quite some time. He looked over and Bret was sound asleep, book open and laying on his chest. Jemaine grimaced when his heart fluttered at how peaceful Bret looked. He couldn’t stop himself from feeling the feelings, but he could at least let the feelings know that he disagreed with them just showing up whenever they wanted to.
Jemaine’s body heaved in a big sigh, and he set his bass down next to the couch as quietly as he could. He silently turned off the living room light, drew the curtains, and finally went to go sleep in his own bed.