Broken String

XXXVI

"Oh, fuck!"
Anna's harsh epithet wakes him up with a start. 
"Fuck." she states again as she flies out of the bed. She grabs her head. 
"Ow. Fuck."
Awkwardness fills Eddy hard. Because he remembers, now, through the pounding of his own head. Oh, no. Oh, hell. He slept with her. He slept with his friend. 
"Oh, God." he groans. 
Worse: he slept with his friend and he can't get himself out of bed so he can't even run out of the room like the coward he would love to be. He'll have to wait for Brett to help him. Or ask Anna. 
He would rather cut off his right leg than ask Anna.
How could he have been this stupid?
"You good?" he asks, because he needs to say something, right? He can't just lie here, limply in the bed like a salted slug? She turns around to him furiously, throwing her dress back over her head. 
"No."
She grabs her bag and before he knows it she is slamming the door behind her and she's already gone. Eddy groans and leans back in the pillows. The wheelchair eyes him from the side of the bed with an accusing glare. 
"I know." he tells it harshly. "I fucked up."
Is Brett even up? Did he get drunk too? Eddy buries his face in the quilt and settles in to wait. No way is he waking anyone up to help him. His head pounds and his stomach is arid, waves of nausea pulling through him in sync with the pounding in his brain. He can't throw up, though. He'll never make it to the bathroom in time. So he takes deep breaths and manages to hold on as the nausea ebbs away a little.
But wait. He's being an idiot, yet again. Brett doesn't know he's up either, does he? He picks up his phone quickly and types out his message. 

   Um, bro. If you're up, and you have a mo?

He scrunches his eyes closed as the awkwardness of it all washes over him again. Look. They've been best friends forever. He's seen Brett do the morning-after walk of shame more times than he can count, far more often than he himself has had to. Hell, he's been in the other bed, pretending to be asleep before as Brett has gotten it on with some girl. There's something very different about it when you're dependent on the other guy, though. God, how he wishes he could fly to Hogwarts right now and steal Harry's invisibility cloak, so he can pretend he's not really here. Instead he lies still and braces himself. Is Brett even up?

The soft knock at the door comes only thirty seconds later and despite himself his heart lifts. 
"Hey." he calls as it opens and a dishevelled looking Brett walks in.
"Hey. You good?"
"Um. Not really."
Brett smiles faintly, his eyebrows creasing together. 
"You need anything? Bro. You're green. Do I need to get a bucket or something?"
"No, no. Just some paracetamol? Maybe?"
To be honest, he's still not a 100 percent on the bucket. But he can't put Brett through that, he just can't. 
Brett is back after a minute with two tablets and a glass of water. Eddy takes the tablets with the smallest amount of water he can and lies back, groaning softly. 
"Just give me a minute. I'll be okay. How are you?"
"Better than you."
Eddy sighs. 
"I'm an idiot. I'm a stupid, stupid idiot."
Brett is quiet for a long moment. 
"Yeah? I mean... you don't... you didn't..."
Now Eddy's eyes fly open and he takes in his best friend's face. He's slightly red, it seems, clearly he's finding this conversation awkward too.
"Don't what? Didn't what?"
Brett rolls his eyes. 
"Like her. You... don't?"
"No! Yeah, I like her as a friend."
"Shit." Brett says, so deadpan that Eddy almost laughs. 
"I know."
Brett is quiet for a long moment, looking down at his knees. Then he takes a deep breath. 
"I think she does, you know. That's probably why she came flying out of the room and ran down the stairs."
"What. You think she likes me?"
Brett nods. 
"No way." Eddy shakes his head, then winces at the pain. "I... shit man. Fuck. I'm such an idiot."
"Maybe I'm wrong."
"You're definitely wrong. We're just friends. Who got way too drunk. And it'll be fucking awkward to see her at the con, but it'll be okay. Right? In the long run? I mean, she has a new boyfriend every week."
Which is exactly why he could never be with her, even if he were attracted to her. That's not him, he's not a one week and done kind of guy. He knows that. Just like he knows he's only trying to convince himself that everything will be okay, not Brett.
If he's ever going to have another relationship with someone, it'll have to be real. 

Suddenly Brett grins, but the grin is slightly off. 
"Was she a good fuck, though?" he asks.
Eddy takes a deep breath as the images from the night before enter his brain. Her tits, bouncing up and down as she rode him. Her moans. His erection stirs under the quilt and he blinks quickly to chase the memories away. 
"Yeah, she was."
"Good." Brett smiles. "You deserved some."
"Thanks, bro." he says. "Doesn't stop me from being an idiot, though. Imma have to talk to her."
"Yeah, but not today. Anyway. You ready to get up? No hurling on my clothes, please?"
Eddy grins. His stomach is actually feeling a lot better now. 
"I promise not to hurl on you. Thanks, bro."