Chapter Text
Eddy stares out the window seat at the open ocean stretching from horizon to horizon. He has a neck pillow, but he’s never been able to sleep on planes, so he watches the curved wisps of white cirrus clouds flit across the gray sea, worrying his lower lip between his front teeth. He’s two hours into his five hour flight, noise canceling headphones over his ears, listening to the Adagio of Sibelius’s 7th Symphony. It’s one of his all-time favorite pieces, but the familiar melodies do nothing to lift his grim mood.
He’d planned on visiting Kaohsiung for a while. His grandmother wasn’t going to be around much longer, as his mum had been continually reminding him. It had been a coincidence that Ray had had an Asia tour planned during the summer, which was when Eddy had intended to visit. It was true that when Ray had told Eddy he would be performing in Taipei, Eddy had changed his flight in order to fly home out of Taoyuan International rather than Kaohsiung, bought an additional ticket to fly from Kaohsiung to Taipei, and booked a hotel in the city for a couple days before and after Ray’s concert. That had been on purpose. But his only motive had been to catch up with an old friend (and see him perform). Eddy had even invited Brett to go with him. Brett had shrugged him off and said that he didn’t want to intrude on Eddy’s time with his family. When Eddy had suggested Brett join him just for the Taipei portion of his trip, Brett had said he didn’t think it was worth it to fly there to stay only a few days, and that the two of them would surely meet up with Ray some other time.
He hadn’t intended to film anything with Ray when he’d booked his trip, either. He’d told Ray that he planned on attending his Taipei concert, and had suggested they meet for drinks afterwards. Perhaps go sightseeing the following day, if Ray had time. It was only when he asked Ray if he had any comp tickets that Ray had suggested Eddy hang out backstage with him instead. “I haven’t updated my ‘Backstage with Ray’ series in a while,” he’d said. “It could be fun to film a new segment with you there.”
It hadn’t occurred to him to consult Brett before agreeing. He certainly hadn’t intended to keep it from him, but it hadn’t seemed important. He knew Ray would have an actual cameraman, but the ‘Backstage with Ray’ videos had a vlog-like vibe. A lot of Ray chatting to the camera, preening, hyping himself up, stuffing his face, and working out his pre-concert jitters by cracking off-color jokes and doing calisthenics in a suit. And warming up, playing scales and running through the hardest parts of whatever concerto he was performing with a casual virtuosity that Eddy could admit he envied. But Ray had flexed on him for a long time, and hadn’t diminished his enjoyment of Ray’s playing. He’d thought it would be fun. He hadn’t really even thought of it as a collab. He’d just be hanging out with Ray with a camera rolling.
But he hadn’t expected that to happen when he’d booked his trip to Taipei, or even when Ray had blatantly flirted with him while they were filming. Ray had always done that; it was part of how they were around each other. He didn’t even begin to pick up on Ray’s intentions until after his encore. Ray, Eddy, and the cameraman returned to Ray’s dressing room, and Ray told the cameraman that he could go home, that they gotten enough footage. It was only then that Eddy suspected Ray might want to get him alone. When Ray suggested they play something together on the piano, when he sat on the small bench so close to Eddy their thighs touched, Eddy suspected Ray wasn’t just flirting to flirt. When Ray had wrapped an arm around Eddy while they played together, he turned to look at him with such unmistakable desire that Eddy knew what he would ask. When Ray leaned in to kiss him, and Eddy wanted that kiss so badly that he was the one to closed the gap, he knew that when Ray asked, he would say yes. After their kiss ended, Ray asked. And Eddy said yes.
But the evening started innocently enough. If Eddy wore a russet colored, silk button-down and nice trousers, if he took extra care styling his hair and spot-concealed the worst of his acne scars, it was because he knew Ray would be dressed up, and that they would be on camera. He knew he wouldn’t compete with Ray in the looks department, but he wanted to make himself presentable, and to dress for the occasion, even if he would be spending the concert backstage. He didn’t imagine that Ray would unbutton his silk shirt, that he’d cup Eddy’s straining cock through the front of his dress pants, that he’d tangle his fingers in Eddy’s carefully coiffed hair, caress his face, and kiss him breathless. If he’d known, would he have dressed differently? Acted differently while they were filming? Would he have gone to Ray’s concert at all?
He told himself, sitting alone in Ray’s dressing room, that he was willing to accept the fallout when he went home to Brett. But now, as he watches the monitor on the seat in front of him and sees the little plane icon creeping along towards Singapore, he feels sick with guilt and dreads telling Brett what he did. And he has to. Brett will know immediately that something is eating him, will ask for an explanation. But even if Eddy could somehow hide it, he wouldn’t. He doesn’t know why he feels guilty. He didn’t cheat on Brett. He and Brett aren’t together. He knows that Brett will be hurt, and jealous, and he feels bad about that, but it doesn’t mean he did anything wrong.
Except--he knew Brett would view it as a betrayal when he did it. Eddy felt like he was betraying Brett, too. Even though he and Brett aren’t dating each other, there’s been an unspoken agreement between them, since they moved to Singapore and started living together again, that neither of them will date anyone else. Brett semi-regularly goes out alone, and Eddy knows he hooks up with girls when he does, though he tries to be discreet about it. He never brings anyone to their place, and Eddy doubts he sees the same girl more than once. Eddy supposes Brett wouldn’t begrudge him doing the same, but he doesn’t and doesn’t want to. They don’t date because they have come to an unvoiced but mutual decision that neither of them is going to introduce anyone into their dynamic who might come between them. Eddy slept with Ray anyway.
Eddy promised himself--and told Ray--just one night. But Eddy stayed that night, and had breakfast with Ray the following morning, and spent the day with him in Taipei until it was time for Ray to head to the airport. While they were on their way to the Botanical Garden, Brett texted him to ask how Ray’s concert had gone, and what they’d gotten up to. All Eddy told him was that they had ended up filming a video together. A video Brett has probably seen by now. But he doesn’t imagine Brett saw anything other than Ray and Eddy’s usual flirty banter. Eddy himself hadn’t thought anything of it at the time.
Brett won’t suspect anything because Eddy lied to him. A lie of omission, sure, but a lie all the same. He doesn’t want to lie to Brett. He and Brett don’t lie to each other. They don’t keep secrets from each other, either. Except--well, but that’s not really a secret--it’s just something they don’t talk about. They both know Eddy is in love with Brett. And they both know Brett feels… something, for Eddy, but that he’s decided not to act on it. They don’t talk about what Brett feels or why he won’t do anything about those feelings, either. But Eddy knows that, even if Brett has decided they can’t be together, their partnership is the most important relationship in Brett’s life, and he takes his commitment to Eddy as seriously as a marriage. Brett will never get married because he’s chosen to share his life with Eddy. And maybe he doesn’t resent that. Maybe he can have sex with random women, and have Eddy as his friend and companion and business and life partner, and not want anything else. Eddy can’t. He can’t live a life without intimacy, and Brett won’t give it to him. So he got it from someone else. And that was exactly what they’d both silently agreed not to do.
But even though Brett will view his sleeping with Ray as a betrayal, he won’t end their partnership over it. Both because he’s as committed to Eddy as if they were married, and also because they’re not. Eddy didn’t make any vows to Brett, and Brett isn’t going to hold him to a contract he didn’t sign. If Eddy’s honest with himself, that’s part of why he did it. He knows they will get through this, no matter how angry or hurt Brett is, or how miserable he makes Eddy’s life in the short term. The knowledge that Brett won’t leave comforts him and makes him feel guiltier at the same time.
And he is guilty. Eddy watches the plane icon moving incrementally towards home and the clock counting down the minutes until they land like a condemned man awaiting the hour of his execution and reflecting on his crimes. He made his bed, and he lay in it with Ray, who Brett and he regard as a friend and a mentor and half-jokingly revere as a god. Now he has to face Brett and tell him what he did and watch Brett’s face crumple. It will hurt, and he’ll deserve it. Brett didn’t push him into Ray’s arms, and Ray didn’t twist his arm to get him into bed. He has no one to blame but himself.
And the worst part is, Ray wants more. When they were at the Botanical Garden, Ray pitched the idea of intimacy without commitment. Seeing each other when they can--not just for sex, for affection--but with the understanding that it can’t last forever. As guilty as he feels, Eddy is tempted by Ray’s offer. He still remembers the way Ray’s eyes lit up when he looked at him, lying on his side naked and waiting. Eddy felt Ray’s desire to kiss his skin before felt the touch of his lips there. He still feels Ray’s breath against his ear now. His parting, whispered words still echo in Eddy’s head:
Don’t let him take you for granted. Don’t let him think he’s the only one who wants you, or wants to make you happy.
He can’t help thinking that maybe Ray is right. That maybe it wasn’t wrong to spend the night with him. That maybe he needed to feel wanted. Of all the things he has to tell Brett, that will be the hardest. That he isn’t sorry. That he’d do it again. That he’ll do it again, because he’s no longer willing to feel lonely all the time despite having a partner. He honestly has no idea how Brett will react to that.