We don't like to put a label on it or, in other words, Twosetviolin one-shots

People don't change

Eddy, as usual, hoped it will turn out otherwise. That this time those words and touches mean something more. That maybe there's a chance, a tiny chance, that he's more than just a co-worker and a plaything for Brett Yang on lonely nights. And as always, he knew he was going to be disappointed.

How long have they known each other? How long has he had to watch Brett rise to fame, throw banquets, make a fortune? Eddy should have realised a long time ago that he meant nothing to him.

He woke up during the night with an arm wrapped around his torso. His bare back rested against Eddy's chest, skin to skin, could it be more intimate? (It could, if only they shared anything more than that). Brett was sleeping, breathing evenly, his body rising and falling slightly. Gleaming in the dark around his neck was his tacky silver-plated pendant that Eddy had learned to hate. It made him feel senseless hope. After all, he had bought it himself, given it to him himself, and Brett wore it. Eddy used to think it meant something. But he was wrong.

Normally, Eddy would have as always closed his eyes, listened to Brett's steady breathing, and tried to fall asleep, getting rid of all the intrusive thoughts.

But not today.

Today, for the first time, he found the courage to walk away. Or maybe it just hurt so much today that he couldn't stand it anymore.

Gently, so as not to wake Brett, he took his arm from the body and moved away. He got up, put on his trousers, threw a T-shirt on, and started to search in the darkness for the rest of his things, which he was slowly putting into the bag.

"Eddy?" He heard a sleepy voice from behind him and shuddered, accustomed to the silence.

He didn't answer. He didn't know what to say.

He heard the creaking of the bed, and a now more awake voice asked:

"Eddy?"

He packed the last thing and stood up, unable to turn around. If he turns around, he'll want to stay. If he speaks, his voice will crack.

"Are you leaving?"

"Yes."

"Why?"

Eddy bit his lip. Because I can't stand the thought of leaving in the morning. What'd be wrong in telling Brett the truth? It won't change anything now. It does not matter.

Just don't lie to yourself. He will never give you what you want.

"I... I can't do this anymore."

"What are you talking about?"

Eddy wanted to laugh. Of course Brett had no idea what he was talking about. Because he doesn't see it that way. Because he doesn't care as much.

"I can no longer be at your beck and call just to have you tell me to go out the back door in the morning," he began to say, his voice, as he'd thought, expressing his feelings. But perhaps it was the time to let it all out. "I can't listen to what you tell me and then watch rich ladies throw themselves at you at banquets and see you not turning down any of them. I can't spend every day wondering if anyone else has slept in your bed. I can't stay with you for the night to find out in the day that it didn't matter."

Only then did he allow himself to look at the dark figure standing behind him. He was used to the darkness by now and could see the man clearly, though perhaps it would have been better if he had remained not visible.

Brett frowned.

"As if only I were to blame," he said accusingly. "Don't try to make me the villain here. As far as I remember, you were the one who begged me to come see you last week."

Eddy pursed his lips. Brett didn't understand. But what did he expect? People don't change overnight, no matter how much he would want them to.

"You're right. I was stupid."

Brett didn't respond at first, but he relaxed and his expression changed.

"Stay," he finally asked, and Eddy felt as if his heart was breaking when he replied, "No."

"Stay, please. Go back to bed."

Didn't Brett understand how badly Eddy wanted to? And that it was the exact reason why he had to leave? He sighed.

"Let's say I go back. We'll go to sleep. And then? What will happen in the morning?"

Brett didn't answer, and that was the final proof for Eddy.

"Good night, Brett."

Eddy left, ignoring the part of him that told him to stay. The part that said if he couldn't have Brett completely, he should at least be content with what he had now. The part that hoped Brett would run after him. He had been listening to it for too long.