Touch

9.

When Brett woke up the next morning, he didn't really understand where he was at first. Had he gone home with someone? It would be such a dick move to let Eddy walk home alone, though. At least if he was anywhere near the state he was the last Brett remembered of him.

He jumped a bit when the curled up covers next to him moved and continued to snore. He found his glasses on the night stand next to him and put them on to see who it was. Eddy? Well, that made a whole lot of sense, actually. He knew he wouldn't abandon Eddy in the state he had been when Brett told him to chill on the drinking. After that he didn't really have much memory of anything, though, indicating he himself probably had more than enough to drink as well.

He sat up in Eddy's bed, trying not to wake his snoring best friend. That's when he felt the headache and the nausea overwhelm him.
"Fuck", he mumbled, realizing he'd probably puke pretty soon. He rolled out of the warm bed and noticed he was fully clothed. 'Phew', he thought, mostly jokingly, while dragging his feet over the cold floor towards the bathroom. His stomach was threatning to turn inside out, and he realized he had to hurry a bit more than he originally thought to make it.

Eddy woke up to the sound of Brett puking in the bathroom across the hall, feeling his face twist in disgust at the sound. He didn't really feel too bad himself. A slight headache, probably don't go on a rollercoaster right now, but apart from that he was okay. He thought about the night before. They went out, partied, Ray told Brett how Eddy felt about him... He wondered how much Brett remembered of that. Would it change anything if he remembered? At least it didn't seem like he remembered when they got home last night. He decided to ignore it for now and see if Brett needed anything instead.

He got out of bed, still wearing the outfit from the day before. He felt gross, and moved towards the wardrobe to find something more comfortable to wear. The sound of Brett's guts turning filled the hallway again as he pulled off the hoodie from yesterday. Gross, really. Eddy hated the sound of puking, the smell of puking, the idea of puking. He felt his own stomach threaten the same, but he breathed his way out of it. Today, he'd take care of Brett.

Brett heard footsteps outside the bathroom door followed by a quiet knock.
"It's taken", he said in a weak voice, fearing that speaking too loudly would cause his stomach to disagree again. He was sitting on the tiled floor, leaning against the wall next to the toilet just waiting for his body to try and empty his already empty stomach again.
"I know, I have some water for you", Eddy replied in a soft voice as not to upset Brett's headache. "Can I come in?"

Brett reached over to unlock the door, feeling the sweat form on his forehead.
"This is the last time I drink, I swear", he said as Eddy entered the bathroom with a glass of water in hand. He handed it to Brett, trying his best to ignore the smell of misplaced stomach contents.
"I don't believe you, man", he replied with a teasing tone. "I think I remember you saying this the last time as well, if I'm not wrong."
"Shut up, I know what I said last time, but this time I mean it."

Eddy could tell Brett was trying not to puke again just by looking at his pale, sweaty face and his heavy breathing.
"How much do you remember from last night, though? You drank quite a lot..." Brett just shrugged, unable to reply. He moved closer to the white porcelain throne, expecting his body to throw out the two sips of water he had consumed seconds ago. Eddy turned away, knowing his stomach wouldn't agree if he were to see what was about to happen. He needed to be okay, to care for Brett.