Page 23 of Electric Boy

“So you love me, do you?” Michael smirked, feeling like crowing a little.

Julian ducked his head, embarrassed, just like Michael thought he would. “You’re all right,” Julian mumbled, smiling shyly down at his curry-laden fork.

Michael finally gave in to his urge and reached across the small vinyl table, rubbing away the spot of sauce from the corner of Julian’s mouth. Julian watched with wide eyes and reddening cheeks as Michael sucked his thumb clean.

A cheeky grin worked its way onto Julian’s sharp features. Under the table, Michael felt Julian’s boot travel up his leg, playfully stroking his shin. Michael jumped a little and threw a mock-stern glance Julian’s way. Julian bit his lip innocently and continued the covert assault, escalating to trapping Michael’s leg between the two of his, squeezing. Michael choked on a laugh.

“What do you think you’re doing?” he asked quietly, nearly inaudible over the din of the restaurant.

Julian shrugged, just kept worrying his lip between his teeth, his eyes boring intently into Michael’s.

“Someone could see.”

Another shrug. He was being so petulant that Michael wanted to kiss that smug little smirk right off his face.

Michael gave the shop a cursory glance. No one was looking. Of course they weren’t. Everyone was always more concerned with their own lives than anyone else’s. He grabbed Julian’s pointed chin and planted a hard, chaste kiss on his lips. He pulled back before the latter could react, intent on making it more of a statement than an event. It had the desired effect. As Michael turned his attention back to his lunch, Julian’s pale cheeks bloomed an attractive pink and he spent the rest of the meal in a dreamy silence, flashing coy glances at Michael from under his fringe every so often.

* * *

Aisling arrived at the Mango Club not long after Ghostly Unknown Octopus (Julian’s band name of the week) wrapped up their set. She sauntered backstage and up to the greenroom entirely unhindered. If only fans knew it was that easy. Not like Julian’s band had any fans to speak of.

The narrow, red-walled room was empty save for defunct amplifiers, towers of folding chairs, and Rahul, who sat by the half-open windows, smoking furiously. His dark eyes darkened further when he caught sight of her. Rahul had never made any secret of his distaste for her. Which she’d always found quite rich considering he was the one who’d ruined her relationship.

When she first started following Julian around like a lovesick puppy back at uni, Julian would still occasionally mention his “best mate,” but it was always quickly cut off with a rueful smile or a creased brow, like someone who’d accidentally referred to a loved one in the present tense before remembering that they’d passed on. She’d assumed they must’ve had a row and stopped being friends. This alleged best mate never came down to visit, even during holidays, and after a few months Julian had stopped mentioning him at all.

Shortly after she’d dropped out though, that so-called best friend reappeared. It was an awkward first few months back. Rahul was sleeping on Mel’s sofa and there was this odd tension in the air as if he expected Julian to ask him to move in with him. It had almost felt as if Julian knew about Rahul’s expectation but was purposefully ignoring it. For all that they exclaimed to others what good friends they’d been as children, they were unaccountably shy around each other, like little kids who’ve been apart for a while and, when reunited, hide behind their mothers’ skirts. It was around this time when Aisling and Julian had had their first fight.

She’d asked, quite innocently -- what had happened between them to make them as stilted and awkward around each other as they were now. Julian had become oddly defensive and mulish, insisting there was nothing wrong with how they were; it was just them getting used to being around each other again. Aisling had never been one to back gracefully out of a fight, so when Julian became argumentative, she became downright combative. The fight ended up spiralling out of the subject into every wrong they’d ever committed against one another, starting with Julian never remembering her birthday and ending with Aisling never replacing his hairspray when she finished it up.

Things only became worse after he and Rahul finally reconciled. They were thick as thieves again, those two. They spoke each other’s daft little language, making up songs together and laughing over jokes Aisling couldn’t even begin to comprehend. On the few occasions when the three of them had been together, it had been clear there was a third wheel and it wasn’t Rahul. Aisling began to feel as though she had been a substitute all these years, a diversion, a placeholder for when Rahul returned. It was a nasty feeling. And she’d taken her frustration out on the person nearest her -- Julian. She would have taken it out on Rahul if she could have, but the bugger wasn’t around her often enough.

Their dislike had always been mutual. The second Rahul had met her, it had been obvious he’d seen her as the usurper. She’d stolen away his best friend. Boo bloody hoo. If he’d bothered to stay in Julian’s life, he wouldn’t have had to be replaced. Not that Aisling was a replacement for Rahul… Sod it. She was. She was man enough to admit it now. She’d always been an interim-Rahul. That was why their relationship had begun to crumble as soon as Julian had him back.

Well, they could keep each other.

“Have you seen Julian?” Aisling asked, trying to keep her voice politely neutral.

“Downstairs. Holding court at the bar,” Rahul replied, sounding as bitter and cast-aside as Aisling had when Julian had thrown her over to spend time with Rahul. She could sympathise with that. Julian was a vain and fair-weather friend, just as likely to stand by you as go prancing off after the latest shiny object.

Aisling nodded and was about to turn to go back the way she’d come when she hesitated. Would Julian normally have thrown Rahul over? Hadn’t the two of them been inseparable since Rahul’s return? Could what have come between them be the same as what had come between her and Julian?

And then there was the nagging good part of her that wanted Julian to be safe and well and happy. Because she’d loved him. God help her, she had. And if anyone cared as deeply for Julian’s well-being as she did, it was Rahul.

She tucked a stray curl behind her ear and paused a moment as she gathered herself. Being vulnerable around the enemy was never something one wanted to do. But you know what they say. My enemy’s enemy and all that.

“Rahul?”

His heavy eyebrows quirked in surprise. Or suspicion. She couldn’t tell.

“Do you know one of Julian’s friends? A tall bloke, blond, wears glasses?”

Rahul’s lip curled as if tasting something sour and Aisling knew even before he spoke that he’d recognized the description. “What about him?”

“He was hanging around outside of Julian’s flat the other day. I went round to pick up some of my things and he was there. He was… weird. In a not good sort of way. I think he might’ve followed me, too. I don’t know. Only I thought for sure I saw him again when I was leaving for work.”

Rahul was sitting up straighter, his attention clearly piqued. Aisling’s “my enemy’s enemy” assessment had been right after all.

“I also got the impression,” she hazarded on, trusting in Rahul more than ever before. “That he might be more to Julian than just strictly ‘friends,’ if you catch my meaning. Or, at least, he thought so.”