Page 27 of Electric Boy

“Sure.”

“Is Julian shagging anybody?”

Rahul nearly spat out the mouthful of tea he’d just swallowed. A good portion did find its way up his nose, however. “Pardon?” he wheezed.

“It’s only Aisling, innit? She thought he was carrying on with somebody. I figured you know his sex life better than I do -- thank God -- and maybe have an idea.”

Rahul drank a bit of tea to wash down the tea that had stuck in his throat. “I dunno. No? As far as I know, the only person he’s slept with in a good long while has been Aisling. I mean, he flirts like nothing else. But that’s just Julian, you know? He’d flirt with a postbox in the right lighting.”

She seemed to mull this over for a moment before nodding. “Yeah. That’s what I thought. Just wanted to make sure.”

She returned to counting up the money in the till, but the gears of Rahul’s mind were turning. He thought back to Aisling’s candid statement from the other night, about how she’d spotted Michael outside of Julian’s flat and that he might have followed her. He didn’t doubt it. Michael was just that kind of mental. He had no doubt that Michael’s intentions with Julian were less than pure, and he was trying to muscle Aisling out of Julian’s life entirely so that he could move in. The right bastard.

Speak of the devil.

The bell above the door chimed as Julian and Michael sauntered in. They were mid-conversation, the last snippets of it audible as they crossed the threshold.

“-- you’ll spoil me!”

“Don’t you deserve to be spoiled? Just a little?”

“Get lost! I can pay for my own lunch every now and then.”

“I know you can, but I like treating you.”

Julian gave Michael a playful shove that didn’t come close to physically moving Michael. Michael responded by squeezing Julian’s shoulder, a little too long and a little too hard to be strictly platonic. Rahul wished Michael’s hand would rot right off his wrist. He tried to will it to do so with the power of his stink-eye alone, but the hand refused to pay attention. The same held with Julian, who was completely oblivious to Rahul sitting there at the counter, not ten feet away, having to watch and listen to this gratuitous display.

“I’ll come pick you up at yours at seven tomorrow night,” Michael said, his voice all smooth and posh. “And don’t be late. I’ve made us reservations.”

“All right, Duke of Westminster. I still don’t see why you can’t tell me where we’re going.”

“Because I want to surprise you.”

The grin Julian turned on Michael then was blinding. It made Rahul want to put his fist through the glass countertop.

“See you tomorrow night.” Michael gave Julian’s shoulder a last, lingering squeeze and left, sending the bell rattling again.

Julian strode unhurriedly around the counter, expression dreamy. “All right, Mel, Rahul,” he greeted.

“All right?” Mel echoed flatly. “Not bloody likely since you and your girlfriend wrecked my office. I’m taking that out of your wages, you know.”

“Yeah, fine,” Julian replied, seeming unconcerned as Mel made her way back to same-said office which still bore the scars of Aisling’s wrath.

Rahul looked daggers into the back of Julian’s head as he bent over the shiny pages of NME. He was letting that… man walk all over him, use him as his little plaything, and he was strolling in here, late beyond belief, casual as you please. Did he even realise the designs that… man had for him? Could he be bothered to care? Or was he just chuffed to bits to have a new, beautiful person interested in him? It had been an awful long time since secondary school, and an awful long time since he was adored by attractive, likeable peers. Not that Michael was likeable. He was only likeable in the way snakes at the zoo were likeable: stunning, fascinating, so long as they remained safely behind glass. Julian’s vanity was sure to be the death of him. He was lucky this Michael character hadn’t already tried something. Lord only knew it was just a matter of time before he made his move. And Rahul wouldn’t be there to protect him this time.

As Julian’s long fingers flipped to a two-page spread featuring the Happy Mondays, Rahul suddenly remembered an album that had just arrived in the shop and began formulating a plan. It wasn’t his best plan, not by far. But it was better than no plan at all and, as his father had always said, better to go in half-cocked than not cocked at all. Whatever that had meant. At least it had a decent chance of succeeding in keeping Julian away from this Michael person for good.

Clearing his throat, he said with extremely natural nonchalance, “You’ll never believe what’s just come in today.”

“Oh, yeah?” Julian replied in the distant tone that suggested he wasn’t really listening.

“Mmm. It’s only ever the new Bryan Ferry.”

Julian’s head shot up. Rahul knew that’d get his attention. “It’s never!”

“It has.”

“Bête Noire?”