Page 32 of Electric Boy

* * *

From several tables away, Rahul watched helplessly as Julian was lured in by the siren song of abs in the inadvertent wet T-shirt contest Rahul had created. He let his head thunk down on the table, much to the alarm of nearby diners.

* * *

The final leg of their epic date night was a gay club in Kentish Town. Julian had mentioned once in passing that he’d never been to one but had always been interested. Well, tonight was the night.

Michael didn’t often frequent such establishments. He was retiring by nature and tended to keep himself to himself, but if he was desperate for a shag he might find himself here, picking a ready young twink out of the crowd for a quick lay before coming to his senses and sending the sweet young thing on his way. But Julian enjoyed pageantry, and there was no shortage of pageantry at the Come and Go. Not only pageantry but dancing. Michael could endure just about anything if it meant he could dance, chest to chest, sweat to sweat, hard body against hard body, with Julian.

The music was deafening, the lights dizzying, and the boy’s body was hot against his. After only a few songs, his hair was flat and his fringe plastered to his forehead. Michael could feel every ridge of his bones, every hard contour of muscle against him as Julian thrust and ground to the tempo of the beat. His nose bumped Michael’s cheek, his breath cool on Michael’s neck in the heat of the packed dance floor. Michael’s hands travelled of their own accord from Julian’s angular shoulder blades down to the bony juts of his hips, bringing him ever closer, hoping to somehow find a way to meld their bodies together. When Julian pulled back, his eyes were heavy-lidded, mouth open invitingly.

He’d sworn to Julian he would go slow, do it the right way, do it the way Julian deserved. That was to protect Michael as much as it was to protect Julian. Letting go fully would not only hurt Julian but push him away, out of Michael’s life, something he could not endure. But Christ help him, when Julian looked at him that way, when Julian’s hand sneaked under his shirt to paw at the sweat-slicked skin of his back… When Julian leaned in and kissed his neck, using just the faintest hint of teeth, his breath coming in quick and shallow…

Michael’s hands and mouth and lips and teeth were on him before his mind could even catch up. Julian’s floral cologne and cigarette scent suffused Michael’s senses. The feel of his silken top was like liquid, slipping between Michael’s feverish fingers. He felt high. Every sense overloaded. The club’s cheap beer was on Julian’s tongue as it plumbed the depths of Michael’s mouth as thoroughly as Michael delved into his. The music overpowered every sound, but Michael could still feel the moan in Julian’s mouth.

Months of fantasies felt as though they had all been leading up to this single moment. Every frustration, every tight trouser and every aching, lonely night spent dreaming of Julian beneath him, had all been building up to this. And Michael was powerless to stop it. His logical mind was being held captive as his desires took complete control of his body.

He hadn’t realised he’d backed Julian up against a wall in a dark corner of the club until he felt the impact rattle his own bones. They’d gained enough distance from the music for Michael to be able to hear the near-pornographic groan that escaped Julian. God above, he wanted him. And he’d wanted him for so long. And finally, Julian wanted him back. How was he supposed to resist? How was he supposed to keep himself from hoisting Julian up by his slender waist and devouring his pale throat? Jesus, when Julian’s long legs went around his hips and pulled him in so he could feel the hard length of him pressing against his own aching cock, he thought he might black out altogether.

Instead, he made an unintelligible noise and thrust his hips harshly into the boy’s. Christ, he felt good. All sweaty and hard, while the skin under his silk top was soft and smooth and fucking perfect. He bit down hard on Julian’s neck to keep from making an entirely embarrassing sound and felt Julian’s body seize up beneath him, raking fingernails pulling him closer, undulating hips beckoning him on. He was vaguely aware of the club continuing on around them, but he couldn’t be arsed. He was a hair’s breadth away from fucking Julian right then and there, consequences be damned. If Julian kept this up, he just might.

And then Julian said, “Rahul?”

* * *

Rahul followed the pair to what he hoped was their final destination of the night. He didn’t have it in him to follow them to yet another location after this, so if they planned a midnight sightseeing tour, they were on their own. He was slightly dismayed to see that they had made their way to a gay club. There was a small chance yet that Julian had been oblivious as to Michael’s motives and inclinations, but they were growing fainter by the second. They’d locked lips in a cinema, groped in a restaurant, and had now made their way to an establishment of the homosexual variety. Julian might be able to navigate the premises with an innocent lens for a time, but after a while even he would have to acknowledge the blokes grinding suggestively against one another on the dance floor.

Rahul situated himself on the outskirts of the dance floor at a high table with a fruity cocktail, drinking resentfully around the colourful umbrella. He was seeing fewer and fewer scenarios where this night ended in victory for him. There was a possibility, however remote, that he had pegged Julian and Michael’s relationship wrongly, and that his mate of fifteen years wasn’t as innocent as he’d once suspected. He was very near packing it in, in fact, when he briefly lost sight of the dancing pair.

He abandoned his drink and circumnavigated the neon-lit dance floor, searching for them over the heads of clubgoers. When he finally clocked them across the floor in a dark corner, he wasn’t too proud to admit that he was absolutely gutted.

Julian was hoisted up against the wall, legs wrapped quite willingly around Michael’s waist while the latter gnawed hungrily at his neck. Julian cradled his head, his own thrown back in ecstasy, mouth hanging open. Rahul had never seen him like this. He had to swallow heavily, even as his stomach sank to the floor. He was Goddamned beautiful, Julian was. He looked the way Rahul had always dreamed he would, all lost and unpretentious. Entirely himself. Entirely gorgeous. It added an extra layer of hurt to Rahul’s already aching heart that he should see Julian like this with another man.

There had been some small comfort in the fact that Julian hadn’t been interested in men. At least Rahul would get to be the most important man in Julian’s life. There had been that at least. But now? Fuck. He couldn’t even be that.

It was at that moment that Rahul realised what he was. He was a pathetic man who was stalking his best mate, the boy he’d been gone on since he was fourteen years old. He was a loser who was watching his crush get off with a bloke in the middle of a gay club. Disgusted with himself, he began to turn away, intending to leave altogether and never insert himself in his best mate’s love life ever again.

Julian’s eyes suddenly opened and found him, of all people, across the club. Locking eyes had never before caused Rahul’s heart to explode in his chest the way it did just then. He saw Julian mouth his name moments before Rahul’s fight or flight instinct kicked in and he legged it.

He practically ran for the door. He felt the bitter cold hit his cheeks as he burst onto the street but not even that could cool the blistering fever in his face. Shame, embarrassment, that particular brand of gut-wrenching horror at being caught doing something very wrong. Rahul wanted the pavement to open up and swallow him whole. Especially when he heard --

“Rahul!”

The voice was like a lead. He reached the end of it and stalled, unable to move forwards.

“Rahul!”

He turned, powerless against the pull of that voice.

Julian was stood there, arms hugged around himself to ward off the chill. The naked betrayal in his face was enough to send Rahul’s already low self-esteem straight into the gutter.

“What the hell are you doing here?” Julian asked. “You following me?”

“No, no, I…” Rahul began lamely. “I, uh, I come here all the time. Yeah. I just popped it for a night cap.”

A few paces behind Julian, Michael appeared carrying Julian’s coat. The look that Michael gave Julian was one of concern. A genuine look of concern. He did care about Julian. Bollocks. Rahul had been wrong. And now he’d been found out. What a bloody shambles.

“Piss off,” Julian countered. “What are you really doing here?”