Page 23 of Sunshine Boy

Rahul placed the case of lager on the table and sat on the sofa with some trepidation. After Julian set the food down by the beer and plopped down beside Rahul, they sat in silence for several excruciating seconds. Rahul finally cleared his throat and asked as casually as he could manage, “So, The Cure, eh?”

“Right!” Julian shot up as if goosed. He stole over to the telly and retrieved an album from beneath it. Pulling out the liquorice-black record, he set it on the nearby turntable with uncharacteristic gentleness.

He managed to throw himself back down on the sofa before the first heavily distorted guitar strains began playing. Like most things that Julian liked, Rahul liked The Cure just fine but wasn’t a true fan. He could appreciate their talent but wouldn’t necessarily listen to them on his own. As Julian set his head back against the sofa cushions and let his eyes slide shut, Rahul realised he’d never be able to experience this sort of music in the same way as his friend, and that was fine. Experiencing it vicariously through Julian was enough.

Right after the first song ended, Julian snapped his fingers and extended his hand, waiting. It took a second for Rahul’s sluggish mind to realize what he meant, but then he hastily produced a spliff from his cigarette pack. They smoked as dreamy refrains filled the air, the late winter sun already failing outside the narrow window and leaving them within the comforting golden glow of the dingy lamp on the amplifier beside them.

As the pot and the beer suffused Rahul’s system, he let go of his musical prejudices and let himself be carried away on the strains of music, leaving behind any preconceptions of what this night might mean. He let himself forget about Julian. He let himself forget about Henri. He was a receptacle for the music that streamed at him, through him. The drums crashed against him like waves, the bass burst like bubbles, the vocals were typewriter ribbons that flew at him faster than he could decipher. He dipped pita bread in hummus and forgot everything but the music, the taste of chickpeas and lager, the pungent aroma of pot.

The spliff was gone, half the case of beer drunk, and nearly the entire record played through when Rahul became aware of pins and needles in his legs. He tried to move them to a more comfortable position, but there seemed to be a heavy weight on his thighs that prevented him from moving. He opened his eyes for the first time in what felt like hours (knowing The Cure, it might well have been) and was momentarily blinded by the naked bulb that hung overhead. When his eyes adjusted, he found that the weight on his thighs was none other than Julian, his head and shoulders resting comfortably in Rahul’s lap, looking for all the world as though he were fast asleep.

Rahul had no idea how long he’d been there. It didn’t matter much, really. Nothing mattered very much when the room was warm and close with smoke, his insides fuzzy, muscles loose and relaxed -- save for his pin-prickled legs. Thinking Julian oblivious, he indulged himself and drank his fill of him. It was hard to get a good look at Jules, a real good look, when he was awake. If he stared for too long, his friend would call him on it. He could only get away with fleeting glimpses or the kind of neutral gaze one is allowed during conversation. It was rare moments like these that were so precious to Rahul, moments where he could study Julian’s features uninterrupted, committing them to memory for all the moments when he’d be alone, at night, with the gnawing need for Julian sharp in his gut.

As his gaze slid down the bridgeless nose, caressed angular cheekbones, rested on the just barely parted pale lips, he became aware of the steady drum of rain outside. It lent their little oasis here even more of a private, secluded air. They were a warm pocket, a protected island in the treacherous black sea. Here they were safe. Here with each other. Carried away on this fancy, Rahul forgot himself and, wondering if Julian’s freshly shaved jaw felt as smooth as it looked, ran two fingers down the sleeping man’s cheek.

In an instant, the long dark lashes fluttered and revealed huge blue eyes, sharp and lucid. He couldn’t have looked away from them even if he’d tried. Somewhere far away, his heart began to throb, but its pounding was as distant as the rain. A part of his brain that had been muffled by layers of intoxication tried to remind him of something -- a promise he’d made to himself, a commitment to someone else. But that little voice was easy to ignore and even easier to forget. Especially when the most stunning creature in all of the universe was in front of him, long black hair fanned out around him like the negative of a halo. And Rahul’s fingers were fascinated by the smoothness beneath them. He let himself fall into them, become one with the calloused pads of his fingertips as they coursed down the acute angle of the jaw. As they ghosted across the achingly soft lips. As a pink, velvety tongue strove out and wetted them. As they disappeared into that mouth, so hot it was feverish.

Julian’s eyes fluttered closed again as he sucked on Rahul’s fingers. In a unique reversal from how these things usually went, Rahul’s head cleared slightly as all of his blood drained southward, taking with it some of the mind-altering substances. All of a sudden he was aware of his heart beating out of his chest, of the hardness in his trousers, so hard that there was no way in hell Julian wasn’t feeling it nudging him in the back of the neck. Aware of the slick heat of Julian’s mouth as he sucked. What the fuck was he doing? What they fuck were either of them doing?!

He extracted his fingers slowly from between Julian’s lips, leaving behind a trail of saliva that ought to have been disgusting but only seemed to arouse Rahul all the more. Feeling the loss, Julian opened his eyes again, though they were heavy-lidded now, the pupils blown wide and dark.

“Rahul,” Julian said. No, he moaned. God, he’d actually moaned Rahul’s name, spit on his lips, head in Rahul’s lap. Rahul couldn’t handle this. He was powerless to stop this. You can’t dangle freedom in front of a man who’s been imprisoned all his life and not expect him to leap at the chance. He couldn’t even hear the music for the roar of blood pounding in his ears. His vision was even clouding slightly. He couldn’t be sure if it was nearly a decade’s worth of repressed arousal drowning him or if he was actually just quite close to passing out. He didn’t care. He cupped Julian’s cheek in his hand, watched his friend nuzzle into it like a stroked cat, and he leaned down and…

And he stopped.

He wasn’t going to do this again. When Julian was drunk and feeling like he was losing Rahul -- to school, to another man, to whatever -- he would come onto Rahul, then deny everything in the morning, souring their friendship and breaking Rahul’s heart. He’d fallen for it once, when he was young and naive enough to believe that some fumbling in the dark actually meant Julian reciprocated his feelings. He was seven years older now. A man. He understood the ways of the world and, most importantly, he understood Julian. He wasn’t going down this road again, not when it was well-lit and lined with warning signs.

If Julian wanted this, he’d have to take it for himself.

He straightened and let go. Julian’s sharp brows kneaded in momentary confusion. Then he wetted his lips with his tongue and sat up. Disappointment had only a moment to begin blossoming in Rahul’s breast before his mouth was savagely captured in a kiss.

It took him a while to understand what was going on. By then, Julian had already pushed his tongue roughly into Rahul’s opened mouth. He kissed Rahul like a drowning man gasping for air. He kissed him as if there were a time limit. He kissed with feral desperation. Rahul awoke from his stupor with a start and flung his arms around his childhood friend, crushing him to his chest, kissing him back with just as much pent-up desperation, matching him every step of the way in fever-pitch.

Julian climbed onto him, straddled him, sat on his lap in the place his head had been just moments before. Rahul hugged him closer, tighter, as if he could somehow meld their bodies together, make Julian one with him so he might never lose him again. Julian’s mouth was heaven. It was just like he remembered, though he used it with slightly more skill now than when he’d been a teenager. His tongue wrestled Rahul’s for dominance and won. Every motion of that deft tongue sent shivers coursing up and down Rahul’s spine. He was certain Julian could feel him trembling but he couldn’t give a toss. This was Julian. Julian. God. His Julian.

His Julian. Shit. Julian who was probably pissed off his gourd and not in control of his actions. So what if he’d initiated it if he was only going to claim alcohol-based indiscretion in the morning? This had to happen the right way or it wasn’t going to happen at all.

With a great, great deal of effort, Rahul broke the kiss. Deprived of his mouth, Julian attached himself to Rahul’s neck, suckling and nibbling and fuck. He’d had no idea Julian could do that… No. No, no, no. He’d had a purpose. What was it again?

He took Julian’s shoulders in both hands and pried him off. Julian had the dazed look of a dog who’s had a bone suddenly wrested from its jaws. His carefully coiffed hair was already sensuously mussed, fringe falling into his half-lidded, dilated eyes. Rahul very nearly tossed out what little pride he had left to dive right back in and kiss that sinfully red mouth silly. But he was pleasantly surprised by the strength of his convictions.

“Are you --” he began, voice distractingly husky. He cleared his throat before continuing. “Are you gonna do that thing again? The one where you regret it in the morning because you were wasted?”

“I’m not that wasted,” Julian laughed, trying to go back in, but Rahul kept him at bay.

“I mean it, Jules. I’m not going through this again with you. Are you too drunk to make this decision?”

Julian sat back on Rahul’s thighs, looking a little more serious. “I’m not. And I’m not going to regret it in the morning. Unless…” He caught his kiss-swollen lip between his teeth, worrying it as he dropped his gaze. “Unless you are. Which… I mean, is fine. We don’t have to. You’ve got a partner now and all. And I was a right twat to you before. I wouldn’t blame you if --”

Rahul shut him up by cradling his face between two large hands. Julian looked at him with wide, vulnerable eyes. “I’d never regret being with you,” Rahul told him, infusing every ounce of meaning he could into those few words and hoping Julian could hear it. “Never.”

He wasn’t sure if Julian felt all of his meaning, if he sensed the unspoken “I love you” underneath Rahul’s words, but he closed the scant distance between them and kissed Rahul with so much feeling that Rahul thought he must have done. No one could kiss with that much… everything and not know that he loved him.

I love you, Rahul reiterated in his thoughts as he ran his fingers through Julian’s silken hair, so much longer than it used to be. I love you, he thought as Julian’s tongue plundered his mouth, licked his teeth, took from him everything it wanted. I love you, he thought as Julian’s fingers carded through his short hair, his lips traced their way back to Rahul’s neck, his teeth sunk into his sensitive flesh and Rahul cried out.

Julian’s hips strove forward, pushing his hardness against Rahul’s stomach. He moaned into Rahul’s neck, the vibration going through him all the way to his own erection that strained against the inseam of his trousers, just barely grazed by Julian’s arse. His hands quested beneath Julian’s top, craving the feel of his soft, warm flesh. Rahul could hear his own panting breaths in the quiet of the room, the record spinning impotently in its inner grooves. Julian made a frustrated little whimper as Rahul dragged his blunt nails down his back. He needed more. They both did.

Without warning, Rahul flipped them and threw Julian down on the couch. He didn’t wait before recapturing his mouth just as his hips bore down into Julian’s, their restrained cocks coming into brusque contact. Julian gave a breathy cry into Rahul’s mouth. Rahul drank it up, let it fuel him as he rutted against him, Julian’s legs encircling his waist and bringing him closer, closer, closer… It wasn’t close enough. It would never be close enough. Not where Julian was concerned. Rahul needed Julian like he needed air, like he needed water, like he needed release. He was his missing rib, the puzzle piece which perfectly fit the hole within him. He could never be as close to Julian as he needed until they were the same person. Until then, there was just one other way to join with him.