Page 36 of Sunshine Boy

“Yeah -- Kwambe? What the hell are you doing at Mel’s?” It was only after he’d said it aloud that he realised. Kwambe had gotten off with one of the girls from the club. Mel. And that’s why Rahul hadn’t been able to get a hold of her. She’d been “busy.” Busy.

“I, uh, I’ll tell you about it later. What’s going on? Is Julian okay?”

At least he sounded genuinely concerned. “Yeah, he’s all right now. Had a head injury. I’ll tell you about it later.”

“Fair do’s. Anything we can do?”

Oh, so they were a “we” now, were they? “No, I’ve got it under control. Thanks, though. Come over tomorrow with Mel. We can talk then.”

“Yeah, all right. Cheers, Rahul. Take care. Tell Julian I hope he feels better.”

“Will do.”

After hanging up, Rahul stood for a moment with his fingers buried in his hair, thinking. A card. A business card probably. Where would Julian keep a business card? But not just any business card. His (until recently) boyfriend’s business card. Rahul’s mind was coming up blank. He couldn’t picture Julian having something as banal as a business card in his possession. Willy Wonka’s Oompa Loompa flute? Sure. A fertility statue sculpted out of jam? Definitely. But a business card?

At that moment, the comforting white noise of the shower abruptly cut off. Rahul would have to leave his clandestine sleuthing for later.

He came into Julian’s room just as the latter was stepping out of the bathroom in a neon pink bathrobe and a cloud of steam. He looked better, Rahul thought. Some of the colour was back in his cheeks and he’d parted his wet hair on the far side so that a sheet of it fell over the shaven portion, disguising it. Rahul liked him with flat hair, though he was sure Julian wouldn’t approve. When it was wet or he didn’t put any product in it, it fell in an ebony cascade down to his shoulders. It was those moments when Rahul could see how truly long it was.

Julian twirled a damp strand around his finger self-consciously while Rahul watched him.

“Better?” Rahul asked.

“Much,” Julian sighed. Though his colour was back, the dark circles under his eyes remained. “I really needed that. Feel like a new man. A man called Stuart, who’s got a Karmann Ghia and gets to see his kids on weekends with court supervision.”

They both smiled weakly. Rahul didn’t attempt to keep the game going. He didn’t have the energy.

Julian went to his end table and extracted a bottle of paracetamol. He held it for a second, looking lost. “Hey, have you seen the medication the doctor prescribed? I don’t remember --”

“You mean this medication?” Rahul held up the small paper bag Julian had left on his vanity.

“Cheers, Rahul. You’re a diamond.”

After fetching him a glass of water, Julian dutifully took his pills. Sitting down on the edge of his bed, he fidgeted with the frayed hem of his robe.

“Ready for a rest?” Rahul asked him.

He nodded, damp fringe falling into his eyes.

“Something wrong, small fry?”

“Would you… would you stay with me? Until I fall asleep?”

Some of the tension that had been keeping Rahul’s body rigid bled away and fondness took its place. “‘Course I will. I was planning on staying…” He paused. “I was just planning on staying. Full stop.”

Julian nodded again, the hint of a smile at the edge of his upturned lips. “Good.”

Rahul kicked off his shoes and pulled his jumper over his head while Julian let his robe slide off. Purplish bruises stood out starkly on his pale arms and back like burns on a custard. Without thinking, Rahul reached forward to touch the hand-shaped imprint on his upper arm. Julian flinched away before catching himself and stilling, bottom lip white under the sharp bite of his teeth.

“Jules,” Rahul began.

“Leave it, Rahul,” he said, voice barely above a whisper. “Please.”

Rahul nodded and kept quiet as they slipped under the duvet together. He wanted to wrap his arms around Julian and hold him close, but he was no longer sure what he was allowed. He didn’t want to ask Julian and make him uncomfortable, or make him feel like he had to allow something he wasn’t comfortable with to make Rahul happy. So he just lay on his back, practically vibrating with tension and nerves. Julian lay on his side, facing away from him, duvet pulled up high enough to hide the marks on his skin, skin which had been unblemished save for Rahul’s love-bites until recently. Skin Rahul longed to caress and kiss while whispering in Julian’s ear that everything was going to be all right, that he loved him and would protect him and fix everything. He was going to fix it. He had to fix it.

He stared at the back of Julian’s head until his friend’s breath evened out and a light snoring began. Just to make sure, he whispered, “Jules, are you asleep?” When he received no reply, he added for good measure, “Depeche Mode is overrated.”

Nothing. He was well and truly asleep then.