Chapter Twenty Bigmouth Strikes Again #2
Instead, Julian’s already pallid complexion blanched further. His enormous eyes were particularly shiny. “He promised he’d never tell,” was what he said, in a voice so hushed as to be a whisper. Or a prayer.
Michael hadn’t realised he’d kicked the end table across the room until it hit the wall and splintered. Julian cowered like a dog about to be struck, shoulders hunched and ready for a blow.
Michael forced himself to relax his fingers out of the painful fists he’d balled them into.
He breathed deeply through his nose, in and out -- a hot, noisy sound in the silence that followed the explosion of the end table.
He wasn’t going to hurt Julian. What would that accomplish? He just had to take a moment and think.
What was it he really wanted? To have Julian.
What -- or who -- was getting in the way of that?
Rahul. He and Julian weren’t just pathetically codependent friends, they’d been lovers.
What did it mean that Julian had kept it secret and, from what he’d said, had intended to continue keeping it secret?
There were feelings there that ran deeper than anything he’d suspected.
He’d thought that Rahul was putting himself in the middle of his and Julian’s relationship, but it seemed that Michael was the one who had stumbled into a complex situation already in progress.
He was… dear God, he was the third wheel.
He felt his pulse even out and a cool clarity wash over him as the outlines of a plan came to him. It wouldn’t be easy, for any of them, but they would all feel so much better once it was over and Julian was where he belonged. With whom he belonged.
Julian saw him calm and seized the opportunity, desperate and ingratiating.
“It was nothing, Michael. Honest. It happened ages ago. I’d really forgotten all about it.
It didn’t mean anything. I can’t believe he even brought it up.
It was really years and years ago. I haven’t even thought about it since then.
You believe me, don’t you? Or else I’d have said something. You know I would have. Michael, I --”
He cut off abruptly as Michael took his face tenderly in both hands.
He looked at Michael with big, pleading eyes.
There was a part of Michael that felt quite satisfied seeing him beg for his forgiveness and be genuinely frightened at the idea of losing him.
It meant that Michael’s plan had a real shot at succeeding.
“It’s all right, love. I’m not angry,” Michael said, keeping his voice as soft and understanding as a priest in confessional.
“It’s not your fault. Whatever it is that’s going on between you and Rahul, it’s more than I signed up for.
That’s on me. I expected to come into this without having to fight for my position in your life. ”
Julian’s chin dimpled with a quiver. “What are you saying? Are you breaking up with me?”
“I’m saying that you clearly have a great deal to sort out with Rahul before you’re in any position to be in an adult relationship.”
“You’re breaking up with me.”
“I care about you, Julian. So terribly much. I think I could more than care about you. I think I could love you. But you’re not there yet.
” He kissed his forehead just as a single tear broke free and slid down Julian’s cheek.
He could feel Julian trembling in his hands.
“When you’ve sorted out whatever it is that’s going on between you two, call me.
I’ll be waiting for you. Until then, I don’t think we should continue to see each other. ”
* * *
Mel worried the edge of a vinyl sticker on the glass counter with her thumbnail.
It was another dismally dull day at the shop.
Rahul had come back from lunch jumpy, which wasn’t unusual in itself.
He was a spazzy bloke at the best of times.
Julian hadn’t come back from lunch at all.
That wasn’t anything out of the ordinary either.
He took advantage of the fact that it was his sister that employed him.
She wasn’t about to cast him out on the street for turning up late or bunking off after lunch some days -- she knew very well that he wouldn’t be able to hold down a regular job anywhere else, and sacking him would only condemn him to destitution.
But Christ if it wasn’t annoying as hell.
Especially when she had to mind the counter in his place instead of getting high in her office.
She had a routine to stick to, after all.
Mel was entirely prepared for this to be another boring afternoon of cursing her brother under her breath and dealing with customers whose description of the records they were looking for consisted of “that one with the song about the thing.” That plan was, however, thrown out the proverbial window when the shop door banged open, sending the bell above it into hysterics.
Julian burst into the shop like hellfire, eyes and cheeks burning red.
At Mel’s side, Rahul stood so quickly that he sent his stool toppling over with a clatter. His tanned skin drained of colour as he laid eyes on Julian. He held his hands up in front of himself, either as a placating gesture or a means of defence. “Jules, I-I-I’m sorry -- I didn’t mean --”