Chapter Sixteen Bête Noire #3
Julian’s dark lashes fluttered to reveal a slit of wide-blown pupil within a ring of pale blue.
His lips curled at the corners. He looked as though he were on the verge of saying something, but there was an odd sort of unspoken rule between them during these occasions.
That conversation should be kept to a minimum in order to give the music its full due.
But Rahul was dying to know what he was thinking.
He looked as enigmatic as the Mona Lisa and as chuffed as the Cheshire Cat.
Julian kept looking at him, far past any common decency.
Then again, Rahul wasn’t looking away either.
His gaze kept darting between Julian’s lightly parted lips and his hazy eyes, unable to settle.
An unbidden thought rose to the fore of Rahul’s mind and, once there, he was unable to shake it.
He wondered what Julian’s mouth would taste like.
The thought became all-encompassing and he found even his own mouth watering as his body anticipated the discovery.
He couldn’t. Could he? No. He couldn’t. But could he…
Julian’s lazy gaze drifted down to Rahul’s mouth and lingered there. His smile faltered and disappeared, a light flickering and going out. His open mouth, soft and slack, was like an invitation. But it wasn’t. Rahul was just projecting. Unless it was? But it wasn’t. Unless… No. Unless…
When had the music stopped playing? How long had it been since the needle had found the empty grooves at the end of the record?
How long had he and Julian been staring at each other in silence?
How long had their shoulders been touching?
Why could Rahul feel Julian’s breath lightly against his cheek?
Would Julian pull away if he touched his face, very softly?
With just the tips of his fingers? Like this?
Julian leaned minutely into Rahul’s touch.
He’d done a very good job with his shave.
His jaw was as smooth as anything. It felt so good that Rahul ran his fingers the length of it, right down to his pointed chin.
Julian tilted forwards, as if chasing the touch, eyes closing again so they were just fanned eyelashes against high cheekbones.
Rahul’s heart sped like a juggernaut through his chest. He felt like a man who’d had a hummingbird land on his finger.
He couldn’t move. And yet… If he moved very, very slowly…
If he inched ever so gently forwards and his lips met Julian’s with the barest of touches…
Julian exhaled a drawn-out breath and Rahul felt it against his lips, inside his lungs, in the pit of stomach, in the heat of his groin.
He was so nearly there. If only he just…
But then he hesitated. Did Julian want this?
Did he really want this? Was he just getting carried away by the music and the pot and the beer?
Would he pull back in horror if Rahul tried to kiss him?
Or would he give in and then immediately regret it, the way he had when --
A knock at the door made them both nearly jump out of their skins.
Julian’s eyes flew open and for a split second they stared at each other in surprise, fear…
or was it guilt? It was too fleeting for Rahul to be sure.
Before he knew it, Julian was already well across the room and rounding the corner to the door.
“Sorry I’m a bit early,” came the basso profundo tones of the villainous lech. “I didn’t want us to be late for your little surprise, so I thought we could get a jump on the traffic.”
“No, no, it’s all right,” Julian replied, sounding a bit weedy. “I’m all set, I just need to --”
“See me off,” Rahul supplied, appearing behind Julian like a spectre. He took a bit too much enjoyment from the flash of annoyance that appeared on Michael’s perfect, Hollywood face.
“I’m sorry,” Michael said, suddenly all posh formality. “I didn’t know you had company.”
“Rahul was only just leaving, weren’t you, Rahul? He came round so we could listen to a record -- the new Bryan Ferry, Bête Noire -- it’s genius. I’m ready to go. Honest.”
“You, uh, take care, Jules,” Rahul said, also feeling oddly formal.
He wasn’t used to saying goodbye to his closest friend, and certainly not in public like this.
He gave Julian a rather awkward pat on the back.
“You remember to bring that record back to the shop or Mel will be on you like a bag of cocks. ‘If we want the merchandise, we pay for the merchandise’ --”
“‘-- same as everybody else’.” Julian completed the well-worn Mel catchphrase. “I won’t forget. See you tomorrow.”
“Right.” Rahul pursed his lips in a paper-thin attempt at a smile.
“Michael.” Michael nodded and Rahul squeezed past him and up the stairs.
He walked casually to the end of the block, turned the corner, then stopped, ears perked like a hunting hound.
He’d have plenty of time later to unpack what had just happened between them.
But for now, the real plan was set in motion