Chapter Six Bizarre Love Triangle #3
When Rahul looked back at Julian he found him pulling a face, tongue stuck out sideways and eyes crossed.
Rahul had to bite back the raucous laugh that rose in his chest. He’d missed this.
He’d missed him. Henri was great and all, but no one could make him laugh like Julian could.
And as wonderful as an intellectual discussion was, sometimes you just needed to let loose.
Michael and Henri kept it up throughout the meal, discussing subjects Rahul and Julian couldn’t even begin to understand.
At one point, Henri had raised the topic of pre-war Russian literature and Rahul’s ears perked, but they quickly barrelled past Tolstoy and he found himself unable to keep up.
He had to admit to himself that his intellectuality was surface level at best, cultivated mostly for the purposes of impressing those around him rather than growing his own acumen.
He turned sullenly back to his plate, full of pasta swimming in a succulent cream sauce which he could hardly appreciate. Under the table, he felt a foot nudge his leg. He looked up to see Julian biting back a smirk.
“What?” Rahul demanded, even as his own face cracked into a smile.
Julian shrugged. “Right boring, innit?”
“It’s cultured conversation,” Rahul said airily, unwilling to admit how pretentious he found it.
Julian rolled his eyes exaggeratedly, going so far as to pitch his head back. Rahul allowed himself to laugh at this. It didn’t seem to matter, anyway, as Henri and Michael’s attentions were entirely absorbed. Self-absorbed, Rahul thought uncharitably.
“If that’s cultured, I’m fine being a caveman, thank you very much,” Julian griped good-naturedly.
“Caveman,” Rahul snorted. “If you were a caveman, you’d have an Archeopteryx’s feathers in your hair and a loincloth made out of glitter leopard print.”
“I’d be so trendy the other cavemen would make me their leader. They’d think I was a prophet.”
“They’d think you were a tropical bird and try to eat you.”
“Better than you. You’d be the only caveman dressed in tweed. You’d do all the other cavemen’s taxes. You’d be so boring they’d kill you and roast you.”
“At least I’d be delicious, sir. Unlike you, with your sinewy muscles. You’d be all gamey. Like a pigeon. They’d toss you out. Clean your meat off and make your bones into flutes.”
“You joking? My bones would make brilliant flutes! They’re already hollow. I’ve got bird’s bones. On windy days, it’s all I can do to keep from blowing away.”
Julian’s grin was dazzling. His eyes crinkled at the corners, his nose scrunched up. He grinned with every muscle in his face. That grin, directed at him, made Rahul’s stomach do flips. It always had. It always would. No matter how hard he tried to fight it.
“You’re thin, that’s why. You’re fit.” Rahul almost immediately regretted it after the words left his mouth.
He’d gone too far. Those weren’t platonic words.
Those were flirty words. He shovelled pasta into his mouth to keep from saying anything further.
Fuck. Why was the pasta here so Goddamned good?
“Nah, I ain’t the one who’s fit. You are.
You’re massive. You could toss me around like a wet flannel.
” Julian said this while biting his lip and looking up at Rahul from under his lashes.
There it was again. Flirty Julian. Rahul hadn’t been imagining it.
Julian was looking him up and down as if he were a toffee apple he was about to sink his teeth into.
He’d never looked at him that way before.
Rahul wasn’t fit, so far as he knew. He was tall, and broad, and had decent abs thanks to the curl-ups he did every morning.
But he was a weakling compared to Michael, whose massive arms alone proved he could give Atlas a run for his money.
Even if it was an empty compliment, the fact that Julian was giving it at all was proof of…
what? What was it proof of? Was he… was Julian flirting with him?
In front of his own boyfriend? Why? He’d made it more than clear that he wasn’t interested in Rahul back when Rahul had confessed his feelings to him. So why? Why now?
Or it was possible Rahul was still somehow misunderstanding.
So he bravely took a swing and hoped it wouldn’t be a miss.
“I could throw you around, if I fancied. But I don’t know if you’d be able to take me.
” He felt hot under the collar as he said it, feeling his ears redden.
He glanced sideways at Henri to make sure he hadn’t heard, but the Frenchman’s attention was entirely occupied comparing Marx’s idealism with Thoreau’s naturalism.
Two high spots of colour rose in Julian’s cheeks, much like they had when they were boys and were about to practice kissing. He didn’t look away, though. “I can take you. If you try hard enough.”
Rahul wasn’t sure what they were talking about anymore, but he was sure that his trousers were becoming uncomfortably tight.
He shifted in his seat and took a desperate gulp of his wine.
This was flirting, he was sure of it. But why it was happening with him now, with Julian, was a mystery to him.
This ride was exhilarating and unpredictable.
He just hoped he could hold on long enough not to fall.