Julian sighed a long-suffering sigh, but secretly, he was thrilled at how quickly Isaac had agreed to take him home. Not because he minded taking the bus, but because it was nice to know that Isaac was choosing to spend time with him.
“Fine,” he said, watching Isaac plate up dinner.
This was nice. So comfortable, so utterlydomestic. Like old times.
Or like Julian had wished for so many times growing up. Being with Isaac and coming back here to visit frequently. It was so close to his teenage fantasies of what his life might turn out like that his heart ached.
“This both looks and smells amazing,” Julian said as Isaac put a plate down in front of him.
The tips of Isaac’s ears practically glowed with a blush.
He settled at the table across from Julian, since his mother had taken the seat beside him and was busy pouring wine.
Julian picked up his knife and fork eagerly, the smell of the meal in front of him making his mouth water. Someone was going to be extremely lucky to have Isaac one day.
“So how’s training coming along? You gonna sweep this tournament?”
Isaac snorted, pausing to swallow his current mouthful. The steaks were fall-apart tender, but not at all dry.
“Maybe,” he said. “We’ll see. I’ve gotten kinda out of shape, and I know it’ll all come back, but the first couple of days…”
“Your shoulder hurts,” Julian said. He’d just realized that Isaac was holding himself stiffly, unnaturally.
“Little,” Isaac said. “It’s just because I’m rebuilding the muscles there. I’ll be okay.”
“Are you sure you don’t need to go to the doctor? You can’t afford to have that injury heal badly,” his mom said, concern written all over her face when Julian glanced over at her.
Maybe he shouldn’t have asked about Isaac’s training.
“If this is as bad as it’s gonna be, I’m fine,” Isaac insisted. “Injuries happen and you’re never entirely the same again. It’s okay. Honestly.”
“I remember watching it happen,” Julian said softly. “It made me nauseous just seeing how pale you went.”
Isaac looked up at him, something strange in his eyes. “You were watching me play?” he asked.
Julian nodded. “Of course. I watch all the games you play that get broadcast. Not always live, but I always watch.”
Isaac frowned at him. “But you hate watching sport,” he said.
A tight bubble formed just above Julian’s stomach, tension he couldn’t quite name, but that fell somewhere between sympathy and the pure, sweet love he’d had for Isaac since the day they met.
“You’re my best friend,” he said softly. “OfcourseI watch your games. I care about what you’re doing with your life.”
It would have been dangerously easy to tackI love youonto the end of that, but Julian knew better than to say that right now. When they were younger, it was fine. They said it all the time, because it was platonic love, the love two inseparable boys had for each other.
Right now, though, they were in murkier waters, more complicated times. Julian couldn’t afford to make things worse. To risk making Isaac uncomfortable.
“That’s sweet,” Mrs. Hudson said, enthusiasm making her tone lift.
“Yeah.” Isaac swallowed, then wet his lips. He looked as though he was struggling to find the words he wanted to say, and Julian could see the moment he gave up in his eyes. “Yeah, it is.”
That was more than enough.
“I’m very sweet,” he said, grinning, trying to break the tension that had formed between them.
It worked, obviously, since Isaac rolled his eyes the next second. “Who’s vain now?”
“You are,” his mother said. It was the kind of good-natured, gentle teasing that families who loved each other, and knew it, could get away with. The same as between him and Isaac.
“See, this is how we know who the favorite kid is,” Isaac said, smiling at Julian. “She likes you better than me.”
“I love you equally,” his mom responded, her voice still kind, but firm. “I just think Julian’s right.”
Isaac sighed, seeing he was defeated, and focused on eating his steak.
Julian grinned in triumph, his heart soaring at how happy he was with two of the most important people in his life around him. It was a shame this couldn’t last.
