Raphael /BoyxBoy/

||Twenty||

I shrugged. "Whatever."

"Complicated?" he eyed me carefully.

"You couldn't imagine."

He sighed. "As long as you're finally over him. It's been eating him up ever since he got your email."

I said nothing for a while. "How's Jesse?"

Tom snorted. "An idiot."

I raised my eyebrows. "Share and I'll tell you about Raphael."

Tom smirked. "Deal."

"Where is he now?" I asked, and so Tom ventured off towards an endless tale of how Jesse and his band were spotted by some big shot record label, and they were off in god knows where, signing god knows what.

"I totally support him," he said, "been there for him from the start. It just feels off whenever he calls, and I have no idea where we stand. You know what they say about band members? The tours, the life on the road...Sounded like bull to me at first, but he just doesn't call as often, doesn't pick up whenever I do."

Then he laughed. "Whatever. I don't want to stop him, y'know? From living his life the way he always wanted to. I'm just a guy he sort of had feelings for, and in a few years I'll probably be some ex he only remembers when he's drunk or sleeping with someone else."

I raised my eyebrows. "At least you think he'll still remember you."

"Oh, he will. He's already written songs about me."

I grinned. "You're joking."

He shook his head and lifted a hand. "I swear it. Same song that got him signed."

"No."

"Yes." He laughed again. "It's hard to believe, but wait a few months and you'll probably hear the same song on the radio."

"Isn't that kind of cocky?"

He shrugged, looking away. "You tend to be once you date someone like that. Rubs off on you."

He'd changed, and I could see it despite never getting to know him that much. His usual curled up self had long stretched out, and he sat comfortably in the opposite seat, an arm slung over the back of the other that perched beside him.

Someone called his name and he lazily looked in their direction before getting up. "I'm still waiting to hear about Raphael."

"You'll hear about him another time."

He rolled his eyes again. "I better."

I lingered long after he got back to work, swirling the left over coffee in my mug and watched as it sloshed around from side to side.

"You're still here?" Tom shrugged on his coach. "Come on, follow me."

He led me out into the streets, and we walked silently away from the coffee shop. "Do you need a place to stay?"

I cringed. "Kind of."

"I used to share an apartment with Jesse," he said. "It's pretty empty now he's gone, and I usually crash at Nate's when I don't feel like being there. I think he's starting to get sick of it."

"You mean you think Ian's starting to get sick of it."

He chuckled. "That too."

"Okay, if you don't mind. If Jesse doesn't mind either."

He waved a hand at that. "Don't worry about Jesse."

"Thanks," I said.

He waved me off again. "So Raphael?"