There’s Something About Mike

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Mike muses on his pointy brother.

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“What ya got?” Noel asked Julian, sauntering over the table where he was sat with Mike. Noel draped himself over Julian, who in turn glanced at Mike and gave him a look that plainly meant “sorry for your brother throwing himself onto me whilst you’re in the room. I can imagine it’s not attractive.”

Mike rolled his eyes, wondering for the millionth time if Noel could ever do anything normally without it being a massive performance. It seemed that even walking across the room had to somehow be seductively performed. If Mike hadn’t known that Noel was gay, despite the hoards of girls that seemed to flock to him, he would have known for sure then, and not only because of the draping. The fluorescent t-shirt and tight white jeans sort of gave it away as well… the rainbow bandana wasn’t really giving off a vibe of heterosexuality either.

Mike wondered sometimes what the difference between him and Noel was… you know, that One Thing that meant all the girls (and boys for that matter) wanted to make him their significant other, and made them all want to tell Mike to fuck off. Was it Noel’s pointy nose? Pointy chin? Pointy cheekbones? Actually, he considered, everything about Noel was pointy. Pointy, pointy, pointy. Stupid bastard pointy face.

“You’ve got pointy cheekbones too Mike,” Noel had told him once. “Problem is they’re hidden under layers of fat.” Noel had then proceeded to eat an entire pack of chocolate hobnobs without offering Mike a single one, and drank a cup of tea with four sugars in it. “You’ve just not got my stunning metabolism. Mine is like a speedy fast hyena, all roaring and ready to go. Yours is a bit like a retarded elephant; a bit slow on the uptake… and probably covered in its own dung.”

Maybe the lisp didn’t help either, in comparison to Noel’s sharp-as-hell-in-your-face voice. Maybe it was because Mike was so short… then again, Noel wasn’t exactly the Green Giant either, but his skinny arse seemed to carry it off. Mike frowned. Maybe if he dressed how Noel did (“like a twat,” he thought to himself) and lost a few pounds, and went on one of those torture stretch your legs chamber things, maybe people would think he was attractive as well instead of just slagging him off.

When Mike snapped out of his thoughts, Julian had managed to push Noel off of him and sit him down on a chair, though Noel had still insisted on resting his legs on Julian’s thighs. They were completely different sometimes. Julian hated public displays of affection; they ranked up there on the list of things that he hated only just below “having a show go horribly wrong”, meanwhile Noel thought one of the best things in the world was to hold someone’s hand and snog the face off of them in inappropriate places. Mike remembered a story Rich had told him the other day about Noel deciding he wanted to grope Julian in the middle of Leicester Square… is it wrong to think of your own brother as a bit of an attention seeking slag? Well no, not a slag. He’d settled down more than considerably since he decided he was madly in love with Julian and that he had to be with him 24 hours a day… better to see him all over Julian than just all over some different boy/girl hybrid every day that he’d found somewhere the day before.

Come to think of it, Julian had calmed Noel down in tons of ways. He’d started to learn to share his hob-nobs, but sharing Jaffa Cakes was still considered to be well out of order… the raspberry Jaffa Cakes though, he’d give you them for free. Julian had also managed to make Noel stop being so anally retentive about tidiness. Mike winced…”anally retentive” was probably the wrong phrase to use considering. But, the point was that Julian’s slobby ways had managed to rub off on Noel a little bit and now Noel was able to leave a dirty spoon in the sink without thinking of it as the beginning of the apocalypse.

raynor