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booshslashhavenTitle: Enigma Variations, 10A/?: I’ll Roll Away Mine (the first part)
Summary: The boys come home from the pub and interrupt something
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: overheard violence
Spoilers: Howard gets the wrong idea
Length: about 1000 words
Disclaimer: I don’t own these characters, I just borrow them to play with now and again (and again and again and again). For twisted love, not for profit
Notes: I’ve split this chapter in half because I’m not happy with the other half yet – it’s got its emotional knickers in a knot and I need to disentangle it and get all the bits into the right order. But while I’m doing that, it seems a shame to deprive you of the on-the-way-home-from-the-pub snuggling that I wrote while avoiding starting on the really truly angst…
Enigma Variations
10A I’ll Roll Away Mine (the first part)
“You’re sure you didn’t want another drink?”
Vince shakes his head as the pub doors creak shut behind them. “Nah, I’m fine, Howard. I’d much rather have an early night.”
Howard laughs, and wraps an arm round Vince’s waist, pulling him closer. “Never thought I’d hear you say that.”
“Never had such a good reason for wanting an early night, did I?” They turn the corner of the street, and Vince stumbles accidentally-on-purpose on his high heels, wanting an excuse to lean on Howard a bit more, to feel that strong arm holding him up, keeping him safe.
“So it’s cocoa and biscuits tonight, is it?” Howard teases, planting an affectionate kiss on the top of Vince’s head. “And then lights out?”
“Well, that sounds tempting, but do you think we might add another item to that list? Say… cocoa and biscuits and a Number Six, and then lights out?”
“Sounds like a plan to me.”
“I do good plans for bedtimes.” Vince squeezes Howard tight. “And anyway, why d’you think I didn’t have any more to drink? Wouldn’t want to let you down.”
“Vince, you never let me down. And your bedtime plans are the best.”
Howard’s voice is warm and happy and only slightly slurred from the beers he’s had. And he sounds as though he really, really means every word.
Vince is beginning to believe that he really, really does.
It’s only been a week or so since Howard shyly asked, with the lights out and his face buried in Vince’s shoulder, whether they could ‘try a Number Six’.
Vince thought his heart would come right out of his chest, it was thumping so hard, but he’d managed to whisper ‘yes’ and they’d not only tried, they’d succeeded – eventually – beyond anything he could have expected or imagined.
They both made an important discovery about Howard that night.
The big man just loves to be fucked.
Perhaps, after letting Vince into his mind, letting him into his body wasn’t such a big deal in the end.
Vince loves watching him while they have sex, the way he sweats and pants and pleads and gazes at Vince’s face as though it’s the only thing he ever wants to see, ever again… the way he unravels completely, not holding anything back, letting Vince see the effect he’s having.
Howard makes Vince feel… special. While totally accepting that he’s just himself, just ordinary. Vince has no idea how Howard is doing that. Nobody else has ever been able to do it. But then, Howard knows him better than anybody else ever has…
“Vince?”
“Mmm?”
Howard chucks him under the chin. “Heyyy, you were miles away there, Little Man. I said, do you think Naboo’s OK?”
Vince sighs. “No, not really. He’s been getting quieter and quieter all week. Like there’s less and less of him. An’ all that stuff Bollo said before he left this morning, about a virus… Bullshit. Naboo never gets sick, he’s magically immune to Earth diseases. He told us that years ago.”
“He did say magic takes it out of him,” Howard says thoughtfully, half to himself.
“When you were… when he gave you the truth potion?”
“Mmm. He also said it was a bad time for him, he seems to hit a low every half-century or so from what I could gather. Dropped some vague hint about someone being unkind to him. But he didn’t really want to talk about it. And I had other things on my mind at the time.”
Vince sneaks a hand down to grope Howard’s arse, warm and inviting and corduroy-covered. “So you did.”
“And remember what Bollo said?”
“When we were sorting the laundry, you mean? About Naboo having a bad feeling?”
Howard nods. “It’s weird. Whether he’s suffering from a bad feeling or a bad curry, he needs Bollo to look after him. So why’s he sent him away?”
They round the corner into their own street. Vince frowns, and tries to think. “He said the Head Shaman needed him, and he couldn’t ignore the request. But was that just more bullshit?”
“Dunno.” Howard rummages in his pocket for his door key. “I mean, it was a plausible story, Dennis is a bit…”
“Hopeless. And that white rabbit of his…Blimey. She makes Bollo look like a top-of-the-range model, and that’s sayin’ something.”
Vince grins. Seeing as Dennis’s familiar is the sweetest, fluffiest, most brainless creature imaginable, it’s not surprising that Bollo’s been called in to help evict a bunch of ten-foot, luminous, illegal aliens from the sacred caves of the Great Tangerine Desert of Xooberon.
Although the timing is suspicious…
“What’s that?” Howard stops in the hallway, and Vince bumps into him.
“What’s what?”
“Listen.”
There is the muffled slam of a door somewhere in the flat upstairs, and sounds of a struggle.
“Burglars?” Vince whispers.
Howard shakes his head. “Don’t think so. Making too much noise.”
They look at each other and say “Naboo,” in the same instant; then they are racing up the stairs, through the lounge, down the passageway.
Naboo’s bedroom door is shut. Howard has raised his hand to knock when they hear a deep, angry voice behind it.
“That sounds bad,” Vince whispers. “What’s goin’ on?”
“Maybe Naboo’s in trouble with the shaman council. Perhaps they found out about the sunglasses.”
“It sounds more serious than that.”
They can’t hear the words, but the threat in them is all too clear, and when Naboo replies he sounds all wobbly and tearful.
Then there is a sharp slap, and a whimper of distress.
Howard is frowning. “We should go in there, he’s not strong enough for this, not at the moment.”
But there is something in the tone of the voices behind that door…
“Leave them to it,” Vince says. “We’ll only make it worse if we interfere, it’s just a domestic, none of our business.”
“A domestic?” Howard’s face contorts with shock and disbelief. “You mean those two are a…”
“A couple, yeah.” Vince is certain of it; as a child, he had to sit through too many evenings of his parents’ battles to be mistaken now. “Like you an’ me. ’Cept we don’t get off on arguments an’ hittin’ each other. But some people do… an’ they’re from another planet, for all we know we’re just hearin’ the alien equivalent of buyin’ each other flowers or somethin’. C’mon Howard, trust me on this one, OK? Nothin’ we can do.”
He takes Howard’s arm to lead him back to the kitchen; there is another cry of pain from behind the door.
Howard drags himself free, his face set and resolute. “I’m going in there.”
“Howard, read my lips, alien domestic,” Vince says desperately, “alien shaman domestic, not our business, bad idea, Howard…”
But Naboo cries out a third time, and Howard flings himself at the door.
It’s not locked, so he falls straight through it and lands in a heap on the rug.
“Oh look, your knight in shining armour is here to rescue you,” a deep voice sneers.
Summary: The boys come home from the pub and interrupt something
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: overheard violence
Spoilers: Howard gets the wrong idea
Length: about 1000 words
Disclaimer: I don’t own these characters, I just borrow them to play with now and again (and again and again and again). For twisted love, not for profit
Notes: I’ve split this chapter in half because I’m not happy with the other half yet – it’s got its emotional knickers in a knot and I need to disentangle it and get all the bits into the right order. But while I’m doing that, it seems a shame to deprive you of the on-the-way-home-from-the-pub snuggling that I wrote while avoiding starting on the really truly angst…
Enigma Variations
10A I’ll Roll Away Mine (the first part)
“You’re sure you didn’t want another drink?”
Vince shakes his head as the pub doors creak shut behind them. “Nah, I’m fine, Howard. I’d much rather have an early night.”
Howard laughs, and wraps an arm round Vince’s waist, pulling him closer. “Never thought I’d hear you say that.”
“Never had such a good reason for wanting an early night, did I?” They turn the corner of the street, and Vince stumbles accidentally-on-purpose on his high heels, wanting an excuse to lean on Howard a bit more, to feel that strong arm holding him up, keeping him safe.
“So it’s cocoa and biscuits tonight, is it?” Howard teases, planting an affectionate kiss on the top of Vince’s head. “And then lights out?”
“Well, that sounds tempting, but do you think we might add another item to that list? Say… cocoa and biscuits and a Number Six, and then lights out?”
“Sounds like a plan to me.”
“I do good plans for bedtimes.” Vince squeezes Howard tight. “And anyway, why d’you think I didn’t have any more to drink? Wouldn’t want to let you down.”
“Vince, you never let me down. And your bedtime plans are the best.”
Howard’s voice is warm and happy and only slightly slurred from the beers he’s had. And he sounds as though he really, really means every word.
Vince is beginning to believe that he really, really does.
It’s only been a week or so since Howard shyly asked, with the lights out and his face buried in Vince’s shoulder, whether they could ‘try a Number Six’.
Vince thought his heart would come right out of his chest, it was thumping so hard, but he’d managed to whisper ‘yes’ and they’d not only tried, they’d succeeded – eventually – beyond anything he could have expected or imagined.
They both made an important discovery about Howard that night.
The big man just loves to be fucked.
Perhaps, after letting Vince into his mind, letting him into his body wasn’t such a big deal in the end.
Vince loves watching him while they have sex, the way he sweats and pants and pleads and gazes at Vince’s face as though it’s the only thing he ever wants to see, ever again… the way he unravels completely, not holding anything back, letting Vince see the effect he’s having.
Howard makes Vince feel… special. While totally accepting that he’s just himself, just ordinary. Vince has no idea how Howard is doing that. Nobody else has ever been able to do it. But then, Howard knows him better than anybody else ever has…
“Vince?”
“Mmm?”
Howard chucks him under the chin. “Heyyy, you were miles away there, Little Man. I said, do you think Naboo’s OK?”
Vince sighs. “No, not really. He’s been getting quieter and quieter all week. Like there’s less and less of him. An’ all that stuff Bollo said before he left this morning, about a virus… Bullshit. Naboo never gets sick, he’s magically immune to Earth diseases. He told us that years ago.”
“He did say magic takes it out of him,” Howard says thoughtfully, half to himself.
“When you were… when he gave you the truth potion?”
“Mmm. He also said it was a bad time for him, he seems to hit a low every half-century or so from what I could gather. Dropped some vague hint about someone being unkind to him. But he didn’t really want to talk about it. And I had other things on my mind at the time.”
Vince sneaks a hand down to grope Howard’s arse, warm and inviting and corduroy-covered. “So you did.”
“And remember what Bollo said?”
“When we were sorting the laundry, you mean? About Naboo having a bad feeling?”
Howard nods. “It’s weird. Whether he’s suffering from a bad feeling or a bad curry, he needs Bollo to look after him. So why’s he sent him away?”
They round the corner into their own street. Vince frowns, and tries to think. “He said the Head Shaman needed him, and he couldn’t ignore the request. But was that just more bullshit?”
“Dunno.” Howard rummages in his pocket for his door key. “I mean, it was a plausible story, Dennis is a bit…”
“Hopeless. And that white rabbit of his…Blimey. She makes Bollo look like a top-of-the-range model, and that’s sayin’ something.”
Vince grins. Seeing as Dennis’s familiar is the sweetest, fluffiest, most brainless creature imaginable, it’s not surprising that Bollo’s been called in to help evict a bunch of ten-foot, luminous, illegal aliens from the sacred caves of the Great Tangerine Desert of Xooberon.
Although the timing is suspicious…
“What’s that?” Howard stops in the hallway, and Vince bumps into him.
“What’s what?”
“Listen.”
There is the muffled slam of a door somewhere in the flat upstairs, and sounds of a struggle.
“Burglars?” Vince whispers.
Howard shakes his head. “Don’t think so. Making too much noise.”
They look at each other and say “Naboo,” in the same instant; then they are racing up the stairs, through the lounge, down the passageway.
Naboo’s bedroom door is shut. Howard has raised his hand to knock when they hear a deep, angry voice behind it.
“That sounds bad,” Vince whispers. “What’s goin’ on?”
“Maybe Naboo’s in trouble with the shaman council. Perhaps they found out about the sunglasses.”
“It sounds more serious than that.”
They can’t hear the words, but the threat in them is all too clear, and when Naboo replies he sounds all wobbly and tearful.
Then there is a sharp slap, and a whimper of distress.
Howard is frowning. “We should go in there, he’s not strong enough for this, not at the moment.”
But there is something in the tone of the voices behind that door…
“Leave them to it,” Vince says. “We’ll only make it worse if we interfere, it’s just a domestic, none of our business.”
“A domestic?” Howard’s face contorts with shock and disbelief. “You mean those two are a…”
“A couple, yeah.” Vince is certain of it; as a child, he had to sit through too many evenings of his parents’ battles to be mistaken now. “Like you an’ me. ’Cept we don’t get off on arguments an’ hittin’ each other. But some people do… an’ they’re from another planet, for all we know we’re just hearin’ the alien equivalent of buyin’ each other flowers or somethin’. C’mon Howard, trust me on this one, OK? Nothin’ we can do.”
He takes Howard’s arm to lead him back to the kitchen; there is another cry of pain from behind the door.
Howard drags himself free, his face set and resolute. “I’m going in there.”
“Howard, read my lips, alien domestic,” Vince says desperately, “alien shaman domestic, not our business, bad idea, Howard…”
But Naboo cries out a third time, and Howard flings himself at the door.
It’s not locked, so he falls straight through it and lands in a heap on the rug.
“Oh look, your knight in shining armour is here to rescue you,” a deep voice sneers.
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no subject
Date: 2012-04-26 10:46 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2012-04-27 07:43 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2012-04-29 04:40 am (UTC)aw naboo..things don't sound good!
no subject
Date: 2012-04-29 10:22 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2012-05-04 03:21 pm (UTC)Um, and I love other things you revealed about Howard! So sweet and hot, just like the boys themselves.
no subject
Date: 2012-05-04 04:32 pm (UTC)