![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
ideserveyou.livejournal.com posting in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png){kind=small}
booshslashhavenTitle: Enigma Variations, 32/?: time is an illusion; lunchtime doubly so
Summary: Mending is definitely happening
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: we’re not done with the tentacles yet, and some of them did some pretty unpleasant things
Spoilers: Everybody ends up smiling
Length: about 2230 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: this is a happy ending. But it isn’t THE happy ending, not yet. There is a whole lot more smut and a tiny bit more plot to come, but I’m afraid you’ll have to wait a week or two for those…
Enigma Variations
32 time is an illusion; lunchtime doubly so
saboo comes back into the bedroom, walking like a man in a dream
bollo takes one look at his face and grunts - bollo going shopping for lunch now
you sit up in the bed - what is it? did something happen to vince?
- why didn’t you tell me?
ah, so vince has found his voice at last
you look at the floor - couldn’t
- vince said you wouldn’t remember
- suppressed it - you mutter
not well enough though, you remember everything: falling, hitting the surface, the shock of cold and the awful realisation of burning, burning all over
and those things…
their shrill, harsh voices laughing at your screams as they stabbed the life support tube into your arm
their wiry tentacles forcing you under, hanging the weights from your limbs with cruel precision to make you neutrally buoyant
their threefold eyes watching you writhe and suffer, watching the damage they’d inflicted, every stripe and scar and crater kept open by the acid fluid in which they’d suspended you
and their - no no no can’t think about that, don’t want to remember, don’t want to -
- steady on, little one, I’m here now, nobody’s going to make you do anything…
he sits down on the bed, careful to leave a space
you reach out across it, and take his hand
it feels warm, and strong
he looks down at your linked fingers, then up at you, surprise on his face and a flicker of hope in his dark eyes - are you sure?
- yeah, sorry it’s taken so long - you hang on tight as the memories keep coming
floating to the surface, like you did when they reached in and casually ripped you free
broken and ugly
- you’re not ugly - he lifts his other hand to touch your patchy hair - not to me, never, it’s what’s inside that counts
- you don’t want to know what’s inside
your voice is a whisper
he shakes his head and doesn’t press you
but the memory’s there, it’s there, coiled and heavy and foul, sliding through your consciousness like oil, like mucus, like the prehensile tip of a huge green tentacle
licking its way up your thigh as the others held you down, their touch burning, burning
cold green triple-eyes watching eagerly, thick tongues licking at slit-lips
- don’t - you screamed - don’t
but you made no sound and even if you had, they’d have violated you all the same
a whimper escapes you - don’t
- little one - warm fingers curl around your cold ones - how can I help?
- hold me - you pull him down beside you, closing the rest of the gap
you never want to be so far from him again
he hushes you, fumbles the blankets out of the way, lets you press yourself against his side
holding you close, but ready to let you go
keeping you safe, not keeping you prisoner
- thanks - you mumble into his shoulder, when you can speak again
- you’re welcome - he gives one of his ironic snorts, a sound you haven’t heard in far too long - words are a crap medium for communication, aren’t they?
- it’s a good thing there are… other ways - you cling to him tighter, lift your face, let him see that he can safely kiss you now
he’s so careful, it breaks your heart
so beautiful, it sets you on fire
- you can touch me, please touch me, I want you to - you guide his hand under your robes, to some of the places it doesn’t hurt
but still it’s not enough
you want to tear down the veil, let him in, show him all of you
link with me - you whisper - I don’t want secrets from you, not any more
- no, little one, not yet, you’re not ready and neither am I - he kisses you again, gently - there’ll be plenty of time for that later
his hand slides lower down your belly - there are other things we can do while we’re waiting
and oh, it feels so good, and what feels best of all is simply hearing him laugh
...
Howard comes slowly into the bedroom, even the sound of his hesitant footsteps telling Vince that he’s expecting to be told to go away again.
Vince stays sitting on the bed, head in hands, and doesn’t say anything.
The bed creaks as Howard sits down, close but not touching.
Vince looks up at his best mate, his loyal colleague, his annoying teacher, his… faithful lover?
He’s not sure about that last one, but maybe they can work on it.
Poor Howard. He looks exhausted, how can Vince not have noticed?
Vince takes a deep breath.
“Howard… what’ve I done?”
“Nothing, little man, nothing. I’m still here, aren’t I? I’ll always be here.” Howard’s face twists, and it looks like it’s an effort to get the words out. “But fuck it, you haven’t exactly made it easy.”
“I haven’t, have I?” Vince puts a hand on Howard’s shoulder, very cautiously. Howard feels all tight and knotted up. He needs one of Vince’s special shoulder-rubs. But when Vince moves his hand, just a little, Howard shakes his head and puts his own hand over Vince’s, to keep it there.
His shirt cuff’s slipped down. And his wrist –
Vince swallows hard.
Howard sees where he’s looking, and snatches his hand away.
“Did – did you do that?” Vince reaches for the damaged wrist, which Howard is trying to hide, pressing it between his knees, all hunched over and unhappy.
“Does it matter?” Howard asks wearily.
Vince pulls out Howard’s poor battered hand, and presses it to his own cheek. “Course it matters. An’ I know you did it, but it was my fault.” He can feel himself welling up again; he’s not sure how his body’s managing to produce so many tears in such a short time, maybe it’s all those cups of tea Howard’s been making him and getting not much thanks for. “I’m sorry. I just went off on my own an’ never thought what it’d be like for you. I thought what I had to do was hard –”
“It was.”
“But it was hard for you too, an’ I never really thought about that. I couldn’t think about you too much at all to be honest, I’d’ve gone totally mental if I had. I just knew I had a job to do…”
He’d lain face down on the pink satin pillows of the Harrisons’ four-poster bed, where he’d flung himself after stripping briskly naked. He’d never felt so alone and vulnerable in his life – about to be fucked by a sex-crazed, legless alien whose shamanic mumbo-jumbo about oaths was almost certainly not to be trusted, before heading off to an unknown planet on a risky rescue mission with the same sex-crazed, legless alien – and despite the sleek smoothness of the silk bedclothes against his skin, all Vince had really wanted was the reassuring scratchy tickle of a familiar moustache.
Not the squelchy groping of a muscular tentacle.
He’d been unable to suppress a whimper at the first touch, and to his surprise the touch was instantly withdrawn.
“Sssshhh,” Harrison had murmured, his voice surprisingly soft. “Just relax, I’ll make it good for you, I’m too far gone now not to go through with it, an’ let’s face it, you’re the tastiest thing I’ve seen in a very long while an’ I’m certainly gonna enjoy this, but that don’t mean I’ll forget there’s two of us in this bed.”
Vince had kept his eyes tight shut and tried to do as he was told, relaxing little by little as Tony’s tongue and appendages did their work.
He couldn’t help it…
“What couldn’t you help?” Howard’s little crinkly brown eyes are full of concern. Then – “Oh. He said you enjoyed it, and felt guilty afterwards.”
“I’m so sorry, Howard.”
“Don’t be. I mean… would you feel happier if he’d raped you, if you’d had a really bad time? Would you have been able to work with him to rescue Naboo if that had happened? He was just being professional, really, if you think about it.”
“I don’t wanna think about it.”
But he can’t help but think about it, there’s a whole layer of pink slippery memories all jumbled up with the awfulness of seeing Naboo all raw and bleeding and with big chunks of his hair missing, which somehow was the most awful thing of all. And the nasal whine of Tony’s relentlessly cheerful voice is still in Vince’s head, like an annoying mosquito that you just can’t swat.
“There we go,” Tony had said, “that’s beautiful, look in the mirrors if you don’t believe me, I ’ave a deep appreciation of artistic beauty an’ I really appreciate what you’re givin’ me ’ere, it’s top-notch. An’ I know it’s just a one-shot, which makes it all the more delectable. I am savourin’ every moment.”
Vince had sneaked a glance, and even through the film of tears he had to admit the multiple reflections of his trim, white arse-cheeks were indeed things of beauty. Although he could have done without the multiple reflections of Harrison’s private parts, which were frankly alarming.
“Don’t worry, I’ll scale meself down for you. Can’t do anythin’ about the colour, but then you won’t be seein’ that, will you?”
“How did you know what I was thinking?”
Tony had laughed and laughed. “I could say ‘magic’, but I’d be lyin’. Everybody thinks that, when they first catch sight of me legendary multi-hexagonal alien penis. ‘Blimey, it’s bright orange an’ it’s never gonna fit.’ But it will… it will.” He’d calmed down then, and stroked Vince’s back for a while, and it had almost been reassuring.
Almost.
Vince whimpered again when the tentacles returned to his bum and spread him apart. He’d been hard by then, hating himself for it but unable to make his erection go away, and when Harrison had lifted him up, to shove a pillow under him to improve the angle, it had been impossible to prevent the alien seeing… and stroking… and enjoying… and commenting, and fuck it, he didn’t want to know what Tony fucking Harrison thought about humans' genitals in general and Vince Noir’s in particular, but Tony’s touch was so cunning and experienced and downright irresistible that Vince had found himself seeing stars – and coming all over the pink satin upholstery – after only a few minutes.
After that, the insertion of the legendary alien bits wasn’t actually so bad, in fact Vince had to admit that at least some part of the H-Man’s reputation might not be purely a result of Tony’s gift for self-publicity.
Although he could have done without the running commentary.
Vince had had not just one, but two more rather amazing orgasms by the time Tony reached his own screeching, lustful peak, and after that he’d just lain there exhausted and let Tony have his way…
Which after a while he’d realised consisted of a gentle and genuine attempt to clean him up and make him comfortable.
Tony had thanked him and kissed him on the cheek before tucking him in under a clean satin sheet and wriggling in beside him, murmuring a word that had sent Vince instantly and dreamlessly to sleep.
And in the morning they’d woken up entangled and relaxed, but neither of them had said anything about it.
They’d had a job to do…
“Vince?”
“Sorry Howard, I was miles away there.” Vince rubs at his eyes. “Fuck it, I’m tired. An’ you’re tireder. C’m’on, big man, let’s snuggle up an’ have a sleepy an’ then maybe it’ll all look better.”
Howard looks stunned. “You mean that? You don’t want me to sleep in the other bed?”
“No. No, I don’t. I don’t ever want you to be that far away from me again, ever.” Vince grabs on to Howard and holds him tight. “I’ve been an idiot, an’ I’ve been unfaithful to you, all right it was in a good cause but still… an’ I’ve been horrible to you an’ made you hurt yourself, but you’re still here, an’ if you still want me, Howard…”
“Of course I do. You know that.”
“Then I’m all yours. All the broken bits of me, for what they’re worth.”
Howard pulls away a bit and looks down at Vince, and smiles, for the first time since… oh, forever. “Fine by me. Just as long as you’ll let me put you back together.”
“Course I will.” Vince looks back into Howard’s familiar, tired, beautiful face, and Howard kisses him, without even thinking about it.
And oh, it feels so good to be tickled by Howard's bristly moustache, and lie down wrapped in Howard’s strong Northern arms; but what feels best of all is simply hearing him laugh.
…
Bollo stands in the empty kitchen, looking at the beautifully laid table round which nobody is sitting, and the delicious food which nobody is there to eat.
He sighs, and rolls his eyes. “Humans. Shamans. They all as bad as each other. Sometimes Bollo wonder why he bother.”
But he’s grinning as he picks up Naboo’s cauldron and bangs it with a wooden spoon, making a racket that’s fit to wake the whole street.
“Oi! This not time for sleepies! This lunch time!”
Summary: Mending is definitely happening
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: we’re not done with the tentacles yet, and some of them did some pretty unpleasant things
Spoilers: Everybody ends up smiling
Length: about 2230 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: this is a happy ending. But it isn’t THE happy ending, not yet. There is a whole lot more smut and a tiny bit more plot to come, but I’m afraid you’ll have to wait a week or two for those…
Enigma Variations
32 time is an illusion; lunchtime doubly so
saboo comes back into the bedroom, walking like a man in a dream
bollo takes one look at his face and grunts - bollo going shopping for lunch now
you sit up in the bed - what is it? did something happen to vince?
- why didn’t you tell me?
ah, so vince has found his voice at last
you look at the floor - couldn’t
- vince said you wouldn’t remember
- suppressed it - you mutter
not well enough though, you remember everything: falling, hitting the surface, the shock of cold and the awful realisation of burning, burning all over
and those things…
their shrill, harsh voices laughing at your screams as they stabbed the life support tube into your arm
their wiry tentacles forcing you under, hanging the weights from your limbs with cruel precision to make you neutrally buoyant
their threefold eyes watching you writhe and suffer, watching the damage they’d inflicted, every stripe and scar and crater kept open by the acid fluid in which they’d suspended you
and their - no no no can’t think about that, don’t want to remember, don’t want to -
- steady on, little one, I’m here now, nobody’s going to make you do anything…
he sits down on the bed, careful to leave a space
you reach out across it, and take his hand
it feels warm, and strong
he looks down at your linked fingers, then up at you, surprise on his face and a flicker of hope in his dark eyes - are you sure?
- yeah, sorry it’s taken so long - you hang on tight as the memories keep coming
floating to the surface, like you did when they reached in and casually ripped you free
broken and ugly
- you’re not ugly - he lifts his other hand to touch your patchy hair - not to me, never, it’s what’s inside that counts
- you don’t want to know what’s inside
your voice is a whisper
he shakes his head and doesn’t press you
but the memory’s there, it’s there, coiled and heavy and foul, sliding through your consciousness like oil, like mucus, like the prehensile tip of a huge green tentacle
licking its way up your thigh as the others held you down, their touch burning, burning
cold green triple-eyes watching eagerly, thick tongues licking at slit-lips
- don’t - you screamed - don’t
but you made no sound and even if you had, they’d have violated you all the same
a whimper escapes you - don’t
- little one - warm fingers curl around your cold ones - how can I help?
- hold me - you pull him down beside you, closing the rest of the gap
you never want to be so far from him again
he hushes you, fumbles the blankets out of the way, lets you press yourself against his side
holding you close, but ready to let you go
keeping you safe, not keeping you prisoner
- thanks - you mumble into his shoulder, when you can speak again
- you’re welcome - he gives one of his ironic snorts, a sound you haven’t heard in far too long - words are a crap medium for communication, aren’t they?
- it’s a good thing there are… other ways - you cling to him tighter, lift your face, let him see that he can safely kiss you now
he’s so careful, it breaks your heart
so beautiful, it sets you on fire
- you can touch me, please touch me, I want you to - you guide his hand under your robes, to some of the places it doesn’t hurt
but still it’s not enough
you want to tear down the veil, let him in, show him all of you
link with me - you whisper - I don’t want secrets from you, not any more
- no, little one, not yet, you’re not ready and neither am I - he kisses you again, gently - there’ll be plenty of time for that later
his hand slides lower down your belly - there are other things we can do while we’re waiting
and oh, it feels so good, and what feels best of all is simply hearing him laugh
...
Howard comes slowly into the bedroom, even the sound of his hesitant footsteps telling Vince that he’s expecting to be told to go away again.
Vince stays sitting on the bed, head in hands, and doesn’t say anything.
The bed creaks as Howard sits down, close but not touching.
Vince looks up at his best mate, his loyal colleague, his annoying teacher, his… faithful lover?
He’s not sure about that last one, but maybe they can work on it.
Poor Howard. He looks exhausted, how can Vince not have noticed?
Vince takes a deep breath.
“Howard… what’ve I done?”
“Nothing, little man, nothing. I’m still here, aren’t I? I’ll always be here.” Howard’s face twists, and it looks like it’s an effort to get the words out. “But fuck it, you haven’t exactly made it easy.”
“I haven’t, have I?” Vince puts a hand on Howard’s shoulder, very cautiously. Howard feels all tight and knotted up. He needs one of Vince’s special shoulder-rubs. But when Vince moves his hand, just a little, Howard shakes his head and puts his own hand over Vince’s, to keep it there.
His shirt cuff’s slipped down. And his wrist –
Vince swallows hard.
Howard sees where he’s looking, and snatches his hand away.
“Did – did you do that?” Vince reaches for the damaged wrist, which Howard is trying to hide, pressing it between his knees, all hunched over and unhappy.
“Does it matter?” Howard asks wearily.
Vince pulls out Howard’s poor battered hand, and presses it to his own cheek. “Course it matters. An’ I know you did it, but it was my fault.” He can feel himself welling up again; he’s not sure how his body’s managing to produce so many tears in such a short time, maybe it’s all those cups of tea Howard’s been making him and getting not much thanks for. “I’m sorry. I just went off on my own an’ never thought what it’d be like for you. I thought what I had to do was hard –”
“It was.”
“But it was hard for you too, an’ I never really thought about that. I couldn’t think about you too much at all to be honest, I’d’ve gone totally mental if I had. I just knew I had a job to do…”
He’d lain face down on the pink satin pillows of the Harrisons’ four-poster bed, where he’d flung himself after stripping briskly naked. He’d never felt so alone and vulnerable in his life – about to be fucked by a sex-crazed, legless alien whose shamanic mumbo-jumbo about oaths was almost certainly not to be trusted, before heading off to an unknown planet on a risky rescue mission with the same sex-crazed, legless alien – and despite the sleek smoothness of the silk bedclothes against his skin, all Vince had really wanted was the reassuring scratchy tickle of a familiar moustache.
Not the squelchy groping of a muscular tentacle.
He’d been unable to suppress a whimper at the first touch, and to his surprise the touch was instantly withdrawn.
“Sssshhh,” Harrison had murmured, his voice surprisingly soft. “Just relax, I’ll make it good for you, I’m too far gone now not to go through with it, an’ let’s face it, you’re the tastiest thing I’ve seen in a very long while an’ I’m certainly gonna enjoy this, but that don’t mean I’ll forget there’s two of us in this bed.”
Vince had kept his eyes tight shut and tried to do as he was told, relaxing little by little as Tony’s tongue and appendages did their work.
He couldn’t help it…
“What couldn’t you help?” Howard’s little crinkly brown eyes are full of concern. Then – “Oh. He said you enjoyed it, and felt guilty afterwards.”
“I’m so sorry, Howard.”
“Don’t be. I mean… would you feel happier if he’d raped you, if you’d had a really bad time? Would you have been able to work with him to rescue Naboo if that had happened? He was just being professional, really, if you think about it.”
“I don’t wanna think about it.”
But he can’t help but think about it, there’s a whole layer of pink slippery memories all jumbled up with the awfulness of seeing Naboo all raw and bleeding and with big chunks of his hair missing, which somehow was the most awful thing of all. And the nasal whine of Tony’s relentlessly cheerful voice is still in Vince’s head, like an annoying mosquito that you just can’t swat.
“There we go,” Tony had said, “that’s beautiful, look in the mirrors if you don’t believe me, I ’ave a deep appreciation of artistic beauty an’ I really appreciate what you’re givin’ me ’ere, it’s top-notch. An’ I know it’s just a one-shot, which makes it all the more delectable. I am savourin’ every moment.”
Vince had sneaked a glance, and even through the film of tears he had to admit the multiple reflections of his trim, white arse-cheeks were indeed things of beauty. Although he could have done without the multiple reflections of Harrison’s private parts, which were frankly alarming.
“Don’t worry, I’ll scale meself down for you. Can’t do anythin’ about the colour, but then you won’t be seein’ that, will you?”
“How did you know what I was thinking?”
Tony had laughed and laughed. “I could say ‘magic’, but I’d be lyin’. Everybody thinks that, when they first catch sight of me legendary multi-hexagonal alien penis. ‘Blimey, it’s bright orange an’ it’s never gonna fit.’ But it will… it will.” He’d calmed down then, and stroked Vince’s back for a while, and it had almost been reassuring.
Almost.
Vince whimpered again when the tentacles returned to his bum and spread him apart. He’d been hard by then, hating himself for it but unable to make his erection go away, and when Harrison had lifted him up, to shove a pillow under him to improve the angle, it had been impossible to prevent the alien seeing… and stroking… and enjoying… and commenting, and fuck it, he didn’t want to know what Tony fucking Harrison thought about humans' genitals in general and Vince Noir’s in particular, but Tony’s touch was so cunning and experienced and downright irresistible that Vince had found himself seeing stars – and coming all over the pink satin upholstery – after only a few minutes.
After that, the insertion of the legendary alien bits wasn’t actually so bad, in fact Vince had to admit that at least some part of the H-Man’s reputation might not be purely a result of Tony’s gift for self-publicity.
Although he could have done without the running commentary.
Vince had had not just one, but two more rather amazing orgasms by the time Tony reached his own screeching, lustful peak, and after that he’d just lain there exhausted and let Tony have his way…
Which after a while he’d realised consisted of a gentle and genuine attempt to clean him up and make him comfortable.
Tony had thanked him and kissed him on the cheek before tucking him in under a clean satin sheet and wriggling in beside him, murmuring a word that had sent Vince instantly and dreamlessly to sleep.
And in the morning they’d woken up entangled and relaxed, but neither of them had said anything about it.
They’d had a job to do…
“Vince?”
“Sorry Howard, I was miles away there.” Vince rubs at his eyes. “Fuck it, I’m tired. An’ you’re tireder. C’m’on, big man, let’s snuggle up an’ have a sleepy an’ then maybe it’ll all look better.”
Howard looks stunned. “You mean that? You don’t want me to sleep in the other bed?”
“No. No, I don’t. I don’t ever want you to be that far away from me again, ever.” Vince grabs on to Howard and holds him tight. “I’ve been an idiot, an’ I’ve been unfaithful to you, all right it was in a good cause but still… an’ I’ve been horrible to you an’ made you hurt yourself, but you’re still here, an’ if you still want me, Howard…”
“Of course I do. You know that.”
“Then I’m all yours. All the broken bits of me, for what they’re worth.”
Howard pulls away a bit and looks down at Vince, and smiles, for the first time since… oh, forever. “Fine by me. Just as long as you’ll let me put you back together.”
“Course I will.” Vince looks back into Howard’s familiar, tired, beautiful face, and Howard kisses him, without even thinking about it.
And oh, it feels so good to be tickled by Howard's bristly moustache, and lie down wrapped in Howard’s strong Northern arms; but what feels best of all is simply hearing him laugh.
…
Bollo stands in the empty kitchen, looking at the beautifully laid table round which nobody is sitting, and the delicious food which nobody is there to eat.
He sighs, and rolls his eyes. “Humans. Shamans. They all as bad as each other. Sometimes Bollo wonder why he bother.”
But he’s grinning as he picks up Naboo’s cauldron and bangs it with a wooden spoon, making a racket that’s fit to wake the whole street.
“Oi! This not time for sleepies! This lunch time!”
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 2012-08-10 06:58 pm (UTC)I'm so, so happy that everyone has truly begun to heal. I like the nice parallel between Naboo and Vince, how what they like best of all is hearing Saboo and Howard laugh. And I was laughing a bit when you revealed that that the most awful part for Vince was seeing Naboo with chunks of his hair missing - not surprising, really, considering it's Vince you're talking about. I'm so glad that Vince has finally realized how hard it was for Howard and that he's making an attempt to comfort Howard, as well as allowing Howard to comfort him.
And Bollo! You let those boys and shamen sleep and cuddle and comfort one another to their hearts content! Lunch can wait!
no subject
Date: 2012-08-10 08:32 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2012-08-10 11:22 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2012-08-11 02:47 am (UTC)And also, I'm so glad that Vince and Howard are back to their snuggly selves! :)
no subject
Date: 2012-08-11 10:14 am (UTC)I'm so glad that Naboo and Saboo are finally able to properly acknowledge their feelings for each other in a truthful and honest way. The care with which they treat each other here is just gorgeous, and still manages not to feel sentimental - things still aren't completely smoothed over and they've got a lot to go through but they'll get there in the end.
Vince calling Howard 'Big Man' just got to me. Two halves of the same euro indeed. They can work on being 'faithful lovers' too.
And then just Bollo at the end, being Bollo, bringing it all together. There's something else beautiful in his decleration that humans and shamans are all the same but at the moment I'm too grinningly happy to eloquently say what it is.
no subject
Date: 2012-08-11 06:01 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2012-08-12 03:52 am (UTC)I understand now, I think, what you said in a response in an earlier chapter about the way in which Naboo's trauma, albeit horrible and painful and frightening, caused him trauma that was less profound and easier to mend than Vince's experience. What happened to Naboo was totally without his consent, and it was universally awful, and so it's... kind of easier to dissociate the whole episode from himself, and he and Saboo will be able to progress slowly as he heals. (Saboo's right: they've got plenty of time for all of that!) What Vince went through wasn't nearly as physically painful, but... that's kind of part of his problem, isn't it? He didn't want to enjoy it, when he found everything else about the situation totally repellant, and even though Howard is right that it is better than the alternative, Vince feels guilty and like he was unfaithful because of that physical response. That feeling of being culpable just makes sorting it out more complicated. He's beating himself up a bit unfairly here, but it's a really good sign that he asked Howard to stay with him, and explained just how important it is to him to NOT be apart again. They're so much stronger together than apart. And I'm sure things will look better as a good (and finally restful!) sleepy together.
Last but certainly not least: a massive thank you to you for posting this and the last several chapters in such quick succession, and not leaving us hanging with the boys all broken! I'm in awe of your writing speed, and very grateful that you let us enjoy the start of the happy ending that they all so deserve. I'll be delighted to read what's to come, but that's because I know it'll be wonderful and not because the unresolved angst is driving me nuts. &hearts
no subject
Date: 2012-08-13 12:56 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2012-08-18 08:46 pm (UTC)