booshslashhaven | Denial (one-shot ficlet)

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Title: Denial
Rating: NC-17
Pairing: (Boosh RPS) Noelian (who else?!)
Genre: Angst, implied (strong) smut
Word Count: 1810
Summary: Alone, they’re dysfunctional; but together they’re worse...
Disclaimer: Noel and Julian belong only to themselves. The events in this are entirely fictional; a product of my overly vivid, and mostly twisted, imagination. No harm/offence intended, and no money is being made from the writing of this.
Author Notes: I posted this on my journal earlier, so apologies to those on my f-list for whom this might not be new, but I wanted to get a few people's opinions before deciding whether or not to post it here... Thanks to those who replied there; it's entirely down to you that I'm posting this now! Although it has had some minor revisions to the original version.

They’re the same but different, Julian and Noel.

They both long for the place they feel at home, at peace…

They both need the company of others.

Even though the places they yearn for, the company they both seek, couldn’t be more opposite…

At the end of the day, on their own, they're both dysfunctional...

*****

Julian doesn’t really like touring. He loves the shows and the audiences; performing is his life after all. But he doesn’t like everything that goes with it, the press, the long days, and stress of being on the road, and the even longer nights.

Julian finds it difficult to sleep on the tour-bus sometimes. Nights when he misses his family, his home; the place he belongs and he feels lost when he’s away.

Nights when he’s feeling edgy and anxious, out of place with the screaming and the all too intrusive press.

When he’s stressed and physically exhausted but his mind just won’t switch off. It’s times like that that his bunk is like a coffin and he feels like he’s been buried alive.

He tosses and turns on nights like that, sometimes getting up to make himself a hot chocolate, sometimes just lying there and staring at the too-close ceiling. He never says anything to anyone because he’s proud like that, won’t accept help even if it’s freely offered.

Noel always seems to know though, and he’ll creep into Julian’s bunk and lie close behind him, making soft, comforting noises and stroking warm hands over clammy skin.

Julian says nothing on nights like that; he lies there, still and quiet, and lets Noel do whatever he feels he needs to do. Because he knows that Noel likes to help, wants to help.

And maybe he knows Noel needs it to. Not that he’d ever admit to even thinking that…

But he doesn’t want it, not really. He endures it, for Noel, because Noel cares and he hates to see his friends suffering. But he doesn’t need it, and he never asks for it.

And if he sleeps better on nights like that, well, that’s just coincidence.

Sometimes it just stays like that, Noel’s strong, steady hands and surprisingly soft fingers making his skin tingle softly as he rhythmically strokes across it; his back, his hips, his chest, his arms, his stomach.

But sometimes it’s not his fingers that touch his stomach; it’s Noel’s hair that tickles his skin instead, his lips, as they trail down, touching softly, but not teasing, not lingering too long.

Julian grips the sheets when Noel’s hot, wet mouth closes over him, his lips tight and soft around him. He won’t touch his hair because if he does he’ll know who it is. Because if he closes his eyes, it’s not Noel, it’s Julia, and he’s not cheating.

And so he lies back, and thinks of home, as Noel works him perfectly with his oh-so-talented mouth; winds him up slowly but surely, tongue licking and cheeks hollowed, sucking as he bobs his head and then just as carefully breaks him right apart again.

And when he comes, it’s Julia’s name on his lips, not Noel’s. Because that’s who he’s thinking off. It’s not Noel, it isn’t.

It’s her company he craves. It is.

And that’s why it doesn’t bother him that Noel’s never there when he wakes up. Always leaves sometime after Julian has fallen asleep.

Only maybe, maybe it’s not okay. Maybe it is Noel he’s thinking off. And that’s why he lies awake at night.

Because as much as he misses his family, his home, his girlfriend and his kids, the fact is, lying there, in his lonely, quiet bunk, he misses Noel more.

Only, he won’t let himself think that, and so he endures Noel’s comforts, his hands and his arms and his lips. Because he knows it’s just that; comfort.

Even though it isn’t, not really, because it always leaves him feeling guilty, raw and ashamed at the feelings he can’t quite suppress.

And it never lasts long enough.

But it’s all he can deal with, because if Noel loved him back, he wouldn’t be able to deny it anymore…

*****

Noel hates it when the tour is over. He doesn’t like it when he has to go home, when it’s all finished and done and everything is back to normal. When he’s just Noel again.

He adores the hustle and bustle of life on the road, the interviews and the screaming fans; he lives for it. It’s where he belongs; in the limelight and he feels lost without it.

There are times Noel can’t sleep when he’s at home, despite Dee’s small, soft and warm body tucked under his arm, her quiet, steady breathing.

He can’t sleep because he’s not tired; he hates to be still, is a workaholic really, and when he hasn’t got anything to do, he’s just too filled with energy and ideas to even close his eyes.

And so, he lies awake, and listens to Dee beside him, feels her pulse, and thinks of the tour, of the excitement and the thrill of being on stage, and plans his next venture.

Sometimes, he goes a little mad at the end of the tour, refuses to accept that it’s all over and ends up down the pub, drinking whiskey and snorting lines of white powder in the toilets. He’s obnoxious when he’s like that, he knows, but he doesn’t admit it. Even Dee won’t put up with him when he’s drunk and high and talking too fast about his own fucking importance.

And so, sometime in the night, when Noel’s managed to piss everyone else off, Julian will arrive, because he knows somehow, that Noel needs him. Even though Noel hasn’t asked for him to come, hasn’t phoned him even though he knows he’s in over his head. Because he won’t ask; he’s proud like that.

He doesn’t say anything to Noel, and for once, Noel shuts up too. Letting Julian lead him silently outside and into a taxi, taking him back to Noel’s house, which will be empty because Dee stays over at Sue’s when Noel’s like that. Because he knows Julian cares and worries about him; hates to see him in a state and wants to make sure he’s safe.

When they get through the door though, they’re anything but silent.

Julian will start it, by asking what Noel thinks he’s playing at; why he’s doing this to himself? And he really shouldn’t because this isn’t who he is. Noel is modest and a little shy at times, and kind and good to his friends. Okay, Noel can be hedonistic at times, but not this much.

And of course, Noel will bite; his chemical fuelled brain taking offence and finding cruelty in Julian’s softly voiced concern.

They fight, on nights like that, all harsh words and insults and hard, steely expressions. Sometimes, most times, it turns physical, when invariably, Noel will throw something at Julian, and Julian will try to restrain him.

Noel bites and kicks and scratches when he’s fighting; fights dirty. He punches, too, though, hard, and occasionally he’ll land one, when Julian lets his guard down, but mostly not, because Julian is bigger, taller and stronger than Noel.

And eventually, Julian will overpower Noel, as he was always going to. And he’ll turn him around and push him up against the wall, pinning him there head first. And Noel, knowing this is what Julian needs to do, stays still then, while Julian drags Noel’s trousers down, spitting on his hand and slicking his dick with saliva before pushing inside Noel’s tight heat without any further preparation.

And Noel endures it, because he knows Julian’s only trying to help cleanse and purge all the alcohol and the coke, and the anger and resentment that Noel’s built up inside. Because Julian cares about his friends and he just wants to help.

And maybe he knows that Julian needs it too. Not that he’d ever admit to even thinking that…

Noel claws at the wall as Julian fucks him, saying nothing as the pain seers through him, stabbing fiercely at the fog that clouds his mind and pushing through it. He knows Julian’s only doing this, only hurting him like this because he cares, because he’s trying to give Noel something to focus on, something to bring him down, and it works, as Noel comes finally, pulsing hotly over Julian’s strong, callused fingers, and trembling and shaking in his arms.

He focuses on the pain, because that’s what he needs, that’s what he’s thinking of, not Julian.

And he still says nothing as Julian pulls out of him, gently cleaning him up and leading him to his bedroom.

Julian never stays, and Noel never asks him to. Because he doesn’t want him to.

He tells himself that this is all just about release, about letting go, so he can go back to normal, and he tells himself that he’s thinking of Dee, that it’s Dee he wants cuddled up against him right now, not Julian.

Except it isn’t, it’s not Dee he’s thinking about when Julian tucks him in, and kisses his forehead softly, whispering that he’ll call him in the morning, it’s Julian, and he wishes he’d stay more than anything else in the world.

And then, on nights like that, when he finally, finally succumbs to the post-fucked exhaustion and haze, and actually lets himself sleep, he wants nothing more than to have Julian there beside him.

Because as much as he misses the tour, and the thrill of performing, and the adulation and the screams, as much as he craves the stage, the fact is, he misses Julian more.

Only he won’t let himself think of that, and he endures the brutal, hard fucking and the pain meant to sharpen and ground, because he knows it’s just that; cleansing.

Except it isn’t, not really, because Noel’s not letting anything go, he’s just clinging on harder for that little bit longer.

And it never lasts long enough.

But it’s all he can deal with, because if Julian loved him back, he wouldn’t be able to deny it anymore…

*****

They’re different but the same, Noel and Julian.

They both have different reasons for the walls they shield themselves behind; they both have different motivations and different fears.

They both have their own unique methods of pretending.

But it all amounts to the same thing:

That they’re both running; too busy hiding behind what they think they should want, to realise, that what they really long for, is what they already have.

And if alone they’re dysfunctional, then together they’re worse.

Because together they are both everything, and nothing, all at the same time.

But there's nothing else they can be. Not while they're both in denial that is...

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