booshslashhaven | Fic: The Proxy (4/4 + Epilogue) [Boosh/Barley crossover, Dan/Vince, Howard/Vince, Dan/Jones]

Title: The Proxy (4/4 + Epilogue)
Author:

thickets
Fandom: The Mighty Boosh/Nathan Barley
Pairing: Dan/Vince, Howard/Vince, Dan/Jones
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: slight AU, angst, fluff, burnt toast
Words: 3700 (this chapter), 17000 (total!)
Disclaimer: I own neither Boosh nor Barley.
Summary: Two strangers who have been left behind keep each other company.
Notes: This is set at the end of series 3, but is slightly AU because Howard doesn't come home after two weeks. Beta-read as ever by the wonderful

eggnogged and

the_reverand.

Previously: Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3

{The Proxy OST}

::: DOWNLOAD :::

The Proxy
Chapter Four

"Coffee, tea, or water, sir?"

Vince rubbed his eyes. "Um, tea. No, coffee." He took the polystyrene cup from the steward, and added sugar to it until it was nearly sludge. While he waited for it to cool, he pulled a piece of paper from his pocket. On it was written Howard's Copenhagen address; Naboo had given it to him when he'd hesitantly explained why he was asking for time off.

"How'd you get this?" Vince had asked in disbelief.

"Shaman secret."

"Harold call up and ask us to send awful jazz records in post after he leave," Bollo had clarified.

"What?" Vince had said. "Howard called you? Why didn't you tell me? What did he say?"

"He told me not to tell you he'd called," Naboo had explained, shooting an annoyed expression at Bollo. "And he didn't say much anyway, just that he was extremely busy."

What the hell? Vince had felt put out. Crestfallen, even. Why does he want to avoid me so badly? Does he hate me that much?

"Look, Vince," Naboo had said, "just concentrate on getting Howard to come back, all right?"

"What? Do you miss him?"

"Course not! But you're bleeding useless without him around. And we haven't sold anything in the shop since he left. I don't know what it is, but clearly Howard contributed ... something to this place."

Vince had smiled and folded up the address. "Thanks, Naboo. I'll give him your love then, shall I?"

"Shut up."

Now he was nearly an hour from landing in Denmark. In no time at all, with luck, he'd see Howard again. He wasn't certain whether he wanted time to speed up or stretch out. A million possible scenarios played out in his mind, and he couldn't turn them off. What should he say? Should he play it cool? How could he do that? It wasn't as if he could claim he'd just popped in because he was in the neighborhood, could he? Vince sat back in his seat, groaned, and licked some coffee-sugar silt from the rim of his cup. Should I try calling him again? No. If he knows I'm on my way, he might try to avoid seeing me.

He put the coffee cup on the fold out tray and scrounged around in his carry-on bag until he found a purple felt-tip pen. He flipped the paper containing Howard's address over and sketched a rough plan pony on the reverse. "Guess it's just you and me, ain't it?"

:::

The building Howard's flat was in was nondescript, brown brick. Functional. Practical. Vince felt like a freak standing in the road in front of it, dragging along his matching silver hard-sided suitcases, and wearing his poncho (in the hope that it really was true that it was impossible to be unhappy while wearing one). Vince sincerely hoped Howard would be in because he'd optimistically neglected to book a hotel room.

"Come on, Noir," he said to himself, and pushed onwards up the front garden path and through the main doors.

Howard's flat was on the third floor, and there wasn't an elevator. Vince counted each step, thinking, That's one less I'll have to climb before I see him. Then there was only a corridor left. One door. Two. Three. Here it was. Howard's door.

For a minute, he felt paralyzed. Then a burst of adrenaline overcame him; he dropped his suitcases and pounded on the door.

Silence.

Fuck, he really isn't home. I am an idiot.

"Just a minute! Um, en minut!"

Vince let out an undignified squeak and stumbled backwards. Howard's voice! Oh, crap, he's going to open that door in a second and I have no idea what to say. Get me out of here!

The door swung open.

In the long moment of silence that followed, they stared at each other, stupefied. Then Vince cleared his throat and said, "All right, Howard."

Howard opened and closed his mouth a few times, then stepped backwards into the flat, clearing the entrance. "Come inside, Vince."

:::

Vince stood near the kitchen counter in Howard's little flat, twisting his poncho in his fists, while Howard made tea. Loudly. If there were awards for making noise in the kitchen, right now Howard would have a shot at the silver medal at least, maybe even the gold. He pulled the teapot out of the cupboard and set it on the counter with unnecessary force, his eyes stubbornly remaining set away from Vince.

He hates me. I knew it. He doesn't want me here. I should have called after all.

Two cups joined the teapot, and then Howard picked up the kettle from its rest and poured water into the teapot, hands shaking. Vince licked his lips and, feeling a spark of courage at the sight of Howard's familiar stooped back, spoke up. "I missed you."

Crash! Howard knocked one of the cups over with the edge of the kettle; it fell to the floor and smashed into pieces. Howard swore and crouched down, his ears red, and began picking up the shards.

"Sorry!" Vince cried, and knelt down next to him to help.

"My fault," Howard mumbled, still not looking at him.

"Watch out, Howard, you're going to –"

"Ow!"

"-- Cut yourself, see? I told you."

Howard's face crumpled and he turned his head away. "Is it bad? I can't look."

Vince's lips twitched and his heart thumped a little. For a second, it was like no time had passed at all. "Come over to the sink and let me take a look at it."

While they huddled together at the sink, running water over Howard's cut (it turned out not to be that bad at all, though Howard still made a big deal over it), Vince asked quietly, "Why ain't you returned any of my calls, Howard?"

Howard looked guilty, and jerked his hand away from Vince's grasp. He picked up a dishcloth and wrapped his hand up in it. "I – I – it's just been really busy, Vince. Mad."

"Oh?" Vince said dully, and looked around Howard's place. It was bare and painfully tidy, immaculate even. Like the weird, inverse reality of Dan's flat. "Is that all?"

Howard looked down and kicked at the broken crockery on the floor with one foot. "I'm sorry."

Vince pressed his lips together tightly. "What the hell, Howard? I really missed you, you berk! Is that all you've got to say?"

Howard looked stricken. "I – Vince –"

Seething, Vince stalked out of the kitchen, pulling the poncho over his head, wadding it up into a ball and throwing it on the floor as he went. Pointless. "You couldn’t have even texted me? Hello, I'm alive, leave me alone? Anything would have done!"

Looking increasingly alarmed, Howard bent over and picked up Vince's poncho from the floor, shaking it out and awkwardly attempting to fold it with one hand – the other, still wrapped in the dishcloth, was pressed to his chest.

"I mean," Vince continued, "would it have killed you just to tell me that you didn't want anything more to do with me? Couldn't you have just done that much before you fucked off with your fantastic career?"

"Vince!" Howard said. "What on earth are you talking about?"

Vince sat down on the edge of Howard's fold-out bed and passed a hand over his eyes. "I really needed you, Howard! You don't know what the last few months have been like! For God's sake, just tell me what's going on!"

Suddenly Howard was beside him, hugging him, the poncho pressed between their bodies, like some kind of protective barrier. Vince buried his face in its rough, warm fabric, closing his eyes tightly, trying unsuccessfully not to cry. "Vince, you've got it all wrong," Howard said mournfully. "Things have been awful here. Terrible. I can't even explain it. I was so lonely, so homesick. I thought if I called you, heard your voice ... or even wrote you a letter ... I'd wind up telling you everything, and then I'd lose my nerve, give up and go home."

Vince looked up at him, trying to determine whether or not he was being serious. Howard looked embarrassed and anxious, but utterly sincere. "Howard, you are an idiot."

Howard's eyes narrowed in indignation. "Excuse me?"

"Oh God," Vince said, and started laughing. He drew Howard closer and rubbed his face against Howard's shoulder, loving the way he smelled and even the soft, fuzzy texture of his cardigan. "Hell, Howard, I've missed you so much."

"Vince, are you wiping snot all over my clothing?"

"Mmm," Vince replied noncommittally, and squeezed Howard tightly. To his surprise, Howard squeezed him back.

"Do you still want that tea?" Howard asked.

Vince nodded. Howard pulled back, handing the poncho back to Vince, who folded it properly, while Howard removed the dishcloth and took a look at his hand. "Oh, it's nothing," he said with embarrassment.

"Told you," Vince said, smiling wobbly, and then spontaneously grabbed Howard's hand and pressed a kiss to the tiny cut on the mound of his palm. Howard's eyes grew wide. Vince dropped his hand and turned away, letting his hair fall over his face. Shit, this is difficult. A second later, Howard cleared his throat and stood up and went into the kitchen. Vince rubbed his face briskly and smoothed his hair, trying to pull himself together.

Howard came back into the room a minute later, carrying a tray with their tea (Vince's made exactly the way he liked it, milk and honey and sugar) and a plate of biscuits. He sat down about a foot away; Vince shoved a whole biscuit in his mouth and inched closer. "Is it true they eat chocolate sprinkle sandwiches here?"

"That's Holland, not Denmark. And don't talk with your mouth full."

"Oh." Vince licked his lips and watched Howard drink his tea. He wanted to just tell him ... what he wanted to tell him ... but part of him just wanted to sit here, enjoying his presence, feeling that wonderful glowy feeling he had when he was around Howard. He couldn't choose between the two options, so he picked a third. "Has it been really terrible here, Howard?"

Howard coughed. "I ... don't want to talk about it. But yes."

"Avant-garde cinema not what you thought it was?"

"Don't make fun of me."

"I'm not, Howard, I'm not. I don't mean it, don't be mad at me." He wiggled even closer to Howard and leaned against his shoulder. Howard looked bemused, then, after a moment, put an arm around him. Vince was embarrassed to discover that the action nearly made him melt with happiness.

"You're very ... tactile, today," Howard observed.

Vince swallowed nervously. "Like I said, I missed you."

"Poor Vince," Howard said, but he looked a little pleased.

"Did you think I wouldn't?"

Howard's face drooped. "I didn't know what to think. You haven't exactly been very friendly to me lately."

Ouch. "Sorry," he said. "I ... I don't know what I've been thinking, Howard. I've been rotten and awful."

Howard made a surprised noise, and patted him on the shoulder. "It's all in the past. Let's forget it and start over."

Vince bit his lip. "Will you come back to London with me then?"

Howard nodded miserably. "I have to get out of here, Vince, I can't stand it anymore."

Grabbing Howard's hand and squeezing it, Vince thought, I have to do it. I have to tell him now! "Howard, I ..." He trailed off. His mouth had gone completely dry; he couldn't say it.

Howard looked at him, alarmed. "What is it? Is everything all right?"

Vince nodded, mutely, but Howard only looked more concerned. He put his hands on Vince's shoulders. "Come on, tell me what's wrong, little man."

A flush crept over Vince's face. "It's been a really long time since I heard you call me that," he managed to say.

"What, 'little man'?"

"Yeah."

"I thought you didn't like it, actually."

"No, I love it." His breath caught in his throat. "I ... love you, Howard."

"Eh?"

"I love you. I love you! There, I said it. Whew." Vince blinked. He felt kind of dizzy. Howard was staring at him, uncomprehending. "Howard." He put his arms around his neck. "I love you, Howard."

"Vince?"

"You get it now?" Vince asked, and kissed him. When he pulled back, Howard's face was beet red, and he was tentatively sliding his tongue over his lips, like he couldn't believe Vince's mouth had been pressed against them a second ago. "I love you!" he said, and laughed, feeling almost hysterical from the contradictory sensations of relief and trepidation pumping through him.

"Is this about the party? The roof?" Howard managed to ask faintly.

"It's about everything."

"I don't understand."

"What's there to understand? I love you to bits, Howard. I have for a long time, but it wasn't until you went away that I realized just how much ..." A tremor went through him, and for a second he couldn't speak. "Just how much I did. Love you."

"Vince, you can't possibly ... you don't know what you're saying."

"Yes, I do!" Vince said. "I fuckin' adore you, Howard! You're the most important person in the world to me! And nobody else can replace you. Nobody else is ... you."

Howard looked completely confused. Vince imagined that this must be a completely new experience for him; nobody else could have ever said these sorts of things to him, except terrifying mercreatures, perhaps. He looked so lost and astonished that Vince almost wanted to comfort him, but that would only stun Howard even more.

"I've told you ... that I loved you ... before," Howard said, slowly. "And you laughed."

Vince cringed, ashamed.

"You laughed at me."

"I'm sorry," Vince whispered.

"Say it again," Howard said. His face was expressionless.

"What?"

"Say it again. That you love me."

Vince suddenly was seized with the fear that if he did say it, Howard would laugh forever, in some kind of sick revenge. Well, I'd only deserve it. "I love you," he said once more.

Howard's brow drew together, his eyes nearly manic. Then he grabbed the sides of Vince's face and kissed him, hard.

Oh, thank fuck.

He was being kissed within an inch of his life. Howard was like a man possessed, like he'd been saving all of his affection and lust up for ages (and probably, Vince mused, he had) and now that he had the opportunity to let it out he couldn't handle it. Despite his inexperience, his kisses sent shudders through Vince's body like nothing else he'd ever felt. As Howard pushed him down onto the fold-out, his hands ceaselessly moving over, gripping, then releasing Vince's body as though he couldn't get a proper handle on it, Vince thought he'd never felt so alive, so in the moment, and so completely satisfied with anything.

Howard propped himself up on his elbows and drew back, gasping. He was out of breath and his eyes were wide. "Vince."

"It's okay, Howard," Vince said, and reached up and petted Howard's cheek. Howard made a funny little noise, almost like a whine, and started pressing kisses along Vince's arm, heading down to his shoulder, and then across his chest through his t-shirt. Vince laughed. It tickled.

"Vince, Vince, I love you so much," Howard said, his voice muffled by Vince's stomach. The vibration of Howard's voice against his skin sent spirals of pleasure through him.

"That's a relief," Vince said, and ran his hands through Howard's curly hair. It needed a trim. He traced the rims of his ears with his fingers and Howard shivered.

"I never thought this would happen to me," Howard said.

That's so sad, Vince thought. "I'm sorry it didn't happen sooner. I'm an idiot."

"Don't say that," Howard said, wrapping his arms around Vince's middle. "Nobody gets to say that about my –" he drew up short.

"Your what?" Vince asked, delightedly.

"My Vince," Howard finished, lamely.

"Except you," Vince added.

"Except me." He sat up. "Because I don't really mean it, you know."

"Yeah, I know."

Howard eyes raked over Vince's outstretched body with a look that Vince could only describe as ravenous. Vince shifted on the bed and arched his back, the metal rod in the center of the foldout poking into him uncomfortably. Howard's Adam's apple bobbed. "I don't know what to do," he said with almost childish frustration, like a little kid faced with a complicated coveted new toy he didn't know how to work.

Vince grinned and pulled him down to him. "It's okay. I'll take care of you, Howard."

:::

Vince thought he could stare at Howard's sleeping face all day. He'd been awake since seven – ridiculously early for him, but that bed was damned uncomfortable, he didn't know how Howard had stood it for two months – and he'd been up and about, but he kept coming back to sit on the edge of the bed and just look at him. He knew he had a ridiculously stupid smile on his face, but he couldn't help it. He almost didn't want to wake him up, however, if he let him sleep any later Howard would be angry.

Carefully balancing the plate in his hands on his knees, he leaned over and, his face hovering a few inches from Howard's own, he blew a long puff of warm breath over his face. Howard's nose scrunched up. "Uggh?"

"Wake up," Vince said.

"Vince?" Howard said, confused. He blinked, and then smiled as comprehension returned to him. "Oh," he said.

"Hi."

"Good morning."

Vince kissed him. "I love you," he said. Now that he'd started saying it, he found it was hard to stop.

Howard beamed at him. "I love you. What time is it?"

"Nine thirty."

"Nine thirty?!" Howard struggled up from under the covers. "Why didn't you wake me?"

"I was making you breakfast!"

"Breakfast?" Howard looked around in terror. "Is the kitchen all right?!"

"Oi," Vince said, and handed him the plate of toast he'd been holding. Howard took it and looked at Vince with disbelief. It was only a tiny bit burnt.

He'd been practicing, after all.

The End.

Epilogue

One Month Later

"Howard. Howard. Howard. Howard. Howard."

"Shhhh, I'm reading."

Vince sighed and turned away from where Howard was hunched over some boring newspaper, deeply engrossed in an article on – Vince didn't know what, but no doubt it was deadly dull, and concerned with jazz. They were on their way to meet Leroy for lunch, but Howard had gotten sidetracked at the newsagent. Vince busied himself by sucking up tapioca pearls from his bubble tea and then blowing them through the straw up into the air and catching them in his mouth. Howard looked up, irritated.

"Stop that, you chipmunk!"

"Well come on! I'm well bored, and we're going to be late."

"Look, if you'll just let me finish reading this, then I'll –" Howard paused, shifty eyed, then pulled Vince over and whispered something into his ear. Vince froze, wide-eyed, and nodded, the corner of his mouth quirking up. Howard gave satisfied smirk and went back to reading his article.

Vince looked around at the street, consciously trying to not be a nuisance. They were in a busy section of Shoreditch High Street, and it was midday; there were swarms of people. He couldn't shake the feeling though that there was someone looking at him. That weird, chilling sensation that he was being watched. He pushed himself up on his toes and looked around.

There.

Above the bobbing heads of the crowds of pedestrians, he saw him.

Dan.

He drew in a breath and forgot to let it out. Dan nodded at him, and gave one of his weird half-smiles, and waved. Vince felt a little dizzy. He raised one hand.

Obviously, it had occurred to him that he would probably run into Dan again at some point. They didn't live all that far away. It was inevitable, really. But he hadn't, so far, and he hadn't called or spoken to Dan since – since that night. He'd wanted to, but he wasn't sure if he should. But ... he wanted to know. What had happened.

Hesitantly, he reached inside his jean pocket, and, checking over his shoulder to make sure Howard was still engrossed in his paper, pulled out his mobile and held it up so that Dan could see it.

Dan nodded.

Vince put the phone away. He was just about to go get Howard and convince him to leave when –

Someone barreled out of the door of the shop Dan was standing near and crashed into him. No, he didn't crash into him. He hugged him. Dan looked down at him and smiled, and laid a hand on his head. For a second, Vince saw his face as he stretched up to kiss Dan. A shiver went through him. It was like he'd taken a glimpse in a funhouse mirror. Jones.

A tension that had developed in his back since he'd spotted Dan suddenly recoiled and he sagged a little, letting out a long sigh.

"You all right there, Vince?" Howard asked. He'd folded up the paper and stuck it in his back pocket. At Vince's smile, he stepped behind him and wrapped his arms around Vince's waist.

"Okay. Just hungry."

"How can you be hungry? You ate all those pancakes this morning."

"Well, I didn't have a choice! You said I had to eat all the ones I'd messed up."

"The last one you made wasn't too bad, at least. You're getting there."

Vince turned around and kissed him. "Thanks," he said. "Let's get going, shall we?"

:::

You have messages. Read?

From: Vince Noir, Rock Star

Ashcroft you plonker are you mad or blind or both? He looks nothing like me.

From: Dan A

I think I saw your Howard in an advert the other day. The decapodal look suits him.

From: Vince Noir, Rock Star

I dunno what that means but thanks :)

From: Dan A

Thank you, too, Vince.

Save?
Messages saved.

------

Notes

Needless to say, I'm really grateful for all of your feedback. You guys are lovely. I hope you enjoyed the ending. <3 And thank you to all of my friends on Twitter for your encouragement. :)

FYI, though I am scared to make any promises, I do have one or two ideas for side stories connected to this world ... maybe one detailing how Dan and Jones were reunited and ... possibly some Denmark adventures. That's all I'll say for now.

AND in case you were dying to know, here is Vince's luggage:

Antler Camden Town Hard-Side Luggage in Silver!

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

From:

the-reverand.livejournal.com

OST!!

"I never thought this would happen to me," Howard said.

That's so sad, Vince thought.

It is... but so sweetly Howard, too! :)

Ashcroft you plonker are you mad or blind or both? He looks nothing like me.

...

I think I saw your Howard in an advert the other day. The decapodal look suits him.

These two lines were brilliant. YAY FOR HAPPY ENDINGS! :D

Edited Date: 2010-05-25 03:30 am (UTC)

From:

Welcome to the Kingdom of Gheydom

Fic: The Proxy (4/4 + Epilogue) [Boosh/Barley crossover, Dan/Vince, Howard/Vince, Dan/Jones]

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