Fic: The Trouble with Leaving Vince

[illumnaughty.livejournal.com]

Title: The Trouble with Leaving Vince
Word Count: 915
Characters/Pairing: Howard/Vince
Summary: Howard always leaves. He never gets very far.
Rating: PG
Disclaimer: If I owned Howard and Vince, the subtext would no longer be text.
Author's Comments: I guess this sort-of wraps up a loose trilogy beginning with this fic and continuing with this one. Expect to get diabeetus.

 

This is the trouble with leaving Vince.

He’ll get distracted by a shiny object, a new band, even a sweet, and Howard will be chucked.

Not just chucked. Pummeled, humiliated, molested, shaved, painted, or any number of unpleasant things that happen around Vince but never to Vince. He might get angry. He might even cry. Sometimes, when he feels he’s had enough, he’ll leave. Not simple slam-the-door, shouting and stomping leaving, but he’ll leave. Take his things and vamoose. Promise himself he’s never coming back. Put as much distance between himself and Vince as possible.

Of course, he never gets far.

This time, Vince winds up with a pallet of energy drinks and a Frisbee, and Howard gets a shoe to the head. He shakes his finger at Vince, jaw working, mouth moving, but the words all bunch up in his throat. He jams his hat on his head, takes some jazz records and the half of the tea he’s paid for, and announces he’s leaving. Vince nods like he’s just said he’s going to pop round to the shop, immersed in the 2:30 issue of Cheekbone. He asks if Howard could close the door, there’s a bit of a breeze.

Howard just sort of stands there in a speechless rage, before half a box of Typhoo goes sailing at Vince’s head and the door slams so hard the glass wobbles.

Howard lets his steaming rage propel him like some sort of…rage-steamy thing. He seethes all the way down the street, promising himself he’ll get away and stay away. Forever.

Of course, you need money to do that. So he ends up working at a fruit stand just down the street from the Nabootique. Naboo and Bollo pass by often, “running errands” and barely trying to hide their laughter. He tells the fruit stand manager that their location has been attracting the wrong kind of business, and suggests a move. They move. Right across from the Nabootique.

Now Howard grits his teeth and stands behind the splintery wood counter, trying not to frighten people with his sales pitch. He has to watch each day as Vince operates the shop with maddening ease, while an old woman throws day-old satsuma’s at him because he doesn’t carry cucumbers (sorry, vegetable, madam, not fruit.) Howard finds it difficult to retreat from his past when it’s staring him in the face, harder still while weighing out a poundsworth of Granny Smith apples, but he tries anyway. And then, finally, Vince deigns to look across the street.

The visits start shortly thereafter.

Vince saunters up to the counter, talking shop as if Howard had been gone an hour rather than a week. He rolls a kiwi in his palms, talking about a really brilliant band or some outlandish footwear that caught his eye, and Howard pretends to be busy. After that he replies in short, terse sentences. When that doesn’t get the message across, he tries shooting Vince exasperated looks. Finally he resorts to listing his grievances(alphabetically, if possible) with Vince in his head, while he avoids saying anything.

Vince doesn’t seem to notice. He finishes up whatever tidbit he was saying, nods and leaves with a “catch you later, Howard.” Then the next day he’s back in some outlandish ensemble with feathers in the collar and lamé trim like some sort of disco magpie. And he sits and he talks and Howard holds out for a little longer today, but not that much.

And then after a few days the presents start.

Howard finds them tucked into corners of the stand when he locks up for the night, hidden beneath displays of oranges, and eventually on the windowsill of the basement flat he was living in.(only place he could afford on fruit-stand wages.)

They’re little things, shiny gewgaws or sweets perhaps, often with a crumpled note saying things like:

Howard

Thot you mite like this, its got marzipan in.

p.s. dont eat the leevs, ther just dekeraton.

Howard crumples them into tiny balls, throws them on the ground, and stomps on them.

He ducks into the back when he sees Vince coming, though since the back is exactly eight inches of clearance between the wall and the rough plywood of the stand it doesn’t amount to much. Howard takes to walking on his days off, trying to go as far as his feet will carry him from that cursed street. Vince still manages to run into him frequently, but it’s much easier for Howard to duck into a pub or an alleyway or a sewer drain.

Howard tries to think as little about Vince as he can, even when Vince just won’t leave him in peace. He tries to cling to the irritation in his gut, the anger in his liver, even as the memory slips away.

But finally, one morning, it will happen.

Howard will wake up. And he won’t be angry anymore. He’ll be able to think of Vince without wanting to throttle his pretty neck. He’ll go to open the stand and Vince will be there, and they’ll have a conversation like they always do. Maybe they’ll argue about music styles, and maybe they’ll talk about food. Neither will apologize, and neither will mention what they were fighting about. They’ll be friends again.

And Howard will be back, the ever-present foil to Vince’s charms, until it comes time to storm off again.

 But not too far. He could never really leave completely, anyway. Vince won’t let him.

Comments

[beeb-almighty.livejournal.com]

D'awww.

That is all. :)

[beeb-almighty.livejournal.com]

P.S. - I love Vince's mad spelling skillz.

[illumnaughty.livejournal.com]

Lol thanks, that was probably the hardest part XD

[mandybling.livejournal.com]

Precious!

[tehfanglyfish.livejournal.com]

Adorable and sweet!!!

[pitpony13.livejournal.com]

Cute! I love that Vince's apologies are just sweets and a note.

[illumnaughty.livejournal.com]

I love it too, he's like a little boy with a crush who doesn't know how to show it. ;)

[ftw302.livejournal.com]

Awww. This is such an unhealthy relationship XD XD XD

But they love eachother <3 Vince is just too dumb to keep up a relationship

[illumnaughty.livejournal.com]

ikr, they're so adorably dysfunctional!

[voodoohedghog.livejournal.com]

I find this plausible, and cute. It's very "third season" Boosh IMHO. I'm with ftw -- Vince just doesn't have the brain cells required to register that a break-up has occurred. Also from his point of view Howard is just being moody, probably. AW!!!! Thinking about this stuff......cutecutecute. :D

Oh and only Howard likes marzipan. It's a very Howardy thing to like!

[illumnaughty.livejournal.com]

Thanks, that was exactly my take on it: either Vince is oblivious or he pretends to be until Howard cools off, crafty minx ;)

[agentadvocate.livejournal.com]

Unhealthy relationship indeed, but we all love it so. I always enjoy your stuff, mate. Your writing in this was the marzipan dekeraton unto my life today; sweet, short & didn't angry up my liver ♥

[illumnaughty.livejournal.com]

*squee* Thank you, I try not to rile up people's livers. ;)