Chapter 1: Lazy Sunday Mornings
I can't help but bathe in the warm golden light as it floods through my window. Lazily I stretch my arm across the bed, touching the warm body just to my side, fingers gracing the side of their body. The bed sheets are of course wrapped wildly around my body, almost as if a hurricane had come during the night. I can't help but smile as my dreary eyes open to the man beside me, hooking my foot around his as he continues to sleep. Honestly, I don't get much of an opportunity to watch Howard in this state, face no longer contorted with hard lines etched into his face. Relaxed and calm. My head still feels like I'm coming off the amazing high of the night before. All hazy yet happy, like a wild out of body experience. Almost like taking a drug, well unless you consider Howard one then i'm definitely coming down from an amazing high. His eyes scrunch together and it almost takes me by surprise, I was pretty used to watching him asleep by now.
"Mornin'" Howard slurred, rolling his body onto his stomach. His large hand absently running down my abdomen as he readjusted his position. I just want to smile again, and again and forever. The high is back already and I am shamelessly addicted.
"Mornin' ya big nonce," I squealed when he poked me in the stomach, I almost fell off the bed even! When I looked back at him he was just looking at me and laughing "Oi, not funny I almost died!"
"No, you didn't Vince" He just looks at me with a grin as I do my best to pout, which he just grins bigger at. "aww, did I hurt poor Vincey's feelings?" I continue to pout, not breaking eye contact as he leans forward, right up close so I can feel his breath tickling my nose. "Do you want me to kiss it better," My facade breaks and I can't help but grin from ear to ear. He firmly places his lips against mine and I can still taste my own chapstick from the night before as we begin to move together, his arms are wrapped around my body and I feel safe. My fingers are running through his hair and I mentally note to remember to cut it again. When he pulls away he places a small peck in the corner of my mouth.
"Mmm, all better," For a moment I never want to leave the bed, I wish we could lay around all day. Maybe do couple more rounds before the sun sets and lay awake all night saying no more than a handful of words. Of course, that would never work, we don't do silence. Maybe we could just talk all night. Well and the other major flaw where we actually have to work... or we pretend we caught the flu. The feeling of Howard's fingers running up and down my spine break my daydream. "do you think Naboo would notice if we disappeared for the day?"
"Yes," He continues to touch my body as I keep my arms firmly around him.
"Can we disappear for the day?" I ask, slightly more hopeful this time.
"Did you expect anything else," We both grin before falling back into the covers.
Chapter 2: The Lion, The Witch and The Bloodied Face
"You look like shit," Howard stood there in utter shock of what had happened to the man in front of him. Crimson littered the man's once flawless porcelain skin as ugly patches of purple covered the rest. He looked so ruined like he'd burst into tears at any moment.
"Vince, what the fuck happened?" The taller man was instantly across the room and helping Vince onto the couch. He had to look away as the raven-haired man's face contorted in pain as he lay on the couch. Howard forced his mind away from the idea of Vince's purple body.
"You see there was this giant pigeon, I think his name was something like Larry... well anyway he was like 'hey i can give you this limited edition straightener banned in 44 countries' and I was like 'hell yeah' so he took me to the top of this building where all his pigeon friends hang out. Only they transported me into this whole different univer-" Howard pressed his finger to Vince's lips and silenced him. They both knew it was a lie, after all, they'd been through you could tell. It sounded phoney to both their ears
"Little man c'mon. What happened?" His voice sounded sad and pleading to his own ears. The blue-eyed boy's eyes faltered for a moment, he took a sigh through his broken lips. Howard took one last moment to gaze over the crusted blood that had poured from his nose, as well as the uneven brownish tinges to areas not fully purple. It was frustrating.
"These guys o'viously didn't know style when they see it," Vince bit "Beat me up on the way back calling me a 'faggot' over and over with each kick till I was coughing blood," He wiped his yellow tinted eye for a moment, wiping away a trace of what appeared to be a tear. Both men could feel the pure anger radiating from Howard, his jaw clenched and his fists balled. "Can we please forget about it 'oward?" The bigger man screwed his eyes tight, taking a few deep breaths. He couldn't let his anger get to him but he had an overwhelming urge to Chinese burn himself. Not now that Vince needed his help.
"Okay, but if I ever see them I will probably kill them"
"Like you could kill anyone," Vince tried to joke but he noticed the dangerous glint in his best friend's eyes and he knew there was no joke in his voice.
Vince's nose was no longer swollen, as his lips had returned back to their smooth state. Only the crusted over skin remained while his eye had mostly healed besides the slight discolouration. He was back to his confident glowing aura Howard was far more familiar. The younger man's foundation hiding most of what had happened only a couple nights ago. Howard had tried to honour Vince's wishes but every time he saw Vince wince sitting down from his bruised ribs, he wanted to punch the nearest wall. Usually, he wasn't a violent man, an artist, a lover but right now he could kill someone. Of course, once Vince was relatively healed he wanted to take his best friend out. Usually, Howard would make up and excuse (like he had to organise his post stamp collection) but now when it was offered he was immediately on his feet.
That's where they are now, patrolling the markets. The taller man's larger arms filled with things he never knew existed while his partner in crime excitedly babbled on about almost every item he could lay his hands on. The words fluttering in and out of his ears in a muffled jumble. Everything became ridiculously loud when Vince stopped talking.
Three men dressed in what could only be described as douchebag clothing. Tank tops too small for them as backwards snapbacks sat on top of their ray band clad heads. He could instantly tell who they were, his blood boiling on the spot as his jaw clenched so tightly it might've broken.
"Howard, it's okay, let's just go." the vulnerability wavering through his best friend's voice was the last straw. He pushed the items into Vince's already full arms and marched over, fuming from every corner as his friend tried getting him to stop.
"oi, look at this big man, bruf" The first man barely got the sentence out before Howard was swinging right across his face.
"Touch Vince again and I'll mess you up 'bruf' i am a man of dignity, but you deserve none of that. Good Day" Howard was about to turn when he saw the glint of a ring being swung, he pulled his arms up and blocked the swing, retaliating by poking his fingers at the man's eye. The third just seemed to have disappeared however as the other two stood back up.
"Whateva, he just a dumb fag anyway, not worth it," he stood there in shock as to what he'd done. He'd beat up two strong men. Well, he was a man of action. Turning around finally, he saw Vince standing there. An unreadable expression painted on his face through the large pile of clothes in his hands still. He took a step forward to Howard. Eye's not once breaking eye contact. It took a moment for Howard to process what happened, Vince dropped the clothes instead reaching up to wrap his arms around the bigger man's neck. Placing a hard kiss to his lips. The thought of 'don't touch me' died inside his head as he wrapped his arms around Vince's hips.
Chapter 3: Sickness
They're not actually together in this one-shot, but definitely, like into each other.
My whole entire body felt congested. I was on fire. I was freezing. The light hurt my eyes as they opened. My body stuck to everything as I was engulfed in a thick layer of sweat. I tried to sit up, to push off the blankets that were suffocating me only I was met with pain. Fumbling, I managed to kick the duvet off me. Which didn't exactly help, but it was a step up. Checking the time, only to find out it was 3 am. What was going on? My throat, oh god. Two stones grinding together every time I swallowed, which now seemed to be every second.
"Howard," I cringe at the noise that makes, hoarse and certainly not loud enough. I need him, oh god I need my best friend right now. I'm not one to admit this, especially not to his face, but I'm fucking scared. Swinging my legs off the side of the mattress seems like my best bet. My head only seems to lag behind, sending nausea crashing into me. Throwing up off the side of the bed does nothing to ease anything. Only make a mess and leave a vile acid taste in my mouth.
"Howard!" it's no better this time, only I can feel the begging in my voice as tears sting the backs of my eyes. I slide my feet onto the floor. Slow. Okay now, in and out. In, out. It calms my nerves a little. I begin to stand, cautious as I can. Hoping the whole time that there isn't a repeat. Only my legs give out this time, sending me crashing back down to my bed. Ringing in my head, it is about to explode. Alas, I try again.
One, the other. One, the other. My eyes are trained to my feet, making sure they move correctly and slowly. I make it two steps before my body catches up. The sweat runs down my neck and for once I couldn't care about my prized hair, my head is far too fuzzy to worry about that right now.
"'Oward," I fumble the door open, my hands shaking too much to properly open it. He's still asleep in the bed, snoring away softly. I say his name once more. That doesn't grab his attention. The crash I make as I collapse certainly does.
"Vince?" He looks terrified. I mean he should be, I just collapsed on his floor covered in sweat and traces of vomit. When I try to speak once more, it comes out as wheezes. He thankfully scrambled out of the bed to pick me up. "Little Man, you're burning up!" No shit, thank you for that wonderful diagnosis doctor. Howard half carries me back to my room, laying me on the sheets I not so long ago kicked off me. He looks quite shocked to see the vomit, well it might be shocked, he's a bit out of focus. Cleaning up my vomit doesn't look fun but he does it anyway. I'll have to thank him for that. It is replaced with a bucket. Yay! a vomit bucket. How lovely! I might've blacked out for a little because next thing I know, Naboo is staring at me.
"Seems he's just got a very bad flu," He checks a small bag I assume he's brought with him. He takes out some weird hoodoo stuff, mixes it up in front of me. Forget my previous statement on the vomit bucket. It's great. Naboo gives me the potion and I down it. Hey, no reflux.
"That shoul' keep the fever down and may help with stomach problems. It can't fix everythin'," I give my best smile as he leaves.
"Got me worried for a moment there" he chuckles to himself, the nervous kind. Using my voice still sends daggers through my throat so I settle with nodding. "I guess I'll be going," Howard stands to leave and I panic.
"Wait!" Ow, fuck. He thankfully does stop, reeling his ass back to the edge of the mattress.
"I'll stay till you fall asleep, alright?" I nod once more, maybe a little too excitedly.
Howard tells me these fantastical stories about wild adventures, even some jazz history while I don't have the strength to shut him up. My shaking fingers draw circles along the back of his hand while his absentmindedly stroke the backs of my legs. Peaceful. I try to keep listening but it's jazz and my body is exhausted. My eyes shut and although the thumping in my head is still there, it's a little more bearable with him.
Chapter 4: art thing,
not a one-shot but it's ugly and gay as heck
Chapter 5: Howard’s working for the drug squad
More saddness! Buckle up bitches!
I must admit that my heart stops every time one of the members of the squad mention the address of the next bust. It was ridiculously familiar as it was the same address Vince disappears to every now and again. Of course, I know what my boyfriend does there, he goes for hours before texting me to pick him up. Every time coming down from a massive high. Only today he said he was going over there, less than an hour ago. My fingers tightly grip the gun in front of me. I can't help but cross my fingers and pray that none of the squad gets to him before I do.
The building is the same as i'm used to once we arrive, a looming seemingly abandoned warehouse. Blended well into it's equally as eerie surroundings, shattered glass glittering like diamonds beneath my feet from the broken windows the many buildings along the street possess. Our leader barks commands into our ears but they blur together in a muffled jumble, my mind clearly somewhere else. I manage to catch the end of the group members i'm with before we're crouched in position. I can feel the sweat build around my collar as my eyes scan the police force gathered around the other door.
It's chaos, we storm into the room. Immediately seizing 4 men who seemed to be high off their mind on the couch, voices booming at them demands as their hazy minds struggled to comprehend. My team and I don't get to see what happens next as we are soon storming up the stairs, my mental clocking ticking away at the back of my mind. My gun sits uncomfortably in the nook of my shoulder prepared to be pulled into action. The group leader instructs us to split up. Men that I can't even remember the name of flood off in my direction. I keep hearing shouts and screams of shock but I keep an ear out most of all for gunshots. Finally, i'm alone.
The floor creaks and groans at each footstep. I can feel the sweat dripping down my face as my teeth clench painfully together. Each room I check is empty, paint peeling down the walls as rust seeps from the windowsills and door frames. No Vince. I reach the end hallway, a single window at the end accompanying a single door. My team seem far away, no more shouts, no more footsteps. Utter silence and I fear that Vince has been found. The door clicks before I push the steel door open, half expecting another empty room. Honestly, I almost cry. He is laying there, asleep and out of his mind. I rush over, forgetting the heavy gun and discarding it off to the side.
"Vince! Vince, are you okay?" I run my hands over his porcelain white face, tracing the soft lines etched into his skin. He groans as his eyes squeeze shut, not in pain but from being disrupted from his slumber.
"... 'oward?" His voice is clumsy and he slurs. I get a glimpse of his crystalline blue eyes under his heavy eyelids as he smiles. "This is a... weird... thing" His head flops around as he tries to come to his senses.
"Vince this is real, you've gotta go. Right now," The words don't seem to process through his mind, merely go in one ear and out the other.
"Oooh I get it, you're in your uniform. Are we gonna have some kinky sex or what?" Taking a moment to sigh, I look at him before shaking him. It does a bit of the job as his eyes seem to be wide now, his pupils still heavily dilated but it would have to do.
"Vince, listen to me. This is a drug raid. you are in danger, there's an exit, two doors down. Get yourself together immediately, leave and go to the nearby park and wait on the bench to come down. I'll pick you up when I can" His puppy eyes stare at me as he nods intently. After helping him up, I quickly leave, sparing only a moment to watch him uncoordinatedly try to put on a jacket.
i'm still shaky by the time we're home. I can see him collapsed on the couch as I pace looking almost like a corpse had found its way onto my couch. He doesn't look good and I have no idea what he took. His blue eyes dull and I swear he has broken into a fever with how much he's sweating. All I can think to do is rip the skin off from around my nails in the hope that it's just him coming down from the high. When I can taste a sharp salty taste seep into my mouth it shakes me from my paranoid trance, taking a moment to look at the redness drip into the nailbed.
"Vince, please tell me what it was," His head just rolls around and he slurs something incomprehensible, I only have one choice. I hate to do this but I have to, He needs the hospital immediately.
There is nothing comforting about sitting in a hospital, it's chaotic. Blinding lights like daggers boring its way into my eyes, shouts and beeps from every corner of my mind and the taste of blood heavy in my mouth. Twice, he threw up twice on the way here and i'm so glad I brought him here. It's such a horror but I was so stupid. It was, of course, an Overdose. Possibly LSD, he's told me about it a couple times.
A woman in her mid-twenties walks up to me, clad in white with a clipboard securely in her hands. I look up and swallow hard while she does her best to send a comforting smile.
"he's currently asleep but I need to ask you some questions on what he might've taken and when he might've taken it just to give us a better idea. He was unfortunately unresponsive when we tried," Her voice seems empathetic, probably a new nurse or doctor.
"Well, umm. I think it may be LSD, i'm not too sure but when I tried to ask he was slurring. He did show some symptoms but it could fit something else, but he has mentioned taking it. I think he had it about," I look down at my watch and almost choke on my breath. It was a birthday present for my 25th birthday, he painted a kids watch and gave it to me. Engraving the strap with 'I love you'. "a.. about. Just over an hour ago". I answered a couple of questions before she disappeared back into the hospital. Just missing the moment in which my heart shattered into pieces and I crumbled into tears.
Personally, Howard found the circus psychics and wand twirlers hilariously dull. As a boy he’d wanted to join the circus as a magician with his deck of cards, studied every book and practiced till his fingers bled. Then he got bored of it and forgot about the deck of cards in his old closet.
Men on stilts thudded by like unstable elephants while naive children danced along to tunes being played, most likely by the huge speakers hauled up on the poles. Trash flashed by as miserable looking clowns tried to be funny for the kids who thankfully seemed entranced.
He entered one of the tents. The “freak show” of sorts. Crab men scattered around their areas while long armed Louise paraded around with her,, well... long arms.
The space was far too crowded and dark for him, the only lights around were on the attractions and none on the pathway. A real tripping hazard.
Howard smiled as he locked eyes on what he was looking for. “Vince the Death Speaker” next to a much shorter man in brightly coloured robes “Naboo the enigma” read an empty painted stall next door.
You see, Howard wasn’t just a big skeptic, he was a professional one. The biggest journalist in debugging and exposing psychics as well as “real” magicians. He began walking, talking larger strides than he had before. The taller man adjusted his woven hat before speaking.
“I’d like a reading,” Vince slowly turned around. His black bushy hair covering up most of his face, but what was noticeable was his absurd fashion choice. Red off the shoulder shirt, skinny jeans or even leggings, with how tight they seemed to fit, and silver ankle boots. It was outrageous from where Howard was standing, or from where anyone else was standing.
“Perfect!” His voice admittedly was a bit of a shock, a lot harsher than expected. He was quickly lead behind some bedazzled curtains and into a cramped room filled with things from raven wings to frangapani. Howard took the nearest seat. “You are aware that it’s a pay first kind of thing?”
“Yes sir,” Digging into his pocket, Howard produced £100.
“Tits, you want a really thorough reading,” the dark haired boy greedily snatched the money from the table, shoving it into a small box on top of a repurposed dresser. “Hand,” Howard was cautious in placing his own hand in a stranger’s but he complied.
There had been 5 deaths in his whole life, both his grandparents of old age and his father at 12. 6 if you count the old dog. That one probably hit the most.
The psychic was silent for a moment, which was surprisingly uncommon. They’d usually be chanting nonsense or “sensing something by now”. He must’ve spoken too soon because Vince was wildly twitching. When his eyes opened once more they were a milky white, no iris, no pupil. Howard watched as they faded back into his empty eyes.
“That was one hell of a ride. I asked around. Who would you like to speak to Mr Howard Moon. One of your grandparents, your dad or your dog?” He almost fell off his chair. There was literally none of the shit that commonly happens. None of the guessing like “I see a man, his name is something like...” nor did the younger man in front of him get told his real name. His only accessible name is H. Moon. He stared for a good while.
“How about, you’re dad. You lost him pretty-“
“Oh my god I’m so sorry,” In frantic panic to stop Vince from contacting his father, he might have pushed him over.
“That’s a bit of a first,” the psychic groaned, pushing the older man away. “What was that for?”
“I.. uh.. panicked?” The blue eyed boy rolled his eyes.
“I mean it’s not the worst thing that’s happened, some guy pulled a knife on me because he thought I was the devil,”
“Oh, oh no. That’s,, uh,, unfortunate,”
“Do you always sound like a robot with a stick up it’s arse or is it just me?” Howard sheepishly smiled, he was acting quite robotic now that he thought about it. “Little embarrassed? What? Thought your could debunk me in a little magazine,” his face shot up.
“How’d you know that?” Vince could see the mans tiny eyes narrow.
“Chill, you’re grandma told me. Lovely lady. She’s invited me round for tea,” that certainly eased the tension as the moustached man began to laugh.
“You’re not too bad I guess Vince.”
“I’ll take that with pride. Do I get a certificate I can hang up ‘certified psychic by the biggest asswipe,” Howard rolled his eyes “the biggest pedo in the country” he bit his tongue to stifle a laugh, scowling instead “kiddy fiddler?”
“I’m not a pedophile! I’m a man of dignity!” He exclaimed as Vince rolled his head back grinning.
“Alright nana nonce,”
“Where’d you even get to these conclusions?!”
“The moustache and the... no just the moustache.”
“Well I’m not a patty peeper, I prefer my partners full sized and sophisticated,”
In the moment Vince finally realised how close they actually were to each other. Howard didn’t seem to mind.
“Are you okay with...?”
“Fucking perfect,” the psychic hastily leant in. Why? Who knows? It’s gay? Their lips met and Vince was momentarily shocked at the feeling of a moustache tickling his upper lip. It quickly faded as an awkward smack of lips, fading into tongue and an accidental teeth incident. Howard’s large hands trailed along the other mans back, a little down past his back for a bit of a scope. “Cheeky, I hope your granny’s stopped watching by now,” he giggled, shooting a glance over Howard’s shoulder, like he was checking just in case.
“Well that’s her problem now,”
((I don’t know where to end this, if you want smut of this lemme know.))