All Change

Noel gets a late-night visitor in the shape of a drunk Julian. One gentle kiss and a few hours sleep later, will it have been forgotten in a cloudy hangover? Time passes and things change, but how?

Category:

Characters: ,

Pairing:

Genre: ,

Rating:

Status:

Length: words

Ebony and Ivory

Contents

Ebony and Ivory

“Wow.”

“You like it?”

“It’s… different.”

Noel looked crestfallen, and Julian hurried to reconcile things. “But different good. It’s a good contrast, style suits you.” Noel’s eyes lit up again, one hand rising to ruffle the part in question-his newly-dyed hair, raven black and feathered all the way to his shoulders. Julian had done a double-take on entering the dressing room, as had the assembled early-arrived crew when they’d first seen the new Noel. Everywhere he went today, at least three pairs of eyes were following him; but Julian knew that Noel wouldn’t mind. He’d be loving it, attention and connecting to people through his newest spur-of-the-moment decision.

The more Julian looked, the more he realised how accurate his hasty comments were. Soft black curls brushed against pale, angular cheekbones, providing a beautiful contrast akin to the keys on Julian’s keyboard. A symphony of distraction through asymmetry, but melding to create an almost doll-like elegance. Ebony and ivory, hair and skin.

“Didn’t half scare our mum,” came Mike’s soft murmur from somewhere near Julian’s elbow. The younger Fielding had already been through makeup and costume, only spoiling the shaman illusion by baring his natural hairstyle and glasses instead of Naboo’s silky bob. That looked more out-of-place than his older brother’s new image, Julian thought absently. “Anyway,” Mike started again. “Christine’s waiting for you with a big paintbrush.”

Julian chuckled, though he could easily picture the cheery makeup artist waving her paintbrush around, conjouring their characters into being like Mickey Mouse enchanting those brooms in Fantasia. “Can’t wait til Chris gets a look at him,” he said glibly.


The hours in makeup to become Dennis the Head Shaman (it was always capitalised in his head-professional, like) seemed to pass far quicker today. Maybe it was because Christine’s new paintbrush drew out the intricate lines smoothly first time round, or perhaps he’d been lulled into a deep, zen-like relaxation by her up-beat banter and chiding of the man behind the big news on set.

“..I mean, what a difference! He looks his age more now, but still doesn’t quite look like a bloke. That’s probably the feathering though, looks more like…”

The long day of filming didn’t seem as long today either, even though they were only just starting out on this second series. Everyone was in a lighthearted mood, and there were more than a few slip-ups to give them all a good chuckle. Before they knew it Paul was calling time and the set was being dressed for the next day’s scenes. Julian drifted back to makeup, eyes starting to itch from the contact lenses that whited out his irises.

“Alright Dennis?”

The room was empty save for Noel, sitting innocently in what was usually Julian’s chair. And grinning that wolfish grin of his. After all these years, that grin could still slay any unrest with just one look.

“Not so bad thanks, Joan Jett,” he retorted, eliciting a belt of laughter from the wry young man. Moving to stand behind the chair, Julian pulled at various strands with a quizzical look. Noel yelped a ‘gerroff me hair!’ and squirmed, complaining that he’d ‘mess up the carefully shaped layers and destroy an hour’s worth of hard work’.

“Hard work!” Julian scoffed, giving the black crop a final ruffle. “All you need to do is rake your fingers through it like you do a thousand times a day anyway and you’d do.”

“As if!” was Noel’s indignant response, softened by that grin. “If anything it takes longer now-fringe has to be straight, layers not too curly but all defined and stuff. It’s serious business!”

The stopped, realising they’d fallen into a typical Howard-Vince conversation again. They shared a laugh, looking at one another in the mirror.

“It does work though,” Julian said quietly. Noel chewed his lip slightly.

“You think?”

“Yeah. Look a bit more like your age now.”

“You nicked that off Christine.”

“Maybe I did, but its true.”

“Not too old though?”

“Hmm….”

Noel reached over the back of the chair and slapped Julian’s arm playfully. “Cheeky sod!”

Silence followed, the two of them going back to looking at each other in the mirror.

“Scary seeing you with those contacts in.”

Obediently, Julian leant closer in to his reflective and toyed with them until they lay in his hand. Noel plucked them from his palm and dropped them into their pods of solution, then looked back into the mirror with a satisfied nod.

“Much better. I like the real you better.”

Julian smiled, but at the same time felt that same aching feeling low in his chest that he’d felt the morning after that fateful stag party. Was it a squirm of discomfort as the open compliment, some strange reaction towards this vocalised affection?

Noel was standing up, studying Julian’s face closely. “You alright?”

It took him a few seconds, but he replied “Yeah, fine.” Noel was laughing again.

“Can’t even take a compliment! What are you like!”

In one fluid movement he’d knelt back on the chair and spun it round to face the still-bemused Julian.

“You’re such a tease,” Noel added coyly, stretching up to give his friend a poke-as Julian bent down to ruffle Noel’s hair for the insult.

They crashed in the middle. But it wasn’t the slow-motion vignetted film meeting that Noel found ‘sweet’ while it made Julian squirm. It was a collision that just seemed to linger, Noel staring up into wide brown eyes and Julian surprised at the softness of the young man’s lips. Each waited for the other to pull away in horror-but neither did. Both succumbed to the longing of feeling their lips moving against each other in a gentle kiss, teasing and tentative, exploring.

Noel broke away first, blue eyes alight. Julian straightened up, lips still tingling.

I’m a tease?” Julian asked softly.

+ posts