Based on this loverly picture/video by phoon


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Genre: ,




Length: words

Notes: I hate this quite alot. This is a series of firsts for me. Its my first boosh fic, my first rps and my first fic in about five month. I’m a tad rusty. forgive me.This isnt beta-ed so, (constructive)critisim is welcomed. Also, apologies for the crappy title/any ocness/general rambly crapness… Oh yes. and i abuse commas horribly, so please please let me know if there are too many/they’re inappropriately placed etc. It ends and begins rather abruptly too. Again, i apologise. err. I’ve just realised this could count as a slight tour spoiler, though I havent seen the show either yet.

Finale by prettythings

“Alrigh’?” Noel intoned, a nervous smile playing over his garishly painted face.

“Ye… Yeah. Yes.” Julians reply stuck in his throat. The close proximity of his and Noels faces was horribly distracting; he could barely stand, let alone produce a coherent reply. He shifted nervously and glanced at the director, one hand gently cupping Noels cheek, the other nervously hovering somewhere in the vicinity of his tutu. Paul held up five fingers, indicating five seconds until the curtains were parted revealing the finale of the show, Howard and Old Greggs’ kiss.

Julian cleared his throat and turned his gaze back to Noel. He wished almost immediately that he hadn’t, looking directly into those wide blue eyes gazing almost amorously at him would have caused even the manliest of men to swoon. At this distance he could practically count Noels eyelashes. He wondered for a moment if Noel was wearing mascara, and then he wondered how he managed to look beautiful, even under a thick layer of green face paint. Julian cleared his throat once more.

“Come on then, little man.” He whispered, feigning confidence. He tightened his lips and leaned in for an exaggerated stage kiss. Noel inclined his head, his lips soft and loose playing gently at the corner of Julian’s mouth. The hot tickle of Noels breath across his cheek banished every rational thought from Julians mind, and suddenly, as if unable to control himself, he tilted his head and claimed Noels lips with his own.

Julian half expected some resistance, the tightening of Noels mouth against his, Noel pulling away, storming off, outraged, maybe he would even hit him! He was pleasantly surprised to feel the younger mans lips return the pressure, to see his eyes fluttering closed. Julian inclined his face, deepening the kiss, his tongue skittering across Noels bottom lip tasting greasepaint, flavoured lip-gloss and sweat. One hand danced wildly over Noels hip, the other sifting frantically through his… seaweed. Julian pulled Noel closer, enjoying the warmth and nearness of his body, he didn’t want this to end; he could feel Noels lips parting against his own and then…

Suddenly the warmth of Noels body was ripped from him, and his partner turned away, a wide slow grin breaking across his painted face. Julian blinked blindly, and stumbled in the opposite direction, abruptly realising that the curtains had been drawn and they were standing in front of an audience of thousands and had been for some time. The reality of the situation rushed back. Mimicking Noel, Julian moved to centre stage. He dimly registered the raucous cheers of the crowd, the bright, hot glow of the stage lights and the oddly distant sounds of Noel thanking everyone for coming.

“We hope you enjoyed the show!” Julian heard himself say, his mouth apparently disconnected from his mind, which was focusing singularly on Noels hand within his own. He bowed numbly, his fingers still locked around Noels, and stepped backwards as the curtains fell once more. The younger man turned towards him and, letting go of his hand, wrapped his arms over Julians shoulders, seemingly deaf to the muffled thunder of applause that roared on from behind the thick velvet curtain.

“So,” he began, his grin still intact, “Where were we?”

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