Category: Real Person Fic
Pairing: Noel Fielding/Julian Barratt
Genre: PWP (porn without plot)
Length: 1-5k words
Notes: Written for a prompt from a Boosh anon-meme. Had a little bit too much fun.
Full Service Salon by fecklesslyfine
Julian moved to shut the door behind him before he was even fully inside the flat. The moderately fair afternoon had turned into a dreadful, pissing evening and he was more than eager to leave the chill and wet of the outdoors behind him.
“Noel, you there?”
He’d arrived a bit early, he knew, but sometimes you had to push and prod Noel or he’d never get out of the house on time. There was always one more lock of hair to brush into place, one more belt to try on. He never really listened to Julian’s reasoning that within the hour, he’d have fucked it all up regardless, and anyway, everyone else was too drunk to care. Noel didn’t appreciate his argument, maybe, but it did usually incite him to move a bit quicker, so as to have the lecture over with.
“Noel?” He tried for the third time, shrugging out of his waterlogged coat and slipping off his soggy shoes. “Don’t make me hunt you down like the pheasant you are, Fielding.” He noted the sound of running water—knowing him, Noel was probably still in the shower even though they were due to meet Dave, Mike, Paul, and Rich at the pub in half an hour.
Finally, a laboured response, echoing off tile; “Fuck off, Ju, we both know I’m a quail.”
The bathroom it was, then. Julian laid his coat over the arm of the sofa, as neither Noel or Dee believed in coat racks, and wandered down the hallway. The sound of the water seemed oddly loud and deep the more he approached.
“You’re a partridge in a pear tree, and that’s that,” his flippant remark softened to a murmur as he came to a stop in front of the doorway. Noel wasn’t taking a shower after all. He was bent over the running bath, massaging suds into his hair with a towel draped over his shoulders. Julian took another few steps inside, leaned back against the counter to enjoy the view. Noel was resting his ribs on the edge of the bath as he leaned low, supporting himself with one hand, using the other to shampoo. His back was arched, shirt hanging down to reveal his smooth abdomen, drainpipes stretching tight over his pert arse, slim legs spread in a most accommodating manner. He looked bloody fuckable, put bluntly.
It would figure, Julian reflected, that Noel looked as if he was gagging for it even when he was alone in the flat, doing something as innocent as a last-minute hair washing.
Then again, maybe he was…
“S’hard to talk all bent over like this,” Noel’s voice seemed muffled, lost in the sound of the water.
“Then don’t,” Julian commanded easily, abandoning the countertop. He reached a hand down to palm Noel’s arse, somehow turned on by knowing there was no way his fingers could slip inside those pockets, not like when he was bent like this, fabric so achingly snug.
Noel wiggled his bum in annoyance. “Piss off, I’ve got to get ready, you are not distracting me.”
“Just a friendly greeting,” Julian protested lightly, his hand continuing to run over Noel’s arse, slipping down between his legs and fondling. Noel’s spine tensed, and he let out a low hiss, audible over the running bath.
“Julian,” his voice sounded short of breath from leaning on his ribs, and was dark with warning. “Not now.”
Julian, for his part, thought now was a great idea. He knelt down behind Noel, between his pretty, coltish little legs, gripping a hard, jutting hipbone with one hand and reaching the other around to toy with the button of his fly.
Noel yipped something like, “hey!” and instinctively flung back an arm to swat at him. It happened to be attached to the hand with shampooing duties, and Julian found himself covered in little flecks of shampoo and water. Feeling a droplet dangerously close to his eye, Julian ignored Noel’s protests and swinging arm, leaning in to wipe his face all over the back of Noel’s t-shirt, feeling his nose roll over the hard ridge of Noel’s spine.
“That wasn’t very nice,’ he remarked, enjoying staying cool and collected as Noel became increasingly agitated.
“I’m trying to wash my hair, Ju! C’mon, do you want to get out of here on time or not?” Noel was definitely annoyed now, the sharp edge in his voice unmistakable. “Why don’t you take out your horn on someone else for a change, Christ.”
“Because other people don’t let me fuck them over the edge of the bath,” Julian replied simply, sliding down the zip of Noel’s jeans with some difficulty, given their position. He ignored Noel’s complaints, slipping his hand inside to stroke Noel’s cock through his pants. Noel tried to shake him off one more.
“Bloody stop it, Julian! I’m serious, I haven’t had a chance to wash my hair all day, you are so fucking ridiculous—”
Julian could feel him stiffening, growing hot in his hand, and smiled to himself. Noel could throw a real strop when he wanted to, and he wasn’t quite there yet. This was too good an opportunity to pass up.
He withdrew his hand from Noel’s jeans and in one swift movement, slipped his fingers beneath the waistband of Noel’s pants and tugged them down, hard. Noel yelped in pain and surprise as his hardening cock was caught in the fabric. Julian freed it from its confines before turning his attention back to Noel’s lovely arse.
“I’m fucking serious, Julian—” Noel was interrupted as Julian pushed him further into the tub, forcing him to reach both hands down and catch himself. Julian noted with satisfaction the soapy hair falling down from its messy pile atop Noel’s head, now dangling about his face like wet vines. While Noel cursed him, Julian swiftly spread the firm, smooth arse cheeks, spanning them with his hands, thumbs coming to rest on the little mounds where thigh met buttock. He laved his tongue across the coy little entrance, feeling Noel choke on his words and spasm at the unexpected, sudden contact.
Julian would admit he loved this bit, loved tasting this most secret part of him. And reaching his hand around, groping for Noel’s cock—now quite hard and trapped against the probably painfully cold side of the bath—he knew Noel loved it too. It was one of his many weaknesses, one of the hardest things for him to resist.
“Fuck you,” he heard Noel groan, and his arse cheeks trembled and tightened under his hands. Julian licked harder, more furiously, pushing his tongue inside the tight ring of muscle until Noel was thrashing and bucking underneath him, trapped with nowhere to hide.
Feeling some small amount of mercy, Julian leaned back, licking his lips. He savored the sound of Noel panting, and a small grin reached his mouth when he heard Noel mutter, “you cunt, you’re such a fucking cunt, I swear.”
“C’mon,” Julian said, gripping Noel’s hips to pull him back out of the tub a bit. “Let’s get your hair washed.”
Noel let out a disparaging groan of frustration and let himself be dragged up. A moment later, Julian was standing, had his own pants down around his ankles, and was spitting into his hand. He gave his shaft a meager amount of lubrication before pushing Noel’s back down with one hand, guiding his cock into Noel’s tight arse with the other. The sinful heat clenched around him immediately.
Noel bucked against him and keened, cussing furiously. He tried halfheartedly to pull away, but Julian held his hips firm, thrusting into him as if his life depended on it. Noel clung to the edge of the bath, towel slipping from his shoulders and soapy hair leaving wet patches all over his shirt.
“My fucking hair, Ju,” He moaned, so clearly upset that Julian almost laughed. He released Noel’s hips and reached forward to grab a sopping handful of black silk, yanking Noel’s head back and massaging the shampoo into Noel’s scalp. Noel was caught between a laugh and a moan as Julian rammed his prostate, making him spasm once more.
“Gotta,” he panted. “Gotta rinse it.”
Julian’s response was to grip the back of his neck, shove him down towards the faucet, the angle of his thrusts changing to accommodate. He hunched over Noel, cock driving steadily in and out of him, holding him down while Noel attempted to both free himself and rinse his hair, coughing and spluttering.
“I can’t see,” he wailed. “There’s water all over my face.”
“Good,” was Julian’s only response. “Are you done?”
Noel’s body wobbled with every thrust, and he moaned again. “Gotta condition, you berk.”
He reached blindly for a bottle, Julian eventually pausing in his thrusting to pick one up and squirting it into a hand, reaching for Noel’s hair again and attempting to distribute it through the wet mane as he resumed his motions.
One of Noel’s hands came up to meet his, trying to assist, as if Julian couldn’t do it alone. There was something strangely erotic about feeling Noel’s slippery fingers next to his, sliding through his hair, tangling together. Julian took a fistful of slick strands, pulled back again so Noel had to arch his back, his eyes tightly shut and mouth open in a grimace. His eyelids glittered with water droplets, and Julian could feel himself getting close.
“We’re gonna be late, you fuck,” Noel gritted through his teeth, gasping as Julian thrust into him hard.
“Not if you don’t make us,” Julian replied smoothly, feeling a flush rise to his cheeks and chest. He knew that would get a rise out of Noel—he loved working him up, getting him flustered and upset.
Noel growled, and Julian felt his thin legs tremble. “Just fuckin’ hurry up.”
Julian laughed, smiled and dunked him under the faucet again. Noel squawked, sprawling forward and bracing himself inside the bath as the water drenched not only his hair, but his shoulders, face and chest. Julian, satisfied, reached around to give Noel’s cock attention. It was rock hard and the head was slick with precome. He slid his thumb in it, thrusting his hand up and down Noel’s shaft in time with the movements of his hips.
Noel bucked against him, cursed him, cried out as Julian fucked him with complete abandon, slamming into him again and again until he was so close, god he was so close.
He brought back his hand to lick it, then worked Noel’s cock hard until the other man was juddering and shrieking and clenching around him, the tight heat too much, all too much and Julian came with a loud groan, thrusting frantic and erratic.
His hips stilled after a few moments; feeling spent, Julian pulled out, backing up to let Noel regain a bit of his dignity. The younger man slumped against the tub, groped about for a towel to dry his eyes with. When he turned to glare at Julian, his dark tendrils of hair curling around his face, his eyes were hard, glittering with anger and very clearly rimmed with lust.
“You couldn’t have fucking waited,” he spat, face flushed. He wiped himself furiously with the towel, rising to strip off his sodden t-shirt. His erection bobbed against his abdomen, angry at being forgotten. Julian handed him the blow dryer, which he snatched irritably, stalking over to the sink.
“I could really fucking kill you sometimes,” he growls, but Julian knows he’s won as he sinks to his knees in front of Noel and sees the lust in his eyes.
“A blow while you blow, then,” He reasons, and Noel’s laugh escapes him, despite his best efforts. Julian takes Noel’s hard cock into his mouth, savors the taste.
They are forty minutes late.