Green Hours

Category: Real Person Fic

Characters: Julian Barratt, Noel Fielding, Russell Brand

Pairing: Noel Fielding/Julian Barratt

Genre: Drama, PWP (porn without plot)

Rating: NC-17

Warning: Smut (graphic sex scenes)

Status: Complete

Length: 5-10k words

Chapter 1

Chapter 1

“I have company,” Noel tells him as soon as he opens the door.

“Will I embarrass you in front of your friends?” Julian asks with a smile. He is momentarily thrown by Noel’s dull greeting. For all his quirks, Noel is generally a predictable creature, at least where his interactions with Julian are concerned. Despite his seeming reservations, Noel still gestures Julian inside and takes his coat.

He’s not sure what he expected, Chris and the girls, maybe, or just some of the endless unfamiliar names in Noel’s mobile, but certainly not Russell Brand, one ankle resting on a knee and his arm draped lazily along the back of the sofa.

“Julian Barratt,” Russell exclaims excitedly, half-rising to grasp Julian’s hand and squeeze it briefly. “Lovely to see you. I rudely dropped in on Noel unannounced. I hope I’ve not inconvenienced any plans.” Russell talks too quickly for Julian to do anything but smile wanly. Looking oddly baleful, Noel drops to sit next to Russell, gangly and theatrical, like his scarecrow frame has suddenly crumpled.

Julian takes a seat uneasily, the coffee table a safe barrier between them. Russell and Noel are sitting very close, their thighs pressed together. He tries to catch Noel’s eye, to get some nonverbal clue to explain his strange behaviour, but Noel is staring resolutely down at his fingers picking at the sofa’s upholstery.

The babies won’t stop crying, he wants to say. They are strange and terrifying and he just wants to be with Noel who is strange and beautiful and familiar, but with Russell here he has to stay polite and sewn-shut. He clears his throat, a nervous tic, and two sets of eyes are on him expectantly.

“What’s… what’s, uh, going on?” He asks hesitantly when it becomes apparent that Noel and Russell are going to do nothing more than stare at him cattishly. He leans unconsciously towards Russell, finding his smug confidence a bit more reassuring than Noel’s restlessness.

Noel fidgets and looks at the floor, chewing nervously on his thumb. His new haircut makes it even easier for him to hide behind his fringe. Though he’s used to the ever changing ridiculousness of Noel’s hair, this new style makes Julian uncomfortable. He thinks it’s perverse how the older Noel gets, the more he resembles a naughty child.

He sometimes feels faintly betrayed that Noel is no longer the person he fell in love with, though he knows it’s silly to think that a decade wouldn’t touch him in any way. Noel presents a reasonable facsimile of his old self when they are alone together, and Julian had been hoping for that comfort today, but instead he feels he’s stumbled into something far over his head.

Noel mumbles unintelligibly around his finger. “I believe what Noel is trying to say, Julian Barratt,” Russell says archly, hands pressed together in a mockery of a prayer pose. “Is that we were in the midst of a little game, and we thought perhaps you might join us.”

His voice is full of dark promise and Russell Brand has always conjured up vague images of brothels and fetish objects and illicit sexual encounters in Julian’s mind. He looks desperately to Noel, but Noel is staring at Russell, his bottom lip caught between his teeth, shoulders quaking slightly with quickened breath.

“I’m told,” Russell says dramatically. “That this is a game what you two used to play.”

Julian has a horrible, sinking feeling that he knows what Russell is referring to. He’s suddenly aware of Noel looking at him with keen interest. Taking a deep, calming breath, Julian tries to stay the deluge of images that threatens to overcome him—like half-remembered wet dreams he only allows himself to recall briefly and namelessly when he is close to orgasm, mistakes borne of too much alcohol, too much time, things that Julian has put safely behind him now that he is an adult, a father.

To think that Noel has shared these secrets with Russell brings a vile, acidic taste to Julian’s mouth. To think that Noel has shared himself with Russell (wiry bodies, grinning mouths, malicious nymphs tangled up in each other) makes heat course through Julian’s veins.

He sees something imploring in Noel’s expression and Julian feels a terrible helplessness take hold of him. He is terrified of the day that Noel realizes he could ask for everything and get it. For so long he has been dependent on Noel to bring magic and whimsy to his world, and to risk losing him is to risk draining his life of all colour.

His silence seems to be taken for compliance and Russell grins vaingloriously. He claps softly and Noel pricks up like a trained animal. Embarrassment and jealousy flush Julian’s cheeks and his eyes dart away from the pair across from him.

“The rules, such as they are, are quite simple,” Russell says, recapturing Julian’s attention. His tone becomes firm and instructional. His teeth flash dangerously and Noel visibly tenses like he knows what’s coming. “Fielding does what I say,” Russell concludes with obvious pleasure, jerking his thumb in Noel’s direction.

The situation has rapidly deteriorated into something over which Julian has no control, the reins so securely in Russell’s hands that Julian can only gape, dumbfounded, and sit frozen in place. Noel is being offered up like a prize or a simple treat and he’s not sure he can refuse when he trusts, however inexplicably, that Russell will skilfully steer them through the proceedings and the aftermath.

“Noel,” Russell begins, touching an intimate hand between Noel’s shoulder blades. His voice is suspiciously sing-song and Julian swallows audibly. “Why don’t you get on your knees?”

A slight whining noise claws its way out of Noel’s throat and hangs in the air heavily. He crosses his arms across his chest and looks defiantly down at his silver boots. Julian finds all the saliva has fled his mouth and he knows Noel is the one who will decide the outcome of this encounter.

“Breaking the rules already?” There is an implicit warning in Russell’s words and Noel huffs in resignation at the same moment that Julian lets out the breath he hadn’t realised he was holding.

“Alright, alright,” Noel grouses, thudding to the floor with deliberate gracelessness.

Russell is immediately again benign and cheerful. “As you might imagine, Julian,” Russell says good-naturedly, “Noel is rubbish at this game.”

Noel shuffles forward on his knees, moving awkwardly around the coffee table. As if possessed, Julian rises and takes the short few steps to meet him. Noel’s hands creep to Julian’s belt and he grins up at Julian who can think of nothing to say to his guileless expression. Noel’s smile is warm and only for the two of them and Julian can’t help but touch Noel’s cheek lightly in gratitude.

There’s no forgetting they are not alone, though. Russell reclines along the length of the couch in perfect repose. The entire encounter is so forcibly staged that all of Julian’s better intentions flee in the presence of such blasé sexual bartering. He is almost angry at Noel for allowing himself to be used so cheaply, but all he can do is breath shakily as Noel undoes his trousers and tugs them, along with his underwear, down to his ankles.

His cock is touched with something that could be either uncertainty or reverence. Julian makes a noise, half-stifled and ashamed as Noel starts to stroke him. Their previous indiscretions were always rushed, fuelled by alcohol and adrenaline. Noel’s caresses are slow and deliberate and Julian thinks bitterly that Russell must want a good show.

“Go on,” Russell cuts in when Julian has produced a half-hearted erection, too uncomfortable under Noel and Russell’s scrutiny to be fully aroused. Noel frowns but keeps his eyes on Julian as he leans forward and his tongue flickers out to lick the underside of Julian’s cock.

Julian chokes on a gasp and clutches compulsively at Noel’s shoulder. He hazards a glance at Russell who looks enraptured and overly pleased with himself. Noel appears to be considering the matter at hand quite carefully and Julian has to close his eyes because he feels like an insect pinned under glass.

Unable to see it coming, the shock of Noel’s mouth surrounding him makes Julian moan aloud. A hand curls around him to compensate for what Noel can’t take and then it’s all wet, messy heat that weakens Julian’s knees and takes him far away from the reality of what’s happening. He hates himself for becoming some mindless beast driven by lust, but he just wants to shove forward, to claim more of this uncharted territory.

Noel’s movements are arrhythmic and sloppy with saliva. It’s clearly a struggle for him and sympathetic mortification wars viciously with desire in Julian’s mind. Pulling away, Noel licks his lips, so red and glistening with moisture that Julian groans, and blinks blearily up at him. Cold air prickles his sensitive nerves and Julian instinctively curls a hand around the back of Noel’s head, trying to subtly urge him to continue. Russell chuckles deprecatingly and Julian suddenly finds it much easier to force Noel back down onto his cock.

He wants to cling to the illusion that he is angry with Noel—for involving him in this, for involving himself with Russell, for being so available when Julian can’t be as strong as is required, but he’s really only angry with himself because he’s harder than he’s ever been in his life, because he’d gladly follow Noel and Russell down any path they wanted as long as it meant he could have more of this.

“Mind your teeth,” Russell says and as much as Julian resents his intrusive presence, he is thankful that Russell is there to guide them calmly. Without him, this would all be too terrifying and unfamiliar. Blaming him helps Julian keep his fear at bay, allows him to be reprehensibly passive as Noel bobs his head obediently.

He shamefully imagines Russell teaching Noel how to suck cock, coaxing him through initial refusals and hesitant first-attempts. A peculiar sense of possessiveness grips him and he tightens his hold on Noel. Wide blue eyes peer up at him slyly, like Noel knows, as ever, exactly what Julian is thinking. Julian wants to reassure Noel and himself that he would never make Noel do this, but he is, with every spasm of his arm that twitches Noel another inch further.

It seems unsafe to look at his own hand tangled in Noel’s hair, even less safe to look at Russell—his eyes bright and intense and fixed on them. It seems impossible that this is really him, pressing Noel ever closer, making him take Julian’s cock deeper. With one unforgiving thrust he is in Noel’s throat and Noel gags and splutters and his untutored coarseness is too discomfiting to think about.

Noel bravely tries again, his mouth immediately returning to Julian’s erection, the cavern of it already achingly necessary and familiar. The soft bed of Noel’s tongue makes Julian think of overripe fruit, cloyingly sweet and sticky.

A moan reverberates around Julian’s erection and his knees buckle and he digs his fingers harder into the tender flesh that covers Noel’s skull. He glances down and realizes that Noel’s spare hand is in his own jeans and that he’s jerking himself off roughly. The sight is somehow comforting to Julian, knowing that Noel wants this. It puts Russell into the safer realm of voyeur rather than overseer.

His cock slips out of Noel’s mouth and Noel presses his forehead to the crease of Julian’s thigh, panting harshly. One hand is still around the base of Julian’s erection, the other working between his own thighs. He shudders and makes the most beautiful sound Julian has ever heard and he wishes he could see, but he just feels some of Noel’s cum dripping down his leg and then the air is stiflingly silent except for Russell’s faint murmur of approval.

After a moment Noel turns his attention to Julian with a renewed zeal. Noel’s tongue swirls around the head of his cock and Julian can feel pleasure building to an inevitable peak. His breath huffs out of him and he tries to warn Noel but he feels like his power of communication, like everything that made him human, has all retreated.

“He’ll swallow,” Russell says casually. Julian balks at how surreal it is to have Russell informing him of this as if Noel is some anonymous stranger. He thinks Noel whimpers, but he’s too far gone to tell. Noel ducks his head closer and all Julian can see is the sheen of his black hair and the tenseness of his shoulders. Noel’s hand presses warm and supportive against Julian’s lower back. Julian thinks of all he is depended on for at home. He thinks of the way his life has been streamlined and reordered by fatherhood and it is surprisingly easy to let Russell tell him to come down Noel’s throat.

Clever fingers brush against his entrance, not pushing in, but just resting there in a sly insinuation and then Julian’s hand jerks in Noel’s hair and he comes. Russell is leaning forward, enthralled, his hands clasped between his knees—knuckles white with the strain of his excitement.

Once Julian has softened fully, Noel pulls away, semen smeared obscenely at the corner of his lips. He stands, his balance shaky, and goes to clean himself off, a blush painting his cheeks bright red.

As his senses stop buzzing, Julian realizes that Russell is still staring at him. He self-consciously hitches his trousers back up and shifts his weight awkwardly, unsure whether he should bolt or sit back down. Russell’s composure is strangely reassuring and Julian drops wearily into the chair. It bothers him, being left alone with Russell, but he dreads facing Noel after what they’ve done.

“Next time,” Russell says, a bit breathless, “You can fuck him.”

Julian’s heart skips at the thought. He knows with absolute certainty that there will be a next time, that he has no possible defence against this. He lets himself imagine it—Noel on his back on the floor, the carpet rubbing his skin raw, legs tight around Julian’s waist. Would Russell join in, he wonders, or again remain aloof. He is sure that the questions, the possibilities will plague him sleepless until he is allowed, no, forced to act his part in Russell’s fantasies.

Noel returns to perch on the arm of the sofa. He looks at Julian levelly and Julian feels like he’s being smothered. Sighing, Noel stands and walks over to him, tugging Julian to his feet by his sleeve and wrapping his arms tight around Julian’s torso. One of Julian’s hands strokes Noel’s hair, the other rests on his slender waist. He sees over Noel’s shoulder that Russell is watching them, unabashed and benevolent.

“I’ll see you tomorrow, yeah?” Noel says softly. “We’ll get some work done.”

Julian kisses Noel’s temple and he can feel Noel sag with relief in his hold. He wants to prolong the moment, knowing that this in itself is a rare opportunity, but Noel carefully extricates himself and turns back to Russell. He looks very much like a schoolboy expectantly awaiting praise and Julian feels his stomach turn.

Russell gets up and slings his arm over Noel’s shoulders. “Exquisite,” Russell says quietly, his mouth pressed to Noel’s cheek. Noel smiles unsteadily and runs his hand through his hair. Russell reaches over and curls his hand around Julian’s upper arm and Julian finds himself quite at a loss.

“I should be going,” he says uncertainly. Noel nods and goes to retrieve Julian’s coat, his regular aura of confidence cloaking him. Julian smiles affectionately, even knowing that the all seeing Russell is sure to catch it.

“Perhaps you’d like to offer me a ride home,” Russell says genially.

Taken aback, Julian nods dumbly. They both embrace Noel before they go—Russell first and then Julian. Noel clings to him, reluctant to let him go. A kiss, soft but persistent, is pressed to his mouth and Julian knows that something vital has shifted, is reshaping the world in drastic ways and he is absurdly grateful when Russell touches his shoulder and tells him they have to leave.

In the car, Russell moves the seat back and crosses his feet on the dashboard. Julian is surprised to see that Russell is wearing worn Converse sneakers rather than the cowboy boots he expects. He realizes suddenly that he doesn’t really know Russell at all.

The first half of the ride is silent save for Russell telling Julian where to turn. Julian keeps turning the afternoon’s events over in his mind, carefully cataloguing the details, trying to round out the parts that mystify him.

“Go on then,” Russell says after a while. Julian glances at him out of the corner of his eye and sees that Russell is smiling at him.

“What?” He says crossly, hating how at ease Russell seems. Russell just cocks his head and looks at him knowingly. “How long have you been sleeping with Noel?” Julian finally asks grudgingly. It’s difficult to admit that Noel had shut him out of something.

Russell laughs, full and gratingly loud, but strangely without a hint of mocking. “I’m not sleeping with Noel,” he says, a mouthful of teeth and gums bared in amusement. “Never have.”

He feels his world tilt on its axis and Julian is thankful that he has the road ahead of him to concentrate on. “Then what the fuck was all that?”

“That was Noel giving you a blowjob, as he has wanted to do for quite some time.” Russell’s tone is patronizing and Julian’s jaw clenches in irritation. “I’m just helping you compartmentalize,” Russell says, drawing out the word. “Selfless, ain’t I?”

Julian is suddenly cast adrift, unsure of everything, finding that nothing is as structured or ordered as he thought. He can think of nothing to say, the words all sticking in his throat. Russell hums to himself and looks out the passenger window, leaving Julian to his turbulent thoughts.

He pulls up in front of Russell’s house, vaguely registering Russell saying, “Isn’t it nice? I bought it not too long ago.” Russell chuckles when Julian doesn’t respond and leans over to give Julian a peck on the lips. “Next time,” he says, a promise, a threat, and then he is out of the car, walking jauntily to his front door.

Julian sits there for a very long time, sure that Russell is watching him and smirking from the window. When his hands are finally steady enough, he drives home.