The hug captured on film at the end of The Making Of Boosh 3 becomes something more


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Notes: this was inspired by a visual mistake on my part. when I first started to think about the hug and the scene they were filming before they wrapped, I imagined Noel’s character was wearing braces on his teeth – having looked more closely they’re just blackened, but I love the idea of him having fake braces, and I liked the idea of Julian liking it too, so I left the detail in.

From the moment Noel’s fingers caught in his torn T-shirt, Julian knew it was going to be more than just a hug. Noel was a sight – black dyed hair hidden by the messy blond wig, face covered in make up – black, white and red – patches of dried fake blood on the white lab coat; a medical nightmare, an extra from a dental horror movie. Yet, still, the most beautiful sight on set.

Champagne bottle already open and clutched in one hand, Julian took his partner-in-crime into the embrace he’d silently sought. Arms clothed in cheap cotton wrapped around him and he curled his fingers against Noel’s warm neck as he felt breath on his throat and the weird scratch of the wig against his cheek.

Noel’s slight figure moulded into the curve of him, pressing momentarily against him, head to toe when he leaned forward slightly, and he felt that familiar pulse, the one they were both so used to, the one that had at once scared and attracted Noel at the beginning of everything.

Arms loosened and Julian too released him, feeling a hand flatten at the top of his back, briefly tightening his own grip into the hollow of Noel’s shoulder, letting the bottle drop to hang at his side; fingers hotter and sweatier in the last moments than they had been as he’d walked through the baking set looking for the final scene being shot before they wrapped this thing.

Heavily black lined eyes looked up at him intensely from a face made impossibly more angled by the white makeup and as he swept his hand down from the warm neck to the small of Noel’s back, that face came closer and sticky red lips pressed against his suddenly dry mouth.

They’d kissed before, loads of times, just last week on camera for the show. But something in this made it different, something in it made the shift from whatever those kisses had been in the past – an expression of the two of them, Noel’s need to communicate with him in a way no one else did, a side effect of who they were and what they were – into a gesture with a whole new meaning.

Standing as still as a statue, Julian opened his mouth and Noel’s tongue darted inside, moving over his teeth, reaching for the back of his throat. Didn’t matter that somewhere close by the camera was still filming. Didn’t matter because they’d all seen this before. Whatever was going on between them inside the single mind they both seemed able to read, it would never be captured on film. They heard ‘cut’ as if it was said in another place, on another set, part of someone else’s DVD extra. Julian pushed his tongue alongside Noel’s, following it back into his mouth, sweeping it over the front of his teeth, tracing the edged bumps of the glued-on braces.

The speed of his cock filling surprised them both; just his hand low on Noel’s back stopping the smaller man from stepping back and drawing attention. Julian dropped his mouth to Noel’s throat and kissed him lightly there, murmuring ‘sorry’ at the same time. Noel’s head tilted, turned, and the rest of the world dared not exist as in response he heard, ‘let’s find somewhere’.

Julian hesitated, but misunderstandings between them were so easily fixed it was worth taking the risk that he’d interpreted the words wrongly somehow. He let go of Noel, pushed the door to his left open and stepped through it, glancing back to see if he was going to be followed. When he saw Noel take the same step, his heart started to pound like it used to before he went on stage, back in the days when he was just Julian Barratt, lone stand-up, and not one half of the best thing to ever happen.

‘Go on then!’ Noel’s impatience made him grin and he stepped out into the back of the set, between thick snaking cables and supporting wooden slats, with Noel following him, the fake half of the door not quite closing behind them. Nothing solid really worked on the sets, it all just looked as if it did, which would make what he was looking for almost impossible to find.

He didn’t want to ask Noel, didn’t want to break out of the fragile roles they’d unintentionally created, and his mind rushed over the various scenes they’d shot for this final episode. Last series there would have been the flat and the black and white sofa Noel had loved so much. All he could think of was the dentist’s chair. and a brief flash Noel dressed like this sitting in that chair unsettled him in a way he didn’t really want to analyse right there and then.

‘The green room.’ Noel’s voice was barely a soft whisper in his ear, stroking his already hard cock. But the green room was so public, Noel couldn’t possibly mean…. ‘Sammy’s green room.’

He remembered the arrival of the black leather couch a couple of days ago, and the fish tanks made of sugar glass that cracked every time anyone so much as looked at them. He led the way without commenting on how much of a genius he thought Noel was at that particular moment. Noel too, it seemed, wanted to keep these so tentative roles in tact.

This set had a proper door that opened and closed with a latch. No lock, nothing to keep them from being disturbed, yet at the same time no reason for anyone to come in here except to look for them. People usually didn’t bother looking for them. Dark walls, a fake window and the long, narrow black couch were all that remained of the Velvet Onion’s green room set. It opened out on two sides but only into an unlit corner of the studio. Even the cables had been lifted after the scenes had been shot.

Kicking the door closed gently with his foot, Julian pulled Noel into an embrace similar to the one they’d shared out there, on camera, and Noel went just as easily, lifting his open mouth to Julian’s, fingers reaching up to tangle in his hair. Ten years of abstract sexual tension between them was about to break and as Julian ran his tongue slower this time over the faked braces along the front of Noel’s teeth he was elated to feel Noel as hard as he was, trapped inside tight black trousers.

Nipping his bottom lip gently, Noel pulled back just slightly, grinning and baring his teeth. ‘You like these.’

For a couple of seconds Julian couldn’t answer, couldn’t talk, was blown away by the intimacy, by Noel’s easy acceptance of what was finally going to happen. This was just another side of them, another extension on what was already as intimate and physically close a friendship as he’d ever known; a unique relationship and certainly not like any other he knew of in his wide circle of friends.


In response, then, he ran his thumb over the tiny plastic shapes that Christine had spent so long creating. They hadn’t been in Noel’s sketches of the very, very short-lived character of Haabermaaster’s doctor, their make-up genius had interpreted the tin-foil-over-cardboard mirror on a headband and come up with dentist and therefore braces, and Noel being Noel had loved the idea.

‘Can’t help imagining what they’d feel like against my balls.’ He couldn’t quite believe he’d said it, and from Noel’s expression as he closed his lips down over Julian’s thumb and sucked it into his mouth to the root, neither could he.

‘You know I love you, don’t you?’ It seemed suddenly and vitally important that he said it.

Noel nodded, eyes wide, Julian’s thumb still held between his lips and teeth. His hand pushed between them and settled, palm flat, fingers spread, over Julian’s thudding heart. I love you, too. Easy to interpret that one.

Time to slip back into those newly created roles again. Julian hooked his thumb down over Noel’s teeth and led Noel over to the couch by them, dropping into it, dropping the champagne bottle safely to the carpet, pulling the slighter man with him, into his lap. Noel released his digit, laughing as he straddled Julian’s thighs, knees forced to part somehow obscenely as he slipped forward until their obvious erections collided through light and dark clothing; Julian’s pinky red leggings and Noel’s cotton-thin tight black pants.

Julian tore open the lab coat and white shirt Noel wore underneath it, leaning in to take the silver pendants between his teeth for a moment before pushing them out of the way with his tongue and kissing, licking smooth skin. Pulling back he dropped his head to the low back of the couch and gazed up at his partner, knowing Noel was able to take the attention as he was to deal with the intensity of it. It was part of what Julian adored about him, part of why he knew this could be so good between them.

‘I like you as a blond.’

‘You like the braces. You’re a pervert.’

Noel’s hands grasped the rip in his T-shirt and tore it in half, all the way down to the base, parting the edges of the cheaply thin material and sliding his fingers slowly over the bulge at Julian’s crotch. ‘Not sure I like you in pink leggings,’

‘Better take them off then.’

Such a cheap set-up, but it didn’t matter, it wasn’t written for an audience. Noel got his fingers under the waistband at the back and wriggled the Lycra off over Julian’s hips, out from under him, twisting but not leaving Julian’s lap, bending like a pro athlete to get the offending clothing off over his feet and chuck them away, out of set. Julian shifted forward, letting Noel’s knees slide past his hips until his own naked cock was rubbing against the black cotton covering Noel’s.

He watched, as patient as he could be, at Noel staring at their covered and uncovered genitals. He waited – riding out the waves of lust – until long, narrow fingers finally stroked the length of him, weeping purple tip to tight, sparsely haired balls. ‘God, Ju….’ He almost came just from the awe in Noel’s voice – nothing to do with his ego, everything to do with this just being them.

Reaching to cradle Noel’s head against his hand, he pulled the smudged mouth to his own, foraging with his tongue, digging between Noel’s front teeth and the hot, wet places in his mouth. One of Noel’s hands slid under what remained of his T-shirt, up to his shoulder, gripping there while the other half-circled his cock and pressed him from root to tip against Noel’s own still clothed, straining erection.

Julian broke away. ‘I want to feel it against you.’ Noel nodded and Julian caught a moment of something he didn’t recognise on his face before he moved from Julian’s lap. He caught him, hands grabbing his arms before he was all the way off. ‘Hey.’

‘I’m not as big as you.’

It threw him completely and he realised what he hadn’t recognised was hesitation; when had Noel ever hesitated before doing anything before? ‘I’ve seen it before. You’re perfect.’ And pushing Noel gently to his feet, Julian undid the strange fastenings and nudged trousers and briefs down the length of his legs, pooling material at his ankles, sliding to the edge of the seat, hands on Noel’s tight bum cheeks pulling him forward, lips sliding the length of Noel’s cock. He felt fingers twist in his hair, heard Noel’s stunned gasp given voice and started to suck him, going purely on instinct and experience of being on the other end of such an act. It was easier than he’d imagined, but it was Noel, and Noel made everything surprisingly easy.

Sounds he’d never heard before were rising from Noel’s chest and throat, utterly shameless once again while his hands stroked over Julian’s head, face, throat, once touching his lips as they met the wet silk of Noel’s cock, returning there again and again, like he was finding a new favourite thing.

Julian too was finding something new; the path along Noel’s bum crack, between tight little cheeks, brushing over his sensitive hole to the back of his balls. He didn’t quite have the courage to do more, not this first time, although he doubted it would have been the first time Noel had had a finger up inside him.

He was lost in sensation – taste, touch, smell – and when Noel pushed him away he thought at first he’d hurt him, then by the expression on his face thought he was about to come. But Noel’s mouth replaced his cock and as he was kissed, Julian was pushed back into the couch, Noel straddling his lap again, bringing their cocks together, wrapping his hands around them. Julian replaced one of those narrow hands with his own, fingers lacing through Noel’s, finding a rhythm together as easily as they always had; fast and tight. Mouths open and tight together. Tongues reaching as far inside each other as they could feasibly get. Messy and sloppy they came within a second of one another, Noel spilling over their joined hands, Julian too, loud noises drowning in each others’ throats.

As their pulses slowed to a more normal pace, they looked down at their crotches and Julian laughed quietly. ‘You always make a mess,’ Noel told him, voice quiet, still in awe of them. Julian kissed his forehead, his nose, his lips as his head lifted again. Everything they wouldn’t say to one another in words, Noel’s eyes put into another language entirely. It went beyond the simple phrase, I love you, way beyond to encompass everything that they were, everything their lives included; complicated yet incredibly simple.

Putting his arms around him, Julian wiped his hands on the back of Noel’s lab coat and made him laugh as he did, Noel sliding his own arms around Julian’s shoulders, along the back of the couch, dropping his forehead to Julian’s forehead, wiping his hands on the ripped T-shirt. He took a deep breath and kissed Julian’s nose. ‘I think that’s a wrap.’

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