Category: Real Person Fic
Characters: Julian Barratt, Noel Fielding
Pairing: Noel Fielding/Julian Barratt
Genre: PWP (porn without plot)
Length: <1k words
Noel closed his eyes, and sunk deeper into the boiling water with a sigh. His eyeliner and mascara was already smudged, and as he splashed water over his face, they trickled down his cheeks, leaving dark trails on his pale skin. Another show over, and tonight he could relax. This hotel had nice baths; deep and porcelain. The room was dark, the only light coming in was from a street lamp out the window, and steam was clogging up every surface.
He could hear Julian on the other side of the wall, where they were sharing a double room. He wasn’t doing anything particularly noisy, but the night was quiet enough to be able to listen to his movements. The creak of the couch as he sat down, the sound of thick pages flicking as he read. Noel fancied Julian was listening to him in the bath as well, and splashed the water particularly loudly to talk to him. There was an answering “clomp clomp” as Julian kicked off his shoes.
In the darkness, Noel sat up in the tub, leaning over the edge to pull his cosmetics bag across the floor. Julian would tease him for carrying the black purse with him between towns, but Noel knew that Julian used the shampoo he brought, rather than the hotel supplied stuff. Pulling a blue flannel out of the bag, Noel sunk back into the hot water, and held the cloth under, watching it float back and forth like a jellyfish with the tug of his hands. Closing his eyes, Noel draped his flannel over his face, feeling quieter than he had for weeks.
Noel opened his mouth, and the flannel sunk between his lips, where he sucked at it, pulling the moisture through its absorbant material. The water was warm, and he lifted the corner of the cloth to spit his mouthful back into the bathtub. Flannel sucking, the most comforting thing in the world, he thought, and let himself drift into half sleep, just listening to the occasional car rumble past under the window.
Julian was humming in their room, a song that Noel knew, but couldn’t place. Something by The Stones, he decided, but couldn’t be bothered thinking to name it. The sound drifted pleasantly through the thin wall with or without a title, and thoughtlessly Noel took his cock loosely in his hand, stroking himself wetly and slowly to hardness. A car backfired somewhere in the distance.
Wanking underwater was a slow process, what with lack of friction, but Noel had the time and, for once, the patience. Face still covered with a flannel, Noel listened to Julian’s soft singing and humming as he pumped his fist slowly. His eyes were open, everything was darkly blue and he was focussed. When Julian stopped singing, Noel’s hand immediately stopped its movement, before resuming again as he heard Julian unzip his suitcase and get undressed.
He felt vaguely guilty about using his best friend as some sort of abstract masturbation aid, but that only spurred him on, really. “I’m going to bed,” Julian called through the wall, “You coming at any point?” Yeah, responded Noel in his head, I sure am.
Ten minutes later, Noel emerged, blow-dried hair wispy around his shoulders, looking and feeling satisfied. He sat on the edge of his bed in his boxers, and stared at Julian, who was stretched out under his quilt reading some coverless paperback book. “Have a nice wank?” Julian asked, not looking up. Noel ruffled his hair and pulled his knees up to his chest, trying to wriggle into the bed without disturbing the tucked-in sheets.
“Brilliant, yeah. Why? You wish you were there?” Noel rolled over and snuggled his head into the crook of his arm, watching his friend’s face. Julian snorted, and closed his book, switching off the lamp.
You were, Noel thought, and closed his eyes.