Category: The Mighty Boosh
Characters: Howard Moon
Pairing: Howard Moon/Vince Noir
Length: <1k words
Notes: I am seriously running out of titles, ha. I need a “Writer’s Title Wrangler” to rustle me up some goooooood titles!
Disclaimer: I love it with all my heart, I love it with my body part, but I don’t own the Mighty Boosh, so everybody shush!
Disclaimer Two: I do not really claim to love the Mighty Boosh with my body part.
Aesthetically Pleasing by TheMystique
It had started off as a way to insult the little shite. After a day of receiving particularly nasty “jokey” comments from him, Howard T.J. Moon felt it was high time the cheeky little tit-box got some back.
So, in between serving customers down in the shop, Howard had started to write down little things he noticed about Vince that he could get some good comebacks out of.
(There’s a lot going on on his face)
It had been going well. But then, when the babbling stream of customers petered out into a trickle, instead of watching Vince for any tips on insults he started just watching him… well, because he was sort of aesthetically pleasing to look at, really.
The little ne’er-do-well was sitting in the barber’s chair with some fashion magazine or other, marking off the items of clothing he wanted with a blue crayon, which was pointless really because he wanted everything. Every now and then he would see something he really liked and his eyes would go all big. If he got bored, he would start to twirl strands of thick ebony hair around his slender fingers, but then he would snap out of it, probably because he was worried about giving himself split ends.
So instead it seemed he was going to eat the crayon. This was a new development.
Noir slid the tip of the crayon in between his lips, slick with lip-gloss, and sucked on the end.
Very aesthetically pleasing was Vince.
“Mmm? ‘As me eyeliner gone all Batman again?”
For some reason, it took Howard a few minutes to realise that Vince had spoken to him, and when he responded his voice didn’t come out properly.
“What? Hm? Er, what? No, no you look fine, er, I mean, it’s fine…” he cleared his throat uncomfortably.
Vince stood up and dropped the magazine down onto the chair, “Aw, I’m gonna ‘ave to ‘ave a look now, you’ve freaked me out a little bit. For all I know it could be on its way to me ankles…”
Vince peered into the mirror and posed, pleased to see that his immaculate make-up was still just that.
He turned to look at Howard again, eyeing him warily, “What then? Why ‘ave you gone all shifty on me?”
Howard wasn’t too sure.
Vince grimaced suddenly.
“Eeer. Ugh. That is disgustin’…” he looked down at the crayon as if it had just made a mess on the rug.
Howard smiled and felt a strange feeling in the pit of his stomach, like butterflies.
“Errgh. It’s on me teeth. Supposed to be ‘blueberry sunset’; certainly don’t taste like one…”
“So, you’ve eaten a blueberry sunset before, have you?” Howard asked, smiling a small but warm smile, voice laced with fond amusement.
Vince chuckled, and looked up at the large, awkward Northerner who stood before him with a smile on his face and asked, “Why are you smilin’ like that?”
Howard stopped smiling at once;
“Sorry. Did I look like a berk?”
“No,” Vince insisted, “You looked quite attractive actually. I like that one. Lot less creepy. You might actually pull some jazz girls if you smile like that,”
“Oh…” Howard smiled again.
“What, what? Was that the wrong one?”
“No, you just make me laugh!” Vince rolled his eyes and snatched the notebook from Howard’s unsuspecting hands, “What’s this?”
“Oh that’s just er…”
There was laughter again as Vince scanned the page, “This your book of insults for me? Ay-steth-ically pleasing? What does that mean? It don’t sound like an insult…”
He didn’t remember writing that one down.
“Aesthetically pleasing. It means visual. Very visually pleasing-it’s got nothing to do with what I wrote about you sir,” Howard was quick to snatch the book away.
“Really?” Vince raised an eyebrow and smiled.
Blushing furiously, Howard nodded his head vigorously, “Absolutely,”
“Riiiiiiiiight…” Vince raised the other eyebrow and made his way back to his seat.
Howard sat down at the counter indignantly.
Just look at him, in those stupid shoes. Look at his arse sticking out in those ridiculously tight jeans.
Aesthetically pleasing little shite.