Category: The Mighty Boosh
Characters: Howard Moon, Vince Noir
Pairing: Howard Moon/Vince Noir
Length: <1k words
Notes: This is a bit weird, and pretty short. I was working on another, longer story but I lost my way with it, and this just popped into my head. It’s meant to be tense. Don’t know if it really works…
This is a weird little fic which sees Bainbridge hurt Howard in an inconvenient place. Vince tries to deal with the situation while keeping his thoughts clean… I have no idea why I wrote this. It just came to me when I got really bad writers block on my original Vince/Howard fic. I have a strange mind. Feel free to criticise…
Bruised by inigosolo
It just wasn’t Howard’s day.
When Dixon Bainbridge arrived and went to kick Fossil in the balls by way of a greeting, he somehow missed and got Howard instead. This might have been because Fossil was using Howard as a human shield at the time. The pain and shock made Howard react instantly in a way no one would have expected. He instinctively head-butted Bainbridge, in a very northern sort of way, before falling to the ground in agony and trying to crawl back to the hut.
Vince helped him, impressed that Howard’s knee-jerk reaction to being kicked in the balls had knocked Bainbridge unconscious.
While everyone else was fretting over the prone form of the zoo’s owner (“Bainbridge! Speak to me baby! Moon, I’ll get you for this!”), Vince got Howard back to the hut, and got him an ice-pack.
Howard lay on the sofa, holding the ice-pack to his crotch and whimpering.
Vince locked the door, and shut the blinds.
“Howard, are you going to be alright?”
Howard looked up at him with watering eyes.
“What do you think, little man?” He gasped sarcastically.
“Right. Um, look, do you want me to check you out, or anything? Make sure there’s no lasting damage?”
Howard groaned loudly and pressed the ice-pack more tightly to himself.
Vince took that as a no, so he hovered.
“Well, is there anything I can do? Cup of tea?”
Howard glared daggers at him, then yelped in pain.
Vince bit his lip. “You’d better let me see. Just in case. I’m worried about you. You don’t need to be embarrassed. I’m your best mate, I won’t tell anyone.”
More glares. But after a moment’s hesitation Howard staggered up from the sofa and stood in front of him, removing the ice-pack from his groin and staring straight ahead.
Vince swallowed, then dropped to his knees cautiously and slowly reached out his hands to undo the top-button of Howard’s trousers. His fingers shook slightly as they moved on to the zip, drawing it down gently, carefully.
Howard stood very still, with his legs apart slightly to prevent his trousers falling all the way down around his ankles.
Vince was glad Howard was looking straight ahead and couldn’t see how much he was blushing. He looked hesitantly at the large bulge in Howard’s underpants, then, very slowly, he brought his hands to Howard’s hips and agonisingly drew down the stretchy fabric until the problem area was fully exposed.
Vince just stared for a moment at the bruised and swollen flesh. If he was blushing before, it was nothing to what he was doing now. He felt like he was burning up.
Howard was a big, tall man with large hands and feet, so Vince didn’t know what he’d been expecting. But the sight of Howard’s manhood, even when it had been kicked and bathed in ice, was enough to make him feel that he deserved the nickname ‘little man’.
“Well?” Howard asked through gritted teeth.
“It’s still all there.”
“Doesn’t feel like it…”
Being as gentle as he possibly could be, Vince lifted the shaft so that he could get a better look. His careful fingers probed the bruised area, eliciting a series of groans from Howard, but he found nothing to suggest any lasting damage.
“I think you’ll survive.” He said at last.
He drew Howard’s underpants back up over him and stood up quickly.
Howard lay down on the sofa again, legs apart, flies still undone, pressing the ice against his underwear.
After a while he seemed to have recovered enough to speak, and when Vince handed him a cup of tea, he thanked him awkwardly for his help.
Vince went back to the sink, facing away from Howard, feeling a bit guilty.
He may have tried to help Howard out, but his motives for taking his trousers down hadn’t been entirely altruistic. While Howard had squirmed in pain and embarrassment, Vince’s own private parts had become swollen for entirely different reasons. Even though he was sorry for Howard’s discomfort, something about seeing the older man compromised like that had had a twisted effect on him. He found himself wishing for another, more pleasant excuse to see Howard exposed.
Vince smiled to himself. He was sure he could think of something.
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