Chinese Whispers

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A rumor is started, misinterpreted, and misinterpreted again until it's common knowledge in the Zooniverse that Howard and Vince are bumming. Only they're not.

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Don’t You Want Me, Baby? : aka Chapter 2.5

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Don’t You Want Me, Baby? : aka Chapter 2.5

Author’s Notes: CW was supposed to stop at 2 parts, but it didn’t. Obviously. hah, This chapter was my Christmas gift to the BSH and could be read as a standalone, but is technically part of Chinese Whispers.

Howard was useless when it came to looking after the raccoons.

Vince didn’t know why, and he wasn’t sure even Howard knew why, but there it was.

Howard crouched there inside the raccoon enclosure, his face all squinty-eyed and his lips curled away from his teeth in uncomfortable distaste. He was leaning back slightly with his hands clutched to his chest and his gaze fixed on his tormentor. Ronald raccoon looked thoroughly disgusted. He’d have rolled his eyes if it was the sort of thing a raccoon would think to do.

Vince watched on in fascinated horror.

“Howard. What’re you doin’?” He stepped forward, twining his fingers in the chain-link surrounding the raccoon habitat. “Just give him a biscuit and get outta there.”

Howard shook his head. “He’s just going to take it over to the water and wash it away into nothingness.” He started to stand slowly but stopped as Ronald narrowed his eyes at him.

“I worked too hard baking these, you hear me?” He clutched his handful of biscuits closer to his chest.

Ronald looked to Vince and chattered angrily, punctuating his statement with a shake of his little raccoon fist. Vince tongued the corner of his mouth and nodded.

“Right.” He said, then turned to Howard. “He says dissolving that biscuit last Christmas was a mistake and he’s learned from it. Just give him another, Howard.” Vince glanced at the irritated twitch of his tail and quietly added, “Better make it quick.”

“What, you really thing I’m handing over another one of these babies to that ignorant berk?” Howard said, completely ignoring any sense of discretion he may have formerly possessed.

Ronald was on him in an instant, like a rocker on a mod.

Only quite more violently.

Vince sucked a breath through his teeth, wincing and looking away as Howard toppled backwards onto the ground with a furry demon tearing at his jacket. Howard shouted and panicked, raising his cupped handful of biscuits up out of the way.

“HurryVincetakethebiscuits!” He called out before shrieking and curling into a defensive ball. Vince made to climb the fence, testing his footing on the chain-link, when he heard a rustle in the bushes to his right.

“Oi, Vince!” said a hushed voice.

Vince hopped down off the fence and looked over curiously. A hand popped out of the bushes and waived him over.

“Yeah?” he said, squinting at the leafy mass. Slowly, the hand pushed down a few branches and a head appeared.

“Oh! Alright, Joey.” Vince said with a smile and a nod. “What you doin’ in there?”

Joey Moose put a finger to his lips in the universal signal to hush and held up a folded slip of fluorescent pink paper.

“Oh, right.” Vince whispered and crouched down closer to the bushes. He took the paper from Joey and restored it to its original size.

“Zooniverse Christmas party. Tonight. My house.” Said Joey. “Be there?”

“Brilliant. Yeah.” Said Vince with a nod and started to stand.

“Oh,” He crouched back down, a thought coming to mind. “What about Howard?”

Joey balked.

“Don’t tell Howard.”

“What? Why?”

Joey looked over to the raccoon enclosure and Vince followed his gaze. Howard was on the ground, rolling in the dirt and shrieking with the raccoon attached to his leg. Pieces of biscuit littered the ground around them and he was mashing them into crumbs with his body as he flailed.

“… right.” Vince said, his eyes sliding back over to Joey. “You’ve got a point.” He stood up and gave a little wave. “I’ll see you later then.” he whispered conspiratorially as he stuffed the invite into his back jeans pocket.

When they got back to the hut that evening, Howard was in a dreadful mood. He fiercely chucked a handful of crumbs into the bin, glaring at Vince as he did.

“Why didn’t you help me?” He said, turning on the tap with unnecessary force. Vince turned the knob back, reducing the ferocity of the water flow and earning himself another glare.

“I told you I was sorry!” He said, watching Howard splash water on his face and rub off the dirt that had accumulated there from his romp with the raccoon.

“Here… sit down.” Vince said, grabbing a hand towel and the first aide kit. Howard had scratches along his cheek and forehead that were actually still bleeding a little. He patted Howard’s face dry and wiped gingerly at the marks on his cheek.

“Got you good, didn’t he?”

“Yeah. Thanks to you.” Howard huffed.

“Look, I advised you to give him a biscuit. You’re the one who decided those biscuits were more precious than your face.” Vince said as he dabbed antibiotic ointment on Howard’s scratches. There was an awkward moment where their eyes met and held for a moment too long. Vince was leaning forward in his chair to better tend Howard’s wounds, their faces only inches apart. Ever since that night, nearly a month ago now, things had been ever so slightly off.

It had all been part of a ruse set in place to lure Mrs. Gideon into the wild jealousy Howard knew she kept in her heart. Standing in the cold outside the reptile house, they’d kissed. It hadn’t been a long kiss, but that wasn’t the point. The point was, Howard had let it happen. He’d seen it coming; felt Vince’s meaningful gaze, let himself be pulled into a passionate embrace. Howard cleared his throat and averted his gaze. For the most part, things went back to normal. They’d never talked about that night, and lord knows they weren’t going to open up that can of worms tonight, but every now and then a spark of something would catch them off guard.

Vince stood and took off his jacket with clumsy fingers. He tried to hang it over the back of his chair, but it slipped off and fell. As he bent over to retrieve it, something poked out of the pocket of his impossibly tight jeans and fell to the floor. Howard picked it up.

“What’s this?” He asked, attempting to clear the tension.

“Hm? Oh.” Vince turned and winced internally. “It’s nothing, really…”

Howard unfolded the invitation and frowned.

“A party tonight? Why wasn’t I informed?” He looked hurt behind his indignation. Vince put on an apologetic smile.

“Oh yeah, sorry… er, I thought I told you already?” Vince said. Howard narrowed his eyes in a way that said he wasn’t buying it.

“Really, I did!” Vince swallowed hard and glanced up at the clock on the wall. “You know, you’d better hurry up if you’re gonna go.”

“What?” Howard said, confused, “Aren’t you going too?”

“Well yeah,” Vince grinned. “But I have to arrive fashionably late, obviously.”

Joey Moose’s house was considerably larger than Howard would have imagined. How was it that Joey lived in something of a baby mansion when he and Vince lived in a hut at the zoo? It wasn’t right. He marched up the walk in his finest khaki trousers and garish, Christmas-themed button down, and rang the doorbell. He stood out there for a good while waiting for someone to answer the door. He could hear the confusion of thumping music and bodies in motion from his spot on the stoop and started to doubt himself slightly. Parties were always more awkward when Vince wasn’t around to do most of the talking. Howard just ended up cracking jokes than sunk like the Titanic and then staring until people felt uncomfortable. Finally, the door was pulled open by none other than Joey himself, smiling.

“Howard.” He said, his smile fading at the edges.

“At your service!” Howard said, thrusting a green and red wrapped package into Joey’s arms. “Brought a gift. It’s a toaster. My toaster, actually.”

Joey frowned down at the package in his arms and then frowned up at Howard.

“It was kind of late notice.” Howard said and cleared his throat. “Right. Anyway. Gonna invite me in, or just leave me out in the cold?” He said with a short laugh.

Joey looked like he hadn’t quite decided yet. It was constant motion behind him, and someone from the crowd called out his name. Joey looked over his shoulder and then reluctantly back to Howard.

“Yeah… Come on in. I suppose.”

Howard had never seen this many people at the Zooniverse in his life, which lead him to believe that this was not a small holiday get-together so much as it was a big, wild party. He awkwardly danced his way through an ocean of bodies, cringing at the pop song positively shaking the house. If Vince were here, he’d be having fun already. Gyrating his slender form through the crowd, flirting and drinking and telling Howard to loosen up. As it was… Well, Howard would just wait for Vince to get there. It shouldn’t take long, right? Fashionably late; what was that, like, fifteen minutes? Twenty? He accidentally knocked into a booty-shaking brunette. He smiled apologetically. She glared and flipped him the bird. Right. Maybe he’d best find a seat to wait in.

In the corner of the room sat a single, wooden, straight-backed chair and Howard sat himself down to wait for Vince to make his grand entrance.

Fifteen minutes came and went.

As did twenty.

Howard anxiously stared at the door, tapping out a rhythm on his knees and bobbing his head to it. No need to worry. It didn’t matter that people were starting to stare. It didn’t matter that his toaster was chucked out the window not even thirty seconds ago.

Vince would be here soon.

Thirty minutes.

A drunk tripped and sloshed his beer all over the crotch of Howard’s trousers.

Forty minutes.

An urgent feeling had started in Howard’s gut. Why hadn’t Vince gotten here yet? Howard stared at his hands in his lap, brows knit over worried eyes. He couldn’t possibly still be straightening his hair. Maybe… he hadn’t just wanted to get rid of him, had he? There was that tense moment at the table earlier, but… Howard rubbed his face with a hand and frowned. Parties weren’t fun without Vince. Vince lit up the room, Vince loosened all tension, Vince made Howard want to grab him and hold him and… Howard blinked rapidly. boredom was taking his mind to strange, dangerous places tonight.

An hour.

Howard got up suddenly. An hour. A bloody hour he’d sat here waiting for that stupid little ponce, and for what? His arse was numb, he had a cramp in his leg and he smelled like a beer that he hadn’t even had the pleasure of partaking in. Howard T.J. Moon was done sulking and thinking about things he had no business thinking about. He needed a drink.

Forty-five minutes ago, Vince had been ready to leave for the party. Wearing his best silver boots and a hat to match, he’d flicked of the lights, opened the door and ran straight into Bob Fossil.

“Vince!” Fossil said in obvious relief. “Do me a favor, fruit-pants. I need you to head over to the African Savanna. I left the gate open and all the little orange goats got out.”

“What? Mr. Fossil, I’m off duty.” Vince tried to push past him. “I’ve got a party to get to.”

“Was I asking if you wanted to?” Fossil shouted. “Do it now!”

Luckily the springbok were reasonable individuals once he found them. Still, it took nearly an hour to round up all seven of them and get them back to the Savanna. After a quick primp, he set off.

The party was well under way by the time Vince got there. He went round the back so he could pop in and find someone to announce him properly at the front, but he’d no sooner sneaked in the door when Naboo grabbed his shoulder and spun him around.

“Oi, Naboo, what-?”

“Vince, where’ve you been?” Naboo looked very grave. “Have you seen Howard yet?”

“No. Why? What’s wrong?”

“He’s in a right state, the tit. You need to get him under control.” Naboo nodded his head toward the next room over. “He was in there last I saw. Been asking for you.”

Vince frowned and glanced around, forgetting his grand entrance. If Howard was embarrassing himself, he’d be embarrassing Vince too. Everyone knew they were mates. He wove through the bodies into the next room, and his jaw dropped. Howard was in there alright, no mistaking that.

There he was in all his glory. Standing on an ottoman in nothing but little blue pants and knee-high old man socks with sandals, waving around an alcopop. Vince rushed over just as Howard was looking as if he was going to slip and steadied him.

“And thats when the duck said, ‘I haven’t got any marmalade!’“ Howard shouted, telling the punchline to a joke that nobody was listening to. “Hah! Y’see, because he’s a duck!”

“Howard!” Vince whispered urgently, “Can I have a word?”

“Vince!” Howard was obviously delighted as he stumbled down off his make-shift podium. “You’re here!”

Vince hastily pulled him to an empty corner where they could talk in relative private.

“Are you insane!” Vince said, looking him over in disbelief. “Where are your trousers? You look like a complete arse!”

“I didn’t think you were coming!” Said Howard with a happy, drunken smile on his face.

“And those sandals – Adding insult to injury, that’s what you’re doing!”

“I don’t think being this late is fashionable.” Howard said seriously, eyes not quite focusing anymore.

“You can’t even begin to school me on what’s fashionable, Howard.” Vince said.

Neither of them seemed to notice they were having separate conversations.

“C’mon.” Vince said, taking Howard’s hand and leading him through the crowd until they reached the kitchen. He sat Howard down at the table and took the rest of his drink from him, smelled it and made a face. Vince swallowed it himself, figuring he’d need it, and set the bottle aside. He filled a plastic cup from the tap and thrust it into Howard’s hand.

“Have some water.” He said, sighing and sinking down into a chair next to him.

Vince just stared at him for a moment, watching as he nursed his water and blinked his bleary eyes.

“You’re killin’ me here, Howard. What did you drink? Can’t have just been an alcopop.”

Howard shook his head.

“Swiped something from Naboo.” He grinned, “Good stuff.”

“Then you’re probably off your tits as well. Fantastic.”

“You know, I think I can almost smell colors.” Howard replied.

Vince snagged a passerby.

“Oi mate, have you seen Howard’s clothes?”

The stranger shrugged noncommittally and shouldered out of the room.

“Right.” Vince fluffed his hair absently. “I’m going to go track down your things. You stay here. For the love of God, stay here.” He got up, “Don’t even talk to anyone.”

Howard’s button-down was being occupied by an unattractive blonde and Vince nearly had to fight her to get it back. His trousers were folded neatly by the punch bowl.

“Did that ‘imself, he did.” Said a helpful man, taking a swig of his beer.

Vince rolled his eyes at that; trust Howard to fold his trousers after he’d taken them off on a drunken whim.

Howard rested his forehead on the cool oak table, closing his eyes. Vince didn’t have to be playing mother hen. After all, he wasn’t that smashed.

Well. Considering just what Vince had gone to look for, maybe he was that smashed.

It was hard to concentrate on any one thing for long.

Vince returned without fanfare, shaking Howard’s shoulder.

“Put these back on. Please.” He thrust Howard’s clothes into his arms, but Howard made no move to do so. He sat up, resting his head in his hand and smiling in a simple way.

“I’m glad you showed up, Vince.”

Vince bit his lip. Howard’s eyes were half-lidded and his hair was a mess… but in a good way if that was possible.

“I’m glad you showed up.” He said again, only quietly and more to himself it seemed.

Was he drunk? Absolutely. Obnoxiously embarrassing? You bet. Still maddeningly attractive?…. yeah.

“I’m… sort of glad I showed up too.”

Vince sighed and took Howard’s top back from him, helping his to get his arms through the sleeves.

“It was Fossil’s fault, you know, that I got here so late.” Vince said as he fastened a couple of Howard’s buttons so the shirt would stay on.

“Do you suppose they have whole….machines? Machines to make these?” Howard said, staring down at his buttons.

“I reckon they do.” Vince said. “You know, I think this party’s had its fill of you. Lets find you a place to crash, yeah?”

Vince wasn’t used to being the responsible one. In fact, were the universe to go by its natural order, their roles would likely be reversed. Vince thought this especially true as he struggled to haul Howard to his feet and, arm around his waist, steer him through the party. Vince knew he’d seen what looked to be a guest bedroom when he’d sneaked in the back, and that’s where they were headed when Howard stopped abruptly.

“Ah, Howard. You’ve got to work with me here.” Vince said, struggling to keep a teetering Howard on balance.

Howard pointed upwards.

“Mistletoe!” He said, smiling.

“Yeah?”

“There’s mistletoe just there.”

“And?” Said Vince, wincing as Howard leaned on him heavily for support.

“We’ave to kiss.” Howard said seriously, like it would be an actual crime not to. Vince glanced around them quickly. There were still dozens of people at the back of the house. Many were in fact watching their little display.

“I’m not kissing you, Howard.” Vince said.

Not when you’re nearly smashing me onto the floor. Not when all these people are staring at us. Not when you’ll be horrified about it when you sober up.

Vince tugged his arm. “C’mon, Romeo. Let’s go.”

“Not until we kiss pash… passh… passionately.” Howard said, and he wasn’t using his inside voice anymore.

“Easy, you lunatic…” Vince whispered, reproachful. His cheeks flushed as at least twenty other people turned their way.

“Ah… hah.” He forced a laugh and pressed a swift kiss to the corner of Howard’s pouting mouth.

“Now, shut your gob.”

Vince had been right about the guest room, thankfully. Getting Howard’s nearly dead weight there had drained him considerably. Once inside, he shut the door with a snap and leaned against it, breathing a deep breath.

“God, you’re an idiot.” Vince said fondly, looking Howard over again. He was still only wearing his button-down and a pair of rather small pants. He looked nearly ready to pass-out.

Vince sat him down on the bed and started to leave.

“Do it properly…” Howard said, staring at the wall next to Vince’s head.

“What?” Vince turned around. “Do what properly? Scold you?” He said, the look on his face calling Howard a nutter.

“No… no. Kiss me.” Howard said, and this time his eyes met Vince’s with unsettling certainty.

There was an immense pause.

Vince frowned. “You’re ridiculous.” He said at length.

Vince was adaptable. He’d been able to function fairly normally for months now while concealing a certain inappropriate affinity for Howard. He’d even been fine after that kiss.

Yet, enough was enough.

“But… I…”

Vince stalked over, his irritation etched on his face, and pushed Howard back on the bed.

“Stop.” He said, yanking back the covers and pushing Howard’s legs under them. “Just stop.” Self-control can only go so far.

“What?” Howard said, obviously not expecting to be rejected. “Why not?”

“Because you’re pissed.” Vince snapped, “And you don’t know what you’re saying.”

“That’s never stopped you before!” Howard said, half sitting up.

Vince knit his brows and pushed him back down. “What? You’re mad.”

“You do drunk people all the time!” He exclaimed. He was hurt, despite the fact that he really didn’t know why he’d asked Vince to kiss him or if he had been completely serious about it.

It was the principle of the thing.

“Tart.” Howard added, for good measure.

Vince rolled his eyes and Howard frowned.

“You really are a freak, you know.” Vince said conversationally. It was hard to stay mad at Howard when he had that unfocused quality to his gaze.

“But why?” Howard asked. By now it was more like word vomit.

“Do you really need to ask? You have to already know you’re freakish.” Vince bantered, knowing full well that’s not what Howard meant.

“You kiss everyone else.” Howard accused, closing his eyes.

“Yeah, well. That’s when I’m the drunk one.” Vince tucked the blankets in around Howard’s body.

“Even when you’re drunk…” Howard said, his voice drifting away towards sleep, “You wont… kiss me.”

He passed out, the beginnings of a snore trailing his breaths.

Vince watched him for a long moment before leaning down and pressing a light kiss to his forehead.

“That’s because I’m afraid I’d mean it.” He said, the corner of his mouth twitching into an awkward smile.

Vince sighed and left the room to find some booze of his own to drown in and dance.