Let the Good Times Roll

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Old Gregg enlists the help of his old man, the Hitcher, to reunite with his beloved Howard. When Howard goes missing on their trip to New Orleans for Mardi Gras, Vince once again has to save Howard in every way possible.

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Chapter 21

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Chapter 21

Howard kept pulling back, not quite ending the kiss or leaving Vince’s embrace, just sort of wriggling about and being generally difficult.

“What’s wrong?” Vince panted. He began kissing his way down Howard’s neck so the big man could have his mouth free to answer. Howard seemed to be sweating rum. It was with a touch of regret that he removed Howard’s neckerchief. It was good to see the big man accessorize.

“Nothing, just… we should lock the door. Maybe turn on the lights and have a look around…”

Vince slapped himself on the forehead before turning on the lights.

“Sorry, Howard,” he apologized. He’d been so eager to get back to snogging, he’d again forgotten he was supposed to be taking care of Howard, not just giving him a feel up against the door of their hotel room. Vince double locked the door and checked the bathroom and under both beds, while Howard remained leaning against the door.

“S’all right, Howard. Don’t think anyone’s been in here, but the maid,” Vince said, stroking Howard’s arms.

Howard had gone red and was staring at the floor, and Vince shifted from one foot to the other – hoping for a clue as to how to proceed. He wanted to go back to touching Howard, but was afraid of seeming too aggressive or of making Howard feel like he was ‘expecting’ something. He’d be happy just snogging Howard until they fell asleep. Then they could wake up and start all over again, stopping only for some food and maybe some chap stick.

“I know there’s no one here,” Howard explained without looking up, “I’m just feeling a little paranoid. Shocker, that, I know.”

“You should be paranoid! I should be paranoid! I don’t know why but… I just feel sure that Old Gregg’s going to leave us alone and that the Hitcher… well, I don’t imagine he’s gonna get up to much of anything for a while. I know it’s a bit daft, but I think Old Gregg really loves you in his own way. Even sometimes when you were dreaming…”

Vince lost his train of thought when Howard began shaking, “S’all right, Howard. You’re safe, and soon we’ll be home and everything will be…” He couldn’t say “normal.”

“I’m just a bit tired,” Howard said, clearly trying to pull himself together, “I’ll be fine.”

“Do you want to go to sleep? I can sing for you, again. Or do you want a shower first? Some food? We can make some of that disgusting bagged tea.”

Vince was again distracted as Howard’s lips covered his own. He’d kissed (and done more than kiss) far too many tall men with mustaches, but none of them had ever come close to the real Howard. Howard’s kisses were drunken, sloppy, inexperienced and impossibly tender. The hand on the back of his head was gentle and undemanding. It was the first time since his early teens that Vince was snogging for the sake of snogging, not just as foreplay leading up to the main event.

“You are an amazin’ kisser, Howard,” Vince observed as Howard sucked on his neck. “You’re a natural.”

Howard chuckled and Vince pressed his face to Howard’s chest to feel the rumble. He could feel how hard Howard’s heart was pounding.

“I’m sure I’ve got nothin’ on Kylie,” Howard teased.

Vince felt a bit queasy and longed to make a joke, but he refused to be distracted this time – even as Howard’s hands ran over his lower back and hips.

“I didn’t mean anything by that… We were just bein’ silly, I wasn’t thinkin’ ‘bout how it would make you feel…”

“I’m not angry, Vince. Kylie’s lovely, you looked good together.”

“As good as I look with my sexy side kick?” Vince asked, sliding his hand under Howard’s rollneck, feeling his stomach.

“As good as Blanc & Noir,” Howard agreed. He tensed at Vince’s touch but didn’t pull away. Vince savored his unrestricted access to Howard’s belly, he’d been waiting for a long time.

“I was talking about you, ya berk,” Vince teased before pulling Howard down for another kiss.

Feeling Howard’s big hands tugging at the hem of his shirt, Vince remembered all the times he had tried to feel this way. All the times he’d tried to imagine what it would feel like to touch Howard and be touched in return.

“I didn’t really ask guys to call me Little Man,” Vince explained between kisses, “Some of them did cause I talked about you and… I guess I was a bit thick. I didn’t realize they were doing it to get a leg over or talk me into things I maybe wouldn’t have done with a stranger. I just liked pretending I was with you.”

Howard wrapped his arms around Vince tightly, protectively, “I didn’t know.”

“I just want to make you happy, Howard. I’m sorry I keep messing up. I’m sorry I got pissed instead of taking care of you, I’m sorry I let you drink so much…”

“I’m not a child, Vince. I don’t need a minder…”

“But you’ve been hurt and…” Vince tried to keep his voice steady as the tears came, “I want to take care of you.”

“You’re always saving me from something…”

“That’s not the same! I retrieve you and you… go back to being you. You never let me coddle you a bit or talk about what went on. It’s straight back to the banter like nothing happened. Even when I brought you back from Monkey Hell, you wouldn’t talk about it afterwards and then I couldn’t talk about it…”

Howard was tensing up and Vince could see him pulling into himself. It wouldn’t be long before Howard started saying something like, “I’m a man of few words, a serious man…” or some other Howardy bullshit meant to keep Vince at arm’s length.

Howard had been gone for hours before Fossil told Vince that the ‘mustache man’ was sleeping on the job, handed Vince a stick, and sent him to wake Howard up.

The only thing that kept Vince going were the reassuring words of Naboo as he led him away from Howard’s body so the medics could do their job. He kept trying to go back for one more kiss on the cheek, one more apology, and Bambridge was threatening to have him tranquilized.

“You can’t get rid of that ballbag that easily,” Naboo said in a solemn tone, “he’ll be back soon enough. Now where’s my walkman? I lent it to you a week ago.”

Howard was fussing with his rollneck and hair, subtly sending the message he was not to be touched as he stared over Vince’s head.

“What was there to say? It all worked out in the end.”

As well as he knew Howard, there were times the Northerner went all cold and Vince was at a loss. If he were sober, Vince probably would have given up and retreated before Howard started to lash out but he was still feeling the effects of countless hurricanes.  And the effect of being without Howard for nearly a week.

“I know I’m a pain in the arse but if you had to bury me, I think you’d be a bit bothered,” Vince said, trying and failing to keep his tone light. Howard looked pained but remained silent and untouchable.

“I promised myself that when I found a way to bring you back that I’d tell you how much I loved you and how I just wanted to be with you and if you didn’t want the sex part then maybe we could cuddle sometimes so I didn’t have to keep looking for someone else, but you kept shutting me down and making jokes…”

“I don’t deserve you,” Howard said quietly.

“No, but you’re stuck with me anyway,” Vince teased. Howard gave a weak chuckle that turned into a sob. Vince hovered as the taller man wrapped his arms around himself, like he was trying to literally hold himself together. Vince tried to stroke his arm but Howard whispered, “Don’t touch me.”

It was like a kick in the gut. Vince watched helplessly as the person he loved more than anyone in the world wept. He wanted to call Sally, but he was afraid it would upset Howard even more. Naboo would be useless. Howard’s mum certainly didn’t know how to cheer her son up. He was always in a frightful mood when they talked.

“Do you know what it means, to miss New Orleans?” Vince sang, his voice sounding weak and fearful to his own ears.

“No!” Howard yelled, slapping his hands over his ears and sliding to the floor. Vince thought over the past few days and tried to remember exactly what it was that Sally did that made Vince feel so much better. He couldn’t think of any particular thing and yet she’d saved his sanity.

She was just there. When anyone else would have run away, she was there.

Vince lowered himself to the ground in front of Howard.

“You deserve to be taken care of, Howard. Just ‘cause the people ‘round you aren’t very good at takin’ care of you don’t mean you don’t deserve it.”

“Please don’t…”

“You deserve to be loved, too, and I love you and I’m glad you’re still alive.”

Howard was curled up in a ball, fighting so hard not to feel his feelings that it hurt to watch. Vince thought about some of the dreams he’d had while Howard was missing, and the things Howard had said under the influence of Euphorika. He felt scared and out of his depth, but he pushed on.

“And you deserve to be alive and you don’t deserve the things that happened to you.”

The way Howard’s body tensed told Vince he was on the right track, but he was still afraid. If he was wrong, he’d only make things worse.

“And those things happened to you. Wantin’ to stay alive isn’t bein’ weak, it’s bein’ human and I’m so glad you’re still here. If it happened to me…”

“You don’t understand,” Howard growled.

“If it happened to me, you wouldn’t blame me or think I was…” Vince searched for a word, “damaged. You’d play music that I liked and bake me cakes and boss me around so I’d know you cared and thought I was special.”

Howard impatiently wiped at the tears on his face, clearly annoyed by their presence. Vince could hear Howard’s thoughts as clearly as if he’d spoken them.

“But you are special.”

Vince scooted over until he was sitting next to Howard, leaving just a fraction of space between them.

“You are special, Howard. You’re the best person I know. You been through everything and survived but you still don’t think you’re special. That is mental. I rode a turtle from outer space to get you back. I wouldn’t do that for just anyone.”

Howard laughed a little and sniffed, “I was a bit disapointed Dr. John wasn’t somehow involved.”

“We ain’t left the city yet…” without thinking, Vince put his head on Howard’s shoulder. He waited to be pushed away but instead, Howard placed his head on Vince’s – the way he had on the alligator tour.

Vince was lost in his memories when Howard’s mouth closed over his. It was a tenative kiss, as though there could ever be a doubt that Vince wanted a kiss from Howard. Vince kept his own touches light and unthreatening but Howard was already stroking Vince’s thigh.

“Do you want to go to the bed?” Howard asked, not quite looking at Vince.

Vince jumped to his feet and pulled Howard up with him.

“‘Course I want to go to bed with you! I’ve always wanted that!” Vince laughed nervously, “I do, you know, want to go to bed with you, but only when you’re ready. Don’t worry about that, Howard. It’s not a big deal.”

Howard nodded his head in the over-eager way that meant he had no idea what Vince was saying. Vince would bet money Howard was taking it as some kind of insult.

Vince chucked his beads and boots and struggled out of his tight trousers. Howard was changing into his pajamas on the other side of the bed. There were only thin scars left from his ordeal. Vince could see Old Gregg’s fingers digging into Howard’s flesh and remembered trying to reassure Howard that he would be all right. After all that had happened, it was still strange to see proof that the dreams had been real.

When Howard caught Vince staring, Vince couldn’t stop apologizing, even though it was just making Howard more and more uncomfortable.

Once they were under the covers, Howard quickly resumed their kissing, tugging Vince’s shirt up and over his head. Vince was feeling a little unsure of how to proceed but Howard was kissing his way down Vince’s chest at an alarming pace. The first man Vince had ever slept with had a mustache and was from Yorkshire. He’d been old and boring to talk to but it had been so easy to close his eyes and just focus on the feel of a mustache tickling his belly and thighs. It wasn’t until Howard planted a warm kiss on Vince’s cock through his y-fronts that Vince’s brain caught up to the situation at hand.

“Howard, you don’t have to…”

“I want to, just relax. I’ve not done this before,” Howard said, softly adding, “Not with anyone.”

Vince held Howard’s head in place before he could go pack to mouthing Vince through his pants, “Howard, you gotta be honest ‘cause I’m not sure. Is this making you feel better or worse?”

Howard didn’t meet Vince’s eyes but his voice was firm, “I’ll feel better if I can make you feel good.”

“You always make me feel good,” Vince argued, “I’ll take a cuddle or some kissin’. Don’t have to be sex.”

“It would make me feel normal.”

Vince released his grip on Howard’s head and slowly stroked his wavy dark hair as Howard ran his lips along Vince’s erection. Vince was leaking by the time Howard pulled his pants down and took him directly into his mouth.

It had been a long time for Vince. With time, it had gotten harder and harder to pretend other people were Howard. Everything was always wrong because they were strangers. He’d always known sex with Howard would be special because they knew one another so well. They had history. Vince couldn’t pretend some guy fucking him with a picture of his allegedly ex-wife still on the bedside was his best friend. A guy from Leeds whispering, “I’m gonna fuck you stupid, Little Man,” didn’t really capture the feel of what he wanted with Howard.

“I’m almost there,” Vince warned after an embarrassingly short period of time, but he had no regrets when he saw the pleased look in Howard’s eyes, “You’re amazin’, Howard. You’re so sexy. Okay, Howard, you should stop before I come. Um… nowish.”

Howard lowered his lips to the base of Vince’s cock and it was all over. Vince couldn’t hold off his orgasm, not even thinking about Bob Fossil in a Hawaiian skirt.

Vince tried to watch Howard for signs of distress but it was all a bit too much. When Vince was able to pry his eyes back open, Howard was nervously rubbing at his mustache.

Vince pulled him down on to the bed and kissed him. He was slow as he moved his hand to Howard’s cock, checking to make sure Howard was ready for the intimate touch. Howard sighed as Vince wrapped his fingers around the bulge in his pajama pants, but got less hard the more VInce stroked him until Vince moved his hand to Howard’s hips. Howard squeezed his eyes shut.

“I’m sorry,” he said.

“You’re not sorry,” Vince said, holding him tight nuzzling his neck, “You’re beautiful and special.”

“You’re a nutter.”

“With excellent taste. Unlike you,” Vince said with a mock scowl, “Now what musty old jazz song do you want me to sing tonight?”

Howard gave a tiny smile, “Sing me some Bowie.”

“Ziggy played guitar, jamming good with Weird and Gilly and the Spiders from Mars…”