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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Notes: This is a dark story dealing with rape, child neglect, drug use, abandonment, death, PTSD and all those potentially triggery concepts. While it’s also silly at times and ultimately a story about overcoming struggles, BE WARNED!

This is an epic, angsty and possibly very triggery piece. Rape and non-consensual sex are explored from violent attacks to manipulation and how a victim is re-victimized by stereotypes and assumptions. There’s also loss and child neglect and mental illness. While it is ultimately a very positive story about survival, it is not for everybody!

Let the Good Times Roll by concupid

[nextpage title=”Chapter 1″]

Chapter 1: The Hitcher

He’s a cockney nutjob, yes. He’s a monster and he’ll stab you up as soon as look at ya, but he ain’t all bad. Did he rape a porpoise? Yes. He freely admits it. He’s not proud, the porpoise was a bit of a slag, but a man has needs.

Go ahead, call him a baddie. Say he ain’t got no right living on this earth, staining the soil with his potent cockney urine. He won’t argue. Just don’t call ‘im a bad father. When that porpoise turned up to be up the duff, the Hitcher took responsibility. He looked at that disgusting man fish with a mangina and said, “It’s the son I never wanted and the daughter I would have drowned at birth, except she has gills. Oh, I’ll raise him up right. He’ll be a better man than I and a better woman than I’ll ever have.” Then he got bored and dumped his only son/daughter in Black Lake. He didn’t neglect his spawn. No, never let it be said that Old Greggory went without Bailey’s or watercolors. When Gregg complained of being lonely, The Hitcher brought him Rick James. Too bad Rick James scared the little merman with his bizarre sexual proclivities and penchant for “love games.”  Old Gregg set Rick James free and tried to find his own friends. Those friends are now mounted on the wall of his murky cave. Luckily, the Funk showed up and Old Gregg was happy for a time.

Then he met Howard Moon. The Northerner stole Gregg’s heart and the Funk, leaving Gregg more alone and more insane than ever.

And that’s saying something.

Old Gregg called to his old man and said, “Please, Dad, please help me find my fuzzy little man peach. I don’t want to be alone. Old Gregg is lonely.”

The Hitcher looked at his boy, his hideous and ungodly spawn with his sad blue eyes and did what he knew he had to do. He reached out to stab his son/daughter in the gut.

It’s a proud moment in a father’s life when his son turns a knife on him. Before the Hitcher even got close, Old Gregg had slashed his wrist and was threatening to use his old dad’s intestines to decorate his cave.

“I’m Old Gregg and I’m lonely! Find me Howard Moon and bring him to me. I want to feel his strong arms around me. I want him to take my dainty hand in marriage. I want to bake my famous crumble and hold him until he gets old and dies. Then I’ll snuggle his desiccated corpse.”

“Howard Moon! I know the bloke! I have generously opted not to rape him on several occasions although he obviously deserves a raping. You don’t wear a mustache if you don’t want to be raped,” the Hitcher exclaimed, trying to hold his guts inside his skin. Gregg had slashed him up a treat. Like father like fishy bastard.

“I love him. I need him. I’m Old Gregg.”

“Oh, you are a crazy son of a bitch and I love you. Let me have me intestines and I’ll be on my way to bring you your true love. One Howard Moon, coming up.”

[nextpage title=”Chapter 2″]

Chapter 2

Howard did a double take when he saw Vince with a head of shiny golden hair.

“You’ve stopped dying your hair?” Howard asked in surprise.

“This ain’t my real color! My real color is well mousey. I looked like a golden retriever after a mud bath.”

“I always thought you looked nice with yellow hair,” observed Howard, “like a dandelion.”

“That’s not a good look, is it, Howard? Not much call for dandelion people at the clubs. No one wants a weed,” Vince explained, “P. Diddy don’t want to be seen with crabgrass, does he?”

“Then why are you dyeing yourhair yellow if you don’t want to look like a dandelion?”

“I ain’t finished yet, am I? I still got to add the green and purple highlights.”

Howard tried to imagine what Vince intended to do. Howard prided himself on his quick and virile mind but he was baffled as to how Vince thought purple and green highlights would look good. Howard had known Vince as a scrawny, knock-kneed little boy wearing rock shirts long enough to be dresses. No matter how Vince tried to transform himself, the same guileless blue eyes dominated his noisy face. All the accessories were superfluous. How could anyone look at anything but those bush baby eyes?

“For Mardi Gras! They’re the official colors. I’m going to look amazin’! It’ll be genius. I’ll be the king of New Orleans!”

“New Orleans is the cradle of jazz. We’re going to walk the streets whereLouis Armstrong was raised, where King Oliver played the houses of ill repute. We’ll be able to ride the riverboats that served as floating conservatories for some of the greatest jazz musicians who ever lived…”

“And they got swamp tours where you can hold a baby alligator!” Vince added with an enthusiastic clap of his hands. “And I’m having’ my tits out for anyone who asks until I can make a whole outfit of beads. Imagine that!”

Howard shook his head as his now blond friend pulled up his purple blouse to flash his nipples at an imaginary man on an imaginary balcony.

“Stop fussing with Stationery Village and help me with my hair,” Vince implored, his big blue eyes looking ethereal under his golden fringe.

Howard pulled off the white latex gloves that he wore to dust StationeryVillage, and put on the purple latex gloves he wore to help Vince dyehis hair.

xxx

Vince stroked the baby alligator between its eyes. He couldn’t understand the alligators at all. Their accents were as bad as the humans’. After getting tutored in school by Howard Moon, Vince thought he’d never have trouble understanding anyone ever again. If he could understand Howard’s Northern accent well enough to learn algebra, he should be able to understand anything.

He watched enough American telly, he thought he’d be fine in the States. He wasn’t prepared for a southern accent that didn’t sound like Scarlett O’Hara’s. The local accent was thicker than Nutella on a cold day. If you tried to smear their tour guide’s accent on bread, your bread would get well ripped up.

Howard explained the motto ‘Laissez les bons temps rouler’, or ‘Let the good times roll’, derived from the uncertainty of life in early colonial life. No one expected to live very long anyway so they were always having it large in the Big Easy. Vince liked that New Orleans was dark and depressing, but in a fun way, like Howard. No matter how much Howard banged on about the city being to blame for the birth of jazz, Vince still loved New Orleans. He’d been off his tits for days, waking up and drinking a Bloody Mary in order to face another day of eating and drinking. Of all the jazzers Howard loved, Louis Armstrong was one of the more tolerable. His songs weren’t all depressing and they mostly had words. During the day, Howard dragged him to museums and on educational tours (today it was the swamp tour!) and at night they wandered from bar to bar – seeing all the different bands. Howard wouldn’t let them split up because he was afraid of getting stabbed up and thrown in the river, so they took turns picking bands to listen to.

There were parades every day and Vince had enough beads to reinvent his entire wardrobe and he hadn’t shown his tits to anyone.  Yet.

Howard had been paranoid when he’d won the all expenses paid trip to New Orleans and Vince had to talk him in to going. Howard kept wondering how he’d been entered into the contest in the first place; but Vince frequently handed out Howard’s information in order to get free gifts, so it didn’t seem strange to Vince at all. They finally agreed that if they saw anyone following them when they arrived in New Orleans, they would run to security and beg for asylum. So far, so good. The only people following them were drunk girls and a few drunk guys. Even Howard could have pulled if he tried (with the girls or the guys. One guy kept calling him PapaBear). The girls liked his accent and thought his mustache was well British. Vince kept his mouth shut and let the girls imagine there was a place in the world where Howard was fashionable.

At the end of every night, they stumbled back to their hotel room on Decatur Street and passed out in their respective beds alone. Since moving in together over Naboo’s shop, they had taken to spending more of their evenings apart. Howard spent his evenings at boring jazz clubs or with his boring jazz friends while Vince went out to interesting places and had fun. It was nice to hang out with Howard again like in the old days.

Vince begrudgingly handed over the baby alligator to Howard. Howard gently stroked the gator between the eyes as Vince had done.

“Does he like this?” Howard asked.

“Dunno. His accent is well thick. He’s from the bayou all right.”

Howard laughed and passed the alligator to the next passenger. Vince noticed a sad look in Howard’s eyes and rubbed his shoulder against his friend’s.

“Makes you miss the zoo, eh?”

Howard puffed himself up, “What? Of course not. The zoo was rubbish. We barely had any real animals…”

“But it wasn’t always like that.”

The air went out of Howard, “No. It used to be something special. I wish you could have seen it when Tommy was there.”

Vince rested his head on Howard’s shoulder as the tour guide answered questions about alligators in his inscrutable accent. Maybe it was because he was feeling sentimental or maybe it was because he was in a strange land but instead of pushing him away, Howard rested his cheek on Vince’s head.

xxx

Howard was dancing with a girl. Vince was dancing with five girls but that wasn’t anything new. Girls loved dancing with Vince, but Howard? Howard was dancing with a real, live, beautiful girl. The music was too loud for him to ruin it with his jazzy nonsense and the girl was gazing up at him like he was some kind of Prince Charming.

Howard was going to pull.

Vince wasn’t the slightest bit surprised when Howard pulled him outside to talk about having some ‘private time’ with his ‘young lady friend’.

Howard’s eyes kept shifting between Vince and his girl, like he was afraid she’d vanish if he looked away too long.

“This is a dangerous city, yeah? I don’t want you wandering the streets alone. Maybe you could stay in the lobby…”

“I’m not hanging out in the lobby while you’re shagging some bird in our room…”

“She’s not ‘some bird’, she’s a lovely and interesting…”

“What’s her name?”

“Eileen? Irene? It was loud in there but the point is…”

“You’ve got two hours. In two hours, I will be sat on the couch in the lobby waitin’ for you to come get me. You wait too long and I’m coming up.”

Howard agreed with some reticence and headed off with the new love of his life, whatever-her-name-was. He called out daddish warnings over his shoulder to Vince about not talking to strangers and keeping his wallet pinned to his clothing as his female companion laughed and called him sweet.

Vince wanted to be happy for Howard. He decided to drink Hurricanes until he was happy.

xxx

Two girls escorted Vince back to his hotel. He wasn’t actually blind but he could see where there term ‘blind drunk’ came from. The girls seemed a bit disappointed when he told them they weren’t going upstairs and his hotel room was occupied. After a few warning glares from the desk clerk, Vince did his best to sit up and look proper.

He didn’t recall passing out but the clerk was standing over him and gently suggesting he return to his room. His tone was kind but his eyes were flint so Vince staggered to the elevator. The heaving movement was almost too much to bear and he crawled to his room on his hands and knees. After knocking loudly and allowing time for frantic dressing, he pushed the door open. Howard’s bed was rumpled but empty, as was the shower. Vince called him on his cell phone and heard the muffled ring coming from the safe. It took him a few times to open the safe because Howard had used Vince’s birthday as the code.

Eventually, Vince remembered his real birthday was written on his passport. After taking a moment to cringe at his real age, he opened the safe and found Howard’s cell phone and wallet.

Vince called down to the front desk and was assured that while Howard had come in with a young lady and appeared’highly intoxicated’, he did not leave. Vince checked under the bed and in the closet just to be sure.

Then he called the police.

[nextpage title=”Chapter 3″]

Chapter 3

“I think your boy can take care of ‘imself,” Irene teased. “I heard ‘im talk, sounds like ‘e’s got a little cockney in ‘im.”

Howard nodded and looked over his shoulder, just in case Vince was chasing after him, begging not to be left alone.

He wasn’t.

He’d probably already been stabbed.

Howard started walking back towards the bar but Eileen/Irene held his arm tightly.

“‘e’s a big boy, ‘e’ll be fine on ‘is own.”

“He’s really quite naive. He just assumes he’ll get on with anybody he meets,” Howard explained, his tongue thoroughly loosened by too many drinks. “Just because he does get on with everyone he meets doesn’t mean there won’t come a time…”

Howard was distracted by being pulled down by the collar into a passionate kiss. The feeling of a strange tongue in his mouth should have made Howard queasy, but there was something familiar about Eileen/Irene. She had big, clear, blue eyes and a way of tilting her head up to look at him that made him feel ten feet tall.

Not that there should be anything familiar about that. The only woman who had ever looked at him like that was his mother, and she was usually stoned and simply marveling that he was able to do things like find the car keys (on the key-shaped key holder he’d made) or the spare car keys (locked in his room for occasions when he was unable to intercept the keys from his intoxicated parents and put them on the key holder before they were lost).

“I’m sure ‘e’ll be fine for a few ‘ours,” she murmured as she ran her hands over his chest, “even without ‘is ‘usband lookin’ out for ‘im.”

“What part of America are you from?” Howard asked, belatedly noticing her strange accent getting thicker.

“I’m from everywhere. I guess you could say I’ve been around,” she said with a cheeky smile.

Howard wrapped his arms around her slim waist and looked into her all-too-lovely eyes. “I’m sorry. What did you say your name was?”

“It’s Elsie, my boy. They call me Elsie.”

The name rang a warning bell somewhere in Howard’s drunken mind, but it was muffled by entirely too much rum. Howard had spent his whole life being the responsible one; first for his parents and then for Vince. It couldn’t hurt to, just this once, ignore the obnoxiously pedantic angel on his shoulder (who seemed more interested in curfews and organized stationery than actual morality) and do something that felt wrong.

xxx

Howard’s head was swimming as he staggered toward the room he was sharing with Vince. The Hurricanes Elsie had been forcing down his throat had clearly gone to his head and his stomach. He could never tolerate the sugary drinks that Vince considered a fifth food group (the first four being crisps, wine gums, licorice, and chocolate) but he could hardly refuse the beautiful Elsie. When Elsie pushed him down on the bed, he was grateful to be on his back and put one foot down to keep the room from spinning.

“Oh, ‘oward. I’m starin’ ta think some’un put somefink in your drink. You don’t look well.”

Howard barely registered the words as Elsie straddled his waist. He dearly hoped he wasn’t going to be sick.

“I’m normally a moderate drinker. Old ‘Moderate Moon,’ they call me. Howard Moon doesn’t usually go in for excess, but in the company of a lovely young lady like yourself – I was inclined to make an exception.”

Elsie smiled and stroked the side of Howard’s face. “I do hope you is a gentleman, Mr. Moon. I’d ‘ate to fink I’m gettin’ messed up wif a cad.”

Howard put his hand over Elsie’s smaller one. “I’m no cad. Howard Moon is, first and foremost, a gentleman.”

He kissed her palm lightly before she began stroking her fingers through his hair. He was glad he’d used some of Vince’s shampoo and his mane was looking rather shiny and manageable.

“Good,” Elsie whispered into his ear, “cause you hear stories about these men who pretend to be in love, only to rob and abandon their future brides – leavin’ ‘em heartbroke and more than a little insane.”

“I would never do that.”

The hand tightened painfully in his hair, “S’at right, Moon? So you’ve never abandoned some’un who loved you? Took his only friend while you was at it?”

Howard pressed the small hands into his skull, until she was forced to release her grip – his zoo training was the closest he’d ever come to self-defense courses. The hands simply moved to his throat. He struggled and managed to throw Elsie off of him and onto the floor.

“Old Gregg?” he asked, his throat feeling bruised from the inside out.

“Actually, I’m ‘is old dad, and you done my son wrong. I’m ‘ere to make it right.”

The lovely Elsie transformed into the monstrous Hitcher, only the wide blue eyes remaining the same. The same eyes as Old Gregg.

xxx

Howard tried to open his eyes, but he couldn’t see. It took him a few minutes to realize he was tied up and apparently blindfolded.

Exactly what he’d expected to happen in New Orleans if he and Vince were separated. He should have never strayed from the itinerary.

He was trying to get his bearings when something was jammed down his throat and he began gagging.

“Best ya be sick now, ‘fore I put the gag on ya. Don’t want you to asphyxiate ‘fore the weddin’, now do we?”

Howard did his best not to be sick on himself, but once the spasms hit his stomach, they didn’t stop. He felt like he was vomiting up everything he’d taken in since arriving in New Orleans. The taste of his own bile was infinitely preferable to that of the Hitcher’s bony finger.

“Ah, you’ve gone and pissed ya’self, my boy.”

Howard hadn’t even noticed the warmth in his pants until then; he was still shaking and sweating.

“I’d love to piss on ya meself, but my boy’s a bit of the jealous type. ‘e’s also a bit of the murderin’ psychopath type, so I’m just gonna have a piss on this crackhead over here,” the Hitcher explained as he jammed a cloth into Howard’s mouth and covered it with what felt like duct tape.

Howard could hear the absurdly strong stream of urine in the distance. He fought vainly against his restraints, but it was a matter of minutes until he was tossed in the trunk of a vehicle. He tried to be like Sherlock Holmes and listen for clues – use his remaining senses. Instead, he promptly passed out.

xxx

Vince took Howard’s cash card to an ATM. Howard had wisely never told him the PIN number, but Vince got it on the first try. It was his birthdate again. He was shocked by the amount of money Howard had managed to save up, considering how little they had always made. Vince wanted to go shopping, surround himself in beautiful things that would make him feel secure, but he only took out enough for food. He had no idea how long it would take to track down Howard or what expenses he might encounter. The death cab had been quite pricey.

Vince’s eyes stung with the idea that Howard might be dead. Again.

It was different not being on his home turf. He didn’t even have Naboo to help. He and Bollo were off with the Shaman Council in Brazil for Carnival. He wouldn’t be answering his phone (or seeing straight) for at least a week.

He was on his own, in a strange country and surrounded by people he could barely understand. The police weren’t bothered that Howard was missing. It hadn’t been long enough for him to be considered properly missing, and the sergeant had been under the very wrong impression that Howard might have acted impulsively under the influence of alcohol and a lovely stranger.

When Howard had been accidentally dosed with acid (by his crazy hippy parents), he’d come straight round to Vince’s and sat on their couch, drinking tea, chasing away imaginary spiders, and helping Vince with his maths homework. Vince had wanted to coddle Howard then, having learned from his parents that ‘drugs are bad,’ but the older boy would have none of it. He would only allow Vince to inspect his biscuits and tea for spiders as he tried to carry on like nothing was amiss.

Howard wasn’t impulsive, and if Howard said he would be somewhere, he was there.

Vince walked to an outdoor cafe and ate beignets as he sketched a picture of Eileen/Irene. He had a good memory for faces, especially pretty girl faces. He drew her blue eyes first, but when he was done, he knew it was wrong. The eyes needed to be bigger.

His hand was shaking as he finished the portrait. It would be good enough to show to the police and the local bars. He would do just that tonight, but first, it was back to the hotel. He needed to book a swamp tour.

[nextpage title=”Chapter 4″]

Chapter 4

Vince dangled as far off the boat as he could while a couple of lovely young ladies held onto his legs.

“He’s a funky merman in a tutu. You can’t miss him.”

“Whatchu sayin’?” replied the alligator.

“He’s half fish, half man, half Rick James. He’s got a kind of seaweed gheri curl.” Vince had only seen Old Gregg once. He’d saved Howard from his funky sea lovin’ on the night of Howard’s birthday. They should have both known the pencil case girl was too good to be true. When she had eagerly agreed to flirt with Howard for money, Vince should have sent her Diva Zappa-looking ass packing.

“You on the drugs, boy?” asked the alligator, with judgmental eyes.

“No, he’s real, and I think he’s in Louisiana somewhere, and he’s got my best mate… my best friend, Howard Moon. He’s tall and has little eyes, likes jazz and stationery.”

“The fish-man?”

“No, Howard! The fish-man is shorter than Howard and has blue eyes. Let me show you their pictures.”

Vince crawled back into the boat and grabbed his sketchpad.

“Wha’ he say, boy?” asked the captain as he helped Vince stretch out towards the alligator. “Always wondered what they think ‘bout, sunnin’ themselves on the rocks.”

“He thinks I’m on drugs,” Vince explained as he held out a drawing of Howard and one of Old Gregg.

“Is you?” asked the captain as he gripped Vince’s ankles.

“No! I’m just trying to save my best friend from being forcibly married to a sea monster.”

“You is on drugs, ain’t you?” the alligator asked, his lack of faith troubling Vince.

“I’m dead sober. Howard’s my best mate, and I don’t know what I’ll do… Please, help me.”

The alligator nodded his head, and everyone on the boat gasped.

“Coincidence,” snorted the captain.

The gator shook his head no and said, “Tell that cap’in a yours not to be so haughty. An’ tell’im to throw me another marshmallow. Them is tasty.”

“He wants another marshmallow,” Vince translated. He waited for the confection to be tossed before adding, “And he thinks you’re full of yourself.”

“I’ll spread the word through the swamp. I sun on this rock pretty regular, if you needs to find me. Good day to ya, pretty lady-man.”

With that, the alligator climbed back into the water and swam away.

xxx

Howard gagged on the thick and creamy liquid being forced down his throat.

Bailey’s. Of all the things Old Gregg and the Hitcher could have been forcing down his throat, Howard welcomed the Bailey’s. It tasted of beige.

“That’s right, Howard. Wake up now. You’re back with Old Gregg, my fuzzy little man peach. We’re gonna be married. I’m Old Gregg!”

“‘e knows you’re Old Gregg! Not like ‘e’s gonna get you confused wit’ sum’un else now, is ‘e?” the Hitcher lectured in an almost fatherly way.

Old Gregg looked into his father’s eyes. “I’m Old Gregg!”

xxx

“I’m fine with what I have on, really, Old Gregg. You needn’t make a fuss. I’ll just keep on what I’m wearing.”

Howard’s clothes were wet with sweat, urine, and vomit, but he really didn’t want to take his clothes off anywhere near Old Gregg. The Hitcher seemed to be gone, but there was no knowing when he’d return. He’d only said he was off for a good rape and pillage. How long did that take? An hour? A year?

“But Old Gregg has nice clothes for you. Nice, creamy beige clothes to go with your little shifty brown eyes.”

The merman looked so sincere and eager to please, one could almost forget he was a psychotic murderer.

“Thank you, Greggory. That’s very thoughtful of you.”

“Is it? Is Old Gregg thoughtful?”

Howard froze, unsure of how to proceed.

“Answer me. It’s rude not to answer a question. Old Gregg doesn’t like being treated rudely.”

“You’re very thoughtful, Old Gregg. Thank you for the clothes. Where can I go and change?” Howard answered, his voice cracking with nerves. As a child, Howard had spent a lot of time in the care of his Nan, before she was diagnosed as being bipolar. He tried to remember the techniques he’d used to deal with her – people had always marveled at his ability to get along with Nan Moon.

“You can change right here. You’ve seen Old Gregg, now Old Gregg wants to see you.”

His tone was almost sweet. Howard’s hands were shaking.

“I’d rather… maintain a little mystery? Save something for…”

“Our honeymoon?” Old Gregg asked, his eyes lighting up.

“Yes! We want that to be a special night, not sully it with a lot of pre-marital nudity, so if you could point me in the direction of a private room…”

“This is it. This is my home,” Gregg explained as he waved his hand around the small, dank cave. “It’s humble, but it’s home. That’s what Dad says. Dad says I can’t live in Black Lake no more, because your pretty little friend would find us.”

Howard grabbed at his chest as the claustrophobia set in. He was trapped in a tiny cave, God knew where, with Old Gregg.

Vince will find me. He always finds me.

“Old Gregg doesn’t like your pretty little friend. Your pretty little friend keeps us apart. Why does he do that?” Old Gregg asked with a slight edge in his voice. “Why doesn’t he want Old Gregg to be happy?”

Howard remembered two things that had helped him survive time spent with Nan Moon. Failing to find a sofa to hide under, Howard went with the second option: abject cowardice.

“He wants you to be happy, Old Gregg! I want you to be happy. Everyone wants you to be happy. What can I do to make you happy?” Howard asked with what he hoped was a nice smile.

“You can put on the clothes Old Gregg brought you.”

Howard took the beige clothes from Old Gregg’s hands. It was a vintage beige suit, perhaps from the early 1950’s, and in very good shape.

“This is very nice. Where did you get this?”

“It was supposed to be a suit for a marriage but the groom ran away from his lovely bride,” Old Gregg explained, holding Howard’s gaze without a blink. Howard’s knees felt a bit weak. He wondered what had happened to the husband-to-be, but he didn’t dare ask.

“So if you could just turn your back, I’ll change,” Howard said, aiming for cheerful but sounding terrified to his own ears.

“Oh no. Old Gregg knows better than to turn his back on someone. Especially a slippery character like yourself. You don’t want to go running away from me again, do you? That wouldn’t be nice.”

“You could… close your eyes?” Howard asked, afraid of pushing too hard.

“Or I could keep them open.”

“That works, too.”

“Thank you, sir.”

Howard gave a terse nod and began to strip. He hadn’t felt so self-conscious about his body since he’d had his third nipple removed. Well, had it transformed into a third ear, a nostril, and then a beetle, which had scurried away and never come back. He had to admit that in the end, Naboo’s magic had freed him of his superfluous nipple, but it had been an unnecessarily painful process. Naboo said the magic was tricky. Howard thought it might have gone easier if Naboo hadn’t eaten shrooms first.

Old Gregg made approving noises as Howard disrobed, causing the man to blush from his hairline to his feet. When he was down to his pants, he couldn’t decide which way to turn. He didn’t want Old Gregg seeing him from the front but he also didn’t want to turn his back on Old Gregg.

For several reasons.

He compromised by doing his best to jump into the dress slacks while covering his manhood with his hand.

The trousers were short in the leg and big in the waist. The dress shirt was short in the arms yet hung nearly to his knees. He put on the suit jacket, wanting as many layers as possible, but opted to leave the tie off. He didn’t need to help anyone strangle him. Old Gregg and the Hitcher surely had plenty of experience in that arena.

“You look nice, Howard. Very handsome and manly.” Gregg’s tone was gentle and almost awestruck.

“Thank you, Gregg. And thank you for the clean clothes. Your old man was a bit rough on me,” Howard said in what he hoped was a neutral tone.

“Oh yes. Father can be quite hard, but he loves me.”

“Is that why he keeps you in a cave at the bottom of the Mississippi?”

“Yes, sir. He always makes sure I have a nice place to live, and now we won’t have to worry about your pretty friend.”

Howard sat down on one of the two chairs in the cave before his knees buckled.

“You mean because he doesn’t know where we are, right? You aren’t going to do anything to him, are you?”

“What do you mean, Howard? What would I do to your pretty little friend?”

The menace was clear in his tone.

“Gregg, don’t… Please don’t hurt Vince. I’m begging you, please don’t…”

“Why, motherlicker?” Gregg was quickly across the room and yanking Howard’s head back by the hair. “Why should I care about your little friend? He’s trying to keep you from me. He’s a bad man.”

“He’s not bad. He just doesn’t understand,” Howard whimpered.

“What doesn’t he understand, sir?”

“Our love? He doesn’t know how much I love you, Gregg. If I tell him, he’ll understand and he won’t be any bother. Just let me talk to him…”

His head hit the table and was pulled back before he had time to register anything but pain.

“You’re not going anywhere, Howard Moon. Old Gregg is trying to forgive you, but he can’t trust you.”

It felt like there was an awful lot of blood coming from his head. Old Gregg was smiling.

“I’m sorry, Gregg.”

He loosened his grip on Howard’s hair and began stroking his fingers through the blood-matted curls.

“You’ve got a cut on your forehead. Old Gregg will fix it up for you. Old Gregg is first aid certified.”

“Thank you, Greggory.”

[nextpage title=”Chapter 5″]

Chapter 5

Howard curled up as tightly as possible under the couch. His heart was beating so loudly he could barely hear his mother’s voice.

“Howie? Howie? Did you sneak some of Mummy’s cookies? Howie? Did you eat the cookies Mummy had hidden? Howie? Howie?”

Howard slowly nodded his head. He’d eaten the cookies. He’d thought cookies were safe.

Cakes were never safe, but cookies? He’d eaten cookies all his life (all five years) and never had a problem before today. The world had gone mad again.

He wondered if his heart was going to explode.

“Mummy? I don’t feel good. I’m scared.”

“Howie! It’s okay, come to Mummy. Let Mummy hold you.”

Howard wanted a nice, safe-feeling hug, but comfort couldn’t come from his mother. As much as he loved her, she was the main source of chaos in his life. She caused his problems; she couldn’t save him from herself.

xxx

Howard looked at the fish on his plate. The fish looked back.

“Greggory… I hate to be difficult, but… I can’t actually eat a fish with its scales still on. It’s a human thing. Our teeth aren’t strong enough. It’s a nuisance, but there you go.”

Howard held his breath until Gregg responded. When the merman looked concerned (and not furious), Howard let out the breath he’d been holding.

“How do humans eat fish, Howard? What do you do with your weak little human teeth?”

“Well, Gregg, we cut off the scales. And the head. Pull out the bones. Flavor it with some spices, and… cook it.”

Old Gregg laughed. “You’re playing games with Old Gregg. You’re a funny man. You’re making jokes with Old Gregg like you do with your pretty lady-man.”

Howard tensed at the reference to Vince.

“I’m being serious, Gregg. That’s how humans eat fish. I’m partial to a nice panko breading, side of chips…” Howard faltered under Gregg’s stare. “But this is fine. This is lovely. Have you got a knife?”

“Oh yes, Howard. Old Gregg has a knife.”

Howard just let the threat hang in the air. His forehead was still pounding from Old Gregg’s last burst of anger.

Old Gregg gave Howard an almost sweet smile as he plucked the fish from Howard’s plate. With a sharp incisor, Gregg gutted the fish. Soon, Howard had neat strips of raw fish on the plate in front of him.

“Did you learn that in home economics?” Howard asked with a forced laugh.

“I told you I made a crumble. You said you were happy for Old Gregg. Did you mean that?”

Howard swallowed loudly. “I am happy for you, Gregg. I’m sure life hasn’t been easy for you…”

“You have no idea what life is like for Old Gregg!”

Howard cowered in fear and felt a bit silly when Old Gregg remained seated and looking calm.

Howard hesitantly picked up a piece of raw fish. He thought of the sushi place he and Vince would occasionally visit. Vince would get pissed on his first sake, decide he didn’t like what he’d ordered, and proceed to eat everything off of Howard’s plate. Howard bit into the raw fish and imagined alcohol-glazed blue eyes staring up at him with unearned admiration.

“Mmmm,” Howard purred as he tried not to gag. “Yum.”

“Old Greg did good?”

“Mmmm.”

xxx

Two hours later, Howard was again drenched in sweat, but at least he had a bucket to vomit into. Gregg was surprisingly kind as Howard’s entire body rejected the rancid fish. He gratefully slipped into unconsciousness, his sweaty forehead pressed to the cold rock beneath him as Old Gregg held a cold, damp cloth to the back of Howard’s neck.

xxx

Howard slipped in and out of consciousness as Old Gregg stripped him of his now-ruined suit. Old Gregg’s hand were rough and scaly, but his touch was gentle as he ran his hands over Howard’s body. Howard dimly thought the touch seemed less lecherous than exploratory. Even as Gregg stroked him between his thighs, Howard was reminded more of Vince’s fumbling hand (was it sixteen years ago? Seventeen?) than of anyone else who had groped him over the years. Howard Moon: Groping Connoisseur. Howard barely stirred as Gregg stroked his flaccid penis and cupped his testicles like he was a prize-winning terrier. When Gregg tried to force a dry finger in his anus, Howard whimpered and Old Gregg quickly withdrew his digit. Howard wondered what Gregg had done with his previous companions, like old Curly Jefferson. During his first encounter with the merman, Howard had been waiting for the seemingly inevitable rape with the air of one who was used to seeing Murphy’s Law enacted every day of his life.

Now he was naked, weak, and helpless, and Old Gregg was giving him a feel-up whilst wiping the sweat from Howard’s brow with a damp cloth. It was horrible, but Howard had taken his first acid trip at the age of three – laced lemonade – and he knew how cruel the world could be. It was only a matter of time until things got worse. Perhaps following this sentiment, his brain blessedly decided to shut down for the night and let Gregg carry out his investigations in private.

xxx

“I thought I was just stupid, so I would act up, try to make people laugh so they would be laughing with me, you know, not at me. My parents got me a tutor when I was eleven, and I couldn’t do even the simplest math. Imagine that! They brought in this great big Northern bloke with tiny eyes and hands the size of me head. Oh, he was twelve feet tall at least, and about forty years old. Course, I realized later he’s only about 6’2 and he was sixteen at the time, but when you’re an eleven-year-old runt… It’s all about proportion, I guess. So this great Northern giant keeps asking me questions. I keep tryin’ to make him laugh or distract him, but he doesn’t want to hear it. He is dead serious about making me understand my maths homework, and I don’t want him to know I’m stupid, because he scares me but I want him to like me. I feel like I would be smarter and more mature if this guy liked me. I feel like that sometimes, like you’re a very sweet girl and I feel like if you like me, I’ll be a little bit sweeter. So he won’t stop quizzing me, until I break down and tell him the numbers keep moving around on the page and I can’t keep track of them. The next week, I’m tested for dyslexia. I’d still think I was stupid if it weren’t for him being such a bossy freak. My parents loved him after that. He was a real serious type, and me mum was always trying to get him to relax and eat. He was also real skinny, like sickly skinny. He was so nervous. It makes me happy when he gets a little belly now. For years and years, he was always on pins and needles, and now he can have a few pints and even a pastry and get a little beer belly. I always want to touch his tummy, but he won’t let me.”

Sally looked perplexed, Vince hoped it wasn’t his accent again. They’d spent an hour talking before she’d started to understand what Vince was saying.

“So… You are best friends with, and share an apartment with, your tutor from elementary school?”

“Bit more complicated than that, but yeah. That’s how I met Howard. That was the first time he saved me and I saved him.”

“He saved you from dyslexia, and you saved him from…?”

“His life. His life was rubbish. I helped him make a whole new one. A much better one.”

“Until he got abducted by a merman.”

Vince frowned. “Yeah. Until then.”

Sally sighed and took another sip of drink. “It must be the hurricanes talking, but yes, you can borrow my boat.”

[nextpage title=”Chapter 6″]

Chapter 6

Sally thought it was a yes or no question but clearly she was wrong. It was in fact a question that involved a long story including a cabin in the woods, a gorilla, a shaman, a man named Kodiak Jack and Yetis. Lots of horny Yetis.

“So Howard shows up lookin’ like he’s on his way to audition for ‘Hair’, like he’s gonna start singing ‘Let the Sunshine In’ at any minute. Oh, he had on this long robe and hippie face paint, a real flower child. His eyes were well glassy and he says his name is Parsley and starts singing this really catchy song about how we don’t need our friends and family and nothing is real. Naboo told me to stay punk and resist…”

Sally looked at Vince’s golden hair and sequined top. Even with the green and purple highlights, the word punk did not come to mind. Strange, androgynous, beautiful, confusing, delusional – those were words that described Vince, not punk.

“But then Naboo and Bollo were singing and dancing and Howard was smiling at me so nicely… It just seemed like a good idea, ya know?”

“So you started singing and dancing?” Sally asked as they walked from her truck to the pier. She wanted to hear the end of the story before she and Vince were alone in the swamp. He seemed sweet, but he also seemed unhinged and a girl needs to be careful.

“Everything went a bit fuzzy, like I’d been drinking champagne. The Yetis gave me a robe and put my hair in bunches…”

“Bunches?” Sally asked.

Vince used his hands to pull his hair into ponytails. “Bunches.”

“Gotcha.”

“And I guess they gave me the feather or maybe I did that… I don’t remember it very clearly but I was rocking a Pocahontas look and we was all dancing and singing and then the Yeti brought out this big fluffy bed…”

“So they could mate with the four of you?” Sally asked, She was trying to walk slowly, still wondering if she should just make a run for it.

“Apparently that’s what they do, though it don’t make much sense if you ask me.”

Sally was glad to hear Vince admit that at least this part of the story was lacking in logic.

“Anyway,” Vince continued, “Parsley put his arms around me and just held me… and I was thinking I could be called Bunches, cause of the hair but also because then we’d be Parsley Bunches or maybe Bunches of Parsley and we could start a folk duo. Not like the glam rock folk duo I had with Leroy, that didn’t work out at all.”

Sally was entranced by the story but also kept her hand on her bag, just in case she needed her gun. There seemed to be a lot of attempts at non-consensual sex happening in the story.

“So he was holding me and I was so happy…” Vince’s cheeks pinked slightly, “And then he started kissing me and moving me towards the bed.”

Now Sally’s cheeks were turning pink. Her lack of attraction to men in general didn’t keep her from enjoying a story of man-on-man loving.

“I remember lying on the bed, with the gown rucked up around my waist and Howard was on top of me, kissing me and… touching me and I think maybe getting me ready for, you know, and then…”

Sally actually leaned forward before catching herself and putting her hand back on her bag. She wasn’t going to end up dead at the bottom of a swamp because a beautiful androgynous man told her a dirty story.

“And then?”

Vince shook his head, as though coming out of a trance, “And then I woke up to the sound of a gunshot. Kodiak Jack was there and telling us to run. We were all on the bed and Bollo was between me’n’Howard so I don’t know what went on in between. I remember more than anyone else because I was the last to go under the spell. I don’t know what happened, if we made love or if the Yetis stopped us or if we passed out… anything could have happened.”

“Do you think the Yetis… mated with the four of you?” Sally asked, unable to help herself. Vince’s madness was intoxicating.

“Based on how they went after Kodiak Jack, I think we’d know if that happened to us,” Vince explained, his loopy grin returning, “He seemed to enjoy it but he was getting well roughed up by those hairy ladies.”

“Did you ever talk to Howard about what happened? Or might have happened?”

Vince shook his head and looked at his feet, hiding behind his hair like a child, “No. I didn’t know how he’d feel about it. Especially since he don’t remember any of it or why he did it…”

“I think we both know why,” Sally chided, “Is that the only thing that’s gone down between the two of you? Sorry, poor choice of words.”

Vince didn’t seem to notice the accidental pun, “There’ve been lots of times when something almost happened or sort of happened but I always started it and he always ended it.”

Sally put an arm around his sequined shoulder and Vince leaned into her and whispered, “I don’t know what I’d do without him.”

And that was the end of Vince’s thirty minute answer to the question, “Have you and Howard ever fucked?”

xxx

Sally had cast all reason aside and decided Vince was clearly too sweet to be dangerous, even if he did claim to talk to animals. She now held her gun in case one of the gators didn’t care for Vince’s questions. He’d chatted with a few otters but said they were ‘totally mental – furry little retards’ and the birds were also of little help. Vince claimed the alligators had thick bayou accents and were hard to understand. Sally suggested, facetiously, that he needed a translator. Vince gave her a big kiss on the cheek. Sally blushed as she scrubbed the lip gloss off her face. Surely, Howard had been in love. If it weren’t for the skin-tight pants making it clear Vince was in fact a man, she might have fallen in love herself.

xxx

Howard had no sense of time. Sometimes he was awake and sometimes he was dreaming, and it was difficult to tell the two states apart. One minute, he was teaching a fifteen-year-old Vince the ins and outs of seed distribution, the next he was having Bailey’s forced down his throat.

Surely, life was not so unkind as to make the force-fed Bailey’s from a merman be the reality. Howard spat out the taste of beige and rolled onto his back. Old Gregg was looking down on him with concern. Old Gregg was always there when he opened his eyes, ever the attentive nursemaid. Howard appreciated the cool cloths on his forehead and neck and the constant changing of his linens as he went from freezing cold to sweating profusely at random intervals. He even appreciated the cool but brackish water that started him vomiting all over again.

He was less appreciative of waking up to find himself being, for lack of a better word, snuggled by the merman. He did not especially appreciate the nude watercolors of Howard that seemed to multiply every time he opened his eyes. He did not appreciate the constant feeling that he’d been tampered with while unconscious and he did not appreciate the fucking Bailey’s being poured down his throat.

“I need water,” his voice was barely a whisper.

“The water made Howard sick,” Old Gregg explained, offering more Bailey’s.

“Fresh water. I’m dehydrated,” Howard explained, weakly trying to push his sweaty hair from his forehead.

He didn’t hear Gregg’s response.

He sat on the sofa in the living room, waiting to ring in the New Year alone, in front of the telly. He had a moderately priced bottle and two champagne flutes, just in case Vince decided to come home early. It was a long shot but sometimes holidays made Vince cling to Howard – his surrogate family.

Vince did come home before midnight, saying some nonsense about wanting to spend more time with Howard, as though they didn’t spend nearly every waking moment together as they had done for the past fifteen years. They clinked glasses at midnight and just as Howard prepared to ask Vince if he had any resolutions such as, “Have bigger hair, do less work in the shop, be more annoying to Howard,” the joke died on his lips – smothered by Vince’s mouth. Howard dropped his half -full champagne glass but otherwise remained motionless as Vince kissed him. The kiss was gentle, romantic and utterly unexpected. When Vince stood up and moved to the stairs, Howard felt a coolness on his forehead.

This is a dream.

In reality, Vince had gone upstairs and they hadn’t discussed the kiss again. Howard called for Vince to wait.

Vince looked surprised, “That’s not what happened. You just let me walk up the stairs. You didn’t even look back.”

“Yeah, well this is a dream, innit? Why did you kiss me just then?”

“It was over two months ago,” Vince reminded him, “It’s nearly Mardi Gras. You’re going to miss it if I can’t find you.”

“I’m with Old Gregg… somewhere.”

“I know that, you berk! But where? A swamp? The middle of the Mississippi?”

“I think it’s in the Mississippi, I mentioned it once and Old Gregg didn’t argue…”

“Do you know how big the bloody Mississippi River is!” Vince exclaimed, “It could take me years to find you!”

“I don’t think I have years,” Howard said, trying to keep his dream voice calm.

Vince flew down the stairs and threw his arms around Howard, “I need time Howard. Hang on. For me.”

Howard could feel Old Gregg’s tutu on the back of his thighs. He’d be awake soon.

“I’ll try, Vince.”

“I love you, Howard. I thought it would work if I took things slow. I’m sorry.”

“Hurry, Vince!”

Vince’s name echoed through the cave and Old Gregg did not look pleased. Howard closed his eyes.

[nextpage title=”Chapter 7″]

Chapter 7

Howard wakes with a start, flinging away the hand that is stroking him through his bedclothes.

“Chill out, Howard, it’s just me,” Vince whispers, snuggled up behind Howard on the bed, his hand settling on Howard’s hip and slowly moving back towards his erection, “Just relax.”

Howard is in his childhood room, his self-created sanctuary from the madness of his family, where he lived until he left university to work at the Zooniverse. He tries to still Vince’s hand but his long-time friend is persistent.

“What’s going on, Vince? Why are we here?”

“Shhh, Howard, don’t talk or he’ll hear,” Vince whispers before placing a kiss on Howard’s shoulder.

As Vince’s hand slides beneath the waist of Howard’s pajama pants, he wonders how Vince’s hands got so rough when he did no work and moisturized three times a day.

“Don’t ask questions, Howard, just relax,” Vince continues in a low and husky voice, “I’ve got you.”

When he tries to speak again, Vince covers Howard’s mouth with his own, his black hair draping around Howard’s face. It isn’t until Howard tries to roll onto his back to be better able to kiss Vince back that he feels pain in his neck.

“What’s going on…”

Vince stifles him with a deep kiss before answering, “Howard, you can’t say my name. I’ll leave if you try to say my name again.”

Vince’s hand is moving faster on Howard’s cock and Howard doesn’t have the energy or concentration to argue. “Why are we here?”

Vince shrugs and giggles, “I dunno. ‘Cause I tried to give you a handy here once before and you wouldn’t let me? Does it matter?”

Howard strokes Vince’s golden hair, “Don’t bring that up at a time like… wasn’t your hair black a minute ago?”

Vince shakes his hair and it turns black again, “Genius, right? Now just relax.”

Howard winces as Vince’s grip tightens. “Too rough… please.”

Vince loosens his grip slightly and Howard feels his orgasm building, “I’m almost there, V-”

“No!” Vince barks, “Do not say my name!”

Howard remains quiet as his body begins to tense in preparation for the release that is seconds away.

Rough hands grip him around the throat, slamming his head against a wall of the cave. “The pretty lady man is gone.”

“Stay with me, Howard. It’s better if you stay with me,” Vince whispers as he continues to stroke Howard’s cock with his surprisingly rough and scaly hand.

Scaly hands with sharp nails cutting of his airflow until the world goes black.

“Look into my eyes, Howard,” Vince instructs as he speeds his pace, “Just look at me, loving you, like always.”

Howard looked into Vince’s clear blue eyes and came. Then his mind cleared.

xxx

Howard’s eyes popped open and he saw Old Gregg staring at his green, scaly and now semen covered hand. The merman hesitantly licked at his fingers, wrinkled his nose and astutely observed, “Salty.”

“Greggory…” Howard tried to think of something to say that wouldn’t result in another near strangling, “We talked about this.”

“Talked about what, Howard?” Old Gregg asked, still investigating his hand.

“About not… touching me when I’m asleep. It’s not… what people are meant to do,” Howard felt irritation mixing with his fear. “When two people…”

“Make love times?” Gregg offered, helpfully.

“Sure, love times. They’re both meant to be willing, Greggory. And awake.”

Gregg looked baffled, “But Howard is always asleep.”

“I’m sick. I need clean water and human food,” Howard snapped, not bothering to hide his annoyance, “You’re killing me and you’re going to have to find another man to forcibly marry.”

Howard gagged down a little more Bailey’s from the bottle at his side and slipped back into the not-quite-sleep-state between his real life and some god-awful cave in the middle of nowhere.

xxx

“Well, the first time I made a move on Howard, I was a bit too young and it creeped him out,” Vince explained as he pulled a lo mein noodle from his plate, “This is how a turtle eats.”

Vince did a surprisingly accurate imitation of a turtle eating vegetable lo mein. They were sitting in Vince’s hotel room, waiting for a call back from Bryan Ferry.

“How old were you?” Sally asked as she dug into her sweet and sour shrimp.

“Firteen.”

“Fourteen?”

“Firteen!”

“Thirteen?”

“Yeah, firteen.”

Sally nearly choked on her shrimp, “Thirteen? Yeah, that’s a bit young.”

“It was a bit of a misunderstanding, really. When my dad had his first heart attack, I was in class and Mum rang Howard to see if he could pick me up and take care of me ‘till she was sure everything was okay and all, but he was at university and his mum answered.”

“The one who dosed Howard with acid?” Sally asked, amazed by how Vince’s crazy stories had begun to feel real. She had always considered herself to be smart and yet, here she was (without her gun).

“Yeah, this was before that happened or Mum probably wouldn’t have dropped me off with Howard’s parents. She figured they were like him, all responsible and serious,” Vince explained between noodles, “His folks were pretty amazing! His dad was pretty out of it but his mum was feeding me biscuits in individual packets and tellin’ me stories from the sixties but she was editing them to be more appropriate, takin’ out the sex and drugs, so she told me she ‘dated’ three of the original Stones and ‘had tea’ with Keith Moon.”

Sally laughed, “She sounds awesome!”

“She was well cool! Then Howard came home and whooooaaa, he goes mental! ‘What’s he doin’ here? What are you feeding him? Vince, spit that out right now!’ Me and his mum was cowerin’ in fear and he’s yellin’ at us and his mum’s sayin’ how she didn’t give me nothing that weren’t individually wrapped and checked that the seal on my soda wasn’t tampered with. It was mental! Eventually, I just had to tell him to stop yellin’ cause my dad was sick and he had to be nice to me.”

Sally felt guilty she’d forgotten that part. Vince had a way of glossing over the darker parts of his stories.

“So I tell him what happened and he apologized to his mum. It was really sad the way he did it. I don’t know why…” Vince turned serious for a moment.

“Maybe because he had good reason not to trust her, maybe it was too late for him to ever really trust her no matter how hard she tried,” Sally offered, thinking of her own mother.

Vince chewed his lip, “Yeah, so Howard takes me up to his room and he orders out for food and only lets me drink from sealed containers and won’t let me out of his sight. He makes me do all my homework plus some extra studying before I can watch telly or listen to music. He’s bein’ all harsh and strict but he also keeps touching’ my hair and shoulder. He didn’t usually touch me but I guess he was bein’ comfortin’ an’ it started gettin’ a little weird for me.”

“Did you feel like he was making advances?” Sally asked, suddenly worried about the direction this story was taking and that it might make her less eager to save Howard from the clutches of a merman.

“No! Nuttin’ like that. I was thirteen but I looked well young. People were always giving me coloring books in restaurants, it was embarrassin’! But I do like to color so it wasn’t that bad… What was I talkin’ ‘bout?”

“Howard was touching you.”

“Oh, yeah. I was firteen but I looked little and my voice hadn’t changed yet, but I was goin’ through puberty an’ all an’ I had a pretty big crush on Howard; so bein’ in his bedroom and him touching me… it was puttin’ thoughts in my head and when you’re firteen, a thought in your head quickly becomes an unsightly bulge in your trousers, but he wouldn’t let me go to the bathroom unless he was standing outside and he kept hurrying me up.”

“Why? Did his parents hide drugs in there?”

“Maybe, but mainly he was worried about all the porn. There was porn everywhere! I was findin’ it without even tryin’! I tried to smuggle a few out in me jumper but Howard nailed me straight away and confiscated them. Told me they would warp my mind,” Vince explained with a laugh.

“Why was he so uptight? He must have been used to it,” Sally asked.

“He’d been findin’ porn since he was a little kid but I guess some of it was pretty dark and it… bothered him. He’d never talk about it in specifics, just that it wasn’t something you’d want to accidentally see.”

“So that’s why he’s still a little uptight?”

“A little? He’s in his thirties and still a virgin… as far as he knows,” Vince studied his take-away and flushed. “I mean, he don’t know about the yeti, if anything even happened, and who knows what’s happenin’ to him now because I can’t find him…”

Sally jumped up from the bed she was sitting on and wrapped an arm around Vince, “You’re doing everything you can, Vince.”

Vince blinked rapidly and continued in a whisper, “He made me sleep against the wall so I couldn’t get up in the middle of the night without him knowing, and I couldn’t sleep because I was worried about my dad and was feeling pretty confused and keyed up with all the touching and the vintage porn and not being able to have a wank and Howard was right there… So I was curled up, facing the wall and trying to think about boring things to go to sleep and then Howard wraps his arm around me and he’s pressed right up against me from behind… I remember thinking, ‘This is it, I’m going to lose my virginity. This is how sex starts.’ I ain’t even open-mouth kissed someone at that point and I’m thinkin’ I’m about to get a bummin’ an’ I’m a little scared, but Howard kind of moans and rubs against me an’ there’s no way I’m backin’ out. I’m the shortest boy in my class and I think I’m going to be a virgin forever…”

“At thirteen?” Sally teased, stroking Vince’s hair.

“You got no sense of perspective at firteen. So I figure I’ll just lie there and he’ll take care of things cause I have no clue what actually happens between two guys. Then he rolls over and when I look to see what he’s doing, he’s just lyin’ there with his back to me. I thought maybe he was mad cause I didn’t do anything, I just laid there and maybe he thought I wasn’t interested,” Vince looked incredibly vulnerable as he spoke, Sally can’t keep from stroking his hair and trying to comfort him. “So I kind of reached around and, you know, felt around and he’s just ignoring me and I’m getting a little panicky because I don’t know what he wants. Then he grabs me by the wrist and throws me off him. He’s sitting up and yelling, ‘Don’t touch me!’ and looking all crazy like Tom Cruise in that movie where he’s got a wheelchair. He’s lookin’ all around for who was sneakin’ in his room and grabbin’ his John Thomas while he’s sleepin’ and it finally occurs to him that the dangerous pervert is me.”

The phone rang and Vince eagerly answered, leaving Sally hanging.

“Bryan! It’s Vince. I need your help.”

[nextpage title=”Chapter 8″]

Chapter 8

“Yeah, I know who he is… I’ve seen him on telly… Room 213?… Five o’clock sharp. Thanks Bryan, you’re a life saver.”

Vince was beaming as he hung up.

“Bryan found a translator for you?” Sally asked, more than a little incredulous. Apparently Bryan Ferry was just one of many singers who spoke to animals. The craziest part was, she had every intention of going to meet this singing Dr. Doolittle. She couldn’t imagine letting Vince wander the city alone in his lovesick haze of innocence and possible mental illness.

“Thank you, Sally, for staying with me,” Vince said sweetly, “I’m not used to bein’ alone. It’s been me’n’Howard for so long.”

“So you were fondling your tutor in his sleep…” Sally started, her tone teasing.

“Yeah. He was more than a tutor by then. My mum would have him over for Sunday dinner. He’d wear a tie and everything. If I wanted to go to a big concert, Mum would buy Howard a ticket so he could watch over me. He was way stricter than my parents! He was so uptight and bossy but I loved him…” Vince blushed and looked away, “I always wanted to make him smile. There’s still nothing better than making him laugh because his whole face changes and he always looks surprised that he’s laughing…”

Sally grabbed his hand as Vince’s voice trailed off, “We’ll find him, Sweetie. We will.”

Vince’s smile didn’t quite meet his eyes, “Course we will. I always save Howard and he saves me. Even then.. He asked me if I was okay and I told him I was sorry, I just got confused. I remember he told me it weren’t me, it were the house and I shouldn’t be bothered. Then he put Ziggy Stardust on to help me sleep. He was real sweet about it. I fell asleep right away after that. I felt safe, you know? I was happy to be in my little corner of Howard’s room.”

Sally sighed. She was going to get diabetes from Vince’s sweetness, “Did you ever talk about it?”

Vince looked thoughtful, “A little bit, later on. The next day, he drove me to hospital to be with my mum and dad. Dad was doing good but it was scary to see him like that, all sick. When Mum took me home that night, I told her everything.”

“No you didn’t! I’m sorry, continue.”

“It just started coming out of me, it wasn’t till she started asking questions that I realized it might not make Howard look good. Then I started crying because if they fired Howard as my tutor, I’d never see him again. He wouldn’t want to hang out with a little kid.”

“How did your mom react?” Sally asked, fully engrossed though she had a pretty good idea how the story ended (with Howard being abducted by a merman).

“She was great. She just pulled over and hugged me and said it were all right to have those feelings about Howard but I was too young to be acting on them. She said Howard could get into trouble because I was underage and that really worried me cause Howard never did anything against the rules. He had to miss a class to take me to the hospital and he never missed a class before. I told him I’d sit outside on a bench and not cause trouble so he could go to his class and…,” Vince blushed again, “And he hugged me and said that me’n’my family was more important than a class.”

Sally sighed for the lovestruck 13-year-old who was now a lovestruck adult.

“My dad took a turn for the worse that night and Mum called Howard’s house again and got his mum who said all kinds of nice things about me and that I was welcome any time but, of course, Howard got on the line and ended that right quick. No more visits to his house! Mum shooed me out the room so she could talk to Howard in private, so I hid in a cupboard and eavesdropped. She starts tellin’ Howard how I told her what happened last night and I guess he was well upset cause me mum must have spent twenty minutes trying to calm him down.” Vince leaned in and whispered the next part, “I think he was crying! She weren’t saying much just, ‘I know you didn’t,’ and, ‘I never thought that,’ and stuff like that, so you can imagine what kind of horrible things… I felt bad about upsettin’ him so much, but Mum was great. She asked him to come over and stay in the guest room so she could go to hospital with Dad. Then she yelled at me to get out the cupboard and quit eavesdropping ‘cause it was well rude.”

Sally laughed, “So things were okay with Howard?”

“Yeah, he came over and made me pancakes for dinner and let me put candy in them. Normally he made me eat vegetables and disgusting things like that. He still made me study and go to bed on time but you could tell he was tryin’ to be extra nice… but he hardly looked me in the eye the whole time. He came over a lot while Dad was sick. By the time he came home, Howard had cleaned the whole house. Mom and Dad joked that he should move in, and I thought that would be amazin’ but… It were maybe two weeks later he dropped out of uni and went to work at the Zooniverse.”

Having never met the man, Sally was shocked that straight-laced Howard would drop out of school. She felt like she knew him, “What happened?”

“Not sure, but… I think having me there and what happened… he needed to get out of that house. He was well happy at the zoo and talked about his boss, Tommy, all the time. He was Howard’s hero. He sounded like a nutter but Howard talked about Tommy the way I talked about Howard – all lovey and hero-worshippin’. I hated Tommy straight away, but I couldn’t say nothin’ bad ‘bout him or Howard would have a fit. Well, we better get going, we can’t keep Weezy waitin’,” Vince announced, jumping off the bed.

“Who is Weezy?” Sally asked, as she puffed her hair where it had flattened from lying down for ‘Vince Noir’s Story Hour’.

“Don’t you watch telly? He’s got viddies’n’all,” Vince explained as he primped his modified Mardi Gras mullet.

Sally rolled her eyes and decided they were definitely making a stop to pick up her gun. The merman business was stretching the imagination, but this was ridiculous.

And if it was true… Vince was going to need a native of New Orleans to translate.

Parsley watched Vince free himself of the dark clothing of his new gothic style and adorn himself in a flowing white robe. For a moment, he was able to take in the stunning view of Vince’s nude body before the robe covered him and a yeti tied his newly dark hair into bunches, adding a feather to complete the earthy look.

He was beautiful. Parsley couldn’t imagine not holding the younger man, kissing him and smelling his hair. Vince smiled and sighed as Parsley kissed his eyes and nose. Under all the pretense, Vince was still the pure and beautiful boy he’d been when they met. Out here, far from the dangers of the city and Howard’s parents, they could truly be together. Parsley gathered Vince in his arms and swung him in a circle as the smaller man explained he wanted to be called Bunches from now on, and something about a folk duo.

It didn’t matter where the bed came from, perhaps it appeared out of thin air because it was meant to exist. Things like that happened when you truly surrendered to nature.

Bunches smiled and laughed as Howard tossed him on the bed. He was, as always, the very picture of innocence. Eden personified and wearing too much eye make-up.

Howard was confused by the small pot of salve handed to him by a yet, but Bunches pulled Parsley down on top of him, positioning their bodies until Parsley understood. Gone was the shame, fear and anxiety the old Howard experienced at the thought of physical intimacy. Bunches clung to his neck, giggling between kisses as he was stretched and prepared – impervious to fear as ever, and full of trust and love.

Parsley had fuzzy memories of years of trying and failing to express his love as it grew from a brotherly affection to something much more complicated. How absurd it seemed now that this Howard person thought he could sully the beauty beneath him. Bunches was a diamond: beautiful and nearly indestructible. The world could fall apart, as it often did, and Bunches would remain.

Even the watchful eyes of the yetis could not make Parsley feel ashamed as he made love to Bunches; hopelessly romantic words tumbling, unfiltered, from his mouth and Bunches simply whispered (again and again), “I love you so much”.

The world disappeared inside Howard’s stomach, along with a sharp toed boot.

“Wake up, ya slag. Drink some water ‘fore you go and die on my boy. I ain’t findin’ ‘im another freak to marry. I got me own life,” snapped the Hitcher.

Howard tried to cling to the long buried memories but they were fading and retreating back to the deepest recesses of his brain – to the synapses that still retained multiplication tables up to 15 and the rules for meeting the Queen. Happy memories were less than useless in this cave.

Howard greedily drank the water offered by the Hitcher who laughed, “Drink up, boy. You’re gonna need your strength. My boy is quite vigorous!”

Howard saw Old Gregg peering nervously over the Hitcher’s shoulder, “Old Gregg doesn’t want Howard to die.”

The Hitcher gave Howard another kick in the stomach, causing him to roll over in pain and gag on the water he’d been gulping down. The Hitcher used a series of well-placed kicks that left Howard on his stomach with his legs spread.

“There ya go, my boy. Let’s get this marriage consummated so I can go ‘bout my business.”

“Can I have more water first?” Howard asked, eyeing the pack of water bottles behind the blue-eyed monsters, “I’m still quite…”

A kick in the kidneys shut Howard up for the moment.

“I see this one still don’t know ‘is place,” the Hitcher sneered, “You’ve been too soft on ‘im.”

“Howard is sick. Old Gregg needs to make him better before we get married. Howard says that when we make love times, Old Gregg and Howard have to both be willing and awake.”

The Hitcher grabbed Howard by the hair and pulled him to his knees, laughing, “Is that what you’ve been tellin’ my boy? Fillin’ ‘is ‘ead with ‘ippie nonsense like consent? Old Gregg, it’s time your old man taught you the truth about the birds and bees.”

Howard tried to remember his dream about being happy but it was gone without a trace

[nextpage title=”Chapter 9″]

Chapter 9

Howard closed his eyes.

He could hear the Hitcher undo his zipper.

He thought of Vince, his Vince.

“All right, Howard?” Vince’s voice was as cheeky as ever as he wrapped his thin arm around Howard’s neck.

“You’re choking me,” Howard whispered.

The Hitcher’s laugh cut through Howard’s haze.

Vince’s arm around his neck, holding him up. Spitting on his hand. Preparing him. Vince’s fingers painfully digging inside of him.

“That’s right, Howard,” Vince’s voice sounded a little harsher than usual, “I’m gonna give ya a nice bummin’.”

Howard tried to relax his muscles, he just had to get through this.

“Am I hurtin’ ya, Howard?” Vince asked, trying to push his cock into Howard, oblivious to Howard’s lack of readiness.

“It hurts, please stop,” Howard whispered. He could hear harsh laughter in the distance.

“Why?” Vince asked sweetly, “This is what you’ve wanted to do to me since I was a kid.”

“That’s not true.”

“You had me in your bed when you were twice my size! You made me think I had to do something for you in exchange for being nice to me.”

“That’s not what happened,” he tried shaking his head but he could hardly move, “That’s all wrong.”

“What’s wrong, Howard? You don’t want me here?” Vince asked, “You’d rather get bummed by the Hitcher than me?”

Howard let out a whimper of pain.

“How ‘bout Tommy? Your old hero Tommy could be here, fucking you. That’s all he wanted, an occasional bummin’ in exchange for teaching you everything you know. But no, he had to hump your leg like a dog and be grateful for it. Why couldn’t you just pretend? Why do you always have to be so selfish?”

“You don’t know about Tommy. I never told you any of that. I never told anyone.”

Howard opened his eyes. There was no comfort to be found in the recesses of his brain, he was better off in the cave.

Twice he had been taken away from his parents’ home and placed with Nan Moon. He knew how to make allies with a crazy person.

“Old Gregg!” It was closer to a whisper than a shout but Gregg responded.

“Yes, Howard?”

“Don’t let him do this.”

The Hitcher tightened his grip around Howard’s throat. Howard went limp and when the Hitcher loosened his grip for a moment, he whimpered, “It should be you, Gregg. Not him, just. ..” Stars filled his eyes as his head slammed against the cave wall.

“What does Howard mean?”

“‘E’s tryin’ to turn ya against yer old man, Old Gregg,” The Hitcher growled as he made another attempt to enter Howard, “Oi. He’s tighter than yer ole mum’s airhole.”

“I should only be with you, Greggory, I’m yours. Right?”

“That’s right,” Old Gregg said, realization dawning on his face, “Howard belongs to Old Gregg. Let go of my fuzzy man love.”

Howard felt a hint of hope, “Save me, Greggory.”

“Oh, you crazy bastard! I’m bleeding like a stuck pig.”

“Old Gregg will stitch Father up but Father can’t touch Howard. Howard is for Old Gregg.”

xxxx

Howard’s head was in Old Gregg’s tutu covered lap, and he was being fed biscuits. He was going to survive a little while longer.

He looked at the Hitcher, lying on a mattress and clutching his stomach wound.

Vince needed to find him soon.

If he’s even looking for you.

“Course, I’m lookin’ for ya, Howard,” Vince murmured into his ear as he stroked Howard’s chest.

Howard tensed and whispered, “Vince?”

“Yeah, it’s Vince! You forgotten me already? We been friends since we was little.”

“Since you were little,” Howard corrected, “I was already a man.”

“I like it better when we’re the same age,” Vince purred as he pinched Howard’s nipple. Howard could feel the hardness against his cheek and winced.

Vince’s hand moved to Howard’s hair, “He’ll leave you alone for a little while. He loves you. He’ll kill you in a heartbeat but he loves you. Eat and get strong. You have to survive. I need time.”

“I never wanted to hurt you, Vince,” Howard whispered, afraid of missing his chance. Afraid he was running out of time, “and if I did… I’m so sorry. I tried my best to look out for you.”

“All that stuff is in your head, Howard. You never done anything to me but be my friend,” Vince whispered as his hand slid down over Howard’s hardening cock, “Now you need to tell him you’re too tired and you want to wait.”

“I’m too tired,” Howard’s voice was still raspy from the near strangling, “Please, give me more time. To convalesce.”

Vince’s hand returned to his hair.

xxx

Howard was in his Zooniverse jacket, still sporting the stupid mustache that his precious Tommy told him to grow in order to look older. He looked normal except his eyelashes were wet. Howard, standing outside his classroom alongside the headmistress, with wet eyelashes.

Vince turned on his heel and ran. He was slipping in his Chelsea boots and Howard caught him straight away, holding him and saying everything was going to be all right.

xxx

Sally’s gun was taken away by Weezy’s men as soon as they arrived. Then they were left in the lobby for an hour.

She waved her hand in front of Vince’s blank, blue eyes, “Yoo-hoo. Vince. Where’d you go?”

Vince jumped, “Sorry. I was… What did you ask?”

“I asked why you know Bryan Ferry.”

“He was a mate of my dad’s. We used to go see him all the time. He was supposed to be my guardian if anything happened to my parents…”

“Did something happen to your parents?” Sally asked, gently. Not daring to muss his now styled hair, she stroked his hand.

“Dad had another heart attack when I was fifteen. He was driving at the time. They both died.”

Vince let himself be pulled into Sally’s arms.

“It was Howard that told me. He let me stay at his flat ‘cause I couldn’t handle going home that night. That’s when I made my second move,” Vince suddenly giggled, “Oh, you must think I was a freak!”

Sally refused to be distracted by Vince’s charm, “You must have been so upset and scared…”

“I was crying in my room and he come in and sat on my bed, strokin’ my hair and bangin’ on about philosophy and all the crap he was learnin’ from Tommy before Tommy went missin’.”

Sally let it go, she would not be distracted. “Did you try to kiss him?”

Vince laughed again, “No, I went right for the meat and two veg, just like the last time. I didn’t have the nerve to look at him. Oh, I was a shambles! I just wanted to feel good. I know it sounds horrible…”

“It doesn’t, Sweetie,” Sally assured him. “I take it Howard didn’t take advantage of the situation?”

Vince’s laugh was a little drier this time, “None of that for Howard. He just took my hand and held it. I remember he went all red but he didn’t run away. I know he wanted to.”

“He cared about you, a lot.”

Vince tensed in her arms, “He did and I did everything I could to make him hate me.”

Sally could have screamed when Weezy chose that moment to let them into his room.

[nextpage title=”Chapter 10″]

Chapter 10

Vince soon realized Sally had been right about him needing a translator. Sally’s non-regional, TV-ready accent must have come with her doctorate in environmental science. When she spoke to Lil’ Wayne, her accent was as thick as his. He couldn’t understand either of them. It was clear Sally was a fan, her normally placid expression was gone and she was giggling like a school girl.

“I’m sorry, Vince,” she said, as though sensing his thoughts, “I was just telling him how I’ve loved him since the Hot Boy$. I used to sneak out to see them at the Bounce clubs…”

“Bounce?” Vince asked.

Sally laughed and demonstrated by doing a dance that made her ample bottom vibrate at an alarming rate.

Vince tried to imitate her causing Sally to burst into a fit of hysterical laughter but Vince thought he saw a little respect in Lil’ Wayne’s eyes.

“He says you’ve got a lot of ass for a white girl,” Sally explained before turning back to Weezy and explaining Vince was a man. Vince didn’t understand the words but the accompanying hand gesture was hard to misread.

Vince smiled at the confused- looking rapper and urged Sally to get to the point. He only understood a few words of what she said but he heard “funky merman” and saw the way Lil’ Wayne cringed at the words. He got the distinct impression Weezy wasn’t going to help them find Howard.

“He says he doesn’t want anything to do with that funky merman voodoo but he knows who can help us,” Sally explained after a brief conversation, “We need to talk to Old Gregg’s old boyfriend, Slash.”

xxx

“You don’t know me but my name is Dr. Sally Blanc and I need to track down a merman named Old Gregg. I know you’ve had troubles with him in the past and Bryan Ferry and Lil’ Wayne…” Vince could see Sally was losing her confidence, Vince gave her free hand a squeeze, “They said you could help. We need your help. Please, our friend has been missing for a few days now and… I don’t need to tell you how worried we are. Please. Please help us.”

Vince’s eyes welled up a little at Sally’s plea for someone she’d never met. He’d seen a sweetness in her even as she’d threatened him with pepper spray the first time he approached her. Vince didn’t have a head for math or science or poetry but he could spot a well-hidden, kind heart from a mile away.

Sally closed her phone and shrugged, “I guess we just have to wait.”

Vince gave her a quick hug before they started walking back to his hotel.

Sally roughly wiped a tear from her eye, “So tell me more. You said you tried to make Howard hate you.”

Vince felt his cheeks darkening at the mention of “the five months”. That’s what they called it on the rare occasions Vince and Howard talked about that time. “The five months” between the death of Vince’s parents and his sixteenth birthday.

“I was fifteen and a half, so I only needed a guardian ‘til I turned sixteen…”

“You were on your own at sixteen?” Sally asked with surprise, “I was still doing laundry at my mom’s house when I got my Ph.D.”

“I wasn’t ever really on my own, but at sixteen I didn’t need a guardian,” Vince explained, feeling a bit queasy, “So Bryan and Howard worked it out that Howard would just move into my house and keep an eye on me and make sure I passed my exams and Bryan would take care of the money and legal stuff.”

Sally nodded, clearly seeing how it was a good plan and young Vince should have been grateful to have people looking out for him.

“I went mental. I stopped going to school, started staying out all night. Drinking, sleeping around… I got a venereal disease and everything…” Vince laughed out of habit, “I wouldn’t even take the antibiotics when I was supposed to, I fought Howard on every little thing. I brought people to the house once but he walked in and said, ‘This is a fifteen-year-old child whose parents just died. Anyone with a scrap of humanity left should leave now. As for the rest of you, I’m calling the police,’ and that cleared the room.”

Vince tried to laugh it off but Sally was looking at him with her big, understanding eyes.

“He got me a part time job at the zoo and even though I loved it… I still wouldn’t show up half the time. He’d end up having to cover for me. He’d come out to the clubs and find me, literally dragging me home. He was only twenty at the time but everyone thought he was me dad cause he was…” Vince blinked back tears. Howard had been an adult since he was in short pants; he never really had a childhood.

“It’s all right, Vince. Lots of kids act out. I was such a punk-ass at that age, I don’t know why my parents didn’t just feed me to the alligators.” Sally’s voice was so full of kindness, Vince wanted to wear it like a cape.

“I came home all pissed one day and…” Vince cringed at the memory.

“You made another move on him?” Sally offered.

“C’mon, Howard. I know you wanna fuck me. Everyone wants to fuck me.”

“By then, he was just disgusted with me. It was horrible but I couldn’t stop. I’d think that the next day I’d wake up and go back to being normal but…”

“You were testing Howard, seeing if he really cared.”

Vince grabbed his head, trying to push the memories back, “He kept trying to talk to me about what I was going to do with my life and I kept thinkin’ how I was gonna be so alone when he was gone… The morning I turned sixteen, he baked me a cake and…”

Vince started crying. He could see the little cake with its blue and white frosting. A cake that Howard made, even though he hated cakes.

“I went out and spent all the money Bryan sent me for my birthday on drugs – I just wanted to come home with my pockets stuffed full of drugs so that when he searched me…”

Sally’s face was filled with dread and she whispered, “Oh, no.”

“I just wanted him to hate me and sure enough, as soon as I come home, he’s rootin’ through my pockets and… he went all pale and I was laughin’ and sayin’ we should use it to bake up another cake since I threw the one he made in the garbage an’ it would be like old times for him…”

Sally was physically holding her mouth shut at that point.

“And he opened a bag of X and dumped it in his mouth.”

Sally gasped, “I’m so sorry, Vince, please continue.”

“I was well scared. I tried pulling them out of his mouth and he started choking… I got most of them back but he was pretty messed up. I did my best to take care of him, makin’ him drink water and playing the kind of music he liked. At one point, we was on the sofa an’ he was lookin’ at me and tellin’ me how beautiful I was and how much he loved me and I knew I could… I knew he wouldn’t say no if I tried it on.”

Sally waited patiently for him to continue, simply holding his hand as they walked.

“I really fancied him, I always did. I thought about him when I was getting off with other people.”

“You’ve been in love with him for so long.”

Vince turned, buried his face in Sally’s shoulder and wept in the middle of Bourbon Street where no one paid them any mind.

xxx

“Howard never gave up on you and we’re never going to give up on him,” Sally murmured into Vince’s ear.

Sally knew that if they didn’t find Howard, she was going to have to pack up and move to England. She’d go work in a boutique and forget everything she knew about chemistry because there was no way she could ever leave Vince alone.

xxx

Howard opened his eyes and was greeted by a watercolor of himself getting raped by the Hitcher. He debated between laughing and crying and decided he was too tired for either.

“G’mornin’, sleepin’ beauty,” drawled the Hitcher, “Are ya feelin’ convalesced yet?”

Howard pulled his blanket up to his chin and looked for clothing. There was little point in being modest when he was surrounded by nude paintings of himself but he still didn’t care for the feeling of being naked. The Hitcher was nursing a sizeable gut wound, but he didn’t seem like the type who learned lessons from such experiences.

“Where’s Old Gregg?” Howard asked, hating the timidity in his voice.

The Hitcher grinned, “Don’t you worry, your husband ain’t gone far. I’ll bet you’re lookin’ forward to the weddin’ night. I know I am.”

Howard closed his eyes and thought of Vince. Vince giggling as Bollo groomed his ridiculous hair, Vince gasping for breath after his first porpoise race, Vince spending hours personalizing his zoo uniform…

“You ever had kids, Moon?” the Hitcher asked, in an almost conversational tone.

Howard thought of “the five months”, his big opportunity to prove he was nothing like his own parents. His chance to step up and do something important and a small chance to repay the kindness of the Noir family. The five months in which he turned the sweetest kid he’d ever met into an unrecognizable monster.

“No. I don’t think I’m suited for parenthood,” Howard admitted. It felt good to say it out loud, even to a homicidal maniac.

“Children are right fuckin’ bastards. You better pray Old Greggory can’t get knocked up or you are in for a right treat.”

Howard reached for a bottle of water and a packet of crisps. He was getting stronger. He had no idea how long he’d been in the cave. It could be days or months. He was getting more and more confused about what was a dream and what was reality. It seemed that reality involved him marrying a merman and having children.

That couldn’t be right.

xxx

Howard tried to fall asleep with Old Gregg spooning him but for the first time since eating the rancid fish, he was wide awake.

He closed his eyes and concentrated, trying to imagine Vince, but the image wouldn’t come. He thought of all the times Vince had reached out to him; inarticulately asking for love, comfort or friendship – and being turned away. Vince didn’t belong in the cave, Howard did. His misanthropic life was coming to its logical conclusion.

“What would you say to me, if I was there?” Vince asked, improbably perched at the foot of Howard’s mattress.

Howard couldn’t meet his eyes.

“I don’t know what to say, Vince. I don’t know if you’re real.”

“Don’t matter. I’m not sure ‘bout all this either. It’s well strange. I’d still like an answer. What would you say to me?”

“I’d say that I love you and I’m sorry for all the times I let you down,” Howard answered, “And that if I don’t make it…”

“Don’t say that,” Vince clutched the sides of his head.

“That you oughtn’t feel bad and I want you to be happy and enjoy your life.”

“I’m going to find you,” Vince promised. “I got a sexy sidekick an’ everything. I’m so close now.”

Old Gregg’s hand started moving down Howard’s chest and below his waist.

“Help me, Vince,” Howard whispered. Vince pressed a finger to his lips.

“I always will, Howard. We’re a team, right? You’n’me, forever.”

[nextpage title=”Chapter 11″]

Chapter 11

Vince was on his third drink when Leroy asked the inevitable question.

“Any resolutions, Vince?”

“Yeah! I’m gonna be happy.”

“Vince, you’re always happy!”

“Happier, then.”

“How?”

Vince thought about it and then he called a cab.

xxx

Howard was sitting on the sofa watching the telly with a glass of champagne.

“Vince! What are you doing back? It’s not even midnight yet. Are you ill?”

Vince sat next to Howard and didn’t ask Howard why he already had a second champagne flute next to him.

“I just decided I wanted to be with you for the new year. Just you and me,” Vince answered, honestly.

Howard leaned away and furrowed his brow, “I don’t get it. Where’s the joke?”

“I’m being serious, Howard. I want to spend more time with you this year.”

“We share a bedroom, Vince. We spend nearly every minute of the day together,” Howard pointed out, keeping his tiny eyes on the telly. The countdown would be starting soon.

Vince thought about it. Even sitting next to Howard now, he didn’t feel like he was ‘with’ Howard. He grabbed the Northerner’s big hand and held it. Howard shot him a befuddled look but he didn’t pull away.

They held hands as they counted in the New Year and clinked glasses. They held hands as Vince leaned over and kissed Howard on the lips, the way he’d done on the rooftop. Howard’s glass fell to the ground and champagne splashed on Vince’s jumpsuit.

He considered just pushing Howard back on the couch and going down on him. He wanted to show Howard what he felt and didn’t have words to express. It was the tickle of Howard’s mustache in his nose that sparked a moment of clarity for Vince. Every time Vince made a move on Howard, he moved too fast. It was always Howard’s first instinct to say no, to retreat in fear and assume everything that came at him was bad and dangerous. He needed time to adjust to something new.

On the roof, Howard had gone from love to apparent indifference in the space of a few moments. He’d been ready to lose his virginity to some stranger minutes after declaring his love for Vince. It was less than an hour between his declaration of love and his screams for help. Lucky for Howard, Tony Harrison had the anti-funk, Fleetwood Mac’s Tusk, on hand and they were able to chase Old Gregg out of the house. Even the pauses made Old Gregg cringe in agony. An hour and a shared bottle of champagne later, they were kissing on the bouncy castle. Howard was being wonderfully complacent in Vince’s arms until he tried to get inside the Northerner’s pants. It was too fast and Howard pulled away. He pulled away that night, and a week later he ran away to be an actor like he didn’t know Vince was in love with him.

Maybe he didn’t know. Maybe he didn’t understand, yet. Vince ended the kiss and went upstairs.

The next day at dinner, Vince gave Howard the crispiest chips from his fish and chips. Normally he stole Howard’s but now he was wooing Howard, one crispy chip at a time, until the big freak understood how much he meant to Vince. He gave Howard the fluffiest pancakes, used extra fabric softener on his clothes and made a tiny Topshop for Stationery Village so it would attract cool people and increase tourism. Howard laughed and sometimes he blushed at Vince’s courtship. When Howard won the tickets to Mardi Gras, Vince patiently listened as Howard gave him a boring lecture on the history of the city and the celebration. He listened so closely, he actually understood what Howard was saying. On Mardi Gras, Catholics like to live it up so they get it out of their systems for Lent. It sounded smart. That’s what Vince would do: he’d either get Howard, or get him out of his system.

So he made his plan, he’d make his move on Fat Tuesday; and if Howard said no, he’d spend the next forty days getting over him.

It was Sunday, Vince only had two days to go.

xxx

Howard ran his fingers through Vince’s raven black hair as they kissed, the bouncy castle tossing them about every time they shifted their weight. It was going to happen. Vince was kissing him and stroking him through his corduroys.

“This is where you ran away,” Vince reminded him.

“I’m sorry, Vince,” Howard whispered, “I can explain but not now…”

Vince opened Howard’s trousers and pulled down his pants, taking Howard in his rough hand.

“You don’t have to explain,” Vince said, gently, “You never have to explain yourself to me but you can tell me if you want.”

Howard felt tears welling, “Help me, Vince.”

“Don’t be such a baby,” Vince chided with a cheeky grin, “I’m gonna take care of you. I wouldn’t hurt you. I just need you to relax and let me get you ready.”

Howard tensed as a knuckle was pressed inside.

“Hurts,” Howard whispered.

“Say it out loud,” Vince whispered, pressing his knuckle in deeper.

“Hurts, please. Hurts.”

“There we go,” Vince cooed as he coated Howard entrance with a thick cream, “It won’t hurt now. Not if we take our time. Tell me if I go to fast.”

Howard wrapped his arms around Vince, feeling his boney back beneath his hands. He buried his face in black hair.

“It’s blond now,” Vince corrected. The hair turned gold but it felt and smelled the same.

“But it’s my birthday party,” Howard pointed out, looking around at the bouncy castle, “You just saved me from…”

Howard gritted his teeth as Vince pushed inside.

“I saved you from him then,” Vince murmured as he thrust himself a little deeper, his hair was back to black, “And I’ll save you now.”

If Vince was disappointed when Howard lost his erection, he didn’t show it. He continued to stroke Howard all over his body and whisper kind words as he moved in and out.

“I just want to make you feel good, Howard,” Vince whispered. His thrusts were changing from long and deep to quick and a little erratic. It was almost over. “I love you, Howard. Please don’t be hurt.”

When it was over, Vince held him tightly while Howard tried to stop shaking.

“S’all right, Howard. You did good, you’re okay. You’re going to be okay.”

“I’m sorry, Vince.”

“Don’t be sorry.”

“There’s something wrong with me.”

“It’s this place, Howard. It’s not you.”

Howard flinched at the familiar phrasing. Vince was using his words against him.

“I’m so sorry, Vince. I’m sorry about my birthday.”

“That was my fault,” Vince whispered, “I moved too fast. It was my fault.”

“No, Vince. It’s me. I… Tommy tried, but…”

“Not Tommy!” Vince wailed, “Not that berk.”

“He wanted a… physical relationship, and I tried…”

Vince kissed his shoulder, “Tommy were a freak, Howard. How was you supposed to get excited for that big head of his?”

Howard smiled in spite of himself, Vince had always resented Tommy, though they had never met. Howard thought of Tommy, pressed behind him with a hand over Howard’s flaccid cock, each encounter more painfully embarrassing than the last.

“I couldn’t. Ever. I could never…” Howard grasped for words to explain just how badly he’d failed his old mentor, “I don’t know if I can. I saw things when I was young and they made me go wrong. I can’t explain it.”

Vince snuggled into Howard’s side, “You don’t have to explain. It don’t matter if we can’t ever be together like that. I just need to be with you full stop. Don’t matter to me if we never do more than snog. I’m just glad to be allowed touchin’ you.”

Howard held Vince tightly until one dream world faded into another and he was back in Primary School, but a fully grown man and no one seemed to notice.

xxx

Vince woke with a start and woke Sally in the process.

Vince blinked back tears as Sally fretted over him, asking what was wrong.

“I had a dream,” he explained, lamely, “I was dreaming about Howard.”

Sally sighed and stroked Vince’s hair in a motherly way, “We’ll find him, Sweetie.”

“I dreamt…” Vince debated on whether or not to continue, but Sally looked so reassuring and non-judgmental. She was wasting her time as a chemist, she should have a chat show.

“I dreamt that I was with Howard… that I was…” Vince used a hand gesture to explain what he couldn’t quite say.

Sally smiled, “That’s normal, Vince. You shouldn’t be upset. We’ve been talking about your feelings for him…”

“I don’t think… I don’t think he wanted what I was doing,” Vince admitted, feeling queasy, “He wasn’t hard or nothin’ and he was… Why would I dream about doin’ that to him when he’s with Old Gregg and…”

Vince bit his knuckle and tried not to cry.

Sally held him tightly and the tears started to fall.

“It’s all right, Vince. It was just a dream. I know how much you love Howard. You had your chance to take advantage and you didn’t, right? You don’t have malicious bone in your body, Vince Noir.”

Vince hadn’t told Sally the half of it. He was fairly sure Howard didn’t remember the things he had said to Vince while under the influence of enough ecstasy to fuel a small rave. The confessions had come tumbling out of the young man’s mouth. He told Vince he was a virgin and afraid he always would be, that he’d never be capable of intimacy. He said Vince had been the only person who didn’t make him uncomfortable until he’d gone and hit puberty, and how much Howard missed sweet, little, non-threatening Vince.

He said Vince confused him and made him feel ashamed.

“I took care of him then. I worked his shift at the zoo the next day. I barely knew what I was doing but, the animals walked me through it…” Vince gave Sally a moment to be dubious and then remember that Vince really did talk to animals, “and I felt good. I felt good cause I helped Howard and was responsible. Things were different after that. We sold the house and shared a flat. Brian kept sending money but Howard would never take any of it. It all went to sending me back to school and then to college.”

Sally smiled, “So you had five months of teenage rebellion. That’s not so bad.”

Vince forced a smile but he would never forget the look on Howard’s face when he downed the bag of ecstasy. Instead of being angry at Vince like any normal person, Howard had turned it all in on himself. The only way he’d known to get through to Vince was to hurt himself as much as possible. Vince had spent the following decade trying to make things up to Howard, trying to be the sweet, little Vince that didn’t make Howard feel uncomfortable.

Vince snuggled into Sally the way he’d snuggled Howard in his dream and tried to think pleasant thoughts. Tomorrow morning, Slash’s flight would arrive and they would surely find Howard. Vince would be extra good. No jokes about jazz or small eyes. No midnight barbering. He would just be sweet and nice and Howard would be fine. Whatever Howard was going through, Vince would make it better. It didn’t matter how long it took because, Vince had nothing else on. All that mattered was Howard.

[nextpage title=”Chapter 12″]

Chapter 12

Slash looked exactly like Slash. He wore his stovepipe hat and skin-tight pants. His hair was full and moved like a living entity. Vince wanted to build a nest from Slash’s hair; a big, soft nest for him and Howard.

But first he had to find Howard.

Slash wasted no time bringing out a small yellow box.

“Are you looking for Old Gregg?” Slash asked as he fiddled with the yellow contraption.

“Yes,” Vince explained, “He has my best mate, Howard. He wanted to marry Howard before but Howard was able to get away.”

Between his hat, hair, sunglasses and stubble, there wasn’t much “face” on Slash to read, but Vince detected a flash of concern.

“How long has he been missing?” Slash asked without looking up from his device.

“Five days,” Sally answered while Vince was still thinking. It seemed like Howard had been gone for months.

Vince could see Slash flinch behind his dark glasses. He was about to reach for Sally’s hand but she was already twining her fingers into his. Apparently everyone knew five days with Old Gregg was Bad News. Vince felt queasy, but he was certain Howard was waiting to be rescued. He couldn’t possibly be de-

Vince refused to even think the word. Howard was waiting for him.

“I managed to get Gregg tagged at a Velvet Revolver gig. He managed to get backstage looking like Diva Zappa and we tagged him before… The closer you get, the more accurate the reading,” Slash explained, “I’m telling you now, I’m only willing to get so close to Old Gregg and I’m not handing this bad boy over. I’ll get you within a few miles and then you’re on your own.”

Vince joyfully threw his arms around Slash who shrank away, but not before Vince planted a kiss on his stubbled cheek.

“Thanks, Slash. This is genius!”

Slash grunted and tapped the screen of his tracking device. He tapped it again.

“This reading doesn’t make sense,” Slash mumbled to himself, “What the fuck is going on…”

Sally peered at the screen and her eyebrows raised as she mumbled to herself, “Holy shit.”

“What’s going on?” Vince asked as he looked at the black screen with a small, flashing yellow light.

“I’m not getting a reading on the location. It looks like a black hole,” Slash explained.

“That’s because that swamp doesn’t exist,” Sally explained. “It’s a legendary swamp and you won’t find it on any map and if you don’t know where to look, you’ll never find it at all. That’s where Howlin’ Jimmy Jefferson lived and died and became immortal.”

Slash nearly dropped his Old Gregg tracking device, “Howlin’ Jimmy Jefferson? The Spirit of Jazz?”

“Ugh,” Vince groaned, “Not that berk again! He is mental. I hope he ain’t around, ‘cause he and Howard have some unresolved issues…”

Vince stopped when he realized Sally and Slash were staring at him.

“How are we supposed to find this swamp if it don’t exist?” Vince asked, not wanting to discuss his run-ins with the Spirit of Jazz. He felt queasy at the memory of biting Howard’s record. He’d been acting up, as usual, trying to get Howard’s attention because he resented all the time Howard was suddenly spending with Lester Corncrake. Even as Vince felt guilty remembering Howard’s distraught face as his prized possession was destroyed, he also felt warmed by the memory of Howard coming to his rescue. Howard loved Vince more than jazz.

Vince loved Howard more than anything.

Sally said she knew how to find the non-existent swamp, but she would need some help from a very old friend.

xxx

Sally was a woman of science, a rational person, but there was no way in hell she was heading into a voodoo swamp without leaving a gift for Marie Laveau first.

She wasn’t crazy.

Sally took the charm bracelet from her arm and placed it in front of the crypt. Vince followed suit with his fuchsia scarf. Slash put down a flash drive with the latest Trombone Shorty cd.

“Marie Laveau, ma’am,” Sally began, awkwardly. She’d never done this with other people around before, “I know that you are the most powerful woman on the planet and if there is anyone who can help us, it’s you. Please help us find Vince’s friend, Howard Moon, before… before anything bad happens to him. Vince loves him a lot…”

“I can’t live without him,” Vince whispered.

Sally closed her eyes and tried to picture the Voodoo Priestess. She imagined her warm eyes, her elegant robes…

“That hat is genius!” Vince cried, “You look amazin’ for someone who’s been dead for a hundred years. What’s your secret? I bet you moisturize.”

Sally opened her eyes and saw Marie Laveau, in the apparent flesh. Then she fainted.

xxx

Howard was wearing his own clothes. They smelled like soap and swamp water but at least he was covered. He was fully dressed but surrounded by nude portraits of himself. The most recent watercolor was apparently what Howard looked like from Old Gregg’s perspective. It was obscene, humiliating and just plain ugly. Howard longed for one of Vince’s strange and beautiful, childlike paintings. He preferred himself with a balloon for a head over a painting of himself being prepared for anal sex with a monster any day of the week.

Not that he had any idea of the day of the week.

The Hitcher looked up from his examination of a medical book he’d found among Old Gregg’s strange and varied possessions. Howard wondered if he was reading up on anatomy or just getting off on the pictures.

“Well, ain’t that a site for me sore ole eyes?” the Hitcher observed as he examined Gregg’s newest ‘artwork’, “I guess you been properly consummated, ain’t that right, ‘oward?”

Howard wished he had more clothes to put on.

“Howard and Old Gregg have only begun to make love times,” Old Gregg explained as he shyly touched Howard’s shoulder. When Howard flinched, Old Gregg let his hand drop. “Tonight, my fuzzy little man peach will take Old Gregg in his strong arms and make me his own.”

Howard suppressed a groan. He’d been wondering when Old Gregg’s mangina would enter into the picture. He was as baffled as ever by what was going on under the merman’s tutu. He’d refused to look in that direction and none of Gregg’s self-portraits was graphic enough to explain the nature of his “downstairs mix-up”. The glow was too bright and hypnotizing.

Tonight, he was probably going to have to look.

“I hope you’ll be thoughtful enough to let yer ole man watch this time,” the Hitcher purred, “I do ‘ate to miss a good show. Do you put on a good show, ‘oward?”

Howard forced himself to look Old Gregg in the eye.

“Don’t let him watch,” he whispered, hating himself for the desperation in his voice.

xxx

He could see Vince sprawled out on the mattress of their hotel, his black hair spread out on his pillow. He was naked and unbearably beautiful. The younger man spread his legs and ran his hand over his own pale chest.

“It’s time, Howard. You’re finally going to fuck me. You’ve waited long enough,” Vince said in a teasing voice. Howard stroked himself until he was fully hard. He was going to do this.

“Isn’t this nice?” Vince asked, “Me just being docile and helpless while you get your way? This is how you like me best.”

“You’re hardly docile,” Howard snapped, beginning to feel anxious. He used some salve to slip a finger inside of Vince who moaned lasciviously.

“Mmm. All these years, you’ve kept me at your side with guilt over what I did as a teenager. Is that why you’ve never tried to fuck me? Because you know that would make us even and then I could move on?” Vince’s face contorted in pleasure as Howard worked in a second finger.

It was going wrong, again.

“Please, Vince. Just help me get through this. I can’t do this on my own,” Howard whispered. Even the thought of Vince disappearing was making him lose his erection.

“Of course, Howard. Whatever you want. It’s all about you,” Vince sneered, “I’ll be your blow-up doll and I’ll rescue you and then I’ll stay by your side forever because you’ll be such a fucked up mess by the time I reach you…”

“Don’t do this, Vince. I can’t make Old Gregg angry,” Howard pleaded. He tried to picture sweet Vince smiling up at him…

“Sweet Vince. That’s the only Vince you like,” Vince snapped, rolling his eyes, “I can’t always be sweet. I’m a real person, not just your fantasy or your little ray of sunshine. I’m a real person and when I see what you’ve become… Are you sure you even want to be rescued?”

Howard opened his eyes. He was on his own.

His erection was gone but Old Gregg was moaning with every movement of Howard’s fingers. Maybe it would be enough.

He rubbed his thumb around until Old Gregg tensed and whimpered. Howard had seen some really graphic pornography growing up, his father often fell asleep with it still playing on the telly, but he could barely see Old Gregg’s mangina through the glow. He was flying blind. Howard rubbed a gentle circle around what he assumed was Gregg’s clitoris as the merman shamelessly rubbed himself into Howard’s hand. It was strange. Howard was disgusted but being in a state of terror for days (weeks?) had left him nearly immune to horror. He had done so many terrible things already. Somehow, seeing Gregg’s pleasure at his touch was almost endearing. Despite what dream-Vince seemed to think, Howard’s fantasies about Vince had always been about making the younger man happy. Before love or lust or even friendship, Howard had felt protective of the wide-eyed wood nymph of a boy who tried so hard to make people happy. He could still remember those big blue eyes shining with tears as Vince reluctantly explained that he couldn’t read because, “the words keep movin’ about and I guess I can’t read fast enough to catch them.”

Old Gregg had never stood a chance with the Hitcher as his father.

Maybe Howard had never stood a chance either.

“Oh, Howard,” Vince sighed in his ear before resting his head on Howard’s shoulder, “You’re fine the way you are. I love you the way you are.”

“The way I was…”

“Are. You might be a little more damaged but you’re still my Howard,” Vince said firmly. Howard looked at his shiny black hair…

“It’s blond now,” Vince corrected and his hair changed accordingly. “We’ll get through this together. You’re doing so well.”

Howard slipped a third finger inside of Old Gregg while Vince wrapped his hand around Howard’s free wrist. Vince guided Howard’s hand to his flaccid cock. Howard gave himself a few half-hearted strokes but then Vince’s hand wrapped around his.

“C’mon, Howard, I want to get you hard,” Vince whispered, “I’ve wanted you for so long.”

Howard focused on Vince’s throaty commands and felt himself coming alive below the waist.

“That’s right, Howard, get hard for me because I want you,” Vince cooed, “I want you inside of me, that’s the only way we’ll even be close enough. I just want to be close to you.”

“Thank you, Vince,” Howard whispered as he reached full mast, “I need you so much…”

“Shh, just enjoy it, Howard. Don’t think about anything but me and how much I want you.”

Howard was gentle as he entered Old Gregg, Vince whispering in his ear the whole time. Old Gregg’s sharp nails dug into his back and drew blood but Vince was there whispering, “You’re making him feel so good, he can’t help himself. You’re so beautiful, why wouldn’t he love you? I want to see your face when you come. I’ve always wanted to see you like this. I think about it all the time. You, hard and ready for me, being gentle because you’d be worried about me even as I ask you to fuck me harder…”

As soon as it was over, the shame set in but Vince remained, promising to love him and find him. Old Gregg was there, too, snuggled into his side. Howard was too tired to try and squirm away. He was just relieved the Hitcher had been naive enough to drink Bailey’s poured by Old Gregg and was unconscious for the foreseeable future.

[nextpage title=”Chapter 13″]

Chapter 13

Howard was looking at the wall of his childhood bedroom, trying to think about boring things so he could fall asleep. The room looked so much larger than he remembered.

The mattress shifted beneath him, there was someone in his bed. Howard’s panic quickly turned to confusion as the answer drifted into his head.

It was just Howard. Seven foot tall, movie star (Errol Flynn came to mind) handsome, and brilliant to boot; all at the tender age of eighteen. Howard would have to check his photo albums, but he was fairly certain he had never been a chiseled god.

He peeked over his shoulder and, sure enough, saw his eighteen-year-old self sleeping. His brain slowly worked through the confusing information. There was one too many Howards in this dream.

He looked at his skinny fingers and then ran his hand through longish, blondish hair. He was in Vince’s body. This was the infamous night. The night everything changed.

Bloody hell. Howard was getting tortured enough in real life without his dreams going haywire as well. He tried to blink himself awake but dream-Howard was shifting beside him and he was suddenly engulfed in warmth. Dream-Howard had wrapped himself around Vince’s small frame and there was an absurdly large erection pressed against Vince’s rear-end.

Howard didn’t remember this happening and he certainly would have remembered something like this. Even as he felt annoyed, he could feel Vince’s anxiety. He was also assaulted with a barrage of disturbing mental images of what a thirteen-year-old boy expected from gay sex.

He could feel Vince’s fear that it would hurt and that he’d make a fool of himself or disappoint his god-like version of Howard. He felt Vince’s deep, if seriously misguided, fear that Howard would walk out of his life forever.

Dream-Howard moaned and rubbed himself against Vince, his hand resting on Vince’s stomach.

He could feel Vince savoring of the touch and his eagerness to be held by dream-Howard. The thoughts made Howard sad. There really wasn’t an appropriate way for an 18-year-old boy to hold a thirteen-year-old. He’d tried his best to be comforting, it just wasn’t his strong suit. It still wasn’t.

He felt Vince’s relief echo his own as dream-Howard rolled back to his side of the bed, but he also felt Vince’s disappointment mixed with fear.

Howard was able to keep the slight body from rolling over and trying to make things right with dream-Howard. He felt a flutter of panic but whispered, “It’s all right, Vince. I’m just sleeping… I don’t know what I’m doing. I don’t want anything from you.”

He could feel Vince’s hurt feelings. He tried again.

“I don’t know what’s happening here, Vince, or why but… That lump next to you loves you. He loves you more than he’s ever loved anyone, and he wouldn’t do anything to hurt you right now. He’d happily take your father’s place in the hospital if it meant you could go back to being a carefree kid for a little longer. He doesn’t think of you… in that way… not yet. But he will, and it won’t be easy for him. It’s going to be really upsetting and confusing, actually, but he… I will always love you. I love you, Little Man, and I always will. I love you, Vince.”

He wants to keep talking, he wants to make Vince understand but there are sharp nails scraping his scalp and dragging him back to the waking world. He realizes too late that his final, “I love you, Vince,” was said out loud. He braces himself for the inevitable. It doesn’t occur to him to beg for his life anymore, he just waits for the pain to end.

xxx

Old Gregg hasn’t quite gotten the hang of ‘love’ yet. A few times, he thought he’d found love but it turned out to be something else. Curly Jefferson wasn’t love. Slash wasn’t love – though he still made Old Gregg feel tingly. Old Gregg loved his father, that’s why he kept the ornery bastard alive.

He thought he felt love the first time he spied Howard bickering with his pretty lady man friend. He’d been ready to remove the lady man from the picture when he fortuitously chose to leave on his own, on a raft.

And then Old Gregg had Howard all to himself, if only for a short time. The hours when Gregg believed the big Northerner was his one true love had been the happiest of his life. Howard was different from the others. While the others had screamed in terror, Howard had been calm and flippant. Even when threatened to be stuffed alive, Howard moved smoothly into the character of leading man without soaking his clothes through with sweat, unlike Slash.

Even though Howard betrayed him by leaving, betrayed him by stealing the funk, and betrayed him by running back to his pretty little friend, Old Gregg did not want to kill Howard. For a while, Gregg thought that was love: the desire not to murder someone (instead of the indifference one normally feels).

But now he knew there was more to love than not wanting someone dead.

Howard had just said his pretty friend’s name again. He said it sometimes in his sleep or during their love making times. It didn’t make Old Gregg happy but it no longer filled him with blind rage.

What Howard did during their times changed the world for Gregg. What he’d experienced of sex before had been angry and frightening but Howard was quiet and gentle. Gregg normally ignored his mangina in favor of his shenis. The shenis was much easier to operate. Nearly any kind of contact brought pleasure to the shenis. A sharp wind could bring pleasure to the shenis. He’d offered his mangina for Howard’s pleasure because he knew Howard would want to feel like a strong man (as explained to him by his old man). He hadn’t expected Howard to bring Gregg pleasure. Howard was surely in possession of some kind of ancient wisdom and Gregg wondered why he wasn’t honored among the land dwellers for his skill. He had brought Gregg more pleasure with his thumb than Gregg had ever experienced before.

Hearing Howard speak the other’s name made Gregg jealous and angry and he did raise his hand to strike the unfaithful thoughts from his lover’s head.

But then Howard had trembled with fear, his hands raised over his face, trying to protect himself from Gregg’s fist.

Seeing Howard afraid made Gregg feel unhappy.

“Stop being scared, Howard,” Gregg ordered, “Old Gregg loves you.”

“I’m sorry Gregg,” Howard whispered, his voice trembling as much as his hands.

The Hitcher laughed and walked over. He ran his hand along Howard’s bare thigh, “Nothing to be scared of, boy. We’re going to take care of you just fine.”

Howard tried to keep a sheet over his body but Gregg’s father was trying to touch him everywhere. Old Gregg knew his father coveted anything that was not his. It was just one of the character flaws Old Gregg had been able to identify in his father over the centuries.

“Old Gregg, please, don’t let him…” Howard whispered, softly. He was still shaking with fear.

“Father knows not to make love times to Howard,” Gregg said, trying to sound soothing as he ran his nails through Howard’s hair, careful not to draw blood.

“That’s right, sonny boy,” the Hitcher sneered, running a nail from Howard’s testicles to his anus, “I’m not gonna try and make love to ya, Howard.”

Gregg liked to watch Howard squirm, his body was more sensitive than most humans, but the touching made Howard afraid. Old Gregg didn’t like to see Howard afraid.

Maybe that was love.

Old Gregg used one arm to knock the Hitcher across the room, “Father is scaring Howard. Stay away.”

The Hitcher climbed to his feet, “Oi, the ingratitude! I raised you from a guppy when your mum abandoned you…”

“Old Greggory is tired of that story. Perhaps father has a new one.”

“Perhaps I’ll go for a walk, s’almost Mardi Gras. The streets’ll be filled with brain dead and drunken tourists looking for a time they’ll never remember. I’d ‘ate to leave them disappointed,” the Hitcher said, with a jaunty tip of his hat, “I’ll leave the two of you in privacy.”

Old Gregg smiled at his father’s generosity and turned his gaze to Howard. He watched the big man’s body relax as Gregg’s father left the cave.

Old Gregg ran his hand over Howard’s broad chest, “We’re alone, my love.”

Howard looked worried so Gregg tried to be more gentle with his touch.

xxx

Sally woke up to find herself in the arms of that hairy guy from that band that did that song. And that other song that sounded just like it.

That’s right, she was on a mission with Slash.

And the ghost of Marie Laveau.

She had returned to New Orleans to study the effects of fracking, visit her family and get wasted for Mardi Gras. How had she been blown so far off course?

Vince and Marie were deep in conversation. The Voodoo queen ran her hand along his sharp features and spoke too quietly for Sally to discern her words but Vince looked thoughtful. Then his face broke into one of his broad and disarming smiles. That’s how she got blown off course, that irresistible smile.

She and Slash watched as Marie took Vince’s scarf from her “grave” and wound it around his head into a turban much like her own. Oddly enough, it suited him. It seemed as though all hats suited Vince.

And then she was gone. Slash summed up Sally’s feelings by whispering, “Holy fucking shit. Am I high?”

xxx

Sally navigated as Slash steered her boat. She was beautiful in her fierce concentration. Vince could imagine her working in a lab with beakers, only to suddenly release her wild curls from a bun as she yelled, “Eureka!” He could almost hear Howard lecturing him on getting all his understanding of science from bad horror movies. It was enough to bring tears to his eyes. He couldn’t possibly miss an arm or a leg as much as he missed his Howard. When Howard had gone off to be an actor, Vince had waited impatiently for him to either return or call for Vince to join him. He never thought they would stay apart. Once Howard decided to leave the zoo with Vince, he’d felt confident that they would be a double act forever. Howard loved being a zoo keeper but he loved Vince more. Bollo had been all too willing to rough Howard up and make it look realistic that Howard had been over-powered rather than complicit in Bollo’s “escape”. They had all been prepared for Howard to balk at the plan, but instead, he took it all in stride.

He only made one demand. Bollo had to kick Bob Fossil in the ass on the way out. Although Bollo and Howard rarely saw eye to eye, they seemed to be of one mind when it came to Fossil.

Poor Fossil literally didn’t know what hit him. He’d lost his tape recorder in the scuffle.

Vince had been ready to move on before Naboo announced he was being “called” to take a familiar and had even considered leaving a few times, but not without Howard. Never without Howard.

Sally cast him a sympathetic look and Vince forced a smile. People who had never met Howard were risking their lives to find him, the least he could do was not bring them down with his maudlin thoughts. He couldn’t be positive but after one of Vince’s mini-breakdowns, he was pretty sure he heard Slash calling Axl on his mobile, just to say hi.

“Now, what exactly did Marie say about Howlin’ Jimmy Jefferson?” Sally asked.

“She said he moved out of his swamp because he was afraid of a turtle from outer space,” Vince explained.

Again.

“You’re absolutely sure she said turtle?” Sally asked.

Again.

“Yes.”

“From outer space?”

“Yes.”

Sally turned back to her charts.

xxx

Vince wasn’t asleep, but he wasn’t awake either. He could feel the rocking of the boat, he could smell the swamp water. He could also see Howard, naked except for a thin sheet. Marie said these “dream walks” were a gift, similar to bi-location. She said love was the second most powerful force in the human world, the first being (obviously) Marie Laveau.

“Howard, we’re coming to save you! I just need to find a turtle from outer space and we’ll be all set.”

Howard frowned, “Not the Star Turtle.”

“Yeah! That’s the one! He’s gonna help us. I think. Marie Laveau said he scared the Spirit of Jazz out of the Black Swamp and…”

“Vince?”

“Yeah, Howard?”

Howard took Vince’s hand and pulled it to his face. He didn’t look at Vince, he just stared at the ceiling but his sheet was gone.

Vince gave Howard a chaste kiss on the forehead, “S’all right, Howard. I’m here now and we’re going to get you through this.”

He could almost feel Howard’s fear. Fears. Howard was afraid of so many things.

“C’mon, Howard! You’ve been to hell and back! You’ll be okay. I won’t let you not be okay,” Vince promised before he began trailing kisses down Howard’s stomach. It had been a long time since he’d been with a man, hazy dreams aside, but nothing could have been more natural than taking Howard into his mouth, using his hands to stroke every available inch of his big, warm, swamp-smelling body. The swamp smell was putting him off a bit but, everything else was pure Howard. The man he’d loved since he was child. Big, strong, brainy…

Weak, fearful, old before his time…

Howard’s thoughts were echoing in Vince’s brain.

Handsome, brave, kind… Vince thought, scrunching his forehead with the effort of trying to drown out the negative voice.

Broken, scared, insane…

Beautiful.

Unworthy…

Never!

Vince tried to show Howard with his thoughts and with his hands and with his mouth just how much he cared. Once Howard managed to orgasm, Vince whispered loving nonsense into his ear as Old Gregg held his pet tightly. He could see Old Gregg as clear as day. He was encouraged by the gentleness in Old Gregg’s touch. He’d seemed much more frightening in the earlier dreams. Now Gregg was looking at Howard with less crazed possessiveness. He looked loving. Vince saw a twisted version of his own love reflected in strangely familiar eyes.

[nextpage title=”Chapter 14″]

Chapter 14

It took some convincing but Slash came around and was singing “Sweet Child’O’Mine”, complete with singing out his guitar solos.

“Sweet child of my-ye-yine…”

Vince was meant to stay asleep so he could keep track of Howard and Old Gregg. He couldn’t see Howard, though. All he could see was the back of his eyelids.

xxx

That part of the male brain that sometimes does, but often does not, wake up him up before he comes in his pants had just kicked in and Vince was sitting up in bed.

He batted away the hand that was on him. Strange and upsetting images flooded Vince’s brain, telling him why he needed to be afraid of people in his bedroom. He remembered Nan Moon screaming at him and dragging him out of bed to clean some imaginary “filth” that only she could see. He could feel Howard’s mum holding him and crying and talking about all the reasons she hated her life and how she would kill herself if weren’t for him. There was some creepy guy asking Howard if he liked candy until Howard screamed for his mother, leading to another night of his mother’s hysterical crying – this time about how she was a terrible mum and couldn’t take care of him properly.

And now, it was a golden haired imp, staring at him with huge, blue eyes full of fear. Vince recognized himself but he knew his hair had never been so golden, it had always been dirty blond. He’d certainly never been so cherubic, he’d always been skinny and pointy. Even as an infant, he’d had a sort of boney charm rather than chubby cheeks.

New, horrible thoughts assaulted Vince. Shame smothered his already tenuous grasp on reason. All he could feel was hostility coming at him from every direction.

Monster! Freak! Paedophile!

Vince wanted to cover his ears and block out the hateful words but he couldn’t seem to move his hands.

He looked down at the big Northern mits in his lap. They certainly weren’t his hands. He could never work a sewing machine with those giant hands.

He tried to sort through the thoughts surrounding him and come up with something coherent, something to help him get sorted.

Why would I hurt Vince?

“You didn’t hurt Vince. He’s fine,” Vince yelled, trying to be heard over the din, “I don’t understand where all this is coming from. You just play some Bowie and I’m back to sleep, a little embarrassed but fine. You never done nothing to me.”

He scared. He’s trapped here.

“He’s scared because he realized you was just sleeping. He thought you was… He has a big crush on you, that’s all. He’s just a kid,” Vince explained, feeling embarrassed for his younger self. The horrible thoughts didn’t stop, but they slowed down and Vince could breath.

The dream or memory or whatever it was began to progress as usual and soon little Vince was sleeping peacefully while Howard worried about what would happen when Vince told his parents. Would they ever believe Howard hadn’t meant something untoward? He’d only meant to keep Vince safe from his personal house of horrors. He tended to forget Vince was growing up.

“That’s cause I never really grow up, do I? I just get taller.”

What if they pressed charges?

Vince’s heart was pounding with Howard’s increasing anxiety.

He would never see Vince again. The thought seemed so much more upsetting than going to gaol as a pervert.

“You really love me, don’t you?” Vince asks as he sees himself through young Howard’s eyes. He’d always assumed Howard was fond of him as a child but he’s surprised how much the older boy cared before Vince really had anything to offer. He was too young to really be a friend and Howard wasn’t attracted to him yet…

You’re so sweet and cute, like a kitten dressed as a puppy.

“Oi, that’s a bit much, dontcha think? I’m a bit weird looking…”

You sing to yourself even when other people are around and you try to make me sing, too, and you painted a pencil case for me when I started university.

“You never used it! No way.”

I kept it on my desk in every class. I liked when people asked about it and the drawings on the covers of my notebooks.

Vince had forgotten those. He’d forgotten how indulgent Howard had been in those days. He even let Vince decorate a pair of his shoes.

Your drawings make me smile. Before I met you, I hardly ever smiled. I won’t smile again if…

“S’all turns out fine, you can relax. Mum understands everything and tells me I have to behave so I don’t cause trouble for you.”

A deep, Howardy chuckle erupts and suddenly turns into a sob and Vince is hit by a wave of sadness. Poor Howard doesn’t understand how families are supposed to work. He’ll always be surprised by acceptance.

There’s a cold hand on Howard’s shoulder and the world gets blurry.

xxx

Howard’s eyes snap open and the Hitcher is standing over him. He searches for Gregg with his eyes.

“‘e’s not ‘ere, my boy. ‘e’ll be gone for awhile. It’s just you and me.”

Long nails dug into Howard’s chin as his face was pulled nose to nose with the Hitcher.

“Where’s he gone?” Howard asked, trying to keep his voice light, “Did he pop out to hit a shop…”

Howard was suddenly on the floor and the Hitcher was opening his trousers.

Vince, help me, Vince. I can’t do this. I can’t.

“So don’t do it,” Vince suggested. He was standing in front of Howard: long, lean, pale and naked.

“I don’t know how to escape. Where they go, it’s just rock. I can’t figure out how they get out…”

A hand was pulling him by the hair.

“At least fight, ya know?” Vince continued with a toss of his black hair, “Don’t just give in all the time. Have some self-respect. Is the word no even in your vocabulary?”

“He’ll kill me.”

Vince’s voice is gentle and tender as he says, “Don’t you think that might be for the best? Do you really want me to find you like this? Spend the rest of my life taking care of you, knowing the truth about you?”

The first slap knocked Howard back to the ground.

“Good for you, Howard!” Vince yelled, his face lit up with a grin, “Yer finally showing some backbone!”

xxx

Vince crashed to the floor of the boat. Sally was screaming and had her gun drawn.

Slash was gone.

“Oh my god! It was a monster, he grabbed Slash, I didn’t even have time… Holy fuck, Vince. This is real. This is fucking really happening.”

Vince wrapped his arms around Sally, carefully avoiding the gun she had pointed at the water where Slash must have disappeared.

“We gotta be close, right?” Vince said as he patted Sally’s big, fluffy hair, “We’re almost there. We just gotta find this Star Turtle…”

“How are you so calm? There’s a fucking sea monster in this water…”

“These things happen to me’n’Howard all the time. You just learn to go with it, really. Howard just woke up so he’s…”

If Old Gregg was busy grabbing Slash, he must not have been the one to wake up Howard. Vince’s stomach twisted at the thought but he couldn’t start panicking now. They were so close.

Hang on, Howard. Just stay alive and I’ll be there soon, he thought as hard as he could.

Vince grabbed the bass Slash had brought along to call the Star Turtle and turned to his sexy sidekick.

“You know how to play one of these things?”

“I played bass in a environmental activist lesbian funk group in college,” Sally said as she took the bass in her shaking hands.

“Where you any good?”

“God, no. We were horrible but I learned a few licks.”

xxx

Vince screwed his eyes shut and focused on the funky bass line, trying to bring Howard into focus.

Come on, Howard. Help me out here. Reach back.

Nothing but the back of his eyelids. Howard needed to fall asleep, pass out or…

Reach back, Howard!

Nothing. Howard was either awake and doing perfectly well, on his own with the Hitcher or…

Stop talking to that horrible Vince! Listen to me! I’m real, not him! He’s a jerk.

Nothing.

Nothing.

Vince?

It was whispery and weak but it was Howard.

xxx

As soon as Howard lost consciousness, Vince was there.

“You! Out! We don’t need you,” Vince barked at the black haired Vince, “You’re horrible and I ain’t that pointy!”

The Hitcher was staring at Howard, a pocket knife in hand.

“This is going to cause me some discomfiture with m’boy,” he mused, fiddling with the knife as he examined Howard’s prone form, “Might be easier ta explain yer complete absence than yer current state.”

Vince plucked the knife out of the Hitcher’s hand.

“Look, Howard, it worked! This is well cool! All right.”

Vince smiled as he held the knife up for Howard’s appreciation.

“Be careful, Vince!” Howard whispered but that was not a word in Vince’s vocabulary.

The Hitcher covered his non-Polo eye and surveyed the room. He ended up looking vaguely in Vince’s direction.

“He sees you!” Howard hissed, “Get out of here!”

“Now what might you be?” the Hitcher asked, moving towards Vince.

“Vince Noir, Rock’n’roll star,” Vince answered with his normal conviviality, “And I just need to rescue my friend. We can keep Old Gregg right out of this…”

“Noir? The boney fella with the big, blue peepers?”

“I prefer to think of myself as having strong features…”

“Welcome home, m’boy,” the Hitcher said with a syrupy sweet smile.

“Thanks, it’s nice to be… What? I never been here before,” Vince said, backing away from the green menace.

“I don’t know the French word for swamp but I know what Noir means. Yer right where you belong, m’boy! Here is the Black Swamp.”

Howard should have gone along with whatever the Hitcher wanted. He’d be in pain but he’d be able to stand up, able to help Vince instead of being completely useless.

“S’all right, Howard,” Vince said without looking away from the Hitcher, “He can’t hurt me. I’m not really here.”

“You’re holding that knife, ain’t ya, boy?” the Hitcher sneered, “You’re real enough.”

[nextpage title=”Chapter 15″]

Chapter 15

Sally’s fingers were already sore, she hadn’t played in ages, but things were getting desperate. She’d played nearly every bass run she could remember and there was still no sign of life in the water. Vince was on the floor of the boat, talking to himself, and somewhere Slash was trapped with a transsexual merman with abandonment issues. She needed help.

As she often did in times of stress, she turned to Chaka Khan.

“You ain’t got no kind of feeling insi-i-i-ide,” she sang with more feeling than skil, “I got something that’ll sure ‘nough set your stuff on fi-i-i-ire…”

If the Star Turtle didn’t like “Tell Me Something Good”, he was surely a dick and incapable of helping them anyway.

“Mmmm, Chaka Khan.”

The voice was deep and strange. Sally nearly beat the intruder with her bass before realizing it was just a talking turtle.

Just a talking turtle. This was her life now.

“Are you really the Star Turtle? From outer space?” she asked, not caring how foolish she sounded.

“You know it, baby, the one and only.”

“And you met Harry Connick Jr.?”

“You know I did. He showed me the best of New Orleans jazz.”

“What did you think of his album about you?”

The Star Turtle squatted the thick legs resting on the edge of the boat in what seemed to be a turtle equivalent of a shrug, “I thought it was a solid effort.”

Sally smiled, this had to be the real thing.

“There is apparently a merman…”

“The funky sea transsexual?’

“Yes, him and his father…”

“The Hoxton Rapist?”

“I suppose… Anyway, they’ve got my friend,” she pointed at Vince who was mumbling and holding out his hand as though he were holding something, “Well, they have his friend, Howard, and now they’ve got Slash. Do you know Guns’n’Roses?”

The Star Turtle nodded, “I thought I saw the merman swimming by with some breathing seaweed. That might have been Slash.”

“Can you help us find them?”

The turtle looked as puzzled as a turtle could look with his naturally wizened face, “I can take you to their cave but they don’t take kindly to visitors. Least not for long.”

Sally refused to think about what the turtle meant. All that mattered was they finally knew where they were going.

“Why isn’t that one green?” the turtle asked, looking at Vince with interest.

“What? No, he’s human, he’s just… caught up in some Voo-Doo thing, I don’t know what it is exactly…”

“The merman and his father are green.”

“He’s got nothing to do with them, they have his friend.”

The turtle nodded, “He looks like one of them but then, all humans look a bit alike to me. No offense. It’s just hard to tell you apart when you don’t bring your houses with you.”

“No offense taken,” Sally assured the turtle, “Please help us find our friends.”

xxx

Howard could see everything but his body remained unconscious. What he had attributed to a simple descent into insanity was now starting to seem like something real.

“Vince, I can’t move,” Howard whispered.

“You’re unconscious and you got a ton of blood on your face. If I couldn’t see you breathin’, I would be well scared right now,” Vince explained as he warily moved about the cave, holding the Hitcher’s knife, “I’m a bit scared now.”

“Why can you hear me?” Howard asked.

The Hitcher glanced in Howard’s direction, still covering his non-Polo peeper.

“What in the name of all that’s evil is goin’ on ‘ere?”

“None of your business, ya berk! Now let me’n’Howard go or I’ll stab you up,” Vince snapped with a threatening jab of his knife.

“Oh!” laughed the Hitcher, “A boy made of sunshine’s gonna give me a stabbin’! I don’t know what branch of the Noir family yer from boy but it ain’t the stabbin’ branch. You ever killed some’in, little boy?”

“No,” Vince said with his compulsive honesty, “but no one’s ever hurt Howard this bad before, neither.”

“Vince, don’t get yourself killed,” Howard pleaded, “He’s pure, liquid evil, eh? You can’t fight him.”

“Howard, you watch the wrong kind of movies,” Vince said with an unusually thoughtful tone, “We’re the good guys.”

Howard didn’t bother pointing out his own moral relativism because Vince clearly was the good guy. Even at his worst and most selfish, Vince didn’t have a malicious bone in his body. He just didn’t think before (during or after) he spoke. He lived in the moment and it was part of his impish charm. Why it never got him killed was anybody’s guess.

The Hitcher was circling Vince, coming between him and Howard.

“I can smell the Voo-Doo on you, boy,” the Hitcher snarled, “I ain’t afraid of charms and chicken bones.”

“Gross! I don’t have chicken bones! I do have this packet of gris-gris that Marie Laveau give me…”

As Vince held out the small packet he’d kept in his boot, the Hitcher stepped backwards and tripped over Howard’s unconscious body.

“Oi! Get off of Howard! You done enough damage!” Vince yelled, his eyes quickly glancing at and away from Old Gregg’s watercolors. The black haired Vince had a point. As much as Howard didn’t want to actually die, he was not looking forward to living with Vince after being rescued. His hopes of altering the story to make it more palatable for everyone had rather relied on no one seeing graphic water colors of his ordeal (compete with terrible perspective technique and half-assed cross-hatching).

But he still wanted to survive. He still believed he had something to give.

The Hitcher made a big show of apologizing to Howard’s unconscious form, being downright solicitatious before pulling a bolo knife out of his boot.

“No, I ‘ave done quite a bit of stabbin’ in my time, sonny boy. D’ja really want to go toe-to-toe with me?”

“Go, Vince! Go back to where you’re safe!” Howard yelled. The Hitcher turned slightly. Though his actual eyes were closed, Howard could see the suspicious stare the Hitcher was giving his nearly lifeless body. He clearly knew something was happening but couldn’t quite get a handle on what.

“I ain’t leavin’ you, Howard! No way am I leavin’ you!” Vince cried before disappearing.

xxx

Vince’s eyes shot open as he landed in the cold water. Sally had him around the waist and he was still holding a pocket knife.

“You found the Star Turtle!” Vince yelled, “All right! We gotta get to Howard quick fast. The Hitcher is there and… and Howard’s hurt real bad.”

“Don’t worry, brother,” assured the Star Turtle, “Just take a breath and hold on tight.”

Vince did as he was told, gripping the shell tightly as the turtle slipped under water. The slow moving turtle was gone, replaced by an Olympic swimmer. It was a job to hold onto his shell as he tore through the inky blackness of the swamp. Just as Vince thought he was going to pass out from lack of oxygen, they surfaced.

“We’re almost there,” the turtle announced, “Take a deep breath.”

Vince and Sally did as the were told and the three plunge back into the darkness of the swamp.

“Where’s the entrance?” the Star Turtle asked.

Vince looked at the wall of stone.

“I know you can see it, Vince. Show us the door,” the Turtle rumbled.

He could see it. Why hadn’t he noticed the glow before?

xxx

Howard was losing track of time. He could have sworn he’d been conscious since Vince had disappeared and yet, he did not witness the arrival of a breathing heap of seaweed.

“Howard,” Howard jumped at the sounded of Old Gregg’s voice, “This is Slash. He and Old Gregg were in love but Slash ran away. Slash and Old Gregg have matching tracking devices.”

“Oh, fuck,” the seaweed moaned, “You had me tagged, too?”

“Of course, Slash. Slash was the first man to give Old Gregg jewelry, he had it shot into my back, but Old Gregg has moved on.”

Old Gregg gave Howard a loving stare.

“Where’s your old man?” Howard asked in a carefully neutral tone.

“He was touching Howard without Old Gregg’s permission. He’s going to need to rest for a while.”

Howard nearly smiled. The Hitcher was reaping what he’d sown in rather a literal way.

“Old Gregg and Slash need to talk and Howard needs to rest. Old Gregg will put Howard in the pantry with father, where it’s quiet.”

Howard pleaded but Old Gregg shushed him in a way that left no room for argument. Howard soon found himself on a thin mattress on the floor of the small ‘pantry’/ alcove with a wooden door. He was only feet away from the unconscious Hitcher and surrounded by hundreds of bottles of Bailey’s.

He desperately tried to remain alert but he’d lost a lot of blood and it wasn’t long before his eyes were drifting shut.

xxx

“Howard! Howard!”

Howard blinked up at Vince, there was just enough light peeking under the pantry door to let him see Vince’s golden blond hair dangling in Howard’s face.

He was trapped in a pantry with the Hitcher and Vince was kneeling over him. Howard closed his eyes and grabbed Vince by the shoulders. Whatever was about to happen, he was in no shape to face it.

“I can’t be brave, Vince. I can’t, I’m sorry. Please help.”

He pressed his lips to Vince’s but the younger man was pulling away.

“No, Vince, please…” Howard held him tightly but the Vince was still wriggling free, “I need you. I’m sorry, I do. Please don’t leave me.”

“S’all right, Howard, I’m here to save you,” Vince said with a smile, his eyes never meeting Howard’s.

Howard ran his fingers through soft yellow hair, “Thank you, Vince. I love you so much.”

Vince smiled sweetly but still pulled away when Howard tried for another kiss. Howard was beginning to feel anxious, blond Vince was supposed to be the loving Vince.

He tried to sit up but a pain in his ribs sent him crashing back to the floor.

“Vince, I’m too weak for this. Just… please be sweet,” Howard ran a hand along Vince’s jaw line, “Just be beautiful and kind and… just be sweet to me a little longer. All right?”

Vince had tears in his eyes, “S’okay, Howard. It’s all going to be okay, now. Can you stand?”

Howard staggered to his feet with Vince’s help, “What’s happening, Vince? I don’t understand.”

“I’m saving you, Howard,” Vince repeated, pulling Howard’s arm around his slim shoulders.

“You’re always saving me. I’m sorry. I’m sorry you always have to save me,” Howard leaned heavily on Vince as he was pulled along, now a literal burden on the young man. Black-haired Vince’s words were ringing in his ears. What would become of Vince if he found Howard? What kind of life would he have tied to a broken shell of man like Howard?

Vince gave him a quick kiss, just barely hitting Howard’s lips, before looking away, “We save each other, Howard.”

“What’s going to happen to me, now?” Howard asked, his tremulously. He despised the weakness in his own voice but Vince remained gentle and free of scorn.

“You’re going to be fine. I’m going to make sure of it,” Vince promised.

Vince swung open the door of the pantry to reveal a soaking wet woman holding a gun wrapped in a plastic bag.

Vince’s sexy sidekick.

“Is this… real?” Howard asked, turning to get a proper look at Vince.

Vince was soaked to the bone, his blond hair hanging lankly around his face which bore no sign of make-up. His nose was slightly freckled and there was a slight scar near his hairline from his Nicky Clarke hot iron. Dream Vince was always glossy magazine perfect, an idealized picture of perfection.

And he never smelled like a petting zoo.

He was really being rescued.

The world went black again.

[nextpage title=”Chapter 16″]

Chapter 16

Old Gregg was huddled over Slash, hissing like a cat. He was infinitely more frightening in person than in Vince’s drawings. Meanwhile, Vince was struggling to keep the unconscious Howard from collapsing to the floor. Sally felt sickened by the amount of visible, physical damage that had been done to Howard in only a few days. She had seen dozens of pictures and drawings of Howard. Vince was constantly showing them to people and animals in hopes of a lead but then he also just sat and looked at them whenever there was a quiet moment. There had been varying degrees of unkemptness but each picture had featured a handsome man with a mustache and a mixture of affection and annoyance in his warm, narrow eyes.

The right side of Howard’s face was swollen, and there were two lines of stitches on his forehead. His lip was clearly split under his mustache and five day stubble. He was covered in bruises and scratches. He was also naked.

“I’ve got dry clothes in the boat, Vince,” Sally said without looking away from Old Gregg, “We just need something to get him through until then.”

She could see Vince out of the corner of her eye, struggling to gently place Howard on the pile of thin mattresses on the ground. Eventually, the two of them just collapsed with a thud.

“Listen here, mother licker,” Sally declared, something about Old Gregg was bringing out the Foxy Brown in her, “I’m leaving here with Howard and Slash. Now, if you want, I’ll leave a few bullets behind – in your skull- or you can just stand back and I’ll leave you in peace.”

“Howard belongs with Old Gregg…” the merman began.

“No!” Vince yelled, “He belongs with me! He’s always belonged with me. I would never… Look at what you did to him.”

Old Gregg looked a little less feral as he watched Vince trying to put a beige suit on Howard’s unconscious body.

“Old Gregg is still learning how to take care of Howard…”

“Yeah? Well, it looks like you beat the shit out of him,” Sally snapped, “And you’re not getting a second chance so hands in the air or get shot between the eyes. Your choice, brother.”

“Don’t shoot him.”

Sally turned for a second at the unfamiliar voice and Old Gregg made a run for Howard, but shot in the leg brought him to a halt. He lay on the ground hissing but didn’t seem overly troubled by the bullet in his body. He was reacting like he’d stubbed his toe.

Howard was awake and fumbling to button his own shirt while Vince hovered, not quite touching Howard but ready to catch him if he fell.

“Old Gregg,” Howard said in a deep but gentle voice, “I know you don’t understand… You need to try and find someone you can love and not kill. Maybe a shark?”

“The human is right,” the Star Turtle added with a rumble, “Humans have thin skin and tiny bones they only cover with a bit of squishy fat. They can’t handle your funky sea lovin’. You need to let these humans go.”

Old Gregg was looking at Howard with sorrowful eyes, “But what about the Love Times, Howard? Old Gregg and Howard…”

“I don’t want to see you dead, Old Gregg. That’s the extent of my emotional investment here. You need to let Slash get back to doing… whatever it is he does and you need to let me live my life in peace. If you can promise you’ll leave me be, no one will hurt you.”

“Is that really a good idea, Howard? I mean, he did lure us to another country with a rather complicated plot…” Vince offered with trepidation.

“Promise me, Old Gregg and I will believe you.”

Old Gregg’s blue eyes were filled with such sadness, Sally nearly lowered her gun.

Nearly.

“But Old Gregg loves Howard.”

Howard sighed, “I know. I’m sorry but I love someone else. It’s not fair but that’s how life is sometimes.”

Old Gregg and Vince glared at one another and Sally could suddenly understand why the Star Turtle thought they were of the same ilk. Vince was a kitten to Old Gregg’s tiger but they both looked ready to bare their claws.

“Can Old Gregg give Howard one last kiss before he leaves?” Old Gregg asked in a tiny voice.

“No,” Howard said in a gentle but firm tone, “and if you take one step towards me, that young lady is going to shoot you in the face. Good bye, Old Gregg.”

xxx

Once they managed to climb back into the boat with the help of the Star Turtle, Sally grabbed the blankets and track suits she kept stocked in her boat for emergencies. The Star Turtle promised to follow them and make sure they got to land without any unwanted company.

“Okay, guys. Hypothermia is a serious risk here. Everyone needs to strip completely, put on dry clothes and wrap up tight…” Sally drifted off as she watched Howard’s face. He was practically radiating pain.

“But,” Sally continued, “I didn’t sign up to be a lesbian so I could look at a bunch of shriveled white penises so let’s work out a privacy system.”

They took turns holding up blankets until they were all huddled in their track suits and burlap blankets. They looked like a group of shipwrecked mobsters.

No one said a word as Sally steered them back towards land. It was so quiet, Sally could hear Vince’s teeth chattering.

“Are you all right, Vince?” Sally asked, “Do you need some more heat packs?”

“I’m f-f-f-fine,” was Vince’s unconvincing response.

“Here, Little Man,” Howard said softly, holding his blanket open, “I told you the GI diet was a bad idea. A person needs some body fat.”

Vince carefully snuggled into Howard’s side, “Cheers, Howard.”

There were a few more minutes of silence before Vince began sobbing.

“Hey, Little Man,” Howard whispered, “It’s all right, yeah? Everything is going to be fine now.”

Vince snuffled and nodded, “Yeah, Howard. Everything’s gonna be fine, cause you’re back and I’m not leaving you alone for a second. I’ll be at your jazzercise classes, hanging out with Lester Cornflakes, shopping at the Geography Teacher’s Clothing Emporium…”

Howard chuckled then grimaced in pain.

“Oh, Howard,” Vince sighed, carefully resting his head on Howard’s shoulder, “thanks for warming me up.”

Howard tentatively pressed his lips to Vince’s wet hair, “Any time, Little Man. Thanks for saving me. Again.”

“We save each other,” Vince corrected, “We’re a double act, right?”

“That’s right,” Howard agreed flatly, his face suddenly devoid of expression.

“Hey, Howard?

“Yeah?”

“I met Lil’ Wayne.”

Sally blamed the slight nip in the air for the fact her eyes wouldn’t stop watering.

xxx

Once they were off the boat, Howard seemed a million miles away. Vince wanted to snuggle Howard but there didn’t seem to be a part of the big man that wasn’t covered in bruises and while Howard hadn’t said the words – “Don’t touch me” was writ loud and clear on his face and in his body language.

Slash was picked up in a limo filled with cartoonishly large men that Vince assumed were his new body guards. Sally walked Vince and Howard to their hotel room and offered to sleep on the floor, with her gun, but Howard insisted they were fine. Vince gave Sally a tight hug, at a loss for words to express his gratitude, but she seemed to understand. From day one, Sally had understood everything.

“So… that’s your sexy side kick?” Howard asked after she left, his smile not reaching his eyes.

“Yeah, she’s genius, Howard! She helped me out every step of the way. I don’t know what I would have done without her,” even as Vince gushed, his stomach knotted at the very thought. Without Sally, it would have taken even longer to find Howard and it had taken so long.

Howard nodded as he stiffly tried to pull clothes out of his suitcase.

“Hey, Howard, let me get the shower going for you,” Vince offered. Watercolors kept popping up in his brain no matter how hard he tried to forget what he’d seen. Howard surely wanted a shower.

“You go first,” Howard suggested, gingerly sitting on his bed, “You’re the one nearly freezing. You’re still shivering like a Chihuahua without a pretentious sweater.”

“We’ll shower together! It’ll be like that time the monkeys tried to form a rebellion and they were throwing their shit at us…” Vince slapped his hand over his mouth, realizing what he’d just suggested. Howard’s face was neutral but he was digging his fingers into his own thighs so hard, Vince was sure he was leaving bruises.

“I didn’t mean anything, Howard,” Vince explained, staring at the bright orange water shoes Sally had given him to wear, “I’m not trying to be funny or act up…”

“I know, Vince,” Howard said, cutting him off, “I… I’m a little unsteady on my feet. It might be best if you were there…”

Howard was blushing from his toes to his hairline, reminding Vince again of those god awful water colors. Even in the cave, Vince had wondered how Gregg could draw Howard in such loving (if unskilled) detail and not see how much it hurt Howard to have his privacy invaded in such a blatant manner. Howard, who wore stripy pajamas to bed and a bathrobe when he took a shower, had been mortified by the loincloth he’d been forced to wear on Xooberon. Vince’s attempts to tell him he looked good only made Howard angry. Things had gotten hostile between them very quickly after that. Howard was very protective of his body and his personal space.

“I won’t look,” Vince promised, a little too loudly, causing Howard to look even more uncomfortable, “but you can lean on me. I can support you…”

Howard’s shoulder were shaking and there were tears on his cheeks but he didn’t make a sound. Vince kneeled in front of his friend, close but careful not to touch without invitation.

“I’m so sorry, Howard.”

Howard tersely shook his head no.

Vince waited with patience he didn’t know he possessed until Howard relaxed.

“You’re shivering, Little Man,” Howard said, his voice hoarse with emotion, “You need to warm up.”

“Come with me?” Vince asked, “Let me prop you up for a bit?”

Howard stared at the wall and nodded, “I supposed I can lean on you for a little while…”

Despite every horrible thing that had happened in the past five days, Vince felt a smile threatening to break out on his face. His Northern giant finally wanted his support.

[nextpage title=”Chapter 17″]

Chapter 17

Howard looked in the bathroom mirror and the Elephant Man looked back at him, the Elephant Man in need of a shave.

“Oi!” Vince cried, “I look disgustin’!  Why didn’t anyone hand me a comb?”

Howard watched Vince run his fingers through his snarled, half dried hair.  The young man looked thin and his eyes showed the stress of the last few days but he was, as always, beautiful.

“You look fine, Vince.  Quit fussing over yourself.” Lecturing Vince felt so normal. “Remember the story of Narcissus.”

“I ain’t gonna fall in a mirror, Howard, ‘less I’m tryin’ to get back to monkey hell, in which case you’ll be glad to see me!” Vince said with a bit of his normal cheekiness.

“Fair enough,” Howard admitted.  Vince turned on the shower and began pulling off his track suit.

“Why does this Sally keep track suits on her boat?” Howard asked as he hesitantly unzipped the jacket.  It wasn’t like he had anything to hide, Vince had certainly seen it all.  Sally had seen it all, hell, the guitar player from Guns’n’Roses had seen it all.

“She takes teams out to collect water.  She’s doing some kind of big study about fracking.  I don’t know what that means, though.  I thought it was something girls said when they didn’t want to swear,” Vince explained as he pulled off his bottoms, leaving him completely naked.

Howard pulled at his zip.  He could do this.

“Is she some kind of…?”

“Lady scientist?  Yeah.  Genius!  She’s bad ass and well brainy.  And sweet.”

Howard forced a smile, “I’m glad she was there to help you.  I was worried about you being on your own.  Especially in this city…”

He flinched when Vince threw his arms around Howard’s chest but he didn’t pull away, he just let himself be held.  He was never going to pull away from Vince again.  He’d accept every hug and tummy pat.  He was just going to take his fear of being touched and lock it in the same box deep in his brain where he kept all his other uncomfortable feelings.

“You were worried about me?” Vince sniffed, “If I didn’t find Sally, I don’t know what I’d have done.  She didn’t even know you but she never left my side, no matter how scary it got.”

“She’s obviously very fond of you, but who doesn’t love Vince Noir?” Howard teased.  His heart was racing and he felt weak, but he refused to end the embrace.

“It wasn’t just me, though, because I told her…” Vince hesitated, “I told her a lot about you and I think…  She just knew you were a good person is all, and she wanted you to be safe.”

“What did you tell her about me?” Howard asked, his old, workaday paranoia kicking in, “That I’m a jazz maverick, a genre spanner, a novelist?”

“Cyclist, stamp collector,” Vince added, not quite laughing, “I told her you were my best mate.”

“Thanks, Little Man.”

“And that I love you,” Vince added softly.

Vince had Howard’s arms pinned down so it took some squirming to return the hug, “You know I love you, as well.”

Talking about his feelings wasn’t that bad, it was only slightly more uncomfortable than stapling a picture to his forehead.

“And I told her how you took care of me, even when I didn’t deserve it and was horrible to you,” Vince added with a sniff, “And how… I’m sorry, Howard.”

Howard rocked Vince back and forth, his own anxiety easing in the face of Vince’s distress, “Don’t do this, Vince.  Let’s get you in the shower, yeah?  You just need some rest and you’ll be right as rain.”

Vince sniffled and averted his eyes as Howard quickly stripped.

“Howard?  I know you don’t want to go to the hospital…” Vince began.

“No!  I’m fine, I don’t need a doctor.  I can sort myself out,” Howard snapped, immediately regretting the harshness of his tone.  He just couldn’t imagine trying to explain, being asked questions, being seen.

Vince was obviously fighting back tears and it was like a punch in the chest for Howard.

“Please don’t be upset, Vince.  I’m sorry.  I never want to see you unhappy ever again,” Howard said, resting his hands on Vince’s thin shoulders and forcing a smile, “You don’t know how much I’ve missed your sunshine.”

Vince was trying to smile back and Howard gave him another awkward hug. “Now get in the shower before you catch your death.”

xxx

Showering was awkward and painful but also wonderful.  The warm water, the chattering nonsense of Vince and the smell of a root boosting shampoo made him feel safe. Ish.

Vince yammered on about meeting celebrities, chatting with alligators and ghosts.  It all sounded rather fun but when Howard said as much, Vince started crying again.

“It was horrible!  I know it’s stupid and selfish but… it was so horrible for me!  I was so worried about you all the time and the dre… and everyone was being so helpful and I tried to be happy and not get them all depressed…”

Vince wrapped his arms around himself and squeezed his eyes shut, “I’m sorry, Howard, I keep doing things all wrong.  I meant to be cheerful for you but I keep cryin’.”

Howard pulled Vince into his arms as the warm water pelted his back.  Every part of his body hurt, but that pain had become familiar; seeing Vince upset was intolerable.  Howard was never comfortable with being touched, never even comfortable in his own skin, but Vince liked to be held and Howard was never going to let his Little Man down again.

“I’m so sorry, Howard,” Vince mumbled into Howard’s chest.

“Stop apologizing, Vince,” Howard tutted, “You’ve had a rough time of it…”

“I meant about…” Vince pressed his lips to a deep scratch on Howard’s chest, “I’m sorry it took so long.  I’m sorry you got… you got hurt…”

Howard tried shushing again but ended up with a hand over Vince’s mouth.  He needed to take care of Vince, make Vince happy, protect Vince from… whatever Vince wanted to be protected from.

“It’s all right, Vince, just…  I don’t want to see you unhappy,” Howard stroked Vince’s conditioner filled hair. “Just tell me what will make you happy.”

Howard rocked Vince back and forth until the younger man stopped shaking, his breathing still uneven and his erection poking against Howard’s thigh.

“Sorry…” Vince whispered, trying to pull back.

Howard shushed Vince again.  He moved his hand slowly, giving Vince plenty of time to stop him, before wrapping his hand around the younger man’s erection.

It only took a few strokes before Vince let out a choked sob and came in Howard’s hand.

Vince collapsed into Howard’s arms, managing to hit every bruise and scratch with his bony physique and yet feeling wonderful.

Howard cringed as Vince’s fingers sought out Howard’s flaccid cock.

“It’s naught to do with you, Little Man,” Howard whispered into Vince’s ear, “It’s me…”

“Howard,” Vince whispered, “You know I feel… that way about you and I always will, but you don’t have to do anything until you feel like… I mean, you don’t ever have to do anything ever but if you want to – I want to, too.  Does that make sense?”

“Barely,” Howard teased.  He wasn’t going to cry.  The desire to break down again and let Vince comfort him was shoved into that locked box and buried  deep with about 75% of his childhood memories.

xxx

Vince had planned to be a ball of sunshine, doting on Howard but keeping a respectful distance.  Instead he’d cried on the man’s shoulder while getting a handy in the shower.  He was starting to think he should have had Sally stay.  She’d know how to take care of Howard, she’d taken care of Vince for days – not once putting her needs before his (or Howard’s for that matter).

Now it was time for one more absurdly selfish act.

“Can I sleep in your bed, Howard?  We can push it up against the wall and I’ll be on the outside so if…” Vince trailed off as he realized where this clever idea for protecting Howard had come from.

Howard’s smile was tight and didn’t meet his eyes but he helped Vince push one of the beds flush against the wall.  Vince kept his eyes on the floor as Howard changed into his stripey pajamas.  Every bit of Howard’s skin seemed to be bruised and scratched.

“I don’t have any proper pajamas, Howard.  Can I borrow a pair of yours?” Vince asked.  He couldn’t possibly sleep in Howard’s bed in just his pants.

“Of course.  Whatever you like,” Howard said, his cheeks getting a bit pink as he stared at the ceiling.

Howard’s pajamas were far too big but he pulled the drawstring tight and rolled up the sleeves.  Howard laughed, but there was a hint of something else in his eyes.  Vince had the distinct impression Howard liked the way Vince looked in his pajamas.  He would store that bit of info away for a more appropriate time.

“Sally gave me this first aid kit,” Vince explained, pulling the white box with a red cross from under his bed, “it’s got all kinds of stuff in it to make you feel better.  There’s ice packs and numbing stuff and pain killers…”

“I’m fine,” Howard snapped.

“Sorry.”

“I didn’t mean to snap, Vince.  Thank you for trying to help me.  I… could use something for pain…”

Vince spent the next half hour playing doctor with Howard.  It only bore a superficial resemblance to the ways he’d imagined playing doctor with his Northern giant but it was nice, nonetheless.  When he finally crawled into bed, it felt almost natural.  There wasn’t a thought in his head when he kissed Howard on the cheek.

“Sorry, Howard.  Sorry about apologizing so much.  Sorry about… I’ll shut up.”

Howard smiled and pressed his lips to Vince’s forehead, “Thank you, Little Man, for everything.”

Howard turned his back to Vince, like he was going to go to sleep.

“Howard?  Howard?  Howard?”

“Yes?”

“If you have a bad dream, remember, you can always come be in my dream instead.”

Howard didn’t look back, “I don’t think it works that way.”

“I’m pretty sure it does,” Vince argued, “and you’re always welcomed in my dreams.  Open door policy, no shirt or shoes required…”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” Howard said in a level voice. “Lunatic.”

xxx

Parsley is on top of him and inside him, kissing him and stroking him everywhere.  They are as close as humanly possible.  Parsley nuzzles his neck and whispers beautiful things in Bunches’ ear.  He’s just barely moving, giving Bunches time to adjust to his size.  Parsley was slow and careful but there’s still a sting.

Vince wanders through Bunches’ hazy, lusty thoughts and suddenly he’s really there and fully aware, wondering if it’s possible to dreamwalk into his own dream.  Marie hadn’t mentioned anything about that but he’d been in a hurry that day.

Bunches’ hazy thoughts are still whispering in Vince’s head as Parsley begins to grind their hips together.  Vince’s heart is racing because he is suddenly sure this really happened.  He and Howard, or at least Parsley and Bunches made love.  Yes, there were a bunch of creepy Yetis watching, not to mention Bollo and Naboo, but it had still been special and loving. It was strangely comforting to know Howard had lost his virginity to someone who loved him before his kidnapping, even if he didn’t remember it.

Vince moaned as Parsley moved his hips more aggressively.  The friction was nearly unbearable.  He was going to come before Parsley even got started.

And then Parsley stopped.

“Vince?”

Starry-eyed Parsley was gone and it was most definitely Howard that was literally balls deep in Vince.

“Howard?”

“What’s happening?”

“I think you’re in my dream, Howard.”

Vince was lying on his back, his white gown hitched up around his waist with Howard buried deep inside of him.  Of course, Howard wanted to talk.

“Why?” Howard asked, looking around nervously, “Why are we still sharing dreams?  Am I back there?  Vince, did I just dream I was rescued?  Please don’t lie to me, not even to make me feel better.”

Howard looks so panicky that Vince hugs him tightly.  Unlike Howard, Parsley’s body is healthy and uninjured.

The cock inside him twitches as he holds Howard.

Parsley’s body is completely healthy.

“No, Howard.  It’s a dream I’ve been having.  I don’t know if it really happened but I think maybe it did… and I’m glad,” Vince admitted.  It was silly to blush but Vince couldn’t help himself, “You’re safe with me in our hotel room.  Maybe you were having a bad dream?”

Howard’s expression darkened and his eyes began to shift nervously.

“S’okay, Howard.  I invited you, right?”

“I thought this was all just part of my, well, my going insane in that cave.  I thought it would be over when I was safe.”

Vince tried to keep his hips still but Howard was right where Vince had wanted him for so long.

“You’re safe, Howard.   I don’t know why this is happening but… can’t we just enjoy it?”

Howard looked down at where their bodies were joined before trying and failing to look Vince in the eye.

“I’ve never… Not properly.  Not for real.”

Vince grinned, “That’s why it’s perfect!  It’s just a dream ‘n’all so it don’t really count.  It’s just whatever you want it to be.”

“What do you want it to be?” Howard asked, for once not avoiding Vince’s eyes.

“You know what I want,” Vince purred, “I’ve wanted it for ages.”

Howard’s eyes widened.  Vince wasn’t sure if it was a good or bad sign, not until he kissed Howard.  As soon as their lips met, Howard began to move.  He was more awkward than the blissed out Parsley and much more desperate.  Vince gripped Howard’s shoulders, pressing his feet into the bed to meet each thrust.

“S’mazing, Howard.  So good,” Vince mumbled, “You can go faster.  Harder.”

“Does it hurt?” Howard asked.  His eyes were squeezed shut in concentration, “I’m afraid I’ll hurt you.  I don’t want to hurt you.”

“It don’t hurt.  It can be well painful but when you take your time, like you did… like Parsley did, it feels so good,” Vince lost the ability to speak when Howard changed his angle just a little and sent Vince a good two years into the future.  Howard tried a few more times to make sure Vince wasn’t uncomfortable but Vince couldn’t manage anything more than obscene moans as he held onto Howard for dear life.  When Howard’s thrusts started to getting less even (and his words less coherent and more obscene), Vince reached between their sweaty bodies to help himself along.

“Christ, Vince, you’re so…”

He would have loved to hear the rest of the sentence but he was too busy wrapping his legs around Howard’s waist to pull him in just a little deeper as his orgasm built.  It was Howard’s orgasm that sent him over the edge, the way his face contorted and his whole body stiffened but he barely made a noise.  Vince came as Howard pulsed inside of him.

xxx

That part of the male brain that sometimes does, but often does not, wake him up before he comes in his pants had utterly failed Vince.  Howard was sitting up in bed, panting and red faced.  He looked like his brain had failed as well.

“All right?” Vince asked.

Howard didn’t answer.

“I’ll get us some new jammies,” Vince offered, trying to sound casual, “Good thing they have laundry facilities at this hotel.”

For the first time since the rescue, Howard’s smile reached his eyes.  It was fleeting and Howard quickly reverted to a near blank stare but Vince had seen it and it filled him with joy.

And hope.

 

 

[nextpage title=”Chapter 18″]

Chapter 18

Vince eyed row upon row of leggings, some in colors he’d never even seen before – not even in his dreams!

And they were all buy one, get one free.

“Vince!”

Howard was screaming at him.  Howard couldn’t hate Top Shop that much.

“Vince!”

Vince tried to at least get a few pairs to the cashier before Howard dragged him out of the shop, but the floor began to move.  An Earthquake in London?

“Vince!”

He opened his eyes.  Howard was shaking him roughly by the shoulders, tears streaming down his bruised face.

“Vince?  Vince, can you hear me?” Howard wasn’t yelling any more, he was whispering as he brushed at the tangled hair covering Vince’s face.

“What’s wrong, Howard?” Vince whispered back, looking around their hotel room for the source of danger.  If it was Old Gregg, they were all done with wearing white hats.  Vince would beat the funky merman to death with a shoe if he had to.  He was tired of being scared.

Howard was holding him tightly, his lips pressed to Vince’s neck.  Normally, Vince had a pretty good idea what to do when he was locked in a passionate embrace in someone’s bed.  There was nothing normal about this.

“Are… are you… okay?” Vince asked, hesitantly.  It was the cave all over again.  Howard was there but he wasn’t there.  He wasn’t Howard.

“Tell me you’re okay, tell me he didn’t hurt you,” Howard pleaded between kisses to Vince’s neck, “please, Vince, promise you’re all right and this isn’t the part that’s a dream.”

Vince gently stroked Howard’s hair, reminding himself that nearly every inch of Howard was injured, “I’m fine, Howard.  Did you have a bad dream?”

They had left the bathroom light on and the door open, so Vince could clearly see Howard scrambling back to his side of the bed, shaking his head.

“Howard?”  He was afraid to even move towards his friend without permission.  Howard had always needed more space than Vince.

“Vince…  It was just a dream.  I’m fine.  Go back to sleep, I didn’t mean to wake you… I was confused.”  Howard’s voice was shaking and so were his hands.

“S’all right,  Howard.  I wish…  Tell me about it, it might help.”

Howard stared at his hands and shook his head.

“Was it… was it about my neck?”

Howard’s shaky hands moved to his head and Howard was silently sobbing, the tension in his hands showing how hard he was trying to hold himself together.

“I’m fine.  No one hurt me, see?  I’m fine.”  Vince didn’t know what to do with his hands.  He wanted to hold Howard so much.

Howard angrily wiped at the tears on his face, “It was just a stupid dream.  I’m fine.  You need some rest…”

Vince lost his resolve to not touch Howard without permission, but tried to keep his touch as non-threatening as possible.  He kissed Howard’s knee cap.

Howard’s gaze moved slowly from his knee to Vince’s face, he looked terrified.

“S’all right, everything is fine.  I’m here now.  I’m sorry I didn’t help you in your dream…”

“You were…  Old Gregg…” Howard took a deep breath and started again, “Your eyes were closed and I thought you were asleep, but your neck…  There was so much blood.”

“Oh, Howard.  The Star Turtle and Sally are lookin’ out for us.  Nothin’s gonna hurt you anymore.  If anyone tried, they’d have to go through me…”

“No!” Howard yelled before composing himself, “No, Vince.  Promise me that if they come back, you’ll take care of yourself, yeah?  Believe me, Little Man, I’d go back with them in a heartbeat rather than see you…”

Vince thought of all the horrible words that might end that sentence.

“Tell me how to make you feel safe,” Vince suggested, squeezing Howard’s big toe, “I don’t want to do anything, you know, that’ll make it worse.  I just want to take care of you.”

Howard’s face was hidden by his hair but his hands were still shaking.

“I love you, Howard.  I want to help but I don’t know what to do,” Vince admitted.  He considered calling Sally.  She knew everything.

Howard slowly eased himself down until he was lying on the bed, facing Vince.  Vince imitated him so they were face to face but not touching.

Howard’s eyes were squeezed closed as he admitted, “I’m not sure.  I’m not good at this sort of thing.”

“Things like… knowing what will make you feel safe?” Vince asked, expecting Howard to correct him but Howard nodded his head.

“I never sucked my thumb or had a teddy.  Mum said I never took to stuffed animals or lovies or rubber comforters.  Babies are meant to learn to self-sooth…”

Vince had had an army of stuffed creatures to protect him from the monsters under his bed and a blanket that doubled as a magic force field.

When Vince brushed the hair from Howard’s face, Howard’s eyes shot open and scanned Vince’s face, nervously.

Touching wasn’t soothing to Howard, it never had been.

“Do you know what it means, to miss New Orleans?  When that’s where you left your heart…” Vince sang softly, relishing the smile that came to Howard’s lips.

“Jazz?”

“Pioneering pop music.  Louis Armstrong was the Bowie of his time,” Vince corrected, trying to look serious before continuing, “I know I’m not wrong, the feelings getting stronger, the longer I stay away.  Miss them moss covered vines, the tall sugar pines, where mocking birds used to sing…”

Howard closed his eyes and slept.  It took Vince longer to relax.  He compromised between his need to hold his Howard and Howard’s need for personal space.  He held Howard’s hand, running his thumb over Howard’s knuckles until he was able to sleep himself.

xxx

It takes a lot to get kicked out of Brazil during Carnival.  Naboo was almost proud.  He turned on his cell phone as the Voodoo council escorted him and Bollo to their magic carpet.

“Puritans!” he yelled as they took off for London.  There were dozens of messages from Vince.

“Hey, Naboolio!  Just a small thing.  I think Howard’s been kidnapped.  Call me!”

“Hi.  I’m pretty sure Howard was kidnapped by Old Gregg.  Wish you were here.”

“Naboo?  I know you are on vacation but…”  The rest of the message was undecipherable as Vince began to cry.  Some of the messages were nothing but Vince sobbing.

They changed course to America.

xxx

They didn’t have much luggage, so Bollo could carry it easily.  He didn’t even need his inhaler.  They knew from Vince’s messages that Howard was rescued but injured and refusing medical treatment.  Naboo had dropped by “Shame’n’Shop”, a store in the French Quarter carrying magic potions and sex toys.

Standing at the door, Bollo was confused by what he was smelling.  He could smell fear, shame, pain, semen, Root Booster shampoo, and turtle.

Vince yanked the door open before throwing himself at Naboo and Bollo for a group hug.

“You came!  Genius!”

Vince and Howard were in matching pajama tops with mismatched bottoms and only one bed was rumpled.  Howard was sitting up in bed, the blankets pulled up to his chin and his hair hiding his face.  His smell was all wrong and put Bollo on edge, more so than usual.  Naboo said Howard was agitating because he was perpetually conflicted and hard to read.  That and he was a ball bag.

Naboo was already walking towards Howard, moving slowly and cautiously.

“Howard?” Naboo said quietly.

Howard lifted his head.  His face was swollen and bruised.  Bollo wasn’t happy to know the smell of Vince and Howard’s semen, but they shared a bathroom.  A familiar always knew more than he needed to, it was part of living on a higher life plane.  He couldn’t imagine a scenario that would lead gentle Vince to exchange bodily fluids with Howard in his current state.

“Naboo,  Bollo… how was Brazil?” Howard asked in a strangled voice.  His weak attempt at friendliness gave Bollo a bad feeling.  He couldn’t quite place what was wrong but something was wrong with Howard.

“Howard, I need you to listen carefully,” Naboo continued quietly.  When Howard leaned slightly towards Naboo, he ended up with a face full of Euphorika – a powder that made humans euphoric and worked as a tasty dry rub for most game meats.

Howard giggled and collapsed back on the bed.

“Ow,” Howard laughed, “That really hurt!  I think I might have a broken rib.”

Naboo wasted no time, he was already rubbing a balm into Howard’s swollen cheek.

“What’re ya doin’?” Vince asked, smelling nervous.

“He won’t let me help him without some convincing.  He’ll be more agreeable now,” Naboo explained, “but it won’t last long.”

Vince jumped on the bed and took Howard’s hand, “Naboo is going to help you, Howard, and I’m going to be here the whole time.  Don’t be scared.”

“Why would I be afraid of Naboo?” Howard asked, “He’s adorable!  I want to pick him up and stick him in my pocket.”

Bollo watched with horror as Howard rubbed Naboo’s turban before turning back to Vince.

“My, god, you are so beautiful.  Every time I think maybe you and me…” Howard trailed off into giggles, “What are you doing, Naboo?”

Bollo could usually read his Shaman like a Charlie book but at the moment, he was truly an enigma.

“There’s bacteria in your wounds, you’re dehydrated, you’re anemic, you’ve got two fractured ribs…”

Howard giggled through Naboo’s litany of illnesses, “Bacteria?  Of course, I’m filled with diseases!  You do know what I’ve been doing?  I’ve been…”

Vince was actually covering Howard’s mouth with his hands, begging him to stop talking.

Bollo pulled Vince into his lap, grooming the human as though that would remove the unpleasant smell of fear and anxiety from his body.  Bollo did not understand the violence of the human world – the motivations were too strange and convoluted for him to grasp (though being intoxicated helped).  What he knew is someone wanted Howard’s companionship – strange – and tried to make Howard give up his bond with Vince – impossible – so now Howard was sick.

Naboo, very quietly, asked Howard to turn over.  This elicited an hysterical laugh from Howard and sent Vince jumping out of Bollo’s lap and on to the bed.

“S’okay, Howard.  Naboo is going to fix you up, quick smart…”

“And then I’ll be fine,” Howard giggled, ”right, Vince?  A few potions and I’ll be right as rain.  Normal, healthy, happy Howard.”

Vince was still trying to shush the larger man, clearly upset, though Bollo didn’t understand why.  Howard seemed to be taking things well.

Howard kissed Vince’s palms, even now he was easily stronger than his smaller companion, “It’s all right, Vince.  You know you’ll be better off without me, Little Man.  You’ll be happier.”

“Naboo is making you better, you aren’t going anywhere.” Vince was trying not to cry but Howard was chuckling.

“Oh, Vince, you’re such a little ball of sunshine, even when you’re crying.  There are things that can’t be fixed, yeah?  But you don’t need to be sad, it’ll all be fine in the end.  You’ve got Naboo and Bollo, all your friends – now you have Sally.  Just trust me, Vince, you’ll be better off. I saved all the money Bryan ever sent, so you needn’t be worried…”

“If you go away, I will never be happy again, Howard.  There will be nothing and no one that can make me smile again if you’re gone,” Vince said in a surprisingly firm tone.  Howard was smiling and shaking his head, but he was listening.  Naboo was working quickly, faster than Bollo had ever seen, while still carefully observing the interaction between the humans.

Bollo wasn’t good with metaphors but he thought he understood why Naboo used the Euphorika instead of just knocking Howard unconscious with Thoughtsbegone (which was considerably cheaper and also tasted good on a nice piece of fish).  Naboo said the poison had to come out of Howard or he’d never heal.

 

 

[nextpage title=”Chapter 19″]

Chapter 19

Howard hadn’t been touched there very often.  The occasional doctor, the one time Tommy had tried…

Howard giggled at the memory.  Tiny Tommy doing his best to get something started with his mentee.  He’d assumed the teenaged Howard knew something of the world.  What a laugh.

Eleanor had tried.

Howard giggled again.  Eleanor had been his big chance, he could have finally lost his virginity to someone, but he’d passed.  He’d been holding out hope that Vince was still interested, despite all his jokes about Howard’s crow’s feet, thin hair and dress sense.  He thought his first time could still be special and not humiliating.

Howard laughed so hard, his ribs hurt.

Poor Naboo was trying to help with his potions, trying to remove the poison in Howard.

“Try to relax, Howard.  This cream’s got unicorn tears and some powered eye of newt.  It’s powerful but it needs to be applied topically.” Naboo said, his fingers slow and gentle but unable to make progress.  Relaxing had never been Howard’s strong suit.  He’d been able to relax for Old Gregg though.

His laughter only makes it worse, he can’t stop tensing his body at the intrusion.

“Vince, maybe he can relax for you.  I thought the Euphorika would be enough.”

It takes him a moment to decipher the words.

Of course, Vince would try, because Vince needed ANOTHER reason to be disgusted at the sight of Howard.

“I’m not disgusted…  Howard, there’s nothin’ ‘bout you that’s disgustin’.  Nothin’.”

Vince’s voice was firm and Howard tried to wrap his mind around the words, there was something wrong with the statement.

Vince’s fingers seemed to meet no resistance.  Why should they?  Who would refuse the beautiful Vince Noir?

“You’ve been resistin’ me for years, Howard,” Vince countered with a weak laugh.

“Am I talking out loud?”

“I guess.  I mean, you just said somethin’ out loud then,” Vince sounded confused.  His fingers moved easily inside of Howard, there was no pain or discomfort.  Everything about Vince was perfect.

“I ain’t perfect, Howard.”

Howard couldn’t disagree because Naboo was shoving something under his tongue, “The Euphorika is wearing off.  Hold you mouth shut until the leaves dissolve.  It’s a long lasting pain reliever.  It’s what I gave Lester Corncake when he got beheaded.”

It finally occurred to Howard that Vince wasn’t a psychic, he was simply responding to the things Howard was saying out loud.

Fuck.  What had he been saying?

“Calm down, Howard,” Vince purred, stroking Howard’s sorry excuse for hair, “Stay relaxed so I can get my fingers out without hurtin’ ya.”

Vince was careful as he pulled Howard’s clothes back in place.  Shame was working its way back into Howard’s brain, killing the laughter that had been bubbling in his chest.  Vince tucked blankets around him, creating a little cocoon for Howard.  Tears were coming and all Howard could do was bury his face in his pillow, wishing Naboo and Bollo would leave.  He couldn’t face them, people who barely liked him knowing what he had done, seeing him so weak and useless.  At least Vince cared.

“I can’t fix everyfing,” Naboo explained, “but you should feel better.  There’s nothin’ left that’s gonna kill ya.”

Howard could feel his face going red before Naboo whispered, “So stop finkin’ that way.  You can’t leave Vince.  You wanna hear the voice mails he left me while you was missin’?  What you do to yerself, you’ll being doin’ to him.”

“Thanks for your help, Naboo.  I… I do appreciate it.  I feel much better,” Howard said, clearing his throat several times.  He did feel better, physically.

“Now take this,” Naboo ordered, shoving a capsule in Howard’s mouth.  It dissolved almost instantly.

“What was that?” he asked, moving his jaw back and forth.  His tongue felt funny.

“It’s a mild euphoria inducing drug.”

“Are there more… treatments you need to do?” Howard asked, his chest clenching at the idea.

“No, but it’ll make this less disturbing.”

Howard was about to ask what Naboo meant when he was dragged into Bollo’s lap for a thorough grooming.

xxx

Howard wasn’t alone, someone was pressed up against him, an erection pressed into his lower back.  His sick feeling turned to joy when he opened his eyes and saw the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen – hideous hotel wallpaper.

There were only a few aches and pains as he moved to look at the person holding him.  He saw Vince’s sleepy smile, easily replacing the wallpaper as the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen.

Vince blinked a few times and then looked alarmed, “Sorry, Howard!” he cried as he disentangled himself from Howard.

“I don’t mind, Little Man,” Howard said honestly, “not as long as it’s you.”

Vince tried to run his fingers through his tangled hair, “I must look a fright.”

“You look beautiful,” Howard said without thinking, immediately regretting the words as Vince went red and began fussing with his hair in earnest.  Vince didn’t belong in all this ugliness.  “I mean, you look fine.  What time is it?  And day?  Month, while we’re at it?”

Vince grinned from ear to ear, “It’s Mardi Gras!  It’s the day to go crazy, flash your tits for some beads…”

Vince suddenly looked serious.

“What’s wrong, Little Man?”

Vince fluffed his hair until his face was nearly hidden, “It’s just…  I had this plan that I was gonna tell you, you know, that I fancied you… that I loved you on Mardi Gras.  I thought it might be symbolic and all that.”

Howard wanted to deny it, accuse Vince of lying, of trying to make Howard feel better.   It took all his self-control to just keep his mouth shut.  Vince didn’t need his neuroses, he’d been through enough.

“I should have just told you on New Year’s Eve,” Vince was tugging at his sleeves, “I thought I needed to prove myself to you.  If I’d…”

Vince looked miserable and it was a physical pain to Howard to see Vince unhappy.

“It was my fault, Vince, I didn’t know how to respond…”

“Please tell the truth, Howard,” Vince pleaded, his eyes locked on Howard’s, “If I’d said something the night they took you, if I’d said I fancied you and didn’t want you to sleep with that girl… would you have stayed with me?”

Howard chose his words carefully, he tried to meet Vince’s eyes but it was a struggle.

“Of course, I would have stayed with you.  I… care about you.  A great deal.  I wouldn’t have gone with the Hitcher then but he still would have found me.  That wasn’t your fault, Vince. Don’t even think like that.  They wouldn’t have given up.  What matters is you found me, yeah?  Thank you, Vince, for not giving up on me.”

Vince gave a weak smile, “I’d never give up on you.  It was hard, not havin’ Naboo around.  If I hadn’t found Sally… I can’t think about that.”

Howard put his hand on Vince’s shoulder.  Vince nuzzled his cheek against Howard’s hand like a cat.

“Bryan Ferry, Lil’ Wayne, Slash, the Star Turtle and Marie Laveau all jumped in to help you, Vince. Your charm has kept me alive for nearly two decades,” Howard teased, wishing he were better at being comforting.

Vince gave a half-hearted smile, “I just wish I were smarter.  I wish I had been able to figure things out faster.  I couldn’t even see the entrance to the cave until the Star Turtle told me to look…”

Howard pulled Vince into an awkward hug.  Vince sighed happily and snuggled into Howard’s chest as Howard tried to sort out where to put his arms.  Hugging was just one of the many things that seemed to come natural to everyone but Howard.

“It’s like I’ve told you since you were a little muppet, you are clever.  Your brain just works a little differently than most,” Howard explained.

He’d hated tutoring before Vince.  He resented all those normal homes and caring parents – the bratty little children who couldn’t be bothered to crack a book and make an effort.  The Noirs should have been the worst.  They were all so damned happy and loving and their house was so cozy and inviting.  It had all annoyed Howard until he’d seen the fear in little Vince’s eyes as he opened his textbook.  There was suddenly a hint of panic in his over-sized peepers and a touch of desperation in his childish jokes.  Howard had gained (if not truly earned) a lifetime of respect from Vince for identifying his dyslexia.  If Howard had a true gift, it was the ability to see misery, and it had been the pain in Vince’s eyes that told him something was wrong while the rest of the world only saw a hyperactive child with too much imagination.

“So… you think my brain works?” Vince teased. “You can’t take it back.”

“You may only have the one brain cell, but it is remarkable.”

“Cheers, Howard.”

Howard gently worked his fingers through the tangles in Vince’s hair, feeling more at ease with a task to perform.  Vince was nearly purring.

“It’s Mardi Gras, we’re in the Big Easy…  what should we do?”  Howard asked.  The idea of leaving his hotel room was a touch… terrifying, but he wanted to do something normal.  Something that would take the anxiety out of Vince’s eyes.

“Sally has reservations at the Court of Two Sisters for the jazz brunch.  She booked a year in advance but two people dropped out…”

Howard had to laugh at Vince’s perpetual good luck, “That sounds… genius.”

“We need to shower, though,” Vince said with a laugh, “We smell like monkey and cheap cologne.”

“It’s not that cheap,” Howard said with feigned irritation. “It cost more than I planned on spending on Bollo for Christmas.”

“Do you…  I won’t try anything on, I just don’t want to be away from you.”

xxx

The second shower was more relaxed and playful than the first.  Howard felt a stirring as he detangled Vince’s hair that made him uncomfortable but also filled him with relief.  Vince was careful to give him his space and the obvious effort tore at Howard’s heart but he had to admit, he needed the space.  He hoped there would come a day when he wouldn’t.

He was feeling almost normal as he climbed out of the shower and wrapped himself in a towel, but then he felt Vince’s eyes on him and he felt self-conscious.

“It’s rude to stare,” Howard said with false gruffness.

Vince bit his lip and looked at his feet.

“I’m teasing, Little Man.  What’s wrong?”

“It’s just… I’m not good with words,” Vince blushed as he spoke, “You…  I just think you’re beautiful is all.  Now help me pick out some clothes.”

Vince bounded away like a rabbit being chased by a hound and Howard was left alone with Vince’s words echoing in his brain.

 

[nextpage title=”Chapter 20″]

Chapter 20

Howard was surprisingly amiable.  Vince expected his traumatized friend to want to stay in the hotel or maybe try and find and earlier flight home; but instead, Howard said he was looking forward to the Court of Two Sisters and even went on (and on) about what he had read in the guide book.  All Vince needed to know was they served mimosas and had a dessert table.  There would be jazz, but with enough champagne and sugar, Vince could just pretend he was in an elevator.

He would have done whatever Howard wanted to do, of course.  Every time he looked at the Northerner, he felt almost dizzy with relief.  Their night had been interrupted with dreams, nightmares and flatmates, but for the first time in days, Vince had been happy to face a new day.  He fought the urge to hug Howard at every turn and focused on picking out a proper Mardi Gras outfit.  He settled on a sequined gold top with black leggings and gold boots.  Howard had applauded his restraint, but in reality, Vince was planning on acquiring accessories throughout the day.  Sally said there would be plenty of parades and, of course, there would be Bourbon Street.

Howard was wearing a few too many clothes for Mardi Gras, but Vince wasn’t about to say a word.  He was glad that Howard was interested in the Mardi Gras celebration.  He’d been so excited before things went wrong.  Naturally, Howard was excited about all the wrong things like history and second lines, but that would all be woven in with the bright colors and alcopops.  As long as Howard was still interested in jazz and other things that people liked before television was invented, he had to be doing all right.

Vince would never claim to be intelligent but he could earn an advanced degree in Howard.  He didn’t hear what Naboo said to Howard, but he’d seen the guilty look on his friend’s face.  If Howard was going anywhere, he was going to have to go through Vince or take him along.  He wasn’t going to be alone ever again.  It was a double act or nothing.  Vince had been to monkey hell, he wasn’t afraid.

“That’s a good color on you, Howard,” Vince acknowledged, eyeing Howard’s mustard rollneck, “It brings out your eyes.”

Howard looked uncomfortable but made a joke about accessorizing with a couple of magnifying glasses to get Vince’s bush baby look.

“You laugh but the bush baby is known for its style and panache.  Imagine wearing fur all the time?  They don’t care about gettin’ a little paint thrown on them by activists.”

“There’s no such thing as politically correct in the animal kingdom,” Howard agreed.  Vince could hear the creaks and grinds in their banter that hadn’t been there since… well, they had been there after Howard returned from Denmark.  Maybe they had been there before Denmark, after Howard’s party.

Vince didn’t want to think about that.

“Tonight is going to be genius!  You and me and Sally and some girl Sally works with paintin’ the town red…”

“Or gold,” Howard suggested, waving at Vince’s outfit.

“We could paint it an aggressive muffin,” Vince suggested, “This might one of the few places in the world that could do with being a bit more boring.”

Howard smiled wanly, “True, Little Man.”

Vince gave in and wrapped his arms around Howard, who was stiff,  but didn’t pull away.

“I’m so glad you’re back, Howard,” Vince said directly into Howard’s sweater, “I missed you so much.”

”It was only a few days,” protested Howard, “and you made lots of new friends…”

“No one else in the whole wide world is you, Howard.”

Howard detangled himself and gave Vince’s shoulder a pat, “Um, thank you, Vince.  No one else is you, as well.  Either? You know what I mean.”

Howard cast a nervous look at Vince as though he wasn’t quite sure Vince did understand.

Vince smiled and lightly kissed Howard on the cheek, “No one else is us.”

xxx

Despite the past few days, Sally still expected the laws of space and time to hold – even when it came to Vince and Howard.  She did a double take and struggled to compose herself when she saw Howard.  He was still banged up but he looked as though weeks had gone by, rather than hours.  There were only a few visible cuts and bruises, like Howard had taken a bad fall.  Sally tried to make her face neutral, but she could see Howard tense and retreat into himself.

Vince reached out like he was going to grab Howard’s arm but turned it into simply flicking some imaginary lint off of Howard’s shirt.  Vince’s touchy feely nature had made Sally uncomfortable that first night, until she realized he was not coming on to her – he was just a tactile person.  From what she understood, Howard was not a tactile person at the best of times and yet, he was hovering over Vince and not actually moving away from Vince’s animated hands.  He wore the expression of someone preparing to get a vaccination but he stood his ground.  Sally thought it was sweet.  And heartbreakingly sad.

When Kylie and Sally had booked the brunch, they both had girlfriends.  Sally had been vague in describing Howard and Vince, letting Kylie know roughly what Howard had been through minus all the Voodoo, monsters and celebrity cameos.  Kylie was a sweet person who had spent a lot of time working with Katrina survivors, so Sally knew she would be able to handle the situation better than most people.  She also knew Kylie and Vince would probably end up exchanging at least one piece of clothing before the evening was out.

“I’m so glad you guys could join us!” Kylie bubbled, after being introduced, “I’m posting pictures of us on-line and saying I’ve gone back to men!  My ex will be so pissed.”

“We can trade shirts!” Vince exclaimed, stroking the fabric of Kylie’s gold lame halter.  Howard stood back and watched Kylie and Vince fawn over one another.  Sally wanted to say something to put him at ease but nothing came to mind.  She was grateful when Kylie turned to Howard and squealed, “You’ve got a gold top, too!  Now if we can get Ms. Business Casual here to loosen up, we can have a real Mardi Gras up in here.”

Sally had worn a purple tank top with a subtle bead embroidery specifically so Kylie wouldn’t yell at her for her boring dress sense.  She frowned at her outfit as Kylie and Vince chattered on.

“I think it’s a nice top,” Howard said softly.

“I like your turtleneck,” Sally responded, “A light fabric to keep you cool but also protect against melanoma.”

xxx

Howard brightened noticeably when the band started playing.  The Court of Two Sisters was packed, as usual, and Howard had gone a bit pale at the suggestion he should go to the buffet.  Kylie announced she would get their food since Howard and Vince weren’t just white, they were English and needed to tread carefully lest they lose their accents.  Howard happily agreed and promptly downed a mimosa.

“So Naboo and Bollo are in town?” Sally asked, trying to make small talk.

Howard went red in the face but Vince grinned.

“Yeah!  It was perfect timing.  They got thrown out of Brazil by the Voodoo council for bein’ well obscene or somethin’ like that.  Naboo is a genius!”

Vince turned to Howard and placed his hand on Howard’s cheek for a moment before yanking it back like he’d been burned.  Howard drained his second glass and gave Vince an awkward pat on the shoulder.

“We’re going to meet up later for the St. Anne’s parade.  You and Kylie should come!  She is well cool,” Vince said, his face lighting up at Howard’s touch.

Sally almost asked how a gorilla would get away with walking the streets, but then realized it was an asinine question.  Maybe Kylie was right, maybe she was getting boring.

Kylie arrived with two heaping plates.

“So I got you guys a bunch of roast beef, you people like roast beef, right?” Kylie asked with exaggerated concern as she gave them their plates.  Sally was glad Kylie had heeded her advice on skipping the turtle soup. “There’s duck a l’orange, shrimp etouffee, jambalaya… I forget what the rest is but it’s all good.  Save room for dessert though.  As we say, ‘Laissez les bon temps rouler!’”

Howard pushed the food around on his plate but only ate what Vince shoved in his mouth.  Sally wondered if Vince was doing it on purpose.  He was so full of kinetic energy, it was hard to tell.  Vince was even more effervescent and charming with his Howard at his side, something Sally hadn’t considered possible.  Kylie was covering everything in hot sauce and keeping the mimosas coming.

“My mouth is on fire!” Kylie cried.

“Quit using so much hot sauce! Eat some bread,” Sally suggested, trying to be practical.  Kylie and Vince shared a look of long-suffering.  They shared a similar look when Vince was complaining of feeling ill as he ate his King cake.

“You don’t have to eat every dessert,” Howard chided.

Vince looked Howard in the eye and said, “Lazy good times rule!”

Kylie and Vince attempted a fist bump and missed.  Sally wondered if there hadn’t been a few too many mimosas for brunch.

xxx

Bollo propped Howard against a wall and ran back into the crowd to catch more beads.  Howard was grateful for the cold, hard brick at his back.  He couldn’t remember the last time he’d been so pissed.

Probably the night he’d brought Vince home in a wheelbarrow.

As though reading his mind, Vince was suddenly in his face whispering, “You know you want it, you dirty girls.  Cheeky vixens…”

Howard laughed, his heart was racing and he felt dizzy.  Some of that was the tremendous amount of alcohol he’d consumed in the past few hours.

Some of it was just Vince.

“Check out Sally and her ‘friend’ Kylie,” Vince yelled, going on tip-toe to reach Howard’s ear.  He placed one hand on Howard’s chest for balance.  “Should I remind her she doesn’t get involved with coworkers?”

Sally and Kylie were snogging in an alcove like teenagers.  Kylie’s hand was moving under Sally’s – well, Vince’s – top.  Howard turned away, embarrassed to see something so personal.  Even if it was happening on a public street in a massive crowd in the daylight.

Vince was wearing Kylie’s gold lame top and Kylie had fashioned Howard’s Hawaiian shirt into a head dress for Vince.  Sally’s head scarf was now Howard’s jaunty neckerchief.

“I think we’ve all had a bit too much,” Howard said as he closed his eyes, feeling over stimulated.

“That’s what Mardi Gras is all about!” Vince cried, his breath on Howard’s face, “Goin’ large so you can be good for the next forty days.  Or just keep goin’ large if you ain’t Catholic.  I don’t know.  Even C of E was too structured for my folks.”

Howard laughed and thought of his own parents.  They had tried on religions like hats but never found one that suited their lifestyle.

“Were you really going to say something…” Howard fished for words but none came.  His vocabulary was drenched in rum.

“What?”

“You said you wanted to say that you fancied me…”

“Oh, yeah!” Vince yelled, “I was gonna tell you durin’ a parade like this while we were kind of pissed.  Then you’d have the rest of the night to sober up and decide…”

Vince trailed off and linked his fingers with Howard’s.

Howard didn’t open his eyes and, at first, he just got a mouthful of hair but soon enough, his lips found Vince’s.

xxx

Sally was feeling indestructible.  She and Vince had decided to either have a show about fighting crime called Blanc & Noir, or they were actually just going to fight crime.  They had really been focused more on the hair and costumes than the details.

Kylie and Vince were tongue kissing for beads.  If the men realized Vince was a man, they didn’t seem to care.  They still yelled when he flashed his tits.

Howard’s face was unreadable and his eyes were glazed over.

Sally was trying to think of something reassuring to say when they both jumped at the sound of Kylie yelling.

“You need to leave that girl alone before I come over there with my girl and teach you some manners.  I’m an angry black lesbian but she’s fucking militant!”

Sally tried to stand up straight and look intimidating.

Howard whispered, “Don’t count on help from Bollo, he’s asthmatic.”

“You don’t wanna fuck with me!” Sally yelled, still not sure who she was protecting from whom.  Lots of men were looking scared.

“Yeah!” Vince added, moving into the sidekick stance they had practiced earlier – pressing his hip to her’s, “And she’s a certified muff diver!”

Sally looked down on her tee-shirt, proclaiming her certification, “Oh, hell.  How long have I been wearing this?”

xxx

Howard was drinking a glass of water and feeling paranoid.  Alcohol had ceased to have its mind-numbing effect and his thoughts were racing.  He was jammed between Vince and Bollo in the booth of a pizza shop.  There was no reason for him not to feel safe.  Even in their shambolic state, Sally and Kylie seemed pretty hard.  Bollo was off his tits and Naboo had vomited in his turban, but there was still safety in numbers.

“Howard was my tutor when I was little so I’ve fancied him since I was old enough to fancy people…”

“I love that word!  Fancy,” Kylie sighed, “It sounds so… fancy.”

Vince giggled and leaned into Howard, who didn’t have room to move away, even if he’d wanted to.

“When did you start to fancy Vince?” Kylie asked, her eyes warm and dark like coffee.  Howard needed coffee.

“I’d rather not talk about that…”

“C’mon, Howard!  When did you start to think of me ‘that way’?” Vince asked, his face beaming.  He was wearing Howard’s Hawaiian shirt over his borrowed Certified Muff Diver tee-shirt. The shirt was unreadable under all his beads but it still made Howard smile.  Vince was a sweaty mess from dancing and drinking, his make-up streaked and his hair limp and tangled.  Howard thought he looked beautiful.

Howard shook his head, “I don’t like to think about it.  You were so much younger than I.”

“I was having sex with men older than you when I was fifteen!  What’s five years?” Vince turned to Kylie and stage whispered, “I was probably the only guy in London askin’ to be called ‘Little Man’ in bed.”

Kylie laughed appreciatively while Sally wore a cartoonish look of surprise.   Howard could tell by the back of Vince’s head that his flat mate was wearing a similar expression.  Vince always froze when he was embarrassed.

Howard wasn’t sure how he felt about the piece of information.  On one hand, it was a terrible defilement of an innocent pet name.  On the other hand, Vince had been thinking about Howard.  He desperately wanted coffee to help focus his thoughts, but settled for a swig of Bollo’s energy drink.  It tasted like monkey breath and Bollo hadn’t even taken a drink yet.

When he turned back to Vince, they bumped heads.  Vince’s eyes were wide and worried looking.  Howard stroked Vince’s sweaty, tangled hair, “What’s wrong, Little Man?”

Howard blushed when Kylie giggled.  Vince nuzzled his face into Howard’s shoulder. “Don’t change your mind about me.”

Howard held the younger man tight. “That will never happen.”

“Let’s go back to the hotel,” Vince whispered.

 

 

[nextpage title=”Chapter 21″]

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…”

 

 

[nextpage title=”Chapter 22″]

Chapter 22

Vince liked watching Howard sleep, all peaceful and relaxed, but he couldn’t fight off sleep for long.

Vince was having his hair put into box braids by a marmoset under the watchful eye of Kylie (who was wearing Vince’s Zooniverse jacket) when he suddenly wondered where Howard had gone.

“Sally, where’s Howard?” he asked.

Kylie politely turned into Sally, “I haven’t seen him. You should find him. He is porcelain.”

“What does that mean?” Vince asked, putting the marmoset into his pocket.

“I have no idea,” Sally responded, “But you should find Howard.”

“Howard?” Vince called. There was no response. Vince picked up a microphone made of diamonds and again yelled, “Howard!”

His voiced echoed and splintered, reverberating through the universe until he heard a soft but irritable, “What?”

Sally/Kylie disapeared and Vince was in Old Gregg’s cave. Howard was naked and huddled up on his stack of mattresses. Old Gregg’s love for Howard was all there in Howard’s nest: a group of disgustin- looking mattresses, lovingly collected and covered with linens that seemed to have been stolen from a whorehouse. Poor Howard was like one of those tiny dogs stuffed in a purse. Whatever love was there, it had gone wrong.

Vince crawled onto the creaky pile of mattresses and wrapped himself around Howard’s back.

“Oh, Howard. Why are you here? It’s a dream, you could be anywhere.”

Howard clutched at the hand Vince placed on Howard’s chest.

“You shouldn’t be here, Vince,” Howard’s voice sounded tired, “You don’t belong here. This is my ring in Dante’s Inferno.”

“That is a great club! I have never been able to get past the third ring. You need a celebrity to get into them rings.”

The joke earned Vince a kiss on the hand.

Vince looked around the cave and noticed there were new watercolors, ones that Gregg couldn’t have drawn, but are still in his style. There was Howard with his eyes squeezed shut as Eleanor tries to kiss him on the mouth and trying to put his hand… well, where Howard would have known for sure if she was a woman or a man. Assorted disturbing images involving Lester Corncrake clearly taking advantage of Howard’s complete inability to work his way out of an awkward situation. Every time Vince told Howard he thought Lester was faking his blindness, Howard scolded him for being unkind and then grilled him on why he thought Lester was faking. Howard had to know, and yet he must get something from his time with Lester. Vince knew he couldn’t be objective, he resented sharing Howard’s attention with anyone. The idea that creepy Lester had something to offer that Vince couldn’t… well, it was Milky Joe all over again.

The most upsetting were a series of images of a scrawny, teenaged Howard and his beloved mentor, Tommy. The first was of Howard in the keeper hut, hair wet with a towel wrapped around his waist, catching sight of Tommy coming up behind him in the bathroom mirror as he brushed his teeth. The painting changed, showing Tommy pushing the towel out of the way and groping at Howard who simply stood still with his eyes shut. He reminded Vince of a little kid, covering his eyes and declaring, “You can’t see me!” The fact he was twice Tommy’s size made it all the sadder. Tommy would have had a hard time forcing Howard into anything, but it was nothing to take advantage of Howard’s hero-worship. Subsequent encounters got more explicit, but none of them were quite as heartbreaking as the first betrayal of trust.

“Grating was too good for him,” Vince growled into Howard’s ear.

“He was a good man, he taught me everything I know…”

“He took advantage of you, Howard. He knew you weren’t interested…”

“I told him I… had problems in that area. It wasn’t his fault I couldn’t get excited,” Howard explained, staring sadly at his younger self, “I wanted to be more for him.”

“You can’t make yourself be attracted to someone, you didn’t owe it to Tommy to like him getting all freaky with you. Who wouldn’t be put off by that big head? An’ he’s makin’ a move like he’s some kind of ninja, sneakin’ up on ya an’ everything. That is well creepy.”

Vince was rewarded with another kiss on the hand but Howard looked no less sad or wistful. In Howard’s mind, it was still somehow his own fault that his hero made a habit of having a wank on Howard’s leg. It was scary to realize how stubbornly Howard was clinging to his self-loathing. For someone always seeking reassurance, Howard was terrible at accepting it.

“He should have left you alone when he saw you weren’t interested, he must have known you were just being nice…” Vince suddenly couldn’t breathe. An icy hand squeezed his heart and drew tears.

“No, Vince,” Howard said forcefully, “it’s not like that with you.”

Vince tried to fight off the cold feeling in his chest, Howard had been excited. He just wasn’t ready…

The fist tightened.

“Vince, it’s this place. It’s making you paranoid. You need to leave,” Howard insisted, using his most authoritative tone. Somehow Howard was now sitting up and Vince was flat on his back. He wondered if it was possible to faint in a dream.

“I’m not sure it’s right that I’ve been, you know, bein’ so physical with you right after…,” even as he thinks he shouldn’t be touching Howard, Vince’s hand immediately reaches out to brush Howard’s hair from his foreheard, “after all you went through…”

Howard shook his head fiercely, “No, Vince. I’ve wanted to. I’ve wanted to… t-to know that I could make it good for you, even if I’m never… well.”

Vince tried to think of a nice place to go, somewhere that he and Howard could just be happy together and not always worrying about things. He drew a blank, only able to picture Howard’s desperate pleas when he’d finally been rescued from his freaky, green captors. Howard had been so willing to be everything Vince wanted from him in exchange for kindness.

“You need to get out of here, Vince,” Howard insisted, “I don’t want you to feel this way. This isn’t meant for you.”

Suddenly Vince knew where he and Howard could be, somewhere safe and happy.

xxx

Vince opened his eyes and found Howard looking back at him, his chocolaty eyes darting about. They were back in their cozy hotel room. Vince flicked on the light beside his bed, adding to the light coming from the bathroom.

“Sorry, Howard, but that dream was rubbish. I couldn’t make it a happy dream, and it was makin’ me feel all confused. It’s better bein’ awake than bein’ there.”

Howard awkwardly brushed Vince’s hair out of his eyes, and Vince wondered if it was intentional or an accidental imitation of what Vince had done in their shared dream. Howard was trying so hard.

“You can call for me when you have those bad dreams,” Vince reminded him gently, “I think I’m gettin’ better at knowing when to come looking for you…”

“I did try but…”

“The other Vince showed up?”

Howard didn’t need to say anything, it was all over his face. Howard and his nasty Vince. How could Vince compete with someone who said everything Howard expected to hear?

“Did you chase him off or did I replace him?” Vince asked. Howard had left his hand lying between them. Vince ran his fingers over the hand, giving Howard a chance to pull back, before taking the big hand in his own.

“I chased him away. I know he’s not you.” Howard wasn’t even trying to look Vince in the eye.

“But he says the things you think you deserve to hear.”

Howard didn’t argue.

“Whad’he say?” Vince asked, as gently as he could. He didn’t expect Howard to answer, and startled a bit when Howard started talking.

“I know you would never be as hateful as he is but…” Howard took a deep breath, “if things don’t work out between us… in the physical sense, that is… I don’t expect you…”

Vince bit his lip, trying not to interupt Howard as he stammered. It wasn’t easy.

“You can be with someone else, physically, that is and, erm, romantically?, I suppose is what I mean and, well, you would still be my best mate. I would still care about you. You don’t have to settle for what I have to offer, is what I’m trying to say.”

“I know what settling feels like, Howard. I’ve been settling for second rate Howards for years. I don’t want anyone else,” Vince could see Howard was getting uncomfortable and reached out to stroke his lightly stubbled cheek. Howard tensed but Vince didn’t pull away, he just waited for Howard to relax. He was starting to get the hang of touching Howard. “I’m not sayin’ I’m not gonna snog the occasional lesbian for attention, I’m still gonna be Vince Noir, but I don’t want to get off with anyone but you. It’s always been you I wanted anyway.”

Howard looked embarrassed but chuffed at the same time.

“An’ there’s nothing to work out, physically. What we’ve done is genius and I’m not used to gettin’ lucky that often anyway. I’ll be good for a year, now,” Vince (kind of) joked. “You don’t have to do anything to make me happy. Maybe some snuggling.”

Howard kissed Vince’s hand again, causing Vince to blush. Even when he fantasized about Howard, he’d never really imagined him being romantic or demonstrative. He’d rather imagined things would be exactly the same, except they’d have sex once in a while. It wasn’t so much the sex he fantasized about (sometimes it was about the sex), it was about being with Howard forever.

“It was when you started wearing make-up,” Howard said, out of the blue.

“Am I meant to understand that?  ’Cause I don’t,” Vince said, staring at their joined hands.

“That’s when I started to think of you… that way. At least, that’s when I became aware of you as… someone who might at sometime be someone I could possibly be physically… intimate with.”

“Sometime?” Vince teased. He hadn’t been quite fifteen when he’d started playing around with eyeliner and lip gloss. The fact Howard had been a teen himself would, of course, mean nothing to Howard. Howard didn’t drink cups of hot, steaming rules, he absorbed them into his skin. There was no context or wiggle room, just rules that were meant to equal safety.

“You stayed so young for so long!” Howard exclaimed, suddenly sounding exasperated. “Even well into your twenties, you were still believing everything I said, hanging on me and following me around…”

“I just liked being with you,” Vince explained, feeling defensive and embarrassed, “and I had a crush on you since I was little…”

“That’s the trouble, innit? How can you be in a relationship with someone when you can’t see them for who they are? It wouldn’t have been right for me to…”

“Take advantage?” Vince supplied.

“Yeah,” Howard agreed, looking relieved that Vince understood.

“The way Tommy took advantage of you?”

Howard didn’t respond. Vince could never remember the proper name for the horsies in chess but he knew a check mate when he saw it.

“You were nothing like I was at that age,” Howard pointed out.

“Course not. I had you lookin’ after me and you were all alone.”

Howard was shaking his head, trying not to hear anything that might make him feel a little better about himself.

“I never stopped admiring you or looking up to you ‘cause you never let me down. Even if you were talking rubbish, I knew what your were saying was always meant to help me or protect me or make me not feel scared. Whenever I slept with some guy that reminded me of you, he would mess it up…” Vince instantly regretted mentioning other men, but he thought Howard needed to understand, “by not really carin’ ‘bout me. I knew you would worry about hurtin’ me or pushin’ me into somethin’ too quickly.”

“If I had been better at showing you how much I cared… loved you,” Howard was visibly struggling with the use of emotion words, “you wouldn’t have had to… take so many chances. Put yourself at risk.”

“You didn’t let me down by not sleepin’ with me when I was fifteen, Howard! I’m glad you didn’t, even if I had to do some stupid things along the way, ‘cause when people asked questions about us, and they were ready to jump to all kinds of sleazy conclusions and thought you only cared about me because you were getting something out of it…” Vince felt his cheeks going red, but continued, “I liked bein’ able to say you weren’t like that and you really cared about me… and I suppose the worse I acted up and you kept carin’ ‘bout me, the more it proved I was special to you. Sally helped me figure that out.”

Howard looked thoughtful. He also looked fragile and tired.

“And… we always have the yeti dream… or we can make another dream together. You an’ me never had much use for reality anyway…”

“We can try that, what we did in the dream, for real,” Howard suggested, speaking too quickly, “just in reverse, if you like… if you…”

“No way, Howard! I ain’t ready for that after everything, that’s…” Vince squeaked, panicking at the suggestion, “that’s too advanced and scary.”

“It was just an idea,” Howard snapped, letting go of Vince’s hand and rolling onto his back.

Vince felt scared by how quickly Howard changed his entire demeanor. Vince hated treading on egg shells with Howard. Cowboy boots and eggshells did not go well together. Vince considered throwing himself at Howard’s mercy, but went with a different tactic.

“You can’t feel ready for that, Howard. I know you’re pushin’ yourself to do things you think you need to be able to do to be normal but we never been normal! Normal is for borin’ people!”

Howard stared at the ceiling, his face unreadable. Vince took a deep breath and continued.

“I know you can point to a day on the calender and tell me when you should be ready for a proper shag.”

Howard frowned.

“Go on. When do you think you should be past everything that happened and be ready for what we did on the yeti bed,” Vince teased.

“I don’t have a day…”

“Liar! Tell me.”

Howard heaved a sigh, “Well, I hadn’t accounted for Naboo actually helping me so I thought there’d be a longer physical recovery…”

Vince laughed, knowing it would make the older man angry but loving the proof Howard was still Howard, “I knew it! So how long did you give yourself to feel better and not be post tramatically distressed anymore? I’ll tell you my date if you tell me yours.”

Howard raised his eyebrows, “You have a date?”

Vince shrugged, “I got an approximate amount of time you’d need to… recover before we started anything. Let’s say it together on the count of three. One, two, three!”

Vince said, “A year.”

Howard, “A month.”

“A month!” Vince squawked, “I’ve needed six months to recover from a bad haircut! You are mental, Howard.”

Howard was smiling but his eyes were sad, “I don’t expect you to wait forever for me to…”

“Perform your husbandly duty,” Vince dead-panned.

Howard chuckled but didn’t actually disagree.

“Can we just mess around for a bit?” Vince asked, shyly, “I’m not expectin’ anything. I just like snoggin’ you.”

Howard turned back on his side, facing Vince, “Can we turn off the light? Just this one…”

Vince slapped the light off and launched himself into Howard’s arms.

 

 

[nextpage title=”Chapter 23″]

Chapter 23

For a long time, they just kissed.  Vince’s lips felt pleasantly raw from Howard’s scratchy mustache.  He hoped his lips would still be swollen in the morning, a physical reminder that what was happening was real.   Maybe he could coax Howard into giving him a good old-fashioned love bite.  Vince felt like a kid again, the kid he had only briefly been before he started seeking out more adult activities.  Howard seemed to sense the moment Vince started feeling ashamed and regretful of his youthful indiscretions.

“Something wrong, Little Man?” Howard asked, gently stroking Vince’s hair back from his face.  They still hadn’t showered, but Howard didn’t seem to mind that Vince was a mess and that his hair smelled like sweat.  Vince was rather enjoying the strong, Howardy scent filling his nostrils.

“I’m just glad you’re here.  I missed you,” Vince said, managing to be completely honest and avoid the question at the same time.

Howard pressed his lips to Vince’s forehead like he was checking for a fever.

“I missed you, too.  I…” Howard winced a bit, a sure sign he was about to discuss something emotional, “I thought about you, not just during…  I thought of you all the time.”

Vince stroked Howard’s shoulders and arms, trying to be reassuring and not overly sexual.  It was a bit of a challenge, as Vince was still naked and there was no way to hide his erection with Howard lying on top of him.  Still, he had a feeling he knew what Howard was trying to say.

“I’m serious about not being worried about the sex,” Vince explained, wishing he were a bit more eloquent, “that’s not what this is about.  I just want to be close to you, make you feel loved ‘n’all.”

He felt embarrassed once the words were out of his mouth.  Everything sounded trite compared to the actual feeling in his chest.  The desire to be as physically tangled with Howard as humanly possible was pure.  The fact it turned him on was just biology.

Howard looked thoughtful as he continued to stroke Vince’s hair.

“I do.  As long as I’ve known you, you’ve made me feel like someone.”

“You are someone.”

“Someone who matters.”

“You matter.”

Howard just smiled indulgently.  Vince knew Howard didn’t really understand.  He wasn’t ready to understand, yet.

“Your mum really loves you, you know,” Vince said impulsively, “I know she messed up a lot, but she’s well proud of you.”

“I’m not sure this is the best time to discuss my mother, eh?” Howard’s tone was teasing but the distress in his face was real.  Vince had to admit Howard had a point, but he continued anyway.

“She’s intimidated by you, because you’re a proper adult and she’s more like me, a toddler in a full grown body.”

“I’ll be honest, Little Man, I don’t care for this turn in the conversation…”  Howard was wearing a strained smile, clearly fighting the urge to tell Vince to shut up.

“You know what I mean,” Vince said in a conciliatory tone, giving Howard a kiss on the shoulder, “We like loud music and soft fabrics.  That’s why she gets me such great Christmas presents!  She likes shiny things, I like shiny things…  I’m just sayin’ that I know she let you down, but not ‘cause she didn’t care ‘bout you.  Just like when I mess up and hurt you…”

Vince had been hushed by Howard many times over the years, but being kissed was definitely his favorite method of being silenced.  Once Howard seemed confident he’d shut Vince up for the moment, he kissed Vince on the nose and both of his eyes.  Vince moaned and sighed and giggled as Howard lightly kissed his face and neck.  It wasn’t easy to be patient and let Howard take the lead when all he wanted was to throw the Northerner down and snog him senseless, but Vince was giving patience a try.  Howard was always banging on about it.  Just because jazz made his neck go big didn’t mean a little patience would be a bad thing.  When Howard tried to move things along, Vince metaphorically put his foot down.

“S’not been a month yet,” Vince teased, pulling Howard’s hand back up to his waist, “you ain’t completely recovered.”

Howard frowned, but allowed himself to be rolled onto his back.  He was stiff and clearly uncomfortable, but he didn’t pull away as Vince covered his face and neck in kisses.  Howard was always looking for attention but froze up when he got any.  Vince used to think this meant Howard was mental, now he understood it was part of being complicated.

Vince sat up so he was straddling Howard’s waist.

“Would you rather I put some pants on?  This seems a bit…”

Howard ran his hand down Vince’s side, resting it on his hip and said, “Seems silly to put on clean pants until you’ve showered…”

Vince fought the urge to pull a shape or at least suck in his cheeks.  Instead he just sat still and let Howard look at him.  He was probably a mess anyway, not that Howard would notice.  Howard was never fussed about how Vince looked.  There had been only a handful of times Vince had created a look that piqued Howard’s interest.  When he’d started wearing make-up, he’d only gotten a sigh and a pair of raised eyebrows.

Except Howard said that was when he started thinking of Vince in a sexual way.  Maybe Howard wasn’t so indifferent.

Vince turned to show his best side and sucked in his cheeks a bit to show off his cheekbones.

Howard laughed and gave him a pat on his naked rear, “Enough with the shapes, you peacock.  You’ve got eyeliner on your chin.”

Vince leapt off Howard and into the bathroom.  Howard hadn’t been exaggerating.  His face looked like a Jackson Pollock painting.  He was working on his raccoon eyes when Howard walked in and turned on the shower.

“I’m a bit whiffy myself,” Howard explained, “I think we could both do with a shower.”

“I like how you smell,” Vince pointed out, causing Howard to turn beet red.  The strangest things made Howard blush, “But I’m going to need an extra pair of hands and about a gallon of conditioner to undo the snarls in my hair, so cheers, Howard.”

They continued the mutual admiration as the hot water pelted them.  Vince kissed his way down Howard’s chest. Howard was still a bit shy but Vince took his time, doing his best to keep Howard nice and relaxed.  When he worked his way down between Howard’s thighs, Howard whispered, “I might not be able to… sometimes I can’t…”

“S’not ‘bout that, Howard, it’s about makin’ you feel good,” Vince explained, kneeling down on the shower floor, “Tell me to stop when it don’t feel good anymore.   ‘Til then, just enjoy it.  I’m not expecting anything…  I just  want to… I just like kissing you is all.”

Howard stroked Vince’s hair and fussed at him.  He ran his fingers through Vince conditioner covered hair as Vince kissed his belly and the inside of his thighs.  If Howard could detangle Vince’s hair during a blowie, he’d be (hands down) the best multi-tasker in the world.  He’d be sure to get another certificate from the Mayor of Leeds.

Vince gave Howard’s erection a few gentle strokes as he continued a thorough exploration of Howard’s bits with his mouth.  He kept looking up at Howard to make sure he was all right but Howard’s face was unreadable.

“This all right?” Vince finally asked. He couldn’t take a chance on doing something Howard didn’t like and he couldn’t count on the stubborn Northerner to be honest.  Howard was always hiding his real feelings under bluster and nonsense.

Howard waved in the direction of his erection, “I know I taught you to question the nature of reality, sir, but you’re taking it to the extreme…”

“I’m taking it to the extreme… but am I really taking it to the extreme?”  Vince asked, dodging a swipe from Howard, “I’m just checkin’!  I don’t want to do anything you don’t want…”

“Little Man, there isn’t anything you could do I wouldn’t like.  That’s never going to be a problem,” Howard stroked the side of Vince’s face.  He poked Vince in the eye with his thumb because he kept looking away, but it was still sweet, “It’s all me.  Trust me, sir, none of it is you.  You’re… you’re just wonderful, I suppose is the word I’m looking for.”

Vince sat up and hugged Howard around the waist.  It was the most obscene hug of his life.  It was lovely.

“I love you, Howard, you are completely mental.  It’s so strange to say it out loud, I’ve been thinking it for so long,” Vince hid behind his hair, “that I love you, not that you’re mental.  I’ve told you that before.  I want to make everything good for you.”

“You do.  Just being you makes everything good,” Howard said in a deep voice that made the back of Vince’s neck tingle.  Vince gently kissed Howard’s erection, taking his time and enjoying the view. When he wrapped his lips around Howard’s cock, they both moaned and then they both laughed.

“This is no laughing matter, sir,” Howard scolded before chuckling again.

Vince ran his tongue along the length of Howard’s shaft, giggling as the word ‘shaft’ came into his mind. It didn’t take Howard’s face long to go from a look of smiling indulgence to clenched and nearly anguished.  Vince slowed his pace, trying to make it last.  It was such a big step for Howard.  After Howard had a few moments to collect himself, Vince started sucking him with long and slow strokes, causing Howard to turn into a mother hen, fussing over Vince like Vince had never given a blow job before.

“Slow down… You’re going to choke… Do you want to put a towel under your knees?”

Vince took Howard’s worrying (and ability to speak coherently) as a challenge.  For all his worrying, Howard was still delightfully hard.  Vince took him as deeply as he could without gagging, using both hands to stroke Howard everywhere his lips couldn’t reach.

“Oh, dear,” Howard whispered, charmingly old-fashioned in his sex talk, “I think I’m nearly there.”

Vince moaned, letting the vibrations of his throat finish Howard off.  His mouth filled with a rush of warmth as Howard clutched at his hair and swore under his breath.  Vince waited until Howard was looking at him to swallow and lick his lips.  It was a bit of a porn star move but Vince didn’t want to leave any doubt that he was happy about what had just happened.

Howard began trembling and slid down the side of the shower wall until he was on the floor.  It was entirely too reminiscent of Howard’s earlier breakdown.  Vince wrapped his arms around his friend and held him tight, murmuring into his ear, “S’all right, Howard.   Everything is fine.  You’re safe, I love you, Naboo and Bollo are right down the hall…”

Howard wrapped his arms around Vince in a crushing hug, “You’re so far away.”

Despite the hot water splashing them, Howard’s skin felt cold and he was shaking.

“What’s wrong, Howard?” Vince asked, panic rising in his stomach, causing his voice to get squeaky, “I’m sorry, Howard.  I was just trying to be loving to you…”

“I’m fine, I’m fine, I’m fine…”

“Fine people don’t have to say it that much, I’m gonna get Naboo.  He’ll know what to do.”

Vince tried to stand up but Howard had him pinned to his chest in a death grip.

“I’m just… a bit cold…”

“Let’s get you into bed and all covered up,” Vince suggested, “We can cuddle an’ everything.  C’mon, Howard, let me go so I can stand up.”

Howard slowly loosened his grip.  It was a challenge for Vince to pull Howard to his feet, the big man had gone all limp.  He gave Howard a quick dry with a towel before tucking him into the unused bed.  Howard was shaking and pale but insisting he was fine.  Vince quickly toweled off before jumping in bed with Howard, holding him tightly as he called Naboo on his cell phone.

“All right, Naboo?  Sorry, were you sleepin’?  Just a little thing, Howard’s gone all cold and shaky so maybe you could pop over…?”

Naboo sighed heavily, “Let me guess, you’ve been shagging.”

Vince was too guilt stricken to answer.

“I’ll be right there.”

Vince hated to leave Howard even long enough to open the locks on the door.  Naboo and Bollo entered with a waft of smoke.

“You could have put on some pants,” Naboo said, dryly.  Vince looked down at his naked body and scampered back to the bed where Howard was still shaking like hairless dog in a light breeze.  Vince wrapped himself around Howard’s back, trying to share his body heat.

Naboo turned on the lights and took a good look at Howard’s eyes before touching his forehead and checking his pulse.

“You’re in shock, Howard,” Naboo spoke in an unusually loud voice, “It’s just a post-orgasmic chemical dump, nothing to be worried about.  Vince’ll get you warmed up, unless you want a snuggle with Bollo…”

“I’m fine!” Howard snapped before continuing in a more gentle tone, “No offense, Bollo, but I just showered.”

“Howard smells like fruit cocktail, could use more manly scent,” Bollo observed.

Naboo grabbed an extra blanket from the closet and threw it on top of Howard and Vince.

“Just keep sharing body heat, Howard will be fine.  Me’n’Bollo are goin’ back out, enjoy the festivities.”

“Bollo feeling lucky.”

“Might happen again,” Naboo warned, “Might not.  Stress reaction ‘n’all.  Call me if you need me, but put some pants on next time.  This is disgustin’ enough as it is.”

Vince held Howard protectively, “Since where are you homophobic?”

“I don’t mind two guys gettin’ it on, but the two of you?”  Naboo and Bollo made disgusted faces.

“What’s wrong with me’n’Howard?” Vince asked, feeling more exposed than when he’d been running around naked.

“I’m comin’ atcha, Vince, like a beam, like a ray, yessir, I’m going to make love to your skinny, boney body like a kestrel,” Naboo mimicked in a terrible Northern accent while Bollo pulled shapes and primped his hair.

“We ain’t like that!” Vince yelled, unable to keep a straight face.

“Better the two of you shag than just giving each other gooey eyes all day,” Naboo conceded, “We’re off to find sexual partners who ain’t got the mentality of a twelve-year-old.”

Vince stuck his tongue out at Naboo, belatedly realizing he wasn’t helping his case.

Before leaving,  Naboo leaned down and whispered into Howard’s ear.  Vince tried not to listen but he was only a few inches away, trying to warm Howard up.

“You’re gonna be fine, Howard.  It’ll take time, but Vince ain’t going anywhere and neither are me’n’Bollo.  S’okay to relax.”

Howard’s whispered thanks broke Vince’s heart.  Of all the strange things that had happened in the past week, seeing Naboo and Bollo nearly doting on Howard was by far the strangest.  Monsters, celebrities and daring rescues weren’t all that unusual, but the four of them usually stuck to their same dynamic.  The change was a little frightening, but also nice.  It took people a while to warm up to Howard because he was so prickly, like a porcupine.  And like a porcupine, Howard never meant to use his prickliness to be lonely, he was just trying to protect himself from danger.  The porcupine at the zoo, Pork Pie, had been well friendly and always up for a careful cuddle but most people never got to find that out.

As soon as the door shut behind their eccentric flat mates, Howard and Vince said, “I’m sorry,” in unison and followed it up with, “The old double-act magic.”  Even Howard had to laugh.

 

 

[nextpage title=”Chapter 24″]

Chapter 24

Howard didn’t have words capable of describing how he felt. He wasn’t sure those words even existed. He would need to create some new words in order to describe how he felt with Vince’s mouth wrapped around him.

“Maybe I’m too good,” Vince observed, stopping his ministrations and shocking Howard out of his reverie, “you lost it a bit…”

Vince looked up at Howard through his black fringe, biting his lip in an innocent and yet totally obscene manner.

“That wasn’t your fault, I don’t know why that happened,” Howard assured the younger man, “but it wasn’t anything you did.”

When Howard stroked his hair, Vince pressed into his hand like a cat.

“I’ve had a lot of practice,” Vince said in a teasing voice, “God knows I’ve blown enough weirdos with mustaches!”

Something tugged at the corner of Howard’s mind, but his immediate concern was reassuring Vince that he hadn’t done anything wrong.

“I don’t want you to think you did anything wrong or that you’ve anything to apologize for, Little Man. You’ve been wonderful. What you did… was wonderful.”

“Then why did you fall apart?” Vince asked, his big, guileless, blue eyes staring up at Howard, “Why did coming in my mouth nearly give you a heart attack?”

The black hair.  It wasn’t real.

“Go away.” Howard meant it to be an order but instead it was a whimpered plea.

Vince licked his lips and stroked Howard’s cock. “Are you sure that’s what you want? You wouldn’t rather have me sucking you off? We can do other things…”

“Go away!” Howard whispered, “I can’t have you setting me back again.”

“Why not?” dark Vince asked, his eyes deceptively innocent.  “It’s not like I’ll ever give up on you. I’ll be by your side, no matter what. No matter how bad things get, I’ll never leave you alone.”

Howard tried to will himself awake, but he was too tired. He’d been through too much…

“An amazing blowie and a mental breakdown? That’ll wear you out. Why don’t you just relax and let me take care of you?”

“You are not Vince,” Howard whispered, squeezing his eyes shut, “You are nothing but an embodiment of my own fears and I can’t handle you right now.”

“But don’t you have a good reason to be afraid?” dark Vince said in his deceptively sweet tone, “I tried to make love to you and you nearly died.”

“That isn’t what happened… Naboo said it was a chemical thing… It might not happen again.”

Dark Vince didn’t need to state the obvious, it was all Howard could think about. The sheer enormity of the thought was overwhelming.

“It’s fine, Howard, really. I’ve spent all these years patiently waiting for you to give me a chance, what’s a few more years? It’s not like I have any choice in the matter,” was dark Vince’s falsely pleasant reply, “I can’t leave you now. You’re a fucking basket case! I’ll be here to hold you at night when you cry like a baby and I won’t think less of you for trading sex to protect yourself. It isn’t like I wanted to see you hurt, I just wanted you to show a little spine. Despite everything, I still thought you would have too much self-respect to let a sexually confused merman fuck you, but I know you didn’t have a choice. You weren’t strong enough to fight back, or even to say no.”

Howard threw his head back and yelled, “Vince!”

He couldn’t fall apart again. It wasn’t fair to Vince. Vince was being so kind and patient.  And loving.

“Bit late to try and protect me, don’t’cha think?” dark Vince giggled, “You know what this is really about. You’re afraid you won’t get another blowie if you keep having panic attacks. That’s what you really care about, what you can get from me. Now you’ve really got me trapped. You don’t even have to hold me down, I’ll just do whatever you want.”

“Vince!”

“He can’t hear you right now, you’ll have to make do with me.” Dark Vince bit his lip, coyly. “I can think of a few ways to keep you happy until you wake up…”

He couldn’t give in to the panic. He couldn’t scare Vince again, and Vince would know…

“He’ll know you were dreaming about fucking me, because I’m the one you really want. You can be rough with me, Howard. Go ahead and show me what you really want to do to your little friend.”

“Vince!”

Howard found himself standing in nothingness, looking at himself and Vince in the shower as though it were a movie set. The role of Howard was being played by someone taller and better looking and Vince…Vince was crumpled on the floor like a rag doll, weeping.

“…but you had to show off, you couldn’t let me have one thing to myself,” handsome Howard said in a deep and creamy voice that Howard was certain had never come from his own throat, “you had to show off how even fish couldn’t resist you. If you had tried just a little bit…”

“I’m sorry,” Vince whimpered, “I just show off to get your attention, I don’t mean anything…”

“And that’s why Old Gregg found me in the first place. It’s all your fault…”

“Fuck off,” Howard snapped as he approached the scene, “don’t use my face and Matt Berry’s voice to talk bollocks.”

Handsome Howard smirked, “You’re rubbing off on him.”

“Jog on,” Howard ordered. Handsome Howard dissolved. He was getting the hang of these dreams.

Howard was still naked but a quick thought put him in a nice, soft pair of cords and fuzzy jumper. He pulled the sobbing Vince into his arms and stroked his wet, conditioner covered hair. He waited until the sobbing subsided to put Vince in a matching outfit.

“Howard!” Vince whined. “Corduroy?”

Howard laughed and Vince crawled into his lap, making a tutting noise.

“S’not nice to take advantage of someone when they’re crying,” Vince sniffed, “putting them in ugly clothes…”

“I gave you a pink jumper,” Howard teased, “I’d have given you sequins but they’re scratchy. I was going for comfort.”

“I’m sorry I said the clothes were ugly,” Vince said before he began crying again.

Howard let him cry for a bit, knowing the smaller man couldn’t hear him anyway. He just held him tightly and kissed his now dry and untangled hair.

“If running afoul of characters like the Hitcher and Old Gregg are the price of having someone like you in my life, it’s a price I’m happy to pay,” Howard said when Vince calmed down, “I wouldn’t give up on the magic and the adventures for safety. I know that sounds strange coming from me, but it’s true.”

“I never meant to cause you trouble…”

“You don’t cause me trouble, the world causes me trouble. I was born under a bad sign…”

“I bit your record. I told people you were bummin’ Jack Cooper. I nearly got you killed by a kangaroo…”

“We can lay blame all night long. You’re a muppet and I’m a pompous ass. But…” the words were getting caught in his mouth, “we’re good people. We’re good friends. We don’t try to hurt each other or anyone else…”

Howard faltered under Vince’s suddenly intense stare, but he took a deep breath and continued.

“We’ve made our mistakes, but I don’t think we’ve ever done anything unforgivable, eh? We’re just trying our best…”

Vince threw his arms around Howard’s neck and kissed his cheek, “You’re the best mate, ever. Best tutor, best guardian, best flat mate, best band mate, best co-worker, best everything.”

Howard smiled at Vince’s unfettered sincerity. Even at his darkest, most cynical moments, it was impossible to deny Vince’s love. It just seemed so very misguided.

“So, has tall, dark and dickish been bothering you for long?” Howard asked, trying to keep things light, but worried about what his doppelganger might have said to Vince.

“He started out acting just like you and being nice but then…” Vince was tearing up again, “He started saying things that sounded more like…”

“Like what, Vince?” Howard gently encouraged.

“I can’t say it, I don’t want you to hear it,” Vince whispered, “I’m sorry I slept around so much, but I swear I wouldn’t have let you go down on me without a johnny if I weren’t sure I was clean. I go to the doctor’s every year and it’s been almost two years since… other than snogging Kylie…”

Howard gave Vince a tight squeeze, his heart breaking at the peek into Vince’s hidden fears.

“I don’t think you’re unclean and I don’t judge you for experimenting when you were younger. I’ve only ever worried about your safety,” Howard said, trying to sound as authoritative as Vince’s Dark Howard. “If anything, I know Naboo checked me out but…”

“It should have been me. He was right, I’m the one who is at the clubs, tryin’ to get all the attention, dressin’ like…”

“Don’t even finish that thought, you don’t deserve to be punished for enjoying life,” Howard said, sounding more gruff than he’d intended, “I’m the one that’s strange. I could never trust myself with you. I have such horrible thoughts.”

Vince moved so he was straddling Howard’s thighs, making it almost impossible to escape his piercing blue gaze, “Tell me what you’re afraid of, Howard. If you don’t, he’s going to keep coming back and telling me my mouth ain’t for talking and all that rubbish… I’ve heard it all before but it hurts so bad when it’s in your voice.”

Howard stroked Vince’s hair as the young man wept on his shoulder. Later, he could talk to Naboo and Bollo about tracking down every person who had ever made Vince feel bad about himself for being attractive and teaching them some respect. For now, he had to take care of Vince.

“Looking back, I’m sure it was all rather tame and fake, but…”

Howard’s fuzzy memories of a black and white film, a ‘stag film’ as his father called it, were projected into the darkness surrounding their shower scene. The men were oversized, in every way, and the women were small and clearly in pain as they were roughly manhandled.

“Poor, little Howard,” Vince sighed, still resting his head of Howard’s shoulder.

One of the brutish men was holding a woman by her hair, forcing himself down her throat as tears trickled down her cheek, streaking her mascara. He almost wished he could see the film again, see the bad acting and know it wasn’t real. While he was lost in his thoughts, the scene changed and it was Vince – eyes wet and fearful, begging Howard to stop.

He stopped the image as quickly as possible, but it’s too late. Vince saw and now Vince knew.

A new image popped up and it was even worse. Howard was taking Vince roughly from behind and saying terrible, demeaning things. Howard tried to make the image disappear, wondering where such hateful thoughts had come from, when he noticed how broad-shouldered and wavy-haired he looked in the image. Vince, on the other hand, was skinny and frail with an outsized nose and chin. Howard had never had a fantasy in which Vince didn’t look attractive. These were Vince’s thoughts.

“Fucked up, right?” Vince said with a weak laugh, “It isn’t what I usually think of when… I take things in hand… but sometimes. See? Mine is way worse. Even all traumatized, you’re still more innocent than me.”

The image faded, but Howard couldn’t stop blushing.

“I wasn’t tryin’ to make you uncomfortable, Howard. I just didn’t want you to think you were the only one who had those kinds of thoughts,” Vince explained, his head still on Howard’s shoulder.

A new image popped up, another of Vince’s fantasies. They were in the same position as in the previous image, but this was much more tender and gentle. Idealized Howard was fawning over Vince and declaring his love in the kind of purple prose that… wasn’t too far off from Howard’s own romantic fantasies.

“Can’t watch this too long,” Vince giggled, sounding self-conscious, “We’ll get all sticky from the treacle.”

“It’s brave, what you do, being honest,” Howard stammered, struggling to find the right words, “I wish I could be more like you, open, I mean.”

Vince finally looked Howard in the eye, but Howard had to look away. He let his thoughts appear, unfiltered, and hoped Vince would understand.

xxx

Vince spent his adolescence waiting to grow. Even though he’s a respectable height now, not tall but not tiny, he still feels more attractive in heels. He’s never understood why Howard was always slumping, instead of enjoying the gift of being tall.

Watching images from Howard’s childhood, it doesn’t take a genius to see why Howard is uncomfortable in his skin. Even the usual childhood traumas like walking in on his parents having sex are magnified by all the frightening things Howard had already seen. It was hard to guess Howard’s age by his appearance, it was only Vince’s knowledge of fashion that allowed him to pinpoint the year when thirteen-year-old Howard was closing in on six feet and found strangers having sex on his bed. When he was invited to join in, Howard looked terrified for a moment. Terror turned to embarrassment and then anger before he stormed into the hallway.

“Mum! Dad! My room is supposed to be off-limits! I put a sign up and everything!”

Vince immediaetly regretted laughing but Howard was chuckling as well.

“Poor Howard. You’re so cute! I wish I knew you then, not that you’d have wanted a little kid for a friend.”

“You were my first friend.”

Vince pondered the enormity of the statement as the scene changed again. Howard was sitting in Vince’s family home, pale and shaking while a very small Vince inspected a biscuit.

“This one is safe, Howard. No spiders. How long do drugs last?”

“It depends on what you’ve taken and how much,” Howard explained between hesitant nibbles.

“How much did you take?”

“I didn’t take any drugs, I accidentally ingested them because… oh, dear. The carpet’s moving again.”

“Don’t worry,” little Vince cried, “I’ll stop it!”

They both laughed as young Vince threw himself on the floor, pretending to wrestle the carpet into submission.

“You were just a little boy, but you always looked out for me.”

“I always will, too.”

Vince covered Howard’s lips in a kiss. They sat holding each other, exchanging gentle kisses until hunger pains forced Vince to wake up. He had a few minutes of gazing at the peacefully sleeping Howard before his companion awoke. As soon as he saw his friend’s dark eyes darting about, looking anxious, Vince moved in for another gentle kiss. They could keep the dream going a little bit longer.

Then they’d eat beignets until they couldn’t move.

 

 

[nextpage title=”Chapter 25″]

Chapter 25

Vince absently, but thoroughly licked the sugar off of his fingers as he watched the passersby at the Cafe du Monde.  It was the kind of innocently obscene gesture that would normally cause Howard to chastise Vince about his table manners, and then tell him to eat like an adult.

This time, Howard allowed himself to simply enjoy the show.  It felt a bit wrong, though he wasn’t sure why.  It was surely okay to look at Vince ‘that way’ now that they were…

Just thinking the word “lovers” brought a flush to Howard’s cheeks.

“Have I got sugar on my face?” Vince asked, wide-eyed but not at all innocent.

“Eat your French doughnuts, we wouldn’t want your blood sugar level to dip below 500,” Howard snapped.

Vince laughed, then admitted he didn’t get the joke.  Howard felt a rush of jumbled feelings.   He needed some proper food.

“All right, Howard?” Vince asked quietly.

“I’m in tip-top shape, Vince, fit as a fiddle,” Howard answered, too fast and too loud.  Vince looked worried.

“I’m fine,” Howard said, in a slightly calmer voice, “Really.  I’m fine.  Don’t look so concerned.  You’ll get frown lines.”

Vince scrubbed at his forehead until Howard laughed.

“I love you.”

Vince went red and he dropped his eyes to his plate.

Howard hadn’t meant to say it out loud.  He was feeling a bit confused.

“I need some proper food,” Howard snapped, feeling uncomfortably exposed, “Some of us can’t live on sugar and butter.”

“I love you, too, Howard,” Vince replied, still looking down at his plate, “let’s go get you some more roast beef or some fish and chips.”

Howard grabbed Vince’s hand and squeezed it as they walked, in search of real food.   Some people gave them funny looks, but Vince didn’t seem to mind, so Howard held on.

xxx

Sally didn’t believe in getting involved with coworkers, and she made it a policy not to puke in another person’s toilet.  Those were sensible policies for a sensible life.

Scrubbing Kylie’s toilet with bleach led to more vomiting, and then more bleach.

This was not sensible.  The signs were not pointing towards romance.

“Sweetie?” Kylie called gently through the door, “Harry just called and offered me two extra tickets for tonight!  If you can stop throwing up and cleaning for a few minutes, we should invite Vince and Howard.”

Sally splashed cold water on her face, and made the usual empty promises to the air that she would never again drink herself sick.  Then she sent Vince a text.  Her new friends were heading back to England Friday.  When they were gone, she would resume being sensible.

Until then, she would continue to enjoy herself.  Lazy good times rule.

xxx

Vince lay on the grass, with his hands tucked under his face in an angelic manner, listening quietly as Howard explained the history of Congo Square.  Vince’s blue eyes were focused and he was responding appropriately.  Vince was actually paying attention.

It was enough to make Howard lose his train of thought.  Vince’s eyes had always struck him as a touch unearthly, but today they seemed to be unusually piercing.

“Why do you think…?” Howard couldn’t think of a way to finish the question that didn’t sound like he’d gone completely mad.

“It’s just how we are, Howard.  We been like this for years,” Vince said, answering an unasked question, “We’re not like other people.  We don’t have the same kind of problems.”

It was an astute observation.  Howard felt like a teen again, all awkward limbs and hormones.  He wanted very much to kiss Vince, but it was too overwhelming in the figurative and literal light of day.  They both jumped a bit when Vince’s phone beeped.

“Kylie is genius!  Sally needs to hang on to her,” Vince mused as he read his message, “we’re going to hear some more boring jazz!”

Howard smiled indulgently as he looked at the phone Vince was holding to his face.  Harry Connick, Jr. in New Orleans.  That was a proper holiday.

“I wish your friends in England had such good taste,” Howard observed. “The best Leroy could do was tickets to a punk transsexual Spice Girls cover band…”

“I liked the Spice Grrrlz!” Vince protested, “that was a better night than when I had to save you from that old folk orgy with Lester.”

Lester had apparently misunderstood and thought the “swingers’ party” was a collection of fans of swing music.  Maybe he hadn’t misunderstood at all.  He’d been all too eager to stay and, “feel things out.”  The party had moved into disturbing “Cocoon” meets “Eyes Wide Shut” territory when Vince had stomped into the party and demanded Howard leave immediately.  When the geriatric swingers tried to protest, Vince explained that Howard was his submissive who had chewed through his rope to get to the party without permission.  Howard had been hesitant to leave Lester alone, but Vince made a strong argument by pointing out, “Lester is old, creepy’n’horny.  He belongs here.”

Vince had been so smug that he’d actually found a use for his human dog collar.

Howard was lost in his memories and instinctively pulled away when he felt something near his face.  Vince pulled his hand back and bit his lip.

“There’s a piece of grass in your hair,” Vince explained, before slowly reaching out to brush the blade away.  Howard held his head still as Vince brushed at his curls.  He felt a horrible urge to tell Vince how much he enjoyed having Vince cut his hair, that he liked it too much.  It made him uncomfortable.

Instead, he stayed quiet and let Vince play with his hair.

xxx

Vince felt a bit light headed as he and Howard approached Kylie and Sally.  Howard was holding his hand again.  The grip was a bit too tight to be called romantic, it was borderline panicky, but it was still lovely to have Howard cling to him instead of hiding away with his anxieties.  He was disappointed when Howard let go.  Apparently, all it took was a curious glance from Sally to bring Howard back to normal.  Even by his usual standards, Howard had been acting odd and twitchy all day.  Vince felt a bit shy about what they had shared the night before, but he had no regrets.  Howard deserved to know how much Vince wanted him.

And that Vince could be a bit pervy.

Howard relaxed as he chatted with Kylie about her experiences working with Harry Connick, Jr. during the hurricane relief.  Kylie had them all laughing at her stories about dealing with bureaucrats and red tape.  It was easy to forget she was talking about a horrible tragedy, she had such a charming way of spinning a yarn.  It was Kylie, herself, who broke the spell.

“It was great when Harry showed up because…” Kylie’s eyes welled with tears, “We kept thinking it would get better.  That the next day would be better, but it almost got worse.  Everywhere you looked, you saw so much pain…”

Sally placed a hand on Kylie’s shoulder and Kylie immediately regained her composure.  Vince wondered if Sally noticed how important her opinion was to Kylie.

“The worst thing, was…  everyone wanted to know ‘why’.  Everyone was looking for someone to blame and… there were assholes on TV talking nonsense about sin and vice and blaming the victims,” Kylie blinked back tears, “I’m a black Lesbian who didn’t evacuate and I didn’t get smited.  You know?  It was just bullshit but you could see how it hurt people.  There were so many people asking, ‘Why me?’ and they didn’t want to hear about poorly maintained levees.  They wanted to know what they did wrong to deserve such a horrible fate.”

“The Just-World Fallacy,” Sally added quietly, “We’re biased to believe that life is fair.  That we get what we deserve.”

Kylie nodded and blinked back tears, “And it is bullshit.  Terrible things happen to good people and fucking bastards turn a profit.  I was getting ready to leave when Harry showed up.  I was so depressed all the time… I know that sounds selfish, when other people had gone through so much more…”

“It isn’t selfish,” Howard said with surprising vehemence, “You can’t just lose yourself in someone else’s pain.  Other peoples’ pain, that is.”

Vince wanted to hug Howard and maybe throttle him just a bit.  The Northerner couldn’t seem to get it through his head that there was no happiness to be found for Vince in a world without Howard.

“Harry reminded me why I was there,” Kylie continued, “that I love the city, and I love the people.  It was worth the pain to rebuild the city that I love, my home.”

Vince had a feeling Kylie and Howard were having their own conversation.

“When my folks died, I was a right little git.  I don’t know why Howard put up with me…”  Vince found himself unable to finish his sentence with his face pressed to Howard’s chest and Howard’s arms squeezing the air out of his lungs.  He could feel and hear Howard’s panicky heartbeat.  He squeezed back until Howard began to relax.

“Christ, guys,” Sally griped as she dabbed at her eyes, “I only wear make-up twice a year and y’all are about to make me cry it off.”

Kylie grabbed Sally and Howard by the hand and Howard held Vince’s hand.  They walked into the club in a line, like children on a field trip.

xxx

Howard couldn’t quite get lost in the music, even though Harry was brilliant and the venue was intimate. He was still a little too on edge, a little too confused, to really relax.

It didn’t help that Vince kept staring at him.  Every time he glanced in the younger man’s direction, he saw those big eyes taking him in like he was an episode of Colobos the Crab.  So much had changed between them in the past few hours, Howard couldn’t begin to imagine what was going through Vince’s mind, and yet he was still looking at Howard with the same old, loving expression.

At least that’s how he looked at Howard when he didn’t think Howard was paying attention.    When Howard tried to talk to Vince, the awkwardness bubbled to the surface.  Vince had been so full of gentle affection, so loving and attentive that it was frightening.  Vince deserved so much more than Howard could hope to offer.

Howard belonged in a cave with Old Gregg.  That was the kind of love he deserved.

He gave a guilty start when Vince’s hand closed over his.  Vince looked worried and pale.  Howard tried to give him a reassuring smile, but Vince only looked more concerned.  He was too soft-hearted for his own good.  Vince never had the good sense to protect himself from the people who would drag him down.  He was always so sure he could lift people up.  The fact that Vince was usually right didn’t make his thinking any less dangerous to his well-being.

During his encore, Harry announced it was time to turn into a lounge singer.  He sang some of his more popular tunes while walking around the small audience, acknowledging people he knew and making jokes.  The room burst into applause when he began to sing, “It Had To Be You.”  Even Vince was swaying and quietly singing along.  He gave Howard a meaningful smile as he crooned, “Some others I’ve seen, might never be mean.  Might never be cross, or try to be boss, they wouldn’t do.”

Howard had to smile back.  In fact, he was so lost in Vince’s unguarded happiness, he didn’t even notice Harry approaching their table until he dropped an envelope on the table in front of Howard.

As the crowd went wild and begged for another encore, Howard opened the envelope with Vince hanging on his arm, whispering, “What is it?”

It was two tickets to a swamp tour.

xxx

Vince couldn’t get, “It Had To Be You” out of his head.  The song could have been written for Howard.  Vince could be glad just to be sad thinking about Howard.

Back in their hotel room, they kept their backs to one another as they changed into pajamas.  Vince wondered if he should just go out and buy some pajamas or if Howard would be okay with him sleeping in his pants. Or he could just keep wearing Howard’s pajamas.

Or maybe Howard would make him sleep in his own bed when they got back to England.

Howard crawled into bed first and pulled the covers up to his chin.  He looked nice and safe tucked up in his corner of the hotel room.  Vince wanted to jump in and cover him with kisses, but he was feeling a little wary of touching Howard.  His friend had been nervous all day.  Howard had stood silently by the hotel door as Vince checked the bathroom, the wardrobe and under the bed.   He’d only said, “Cheers, Vince,” before pulling out his night clothes, not once giving Vince even a hint of eye contact.

Vince was careful to stay on his side as he climbed into bed, lying so he was facing Howard.

“Why’ja think he gave us the swamp tour tickets?  Do you think the Star Turtle…”

“The tickets are for me, not you,” Howard snapped, “there’s no reason for you to go.”

“He gave you two tickets!” Vince protested. “Besides, what if something happens and I’m not there…” Vince trailed off as his brain caught up with his mouth.   ”We’re a team, Howard,” Vince continued in his most gentle voice, “Where you go, I go.  Things always go wrong when we split up.  You know that.”

Howard was trembling a little, so Vince wrapped the big man in a hug and stroked his hair, cooing nonsense into his ear.

“Vince?”  Howard’s voice sounded nervous and small.

“What is it, Howard?”

“Do you… that is, maybe we could…” Howard took a deep breath, “Doyouwanttomakelove?”

Vince’s embarrassingly eager response made them both laugh.

Howard was still acting like it was a timed event, trying to move things along and bring Vince to climax before things even got started.  Vince gently encouraged Howard to relax and enjoy himself, knowing it was like asking Howard to be shorter or to have bigger eyes.

They ended up with Howard lying on top of Vince, their bedclothes and pants pushed out of the way so Vince could work them both with one hand.  It was only a few minutes of sloppy kisses and panting before they were lying in a sweaty heap.   Howard was a little shaky as Vince cleaned them off, but nothing like the last time.  His skin was warm and his color was healthy as Vince wiped him down and tucked him back into his pajamas.  It was a bit strange for Howard to be so docile, but it was nice to see Howard so at ease and so trusting.  He said something to that effect, and all hell broke loose.

Vince held Howard tightly as the bigger man wept, big sobs wracking his body.  It was like a tornado, terrifying but brief.  After a few minutes, Howard was wiping his eyes and hiccoughing too hard to apologize for his breakdown.  Vince got him a glass of water and held him until he was able to regain his composure.  When Howard made another attempt to apologize, Vince shushed him.

“S’okay, Howard.  Cryin’ is normal,” Vince explained before adding under his breath, “you big poof.”

Howard had him pinned to the mattress in under ten seconds and was threatening to perform unspeakable atrocities against Vince’s hair.  Vince pretended to fight back as he squirmed and rubbed himself against Howard.

“My hair is a national treasure,” Vince protested, “you try and give me a tight perm and the Queen will do you for treason!”

“I could put your hair in bunches,” Howard threatened, “you look good in bunches…”

Vince and Howard both blushed and looked away, then they both laughed.   Half an hour later, the best Vince could manage was to wipe them off with his night shirt before tossing it on the ground.  Howard fell asleep mid-protest.  Vince curled himself around Howard and gave in to exhaustion.  Tonight, he planned to jump straight into Howard’s dreams before they even had a chance to turn ugly.

 

 

[nextpage title=”Chapter 26″]

Chapter 26

It was a nightmare. Howard knew it was a nightmare, but it hardly mattered. The pain was real and there was no escaping it. He couldn’t call for Vince.

“That’s right, ya slag, ya wouldn’t want Vince to see you like this,” the Hitcher leered into his ear. His breath smelled like death with just a hint of Bailey’s.

He had to ask Old Gregg for help; it was his only option.

“S’right, you nonce, beg for Old Gregg to fuck you,” the Hitcher laughed, “what other choice ‘ave ya got? Whadda conundrum!”

Howard tried to wake up, but he wasn’t sure how. He needed Vince.

Vince’s eyes were ice cold as his fingers closed around Howard’s throat.

No, that wasn’t Vince, it was the Hitcher.

“Don’t really matter now, do it?” the Hitcher sneered, “it’ll be my face ya see as soon as he tries to fuck ya, boy. It’ll always be me.”

Howard tried to close his eyes, but he couldn’t escape the Hitcher’s horrifying face.

“I’m inside ya, slag, all the way inside,” the Hitcher groaned into Howard’s ear, “you’ll never get me out of ya now.”

He could beg for Old Gregg, it would hurt less if it were Old Gregg.

“Oi, you are a slag,” laughed the Hitcher. “Beg for it, boy!”

Howard tried to picture Vince, sweet and loving…

xxx

Howard was staring at the wall of the room he shared with Vince above Naboo’s shop.

Home.

He was curled on his side, nearly in a fetal position, and someone was behind him.

Actually, someone was inside him, as well.

“Oh, Howard,” Vince moaned in his ear.

He’d found Vince, he was in Vince’s dream.

Vince ran his hand down Howard’s chest and between his legs. He was surprised to realize he was hard but quickly realized he wouldn’t be hard for long. Not if he kept thinking.

“Hey,” Vince whispered, slowing his already gentle thrusts, “you okay, Big Man? Do you want me to stop? Just say the word, baby.”

Baby?

“S’good,” Howard whispered, trying not to shatter the illusion of the dream, “don’t stop.”

He felt a bit nervous and shy about what was happening, but it was infinitely preferable to his own dream.

There were dozens of candles lit on the sideboard. Even as Howard began to feel anxious about the fire risk, his eyes fell on a fire extinguisher on the ground.

“Don’t stop,” Howard whispered again. There couldn’t have been a more romantic gesture than that fire extinguisher, no clearer proof of how much Vince cared.  Of how well Vince really knew Howard.

It didn’t matter if Vince’s eyes were exactly like Old Gregg’s (and like the Hitcher’s); Vince was made of love and sunshine.

Vince had stopped moving his hips and was rubbing his hand in gentle circles on Howard’s stomach, while covering his shoulder in kisses.

“No rush, Big Man, we can take it slow. I only want you to feel good,” Vince spoke in a creamy voice with none of his usual cheekiness. “I want you to feel happy and safe and loved.”

It was Howard’s undoing. He’d had this dream so many times. After Vince’s parents died, he’d woken up, full of shame, too many times to count after a dream about making love to his underaged and vulnerable charge. He understood this dream all too well and knowing that Vince was having it broke Howard’s heart, but also mended it a bit. His little man had been through so much. The last thing he wanted was for Vince to become aware of what was happening, he’d be absolutely mortified…

“What’s…? Howard?” Vince’s voice went from smooth and sexy to a high pitched squawk. “What’s happening?”  Vince was frozen in place, one hand still on Howard’s genitals and holding just a little too tightly for comfort.

“It’s just a dream, Vince, everything’s fine,” Howard said, with entirely too much volume to be believable.  “Don’t be upset.”

He could vaguely remember Vince saying something similar in the cave:  “Please don’t be hurt.”

It hadn’t occurred to Howard what it must have been like for Vince to be there in that cave… to do the things Howard needed him to do. Even as his instincts led him to feel guilty, Howard could see how useless it was to keep beating himself up. Because of Vince, Howard was still alive, and it was unthinkable that Vince should feel guilt or embarrassment over a dream.

“Listen to me, Little Man, this is just a dream, yeah? It isn’t…”

“Am I hurting you?” Vince asked in a tiny, wobbly voice.

“Of course not, it’s…” even in a dream, Howard couldn’t be totally honest. He was such a coward.

“I don’t know why I’m dreaming about… this,” Vince whispered into Howard’s ear, “I hardly ever dream about it being, you know, this way. It’s usually the other way round like in the Yeti dream.”

“It’s because you… want to take care of me,” Howard explained, feeling strangely worldly. “It isn’t about the sex.”

It wasn’t about the sex, it wasn’t about taking advantage of someone who was vulnerable.  When Vince lost his parents, Howard had wanted so badly to hold Vince and tell him he’d always be loved and never alone, but Howard hadn’t known how. Affection didn’t come easily to him and he had so many hang-ups about intimacy.  And Vince had been so young and so very beautiful.

Vince loosened his death grip on Howard’s cock, and gave him a few gentle strokes. Howard felt relieved when his body responded appropriately.

“Is this all right?” Vince asked, nervously, “Should I stop?”

“At this point, I think stopping would be just plain rude,” Howard replied, feigning a confidence he didn’t feel. “You need to finish what you’ve started, sir.”

Vince giggled and nuzzled the back of Howard’s neck, “S’good to have you bossin’ me around again.”

It took some coaxing to get Vince to be a little less careful, but, soon enough, Howard was face down on the bed and griping the sheets while Vince comforted his brains out. Each thrust was accompanied by declarations of love and devotion from both parties. Howard couldn’t quite get the hang of sex talk but even an approving noise seemed to be enough to please Vince. Meanwhile, Vince made several statements about Howard’s physique and sexual proficiency that not only ensured Howard did not give in to panic or despair and lose his erection, but that he would be blushing for the next week.

While awake, sex seemed to move all too quickly towards its logical conclusion; in dreams they could take their time. Howard relished the feeling of Vince inside of him, stimulating a million nerve endings with every movement. Howard felt a tingle in his toes telling him he was almost there, and yet he could still relax and enjoy the slow build.

“Nearly there,” Howard groaned. He was rewarded with a series of quick thrusts that left him seeing stars and then seeing the ceiling of their hotel room.

Howard quickly glanced over at his companion. Vince was a good foot away, curled up on his side and facing Howard. His breathing was a little shallow, but otherwise he seemed to be sleeping peacefully. Howard watched the tell-tale signs of tension as they appeared on Vince’s face, until the younger man grimaced and stiffened. When Vince’s eyes shot open, Howard had to look away, suddenly feeling uncomfortable for having watched his sleeping friend during such a personal moment. Howard knew it was ridiculous, given what they’d shared, but he felt awkward all the same.

“All right, Howard?” Vince asked in a hopeful tone.

“All right,” Howard replied before giving Vince a quick peck on the lips.

 

[nextpage title=”Chapter 27″]

Chapter 27

Vince felt his cheeks flame red every time he looked at Howard. He kept seeing Howard all flushed and trembling, equal parts eager and terrified. It had felt so good to hold Howard and really… well, it was a weird combination of comforting and sex. It hadn’t been like his normal (and embarrassingly frequent) sex dreams about Howard. This dream had been all fuzzy and soft around the edges, right up until he realized he had the real Howard in his dream with him. Then it had all come into sharp focus and he realized he’d failed in his plan to jump into Howard’s dream and stave off any night terrors. Apparently, he’d gotten side tracked by the sweetly submissive Howard in his dream, a Howard that he could coddle and fuss over and call by cutsie nicknames.

Real Howard had been pretty agreeable, for that matter. Of course, whatever nightmare had sent him to Vince’s dream must have been a hell of a lot worse than what Vince was doing to him.

Hazy images from the cave flooded Vince’s brain. He could clearly see poor Howard all bruised and terrified, begging for kindness.

Vince jumped so high, he fell off the bed when Howard touched his shoulder.  Vince tried to get back on his feet with a touch of dignity but Howard was already helping him, his face full of concern.

“Sorry, Little Man, I didn’t mean to startle you,” Howard apologized. Their eyes met for a fraction of a second before they both went red and looked away.

It shouldn’t have been weird, it shouldn’t have been any different from any of the other dreams or anything else they’d shared… but it was. It felt wrong and weird and selfish to have a dream about Howard doing something that Vince wouldn’t even consider asking for in real life.

Howard didn’t seem angry or even unhappy about the dream, he just seemed embarrassed. He was actually being very sweet about the whole thing, and somehow, that made Vince feel worse.

Worst of all, the dream had been so incredibly hot. Howard had been so beautiful, and just a little bit shy. Vince loved when Howard let his bravado drop and showed his fragile side. Because Vince was a horrible little brat, he often engineered opportunities to see Howard in a fragile state, like when he spread the rumors about Howard and Jack Cooper or teased him about his thin hair and crow’s feet. Vince loved when Howard looked to him for reassurance. He wouldn’t have to be such a horrible little brat if Howard would just let Vince take care of him once in a while.

They made their way to the lobby to wait for the tour bus in silence. Vince grabbed some Danish from the continental breakfast while Howard grabbed a sensible, whole-wheat-with-flax-seed bagel and low-fat cream cheese.

“That’s no way to eat in the Big Easy!” Vince teased. Howard gave him a stern look.

“I’ll have you know sir, that breakfast is the most important meal of the day.”

Vince smiled at the familiar, lecturing tone.

And then he remembered the dream and looked away.

xxx

It was a bit of a ride to the swamp tour and this particular bus driver felt no inclination to fill the air with chatter or jokes. Vince stared out the window, “accidentally” brushing his knee against Howard’s just to assure himself his friend was still there.

“Vince?”

“Yeah?”

“Nothing.”

Vince looked back out the window, his cheeks burning hot.

“Vince?”

“Yeah?”

“The dream…”

“Yeah?”

“It was, it… itwasanicedream.”

Howard was beet red and staring at the opposite end of the bus, but Vince was overjoyed. He threw his arms around Howard and kissed him on the cheek.

“Enough of that,” Howard snapped, “We’re still British.”

Vince laughed and put his head on Howard’s shoulder. Howard didn’t brush him away.

xxx

They didn’t discuss the obvious. Howard seemed confident that Harry Connick, Jr. wouldn’t be part of an evil plan. He was New Orleans’ favored son, bringing jazz to the masses. While Vince thought that was a damned good reason not to trust Harry, he did trust the Star Turtle. They climbed on the boat, hoped it wasn’t a trap, and Howard surreptitiously held Vince’s hand. As soon as the word ‘comfort’ floated into Vince’s mind, he felt a bit flushed but he was able to keep his composure. Howard had said it was a nice dream, after all.

“Ain’t you the kid on drugs, talkin’ to gators?” the captain asked Vince as soon as he boarded.

“I ain’t on drugs but, yeah, that was me.”

The captain squinted at Howard, “And this is the friend you were lookin’ for?”

Howard had been holding Vince’s hand but dropped it as the captain looked him over. Howard was standing tall, with his shoulders back. Vince had a feeling he was trying to look less like a damsel in distress.

“Yeah,” Vince said, gesturing to Howard without touching him, “This is Howard.”

“I’m glad things worked out, and you found him ‘fore you got eaten up by one of them gators. They don’t go lookin’ for people but you can’t be temptin’ them too much neither,” the captain said in gruff tone, nearly knocking Vince over with a powerful slap on the arm.

Vince melted a bit when Howard reached out to steady him and tried to play it off as the after-effects of the manly pat on the arm.

xxx

They saw several alligators before they found one in a chatty mood.

“Hey, you! Lady man!”

Vince, the only one who could understand, turned to look at the sunning gator.

“All right?” Vince called back.

That was enough to send the captain motoring toward the alligator.

“Is you the one that met the Star Turtle and a funky merman?”

“Um, yeah.”

Everyone, including Howard and the captain were staring at him. He hadn’t really cared when he was worried about Howard, but now it felt a little… strange. He hadn’t spoken to animals much since leaving the zoo, except for Bollo and he spoke English.

“The T-man wants you to know he’s done taken that merman under his wing and is teachin’ him a bit ‘bout how to be less of a fucking nut job.”

Vince felt a wave of relief and turned to Howard, “The Start Turtle is looking out for Old Gregg, trying to help him… be less of a fucking nut job.”

Howard didn’t look relieved, he looked pale.

“What about…the Hitcher?” Howard whispered.

“What about the merman’s crazy father?” Vince asked, a knot forming in his stomach. A less crazy Old Gregg might actually mean a less restricted Hitcher.

“He’s stuffed and mounted on Old Gregg’s wall,” the gator replied casually.

“He… he killed him?” Vince asked, incredulously.

“Nope,” the gator said with something like a shrug, “He’s still alive and he won’t shut up about the indignity of it all, but ya can tell he’s proud of his boy.”

“We won’t need to worry about the Hitcher for a while,” Vince assured Howard who instantly and visibly relaxed. He opted to keep the specifics to himself, Howard had enough nightmares.

“So, is Old Gregg… doing better?”

“He’s dating my sister,” the gator replied with obvious displeasure, “the family is in an uproar.”

“How’s that going?” Vince asked, not sure what else to say.

“Well, she bit his arm off…”

“So he only has one arm, now?” Vince asked. He noticed Howard looking almost concerned. He remembered how Howard had kept Sally from killing Old Gregg in the cave. There was a part of Howard that could still feel sympathy for the damaged creature, even after all he’d been through. It made Vince want to cry.

“No,” the gator sighed, “it grew back.”

Vince translated for Howard whose response was not profound, but still totally accurate.

“Eww.”

 

 

[nextpage title=”Chapter 28″]

Chapter 28

Vince suggested a “disco nap” after the alligator tour. Howard could imagine Vince in a disco. Vince owned a mirrorball suit. He was a disco.

In the hotel room, Howard awkwardly laid down on the bed and Vince curled around him, his hand on Howard’s stomach, right above his belt.

Howard tried to think of anything but the placement of Vince’s hand, but he was already getting hard.

Vince giggled and Howard considered hanging himself with one of Vince’s silk blouses. At this rate, Vince was going to be running to the nearest consolate, seeking asylum from his sex-crazed boyfriend.  Or whatever he’d call Howard if he was asked.

Vince pressed his lips to Howard’s neck and ran his hand over Howard’s tented trousers.

“I know you’re tired, Vince.”

“I will never be too tired for this,” Vince said, clearly trying to sound sexy but making himself laugh in the process.

Howard swatted Vince’s backside, only succeeding in making the man purr. He was relieved to find Vince was also aroused, and rather flattered by how sensitive Vince was to his touch. Vince kept having to grab Howard by the wrist, repeatedly apologizing.

“I’m not usually this bad,” Vince whimpered, “It’s just that’s it’s daylight and you’re you…”

Daylight was having the opposite effect on Howard. He felt uncomfortable and exposed. He hoped Vince wouldn’t want him to take off his clothes even as he pried off Vince’s drainpipes.

“I always knew I could make it good for you,” Vince whispered, “if I could get you to just forget who I was…”

Howard nuzzled Vince’s neck, not sure how to respond.

“But this is so much better,” Vince continued, “This is genius.”

Howard awkwardly disengaged himself from Vince’s grip and started kissing his way down his friend’s bony ribcage.

“How is it you’re still emaciated? You’ve done nothing but eat and drink hurricanes and mimosas since you arrived,” Howard oberved as he worked his way to Vince’s flat tummy.

“There were a few days I didn’t eat…” Vince began before trailing off, awkwardly.

Howard kissed his friend’s hip bone, “Sorry, Little Man.”

“Don’t be… oh, that’s made my eyes cross.”

Howard had seen far too much porn in his life, between his parents and working for Bob Fossil. What he lacked in personal experience, he made up for in visual studies. Every time he cast a glance up at Vince, those big, blue eyes were fixed on him like lasers.

Howard decided to keep his head down. Once he worked out how to relax his neck muscles a bit, Vince was a panting, swearing shambles.

The idea of Vince ever leaving him hung in Howard’s mind like the sword of Damocles, just ready to fall and fuck everything up.  Howard screwed his eyes shut and tried to just think about what he was doing at the moment, to just enjoy having Vince squirming in his hands and mouth, and cursing like a sailor.

If he knew the whole story…

Howard took Vince completely into his mouth and lost some strands to the pale hands gripping his hair.

“Oi, Howard,” Vince panted.

Howard had expected Vince to take off when he was sixteen, when he had his first girlfriend, when he had his first boyfriend, every time he made a new friend or joined a new band, when the zoo closed and a million other times; and yet, Vince was still at his side.

The first finger was an accident, his finger slipped while he was groping Vince’s ass, but Vince whimpered.

“Okay, Howard,” Vince panted, “S’alright.”

As soon as he began probing Vince’s entrance, Vince clamped his whole body around Howard’s head and came in his mouth. Undignified, but also quite sexy. Vince treated sex like everything else in life, he ran at it full speed and jumped in without a thought about caution or good sense.

“That was mental, Howard. I think I might have had a stroke,” Vince whimpered. “Do you smell burning toast?”

Howard chuckled and tried to unfurl his partner.

“You are a shameless hedonist.”

Vince smiled angelically, “I don’t know what that means. Is it good or bad?”

“In this case, it’s very good,” Howard answered sincerely. Vince wrapped himself around Howard, rubbing Howard’s stomach under his Hawaiian shirt.

“Howard?”

“Yeah?”

Howard waited for a response but Vince was unusually quiet.

“What is it, Little Man?” Howard prompted, “You can say… anything. I can handle it.”

Howard stared at the ceiling and waited for the worst. What he got was a naked Vince straddling his waist and kissing him gently.

Howard stroked Vince’s hips and indulged in a little fondling of his rear. He’d spent nearly half his life trying not to ogle that perfect, squeezable arse as Vince wore tighter and tighter jeans with every year.

“Do you want to?” Vince whispered into Howard’s ear.

Howard was thrown off by Vince’s apparent clairvoyance and gave his bottom a squeeze, “I’ve wanted to for a long time.”

“Are you sure?” Vince asked, in a shaky voice.

“Do I seem conflicted, sir? I am a happy, happy man…” Howard sighed as he continued his exploration.

Vince was staring at him with an intensity that forced Howard to look away.

Howard was staring at the wall as Vince rifled about on the night stand. Howard was still trying to work out why Vince needed his night cream for a nap, when the answer became clear. Vince was preparing himself. There had been a serious breakdown in communication.

Howard felt a wave of panic, but there was no denying he was excited. The idea that he could be inside of Vince, that he could feel that velvety heat…

It could go badly in so many ways. Or it could be the best 30 seconds of his life.

Howard continued to caress Vince as he stretched himself. Vince’s tongue was sticking out a bit as he concentrated. It was ridiculous and beautiful. It took Howard a while to work up the courage to take over the preparation process. Vince buried his face in Howard’s shoulder, trembling like a leaf as Howard carefully slipped two fingers in. Howard was lying on his back but he still felt dizzy, like he needed to put a foot on the floor.

“Howard,” Vince panted, “that’s… wow.”

They took their time. Vince seemed to genuinely enjoy what they were doing. Vince repeatedly ducked his head and mussed his hair, clear signs he was feeling shy even as he urged Howard to add another finger.

“I want this to be so good for you,” Vince purred as he pulled down Howard’s trousers and pants, “I don’t want you to ever regret this.”

“I think you’ve got it backwards, sir. That should be my line.” Howard tried to keep his tone light, but he was more than a little nervous. With Vince’s help, what Howard had done with Old Gregg had been tolerable, but still incredibly uncomfortable. Just because something was amazing in a dream didn’t mean it wouldn’t be disastrous in real life.

Vince took Howard’s face in his hands, his pupils were so dilated, there was only a tiny ring of blue.

“I will not let this go wrong,” Vince promised, “I’ve been dreamin’ ‘bout this for ages.”

Howard closed his eyes as Vince stroked him with his expensive night cream. His penis was going to look youthful and wrinkle free when they were done. It was an absurd enough thought to keep him from coming the second Vince started to lower himself onto Howard’s cock.

“Slowly,” he whispered, though Vince was already moving just about as slowly as humanly possible. He hand one hand holding Howard’s erection in place and the other on Howard’s face. He kept running his thumb across Howard’s cheek in a compulsive motion. It began to hurt a bit but Howard was grateful for the distraction.

It was even better than Howard expected and he had expected it to be amazing. It was more pressure than Vince’s mouth or…

As soon as Old Gregg popped into his head, Howard tried to push him out. He tried not to think about those eerily familiar eyes or the wet heat under an ever present tutu…

“What’s wrong, Howard?”

Vince sounded far away, like he was in a tunnel.

Or a cave.

Vince was crying.

Howard remembered how bad it had hurt to have the Hitcher trying to force himself in. It had made him so desperate, he’d offered himself to Old Gregg just to get away from that sharp and burning pain.

Howard clutched at his head, trying to get his thoughts to settle down. He needed to know why Vince was crying. He needed to save Vince. When he tried to reach out to Vince, Howard realized he had been tightly wrapped in a blanket.

“What’s happening, Vince?” he asked, feeling like his heart was going to explode, “why am I all wrapped up?”

“You’re freezing, Howard,” Vince sniffed, “I’m trying to get you warm. I’m afraid to call Naboo…”

Howard fought his way out of his blanket cocoon and pulled Vince into his arms. He covered them both with the blanket and stroked the younger man’s back until his sobs subsided. He cleaned Vince’s face with a tissue. He knew he was being too rough, he well remembered similar face scrubbings from Nan Moon, but he could feel Vince relaxing. Howard had learned a lot of lessons from Nan Moon, most of them terrible, but he’d learned that it could feel good to give in and let someone else take charge. He’d never felt safer than when his Nan was manhandling him. She was a nutter, but she never hurt him. She spit on her hand to flatten his hair, which was disgusting, but also made him feel like he safe.

Someone was taking care of him.

Nan Moon had taught him the safety that could be found in order. Howard had a rotation system for his clothes so they were all worn equally, but he let his hair grow long and shaggy. Maybe he was still waiting for someone to clean him up and make him presentable.

“Now, listen to me, Little Man,” Howard said, slipping into his bossiest tone and handing Vince a tissue, “you need to calm down before you make yourself sick. Now blow your nose. Again.”

Vince meekly followed his orders, and soon enough, his weeping turned into quiet sniffles.

Normally, Howard would make tea in an emotional situation, but Vince was still naked and Howard’s pants were down around his ankles. Vince’s eyes were red and swollen, so Howard kissed them first. That started Vince crying again, but he was clinging to Howard’s neck so Howard continued to kiss him. He kissed Vince’s sharp cheekbones and his beautifully crooked nose and his pale shoulders.

“Um, Howard?”

Vince’s face tasted of salt. His lips were still sweet from the praline he’d eaten on the way back to the hotel. They were both still slicked up, but Howard took a few minutes to make sure Vince was properly stretched. Vince looked dubious at first, but soon he was groaning as Howard twisted his fingers. Howard felt that he was at a crossroad. It was time to be a man of action.

Vince was still sniffling, but he was hard and he didn’t hesitate to spread his legs for Howard. He could never have explained what he was feeling, he barely understood it, but Howard was positive that Vince was thinking the same thing. It was only when they tried to fight against their bond that things went wrong.

Being inside of Vince felt so good, it almost hurt, but it felt right. Vince was working himself furiously with one hand, the other gripping the back of Howard’s neck as though he might slip away.

Howard wanted to say something deep and poetic, but all he could think of was, “You’re so goddamn beautiful.”

Vince bit his lip and Howard felt a warm splash on his stomach.

“Quit smirking,” Vince whimpered, his eyes still squeezed shut and his body trembling.

“Howard Moon doesn’t smirk,” Howard replied, trying to make it last a few more minutes, “he smiles… knowingly.”

Vince pried one eye open, “That’s not a smile, that is a smirk.”

Howard tried to think of a response, to tease Vince about his vanity, but he was too close. He wasn’t ready for it to end but Vince was wrapping his legs around Howard’s waist and pulling him closer.

“Don’t ever stop,” Vince mumbled into Howard’s shoulder. The words had the opposite of their intended effect. Howard’s body spasmed as he came. Any effort to be suave was undone by his spastic and seemingly unending ejaculation. Vince giggled as Howard continued to pulse inside him.

“This is no laughing matter,” Howard growled, wondering if he was ever going to stop. Vince covered his own mouth with both hands but he couldn’t control his giddy reaction. Howard collapsed on top of Vince, suddenly exhausted. When Vince made a sound like, “oof!”, Howard rolled them both over so Vince was on top of Howard. He was still completely hard. Perhaps his mini-breakdown had thrown off his wiring. Maybe his penis didn’t realize his job was done.

Vince sat up, straddling Howard’s waist.

“We could start all over again,” Vince suggested in a smokey voice before dissolving into giggles, “I can’t be sexy with you, it’s too weird!”

Howard shook his head at the ridiculous statement, “You’re always sexy.”

Vince ducked his head and played with his hair.

“Maybe we should take that nap, now,” Howard suggested. Vince carefully disengaged himself and ran to the bathroom. When he returned with a flannel, Howard was easily convinced to lie back and let Vince clean him up.

“It’s nice,” Howard announced awkwardly, feeling like he was speaking way too loud, “When you take care of me, it’s -erm- nice. Thank you.”

“I like takin’ care of you. When you were missin’… I don’t know,” Vince’s eyes were welling up with tears and Howard pulled him into his arms.

Howard kissed Vince on every available patch of skin until the smaller man was giggling and squirming.

“Don’t get me horny, again, Howard! I’m tired!” Vince pleaded through his laughter.

“I can’t help it,” Howard responded with a bravado that still felt a bit creaky and dusty, “Howard Moon is sexual monsoon, raining pleasure…”

“And tweed,” Vince added.

“Pleasure and tweed all over your ass.”

Vince suddenly turned serious and whispered, “I missed you so much.”

It seemed like maybe they should talk about what had just happened, but it felt a bit unnecessary. Howard was a basket case and Vince loved him anyway. What else was there to say?

concupid
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