Let the Good Times Roll

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

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Chapter 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?

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