Lost
Category: The Mighty Boosh
Characters: Howard Moon, Vince Noir
Pairing: Howard Moon/Vince Noir
Rating: NC-17
Status: Complete
Length: 10-20k words
Fruit
Contents
Fruit
Howard leaned forward, peering out of the van’s windscreen at the ominous dark shapes that surrounded them. He sighed.
“Where the hell have you ended us up now?”
At his side Vince, who had been struggling to keep his eyes open, looked blankly around at what he could see of their surroundings.
“But you said it was a shortcut…”
“This isn’t another raspberry bootlace B road, is it?”
“No!” Vince could do wounded innocence when it suited him. “Look.” He thrust the map into Howard’s hands, pointing. “See? I was doin’ it right, followin’ that road, the one you said was the right one.”
And to Howard’s chagrin it was the correct road. He couldn’t blame this… lostness on Vince’s inept map-reading skills. So it must have been his own fault.
Damn. He glared uselessly at the map, which glared back at him, then turned to his partner.
“OK. But there’s no forest shown on the map.”
“Perhaps it grew while we were driving.”
“Vince, forest don’t just suddenly spring into being. They take years, sometimes hundreds of years, to grow.”
“Well, maybe the map’s hundreds of years old then.”
This was a surprisingly sensible suggestion, for Vince, and for a moment Howard wondered… then he checked the date on the front of the Road Atlas. Nope. Last year’s version. He said as much. Vince pouted and slumped down in the passenger seat.
“Well s’not my fault we’re lost.”
“We’re not lost. I just don’t know where we are. But don’t you worry, little man. You’re with Howard Moon, Man of Action…”
Vince pretended to yawn.
“Yeah yeah. Just get us out of here, will you? I’m runnin’ out of flyin’ saucers.”
Gritting his teeth, Howard took another long look at the map and started the van’s engine. The best bet seemed to be simply to continue down this road. No doubt it would come out of the forest at some point, and he could get his bearings. They’d be back to civilisation in no time.
Howard rubbed dry aching eyes and grinned mirthlessly at the disgustingly wide-eyed and alert electro ponce—or was he being a Mod at the moment? Or a punk? Howard was too tired to remember.
“No, Vince. It’s not a beach. It’s a desert.”
“… why’d you want to drive here then?” Vince peered out of the window, hand shading his eyes from a fiercely blazing sun. “There’s nothin’ here. And I ain’t brought me suncream.”
Howard was terribly tempted to let loose with a stream of caustic comments—but he was so bloody tired… He’d been driving for… how long? It had to have been at least twelve hours. Possibly longer: Vince had fallen asleep with his usual ease and facility soon after their altercation in the forest, leaving Howard to drive in silence through the night. He hadn’t even noticed they’d come out onto the sand until half an hour ago…
The van suddenly jerked and spluttered, sounding a little like Bollo after a night romancing the hookah.
And the engine died. Vince stopped fussing over his hair in the rear-view mirror and frowned at his friend.
“Why you stoppin’? This is nowhere.”
Howard rested his hands on the steering wheel then dropped his head to rest on their backs.
“We’re out of petrol.”
“Oh.” There was a moment’s silence, in which Howard could feel himself floating as exhaustion claimed him, then, “But there’s lots of oil in the desert, in’ there? In’ that where it comes from?”
“Not in this country…”
“Howard? Howard, you all right? Howard?”
But Howard was dead to the world.
“…. Howard… Howard?… Howard!… Howard. Howard. HowardHowardHoward… Howard… c’mon, wake up…” A hand impacted lightly with his face, and he jerked awake, brown eyes wide.
“Wha…? Who…?”
Vince grinned at him. Was there a glint of relief in his eyes?
“God you don’ ‘alf sleep sound! You awake now?”
Howard groaned and closed his eyes. His entire body was heavy and sluggish with too little rest, and he felt… wet…
Oh. Sweat. He suddenly realised how hot he was, and pushed himself up on his elbows. To his surprise he found himself lying on the sand in the shade of the van. He frowned at his partner, and Vince lowered his eyes.
“Yeah, well, it got a bit hot in the van. Thought you’d sleep better out here.” He scowled, though Howard thought it looked false. “Heavy bugger you are, too, ya great lump! Nearly bust a gut getting’ you out the door.”
Howard flopped back to the sand and closed his eyes again.
“… sorry…”
“S’OK.” A brief silence, then Howard felt a hand resting on his chest. He forced tired eyes open and squinted up at his partner. Vince managed a small smile.
“We goin’ to be all right?”
Howard struggled to a sitting position, rubbing at his face. All he could see in front of him was sand—rolling dunes to the horizon. Twisting and grabbing hold of the van’s wing mirror, he hauled himself upright and, hand shielding his eyes, gazed at the sunward side of the landscape, heart sinking. More sand. More dunes. The forest was the tiniest darkness on the far horizon, far too far away for them to reach on foot. Alive, at any rate.
He turned and slid down the van’s metal side, sitting back on the sand and swallowing hard, eyes lowered, avoiding looking at Vince’s hopeful expression.
“Yes, of course we will…”
“Really?”
For a moment he seriously considered telling the truth, but a glance at Vince’s face changed his mind. He managed a smile.
“Yes. We will.”
“How?”
Howard swallowed, then forced himself to think.
“What provisions do we have?”
Vince chewed on his lower lip for a moment, then dragged a bag from the van and rummaged in its depths. He glanced up at Howard, a little shame-faced.
“Um…”
Howard sighed.
“Let me guess. Black jacks and fruit salad chews, Parma violets, sherbet dips…”
“Well, yeah…”
“Do we have any water?”
“What?”
“Water. Anything to drink.”
Vince dug down into the bag and triumphantly held up a small plastic bottle of generic limeade.
“Yeah!”
Oh great. That’ll last us five minutes if we’re lucky…
Vince’s smile was fading, and Howard realised his own expression must have been somewhat less than ecstatic. He rubbed his face.
Then suddenly brightened. Vince watched him, cautiously hopeful. Howard caught his wrist.
“Mowgli.”
Vince looked bewildered.
“Wha…?”
“Mowgli in flares. You talk to animals, right?”
“Um, well, yeah…”
“So talk!”
Vince gazed at the desert blankly.
“What to?”
Fired up, Howard twisted to kneel in front of Vince, eyes alight.
“The desert is full of life, Vince. I read it in the Global Explorer. You just need to find it.” Howard glanced up: almost out of sight a bird was circling high overhead: on the downdune slope the sand stirred as a tiny, ochre-coloured lizard skittered across the shifting surface. “Lizards, Vince. You do lizards. Ask them where the nearest water is.”
A beautiful smile, a little like a sunrise, spread slowly over Vince’s face as he nodded.
“Genius.” He twisted and lay flat on the sand, face propped in his hands as the oddest hisses and croaks issued from his mouth. Howard watched, entranced, as the little lizard made its way up the slope and halted in front of his partner, then danced, its tiny legs flicking up and down as its head moved from side to side… After a couple of minutes Vince bowed his head and the lizard scuttled off.
“He says there’s an oasis about an hour’s walk that way.” Vince pointed deeper into the desert. “He says there’s food there too.”
Howard closed his eyes in relief, slumping against the slowly heating side of the van. “Oh, thank god…”
“Howard?” Vince was tugging at his arm. “You OK?”
“I will be.” Howard pushed himself upright, took a deep breath, and began to walk, Vince stumbling along beside him.
Half an hour later, Vince was flagging: Howard stopped to let him catch up, and Vince slumped against him.
“How’d you do that?”
Howard slid an arm around his waist in support.
“Do what?”
Vince was gasping, fanning his face with his hand.
“Jus’… keep… stridin’ on like that….”
“Ah…” For a moment Howard was tempted to strike a pose and spout the usual ‘Howard Moon, Man of Action’ rap, but… This was, somehow, real. Really real. They had no option but to rely on each other. He brushed Vince’s limp, sweat-damp hair back from his angular face and smiled.
“A little bit further and there’ll be shade, and water, and something to eat. We’ll be safe there while we sort out how we’re going to get back.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah. C’mon, I’ll help you.”
The oasis was, for want of a better word, damn near perfect. A deep cool pool of pure water about the size of a tennis court, bordered by fragrant shrubs laden with strange but attractive rich red fruits, and shaded by graceful desert palms, their leaves a blissful source of shade after the blistering desert sun.
Howard gazed around the place with awe. It was beautiful. He could hear a soundtrack creating itself in his head as he watched Vince drag off his boots and top and kneel at the water’s edge, splashing the cool liquid over himself with a blissful sigh, the silvery drops trickling down over the pale smooth skin of his back. Soft, touchable skin…
Howard’s brain came to a screeching halt.
Nonononono.
No.
NO!
He swallowed hard, hands balled into fists. No. Vince was his friend.
And the other part of yourself…
Howard tasted copper in his mouth, realising with surprise that he’d bitten his lip hard enough to break the skin. He’d said it himself—he was the dark, broken side, while Vince was sunshine and rainbows. Together they made a complete person…
“What you standing there for? You’ll burn, ya twat.”
Howard jumped, blinking as he came back to himself. Smiling weakly he joined his friend under the tree, dragging off his shirt and vest. The heat really was intolerable here, but at least the tree offered some relief.
“You hungry?”
“Mm.”
Vince waved a hand at the ripe red fruit on the bushes.
“Wonder what they are?”
Howard pushed himself upright and plucked two, sniffing at them warily. The mouth-watering fragrance of strawberries and roses had him closing his eyes with an odd visceral jolt of pleasure.
“I think you’ll like these, little man.”
“Give us one, then.”
Their fingers brushed as Howard extended a hand, and he shivered. Vince grinned.
“Ta.” There was a moment of silence as he bit into the fruit, pink juice running down his chin. It took all of Howard’s willpower not to wipe it—or better, lick it away—then, “‘Om… s’goo’…”
Howard took a small bite of his own. Whatever the fruit was, it was indecently succulent. He closed his eyes, as much to focus on the taste as to block out the sight of Vince sucking juice from pale fingers…
Three fruits later Vince sighed contentedly and slumped against Howard’s suddenly tensed form.
“Mmmmm…. Think I need a little sleepie now.”
He wriggled, trying to get comfortable, and without thinking Howard wrapped an arm over his shoulders, allowing Vince to settle against his chest.
“Cheers mate. You’re quite comfy, you know. Though you should try using more deodorant…”
Irritably, Howard shoved him away and stood up, glowering. Vince shrugged and raised his hands.
“What? I only meant you’re hot. You could do with a shower.” He pulled at a lock of his hair, frowning at the ends. “So could I.”
“Yes, well you’re going to have to wait ‘til we get back to civilisation.”
Vince glanced up at him.
“How we gonna do that?”
Howard frowned pensively, then snapped his fingers.
“Ring Naboo. Wouldn’t take him more than a couple of hours to get here on that carpet of his.”
“Yeah. Only one problem.” Vince eyed him a little nervously. “I ain’t got my phone with me.”
“What! But you always have your phone!”
Vince shrugged.
“I forgot it, all right! It’s in the van.”
Howard groaned and gazed back the way they’d come. The van was hidden behind the numerous dunes they’d had to climb on the way here…
He couldn’t face it, not in this heat. He slumped down against the tree, resting his head against the rough bark and closing his eyes. Seconds later he felt Vince’s hand touching his face, and froze, eyes opening in alarm.
Vince’s face was very close to his. Too close. A matter of inches and they’d be kissing…
“I am sorry, y’know.” He was too, Howard could see it in his eyes. The maverick sighed.
“It’s all right. I’ll wait until evening and head back when the sun goes down. It’ll be cooler.”
“And leave me here all by myself? No way!”
“Vince, we have to get ourselves out of this mess…”
Vince was stroking his cheek.
“What mess? We got food, and water, and shade—it’s like a little holiday.”
Howard tried to object, but found himself rapidly becoming incoherent under the touch of Vince’s fingers. And really, the smaller man had a point. They could easily survive here for a week or so. Sooner or later, during one of his less stoned moments, Naboo would realise they were missing and use his shamanic powers to find and then rescue them. Well, rescue Vince, anyway: Howard was under no illusions as to the shaman’s opinion of him. He’d just be an afterthought.
The hand had moved from his face and was now stroking his chest, and Vince was snuggling against him again, getting comfortable as he drifted off to sleep. Sighing, Howard slid an arm around his shoulders again, closing his eyes and thinking firmly of anything other than the fact he had Vince in his arms…
“Birds.”
Vince shifted sleepily, heavy against his chest.
“Wha…?”
“Birds.”
Vince nuzzled him.
“Don’ need no birds… got us…”
Howard didn’t want to examine that too closely right now. Instead, he gently eased the smaller man upright and patted his arm.
“Wake up, Vince. You need to do your Mowgli thing again.”
Vince yawned widely, rubbing at his eyes.
“What you do that for? I was havin’ a lovely dream, we was on a bouncy castle made of rainbows, and you was wearing a pink schoolgirl outfit…”
Howard growled quietly and shook his partner.
“I don’t want to hear about your fetishes. I want you to talk to a bird, get it to fly to Naboo and tell him where we are.”
“Oh.” Vince frowned at the trees. “But birds don’t have a lot of brain. They’re a bit like me, that way. It’ll probably forget why it’s going there.”
“Try anyway.” Anything to avoid the trek back to the van. The more he thought about it, the more certain Howard became that he wouldn’t even be able to find the van again. He knew from bitter experience how easy it was to get lost in the desert.
“All right…” Vince took a deep breath and whistled, loud and high. Moments later a small raptor landed on a nearby bush, and Howard watched, fascinated, as Vince whistled and squawked at the bird. Finally it made a funny little cawing sound and flew off, and Vince settled back against the tree, looking satisfied.
“That was lucky.”
“Why?”
“Intelligent bird, that one. Think it’ll remember what it’s doin’.”
“Well that’s a relief.”
Vince nestled back down against Howard, who by now was having to mentally organise and categorise his record collection to take his mind off his partner’s nearness, and his scent, and the fact that it was becoming harder and harder to resist the urge to kiss him. Or do other, more intimate things…
Midnight, back in the Dalston flat. Howard had managed to ignore Naboo’s jibes about incompetent drivers who couldn’t read maps and didn’t carry spare petrol cans, and Bollo’s scolding as he checked Vince over for sun damage or other injuries, and now, freshly showered, lay on his back on his bed, consigning the whole weird experience to memory. He almost didn’t hear the quiet tap on the door.
“Howard? You awake?”
Vince, of course. He sighed and called out, “Yes, I’m awake.”
A pale face topped by a mop of black hair peered around the door, and Vince stepped into the room.
“All right?” He grinned, his teeth gleaming in the muted light, and sat down on the edge of Howard’s bed.
“Yeah. Just knackered.”
Never one to take a hint, Vince settled himself more comfortably.
“Think we could find that place again?”
Howard groaned.
“Why would we want to?”
“Well, it was fun! Wannit?”
Howard eyed him tiredly. But he did have a point.
“Yes. I suppose it was. Remember that fruit?”
“Oooh, yeah…
‘Red like a stop light
Smelt like a flower shop’…”
Grinning, Howard took up the crimp.
“‘Dancing in the sunshine
Tasting like a harem,
Rosy, rosy
Rosy in the garden’…”
“‘Lip lickin’ goodness
Juicy on yer fingers,
Plant it on the rooftop,
Water it with moonlight.
Ooooh yeah,
Ooooh no…
Rosy rosy—
Roseberry heaven.’“
They finished together. Howard sighed.
“Good times, good times…”
There was a momentary pause, then,
“Howard?”
“What is it, little man?”
“I was glad you were there.”
In the startled silence Howard stared at his partner. Vince leaned forwards and stroked his cheek, briefly.
“And you smell… nice. Even without deodorant.”
Speechless, Howard watched as Vince stood and headed for his own bed, one hand fluttering in a small wave.
“Sleep tight…”