Category: The Mighty Boosh
Pairing: Howard Moon/Vince Noir
Length: <1k words
Notes: I’m not too happy with the way this one came out, but it’s not going anywhere else and I’m not doing anything else with it, so here it is. Written in about 5 minutes so if you hate it, that’s why.
Pointless by raynor
Howard watched Vince through the window, basking in glory as some weird punk-looking girls admired his hair. Sometimes it felt to Howard as if he was an entire world away from Vince…not only in looks, but in personality as well. They were so different… jazz VS electro; facial features VS no facial features; North VS South; flamingly flamboyant VS drearily drab…there were no two ways around it. They were completely different, but somehow absolutely the same.
Busying himself around the tiny cabin by making a cup of tea, Howard couldn’t stop thinking about Vince. He glanced down at the floor. Even their sleeping bags were completely different; Howard’s being a plain dark green mess with a zipper, compared to Vince’s bright pink and luminous green extravaganza, neatly made and scattered artistically with feathered cushions.
He turned to the window again to see Vince flirting with the girls. Howard wondered if it would ever stop hurting when he had to see people fawn all over Vince, applauding his hair and sense of style.
“Did you make that jacket yourself?” One of the punk-girl’s voices filtered in through the open window.
“Yeah…bit of this, bit of that, bit of paint and pins and this is what you get. Alright? Full Vince Noir experience.” Vince laughed and the girls joined in, the sound piercing Howard’s heart.
Was this charade ever going to come to an end? Was he ever going to be able to stop pretending that he was in love with Mrs Gideon so that Vince wouldn’t realise that it was really him that he was in love with? The amount of times he’d had to make an arse out of himself in front of that ghastly woman so that Vince wouldn’t realise that he had any feelings out of the ordinary for him. Mrs Gideon was just a decoy; a clever ploy so that Vince wouldn’t question him about never going out on dates, or never taking an interest in other girls.
Howard looked at himself in the small mirror in the corner. Tall and broad, not lithe and lean like Vince.
Vince opened the door to the hut and strolled in, glancing at Howard, frozen in place looking in the mirror. “Alright? Checkin’ yourself out? Maybe need to thin down that beard, looks like Richard Branson took over your face.”
Howard closed his eyes and sighed. Things would never be the way he wanted them. It was pointless even thinking about.