Challenge 13: The Lost Weekend
Title: The Lost Weekend
Author: thickets
Word Count: 200
Genre: FPS
Pairing: Howard/Vince
Rating: PG
Warning: None
Disclaimer: Boosh belongs to Julian, Noel, and Baby Cow.
Author's Note: Challenge #13, Films. Wherein a lot of words are stupidly contracted to get the word count down to 200. A CHEATER IS ME.
Howard stared at Vince's tightened shoulders, the dejected slope of his back as he sat facing away on the hotel bed. He'd made rather a mess of things, hadn't he?
“Vince, I'm sorry.”
“What have you got to be sorry for? S'my fault, ain't it? I shouldn't've misunderstood.”
“What do you mean, misunderstood?”
A pause. “I thought this weekend was meant to be … y'know, time alone. Just us.”
“It was! It is.” Howard groaned. “I'm the one who should be sorry, Vince. I got carried away.” His eyes drifted over to the bedside table, where his carefully typed and color-coded itinerary still sat, the source of their argument.
With a deep sigh, Vince flopped backwards onto the bed, his arms outspread. “I s'pose … I just wanted to be somewhere nobody knew us.”
“You wanted nobody to know who you were?” Howard asked warily and skeptically.
Vince grinned, a little shyly. “'Cept you … you're the only one who matters.”
Howard climbed onto the bed, pulling Vince against him. “Well … do you want to get lost this weekend?”
Vince smiled, and kissed him. “I do, most definitely.”
Author: thickets
Word Count: 200
Genre: FPS
Pairing: Howard/Vince
Rating: PG
Warning: None
Disclaimer: Boosh belongs to Julian, Noel, and Baby Cow.
Author's Note: Challenge #13, Films. Wherein a lot of words are stupidly contracted to get the word count down to 200. A CHEATER IS ME.
Howard stared at Vince's tightened shoulders, the dejected slope of his back as he sat facing away on the hotel bed. He'd made rather a mess of things, hadn't he?
“Vince, I'm sorry.”
“What have you got to be sorry for? S'my fault, ain't it? I shouldn't've misunderstood.”
“What do you mean, misunderstood?”
A pause. “I thought this weekend was meant to be … y'know, time alone. Just us.”
“It was! It is.” Howard groaned. “I'm the one who should be sorry, Vince. I got carried away.” His eyes drifted over to the bedside table, where his carefully typed and color-coded itinerary still sat, the source of their argument.
With a deep sigh, Vince flopped backwards onto the bed, his arms outspread. “I s'pose … I just wanted to be somewhere nobody knew us.”
“You wanted nobody to know who you were?” Howard asked warily and skeptically.
Vince grinned, a little shyly. “'Cept you … you're the only one who matters.”
Howard climbed onto the bed, pulling Vince against him. “Well … do you want to get lost this weekend?”
Vince smiled, and kissed him. “I do, most definitely.”