The Cupid of Camden The End
Title: The Cupid of Camden
Author: Concupid
Pairing: Howard/Vince
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: a little angst, fairly graphic sex, swearing, referenced violence, sappiness
Summary: Bath tub confessions and, you know, bath tub times!
Author's note: This should be two chapters but I couldn't find a natural breaking point and my brain will break if I don't post this today so, here it is! Thanks for your patience, gentle readers.
Howard nearly strangled himself with his own rollneck. Getting out of his clothing seemed a Herculean task made all the more difficult by Vince's unblinking stare.
There was no reason to be self-conscious, it wasn't like Vince had never seen him in his pants before. They'd had a Satsuma fight only the week earlier.
"Howard?"
Howard stopped in the middle of pulling off a sock, "What is it? Have you changed your mind? That's fine. I left the kettle on..."
Howard ran to the kitchen while Vince yelled a combination of requests to return and assorted insults.
Howard turned off the kettle. This was happening. Vince wanted this.
Vince said he'd always wanted this.
"Howard, please come back, ya big, stupid berk! Seriously, Howard. Come back so we can talk... or I'm coming out there all wet and naked to beat you senseless with your own shoe, you small-eyed bastard!"
Once again, Vince was sending him mixed signals.
Howard sheepishly poked his head back into the bathroom, Vince was resting his chin on the edge of the oversized tub. His make-up was smeared and his black hair clung to his face. He looked like a drowned rat with great big, blue eyes. A drowned rat by Walt Disney.
"Don't leave again," Vince ordered in a pouty voice.
"I won't. Turned the stove off. I am ready for... a bath," Howard assured him. He was still wearing one sock, his vest and pants. He pulled off the sock.
"Howard?"
"Yeah?" Howard asked, really trying to focus on the sock. It was looking a bit worn, he might want to buy new ones...
"You look good," Vince said quietly as Howard pulled his vest off over his head, "I'm not good with words but, I don't want you to think that you don't look good. Because you do."
Howard kicked off his pants and climbed in the tub, not actually touching Vince in any way and staring in the opposite direction, his arms wrapped protectively across his chest. Even Howard knew he was doing everything wrong, you were meant to look at someone when you wanted sex. The tub was one of those Jacuzzi types that belonged in a whore house or in America. Normally, Howard thought it was gaudy and excessive. Right now, he was grateful for the extra room.
"It weren't a plan or nothin'," Vince said quietly, "The dress and the drinks and the proposal and the snogging in the restaurant, oh, and the snogging in the park: that were all a plan but not the love potion. I just grabbed the first ring that fit me."
"Vince, I never thought you were trying to pull something," Howard sighed, "You're being silly."
"I thought if I dressed all the way like a girl and you had some drinks and then gave a speech about loving me and then we snogged that maybe you'd want to..."
"Take a bath with you?" Howard deadpanned, receiving a splash in return.
"I always fancied you, you know?" Vince chuckled, his eyes fixed straight ahead, "Right from when I first saw you and you looked at me like I just crawled out from under a rock. I just wanted you to smile at me. I remember bein' really afraid of getting off with a guy back then but I decided I would go home with you that night if it meant you would like me. Why do you think I felt like that when I didn't even know you?"
"A brain aneurism?" Howard suggested, only half-joking.
Vince nudged Howard with his elbow, "You let me take you for ice cream. You must have liked me a little."
"I liked you a little," Howard agreed, Vince had never seemed so... close. No one had ever been that close, "I thought you were pretty and funny."
"Did you wish I was a girl?" Vince asked as his hand covered Howard's.
Howard shook his head no. He was staring at the wall, unable to even look in Vince's direction.
"Did you like boys? Did you ever think about boys like that?"
Howard nodded.
"You did not!" Vince cried, "You were so straight, you made rulers look slouchy and unreliable. You never looked at a boy before me."
Howard smiled, "There was a boy at school when I was fourteen. I guess he fancied me and he tried to kiss me..."
"I'm NOT the first guy to come after your hot pumpkin ass?" Vince asked with sincere surprise, "The world has gone wrong, Howard."
"I ran away. Literally, ran away from him and hid in my room and worried all night."
Vince laughed and rested his head on Howard's shoulder, "What happened after that?"
"He told everyone at school that I tried to get off with him."
It hurt to talk about but it was an old, reasonably well-healed wound. Barely a dull ache in his chest.
"Why would he do that?" Vince asked with his usual wide-eyed naivety before realization dawned, "Oh. Oh! What a wanker! You wouldn't've told no one."
"He was scared. He was scared of what would happen if I told so he..."
"Threw you under the bus?"
"More or less," Howard sighed, "It was a long time ago..."
"Did you get hassled?" Vince had moved in front of Howard, making it hard not to meet his eyes. He glanced at Vince's naked form, barely concealed with bubbles.
Vince is already tracing one of the thin scars on his shoulder, his forehead creased in concentration.
"I got 'hassled'. I dropped out after that," he decided to skip over his father's reaction, "and I went to work at the zoo with the fake birth certificate I spent weeks on and on which I did not use crayon..."
Vince laughed, "I thought you were so smart and mature. I never thought you were just another punk like me."
Howard's eyes didn't know where to look. Vince was really rather close.
Vince leaned in closer, until Howard could feel his breath on his face.
"There's a scar under your mustache. Is that why you grew it?"
Howard nodded slowly, time seemed to be slowing down.
Vince's lips closed over his in a gentle and chaste kiss.
"You wanna put Bollo on a lead and we'll go track this guy down?" Vince suggested with wink.
"He was just a kid, a scared kid. We'll save Bollo for James."
Vince's shoulders slumped, "Let's not talk about that."
Howard nodded in agreement. He didn't really want to remember handsome James with his apparently zero percent body fat.
"It wasn't like Cupid said..."
"I never thought... Don't worry about Cupid, he's a prinkle."
"You can't say that about Cupid!" Vince cried, "Howard! One arrow in the bum and you'll be trying to get off with Bob Fossil. You can't be vexing Cupid."
Howard wondered if it was possible to go just a little redder...
"I never done that either," Vince offered.
"Vexed Cupid?"
"Bummin'. I know you probably think..."
Vince was cut off my Howard's mouth being jammed against his. It was less of a kiss than collision of lips but, as with his jacket, Vince knew how to turn it into something beautiful. Howard was just getting the hang of breathing through his nose while his mouth was occupied when Vince took things a big step forward. It was the second time that night Vince's hand had been on his cock and yet it was almost his instantaneous undoing.
Howard gripped Vince's hand in place, "I'm sorry, Little Man, I don't think this is going to be very interesting for you..."
Vince kissed the scar under Howard's chin, "S'all right, Howard. It ain't a contest."
Vince's hand began to move again and Howard tried to think of the Human League.
"'Sides," Vince added, "It's sexy to see you come... oh."
Howard was as shocked as Vince by just how quickly he lost control. He was getting worse with practice. He closed his eyes, waited for Vince to stop giggling, and mumbled some vague apologies.
"Don't be sorry, Howard. It's so nice to have you..." Vince descended into a fit of giggles as he pressed his forehead to Howard's, "I makes me nervous to talk like this! I'm not good at serious talk. It makes me go red. I can't be romantic the way you want. I'm sorry 'bout that but I do care, you know. I do feel that."
Howard's brain was sluggish and Vince was talking so fast. He wrapped his arms around Vince and pulled his slight frame into a tight hug. It forced Vince to straddle Howard awkwardly but it felt good to be so close and, this way, he didn't have to actually look at Vince. Eye contact is difficult enough for Howard on a regular basis but now? He was going to end up like Lester, pretending to be blind so he can wear dark glasses indoors.
"What would you... Just tell me what to do, Little Man."
All he could see was Vince's neck and back (and an occasional glimpse of arse) but he could see that neck going red. Vince didn't answer but he pulled away enough to root through a drawer near the tub and eventually held up some petroleum jelly.
Howard tried to take deep breath but all he could manage was a wheeze. He relaxed a tiny bit when he realized Vince is using the lubricant on himself.
Then he thought about what Vince wanted from him and all the ways he could fail.
"James always wanted to but... I couldn't trust him. Sometimes he was rough, you know? He was always sayin' it would be like it was y..." Vince stopped short, looking embarrassed but then he sighed, "You know, right? You know James was... once he saw you and... I was stupid, Howard. I'm sorry."
Howard needed a map to follow Vince's ellipses but he was starting to get the picture. James had manipulated Vince with his superficial resemblance to Howard, it just wasn't quite the way Howard had imagined. It was a thought far too big too fit inside the bath tub, one that Howard would have to revisit at a quieter time.
Howard held Vince, lightly, as Vince continued his awkward preparations. There was no way he was asking - he couldn't use any of the appropriate terminology without immediately leaving the country and starting life anew - so he opted to be a man of action. He gently batted Vince's hand away. Vince went tense in his arms as Howard took a generous amount of petroleum jelly and reached below the water.
The muscles were disturbingly tight. It was a job to get one finger inside but the shuddery sigh he got from Vince made it time well spent. He moved his digit slowly, in and out, until Vince's body felt a little more welcoming. Vince told him when to add a second finger, and a third.
"Twist them 'round a bit," Vince whispered between kisses, his voice all shuddery and deep. Howard happily followed every request. He couldn't be sure if it had been ten minutes or an hour but it was more than long enough for him to be hard again. Hard and hopefully ready for a more impressive performance.
"Kay, Howard? Are you ready?"
Howard nodded but as Vince began lowering himself, it was clear he had been very wrong. He would never be ready for this. Vince was wide-eyed, his mouth hanging open as he rocked his hips - taking Howard in slowly.
Howard's leg was beginning to cramp in their awkward position. When he moved his leg a little, Vince slipped a bit and his face registered pain.
"Sorry, Vince, sorry. We can stop right now, I'm sorry..."
"Don't be mental, Howard," Vince whispered as he began rocking his hips again, "Don't have to be perfect and it's so... what's the word?"
"Perfect?' Howard offered, rewarded with a throaty chuckle from Vince.
"Yeah. It don't have to be perfect to be...oh, for the love of Jagger... perfect."
Howard shyly ran his free hand down Vince's chest, over his stomach and finally between his legs. Vince was only half hard but he quickly came to full attention under Howard's touch. Vince was just as Howard expected he would be: gentle, responsive and so very beautiful. Howard's own awkwardness and fumbling were also living up to his expectations but Vince showed no sign of minding. After getting Howard off twice, he seemed content to continue focusing on Howard's needs. All the little hiccoughs in their friendship, like last week when Vince accidentally sold Howard to a leprechaun in exchange for some glittery blue eyeliner, paled in comparison to the easy and unqualified love that came with Vince's friendship.
He tried to remember what Vince had done at the park and began adding a little brush over the head with his thumb each time he stroked Vince's cock.
Vince whimpered and rocked a little faster, moving his way down until Howard was as deep as humanly possible.
Howard braced himself against the tub so he could thrust upwards, causing Vince's eyes to not quite cross, but definitely go a bit wonky.
Vince responded by digging his fingers into Howard's shoulders and riding him hard, with no apparent concern for the water splashing on to the floor. Howard tried to match his pace as he took in the rather astonishing site of Vince Noir, naked and sweaty. They could clean up the water later.
Howard would clean up the water but Vince would be there, watching, equal parts bored and impressed that Howard knew how to clean up a watery mess.
Vince's fingers tangled in Howard's hair and he was panting between messy kisses, "Almost... there... Don't... stop..."
Howard decided to focus his efforts, he was rubbish at multi-tasking. He stroked Vince with increasing speed, not worrying if his kisses resembled that of a over-excited puppy (all teeth and slobber), until Vince's cock pulsed in his hand and their tub water became even less hygienic. How had Howard gone for so long only thinking of a bath tub as a place to get clean? He'd been so naive.
Vince let out a sobbing noise as he came then he said, "I want you to come inside of me, Howard. Is that all right?"
There was no need for a verbal response. Howard held Vince's hips still as his brain shut down for a few blissful seconds. The French called it a little death. How fucking French of them.
Vince was panting into Howard's shoulder, his own thin shoulders looking so pale and fragile that Howard felt compelled to hold him tightly - to protect him from roving gangs of bathroom thugs or perhaps an aggressive spigot.
"All right, Little Man?"
"I don't want this to be a one time thing," Vince said in a small voice, rubbing his face against Howard's shoulder, "I don't want to not talk about it again or pretend it was because of the potion. I want this to be forever."
Vince found yet another thin scar to fuss over. He'd asked about the scars years ago, when they'd been fresher and less healed. He never seemed to question Howard's explanation that they had been the result of jazz related street fights. Vince tended to take people at their word.
"Well," Howard said, his voice a little shaky, "We are engaged. There's a whole restaurant of witnesses..."
Vince giggled, "That's right! I can have you in court for breech of..."
"Contract."
"Yeah, that, if you try and back out. And you need to buy me a proper ring, one that ain't hollow."
Howard took Vince's hand and examined the ring. It would be fitted with a proper gem. Another thought far too large for a bathtub. He'd have to revisit that a bit later as well.
"Howard! Why didn't you tell me I looked a mess?" Vince wailed as he caught sight of himself in the reflective surface of the tap, "I don't want you thinkin' 'bout how I looked like a raccoon the first time we, you know..."
"Made love?" Howard offered. There seemed little point in trying to feign sophistication or urbane detachment at this point. He'd offered up his heart for derision and had instead been rewarded with amazing, bath tub sex. Easier to train than any of Pavlov's pups, Howard was already re-thinking his entire stance on romance. His first brush with the love that dare not speak its name had resulted in beatings, leaving school early and being treated like a stranger in the home where he was raised but this second experience was going quite a bit better.
Vince scrubbed at his smudged make-up, "Yeah. That."
Howard had always assumed Vince chose not to discuss things like love and romance in deference to Howard's lack of experience with either. Now he wondered why Vince was so at ease with the exchange of bodily fluids but went red at any mention of romance. They had so much left to learn about each other.
"I thought the best thing was just to be alone," Howard said, pulling Vince back into his arms, "Tommy didn't give a toss about anything but the zoo. I wanted to be like him but you wouldn't let me keep to myself."
"I was like a glittery parasite, hanging on ya day an' night. A tick in lip gloss, giving you lemon disease."
"Lyme disease," Howard automatically corrected, Vince's half-hidden but cheeky smile telling him the mistake was on purpose - just another plea for attention even as they were naked and holding one another, "I don't like to think where I'd be now if you hadn't come along."
"Probably married to some brainy girl with a bunch of brainy kids wearing cardigans. The jazz fusion version of the Von Trapp family."
Later, he would tell Vince all the reasons that was not a likely scenario but this wasn't the time and it certainly wasn't the place. They were getting all pruney.
"Good thing it wasn't Gideon since her husband showed up, again," Vince observed, "That would have been well awkward. I always thought Derek Gideon was all right, you know? Well brainy and brave and handsome and all those things girls are meant to like. How come she don't look very happy that he came back?"
Howard squeezed Vince tightly, "Thank you."
"For what?" Vince wheezed. Howard loosened his grip.
"I thought I was imagining things. She really didn't look happy, did she?"
Vince pulled back and gave Howard a big, tight grin - his eyes darting back and forth, "I'm so... happy? my husband is back. I really... missed him?"
It was an exaggeration and Howard felt guilty for laughing but, Vince was right. He was sure that Mrs. Gideon loved her husband in her own way but, she always seemed happier on her own. Howard wondered how much of his crush on Gideon, as with his adoration of Tommy, had been a response to that solitary nature. Howard had always wanted to be happy on his own.
"Not everyone is cut out for married life," Howard observed.
"How 'bout you? You the marryin' type?" Vince asked coquettishly.
"There's a ring on your finger, isn't there?"
Vince held up his hand, "It's gonna fall off soon, my skin is so wrinkley. Promise things won't fall apart once we get out of this tub?"
Vince wouldn't look him in the eye. How could he possibly have doubts at this point?
"You heard Cupid! It'll be months, maybe even years before I return to my senses enough to ruin things," Howard said in his most reassuring tone.
Vince grinned, "Cheers, Howard. I forgot that bit. Let's go get rid of your bed."
Vince was already out of the tub and running towards their room, wet and naked, leaving wet foot prints behind him.
"Why are we getting rid of my bed?" Howard yelled as he clambered out of the tub, his legs full of pins and needles.
"Cause you'll sleep in mine, ya berk. We'll be able to fit another armoire in here and another full length mirror and a mirror above the bed..."
"I don't want to sleep in a brothel designed by Mr. Susan," Howard cried as he wrapped himself in a towel.
"Quit fussin' or I'll get Cupid after you," Vince retorted, "He slipped me his number, ya know."
Howard hadn't known but he wasn't at all surprised. Fucking Cupid.