Let the Good Times Roll Part 34
Title: Let the Good Times Roll
Author: Concupid
Pairing: Howard/Vince
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: angst, sappiness, explicit sex
Summary: The boys spend one more night in the Big Easy.
Author's note: I know, I suck. I've honestly been stuck on this chapter for weeks. Real life... uninspiring to say the least.
Howard rubbed at his neck and upper back. He was still in pain from the 'surgery' Naboo had performed to remove his tracking device.
"Quit fussing with it," Vince mumbled, half-asleep, "S'not gonna heal with you picking at it."
Howard gave a guilty start, and automatically apologized. Vince laughed and opened his eyes.
"I'd make a good mum, Howard," Vince said, waggling his fingers in Howard's face. "You outta put a ring on my finger before I slip away."
If Howard could simply buy a ring to hold Vince at his side for all eternity, he would have made that purchase years ago.
"It's itchy." He hated the whine in his voice. Vince had a way of bringing out the best and the worst in Howard Moon.
Vince immediately looked concerned, like Howard having an itch was the worst thing he could imagine.
"Do you want another ice pack? More of that numbing stuff Naboo gave us?"
The itching wound was about the only thing keeping Howard from losing his mind. Every time he closed his eyes, he saw cave walls and smelled brackish water. He could feel sharp nails digging into his back, leaving the kind of wounds you could hide a tracking device in.
"I'm fine," he lied. Vince looked unconvinced. He stroked Howard's hair and looked so serious, it hurt Howard's heart.
Howard was feeling half out of his mind with fear and pain, but he still got hard as soon as Vince started to caress his hair. It was becoming embarrassing. He'd been a virgin for so long and now...
Vince giggled, "I can tell when you're thinking about sex. You go all pink."
Howard closed his eyes and groaned while Vince wrapped himself around Howard, pressing his erection to Howard's stomach.
"You'll never be hornier than me, Howard. I got a libido like a fourteen-year-old boy... Still."
Vince's laugh faltered and he looked away. Howard tried to hold him tightly without crushing his ribs. He still felt awkward and clumsy when he held his waifish friend, and it didn't help that Vince was so much more experienced. Howard didn't want to know how he measured up to Vince's other partners in terms of skill, and yet he didn't feel ashamed of his fumbling. What Howard had to offer was exactly what Vince apparently wanted, unconditional (if slightly unhinged) love.
They were already nearly naked, not having any pajamas or even a change of clothing. They had shyly stripped down to their underclothes, with their backs to one another, before climbing into bed. Howard knew it was silly, they'd been less shy before they'd been intimate, but Howard was feeling overly exposed and Vince was an emotional sponge. The more crushing self-doubt and self-loathing that came from Howard, the harder it was for Vince to be his usual, sparkly self. It made Howard feel worse about himself, but also determined to hide those unhappy feelings. Vince deserved more for his generosity than to take on all of Howard's shame and misery.
"What would you like, Howard?" Vince whispered into his ear, "Tell me what will make you feel good."
Howard thought of Vince's dream, and how it felt to have Vince wrapped around and inside him.
"Remember the dream, with the fire extinguisher?" Howard asked, staring at the ceiling.
Vince went stiff (and not in the good way) making Howard immediately regret his words. Even as he fantasized about being held and... comforted, he could imagine why Vince would be hesitant. Given the tension in his body, it seemed like Vince might have a panic attack right along with Howard.
"Believe me, Howard," Vince sighed, "I would love to... you know. I mean, that would be amazin'..."
"Forget I said it," Howard snapped, embarrassment making his tone gruff. He tried to pat Vince's head in a reassuring way, but the touch was distinctly less "there, there" than "good dog" in its awkward delivery.
"I am NEVER going to forget you said it," Vince teased, poking Howard in the ribs, "And someday, I am going to take you up on that offer. I just don't think today is the day."
Howard felt tears stinging in his eyes. He wanted to blame it on the healing wound on his back and not on the humiliation of the strip search. He could feel Vince's misery through the whole ordeal. Vince never batted an eye when people called him a woman, but he'd gone pale when some dick security guard called him Howard's "little friend." Misery was Howard's shadow, but it was falling on Vince.
"Got an idea, Howard. Scoot up a bit., so your back is against the wall," Vince suggested as he jumped off the bed to grab the spare pillows and linens. "We'll prop you up to protect your injury."
Howard allowed himself to be positioned, feeling a bit ridiculous as Vince tucked him into a pile of pillows. It was comfortable, Howard had to admit, but he had no bloody idea where Vince was going with his little scheme. He rather hoped sex was still on the table. His jarring day had left him feeling at loose ends and a bit wobbly. He craved the feeling of being held and held together.
Vince grabbed his now half-empty jar of expensive face cream and quickly pulled off his pants before crawling into Howard's lap. He straddled Howard so they were face-to-face, and gave him a lingering kiss. It was nice, but it was even nicer when Vince pulled a sheet around his shoulders like a cape. When he moved back in for a kiss, his sheet fell around Howard. It was like getting a hug from a butterfly. A sexy, naked butterfly.
"This way you can feel all snug and safe," Vince explained, "without putting pressure on your wound. Genius!"
"I think you might be," Howard agreed as he tucked the sheet around him. The mild humiliation of needing to be tucked in like a child in order to shag was nothing compared to the warm feeling of being cocooned.
"Maybe I'll turn into a butterfly, too."
He didn't intend to say it out loud; his brain still wasn't working quite right. He'd have to mention it to Naboo.
Vince looked confused , but then smiled.
"The only caterpillar I see is sitting on your upper lip."
"I'll have you know it takes a baker's dozen of caterpillars to form this handsome 'tache," Howard growled. "Took a month's hard training to get them to stay in place."
"You're brown and hairy and you got skinny legs, but you ain't a caterpillar, Howard," Vince explained as he stroked Howard's hair. It was close enough to a compliment to make Howard smile.
Howard did little but stay out of the way and stare as Vince handled everything with ease. Vince blushed as he stretched himself for Howard, even as he moaned and bit his lip. Howard wasn't sure how much of it was sincere pleasure and how much it was a show put on for Howard's benefit. Vince had a remarkable ability to fake happiness, even to himself. If there was anyone who could convince himself to be happy with the consolation prize of Howard Moon, it was Vince Noir.
"I'm thrilled for anything," Howard mentioned, trying to sound casual, "So don't feel you have to... you know."
Vince rolled his eyes, "I do it 'cause I like it, you berk. I'll let you know if I start to get sore."
"No you won't."
The statement clearly caught Vince off guard. He looked guilty and chewed on his thumb nail while avoiding Howard's eyes for a bit before answering.
"If it really hurts, I'll tell you so you'll spoil me. I always tell you when I need a bit of coddling."
It might have been a half-truth, but it was a truth nonetheless. Vince had always sought out Howard when he had a hang nail or a tummy ache, pleading for tea and sympathy (and biscuits). Howard pulled Vince to his chest and they held each other tight as Vince lowered himself onto Howard's cock. The sheet made Vince a little more awkward than usual, and Howard found it charming and more than a little bit soothing. It made him feel less like the child in a man's body he'd been all his life. Vince was the only person who looked at him and saw a respectable adult. Where everyone else seemed to see failure, Vince graded on a curve. He knew what Howard's life had been like, and was proud of Howard for his humble accomplishments. Vince understood the importance of context.
Vince kept up a stream of chatter as he slowly ground himself onto Howard.
"So, good, Howard. Genius. Oh, Howard."
Howard knew he wasn't doing much to earn Vince's half articulated praise, and that he wasn't likely to develop those kinds of skills any time soon. Instead of focusing on his deficiencies or trying to convince himself that his sorry abilities were somehow impressive (his go-to reactions for most situations), Howard focused on the one thing he knew he had to offer: an encyclopedic knowledge of Vince Noir's weak spots.
He kissed the spot on Vince's neck that made him go all shuddery and told him his hair looked beautiful. Wrapped in their sheet, Vince rode Howard with the kind of honest enthusiasm that was absent from the porn of Howard's youth (or Bob Fossil's browser history). Howard licked the salty sweat from Vince's chest and complimented his makeup. It wasn't false praise, the debauched smearing of the carefully applied cosmetics was truly beautiful - proof that Vince wasn't just pulling shapes for Howard. With all his attention focused on exciting Vince, Howard was able to stay focused and centered when his brain should have been short-circuiting. Even when Vince innocently asked, "Do you love me?", Howard only allowed Old Gregg one moment of thought.
Even that single moment was enough to bring Vince's excitement to a halt. As he stroked Howard's hair and apologized, Howard created a mental checklist of everything he'd ever been too afraid to tell Vince, and then said it. Vince immediately began moving again, kissing Howard's face but leaving his mouth free to continue his litany of lovelorn devotion.
By the time he got to, "The reason I didn't run away from Eleanor when you didn't rescue me right away is I thought maybe you were watching. I was hoping you might think it was sexy," Vince was crying, but his mascara was still in tact.
Author: Concupid
Pairing: Howard/Vince
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: angst, sappiness, explicit sex
Summary: The boys spend one more night in the Big Easy.
Author's note: I know, I suck. I've honestly been stuck on this chapter for weeks. Real life... uninspiring to say the least.
Howard rubbed at his neck and upper back. He was still in pain from the 'surgery' Naboo had performed to remove his tracking device.
"Quit fussing with it," Vince mumbled, half-asleep, "S'not gonna heal with you picking at it."
Howard gave a guilty start, and automatically apologized. Vince laughed and opened his eyes.
"I'd make a good mum, Howard," Vince said, waggling his fingers in Howard's face. "You outta put a ring on my finger before I slip away."
If Howard could simply buy a ring to hold Vince at his side for all eternity, he would have made that purchase years ago.
"It's itchy." He hated the whine in his voice. Vince had a way of bringing out the best and the worst in Howard Moon.
Vince immediately looked concerned, like Howard having an itch was the worst thing he could imagine.
"Do you want another ice pack? More of that numbing stuff Naboo gave us?"
The itching wound was about the only thing keeping Howard from losing his mind. Every time he closed his eyes, he saw cave walls and smelled brackish water. He could feel sharp nails digging into his back, leaving the kind of wounds you could hide a tracking device in.
"I'm fine," he lied. Vince looked unconvinced. He stroked Howard's hair and looked so serious, it hurt Howard's heart.
Howard was feeling half out of his mind with fear and pain, but he still got hard as soon as Vince started to caress his hair. It was becoming embarrassing. He'd been a virgin for so long and now...
Vince giggled, "I can tell when you're thinking about sex. You go all pink."
Howard closed his eyes and groaned while Vince wrapped himself around Howard, pressing his erection to Howard's stomach.
"You'll never be hornier than me, Howard. I got a libido like a fourteen-year-old boy... Still."
Vince's laugh faltered and he looked away. Howard tried to hold him tightly without crushing his ribs. He still felt awkward and clumsy when he held his waifish friend, and it didn't help that Vince was so much more experienced. Howard didn't want to know how he measured up to Vince's other partners in terms of skill, and yet he didn't feel ashamed of his fumbling. What Howard had to offer was exactly what Vince apparently wanted, unconditional (if slightly unhinged) love.
They were already nearly naked, not having any pajamas or even a change of clothing. They had shyly stripped down to their underclothes, with their backs to one another, before climbing into bed. Howard knew it was silly, they'd been less shy before they'd been intimate, but Howard was feeling overly exposed and Vince was an emotional sponge. The more crushing self-doubt and self-loathing that came from Howard, the harder it was for Vince to be his usual, sparkly self. It made Howard feel worse about himself, but also determined to hide those unhappy feelings. Vince deserved more for his generosity than to take on all of Howard's shame and misery.
"What would you like, Howard?" Vince whispered into his ear, "Tell me what will make you feel good."
Howard thought of Vince's dream, and how it felt to have Vince wrapped around and inside him.
"Remember the dream, with the fire extinguisher?" Howard asked, staring at the ceiling.
Vince went stiff (and not in the good way) making Howard immediately regret his words. Even as he fantasized about being held and... comforted, he could imagine why Vince would be hesitant. Given the tension in his body, it seemed like Vince might have a panic attack right along with Howard.
"Believe me, Howard," Vince sighed, "I would love to... you know. I mean, that would be amazin'..."
"Forget I said it," Howard snapped, embarrassment making his tone gruff. He tried to pat Vince's head in a reassuring way, but the touch was distinctly less "there, there" than "good dog" in its awkward delivery.
"I am NEVER going to forget you said it," Vince teased, poking Howard in the ribs, "And someday, I am going to take you up on that offer. I just don't think today is the day."
Howard felt tears stinging in his eyes. He wanted to blame it on the healing wound on his back and not on the humiliation of the strip search. He could feel Vince's misery through the whole ordeal. Vince never batted an eye when people called him a woman, but he'd gone pale when some dick security guard called him Howard's "little friend." Misery was Howard's shadow, but it was falling on Vince.
"Got an idea, Howard. Scoot up a bit., so your back is against the wall," Vince suggested as he jumped off the bed to grab the spare pillows and linens. "We'll prop you up to protect your injury."
Howard allowed himself to be positioned, feeling a bit ridiculous as Vince tucked him into a pile of pillows. It was comfortable, Howard had to admit, but he had no bloody idea where Vince was going with his little scheme. He rather hoped sex was still on the table. His jarring day had left him feeling at loose ends and a bit wobbly. He craved the feeling of being held and held together.
Vince grabbed his now half-empty jar of expensive face cream and quickly pulled off his pants before crawling into Howard's lap. He straddled Howard so they were face-to-face, and gave him a lingering kiss. It was nice, but it was even nicer when Vince pulled a sheet around his shoulders like a cape. When he moved back in for a kiss, his sheet fell around Howard. It was like getting a hug from a butterfly. A sexy, naked butterfly.
"This way you can feel all snug and safe," Vince explained, "without putting pressure on your wound. Genius!"
"I think you might be," Howard agreed as he tucked the sheet around him. The mild humiliation of needing to be tucked in like a child in order to shag was nothing compared to the warm feeling of being cocooned.
"Maybe I'll turn into a butterfly, too."
He didn't intend to say it out loud; his brain still wasn't working quite right. He'd have to mention it to Naboo.
Vince looked confused , but then smiled.
"The only caterpillar I see is sitting on your upper lip."
"I'll have you know it takes a baker's dozen of caterpillars to form this handsome 'tache," Howard growled. "Took a month's hard training to get them to stay in place."
"You're brown and hairy and you got skinny legs, but you ain't a caterpillar, Howard," Vince explained as he stroked Howard's hair. It was close enough to a compliment to make Howard smile.
Howard did little but stay out of the way and stare as Vince handled everything with ease. Vince blushed as he stretched himself for Howard, even as he moaned and bit his lip. Howard wasn't sure how much of it was sincere pleasure and how much it was a show put on for Howard's benefit. Vince had a remarkable ability to fake happiness, even to himself. If there was anyone who could convince himself to be happy with the consolation prize of Howard Moon, it was Vince Noir.
"I'm thrilled for anything," Howard mentioned, trying to sound casual, "So don't feel you have to... you know."
Vince rolled his eyes, "I do it 'cause I like it, you berk. I'll let you know if I start to get sore."
"No you won't."
The statement clearly caught Vince off guard. He looked guilty and chewed on his thumb nail while avoiding Howard's eyes for a bit before answering.
"If it really hurts, I'll tell you so you'll spoil me. I always tell you when I need a bit of coddling."
It might have been a half-truth, but it was a truth nonetheless. Vince had always sought out Howard when he had a hang nail or a tummy ache, pleading for tea and sympathy (and biscuits). Howard pulled Vince to his chest and they held each other tight as Vince lowered himself onto Howard's cock. The sheet made Vince a little more awkward than usual, and Howard found it charming and more than a little bit soothing. It made him feel less like the child in a man's body he'd been all his life. Vince was the only person who looked at him and saw a respectable adult. Where everyone else seemed to see failure, Vince graded on a curve. He knew what Howard's life had been like, and was proud of Howard for his humble accomplishments. Vince understood the importance of context.
Vince kept up a stream of chatter as he slowly ground himself onto Howard.
"So, good, Howard. Genius. Oh, Howard."
Howard knew he wasn't doing much to earn Vince's half articulated praise, and that he wasn't likely to develop those kinds of skills any time soon. Instead of focusing on his deficiencies or trying to convince himself that his sorry abilities were somehow impressive (his go-to reactions for most situations), Howard focused on the one thing he knew he had to offer: an encyclopedic knowledge of Vince Noir's weak spots.
He kissed the spot on Vince's neck that made him go all shuddery and told him his hair looked beautiful. Wrapped in their sheet, Vince rode Howard with the kind of honest enthusiasm that was absent from the porn of Howard's youth (or Bob Fossil's browser history). Howard licked the salty sweat from Vince's chest and complimented his makeup. It wasn't false praise, the debauched smearing of the carefully applied cosmetics was truly beautiful - proof that Vince wasn't just pulling shapes for Howard. With all his attention focused on exciting Vince, Howard was able to stay focused and centered when his brain should have been short-circuiting. Even when Vince innocently asked, "Do you love me?", Howard only allowed Old Gregg one moment of thought.
Even that single moment was enough to bring Vince's excitement to a halt. As he stroked Howard's hair and apologized, Howard created a mental checklist of everything he'd ever been too afraid to tell Vince, and then said it. Vince immediately began moving again, kissing Howard's face but leaving his mouth free to continue his litany of lovelorn devotion.
By the time he got to, "The reason I didn't run away from Eleanor when you didn't rescue me right away is I thought maybe you were watching. I was hoping you might think it was sexy," Vince was crying, but his mascara was still in tact.