Fic; Sultanas
Title: Sultanas
Genre: RPS
Pairing: Noel/Julian
Rating: 15
Word Count: 627
Summary: A phone call - inspired by last week's Buzzcocks.
Warnings: No Sex!
The phone rang less than ten seconds after the programme ended. Noel looked at the phone and rather wondered if the doorbell might go if he didn’t bother answering. He answered.
“You’re a little hussy, aren’t you?”
“Sorry?” Noel asked, a little alarmed.
“I saw you checking out Minchin’s arse when he walked across the room.”
“Excuse me? Like fuck you did. He’s a nice little man all-”
“A nice little man?”
“Fuck off, Barratt.” Noel hung up. He was smiling but, also, a bit wounded. For half a second. Minchin was… well, he was cute. Him and the one-love-of-his-life-who-he was-still-with-and-adorably-in-love-with-in-a-non-sickening-manner, which-
The phone rang.
Noel let it ring.
When the answer machine kicked in, Julian hung up. Then he called back.
Noel answered. “What?”
“I wanted to tell him you’re mine.” Julian’s voice was husky. Sexy. Noel began to wish the older man was with him.
“I’m pretty sure he would’ve been alright with that,” Noel said. He could tell his smile was resonating into his voice.
“I wanted to tell you that you’re mine. Only mine.”
“Very confident about that aren’t you?”
“Yup. I’m not letting you go.”
“Suppose.”
“You’re my family; you know that right?”
“What? Don’t say that, I can’t be dealing with incest.”
“I didn’t mean that… I mean, it’s like you’re… my bitch.”
“Really? I’ve got to say, I’m really not seeing that.”
“It’s so clear, Noely. I mean, you’re just one of my bitches, let’s be honest.”
“If I’m a bitch, I’m the queen alright? I’m not having you doing bitch chess and just stomping around collecting us all up.”
“That’s drafts, not chess.”
“I don’t give a shit, you know what I mean. I’m part of no man’s harem.”
“I’m a bit more like an equal opportunities free lover than a… harem keeper.”
“You’re a cheap date then?”
“Pretty much.”
“Free love, but not if it includes me checking out someone’s arse?”
“My arse is better.”
Noel found himself grinning. That one was, at least, hard to disagree with. “Do I get a collar to wear and walk around in? Seeing as I’m your bitch.”
“Stop putting thoughts in my head.”
“I want to pick the colour.”
“Just the colour?”
“Dunno. Whatever shouts that I belong to a slutty fella from Leeds. Bit hard to pick a colour that says that really. Still, nice to know someone wants me.”
“Lots of people want you. Even if you don’t want them. And you know that if you fell in love again, I would-”
“Pout and cry like a girl?”
“Fuck off.”
“Shall I?”
“No.”
“…”
“Just… don’t be getting off with people on telly alright?” Julian was sounding a little exasperated. “It’s… hard. Not just for me either.”
Noel sighed. “I was more likely to get off with the Noisette. You know that don’t you?”
“Like fuck! You’re as queer as they come.” Julian’s voice was getting quicker, a tone or too higher and a whole lot funnier. “If Minchin had have offered, you’d have let him-”
“Stop feeding Minchin into your sordid little fantasies.”
“Fine. If I was in his shoes, I’d have had you under that desk sucking my dick whilst the Noisytit was doing Simon and Garfunkel intro’s at us.”
“You’ve gone wrong.”
“Deny you wouldn’t like to hide underneath that little desk and-”
“Like I’d be the one under there. As if! You’d be sucking me off while I guessed the next line.”
“What? With every next line being, ‘oh harder, please, love you Julian, do it to me harder’.”
“Like I said, you’d be sucking me off,” Noel announced triumphantly.
“Queer.”
“Bottom.”
“Hussy.”
“Slut.”
“Goin’ to bed.”
“Fine.”
“You were good tonight, on the show, yeah?”
“Thanks mate.”
“Sleep, you arrogant tart.”
“You too, Northern slag.”