(no subject)
Title: From the ground up.
Fandom: Mighty Boosh RPS
Pairing: Noel Fielding/Julian Barratt
Rating: R
Summary: Julian fights to save his and Noel's firendship after Noel makes a confession. He fails. For gothimp .
Disclaimer: I don't own Noel Fielding or Julian Barratt, and honestly mean no offense.
The sound of the apartment door slamming is still echoing in Julian's head. His finger traces a raindrop as it slides down the window. It’s pissing down out there and Noel looks freezing as he stands on the street corner, waiting for a bus. He didn't even grab his coat; it’s still lying on the arm of the couch and Julian knows he should take it outside to him.
Tearing his eyes away from the dark street and Noel standing in the cold glow of the street lamp, Julian wanders over to the couch, picking up the green fur-trimmed monstrosity that Noel calls casual wear. Considering, he takes a step to the door, before pulling out his mobile. "Want your coat?" he writes, sending the text to Noel. He could just lean out the window and yell it to him. He doesn't.
Loud in the quiet apartment, Noel's phone starts to buzz in his coat pocket. Julian snorts, and throws the jacket back on the couch, walking back over to the window.
When he looks outside, Noel has already gone.
***
"Thanks," he says, not looking Julian in the eyes as he takes his jacket back. Its ten o'clock, and the sun has come out today, warming the air so it almost feels like summer. "I missed you, you know?"
Julian's head snaps up from where he's staring at the floor. He feels a surge of irritation flood through him, before he sees that Noel is talking to his phone, grinning cheekily. A grin that doesn't reach his eyes in the least.
Julian looks back over his shoulder, pointedly showing he has something he needs to check, feeling entirely too uncomfortable.
"Look Julian," Noel says, one hand coming out to tug lightly at his sleeve. "What I said last night, yeah?"
"You didn't mean it?" Julian's voice is sarcastic, but he turns his gaze back to Noel hopefully. There's a long silence.
"Nah, I meant it. But..."
Julian takes a step backward, Noel's hand dropping from his arm. "I'm busy right now, okay? There's some important.... cheese. In the grill."
"Okay," he says, not even bothering to pull him up on the pathetic excuse, and with a short smile and a wave, steps back from the doorway. "I'll see you though, yeah?"
"Yeah."
The front door closes and Julian walks back to the oven, crouching down to watch the cheese slowly melt over his toast.
***
Due to the fact that Julian doesn't reply to any of Noel's infrequent but persistent texts, it is over a week before they see each other again, and quite by chance.
Noel bounds over to him, across the busy road, dodging traffic in his heels. "Hey!" he calls from one side of the street, and "hey!" again when he falls into step with Julian, just to reiterate his point.
"Hey," Julian replies.
Noel slips his thumbs into his pockets as he saunters along, looking carefree and relaxed. However, Julian knows just from a glance that he is anything but.
"We need to start writing," he chatters. "Get series two going, right? I was thinking, if Rich is going to play Beta-max, what about if..." Noel pauses in his step, waiting for Julian to stop and turn back to look at him, which he does. "Julian?"
"What?" Immediately regretting how harsh his voice sounded, Julian steps forward, looking down at Noel, who seems unhappy. He can't stand it when Noel looks unhappy, it always feels like the world has slipped off its axis a little. Winters going to last 6 months, and summer will be far too blisteringly hot to breath.
"I'm sorry, okay?" Noel mutters, and Julian sighs.
"You don't have to fucking apologise," he says, and steps forward, slinging an arm around Noel's shoulders the way he has a hundred times before, and starts to walk. But it feels wrong now, now that he knows what Noel is thinking. Is he revelling in this? Does he think this means that Julian feels the same?
"Let’s get a coffee," Noel says, nodding his head to a little cafe as they wander down the street. Julian takes the chance to relinquish contact, and hurries forward, into the shop.
"What shall I get you?" he asks as Noel sits at a table right next to the window. Instinctively he has opened the sugar bowl, and is spooning the sweet powder into his palm, throwing his head back as he pours it down his throat. Julian thinks it’s a disgusting habit.
"Cappuccino, thanks," he says, grinning at Julian. "Heavy on the Cappu, or whatever bit is the froth and chocolate."
Julian turns to the counter, and before long he's sitting opposite Noel, sipping at his too-milky tea, and watching his friend spoon froth into his mouth, leaving white flecks at the corners of his lips.
"Is it really chocolate?" Noel asks, trying to keep conversation running, even if it’s one sided. "It's just cocoa, innit? It would be, yeah. But you know, I bet it’s not even that. I bet its grated carob or something, they always go the cheap way for this shit. But carob isn't that cheap, I guess. I see it in organic shops all the time. They're ridiculous, aren't they J'lian?"
Swirling his teaspoon in his drink for no real reason, it takes a moment for Julian to realise that Noel's waiting for him to agree. "Yeah," he says, and takes a long sip of tea.
Noel starts to talk again immediately, about anything he can think of, and Julian drinks slowly, half listening to him. Eventually, pausing in his monologue, he chuckles and reaches a hand out so his fingers graze Julian's cheek.
"What are you doing?" Julian snaps, pulling away from him.
"You just had a bit of fluff in your stubble..." Noel mutters, pulling his hand away quickly. "I wasn't, it’s just... sorry."
There's another long silence. They've never had to worry about awkward silences before, ever. Now they seem to be all they can say.
"Is it still there?" Julian asks eventually, and Noel seems to take that as permission to reach out and pluck the lint from his beard, his fingers lingering longer.
"Is this what you thought I was going to do?" he asks, stroking a line down Julian's jawline to his lip, before pressing his palm tenderly on his cheek.
"Yes. No. Maybe." He sighs, "I don't know."
Noel laughs, and takes his hand away from Julian's face, picking up his coffee and taking a sip. He licks the line of froth from his upper lip. "Because I weren't going to," he says, shifting in his chair. "If I was going to try and come onto you again, I'd probably do something more like this."
Julian looks at him for a moment, confused, before Noel's booted foot finds his leg, running slowly up and down it, before sliding toe-first along the seam of his trousers to slide across his crotch. Julian feels a twitch of arousal - a purely physical reaction - and jumps in his seat with a jolt. "Noel!"
"Hmm?" he queries, his toe still tracing the seam along Julian's now hardening crotch, seemingly smug with the reaction he's achieved.
"What are you doing?"
"I saw it in a porn film once."
It’s so fucking inappropriate, Julian thinks, for so many reasons. It's inappropriate for their friendship, which is looking to be in tatters anyway, and it’s inappropriate for public. But the most inappropriate thing, for Julian, is that he can't bring himself to tell Noel to stop. He can't bring himself to stand up. He can't bring himself to do anything to put an end to it.
And Noel is looking happy. Where, a second ago, his smile was smug, it is now warm and genuine. The world is righting itself in Julian's eyes, at the expense of, what? His dignity? His heterosexuality, which was (Julian readily admits) not really existent in the first place.
It's just, its Noel. The stupid hair, the crooked smile, the tennis shoes he'll only wear on court. All the things that mean so much to Julian, and here they are, rubbing his crotch under the table while those fingers (nails still scratched with tracings of acrylic paint) feed obscene droplets of froth into and around those laughing, smiling, joking lips. All the things that make up his friend, and Julian's heart is thudding loud in his ears, and his heart is breaking because it means there are going to be no more lazy nights with a beer and a repeat viewing of Quadrophenia, and no more relaxed assurance that this is all they are and all they ever have, or ever will, be. So Julian suddenly says, "No," and stands up, moving away from the table.
A drop of cappuccino froth falls from Noel's finger onto the varnished table as Julian walks calmly from the cafe, his trousers tenting.
***
Three minutes, and Noel is running out of the cafe after him. Ten minutes and they're staring at each other on the street corner as the crowd bustles around them. They are as unaware of it as it is of them. Julian is glaring at Noel, and Noel is pleading, persuading Julian.
Fifteen minutes and they are a few meters into a wide alleyway, in no way out of public eye, and Noel's lips are on Julian's neck and their hard cocks are rubbing roughly against each other through their trousers. Julian is staring at the alley wall. Someone has scribbled that they woz 'ere, but Julian doubts their name is really Madcorre.
Pleasure is surging through him with every rough thrust of Noel's erection against his own, and his gaze is slowly blurring and dropping so that his face is buried in Noel's hair, breathing in the smell of shampoo. Noel's tongue runs up the side of his neck, the movement almost jagged as Noel fights to concentrate, his frantic thrusting becoming more erratic. His teeth toy with Julian's earlobe, who uses the sensation to block out the sounds of the bustling street, the titters and shocked gasps of passersby who notice them.
It’s a surprise to Julian, a second later, when he realises he's on the verge of coming. He feels like he's fourteen again, enthusiastically dry humping a girl whose name he can't even remember. She had red hair and always wore jeans, he knows that much. Even in summer.
He lets out a groan and finally moves, thrusting forward against Noel. It feels wrong to become active in this, almost as if he's agreeing to something. However, right now he can't bring himself to care. All he wants to do is come. And come with Noel.
And suddenly Noel tilts his head up and they kiss for the first time, and he does. And Noel comes too, almost simultaneously, the sensation in their bodied pooling in equal parts to their cocks and to their lips.
The kiss is tender, and goes on for a long while after they ride out their orgasms, snogging softly against the alley wall, a group of scene kids jeering them and cheering them from the street.
Fandom: Mighty Boosh RPS
Pairing: Noel Fielding/Julian Barratt
Rating: R
Summary: Julian fights to save his and Noel's firendship after Noel makes a confession. He fails. For gothimp .
Disclaimer: I don't own Noel Fielding or Julian Barratt, and honestly mean no offense.
The sound of the apartment door slamming is still echoing in Julian's head. His finger traces a raindrop as it slides down the window. It’s pissing down out there and Noel looks freezing as he stands on the street corner, waiting for a bus. He didn't even grab his coat; it’s still lying on the arm of the couch and Julian knows he should take it outside to him.
Tearing his eyes away from the dark street and Noel standing in the cold glow of the street lamp, Julian wanders over to the couch, picking up the green fur-trimmed monstrosity that Noel calls casual wear. Considering, he takes a step to the door, before pulling out his mobile. "Want your coat?" he writes, sending the text to Noel. He could just lean out the window and yell it to him. He doesn't.
Loud in the quiet apartment, Noel's phone starts to buzz in his coat pocket. Julian snorts, and throws the jacket back on the couch, walking back over to the window.
When he looks outside, Noel has already gone.
***
"Thanks," he says, not looking Julian in the eyes as he takes his jacket back. Its ten o'clock, and the sun has come out today, warming the air so it almost feels like summer. "I missed you, you know?"
Julian's head snaps up from where he's staring at the floor. He feels a surge of irritation flood through him, before he sees that Noel is talking to his phone, grinning cheekily. A grin that doesn't reach his eyes in the least.
Julian looks back over his shoulder, pointedly showing he has something he needs to check, feeling entirely too uncomfortable.
"Look Julian," Noel says, one hand coming out to tug lightly at his sleeve. "What I said last night, yeah?"
"You didn't mean it?" Julian's voice is sarcastic, but he turns his gaze back to Noel hopefully. There's a long silence.
"Nah, I meant it. But..."
Julian takes a step backward, Noel's hand dropping from his arm. "I'm busy right now, okay? There's some important.... cheese. In the grill."
"Okay," he says, not even bothering to pull him up on the pathetic excuse, and with a short smile and a wave, steps back from the doorway. "I'll see you though, yeah?"
"Yeah."
The front door closes and Julian walks back to the oven, crouching down to watch the cheese slowly melt over his toast.
***
Due to the fact that Julian doesn't reply to any of Noel's infrequent but persistent texts, it is over a week before they see each other again, and quite by chance.
Noel bounds over to him, across the busy road, dodging traffic in his heels. "Hey!" he calls from one side of the street, and "hey!" again when he falls into step with Julian, just to reiterate his point.
"Hey," Julian replies.
Noel slips his thumbs into his pockets as he saunters along, looking carefree and relaxed. However, Julian knows just from a glance that he is anything but.
"We need to start writing," he chatters. "Get series two going, right? I was thinking, if Rich is going to play Beta-max, what about if..." Noel pauses in his step, waiting for Julian to stop and turn back to look at him, which he does. "Julian?"
"What?" Immediately regretting how harsh his voice sounded, Julian steps forward, looking down at Noel, who seems unhappy. He can't stand it when Noel looks unhappy, it always feels like the world has slipped off its axis a little. Winters going to last 6 months, and summer will be far too blisteringly hot to breath.
"I'm sorry, okay?" Noel mutters, and Julian sighs.
"You don't have to fucking apologise," he says, and steps forward, slinging an arm around Noel's shoulders the way he has a hundred times before, and starts to walk. But it feels wrong now, now that he knows what Noel is thinking. Is he revelling in this? Does he think this means that Julian feels the same?
"Let’s get a coffee," Noel says, nodding his head to a little cafe as they wander down the street. Julian takes the chance to relinquish contact, and hurries forward, into the shop.
"What shall I get you?" he asks as Noel sits at a table right next to the window. Instinctively he has opened the sugar bowl, and is spooning the sweet powder into his palm, throwing his head back as he pours it down his throat. Julian thinks it’s a disgusting habit.
"Cappuccino, thanks," he says, grinning at Julian. "Heavy on the Cappu, or whatever bit is the froth and chocolate."
Julian turns to the counter, and before long he's sitting opposite Noel, sipping at his too-milky tea, and watching his friend spoon froth into his mouth, leaving white flecks at the corners of his lips.
"Is it really chocolate?" Noel asks, trying to keep conversation running, even if it’s one sided. "It's just cocoa, innit? It would be, yeah. But you know, I bet it’s not even that. I bet its grated carob or something, they always go the cheap way for this shit. But carob isn't that cheap, I guess. I see it in organic shops all the time. They're ridiculous, aren't they J'lian?"
Swirling his teaspoon in his drink for no real reason, it takes a moment for Julian to realise that Noel's waiting for him to agree. "Yeah," he says, and takes a long sip of tea.
Noel starts to talk again immediately, about anything he can think of, and Julian drinks slowly, half listening to him. Eventually, pausing in his monologue, he chuckles and reaches a hand out so his fingers graze Julian's cheek.
"What are you doing?" Julian snaps, pulling away from him.
"You just had a bit of fluff in your stubble..." Noel mutters, pulling his hand away quickly. "I wasn't, it’s just... sorry."
There's another long silence. They've never had to worry about awkward silences before, ever. Now they seem to be all they can say.
"Is it still there?" Julian asks eventually, and Noel seems to take that as permission to reach out and pluck the lint from his beard, his fingers lingering longer.
"Is this what you thought I was going to do?" he asks, stroking a line down Julian's jawline to his lip, before pressing his palm tenderly on his cheek.
"Yes. No. Maybe." He sighs, "I don't know."
Noel laughs, and takes his hand away from Julian's face, picking up his coffee and taking a sip. He licks the line of froth from his upper lip. "Because I weren't going to," he says, shifting in his chair. "If I was going to try and come onto you again, I'd probably do something more like this."
Julian looks at him for a moment, confused, before Noel's booted foot finds his leg, running slowly up and down it, before sliding toe-first along the seam of his trousers to slide across his crotch. Julian feels a twitch of arousal - a purely physical reaction - and jumps in his seat with a jolt. "Noel!"
"Hmm?" he queries, his toe still tracing the seam along Julian's now hardening crotch, seemingly smug with the reaction he's achieved.
"What are you doing?"
"I saw it in a porn film once."
It’s so fucking inappropriate, Julian thinks, for so many reasons. It's inappropriate for their friendship, which is looking to be in tatters anyway, and it’s inappropriate for public. But the most inappropriate thing, for Julian, is that he can't bring himself to tell Noel to stop. He can't bring himself to stand up. He can't bring himself to do anything to put an end to it.
And Noel is looking happy. Where, a second ago, his smile was smug, it is now warm and genuine. The world is righting itself in Julian's eyes, at the expense of, what? His dignity? His heterosexuality, which was (Julian readily admits) not really existent in the first place.
It's just, its Noel. The stupid hair, the crooked smile, the tennis shoes he'll only wear on court. All the things that mean so much to Julian, and here they are, rubbing his crotch under the table while those fingers (nails still scratched with tracings of acrylic paint) feed obscene droplets of froth into and around those laughing, smiling, joking lips. All the things that make up his friend, and Julian's heart is thudding loud in his ears, and his heart is breaking because it means there are going to be no more lazy nights with a beer and a repeat viewing of Quadrophenia, and no more relaxed assurance that this is all they are and all they ever have, or ever will, be. So Julian suddenly says, "No," and stands up, moving away from the table.
A drop of cappuccino froth falls from Noel's finger onto the varnished table as Julian walks calmly from the cafe, his trousers tenting.
***
Three minutes, and Noel is running out of the cafe after him. Ten minutes and they're staring at each other on the street corner as the crowd bustles around them. They are as unaware of it as it is of them. Julian is glaring at Noel, and Noel is pleading, persuading Julian.
Fifteen minutes and they are a few meters into a wide alleyway, in no way out of public eye, and Noel's lips are on Julian's neck and their hard cocks are rubbing roughly against each other through their trousers. Julian is staring at the alley wall. Someone has scribbled that they woz 'ere, but Julian doubts their name is really Madcorre.
Pleasure is surging through him with every rough thrust of Noel's erection against his own, and his gaze is slowly blurring and dropping so that his face is buried in Noel's hair, breathing in the smell of shampoo. Noel's tongue runs up the side of his neck, the movement almost jagged as Noel fights to concentrate, his frantic thrusting becoming more erratic. His teeth toy with Julian's earlobe, who uses the sensation to block out the sounds of the bustling street, the titters and shocked gasps of passersby who notice them.
It’s a surprise to Julian, a second later, when he realises he's on the verge of coming. He feels like he's fourteen again, enthusiastically dry humping a girl whose name he can't even remember. She had red hair and always wore jeans, he knows that much. Even in summer.
He lets out a groan and finally moves, thrusting forward against Noel. It feels wrong to become active in this, almost as if he's agreeing to something. However, right now he can't bring himself to care. All he wants to do is come. And come with Noel.
And suddenly Noel tilts his head up and they kiss for the first time, and he does. And Noel comes too, almost simultaneously, the sensation in their bodied pooling in equal parts to their cocks and to their lips.
The kiss is tender, and goes on for a long while after they ride out their orgasms, snogging softly against the alley wall, a group of scene kids jeering them and cheering them from the street.