Disclaimer: I don't own the Boosh - I know, I know, I was amazed too! Also the title (because, as some of you may have noticed by now, I am inept at making them up by myself) is the title of a song my the beautiful 80's hair metal band Cinderella!

Warnings, of which there are many: Set in the 70's. Howince. Homophobia. Religious condemning of Homosexuality. 70's 'treatment' of homosexuality. Based on more truth that open-minded individuals such as ourselves would ever like to think. Quotes from the Bible (which I guess I should point out, I also don't own). If anyone gets offended, though you shouldn't really, I'm VERY sorry!

Also, all attempts at cannon and linking in with the show disappeared within half an hour of writing. It's definitely, unintentionally an AU!

Authors Notes: I don't think I've ever been more scared to post a fic in my life. I'm not even sure if it really belongs on this site… This is probably one of the darkest things I've written. I just wish something nice and happy would pop into my head for once… *sighs*

And so it begins…

Vince looked at the brand new pen, inside his brand new pencil case next to his brand new bag, set down by his brand new school shoes and brand new school uniform. He sighed. He'd never been particularly popular at school, though he'd never been particularly unpopular either. He'd guessed a few times over the years that he would leap a few notches up the popularity ladder if he ditched Howard and started hanging around with Jonny and Billy but that was totally out of the question. Howard was his best friend and everyone else could go and eat soil as far as he was concerned.

He smiled. His memories of his time with Howard always made him smile. Suddenly, his legs were shaking so violently he had to sit down. He wasn't sure what was making his knees take on the consistency of jelly but something had changed recently. He couldn't pinpoint when the change had happened. Had there even been a revolutionary moment? Had he always known? It was difficult to tell now. Everything just seemed so foggy in his mind. He didn't understand what to do and the more he thought about it, the more his knees shook and his body shook, like he was having some kind of fit. His blood ran like ice and he felt almost ill with the pain that this feeling was forcing through his being. He'd feel as though he would explode if he didn't tell someone soon and then… it would go. He'd tell himself he was being stupid; just a stupid, stupid kid but around Howard, it got worse. His need to tell was greater, he felt less stupid and more delightfully light-headed and giddy.

He'd all but avoided his friend over the summer holidays, which Vince's father had encouraged. Vince knew his dad was wary of how close he and Howard were.

"Vince." he'd say, sitting himself on the stool in his son's room. "I'd like you to listen to tomorrow's sermon."

"Oh, Daaaaaaaaad" Vince would moan, sitting down on the bed, cross legged like a tiny child. "Do I have to? I'll hear it tomorrow anyway."

"Well, that's not the point. I'm aiming tomorrow's sermon at boys like you. I want to make sure that it's interesting."

Vince would sigh and then agree to listen because that's what good Christians did.

His dad would clear his throat and begin. "In the name of the Father and the Son and of the Holy Ghost…"

At this point Vince would switch off. He'd lie back in his numerous, fluffy and colourful pillows and watch his dad's lips moving. He'd smile and nod politely, pretending to be interested, pretending to care but Vince had never really been interested. He'd never really cared. He didn't understand all of this. His father and mother were so faithful and their faith brought them joy beyond measure but their faith had only ever brought Vince pain. His dad would suddenly become more expressive in his speech and Vince would tune back into the conversation.

"…mortal sins. Do you know what the mortal sins are, Vince?"

"No."

"Yes, you do. Think boy."

"Murder."

"Yes."

"Adultery."

"Good."

"I don't know any others."

"Think about Leviticus."

"Who?"

His dad would sigh. "Honestly Vince, do you pay any attention in my sermons?"

"Yes." Vince would lie. Usually, he just integrated himself with the choir and drew pictures of far off crazy worlds that he and Howard would invent together.

"Right then, consider Leviticus verse 18:22."

"Dad," Vince would forced a rather convincing yawn "I'm tired. What are you trying to get at?"

"Homosexuality, Vincent."

Of course he was. Wasn't that always what he was trying to get at in these weird little one on one chats he had with Vince?

"The abomination of sodomy; the devils love."

Vince would fake another yawn.

"But I thought all love was sacred." he'd say calmly, "Didn't you say that once? And God loves all his children equally, if he didn't love the gays why would he make them?"

"Don't hate the sinner, hate the sin and these are the people who fall to the devil's temptation. Homosexuality is an abomination in the eyes of the Lord."

"I think they're alright." Vince would say distantly, "Except for the prohibited standards of hygiene."

And then his dad would leave, muttering some kind of prayer for his wayward son.

.

"He's always banging on about it." Vince would moan to Howard the next day.

"Hey, maybe he thinks you're gay." Howard would laugh.

"Awww, get lost. I'm not gay. I like Monica Taylor."

"Mm. She doesn't like you though, does she?"

"She offered me sweets yesterday."

"Only after you begged her for them."

"S'not the point. All I'm saying is, me and Monica Taylor are gonna get married."

"Sure you are."

"So, I don't know why my dad would think I'm gay."

"Well, you do dress a bit, you know… camp."

"Oh Howard, you know nothing about fashion."

"I haven't seen a single other person in a tinsel covered boiler suit."

"That's coz no one else is fashionable either and will you stop calling it that. It's proper name is the glitter ball suit."

"Right."

"It's not perfected yet though but when I do. I'll look like a genius."

"You'll look like a tit at Christmas."

Vince would have to stifle a grin and, with a forced expression of outrage, say; "Honestly Howard, you'll see. One day, you'll find out that I am a fashionista. A pioneer of the latest fashion trends and you are going to be stuck in your weird Hawaiian flowery shorts and brown roll neck jumpers." He'd shudder. "You'll look like you were dressed by blind Chimpanzees."

"You'll look like you were dressed by Elton John on acid."

"Howard!" Vince would cry in mock outrage and then they'd laugh before falling quiet and picking anxiously at a hole in his jumper.

"You shouldn't let it bother you." Howard would say solemnly, "Your dad's just being stupid."

"Yeah." Vince would grin at his friend. "You're right."

But Vince wasn't 12 anymore and Monica Taylor was ancient history. He didn't get a jittery tummy because he picked up Louise Sanford's pencil. He didn't care that Claire Bowman told everyone at a sleepover that she had a crush on someone who's named rhymed with Prince, Star. He wasn't even that bothered that Cerys John had told him he was cute. He didn't notice how nice Rachael Nymph's arse looked in her skirt, though he was told repetitively by Leroy. What he did notice was Howard's smile and his beautiful brown eyes and youthful enthusiasm and that way he had of looking at Vince that made him feel like everything was roses.

"Vince. Vince! Vincent!"

Vince shook himself from his day dream and found he was back in his room in that hideous uniform. He turned to see his mother staring at him.

"Oh Vincent." She beamed, "You look so handsome." she added, pressing her sticky red lips to his cheek.

"Aww mum." he grimaced, rubbing the mark off with the back of his hand. "Get lost. I'm not six anymore."

"I don't care. You're still my baby. First day at sixth form. I'm so proud of you."

"I'm only going back to do art and hair design."

"I know but still…" she smiled. "I'm proud."

"You're ridiculous." he laughed.

The doorbell rang, there was a creak of the old front door and then a voice drifted up the steps.

"Oh, hello Sir, Father, Reverend Noir, Sir." Vince's heart skipped a beat. That had to be Howard. Only Howard could mess up a fairly routine greeting in such a spectacular fashion.

"Howard." was the cold tone of the Vicar response.

"Is Vince here?"

"Yes. He's should be down now."

"See you later mum." Vince said, grabbing his back and legging it down the stairs.

"Alright sweety." she called after him.

Vince pushed past his dad, nearly knocking him off balance.

"Bye dad" he said, as he grabbed Howard's arm and dragged him out the front door.

"You're excited."

"Yeah! Only have to talk about art and hair ever. How cool is that?"

"Hmm."

"What are you taking?"

"Umm, Jazz through the ages, historical literature specialising in stationary and the scientific study of globes."

"Wow!" scorned Vince, "That sounds like a riot."

"Well, it's not too late to swap courses Vince."

"No way!" laughed Vince. "I'd be so bored in your classes."

"Yeah but now we're not in the same classes anymore." Howard said, in an almost whine.

"I know but we do have the same frees. I'll meet you by the canteen door second, okay?"

"Yeah, alright."

The day was strange. The art lessons were difficult and even hair design lacked something. Vince missed Howard. Even the time they were together was too short. So, after school, he suggested they go to the park. This wasn't anything particularly unusual but Howard seemed to think it was. His face seemed to crinkle in confusion as they walked together.

"Howard, you alright?"

"Mmm."

"Mmm? What's 'mmm' mean?"

"Nothing, just 'mmm'."

Vince fell quiet and for the first time ever, the silence around them was uncomfortable.

"Why didn't you ever come out and play in the summer?" Howard asked suddenly.

"We're sixteen now Howard. We don't go out and play anymore. We're too old."

"Oh." he paused and then; "But you didn't want to go to the cinema's either, or bowling, or to the jazz night in town. Why not?"

"I just didn't want to!" Vince yelled, stopping sharply.

Howard stopped too and turned to look at his friend. "Alright, calm down."

"Don't! You don't understand. Nobody understands." Vince was screaming now. He was grateful the old memorial park was deserted."Understands what? Tell me. What's up Vince?"

"Nothing."

"I don't get it. I thought we were friends."

"We are. Best friends."

"So, why don't you want to spend time with me?"

"Because it confuses me."

"Confuses you? Vince, what are you talking about?" The taller boy asked, putting his hand on his friend's shoulder. Vince shook him off, taking a very deliberate, very large step backwards.

"Please don't Howard. You're not helping."

He could feel the coldness overcoming him. The tears welling up inside him and the shaking began. His knees knocked, he knew he was going to spill his guts, whether it be metaphorically or literally. He felt weak and he dropped. His knees collided hard with the pavement, ripping the knees of his trousers. The gravel scraped at his hands. He could feel the very real tears burning the back of his eyeballs. He rubbed his nose with his palm, looking meek and childlike. Howard frowned in confusion. He'd never seen Vince like this. He was the sunshine kid. Rain could make Vince happy, dirt made him happy all the time and a peanut make him break into song but now… Now, Vince looked broken and Howard didn't understand. He'd been okay this morning or at least he'd seemed okay. Howard had only brought up his detachment over the summer to find out why, not because he was particularly angry and certainly not because he wanted to upset Vince. Howard took a deep breath and sat down by his friend.

"Vince," he said softly, reaching out to touch his arm and then, thinking better of it, he let his hand fall limply to his side. "Tell me what's up."

"I… I… Howard." Suddenly, the boy looked up and met Howard's eyes. His head tilted slightly to the left and he whispered. "Who do you fancy?"

"Oh. Is this about Cerys? Look, I know she fancies you. I'm don't care anymore, I've moved on."

"To who?"

"Well, no one yet." Howard coughed embarrassedly, "But Howard Moon doesn't give up the fight for the fairer sex that easily. I'll soon find a new sun for my sky, light of my world, cream for my strawberries…"

"But you're definitely looking for a girl?" Vince interrupted, and then mentally kicked himself for being so obvious.

"Of course." the taller boy said proudly and then looking at Vince he asked uncertainly, "Why? Aren't you?"

Vince looked at his lap, his fingers fiddling quickly, "I don't know." he answered honestly.

"Oh."

"I'm sorry."

"For what?"

"I… I…"

"Vince. You haven't done anything wrong." he assured him, rubbing his arm gently.

"So why do I feel so guilty?"

"Because you're being stupid." Howard chuckled, squeezing the boys bicep lightly. "It doesn't matter who you fancy or who you don't. You're still the same person. You're still my best friend."

"But what are my parents going to say?"

"You don't have to tell them. Not yet anyway. Just wait until you're ready."

Vince nodded a tear squeezing from his tear duct and taking a leisurely stroll down his face. Howard reached out and wiped it away with his thumb.

"So is this why you didn't want to hang out in the summer? You were afraid that if you told me I wouldn't want to be your friend anymore."

Vince nodded. That wasn't exactly right but it was all Howard needed to know that at the moment.

"Oh Vince." he half sighed and half laughed. "I'm always going to be your friend."

Vince nodded again and allowed himself to be gathered into a big, bear hug and pinned against Howard chest.

He breathed in deeply, relishing the moment, dreaming about what it would be like to always be held like this by Howard, imagining what it would be like to kiss him. To be needed by Howard as much as he needed him and then he felt the tears falling from his eyes. He shouldn't be thinking these things about his best friend. He was taking an innocent platonic hug and allowing his mind to turn it into something else. Something dirty and wrong. It was unfair to Howard and the tears really started to fall now.

"Vince." he heard Howard's voice, felt it vibrate through his chest. "Vince, come on. Don't cry. Please."

Vince cried harder. The pleading in Howard's voice had just made everything more real, more painful.

"Howard," he choked out between his stifled sobs. "I don't think we should be friends anymore." This was for the best he was sure of it. Howard didn't deserve to be kissed and groped by Vince's twisted daydreams.

"What?" cried the older boy. "Why?"

"Because, it's not good for us."

"Vince, please. I don't care if you're gay or straight just please, please don't stop being by friend."

"But what if I…" Vince stopped himself before he said something he would really, truly regret, because, so far, despite his uncontrolled sobbing, he hadn't regretted anything he'd told Howard.

"What if you… what?" Howard pressed.

Vince shook his head determinedly, his long dark hair flying wildly around his face.

"Come on." encouraged the older boy. "I don't like it when you hide things from me Vince. Tell me what you're thinking."

Vince shook his head again but this time it was with less conviction so Howard pressed on. More words of soothing, of encouragement, of reassurance and suddenly Vince blurted out;

"What if I try to kiss you?"

And Howard was stunned into silence.

After a second or two of excruciating quiet. Vince looked up, his blue eyes searching for something in Howard's expressionless face. He needed a sign. Something to tell him it would be okay. A silent promise, just between them. A promise that their friendship would be strong enough to get through any crush Vince may develop. But no reassurance came. They just looked at each other. Neither saying or doing anything until Howard finally squeaked;

"You're not going to though, are you? Because you don't fancy me."

Vince's heart broke a little. Howard wasn't ready to accept even the possibility of a kiss but at the same time there was a big shiny get-out clause so Vince took it.

"No." he forced a cheerful laugh and Howard's face visibly relaxed "Course not. Flipping heck Howard, as if I could fancy you."

"Yeah." Howard agreed quickly.

"I'm just saying, if we were at a party or something and I got really drunk and mistook you for someone who's actually good looking. Would you be able to wriggle free from my charm and beauty and limpet grip?"

"I would fight you off, sir." Howard smiled, poking his friend playfully in the ribs. "And point you in the direction of a more suitable young man."

"And he'd be cute, right?"

"The cutest." And then Howard blushed. Vince giggled and poked Howard in the tummy.

"That's good to know, small eyes." he grinned. Poking again and again.

"Are you engaging me in a tickle fight, sir?" Howard asked with mock incredulous and a raise of the eyebrow.

"So what if I am?" Vince said, tongue playing at the corner of his mouth.

"Then I will come at you like an octopus."

"Oh will you now?" Vince smiled, standing up suddenly.

"Mm." Howard nodded, having to pull on Vince's sleeve to get himself to his feet. He immediately noticed the holes at his friends knees but he didn't mention it. No need to worry Vince and anyway, he had a tickle fight to win. So, with all the grace of a constipated elephant he lunged at the smaller boy, who darted daintily out of his reach and started to run down the street.

Vince ran a little like a pixie. Always looking over his shoulder and giggling with glee as he saw Howard miles behind him. His legs seemed to flail about everywhere but he still looked somehow coordinated and he was fast. Howard, despite his superior stride length, found it impossible to catch the smaller boy. Not unless Vince wanted to be caught.

Howard didn't catch up with Vince until they reached the vicarage and by then both boys were too tired to engage in any fighting of the tickling variety.

"You wanna come in?" Vince asked, once he'd wrestled with the lock and forced open the heavy door.

"Yeah." Howard smiled.

"Cool. Dad's out visiting the sick in hospital this evening so he wont be home 'til late."

"Right." Howard said, kicking off his shoes by the door.

He wasn't sure why Vince had opted to tell him that but it wasn't worth pressing the issue. He knew Vince had problems with his dad. He knew that the religion came between them. It was the thing that everyone in the parish knew but nobody dared discuss. It was a well known fact that Vince Noir wasn't particularly religious, though Howard thought the rumours that Vince often fell asleep in the sermons was probably a lie. Though he couldn't really be sure, it was impossible to spot Vince in amongst all the other choir boys. Howard had tried to find him, it was the only entertainment he had when his mum dragged him there on a Sunday. Howard wasn't particularly religious either but then neither were his family. His mother went to church through unremitting fear that not going may make people gossip about her and so as not to offend Vince's mother, who was the chairwoman of the parish book club and cake sales committee and various other boring clubs that his mother insists on joining as part of her 'give back to the community plan'.

"Oh. Hello Howard."

He looked up to see Mrs Noir, holding a tray consisting of a large chocolate cake. She was smiling broadly.

"Mrs Noir." he nodded his head politely.

"I haven't seen much of you this summer. I thought you and Vincent weren't friends anymore."

"No." Howard said, his eyes flicking quickly to Vince who's face was bright red as he shuffled , "It was a matter of the heart." he said.

Vince felt his own heart swell and then break. Why did Howard have to put things so poetically? Couldn't he see Vince was desperately trying to get over him?

"Ah." she smiled knowingly, "Girl trouble. Say no more. It's just nice to see you've made up now."

Howard nodded.

"Would you like to stay for tea?" she enquired.

"Umm," he looked at Vince, who nodded eagerly. "I'd love to. Thank you very much Mrs Noir." he said. He knew it wouldn't be a problem. His mother liked to encourage his friendship with the Noir's son.

"Excellent. I'll ring your mother and tell her you're stopping here. We're having toad in the hole, is that okay with you?"

"Perfect." Howard said, with his politest smile. "Thank you."

"Suck up." Vince grinned at him after his mother was out of ear shot. "Why don't you just kiss her feet?"

Howard visibly shuddered at the thought and Vince laughed.

"Come on." he said, "I wanna show this new painting I've done. It's of Bryan Ferry."

--

"It looks like Terry Wogan." Howard said, sounding completely unimpressed.

"Oi. Shut up."

"I'm serious. It's like a Bollywood Wogan. A good Bollywood Wogan." he added on seeing the look of disappointment on his friend's face. "The best Bollywood Wogan I've ever seen."

Vince grinned widely then. "Really?"

"Oh yeah. Easily the best."

"I might tell everyone else it's Bollywood Wogan then."

"Good idea little man."

"But don't you go telling people the truth, okay? That would ruin everything."

"Right." smiled Howard, looking around at Vince's room. It was small, very small actually or maybe that was just because most of the space was being taken up by the giant walk in wardrobe. There was an Ikea chest of draws too, splattered with various colours in indistinctive, faded circles.

"I see our handiwork is still holding out." smiled Howard, fingering the plywood gently.

"Yeah. Course it is." Vince beamed, "D'you remember when we painted that? We were trying to fill those water balloons up with paint but we couldn't do it very well. And when we did mange to get them filled up, we couldn't tie them and if we did it all, we kept missing the chest of draws and hitting each other."

"Well, we were only seven. And only one of us missed the target on purpose the other one aimed directly at me."

Vince laughed a bit. "Yeah, we were covered in paint."

"Yeah and your mum made us have a bath together." Howard chuckled and then he realised what he'd said and the room fell silent. He looked at Vince who was redder a balloon full of red paint. He hoped it wouldn't always be like this; moments of awkwardness ruining a brilliant reminiscing session but Vince just said, speaking slowly as though he were picking his words very carefully;

"And you cried because I wouldn't let you play with my toy boat."

Howard chuckled a little nervously.

"Well you had the latest 'Battleship 5000'. I was jealous."

Vince nodded slowly. He looked like he was in real pain when he said the next bit;

"This is weird, isn't it? What I told you… it's even ruining our memories."

"It's not." Howard said, squeezing his friend's shoulder. "It's not ruining anything. I promise."

Vince nodded carefully but he still didn't look entirely convinced.

After that, they carried on like they always had and nothing else was said on the matter. There were a few awkward moments here and there when someone made a comment about how they spent so much time together asking if they were in love but nothing they couldn't laugh their way out of. It was a few months later when Howard was woken in the middle of the night by his telephone. Stupid new technology, he'd really been enjoying that dream. He listened but there was no creaking of floorboards to suggest his parents were going to answer it's wailing call. Sighing, he heaved himself out of bed and padded down the stairs.

"'Ello." he croaked, his brain foggy with exhaustion.

"How-Howard." The voice down the phone sobbed. "Howard."

"Vince, is that you?" he blinked, rubbing his eyes with the base of his palm to try and dislodge the last of his sleep. "Are you okay? Are you crying? What's happened?"

"I'm going to hell." he wailed.

"What?"

"My dad just came in and told me his sermon for tomorrow." Howard didn't need to hear anymore. He had had this conversation with Vince enough times to know what that meant.

"What phone are you using?"

"The box. Near the park. It's really dark. Howard, I'm scared."

"Okay. Don't move. I'll come and get you."

Sorry for excessively long chapter! It just wouldn't end…

Review Please? xx