Title: Mutual Misunderstandings

Author: thickets
Pairing: Howard/Vince
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: Fluff ahoy! Also, slash. Shocking, I know.
Word Count: 2260
Disclaimer: Boosh belongs to Julian, Noel, and Baby Cow.
Summary: Answers booshbattleLJ prompt "Mighty Boosh, Howard/Vince, Everyone thinks they are together and it's all a coy act to pretend they're not."

Mutual Misunderstandings
by thickets

"The proper basis for marriage is mutual misunderstanding."
- Oscar Wilde (oh Oscar, so cynical)

Perhaps they should have realized it when they kept getting Christmas gifts that "they could share". The year that Leroy was working in that electronics store they got a really nice turntable. Vince used it for his 70s rock LPs – Bolan, Bowie, the Stones, Iggy and the Stooges (and, when no one was around to make fun of him, Kate Bush's The Kick Inside). Howard, of course, loaded it up with his jazz whenever Vince was far, far away.

Howard naturally took it as a sign that no one wanted to buy any presents for him, so they just slapped his name on Vince's present to get out of it. Vince was having none of that.

"What about that fondue set Mrs. Gideon gave us the first Christmas she worked at the Zooniverse?" That had been one of the first joint gifts, Vince realized. "I mean, I know she got your name wrong on the gift tag, but a fondue set? For me?"

"Mrs. Gideon was a cultured woman. She didn't know the only thing you can make in the kitchen is a bowl of cereal." Howard nodded towards the bowl of sugar puffs Vince was currently eating.

"Oh yeah? Well, what about the time Dennis gave us that complete set of Encyclopedia Xooberonia? You can't say that was just a present for me?"

That was a bit more difficult. And Howard had loved that present, actually. "Well, most of the time," he conceded.

"It just doesn't make sense," Vince said. "Who buys one present for two mates like that? Even if they do live together. I mean, it's not like they're housewarming presents. They're the sort of things you'd buy for a couple."

Howard stopped, his cup of tea halfway to his mouth, and looked at Vince pointedly.

"What?" Vince said, chasing the last bits of cereal around the bowl with his spoon.

Howard put his cup down and sighed.

"Wait, what?" Vince said, finally getting it. The spoon fell in the bowl into the bowl with a clink. "You … you can't mean? No way! That's impossible."

"It explains a lot, though doesn't it?" Howard stroked his moustache thoughtfully. "I mean, maybe that's why Mrs. Gideon never gave me a second look – because she thought we two were bumming."

"As if! She didn't give you a second glance because she barely noticed you enough to give you a first one!" Vince shook his head and started to get up from the table, then checked himself and brought his bowl over to the sink. Howard had laid down the law last week and threatened to hide all of his Collobos the Crab DVDs if he didn't start cleaning up after himself. "And anyway," he continued as he stood, washing his bowl out, at the sink, "nobody would ever think we'd be bummin'. That's ridiculous, Howard. I mean … can you imagine it?" He took a sneaky look over his shoulder. Truth was, he had imagined it. A couple of times. You know – just the way you sometimes imagine what it would be like to have sex with anybody. There was nothing particularly special about thinking it about Howard.

Right?

Howard, however, was shaking with laughter. "Just look at you," he said, wiping the tears from his eyes. "Terrified at the thought that people might believe you're with me. You're so superficial, Vince! Obviously, we give off a vibe to people."

"A vibe? What kind of vibe?"

"A couple vibe! An odd couple vibe, perhaps, but a couple vibe nonetheless!"

Vince turned around, his face distorted with disbelief. He'd expected Howard to be a bit more uncomfortable about this. Instead, he seemed to be almost reveling in it. He shook his head. "Odd couple? More like Beauty and the Beast."

Howard frowned for a minute, and Vince felt a little bad, but the other man regained his composure. He drained his cup of tea and turned the page of newspaper. "Well, the Beast turned out to be a handsome prince in the end, sir."

Vince sighed. "Aw, come on, Howard. Don't be like that. Anyway, you have to agree with me. There's no way anyone would assume we're in a relationship. I mean, we obviously don't act like anything other than really good friends." He put the bowl and spoon away and beamed at Howard, as if to say, See? I did my dishes just like you told me to. Aren't you proud of me?

Howard shook his head. "Yeah. Really good friends."

"Anyway, I'm going to go get ready for work. I'll see you downstairs in … let's say, two hours?"

"That fast?"

"Yeah, I think I'll go for a casual look today. I'm not in the mood to put much effort in."

:::

Later that evening, while Howard was out at Jazz Club with Lester, and Vince was hanging around, waiting until it was late enough that going out to dance would actually be worth it, he told Naboo about the morning's conversation.

"I was startin' to think Howard had gone wrong. I mean, what do you think, Naboo? People don't really think we're … like that with each other, right?"

Naboo raised one eyebrow and adjusted his turban. "To be honest, I wasn't one hundred percent sure you weren't until just now."

Vince gaped at him. "You're kidding, right, Naboo? You live with us! Of course we aren't … involved with each other!"

"Well, you do share a bedroom."

"Yeah, with two separate beds!"

"And sometimes I hear some very strange noises coming out of there."

"That's just us crimpin'! Or havin' Satsuma fights! Or, if we're drunk, playin' Twister."

"All right, all right. Keep your trousers on. You can't blame people for wondering, Vince. You and Howard are kind of unnaturally close."

Vince scoffed. "Unnaturally close, my arse." At the same time, he tried to call to mind anyone he knew who had a friendship like him and Howard. He couldn't think of one. Well, most people just didn't stay friends for as long as they had, did they? Maybe they were unusual, but that didn't mean anything.

Naboo was watching him with a bemused expression, and Vince realized he must have had his "hard thinkin' goin' on here" expression on. "Are you sure your relationship with Howard is strictly platonic?"

"What's that? Strictly tectonic? We're just friends, it's nothing that earth-shattering."

"Ha ha. You know, sometimes I wonder about you, Vince. Most of the time I think you can't possibly be as dumb as you pretend to be, but other times …" Naboo smiled, and stood up. "Well, anyway, I'm off to take Bollo to his DJing gig. Think on it."

Vince watched him go, and wondered why he was blushing.

:::

He got to the club just as things were heating up, perfectly timed, but he didn't feel much like dancing. He took a seat at the bar and ordered a flirtini, and spent awhile watching the ocean of people undulating on the dance floor. He should probably go ahead and dive in, but for some reason he just felt kind of … sad. He thought of Howard, hanging out with Lester Corncrake, probably eating twiglets to the rhythm of some hot bebop. He supposed that was what Howard preferred to do, but sometimes Vince felt like they barely spent any time doing normal friend things anymore. Sometimes … he missed Howard. Even though he saw him every day.

That melancholy feeling welled up inside of him again, and it was with a moment of startling clarity that Vince realized that it must be … loneliness.

He shook his head in bewilderment. A voice in his head that sounded suspiciously like Howard said, Come on now. Vince Noir doesn't get lonely. And anyway, how can you possibly feel lonely? Look around you.

Vince groaned and drained his glass. What was wrong with him? Was this how Howard felt most of the time? It was well wretched.

Just as he was thinking he might leave, a hand clasped his shoulder. He twisted around to see who it belonged to; it was Leroy.

"Oh, hey, Leroy. Was startin' to think I wouldn't see you here tonight!" Immediately he began to feel better. As usual, when other people were around it was easier to feel like Vince. Almost like he needed them to remind him who he was.

His bad mood disintegrated as he chatted with Leroy. He remembered that one of Leroy's presents had been up for debate in his and Howard's conversation this morning; Leroy couldn't possibly believe that he and Howard were a couple, could he? He decided to find out once and for all.

"Hey, Leroy?"

"Yeah?"

"You know … you know Howard 'n me, we're just friends, yeah?"

Leroy looked at him and smiled a little. "Yeah?"

"… Well, right then. That's it."

Leroy stared at him for a minute and then laughed. "That's it?"

"What else would there be?"

"Nothin'."

"Now what's that supposed to mean?"

"Don't worry, your secret's safe with me."

Vince almost fell off of his stool. "Sorry?" No, he couldn't possibly …

"Where is Howard, anyway?"

"What do you mean, where's Howard? D'you think we're attached at the hip? Why do I care where he is?"

"All right, all right, calm down! Jus' askin'! You two haven't had a fight, have you?"

"No!" Vince could feel his face getting redder and redder. He shouldn't have brought it up. It was better to let sleeping prawns lie. Or float, whatever. "Leroy … I dunno what you think … but Howard 'n me really are just friends. Nothin' more than that."

Leroy sighed. "Whatever, mate. It don't matter, yeah? It don't change the way you feel about him." He winked at Vince, and Vince got the impression that he and Leroy had been carrying on two different conversations. "Anyway," Leroy said, "I'm jumpin' in the soup. See you around?"

"Yeah," Vince said faintly, and watched him disappear into the crowd. His head, he realized, was killing him. It was time to go home.

:::

Howard had gotten home already from Jazz Club. Vince saw his coat on the hook when he stepped into the flat. It smelled faintly of pipe smoke, so he and Lester must have really been groovin' tonight. Oh, Howard.

He peeked into the parlor and saw that Howard was sitting in the armchair, his body tilted slightly away from Vince. He was wearing a pair of headphones Vince had given him in a desperate bid to lessen the amount of jazz contaminating the air of the flat. His eyes were closed and he was completely in his own world.

Vince put his hands on his hips and watched him. Could people really think he and Howard were an item? Their friendship was unlikely enough, a romance was completely impossible.

And yet, despite how unlikely their friendship was, here they were. Vince couldn't imagine life without Howard, he realized. He was the one essential part of his world that was irreplaceable. Well, and his Nicky Clarke straighteners. He wouldn't want to face reality without them.

His best friend. He quietly took a step closer; Howard still hadn't realized he wasn't alone. Vince gazed at his friend's bowed head, the little curls at the nape of his neck, the vulnerability of his hunched shoulders, and felt a powerful wave of tenderness, unlike anything he'd ever felt for another person, wash over him.

It don't change the way you feel about him.

Most of the time I think you can't possibly be as dumb as you pretend to be, but other times …

Well, the Beast turned out to be a handsome prince in the end, sir.

Vince staggered a little. Oh.

He leaned forward and, in a moment totally lacking in inhibition, wrapped his arms around Howard from behind and rested his head on his shoulder.

Howard jumped about a mile and knocked his headphones off, strains of Charlie Parker drifting up from where they'd landed on the floor. "Ah! Don't touch me!"

"It's only me," Vince said softly.

"Christ, Vince, you nearly gave me a heart attack."

"Sorry," Vince murmured, not letting go.

"What's all this about, then?" Howard prodded Vince's hand gently.

Vince shrugged.

"Did you have a bad night?"

Vince lifted his head. "Not really. It could be the best night of my life."

"Oh?" Howard asked, with a confused expression.

Vince released his grip on him, and slid around to the other side of the chair, leaning against the arm so he and Howard were face to face. "Yeah, maybe," he said, and kissed him.

It wasn't like the kiss on the rooftop, which both of them had been so determined to forget. It was hesitant, almost like Vince was asking him a question without words. After a second, Howard gave him his answer back. Vince's own response was one of relief and gratitude.

When they finally separated, panting, Vince again buried his face in Howard's neck, almost too nervous to look his friend in the face. Howard laid a reassuring hand on his head. "Took you long enough to notice."

Vince gave a muffled laugh. "Yeah, sorry. I'm a bit slow sometimes."

The end.

Naboo and Bollo's Epilogue:

"I don't care what Vince told me. That doesn't sound like a friendly game of Twister to me."

"We no have Twister anymore. It blow away when Bollo try to use it for carpet landing strip, remember?"

"… Ugh. I so do not need to be hearing this."