Hello. This is my first time writing so sorry in advance. :P I would like to say I've been inspired by so many wonderful writers here.
This might just be a piece on its own. But I might continue if people like it. Warning: some age-play - but nothing sexual. Mental age regression I guess is the better term. There's not gonna be any slash in this story. It's more of a psychological, Vince centered!Angst story. Like I said, it's my first time and my first idea. So let's see how it goes.
Another day over. Another night sat in his armchair, staring out the window at the few stars twinkling through the smog blanketing the city of London.
This was his interlude. His limbo.
The trials of another day had finished and yet now he was alone with the anticipation of whatever obstacle he might face tomorrow. Sometimes the better the day had been, the more he'd worry over what torture he might have to endure the next day, in order to balance things out. Because that's how Howard Moon's life worked. Nothing was ever perfect. His life was a constant flick book of failure after failure.
In spite of the termites of anxiety gnawing away at his insides, he did cherish these moments of quiet solitude. The hours where his flat mates had gone to rest their heads and were no longer around to tease or torment him. He took another puff of his cigar. He only ever smoked at night, with the window open a crack and no one to berate him. Howard didn't bother questioning the hypocrisy of not being allowed to smoke when his Shaman landlord constantly had a cloud of weed fumes hovering in his aura. No matter what, he was always in the wrong anyway.
He could never do anything right. What was the point of trying, really?
That was the other downside of Howard's brooding time. His thoughts, if protected, were rarely positive. If anything his own internal monologues merely fuelled his growing depression. He was his own worst enemy in that respect.
He accomplished nothing. He had nothing.
All he existed for was to be the butt of a never ending joke. There really was little reason for his existence.
For a split second, Howard thought, if he hadn't been enjoying his cigar so much - he might have thrown himself out the window. Something he'd been saying to himself for the past five years and never having so much as stood up from his chair.
He had to wonder; what was keeping him bound to that place? He puffed his cigar once more.
"'Oward."
The voice was so hushed and light that Howard's ears barely registered it.
He looked around to the slight figure stood in the doorway. He hadn't even heard footsteps. Howard blew out a puff of smoke; "Yes, Vince?"
"I 'ad a nightmare."
"Again?" There was little surprise in Howard's voice.
Vince nodded.
Howard took another puff, regarding the state of his friend in the corner of his eyes. Vince was wearing his baggy flannel pyjamas, the bottoms twisted at his waist as evidence of an unsettled sleep. His hair was out of place, bits of his fringe sticking up at the front (rather adorably, Howard conceded). His eyes were wide and glistening with anxiety, his thumbnail resting between his lips. From a glance, he resembled an oversized five year old. Sometimes, Howard thoughtm he may as well be.
Of course most people would have been surprised to see happy go-lucky Vince Noir appear so shaken and fragile. Everyone except the one person who really knew him.
Howard put his cigar down on the edge of the ash tray and beckoned Vince over; "C'mere then."
Vince tottered along, his fluffy purple slippers barely making a sound on the floor, till he stood beside Howard's chair.
He wet his lips; "….Please?"
Howard gave a brief, sly smile; "Go on then."
With that, Vince climbed onto Howard's lap, his legs over his while one arm hooked around the back of Howard's neck, the other still in use as he nibbled his thumb nail. Howard barely looked at him as his skinny best friend snuggled into him, and picked up his cigar again for another drag. He was well past used to their positions by now. It had been this way pretty much since they'd worked together at the zoo.
Vince was snivelling slightly, still recovering. Howard didn't say a word as he wiped his face against his beige shirt. If he'd complained, Vince would probably have quipped that it wasn't as if his garment could've been made any worse. Howard's spare arm was hooked around Vince's waist, supporting him to him, as if Vince's iron grip on him wasn't enough.
"Same dream again?" asked Howard, looking back out the window.
Vince shook his head; "Not exactly."
"D'you wanna talk about it?"
His friend whimpered and shook his head before resting it on Howard's shoulder.
"That's ok," Howard whispered, tilting his head down to rest his chin against Vince's hair. They'd known each other for so long, Howard didn't need telling for the possibly terrors in Vince's little head. He rubbed a rather bony arm with his hand; "You're safe now. Howard Moon's got you, little man. Nothing to fear."
He felt Vince smile into his chest. He'd wanted him to smile. Sometimes he wondered if he made such a fool of himself on purpose if just to make Vince laugh.
His fingers wandered up Vince's back and began to play gently with his hair. When Vince didn't complain, he continued, letting his hand frolic in the heavenly soft locks. Meanwhile, Vince's own fingers toyed with one of the buttons on Howard's shirt, like a toddler fascinated with a strange new object. How fitting that his thumb was now properly in his mouth.
Howard glanced down and noticed with a grin. But he didn't comment on it. He had ample opportunity to tease Vince but he could never bring himself to. It seemed like kicking an already scared puppy. Instead he kissed the man-child's forehead, wanting him to feel as safe and loved as possible.
"'Oward…" said Vince, tiredly, around his thumb.
"Mhm?"
"You'll never leave me, will ya?"
Howard chuckled; "I'd like to try with you clinging to me like a limpet, Vince."
At that, Vince held on even tighter to Howard, practically pressing himself into himself into him; "You can't leave. Never ever."
A sad sigh escaped Howard. He rubbed his own forehead.
"Vince…" he began, wearily; "You can't hold onto me forever. One day, I…I might not be here and-"
"NO!" Vince suddenly screamed.
"Vince, shush, listen-" said Howard, exasperated.
Vince began to claw at Howard's shirt; "You…don't…go! Never!" Tears spilled from his eyes, his legs kicking out as he became more and more hissy; "NEVER!"
Howard rolled his eyes. The little feller was just cranky. He should've known better than to try and talk rationally.
Before Vince's crying could get any louder, Howard silenced him with an oversized dummy.
At first, Vince looked up at him with wide, confused eyes. But then, reassured by Howard's smile, he began to suck, the pacifier quickly calming him down. Howard held him tight in his arms and now, with both hands free, Vince used both to hold onto Howard as tight as he needed to. Howard smiled down at him, rather sadly, pitying his friend somewhat - but thankful he was a bit happier.
"There now. Much better, isn't it? We'll have no more silly tantrums, will we?" Howard cooed.
Vince smiled around the dummy and shook his head.
"Is Vincey going to be a good boy? Is he? Is he?" Howard tickled him lightly in the tummy.
Vince giggled in infantile delight; "Yeth!"
"There's my big boy. You have a sleepy now, little one. And tomorrow we can spend the whole day together, doing whatever you want." soothed Howard, rocking Vince gently.
Vince hugged Howard's neck; "Howard always stay with Vincey."
"….Of course."
"Pwomise!"
He sighed; "I promise."
Howard grit his teeth. Him and his big mouth. It didn't matter how much older Vince got, he'd never be able to accept the rational idea that Howard wouldn't always be there to make everything better. In a lot of ways, Howard felt guilty for fuelling Vince's co-dependency on him. But it was a habit that neither of them could break out of easily.
Vince gave a big yawn and rested his head down; "Nun-night 'Oward."
"Goodnight little man. Sweet dreams." Howard whispered.
He continued to sit there in the darkness, the once present silence now thwarted by the soft sound of Vince sucking his dummy, his breath evening out as he fell asleep. Though the sound of Vince's tiny breaths were sweet as honey, Howard nonetheless felt a knot of guilt in his stomach.
At first it had just been a game, though even then Howard had thought they were too old to be playing 'house'. Soon after, Howard began to realize it was something more. It was something linked to the childhood Vince never had. To the love and nurturing he never received from his set of parents. Howard was the closest he'd ever had. No wonder when people asked if he was Vince's father, the younger man's cheeks would tinge red. The poor little man had been deprived a childhood - now his only comfort was being allowed to experience what was deprived from him. And who was Howard to deny him something so innocent?
Of course, he knew he should be doing the opposite. Trying to help Vince grow up instead of regress. But he couldn't stop himself going for the easier option. It didn't help how cute Vince could be when he was pretending. Maybe the dummy was too much. He'd thought for a while he wouldn't have to use it. Vince had been quite good these past few nights. But tonight he'd relapsed, and seeing a potential breakdown on the horizon, Howard felt he'd had no choice.
And he did look so adorable sucking it in his sleep, bless him.
Besides, with Vince in his arms, he no longer had a need to question his purpose on this earth. Howard took one last puff of his cigar before stuffing it out. He reckoned he deserved a little bit of selfishness every now and then.
please let me know what you think. :) thank you for reading.
