Heyy ;) Me and Stonehenge were watching the boosh on saturday night (Every Ep.) and I was hit in the face by a rampant plot bunny wielding pocket cups :)

Enjoy

D/C It's NOT MINE. Teehee.

This is a teeny tiny oneshot.

...

I can't sleep. It's three in the morning and I'm being drawn to the slumbering man in the bed across from mine, by ten past I give up, my scissors are just by my bed and I know Howard's a heavy sleeper, I've done this enough times to know that. I stumble a little in the pitch black, my feet carrying me in the right direction as my eyes adjust to the darkness, I can see him now, his brown hair clinging to his head, smiling slightly to himself as he breathes steadily. I have to catch myself, or I might do something stupid.

I wish I could sleep like him. He always looks happy when he's asleep, like a baby (With a moustache). He stirs. I freeze. My breath catches in my throat. I stay still as he settles again, letting out a breath that I didn't realise I'd been holding. I cautiously take another step towards his bed, closing the gap, I pick up the comb I keep in my pyjama pocket and get to work. I don't want to change Howard's look, just give him a bit of a trim and neaten it up a little.

I always promise myself that it'll be the last time, I can't keep doing this to myself, it's one of the worst feelings in the world, wanting something so badly that when you look at it you can hardly stand; can barely breathe. Needing someone is bad enough, but knowing that you could never have them is absolute torture, your heart races, lungs threaten to explode, tears choke and sting when you think of them with someone other than you. Sometimes I'll draw him when he's not looking, I have a sketch book full of little drawings of him doing Howard-ey things that I pretend I can't stand. But if they ever went away I think I'd lose my mind - that is if I haven't already lost it.

Shit.

He's moved and I think I've cut off a random chunk at the back of his neck.

I stand up and try to position myself so that I can see it better. I try every position I can without getting on the bed, about twenty minutes later, I give up and tentatively climb onto the side of the bed and sit perfectly still, which is difficult 'cause I've got an itch and I just know that my hair's a mess. He stirs a little again as I balance myself by his head and try to sort the back of his hair.

"Vince?"

Howard turns over and looks at me, his face immediately changes from confused to slightly annoyed (I can read him like a book).

I think fast, my heart's thumping in my ears and I'm fighting, again, to control myself.

"You're dreaming?" My voice doesn't sound like my own, It's more like a guilty mouse's and Howard's not buying it at all.

"You were cutting my hair, weren't you?"

I let the question hang for a moment. Then I realise I'm still holding my scissors and comb.

I know he isn't shocked, but when I look at him again he doesn't look angry either...he looks...as if he expected it, and a little amused. So I let a grin grace my features and pray he'll do the same.

"I can't sleep Howard,"

"No excuse, little man,"

I know he isn't angry for definite now and a warm fuzzy glow fills me as he sits up beside me and pulls the duvet up to let me climb in, like he used to if I ever got cold at the zoo. I steal a glance at his face again and realise he's looking at me with an odd expression, his eyes look glazed over and somehow bigger. He must've noticed me staring at him because now he's blushing and looking down at his hands, his teeth worrying his bottom lip. I let the scissors and comb fall to the floor. I can't help it, I know I shouldn't but I'm going to anyway, I snuggle down into the duvet and rest my head on his chest. He's so warm and I want to stay like this forever, I'm in my element. I realise that somehow we're now lying down, his arms locked protectively around my waist, our bodies pulled together. I'm so happy, but at the same time furious with myself for letting this happen, I know I can't control it now as I look up at him.

I pull myself up to bring my mouth level with his, I can feel his breath on my face, his heart racing under my hand...He knows, he must...

I'm getting closer...

My head's screaming at me. He's gonna pull away.

But he doesn't.

Lips meet and teeth clash.

He's kissing back, isn't he?

He is!

I'm getting frantic now, I've waited years for this and I don't ever want to stop. I've been pulled on top of Howard at some point and his hands are in my hair, His moustache tickles my upper lip and my mouth moves down to his jaw, nibbling and making the man beneath me make the most wonderful noises. I have a feeling I'm making similar sounds but I don't care - I feel happier than I think I've ever felt in my life. My stomach is doing flips, my heart is pounding so much that I'm sure everyone in the flat can hear it too.

...

When I wake the next morning the first thing I notice is the absence of a certain scruffy haired fashion victim. I wasn't dreamin' again – was I?

No. I'm definitely in Howard's bed – only he isn't here.

I don't wonder where he is for too long. About five minutes after I sit up he's there next to me, all ruffled and sweet.

"Alright?"

"Yeh, you?"

I give him my biggest grin and he returns the favour before enveloping me into a Howard hug. (like a bear hug – but better)

"Fancy a cup 'o tea?"

...

Yep. I'm ill which is why this is shitty lol, but nvm, I wasn't gonna upload it but...

Here it is.