Yes, I know I started another fic and I have got half-way through the next chapter of that one, but this was just an idea that came to me last night. Cute, Christmasy adventure fic. That's all I'll say so far.
Disclaimer: Nope, still not mine. Surprised?
Christmas Eve, 1989
The stars grapple to twinkle their way through the smoggy navy clouds covering the night sky. Silhouetted against a tipsy moon is the fleeting image of the strangest group of humanoid men you would ever meet flying across the sky on a large magic carpet, each one as shit-faced as the shaman beside them, their voices murdering every seasonal carol known to the Earth.
Half a mile below, on the rejoicing planet's surface, an arguably more serene rendition of classic holiday songs are sang by a group from the Salvation Army as men, women and children wrapped snugly in scarves and padded coats and gloves stand and listen or pop in the occasional fifty pence piece. Little children cuddle up to their parents knees as they gaze up in wonder at the pretty lights adorning the city of London.
It's not just children who are feeling the magic of this beautiful night. Sat on a bench, cradling two cups of Starbucks coffees in their hands as they listen to the carols and gaze up at the lights, are two young men. Or, to put it better, two incredibly big kids.
The youngest of the duo is sixteen year old Vince Noir; having only recently dropped out of school to become an apprentice zookeeper. But tonight he is without his customised green Zooniverse jacket and wrapped in a festive red hand-me-down coat and multi-coloured knitted scarf and gloves. A bobbled snow hat crowns his long, ruffled dirty-blonde hair. It's a rare sight to ever see this boy without a smile on his pointy face. Only tonight there's an exception; his smile is even more raised and his eyes wide with an innocent, reverent sparkle in each. His crystal clear joy could make the little children in the crowd appear bored in comparison. Except it isn't the lights or the music that's keeping him even more blissfully happy than normal.
Every now and then, not too obvious or else it would look suspicious, he shifts his gaze back to that very reason. Beside him on the bench is twenty-one year old Howard Moon; his superior, his trainer, his guardian, his best friend and - though this bit of info is kept between him and his single brain cell - the man he's head over heels in love with. He's known it since the very first time his own eyes met those warm, small yet intense chocolate brown peepers. The thought never even phases him that it could merely be a crush; a simple teen infatuation. No. He's only been working with Howard for a month now and been friends with him only a year at that - but he knows with all his heart that he'd do anything for the man sitting next to him that night. Even if he never returned Vince's feelings; the skinny, awkward-looking, effeminate boy would willingly give his life for Howard TJ Moon.
He keeps staring at him for a second longer than he told himself was best and that was all Howard needed to notice him at last. He turned his head to look down at his little apprentice, catching that 'look' he saw a lot from his strange friend. Howard liked that look. He liked Vince. Well, Vince was the only person in the world that smiled at him, let alone looked at him like 'that'. Like he was royalty. No, better yet, divinity.
And Howard figures if someone as simple as sweet, little, nice but dim Vince could notice the potential and importance in him then surely he must deserve it. He wishes the rest of the world could look at him like that. But, for now, on this special night, he's content with just having his eyes on him, nurturing his ego. Then, when he realizes he's been caught, Vince looks away and back at the lights, the red tint in his cheeks more visible from the winter chill on his pale face.
Howard smiles, affectionately, and squeezes his friend's shoulder; "Y'avin' fun, little man?"
"Mmmm," Vince nods whilst taking a sip of his latte. He feels Howard's thumb rub into the top of his arm and he buckles on his seat slightly, covering it up with a shiver. "J-just a bit cold…"
"Dunno why, you're wrapped up like a sausage roll. That old man tried to put Daddies brown sauce on you earlier."
Vince giggles; "'E wouldn't 'ave liked me if he'd tried me though. M'all bony - 'e may as well gone for a twiglet."
"Ah, some old Moon family recipe Mince Pies will sort that out for ya and put some meat on you."
"You mean those ones from Tesco's I saw in the cupboard this afternoon?"
"…It's a popular recipe." Howard retorted lamely, hiding his facial expressions betrayal behind his Starbucks cup.
Vince grinned, allowing himself another moment to appreciate how cute Howard got whenever he was embarrassed or outsmarted. The way the sides of mouth would crook up towards his fuzz of a newborn moustache above his upper lip. His mouth waters as he begins to envy the lid of that coffee cup. Too often Howard would tell him off for not paying attention when being taught about his roles as a zookeeper and daydreaming instead. And he was right, Vince was daydreaming. Daydreaming about how that those lips and moustache would feel against his own mouth. About how it would feel to have to those large, manly hands holding him firmly, controlling him, owning him. No wonder he got mistaken for a simpleton when he spent most of his time drooling like one.
And that's the most obvious he knows he can ever allow his affections to be. As well as stealing as many chances as possible for a brush of fingers, sitting close as they were just then, or even a hug if Vince got lucky. He knows that asking for more would be like asking for the moon, which he'd tried once before and the outcome had been dully predictable;
"I'm the Moon. And I 'and't been made to exist at this time so I'm not at liberty to say anythin'. Ask me again after series one, you stupid lady. I'm the Moooon….eventually."
But it's not important. Vince doesn't need an extra cell in his brain to know he's a lucky kid by nature. Even if his road does have a few bumps along the way, he skips over them with a sunshine smile on his face, and can walk confidently over the rest of the smooth path, just so long as he's got Howard walking beside him. Then everything's okay.
He feels the older man shuffle closer beside him. Vince's heart beings to beat erratically but thankfully the whimsical sound of 'Away In A Manger' drowns it out. He wishes Howard would stop looking at him, through him, and he doesn't understand why when surely that's something he wants…
"You wanna go back to the hut soon?" Howard asks gently, as he always is, even when he's attempting to be bossy and aloof. As if he thinks Vince is something precious and fragile.
The hut is where they're staying for Christmas, neither having a better option, not with Howard having severed all ties to his estranged family and Vince never having had a family for the past six years - and Bryan Ferry being a Buddhist. So all the two had was each other in a small, slightly dilapidated zookeepers hut - more than enough.
Vince nodded slowly; "…In a little bit. Just wanna finish my coffee."
A coffee that was already lukewarm. He was prepared to drag out the moment until it was caffine ice in a cup.
He looks up at the towering Christmas tree in the garden square, to the glowing gold star atop it; "…S'beautiful, ain't it."
"Mmm…" He hears Howard murmur in agreement. "Perfect."
Vince lets himself move closer to Howard so that their thighs are touching. He allows his head to rest against a broad shoulder and relaxes when the older man doesn't shrug him off. Instead, Howard wraps an arm around his slight frame and holds him protectively closer. He sighs with a feel of pure ecstasy, feeling so safe and loved, he can't think of anything better to ask for. And for a brief moment, Vince lets himself believe he can feel a pair of lips brush against his hair through the fabric of his hat. But he knows that that might be stretching his luck a tad too far for one night.
-x-x-
Present Day.
"Vince!…Vince?!….VINCE!"
Howard grabbed a plush orange pillow from the sofa and threw it across to hit his sparkly room-mate lightly on the head. Only then did Vince finally turn to meet him, having apparently not heard him over the festive but loud music on the CD-player, turning his attention away from whatever he was doing beside the Christmas tree with a worn looking cardboard box beside him. He frowned, seeing Howard's fuming expression and leaned across to turn down the volume slightly on the system.
"What!?" he snapped back, reacting the tension Howard had already brought with him into the room.
"Turn that music down! We're gonna get complaints from the neighbours!"
Vince's eyes flashed smugly; "I just did turn it down."
"Yeah, only after I was able to get your attention from…What are you doing? You're not still putting decorations up, are you?" It was Christmas Eve after all.
Yet, that seemed to be what Vince was doing as he finished hanging a blue and gold bauble on one branch of the Christmas tree that already resembled a tall green Buckaroo of trinkets and hangings.
"Naboo 'ad to clear out some stuff from the cellar and I found those ol' decks we used to 'ave at the zoo." Vince's face softened again as he admired the nostalgic treasures. He looked up at Howard; "C'mon, check 'em out, they're genius."
The older man frowned, shrugging the strap of a duffel bag onto his shoulder; "I thought you were going out on the town with your Camden cult tonight."
Vince then did something that shocked Howard a bit and shrugged, non-plussed; "'Was gonna. Then I started lookin' at these and changed my mind." he picked out a glass-painted reindeer figurine and held it preciously in his hands; "Wow. Never thought I'd see this again…"
Howard recognised the figurine and also couldn't help but feel a twinge of wistfulness. He hadn't seen that particular decoration since they'd left the zoo. The paint on the reindeer was scratched in parts and the glass slightly chipped but it was still in good condition. Howard wasn't sure exactly where it came from, only that Vince had bought it with him when he'd arrived at the zoo with nothing but a small battered suitcase of random belongings, including that reindeer.
Vince bounced up from his cross-legged sit in beneath the tree and placed the reindeer on the coffee table beside the sofa, facing forwards as if watching the telly. Howard felt a stir of fondness at the return of that innocent twinkle to Vince's smile that occurred so rarely these days but shook it off.
"So that's what you plan to do for tonight, is it? Make the flat look even more like the North Pole's Spearmint Rhino - if that's even possible?" Howard retorted.
"Nah, that's enough. Anymore and I think the tree's gonna be asking for a chiropractor in a sec." said Vince, closing the box beside him back up. He then looked up to Howard, puppy dog eyes in place; "Couldn't put this up to the attic for us, could ya Howard?"
Howard glowered back at him. He'd been fooling himself to believe that the return of the old Vince-from-the-zoo was truly possible. The little shit box just wanted him to do a job that he'd clearly been asked to do. And after the way he'd been treated this year, Howard thought he deserved the right to scoff at such a favour.
"Think again, sparkly Nick," Howard replied haughtily, looking at Vince's ridiculous (though just a bit adorable) red Father Christmas hat with silver lightning bolts knitted into the fabric; "You're not getting me to do your work for you again, not tonight."
"But I've only got weak, little arms." pouted Vince, "You're the strong manly man."
Howard was just about done. As he always was whenever Vince used tricks like that on him.
No! No more. That was his new years resolution. No more letting Vince walk over him like a doormat. No more being made to look like Vince Noir's bitch. No more, sir!
"Thanks Howard, you're a diamond."
Howard blinked and found himself walking up a step-ladder with a box of antique decorations in his arms. Wait! What the…?! He groaned and pushed the box up through the hatch and then got down.
Every. Single. Time.
Fuming at having let himself give in once again to Vince's charms, he grabbed his duffel bag again and slung it over his shoulder.
"Where you goin'?" Vince asked. Howard's heart fluttered again; Vince always did sound cute when he was confused.
"Jazzercise meet-up." He practically grunted back.
"On Christmas Eve? Who goes to work out on Christmas Eve?"
"It's not to work out, Vince. Not completely anyway. It's just a gathering of members for a quiet, calm, social event." Howard explained impatiently.
"But it's Christmas Eve!" Vince made clear for the umpteenth time; "Do all jazzy freaks have no family or friends so they all get together at this time or something?"
Howard felt something inside him crack and he rounded on Vince angrily; "Yes, Vince, something like that, you're right! The same reason you and your little Camden idiots get together instead of being with family or anyone else."
"But I'm not goin' out with them this year, I told you." Vince said back, seriously; "I cancelled goin' out with them 'cause…I thought you'd be in."
"Ah! So I was the safe bet was I, just because you didn't feel like going out and you knew boring old Howard would be in, yes?"
"That's not what I meant!" Vince replied, hurt flashing in those baby blues.
Howard pretended not to notice. Even though he knew, deep down, that was unfair.
"Well, too bad Vince, tonight you're just gonna have to be the one who stays in while Howard Moon shares himself with people that truly appreciate him."
"Right and what is it that most of them think your name is? Hamish Dune?"
Howard narrowed his eyes; "That's just an in-joke, of course they all know my real name. On most days."
"Look, why are you being such a Scrooge this year? You really wanna spend Christmas Eve with a bunch of boring old folks instead of with me?"
"Not everything is about you Vince, if you can begin to fathom such a possibility," replied Howard, "These people share the same opinion as me about this pathetic excuse for a holiday. It's nothing more than a way to get people to open their wallets."
"You used to love Christmas though."
"Exactly. 'Used to'. When I was young, simple and naïve. People change, Vince, they grow up - something you should really try once and a while."
Vince merely smirked back. Howard used the old 'grow up' insult a lot and it was now becoming beyond a joke. But Vince's motto was that he'd rather be a happy big kid than a miserable old fart.
"Fine then, go spend the night with the rest of your weird 'kind' if that's what you want. Why don't you just spend tomorrow with them if they mean that much to you?" He turned on his heel to walk towards the kitchen.
Howard took a deep breath.
"I am."
Vince froze. He then very, very slowly, turned around to face Howard.
His face was blank, unreadable; "…What?"
"I…I'm staying with Lester Corncrake tomorrow, Vince."
The air in the room was suddenly so thick that it could be sliced with a steak knife. Neither of the boys could remember there ever having been such a silence between them. A wanting, uncomfortable, fragile silence at that. Vince felt numb inside. He was almost afraid his limbs had lost all feeling. His throat was dry and his hands suddenly clammy. Remembering himself, he shook out of his trance, his face hardening again.
"You serious?" He forced a laugh as fake as his hair colour; "You really wanna spend Christmas with that old geezer?"
"He's my friend, Vince." Howard replied, secretly knowing what a stretch that statement was.
"What about me?" Vince shot back, unable to hide the slight squeak in his voice; "…And Naboo and Bollo? Are we not good enough for you now?!"
"If you lot are supposed to be my friends then why would I need enemies? I am not spending another meaningless holiday around people who only keep me around to make a joke of me!"
"But…" Vince's eyes wavered; "W-we always spend Christmas together…"
"I told you, I hate Christmas! So just let it go, Vince and stop annoying me for once!"
With an abrupt turn on his heel, Howard slung the slipping bag back up over his shoulder again. Except, this time, he accidentally hit the glass reindeer on the side table and failed to notice it totter blindly to the edge and then off the sides before Vince could leap to save it. He squealed, rushing across the room and trying to reach it in time but was far too late.
SMASH.
Howard turned back at the sound of broken glass and looked down to see the glass reindeer lying in three pieces on the hardwood floor. Vince had fallen to his knees before the debris and was staring forlornly down at it in shock. Howard swallowed a bubble of guilt.
"I…V-Vince, I'm sorry." he stammered, watching the crushed look dawn on the younger man's face.
Vince ignored him and leaned forward to gather up the tiny pieces in his hands. His bottom lip wobbled as a whimpered breath escaped him.
Oh god, thought Howard, Please don't cry.
If there was anything that made Howard more uncomfortable, it was the sight of someone - anyone - but especially Vince, crying. When he cried he needed comfort. Touching. It just wasn't something Howard was good at. Not lately, anyway. When he was younger it had been a bit easier. When the boundaries weren't so clearly defined and the fences had been softer. Howard's hands just clung nervously to the strap of his duffel bag.
"Uhm…I think Naboo's got some of that magic glue in his cupboard downstairs." he croaked, pathetically; "You want me to help you or-"
"Just shit off." Vince swore fiercely under his breath.
"Now no need for language like that. It's just a glass reindeer. Did you see me getting all upset when you smashed my jazz record earlier this year?"
"Yes."
Howard bit his lip. He didn't know what else to say or do. Vince was just staring down at the pieces in his hands as if expecting them to mend themselves. Howard's stomach twisted and he did the only thing he was sure he was any good at in that kind of situation. He ran away.
Or, more accurately, walked very briskly down the steps and out of the shop. The winter wind battered his face as soon as he left the house and he could hear its chanting clearly;
Coward. Coward. Coward. Coward.
"I thought I told you to shut up, wind!" he spat into the frosty air.
-x-x-x-x-
Vince carried the fragments of painted glass carefully down the stairs and into the shop. He laid them carefully on the green-lit counter and searched the shelves behind for some of that magic glue Howard had been on about. But the best he was able to find was some pritt stick. He smiled sadly to himself, his mind flashing back to rolling around in the bushes behind his school, munching the stuff before being found by an older boy in a brown jumper, looking at him like he was insane.
Then he frowned. Had that even happened? His past seemed to be a patchwork quilt of confused moments without any continuity of each other sewn together. Sometimes he confused dreams with actual memories. It created a safety blanket to delude himself into believing that Howard had always been a constant in his life. Whether that was true or not, it was becoming less relevant now a days as the real Howard seemed to be slipping through his fingers.
Every year he seemed to get worse. The once proud, adventurous, confident Man of Action had slowly eroded with each passing Christmas until he changed into the bitter, pathetic, self-deprecating cynic that he was today. The twinkle of hope in those brown eyes had all but dimmed.
Vince knew that was partly his fault. Or at least that's what Howard would have everyone believe. It was all down to Vince always flaunting his never-ending luck in his face. Vince always getting the attention and praise that Howard so desperately craved. Vince always being able to have the last laugh. And Vince did feel guilty, even though he knew that none of these faults of his had been deliberately to hurt Howard. He couldn't help that he was lucky. Or popular. Or happy. And a lot of the time this got to Vince and he'd throw back whatever callous blow Howard dealt out to him. Often, recently, without much of a push from the older man. He convinced himself whenever he'd feel a twinge of remorse for Howard that it was only revenge for ten years of being treated like an annoying lapdog; given orders without gratitude and then left out in the cold when he wasn't wanted. But, in all honestly, all Vince wanted was for Howard to notice him. Really notice him the same way Vince had noticed him since the day they'd met, even when Howard had just been a dull looking boy that no one would've picked out of a crowd - except for Vince.
Only now he'd found out that his scheme had worked the opposite of what Vince wanted. He'd ended up pushing Howard even further away and now the older man didn't even want to spend Christmas with him. He couldn't even bear to stay in the same room as him anymore. How long would it be before the day came when Vince would awaken to find Howard's side of the room empty and his bags packed?
His hands that had been trying carefully to glue together the pieces of the broken reindeer began to shake with fear at the thoughts going through his mind. He could still remember being given the figurine even though he can't have been older than five or six. He remembered the warm, feminine hands passing it gently to him and the sugar sweet smile of that person who was now long since dead. This was all he had left of her and now it was a symbol for his and Howard's shattered friendship. When the pritt stick failed to hold the pieces together, Vince huffed and gave up, something even he knew was out of character.
There must have been something he could do to fix him and Howard. He knew what his friend really needed was his Christmas spirit back, something he'd known for a while now had been laying dormant inside the maverick, especially from another recent argument;
"I just don't see the point in it, Vince. It's not like either of us are even religious."
"It's the 21st Century. Or the 20th...I'm not sure what year we're in, it's pretty vague. But hardly anyone still believes in Christmas being about Jesus saving the world from aliens anymore. That's not what Christmas is about - it's about being thankful for what you've got around you."
"That's Thanksgiving."
"Well, we're not American, so Christmas is our Thanksgiving."
"It doesn't matter, the point still stands. After all, what have I got to be thankful for? I'm a lowly shopkeeper and failed musician who lives with a stoned wizard, a gorilla that hates me and an imbecile in love with his own reflection - so WHAT do I have to be thankful for?!"
"…"
"What?"
"Nothin'. You're right…"
Him. He couldn't be thankful for him. That had kicked Vince had in the gut with the truth of how important he was to Howard. He was nothing more than a vain imbecile. It didn't matter that Vince was the only one who was willing to spend the majority of his life with Howard. It didn't matter that Vince would always help him out whenever he asked for it and even when he didn't. It didn't matter that Vince would - and had in the past - risked life and limb to save the clumsy Northern git.
None of it mattered. He didn't matter.
Maybe he should've spent Christmas Eve with Leroy and the others. At least they'd have wanted to be with him. Even if it was just to admire his hair or his clothes. At least he wouldn't have been left on his own. Again. He was just about to pick up the phone on the counter when he heard a voice call behind him.
"Help me….Help me, please…"
Vince's head whipped around. The voice was so faint and weak that it sounded like the wind was crying; "Someone there?"
"Please…help me…Anyone….the cellar…"
Leaving the shattered pieces on the counter, he moved around the back, trying to work out where the voice was coming from. But there was no one to be seen apart from his reflection in one of the many crystal balls on the shelves.
"Are you hurt….whoever you are?" he called back, confused. "I can't see you."
"Come to the cellar…The cellar…"
"Where are you?" Vince asked, peering around for signs of life.
"Look in the fucking cellar! Jeez."
Vince turned and found himself standing in front of the large, ominous-looking wooden door that led to Naboo's cellar beneath the shop, filled with all his most shady of merchandise. Normally both Howard and Vince were allowed access into the dark chamber. But last week Naboo had specifically told them to stay out of it as he'd captured some 'bad ju ju' and after their last experiences with meddling with Naboo's spells, the two had made no objections to obeying him.
But the voice sounded so sad. Therefore Vince concluded that that made it okay to disregard everything Naboo said once again and open the door…
Next chapter is a lot shorter so shouldn't be too long. Reviews would be lovely.
