Author's Note: 2:36am *yawns*

Disclaimer: I do not own the Boosh

Warnings: Don't really think there is any unless you maybe count the ending?

"Hey, come on now…" Howard's voice was barely above a whisper. This wasn't a joke; he couldn't just shove Vince away or yell for him to not touch him, not when he was like this.

It was dark in their little room, a single shaft of moonlight flickering in weakly through the gap in the curtains, casting shadows.

Vince was in his bed, lying against his chest, clinging to his pyjama top as if he'd never let him go. It was an almost angry grip, Howard decided, not an anger towards him, or even his 'aw, hideous!' pyjama top, but an anger towards something that was locked away in Vince's psyche.

The smaller man's skin was hot and clammy, his tears soaking through the material of the maverick's nightwear, breath coming in fast, short gasps and coughs that made his back shudder.

Howard's hand rubbed up and down Vince's back soothingly, over the bare skin, feeling the bones tremble underneath. The feeling of alarm at feeling Vince's bare flesh against his own skin had soon passed, and now he felt nothing but passive warmth.

His other hand was up in Noir's hair, fingers laced through the thick ebony locks, and no, he hadn't gotten used to the privilege of being able to touch Vince's hair- he knew it was a very intimate, dramatic thing for Vince, and he still hadn't gotten over the strange sense of self-importance it gave him to be able to run a hand through it.

"Shh…"

Briefly, he wondered what Vince's army of friends would think if they knew about this secret side of Vince Noir. Would they even care?

He had spent sleepless nights wondering what exactly it was that troubled his Little Man (maybe someone was being horrible to him? Maybe it was just something trivial? Maybe it was… about his birth parents?) and it wasn't like these episodes were recent either, he remembered cosy, but slightly uncomfortable nights on the floor of the Zooniverse, huddled in sleeping bags, and hearing the unhappy little sounds of Vince crying beside him. Back then, the feeling of wanting to say something, anything to help him had crushed his chest.

It had only been a month ago that, after hearing those sad little sounds, he had found the courage to call out to Vince, ask him to come here. He had thought it would be awkward, all that initiating a hug and whatnot, but Vince had sorted that out for him by clambering aboard his bed and collapsing in sobs against him; all he had to do was put his awkward arms around him.

And now, tonight, he had the courage to do something else.

"Vince…" he whispered, "Vince?"

Vince merely nodded against his chest in return.

"You… can you tell me what all this is about?"

A head shake.

"That's alright then, I understand, Little Man. But… well…" he took a breath so deep Vince moved with the rise and fall of his chest, "I'm always here- I- I mean… I'll always, y'know, be here, it you need me at all…"

He felt Vince clutch at him tighter, and they were silent for a few minutes, listening to heartbeats and soft breathing and the patter of the rain hitting the window.

It was Vince who moved. He delicately arranged himself so that he was leaning over Howard, the ends of his hair brushing his face. His hands came up, one caressing the side of his face and the other going through his chocolate waves. His lips pressed softly and suddenly against the maverick's, and Howard wasn't sure how long it was before Vince pulled away.

Howard licked his lips subconsciously, tasting tears.

"I love you too, y'know," Vince said very quietly and matter-of-factly, moving back to his own bed.

Not 'I love you' followed by a laugh, or 'I like you', but 'I love you too.'

As if he already knew just how much Howard loved him before the man himself suddenly realised it.

Author's Note: Well, did you like it? ^_^