Title: Never The Same

Pairing: Howince

Summary: Howard storms out after yet another fight.

Word Count: 1,093

Rating: G

Genre: Angsty fluff

Disclaimer: They're not mine. Anyone who tries to tell you otherwise is a downright liar.

Author's Notes: This is the first fic I wrote for the fandom. I wrote it a while ago, and I don't really like it that much, but I thought I may as well post it anyway. I don't like the characterisation. But I suppose for a first go it's not too bad.

*~*~*~*

Ever since The Kiss, things have changed between us.

We're fighting more and more often now, over the littlest of things. Things that before would only result in a playful insult now escalate into full-blown fights. Just like this one tonight. I can't remember what it was about (I never can anymore), but I know that we're drifting apart.

As you slam the door behind you, I can't help but wonder where we went wrong. Or, more to the point, where I went wrong. I know that there's something I should have done, or said, and you wouldn't have stormed out like that. Or maybe it was something that I shouldn't have done or said. To be honest, you're a complete mystery to me, probably because we're so different. But despite our differences, I still stick around, don't I? Unlike you; your first big break and you kick off. I've always let you tag along, even though every single time I do, you seem to do something that wrecks it. But that doesn't make me ditch you. I wasn't going to if me and The Black Tubes made it big time; I still would have dragged you along with me.

I know why I'm so attached to you, but it seems that from the way you just took off without even a proper goodbye, it's not the same on both ends. I don't mind, really. Well, that's a lie; I do mind. But I try to forget it, and just think about other things instead. I'm not as shallow or thick as you probably think; I just get distracted easily. Like by my hair, or clothes. Speaking of which...

*~*~*~*

You stagger back in and slam the door behind you (again), smelling vaguely of cheap booze and cigarettes, and for the first time in a while I'm rendered speechless. I'm momentarily puzzled as to why you went out in the first place, but then I remember. Once again, my short attention span has distracted me from more important things; from you.

"What happened to you?" is all I can say, and you reply with a barely audible mumble before you go into your room. I imagine you flopping down onto your bed haphazardly, an action you definitely wouldn't do sober. I sigh, and get up to go try to sort out this mess that we've made, even though in the back of my mind I know that I'll probably just make it worse.

I go into your room, and you're sprawled out on your bed just like I had imagined. As I look at you lying on your bed, I realise that your current state is because of me. This is the first time you've stormed out and returned in such a shape after an argument, and I'm suddenly aware of the fact that it'll probably happen again.

I sigh and decide to help you out of your sandals and socks (really, what were you thinking?) before getting you under the bland sheets.

I'm reminded of all the times when this situation has been reversed; where you're the one looking after me, and I immediately feel guilty. I'm not going to say that this'll make me never get so inebriated ever again, because I know I can't keep that promise. But the guilt is there, so I'll just have to make do with that.

I'm broken out of my thoughts by the sudden feel of your lips upon mine in a drunken kiss. I admit to myself that I haven't forgotten about how your lips feel on mine, and that I've been unable to last a few hours without remembering our kiss on the roof at your party. I then realise that I'm kissing you back.

I pull away reluctantly, and can't help a smile when you pout in disappointment. "Howard," I whisper, not needing to speak any louder due to the silence of the night, "you need to sleep this off, okay? You're drunk; I don't want you doing anything you'll regret. Go to sleep."

I can't help but kiss your forehead lightly as you rest your head on the pillow and closes your eyes. Closing the curtains in your room because I know the next day you'll be hiding from the sunlight, I then

leave your room and go to bed myself.

*~*~*~*

It's about two in the afternoon before you make an appearance. I'd managed to convince Naboo to give the both of us the day off, so I'm watching the television when you come out of your room and sit down near me.

"How are you feeling?" I ask you, making sure there was no way you could find some sort of contempt in my voice. You merely grunt in return, and I'm full of sympathy. We sit in silence for a few minutes, before I decide to ask.

"Uh, Howard," I tentatively ask, slightly unsure of how to pose the question, let alone how you'll react. You look at me through bleary eyes, the result of the hangover. "Do you...I mean, what do you remember about last night? After you came back?"

You look away, and from that I know that you do remember at least something about last night. I know it's too much to hope for that you don't regret kissing me, but I can't help it.

The silence becomes unbearable for me. "Howard?"

"I'm sorry," you mumble softly, and I almost miss it.

"Why?" I ask, confused. I think I have an idea, but I decide to let you explain before I jump to any conclusions.

"I...I kissed you. And you obviously didn't want that. So, I'm sorry," you say, just as quietly as before. I've been drunk enough times to know why you don't seem to have the full story.

"You were drunk, Howard," I say, and you look away, ashamed. "No, let me finish. You were drunk, and when you're drunk you tend to not remember everything that happens. You forgot the fact that I kissed you back."

You look up at me, your eyes going wide as you slowly remember everything. "Oh," you say, and I can tell from the expression on your face that you're about as hopeful as I am.

I close the gap between us and kiss you again, and immediately you begin to kiss me back. It's the first kiss we've had that isn't tainted by alcohol or death threats, and so I consider it our first real one.

Ever since The Kiss, things have changed between us.