Title: Let the Good Times Roll

Author: Concupid

Pairing: Howard/Vince

Summary: Vince thinks things over.

Rating: PG-13

Warnings: some angst, references to past non-con

Author's Note: Back from vacation! Thanks to everyone who is still reading, extra love if you comment.

Vince dreamt about tweed rain. He was happily dancing to Gary Numan's cars when his hand hit something hard but a little squishy. He opened his eyes and found Howard rubbing his cheek.

"You punched me in your sleep," Howard grumbled.

"I was sleep dancing," Vince explained as he reached out to touch Howard's face. When Howard flinched, Vince let his hand hang, mid-air, until Howard rather sheepishly offered his cheek for inspection. Vince knew that animals were instinctively defensive, and he was always thoughtful about his movements around them. He wondered why it took him so many years to recognize the same defensive behaviors in Howard. Maybe it was because animals weren't embarrassed by their instincts. Maybe is was because Vince didn't fancy animals.

"It's fine," Howard mumbled, avoiding Vince's eyes, "It wasn't hard... The punch that is."

Vince's dream fog was clearing and he was suddenly aware of a certain mild ache. That part hadn't been a dream. He and Howard had taken that symbolic step.

Vince's face burned as his mind raced with confused memories. He'd been so eager to take that particular step, maybe he had misread Howard's signals.

"No harm done?" Howard asked, trying too hard to sound casual as his eyes darted about the room.

Vince was confused for a moment before he realized he was still stroking Howard's cheek.

"You look fine," Vince said, his voice sounding strained to his own ears, "You look well handsome."

Howard turned pink, "Thanks, Little Man."

Vince brushed Howard's hair back from his face, "You're due for a trim."

Howard went from pink to bright red.

"Whenever you're ready for a haircut, I ain't gonna do nothin' to you while your sleepin'," Vince announced, wondering why he couldn't seem to think before he spoke like other people.

Howard ducked behind his shaggy hair, but nodded, "I could... I'd appreciate that."

Vince wanted to throw his arms around Howard, but settled for kissing his shoulder. Howard was still fully dressed, he'd just adjusted his clothes enough to make sex possible and then tucked himself back in.

"I thought you wanted to because you were groping my arse an' all. I didn't mean to push you."

The words hung in the air, irretrievable now that they had been said.

Vince promised himself he wouldn't speak until Howard spoke. He needed to stop guessing what Howard was thinking and start listening.

Things had been going so well, his friend had seemed nervous but excited. Howard had been making all kinds of sexy faces, like he was really into it, and then - nothing. His face went blank and pale, and he started shaking. Vince had wanted to call Naboo, but he was too ashamed. Naboo would have known straight away what had happened and who was to blame.

"I did want to," Howard replied, very quietly, "I wasn't thinking about it at the moment... but, I did want to..."

Vince held his tongue and tried to figure out what was going on in Howard's mind. Howard looked at a sunny day and saw the risk of melanoma. Howard found tragedy everywhere he looked. Vince thought for the millionth time that it should have been him that was kidnapped. If their roles had been reversed, Vince would be in his bed in England being administered tepid tea through an IV. Howard would have draped Vince in shades of brown until the world seemed manageable again, he wouldn't be running Vince around the city where he was kidnapped, and shagging him literally day and night. Howard wasn't even safe in his own dreams.

If their roles were reversed, Vince probably would have been set free the first day. He saw his charm like a dimmer switch. He knew the setting that drew people in, the setting that dazzled them, and the setting that would send people running. He'd have done Old Gregg's hair and banged on about Gary Numan until the merman decided he was better off alone.

"I just had a moment," Howard continued softly, after a few minutes of silence, "I thought about... what happened and... I don't really remember what happened after that."

Vince had hazy memories of their early shared dreams, back before he knew they were real. He could see Howard, all bruised and broken looking, squinting in the light shining from Old Gregg's tutu. Vince had woken up horrified that his reaction in the dream had been to help Howard perform with Old Gregg rather than rescue him. Surely, even Howard would have had a better plan than to get Vince ready to have coerced sex with a sea freak.

"I thought you would die if you didn't have sex with Old Gregg, in the dreams, I mean. It didn't occur to me to come up with a proper plan or anything," Vince explained, "In those first couple of dreams, I couldn't really think properly."

Vince's phone began blasting "Cars" again. He belatedly realized it had been the alarm on his phone. The alarm played for ten minutes before going silent. He wondered if Howard had slept through until he was sleep-punched by Vince, or if he'd quietly tolerated the noise until Vince woke up.

Howard pulled the covers up under his chin, as though he were too exposed in just one full set of clothes. Vince considered grabbing one of Howard's hats to make him feel a little more covered.

"The other Vince..." Howard was barely whispering, "He didn't just appear. I was thinking of you to..."

Howard closed his eyes, his face crumpled in pain. Vince tucked Howard's sheets tight around his body, he responded well to be cocooned, before resting his head on the big man's shoulder.

"I'm such a coward," Howard sighed.

"Tryin' to survive ain't cowardly, it's tryin' to survive," Vince said gently, carefully keeping his hands to himself, "It's what everyone does."

"Not everyone would have done what I did," Howard said with a hollow laugh.

"I would have," Vince tried to choose his words carefully, "I would have closed my eyes and thought about you. I've done it before..."

Vince winced at the last bit. Things kept coming out of his mouth before his brain cell had time to vet them. The last thing Howard needed was to be reminded of Vince's shady sexual history. Howard had barely tolerated being touched before his kidnapping. He hadn't been in clubs looking for anonymous sex with people who didn't care what name you cried out, as long as they got off. If their roles had been reversed, the worst thing for Vince would have been wondering if Howard thought he was disgusting for using sex to get out of being killed.

"Good thing I turned up," Vince continued, "Your Vince was rubbish. He just made you feel bad."

Howard straight ahead and nodded.

"What kind of things did he say to you that made you so upset?" Vince asked, "Did he make fun of your crow's feet? Cause they're dead sexy, and your hair is soft and gentle and I like it..."

Vince paused to give Howard a chance to tease him or do a little bragging, but his little, worried eyes were staring straight ahead.

"What could he have said that was so bad?"

And then it clicked.

"Howard," Vince slowly placed a hand on Howard's chest, "I saw what they did to you. I was afraid they were going to kill you before I could find you. I'm sorry for what you had to do to stay alive, but I'm not sorry you did them. My life would be nothing without you."

"Don't say that, Vince..."

"It's true. You're the only person who really knows me and likes me anyway."

"Everybody likes you, Little Man."

"'Cause they don't really know me. I just left you shiverin' instead of callin' Naboo 'cause I didn't want him to know what I was doin' to you. He don't know how selfish I am."

Vince tried not to cry, but the tears came and soon his was wrapped in Howard's arms and breathing in his scent. Even now, he couldn't quite sacrifice a cuddle from Howard even though he knew things had gone all backwards. Howard was comforting Vince for being sad about being selfish and Vince was letting it happen instead of putting the focus back on Howard.

But Howard felt so warm and safe. He remembered every touch Howard had ever given him. He pulled those memories out of his brain box on a daily basis and remembered every embrace, pat or push in vivid detail. He could barely picture Mrs. Gideon's face, but he could feel exactly where Howard's fingers had grabbed his chin as he told Vince to stay away. Howard being jealous of Mrs. Gideon had been absurd, but stoking that jealousy had been a sure fire way to get attention.

"I'm such a brat," Vince sighed into Howard's neck, "But no one will ever love you as much as I do. I'm gonna keep messin' up, but I will always love you and I'll never ever be sorry I had the chance to show you how much I love you. You got nothin' to feel ashamed about, Howard."

Howard's shoulders were shaking.

Vince had hoped Howard topping him would put things right, get their dynamic back on track. Vince's fantasies had almost always involved Howard being 'the man' in their relationship. Being a man was so important to Howard and Vince really didn't give a toss. He was perfectly happy with being a man, it was genius at times, but he could never get excited about being masculine or worried about being feminine.

"My folks were amazin'," Vince mused, "They always just let me be who I was and never fussed about actin' a certain way."

"They were wonderful people," Howard agreed in a strangled voice.

"An' if it weren't for you, I probably would have ended up givin' in and just bein' normal. I wouldn't be me if I didn't have you 'round to love me no matter what I did. Not sure that's an entirely good thing, but it's true..."

Howard broke free of his cocoon and gave Vince a near suffocating hug. They held one another for a while before Howard started placing hesitant kisses on Vince's neck. Vince had set the alarm two hours early, anticipating he would end up all over Howard at least once more before they went out. He was getting better at planning, maybe he could be change after all.