A/N: this is another flashback chapter, i know you want more of the story but i like writing these to fill in the blanks and just show why everything happened the way it did. its probably going to be a while for chapter 8 but i will try my best not to leave it as long as it took to get up chapter 6, promise!
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Howard was pushed into a small blonde girl in the middle of the night club, the electro music that played drowned out Howard's apology to the girl but she smiled weakly and wrapped her arms round his neck and began to rub her body against his.
"Whoa there, sir!" he managed to shout over the noise, pushing her away from him. She pointed to her heart and put her other hand on Howard's and mouthed the unmistakable words "I love you" to him before throwing up over her shoes and falling back onto the sofa behind her unconscious. Howard shook his head and began to scan the crowd around him. He'd been looking for Vince for nearly 20 minutes now and there was no sign of him, and as much as he hated to admit it he was getting worried.
Vince had insisted that he go to this rave in Brighton, "Biggest thing since Gary Newman played live" he'd said. So Howard, being the pathetic push over he was when Vince pulled out the puppy eyes and the charm, he'd agreed to take him and stay on the condition that Vince didn't get too drunk to stand so they could leave fairly early and get back before dawn. Problem was it was now 4:43 in the morning, Vince was nowhere to be seen, and they still had a five hour drive back home (A/N: no idea how long it takes to get from London to Brighton so go with me on this one lol). Howard was growing as impatient as he was worried and he swore to himself that he would be firm and unforgiving when he finally found the electro poof.
After another ten minutes of searching (normally, the way Vince dressed, he'd have been spotted a mile away, but everyone in Brighton seemed to dress like him which made the task that much harder) he saw a figure in a bright green jacket and yellow t-shirt walk out of the toilets and towards the door, the same clothes Vince was wearing. Pushing his way through the crowd Howard finally caught up with him and grabbed him by the arm, whirling him round on the spot. As he opened his mouth to speak he realised the man in his grasp wasn't Vince and let go, waving an apology in his direction. The man looked about shiftily and threw his hands in his pockets, running to the door. As he turned Howard realised that no one could be wearing the same outfit as Vince as he'd made it himself the night previously, and then he noticed the slight spattering of blood across the front of the top and jacket sleeve and made a grab for the man again, but he'd already vanished into the crowd.
Turning quickly on his heels Howard ran towards the toilets and threw the door open, his eyes scanning the room in front of him. There were about 7 cubicles, 5 of them with closed doors. "Vince." He called, the music, though dulled by the toilet door, still sounded loudly in his ears. "Vince!" he called louder and was greeted by the sound of quiet whimpering from the end toilet. Running to the cubicle and pushing the door he saw the crumpled body of his best friend draped over the toilet. His top and jacket were gone, his trousers were undone and looked like they'd been forced down his legs as his thighs displayed large red hand marks. Looking at Vince's half shielded face he saw his make up running down his cheeks mixing with the tears from his eyes. His hair was a mess and stuck up at funny angles, covering half his face and sticking to his forehead. His entire body was covered in claw marks and bruises, his left eye looked as though it was beginning to puff up from a punch to the face. Howard lost all resolve he had and threw himself to his knees by Vince's side.
"Vince, oh my God. Vince." Vince turned his head towards Howard and his quiet sobbing turned into drunken wails as tears began to cascade down his cheeks. Howard bent forwards to lift the young mans head towards him when Vince wrapped his arms round Howard's waist, burying his head in his chest as he wept. Howard shivered, Vince's touch like fire to his flesh. If Vince hadn't been drunk he'd never have done that, and if Howard hadn't had a drink himself he would never have wrapped his arms round the small man, but he was, and he did. They sat on the toilet floor for a few minutes, Vince's sobbing growing quieter, Howard making shhing noises in his ear, rocking him slightly. Eventually Vince's crying stopped and Howard helped him pull his trousers back round his waist and gave him his muffin corduroy jacket to wear. They walked out the club hand in hand, Vince clutching to him for dear life, his eyes wide as they darted around the club in search of his attacker. Howard held Vince's hand just as hard, afraid to let him go and lose him in the crowd, afraid to end the feeling of pure pleasure he felt holding onto the skinny mans hand. Once outside in the cold winter air Vince's grip didn't loosen, he just pulled his body close to Howard's as they walked back to the van, afraid of every shadow and alley they passed. He'd told Howard that the man that attacked him just ruffed him up and took his clothes, then left, but Howard had the distinct impression from Vince's reactions that it was more, but didn't press the matter. When they got back to the van and Howard turned the key in the van door Vince burst into sobs again, his body vibrating with each breath against Howard's body, his heart breaking slightly as he grabbed the young man by the shoulders and they fell to the floor in each others arms.
"I'm sorry." Vince spluttered, salty tears staining Howard's shirt a dirty black as they mixed with his makeup. "I'm su-such a fu-fuck up." he stuttered, gripping tightly to Howard's clothes as he continued to cry.
"Hey, you're not a fuck up." Vince sobbed harder and Howard took a chance, grasping the man by his chin and forcing their eyes to meet, their noses inches from one another. "Listen to me, you're not a fuck up. What that guy did to you was wrong and by no means your fault." Vince's lip began to quiver and Howard moved his hand up Vince's face and stroked his cheek warmly. "I was so worried about you." He looked deep into Vince's eyes, Vince looking back into his, and wondered how anyone would want to hurt someone as beautiful as this. Then without warning, Vince closed the gap between them and placed a hard kiss on Howard's lips before pulling back and looking back into Howard's eyes.
"I-I'm sorry." he choked, but Howard's hand moved behind his head and he pulled Vince into a second kiss, just as hard as the first only more passionate and fierce. Their lips stayed locked for what felt like eternity until eventually Howard pulled away. He didn't know why he'd done it, not only was it very un-Howard like but after what had just happened to Vince it wasn't the best of ideas at all. But Vince just sat, his eyes closed, mouth still poised in a kiss, until his lids slowly parted and he was looking into Howard's awkward smile. Licking his lips slowly, Vince rose from the ground, pulling Howard to his feet by his hands and moved round to the back of the van. Vince took the keys from Howard's hand and began to open the doors at the back. Howard's hand began to slip from his grip and he turned to look at him. He had a worried expression on his face, like a wary cat by a pond, an enormous fish swimming just below the slippery surface.
"I dunno Vince, I mean we're drunk, it doesn't- it doesn't feel right, its just-" Vince's finger pushed against Howard's lips, instantly halting his sentence. He finished unlocking the van doors and pulled Howard inside the van, shutting the doors behind the nervous jazz maverick.
The next morning Howard awoke with a pounding headache, his entire body was freezing cold and he was shivering. As he began to sort through the fragmented memories of the night before his eyes shot open as he felt the soft touch of naked skin on his own. Turning next to him he saw the sleeping form of Vince, his body scratched all over, shivering slightly on the cold floor of the van. Howard brought a hand to his face and began quietly swearing to himself.
Slowly he rose and got dressed, gently pulling Vince's trouser's on him and grabbing a blanket from the passengers side of the van and practically rolling Vince up in it. He didn't want the young man to wake, but he wanted him to freeze to death even less. Glancing at the clock on the dashboard he cursed to himself realising it was nearly half 11 and they were parked down a back alley, the van in full view of the passers by, he was just glad the police hadn't found them. Gingerly he picked up his sleeping friend but from previous experience knew this wouldn't wake him after the night he'd had. He gently placed him in the passengers seat, once again tucking him into the blanket quite thoroughly so as not to get a draught, and sat in the driver's seat, hands on the steering wheel.
There Howard sat for 5 minutes, his eyes on the road in front of him, keys in the ignition, hands on the steering wheel, motionless, unthinking. Then, the big question. How? How had last night led to him and Vince doing- he couldn't think. His grip tightened and he glanced at Vince as he shifted in his sleep, turning his head to face Howard. Howard's mood eased off then, his grip loosening. Vince looked so contented asleep. Howard was sure last night would never have happened under normal circumstances, if it had been someone else in stead of Howard Vince would probably have done the same with them, maybe even gone further than they did, Howard's own fears stopping them from full sexual contact. Howard swallowed. It was all so confusing. Turning the key in the ignition the van sprang to life and Howard began the long journey back home.
When Vince awoke he had no recollection of the night before, causing Howard's heart to break in his chest although he half expected the response. Howard filled in most of the blanks for Vince, missing out the scene's that followed them leaving the club, and just said they both crashed in the front of the van when they left. Vince, though suffering a worse hangover than Howard, was his usual bubbly self when they finally arrived back at the flat and went about sorting out his appearance, leaving Howard alone in their bedroom, silently crying on Vince's bed, clutching his jacket to his chest, the smell of Vince's sweat and aftershave filling Howard's nostrils as he locked the memories of their night of passion deep in his heart, never to see the light of day again.
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Sorry, couldn't help myself, fluff! Lol I will update asap, I know I've been saying that a lot recently and then not delivering, but I really am sorry and I really will get onto writing and updating, just gotta try and free up my planner a bit and get my laptop out more often. Email me threats if I take too long, that seems to work lol