This chapter turned into an absolute monster, sorry! I blame Howard. I always blame Howard and then he calls me a tart and I poke my tongue out at him and he laughs and makes me breakfast in bed... Sorry, drifted off there for a bit. But yeah, this chapter's long and contains adult activities. Enjoy.

Howard was confused. No, he'd gone beyond confusion into perplexity and next stop was complete mystification. He'd done everything right and yet still, somehow, it had all gone wrong. It was the story of his life but he'd actually thought life was going to get better now. He wrapped his arms more firmly around Vince as the smaller man shook with sobs and gasped quietly into the pillow. It was breaking Howard's heart but he wasn't sure what he was supposed to do. He didn't like physical contact, generally speaking, and so he wasn't sure what the rules were. What was expected of a boyfriend when his partner was crying forlornly after a night that Howard would have described as filled with mind blowing love-making? What was the protocol when you were holding someone you loved as they cried their heart out, and you weren't entirely sure why? Vince wasn't responding to anything he said and it was starting to make his own eyes prickle with tears.

He tried to think back to pinpoint what might have caused a breakdown at three in the morning but it was hard to recall the previous night's events without his heart starting to race and his... manly parts... getting excited. He was pretty sure Vince wouldn't appreciate that right now. And yet...

Howard opened the door for Vince and watched as he made his way up the stairs to the flat with an equal parts fear and excitement. He liked letting Vince walk up the stairs ahead of him and now he could finally enjoy it without feeling like a dirty old perv. Vince's small, round arse wiggled delightfully as he walked up the stairs in his red jeans and Howard grinned nervously. He really wanted Vince to like this.

Vince wandered through the flat and up the hallway to their bedrooms but stopped when he opened his door and after a pause turned back to Howard, one eyebrow raised and lips pursed in question. Howard's grin grew wider but more nervous and he concentrated on not looking like a rapist. Their two rooms had once been one large room - before they moved in - but at some point a cheap wall had been put in the middle and an extra door added. It had been roughly done and Howard had always hated it. And so he'd spent each evening of that week carefully removing the wall, and his single bed and Vince's double bed, and turning the space into a haven that both men could enjoy. One large, kingsized bed meant that there was actually more space for Vince's clothing racks and shoe trees and Howard had installed a mirror on the wall where his bed had been. He'd painted the walls pale yellow because it reminded him of sunshine and because Vince hated beige walls and he'd hung their favourite posters on the walls and the paintings Vince had deigned not too horrible to be put on display. Howard loved Vince's art and had tried to take him to galleries when they were younger so that he could talk about the great artists and the deep and intellectual motivations behind the brushstrokes but it'd just made Vince refuse to show his work and Howard had eventually stopped. He wondered if he could convince Vince to start painting again.

Vince stared at Howard for a long moment before turning back to stare at the room for an even longer minute. Howard licked his lips nervously. He'd so wanted to share a room with Vince again, after those years spent in the zoo he'd gotten used to the sound of Vince's snuffling sleep noises and when they'd moved to the flat he'd missed it. And the rooms were supposed to be one room after all, and Howard thought he'd done a pretty good job in setting the place up so that they'd both be happy with it. The sheets were purple because Vince liked purple and Howard didn't dislike it and they each had their own space in the room so they wouldn't be on top of each other, but Vince wasn't saying anything.

Howard took a tentative step forward and Vince turned at the sound of the floorboards creaking. Howard sucked in his breath at the look in Vince's eyes. They were dancing and brimming with tears and Howard wondered if he'd got things entirely wrong, until Vince smiled.

"Howard," he whispered. "This is genius!"

He walked in to the room and span about, spreading his arms out and letting out a little giggle. Howard followed, carrying Vince's bags, and when he walked through the door Vince sashayed forward to meet him.

"Quite the gesture, Howard," he purred, trying and failing to keep a straight face.

"Yes, well-"

"And I've got one for you and all," Vince continued, taking his make-up case from Howard's hand and walking slowly to the new, large bed. He looked over his shoulder at Howard in a way that made his breath hitch, and then he grinned and Howard started to wonder whether he'd fallen asleep and this was just another one of his dreams. Vince patted the mattress and Howard stumbled forward to sit beside him and when he did Vince immediately wriggled his fingers into Howard's hand and pressed their shoulders together.

"I'm no good at words," Vince said quietly, and Howard couldn't help but find his friend's husky voice endearing. He gave Vince's fingers a squeeze, urging him to continue, pleased that Vince was finally able to open up the way he had done.

"I'm not good at saying stuff and I'm not good at writing stuff. I'm not like you. Even before I got... before my eye got... ruined, I wasn't that great at writing. But you like when things are deep and meaningful, when there's thoughts behind the words and feelings behind the pictures and so... so I made you this."

He pulled a notebook from the case and handed it to Howard who took it reverently.

"And this is?"

"Us," Vince replied, staring hard at the cover of the book and Howard thought how strange it always was when Vince was the one avoiding eye contact. "Well, me, then us. It's like a diary or something but, like, retrospective."

"That's a big word."

"Shut up," Vince snorted, but he was smiling again and Howard smiled too, running his hand down the book's cover.

"And you made it for me?"

Vince nodded and then finally looked up at Howard and he could see the affection so clearly in the other man's eyes that all he wanted to do was sweep him into a long and passionate kiss. But he didn't. He filed it away as the first thing to be done after looking in the book. Vince licked the corner of his lip and Howard followed the movement until Vince let out a short laugh and nudged him.

"So read it, you fraggle," he scolded. "Took me ages to do it. You better like it or I'll be furious."

Howard opened the diary and began to flick through the colourful pages. It wasn't set out like an ordinary story but then, the story of Vince and Howard wasn't an ordinary story, he supposed. Drawings and words were mixed together and flowed around each other and Howard thought that it was probably a bit like being inside of Vince's imagination - a place he hadn't managed to get to - because it was so utterly Vince.

He read about Vince as a tiny boy and saw the lovingly drawn portrait of a young Gary, looking more like a super hero than a pop star and the story of the little electric keyboard. He stared at the pictures of two people he didn't recognise and wished that Vince had been gifted to some other couple. He read the stories and the horror and the sadness interspersed with humour and Vince's inner, undeniable magic, which had kept him seeing fairies and dreaming of music and fame when his life was horrible. It was funny, Howard supposed, that Vince's simpleness and optimism had kept him sane when Howard so often thought of those traits as sure signs that Vince was bonkers.

He swallowed uncomfortably when he turned to the page with the word 'Howard' written at the top and a portrait of his young self that was far too flattering. There were pages and pages of stories about Howard but the corners held the stories and scribbles of Vince's early misadventures too: boys kissed, girls explored, drugs and alcohol and cigarettes and dangerous situations. There seemed to be too many angrily doodled images of Vince being hit for Howard's liking and he decided that it was a miracle that Vince had retained his natural naivety, let alone any trust for others.

It took him a long time to read and there were a lot of parts that he skimmed and made mental notes to return to later but even without reading all of the words the book was bursting with emotion and story and Vinceness. It was a treasure. He closed it carefully and looked over at Vince who was studying his nails.

"Thank you little man," he said in a voice that was rough with emotion and when Vince looked up he leaned in and kissed him with all the passion he'd promised when he'd put it at the top of his to do list. Vince sighed and leaned into the kiss, taking the notebook from Howard and placing it on the bedside table.

"I love you, Howard" he said breathlessly as he pressed their foreheads together and Howard responded by kissing him again fiercely.

He only stopped when Vince tried to pull Howard down on top of him.

"No," he said softly as he started to remove his clothes.

Vince looked hurt and confused but the look changed when Howard, finally free of his shirt and shoes and cords and socks and pants, lay down on his back in the centre of the bed.

"I want to do it this way," he said, seeing Vince's eyes widen in surprise and lust. "If you want to."

...

Howard had always been sure he'd like being... bottom. It was Vince's fault. He had never considered the possibility of trying anything that involved an erotic use of his rear end - until Vince had mentioned, just after they left the zoo, that 'everyone's stuck a finger up there at some point or other, to see what all the fuss is about'. He'd been prepared for excruciating pain but it hadn't hurt when he'd done it to himself. It hadn't been convenient either. He'd enjoyed it thoroughly too much and it made for rather awkward self-loving sessions. But it meant that Howard knew, as he pulled Vince down on top of him and began to peel off the man's jeans and blouse, that he would enjoy the act and love that it was Vince doing it. He wasn't disappointed.

Vince was nervous, his hands fluttering over Howard's skin but when Howard confessed that he already knew he enjoyed: "Entertaining the rear guard, so to speak", Vince had gone in to a bit of a frenzy. His kisses had been fiery and passionate and his hands had roamed everywhere. He kissed his way down Howard's torso, stopping to suck and bite at first one nipple, then the other, rubbing his face against Howard's sparsely haired chest and pushing his own hard body, clad only in his little red pants, against Howard's stomach, hips and leg.

Howard started to feel overwhelmed at the sensations of Vince's hands and lips and tongue as he worked his way down and any attempt to keep his breathing steady was abandoned when he felt Vince's own ragged breathing against the wiry hair at the curve of his thigh. Vince sounded as worked up as he felt and the smaller man couldn't seem to keep his hands still. They stroked between Howard's thighs delicately, getting closer with each pass to the place where he desperately wanted them to be. And then he felt something tentative and wet and warm sliding up the shaft of his cock and a deep moan escaped his lips.

He looked down and nearly came on the spot. There was Vince on his knees between Howard's legs, his tongue pressed against the head of Howard's penis and a look on his face that made it very clear that he was enjoying himself thoroughly. He grinned at Howard, who tried to smile back except that Vince took that moment to take the head of his swollen member into his mouth. He moaned again as Vince slid him slowly into his mouth and down his throat. One slender hand stayed on his thigh while the other began to stroke his testicles and Howard couldn't stop the high pitched sigh that escaped his lips. He could feel his face heating up but couldn't tell if it was from embarrassment or the overwhelming arousal that was coursing through his veins. Vince's fingers were massaging behind his balls, pressing into his perineum until he couldn't breathe or think while Vince's mouth sucked his cock, producing the most obscene noises which only increased the sudden, staggering need to come coiling within Howard's belly.

"Vince!" he gasped, letting go of the sheets with one hand to touch Vince's silky hair tentatively. "Vince you have to stop or we'll never get to the... to the... oh, please-"

He moaned as Vince released his length with insane slowness, sure that he was about to explode. Vince pressed his face against Howard's belly, still kissing and licking but now careful to avoid his aching and leaking cock. He made his way back up Howard's body, leaving insistent kisses on every inch of skin available until his face was so close to Howard's their noses were touching.

"You sure about this, lover?"

Howard shivered at the lust he could hear so clearly in the smaller man's husky voice. He nodded. He was more than sure and he was so ready. Vince pressed a desperate kiss to his mouth and Howard tasted himself on his lips. He wanted to remember everything they were doing in detail but there were just to many competing stimulations. Vince slid down his body again and ran his hands down Howard's legs, parting them wider and settling himself between them on the bed. Howard felt the tickle of Vince's fringe against his ball sack and unconsciously spread his legs even wider, his thighs quivering in anticipation. When he felt Vince's tongue licking the delicate skin around his puckered hole he let out a shuddering breath, only then realising he'd been holding it and when he felt that tongue circle and dip and probe his mind simply flew away. He had known it would be good, had loved doing it to Vince, but he still hadn't quite been prepared for what it felt like to have Vince's tongue in his arse.

He moaned again and tried to stop his body twitching about as Vince began to circle his hole with a spit-slicked finger. Vince went slow, licking and sliding his finger in and out with such aching tenderness that Howard thought he would cry. He flung out his arm blindly and grabbed the bottle of lube he had left in easy reach on the bedside table. Vince noticed the action and took the bottle from his shaking fingers, drizzling it down across Howard's testicles and perineum, spreading it with the tips of his fingers to his hole and then pressing two fingers in carefully.

Vince was trying so hard to be careful but Howard just wanted him to go faster, harder. He wanted to tell him but couldn't find his voice so instead he raised his hips and then pushed them down, once, twice, three times, working the fingers in deeper until they hit his prostate. He gasped and heard Vince do the same.

"Please-" he murmured, his head tossing from side to side. "Please-"

Vince responded by removing his fingers and shuffling into position, lifting Howard's legs until his knees were pressed nearly to his chest. He coated his cock with lube and Howard watched, unable to even blink as Vince pushed into him.

Beautiful. It was the only word Howard could think of to describe it all. Vince's cheeks were flushed pink against his white skin and his lips were swollen and red. His pupils were huge, two pools of black laced with delicate blue and his hair hung about his face, framing it perfectly. And his cock... it filled Howard so completely, so perfectly that he realised he actually was crying now. This was what he'd been waiting for his entire life, he realised: this feeling of wholeness, of completeness, of Vinceness. He tried to think how else he could describe the feeling but then Vince began to move his hips, pushing against his prostate and stretching him, electrifying his every nerve ending as he thrust in and out and Howard's brain shut down and let his body take over.

Somehow Vince managed to hold him at the brink of orgasm for longer than he'd thought possible but when it finally happened Howard felt the wave of pleasure build and then break over him like never before. It was so intense that for a few moments afterwards he felt like he was drifting, afloat on a sea of feelings and impressions. He came back to himself as Vince, still buried deep inside him, pushed his legs down to the mattress, leaned in and kissed him almost hard enough to bruise. Howard felt Vince's orgasm rip through him and the foreign sensation of Vince's come spurting into his well stretched passage and a small, secondary wave of pleasure passed through him.

Vince was panting hard, his chest heaving and covered in a sheen of sweat, and he stayed, balanced above Howard on shaking arms, for several minutes before he slowly withdrew and flopped down on the bed next to Howard. When he still didn't say or do anything after a few more minutes Howard glanced over. Vince was still panting, staring up at the ceiling with glassy eyes and a strange little smile on his face.

"Thank you," Howard whispered, and Vince turned his head to look at him quizzically. "For..." Howard stuttered. "That was my first time being, you know... Thank you for making it so special. So amazing. I love you."

Vince gave a tiny nod and cleared his throat.

"I love you too, Howard. And... when we first did it, six months and one week ago, that was my first time being, you know... as well and so... thank you too."

Howard felt as though the bed had disappeared and he was falling through infinite space. Vince's first. He'd been Vince's first. He hadn't even known or considered it and Vince had trusted him so completely and... Howard felt like his heart was trying to crawl up out of his mouth and Vince was looking at him apprehensively. He bundled the smaller man into a tight hug until Vince squealed that Howard had rubbed jizz on him and they would be permanently fused together. Howard laughed and Vince wriggled away, skipping to the bathroom absurdly and returning with a wet flannel. He cleaned up Howard with the same delicate tenderness he had used when preparing him and when he was done he pressed one last, love-filled kiss to Howard's lips before covering them both in their new purple blankets.

"Nighty-night, Howard," he whispered.

"Sweet dreams, little man," Howard replied.

They'd fallen asleep, tangled up together, and Howard had actually been grinning as he drifted off. But now...

"Please, Vince?" he whispered into his lover's hair, his voice cracking. "Please tell me what's wrong?"