Another fic that came to me in the early hours of the morning. Mild Slash. Everything Boosh owned by Noel and Julian. Title taken from a Jimmy Eat World song, seemed kinda apt.
Howard Moon, Jazz maverick, poet, cyclist, writer, fisherman, man-god, zookeeper and Man of Action lay snuggled into his thick sleeping bag, fast asleep.
Vice Noir, King of the Mods, lay in his own, Gary Numan sleeping bag, freezing his balls off.
He looked across at his tentmate. 'Howard?'
'Howard? Howard? HowardHowardHowardHowardHoward? Howard?'
Howard stirred but didn't wake. Vince tried again, louder. 'Howard?'
'What?' came the sleepy reply.
'I told you to bring a better sleeping bag.'
'I wish I had done now, look at me. My hair's turned to icicles.'
Howard was showing signs of dozing off again.
'Can I have your sleeping bag?'
'No, go to sleep.'
'I can't' he whinged. 'Can't we share or something?'
'If we zip 'em together, we could have one big sleeping bag.' Howard looked at him weirdly. 'Wha- no, nothing like that, I'm cold. Please Howard?' He asked, making puppy-dog eyes at him. A look Howard always found hard to say 'no' to.
He sighed. 'Alright then. Hurry up.'
'Aw, thank you Howard'
They quickly unzipped their own sleeping bags and clumsily zipped the two together, Vince's thin one on the bottom and Howard's thick one on the top.
There wasn't much room inside, and Howard could feel Vince shivering next to him from his exposure to the cold air.
'You still cold?' he asked.
'Here.' He said, moving closer and rubbing Vince's arms with his hands to generate heat. Vince moved closer still, rolling on his side so Howard could reach behind him and rub his back.
They were now impossibly close, and as Vince looked up to thank Howard, their lips brushed together. They both pulled apart slightly, embarrassed. But Vince was still aware of Howard's strong, comforting arms around him, and Howard was even more aware of the small swelling that has developed in his pants.
Vince looked up at Howard once more, then his eyes fluttered closed, his head upturned. Howard paused for a second – was he reading Vince wrong, or-?
He decided to risk it, and pressed his lips lightly against Vince's. Vince kissed him back immediately, then parted Howard's lips with his own, and flicked his tongue inside his mouth. Howard used his own to explore Vince's mouth, their tongues pushing and sliding over each other as their breathing grew heavier.
Vince was no longer cold – quite the opposite, in fact.
They parted at last, each rather breathless. Howard flopped onto his back, and Vince lay his head on Howard's chest. He gave a contented little sigh, and fell straight to sleep, leaving Howard to be the one awake, one arm still snaked round Vince's waist, the other stroking his hair.