Howard Moon's Guide to Being Classy (3/?)
Title: Howard Moon's Guide to Being Classy
Author: savanna_says_hi
Pairing: Howard/Vince
Rating: PG with swears for added flavor
Disclaimer: I don't own the Boosh and only in my greatest dreams could I ever make money off this.
A/N: My computer is 11 years old and is consequently very lazy, so I apologize in advance for any formatting or tag errors because I have to do the majority of the work myself, and my brain is not the best at remembering things. XD
After Vince’s many declarations of hating the color brown in all its lovely shades, Howard had been expecting his stuff from home to be much more flamboyant than Howard’s modest furnishings. What he didn’t expect was what seemed to be one of Vince’s most treasured possessions: a toaster.
“Not just a toaster!” Vince exclaims excitedly. “A toaster that burns a smiley face onto your bread! Genius, yeah?”
Howard stares. The toaster is pink. “That’s…nice, yes.”
When Vince serves him toast, which he says is the only thing he can successfully cook, Howard has to hide the toast in his pockets instead of eating it because the smiley face staring into his mouth when he goes to take a bite is highly discomforting.
The other prized possessions of Vince’s are about a million and a half copies of a magazine called Cheekbone, which Howard has never heard of and has no desire to read. Vince places them one by one into the tiny bookcase, leaving room for only one of Howard’s books. Vince explains that, although the fashions go out of date within the week, you never know when something is going to come back strong.
“So you can’t get rid of any of them?” Howard asks, staring incredulously at the bookcase filled with magazines.
“Nope,” Vince says. “Gotta be prepared, you know?”
Howard doesn’t know. He also doesn’t know what to do with his seven other books that have been ejected from the bookcase.
The things we do for the ones we love. Wait, is it too soon to be thinking about that? Am I coming across as paranoid or desperate? Or both? No, this is only in my head. He can’t hear me thinking. Can he? No. No, he can’t. …Yeah, definitely both.
-
It’s been two weeks, and though Vince has always been pleasant and for the most part polite, Howard is beginning to worry that Vince secretly hates him, which would drastically alter the whole soulmates thing.
Bob Fossil, who Howard is eternally grateful for and also hates with the passion of a mortally wronged weasel (lots of passion in those creatures) approaches the aquarium, where Howard and Vince are cleaning tanks.
“I’m telling you,” Vince is saying, “he’s terrifying! Eyes like black fists, looking right into your soul-”
“Good morning, losers!” Fossil calls. Howard and Vince turn simultaneously. “I have a special assignment for you,” he continues. “Straight from Bainbridge!” he adds in an excited whisper.
Although Dixon Bainbridge can, on occasion, be even more horrible than Fossil himself, Howard is pleased that their work is finally getting noticed by their higher-up boss. “What is it, then?” Howard asks, a note of excitement in his voice.
Fossil leans in closer to them. Vince discreetly backs away. “It’s…” he says in a whisper. “The very special task of…”
“…Yes?” Howard asks after a few seconds of strained silence.
“THE FRICKIN’ LION ESCAPED! GO GET HIM BEFORE HE RAVAGES THE WHOLE ZOO!” Fossil screams. Spit flies everywhere. Vince gives up being discreet and brushes it off his uniform, a look of complete disgust on his face.
“Are you serious?!” Howard cries, but Fossil has run away like a little girl, screaming and heading for the relative safety of his office.
A roar comes from the direction of the reptile house.
“Shit!” Howard says, then mentally berates himself. This is no time for foul language. This is the time to prove to Vince that he, Howard, is a true Man of Action.
He squares his shoulders against the horror and addresses Vince. “C’mon, little man. Into the fray.”
“This is well nasty! I’ve come to accept this uniform as a semi-valuable piece of fashion, and then Fossil comes along and destroys it. All I can say is I hope this comes out in the wash.”
Howard pauses to consider the ill-timed nature of Vince’s statement, then grabs his arm and tugs. “Let’s recapture this lion.”
-
Recapturing the lion turns out to be much more terrifying than Howard had expected. After a chase through the hoofed mammals area, into the aviary, and out through the aquarium, the lion has returned to the reptile house and cornered Vince and Howard. Well, to be completely fair, Howard is much more cornered because he’s currently huddled against the wall hiding behind Vince.
Vince stares the lion in the eyes. Howard leans a bit to the right to watch the action from around the side of Vince’s leg. “Don’t look at him like that! He’s ready to strike! Oh God, I don’t want to die!” The lion is curled in an almost-spring, a position suited for stalking prey.
Vince is silent.
“Vince!” Howard cries. “Stop it! He’s going to lunge! Oh dear God, don’t kill me! I have so much to give!”
The lion looks at Howard, then back at Vince. Suddenly, he relaxes and sits down on his haunches. Vince sighs in relief.
Howard stands up slowly, clutching to the side of Vince’s jacket. “What happened?”
The lion stands up and calmly leaves the reptile house.
“He’s leaving!” Howard shrieks. “Not again!”
“Shh,” Vince says, “he’s going back to the lion exhibit. He promised, in exchange for some fresh antelope tomorrow. Don’t know where I’m gonna get that, though…antelope exhibit, I guess.”
“…What are you on about?” Howard says after a moment. He unlatches himself from Vince’s side to look him in the eyes.
“Well…” Vince rubs the back of his head, thinks better of it, and idly sets about to fixing his hair. “…I can talk to animals,” he says finally.
Howard stares blankly at him. “You what?”
“It’s a gift, I guess. I grew up in the jungle, see, and there were all these fantastic animals there and I didn’t even realize it was strange to be able to talk to them until I left, and no one was talking to their dogs and stuff like that.” Vince looks down, like he’s been forced to reveal a shameful secret.
Howard would like to question this, but it seems like another story for another time. Or many stories for a large number of times. “Well,” he says after a few awkward seconds. “That’s quite a gift. Very helpful at a zoo.” He pauses. “You may or may not have saved my life. I’m fairly certain you did.” There’s no reason to be blushing; why is he blushing?
Vince looks up and smiles at him. “Yeah, I guess so. I know how you can pay me back, though.”
Howard swallows. This sounds bad. This sounds good in a bad way. “Yeah?”
“You can at least try to eat my toast. You know the faces aren’t actual humans, yeah?”
Howard doesn’t know whether to be mortified or relieved. He settles on a mix of both and says, “So you noticed.”
“Of course I did,” Vince laughs. “I’m not completely daft. At least not completely.”
Howard smiles. “I know.”
Vince says, “The lion told me something interesting.”
“Really?” Howard asks.
“He said that you looked tastier. Whatever he meant by that. I’m sure he meant fat-wise, not fashion-wise. I obviously have a very tasty style.”
“What do you mean ‘fat-wise,’ sir?” Howard asks, indignant. “I’m perfectly lean. I’m trim. Have you seen my legs lately? They’re like willows. Trim, lean, strong willows. Yes, sir.”
Vince laughs, and even Howard knows when his sense of self-pride has gotten out of hand, so he laughs too. And then Vince’s face is on his shoulder, Vince’s hair tickling his ear.
Howard freezes. What does this mean? Should he do something? Like what? Vince smells like strawberries. And sweat. The scents mingle oddly well together.
“We’re alive,” Vince says into the collar of Howard’s jacket.
Howard unfreezes, quickly searches for something to say, and comes up with, “Indeed, we are.” Really? That the best you could do?
Vince laughs. The vibration feels funny against Howard’s collarbone. He lifts his head to look Howard in the eyes. “Do you get into this kind of trouble often?”
Howard thinks. Nothing like this incident has ever happened to him before, barring the time with the shark, and that was entirely Fossil’s fault. Vince is changing his life in a number of ways, not all of them for the better. “Nope. Just with you.”
“Good,” Vince says. “Let’s keep it that way.” He smiles, idly playing with the cuff on one of Howard’s sleeves. “I think we should probably go check on the lion, make sure he got back okay.”
“Right,” Howard says.
“Also, you’re going to have to help me find an antelope,” Vince says seriously.
Life and love, Howard reminds himself as they walk to the lion exhibit, are all about compromises.
Author: savanna_says_hi
Pairing: Howard/Vince
Rating: PG with swears for added flavor
Disclaimer: I don't own the Boosh and only in my greatest dreams could I ever make money off this.
A/N: My computer is 11 years old and is consequently very lazy, so I apologize in advance for any formatting or tag errors because I have to do the majority of the work myself, and my brain is not the best at remembering things. XD
After Vince’s many declarations of hating the color brown in all its lovely shades, Howard had been expecting his stuff from home to be much more flamboyant than Howard’s modest furnishings. What he didn’t expect was what seemed to be one of Vince’s most treasured possessions: a toaster.
“Not just a toaster!” Vince exclaims excitedly. “A toaster that burns a smiley face onto your bread! Genius, yeah?”
Howard stares. The toaster is pink. “That’s…nice, yes.”
When Vince serves him toast, which he says is the only thing he can successfully cook, Howard has to hide the toast in his pockets instead of eating it because the smiley face staring into his mouth when he goes to take a bite is highly discomforting.
The other prized possessions of Vince’s are about a million and a half copies of a magazine called Cheekbone, which Howard has never heard of and has no desire to read. Vince places them one by one into the tiny bookcase, leaving room for only one of Howard’s books. Vince explains that, although the fashions go out of date within the week, you never know when something is going to come back strong.
“So you can’t get rid of any of them?” Howard asks, staring incredulously at the bookcase filled with magazines.
“Nope,” Vince says. “Gotta be prepared, you know?”
Howard doesn’t know. He also doesn’t know what to do with his seven other books that have been ejected from the bookcase.
The things we do for the ones we love. Wait, is it too soon to be thinking about that? Am I coming across as paranoid or desperate? Or both? No, this is only in my head. He can’t hear me thinking. Can he? No. No, he can’t. …Yeah, definitely both.
-
It’s been two weeks, and though Vince has always been pleasant and for the most part polite, Howard is beginning to worry that Vince secretly hates him, which would drastically alter the whole soulmates thing.
Bob Fossil, who Howard is eternally grateful for and also hates with the passion of a mortally wronged weasel (lots of passion in those creatures) approaches the aquarium, where Howard and Vince are cleaning tanks.
“I’m telling you,” Vince is saying, “he’s terrifying! Eyes like black fists, looking right into your soul-”
“Good morning, losers!” Fossil calls. Howard and Vince turn simultaneously. “I have a special assignment for you,” he continues. “Straight from Bainbridge!” he adds in an excited whisper.
Although Dixon Bainbridge can, on occasion, be even more horrible than Fossil himself, Howard is pleased that their work is finally getting noticed by their higher-up boss. “What is it, then?” Howard asks, a note of excitement in his voice.
Fossil leans in closer to them. Vince discreetly backs away. “It’s…” he says in a whisper. “The very special task of…”
“…Yes?” Howard asks after a few seconds of strained silence.
“THE FRICKIN’ LION ESCAPED! GO GET HIM BEFORE HE RAVAGES THE WHOLE ZOO!” Fossil screams. Spit flies everywhere. Vince gives up being discreet and brushes it off his uniform, a look of complete disgust on his face.
“Are you serious?!” Howard cries, but Fossil has run away like a little girl, screaming and heading for the relative safety of his office.
A roar comes from the direction of the reptile house.
“Shit!” Howard says, then mentally berates himself. This is no time for foul language. This is the time to prove to Vince that he, Howard, is a true Man of Action.
He squares his shoulders against the horror and addresses Vince. “C’mon, little man. Into the fray.”
“This is well nasty! I’ve come to accept this uniform as a semi-valuable piece of fashion, and then Fossil comes along and destroys it. All I can say is I hope this comes out in the wash.”
Howard pauses to consider the ill-timed nature of Vince’s statement, then grabs his arm and tugs. “Let’s recapture this lion.”
-
Recapturing the lion turns out to be much more terrifying than Howard had expected. After a chase through the hoofed mammals area, into the aviary, and out through the aquarium, the lion has returned to the reptile house and cornered Vince and Howard. Well, to be completely fair, Howard is much more cornered because he’s currently huddled against the wall hiding behind Vince.
Vince stares the lion in the eyes. Howard leans a bit to the right to watch the action from around the side of Vince’s leg. “Don’t look at him like that! He’s ready to strike! Oh God, I don’t want to die!” The lion is curled in an almost-spring, a position suited for stalking prey.
Vince is silent.
“Vince!” Howard cries. “Stop it! He’s going to lunge! Oh dear God, don’t kill me! I have so much to give!”
The lion looks at Howard, then back at Vince. Suddenly, he relaxes and sits down on his haunches. Vince sighs in relief.
Howard stands up slowly, clutching to the side of Vince’s jacket. “What happened?”
The lion stands up and calmly leaves the reptile house.
“He’s leaving!” Howard shrieks. “Not again!”
“Shh,” Vince says, “he’s going back to the lion exhibit. He promised, in exchange for some fresh antelope tomorrow. Don’t know where I’m gonna get that, though…antelope exhibit, I guess.”
“…What are you on about?” Howard says after a moment. He unlatches himself from Vince’s side to look him in the eyes.
“Well…” Vince rubs the back of his head, thinks better of it, and idly sets about to fixing his hair. “…I can talk to animals,” he says finally.
Howard stares blankly at him. “You what?”
“It’s a gift, I guess. I grew up in the jungle, see, and there were all these fantastic animals there and I didn’t even realize it was strange to be able to talk to them until I left, and no one was talking to their dogs and stuff like that.” Vince looks down, like he’s been forced to reveal a shameful secret.
Howard would like to question this, but it seems like another story for another time. Or many stories for a large number of times. “Well,” he says after a few awkward seconds. “That’s quite a gift. Very helpful at a zoo.” He pauses. “You may or may not have saved my life. I’m fairly certain you did.” There’s no reason to be blushing; why is he blushing?
Vince looks up and smiles at him. “Yeah, I guess so. I know how you can pay me back, though.”
Howard swallows. This sounds bad. This sounds good in a bad way. “Yeah?”
“You can at least try to eat my toast. You know the faces aren’t actual humans, yeah?”
Howard doesn’t know whether to be mortified or relieved. He settles on a mix of both and says, “So you noticed.”
“Of course I did,” Vince laughs. “I’m not completely daft. At least not completely.”
Howard smiles. “I know.”
Vince says, “The lion told me something interesting.”
“Really?” Howard asks.
“He said that you looked tastier. Whatever he meant by that. I’m sure he meant fat-wise, not fashion-wise. I obviously have a very tasty style.”
“What do you mean ‘fat-wise,’ sir?” Howard asks, indignant. “I’m perfectly lean. I’m trim. Have you seen my legs lately? They’re like willows. Trim, lean, strong willows. Yes, sir.”
Vince laughs, and even Howard knows when his sense of self-pride has gotten out of hand, so he laughs too. And then Vince’s face is on his shoulder, Vince’s hair tickling his ear.
Howard freezes. What does this mean? Should he do something? Like what? Vince smells like strawberries. And sweat. The scents mingle oddly well together.
“We’re alive,” Vince says into the collar of Howard’s jacket.
Howard unfreezes, quickly searches for something to say, and comes up with, “Indeed, we are.” Really? That the best you could do?
Vince laughs. The vibration feels funny against Howard’s collarbone. He lifts his head to look Howard in the eyes. “Do you get into this kind of trouble often?”
Howard thinks. Nothing like this incident has ever happened to him before, barring the time with the shark, and that was entirely Fossil’s fault. Vince is changing his life in a number of ways, not all of them for the better. “Nope. Just with you.”
“Good,” Vince says. “Let’s keep it that way.” He smiles, idly playing with the cuff on one of Howard’s sleeves. “I think we should probably go check on the lion, make sure he got back okay.”
“Right,” Howard says.
“Also, you’re going to have to help me find an antelope,” Vince says seriously.
Life and love, Howard reminds himself as they walk to the lion exhibit, are all about compromises.