Enigma Variations, 17: All My Bridges Have Been Burned
Title: Enigma Variations, 17/?:
Summary: it’s the morning after the night before, and things are slightly… uncomfortable
Rating: R for subject matter, just to be on the safe side (this is the aftermath of an alien f***-or-die threeway, after all)
Warnings: bit of swearing, drug-taking, soppy fluffiness
Spoilers: my dialogue’s not the only wet thing in this chapter
Length: about 2600 words
Disclaimer: I don’t own these characters, I just borrow them to play with now and again (and again and again and again). For twisted love, not for profit
Notes: It was suggested in a comment by castie67 several chapters ago that there should be a bit of morning-after-ness, and who was I to argue with such a genius idea? (There is some afternoon-after-ness to come, and then we have the morning after the morning after, which I think will be the end of this part of the story. Then there will be angst and tentacles, so enjoy the fluff while you can…)
Enigma Variations
17 All My Bridges Have Been Burned
Howard half-wakes from a blissful, black-velvet sleep, and blinks in the early-morning sunshine…
No, it must be quite late-morning sunshine actually, in fact according to the timer on the DVD recorder it’s nearly-lunchtime sunshine… at any rate it’s way too bright, especially for someone with small eyes.
Hang on.
Why is there a television in the bedroom, and whose bright idea was it to swap his perfectly good bed for this hideously uncomfortable sofa?
He sniffs. Smells like an ashtray in here… what irresponsible person thought it would be a good idea to smoke in bed?
And who kicked him in the head - and somewhere much more personal, too - before he fell asleep?
Howard tries to lift his arm, to rub his eyes clear and maybe figure out the answers to some of these questions, but he can’t: it’s trapped under something.
Something warm and soft and with a faint perfume of exotic spices…
Naboo?
Ah, right, yes, of course. Howard blinks again, and the sofa and its other two occupants come into focus, Vince sprawled against the cushions in the other corner, head tilted back and hair enticingly rumpled, his skimpy kimono fallen open to the waist and equally enticingly rumpled; and Naboo curled up like a kitten, half-on, half-off Howard’s lap, his eyelids flickering and a faint smile on his lips.
It’s so good to feel Naboo’s strong heartbeat and steady breathing, and he’s warm… so warm, after last night when for a while it seemed he would never be warm again.
And Vince looks beautiful and peaceful. He’s not often such a tranquil sleeper; usually he’s all fidgety, or talking in his dreams.
Howard just stays where he is for a while, enjoying the view, while his brain gradually gets up to speed.
But his back’s aching fiercely, and his arm’s got pins-and-needles, and he really needs to go to the bathroom…
He sighs, and turfs Naboo off him as gently as he can; the little shaman snuggles into Vince’s side and throws an arm over him, and they slumber contentedly on as Howard gets carefully to his feet and limps down the passage.
The trip to the bathroom is not fun.
There are some things nobody needs to see, let alone feel, and a man’s bits in that state are quite high on that list…
He’s never had bruises there before.
Looks like the Man of Action may be out of action for a while.
Howard does what he can with cold water and a flannel, and finds some painkillers in the cupboard, but he’s still feeling somewhat fragile as he heads back towards the kitchen; and now there are voices coming from the living room, and one of them at least doesn’t sound entirely happy....
The door swings open and Naboo stalks out, as well as anyone can stalk in a dressing gown that’s a foot too long. He’s pushed past Howard and locked himself in the bathroom before Howard can think of anything to say that might help.
Vince is in the kitchen, making tea and looking worried.
“And you thought I was grumpy in the mornings.” Howard passes him the milk. “What was that all about?”
“Oh, he’s… morning-after, you know… bit embarrassed an’ that, an’ it prob’ly didn’t help that I called him ‘Howard’ an’ groped his arse while I was still mostly asleep. I think I freaked him out a bit. Wasn’t the best way for him to wake up.”
The bathroom door opens, and then they hear Naboo’s bedroom door slam.
Vince sighs heavily. “I’m sorry. I let you down.”
“What are you talking about? He’ll get over it. At least he’s still here to be pissed off with us, eh?”
Howard’s encouraging tone doesn’t seem to be encouraging Vince. “No thanks to me.”
“Very much thanks to you.” Howard puts a hand on the little man’s shoulder.
Vince shakes his head vehemently. “I was useless. I came too soon, an’ I nearly made you do the same, an’ I had a go at Saboo an’ nearly got us killed, an’ Naboo saved our sorry arses but afterwards I just sat there an’ watched him hurt himself…”
“Now look.” Howard pulls Vince into a tight hug. “You didn’t let anyone down. You… You were magnificent. I couldn’t have done it without you, d’you know how scared I was? But it was OK, because you were there. You took care of us both, Vince, and I really appreciate that. And I’m sure Naboo does too.”
A sniffle comes from somewhere near Howard’s left armpit, and a muffled voice says: “Maybe you’re right.”
“I quite frequently am.” Howard kisses the top of Vince’s head, and lets him go. “Listen, I’ll go and talk to him. He probably just needs more drugs, or something.”
“Take him a cuppa an’ that bottle of purple stuff.”
“Good thinking, little man.”
“Magnificent?” Vince turns back in the doorway; his eyes are shining. “You really thought that about me?”
“Course I did. You were. You are.”
“Cheers, Howard.” Vince goes down the passageway to the bathroom, walking as though he’s suddenly ten feet tall.
…
“Can I come in?” Howard shuts Naboo’s door behind him.
“You are in.”
“Oh, yeah… um… I brought you some tea.”
“Thanks.”
Howard takes a couple of careful steps into the room, moving slowly and in a non-threatening way, as he would have approached a nervous and potentially dangerous animal back at the Zooniverse - a wounded chameleon, perhaps, or a vole with a hangover. “Anything I can do?”
Naboo is sitting on the bed, head in hands. “Don’t think so actually, I just… I don’t know how to do this, knew it’d be weird when we woke up again.”
“C’m on, why’s it weird? It’s just us.” Howard takes a step closer. “No weirder than some of the other situations we’ve been in.”
“I s’pose not.” Naboo doesn’t sound convinced.
Howard puts the tea and the bottle down on the bedside cabinet, and lowers himself cautiously onto the bed beside the little shaman.
There is an audible creak.
Naboo looks up. “I felt that.”
“Not as much as I did.” Howard grimaces. “I used some muscles last night that don’t get a lot of practice.”
Naboo takes the lid off the bottle and pours potion into his tea. The corner of his mouth twitches in an almost-smile. “Me too.” He takes a swig from the mug, and looks over the rim at Howard. “P’raps I can help?”
“Only if you… I mean… I don’t want to make it weirder for you. If you’d rather just maintain, well, a strictly working relationship… where you tell me to do the stocktaking, call me a ballbag on a regular basis, nag me for the rent… that’s fine. I promise I won’t embarrass you. Vince might, but Howard Moon is a professional, sir.”
“We can’t go back to how we were.”
“No. But we can, you know, not talk about stuff that makes you uncomfortable.”
“Cheers.” Naboo swirls the dregs around the bottom of his mug. “Now… your left shoulder’s hurtin’, yeah?”
Howard is impressed. “You can tell that just by looking at me?”
Naboo snorts. “Nah. ’S written in the tealeaves, innit.”
He shuffles onto the bed and kneels behind Howard so that he can reach up and massage Howard’s aching back and shoulders, repeating a series of strange, quiet words that somehow break the tight knots of pain into smaller and smaller fragments until they blow away like dust.
“Thanks. That’s a lot better.” Howard wriggles his shoulders experimentally; stretches his spine.
He catches his breath.
Naboo sits down beside him again; slides an arm around his waist. “You still hurt.”
“Yeah, but… that wasn’t my back.” Howard freezes in embarrassment.
“Oh.” Naboo glances downwards. “ ’M sorry, should’ve thought. You in trouble down there?”
“A bit.”
“I know which bit.” Naboo’s expression is sympathetic. “You gonna let me help with that too?”
“Well, if you could, I’d be grateful… I’d feel a bit of a tit, going to the doctor’s and trying to explain.”
“They wouldn’t be able to do much for you anyway.” Naboo undoes the belt of Howard’s dressing gown; his hand is cool against Howard’s bruised and tender skin. “Oh, that looks… I was a bit rough there, wasn’t I?”
Howard looks away, his cheeks flaming. “Well, it was a matter of life and death. A bit of collateral damage is only to be expected… Ow!”
“ ’Fraid you’re gonna be sore for a while. Listen, Howard, I’ll do what I can, but these count as magical injuries and there’s only so much the words of power can counteract. You might need to find some, um, other ways to keep Vince happy for a week or two. I can give you the address of a shop that sells really amazing sex toys…”
“I’m sure we’ll manage, thanks.”
Naboo murmurs more of the strange words, and the throbbing discomfort fades. “I’ve got some stuff you can put on there, too, swansdown an’ spider silk, but it’s a powerful anaesthetic agent so you have to be careful not to put too much or it’ll drop off, an’ I don’t mean just goin’ numb.”
“It’s… good of you to go to so much trouble.”
“Howard, you ballbag, you saved my life by shaggin’ me, an’ I’ve just been castin’ a spell on your weddin’ tackle… for fucksake stop bein’ so polite.”
Naboo is smiling, and Howard can’t help but smile back, and they reach for each other without really thinking about it.
“Hey, Howard, I’m running the bath…” Vince peers round the door, and grins. “Thought you’d gone a bit quiet in there. Looks like Naboo will be joining us, then.”
Naboo unfastens his mouth from Howard’s. “Only if you promise not to call me ‘Howard’ again.”
Vince’s grin grows wider and wickeder. “Does that mean I’m still allowed to grope your arse?”
“Depends how cold your hands are. An’ whether you’ll let me bring a bong into the bathroom. I need to get high.”
…
Vince takes first turn in the steaming hot bath, while Naboo sits cross-legged on the bathmat, puffing placidly on his beloved hash pipe.
The thick, drugged smoke mingles with the scents of strawberry and vanilla as Vince gives himself a thorough hairwash. “Blimey, I need this… Howard, can you pass me that blueberry de-tangler? Got some right sticky bits in ’ere, an’ I don’t want to know what they’re stuck with.”
“Or whose,” Naboo adds.
Vince flicks a wet flannel at him. “Shut up an’ keep smokin’, you got some serious catching-up to do to get your drug levels back to normal.”
“Oh yeah.” Naboo gives the pipe his full attention again.
Vince looks up to where Howard is perched on the edge of the tub. “Hey, Howard - you wanna join me? Could do with some help washin’ my back.”
He scoots forward until his bent knees are up against the taps; Howard clambers awkwardly in behind him.
It’s gloriously hot, just what Howard’s aching muscles need. And Vince’s wet skin sliding against his own is a lovely feeling, although Howard’s not in the ideal state to appreciate it as fully as he usually does. Naboo’s numbing potion has done its work well.
Howard takes his time over the washing, and finds that he can savour the experience as an end in itself rather than as a lead-up to sex. It’s just good to be with Vince, and to be warm and relaxed and not worried about anything. Seasoned Man of Action though Howard Moon may be, all that life-or-death stuff was rather hard work.
And it’s good to have Naboo there too, content in their company, smiling happily through a haze of weed fumes. This morning could so easily have been very different. They could have been contacting Dennis to arrange a funeral…
Howard shivers.
Vince looks round. “You gettin’ cold?”
“No, I was just… thinking.”
“Think about something else, then. That thought’s rubbish. I can tell just by lookin’ at you.”
So Howard thinks about something else: about leaning forward and kissing Vince’s beautiful wet mouth.
“Well?” Vince is smiling at him. “Don’t just think about it. Doin’ it’ll be much better.”
He’s right, of course. It is better. Much better.
Howard reaches for Vince’s hand and clasps it tight.
Vince lets out an anguished squawk.
Howard tenses all over. “What?”
“I’m wrinklin’ up, Howard, I gotta get out of here!”
“Don’t frighten me like that.” Howard slaps him on the arse as he scrambles out.
He can’t help looking admiringly at Vince’s wet nakedness, purely from an aesthetic point of view…
Vince sees him looking and stage-whispers: “Later.”
“None of that for a while, I’m afraid.” Howard blushes, and looks down at himself. “I’m gonna need a bit of recovery time.”
“Me too,” Vince admits, wrapping himself in a fluffy bathrobe.
“I got some magic stuff for that,” Naboo says. “You might need to get Howard to put it on for you though, I’m seein’ double right now, wouldn’t want to numb the wrong bits…” He giggles.
“Are you high?” Vince looks down at the small figure on the bathmat.
“Yeah.”
“Right.” Vince takes the pipe from Naboo’s hand, and hauls him to his feet. “You can stop smokin’ for a few minutes, then, an’ have a bath.”
Naboo staggers, and leans against Vince’s chest. “Fraid you’ll have to help me in. Legs have gone.”
Vince rolls his eyes, picks the shaman up bodily and lowers him into the bath, in front of Howard.
“ ’S’not hot enough,” Naboo complains. “Nothin’ on this rubbish planet’s ever hot enough.”
“I dunno, aliens eh, never satisfied…” Vince adds more hot water, and a splash of something violently pink that makes mountains of creamy bubbles. “There. An’ if you’re still cold, you’ll just have to snuggle up to Howard.”
“I already was.” Naboo leans back, his sleek head pillowed on Howard’s shoulder, his wet body sliding against Howard’s stomach. Howard puts a hand on Naboo’s chest, to feel his heart beating; the skin flushes at his touch.
“It remembers you,” Naboo says.
“Me too?” Vince leans over and strokes him, and smiles. “Yeah, look.” Then his face falls. “But you’re hurt still.”
“Doesn’t matter, it’ll fade soon. I can help it along a bit.” Naboo murmurs something, and the blackening bruises on his ribs and thighs fade to dull lilac as they watch. “What about my back?”
Howard lifts him forward, and looks. “It’s almost gone, can hardly see it. It was a very clean cut… Is your hand OK?”
He takes Naboo’s hand and looks at the line across the palm; the edges already knitted. Then he runs his fingers down to Naboo’s wrist, caressing the soft white skin with its whiter scars. “These… you didn’t…”
“No, I didn’t. That was a long time ago. Something magical that went a bit wrong, an’ that’s all you need to know.”
“The wire?” Vince asks.
Naboo sighs heavily, and squeezes his eyes shut.
“At least he knows now.” Vince’s voice is gentle. “You just have to wait for it to sink in.”
“It’s up to him now - I did what I could…” Naboo holds Howard’s hand tight, like a lifeline.
“It was the right thing to do,” Howard says.
“I hope so.”
“We know so.” Vince picks up a flannel and wrings it out. “Now, let’s get you un-stickied down here and then we can sort your hair out. I’ve got some coconut conditioner that’s just the perfect product for you…”
Summary: it’s the morning after the night before, and things are slightly… uncomfortable
Rating: R for subject matter, just to be on the safe side (this is the aftermath of an alien f***-or-die threeway, after all)
Warnings: bit of swearing, drug-taking, soppy fluffiness
Spoilers: my dialogue’s not the only wet thing in this chapter
Length: about 2600 words
Disclaimer: I don’t own these characters, I just borrow them to play with now and again (and again and again and again). For twisted love, not for profit
Notes: It was suggested in a comment by castie67 several chapters ago that there should be a bit of morning-after-ness, and who was I to argue with such a genius idea? (There is some afternoon-after-ness to come, and then we have the morning after the morning after, which I think will be the end of this part of the story. Then there will be angst and tentacles, so enjoy the fluff while you can…)
Enigma Variations
17 All My Bridges Have Been Burned
Howard half-wakes from a blissful, black-velvet sleep, and blinks in the early-morning sunshine…
No, it must be quite late-morning sunshine actually, in fact according to the timer on the DVD recorder it’s nearly-lunchtime sunshine… at any rate it’s way too bright, especially for someone with small eyes.
Hang on.
Why is there a television in the bedroom, and whose bright idea was it to swap his perfectly good bed for this hideously uncomfortable sofa?
He sniffs. Smells like an ashtray in here… what irresponsible person thought it would be a good idea to smoke in bed?
And who kicked him in the head - and somewhere much more personal, too - before he fell asleep?
Howard tries to lift his arm, to rub his eyes clear and maybe figure out the answers to some of these questions, but he can’t: it’s trapped under something.
Something warm and soft and with a faint perfume of exotic spices…
Naboo?
Ah, right, yes, of course. Howard blinks again, and the sofa and its other two occupants come into focus, Vince sprawled against the cushions in the other corner, head tilted back and hair enticingly rumpled, his skimpy kimono fallen open to the waist and equally enticingly rumpled; and Naboo curled up like a kitten, half-on, half-off Howard’s lap, his eyelids flickering and a faint smile on his lips.
It’s so good to feel Naboo’s strong heartbeat and steady breathing, and he’s warm… so warm, after last night when for a while it seemed he would never be warm again.
And Vince looks beautiful and peaceful. He’s not often such a tranquil sleeper; usually he’s all fidgety, or talking in his dreams.
Howard just stays where he is for a while, enjoying the view, while his brain gradually gets up to speed.
But his back’s aching fiercely, and his arm’s got pins-and-needles, and he really needs to go to the bathroom…
He sighs, and turfs Naboo off him as gently as he can; the little shaman snuggles into Vince’s side and throws an arm over him, and they slumber contentedly on as Howard gets carefully to his feet and limps down the passage.
The trip to the bathroom is not fun.
There are some things nobody needs to see, let alone feel, and a man’s bits in that state are quite high on that list…
He’s never had bruises there before.
Looks like the Man of Action may be out of action for a while.
Howard does what he can with cold water and a flannel, and finds some painkillers in the cupboard, but he’s still feeling somewhat fragile as he heads back towards the kitchen; and now there are voices coming from the living room, and one of them at least doesn’t sound entirely happy....
The door swings open and Naboo stalks out, as well as anyone can stalk in a dressing gown that’s a foot too long. He’s pushed past Howard and locked himself in the bathroom before Howard can think of anything to say that might help.
Vince is in the kitchen, making tea and looking worried.
“And you thought I was grumpy in the mornings.” Howard passes him the milk. “What was that all about?”
“Oh, he’s… morning-after, you know… bit embarrassed an’ that, an’ it prob’ly didn’t help that I called him ‘Howard’ an’ groped his arse while I was still mostly asleep. I think I freaked him out a bit. Wasn’t the best way for him to wake up.”
The bathroom door opens, and then they hear Naboo’s bedroom door slam.
Vince sighs heavily. “I’m sorry. I let you down.”
“What are you talking about? He’ll get over it. At least he’s still here to be pissed off with us, eh?”
Howard’s encouraging tone doesn’t seem to be encouraging Vince. “No thanks to me.”
“Very much thanks to you.” Howard puts a hand on the little man’s shoulder.
Vince shakes his head vehemently. “I was useless. I came too soon, an’ I nearly made you do the same, an’ I had a go at Saboo an’ nearly got us killed, an’ Naboo saved our sorry arses but afterwards I just sat there an’ watched him hurt himself…”
“Now look.” Howard pulls Vince into a tight hug. “You didn’t let anyone down. You… You were magnificent. I couldn’t have done it without you, d’you know how scared I was? But it was OK, because you were there. You took care of us both, Vince, and I really appreciate that. And I’m sure Naboo does too.”
A sniffle comes from somewhere near Howard’s left armpit, and a muffled voice says: “Maybe you’re right.”
“I quite frequently am.” Howard kisses the top of Vince’s head, and lets him go. “Listen, I’ll go and talk to him. He probably just needs more drugs, or something.”
“Take him a cuppa an’ that bottle of purple stuff.”
“Good thinking, little man.”
“Magnificent?” Vince turns back in the doorway; his eyes are shining. “You really thought that about me?”
“Course I did. You were. You are.”
“Cheers, Howard.” Vince goes down the passageway to the bathroom, walking as though he’s suddenly ten feet tall.
…
“Can I come in?” Howard shuts Naboo’s door behind him.
“You are in.”
“Oh, yeah… um… I brought you some tea.”
“Thanks.”
Howard takes a couple of careful steps into the room, moving slowly and in a non-threatening way, as he would have approached a nervous and potentially dangerous animal back at the Zooniverse - a wounded chameleon, perhaps, or a vole with a hangover. “Anything I can do?”
Naboo is sitting on the bed, head in hands. “Don’t think so actually, I just… I don’t know how to do this, knew it’d be weird when we woke up again.”
“C’m on, why’s it weird? It’s just us.” Howard takes a step closer. “No weirder than some of the other situations we’ve been in.”
“I s’pose not.” Naboo doesn’t sound convinced.
Howard puts the tea and the bottle down on the bedside cabinet, and lowers himself cautiously onto the bed beside the little shaman.
There is an audible creak.
Naboo looks up. “I felt that.”
“Not as much as I did.” Howard grimaces. “I used some muscles last night that don’t get a lot of practice.”
Naboo takes the lid off the bottle and pours potion into his tea. The corner of his mouth twitches in an almost-smile. “Me too.” He takes a swig from the mug, and looks over the rim at Howard. “P’raps I can help?”
“Only if you… I mean… I don’t want to make it weirder for you. If you’d rather just maintain, well, a strictly working relationship… where you tell me to do the stocktaking, call me a ballbag on a regular basis, nag me for the rent… that’s fine. I promise I won’t embarrass you. Vince might, but Howard Moon is a professional, sir.”
“We can’t go back to how we were.”
“No. But we can, you know, not talk about stuff that makes you uncomfortable.”
“Cheers.” Naboo swirls the dregs around the bottom of his mug. “Now… your left shoulder’s hurtin’, yeah?”
Howard is impressed. “You can tell that just by looking at me?”
Naboo snorts. “Nah. ’S written in the tealeaves, innit.”
He shuffles onto the bed and kneels behind Howard so that he can reach up and massage Howard’s aching back and shoulders, repeating a series of strange, quiet words that somehow break the tight knots of pain into smaller and smaller fragments until they blow away like dust.
“Thanks. That’s a lot better.” Howard wriggles his shoulders experimentally; stretches his spine.
He catches his breath.
Naboo sits down beside him again; slides an arm around his waist. “You still hurt.”
“Yeah, but… that wasn’t my back.” Howard freezes in embarrassment.
“Oh.” Naboo glances downwards. “ ’M sorry, should’ve thought. You in trouble down there?”
“A bit.”
“I know which bit.” Naboo’s expression is sympathetic. “You gonna let me help with that too?”
“Well, if you could, I’d be grateful… I’d feel a bit of a tit, going to the doctor’s and trying to explain.”
“They wouldn’t be able to do much for you anyway.” Naboo undoes the belt of Howard’s dressing gown; his hand is cool against Howard’s bruised and tender skin. “Oh, that looks… I was a bit rough there, wasn’t I?”
Howard looks away, his cheeks flaming. “Well, it was a matter of life and death. A bit of collateral damage is only to be expected… Ow!”
“ ’Fraid you’re gonna be sore for a while. Listen, Howard, I’ll do what I can, but these count as magical injuries and there’s only so much the words of power can counteract. You might need to find some, um, other ways to keep Vince happy for a week or two. I can give you the address of a shop that sells really amazing sex toys…”
“I’m sure we’ll manage, thanks.”
Naboo murmurs more of the strange words, and the throbbing discomfort fades. “I’ve got some stuff you can put on there, too, swansdown an’ spider silk, but it’s a powerful anaesthetic agent so you have to be careful not to put too much or it’ll drop off, an’ I don’t mean just goin’ numb.”
“It’s… good of you to go to so much trouble.”
“Howard, you ballbag, you saved my life by shaggin’ me, an’ I’ve just been castin’ a spell on your weddin’ tackle… for fucksake stop bein’ so polite.”
Naboo is smiling, and Howard can’t help but smile back, and they reach for each other without really thinking about it.
“Hey, Howard, I’m running the bath…” Vince peers round the door, and grins. “Thought you’d gone a bit quiet in there. Looks like Naboo will be joining us, then.”
Naboo unfastens his mouth from Howard’s. “Only if you promise not to call me ‘Howard’ again.”
Vince’s grin grows wider and wickeder. “Does that mean I’m still allowed to grope your arse?”
“Depends how cold your hands are. An’ whether you’ll let me bring a bong into the bathroom. I need to get high.”
…
Vince takes first turn in the steaming hot bath, while Naboo sits cross-legged on the bathmat, puffing placidly on his beloved hash pipe.
The thick, drugged smoke mingles with the scents of strawberry and vanilla as Vince gives himself a thorough hairwash. “Blimey, I need this… Howard, can you pass me that blueberry de-tangler? Got some right sticky bits in ’ere, an’ I don’t want to know what they’re stuck with.”
“Or whose,” Naboo adds.
Vince flicks a wet flannel at him. “Shut up an’ keep smokin’, you got some serious catching-up to do to get your drug levels back to normal.”
“Oh yeah.” Naboo gives the pipe his full attention again.
Vince looks up to where Howard is perched on the edge of the tub. “Hey, Howard - you wanna join me? Could do with some help washin’ my back.”
He scoots forward until his bent knees are up against the taps; Howard clambers awkwardly in behind him.
It’s gloriously hot, just what Howard’s aching muscles need. And Vince’s wet skin sliding against his own is a lovely feeling, although Howard’s not in the ideal state to appreciate it as fully as he usually does. Naboo’s numbing potion has done its work well.
Howard takes his time over the washing, and finds that he can savour the experience as an end in itself rather than as a lead-up to sex. It’s just good to be with Vince, and to be warm and relaxed and not worried about anything. Seasoned Man of Action though Howard Moon may be, all that life-or-death stuff was rather hard work.
And it’s good to have Naboo there too, content in their company, smiling happily through a haze of weed fumes. This morning could so easily have been very different. They could have been contacting Dennis to arrange a funeral…
Howard shivers.
Vince looks round. “You gettin’ cold?”
“No, I was just… thinking.”
“Think about something else, then. That thought’s rubbish. I can tell just by lookin’ at you.”
So Howard thinks about something else: about leaning forward and kissing Vince’s beautiful wet mouth.
“Well?” Vince is smiling at him. “Don’t just think about it. Doin’ it’ll be much better.”
He’s right, of course. It is better. Much better.
Howard reaches for Vince’s hand and clasps it tight.
Vince lets out an anguished squawk.
Howard tenses all over. “What?”
“I’m wrinklin’ up, Howard, I gotta get out of here!”
“Don’t frighten me like that.” Howard slaps him on the arse as he scrambles out.
He can’t help looking admiringly at Vince’s wet nakedness, purely from an aesthetic point of view…
Vince sees him looking and stage-whispers: “Later.”
“None of that for a while, I’m afraid.” Howard blushes, and looks down at himself. “I’m gonna need a bit of recovery time.”
“Me too,” Vince admits, wrapping himself in a fluffy bathrobe.
“I got some magic stuff for that,” Naboo says. “You might need to get Howard to put it on for you though, I’m seein’ double right now, wouldn’t want to numb the wrong bits…” He giggles.
“Are you high?” Vince looks down at the small figure on the bathmat.
“Yeah.”
“Right.” Vince takes the pipe from Naboo’s hand, and hauls him to his feet. “You can stop smokin’ for a few minutes, then, an’ have a bath.”
Naboo staggers, and leans against Vince’s chest. “Fraid you’ll have to help me in. Legs have gone.”
Vince rolls his eyes, picks the shaman up bodily and lowers him into the bath, in front of Howard.
“ ’S’not hot enough,” Naboo complains. “Nothin’ on this rubbish planet’s ever hot enough.”
“I dunno, aliens eh, never satisfied…” Vince adds more hot water, and a splash of something violently pink that makes mountains of creamy bubbles. “There. An’ if you’re still cold, you’ll just have to snuggle up to Howard.”
“I already was.” Naboo leans back, his sleek head pillowed on Howard’s shoulder, his wet body sliding against Howard’s stomach. Howard puts a hand on Naboo’s chest, to feel his heart beating; the skin flushes at his touch.
“It remembers you,” Naboo says.
“Me too?” Vince leans over and strokes him, and smiles. “Yeah, look.” Then his face falls. “But you’re hurt still.”
“Doesn’t matter, it’ll fade soon. I can help it along a bit.” Naboo murmurs something, and the blackening bruises on his ribs and thighs fade to dull lilac as they watch. “What about my back?”
Howard lifts him forward, and looks. “It’s almost gone, can hardly see it. It was a very clean cut… Is your hand OK?”
He takes Naboo’s hand and looks at the line across the palm; the edges already knitted. Then he runs his fingers down to Naboo’s wrist, caressing the soft white skin with its whiter scars. “These… you didn’t…”
“No, I didn’t. That was a long time ago. Something magical that went a bit wrong, an’ that’s all you need to know.”
“The wire?” Vince asks.
Naboo sighs heavily, and squeezes his eyes shut.
“At least he knows now.” Vince’s voice is gentle. “You just have to wait for it to sink in.”
“It’s up to him now - I did what I could…” Naboo holds Howard’s hand tight, like a lifeline.
“It was the right thing to do,” Howard says.
“I hope so.”
“We know so.” Vince picks up a flannel and wrings it out. “Now, let’s get you un-stickied down here and then we can sort your hair out. I’ve got some coconut conditioner that’s just the perfect product for you…”