The flat had been thoroughly dusted and straightened, and it wasn't even supper time. It was going to be a long night in for Howard. The Nabootique was closed because of the important Shaman holiday of "Hangover Tuesday" that was celebrated by Naboo after every bank holiday weekend. Naboo firmly believe Recovery Monday was for quitters. The tiny Shaman didn't have many strong convictions, so Howard was hesitant to point out the few he had were utter bollocks. Howard Moon was a rugged man of action, but he was also a sensitive man. He didn't trample on the dreams or beliefs of others, no matter how stupid and pointless.

Vince was out on the town, trying to be the Prince of Camden, whatever the hell that meant. He was going out more and more and staying out later and later. If Howard was the type to worry, he'd be concerned that Vince was taking too many risks and heading down a bad path. Beyond the mental atrophy that must accompany spending every night listening to twelve minute remixes of songs that were unbearable to begin with, there were the designer drugs and designer clothes meant only to destroy the mind and empty the wallet. The perpetually naive Vince Noir had no place among those empty-headed club kids. He should be spending his time with Howard, bettering and expanding his mind with thoughtful conversation and educational programming.

He'd tried to tell Vince as much when he was heading out the door, but the insolent brat had batted his lashes at Howard and said he wasn't interested in talking. It was those strangely suggestive comments that were tearing them apart. Every time Howard thought Vince had outgrown his capriciousness, he would turn again. There had been nearly a year at the zoo when Vince barely acknowledged him. Years of friendship and yet Vince treated him like a ghost, scorning every friendly overture. When Howard suggested Vince was out of line, he became furious and said very unpleasant things about Howard's haircut. When Vince finally got out of his snit, he suddenly reverted to the sweet boy he'd always been before. He followed Howard around for years, gazing up at him with hero worship and love. Then they were fired from the zoo. That night, Vince dyed his hair black and became a stranger again. So it went, off and on, with Howard never knowing who he would meet in the morning. Would it be sweet, loving Vince or his bratty, hostile doppelganger?

Howard was lost in his thoughts of Vince, when the man himself appeared. He was home early, his face and hair looking despondent.

"Hey, there! What's wrong, Little Man?" Howard asked, not quite touching Vince's shoulders. He just sort of waved his hands in their direction. Sometimes Vince liked to be touched, sometimes it made him angry.

Vince's blue eyes were watery, and he sniffed as soon as Howard started speaking. Vince was usually either happy or angry. There didn't seem to be a lot of other emotions banging around in Vince's heart. Vince was rarely sad, and even those occasional bouts of sadness were usually clothing related.

Vince buried his face in Howard's chest and sobbed. Howard stroked Vince's floppy hair. He couldn't do much damage to the sorry barnet. Vince didn't bother protesting, a sure sign he was in serious distress. Howard encouraged his Little Man to talk. Vince mumbled into Howard's chest, impossible to understand.

Howard's memories of his youth were fuzzy, but he vividly remembered the first time he saw Vince. Vince had been smiling like he was channeling sunshine as the wind whipped blond hair around his face. Growing up, Howard had sought Vince out more than the actual sun (which gave him freckles).

"Don't be so upset, nothing's that bad," Howard cooed, rocking Vince gently, "I'll make you a nice cup of tea."

Howard would never know if his friend wanted tea, because Vince chose that minute to kiss him. The kiss on the rooftop had thrown Howard for a loop. Although he knew Vince was trying to literally save his own neck, it had been easy to get swept up in that kiss.

He was getting swept up again. Howard had always been a little afraid of kissing. The physical intimacy, the saliva, the concerns about oral hygiene and nose placement...

But it was so easy with Vince. It felt natural, and not at all disgusting. Vince's mouth tasted of alcopops, but even that worked on Vince. Howard wrapped his hands around Vince's slim waist. The Confuser, indeed. His slim frame, makeup, high heels, the girlie drinks on his breath; it was all in conflict with the hint of stubble and the distinctly masculine bulge in his trousers. Vince liked to say he was man and woman together, but not quite as good as either of those two things. It wasn't true. Vince was something better.

Vince pulled back and looked Howard in the eye.

"All right, Howard?"

Howard nodded mutely and moved in for more kissing before something terrible happened to ruin the moment. His ears were perked for monsters, evil-doers and flat mates.

Vince guided them towards the sofa. It had been a perfectly nice, brown sofa at the charity shop, but Vince had worked his magic until it became an over-stuffed, two-toned monstrosity. Howard had to admit, it was an improvement. Although he still occasionally got vertigo while sitting on it, it was awfully comfy.

Every time Howard and Vince sat on the couch, they ended up pressed against one another. The couch seemed to demand intimacy.

Howard stumbled a bit and landed on top of Vince with a thud.

"Sorry about that, I think I sprained something at jazzercise..."

"No talking," Vince ordered, "Just kissing. Talking is where things go wrong."

The man had a point. Howard allowed himself to be pulled on top of Vince, who looked in danger of being swallowed whole by the couch. Howard was wondering if he should switch places with Vince when he felt bony hands squeezing his arse.

"I'm thinking of giving the G.I. diet a try," Howard explained, "I live a life of moderation but the Moon men..."

"I love your pumpkin arse, Howard. Don't you dare lose it."

There was no denying the sincerity in Vince's eyes, or in his eager fondling of Howard's rear. Howard worried about crushing Vince and tried to move to the side, but Vince was insistent.

"I want you on top of me, Howard," Vince whispered. "Just like... just like this."

Howard tried to relax and just enjoy the feel of Vince's mouth under his, the way he felt so small but strong in Howard's hands. He felt a stab of panic when Vince undid Howard's trousers, but the feel of Vince's hand on his erection was more than just erotic. It felt right. Instead of fumbling, Howard was able to undo Vince's trousers with ease. His hand seemed to know exactly what to do, even as his brain panicked. He wrapped his hand around Vince's hard cock and was rewarded with a whimper. Howard had always thought that was how it would be with the right person, that everything would be easy and natural, but there was also a part of him that thought such romantic ideas were hogwash. Nothing went smoothly for Howard Moon, and yet he had Vince panting and groaning with every touch. Howard felt a strange sensation; he felt sure of himself. A little wriggling and he and Vince's cocks were lined up so that Howard could work them together. Vince's fingers dug into Howard's shoulders as he bucked into Howard's touch.

"Howard, oh Howard. Love you so... Howard."

Howard squeezed just enough to keep himself from coming, but it sent Vince over the edge. Vince's eyes were shut tight, but there were tears on his cheeks.

"Everything okay, Little Man?" Howard asked, wondering if he should stop.

"Everything is genius," Vince whimpered, opening his eyes, "I just really needed this tonight."

Howard stroked Vince's dark hair, "Something you need to talk about?"

He was aware it was a strange thing to say while rubbing his hard cock on Vince's stomach, but he really didn't want to continue if Vince was in a bad place.

Vince smiled, "I really need to see you get off. That would make me so happy, just to see you come and look like... Just happy and relaxed."

Howard suddenly felt self-conscious, but Vince wrapped his hand over Howard's and encouraged him to begin stroking. Howard closed his eyes and tried not to think about Vince staring at him as he essentially jerked off on Vince's stomach.

"You look so good, Howard."

That was it for Howard. He let out a strangled groan and came on Vince's belly and rucked-up shirt.

"Sorry about the shirt," he whispered.

"S'all right. Not like I can wear the same thing twice, anyway," Vince shrugged as they disentangled themselves.

"Not when you're up for re-election. The Mayor of Camden has to be an example to the community."

"I'm a Prince," Vince corrected him, "The general public ain't got nothing to do with it. I was born to rule Camden!"

It felt good to be sitting on the couch, their legs pressed together and bantering. When Howard allowed himself fantasies about Vince, he often worried they would lose the spark between them if they acted on their chemistry. Vince was looking disheveled and pink-cheeked, but otherwise unchanged. Howard vowed he would not say something to make the moment awkward.

"What just happened here?" spoke his traitorous mouth before his brain could interfere. He hadn't even finished doing his trousers up and he was already making a mess of things.

Vince carefully avoided Howard's eyes, suddenly fascinated with the fabric of the couch.

"I dunno. Thought it would be nice... Was it nice? I mean..." Vince looked a bit lost and Howard had no idea how to comfort him, "It was nice, right? A good first time, on the couch and all?"

Howard felt a bit queasy, wondering if he'd just received a bit of pity fondling, "It was very nice, Vince. Thank you. Thanks for, well, all of that, really. You're a good mate."

Howard could feel Vince's eyes boring into the side of his face like lasers. He couldn't quite look him in the eye, so he patted his shoulder in an effort to at least make a connection.

"Doyouwanttogoupstairs?"

It took Howard a moment to translate.

"Upstairs? Of course, you'll want to get a stain treatment on that shirt..."

"No, Howard. Do. You. Want. To. Go. Upstairs? For real?" Vince seemed to think he was making sense, but Howard was lost.

"We can go upstairs and... C'mon, Howard. Don't make me say it."

"I'm afraid you're going to have to, Little Man... Oh."

Vince nodded, "That's right, Howard. I want to Oh."