#The intimacy of the social cigarette circle...do you understand...........

[creepyscritches]

I wish smoking cigarettes wasn't bad for you like YEAH I'm glad I quit but you have to understand the wing-clip it was to remove the cigarette from the grungy southern emo. Rehoming my zippo collection like I'm signing a no pet lease w a house full of cats...

[hecohansen31]

A Little Pick Me Up:

Fire & Reign! Michael Langdon+Reader

(A/N): Hello there, lovelies!

I do have to say that this little fic is extremely out of my comfort zone and much different from my usual writing so if you want to send me a feedback about it I will be extremly grateful and love you for ever, because I am low key scared of how this can be perceived and if I did a good job!

(My DMs and asks are always open, also guys: do you see my ask button? Because people have told me that they can’t see it, and I don’t know why...).

I started with the idea of a much sweeter idea, F&R! Michael comforitng you because of your assholes friends, but it slowly developped into something more dirty and I mean... Michael does do the comforting but... be warned... that’s what I am trying to say...

AND LET ME KNOW IF YOU LIKED AND WANT MORE! (I honestly had fun, but I don’t know if I will ever get a similar idea in the future).

SUMMARY: You are in need of a little “pick-me-up” after your friends ruin the night, and an handsome strange might be what you might be indeed needing.

WORDS: 4,3 K

WARNINGS: Hard Unprotected (Stay Safe Lovely, and use condoms) Sex, Oral Sex (Male Receiving), Fingering, Choking and Degradation through harsh names and insults. Also use of dirty and vulgar terms.

Her night had been distastefully bad, but it hadn’t hit its worst yet.

Still she had had to have a little break from her assholish friends.

It wasn’t that she didn’t like her friends: they were her friends because when they had met, she had honestly loved them (also all the other best friends had been taken…) but slowly she had grown and their interests hadn’t matched anymore.

She didn’t want to seem presumptuous, but she had felt like she had always tried her best to succeed, never being simply satisfied by arriving but shooting for the stars, whereas her friends had simply chosen the easiest way.

And worst of all, they didn’t understand those who had a different vision from them: she had been constantly bugged on being single, not in a relationship, not wanting to start a family and living her best life.

It just seemed difficult for them to fathom that her life could be perfect that way and at first they had taken away her self-esteem.

But then she had learnt that they weren’t worth the loss of her last  precious brain cells and she had tried her best to avoid them.

But her friends had insisted so much, saying that she wasn’t going out anymore so much that they all forgot how she looked like (she had said they had social media for that, but swiftly she had discovered it was easier to give up than to fight with them).

In the end she had fallen in the vicious circle of going back to her friends and she had spent exactly only five minutes and she was already annoyed by the entire atmosphere, choosing to go outside to be able to breath properly ad not surrounded by the smoke of cigarettes and lousy laughs, also to check her phone, since her friends labelled as antisocial, her checking her phone.

She had actually been expecting an important answer to a message, but her phoned showed still no notification, so she just decided to enjoy for a bit more the chance to breath regularly and not through her nose, before going back inside, adjusting slowly her hair.

And meanwhile she did this, she accidentally stumbled against a tall surface, much warmer than she had expected, immediately realizing that she had gone against a human body.

A very handsome body, she had reasoned, as soon as she had looked up, meeting beautiful azure eyes, shining even in the dark fall night, a thrill of definitely-not-because-of-the-cold-air appearing under her skin, reaching her hand, which trembled lightly.

He had the same constitution of statue sculpted by Fidia, with perfectly balanced elegant traits.

Each completely full of expression and elegance that made her immediately blush, under such a watchful gaze, making it all seem so unimportant to him, as if she wasn’t nothing than an annoying breath of wind on his face.

-… mind where you are going, lady- he simply warned her roughly, without even sharing a simple glance at her, which made her feel even more self-conscious and unable to reply anything properly, just choosing to nod, with her head down to avoid any kind of eye-contact.

She moved faster toward the bar, feeling immediately safe as soon as she entered it, knowing the stranger’s gaze wouldn’t follow her, there.

Although she could still feel it right on her back as if she had drawn a sign over it, a target practice for beautiful men with a huge ego.

She joined her friends and decided to let go for a few drinks, nothing to make her truly drunk, but enough to feel less self-conscious, meanwhile she danced around the bar.

But soon, even there, her amusement was interrupted shortly: a drunkard splashed horridly his beer on the front of her dress pants, and immediately one of her friends pushed her in the small bathroom of the club, suggesting she immediately rubbed off the stain or it would have stayed.

She had undressed, remaining just in her white shirt, and pink panties, and after she pushed her bag away from the ground, she had started brushing the pants together, having pushed them under the water a few minutes before, to let them soak.

When she was sure that the smell of beer was almost gone, she pushed them under the hot air supplier in order to dry them.

… and there, the door opened.

Catching her half-naked, her ass perfectly showed to the door, she turned and came face to face with the invader to reprimand them, just to find them to be the stranger she had met outside.

Now that light shone even better on him right, it brought out each curls of his molten gold hair, meanwhile his azure eyes were bright with amusement.

She didn’t understand if he was simply amused by the situation or satisfied with what he saw.

She managed to speak up finally, immediately shielding her modesty with her pants, meanwhile eyeing him with indignation.

-Can’t you see it’s occupied? – .

He didn’t seem to care, giving her an annoyed glance, moving closer which prompted her to try her best to back away, till she felt the wall against her skin.

Why had this shitty bathroom to be just a little room, with a sink and the toilette and nothing else?

The man still stopped a bit before her, enough that she could fit her whole arm between them.

-You were honestly taking too much time- he replied uninterested, although his eyes shone with feverish excitement at her shocked state, which got a furious glare from her.

-It won’t take me too long, I swear five minutes and I will leave you all alone- she pleaded, knowing that she was at its mercy.

That cruel smile roughly telling her that it wouldn’t have been that easy.

-… oh but I think that I lost any interest into anything I wanted to do before, after I saw a pretty girl bump into me- she tried not to give to the “pretty girl” too much thought (although she did), knowing he was toying with her exactly as a cat would do with a mouse.

She was just a game.

And she honestly was having the time of that night, playing it.

His rough demanding voice sent a few good thrills down her spine and hadn’t she bee so damnably embarrassed by what had happened and because of the danger of the entire situation, she might have thought about trying something against him back.

Thankfully she didn’t have to, because feeling her indecision, he moved closer, much more swiftly than she thought was humanly possible, pushing her front roughly against the wall, her face slamming decidedly without grace against the lattices at the window, but any pain she felt was immediately relieved by the gentle friction of his hard-on, against her barely-there panties, which prompted a low moan of appreciation from her.

-… still want me to get out, pretty girl? – he breathed in her neck, before pulling her hair back to expose more for his lips, starting to tease it mercilessly, kisses were followed by nibbles and hickeys, she was sure, would be soon blooming.

And her hips would be bruised by his grip, keeping her pushed against him, not leaving her any decision for their movements, just a slow, barely accentuated grinding session going on down there, meanwhile she tried to fathom the words.

She knew that the rational part in her was totally fighting against this.

She didn’t know the guy, but she wanted to be fucked by him oh so badly.

It had been so long since she had a man in her, and she missed more than the sensation, the intimacy of it all: a warm body against her, her most secret zones exposed for him to discover them and the little shivers of pleasure that followed an earth-shattering orgasm.

What he seemed to promise with his languid moves and expert touches.

He seemed to already know her body.

And he knew even her darkest secrets as soon as a sound slap was delivered to her ass for taking too much answering, meanwhile he gently distanced himself from her.

The coldness and the friction gone did help with thinking, but she couldn’t help but let out a frustrated sigh, meanwhile he turned around, with a look that called her the most pathetic creature in the universe, sweetened partially by his interested eyes, looking and wanting to hear an answer.

-I asked you a question- he articulated slowly each word, as if she needed him to do that for her to understand him, as if she was nothing more than a disobedient child (she should have seriously answered  with the rational part of her brain and got the hell out of there) -… do you want me to get out, leave you unsatisfied, to take care of yourself or do you want me to stay and take care of you, if you will be a good girl? -.

-I want you to stay- she uttered.

Maybe it was the fact that just a small taste had gotten her already addicted.

Maybe it was the fact that she hadn’t gotten enough “action” lately.

Or maybe it was just the fact that he honestly looked like a dream come true and these occasions didn’t happen so often…

… so, she would be a stupid to refuse it.

… and freaking irresponsible to accept it.

-… I want you to stay… what? – and each word was punctuated with a slap to her ass, alternating her cheeks, before he roughly grabbed them both, smiling at the hiss she breathed out.

He was apparently in something much kinkier than what she had expected

-I want you to stay, Sir- she hoped she got it right and apparently she did, because this time he gently caressed her ass, meanwhile his other hand pushed itself under her shirt, searching her breasts, and cupping them through her bra, before also intruding itself in it, pinching her nipple and soft moan was released from her lips.

-Good girl- he mumbled, pushing her closer, till their lips mashed together, and his hand came to her neck blocking it there, the other hand tangling even more in her hair.

Meanwhile an hand made a quick work of her bra, the other moved into her panties, at first testing out the water, her own wetness sipping gently through her thighs, meanwhile he expertly brushed his long fingers against her heat, teasingly at first, letting her feel every inch of it, before he suddenly dipped one finger in her.

She immediately recoiled by snapping herself closer to him, impossibly close.

The moan she was halfway through releasing was again caught by his lips, but this time, another sound slap was delivered to her ass.

-Oh, babygirl, you need to be quiet, I didn’t say you could utter another word …- he smirked deviously -… unless it’s obviously sir or you begging for my cock-.

She nodded slightly, focusing more on his controlling tone than the actual words he was speaking out.

And everything was obliterated by the adding of another finger, which got her to try to grasp his hand, overwhelmed by the sensation, the burning of the penetration, her body needing a minute to ease the unease, not used to the stretch anymore, and the pleasure from the gentle pressure.

She felt herself lose completely in whatever he was doing to her, completely destroying her last shreds of dignity.

He cooed her moans mockingly, allowing her at least those, but no pity with his thrusts becoming more and more faster, meanwhile his thumb started roughly brushing against her clit.

-Aren’t you eager? – he made fun of her, and of her hips pushing back against his fingers -… and for who? A stranger… what a little cock-starved whore-.

She didn’t care even slightly about the insult, not when his words seemed so sweet and so alluring.

… and not most importantly, uncapable to have any kind of bite in her tongue, when he brushed against her softest spot.

He saw her face, turning blank and then her eyes almost rolling in the back of her head, and he just smirked deviously (she was sure it was a permanent feature of his), intensifying the movement of his finger and worst of all, pushing another in.

This got a very loud moan from her, chastised away with a rough slap on his part.

-… quiet, pet-.

… and worst than the reprimand was the fact he retrieved his fingers, just when she was the closest to losing her mind, in that fall that people liked to call orgasm.

This obviously got her to be bold:

-You can’t…- but before she could finish the phrase, he grabbed her throat, choking her lightly.

-What, pet? – he tried to make her speak, but she wasn’t able to utter a single word, meanwhile he was choking her roughly, applying more and more pressure, pushing her even more against the wall -… tell me you didn’t speak back, like a very bad girl-.

She wasn’t able to give an answer but tried to shake her head, not wanting to displease him.

It didn’t work.

His choking grip got harder, and she felt herself slowly losing herself again, but then he just released so suddenly that she immediately fell on her knees, breathing a relieved breath, meanwhile he gave her a minute to collect.

But her meditations and calm breaths came to a halt, the fingers, that had been in her, were swiftly pushed in her mouth, with the implicit order to clean them up, chocking her again, meanwhile they searched the inside of this throat, making her gag on them.

But the stranger was relentless.

He just made them exit her mouth, when he had enough for the pathetic show of her choking on them.

The desperation in her eyes seemed only a turn-on for him.

-Oh, sweetheart of mine, you have done so many bad things- he spoke up after he had cleaned the saliva of his finger on a side of her face -… first you ask for me to let you cum, when you have done nothing to deserve it-.

He faked being disappointed, even going as far as shaking his head.

-… then you go against my order of staying the fuck quiet-.

His shoe came between her thighs, spreading them, and revealing her panty clad core, not that the pinkish fabric did nothing to cover her arousal, coating even the inside of her thighs.

She seriously should have been ashamed to give a stranger such a show.

But she honestly didn’t care about dignity in that moment.

All she cared was to convince this stranger to soothe the painful ache in her center.

-… the punishment for all this misbehaving would be not to let you cum for tonight- her face must have shown her utter sadness at that, making him smile almost kindly, his fingers going under her chin to raise it -… but I am feeling generous tonight, and I will allow you another chance of redemption-.

His fingers left her chin so suddenly that she found herself staring at the ground, a laughter being emitted from his mouth, meanwhile his hands went to his belt, undoing it quickly, meanwhile another hand tangled in her hair.

She immediately understood what he was doing and in search of some redemption for her previous misbehaving she moved closer, nosing the evident bulge in his trouser, mouthing it over the fabric, stealing a hiss from him, meanwhile he brought her closer.

-… see… shit… you can be a good girl, can’t you, sweetie? – he cooed, meanwhile he helped her get it all out from his trouser and if she had thought the bulge was massive, the real thing was even worse.

Monstrous and slightly leaking already, although the stranger seemed unaffected by any of her ministrations, vocally.

And he gave her no time to recover from the discovery, pushing his cock between her lips.

His hand on her hair guiding her through it all, at first slowly, inching her closer to the base, meanwhile she tried to breath through her nose and not choke on it, remembering the teeth and stroking her tongue around it a few times.

But soon he became rougher, following only his pleasure, pushing and pulling her against his cock.

And worst of all he said such dirty things that went straight to her leaking center.

-What if somebody walks in on you like this… - he said, meanwhile he kept her choked against his pubic bone, her throat being stretched to unexpected lengths -… they will think that you are an whore for blowing the first guy that comes around-.

He finally released the grip, but didn’t let her get away from his cock, no matter the fact that she was roughly gagging on it, slowly losing her breath.

-… I bet your friends would have never thought to have such as an whore like you amongst them- he laughed loudly, almost childishly -… thank God, I found you before any of them, I would hate to share such a body and such a pretty mouth-.

And to enforce his affirmation he traced her swollen lips, meanwhile they circled his cock.

She knew that, no matter the mocking words, he was close to finishing and was surprised when he moved her off of his cock, thinking that she might have done something wrong, but all she saw was the damned  smirk, almost mocking her for her own desperation.

But she hadn’t thought about the worst.

The stranger started jerking himself of off her and immediately she understood what he wanted to do.

A splash of cum hit her face and she made it just in time to close her eyes before her entire face was sticky with his cum, her mascara running down and her gloss appearing even more shiny.

She honestly couldn’t fathom how humiliating it was, but she didn’t move or did anything out of pure fear of what he might have done…

… how worse how he could have tortured her, teasing her for longer than she could wait for.

-… see, my girl can be quite good when she wants to- he winked at her, before helping her up, much more gently than he had handled her a few minutes before, gently picking her up, and pushing her against the wall, meanwhile she instinctively gripped her legs around his waist -… I think that now that I know how your mouth feels, I can’t wait to discover how tight your little cunt is-.

And he pushed in her, not losing for even a moment his hardness.

On her part she lost again her breath, hissing roughly on his shoulder, meanwhile her nails sink themselves in his back: she felt pain, at first, the stretch was so sudden, but pitifully he gave her enough time to adjust herself to the new sensation, soon pleasure blooming by the friction between their bodies, heightened by his sleight of hand of touching her clit, rubbing it furiously.

Her swollen folds welcomed him inside with every thrust, pushing her against the wall and closer to the edge, because if she had been excited and aroused, now that she had a taste, she was reckless and free, trying to ignore the burning stretch of her muscles, overused and tired of the uncomfortable position.

He carried her as if she weighted nothing, encouraging her to moved faster and faster on him, murmuring the dirtiest praises in her ear.

“What a good little slut for me” “Only a whore of my cock” “The fact that someone might walk in meanwhile I fuck your little pussy open is actually exciting you, isn’t it?”.

She was done, much faster than him, but each time she was the closest to getting her well-deserved orgasm, he relented the rhythm, even going as far as to pinch her oversensitive clit, looking at her, expecting.

She was so lost in pleasure and her own destruction that she didn’t know what he was looking for, till his eyes felt to her lips, which she opened, finally pleading her case:

-Sir, let me cum… ? – although it was worded as a question, there was some sick desperation behind it which spoke of endless nights spent alone and the willingness to do anything to get a single orgasm in that night.

… possibly, in that moment.

-You didn’t say the magic world, slut of mine- his hands went to her throat pushing her against the wall even more and pulling her hair back, making her throw her head back, making her roughly buckle her hips into him, trying to bring him closer.

-Please… please- she was breathless and her hips were slowly losing their ways, tired and unsatisfied, almost as if this was worthless, but thankfully the stranger kept up the pace for her, definitely pushing her closer, his hand again on his clit.

-… good girl- he cooed, delivering a few pretty brutal thrusts to point out each word -… but do you deserve to cum? -.

She honestly wanted to tell him that he was the one who didn’t deserve to cum was him.

But no amount of her being a smartass or talking back would have brought her to the finale she deserved, so she just shook her head, some of the tears which had formed, fell faster on her cheeks.

-I don’t… but…- a thrust cut her off, but she could see from his smirk and the fact that the force which lead his thrusts -…I will be on my best behavior, sir, if you let me-.

Her entire breath gave out under here and she choked on air, but she knew she had gotten what she had wanted, when his gaze finally became serious, pleasure taking over any scheme he might have had in his mind.

-Say my name when you cum- he just replied, meanwhile his thrust hit her right in her perfect spot, his hands pushing her shoulder up his and finally giving up any semblance of control, letting her finally feel truly free.

Free to crash and fall and let go.

-Michael! – she just screeched, her nails digging in his skin to keep herself anchored on him, meanwhile the flow of pleasure brought her to another planet.

The proverbial knot in her stomach immediately unknotting herself as she let go, all over him.

She didn’t care about anything.

He held her tight and kept her legs from giving out, pushing recklessly just for his own pleasure, which he reached a few minutes after, his seed pooling in her, but some also tricked down her thighs.

And then all the tension and tiredness came back and slowly they untangled form himself, with him also exiting her, his seed flowing largely outside of her, and he reached down gently collecting the mix of their pleasure, tasting the mix of the two, meanwhile she tried to collect her breath.

And after he had a taste of her, he finally snapped out of it.

His visage becoming gentler and he reached for her bag, pushing out her tissues and staining it with a bit of water, before moving to clean her cum-filled face and holes, with a gentleness he didn’t own, before, meanwhile his  lips traced gently her neckline, as if shushing a scared child.

-Sweetheart, aren’t you happy I decided to pay you a little visit? – he cooed gently, meanwhile she basked in the afterglow of her intense orgasm and his gentle affection.

-Uhm..- she mumbled, trying to connect her last brain cells to answer him -… I thought you weren’t supposed to arrive till tomorrow-.

-Missed you too much- he nuzzled her shoulder, meanwhile kissing the little hickey he had left there.

She and Michael had discovered this kink, “the-impersonating-strangers-and-fucking”, one night over at a bar, when Michael had joked about not knowing her, trying to pick her up and flirt with her and she had kept up the game.

This had led to a mind-blowing sex experience they usually replayed whenever they were stressed or needed a little pick-me-up, indeed.

She had been surprised to see Michael outside but seeing his reaction, she had immediately recognized that he had wanted to play and acted out the entire thing, imagining he was a stranger.

It just gave them the right adrenaline thrill, but also it was safety into exploring such a wild fantasy with somebody you knew.

-… also, I saw that you were in need of a little pick-me-up- he giggled, completely moving away from his dom persona, unlike her who was half-asleep and still half in her sub-space.

Her legs burning like hell and she was halfway through slipping on him, with them giving out on him.

-… and it worked- she smiled, sweetly, before leaning in for a kiss, meanwhile she wrapped her arms the tightest around his neck -… I am the most satisfied ever-.

He laughed at her sleepy voice, and immediately he threw her over his shoulder, after having pushed his coat over her shoulder, in order to shield her naked ass.

-I hope you are not too satisfied…- he asked almost threatening her, a dark age of erotism clear in her voice and she was suddenly brought awake from her tired cage -… because I intend to have a second round with you, in a proper bed-.

-Getting tired, old man? – she made fun of him, just getting a dark laugh from him, the one that promised her not to be able to walk in the morning.

-No, I have a lot of alone nights to make up for-.

...

So, lovelies... I hope you liked this, let me know what you thought about it (I am very curious to know your thoughts, mostly because this was very out of my comfort zone...) and here it is a lovely list of my favorite people, who might enjoy this!

@so-langdon @blakewaterxx @emmyrosee @rocketgirl2410 @hplotrfan @1-800-bitchcraft @lovelylangdonx @drama-penguins @dramapenguinthe3rd @yourfavoritefairy @rosz93 @eternalnostalgia @langdonsoutpost @hxdesworld @michaels-fallen-angel @daddyjiel @langdonsinferno @signatureroast-burntasshole @kleineshaschen @ladynuwanda

[ancientbooshartifacts]

How Dave Brown Falls in Love

Author: coeur_de_noir

Year: 2008

Rating: PG

Pairing: Mike/Dave, Noel/Dave, Noel/Julian

“Alright?” Dave looks up from his sketchpad, a half smile of greeting on his lips before his eyes even properly register the figure lolling in his doorway. His blue eyes glint in amusement as he takes in the jumbled assortment of hair and elbows and knees propped up by the doorjamb, all unlikely angles and unexpected curves. “You look like a Brecht,” Dave says, and chuckles. Noel laughs softly, his intoxicated grin so wide that his back teeth catch and reflect the dim lamplight. “Yeah, and I'm hung like a Pollock,” he retorts, and staggers the short but strewn path across the student common room to the sofa, upsetting Dave’s pencil box, a glass of water and a packet of cigarettes on the way. “Anyway,” he continues, “I’m a post modern bitch, Brown. Warhol, not Brecht, yeah? All bright colours and social irony.” “You’re a tit,” says Dave, patting Noel’s knee with one hand and righting the glass with the other. He shoves a cushion over the puddle of water and watches it soak into the fabric, before pushing it half under the coffee table, like it never existed. He picks up his sketchpad again, and rests it on his knee. “Whatcha drawing, boy wonder?” Noel peers over his shoulder, pushing his errant hair back with a languorous hand, his skin smelling like an incongruous mixture of hashish and musk sticks and sweat. His smooth cheek presses against Dave’s slightly stubbled one, and his breath fans across Dave’s skin, tickling his throat. Dave feels Noel smile as they both regard the sketch coming to life on the page under Dave’s expert fingers. “Hey, its me!” Noels pleasure is evident in his voice, and his arms snake around Dave’s waist, hands clasping just above Dave’s belly button. He leans forward slightly, and his thin chest presses along Dave’s back, so close that Dave can feel the protrusion of each rib. Noel laughs, and Dave’s world vibrates. “You’ve got my nose wrong, Brown. Back to portraiture 101 for you!” Dave swats his forearm amiably. “It’s an elusive nose, Fielding, impossible to capture, changing at will.” “Like a chameleon!” Noel exclaims, and laughs. “Born adapter, blending into its environment,” Dave agrees. “Is it a nose.. no, its an ear.. oh nooo it’s a crooked finger!” Noel giggles and Dave rolls his eyes. “Now you’re starting to sound like a Picasso.” Noel smiles and presses his lips against the pulse in Dave’s throat, and Dave can feel more than see that Noel has closed his eyes. The intimacy is unexpected, but not unwelcome or unknown - it’s Noel, after all, and his casual touches have been more or less constant since Dave met him. It’s comfortable, actually. Somehow right. “I like that you’re drawing me,” Noel says. And it was more or less at that exact moment that Dave Brown fell in love with Noel Fielding. * “You should come see this guy with me tonight Dave, I’m telling you, he’s genius!” It’s months after that night, and Dave still hasn’t done anything about the small shining feeling he has in his gut that’s expressly reserved for Noel. He looks over the top of his camera, smiling at Noel’s enthusiasm and patiently waiting for Noel to recall that he’s meant to be posing. He laughs inwardly as he sees the moment of recollection, the way Noel looks a bit furtive and guilty before settling back on the windowsill and arranging his limbs into a graceful recline. The camera flashes and Dave moves a little closer, setting up the next shot. “Who is he, anyway?” Dave’s voice is absent, and he isn’t really listening, but he likes the way that Noel’s face looks when he talks and he wants to get that on film if he can. His fingers adjust the lens and he bends, poised in a shaft of sunlight, his hair a golden scruff around his face. “His name is Julian Barratt and he’s the best comedian I’ve ever seen!” Noel’s face lights up, and he leans forward, his eyes widening in excitement. “Dave, honestly, its like he’s reaching into my head and pulling out the words..” Dave chuckles. “Trust you to fall for someone who could be you, you tosser,” he says affectionately, expertly clicking and moving and waiting patiently for the next right expression, the next right light, the next right Noel. “Noel Fielding, the ultimate narcissist.” Noel blushes slightly, and Dave, ever observant, frowns in consternation. Noel, that shameless poptart, blushing? He slowly lowers the camera. “Do you like him?” Dave asks, and his tone is almost incredulous. “Like, like him, like him?” Noel bites his thumbnail and looks slightly shifty, hesitating, and Dave thinks that its pretty much all the answer that he needs. “You do!” It’s not quite an accusation, but its close. “Oh shut it, Brown.” Noel’s hesitation dissolves into a laugh and Dave tilts his head, unsure he’s read the situation correctly. “I just told you I liked him, didn’t I? He’s a brilliant comedian.” “Oh. Oh yeah, right.” Dave shakes himself, dismissing his thoughts, and raises the camera again. Noel flashes him that spectacular sunshine grin, the one Dave thinks he should patent, like how Betty Grable insured her legs or whatever. When he’s famous, that’s the grin that is going to melt the pants off every teenage girl this side of London. Noel settles into a more sedate smile and Dave sighs, wanting that animation back. He decides to push a few buttons, and tells himself its for the shots, just the shots. “So,” he begins, “whats he look like then?” “Hmm?” Noel looks up at him, his brows raising. “Who?” Dave tsks impatiently. “You goldfish. Barratt, of course, who else?” “Oh!” Noel pauses, his mouth opening in thought, tongue pressing to the inside of his cheek. His eyes wander upwards and Dave snaps off a few quick shots to make sure he gets that look. “Well, he’s tall, I guess. Hugely tall, actually. And, um, unkempt, kind of. Wears odd clothes. Dreadful hair, looks like its been cut by his mum. A big, manly kind of man. Very.. ahh, masculine. And weird...” Dave relaxes slightly, unaware that he was even tense. This Barratt guy doesn’t sound like Noel’s type at all. “... weird and awkward, like his skin is itching. Like he’s itching right out of his freckled northern skin.” “Ah.” Dave says. “He’s clearly from Leeds.” Noel explodes in a burst of laughter. “Clearly from Leeds! Genius!” Dave captures a few last shots. He’ll call these ones Fielding in Motion: Noel’s all bent in on himself, his laugh exuding from every inch of his body, like a muppet. “You know the type. Doesn’t have a car, picks up women in his tractor.” “Or in his wheelbarrow!” Noel giggles and puts on a northern accent that is still somehow distinctly South London, only deeper. “Oi! Get in me wheelbarra!” “Aww ya cheeky vixen!” Dave chimes in and laughs along with Noel, comforted by the fact Noel is so willing to take the piss. “Alright then. Get your gumboots on lovey. Sounds like we have a date with your husky northern gent tonight, eh?” “As if! Gumboots!” Noels smile of exasperation and excitement, when he turns it on Dave, makes Dave’s heart stop. * The applause is fractured and uncertain as Barratt leaves the makeshift stage, and Dave isn’t quite sure what to think. Noel was right, Barratt was kind of like him, with all the flights of fancy and tangents and movement - but with less natural appeal and a lot more anxiety. He had a tendency to leave the uncomfortable silences hanging rather than fill them with beguiling chatter the way that Noel did, and although he was funny, Dave found himself cringing more than once. Beside him at the bar Noel is fair near bouncing out of his skin. “Wasn’t he brilliant, Dave! Didn’t I tell you!” Noel spots Barratt across the pub and waves him over, his grin too large for his face, his eyes alight with eagerness as the big guy approaches. Dave mumbles something non committal, and it wouldn’t have mattered if he said what he really thought anyway because Noel was already turning away from him, shining the full force of his disarming charm into the face of a clearly discomfited Barratt. “Julian! That was brilliant! Everything... you know, everything that you said .. it was all just amazing. I loved it!” Noel’s enthusiasm is almost as painful to watch as Barratt’s awkward receipt of it. Noel looks like an excited puppy that’s torn between shagging Barratt’s leg or doing a little piddle on the carpet. Just as Dave decides that the mount is more likely, Noel leans over the bar and shouts for a round. Barratt’s gaze flicks in Dave’s direction, but doesn’t quite meet Dave’s own. He nods in acknowledgement, and Dave nods back, and then Noel is pushing the pint into Barratt’s hands and the moment is over. Dave sighs and settles back against the bar, listening with growing pain as the words flow back and forth between Noel and this Barratt character. Noel and Barratt form a circle for two, unconsciously excluding everything else around them as their conversation grows more absurd. Dave can see why Noel likes him - they complement each other almost exactly, like two sides of a coin. Noel is filling in all the awkward silences, and Barratt’s deep tenor is rumbling in appreciation and its like they've known each other for years. Dave forces a smile as Noel turns even further away, drawn against the big man like filings to a magnet. And then Dave sees the look in Barratt’s eyes, and suddenly it’s hard to think of him as 'Barratt' anymore. Suddenly he’s Julian, and the look in Julian’s eyes is familiar because it’s the look that Dave sees every day in the mirror - it’s the look that says that Noel Fielding has entered your life and made you love him and you don’t quite know what to do about it. He gives Julian a half smile of shared understanding and drains his pint in a single swallow. “Righto, lads, I’m off.” “Daaavee,” Noel whines. Noel tries to look at Dave, but he can’t quite draw his eyes away from Julian, and with a sinking feeling Dave suddenly knows that Julian has become Noel’s personal sun, the object that he’ll orbit around for all of his days whether he knows it, or not. It hurts more than he expects, but its also kind of a relief. “Dave nothing,” he smiles, and raises his hand in a half salute to Julian. “See you guys around” he says, and ambles out of the pub and into the dark London night. He was still in love with Noel of course, but that was almost the exact moment that he knew that he would never do anything about it. * Dave sits, laptop nestled in the thick bed of Bollo’s furry knees, blue eyes all smeared with greasepaint and staring fixedly at the flickering screen. He brings up a file, and smiles, his fingers moving with certainty on the mouse. The now famous Fielding-Barratt banter washes over him from across the room, but he isn’t really listening. It’s been years since their personal universe has had the power to hurt him; these days he just records it for posterity. He finds it comfortable to be a part of it, actually. Seeing Julian now - the way his eyes follow Noel like they were on a lead, how he pines for the thing that he wants most but thinks he cant have - Dave thinks he got off lightly. Noel is still Noel of course. He loves Julian unreservedly, and never gives a thought to the fact that Julian is the centre of his universe - Noel just accepts it as the natural order of things and basks in Julian’s adoration, never really thinking about what it might mean to someone who questioned those feelings rather than taking them as their due. Dave’s love as it was has extended, growing to encompass the Boosh in entirety - Noel and Julian and Rich and Mike. His smile deepens a bit at the thought of Mike, actually, and his eyes finally leave the screen to seek the little guy out. Across the room, Mike meets his gaze, wrinkling his nose in Noel and Julian’s general direction as they verbally beat each other. They are co-conspirators, both excluded by the way Noel and Julian are each oblivious to anyone but each other, and Dave likes that - it seems to bring he and Mike closer together. Dave rolls his eyes in sympathy and Mike gets up, his slight figure weaving through the discarded costumes and beer bottles and bubble machines that are scattered over the dressing room floor. He plonks down next to Dave, his turban askew, and passes Dave a roach. As Dave inhales, Mike rests his head on Dave’s shoulder, cosying up to the Bollo fur with a sigh of satisfaction. Dave smiles at the slight weight of Mike, and thinks it feels pretty good. Pretty right, in fact. Mike takes the roach back and glances at the screen, eyes crinkling in delight. “Hey! s’me!” he says, and watches as Dave’s clever fingers add titles and select frames and do all that other mysterious stuff that only Dave knows how to do. “Course it is, little Naboo,” Dave says, in his Bollo voice. “Naboo and Bollo are the Boosh. Never mind them jazzy benders.” Mike laughs and glances over at Noel and Julian, who, having abandoned their sparring, have now settled on the couch, heads bent close as they birth a new creative love child. “Yeah, I’m the hardest working shaman in showbiz!” Mike asserts, and reaches up to brush back a sweaty lock of Dave’s hair. “Blood sweat and tears,” Dave agrees, then adds “sweat, mostly.” Mike grins and looks up at Dave, his expression both innocent and impish. “You look like a Monchichi with your Bollo head off, you know.” he says, and laughs. “Want me to fan your balls?” And it is more or less at that exact moment, that Dave Brown fell in love with another Fielding.