Aloha. Okay, so yeah, I'm starting another story while I already have two others and the songfics on the go. And it's a sort-of crossover. But to be honest, the only reason I'm doing this is because I was watching The Graduate, and for some reason Ben and Mrs Robinson reminded me in some weird way of Vince and Howard. Also, I just wanted an excuse to write the sexy scenes that aren't in the film, and I happen to like writing Howince a lot, so hence the crossover. Well, more of an AU, really. But in future chapters, you can expect lots of lovely KINK.

I'm not sure how far into the film to go tho, and anyone who's seen it will know why. Advice on this would be appreciated please.

Also, I have had no feedback about my Spider/Monkey idea, so I've decided to go ahead with it anyway. The challenge of het pr0n awaits.

Disclaimer: The Boosh is owned by Julian Barratt and Noel Fielding, who are secret agents, members of secret societies, and secret lovers on the side. The Graduate is owned by someone at Studio Canal, I think, the director is Mike Nichols but I don't think he has the rights. Based on the novel of the same name by Charles Webb. The lyrics are from 'Sound of Silence' by Simon and Garfunkel, which is one of the most beautiful songs in existence, and the title is taken from the song 'Mrs Robinson', also by Simon and Garfunkel.

This fic is dedicated to Hattie for giving me advice on it, and suggesting some kinks for the later chapters.

Enjoy, please.

God Bless You, Please, Mr Moon

Vince Noir, dressed as beautifully as his new life required him, stood, still and almost ethereal, but still always chained down to the earth, on the slow-moving escalator. The song played softly through the tannoy system, an old one, melodic, quite beautiful if you were in the mood. Leroy would have liked it.

Hello Darkness, my old friend,

I've come to talk with you again…

Bleak, he couldn't help thinking.

He waited silently by the luggage conveyor until his three extra large and overstuffed suitcases appeared, took them with some difficulty and loaded them onto a trolley, and finally made it to the exit, where, smiling and waving, overjoyed to see him, his parents were waiting to pick him up.

Vince sat quietly, watching the fish in the tank. They seemed so carefree, such an easy life, but they were stuck in a tank, and if they ever escaped they would die. It was poignant, when you thought about it.

And then, it was just weird that a hotel toilet would have a fishtank in it at all.

"Vince," his father called, entering the toilet quietly. "Everyone's in the ballroom. They're waiting to see you."

"I just wanna be alone for a bit," Vince replied. "I've had people doing nothing but look at me for the last six weeks."

"But these are all our friends, Vince," his father reasoned. "They've known you since you were born." He looked at his son critically. "What is it?"

Vince thought. "I'm just…"

"What?" asked his father. "Worried?"

Vince just sighed.

"About what?"

"I guess about my future."

"What about your future? You're doing what you've always wanted. What's wrong with that now?"

"I dunno," Vince sighed. "I just want it to be… different."

His father smiled, but before he could reply, the shimmery cocktail dress and smiling face of Vince's mother appeared in the doorway, ignoring the fact that it was clearly a men's toilet. "Is something wrong?"

"No, we were just coming out," replied her husband, taking Vince by the arm and pulling him up. The two of them strutted down the corridor, Vince following closely behind.

"It is a wonderful thing to have so many devoted friends," his father said, though who to, Vince wasn't sure.

As soon as he reached the ballroom, Vince was ambushed by the cries of his parents' friends.

"Hey, there's the soon-to-be supermodel!"

"We're all very proud of you!"

Standard praises, standard replies. He just had to keep talking, keep speaking, and they'd leave him alone in the end.

"Hey, you won't have much trouble picking up the girls now, not that you ever did before, eh! Those teenyboppers will never be able to leave you alone."

"I think Vince has moved on from the teenyboppers now."

"Yes, I have." That would be illegal. "Excuse me, I'm just going to get a drink."

He made his way to the drinks table, but as he picked up the night's saving grace, a little vodka to alleviate the boredom of a formal party with friends of the family, when he felt the arms of Mrs Moon, nee Gideon, nee Ratcliffe, nee Smith, nee Henderson, nee Roberts, nee Epperton, nee Berezhnaya, around his shoulders.

"Hey, catwalk model," she purred, in that undeniably alluring Russian accent. "How are you, catwalk model?"

"I'm fine, Mrs Moon."

"Good. I'm going to get a drink, and then I want to hear all about your show. All about it."

But before she had even turned her back, he was pulled away by a grinning aunt. "Vincey, we are so proud of you! What are you planning to do now?"

"I was gonna go outside for a bit," he answered.

His aunt laughed, her less than slender body jiggling. "Oh, no, silly, I meant with your future."

"I haven't really decided yet."

"Excuse me." Mrs Moon was back. "Do you mind if I talk to him for a minute?"

"Of course not," Vince's aunt answered, but he and Mrs Moon were out of the door before she'd opened her mouth.

"Vince, I want to say one word to you," Mrs Moon told him. "Just one word."

"Okay."

"Are you listening?"

"I'm listening."

"Snakeskin."

There was a brief silence.

"How do you mean?"

"There's a great future in snakeskin," said Mrs Moon. "Evening wear, accessories, even lingerie. And it's cruelty free, you just wait for the snake to shed. Think about it."

"I will."

"Then it's a deal."

And with that, Mrs Moon left him. And he hadn't even had time to consider whether he'd been offered a business deal or been come on to by Six-Divorces Lisi, someone else had pounced on him.

"Excuse me, please," he cried, as soon as he spotted her coming towards him, and ran back into the hotel. His mother's voice was grating through the ballroom.

"Everybody shut up a bit! I've got a copy of the catalogue from Vince's fashion show! Who wants to see some pictures of Vince in action?"

He was swarmed at by more people, and he ran, out of the ballroom, and into the public bar at the poolside.

The tap of fingers on his side woke him from his stupor. He jumped, then looked around, at first seeing only the glowing pool water, and then noticing the small-eyed, bad-moustachioed face of Mr Moon, giving him a weak smile.

"I think someone's drunk too much," Mr Moon chided gently. He sat down next to Vince, with a faintly amused look on his face. Vince just groaned.

"Is it a lady?" Mr Moon asked.

"Mmf, is what a lady?"

"What's been upsetting you."

"Mm, no, it's just… things."

"In general?"

Vince smiled weakly.

Mr Moon smiled back. "Well, congratulations on making it big."

Vince grinned a little dizzily, and swayed on his seat. He almost fell, but was saved as he suddenly noticed that Mr Moon had jumped up to catch him.

"Alright, you need to be taken home," he could just hear Mr Moon saying. He felt himself hauled to his feet. "Come on, I've got you."

He did his best to move his legs under him as he was pulled back towards the hotel.

"What about Mrs Moon?" he asked blearily.

"My wife has left without me," said Mr Moon, with a noticeable air of annoyance. "She does that a lot. But it doesn't matter. I have a car, because she forgot to arrive with me as well."

The indecipherable sound of chatter flooded his ears as he was pulled through the ballroom. He could distantly hear Mr Moon shouting "I'm taking him home!" and shortly after he felt himself being dropped into the seat of a car. He watched as Mr Moon got into the driver's seat next to him, then leaned over and fastened his seatbelt for him. He felt the car start up, and his eyes became heavy as the gentle rhythm lulled him to sleep.

When he woke up the car had stopped and Mr Moon was poking him in the ribs. He came to slowly, as Mr Moon unfastened his seatbelt, got out of the car and came round to open the door for him and pull him to his feet.

"Come on you," he coaxed. "You need some water."

Vince tried his best to walk straight and upright, but tiredness and alcohol made him slump. Mr Moon kept his arm around Vince's waist, holding him up and steering him towards the door, but he scolded him nonetheless.

"Come on, I know you can walk, you've had plenty of time to sleep off some of that alcohol," he berated.

He held Vince up as he fished out a key and unlocked the door, leading Vince inside.

"Hang on," Vince questioned. "Why are we at your house?"

Mr Moon chose not to answer the question, but rather steered Vince into the kitchen and sat him down on a wicker chair. He left Vince there and crossed the room to the sink, and returned with a glass of water, which he pushed into Vince's hands, and Vince drank gratefully. He was beginning to feel very rough. The alcohol was wearing off, and he was beginning already to feel the dull ache in his head and a slight hint of nausea.

"Mr Moon, can you please take me home now?" he asked.

"Shh," Mr Moon said. "Stay there for a minute. My wife won't be back for a few hours. There's no need for you to leave just yet."

Mr Moon went to a stereo and put on some unidentifiable music. What it was Vince couldn't tell. It didn't sound like the jazz Mr Moon generally liked to listen to, but it was very unfamiliar to Vince. Not particularly unpleasant, but very unfamiliar.

"Vince, what do you think of me?" Mr Moon suddenly asked.

"What?"

"You've known me all your life; you must have some opinion of me."

"Well… I've always thought… you were a very nice person."

"Did you know I'm an alcoholic?"

Vince looked up at him wide eyed. "And you drove me here?"

Howard stood, giggling slightly, came over to Vince and swatted him lightly around the back of the head. Vince stood up shakily and turned to face him.

"Mr Moon, I want to go home."

"Sit down, Vincent."

Vince took a breath and tried to collect himself. "Mr Moon," he said. "If you don't mind my saying so, this conversation is getting a little strange. I'm sure Mrs Moon will be back any minute-"

"No," Mr Moon cut him off. "I told you. My wife will be gone for several hours."

Vince took a worried step back and stumbled. "Oh no," he quavered. "Oh no, oh no."

"What's wrong?" asked Mr Moon.

"Mr Moon, you didn't expect me to- to do something like that? With you?"

Mr Moon stepped closer, putting his hand on Vince's waist again, this time not steadying him at all.

"Like what?" he asked, almost growling.

"What d'you think?"

Mr Moon's hand started to rub gently at Vince's waist. "I don't know."

"I mean… you bring me back to your house instead of mine, you put on music, you start telling me things, and then you tell me your wife won't be home for hours."

"So?"

"You're trying to seduce me."

Mr Moon laughed at him softly.

"Aren't you?"

Mr Moon smiled, amused. "No. I hadn't thought about it like that. But Vince, I'm very flattered."

Vince could feel his cheeks burning. "I'm sorry."

"It's alright."
"It's not, I'm sorry. Please forgive me, 'cause I like you. I don't think of you like that, but I'm not feeling all myself right now and-"

"Shh, it's alright," Mr Moon soothed. He led Vince to the sofa in the living room. "Sit down."

"I'm really really sorry-"

"It's alright, don't you worry about it."

"No, I mean, god, what's wrong with me?"

"Have you seen the portrait we've had done of Lin?"

Vince looked up at Mr Moon, glad of the change of subject. "No."

"We had it done for her over Christmas. Do you want to see it?"

"Yes please."

Mr Moon helped him up by the hand, and led him upstairs. Calmer now, Vince seemed better able to walk.

"It's here, in the spare room," Mr Moon told him, opening the door and letting him in. he turned on the lights, and among all the pretty, girlie things, he saw the large painted portrait of Lin Fei Moon, Mr Moon's adopted niece.

"Wow," Vince admired. "Lin's very beautiful."

"Yes, she is," agreed Mr Moon. "Vince, would you come over here."

Vince crossed the room and stood in front of him.

"Look at this." He indicated a fairly large tear down the front of his shirt, next to the buttons. "You know clothes. Is it repairable?"

Vince examined it closely. "Yeah," he answered. "As long as it doesn't get any more damaged. You'll have to be careful with it."

"Will you take it off for me? I'm going to bed soon."

"Oh. Night, Mr Moon." Vince hastily went to retreat the room.

"Aren't you going to take this off?"

"I'd rather not."

"Vincent, do you still think I'm trying to seduce you?"
"No, it's just-"

"You've known me all your life, Vince."

"I know, but-"

"Come on. You said I need to be careful with it, and you've got delicate little fingers. Now will you please help me."

Vince stepped, a little nervously, up to Mr Moon and carefully unbuttoned his shirt, making sure to avoid pulling on the tear.

"Thank you."

Vince smiled and went to leave the room again.

"What are you so scared of?" Mr Moon asked, removing his shirt to reveal his tanned torso.

"I'm not scared, Mr Moon," Vince replied.

"Then why do you keep running away?"

"Because if you're going to bed then I don't really think I should be here watching."

"What's wrong?" Mr Moon asked, now removing his trousers. "Have you never seen a man in his boxers before?"

"Well, course I have, it's just that- well, what if Mrs Moon walked in right now?"

"What if she did?"

"It'd look a bit weird, wouldn't it."

"Don't you think she trusts us together?"

"Well, course she does, it's just she might get the wrong idea," Vince explained. "Anyone might."

"I don't see why she should," reasoned Mr Moon. "I've never shown attraction to another man before, why would she or anyone think-"

"But she might, can't you see-"

"Vincent," Mr Moon snapped. "I am not trying to seduce you."

"I know that, but please Mr Moon, this is-"

"Would you like me to seduce you?"

The question caught Vince off guard, and he almost jumped as Mr Moon gave a strange smile, almost… predatory, and advanced on Vince, putting his hand on Vince's waist again. "Is that what you're saying?"

"I'm going home now," Vince insisted, breaking away. "I'm sorry for what I said, and I hope you can forget it, but I'm going home."

He ran for the door and descended the stairs.

"Vince," he heard Mr Moon call down to him. "I left my mobile phone in the kitchen. Will you bring it up for me?"

"I'm going home, Mr Moon," Vince maintained.

"Vince, I'm not dressed, will you just bring it up for me."

Vince sighed and went back into the kitchen. He picked up Mr Moon's rather outdated mobile from the counter and brought it back into the hall. Mr Moon was nowere to be seen. "Mr Moon?" he called.
"I'm in the bathroom."

"I've got your phone."

"Bring it up."

"I'll hand it over to you," Vince compromised. "Come out here and I'll pass it."

"Vincent!" Mr Moon shouted from the bathroom. "I'm getting tired of all this suspicion. Now, if you won't do me a simple favour…"

"I'll leave it at the top of the stairs."

"For god's sake Vincent, will you stop acting like this and bring me the phone."

He sounded impatient, and Vince could tell he was getting angry. He swallowed nervously.

"I'll leave it here by the door," he said, approaching the ajar bathroom door.

"Bring it in."

"I'd rather not, really."

He heard Mr Moon sigh from the other side of the door.

"Fine. Put it in the spare room."

"Alright."

He wandered back into the spare room and put the phone on the shelf, just in front of the painting of Lin. As he set it down, the door slammed behind him, and he spun round to see the naked body of Mr Moon. He gasped in shock.

His eyes were assaulted by the sight of tanned skin, pink nipples, muscle just visible under flesh, the pale tan lines around his pelvis, and the inescapable sight of Mr Moon's rather large penis.

"Oh my god."

He took a deep breath.

"Let me out," he requested.

"Don't be nervous," said Mr Moon.

"Get away from the door," Vince begged.

"I want to say something to you."

"Jesus Christ."

"Vince, I want you to know that I'm available to you," said Mr Moon, sounding for all the world like an advert for a helpline. "And if you won't have sex with me tonight, then you can call me any time you want, and we'll arrange something."

"Oh my shit."

"Do you understand what-"

"Let me out."

"Do you understand what I'm saying?"

"Yes. Please let me out."

"You know you're a beautiful boy, and any time you want-"

A door slammed downstairs.

"Oh Jesus, that's her!" Vince practically shrieked. He barged past Mr Moon and pushed through the door, and pelted his way downstairs to the kitchen, where he grabbed the glass of water he had left there and set it to his lips, at the instant that Mrs Moon entered the room.

"Hello?" she called. He noticed his form in the wicker chair. "Vince? Is that you there?"

"Yes Mrs Moon," he answered.

"What are you doing in here?"

"Mr Moon brought me here. He told me about Lin's portrait and I was drunk and I wanted to see it."

Mrs Moon giggled. "Naughty boy," she laughed. Vince wasn't sure why, but he shuddered. "It's very good though, isn't it?"

"It's beautiful," Vince agreed.

"Where is my husband now?" Mrs Moon asked.

"He's just upstairs," Vince answered. "He wanted me to wait down here till I'd sobered up a bit."

Mrs Moon laughed. "Yes, that sounds like him. Come on; hair of the dog that bit you?"

"No thanks," Vince replied. "I think I've had too much already."

"No, come on, what's your poison?" Mrs Moon insisted. "Gin?"

"No thanks, too dry for me," Vince answered, but Mrs Moon chose not to hear him and poured him out a measure of gin anyway and passed it to him. He sipped it politely, not wanting to say that the stuff was awful.

They sat down, and Mrs Moon gave him a pleasant, proud and just slightly tipsy smile. "Vince, how long have we known each other?" she asked. "How long have you known me? How long have I worked with your father?"

"Quite a while," Vince answered.

"I watched you grow up, Vincey," she smiled. "In a lot of ways I feel like you're my son too."

"Thank you."

"So I hope you won't mind me giving you a little bit of advice," she continued.

"No, course not."

"Vince, I think you should be taking things a little easier right now," she told him. "Take things as they come, relax, have a good time with the girls. Don't forget the snakeskin, but don't think too hard about the future for a while. Focus on the here and now."

"Thank you, Mrs Moon." He smiled. His first genuine smile for a while now.

Mr Moon, now dressed in the same trousers he had worn for the party, but with a different shirt, came down into the kitchen. Vince stood to face him.

"Don't get up," he snapped.

"I was just telling Vince he should take things easy while he can," Mrs Moon told her husband. "He should go out, have a few flings. Do you think that's good advice, Paul?"

"I'm Howard; you divorced Paul six years ago," replied Mr Moon. "And yes," he continued, eyeing Vince up as his wife couldn't see. "I think that's very good advice."

"Thanks a lot," said Vince. "But I really should be going."

"You're not walking are you?" Mrs Moon asked.

"Yeah, I was," Vince replied.

"I'll take you home," Mrs Moon stated, not inviting any response. "Now, you remember what I've said. I bet you're quite a ladies man when you're doing your shows."

"Well, yeah," Vince answered.

"I thought so. Roger-"

"Howard."

"-doesn't he look like the sort that has to fight the girls off?"

Vince only just barely caught Mr Moon's quiet little laugh. "Yes. Yes he does."

"You know," said Mrs Moon as she led him out of the door to her car. "James' niece, Lin Fei, is coming to stay with us on Saturday. Why don't you go out with her one night?"

"That sounds great," Vince replied, trying to make himself sound as enthusiastic as he could, considering he'd never once actually met Lin.

They drove to Vince's parents' house silently, and when they got there, she left him on the kerb, and he stumbled up to his old bedroom and collapsed into bed.