Howard's Best Friend?

Disclaimer I do not own any of the characters used in this fic, they belong to Noel and Julian and the BBC3.

Vince was sat at his dressing table, carefully sorting his hair products and make-up. He was proud of his dressing table. It was large and plain white, the sort you'd probably buy from IKEA, but he'd customised it to suit his own tastes. That's why there was a bright blue feather boa draped around its frame, and photos stuck on with blu-tack around the edge. Some of them were from genius nights out in Dalston, him and Leroy mugging for the camera, him and various Camden dolly birds posing for all their might. But the ones that took pride of place were the ones of him and his best mate Howard, taken at the Zoo where they used to work. Vince looked up from sorting his hairspray cans, and grinned happily as his eye fell on a picture taken just outside the ocelot pit. Howard had a rare smile gracing his features, which made his brown eyes twinkle. Vince had an arm thrown around his shoulders, the other hand fluffing up his golden brown hair.

He finished arranging the products to his satisfaction, blew himself a cheeky kiss into the mirror, and bounded out of the room. Howard was sat on the sofa, watching a documentary about some obscure type of caterpillar. Since the disastrous incident with Jurgen Haarbermaster, he'd stopped watching documentaries about film makers, preferring the infinitely more pleasurable animal programmes. He looked up as Vince bounced in.

"Hey little man. Fancy a cuppa?"

Vince grinned as he recognised Howard's old nickname for him. It was ages since he'd called him that.

"Sure, cheers Howard."

Vince watched affectionately as Howard heaved himself up off the sofa and started padding around the small kitchen area, boiling the kettle and getting their personalised mugs out. Vince's was bright gold with a large, glittery red 'V' embellished on its side. Howard's was a muted shade of green with a sludgy brown 'H'.

Once he'd finished making the tea, Howard came back to sit next to Vince on the sofa and handed him his cup. Vince took a sip. It was perfect, just as he liked it. Three sugars and quite a bit of milk. Usually Howard didn't take this much care over his tea.

They watched the television in companionable silence for a while. Vince glanced over at Howard, and to his surprise, saw that his best mate's features were knotted together, as though he were frowning over a rather problematical maths equation.

"You alright Howard?" Howard flicked his eyes towards Vince, and nodded vaguely.

"Oh yeah, yeah. I'm fine." He turned his eyes back towards the television and then turned back to Vince again so suddenly it made Vince start.

"Actually, I've got a favour to ask you."

"Riiight." A favour to ask Vince? Usually it was the other way around. 'Howard, can you pick me up from the high street?' 'Howard, can you nip down Costcutter and get us some crisps?' 'Howard...?' 'Howard...?'

"Um, well." Whatever it was he wanted to say, it looked like Howard was having some trouble finding the words. "You know now that we've moved out from the shop, we've got more space? Our own rooms?"

"Um, yeah."

"Right, yes. Well. The thing is..."

"Just spit it out Howard, yeah?"

"Pete wants to come stay with us for a while." Howard blurted it out so fast, it took Vince's poor singlular brain cell a while to comprehend what he'd said.

"Pete?"

"Yeah, you know, my best mate back in Leeds." Vince frowned in thought as he tried to drag the memory into his head. It took a while, and when it did come, he wasn't particularly pleased.

"Pete Moss? The guy who visited us that one time in the Zoo?"

"Vince, meet Pete. Pete, this is Vince. My assistant zookeeper."

Vince glanced up from the bucket of feed he was sorting, and beamed his mega-watt smile in Pete's direction.

"Hey Pete, I'm Vince." Vince held out his hand, and Pete glanced at it, and then completely ignored him. He also didn't crack a smile, rather looked a little disgusted.

"Yeeahh. So Howard, how's it going? Fancy coming to a club tonight? Rave it up a little? I gotta be back early tomorrow, make it a good night, eh?" Vince thought he must be hearing things. Howard? Howard Moon? At a club? Had he heard this guy right? But to his surprise Howard was nodding, if not eagerly, then at least in agreement.

"Sure, that'd be great Pete. It'd be nice to catch up." Vince almost fell over with shock, but he thought he covered it up well. Despite the failure of his initial attempt to make friends, he found himself having another stab at it, for Howard's sake.

"A club? I know all the cool places round here. I'll come with you, yeah?" Pete looked at Vince disdainfully.

"Erm, actually, Vinny..."

"Vince."

"Right. Actually I wanna catch up with just Howard. You know what I'm saying?" Vince didn't, and glanced at Howard, who was now staring fixedly at the ground.

"Oh. Okay. Sure, yeah, no problem. You guys have a great night."

"Whatever. Gimme a call later, Howard."

And with that Pete walked off, not bothering to say goodbye.

"What was all that about?" Vince asked, his big blue eyes a little confused.

"Aw, don't worry little man. Pete's just a little shy. Takes him a while to open up."

Shy. Right.

So this was why Vince wasn't particularly happy at the idea of Pete coming to stay with him and Howard in Dalston.

"A while? How long is a while, Howard?"

"Well you know. However long he wants to really. I mean, there is enough space, and you guys seemed to get on great last time you met." Was Howard crazy? Get on great?

"Howard, he barely spoke to me, and when he did he got my name wrong."

"Yeah, you see the thing about Pete is he's just a little..."

"...shy. Right."

"It'll be great, little man. You'll see."

And so Vince decided he'd make an effort. He really would. After all, he knew Pete was important to Howard. They'd been practically next-door-neighbours in Leeds. Although Pete seemed very, very different to Howard. He had no interest whatsoever in jazz, preferring RnB and HipHop. His head was shaven, and in one ear he had a large diamond earring. He was what might commonly be referred to as a 'geezer'. And Vince had got the definite impression that Pete really, really didn't like him. He couldn't understand why. Everyone liked him. He was the sunshine kid. Oh well. He'd put his personal feelings aside. Pete was important to Howard, therefore he was important to Vince as well.

Howard would probably never know how much Vince adored him. Although he dressed like a blind hermit, and wouldn't know style if it hit him round the face with the latest copy of Cheekbone, he was the brightest thing in Vince's life. Just the sight of him was enough to bring a happy smile to Vince's perfect features. And not a mocking smile either. Howard had always been there for him. And if being there for Howard in return meant welcoming Pete with open arms, well, then Vince would gladly do it.

Boy was he going to regret it.

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"Howard, just chill out! The flat looks fine!" Howard turned around and glared at Vince with something almost akin to hatred in his eyes.

"No, actually, Vince. It does not look fine. It looks so far from fine it's not even funny. The washing up isn't done, the carpet needs hoovering, the bathroom's a state, thanks to you and your beauty products..." Howard clamped a hand to his brown curls in total frustration. Vince sat, perched on the end of his bed, slim legs clad in pale grey skinnies drawn up to his chin, his eyes slightly darkened with confusion and hurt.

"But, Howard, I cleaned the bathroom last week. I did!"

"Yes Vince, but it's dirty again now, and it's me who's got to clear it up. It's alright for you, never bothering to lift a finger around here apart from when it suits you. Pete's arriving in literally minutes and you're not doing anything to help." Vince was hurt and upset, however he felt a small flame of anger rise up inside him.

"Actually Howard, I dusted this morning, I took the bins out..." Howard almost screamed in frustration.

"Oh yes, right, Vince! And where exactly did you put this binbag? Out in the wrong place again? You know the problem we had with urban foxes... this is just totally like you, ignoring everything I say..." Vince was furious, but he somehow managed to keep his volatile temper in check, realising that Howard was probably just anxious because his friend was arriving soon.

"No, actually I put in the DRA. You know? The Designated Refuse Area. I know I'm not as clever as you, Howard, but I do listen to what you say sometimes. I'm not a complete idiot."

"Could have fooled me."

Howard's three words came sharp as a whipcrack through the air. He couldn't believe he'd said them. That was way out of order, and he knew it. What was a million times worse was seeing the look on Vince's face. Howard knew he had been overdoing it a little about the cleaning, yet Vince had held onto his temper, and for that Howard was grateful. It wouldn't do for two of them to get worked up about Pete's arrival. The look on Vince's face now was just total... defeat. Almost, acceptance? Acceptance of what? With a horribly unpleasant twist in his gut, Howard realised that he had single-handedly knocked all the life out of Vince's features. His gorgeous big blue eyes were dull, as they stared at the floor.

Vince summoned up all his strength. He would not cry. So what that Howard had just ripped out his heart and trampled on it with all his might? Vince had made a really big effort to clean the flat ready for Pete's arrival, but God knows why. The guy made Vince uncomfortable, very uncomfortable. Vince was really proud of his efforts with the cleaning, and he'd felt happy doing it, knowing he was doing something to help out Howard. And now Howard had just thrown it all back into his face. Something inside of Vince twisted and broke, just slightly. A prickling at the back of his eyes warned him in advance, and he quickly pasted a large smile on his face. Casually he fluffed his jet-black, silken hair out of his eyes and turned away from Howard with a sigh. With a very convincing air of nonchalance Vince sauntered out of the bedroom with a muttered,

"Whatever Howard." As soon as he got to the bathroom he locked the door, and sank down to the cold, tiled floor, head in his hands.