Work Text:
“But Noel…”
”Tomorrow afternoon. No excuses, I expect to see you there.”
Noel curls a tangle of hair around his finger, listening to the steady breathing from the other end of the line. He can’t quite believe it’s been two years. Two years since he and Julian worked on something together.
It scares him, how seconds sometimes seem to drag on like hours, and how, other times, months fly by in an instant. It’s like yesterday that he last sat down opposite of Julian in his kitchen, burnt his tongue on tea and spilled some of it on the words and ideas piled up between them on the table, written on multi-coloured papers with permanent markers, anything to make them seem more concrete, dragging the world of the Boosh to the real world through pages and pages of text and sketches. And still, when Julian finally hangs up on him, without saying another word, it feels like it has been forever since all those late nights filled with random movies and booze, laughter and a feeling of deep connection.
Noel sighs and crams his phone back to the pocket of his jeans. He looks up at the ceiling for a few moments, looking for patterns, feeling oddly empty.
Lliana dances in the room after a while, sporting shoes with enormous heels even for her standards, and he laughs with her until he feels better. When he looks at the mirror that night before lying down to sleep, he sees his face crumbling off, thanks to all the coloured face-paint he’s been using lately, and grimaces at his reflection.
*
The next day Noel pointedly does not think about Julian. He doesn’t even think about not thinking about him.
Except that he does, screwing up more takes than usual, feeling inexplicably nervous and too tight in his skin. At one point a crew member brings him tea with a sympathetic smile and a few words about how Noel must have had an awesome time last night to have shown up to work in such a hangover. Noel flinches, thanking her and avoiding Dave’s slightly worried gaze.
They wouldn’t understand.
*
He’s sitting with headphones on, watching with real concentration one of the scenes they’d just shot. He likes it, he thinks. It’s good.
A warm hand squeezes his shoulder and he jumps, throwing the headphones on the table. He turns around and sees Julian, a hint of smile on his face, his hair all over the place as usual.
“They almost didn’t let me in,” Julian says lowly, but the corner of his eye twitches and Noel knows he’s kidding. He doesn’t have to point it out, because Julian is already aware Noel knows. “Such a fucking diva, now, aren’t you?” His voice is soft and finally, as he drops his hand from Noel’s shoulder back to his side, his face spreads into a full-blown smile.
Noel stands up and wraps his arms around his friend, buries his face in his throat and breathes him in. It takes a couple of seconds for Julian to hug him back, and it stings a bit because it used to be like a reflex for him, touching Noel back when he touched Julian. It’s still a good hug, though, and Noel lets it linger several moments longer than necessary.
“You came,” he says softly, standing on his toes so that the ends of Julian’s hair tickle his lips as he speaks.
“You didn’t leave me much choice,” Julian says gently. He’s quiet for a bit and Noel finally starts to detach himself from the older man. “Of course I did. Of course.”
Noel smirks. “Want a tour? I can show you around.”
*
Julian is sitting opposite him. There’s heaps of paper between them on the table, and Julian is sipping his tea carefully while Noel burns the roof of his mouth with the hot liquid. It’s almost like before, and Noel knows they can both sense it. But when Julian picks up a piece of paper, it’s filled with concepts and ideas he doesn’t know about, he’s peeking into a world that isn’t one of his creation, and suddenly it’s nothing like before. It’s not worse, it’s not better; it’s just different.
“So,” Noel starts. “What do you think?”
He tries to sound nonchalant, but he knows his fidgeting is giving him away even before Julian can open his mouth to reply. He sees it from the softening of the other man’s eyes when he looks at Noel, from the way he carefully sets down his tea cup before replying.
“It’s…” He starts slowly, and Noel waits, “a world.” Julian finishes, and picks up his cup again.
Noel grins and feels like a rock has been lifted off of his heart. “I knew you would like it.”
Julian nods, and doesn’t say anything for a while. He worries his bottom lip between his teeth, trying to find words. Noel waits calmly. It is okay now, he already knows he has Julian’s approval, he already knows he hasn’t let one of the most important men in his life down.
“It’s like you,” Julian says finally. “I see you in everything. It’s like your soul has been ripped out and put into all these costumes and ideas, even to the people around you. It’s good, it’s…” Julian smiles down at his cup. “Brilliant. I’m proud of you.”
Noel feels he could combust with joy, his heart swelling with pride and pure delight at Julian’s words. He looks at the other man, seeing so much beauty and talent and memories in his face. Noel stands up excited, knocking over his tea cup in the process, and goes over to Julian to give him another hug. Julian returns it faster this time, clinging on exactly as many moments too long as Noel. It’s good.
It’s nearly like it always was.
*
Later that night they go to a pub. Either no one recognises them or no one cares, because they’re left alone for the whole night. It’s a good night, but as Julian downs more shots and beers, a slight tension appears to his features. Noel rubs his shoulder blades, telling him he should come out with Noel more often, telling him how much he’s missed Julian, expecting for it to help and for Julian to relax. Eventually Noel looks straight into his friend’s eyes and asks him if something is wrong.
“No, it’s nothing,” Julian says in a tone that, to Noel, simply confirms that it’s not nothing.
“What is it?” Noel asks and when he gets no reply, his silly insecurities about Julian and his opinion on Noel’s show start creeping back in to his mind, something unanswered still bugging the most insecure of his thoughts. He puts his hand down on Julian’s thigh, draws letters with his forefinger and sighs silently. “Why didn’t you want to come on the set at first?” Noel asks, and even through the haze of alcohol buzzing in his system he hates how stupid and childish he sounds.
Julian shakes his head. “It’s not like that,” he says, convincingly enough, and looks down at Noel’s hand on his leg.
“Then how is it?” Noel asks, and his voice is small.
“I just.” Julian says. He looks up at the ceiling, drawing in a deep breath. The dim lightning of the pub is throwing shadows on his face. “I miss you,” he says finally and turns to look at Noel, his face painfully honest, his eyes the biggest Noel’s seen them go in a while. “I miss… all of it. You.”
Noel flinches when Julian drops his warm palm on top of his hand still fiddling with the fabric of Julian’s trousers. Julian squeezes lightly. Feeling suddenly slightly lightheaded, Noel stares right into his friend’s brown eyes and gosh, were they really always that brown?
“I’m right here,” Noel says, a bit out of breath. “I’m right here.”
When they lock their lips together, it’s exactly as it was.
And for the first time in a long time, Noel doesn’t feel like he’s losing something to create something else. It’s possible for him to have them both.