#booshlr asks

23. Vince’s idea of a perfect day? 

Well of course, Vince’s perfect day would start with a lie in. He is quite literally made of energy but sometimes it takes him a little while to find the on switch in among all the other chaos in his brain. So he will lie there for a little while, content to stare at the ceiling until he has wound himself up enough to face the day. When he does get up though, he is a whirlwind of noise and colour. He has got getting ready down to an absolute science. He will sing a tune (or five) while he showers, and continue singing as he meticulously dries and straightens his hair. That will be downgraded to a hum while he does his makeup for the day and sets about selecting his outfit. He will try at least five combinations before he ends up settling on the first one, his gut instinct when it came to fashion was rarely wrong.  

Then it’s down to the shop (breakfast will be snatched during his transformation process if Howard has left it out for him - Nutella on toast) for the day. Contrary to popular belief, Vince actually really enjoys working in the little shop with Howard, and that’s exactly where he’d like to spend his perfect day. He’d think of the perfect excuse for his lateness as he skips down the stairs, on a good day he can make Howard chuckle so hard that he has to cover his face with his hand. Ideally, there will be exactly two customers, on this perfect day, two Camden types that strut in arm in arm and give Vince the perfect opportunity to demonstrate his charm. He’ll flirt and charm and eventually make a pretty big sale that will keep Naboo happy. Howard will huff about it, but there’ll be this look in his eye, reluctant admiration (he’ll preen in the praise even if it is slightly reluctant) and Vince will playfully boast for the rest of the day. With no more customers to speak of, Howard will tell him to do inventory, and Vince will spend this time just rearranging things about the shop into a more aesthetically pleasing look than actually counting anything. Howard will know he is doing this, but will not stop him. 

At 5, they’ll shut up shop and Howard will ask him what he wants for Dinner; they will bicker about Vince’s limited palette and how sugar definitely isn’t one of your five a day. Howard will cook for them, while Vince hovers like an over attached child and makes an (in his opinion) hilarious commentary to go along with it. As much as Howard grumbles about it, Vince is fairly sure he really enjoys the whole process. They eat together, subsequently fall into another back and forth about who has to do the washing up which Vince escapes by scampering off to their room to complete another outfit change. 

It’s no secret Vince loves going out. But what he loves even more is when he manages to talk Howard into coming with him. So on his perfect day, which will almost certainly be a Saturday, he will needle away at his friend until he reluctantly agrees to accompany him (”Just for a few hours, yeah?”) and they will venture from the flat at 8pm and meetup with Leroy. Vince will get his fill of dancing, and Howard will keep himself happy secluded by the par with a pint (or three) of Guinness. By 10, he will be getting antsy, so Vince will drag him home with an over exaggerated pout. He won’t really be all that bothered about going home early, but if he whines just so then Howard will feel guilty enough to make them both a cup of tea, pop the telly on, and allow them to be draped under the throw from the back of the sofa. In achieving this, Vince will play up just how drunk he is and lean his weight against Howard’s side. If this is allowed, if he isn’t shrugged off, then Vince will sag there - unmovable - and Howard, assuming Vince is tipsy (and therefore not responsible for his actions) will carefully slide an arm over his shoulder and let it rest there. Vince will end his perfect day, falling asleep with a grin on his face, being cuddled by Howard. 

24. Howard’s idea of a perfect day? 

Howard loves working in the shop, he really does. But his perfect day would almost certainly be on a Sunday, a day when the shutters stay down and there’s nothing at all that he has to do except relax. His alarm will still go off at 7am, like it does any other day of the week, and he will still force himself from his bed. Howard is a lot like Vince, in that he’s not at all a morning person. He struggles to get his energy going at the best of times, but especially so in the morning. The only difference is that he tries to jump start himself forcefully like a broken down car; thinks if he forces himself into action then he will get going no problem. There will be a quick and efficient shower that helps, and he will let his hair dry naturally as he potters about in the kitchen in his robe making his first tea of the day and his breakfast. 

After eating and drinking a second cup of tea, Howard finally gets dressed. He has to tiptoe around their bedroom on account of Vince still being asleep and having hearing like a bloody jungle cat (he’s a bit of a light sleeper is Vince, probably thanks to growing up in the way he did). Then it’s time for a jazz trance. Howard never times his jazz trances, but he must spend at least an hour like that on his good days - there’s something incredibly nice about letting the music wash over you and lead you into the day. A subconscious melodic trip to really get your juices flowing. And when he comes out of it naturally (without Vince slapping him one) then it’s the most refreshing experience he’s aver known. He will start making Vince’s breakfast after that - more alert now - as ironically, on the only day of the week they don’t open the shop Vince doesn’t sleep as late as he does any other day. He will normally emerge around 11, sleep rumpled and soft, seeking out the food he can smell like a hunting dog. They’ll chat, probably about where Vince was the night previous, and the other man will sound the most south London he ever will - consonants dropping out of words wherever they please. Vince will leave to begin his transformation and Howard will spend the next few hours just relaxing. Reading his paper and watching a caterpillar become a butterfly as his flatmate darts from bedroom to bathroom and back again; he is completely safe in the knowledge he has nothing at all to be doing. 

At 1pm, Vince emerges fully dressed and Howard knows this is the point where he has to find something for them to do because Vince has an eternal source of energy that refuses to be copped up all day. On a perfect day, it will be sunny, and Howard will urge them out of the door for a trip to Hampstead Heath. Vince will natter with the squirrels while Howard appreciates the serene nature of taking a stroll in the sun. They’ll feed the ducks just so Howard can watch Vince coo over them (he knows how much his friend misses being able to talk to animals whenever he pleases). They will bicker, mostly about Vince’s outlandish outfit and how Howard finds it distasteful when other park-goers walk too close to him. On the way home Vince will suggest ice creams, which Howard will pay for, and they will crimp their little hearts out about the melting creamy substance. 

It will be evening by the time they fall over each other into the flat, giggling like schoolboys and flushed from the sun. Howard won’t want to cook; they’ll order something in and share whatever comes while a film plays in the background. Vince, sleepy from their days adventure, will start to drift off on the sofa beside him; insisting every few minutes that he is definitely still awake and definitely still watching the film. 

He’ll fall asleep against Howard’s side and Howard’s perfect day (which to be honest mostly consists of making Vince as happy as he can possibly make him) will end with Howard throwing his arm over Vince’s shoulder and basking in a secret cuddle without the weight of having to talk about it.