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The double playbill is a veritable disgrace. Julian is livid; he doesn't want to be just another brassy, inexperienced slot next to this "Noel Something-or-another" character. He complains to his agent, his sister, anyone who will listen. Lee Mack slaps him upside his head and tells him to take it like a man.
Julian walks onstage, a nervous mass of young nerves, and a pair of enormous blue eyes watches him from backstage. Starkly pale arms like those of an emaciated Greek statue cross themselves over a jumper with a skeleton's erstwhile torso emblazoned on it. The slender stranger grins cheekily and laughs brightly at all of Julian's nervous, sickly jokes.
His name is Noel Fielding, and his hair is a mess of sandy blonde, brown and a cocked-up recent red dye job. "You were brilliant." he whispers to Julian as they pass on the stage left stairs. Julian feels a gloved hand imprint itself on his chest briefly and he almost trips over some wiring.
"No complaints?" Lee asks him over a pint at the comedy club's bar.
"None at all." Julian contemplates slapping him in return.
"Who is this guy?" Lee asks, tilting his head at the stage where Noel is holding the microphone to one eye and running his hand through his hair. Julian licks his lips unconsciously. "Imagine if I did the whole gig like this..." Noel says breathlessly.
---
That night, Julian dreams of Noel as though he has been dreaming of him his whole life.
---
When Lee calls him, tersely shouting "OI, JU! I'VE GOT US A FLATMATE!" Julian is less than thrilled. When he shows up at the dingy, steam-clouded café ten minutes late to meet whoever Lee's dragged in from the gutter, his stomach churns when he sees that delightfully messy head of badly-dyed hair across from Lee in the booth.
"Hi, I'm Noel." He introduces himself, all disarmingly sweet rough accent and somehow charming sharp edges. His fingernails are painted a red so deep it could pass itself off as black unless close attention is paid.
"I'm Julian." Julian is carved from tweed, his fingers stiff and cold in Noel's light, warm grip.
"You were well funny." Noel says, picking up a sugar packet from the graveyard of empties littered around his teacup and pouring its contents into his already drastically modified brew.
"Thanks. Er, you too." Julian quirks a quick half-smile at Noel's bright eyes and diverts his gaze to more interesting ventures, such as the scuffed surface of the café table. He orders a plain cup of tea, no frills, and he can see Noel raise an eyebrow in his periphery. Christ, he's judging me on how I like my tea. Julian panics inwardly. I wonder if he tells fucking fortunes or reads tea leaves or some bollocks like that.
"Noel's new into London and we've been saying for some time that we could use another source of contribution to the rent." Lee runs his finger absentmindedly up and down his spoon.
"It'd be right cheaper than having to rent me own." Noel sucks his pinky finger to rid it of sugar crumbs and Julian can't look away.
"Yeah, so, how about it then?" Lee's eyes are boring into Julian's cheek.
"Yeah, sounds, er, great." Julian's lips twitch into a passing flash of a smile.
"That's settled, then." Lee looks rather pleased with himself. Noel smiles widely and nods; his teeth are small and straight and somehow sweet.
---
Precisely -9 degrees Celsius at two in the morning in the middle of December appears to be Noel Fielding's breaking point, seeing as that is how long it takes him since he had moved in to shuffle into Julian's room wrapped in his comforter and sloshing two cups of tea onto the floor as he moves towards Julian's bed.
"Shove over, I'm fuckin' freezing. I've brought you tea." Noel kicks weakly at Julian's prone form. Julian has no choice but to move over as soon as he realizes Noel is actually in his room in real life and he is not, in fact, asleep. He sits up and shifts over to allow Noel to perch on the edge of his bed. "Thanks, mate." Noel pulls his legs up and crosses them tightly beneath him, pulling the comforter more closely around himself. He hands Julian a cup of tea with milk and sugar. "Oh, fuck me." Noel declares to the room at large after he sips from his own mug. "I've forgotten, you don't like shit in your tea."
"No, no. It's perfect." Julian actually smiles, hidden by his covers, before he raises his head and takes a sugary, diluted, brilliant sip. He silently promises himself that he will never take his tea plain again.
"I know lit'rally nothing about you." Noel says casually, muffled by his blanket.
"There's not really anything to know. I'm not a very interesting bloke." Julian's hands are pressed tightly around his mug, searing heat awakening tingling cold skin.
"Come on, there's got to be some shit about you that I'd want to hear." Noel says, uncrossing his legs and lying down on his side. Julian almost chokes on his tea. Noel is lying in his bed. This is actually happening. "What's your favorite sea creature?" Noel's eyeliner is smudged around his tired eyes.
"Sea cucumbers." Julian deadpans.
"I love Spanish Dancers myself." Noel says, stretching out so that he's lying on his back right next to Julian, taking up the other pillow. "They're so flowy and pretty. They're covered in these magnificent colors. They're like a strange hybrid of a fish and a flower. It's unbelievable."
"They look like fans sometimes." Julian rests his mug's warm base on his stomach, scorching a circle there.
"They do!" Noel laughs, and Julian's hands tighten on the mug. "I can't believe you actually know what they are. No one I talk to ever does."
"I'm quite knowledgeable about sea creatures. No one would ever know by looking at me." Julian is grinning into the dark and Noel veritably giggles.
"I quite like you." Noel says after a moment of amiable, drowsy silence.
"Spill tea in my bed and I will kill you." Julian says, forcing his arm into the cold and out of his blankets in order to place the now-empty mug on his nightstand.
"You like me too, don't you?" Noel says, voice sleep-blurred, his empty mug lolling in his left hand. Julian reaches across him for the mug, and once he's set it safely on the floor on Noel's side of the bed, Noel's deep red nails cling to his arm. Julian's breathing stops. Noel's cold, small fingers tuck Julian's wooden arm around his waist. "Stay." He whispers.
Julian says nothing. He moves closer to Noel in the dark and once Noel is asleep, judging by his soft, delicate breathing, he curls around Noel's back, touching the warm tops of his feet to Noel's cold heels.
---
It is a winter full of two-AM cups of tea. Julian often wakes up out of sheer instinct once he hears Noel's soft footsteps in the hall outside his door.
"I've put cinnamon in it this time." Noel's voice is soft; he is being polite to sleeping Lee. He closes the door behind him and swings his legs up onto the now-unused-but-for-Noel side of Julian's bed.
"I've never had tea with cinnamon." Julian is sitting up; his bedside lamp casts deep shadows and honey-colored light over them both. Noel hands Julian his customary BBC mug and drinks deeply out of the "#1 Auntie" one himself.
"It will blow your mind." Noel licks his lips after he swallows. Julian inhales the frankly delicious-smelling steam before testing the tea with a shallow sip. He sighs contentedly and drinks more. "You like it, brilliant." Noel grins.
"Of course I do. You make an amazing cup of tea."
"You're sweet. I bet people don't know that about you," Noel rests his leg on top of Julian's, his woolen-sock-clad toes curling into the arch of Julian's right foot. "But you are one of the sweetest men I've ever met. You're pretty much a teddy bear made of corduroy."
"Thank you?"
"Of course I mean it as a compliment, you berk." Noel's forehead bumps Julian's shoulder admonishingly. "I want to call you Ju. I've pretty much wanted to since we met. Can I?"
Julian is thrown by Noel's bluntness, as he always is, but nods into his mug.
"Hey, Ju?" Noel's fingers, chipped blue nail polish glossy in the light, rest on Julian's thigh.
"Yeah?" Julian's voice is gruff.
"Nothing, I just wanted to try it out. I quite like the sound of it." Noel makes a silly face and cocks his head to the side.
"You nonce."
"You're a jazzy freak."
"Mod wolf."
"...Oh, fuck me, I've run out. It's this tea. It makes me well sleepy." Noel's head is tilted to the side, leaning on Julian's shoulder.
"Spill tea in my bed and I'll-"
"Yeah, yeah, I know. Kill me." Noel's pale arm rests the cup on top of a stack of Julian's books.
It is completely wordless but utterly understandable. Julian raises his arm, making nervous eye contact with Noel, and Noel bites his lip and ducks under it to rest his head on Julian's chest. Julian pulls the blankets over them both as Noel turns onto his side and slings an arm over Julian's stomach.
"Told you you're a fuckin' teddy bear." Noel's words are slurred after a moment, his cheek pressed hot to Julian's chest. Julian closes his eyes and lets out a shaky breath, trying not to let his arms tighten around Noel.
---
On February 12th, Julian has dreamed of Noel so many times and with such clarity that he could swear he's been dreaming of him for all 29 of his conscious years of memory.
Tonight it's Julian who makes the tea. He brings Noel a cup at midnight, waking him up in a messy-haired tussle.
"Oi, wha' are you doing? I make the tea 'round here!" Noel whispers indignantly, rubbing sleep and eyeliner from his eyes.
"I thought tonight we could do something different." Julian's voice is low and sweet.
Noel looks at him, eyes crystalline blue, rocks back and forth slightly as though unsure of some fundamental knowledge, and lurches forward suddenly, crushing his tea-sweetened lips to Julian's.
Julian's heartbeat is sing-songing in his brain; he can feel his blush radiate outward. He opens his mouth against Noel's, two frightened, timid puzzle pieces in the slow show of dim light, finding their perfect fit.