Foxy, Chapter 1

Dave looked up from his cold cup of coffee as he heard the front door open, then slam shut again. He sighed in relief; Noel was late tonight.

Getting up from the stool he was perched on, he followed Noel into the living room, and looked over him to check he was alright. He then paused in the doorway to watch him. There seemed to be something slightly different tonight. Usually he would laugh to himself as he listened to Noel's mostly unintelligible alcohol-induced ramblings, but tonight they were somehow different.

He watched, but stayed tense, just in case.. well, he wasn't sure why. There was something different about his walk, too. It wasn't the usual drunken stumbling; it was smoother, with more gentle, gliding steps. Dave frowned as he listened to the usually incomprehensible half-sentences; the whispered words he could make out weren't the sort of things Noel would normally say.

"Look. Look. Look at it. Look at the little foxy. Look at foxy."

He was at the window, staring out and tapping a changing, uneven rhythm on the windowsill.

"Foxy, foxy, foxy, foxy. Isn't foxy cute..."

The tapping stopped and Noel stiffened, his voice growing louder as he gripped the sill and rocked himself backwards and forwards.

"No. No, not cute. Not cute at all. Don't like it. It's bad. Bad foxy, bad. Badbadbad..."

He lurched and spun around suddenly, crouching down and fingering the carpet delicately, his voice gentle again.

"Aw, foxy. I love you, little foxy. I love it. It's fun. Fun foxy, foxy fun."

He sprung up and into the middle of the room, his voice low and childlike, "Let's play a game with foxy."

For a moment he stood still, eyes bright and staring, before turning and pacing up and down quickly. Three steps left. Turn. Three steps right. Turn.

"Foxy wants to play a game."

He started to wring his hands tightly.

"Foxy wants to play a game."

His hands flew apart, and he flapped them agitatedly. Dave's frown deepened and he made a move to step in. Definitely not normal drunk Noel.

"Foxy wants to play a game..."

Noel turned again, faster this time, then seemed to just collapse in on himself. Dave rushed in as he fell to the floor, his mind whirling with thoughts of Noel hitting his head on the coffee table and passing out, or...

"Shit, Noel!"

He helped Noel sit up and held either side of his face, staring into unblinking eyes that seemed to look right through him. As he looked, Dave noticed that the bright blue eyes were missing something important, something so very Noel that Dave had fallen in love with all those years ago - and it shocked him.

"Games aren't fun. No-one likes games. Foxy isn't fun. Isn't. Isn't. Is not. Is not, is not, is not. Not, not, not..."

He carried on muttering "Notnotnot," as Dave carefully lifted his limp frame and carried him into their bedroom. Stripping both himself and Noel down to their pants, he laid down with the pale form, and hugged him close to his chest. He held Noel tight under the comfort of their old paint splattered duvet, as if the smaller man might suddenly leap away from him.

"Come on Noel, snap out of it. What have you been up to, eh?" He whispered into the messy auburn mop. Noel's muttering stopped, and he seemed to relax, his tense jaw muscles visibly unclenching and his warm body melting to the shape of Dave's.

"Ok now?" Dave murmured, soothingly.

Noel sighed, and Dave felt his breathing even out at last. He pushed the worries about his boyfriend to the back of his mind and concentrated on getting some sleep.


A/N: Comments and reviews much wanted please. Will update soon.