tour life
- short little noel imagine where you're on tour with the mighty boosh troupe
- wordcount: 700
Tour life… not your most favourite way of living. Of course there were advantages, to be sure; relishing in that free-willed rockstar life that so many aspired to have, touring Britain with a man you knew so many women fancied, and having the satisfaction of knowing that his heart was yours - the glares of sheer jealousy sent your way as you entered the public on Noel Fielding’s arm kept you smug. Meeting new people and travelling was great too.
But the aspect of being cramped up in a tour bus with five guys for hours on end was at times, frustrating, to say the least. Especially when one of those guys happened to be Rich Fulcher - you loved the idiot, and his peculiar take on British comedy; an American trying to fit in with a bunch of geezers - but he wasn’t very good at being quiet. And he seemed to get off on pissing off Noel, which then had repercussions on you - being the one whom he came whining to when Rich “accidentally” wrote ‘I love your mom’s nuts’ all over his sketchbook, or put cheese and onion crisps in his boots.
You recalled just last Tuesday, in Brixton, packing up after the show when the latter situation occurred.
“Christ almighty! Someone’s gone and pored a packet of crisps in my boots. Fucking hell!… I bet this was Fulcher. I’m gonna fucking kill ‘im.”
They were all like siblings, honestly (well, besides the fact that Noel and Mike were siblings…), and there was never a dull moment with the Mighty Boosh troupe.
It just got a litttttllllleee much being with them all 24/7 cramped together in a small bus.
Fortunately, the boys had scored a lovely place off the coast of Brighton, where you were to spend the mid-week slump - it was Monday when you arrived, and the Brighton show wasn’t until Friday, so there were a few days respite from the cramped, testosterone-inhabited tourbus.
"Annnnd, here we go." Julian pulled up to the house and wrenched on the handbrake. "Quite magnificent if I say so."
"Its bloody huge, mate!" Dave, who was seated in the front adjacent to Julian, removed his sunglasses to get a better look.
"Yeah, it's pretty neat," piped up Rich. "Looks like the estate my grandma used to live in before she got abducted by an army of gorillas."
You were currently curled up beside Noel, sharing a seat. Your head was on his shoulder, his arm around your waist as he spoke. "Dave's right, it's massive. You sure we can afford this Ju?"
"I mean it looked smaller in the pictures, but yeah, she's within our budget."
Slowly, the six of you began to unload the bus, tired, bodies still recovering from the weekend. Yes. A few days of quiet in a big, roomy house would do you good.
You and Noel landed a beautiful little room on the second floor, with an ensuite, and a window onlooking the sea. Julian took the bedroom beside yours.
"Y/n, Ju doesn't have a loo in his room so I've said he can use ours instead of having to go downstairs," Noel told you. "So what I'm getting at is don't go wandering 'round with your tits out."
"Oh okay, no tits for anyone, I get it." You wrapped your jumper tight around your chest.
"That's not what I said." He ran a hand through his hair
"Too late now Mr Fielding. No tits for you."
Noel skulked up to you and wrapped his arms tightly around your waist. He placed a heated kiss upon your lips, his nose lingering against yours, his breath hot on your face.
"Hmm, well, I may have to make an exception for you." You twirled a lock of his raven hair around your finger. His lips curled into a smirk as he kissed you once more, a stray hand snaking up your torso.
You instantly pulled apart, as Julian let himself in.
"We're having coffee downstairs if you two lovebirds wanna join us?"
"Yeah, we'll be down in a minute, Ju." Noel answered. "Oh, and can you ask Mike to put condensed milk in mine, please? Cheers."
He gave you a quick peck on the cheek, whispering in your ear - "to be continued..." - before taking your hand and leading you downstairs.
