alatariel3
in
__vam
Killing Loneliness
Erm...*waves* hi, remember me? I'm the annoying one who apparently can't manage to update regularly. Sorry about that, by the way.
Anyway, here's more fic in case anyone actually cares, or am I just boring everyone?
parts 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, and 10
Bam shivered. He was cold, why was his room so fucking cold? He knew without even opening his eyes that he had a killer hangover so he just pulled a pillow onto his head and reached out groggily, searching for Jenn. Maybe if she was still in bed he could get a cuddle and some warmth.
Bam was startled when his hand met only open air. He was lying on the wrong side of the bed. Sleepily he rolled over and searched the bed in that direction but no luck. No one was there with him and he was still fucking cold. Deciding that he wouldn’t be able to continue to sleep if he didn’t do something about the temperature Bam pulled the pillow off his head and opened his eyes, expecting his dark bedroom but instead he was greeted with a bright strange hotel room. Bam winced, closing his eyes. Bright lights weren’t a good idea; his head was pounding already.
Bam tried to remember why he was in a hotel room. HIM concert, getting drunk, stumbling around the town with Ville; oh yeah…Ville. The room was silent, no one else was there and Bam had to fight his emotions because otherwise he would just lie back down and bawl like a baby. Why was he so stupid? Why didn’t he think! He had known that sleeping with Ville, again, was going to cause problems but he hadn’t paid attention and here he was yet again, alone, yet again, on the morning after.
Bam got up, shivering still, and grabbed his clothes off the floor, retreating to the bathroom where it was a little warmer to dress. He smiled a little when he saw a note from Ville written on the mirror in eyeliner.
Hyvää huomenta Bammie,
I had a nice time last night.
Pikaisiin näkemiin.
-Ville Hermanni Valo
P.S. You’re adorable when you’re sleeping.
Bam pulled on his clothes quickly and copied the note onto a piece of paper, intending to translate the Finnish later. He checked his cell phone, noting 4 missed calls, all from Ape, but he didn’t bother to call her back. If she still needed him she would call again, otherwise he would talk to her when he got home.
Bam realised abruptly that he didn’t know how he was supposed to get home. He was certain that Ape and Phil had already gone home so he had no ride.
Bam left the hotel, trying to figure out where he was. The hotel was a step up from what he usually stayed in, but that was mostly because there was no point in staying in a classy place when it was just going to get destroyed. Bam didn’t figure that Ville had that sort of problem. The band seemed like the type of people who would rather spend their evenings playing chess and reading or out at a bar, drinking, than doing idiotic stunts and getting themselves hurt.
Bam knew his mind was wandering but he was glad. He didn’t want to focus on one subject because he knew what that subject would have to be. Ville.
Bam sat down on the sidewalk, he was tired and hungry and he mostly just wanted to be home. He jumped when his mobile rang, realising as he answered that his nerves were shot to hell.
“Hello?” He answered without checking the I.D.
“Yo, Bam-Bam!” Raab replied. There was loud music in the background that suddenly quieted.
“Hey, Raab,” Bam answered wearily. “What’s up?”
“Dude, what happened to you last night?” Raab asked. “You just disappeared and no one could find you.”
Bam rubbed his temple, his headache not being soothed by Raab’s voice. “I got drunk,” he said. It was a safe answer, and one that Raab would not question.
“Oh, well, whatever. Are you ready to go home Bam-Bam?”
The music was back, blaring loud and accompanied by what sounded like heavy traffic and someone else talking.
“Yeah.” Bam named the hotel he was outside of and hung up, waiting for his ride. Fifteen minutes later Raab’s car was parked at the curb with Dunn driving. Bam climbed in the backseat, ignored all the questions, turned the radio off, and fell asleep, his head still pounding.
A/N: and, to continue with tradition, a photo ; p
Anyway, here's more fic in case anyone actually cares, or am I just boring everyone?
parts 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, and 10
Bam shivered. He was cold, why was his room so fucking cold? He knew without even opening his eyes that he had a killer hangover so he just pulled a pillow onto his head and reached out groggily, searching for Jenn. Maybe if she was still in bed he could get a cuddle and some warmth.
Bam was startled when his hand met only open air. He was lying on the wrong side of the bed. Sleepily he rolled over and searched the bed in that direction but no luck. No one was there with him and he was still fucking cold. Deciding that he wouldn’t be able to continue to sleep if he didn’t do something about the temperature Bam pulled the pillow off his head and opened his eyes, expecting his dark bedroom but instead he was greeted with a bright strange hotel room. Bam winced, closing his eyes. Bright lights weren’t a good idea; his head was pounding already.
Bam tried to remember why he was in a hotel room. HIM concert, getting drunk, stumbling around the town with Ville; oh yeah…Ville. The room was silent, no one else was there and Bam had to fight his emotions because otherwise he would just lie back down and bawl like a baby. Why was he so stupid? Why didn’t he think! He had known that sleeping with Ville, again, was going to cause problems but he hadn’t paid attention and here he was yet again, alone, yet again, on the morning after.
Bam got up, shivering still, and grabbed his clothes off the floor, retreating to the bathroom where it was a little warmer to dress. He smiled a little when he saw a note from Ville written on the mirror in eyeliner.
Hyvää huomenta Bammie,
I had a nice time last night.
Pikaisiin näkemiin.
-Ville Hermanni Valo
P.S. You’re adorable when you’re sleeping.
Bam pulled on his clothes quickly and copied the note onto a piece of paper, intending to translate the Finnish later. He checked his cell phone, noting 4 missed calls, all from Ape, but he didn’t bother to call her back. If she still needed him she would call again, otherwise he would talk to her when he got home.
Bam realised abruptly that he didn’t know how he was supposed to get home. He was certain that Ape and Phil had already gone home so he had no ride.
Bam left the hotel, trying to figure out where he was. The hotel was a step up from what he usually stayed in, but that was mostly because there was no point in staying in a classy place when it was just going to get destroyed. Bam didn’t figure that Ville had that sort of problem. The band seemed like the type of people who would rather spend their evenings playing chess and reading or out at a bar, drinking, than doing idiotic stunts and getting themselves hurt.
Bam knew his mind was wandering but he was glad. He didn’t want to focus on one subject because he knew what that subject would have to be. Ville.
Bam sat down on the sidewalk, he was tired and hungry and he mostly just wanted to be home. He jumped when his mobile rang, realising as he answered that his nerves were shot to hell.
“Hello?” He answered without checking the I.D.
“Yo, Bam-Bam!” Raab replied. There was loud music in the background that suddenly quieted.
“Hey, Raab,” Bam answered wearily. “What’s up?”
“Dude, what happened to you last night?” Raab asked. “You just disappeared and no one could find you.”
Bam rubbed his temple, his headache not being soothed by Raab’s voice. “I got drunk,” he said. It was a safe answer, and one that Raab would not question.
“Oh, well, whatever. Are you ready to go home Bam-Bam?”
The music was back, blaring loud and accompanied by what sounded like heavy traffic and someone else talking.
“Yeah.” Bam named the hotel he was outside of and hung up, waiting for his ride. Fifteen minutes later Raab’s car was parked at the curb with Dunn driving. Bam climbed in the backseat, ignored all the questions, turned the radio off, and fell asleep, his head still pounding.
A/N: and, to continue with tradition, a photo ; p
