carleybabes
in
__vam
Story-Nidiots!
Sorry, I just got around to this now cause I was at work, then listening to radio Bam and then bumming about Novak :(. But nonetheless I am here, posting two more chapters. Thanks again from us (me-n-Jess) for all the comments; keep them coming!
Title: Nidiots
Rating: PG-13 to NC-17
Genre: Comedy and smut.
Disclaimer: We own nothing but the insanity of the storyline. Period.
Summary: The drunken adventures of Bam and Ville.
Notes: I (Carley) played Bam. Bam's POV was written by me. Ville's POV was written by my friend Jess. Now you know who to blame for what, ok?
Chapters 1 and 2
Chapters 3, 4 and 5
Chapter 6-Dude, Where's My Car?
~*~Bam~*~
"Fuck," I muttered as I slammed the refrigerator door in disgust. That fucking Raab Himself must have gotten into my beer supply again. Between him and Heroin Ass Novak, I've got to start locking that shit up. Seriously.
"What's wrong?" Ville asked, coming up behind me. I didn't say anything, only opened the door to the fridge so he could see just how much beer we didn't have and he groaned. "Bammie, make your idiot friends stop drinking my beer," he pouted, sticking his lip out even further than usual to get his point across.
"First of all, it's my beer shithead," I said to him as I headed towards the steps, "And second of all, this could be a good thing."
"How is it your beer?" Ville asked, following me upstairs to my room. "And how is no beer ever a good thing?"
"It's my beer cause I bought it," I said pointedly.
Ville cocked his head to the side as if he was thinking about it, then nodded and said, "Yea, you have a point. But still, what's yours is mine and vice versa."
I snorted as I dug around for a pair of pants. "Says who?"
Ville came closer and tugged at the waistband of my boxers. "These are my boxers, love."
I looked down and saw he was right. Whoops. I looked back up at him and grinned. Really, I had nothing to say to that, so I just shrugged and muttered, "Whatever." I shoved him-in a very loving way-towards the huge pile of clothes on the floor he calls his dresser and said, "Get dressed." he looked at me questioningly and I nodded. "The good thing about no beer, Willa Walo, is that it means we get to go on a beer run."
Ville looked at me like I was crazy, mostly cause he never understood why I was so into beer runs. Hell, I don't even understand why I'm so into beer runs. Maybe it's just the anticipation of what's to come-blinding drunkenness and complete insanity-that gets me going. I don't know.
Anyway, ten minutes later, after another successful run with shoving Ville into his pants, we were on our way out the door. The sunlight hit my eyes and I winced and grabbed Ville's arm. "Dude, how the fuck long have we been inside?" I muttered, trying to remember the last time I saw daylight.
Ville chuckled and kissed my cheek. "Time really flies when you're totally wasted, eh?" he drawled, leaning into me a bit.
I giggled and pulled him along to my car. Or, rather, the spot where my car should have been. I stopped short when I realized my Hummer was missing. And it wasn't like I just didn't see it. I mean, come on-it's the Hummer. You don't not see the Hummer! "Dude," I muttered, letting go of Ville's arm and taking a quick glance around. "Where's my car?"
"Where's your car, dude?" Ville repeated a second later, in as much shock that the thing was missing as I was.
"Dude, where's my car?" I repeated a little bit louder, gritting my teeth.
"Where's your car dude?" Ville repeated beside me. A second later, he started giggling and I glared at him angrily. Now was not the time for giggles! "Dude, where's my car?" I screamed, my fists balled up in rage.
"I dunno...where's your car, dude?" he said before dissolving into a complete giggle fit. I gave him the meanest, angriest glare I could and he rolled his eyes. "Bammie, it's a movie! Remember?"
I shook my head. "I don't fucking care, dude, my fucking car is gone!"
Ville, sweet little one tracked mind Ville-was still on that fucking movie though. "What's my tattoo say? Sweet! What's mine say? Dude!" he burst into full blown laughter, clutching his sides and hunching over.
I groaned. I was so getting rid of HBO now. Ville + bad American movies=Bad Ville quoting Bad American movies. It gets old, I must say. "Ville, focus! My car, where is it?"
He stopped laughing long enough to look around and shrug before starting to laugh hysterically again. "What is so fucking funny now?" I seethed, crossing my hands over my chest.
"How...*giggle*...do you...*giggle*..manage to lose...*giggle*...your car at...*giggle*...at your own house?" Ville somehow or another managed to get all that out between fits of laughter. I was seriously starting to worry he was going to have another asthma attack soon if he didn't quit.
"That doesn't matter right now! What matters is that my car's gone!" I said, poking him in the side to get him to listen to me.
He stopped laughing, still trying to catch his breath, and shrugged. "It's around here somewhere, Bammie. We'll sort it out later," he grabbed my hand as he said this and pulled me to the garage. "You have three cars anyway, so we'll just take one of the other ones."
Oh yeah. I forgot about my other cars. Sometimes I really am a dumbass. As we walked to the garage, Ville started giggling again and I let out a frustrated growl. "Dude, what?!?"
"Dude, where's my car?" he said and shook his head as he giggled. "What a funny movie!"
Ok, I was never letting Ville watch tv ever again.
~*~Ville~*~
So I was a little punchy. Come on, I just had a bloody good orgasm, a too-short nap, and Bam is just so cute when he's mad. And that candle thing.. No matter what he might say, he was making some intense faces before he woke up. Besides, we had barely slept in at least three days.
Passing out is not the same as sleep. Passing out does not refresh your body or mind. So we were tired, still half drunk, and stupid. As usual. We climbed into the deep purple lambo, with the heartagram decorations.. That car was so bloody sexy.
I was still giggling, a bit breathless. "Let's get tattoos that say 'dude' and 'sweet'."
"No!"
My giggles turned into full blown laughter. "Than let's go harass the lady at the Chinese drive thru. And then!"
"No and then!" Bam yelled at me, unconsciously quoting the movie again and sending me into fresh peals of laughter. He half glared, half grinned. "Seriously, Willa, and I thought you watched too much porn.."
I felt myself pouting before I could help it. "I'm bored of porn. My daddy has let me see enough porn." I lit up two cigarettes, leaning over to place one carefully between Bam's pink lips. "I like comedy now."
Bam rolled his eyes, obviously trying not to laugh when I said 'daddy'. He always makes fun of me for that. But I just cuddled close to him, and soon his hand was stroking my thigh and he forgot about making fun. "You're a nidiot."
The laughter was back. Even when I felt like shit, Bam could always make me laugh. When I wanted to laugh, it was worse. I was giggling and hiccupping, and believe me, hiccupping smoke is painful. "BamBam, be nice. You're the one with nidiot on your ass."
"Only cause you couldn't fit a tatoo in those tight ass pants of yours."
I looked at him for a second before dissolving once again into laughter. "Oh, you know you love it. You always bitch, then later tell me how good my ass looks. So there." I stuck my tongue out, pointing out an irritated semi-truck driver who was honking at us for inching into his lane.
Bam grumbled, but he squeezed my leg a bit, hand sliding a little closer to the inside of my thigh. He gave me a slightly disgruntled look at I pushed his hand closer to my knee.
"You want me to be able to get out of the car?"
He gave me that lovely, evil grin again. "What the fuck do I care? Stay here." Bam leaned over as if to kiss me, only at the last second remembering there were people around and digging in the glovebox instead. I sighed in frustration. "Need anything, babe?"
The Bam version of an apology. "Just a pack of smokes, dearest." I watched him climb out of the low, Italian sports car, shamelessly watching his cute ass as he straightened himself before walking into the store. I smoked slowly, half hanging out the window as I waited for him to return.
Bam smiled at me before starting the car, one of those rare, genuinely sincere, geniuinly sweet smiles that let me know exactly how much he cared for me. The smile that almost made me want to cry from happiness. Fuck. No wonder he calls me a little girl.
He handed me my cigarettes and I took them, shoving them into a shirt pocket. I watched as he slung a case of beer into the the backseat, followed by the twelve pack of Natural Ice, which we call Nasty Ice. If you've never drank it, you won't fully appreciate the name. I could feel my nose wrinkle and eyes squint in disgust. "Fuck, BamBam, why'd you get that shit?"
"It's a decoy." Bam gave me a proud grin, which, not even knowing what the hell he was proud of, I returned. I rested my hand atop his on the gearshift as he continued. "If Raab's gonna be drinking my fucking booze, he's gonna get the cheap shit."
We returned to Castle Bam, and I helped him stuff beer into the fridge. The steady drone of Dunn telling us we were alcoholics reached our ears, but didn't quite sink in. Grabbing two beers each, we headed outside in search of the elusive Hummer. How any can lose a car so enourmous is beyond me, with no license at all, but... Somehow my Bammie managed to do it.
Bam groaned in frustration. "Honest to god, you have no concept of where we like, parked?" He peered around the fields as I shook my head. What, like the thing was hiding? "You really don't remember?"
"No idea, Bam." I slung an arm around his waist. "But.. we are far from the house.. And Shitbirds has left the grass conveniently long.." I leaned towards him, gently probing his ear with my tongue.
"Ew!" Bam caught my hurt look and quickly tried to cover his laughter. "Aw, Willa.. I just mean there's like, ticks and bugs and shit." He glanced around before kissing me deeply. "C'mon. We gotta figure out where my car is first. Then we can play."
I sighed softly, letting him take my hand and tug me along. How the hell could we have lost an entire Hummer? Could we possibly have been that drunk? I started giggling again, the giggles turning into full laughter.
Bam half glared at me. "What the fuck is so funny now?"
"We lost a whole Hummer.." I managed, one hand over my mouth, laughing as I followed him along the perimetre of the property.
"Yeah.. you've lost more than that, Valo." Bam smiled and shook his head. We foung the Hummer behind a large group of trees. I saw one of my shoes hanging over the radio antennae. "What the fuck?"
Silently agreeing with him, I collected my shoe. "So we're out here now.. What do you want to do?"
Chapter 7-Real Men Wear Makeup
~*~Bam~*~
Ok, so it was a really bad idea to stay in the woods. Really bad. I know it was a bad idea cause now I have some kind of full blown cold that's just killing me slowly. I don't even remember what the hell we did in the woods really; and no, it wasn't anything smutty. We were just too damn drunk and dysfunctional for that. I don't even think we moved the Hummer, which sucks cause I forget where we found it again.
All I know is, we stayed out in the woods until it got too cold and dark and then we came inside and drank till we passed out. Sounds like a normal Ville and Bam night, except for that tiny detail where we were in the mother fucking woods for 5 hours. Little fact: woods+pollen+cold=Bam getting full blown allergy attack. And another little known fact: I really need to stop putting everything in my life into a math problem. I hated math in school.
Anyway, I woke up this morning...afternoon...well, whenever the fuck it was I woke up, and immediately realized I couldn't breathe. The fact that I couldn't see through my swollen, puffy eyes came next, followed by the fact that I couldn't talk with my dry, scratchy throat burning like hell. There was dry snot all over my face-which was gross, by the way-and the killer headache I was sporting was definitely not from drinking. Well, ok-maybe it was one part drinking and two parts allergies.
I reached out for Ville, cause I knew I was sick and when I'm sick, I cuddle. That's just me. So imagine my anger when I realized Ville wasn't cuddled up beside me like he usually is when we wake up after passing out. Yea, he likes to cuddle when he's drunk. I like to cuddle when I'm sick. So, sue us. We're still manly men. Well, I am anyway.
"Willaaaaa," I my voice came out hoarse and rough, and the effort I put into shouting Ville's name made me sputter and cough and my chest started constricting and I figured this was it. I was going to die of a coughing attack. Alone. Brilliant. I felt warm hands wrap around me and somebody leaning me forward and rubbing my back. Yea, like that's going to help me when I'm dying. But soon enough the coughing ceased and I leaned into Ville, who seemingly appeared out of nowhere, and looked up so I was staring into his eyes. They are so pretty, his eyes. So big and green and cat like...ok, now I am starting to sound like a girly man.
"You have a cold baby?" he asked in a soothing, motherly tone, wiping sleep from my eyes. I nodded miserably and he smiled and handed me something. Some kind of pills, I don't know. All I know was, I swallowed those suckers so fast. He lay me back down and pulled the covers up around me. "Now, sleep sweetheart and you'll feel better later," he said as he turned to leave the room.
"No, Willa stay!" I cried out in a childish voice. I don't really care if I sounded like a wimp. I was sick as a dog and I wanted somebody to cuddle with and fawn all over me. "I don't wan' go sweepies." Ok, yea that sounded childish. But, still...
Ville sighed a little bit and then crawled into bed next to me, wrapping me in his arms. I snuggled closer so I was practically laying on top of him, my face buried in his chest. "You're such a girl Bammie," Ville said, laughing softly as he stroked my hair.
I sniffled. "Shut up, Willa. It's not like I don't have to put up with this shit from you every fucking night." I pulled myself in a later tighter and let those pills take over and knock me out.
Let me tell you this: people who are doped up on allergy medicine have weird dreams. I really don't remember all the details, but my dreams definitely involved purple dancing pigs and Ville in a cabaret costume, singing showtunes. And you'd think I would have liked that last one, but I really didn't. It was kind of creepy. Anyway, I was woken up when I felt Ville stirring underneath me, obviously trying to get up without waking me. I wanted to pull him down and make him stay with me, but I was in that weird comatose state; you know, the one where you're awake and aware of what's going on around you but you just can't move to react to anything. So I just stayed where I was and listened to him shuffle out of the room.
Finally, after a few minutes of trying I managed to get my eyes to open up and realized that those pills definitely didn't work. I still felt like shit. So, I did what any sensible sick person would do-I leaned over to the nightstand and grabbed the pill bottle and popped two more. Then I decided to read the back and it dawned on me that the bottle said only take one pill every 6 to 8 hours and I had just taken 4 pills in a matter of 2 hours. Rad.
By the time Ville came back from wherever he disappeared to, I was flying. Seriously, I was feeling no pain whatsoever. "Willywoohoo!" I shouted and reached my arms out to him.
He stopped short and looked at me like I was nuts. "Bammie, you ok?" he asked and I shook my head and giggled.
"I'm so woozy. Everything's really spinning," I slurred. "It makes me wan' go to Hershey Park again. Willa let's go!"
Ville frowned and reached out to feel my forehead. I smiled at him. "You're hands are so warm, like you put them in the oven" I whispered.
"Bammie, have you been drinking?" he asked me and I shook my head no. "What the hell is wrong with you then?"
"Nothing, I feel so goooooooood," I said in a tone that sounded stoned as fuck, even to me.
He must have noticed the pill bottle was open or something because his eyes widened and he screeched, "Did you take more pills?!?" I nodded. "How many?" he asked.
I struggled to concentrate on my fingers, but it was really hard cause they wouldn't stop moving and they were so blurry. "Ummm...this manys?" I said in a question like manner, holding up, like, 6 and a half fingers. Seriously, I was fucked.
"Oh my Lord," he breathed, and then he read the back of the bottle and slammed it down on the counter. He came closer to me and pushed me so I was completely lying flat again and pulled the covers back up around me. "Just sleep it off sweetheart," he whispered in my ear. He kissed my cheek and I beamed up at him.
"I wuv my Willa," I slurred and then frowned in confusion. Wait-there were like, 15 Ville's staring back at me! Damn, when did he get so many twins? "Willy, which one is you?"
That look was back on his face, the one that screams "You're nuts". He looked around the room, at all the Ville's and he was about to say something but I guess he changed his mind, cause he just smiled and said, "I'm the Ville you want Bammie."
"How do I know?" I asked and he laughed a bit before patting my head like I was a big dumb child. Seriously, he needs to stop doing that.
"Cause I just told you so," he said with a wink. I took this in for a moment, cocking my head to the side. "Now, go to bed baby. Pwease, for me?"
I smiled and nodded, and reached out to pull him closer to me. Everything was really spinning now and I was starting to feel drowsy. I definitely wasn't feeling so good about those pills anymore. "When I wake up later I'm gonna take you and all your twins out to drink," I whispered in his ear and he laughed.
"That's alright baby," he said, putting his fingers over my eyes to shut them for me. "Just sleep it off."
"Night Willa," I mumbled sleepily. "Night Ville twins."
And I was out faster than I have ever passed out in my life.
~*~Ville~*~
Oh, lord. I had to run out of the room before I started laughing, so I wouldn't wake my poor darling. I know, I see him drunk all the time, and I've been stoned with him more times than I can count.. But Bam is fucking *funny* when he's doped up. Ville twins? I wasn't sure what the hell he was talking about, but it was entertaining.
I know we were in the woods for a while, being drunken idiots, I would assume. And I have a vague recollection of him deciding he needed to strip down for a jump in the creek. I guess that's where his cold came from. Plus, drinking as much as we do doesn't really do anything for your immune system.
It was getting to be about beer o' clock, but I decided to abstain for at least one night, so I could keep checking on Bam and making sure he was still breathing. The pills I gave him were pretty strong, and with his usual lack of thinking, god only knew how many he had taken. Good thing he's pretty.
I flipped on the tv in his room and started to channel surf. Wayne's World. Perfect, another brilliantly funny, brilliantly bad American movie. I checked on Bam before settling in to watch, knowing damn well he'd be sprawled half atop me well before the movie was through.
This is going to sound mean as hell, but he looked so funny. His pretty blue eyes shut tight, all puffy, this weird, half snore, half gurgle escaping him as he tried to breathe, drooling and snotting.. Bam was lucky I loved him so damn much, or I'd have been seriously grossed out. Instead, I cleaned him up a bit with some tissue, and went back to the movie.
It's a shame he was sick, really. There are just loads of fun things I could do to a passed out Bam. Looking down at him thoughtfully, I paused. Well.. Some of them weren't too bad. And he was sick and drugged. How mad could he possibly get? And if he did get pissed, it's not like he was gonna retaliate anytime soon.
Grabbing supplies, I choked back a giggle and sat cross-legged on the bed next to poor, defenseless, half comatose little Bammie. I started by petting his cheek, wanting to make sure he wouldn't wake from any contact. He just snored louder. Good. I giggled again; he was going to kill me when he came back to reality.
Carefully, I tilted his chin up, holding his sweet face while I gently applied a thick line of black eyeliner to his top lids, making them reach out in a cateye effect. Fuck, that looked sort of sexy. I guess I won't make a fuss next time he tells me I look hot in makeup. I rummaged around in my small bag and found some glitter. Ironically, I think Bam's ex gave it to me shortly before they broke up.
The glitter fell on his closed lids and I brushed some lightly over the very top of his cheekbones. We were going to be waking up covered in glitter forever, but I didn't care. This was too good an opportunity to waste. I decided to go all out, and put a bit of blush on him as well. Since I didn't want my BamBam looking like too much of a hooker, I left the fire engine red lipstick out of it, and went for some barely pink lip gloss instead.
I leaned back to study my handiwork, feeling a huge grin spread across my face. I didn't do a half bad job. And he looked.. well, somewhere in between pretty and a hooker. But that was sort of hot too. Snickering into one hand, I leaned back against the headboard (now clear of any objects that might fall in the throes of passion) and continued to watch my movie.
What would be funnier, pointing Bam towards a mirror and watching his reaction, or letting him wander about oblivious till one of his friends died laughing? I figured letting others see him would defiantly be funnier, but might also end up with me tied down, covered in honey, on top of an anthill. Or something equally horrendous.
Besides, if Bam got caught on film like that, he'd smother me in my sleep. I felt him snuggling up next to me, and wrapped my arms around him. Might as well enjoy it before he started yelling at me.
~*~Bam~*~
I was content. I seriously was, in spite of my cold and the fact that I haven't been drunk in a while. I mean, Ville is just so damn warm and easy to cuddle with. Not like I'd ever tell him that or anything. Anyway, I snuggled in closer to him and felt his arms wrap around me. I wasn't asleep, but I wasn't awake either. I was kind of in this sweet oblivion where I was vaguely aware of my surroundings, but not enough to really take notice of things, you know? Anyway, I was halfway back to sleeping off the most ridiculous over dose of my life when I heard the most retarded thing ever. "Reet! Reet! Reet!"
I groaned and forced my poor, aching eyes open to stare up at Ville, who was totally into this retarded movie. "Willa- Wayne's World?" I croaked, frowning when I realized I still felt like a pile of shit.
"It's funny Bammie," Ville said, pouting at me in the sweetest way. I groaned and rolled over, burying my face in the pillow. I heard him chuckle a bit and I turned over to glare at him. He clamped his mouth shut when I looked at him, but his eyes were still laughing. "I'm sowwy, baby...go to sleep," he said, obviously trying to hold in his giggles.
Why did I get the feeling he was laughing at me? I struggled to pull myself up into a sitting position so I could see him better and just happened to catch a quick glimpse of my face in the mirror on the dresser. Ah, so that's why he was laughing at me. He put fucking makeup on me! "You little shit!" I shouted angrily, jumping out of bed in a hurry. Of course, me being me and clumsy as fuck I wound up getting all tangled up in the sheets and falling into a heap on the floor. As I tried to get myself free of the bedsheets, I wondered in the back of my mind if I would ever be able to do anything without falling down at some point.
Ville was sitting on the bed, clutching his stomach as he laughed hysterically at me. Fine. Laugh it up, little Finnish man. You'll get yours later. Finally, I pulled myself to my feet, arms over my chest, glaring at Ville.
He actually had the decency to look scared. Good. "Bammie," he said, eyes wide, "I swear I only did it cause I wanted to see if you looked good with makeup. And-and you do."
I snorted. "I looked like a crack whore and you know it," I said, crossing the room and standing by the bed. "You just wanted to take advantage of poor, passed out me." I stopped and thought about that for a moment, and then glared at him. "What else did you do to me?"
"Nothing," he said quickly, hands in the air. "I swear, Bam, the makeup was it." I turned my nose in the air and tapped my foot, waiting for an apology. After a moment's hesitation, it came. "I'm sorry."
~*~Ville~*~
I could see the painkillers in his system warring with the vague anger he felt. "You didn't look like a crackwhore, Bammie.. You look hot. Mm, next time we go out, will you wear a little eyeliner for me?"
The look he gave me, that 'Are you fucking kidding me?' look, is purely Ape, and I had to struggle not to laugh. He gaped for a minute more before finding his voice. "I most certainly the fuck will not. Jesus, is that fuckin *glitter*?"
"It looks really sexy, Bam," I wheedled, still sitting on the bed. I opened my arms to him. "Come here, my love..." When he just glared, I sighed softly. "Bammie.. Come on, sweetheart. I'm sorry."
I knew the look in my eyes told him I was anything but. "You are fucking not." Bam shook his head, but the painkillers I had given him were taking over. "I look ri-goddamn-diculous."
I shook my head quickly. "Seriously, you look.. hot." I wrapped him up in my arms as he lay back down, rubbing at his eyes and smearing his make up. Now he looked like a demented clown. "I love you, Bammie, and I was only playing."
He must have been out of it, because he ran a thumb over my lips, cuddling close before whispering against my neck. "I love you, too, Ville. So fuckin sweet to me..." Bam snuggled into my chest, snickering just a bit. "You think I look hot?"
Ah, here it was. My salvation in the form of codeine. "Of course I do, my love," I cooed in his ear, smoothing his hair. "If you weren't sick, oh, the things I'd do to you, Bammie."
Bam grumbled a bit, adjusting his hold on me to half kick off the blankets. "Whatever. You just don't want to be in trouble."
"I'm risking catching your awful cold, aren't I? I want you to feel better."
He smirked, half out of things already. "Yeah well... Suck my ass."
"I will..." I felt him giggle a bit against me, and continued pulling my fingers through his dark curls. "Go back to sleep, sweetheart, my Bammie.. I promise I won't do anything else to you.."
He snorted at me, immediately sniffling and coughing. Bam groaned osftly, pressing his messy face to my chest. "Well, I don't promise anything. You'll get yours, Willa. When you least expect it."
The ungreateful brat.. I took care of him for three days before he was up and running around in his usual psychotic manner.
Chapter 7 is one of my favorites, mainly cause all the Bam parts (written by me) were written while I was under the influence of all kinds of cold meds and everything came out really, really weird. But I love it. Feel free to comment, cause its cool!
Title: Nidiots
Rating: PG-13 to NC-17
Genre: Comedy and smut.
Disclaimer: We own nothing but the insanity of the storyline. Period.
Summary: The drunken adventures of Bam and Ville.
Notes: I (Carley) played Bam. Bam's POV was written by me. Ville's POV was written by my friend Jess. Now you know who to blame for what, ok?
Chapters 1 and 2
Chapters 3, 4 and 5
Chapter 6-Dude, Where's My Car?
~*~Bam~*~
"Fuck," I muttered as I slammed the refrigerator door in disgust. That fucking Raab Himself must have gotten into my beer supply again. Between him and Heroin Ass Novak, I've got to start locking that shit up. Seriously.
"What's wrong?" Ville asked, coming up behind me. I didn't say anything, only opened the door to the fridge so he could see just how much beer we didn't have and he groaned. "Bammie, make your idiot friends stop drinking my beer," he pouted, sticking his lip out even further than usual to get his point across.
"First of all, it's my beer shithead," I said to him as I headed towards the steps, "And second of all, this could be a good thing."
"How is it your beer?" Ville asked, following me upstairs to my room. "And how is no beer ever a good thing?"
"It's my beer cause I bought it," I said pointedly.
Ville cocked his head to the side as if he was thinking about it, then nodded and said, "Yea, you have a point. But still, what's yours is mine and vice versa."
I snorted as I dug around for a pair of pants. "Says who?"
Ville came closer and tugged at the waistband of my boxers. "These are my boxers, love."
I looked down and saw he was right. Whoops. I looked back up at him and grinned. Really, I had nothing to say to that, so I just shrugged and muttered, "Whatever." I shoved him-in a very loving way-towards the huge pile of clothes on the floor he calls his dresser and said, "Get dressed." he looked at me questioningly and I nodded. "The good thing about no beer, Willa Walo, is that it means we get to go on a beer run."
Ville looked at me like I was crazy, mostly cause he never understood why I was so into beer runs. Hell, I don't even understand why I'm so into beer runs. Maybe it's just the anticipation of what's to come-blinding drunkenness and complete insanity-that gets me going. I don't know.
Anyway, ten minutes later, after another successful run with shoving Ville into his pants, we were on our way out the door. The sunlight hit my eyes and I winced and grabbed Ville's arm. "Dude, how the fuck long have we been inside?" I muttered, trying to remember the last time I saw daylight.
Ville chuckled and kissed my cheek. "Time really flies when you're totally wasted, eh?" he drawled, leaning into me a bit.
I giggled and pulled him along to my car. Or, rather, the spot where my car should have been. I stopped short when I realized my Hummer was missing. And it wasn't like I just didn't see it. I mean, come on-it's the Hummer. You don't not see the Hummer! "Dude," I muttered, letting go of Ville's arm and taking a quick glance around. "Where's my car?"
"Where's your car, dude?" Ville repeated a second later, in as much shock that the thing was missing as I was.
"Dude, where's my car?" I repeated a little bit louder, gritting my teeth.
"Where's your car dude?" Ville repeated beside me. A second later, he started giggling and I glared at him angrily. Now was not the time for giggles! "Dude, where's my car?" I screamed, my fists balled up in rage.
"I dunno...where's your car, dude?" he said before dissolving into a complete giggle fit. I gave him the meanest, angriest glare I could and he rolled his eyes. "Bammie, it's a movie! Remember?"
I shook my head. "I don't fucking care, dude, my fucking car is gone!"
Ville, sweet little one tracked mind Ville-was still on that fucking movie though. "What's my tattoo say? Sweet! What's mine say? Dude!" he burst into full blown laughter, clutching his sides and hunching over.
I groaned. I was so getting rid of HBO now. Ville + bad American movies=Bad Ville quoting Bad American movies. It gets old, I must say. "Ville, focus! My car, where is it?"
He stopped laughing long enough to look around and shrug before starting to laugh hysterically again. "What is so fucking funny now?" I seethed, crossing my hands over my chest.
"How...*giggle*...do you...*giggle*..manage to lose...*giggle*...your car at...*giggle*...at your own house?" Ville somehow or another managed to get all that out between fits of laughter. I was seriously starting to worry he was going to have another asthma attack soon if he didn't quit.
"That doesn't matter right now! What matters is that my car's gone!" I said, poking him in the side to get him to listen to me.
He stopped laughing, still trying to catch his breath, and shrugged. "It's around here somewhere, Bammie. We'll sort it out later," he grabbed my hand as he said this and pulled me to the garage. "You have three cars anyway, so we'll just take one of the other ones."
Oh yeah. I forgot about my other cars. Sometimes I really am a dumbass. As we walked to the garage, Ville started giggling again and I let out a frustrated growl. "Dude, what?!?"
"Dude, where's my car?" he said and shook his head as he giggled. "What a funny movie!"
Ok, I was never letting Ville watch tv ever again.
~*~Ville~*~
So I was a little punchy. Come on, I just had a bloody good orgasm, a too-short nap, and Bam is just so cute when he's mad. And that candle thing.. No matter what he might say, he was making some intense faces before he woke up. Besides, we had barely slept in at least three days.
Passing out is not the same as sleep. Passing out does not refresh your body or mind. So we were tired, still half drunk, and stupid. As usual. We climbed into the deep purple lambo, with the heartagram decorations.. That car was so bloody sexy.
I was still giggling, a bit breathless. "Let's get tattoos that say 'dude' and 'sweet'."
"No!"
My giggles turned into full blown laughter. "Than let's go harass the lady at the Chinese drive thru. And then!"
"No and then!" Bam yelled at me, unconsciously quoting the movie again and sending me into fresh peals of laughter. He half glared, half grinned. "Seriously, Willa, and I thought you watched too much porn.."
I felt myself pouting before I could help it. "I'm bored of porn. My daddy has let me see enough porn." I lit up two cigarettes, leaning over to place one carefully between Bam's pink lips. "I like comedy now."
Bam rolled his eyes, obviously trying not to laugh when I said 'daddy'. He always makes fun of me for that. But I just cuddled close to him, and soon his hand was stroking my thigh and he forgot about making fun. "You're a nidiot."
The laughter was back. Even when I felt like shit, Bam could always make me laugh. When I wanted to laugh, it was worse. I was giggling and hiccupping, and believe me, hiccupping smoke is painful. "BamBam, be nice. You're the one with nidiot on your ass."
"Only cause you couldn't fit a tatoo in those tight ass pants of yours."
I looked at him for a second before dissolving once again into laughter. "Oh, you know you love it. You always bitch, then later tell me how good my ass looks. So there." I stuck my tongue out, pointing out an irritated semi-truck driver who was honking at us for inching into his lane.
Bam grumbled, but he squeezed my leg a bit, hand sliding a little closer to the inside of my thigh. He gave me a slightly disgruntled look at I pushed his hand closer to my knee.
"You want me to be able to get out of the car?"
He gave me that lovely, evil grin again. "What the fuck do I care? Stay here." Bam leaned over as if to kiss me, only at the last second remembering there were people around and digging in the glovebox instead. I sighed in frustration. "Need anything, babe?"
The Bam version of an apology. "Just a pack of smokes, dearest." I watched him climb out of the low, Italian sports car, shamelessly watching his cute ass as he straightened himself before walking into the store. I smoked slowly, half hanging out the window as I waited for him to return.
Bam smiled at me before starting the car, one of those rare, genuinely sincere, geniuinly sweet smiles that let me know exactly how much he cared for me. The smile that almost made me want to cry from happiness. Fuck. No wonder he calls me a little girl.
He handed me my cigarettes and I took them, shoving them into a shirt pocket. I watched as he slung a case of beer into the the backseat, followed by the twelve pack of Natural Ice, which we call Nasty Ice. If you've never drank it, you won't fully appreciate the name. I could feel my nose wrinkle and eyes squint in disgust. "Fuck, BamBam, why'd you get that shit?"
"It's a decoy." Bam gave me a proud grin, which, not even knowing what the hell he was proud of, I returned. I rested my hand atop his on the gearshift as he continued. "If Raab's gonna be drinking my fucking booze, he's gonna get the cheap shit."
We returned to Castle Bam, and I helped him stuff beer into the fridge. The steady drone of Dunn telling us we were alcoholics reached our ears, but didn't quite sink in. Grabbing two beers each, we headed outside in search of the elusive Hummer. How any can lose a car so enourmous is beyond me, with no license at all, but... Somehow my Bammie managed to do it.
Bam groaned in frustration. "Honest to god, you have no concept of where we like, parked?" He peered around the fields as I shook my head. What, like the thing was hiding? "You really don't remember?"
"No idea, Bam." I slung an arm around his waist. "But.. we are far from the house.. And Shitbirds has left the grass conveniently long.." I leaned towards him, gently probing his ear with my tongue.
"Ew!" Bam caught my hurt look and quickly tried to cover his laughter. "Aw, Willa.. I just mean there's like, ticks and bugs and shit." He glanced around before kissing me deeply. "C'mon. We gotta figure out where my car is first. Then we can play."
I sighed softly, letting him take my hand and tug me along. How the hell could we have lost an entire Hummer? Could we possibly have been that drunk? I started giggling again, the giggles turning into full laughter.
Bam half glared at me. "What the fuck is so funny now?"
"We lost a whole Hummer.." I managed, one hand over my mouth, laughing as I followed him along the perimetre of the property.
"Yeah.. you've lost more than that, Valo." Bam smiled and shook his head. We foung the Hummer behind a large group of trees. I saw one of my shoes hanging over the radio antennae. "What the fuck?"
Silently agreeing with him, I collected my shoe. "So we're out here now.. What do you want to do?"
Chapter 7-Real Men Wear Makeup
~*~Bam~*~
Ok, so it was a really bad idea to stay in the woods. Really bad. I know it was a bad idea cause now I have some kind of full blown cold that's just killing me slowly. I don't even remember what the hell we did in the woods really; and no, it wasn't anything smutty. We were just too damn drunk and dysfunctional for that. I don't even think we moved the Hummer, which sucks cause I forget where we found it again.
All I know is, we stayed out in the woods until it got too cold and dark and then we came inside and drank till we passed out. Sounds like a normal Ville and Bam night, except for that tiny detail where we were in the mother fucking woods for 5 hours. Little fact: woods+pollen+cold=Bam getting full blown allergy attack. And another little known fact: I really need to stop putting everything in my life into a math problem. I hated math in school.
Anyway, I woke up this morning...afternoon...well, whenever the fuck it was I woke up, and immediately realized I couldn't breathe. The fact that I couldn't see through my swollen, puffy eyes came next, followed by the fact that I couldn't talk with my dry, scratchy throat burning like hell. There was dry snot all over my face-which was gross, by the way-and the killer headache I was sporting was definitely not from drinking. Well, ok-maybe it was one part drinking and two parts allergies.
I reached out for Ville, cause I knew I was sick and when I'm sick, I cuddle. That's just me. So imagine my anger when I realized Ville wasn't cuddled up beside me like he usually is when we wake up after passing out. Yea, he likes to cuddle when he's drunk. I like to cuddle when I'm sick. So, sue us. We're still manly men. Well, I am anyway.
"Willaaaaa," I my voice came out hoarse and rough, and the effort I put into shouting Ville's name made me sputter and cough and my chest started constricting and I figured this was it. I was going to die of a coughing attack. Alone. Brilliant. I felt warm hands wrap around me and somebody leaning me forward and rubbing my back. Yea, like that's going to help me when I'm dying. But soon enough the coughing ceased and I leaned into Ville, who seemingly appeared out of nowhere, and looked up so I was staring into his eyes. They are so pretty, his eyes. So big and green and cat like...ok, now I am starting to sound like a girly man.
"You have a cold baby?" he asked in a soothing, motherly tone, wiping sleep from my eyes. I nodded miserably and he smiled and handed me something. Some kind of pills, I don't know. All I know was, I swallowed those suckers so fast. He lay me back down and pulled the covers up around me. "Now, sleep sweetheart and you'll feel better later," he said as he turned to leave the room.
"No, Willa stay!" I cried out in a childish voice. I don't really care if I sounded like a wimp. I was sick as a dog and I wanted somebody to cuddle with and fawn all over me. "I don't wan' go sweepies." Ok, yea that sounded childish. But, still...
Ville sighed a little bit and then crawled into bed next to me, wrapping me in his arms. I snuggled closer so I was practically laying on top of him, my face buried in his chest. "You're such a girl Bammie," Ville said, laughing softly as he stroked my hair.
I sniffled. "Shut up, Willa. It's not like I don't have to put up with this shit from you every fucking night." I pulled myself in a later tighter and let those pills take over and knock me out.
Let me tell you this: people who are doped up on allergy medicine have weird dreams. I really don't remember all the details, but my dreams definitely involved purple dancing pigs and Ville in a cabaret costume, singing showtunes. And you'd think I would have liked that last one, but I really didn't. It was kind of creepy. Anyway, I was woken up when I felt Ville stirring underneath me, obviously trying to get up without waking me. I wanted to pull him down and make him stay with me, but I was in that weird comatose state; you know, the one where you're awake and aware of what's going on around you but you just can't move to react to anything. So I just stayed where I was and listened to him shuffle out of the room.
Finally, after a few minutes of trying I managed to get my eyes to open up and realized that those pills definitely didn't work. I still felt like shit. So, I did what any sensible sick person would do-I leaned over to the nightstand and grabbed the pill bottle and popped two more. Then I decided to read the back and it dawned on me that the bottle said only take one pill every 6 to 8 hours and I had just taken 4 pills in a matter of 2 hours. Rad.
By the time Ville came back from wherever he disappeared to, I was flying. Seriously, I was feeling no pain whatsoever. "Willywoohoo!" I shouted and reached my arms out to him.
He stopped short and looked at me like I was nuts. "Bammie, you ok?" he asked and I shook my head and giggled.
"I'm so woozy. Everything's really spinning," I slurred. "It makes me wan' go to Hershey Park again. Willa let's go!"
Ville frowned and reached out to feel my forehead. I smiled at him. "You're hands are so warm, like you put them in the oven" I whispered.
"Bammie, have you been drinking?" he asked me and I shook my head no. "What the hell is wrong with you then?"
"Nothing, I feel so goooooooood," I said in a tone that sounded stoned as fuck, even to me.
He must have noticed the pill bottle was open or something because his eyes widened and he screeched, "Did you take more pills?!?" I nodded. "How many?" he asked.
I struggled to concentrate on my fingers, but it was really hard cause they wouldn't stop moving and they were so blurry. "Ummm...this manys?" I said in a question like manner, holding up, like, 6 and a half fingers. Seriously, I was fucked.
"Oh my Lord," he breathed, and then he read the back of the bottle and slammed it down on the counter. He came closer to me and pushed me so I was completely lying flat again and pulled the covers back up around me. "Just sleep it off sweetheart," he whispered in my ear. He kissed my cheek and I beamed up at him.
"I wuv my Willa," I slurred and then frowned in confusion. Wait-there were like, 15 Ville's staring back at me! Damn, when did he get so many twins? "Willy, which one is you?"
That look was back on his face, the one that screams "You're nuts". He looked around the room, at all the Ville's and he was about to say something but I guess he changed his mind, cause he just smiled and said, "I'm the Ville you want Bammie."
"How do I know?" I asked and he laughed a bit before patting my head like I was a big dumb child. Seriously, he needs to stop doing that.
"Cause I just told you so," he said with a wink. I took this in for a moment, cocking my head to the side. "Now, go to bed baby. Pwease, for me?"
I smiled and nodded, and reached out to pull him closer to me. Everything was really spinning now and I was starting to feel drowsy. I definitely wasn't feeling so good about those pills anymore. "When I wake up later I'm gonna take you and all your twins out to drink," I whispered in his ear and he laughed.
"That's alright baby," he said, putting his fingers over my eyes to shut them for me. "Just sleep it off."
"Night Willa," I mumbled sleepily. "Night Ville twins."
And I was out faster than I have ever passed out in my life.
~*~Ville~*~
Oh, lord. I had to run out of the room before I started laughing, so I wouldn't wake my poor darling. I know, I see him drunk all the time, and I've been stoned with him more times than I can count.. But Bam is fucking *funny* when he's doped up. Ville twins? I wasn't sure what the hell he was talking about, but it was entertaining.
I know we were in the woods for a while, being drunken idiots, I would assume. And I have a vague recollection of him deciding he needed to strip down for a jump in the creek. I guess that's where his cold came from. Plus, drinking as much as we do doesn't really do anything for your immune system.
It was getting to be about beer o' clock, but I decided to abstain for at least one night, so I could keep checking on Bam and making sure he was still breathing. The pills I gave him were pretty strong, and with his usual lack of thinking, god only knew how many he had taken. Good thing he's pretty.
I flipped on the tv in his room and started to channel surf. Wayne's World. Perfect, another brilliantly funny, brilliantly bad American movie. I checked on Bam before settling in to watch, knowing damn well he'd be sprawled half atop me well before the movie was through.
This is going to sound mean as hell, but he looked so funny. His pretty blue eyes shut tight, all puffy, this weird, half snore, half gurgle escaping him as he tried to breathe, drooling and snotting.. Bam was lucky I loved him so damn much, or I'd have been seriously grossed out. Instead, I cleaned him up a bit with some tissue, and went back to the movie.
It's a shame he was sick, really. There are just loads of fun things I could do to a passed out Bam. Looking down at him thoughtfully, I paused. Well.. Some of them weren't too bad. And he was sick and drugged. How mad could he possibly get? And if he did get pissed, it's not like he was gonna retaliate anytime soon.
Grabbing supplies, I choked back a giggle and sat cross-legged on the bed next to poor, defenseless, half comatose little Bammie. I started by petting his cheek, wanting to make sure he wouldn't wake from any contact. He just snored louder. Good. I giggled again; he was going to kill me when he came back to reality.
Carefully, I tilted his chin up, holding his sweet face while I gently applied a thick line of black eyeliner to his top lids, making them reach out in a cateye effect. Fuck, that looked sort of sexy. I guess I won't make a fuss next time he tells me I look hot in makeup. I rummaged around in my small bag and found some glitter. Ironically, I think Bam's ex gave it to me shortly before they broke up.
The glitter fell on his closed lids and I brushed some lightly over the very top of his cheekbones. We were going to be waking up covered in glitter forever, but I didn't care. This was too good an opportunity to waste. I decided to go all out, and put a bit of blush on him as well. Since I didn't want my BamBam looking like too much of a hooker, I left the fire engine red lipstick out of it, and went for some barely pink lip gloss instead.
I leaned back to study my handiwork, feeling a huge grin spread across my face. I didn't do a half bad job. And he looked.. well, somewhere in between pretty and a hooker. But that was sort of hot too. Snickering into one hand, I leaned back against the headboard (now clear of any objects that might fall in the throes of passion) and continued to watch my movie.
What would be funnier, pointing Bam towards a mirror and watching his reaction, or letting him wander about oblivious till one of his friends died laughing? I figured letting others see him would defiantly be funnier, but might also end up with me tied down, covered in honey, on top of an anthill. Or something equally horrendous.
Besides, if Bam got caught on film like that, he'd smother me in my sleep. I felt him snuggling up next to me, and wrapped my arms around him. Might as well enjoy it before he started yelling at me.
~*~Bam~*~
I was content. I seriously was, in spite of my cold and the fact that I haven't been drunk in a while. I mean, Ville is just so damn warm and easy to cuddle with. Not like I'd ever tell him that or anything. Anyway, I snuggled in closer to him and felt his arms wrap around me. I wasn't asleep, but I wasn't awake either. I was kind of in this sweet oblivion where I was vaguely aware of my surroundings, but not enough to really take notice of things, you know? Anyway, I was halfway back to sleeping off the most ridiculous over dose of my life when I heard the most retarded thing ever. "Reet! Reet! Reet!"
I groaned and forced my poor, aching eyes open to stare up at Ville, who was totally into this retarded movie. "Willa- Wayne's World?" I croaked, frowning when I realized I still felt like a pile of shit.
"It's funny Bammie," Ville said, pouting at me in the sweetest way. I groaned and rolled over, burying my face in the pillow. I heard him chuckle a bit and I turned over to glare at him. He clamped his mouth shut when I looked at him, but his eyes were still laughing. "I'm sowwy, baby...go to sleep," he said, obviously trying to hold in his giggles.
Why did I get the feeling he was laughing at me? I struggled to pull myself up into a sitting position so I could see him better and just happened to catch a quick glimpse of my face in the mirror on the dresser. Ah, so that's why he was laughing at me. He put fucking makeup on me! "You little shit!" I shouted angrily, jumping out of bed in a hurry. Of course, me being me and clumsy as fuck I wound up getting all tangled up in the sheets and falling into a heap on the floor. As I tried to get myself free of the bedsheets, I wondered in the back of my mind if I would ever be able to do anything without falling down at some point.
Ville was sitting on the bed, clutching his stomach as he laughed hysterically at me. Fine. Laugh it up, little Finnish man. You'll get yours later. Finally, I pulled myself to my feet, arms over my chest, glaring at Ville.
He actually had the decency to look scared. Good. "Bammie," he said, eyes wide, "I swear I only did it cause I wanted to see if you looked good with makeup. And-and you do."
I snorted. "I looked like a crack whore and you know it," I said, crossing the room and standing by the bed. "You just wanted to take advantage of poor, passed out me." I stopped and thought about that for a moment, and then glared at him. "What else did you do to me?"
"Nothing," he said quickly, hands in the air. "I swear, Bam, the makeup was it." I turned my nose in the air and tapped my foot, waiting for an apology. After a moment's hesitation, it came. "I'm sorry."
~*~Ville~*~
I could see the painkillers in his system warring with the vague anger he felt. "You didn't look like a crackwhore, Bammie.. You look hot. Mm, next time we go out, will you wear a little eyeliner for me?"
The look he gave me, that 'Are you fucking kidding me?' look, is purely Ape, and I had to struggle not to laugh. He gaped for a minute more before finding his voice. "I most certainly the fuck will not. Jesus, is that fuckin *glitter*?"
"It looks really sexy, Bam," I wheedled, still sitting on the bed. I opened my arms to him. "Come here, my love..." When he just glared, I sighed softly. "Bammie.. Come on, sweetheart. I'm sorry."
I knew the look in my eyes told him I was anything but. "You are fucking not." Bam shook his head, but the painkillers I had given him were taking over. "I look ri-goddamn-diculous."
I shook my head quickly. "Seriously, you look.. hot." I wrapped him up in my arms as he lay back down, rubbing at his eyes and smearing his make up. Now he looked like a demented clown. "I love you, Bammie, and I was only playing."
He must have been out of it, because he ran a thumb over my lips, cuddling close before whispering against my neck. "I love you, too, Ville. So fuckin sweet to me..." Bam snuggled into my chest, snickering just a bit. "You think I look hot?"
Ah, here it was. My salvation in the form of codeine. "Of course I do, my love," I cooed in his ear, smoothing his hair. "If you weren't sick, oh, the things I'd do to you, Bammie."
Bam grumbled a bit, adjusting his hold on me to half kick off the blankets. "Whatever. You just don't want to be in trouble."
"I'm risking catching your awful cold, aren't I? I want you to feel better."
He smirked, half out of things already. "Yeah well... Suck my ass."
"I will..." I felt him giggle a bit against me, and continued pulling my fingers through his dark curls. "Go back to sleep, sweetheart, my Bammie.. I promise I won't do anything else to you.."
He snorted at me, immediately sniffling and coughing. Bam groaned osftly, pressing his messy face to my chest. "Well, I don't promise anything. You'll get yours, Willa. When you least expect it."
The ungreateful brat.. I took care of him for three days before he was up and running around in his usual psychotic manner.
Chapter 7 is one of my favorites, mainly cause all the Bam parts (written by me) were written while I was under the influence of all kinds of cold meds and everything came out really, really weird. But I love it. Feel free to comment, cause its cool!