Fic: Mars Infernal 10/? NC-17 overall

[persianfire]

Title: Mars Infernal 10/?
Author: Persianfire
Rating: NC-17 overall
Summary: All roads lead to Bam, even this one. What happens after the kiss?
Pairing: Ville/Other eventually Vam
Warning: Ville/Other, confusion, angst...nothing too bad!
Disclaimer: The bands/people are not mine, and never will be, this story is a complete work of fiction
Feedback: Is like heartagram cookies--moreish and adored!



links to all previous chapters
chapters 4,3,2,1

interlude/chapter5

chapter 6
chapter 7
chapter 8



(  chapter 9 )

notes: I was bribed with vam cookies, and who can resist those? so here's chapter 10. 11 might be a while because i've caught up with myself and....i'm off to LONDON tomorrow, in preperation for HIM on TUESDAY! ::manic bounces::

Bam didn’t join the audience that night. He stayed backstage drinking from the wings. Ville could see him from the corner of his eye, and tried not to look too often. He stumbled over the words to ‘Rip Out the Wings of a Butterfly’ and passed it off as too much drink.

The audience believed him, he wasn’t sure if the band did. He leaned against the microphone, closing his eyes, trying to gain strength from the music, the words he’d created, but only managed to feel more alone than he’d ever felt in his life.

When they’d reached the hotel earlier that evening Bam had booked another room. A room far away from all of them, because that was all they had left. Ville wasn’t sure he believed that, but couldn’t do anything about it.

That was the first thing to change, usually Bam just passed out in whatever room they were drinking in-usually Ville’s. Now he was watching the show from the wings, his face looked like that of a stranger’s. He wasn’t singing along, he didn’t have a manic grin on his face and he was standing still, Ville didn’t think he’d ever seen Bam stand so still. That was the second thing to change between them.

He was such a dick. Ville kicked himself mentally, if only he’d kept quiet, or locked the goddamned bathroom door then none of this would be happening. He wouldn’t feel nauseas, well, only the kind that came with too much alcohol, but he was used to that.

The rest of the set went perfectly, no one guessed Ville’s inner turmoil, and Ville knew as soon as he walked off stage he would have to talk to Bam. He wasn’t sure he wanted to. He didn’t think he was ready for the things Bam was going to say to him.

30 Seconds to Mars were strangely absent, Ville had a feeling Jared was trying to give him some space to work things out. He walked up to Bam; unable to pass him undetected, but didn’t know what to say.

He, who usually had words banging at his mind, sending him to the brink of insanity, could think of nothing to say to the man in front of him. “We gonna talk or what?” Ville nodded slowly.

“Let me tell the rest we’re leaving.”

Ville quickly told the first band member he could find; Burton and told him that he and Bam were going back to the hotel.

Burton gave his shoulder a quick squeeze and smiled encouragingly.

They got a cab to the hotel, there were still too many fans in the streets to walk back comfortably, and Ville wasn’t in the mood to paste on a smile or sign autographs right now.

He remembered another cab ride, both of them slightly drunk, laughing into Bam’s camera for the making of the videos. This was a far cry from that. They both sat still, even Bam, neither looked at each other but found amusement from street lights passing by.

They reached the hotel too quickly, and Ville followed Bam to his hotel room, trying to remember the direction, just in case he needed to know where he was in the future. He had a feeling Bam wanted to be in his own territory, if you could claim a hotel room as territory that is.

The skater fumbled with the key-card, swearing softly under his breath before finally letting them in. Ville looked around, feigning interest in the mundane décor, anything that kept his attention away from Bam.

His fingers itched to hold a cigarette, but the tightness in his chest told him not to even try.

Bam sat on the edge of the bed, an odd expression on his face, shoulders slumped; deflated. “What would my mother say?”

The tension left Ville after that and he laughed quietly, making the decision to sit next to Bam, barely brushing their shoulders. “Has your mother seriously objected to anything you’ve done?”

Bam shrugged, their shoulders accidentally bumping. “This is different. This is-this is cock up ass, and fuck knows what else. You know that I know nothing about gay sex, right? It’s not like I watch gay porn, it’s not like I’ll automatically know what to do. Plus, people shit from there, it’s unhygienic.”

Ville laughed loudly then, and leaned up against Bam. “Gay porn videos are nothing like the real thing, Bam-Bam. And shit isn’t a problem if you take care of personal hygiene. You’re worrying too much.”

“I still don’t fancy men.” He looked confused and Ville pulled back far enough to watch the expression move across his face.

“But do you fancy me?” Ville asked half serious.

He shrugged his shoulders, and shredded the skin on his bottom lip before looking at Ville. “I love you,” he said resigned, and didn’t object when Ville pulled him into a hug.