Smut offering... :D
Sorry this took a while, in fact you might not even remember the start to this story....hmmmmm...well, incase you don't, it was called Road Trip. I'd give you a link, but I'm too lazy :P
Aaaaaaaaaaway, I still DK, DO and it NH, which sucks, but hey, do does life, so whaddaya expect?
So, this time you got me telling the story. I’m not sure I’ll be able to do it quite as well as my little poet over there did, but I’ll give it my best shot. Nothing less than perfection will do this story justice.
This story…well, it started about three days ago, when Ville and I decided to make things officially official. See, we got those tattoo bands on our fingers. We became pretty much inseparable. People were constantly asking if the tattoos meant we were married, if we were living together, if we had any plans for the future but, until about three days ago, our only plan was to be together forever.
We were lying in bed, not talking, not doing anything really. It was first thing in the morning, way too early to get up - we were just…together. We got up eventually, still not saying anything, dragging ourselves across the corridor to the bathroom for a shower (doing the darting across the hall naked routine that we do every morning - we should really just buy bathrobes or something, but that would be far less exciting), stepping under the jets, washing our hair, brushing our teeth, getting dressed, heading down for food. We still hadn’t said a word.
We walked into the kitchen. My friends were already in there with April. April was tidying out a cupboard, my friends were drinking chocolate milkshakes and throwing fruit loops at one another. Ville shuffled straight to the coffee machine, poured us a cup each, I headed for the cereal then the fridge, passing him the milk without looking while he handed me two spoons from the drawer beside him. It was like a well practiced factory production line. We turned at the same time, him putting down a coffee at my place, me putting down a bowl of cereal in front of him, sat down and raised spoons full of milk and cereal to our mouths.
“What?” we asked at the same time, realizing that everyone in the kitchen was staring at us.
I think it was then that we realized how perfect this is. Me and Ville. We had always thought we were perfect, of course, but right then we got just how perfect. We were sitting in the yard later on that day while Ville smoked his way through a pack or two of cigarettes - bet he left a whole lot of smoking out of his story, huh? That’d be his guilty conscience from having promised me he’d smoke less conveniently leaving the billion fags he got through out, I guess - when we finally talked about it.
“Bam?”
“Yeah?”
“Earlier…what happened at breakfast and what they all said…it kinda got me thinking about things…”
“Yeah, me too.”
I didn’t tell you that, did I? After the “what?” we were teased about being like an old married couple for a good ten minutes until Ape told them to put a lid on it.
“…what were you thinking?”
“I want to marry you.”
Well, you know me. I’m not quite so romantic and good with words as my lover. What I wanted to say was that I adore him, that I want to spend the rest of my life right by his side, that I want to have a family with him, live with him, grow old with him, take my last breath with him, but if I had tried to say any of that out loud, it would have gone weird and I’d have said I’d adore to die beside him or some such un-romanticness.
My slightly abrupt statement seemed to get those general points across though. A beautiful smile spread across his face.
“Me too…” he whispered.
So, there it was. What followed after was two days of us being in the weird state of being stressed and yet completely blissful while we arranged a quickie-wedding in Vegas. After we had decided to get married, we ran indoors and started making phone calls. We had said over and over again that we had no plans to get married in the near future, so we decided to keep the wedding a total secret, even from the guests. As luck would have it, it was our anniversary three days after we decided - that’s today, for all you people who weren’t paying attention earlier - so we decided we could plan a trip for everyone to Vegas. Five years is a pretty significant anniversary after all, so we didn’t think they’d think it too strange. We invited the band, my friends and our parents and brothers to Vegas, organized them flights, paid for everyone’s flights and accommodation and set about planning the actual wedding.
Neither of us had said anything, but last time we were in Vegas, at the end of that amazing road trip, we had both noticed a few chapels we could get married at. So we went on line, checked them all out, picked the best and booked it there and then. All that remained was to buy wedding rings without causing a stir. We managed that too though and then it was all set. People wondered, I’m sure, why we were walking around in a state of pure blissfulness, unable to keep our hands off one another even more so than usual, but we didn’t care.
We got to Vegas first thing this morning and got everyone checked into a hotel. Ville and I didn’t check in, having booked into a rather familiar hotel for our wedding night, but no one seemed to notice. I’m sure they did notice though, when Ville and I disappeared for a bit before dinner and returned wearing suits and shirts. Nothing too dressy - I mean, Ville wears a suit a lot anyway, but I think seeing me in one was a bit confusing for them - but we wanted to look good for later this evening.
We’re sitting in the restaurant now. We asked for a private room, and luckily, with the number of people we have here, they let us have one. Means that when we tell them, we don’t have to worry about people overhearing and ruining things with press and whatever. We can actually see the chapel where we’re getting married from the window and I can feel Ville buzzing with excitement beside me. He keeps patting his pocket to check the rings are there, kissing my cheek, whispering into my ear that he can’t wait. Everyone’s finished their desserts now and I guess its time for my little announcement. I’m wondering how best to interrupt the many different conversations around me when Rake helps out a bit. Inadvertently, of course.
“Speech!”
Everyone goes silent, and turns to look at us.
“Okay…” I begin. Ville hears the shake in my voice and squeezes my knee. “I guess you’re probably wondering why we bothered to fly you all out here for our anniversary, but…well, we’ve got some news…”
I let that silence hang in the air for a few seconds, just because I’m an evil bastard like that.
“We brought you all here because…we’re getting married in about twenty minutes…”
Okay, very glad about the private room! People are shrieking and jumping up and down, our parents are crying and so is Ville. I’m having trouble holding back the sobs myself. I love our friends and family so damn much sometimes. I pull Ville onto my knee and he straddles my lap instantly. I can feel his heart pounding against my chest as he clings to me. Fifteen minutes fly by and soon we’re paying the bill, running out of the door and across the road to the chapel.
Ville seems to have perked up a bit and now he just can’t stop grinning. I pull him close and kiss him slowly and deeply while we wait for the wedding taking place in there to finish and then…well, it’s our turn, isn’t it?
The service is…well, perfect, apart from the fact that on the one hand, I never wanted it to end - I just wanted to be marrying Ville Valo for the rest of my life - and on the other hand, it couldn’t finish quick enough so I could be his husband. Jess and Jesse stepped forwards with the rings we had given them outside, we slid them onto one another’s fingers and then…well, holy fuck, I’m married to Ville!
We laugh as our lips break apart after a rather deep kiss and our friends fly towards us. Many drinks are consumed when we get back to their hotel, Ape and Ville’s mom still haven’t stopped sniffling away in the corner.
“Bam…?”
“Yes angel?”
“Can we go soon?”
I turn to him with a bit of a pout. I was kinda enjoying the party! And I was enjoying the fact that we’re pissing off the bartender and the other guests in the hotel bar even more.
“Why?”
“Because…if we don’t go soon, we won’t get to the hotel until after midnight and I want us to fuck on our wedding night…”
I jump up, grab his hand, drag him out of the bar shouting our goodbye’s to our friends and families and telling them we’ll see them sometime soon - we haven’t really decided when we’re going home yet - and out to the limo that’s been waiting for us for the last hour and a half. That’s gonna be one hell of a bill…
The limo is going as fast as it can, really, but I can see Ville getting more and more edgy. It’s almost half eleven and, last time I asked the driver, he thought we’d get to the hotel by ten to midnight at the earliest. Even if we did get there at ten to, there’s no way we’d be able to fuck before midnight. So I lean forwards, slide up the partition between us and the driver and sit myself on Ville’s lap.
“This wasn’t really what I had in mind for my wedding night you know…” he whispers as I get our pants out of the way.
“I know babe, I’m sorry…”
“Don’t be...fucking in a limo…so rock star…why have I never done it before?”
“Don’t know babe…score it off your list,” I smirk as I impale myself on him. I know that screen is supposed to be soundproof, but there is no way in HELL that the driver didn’t hear the screams coming from us for the next twenty five minutes. Turns out, when we’d finished and caught our breath and pulled our pants up, we’d been stopped outside the hotel for about ten minutes…ooops.
So, after some blushing and over-tipping the driver hugely, we got inside and practically skipped towards the reception desk. I picked the room this time, and I think I did a pretty good job. I was considering getting the same room as we had last time we stayed here - all goth and sexy as hell - but then this one caught my eye. I get the keys and drag Ville to Room 69 - hehehe, good number - and let him in.
“Jesus Christ Bam!”
The look on his face is stunning, to be honest with you. He looks like a kid at Christmas. And no, I didn’t get us the Santa’s grotto room. That’s just wrong. I did, however, get us the, and I quote from the website, ‘french boudoir fit for Lestat himself’. I will admit to never having actually read the books obsessively like Ville has, but I did catch the movie, so I assumed that was a good thing. It is a gorgeous room - imagine reds and golds and silks and fancy stuff I don’t even know the proper names for and antique-y looking furniture and lace and satin and you’re probably pretty close. But even through all that glamour, there is a definite touch of…erm…I dunno…darkness, I guess, about it. Like…somewhere Lestat might live!
“Hey, you know what this is like? I swear, it’s like ‘Interview with a Vampire’ crossed with ‘Queen of the Damned’!”
See, that’s why we’re a perfect couple! He just…gets stuff! Right away, without me having to ramble on, making myself sound like an idiot. The slight downside to this room, I discover, is that what follows is a twenty minute lecture on the entire series of Anne Rice books and then the movies but it’s okay really, coz the whole time he was talking, he wasn’t exactly objecting to me stripping him and pushing him back onto the bed.
“…and you just know that Louis and Lestat are so into each other!”
The other thing that makes us so perfect? Our innate ability to find the homosexuality in just about anything. He’s the only other person I know who saw the sexual tension between Spike and Giles that whole time Spike was chained in Giles’ bathtub. And I swear he spent the whole of Lord of the Rings giggling every time Aragorn and Legolas so much as looked in the general direction of one another. True though…they were soooooo doing it while the rest of the fellowship was asleep.
That’s all besides the point. The point is, that now I have my lover…actually, my husband - fuck that sounds amazing! - beneath me on the bed, totally naked and completely beautiful as he smiles up at me, realizing I think, that he was rambling a bit before and that I probably didn’t listen to a word of it. I just lower my lips to his and kiss him.
Outside in the limo, that was great, but this…this is going to be even better. He’s tugging a bit at my shirt as I move my lips down his neck but he stops the second I meet a nipple, dropping his head back and moaning loudly. I suck lightly, feeling his flesh harden in my mouth, biting suddenly and causing his thin frame to jerk beneath my weight. His breathing has deepened dramatically, he’s gasping for air and clutching at me as I move further down to kiss the smooth skin all the way to his impressive erection.
Taking his head into my mouth, he gasps so hard it almost sounds painful. What is painful, however, is the way he tangles his fingers through my hair and pulls me back up to his lips. He flips us over, sits up on my stomach and smirks before he stretches out over me, his cock brushing my lips, smearing them with the sweetest tasting precum.
Giving in with no fight whatsoever, I open my mouth and he pushes his hips forwards. I slide my hands up his legs to hold his hips in a vague attempt to control him and he shivers violently above me. Slowly, carefully, he begins to thrust, pushing his hips into my mouth and moaning continuously, building his rythym up while I suck hard until he’s shuddering and coming deep down my throat in hot spurts that seem to last forever.
He moves back down my body and snuggles into me, pressing his legs to my sides and twisting his hands through my hair. He seems content to just stay like that for a bit so I’m not gonna complain. He looks up at me after a few minutes and grins.
“What?” I ask.
“…we got married, baby…”
“Yeah, we did,” I laugh. “So what happens next?”
“Next? Well, I wanted you to make love to me…” he smirks.
“Yeah, I know what happens next…I meant…when we leave here.”
“We…go home.”
“Where’s home?”
I guess we hadn’t entirely thought things through. We decided we needed to talk, so Ville got up and pulled me through to the bathroom, ran us a bath and went and got the bottle of champagne from the mini-bar.
“Okay,” he says once he’s settled in my arms in the bubbles. “Talk.”
I surprise myself by being able to get what I want to say across to him quite eloquently. He would have understood if I had said it all in my usual Bam fashion, of course, but it was nice to sound a bit graceful for once. We talked for ages, until the bubbles disappeared and the water started to turn cold. By the time we climbed out of the tub, wrapped fluffy towels around our waists and I had sat him on the counter we had decided pretty much everything we needed to. And probably some things we didn’t need to, like what the dog we’re gonna get will be called, but we decided them anyway. I smile to myself as I head back into the bedroom to get that cut throat razor I had been told I could use. How did my life get so good, huh?
He wraps his legs around my waist when I’m done and I carry him back to the bed, still chattering away about how he wants a bath tub just like that one in the bathroom - one of those cool old fashioned ones with feet that’s big enough to fit about 4 people in - and how he really wants a velvet coat, which has nothing to do with the room or anything, he apparently just decided he had to tell me, but what finally gets my complete attention is when he says,
“…but what I want most of all is for my husband to make love to me…”
Well, who could resist? Hearing him call me his husband made me stop dead in my tracks and stare at his pretty face. He catches my lips in a sweet kiss and I place him down gently on the bed, crawling over him and…well, making love to him. Slowly, sweetly, with tenderness and every little bit of love and devotion I can find. He’s weeping softly as he comes between our bodies, sitting up a bit to nuzzle into my neck as I continue to move inside him. I raise an arm from propping me up to wrap round his back, holding him as close as I can. He breathes a “more” into my ear, unwinding a leg from around my waist and using his foot to push himself off the mattress. Even his own hips pushing into me doesn’t seem to be enough for him, as he whines another “more!” into my ear. I push him back onto the mattress, untangle his arms from around me, kneeling up and lifting his hips, spreading his legs further. To my unbelievable surprise, and his as well, I manage to make him come all over again as I pound into him. His cries of “more!” stop, only to be replaced with “I love you’s” as I take him closer and closer to his release. He’s so breathtaking as he lies there, sweat slicked and flushed, chest heaving, eyes shut, lips parted and swollen, his wedding ring glinting in the dim lights of the room as his hand lies on his chest. We come together, me collapsing into his arms, fucking exhausted, him practically unable to move as he tries to catch his breath.
We fell asleep like that, waking up in exactly the same position nearly 10 hours later. Well, I wake up nearly 10 hours later. Turns out Ville’s been awake for ages.
“Didn’t want to wake you…so beautiful…” he murmurs in between light kisses. We do leave the hotel room this time, going to find breakfast. We get in a cab and head for the nearest town and while we’re there, we get to tell the first group of people that we’re married - these kids who come up to us to ask me to sign their skateboards and aren’t shy about asking what the rings on our fingers are for. We get just the response we were hoping for - huge smiles and congratulations. Which made us all happy again - not that we ever stopped being happy, but…y’know…even more happy - and us being happy = us being horny, so…back to the hotel we go…
Lying in bed about two hours later, Ville singing quietly to me, drawing patterns on my chest, I had a little bit of an idea… The whole vampire Lestat thing had got me thinking. The fact that he was singing ‘join me in death…’ into my ear while his neck was inches from my face helped, I think. I decided to save it for later though. Give me time to plan things a little.
I sent Ville for a bath later that evening while I ordered us room service for dinner. Dinner, including a couple of bottles of blood red wine, arrived, we ate, we drank, we laughed and talked, I convinced him of my plan - didn’t take too much effort since wine and candles convince him of just about anything - and he even proclaimed it ‘fucking unbelievably perfectly hot!’ Good enough for me!
We sent the dinner stuff back, ordered some more wine and waited impatiently for it to arrive. Didn’t want to be interrupted once we got started, did we? We turned off the lights, lit all the candles, got some things together, removed unnecessary clothing and moved over to the bed. I smile to myself as I notice that, at some point, he had slicked on eyeliner and lip balm, making his lips shimmer in the candle glow and his green eyes all the more enticing. We kneel on the mattress facing each other and both lean forwards at the same time.
Our lips meet briefly, eyes staying open as we kiss, pulling away to kiss each others necks, shoulders, chests, stroking skin with fingertips, hands drifting down to grasp each other’s cocks and pumping slowly, just for a few seconds. Once we’re suitably turned on, I reach for one of those items I had to go find and Ville reclines on the bed.
I move in between his legs and hand him the blade first. He sits up a bit, takes it from me and pulls my left palm towards him. He looks up at me to check it’s still okay and smiles as I nod. He moves the blade swiftly across my palm and a crimson line appears instantly. Weirdly, it doesn’t hurt and my only gasp comes when his tongue darts out and licks some blood from the end of the cut, moaning as he swallows. I take the blade from him and do the same to his right palm. Seconds later, we’re looking at one another, palms upturned and almost dripping with blood. Almost in slow motion, he lies back, spreading his legs further and I move forwards to place my tip at his entrance.
Our hands meet, fingers interlocking, blood still warm between our joined palms, at the exact second I push my dick into his body. The razor falls from my hand onto the pillow just above his shoulder and I watch a drop of blood splatter from the blade onto his pale skin. Beautiful. I lower my head and suck the blood off, moving my lips to his neck.
“Uuuuhnnn…harder Bam!” he moans, and I know he’s not talking about the deep rocking of my hips. I do suck harder, determined to leave a bruise on his milky skin, but as I do so, I get another one of my ideas. I look down at him, eyes closed and gasping beneath me, and pick up that blade again. One quick movement and a brief scream from my lover and it’s done.
A thin diagonal line of crimson on his shoulder, as close to his neck as I could get without being too dangerous, the blood running and dripping onto the pillow behind him. What a damn waste. I move my lips to the cut, sucking on the blood, nipping at his skin a bit more with my teeth, lapping up the thin trails of red that run from the wound.
His hand flies up to hold the back of my head to him, hips jerking up into mine now, desperately trying to rub his neglected erection against my stomach as he presses us as close together as he can.
The rest of the night passes in a blur of blood and wine and making love and its wonderful. A damn good idea, even if I say so myself. And the fact that we were in a room Ville had decided was ‘totally vampire-sexy’ made it so much more incredible.
When we woke up - bodies still joined and palms still intertwined - well, my head was pounding. I had lost count of how many bottles of wine we had consumed. Ville was the one brave enough to open his eyes first and he groaned.
“Ohhhh…it’s like a fucking massacre in here…”
That statement forces me to crack open an eye and I groan too. I’m thinking we should check out before the chambermaid comes to clean the room and sees the mess we’ve made. It’s pretty much contained to the bed, but…there are blood stains, little spatters from where the razor had fallen, smeared prints from where our hands had pressed, a spilt glass of wine…mess…
Three weeks later and we’re standing outside my kitchen door, listening to the chatter going on in there. He’s grinning at me and gripping my hand tightly. We’re waiting for a pause in the conversation so we can burst in there and surprise them all. We crept in at 4am so absolutely no one knows we’re back, and we’ve got some news for them.
The appropriate moment comes and after a whispered ‘ready?’ from me, we push open the door and walk in. Shrieks and shouts echo around the room as we’re jumped upon by my friends and Jess and Ape stands looking at us, kinda stunned.
“When did…when did you get here?” she finally stutters out.
“This morning. Sit down, would you, we’ve got news.”
So they sit. And we tell them.
We checked out of that hotel pretty damn swiftly, believe me, not that we told them the reason why. We got into a cab and headed for Vegas, mainly because we still needed to organize some stuff before we could put our plans into action and we wanted a nice clean, (un-bloodstained room) to do that in. We checked, probably a bit stupidly, into the same hotel as our families were booked into before we realized that they might not have left yet. Damn…like we needed another reason to stay locked into a hotel room for days on end, huh? So we made our plans. We ran up a huge phone bill and a huge room service bill and lost a huge amount of money gambling right before we left to catch our plane.
We caught a plane to Finland. Yep, we had officially decided where we were going to live. We wanted a new start, and we had been living with my family and friends for almost two years - not officially, exactly, but Ville would come to me as soon as he finished work and wouldn’t leave again until he had to go back to his band - so Finland seems like the perfect place to start over.
We spent the next four days house-hunting before we found the perfect place that we then bought and moved into the very next day. It’s so incredible. This huge house in a pretty posh part of the city. Huge garden, high walls and gates and trees hiding the house from the road, six guest bedrooms, three bathrooms and an en suite for the master bedroom (which is fucking enormous). Seven bedrooms for the two of us seems a little excessive, doesn’t it? Well…for the time being, we figured they can be used for when my family or friends come to visit. The other reason, that we didn’t tell anyone, was that we want as many children as possible. Ville’s got his heart set on eight (I think he has a secret plan for a VonTrapp family singers/Sound of Music kinda thing…but I guess it’ll be the erm…ValoMargera singers, maybe), and whatever he wants is fine by me. How cute will little mini-Ville’s be?! I can’t fucking wait.
Anyway, we pretty much came back to tell my family I was moving and to get my things. So, after a few tears from April and an annoying amount of paperwork and fighting with Jess about what belonged to whom, my stuff had been shipped and Ville and I were ready to go. Just time for one more fuck in my bed, I think…
Aaaaaaaaaaway, I still DK, DO and it NH, which sucks, but hey, do does life, so whaddaya expect?
So, this time you got me telling the story. I’m not sure I’ll be able to do it quite as well as my little poet over there did, but I’ll give it my best shot. Nothing less than perfection will do this story justice.
This story…well, it started about three days ago, when Ville and I decided to make things officially official. See, we got those tattoo bands on our fingers. We became pretty much inseparable. People were constantly asking if the tattoos meant we were married, if we were living together, if we had any plans for the future but, until about three days ago, our only plan was to be together forever.
We were lying in bed, not talking, not doing anything really. It was first thing in the morning, way too early to get up - we were just…together. We got up eventually, still not saying anything, dragging ourselves across the corridor to the bathroom for a shower (doing the darting across the hall naked routine that we do every morning - we should really just buy bathrobes or something, but that would be far less exciting), stepping under the jets, washing our hair, brushing our teeth, getting dressed, heading down for food. We still hadn’t said a word.
We walked into the kitchen. My friends were already in there with April. April was tidying out a cupboard, my friends were drinking chocolate milkshakes and throwing fruit loops at one another. Ville shuffled straight to the coffee machine, poured us a cup each, I headed for the cereal then the fridge, passing him the milk without looking while he handed me two spoons from the drawer beside him. It was like a well practiced factory production line. We turned at the same time, him putting down a coffee at my place, me putting down a bowl of cereal in front of him, sat down and raised spoons full of milk and cereal to our mouths.
“What?” we asked at the same time, realizing that everyone in the kitchen was staring at us.
I think it was then that we realized how perfect this is. Me and Ville. We had always thought we were perfect, of course, but right then we got just how perfect. We were sitting in the yard later on that day while Ville smoked his way through a pack or two of cigarettes - bet he left a whole lot of smoking out of his story, huh? That’d be his guilty conscience from having promised me he’d smoke less conveniently leaving the billion fags he got through out, I guess - when we finally talked about it.
“Bam?”
“Yeah?”
“Earlier…what happened at breakfast and what they all said…it kinda got me thinking about things…”
“Yeah, me too.”
I didn’t tell you that, did I? After the “what?” we were teased about being like an old married couple for a good ten minutes until Ape told them to put a lid on it.
“…what were you thinking?”
“I want to marry you.”
Well, you know me. I’m not quite so romantic and good with words as my lover. What I wanted to say was that I adore him, that I want to spend the rest of my life right by his side, that I want to have a family with him, live with him, grow old with him, take my last breath with him, but if I had tried to say any of that out loud, it would have gone weird and I’d have said I’d adore to die beside him or some such un-romanticness.
My slightly abrupt statement seemed to get those general points across though. A beautiful smile spread across his face.
“Me too…” he whispered.
So, there it was. What followed after was two days of us being in the weird state of being stressed and yet completely blissful while we arranged a quickie-wedding in Vegas. After we had decided to get married, we ran indoors and started making phone calls. We had said over and over again that we had no plans to get married in the near future, so we decided to keep the wedding a total secret, even from the guests. As luck would have it, it was our anniversary three days after we decided - that’s today, for all you people who weren’t paying attention earlier - so we decided we could plan a trip for everyone to Vegas. Five years is a pretty significant anniversary after all, so we didn’t think they’d think it too strange. We invited the band, my friends and our parents and brothers to Vegas, organized them flights, paid for everyone’s flights and accommodation and set about planning the actual wedding.
Neither of us had said anything, but last time we were in Vegas, at the end of that amazing road trip, we had both noticed a few chapels we could get married at. So we went on line, checked them all out, picked the best and booked it there and then. All that remained was to buy wedding rings without causing a stir. We managed that too though and then it was all set. People wondered, I’m sure, why we were walking around in a state of pure blissfulness, unable to keep our hands off one another even more so than usual, but we didn’t care.
We got to Vegas first thing this morning and got everyone checked into a hotel. Ville and I didn’t check in, having booked into a rather familiar hotel for our wedding night, but no one seemed to notice. I’m sure they did notice though, when Ville and I disappeared for a bit before dinner and returned wearing suits and shirts. Nothing too dressy - I mean, Ville wears a suit a lot anyway, but I think seeing me in one was a bit confusing for them - but we wanted to look good for later this evening.
We’re sitting in the restaurant now. We asked for a private room, and luckily, with the number of people we have here, they let us have one. Means that when we tell them, we don’t have to worry about people overhearing and ruining things with press and whatever. We can actually see the chapel where we’re getting married from the window and I can feel Ville buzzing with excitement beside me. He keeps patting his pocket to check the rings are there, kissing my cheek, whispering into my ear that he can’t wait. Everyone’s finished their desserts now and I guess its time for my little announcement. I’m wondering how best to interrupt the many different conversations around me when Rake helps out a bit. Inadvertently, of course.
“Speech!”
Everyone goes silent, and turns to look at us.
“Okay…” I begin. Ville hears the shake in my voice and squeezes my knee. “I guess you’re probably wondering why we bothered to fly you all out here for our anniversary, but…well, we’ve got some news…”
I let that silence hang in the air for a few seconds, just because I’m an evil bastard like that.
“We brought you all here because…we’re getting married in about twenty minutes…”
Okay, very glad about the private room! People are shrieking and jumping up and down, our parents are crying and so is Ville. I’m having trouble holding back the sobs myself. I love our friends and family so damn much sometimes. I pull Ville onto my knee and he straddles my lap instantly. I can feel his heart pounding against my chest as he clings to me. Fifteen minutes fly by and soon we’re paying the bill, running out of the door and across the road to the chapel.
Ville seems to have perked up a bit and now he just can’t stop grinning. I pull him close and kiss him slowly and deeply while we wait for the wedding taking place in there to finish and then…well, it’s our turn, isn’t it?
The service is…well, perfect, apart from the fact that on the one hand, I never wanted it to end - I just wanted to be marrying Ville Valo for the rest of my life - and on the other hand, it couldn’t finish quick enough so I could be his husband. Jess and Jesse stepped forwards with the rings we had given them outside, we slid them onto one another’s fingers and then…well, holy fuck, I’m married to Ville!
We laugh as our lips break apart after a rather deep kiss and our friends fly towards us. Many drinks are consumed when we get back to their hotel, Ape and Ville’s mom still haven’t stopped sniffling away in the corner.
“Bam…?”
“Yes angel?”
“Can we go soon?”
I turn to him with a bit of a pout. I was kinda enjoying the party! And I was enjoying the fact that we’re pissing off the bartender and the other guests in the hotel bar even more.
“Why?”
“Because…if we don’t go soon, we won’t get to the hotel until after midnight and I want us to fuck on our wedding night…”
I jump up, grab his hand, drag him out of the bar shouting our goodbye’s to our friends and families and telling them we’ll see them sometime soon - we haven’t really decided when we’re going home yet - and out to the limo that’s been waiting for us for the last hour and a half. That’s gonna be one hell of a bill…
The limo is going as fast as it can, really, but I can see Ville getting more and more edgy. It’s almost half eleven and, last time I asked the driver, he thought we’d get to the hotel by ten to midnight at the earliest. Even if we did get there at ten to, there’s no way we’d be able to fuck before midnight. So I lean forwards, slide up the partition between us and the driver and sit myself on Ville’s lap.
“This wasn’t really what I had in mind for my wedding night you know…” he whispers as I get our pants out of the way.
“I know babe, I’m sorry…”
“Don’t be...fucking in a limo…so rock star…why have I never done it before?”
“Don’t know babe…score it off your list,” I smirk as I impale myself on him. I know that screen is supposed to be soundproof, but there is no way in HELL that the driver didn’t hear the screams coming from us for the next twenty five minutes. Turns out, when we’d finished and caught our breath and pulled our pants up, we’d been stopped outside the hotel for about ten minutes…ooops.
So, after some blushing and over-tipping the driver hugely, we got inside and practically skipped towards the reception desk. I picked the room this time, and I think I did a pretty good job. I was considering getting the same room as we had last time we stayed here - all goth and sexy as hell - but then this one caught my eye. I get the keys and drag Ville to Room 69 - hehehe, good number - and let him in.
“Jesus Christ Bam!”
The look on his face is stunning, to be honest with you. He looks like a kid at Christmas. And no, I didn’t get us the Santa’s grotto room. That’s just wrong. I did, however, get us the, and I quote from the website, ‘french boudoir fit for Lestat himself’. I will admit to never having actually read the books obsessively like Ville has, but I did catch the movie, so I assumed that was a good thing. It is a gorgeous room - imagine reds and golds and silks and fancy stuff I don’t even know the proper names for and antique-y looking furniture and lace and satin and you’re probably pretty close. But even through all that glamour, there is a definite touch of…erm…I dunno…darkness, I guess, about it. Like…somewhere Lestat might live!
“Hey, you know what this is like? I swear, it’s like ‘Interview with a Vampire’ crossed with ‘Queen of the Damned’!”
See, that’s why we’re a perfect couple! He just…gets stuff! Right away, without me having to ramble on, making myself sound like an idiot. The slight downside to this room, I discover, is that what follows is a twenty minute lecture on the entire series of Anne Rice books and then the movies but it’s okay really, coz the whole time he was talking, he wasn’t exactly objecting to me stripping him and pushing him back onto the bed.
“…and you just know that Louis and Lestat are so into each other!”
The other thing that makes us so perfect? Our innate ability to find the homosexuality in just about anything. He’s the only other person I know who saw the sexual tension between Spike and Giles that whole time Spike was chained in Giles’ bathtub. And I swear he spent the whole of Lord of the Rings giggling every time Aragorn and Legolas so much as looked in the general direction of one another. True though…they were soooooo doing it while the rest of the fellowship was asleep.
That’s all besides the point. The point is, that now I have my lover…actually, my husband - fuck that sounds amazing! - beneath me on the bed, totally naked and completely beautiful as he smiles up at me, realizing I think, that he was rambling a bit before and that I probably didn’t listen to a word of it. I just lower my lips to his and kiss him.
Outside in the limo, that was great, but this…this is going to be even better. He’s tugging a bit at my shirt as I move my lips down his neck but he stops the second I meet a nipple, dropping his head back and moaning loudly. I suck lightly, feeling his flesh harden in my mouth, biting suddenly and causing his thin frame to jerk beneath my weight. His breathing has deepened dramatically, he’s gasping for air and clutching at me as I move further down to kiss the smooth skin all the way to his impressive erection.
Taking his head into my mouth, he gasps so hard it almost sounds painful. What is painful, however, is the way he tangles his fingers through my hair and pulls me back up to his lips. He flips us over, sits up on my stomach and smirks before he stretches out over me, his cock brushing my lips, smearing them with the sweetest tasting precum.
Giving in with no fight whatsoever, I open my mouth and he pushes his hips forwards. I slide my hands up his legs to hold his hips in a vague attempt to control him and he shivers violently above me. Slowly, carefully, he begins to thrust, pushing his hips into my mouth and moaning continuously, building his rythym up while I suck hard until he’s shuddering and coming deep down my throat in hot spurts that seem to last forever.
He moves back down my body and snuggles into me, pressing his legs to my sides and twisting his hands through my hair. He seems content to just stay like that for a bit so I’m not gonna complain. He looks up at me after a few minutes and grins.
“What?” I ask.
“…we got married, baby…”
“Yeah, we did,” I laugh. “So what happens next?”
“Next? Well, I wanted you to make love to me…” he smirks.
“Yeah, I know what happens next…I meant…when we leave here.”
“We…go home.”
“Where’s home?”
I guess we hadn’t entirely thought things through. We decided we needed to talk, so Ville got up and pulled me through to the bathroom, ran us a bath and went and got the bottle of champagne from the mini-bar.
“Okay,” he says once he’s settled in my arms in the bubbles. “Talk.”
I surprise myself by being able to get what I want to say across to him quite eloquently. He would have understood if I had said it all in my usual Bam fashion, of course, but it was nice to sound a bit graceful for once. We talked for ages, until the bubbles disappeared and the water started to turn cold. By the time we climbed out of the tub, wrapped fluffy towels around our waists and I had sat him on the counter we had decided pretty much everything we needed to. And probably some things we didn’t need to, like what the dog we’re gonna get will be called, but we decided them anyway. I smile to myself as I head back into the bedroom to get that cut throat razor I had been told I could use. How did my life get so good, huh?
He wraps his legs around my waist when I’m done and I carry him back to the bed, still chattering away about how he wants a bath tub just like that one in the bathroom - one of those cool old fashioned ones with feet that’s big enough to fit about 4 people in - and how he really wants a velvet coat, which has nothing to do with the room or anything, he apparently just decided he had to tell me, but what finally gets my complete attention is when he says,
“…but what I want most of all is for my husband to make love to me…”
Well, who could resist? Hearing him call me his husband made me stop dead in my tracks and stare at his pretty face. He catches my lips in a sweet kiss and I place him down gently on the bed, crawling over him and…well, making love to him. Slowly, sweetly, with tenderness and every little bit of love and devotion I can find. He’s weeping softly as he comes between our bodies, sitting up a bit to nuzzle into my neck as I continue to move inside him. I raise an arm from propping me up to wrap round his back, holding him as close as I can. He breathes a “more” into my ear, unwinding a leg from around my waist and using his foot to push himself off the mattress. Even his own hips pushing into me doesn’t seem to be enough for him, as he whines another “more!” into my ear. I push him back onto the mattress, untangle his arms from around me, kneeling up and lifting his hips, spreading his legs further. To my unbelievable surprise, and his as well, I manage to make him come all over again as I pound into him. His cries of “more!” stop, only to be replaced with “I love you’s” as I take him closer and closer to his release. He’s so breathtaking as he lies there, sweat slicked and flushed, chest heaving, eyes shut, lips parted and swollen, his wedding ring glinting in the dim lights of the room as his hand lies on his chest. We come together, me collapsing into his arms, fucking exhausted, him practically unable to move as he tries to catch his breath.
We fell asleep like that, waking up in exactly the same position nearly 10 hours later. Well, I wake up nearly 10 hours later. Turns out Ville’s been awake for ages.
“Didn’t want to wake you…so beautiful…” he murmurs in between light kisses. We do leave the hotel room this time, going to find breakfast. We get in a cab and head for the nearest town and while we’re there, we get to tell the first group of people that we’re married - these kids who come up to us to ask me to sign their skateboards and aren’t shy about asking what the rings on our fingers are for. We get just the response we were hoping for - huge smiles and congratulations. Which made us all happy again - not that we ever stopped being happy, but…y’know…even more happy - and us being happy = us being horny, so…back to the hotel we go…
Lying in bed about two hours later, Ville singing quietly to me, drawing patterns on my chest, I had a little bit of an idea… The whole vampire Lestat thing had got me thinking. The fact that he was singing ‘join me in death…’ into my ear while his neck was inches from my face helped, I think. I decided to save it for later though. Give me time to plan things a little.
I sent Ville for a bath later that evening while I ordered us room service for dinner. Dinner, including a couple of bottles of blood red wine, arrived, we ate, we drank, we laughed and talked, I convinced him of my plan - didn’t take too much effort since wine and candles convince him of just about anything - and he even proclaimed it ‘fucking unbelievably perfectly hot!’ Good enough for me!
We sent the dinner stuff back, ordered some more wine and waited impatiently for it to arrive. Didn’t want to be interrupted once we got started, did we? We turned off the lights, lit all the candles, got some things together, removed unnecessary clothing and moved over to the bed. I smile to myself as I notice that, at some point, he had slicked on eyeliner and lip balm, making his lips shimmer in the candle glow and his green eyes all the more enticing. We kneel on the mattress facing each other and both lean forwards at the same time.
Our lips meet briefly, eyes staying open as we kiss, pulling away to kiss each others necks, shoulders, chests, stroking skin with fingertips, hands drifting down to grasp each other’s cocks and pumping slowly, just for a few seconds. Once we’re suitably turned on, I reach for one of those items I had to go find and Ville reclines on the bed.
I move in between his legs and hand him the blade first. He sits up a bit, takes it from me and pulls my left palm towards him. He looks up at me to check it’s still okay and smiles as I nod. He moves the blade swiftly across my palm and a crimson line appears instantly. Weirdly, it doesn’t hurt and my only gasp comes when his tongue darts out and licks some blood from the end of the cut, moaning as he swallows. I take the blade from him and do the same to his right palm. Seconds later, we’re looking at one another, palms upturned and almost dripping with blood. Almost in slow motion, he lies back, spreading his legs further and I move forwards to place my tip at his entrance.
Our hands meet, fingers interlocking, blood still warm between our joined palms, at the exact second I push my dick into his body. The razor falls from my hand onto the pillow just above his shoulder and I watch a drop of blood splatter from the blade onto his pale skin. Beautiful. I lower my head and suck the blood off, moving my lips to his neck.
“Uuuuhnnn…harder Bam!” he moans, and I know he’s not talking about the deep rocking of my hips. I do suck harder, determined to leave a bruise on his milky skin, but as I do so, I get another one of my ideas. I look down at him, eyes closed and gasping beneath me, and pick up that blade again. One quick movement and a brief scream from my lover and it’s done.
A thin diagonal line of crimson on his shoulder, as close to his neck as I could get without being too dangerous, the blood running and dripping onto the pillow behind him. What a damn waste. I move my lips to the cut, sucking on the blood, nipping at his skin a bit more with my teeth, lapping up the thin trails of red that run from the wound.
His hand flies up to hold the back of my head to him, hips jerking up into mine now, desperately trying to rub his neglected erection against my stomach as he presses us as close together as he can.
The rest of the night passes in a blur of blood and wine and making love and its wonderful. A damn good idea, even if I say so myself. And the fact that we were in a room Ville had decided was ‘totally vampire-sexy’ made it so much more incredible.
When we woke up - bodies still joined and palms still intertwined - well, my head was pounding. I had lost count of how many bottles of wine we had consumed. Ville was the one brave enough to open his eyes first and he groaned.
“Ohhhh…it’s like a fucking massacre in here…”
That statement forces me to crack open an eye and I groan too. I’m thinking we should check out before the chambermaid comes to clean the room and sees the mess we’ve made. It’s pretty much contained to the bed, but…there are blood stains, little spatters from where the razor had fallen, smeared prints from where our hands had pressed, a spilt glass of wine…mess…
Three weeks later and we’re standing outside my kitchen door, listening to the chatter going on in there. He’s grinning at me and gripping my hand tightly. We’re waiting for a pause in the conversation so we can burst in there and surprise them all. We crept in at 4am so absolutely no one knows we’re back, and we’ve got some news for them.
The appropriate moment comes and after a whispered ‘ready?’ from me, we push open the door and walk in. Shrieks and shouts echo around the room as we’re jumped upon by my friends and Jess and Ape stands looking at us, kinda stunned.
“When did…when did you get here?” she finally stutters out.
“This morning. Sit down, would you, we’ve got news.”
So they sit. And we tell them.
We checked out of that hotel pretty damn swiftly, believe me, not that we told them the reason why. We got into a cab and headed for Vegas, mainly because we still needed to organize some stuff before we could put our plans into action and we wanted a nice clean, (un-bloodstained room) to do that in. We checked, probably a bit stupidly, into the same hotel as our families were booked into before we realized that they might not have left yet. Damn…like we needed another reason to stay locked into a hotel room for days on end, huh? So we made our plans. We ran up a huge phone bill and a huge room service bill and lost a huge amount of money gambling right before we left to catch our plane.
We caught a plane to Finland. Yep, we had officially decided where we were going to live. We wanted a new start, and we had been living with my family and friends for almost two years - not officially, exactly, but Ville would come to me as soon as he finished work and wouldn’t leave again until he had to go back to his band - so Finland seems like the perfect place to start over.
We spent the next four days house-hunting before we found the perfect place that we then bought and moved into the very next day. It’s so incredible. This huge house in a pretty posh part of the city. Huge garden, high walls and gates and trees hiding the house from the road, six guest bedrooms, three bathrooms and an en suite for the master bedroom (which is fucking enormous). Seven bedrooms for the two of us seems a little excessive, doesn’t it? Well…for the time being, we figured they can be used for when my family or friends come to visit. The other reason, that we didn’t tell anyone, was that we want as many children as possible. Ville’s got his heart set on eight (I think he has a secret plan for a VonTrapp family singers/Sound of Music kinda thing…but I guess it’ll be the erm…ValoMargera singers, maybe), and whatever he wants is fine by me. How cute will little mini-Ville’s be?! I can’t fucking wait.
Anyway, we pretty much came back to tell my family I was moving and to get my things. So, after a few tears from April and an annoying amount of paperwork and fighting with Jess about what belonged to whom, my stuff had been shipped and Ville and I were ready to go. Just time for one more fuck in my bed, I think…