draculaaah
in
__vam
Fic: The Heartless - Chapter One
Title: The Heartless
Author:draculaaah
Rating: PG-13
Pairing: Ville and Bam
Summary: AU story of how Ville and Bam met, around 1998-ish(?) - Bam goes on vacation to Finland to get away from his controlling girlfriend and meets a man named Ville after previously seeing him at a poetry reading. They realize through their obvious differences, that they are actually very much the same, and develop a strong bond in the short time frame that Bam is there.
Disclaimer: This is obviously *not* how they both met, this is just a little idea I got from a dream one night. None of this happened, or will happen, I'm just having fun.
Warnings: I'm not quite sure what's going to happen in this story because it's not very planned out, but expect lots of swearing, alcohol and other drug use, violence, some angst, and probably inaccurate location mix-up around Helsinki and made up areas because I'm a lazy fuck and I was never good at geography. Basically, prepare yourself for anything!
Authors Notes: Hi! I've posted a story before, but it was just a oneshot, and that was quite a long time ago last year. Anyway, I haven't written much before this, if at all. I developed a huge crippling fear of failure, and so writing was impossible without sending me straight into panic-mode, which was very bad because writing is everything to me. So I apologize if my writing is a little 'bleh' right now -- I'm still trying to get back into the swing of things, so it may be a little rough start. I promise it will get better, give me a chance :) I hope you enjoy this first chapter! I'll try to post frequently.
"Bam, where the FUCK are you?!" was all that was ringing through his ears as he lay in his cheap hotel bed, staring up at the cieling in both hilarity and annoyance. He didn't want to be answering phone calls, that was the point of leaving, to get the fuck away. But his childish behavior got the best of him, and he finally gave in and dialed his girlfriend's number. He knew she'd explode soon as she answered, so he held the phone away from his ear and waited.
Surely enough, the ring went through, and he could hear her answer and yell into the phone. He sat there, letting her go off for a while without answering, and soon she quieted down once she realized he wasn't saying a word.
"Bam?"
"Are you done yelling?" he asked, raising his eyebrows. She didn't say anything at first, and let out a loud, aggravated 'sigh'.
"I'm in Finland."
Silence.
"Fuck off." She didn't believe him.
"I'm serious, I'm in Finland," he said again through giggles.
When he heard her make some sort of muffled screech, he had to cover his mouth to refrain from laughing into the phone.
"You think this is funny?!"
He snorted, "Yeah,"
"I said we should take a break, I didn't say you should leave the fucking COUNTRY."
"Well how the fuck am I supposed to get a break with you barging through my front door all the god damned time!?"
They'd gotten in a fight before he left, again. Their fights were very frequent, agreements short lived, and Bam was getting sick and tired of being nagged at all the fucking time. He did what she asked, he bought her nice things, he behaved for her family, he even fucking went to go get his nails done with her because her friends weren't available. If that's not devotion, then Bam didn't know the fucking meaning of the word.
Everything was great at first. He felt like he was falling inlove, but after a while he began to feel more like her pet than her boyfriend. And maybe that's how she begun to see him. As someone she could boss around and get shit from.
Their fighting reached a breaking point and Bam couldn't get away from the bitch unless he got out of the country altogether, and so that's what he did.
Bam rolled his eyes - he wasn't even following what she said anymore, just let her voice drone into this annoying, high pitched mess of sounds. As always.
"Fucking hell," he muttered.
"Wh-"
she couldn't even finish her sentence-- he took the phone and dropped it in the toilet, pushing down the handle with his foot and watching it swirl around in the water. He didn't stay to see if it would actually go down. He grabbed the coat he bought at the airport and his hotel keys, and angrily headed for the door and to a flight of stairs.
He'd gotten out of the hotel before he was able to get his coat on. Cursing underneath his breath, he shoved the keys in his jeans pocket and quickly slipped on the thick coat, zipping it up to his nose so that his face didn't fucking freeze off, and then headed down the sidewalk.
"Yeah, well fuck you very much, I'm in fucking Finland and you're not," he mumbled, peering around the darkened city.
There weren't very many people out wandering around. They were probably all inside, tucking their kids in bed and sipping hot cocoa, away from the harsh cold beyond their doorsteps. He couldn't blame them - if he lived in Finland all his life, he'd be sick of the harsh winters too.
Finland wasn't so bad though, despite the cold. It was pretty beautiful and mysterious, he thought. And it was cool how he could be in a group of people and still be entirely alone because of the language barrier.
Mostly, he was just glad to be out of there, away from his psycho bitch of a girlfriend. He didn't need to be there for anyone else, he didn't need to impress a single damned person by doing something stupid or dangerous. He could think for himself, something he never took the time to do.
He let out a long sigh, teeth chattering and lips trembling, trying to scan the area for some sort of bar. Everything was in Finnish (surprise!) so he couldn't read any of the signs he passed by. All he wanted to do was go have a few thousand drinks and forget everything for a while, and he didn't want to talk to anyone. He just wasn't in the mood to deal with another person, especially when trying to talk to someone who actually didn't mind foreigners would be a hit or miss situation.
From the corner of his eye he spotted a tiny group of people laughing amongst themselves, and he turned to watch them stumble out of some tiny building. A smile creeped up on his face -- he knew drunk people when he saw them, and where there were drunk people, there were bars.
Being a foreigner wouldn't be so hard after all, would it?
He looked around for a moment before crossing the street, trying not to skip in happiness on the way there, and politely pushed passed a few people to get to the doors.
First was the smell--it was musky and dark, a stark contrast from the usual sweat and vomit at the bars he was used to. And looking around, he could tell that it was barely a bar. It was more of a tiny coffee shop sort of thing. The light was dim and created a really laid back atmosphere, along with the purple walls and the black leather furniture. It was pretty nice, he had to admit, even if it wasn't exactly what he was looking for.
He contemplated leaving, though he doubted he'd have any luck finding something better on his own, so he shrugged and made his way inside.
There was elevated flooring at the left with a mic and a stool, and he could see someone situating themselves with a book. He watched him from the corner of his eye as he sat at a stool by the bar, waiting for the bartender to get to him. He looked back over at the little stage, wondering what was going on.
"Hyvää iltaa."
"Huh?" Bam turned to the bar, coming face to face with the bartender. He froze up--he'd forgotten that he was in Finland for a moment, and that he knew absolutely no basic phrases or anything at all.
The bartender raised a brow at him and sighed, appearing quite annoyed that he had to deal with a foreigner at this time of night. He seemed to scan his mind for something to say, and then looked back up Bam,
"Good evening, I said,"
Bam gave him a childish grin, and at first he wasn't having it, but he gave in and smiled back, though reluctantly. Bam scratched the back of his head, and decided to skip the bullshit and just ask for a drink instead of confusing him with a bunch of talk.
"Whiskey?"
The bartender looked thankful that he wasn't in for a chat, and nodded with relief before going to get his alcohol.
Bam watched him, and then stretched his back and groaned, unzipping his jacket and setting it on the counter. He was glad to be here, he thought. It was a nice change, and maybe he could learn a bit of Finnish before he left? He'd always wanted to learn a language but was too damn lazy to ever do it. But he doubted he'd be able to get himself passed a simple 'hello' and 'goodbye'.
Actually, he should probably start learning all the names for alcohol.
He had his drink faster than he expected, and he gave the guy a quick thanks before taking a long chug out of the glass. He welcomed the slight sting, warming his throat and his insides, relieving him of his day.
After a few drinks, he turned his attention to the little stage - people would come up and speak a few lines of something and everyone would clap quietly (or not at all) and let the next person come up. He had absolutely no fucking idea what the hell was going on. It was a little weird, actually, to be watching and listening to all of this, not understanding a single word. The only foreigner in a weird, jazzy sort of Finnish cafe/bar/thing.
The bartender said something behind him a few times, only for Bam to then realize he was talking to him.
"I'm sorry, what?" he asked, turning to look at him.
"Poems," the bartender said, nodding, "We have people speak poems."
Bam held back a mocking laugh and pressed his lips in a tight line, nodding. The bartender looked as though he felt the same way, and he leaned in close with a sly smile,
"You're not missing anything, it's all a lot of bullshit," he said quietly.
Bam laughed at that, nodding, and spun the drink around slowly on the table, watching the wet rings smear, "It usually is, yeah,"
The bartender winked at him and continued wiping the tables with the cloth.
Bam's smile slowly faded as he redirected his attention back at the stage. The other guy finished and everyone seemed to like it much better than the others, but still, no one really seemed to care about any of it. He shrugged, neutral about the entire situation, and knocked back a few more glasses, listening to people speak in their language, appreciating, atleast, some of their voices. It was soothing to hear someone talk when you couldn't understand anything, because it gave you nothing to think about. You just listened to their voice and let the alcohol carry you away.
After a few minutes, the small murmuring across the room quieted down until it was completely silent, which was a little odd. In a bit of a drunken haze, Bam looked up from his half-empty glass of whiskey and turned around, noticing everyones attention was to the stage. He closed his eyes for a moment before spinning in his chair and looking up as well.
There was a man standing at the corner of the stage, tall, skinny, and pale, slouched over as he talked to someone down beside him. He nodded and stood straight now, walking slowly up to the center of the floor, holding a glass of whiskey in one hand and a cigarette in the other. Curly brown hair hung in his eyes and flowed past his shoulders, and long fingers wrapped around the microphone stand after he put the cigarette in his mouth. There is a stool there, and he contemplated sitting on it, but instead scoots it up and sets his glass on it. He flipped his hair back with his hands, revealing a little sass to his otherwise elegant and calm air.
His piercing green eyes scanned the room and he smiled ever so slightly, in a mixture of excitement and nervousness, but his face quickly returned to that straight-faced, melancholy gaze.
Bam's breath caught in his throat as he watched him stand there, taking one last drag of his cigarette as he put his red lips up to the microphone. He didn't say a word just yet. Closing his eyes, he drifted off somewhere else in his mind, and then begun to speak.
His voice was much deeper than Bam anticipated, but fit him very well. Everything was a little blurred but he didn't have to fight to focus on him speaking into the mic, in fact he would have to fight to tear his eyes away from the man--he was entirely transfixed on his beauty, how his dark hair contrasted against his pale, almost transleucent skin. How his eyes slanted upward only slightly, his tiny nose pointed at the tip, and his lips were full and cherry red. He was very feminine and very masculine at the same time, and it did a lot to confuse the hell out of Bam, but he didn't care. He just watched him as his words appeared to carry him away into another world, how he lost himself in his speech, as though everyone else ceased to exist only for that moment that he recited his poem.
Bam had been pretty apathetic about the entire thing, but suddenly wished he could understand what he was saying, but again, he didn't speak a lick of Finnish. So he ignored that problem and instead focused on his deep, raggedy voice, how his voice rose and fell in pitch, how his words slurred together at moments, how he leaned into the microphone stand and poured his soul into the tiny, dim room in front of him.
He was lost in himself, and Bam was lost in him. They were both completely gone, forgetting their own existence, and so they were connected through that, on some level.
After a few moments, the dark-haired Finn finished his poem. He kept his eyes closed for a moment longer, letting the words sink in, before he opened those pale green eyes to reconnect to the physical world once again. It seemed to throw him off for a moment, the sudden switch from the quiet solitude of his mind to the bar of those staring intently at him, but he brought himself back together and smiled gently at those watching him. A quiet ripple of clapping and whistling greeted him off stage as he did a little thankful head-bob, picking his glass of whiskey back up from the stool and drinking it all in one go.
Bam watched him walk around a few people and wave at some, speaking with them for a few moments, until he looked up and made sudden eye contact with him. Bam froze up and quickly fixed his gaze on something else, trying to appear as conspicuous as possible about it, taking another long gulp of whiskey. When he looked back, he saw that he'd saundered back into the darkness of the other side of the bar, at this little couch where he'd left a notebook and a long trench coat. He'd already forgotten Bam.
He shook his head at that, setting his glass down and rubbing his eyes. Why was he being such a fucking girl? This was just some fucking guy who read a poem and then went back to his table, just like everyone else had done. Not special at all.
Bam peeked back up at him and scoffed at the women who had taken to giggling over him. The man seemed very polite, smiling and nodding at them, apparently cracking a joke or two.
He sighed, turning around to face the bar yet again, finishing his glass and resting his heavy head in his hands. He was drunk, he reasoned, and wouldn't be thinking all of this sentimental bullshit if he hadn't been drinking. Before he goes up to the guy and says something really fucking stupid, he better collect himself and go back to the crap hotel. Though he wasn't sure how long the man would be here, and to be honest, he didn't want to leave. He wanted to stare at him from a distance like a fucking shy little schoolgirl.
Bam groaned, zipped up his coat, and slapped some money down on the counter for the bartender. He spun back around in his chair to get one last glance of the beautiful man.
He tried to convince himself that he was jealous of him for being surrounded by giggling women, but he knew that wasn't true. He was jealous of the women for being in the presence of such a beautiful man.
Bam mentally slapped himself across the face for being such a fucking drunk pussy, and then hurried across the bar and out into the freezing hell of a city.
Author:draculaaah
Rating: PG-13
Pairing: Ville and Bam
Summary: AU story of how Ville and Bam met, around 1998-ish(?) - Bam goes on vacation to Finland to get away from his controlling girlfriend and meets a man named Ville after previously seeing him at a poetry reading. They realize through their obvious differences, that they are actually very much the same, and develop a strong bond in the short time frame that Bam is there.
Disclaimer: This is obviously *not* how they both met, this is just a little idea I got from a dream one night. None of this happened, or will happen, I'm just having fun.
Warnings: I'm not quite sure what's going to happen in this story because it's not very planned out, but expect lots of swearing, alcohol and other drug use, violence, some angst, and probably inaccurate location mix-up around Helsinki and made up areas because I'm a lazy fuck and I was never good at geography. Basically, prepare yourself for anything!
Authors Notes: Hi! I've posted a story before, but it was just a oneshot, and that was quite a long time ago last year. Anyway, I haven't written much before this, if at all. I developed a huge crippling fear of failure, and so writing was impossible without sending me straight into panic-mode, which was very bad because writing is everything to me. So I apologize if my writing is a little 'bleh' right now -- I'm still trying to get back into the swing of things, so it may be a little rough start. I promise it will get better, give me a chance :) I hope you enjoy this first chapter! I'll try to post frequently.
"Bam, where the FUCK are you?!" was all that was ringing through his ears as he lay in his cheap hotel bed, staring up at the cieling in both hilarity and annoyance. He didn't want to be answering phone calls, that was the point of leaving, to get the fuck away. But his childish behavior got the best of him, and he finally gave in and dialed his girlfriend's number. He knew she'd explode soon as she answered, so he held the phone away from his ear and waited.
Surely enough, the ring went through, and he could hear her answer and yell into the phone. He sat there, letting her go off for a while without answering, and soon she quieted down once she realized he wasn't saying a word.
"Bam?"
"Are you done yelling?" he asked, raising his eyebrows. She didn't say anything at first, and let out a loud, aggravated 'sigh'.
"I'm in Finland."
Silence.
"Fuck off." She didn't believe him.
"I'm serious, I'm in Finland," he said again through giggles.
When he heard her make some sort of muffled screech, he had to cover his mouth to refrain from laughing into the phone.
"You think this is funny?!"
He snorted, "Yeah,"
"I said we should take a break, I didn't say you should leave the fucking COUNTRY."
"Well how the fuck am I supposed to get a break with you barging through my front door all the god damned time!?"
They'd gotten in a fight before he left, again. Their fights were very frequent, agreements short lived, and Bam was getting sick and tired of being nagged at all the fucking time. He did what she asked, he bought her nice things, he behaved for her family, he even fucking went to go get his nails done with her because her friends weren't available. If that's not devotion, then Bam didn't know the fucking meaning of the word.
Everything was great at first. He felt like he was falling inlove, but after a while he began to feel more like her pet than her boyfriend. And maybe that's how she begun to see him. As someone she could boss around and get shit from.
Their fighting reached a breaking point and Bam couldn't get away from the bitch unless he got out of the country altogether, and so that's what he did.
Bam rolled his eyes - he wasn't even following what she said anymore, just let her voice drone into this annoying, high pitched mess of sounds. As always.
"Fucking hell," he muttered.
"Wh-"
she couldn't even finish her sentence-- he took the phone and dropped it in the toilet, pushing down the handle with his foot and watching it swirl around in the water. He didn't stay to see if it would actually go down. He grabbed the coat he bought at the airport and his hotel keys, and angrily headed for the door and to a flight of stairs.
He'd gotten out of the hotel before he was able to get his coat on. Cursing underneath his breath, he shoved the keys in his jeans pocket and quickly slipped on the thick coat, zipping it up to his nose so that his face didn't fucking freeze off, and then headed down the sidewalk.
"Yeah, well fuck you very much, I'm in fucking Finland and you're not," he mumbled, peering around the darkened city.
There weren't very many people out wandering around. They were probably all inside, tucking their kids in bed and sipping hot cocoa, away from the harsh cold beyond their doorsteps. He couldn't blame them - if he lived in Finland all his life, he'd be sick of the harsh winters too.
Finland wasn't so bad though, despite the cold. It was pretty beautiful and mysterious, he thought. And it was cool how he could be in a group of people and still be entirely alone because of the language barrier.
Mostly, he was just glad to be out of there, away from his psycho bitch of a girlfriend. He didn't need to be there for anyone else, he didn't need to impress a single damned person by doing something stupid or dangerous. He could think for himself, something he never took the time to do.
He let out a long sigh, teeth chattering and lips trembling, trying to scan the area for some sort of bar. Everything was in Finnish (surprise!) so he couldn't read any of the signs he passed by. All he wanted to do was go have a few thousand drinks and forget everything for a while, and he didn't want to talk to anyone. He just wasn't in the mood to deal with another person, especially when trying to talk to someone who actually didn't mind foreigners would be a hit or miss situation.
From the corner of his eye he spotted a tiny group of people laughing amongst themselves, and he turned to watch them stumble out of some tiny building. A smile creeped up on his face -- he knew drunk people when he saw them, and where there were drunk people, there were bars.
Being a foreigner wouldn't be so hard after all, would it?
He looked around for a moment before crossing the street, trying not to skip in happiness on the way there, and politely pushed passed a few people to get to the doors.
First was the smell--it was musky and dark, a stark contrast from the usual sweat and vomit at the bars he was used to. And looking around, he could tell that it was barely a bar. It was more of a tiny coffee shop sort of thing. The light was dim and created a really laid back atmosphere, along with the purple walls and the black leather furniture. It was pretty nice, he had to admit, even if it wasn't exactly what he was looking for.
He contemplated leaving, though he doubted he'd have any luck finding something better on his own, so he shrugged and made his way inside.
There was elevated flooring at the left with a mic and a stool, and he could see someone situating themselves with a book. He watched him from the corner of his eye as he sat at a stool by the bar, waiting for the bartender to get to him. He looked back over at the little stage, wondering what was going on.
"Hyvää iltaa."
"Huh?" Bam turned to the bar, coming face to face with the bartender. He froze up--he'd forgotten that he was in Finland for a moment, and that he knew absolutely no basic phrases or anything at all.
The bartender raised a brow at him and sighed, appearing quite annoyed that he had to deal with a foreigner at this time of night. He seemed to scan his mind for something to say, and then looked back up Bam,
"Good evening, I said,"
Bam gave him a childish grin, and at first he wasn't having it, but he gave in and smiled back, though reluctantly. Bam scratched the back of his head, and decided to skip the bullshit and just ask for a drink instead of confusing him with a bunch of talk.
"Whiskey?"
The bartender looked thankful that he wasn't in for a chat, and nodded with relief before going to get his alcohol.
Bam watched him, and then stretched his back and groaned, unzipping his jacket and setting it on the counter. He was glad to be here, he thought. It was a nice change, and maybe he could learn a bit of Finnish before he left? He'd always wanted to learn a language but was too damn lazy to ever do it. But he doubted he'd be able to get himself passed a simple 'hello' and 'goodbye'.
Actually, he should probably start learning all the names for alcohol.
He had his drink faster than he expected, and he gave the guy a quick thanks before taking a long chug out of the glass. He welcomed the slight sting, warming his throat and his insides, relieving him of his day.
After a few drinks, he turned his attention to the little stage - people would come up and speak a few lines of something and everyone would clap quietly (or not at all) and let the next person come up. He had absolutely no fucking idea what the hell was going on. It was a little weird, actually, to be watching and listening to all of this, not understanding a single word. The only foreigner in a weird, jazzy sort of Finnish cafe/bar/thing.
The bartender said something behind him a few times, only for Bam to then realize he was talking to him.
"I'm sorry, what?" he asked, turning to look at him.
"Poems," the bartender said, nodding, "We have people speak poems."
Bam held back a mocking laugh and pressed his lips in a tight line, nodding. The bartender looked as though he felt the same way, and he leaned in close with a sly smile,
"You're not missing anything, it's all a lot of bullshit," he said quietly.
Bam laughed at that, nodding, and spun the drink around slowly on the table, watching the wet rings smear, "It usually is, yeah,"
The bartender winked at him and continued wiping the tables with the cloth.
Bam's smile slowly faded as he redirected his attention back at the stage. The other guy finished and everyone seemed to like it much better than the others, but still, no one really seemed to care about any of it. He shrugged, neutral about the entire situation, and knocked back a few more glasses, listening to people speak in their language, appreciating, atleast, some of their voices. It was soothing to hear someone talk when you couldn't understand anything, because it gave you nothing to think about. You just listened to their voice and let the alcohol carry you away.
After a few minutes, the small murmuring across the room quieted down until it was completely silent, which was a little odd. In a bit of a drunken haze, Bam looked up from his half-empty glass of whiskey and turned around, noticing everyones attention was to the stage. He closed his eyes for a moment before spinning in his chair and looking up as well.
There was a man standing at the corner of the stage, tall, skinny, and pale, slouched over as he talked to someone down beside him. He nodded and stood straight now, walking slowly up to the center of the floor, holding a glass of whiskey in one hand and a cigarette in the other. Curly brown hair hung in his eyes and flowed past his shoulders, and long fingers wrapped around the microphone stand after he put the cigarette in his mouth. There is a stool there, and he contemplated sitting on it, but instead scoots it up and sets his glass on it. He flipped his hair back with his hands, revealing a little sass to his otherwise elegant and calm air.
His piercing green eyes scanned the room and he smiled ever so slightly, in a mixture of excitement and nervousness, but his face quickly returned to that straight-faced, melancholy gaze.
Bam's breath caught in his throat as he watched him stand there, taking one last drag of his cigarette as he put his red lips up to the microphone. He didn't say a word just yet. Closing his eyes, he drifted off somewhere else in his mind, and then begun to speak.
His voice was much deeper than Bam anticipated, but fit him very well. Everything was a little blurred but he didn't have to fight to focus on him speaking into the mic, in fact he would have to fight to tear his eyes away from the man--he was entirely transfixed on his beauty, how his dark hair contrasted against his pale, almost transleucent skin. How his eyes slanted upward only slightly, his tiny nose pointed at the tip, and his lips were full and cherry red. He was very feminine and very masculine at the same time, and it did a lot to confuse the hell out of Bam, but he didn't care. He just watched him as his words appeared to carry him away into another world, how he lost himself in his speech, as though everyone else ceased to exist only for that moment that he recited his poem.
Bam had been pretty apathetic about the entire thing, but suddenly wished he could understand what he was saying, but again, he didn't speak a lick of Finnish. So he ignored that problem and instead focused on his deep, raggedy voice, how his voice rose and fell in pitch, how his words slurred together at moments, how he leaned into the microphone stand and poured his soul into the tiny, dim room in front of him.
He was lost in himself, and Bam was lost in him. They were both completely gone, forgetting their own existence, and so they were connected through that, on some level.
After a few moments, the dark-haired Finn finished his poem. He kept his eyes closed for a moment longer, letting the words sink in, before he opened those pale green eyes to reconnect to the physical world once again. It seemed to throw him off for a moment, the sudden switch from the quiet solitude of his mind to the bar of those staring intently at him, but he brought himself back together and smiled gently at those watching him. A quiet ripple of clapping and whistling greeted him off stage as he did a little thankful head-bob, picking his glass of whiskey back up from the stool and drinking it all in one go.
Bam watched him walk around a few people and wave at some, speaking with them for a few moments, until he looked up and made sudden eye contact with him. Bam froze up and quickly fixed his gaze on something else, trying to appear as conspicuous as possible about it, taking another long gulp of whiskey. When he looked back, he saw that he'd saundered back into the darkness of the other side of the bar, at this little couch where he'd left a notebook and a long trench coat. He'd already forgotten Bam.
He shook his head at that, setting his glass down and rubbing his eyes. Why was he being such a fucking girl? This was just some fucking guy who read a poem and then went back to his table, just like everyone else had done. Not special at all.
Bam peeked back up at him and scoffed at the women who had taken to giggling over him. The man seemed very polite, smiling and nodding at them, apparently cracking a joke or two.
He sighed, turning around to face the bar yet again, finishing his glass and resting his heavy head in his hands. He was drunk, he reasoned, and wouldn't be thinking all of this sentimental bullshit if he hadn't been drinking. Before he goes up to the guy and says something really fucking stupid, he better collect himself and go back to the crap hotel. Though he wasn't sure how long the man would be here, and to be honest, he didn't want to leave. He wanted to stare at him from a distance like a fucking shy little schoolgirl.
Bam groaned, zipped up his coat, and slapped some money down on the counter for the bartender. He spun back around in his chair to get one last glance of the beautiful man.
He tried to convince himself that he was jealous of him for being surrounded by giggling women, but he knew that wasn't true. He was jealous of the women for being in the presence of such a beautiful man.
Bam mentally slapped himself across the face for being such a fucking drunk pussy, and then hurried across the bar and out into the freezing hell of a city.