(no subject)
Chapter 5!
Title: Affixing Memories
Characters: Bam Margera/Ryan Dunn!past, Bam Margera/Ryan Dunn!new
Rating: R
Summary: This time Ryan didn't just walk away from a car crash with bruises and broken bones. He also lost his past and his love for the man who adored him.
Warnings: First Bam/Ryan, not beta'd, I don't own these boys, amnesia Ryan & other angst.
Chapter one - That Which was Lost
Chapter two - The Reunion of Fools
Chapter three - The Fool's Struggle
Chapter four - The Nameless Body
It was warm. Fluttering in and out of conciseness, his eyes not willing to accept the dawning of the day, the sun's fingers of stretching solar light breaking through the thick fabric and burning his unadjusted eyes. Frowning Ryan retreated into the promising familiar feeling of reach coolness of untouched blankets. While fleeing the warm, the nauseating feeling of building preparation Ryan ran his rolling body into another heat. Irritation began to boil from his raging beating heart to his now swelling hair facials. Twisting his legs through the clinging blankets, Ryan tried to elude the warmth to his side. Unable to free himself Ryan surrendered to the will of the hotel sheets. Resting his side of his head on a well-built frame and what felt like a nipple. Wait, when did blankets have muscles, abs, and nipples? Turning in a pained motion Ryan gently turned his stiff, sleep fleeting eyes to his side. Black, that was a fitting description of the soon to be dead human male nuzzled up to his body, molded against him like a second skin. The brushing sensation of cotton, heavy scented with cheap beers tickled Ryan into a heavy dosage of reality. Digits that felt like small slithering snakes caressed Ryan's hipbone in a drunken daze. Mumbles of morning breath that strongly resembled sour dirt much of that of a forgotten graveyard, it housing corpses buried not far enough into its thin soil.
Growing ill from the whispers of bad breath and the thought of another in his bed, who was not his inner self, his past Ryan, Ryan began slowing twisting his body. His skin was tickled by the coarse cold sheets across his goose-flesh skin, the sheets had stayed cold and winter nipped when two bodies were close enough to be merged into one being, they remained seemingly caked in snow when Ryan was radiating waves of invisible heat, still they remained cold. Deafening the sound of cloth against bed linen fabric, Ryan took time in moving. Clawing at the sheets for direction he turned agonizingly slow. The feel of his leg hairs, standing up straight rubbing against the entangled, in woven others made the bottom of Ryan's stomach sink to his navel. He knew who it was, he felt Ryan purr like a neutered cat when noting having to travel up a flight of stairs.
He closed his eyes in a blink when he would have been able to fully view the new bed-mate of his, the mate who would paint his sheets wet and a lovely blood clot red. Ryan's nose rested in the dip in-between the crevasses of his stranger's ribs, his hair began to get wet by the sweat of a rather ill smelling armpit. Everything from flesh to breathe stank from the being that may as well be dead. In a perfect position to strike Ryan groped around the table for a weapon, only to feel the buttons of an alarm clock and the smooth porcelain rounded shape of the sea-green lamp that he saw upon first entering the room. Guiding his hand downward, across the edge of the wooden bedside dresser Ryan felt the metallic surface of an oddly engraved knob. Ignoring the twinge of pain from the queer stretching, groping from behind his back Ryan pulled open the drawer, until his arm would no longer go to the small of his back or the drawer was fully out. The waffling scent of new, new of cleaners, masked scents broke through as his fingertip's search for something, anything. The texture of smooth book cover, probably of a stained or more likely never touch, except the occasional curious child only to be pulled away by a parent who would give new advice to the young one, a lesson on germs. There, there was a smooth, sharp toothed pointed metallic object, a letter opener, simply desirable.
Licking his lips, spreading saliva across the excitement crusted lines on his pale upturned smirking lips, Ryan was going to get his wish. Inclosing his fingers so that his mock knife rested in his dried palm Ryan brought the weapon behind his back, positioned like in the old horror movie fashion, ready for the kill. Grinning Ryan lifted his arm, careful not to cut himself, Ryan was ready. Just when he was ready, when his environments rolled together in cool and warm colors and the only thing in true clarity was a chest laced with sheets and his own shoulder resting against the divot between the stranger's back and the bed; He moved. The man moved so that both their chests touched, the man brought his arms fully around Ryan's slim waist, the man's backhand gently brushing against the letter opener's tip. Looking up Ryan confirmed the identity of his mate in the dead of the night. Bam. It had to him. Dropping the letter opener to the carpeted ground in a dull thud, Ryan soaked in the sight. If he, Ryan were have had never to know Bam if would have mistook him for a dark, revised angel but a demon at heart he was. Shaking Ryan's mouth moved in a silent scream of horror, of denial, and mostly importantly disgust. Ryan had digested his own pride with the night's alluring call for sleep. He should have been on guard. Ryan didn't understand he knew to a degree that it was Bam but why was he reacting in such a distressed manner?
Was it his past? No, no it wasn't. Ryan, he could tell and feel was watching him with unemotional eyes, Ryan was not giving any pity to his “evil twin” of sorts. Then what was wrong, what was the problem? I could still kill him, Ryan may intervene but he could have a chance to escape this hell once and for all. Ryan shook to the point of bile reviving in his expanding and contracting throat muscle, sluggishly pushing onward to the agape opening of Ryan's quivering lips. Eyelids fluttered open, cold blue irises dazed in a hangover and sleep looked into Ryan's broken shard eyes, watery puddle of humiliation. Ryan's eyes locked on Bam’s lips as formed words, first he thought he thought himself to be deaf or Bam to be mute for no volume played past the vocal cords, ever though Bam’s lips moved.“Ryan?”
Ryan screamed. __________________________________________________________________________
Ryan could hear them. The accusing whispers and the gasps, the “Mans” and the “What were you thinking,” he could hear it all. Over the hissing hot water stream of the full blast of the shower he knew what they were talking about. Locked in the bathroom Ryan remained curled against the damp porcelain mold of the shower's bottom. Hugged in the right circling while droplets straying from the blast that was direction on a stop two feet in front of him, where any sane, dirty, or money conserving body would be.
Sniffing Ryan remembered the knocking on the door, the demands for the door to be opened, the familiar voices of worry, April, Dico, Rake, hell even Raab and Novak woke up. Bam had flown backward, shocked presence and cursing himself under his breath for coming in and invading Ryan's personal space, his trust, and drinking so much, for clearly he was also experiencing a nasty hangover. Nuzzling his face into his chest drawn knees Ryan growled that faded into a sniffling sob. Ashamed for his weakness, he fled in a flesh toned blurs to the bath room, not to relieve himself which the fright was willing for Ryan to do but to cry without them knowing. Sliding himself into the water, Ryan sat there glaring that the tap. Though it was not the tap he was glaring at, the voices were leaking through the doorway. Gasping blindly for the small, shitty soap bottles, Ryan crushed the innocent mint colored plastic bottle in his grasp.
Clutching the bottle, the soapy liquid slipped sluggishly from the cracked sides from Ryan's rage. Slipping over his whiten, ashen knuckles as the voices faded as callings to get ready for the people in his room left. Shoes and barefoot slides went across the carpet, murmurs of hushed whispers following them but Ryan knew people still remained outside his door. A polite knock rang out through the cheap wood, a worried pained voice following it. “Ryan? Honey are you all right? We are going to the set soon do you want to stay here?” April's voice leaked through the door, Phil mostly likely beside her as always. Washing his hair violently and cleaning his body hurriedly Ryan grinned in response, an insane grin, a grin that matched that of the mad cat of that book of crack heads and mushroom heads. Ryan smiled an evil grin.
“Yes, I will be out, tell Bam I am sorry, he just gave me a scare,” Ryan said, still grinning a horrifying smile. As he could picture April's smile and her walking out telling him that she would fetch him clothes, Phil still in tow, Ryan whispered to himself. “He will learn not to fuck with me, it will cost him his worthless life,” Ryan whispered past his upturned lips, grinning as he stood to complete his cleansing, feeling his past shudder inside of him in worry.
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The buildings seemed slightly bigger than before, slightly more treating to his mere human height. The sounds seemed to be a little more louder, a momentary more deafening to listening the shooting plans for day. The smells seemed to be stronger than when Ryan exited Dico’s truck after leaving the more becoming home of the Bam Castle estate. Everything seemed to grow, to increase to become a little more unbearable. This feeling was not something Ryan needed right now, not when he was telling himself to focus on getting to Bam and ending this foolish game of cat and mouse.
The small talk of the people behind Ryan was transforming into higher and lower pitches of voices that were familiar. Footsteps and commands bounced off the location they were in as people took to the set. Ryan looked over his shoulder to see April, with her husband/anchor was behind her, a smile etched on her features. “Ryan, would you like to see the scene?” Ryan took noted of the focus point of a mass of bodies and machines. April took place in front of his targeted gaze, dragging his eyes away from babbling people to her eyes. Ryan studied the thought, he couldn't foul up, the stakes were higher too high. Was it safe? Would some moronic behavior or wish in emotional recollection or brief physical contact?
Ryan softly shuffled his tennis shoes across the gravel toward the scene, Bam and Novak the focus point of the lens and booms. Silence washed over the area, people, animals even nature's beautiful to annoying sounds seemed to wait. Finally the deep waited breath exhaled as Novak and Bam began commentary. Awed, confused were the few emotions Ryan was washed with. Standing there, head angled to the side, eyelids blinking in a tune with confusion, Ryan watched. A bystander, he was, trying to grasp the theme, the concept of this movie. Bam was acting like a crude gentleman, “Sweethearts” and “Loves” taking place of you and other pronouns. Novak was playing a weary, only child-diseased-young-man. Both young men had changed their attitudes, their personalities. Almost as if they both changed souls upon the rolling of the film, upon the calling for action, Bam and Novak continued on, Dico soon joining them of the set, thankfully he was in his own character.
Awed, in short Ryan was jerked into reality by a rather large yet carefully placed hand. Looking to his shoulder he noted that it was not a person he knew or personally had knowledge of. Ryan followed the hand to a long-shelved shirt to a mold of a man to hanging masses of brown locks to glasses, sharp smiling teeth and smiling eyes. Rake Yohn. Ryan knew the man probably had been watching his peers harshly, judging their behavior in disapproval, for he wasn't their friend, their Ryan but a stranger in his left behind shell, a different soul. Still though Rake was seemingly king toward him, not taking action in introduction until Ryan seemed in need of help, of clarity. Taking Ryan to the side, he followed dumbly. Ryan wasn't in care of the way he acted around his young man, this was the smart one, if anything this caring young man would be the only one able to stop him before he could act on his wishes, his wishes to make Bam suffer as his past did.
Grinning Rake stopped his leading about a good distance away from the set. Ryan waited for a quick answer to his displayed confusion but instead he was taken back by a hand being outstretched in offering. “My name is Rake, well that is what everyone calls me but my mom,” Rake smiled queerly, Ryan looking down the hand up and down. Never had the boys ever really properly introduced themselves, as if this was only a temporary change. This young man however seemed to accept and acknowledge the thought of Ryan being new to them forever on, gone was the past probably in a true scientist's eyes dead. Nodding Ryan shook the friendly intentioned appendage, Rake setting the shaking motion in a soft up and down as if scared to rip off Ryan's arm. Afraid he seemed that Ryan would crumple in his hands, like the Ryan he knew was crushed, crushed in a car that resembled a coke can upon laying eyes on.
After a good five-second smiling and arm dipping in waves Ryan and Rake broke hand lock. “I could see you with a bit of What-the-Fuck features on your face, so I decide to finally acquaint, well reacquaint myself with you. Sorry it took so long, I am ashamed to say I couldn't build the courage like the others just to walk back into your life.” The admitting of fear was causing Rake to kick the gravel out of nervous, manly reaction. Ryan nodded smiling, not a fake smile of future schemed painful plans, no a smile that Ryan shared with Dico, April, Phil, and the waiting Missy.
“I admire you for your courage and pleased to meet you once again, Rake.” Ryan couldn't help but smiled a little wider from the shocked look across the pleasantly nervous facial features of Rake. Working his mouth without volume Rake's shock was changed to overjoyed shining. Finally getting his sound to work with his words Rake spoke.
“You know my name? I knew April said that the nurses and doctors played the DVD to you when we were in delay of coming but it seemed almost untrue. Books and data show that people of lost memories are very curious and demanding,” Rake paused looking Ryan over as if a work on a brilliant fellow scientist showing off his masterpiece to the ever watching, fully attentive worlds. “You are the opposite as far as I can tell. Your interaction with April, Phil and the group of bastards is nothing out of pure want to become someone you don't know, someone you used to be,” Rake's volume drowned down to mumbles that no sane person could hear, Ryan wasn't sane. Ryan heard the words and scientific phrases taking them in as a complement. Rake had no idea that Ryan was out for blood. He had no clue that Ryan had no want to be normal, be wanted to fulfill his calling then die, Ryan at his side. None knew that this was not Ryan but a monster, detailed in on his lifestyle by the goose women and the locked Ryan inside, their Ryan watching on as his life was now a movie to him, he was an actor in what he was no longer calling for him to act.
Ryan stood there for the rest of almost 35 minute scene, Ryan's legs felt numb by the time Ryan realized the crew was done for the scene of Novak’s past. He talked to Rake getting to know Rake's rather . . . weird personality, his hate of mustard, his use of chemicals, his past with how he got involved with this group when he could have had a good solid reputation amongst the science world. They talked about Ryan, how he liked to drink alone, how he sat apart from the groups recently, well the past two to four years not adding to conversation of crude nature, rather he fiddled with his phone or checked his e-mails.
Ryan had surfaced and he didn't mind the presence of his past, he never did unless it came to harming Bam. Much as the feeling of someone standing very close or the pressing feeling of a person's abdomen on your back as they look over your shoulder that was the feeling of his Ryan's curiosity, his watching of the world his new form was leading. Ryan seemed to be very . . . overjoyed to see Rake, much with the way he saw April, Phil, Raab, Dico, the crew but why not Bam or Novak? Were Bam and Novak containing knowledge of what happened to Ryan? Come to think of it, he wasn't this happy on seeing Missy, do they know something?
Much like all times he was on a breaking concept that hand, if it be a welcoming, introducing placement or it be an annoying hand just leaking joy and want of attention was placed on his shoulder. This hand was the latter, more graveled kind that Ryan was now having to deal with. Twisting his upper body so that his spine popped in protest, Ryan eyed the hand's owner. Novak, grinning, glowing, and shining in proud glory he was. Novak, with Bam, Raab, and Dico behind him began to open his mouth on why he now burdened Ryan with his questioning or wants. “ Rake why do always have to steal the beauties away from such a handsome man,” Novak grinned, pointing to himself, flipping his few hanging strand of hair in a cheesy, female audience and targeted show.
Rake began to grumble at Novak in curses, laced with personal past events of Novak’s embarrassing past to hurt him, Rake's pride had taken a heavy blow it seemed. Novak laughed and waved him off, continuing his one-sided conversation, “Love, why don't you come with me, after all, I happen to be Bam Margera,” Bam’s eye twitched in hearing this, Novak continuing smiling, a smile that could have been a twin of Bam’s. Bam was about to open his mouth with a snarly comment but was stopped by a polite yet oddly professional cough. Joe stood next to Hanna near the being packed up equipment.
“All-right Bammie Boy, we are done for the day. You guys get a few days off, me and the rest,” Joe swept his arm out to what one would indicate to a hundred or thousand yet less than a dozen people, stopping when his backhand hit Hanna's stomach, “Have to check the sound and stuff before we leave location.” Joe sent an apologetic look to Hanna for a short moment before glaring at Novak’s whoop of joy. “ Well we will be going. And Bam keep that disease and his diseases under a lock and key, I don't want to be awakened in my few sleeping hours telling me that Novak is in jail in need of bail. Yo, Bam you need to get me out of here man, I don't want to be butt-fucked again, I may get impregnated or something,” Ryan couldn't help but show a smile, giggles escaping through the tightly pressed lips, Joe's last comment, and imitation of Novak got to him and the rest of the crew. Turning his body all the way around Ryan saw all the laughing faces. Blushing, faced covered, over leaning forward as their bodies bent in heaved laughs, these faces were happy. One laugh caught Ryan ears in a prickling sting. It sounded heavenly. Searching for the owner Ryan laid eyes on him. Bam was laughing at Novak’s fumbling to come up with a rebuttal. Ryan stared at the laughing, handsome, and bent young man in awe. How could such a heavenly calling, a mixture of a giggle and a manly chuckle come from a horrid man?
Novak began shooting off responses of Joe's girlfriend, she seemed to have a smoking problem from what Ryan could hear over the laughter and angry retorts. Joe and Novak went into a heavy exchange of words as Ryan was still mesmerized by Bam and his alluring very vocal reaction to the flying comments and harsh atmosphere. Hanna's second shriek/laugh made Ryan head swivel to the side to see Joe bull-rushing toward Novak, toward Ryan. Novak gave a scared running pace away from Joe, running as if hell itself was on his heels. Ryan was left to run as well, for he to was in Joe's way of his Novak murdering. Blind except the calling to move, Ryan ran into a body. Two arms embraced his waist, the same arms that laid of his hips while entangled in sheets this morning. Ryan jerked his hips out of the comforting grip in a quick trust before resting his hands on Bam’s shoulder. Pivoting Ryan used Bam as a shield, hiding behind him as he saw Joe run after a quickly swiveling and turning body of Novak. The crying sound of rubber of tennis shoes and laughter hung with Novak’s screams blared in Ryan's reddening ears. A heated blush set across Ryan's face has Bam scream for the two running men to, “Quit your shit.” Ryan sniffed in the fragrance of Bam, he knew why his past had fallen for this young man. He was caring if fear was true. His laugh was heavenly. He was handsome in a dark way.
Hiding his blushing face in the back of Bam’s shirt, Ryan spoke. In a hushed voice filtered by the cloth and in shame, Ryan spoke. “Bam,” Ryan spoke. Ryan could feel the turning of Bam’s back as he looked over his shoulder. Ryan could feel the questioning, comforting eyes on his head. Bam’s hot breathing of the sense of love borderline obsession pants fluttering Ryan's hair, hairs that weren't pressed against Bam’s back. Bam opened his mouth to speak, minted air waving into Ryan's nose. Before he could ask, Ryan was swept away from Bam and his body barrier.
Novak supporting a lining of a black eye grinned. Through the pain he smiled and spoke, “Hey Sweetheart, want to be in my movie.” Ryan blinked, hadn't he already asked that question? “Franzie-boy, could you hook up a sex scene and add male sex to the warning, thanks babes,” Novak slipped an arm around Ryan's waist. What's with my waist? Ryan's blushed dipped into looking like a third degree sunburn. Dico burst out laughing once again, Raab sharing his amusement in his famous laugh, and Rake by shaking his head. The crew gave final giggles before piling off to continue work in the hotel, locked in with their equipment, opinions, and each other. Bam was the only one seemingly a bit angry. “Novak,” Bam growled past his pale lips and bared teeth.
Novak let go of Ryan and turned to his cash cow, a Cheshire cat grin set in place. “What doesn't everyone want to see some Bam and Ryan action?”
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Closing the door behind him, Ryan looked about the room. Dark and peaceful was the room, a great contrast to day's events. After leaving the set, the group left for lunch and with everything else in the Bam group world in was odd. A wonderland of crude pranks and tricks with food was normal to these people, along with disgusted stares and giggles of bystanders eating lunch. Novak was hitting on women ranging to fifty to sixteen. Dico flicking food into Rake's hair, which went unnoticed by the young man has he too, was hitting on an every two-second blinking woman, thinking that she was enjoyed with his presence not Dico’s behind the scenes’ trickery. Raab sat at the table nursing a beer after beer, talking to Ryan much like Rake had been doing, introducing himself. April and Phil finally saw it safe to rejoin the boys, only to be victims to angry stares and murmurs of the restaurant employees, well the elders anyway. Afterward the gang went shopping, causing chaos wherever they went. Broken items, stolen items, and foul-smelling scent and even more pranks ending in pain and angry shouts from the victim and echoing laughter from the near peers bounced of the walls, the display windows, and high ceiling.
This day was thieving of his calm attitude of aloof superiority. Instead of a form of winter, a soulless cold doll to all Ryan acted human. He smiled, he grew fear, he grew curious, he held another, he met the forgotten, and queerest of all he laughed, no, he . . . giggled. Dismissing his today's actions as a response to the heat, Ryan began to take off his clothes for rest. As he laid into the bed, his memory spoke. “Today was only about 65 degrees,” Memory spoke in whispers, remembering the weather forecast hitting his ears while locked in the bathroom, locked in after the drunk Bam scare, over the blasting steam of water. Ryan grumbled while trying to find an excuse, twisting and turning in the sheets. A bitter cold of the changed and untouched fabric tingled his leg hair once again upon reentering the cocoon of fabric.
Nuzzling into the pillow, his body resting in exhaustion Ryan was near falling into a land of dreams, he alone with his loving past, in a meadow near a body of water just peering off at the rolling black, shadowy clouds. The water's ripples darken than the black water, playing across its currents was the outside world of Rake, Dico, Raab, April, Phil, their grandchildren, and the other that were both loved by Ryan and his evil counterpart. Those not amongst the playing waters were Novak, Bam and Missy. Ryan didn't understand why Missy nor Novak made an appearance, he didn't mind Novak and favored Missy much like April, may be it was for she was a woman. So why weren't they there, was it because of Ryan's, his past's emotions toward them? The darker of the two peered over to his beloved past but he made no comment, as he appeared to be in bliss. Knees drawn to his chest smiling at the water almost sorrowfully, Ryan looked at the water. Was this what his past did all day? Droplets of rains showered across the evil of the two, his past covered by the swaying leaves of the tree he sat under. Getting up and sitting next to his twin in the living form, the evil moved from the now ragging rain. Ryan stuccoed away from his new form, for the uncomfortable feeling of personal space invasion and the odd/forgotten feeling on cloth against cloth, flesh against flesh. Turning back to the black lake, then to the black emerald leaves of the trees, the rustling grass plans and the cold bitter wind then back to his pure twin, he was shocked. The glare. That glare across his twin normally friendly shining eyes were cold than the wind, colder than the blacks of this world of sadness.
Locked on his past's face, Ryan, the evil moved in closer. His twin's lips were moving. Thankful that his twin didn't move away from him again he hoped to hear the words again. His past spoke again, past the wailing winds, the rustling trees and grass, and the sounds from the pool of water, his twin spoke. “It's my fault, why you and I have to suffer. I should have done it myself but I didn't have the courage, so I made you,” Ryan looked up and at the pool, his frown changing into a teary upturned smile of glued on style. The evil stared at him in confusion, nothing could be his fault, it was theirs, never my perfect past's. The evil shook his head, about to argue with the word flowing from his twin's mouth. More words came fro Ryan's mouth, turning to his creation in pity, “Can you ever forgive me, can you forgive him. He loves us and we love him.”
Rage broke across the evil's face, “Never.” He growled out, he began again, “I hate him, not even for you, the being I ‘Love’ the most would I do that.” The pure looked at his counterpart, he knew, he saw how his hatred in form acted today with Bam, Ryan was overjoyed to his twin happy through the looking glass pool. Turning away in a sigh, shaking his head at the clear denial of the young man, the tarnished mirror beside him, Ryan looked back at the pool. Smiling up at the rain, the crying sky, the swelling cloud lightening up like someone with a flashlight was on top of them, Ryan had a knowing smirk on his face. “ What are you smirking at?” Ryan, the darkness snapped in anger. Turning his head in a rolling motion his past smiled back at his mirror image of hatred that as snarling at him. Smile, that damned smile that his creation wanted to trip off his lips, he smiled and spoke.
“Then why didn't you lock the door after you entered the room?”
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Ah, the Bam and Ryan(evil) moments, the Ryan and . . . Ryan moments, and the queer moments between Novak (cosplayer Bam) and Ryan, and the last quote :dies: I personally love, sometimes I spoil myself ^^
Thanks to all my readers, comments are loved, glomped, and huggled, and see you next time sweethearts.
Title: Affixing Memories
Characters: Bam Margera/Ryan Dunn!past, Bam Margera/Ryan Dunn!new
Rating: R
Summary: This time Ryan didn't just walk away from a car crash with bruises and broken bones. He also lost his past and his love for the man who adored him.
Warnings: First Bam/Ryan, not beta'd, I don't own these boys, amnesia Ryan & other angst.
Chapter one - That Which was Lost
Chapter two - The Reunion of Fools
Chapter three - The Fool's Struggle
Chapter four - The Nameless Body
It was warm. Fluttering in and out of conciseness, his eyes not willing to accept the dawning of the day, the sun's fingers of stretching solar light breaking through the thick fabric and burning his unadjusted eyes. Frowning Ryan retreated into the promising familiar feeling of reach coolness of untouched blankets. While fleeing the warm, the nauseating feeling of building preparation Ryan ran his rolling body into another heat. Irritation began to boil from his raging beating heart to his now swelling hair facials. Twisting his legs through the clinging blankets, Ryan tried to elude the warmth to his side. Unable to free himself Ryan surrendered to the will of the hotel sheets. Resting his side of his head on a well-built frame and what felt like a nipple. Wait, when did blankets have muscles, abs, and nipples? Turning in a pained motion Ryan gently turned his stiff, sleep fleeting eyes to his side. Black, that was a fitting description of the soon to be dead human male nuzzled up to his body, molded against him like a second skin. The brushing sensation of cotton, heavy scented with cheap beers tickled Ryan into a heavy dosage of reality. Digits that felt like small slithering snakes caressed Ryan's hipbone in a drunken daze. Mumbles of morning breath that strongly resembled sour dirt much of that of a forgotten graveyard, it housing corpses buried not far enough into its thin soil.
Growing ill from the whispers of bad breath and the thought of another in his bed, who was not his inner self, his past Ryan, Ryan began slowing twisting his body. His skin was tickled by the coarse cold sheets across his goose-flesh skin, the sheets had stayed cold and winter nipped when two bodies were close enough to be merged into one being, they remained seemingly caked in snow when Ryan was radiating waves of invisible heat, still they remained cold. Deafening the sound of cloth against bed linen fabric, Ryan took time in moving. Clawing at the sheets for direction he turned agonizingly slow. The feel of his leg hairs, standing up straight rubbing against the entangled, in woven others made the bottom of Ryan's stomach sink to his navel. He knew who it was, he felt Ryan purr like a neutered cat when noting having to travel up a flight of stairs.
He closed his eyes in a blink when he would have been able to fully view the new bed-mate of his, the mate who would paint his sheets wet and a lovely blood clot red. Ryan's nose rested in the dip in-between the crevasses of his stranger's ribs, his hair began to get wet by the sweat of a rather ill smelling armpit. Everything from flesh to breathe stank from the being that may as well be dead. In a perfect position to strike Ryan groped around the table for a weapon, only to feel the buttons of an alarm clock and the smooth porcelain rounded shape of the sea-green lamp that he saw upon first entering the room. Guiding his hand downward, across the edge of the wooden bedside dresser Ryan felt the metallic surface of an oddly engraved knob. Ignoring the twinge of pain from the queer stretching, groping from behind his back Ryan pulled open the drawer, until his arm would no longer go to the small of his back or the drawer was fully out. The waffling scent of new, new of cleaners, masked scents broke through as his fingertip's search for something, anything. The texture of smooth book cover, probably of a stained or more likely never touch, except the occasional curious child only to be pulled away by a parent who would give new advice to the young one, a lesson on germs. There, there was a smooth, sharp toothed pointed metallic object, a letter opener, simply desirable.
Licking his lips, spreading saliva across the excitement crusted lines on his pale upturned smirking lips, Ryan was going to get his wish. Inclosing his fingers so that his mock knife rested in his dried palm Ryan brought the weapon behind his back, positioned like in the old horror movie fashion, ready for the kill. Grinning Ryan lifted his arm, careful not to cut himself, Ryan was ready. Just when he was ready, when his environments rolled together in cool and warm colors and the only thing in true clarity was a chest laced with sheets and his own shoulder resting against the divot between the stranger's back and the bed; He moved. The man moved so that both their chests touched, the man brought his arms fully around Ryan's slim waist, the man's backhand gently brushing against the letter opener's tip. Looking up Ryan confirmed the identity of his mate in the dead of the night. Bam. It had to him. Dropping the letter opener to the carpeted ground in a dull thud, Ryan soaked in the sight. If he, Ryan were have had never to know Bam if would have mistook him for a dark, revised angel but a demon at heart he was. Shaking Ryan's mouth moved in a silent scream of horror, of denial, and mostly importantly disgust. Ryan had digested his own pride with the night's alluring call for sleep. He should have been on guard. Ryan didn't understand he knew to a degree that it was Bam but why was he reacting in such a distressed manner?
Was it his past? No, no it wasn't. Ryan, he could tell and feel was watching him with unemotional eyes, Ryan was not giving any pity to his “evil twin” of sorts. Then what was wrong, what was the problem? I could still kill him, Ryan may intervene but he could have a chance to escape this hell once and for all. Ryan shook to the point of bile reviving in his expanding and contracting throat muscle, sluggishly pushing onward to the agape opening of Ryan's quivering lips. Eyelids fluttered open, cold blue irises dazed in a hangover and sleep looked into Ryan's broken shard eyes, watery puddle of humiliation. Ryan's eyes locked on Bam’s lips as formed words, first he thought he thought himself to be deaf or Bam to be mute for no volume played past the vocal cords, ever though Bam’s lips moved.“Ryan?”
Ryan screamed. __________________________________________________________________________
Ryan could hear them. The accusing whispers and the gasps, the “Mans” and the “What were you thinking,” he could hear it all. Over the hissing hot water stream of the full blast of the shower he knew what they were talking about. Locked in the bathroom Ryan remained curled against the damp porcelain mold of the shower's bottom. Hugged in the right circling while droplets straying from the blast that was direction on a stop two feet in front of him, where any sane, dirty, or money conserving body would be.
Sniffing Ryan remembered the knocking on the door, the demands for the door to be opened, the familiar voices of worry, April, Dico, Rake, hell even Raab and Novak woke up. Bam had flown backward, shocked presence and cursing himself under his breath for coming in and invading Ryan's personal space, his trust, and drinking so much, for clearly he was also experiencing a nasty hangover. Nuzzling his face into his chest drawn knees Ryan growled that faded into a sniffling sob. Ashamed for his weakness, he fled in a flesh toned blurs to the bath room, not to relieve himself which the fright was willing for Ryan to do but to cry without them knowing. Sliding himself into the water, Ryan sat there glaring that the tap. Though it was not the tap he was glaring at, the voices were leaking through the doorway. Gasping blindly for the small, shitty soap bottles, Ryan crushed the innocent mint colored plastic bottle in his grasp.
Clutching the bottle, the soapy liquid slipped sluggishly from the cracked sides from Ryan's rage. Slipping over his whiten, ashen knuckles as the voices faded as callings to get ready for the people in his room left. Shoes and barefoot slides went across the carpet, murmurs of hushed whispers following them but Ryan knew people still remained outside his door. A polite knock rang out through the cheap wood, a worried pained voice following it. “Ryan? Honey are you all right? We are going to the set soon do you want to stay here?” April's voice leaked through the door, Phil mostly likely beside her as always. Washing his hair violently and cleaning his body hurriedly Ryan grinned in response, an insane grin, a grin that matched that of the mad cat of that book of crack heads and mushroom heads. Ryan smiled an evil grin.
“Yes, I will be out, tell Bam I am sorry, he just gave me a scare,” Ryan said, still grinning a horrifying smile. As he could picture April's smile and her walking out telling him that she would fetch him clothes, Phil still in tow, Ryan whispered to himself. “He will learn not to fuck with me, it will cost him his worthless life,” Ryan whispered past his upturned lips, grinning as he stood to complete his cleansing, feeling his past shudder inside of him in worry.
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The buildings seemed slightly bigger than before, slightly more treating to his mere human height. The sounds seemed to be a little more louder, a momentary more deafening to listening the shooting plans for day. The smells seemed to be stronger than when Ryan exited Dico’s truck after leaving the more becoming home of the Bam Castle estate. Everything seemed to grow, to increase to become a little more unbearable. This feeling was not something Ryan needed right now, not when he was telling himself to focus on getting to Bam and ending this foolish game of cat and mouse.
The small talk of the people behind Ryan was transforming into higher and lower pitches of voices that were familiar. Footsteps and commands bounced off the location they were in as people took to the set. Ryan looked over his shoulder to see April, with her husband/anchor was behind her, a smile etched on her features. “Ryan, would you like to see the scene?” Ryan took noted of the focus point of a mass of bodies and machines. April took place in front of his targeted gaze, dragging his eyes away from babbling people to her eyes. Ryan studied the thought, he couldn't foul up, the stakes were higher too high. Was it safe? Would some moronic behavior or wish in emotional recollection or brief physical contact?
Ryan softly shuffled his tennis shoes across the gravel toward the scene, Bam and Novak the focus point of the lens and booms. Silence washed over the area, people, animals even nature's beautiful to annoying sounds seemed to wait. Finally the deep waited breath exhaled as Novak and Bam began commentary. Awed, confused were the few emotions Ryan was washed with. Standing there, head angled to the side, eyelids blinking in a tune with confusion, Ryan watched. A bystander, he was, trying to grasp the theme, the concept of this movie. Bam was acting like a crude gentleman, “Sweethearts” and “Loves” taking place of you and other pronouns. Novak was playing a weary, only child-diseased-young-man. Both young men had changed their attitudes, their personalities. Almost as if they both changed souls upon the rolling of the film, upon the calling for action, Bam and Novak continued on, Dico soon joining them of the set, thankfully he was in his own character.
Awed, in short Ryan was jerked into reality by a rather large yet carefully placed hand. Looking to his shoulder he noted that it was not a person he knew or personally had knowledge of. Ryan followed the hand to a long-shelved shirt to a mold of a man to hanging masses of brown locks to glasses, sharp smiling teeth and smiling eyes. Rake Yohn. Ryan knew the man probably had been watching his peers harshly, judging their behavior in disapproval, for he wasn't their friend, their Ryan but a stranger in his left behind shell, a different soul. Still though Rake was seemingly king toward him, not taking action in introduction until Ryan seemed in need of help, of clarity. Taking Ryan to the side, he followed dumbly. Ryan wasn't in care of the way he acted around his young man, this was the smart one, if anything this caring young man would be the only one able to stop him before he could act on his wishes, his wishes to make Bam suffer as his past did.
Grinning Rake stopped his leading about a good distance away from the set. Ryan waited for a quick answer to his displayed confusion but instead he was taken back by a hand being outstretched in offering. “My name is Rake, well that is what everyone calls me but my mom,” Rake smiled queerly, Ryan looking down the hand up and down. Never had the boys ever really properly introduced themselves, as if this was only a temporary change. This young man however seemed to accept and acknowledge the thought of Ryan being new to them forever on, gone was the past probably in a true scientist's eyes dead. Nodding Ryan shook the friendly intentioned appendage, Rake setting the shaking motion in a soft up and down as if scared to rip off Ryan's arm. Afraid he seemed that Ryan would crumple in his hands, like the Ryan he knew was crushed, crushed in a car that resembled a coke can upon laying eyes on.
After a good five-second smiling and arm dipping in waves Ryan and Rake broke hand lock. “I could see you with a bit of What-the-Fuck features on your face, so I decide to finally acquaint, well reacquaint myself with you. Sorry it took so long, I am ashamed to say I couldn't build the courage like the others just to walk back into your life.” The admitting of fear was causing Rake to kick the gravel out of nervous, manly reaction. Ryan nodded smiling, not a fake smile of future schemed painful plans, no a smile that Ryan shared with Dico, April, Phil, and the waiting Missy.
“I admire you for your courage and pleased to meet you once again, Rake.” Ryan couldn't help but smiled a little wider from the shocked look across the pleasantly nervous facial features of Rake. Working his mouth without volume Rake's shock was changed to overjoyed shining. Finally getting his sound to work with his words Rake spoke.
“You know my name? I knew April said that the nurses and doctors played the DVD to you when we were in delay of coming but it seemed almost untrue. Books and data show that people of lost memories are very curious and demanding,” Rake paused looking Ryan over as if a work on a brilliant fellow scientist showing off his masterpiece to the ever watching, fully attentive worlds. “You are the opposite as far as I can tell. Your interaction with April, Phil and the group of bastards is nothing out of pure want to become someone you don't know, someone you used to be,” Rake's volume drowned down to mumbles that no sane person could hear, Ryan wasn't sane. Ryan heard the words and scientific phrases taking them in as a complement. Rake had no idea that Ryan was out for blood. He had no clue that Ryan had no want to be normal, be wanted to fulfill his calling then die, Ryan at his side. None knew that this was not Ryan but a monster, detailed in on his lifestyle by the goose women and the locked Ryan inside, their Ryan watching on as his life was now a movie to him, he was an actor in what he was no longer calling for him to act.
Ryan stood there for the rest of almost 35 minute scene, Ryan's legs felt numb by the time Ryan realized the crew was done for the scene of Novak’s past. He talked to Rake getting to know Rake's rather . . . weird personality, his hate of mustard, his use of chemicals, his past with how he got involved with this group when he could have had a good solid reputation amongst the science world. They talked about Ryan, how he liked to drink alone, how he sat apart from the groups recently, well the past two to four years not adding to conversation of crude nature, rather he fiddled with his phone or checked his e-mails.
Ryan had surfaced and he didn't mind the presence of his past, he never did unless it came to harming Bam. Much as the feeling of someone standing very close or the pressing feeling of a person's abdomen on your back as they look over your shoulder that was the feeling of his Ryan's curiosity, his watching of the world his new form was leading. Ryan seemed to be very . . . overjoyed to see Rake, much with the way he saw April, Phil, Raab, Dico, the crew but why not Bam or Novak? Were Bam and Novak containing knowledge of what happened to Ryan? Come to think of it, he wasn't this happy on seeing Missy, do they know something?
Much like all times he was on a breaking concept that hand, if it be a welcoming, introducing placement or it be an annoying hand just leaking joy and want of attention was placed on his shoulder. This hand was the latter, more graveled kind that Ryan was now having to deal with. Twisting his upper body so that his spine popped in protest, Ryan eyed the hand's owner. Novak, grinning, glowing, and shining in proud glory he was. Novak, with Bam, Raab, and Dico behind him began to open his mouth on why he now burdened Ryan with his questioning or wants. “ Rake why do always have to steal the beauties away from such a handsome man,” Novak grinned, pointing to himself, flipping his few hanging strand of hair in a cheesy, female audience and targeted show.
Rake began to grumble at Novak in curses, laced with personal past events of Novak’s embarrassing past to hurt him, Rake's pride had taken a heavy blow it seemed. Novak laughed and waved him off, continuing his one-sided conversation, “Love, why don't you come with me, after all, I happen to be Bam Margera,” Bam’s eye twitched in hearing this, Novak continuing smiling, a smile that could have been a twin of Bam’s. Bam was about to open his mouth with a snarly comment but was stopped by a polite yet oddly professional cough. Joe stood next to Hanna near the being packed up equipment.
“All-right Bammie Boy, we are done for the day. You guys get a few days off, me and the rest,” Joe swept his arm out to what one would indicate to a hundred or thousand yet less than a dozen people, stopping when his backhand hit Hanna's stomach, “Have to check the sound and stuff before we leave location.” Joe sent an apologetic look to Hanna for a short moment before glaring at Novak’s whoop of joy. “ Well we will be going. And Bam keep that disease and his diseases under a lock and key, I don't want to be awakened in my few sleeping hours telling me that Novak is in jail in need of bail. Yo, Bam you need to get me out of here man, I don't want to be butt-fucked again, I may get impregnated or something,” Ryan couldn't help but show a smile, giggles escaping through the tightly pressed lips, Joe's last comment, and imitation of Novak got to him and the rest of the crew. Turning his body all the way around Ryan saw all the laughing faces. Blushing, faced covered, over leaning forward as their bodies bent in heaved laughs, these faces were happy. One laugh caught Ryan ears in a prickling sting. It sounded heavenly. Searching for the owner Ryan laid eyes on him. Bam was laughing at Novak’s fumbling to come up with a rebuttal. Ryan stared at the laughing, handsome, and bent young man in awe. How could such a heavenly calling, a mixture of a giggle and a manly chuckle come from a horrid man?
Novak began shooting off responses of Joe's girlfriend, she seemed to have a smoking problem from what Ryan could hear over the laughter and angry retorts. Joe and Novak went into a heavy exchange of words as Ryan was still mesmerized by Bam and his alluring very vocal reaction to the flying comments and harsh atmosphere. Hanna's second shriek/laugh made Ryan head swivel to the side to see Joe bull-rushing toward Novak, toward Ryan. Novak gave a scared running pace away from Joe, running as if hell itself was on his heels. Ryan was left to run as well, for he to was in Joe's way of his Novak murdering. Blind except the calling to move, Ryan ran into a body. Two arms embraced his waist, the same arms that laid of his hips while entangled in sheets this morning. Ryan jerked his hips out of the comforting grip in a quick trust before resting his hands on Bam’s shoulder. Pivoting Ryan used Bam as a shield, hiding behind him as he saw Joe run after a quickly swiveling and turning body of Novak. The crying sound of rubber of tennis shoes and laughter hung with Novak’s screams blared in Ryan's reddening ears. A heated blush set across Ryan's face has Bam scream for the two running men to, “Quit your shit.” Ryan sniffed in the fragrance of Bam, he knew why his past had fallen for this young man. He was caring if fear was true. His laugh was heavenly. He was handsome in a dark way.
Hiding his blushing face in the back of Bam’s shirt, Ryan spoke. In a hushed voice filtered by the cloth and in shame, Ryan spoke. “Bam,” Ryan spoke. Ryan could feel the turning of Bam’s back as he looked over his shoulder. Ryan could feel the questioning, comforting eyes on his head. Bam’s hot breathing of the sense of love borderline obsession pants fluttering Ryan's hair, hairs that weren't pressed against Bam’s back. Bam opened his mouth to speak, minted air waving into Ryan's nose. Before he could ask, Ryan was swept away from Bam and his body barrier.
Novak supporting a lining of a black eye grinned. Through the pain he smiled and spoke, “Hey Sweetheart, want to be in my movie.” Ryan blinked, hadn't he already asked that question? “Franzie-boy, could you hook up a sex scene and add male sex to the warning, thanks babes,” Novak slipped an arm around Ryan's waist. What's with my waist? Ryan's blushed dipped into looking like a third degree sunburn. Dico burst out laughing once again, Raab sharing his amusement in his famous laugh, and Rake by shaking his head. The crew gave final giggles before piling off to continue work in the hotel, locked in with their equipment, opinions, and each other. Bam was the only one seemingly a bit angry. “Novak,” Bam growled past his pale lips and bared teeth.
Novak let go of Ryan and turned to his cash cow, a Cheshire cat grin set in place. “What doesn't everyone want to see some Bam and Ryan action?”
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Closing the door behind him, Ryan looked about the room. Dark and peaceful was the room, a great contrast to day's events. After leaving the set, the group left for lunch and with everything else in the Bam group world in was odd. A wonderland of crude pranks and tricks with food was normal to these people, along with disgusted stares and giggles of bystanders eating lunch. Novak was hitting on women ranging to fifty to sixteen. Dico flicking food into Rake's hair, which went unnoticed by the young man has he too, was hitting on an every two-second blinking woman, thinking that she was enjoyed with his presence not Dico’s behind the scenes’ trickery. Raab sat at the table nursing a beer after beer, talking to Ryan much like Rake had been doing, introducing himself. April and Phil finally saw it safe to rejoin the boys, only to be victims to angry stares and murmurs of the restaurant employees, well the elders anyway. Afterward the gang went shopping, causing chaos wherever they went. Broken items, stolen items, and foul-smelling scent and even more pranks ending in pain and angry shouts from the victim and echoing laughter from the near peers bounced of the walls, the display windows, and high ceiling.
This day was thieving of his calm attitude of aloof superiority. Instead of a form of winter, a soulless cold doll to all Ryan acted human. He smiled, he grew fear, he grew curious, he held another, he met the forgotten, and queerest of all he laughed, no, he . . . giggled. Dismissing his today's actions as a response to the heat, Ryan began to take off his clothes for rest. As he laid into the bed, his memory spoke. “Today was only about 65 degrees,” Memory spoke in whispers, remembering the weather forecast hitting his ears while locked in the bathroom, locked in after the drunk Bam scare, over the blasting steam of water. Ryan grumbled while trying to find an excuse, twisting and turning in the sheets. A bitter cold of the changed and untouched fabric tingled his leg hair once again upon reentering the cocoon of fabric.
Nuzzling into the pillow, his body resting in exhaustion Ryan was near falling into a land of dreams, he alone with his loving past, in a meadow near a body of water just peering off at the rolling black, shadowy clouds. The water's ripples darken than the black water, playing across its currents was the outside world of Rake, Dico, Raab, April, Phil, their grandchildren, and the other that were both loved by Ryan and his evil counterpart. Those not amongst the playing waters were Novak, Bam and Missy. Ryan didn't understand why Missy nor Novak made an appearance, he didn't mind Novak and favored Missy much like April, may be it was for she was a woman. So why weren't they there, was it because of Ryan's, his past's emotions toward them? The darker of the two peered over to his beloved past but he made no comment, as he appeared to be in bliss. Knees drawn to his chest smiling at the water almost sorrowfully, Ryan looked at the water. Was this what his past did all day? Droplets of rains showered across the evil of the two, his past covered by the swaying leaves of the tree he sat under. Getting up and sitting next to his twin in the living form, the evil moved from the now ragging rain. Ryan stuccoed away from his new form, for the uncomfortable feeling of personal space invasion and the odd/forgotten feeling on cloth against cloth, flesh against flesh. Turning back to the black lake, then to the black emerald leaves of the trees, the rustling grass plans and the cold bitter wind then back to his pure twin, he was shocked. The glare. That glare across his twin normally friendly shining eyes were cold than the wind, colder than the blacks of this world of sadness.
Locked on his past's face, Ryan, the evil moved in closer. His twin's lips were moving. Thankful that his twin didn't move away from him again he hoped to hear the words again. His past spoke again, past the wailing winds, the rustling trees and grass, and the sounds from the pool of water, his twin spoke. “It's my fault, why you and I have to suffer. I should have done it myself but I didn't have the courage, so I made you,” Ryan looked up and at the pool, his frown changing into a teary upturned smile of glued on style. The evil stared at him in confusion, nothing could be his fault, it was theirs, never my perfect past's. The evil shook his head, about to argue with the word flowing from his twin's mouth. More words came fro Ryan's mouth, turning to his creation in pity, “Can you ever forgive me, can you forgive him. He loves us and we love him.”
Rage broke across the evil's face, “Never.” He growled out, he began again, “I hate him, not even for you, the being I ‘Love’ the most would I do that.” The pure looked at his counterpart, he knew, he saw how his hatred in form acted today with Bam, Ryan was overjoyed to his twin happy through the looking glass pool. Turning away in a sigh, shaking his head at the clear denial of the young man, the tarnished mirror beside him, Ryan looked back at the pool. Smiling up at the rain, the crying sky, the swelling cloud lightening up like someone with a flashlight was on top of them, Ryan had a knowing smirk on his face. “ What are you smirking at?” Ryan, the darkness snapped in anger. Turning his head in a rolling motion his past smiled back at his mirror image of hatred that as snarling at him. Smile, that damned smile that his creation wanted to trip off his lips, he smiled and spoke.
“Then why didn't you lock the door after you entered the room?”
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Ah, the Bam and Ryan(evil) moments, the Ryan and . . . Ryan moments, and the queer moments between Novak (cosplayer Bam) and Ryan, and the last quote :dies: I personally love, sometimes I spoil myself ^^
Thanks to all my readers, comments are loved, glomped, and huggled, and see you next time sweethearts.