(no subject)
Title: Harlem Sunset
Fandom: HIM/Viva la Bam
Characters: Ville/Bam
Word Count: 1,633
Rating: eventually R for violence and graphic romance -gigglesex-
Summary: Vam. Mafia style.
Missed some?
O n e
T w o
So I just wanted to say two things before we get on to the completely new stuff. One, I have nothing left in reserve so posting is going to fluctuate a lot. Sorry, I can't promise days that I can update. And two, if you don't know who Jonne Aaron is, here is a picture of him. I don't know how familiar people are with him anymore. Ryonne was never widely written but I may or may not be dabbling in it :X.
With that said, welcome to the new stuff ladies&gents:
T h r e e
“Now Ville…” Ville Valo was seething but he had too much respect for his father to let it show. He hated the Eyes with everything he had. Jyrki had left just moments before with a smirk on his face that met his dancing eyes. Ville stared pure heat into the spot that the insect had recently occupied. Kari placed a hand on his son’s shoulder.
“We need them.” Ville sighed a deep breath.
“I know.” He said.
“Just for the time being, there’ll be a truce. We just need to get on our feet, I promise. Ever since his father died I just… that little… well you know I feel the same as you on this matter.” Kari closed his eyes and brought a hand to smooth the stress from his brow.
“But please, for our sake, just make peace for a little while alright? That means attending their dinners, following their requests, not starting fights, do you understand?” Ville stared straight ahead, completely unseeing. His voice became monotone as he slipped into lack of feeling.
“Yes, Father. As you wish.”
“Hey, Whore!” A pretty boy of seventeen looked up with startled blue eyes. He bit his lip a little before tucking a few strands of long gold hair carefully behind one ear. Then he sat, listening for a moment with his head slightly cocked to one side, like a puppy who doesn’t quite know his name yet.
“Jonne, you little cunt! Get down here!” Ah, he thought. Right. His spine became curved as he ducked his head down into submission. He gulped.
“I, I’m coming Jyrki!” So humiliating. His arms found their place crossed in a defense across his awkward chest. He hadn’t eaten much lately and his pants had started to slip with every few steps he took. A frown graced his lips as he sighed. It had been bad enough that his borrowed clothing already dwarfed him, the sleeves falling to about an inch past his finger tips, but this was too much.
“I said down here!” The boy shivered a bit as he reached the stairs, hurrying down them with light footfalls. His gaze dropped to his shoes.
“Yes? I’m here.” He fingered his rings apprehensively as he felt the familiar savage burn of all the eyes around the great mahogany table focus on him. The looks of pure lust made bile rise in his throat.
“We have a guest tonight, Jonne.” Jyrki gave great care to pronounce each syllable with great care and clarity using his slight height over the boy to his advantage. Jonne would’ve liked it if just once Jyrki didn’t treat him like some stupid pet. He knew English just as well as the others. Jyrki stepped clower still until Jonne could feel his heat.
“Jonne? Did you hear me?” He was so close to him and he just couldn’t concentrate when people were that close to him and he could feel his breath on his neck and Jussi’s jealous stare and he just wanted it all to go away and go away right now!
“Look at me.” This time a whisper. Jonne bit his lips but did not raise his head. A hand snaked out to grab a fist full of hair. Such a rapid movement caught him by surprise and he yelped as his head was thrown back until his eyes met a pair of cold ice.
“I asked you.” A sharp tug punctuated each sentence. “If you. Heard me!”
“Yes!” Jonne cried as he was released, falling to the floor as the sudden freedom knocked him off-balance. He sat there for a moment, knees scuffed and drawn together as his hands were flung back behind him. He looked down at his chest, willing the tears to just please not come this one time please. Jyrki’s words felt thick and slimy as they fell upon his ears.
“Why don’t you go over and say hello, little one? He’s sitting right over there.” Jonne looked up only to have his breath hitch a little in his throat. The man sitting at the table was in his early twenties with sweeping black curls that kissed his eyes. He tried to read those eyes but found that nothing was given away in such hard jades. Jonne shivered slightly though he didn’t really think he was cold.
He captured his breath before putting on what all the Eyes called his ‘seductive face’ and swayed his hips over to the stranger. With slightly awkward movements, as if he didn’t quite know just what he was doing, he perched quietly on the man’s lap before pressing cotton-candy lips to the man’s ears and whispering what Jyrki had taught him. He watched the man’s eyes grow wide and was pleased with himself but was then startled when he was again thrown to the floor, this time on accident as the man stood rapidly. The whole house roared with laughter. Jonne flushed before pushing himself up off the ground and flying out the screen door, tears stinging his eyes.
He collapsed in the alley-way, gasping. That’d never happened before and he couldn’t figure out just why he was so upset. Wasn’t that what he wanted? To not have to… he pulled at his hair in frustration. He didn’t know what he wanted anymore. The cool night stung his eyes as the willed the tears to leave him in peace. He wanted just one night to not cry, to not hate himself. Just one night, it was all he asked. His ears perked slightly as he heard the laughter die down inside, replaced now by tension and anger. He crept back to the door to hear the quarrel begin.
“Aw, what’s the matter Ville? That was an act of hospitality!” Jonne cringed at Jyrki’s deep voice.
“What? The abuse of a boy? He’s a child for god’s sake!” His hearing sharpened as his interest peaked.
“Oh come, now! He’s just some twit I picked up off the streets of Helsinki. I took him in.” He heard the stranger scoff.
“To be a sex slave? What life is that?” Jonne looked down at himself, disgusted. He’d only said what Jyrki had wanted him to… he didn’t really wanna… but if he didn’t then Jyrki would…
“It’s better than death!”
“For you or for him?” Jonne started as he heard chairs whine their disapproval as they were scraped back abruptly.
“Get out of my house, Ville! After what your family did I took you in out of hospitality! In a strange American city that you know nothing of?! You know nothing of this town! You don’t know what the Margeras are like! You need me and here you are with your insulting back-talk after you refuse my welcome! Get out!” Jonne had to jump back as the door swung open and before he knew it he was eye to eye with the stranger. The man paused as he looked upon him. Jonne wanted to speak, wanted to cry out: Don’t hate me! I’m not disgusting on the inside! but the words were stuck in his throat. The stranger cast a hasty look to the door.
“Come with me.” He whispered to Jonne. “I can help you.” Tears stung Jonne’s eyes as he too looked back to the tattered building that was his only shelter.
“I…” The words died in his throat along with any hope he’d still clung to. His gaze fell to his shoes and he knew that he didn’t have to answer, the man understood.
“I’m sorry.” The stranger whispered and all of a sudden the warmth was gone and Jonne found himself once again alone in the night.
As he walked with Dico, Bam made sure to stray from sight and notice. When he walked alone, he walked with purpose; parting crowds like the Red Sea. But now as darker things came to mind, he made his foot steps light and wavered between crowds and back alleys. The crowds would cover the noise and the alleys would prove that they weren’t being followed. He looked to his friend.
“What have you found?” Dico’s eyes were calmer now with his leader here but they still darted about wildly from time to time.
“I, well he’s…” Bam paused in his stride and Dico immediately stopped as well. Bam put an arm around his companion, rubbing his back slightly to quiet him.
“It’s alright, Dico. I wouldn’t ask if I thought it was unsafe.” Dico huffed, the closest thing he could manage to a deep breath. They began walking once again, coming off a busy street and onto a quieter path. The houses were nice here, economy sized and family-friendly. Ahead of them lay an elementary school, long since vacated. It was almost mid-July and yet the park still seemed to echo the small shadows of laughter. With another half-sigh, Dico seemed to find his voice.
“Over the last few days I can tell you that he’s found no family that will willingly take him in. But Bam,” he turned to face him now, “he’s made some powerful friends that hold grudges against us.” The sun was starting to set over the park as they neared it and Bam couldn’t help but close his eyes and remember when things had been so much more simple. The dying light washed the park in golds and pinks, calling to his memories, seducing them to live again and be as fresh as the day they were made.
“So he’s chosen Jyrki then, has he?” Bam didn’t see his friend nod but then again he didn’t have to. He closed his eyes to the golden park. Now was not the time to shrink away into memory.
“I figured as much.” He said. “Well then, let the games begin.”
---
Comments?
Fandom: HIM/Viva la Bam
Characters: Ville/Bam
Word Count: 1,633
Rating: eventually R for violence and graphic romance -gigglesex-
Summary: Vam. Mafia style.
Missed some?
O n e
T w o
So I just wanted to say two things before we get on to the completely new stuff. One, I have nothing left in reserve so posting is going to fluctuate a lot. Sorry, I can't promise days that I can update. And two, if you don't know who Jonne Aaron is, here is a picture of him. I don't know how familiar people are with him anymore. Ryonne was never widely written but I may or may not be dabbling in it :X.
With that said, welcome to the new stuff ladies&gents:
T h r e e
“Now Ville…” Ville Valo was seething but he had too much respect for his father to let it show. He hated the Eyes with everything he had. Jyrki had left just moments before with a smirk on his face that met his dancing eyes. Ville stared pure heat into the spot that the insect had recently occupied. Kari placed a hand on his son’s shoulder.
“We need them.” Ville sighed a deep breath.
“I know.” He said.
“Just for the time being, there’ll be a truce. We just need to get on our feet, I promise. Ever since his father died I just… that little… well you know I feel the same as you on this matter.” Kari closed his eyes and brought a hand to smooth the stress from his brow.
“But please, for our sake, just make peace for a little while alright? That means attending their dinners, following their requests, not starting fights, do you understand?” Ville stared straight ahead, completely unseeing. His voice became monotone as he slipped into lack of feeling.
“Yes, Father. As you wish.”
“Hey, Whore!” A pretty boy of seventeen looked up with startled blue eyes. He bit his lip a little before tucking a few strands of long gold hair carefully behind one ear. Then he sat, listening for a moment with his head slightly cocked to one side, like a puppy who doesn’t quite know his name yet.
“Jonne, you little cunt! Get down here!” Ah, he thought. Right. His spine became curved as he ducked his head down into submission. He gulped.
“I, I’m coming Jyrki!” So humiliating. His arms found their place crossed in a defense across his awkward chest. He hadn’t eaten much lately and his pants had started to slip with every few steps he took. A frown graced his lips as he sighed. It had been bad enough that his borrowed clothing already dwarfed him, the sleeves falling to about an inch past his finger tips, but this was too much.
“I said down here!” The boy shivered a bit as he reached the stairs, hurrying down them with light footfalls. His gaze dropped to his shoes.
“Yes? I’m here.” He fingered his rings apprehensively as he felt the familiar savage burn of all the eyes around the great mahogany table focus on him. The looks of pure lust made bile rise in his throat.
“We have a guest tonight, Jonne.” Jyrki gave great care to pronounce each syllable with great care and clarity using his slight height over the boy to his advantage. Jonne would’ve liked it if just once Jyrki didn’t treat him like some stupid pet. He knew English just as well as the others. Jyrki stepped clower still until Jonne could feel his heat.
“Jonne? Did you hear me?” He was so close to him and he just couldn’t concentrate when people were that close to him and he could feel his breath on his neck and Jussi’s jealous stare and he just wanted it all to go away and go away right now!
“Look at me.” This time a whisper. Jonne bit his lips but did not raise his head. A hand snaked out to grab a fist full of hair. Such a rapid movement caught him by surprise and he yelped as his head was thrown back until his eyes met a pair of cold ice.
“I asked you.” A sharp tug punctuated each sentence. “If you. Heard me!”
“Yes!” Jonne cried as he was released, falling to the floor as the sudden freedom knocked him off-balance. He sat there for a moment, knees scuffed and drawn together as his hands were flung back behind him. He looked down at his chest, willing the tears to just please not come this one time please. Jyrki’s words felt thick and slimy as they fell upon his ears.
“Why don’t you go over and say hello, little one? He’s sitting right over there.” Jonne looked up only to have his breath hitch a little in his throat. The man sitting at the table was in his early twenties with sweeping black curls that kissed his eyes. He tried to read those eyes but found that nothing was given away in such hard jades. Jonne shivered slightly though he didn’t really think he was cold.
He captured his breath before putting on what all the Eyes called his ‘seductive face’ and swayed his hips over to the stranger. With slightly awkward movements, as if he didn’t quite know just what he was doing, he perched quietly on the man’s lap before pressing cotton-candy lips to the man’s ears and whispering what Jyrki had taught him. He watched the man’s eyes grow wide and was pleased with himself but was then startled when he was again thrown to the floor, this time on accident as the man stood rapidly. The whole house roared with laughter. Jonne flushed before pushing himself up off the ground and flying out the screen door, tears stinging his eyes.
He collapsed in the alley-way, gasping. That’d never happened before and he couldn’t figure out just why he was so upset. Wasn’t that what he wanted? To not have to… he pulled at his hair in frustration. He didn’t know what he wanted anymore. The cool night stung his eyes as the willed the tears to leave him in peace. He wanted just one night to not cry, to not hate himself. Just one night, it was all he asked. His ears perked slightly as he heard the laughter die down inside, replaced now by tension and anger. He crept back to the door to hear the quarrel begin.
“Aw, what’s the matter Ville? That was an act of hospitality!” Jonne cringed at Jyrki’s deep voice.
“What? The abuse of a boy? He’s a child for god’s sake!” His hearing sharpened as his interest peaked.
“Oh come, now! He’s just some twit I picked up off the streets of Helsinki. I took him in.” He heard the stranger scoff.
“To be a sex slave? What life is that?” Jonne looked down at himself, disgusted. He’d only said what Jyrki had wanted him to… he didn’t really wanna… but if he didn’t then Jyrki would…
“It’s better than death!”
“For you or for him?” Jonne started as he heard chairs whine their disapproval as they were scraped back abruptly.
“Get out of my house, Ville! After what your family did I took you in out of hospitality! In a strange American city that you know nothing of?! You know nothing of this town! You don’t know what the Margeras are like! You need me and here you are with your insulting back-talk after you refuse my welcome! Get out!” Jonne had to jump back as the door swung open and before he knew it he was eye to eye with the stranger. The man paused as he looked upon him. Jonne wanted to speak, wanted to cry out: Don’t hate me! I’m not disgusting on the inside! but the words were stuck in his throat. The stranger cast a hasty look to the door.
“Come with me.” He whispered to Jonne. “I can help you.” Tears stung Jonne’s eyes as he too looked back to the tattered building that was his only shelter.
“I…” The words died in his throat along with any hope he’d still clung to. His gaze fell to his shoes and he knew that he didn’t have to answer, the man understood.
“I’m sorry.” The stranger whispered and all of a sudden the warmth was gone and Jonne found himself once again alone in the night.
As he walked with Dico, Bam made sure to stray from sight and notice. When he walked alone, he walked with purpose; parting crowds like the Red Sea. But now as darker things came to mind, he made his foot steps light and wavered between crowds and back alleys. The crowds would cover the noise and the alleys would prove that they weren’t being followed. He looked to his friend.
“What have you found?” Dico’s eyes were calmer now with his leader here but they still darted about wildly from time to time.
“I, well he’s…” Bam paused in his stride and Dico immediately stopped as well. Bam put an arm around his companion, rubbing his back slightly to quiet him.
“It’s alright, Dico. I wouldn’t ask if I thought it was unsafe.” Dico huffed, the closest thing he could manage to a deep breath. They began walking once again, coming off a busy street and onto a quieter path. The houses were nice here, economy sized and family-friendly. Ahead of them lay an elementary school, long since vacated. It was almost mid-July and yet the park still seemed to echo the small shadows of laughter. With another half-sigh, Dico seemed to find his voice.
“Over the last few days I can tell you that he’s found no family that will willingly take him in. But Bam,” he turned to face him now, “he’s made some powerful friends that hold grudges against us.” The sun was starting to set over the park as they neared it and Bam couldn’t help but close his eyes and remember when things had been so much more simple. The dying light washed the park in golds and pinks, calling to his memories, seducing them to live again and be as fresh as the day they were made.
“So he’s chosen Jyrki then, has he?” Bam didn’t see his friend nod but then again he didn’t have to. He closed his eyes to the golden park. Now was not the time to shrink away into memory.
“I figured as much.” He said. “Well then, let the games begin.”
---
Comments?