fic: lover i don't have to love, vam
Title: Lover I Don`t Have to Love
Pairing: Ville Valo/Bam Margera
Rating: R for sexual content, drinking, and drug use.
Story Type: Multi-chapter.
Summary: “…I want a lover I don`t have to love; I want a boy who`s so drunk he doesn`t talk…”
Disclaimer: Don`t know. Don`t own. Never happened. I think. My inspiration is the song "Lover I Don`t Have to Love," by Bright Eyes.
I met you at a club in Helsinki. Our band was playing a gig there, and you were there with a group of friends. I had never seen you in this small town before; you must have been a foreigner. I had picked you out of a crowd and talked to you. I said, ‘I like your shoes.’ You said, ‘Thanks, can I follow you?’
You left the club with me, leaving your friends behind. It was already pitch-black outside; probably around three o’clock in the morning, but we made nothing of it.
I brought you back to my apartment, upstairs, away from prying eyes. I followed your every movie with my gaze, watching you make yourself comfortable on my couch. You asked if I had anything to drink, so I brought out two glasses of champagne.
I asked your name, you asked the time. I said that it was around three o`clock and asked your name again. ‘Brandon,’ you said, ‘but my friends call me Bam.’
‘So, do I call you Brandon or Bam?’ I asked with a faint grin. My already thick accent was a bit slurred because of the rapid amounts of red wine going into my system. I looked at the bottle, seeing that we had already emptied it, save a drop or two left in it.
‘Bam,’ you replied quickly. I thought I saw you blush, but your cheeks might have just been flushed because of the alcohol you had consumed.
We talked for hours, and I learned that you were from North America, and was here with your buddies for a skating competition. You mentioned my band, telling me some of your favourite songs, and how you thought that we might “hit it big” someday, as you put it.
You looked back at the clock and told me that you`d better get going, or you would worry your friends. I frowned but let you go, asking when you`d be going back to the states. I watched you frown as you tried to remember, but managed to say, ’Tuesday.’
Today is Monday.
We exchanged addresses and phone numbers, as per your request. You promised to call me soon, to fly the band and I to Pennsylvania, saying you knew someone who could help us get a record deal there.
You didn`t want me to walk you back to your hotel, saying that you didn`t want me to have to walk that far, and then have to walk all the way back in this cold weather.
When I couldn`t see you anymore, I went back into the apartment and went to my room. I flung myself onto my water-bed and fell asleep as soon as my head hit the pillow, and proceeded to dream of you.
*
A few weeks later, I finally got a call from you. I refrained from telling you how I`d practically sat beside the phone, just waiting for you to call. Wanting to hear your voice.
You said that you could fly me in by Sunday evening. It was already Wednesday.
I wanted to see you so badly. I told you that the rest of the band about this, but they couldn`t make it. That was partially untrue. They could have easily made it, but I wanted to be alone with you. To get to know you better.
You said, ‘Great, see you then,’ and hung up.
I was alone again.
Waiting for Sunday.
PART TWO
When Sunday rolled around, I had to be at the airport by six-thirty that morning. I only got about one hour of sleep, anxious to see you. I thought about you constantly, and found your unwavering ice-blue gaze plaguing my dreams.
The plane-ride to Pennsylvania was rather uneventful; I made sure to get as much sleep as possible, that way I could spend more time with you before going to bed, and having unattractive bags beneath my eyes.
When I got off of the plane and got my bags, I went to the waiting area to find you already there, standing in the centre of the room holding a sign that read “Future Rock Legend.” How flattering. Then I remembered why I was here: strictly business, as far as I know. Hopefully, I would only have to spend a fraction of my stay here going over business-like matters,, and spend the rest of my time here with you.
I asked you what was on the agenda for the day, and you said that we could do whatever today, because you scheduled my meeting for tomorrow, saying that jet-lag would set in soon.
We left the airport and drove to your house-er, Castle-in your red Hummer. You called it ‘your baby’ and said that you don`t know what you would do if you ever lost it, or if something happened to it.
*
When we arrived at ‘Castle Bam,’ you introduced me to a few of the people who lived there with you: April, Phil, Ryan Dunn, Brandon DiCamillo, and Raab Himself. You said that there were a few more people, and that I would probably get to meet them later.
You showed me to my room, then laughed and said that this mansion was large enough to house the entire U.S. Marine Corp.
I just put my suitcase at the edge of my bed and proceeded to get a tour of the house I would be staying in for a week or two.
After the tour, we went to the kitchen for supper. You went up to your bedroom, saying that you weren`t hungry. I stayed in the dining room and ate with everyone else; being on a plane for hours with nothing to eat, other than peanuts made one rather hungry. Plus, this was a nice way to get acquainted with your friends and family.
After dinner, I offered to help April with the dishes, saying: ‘It`s the least I can do for you letting me stay here.’ Your mom thought I was a real sweetheart, I heard her say so to you when you came downstairs for a bite to eat.
After your meal, which consisted of half of a peanut butter and honey sandwich and a glass of water, we went up to your room. We talked the night away, passing a bottle of vodka back and forth between us. You told me your favourite bands, and mentioned that your brother was the drummer in a band called Camp Kill Yourself. You asked me where my inspiration came from, after you learned that I wrote all of our songs, and what musicians influenced our music.
You laughed loudly, mentioning my thick accent. You said, ‘It`s funny when you talk, and you`re drunk, Ville. Say ‘poptart.’’
I said it and you burst out into a fit of giggles; I didn`t see what was so funny about saying a word, but I liked making you laugh. You had an infectious laugh, and soon, I found myself laughing with you.
My sides began to ache, and I found myself almost gasping for air; a downfall of my asthma. I think that`s why I was so caught off-guard when you kissed me. I stopped laughing instantly, and leaned up to kiss you back.
After a few moments of pure bliss, you pulled away, your glazed eyes staring into mine. ‘Whoa,’ you said, and started giggling again.
I sighed, listening to you laugh for a while longer, before it died down and your breathing grew steady. I watched your chest rise and fall at an even pace, a sign that you were either asleep, or passed out.
I rose off of the bed, finding my way out of your room, down the hall and into my own bedroom.
But not before placing a kiss to your forehead, and murmuring a quiet, ‘I love you, Bam.’
PART THREE
I woke up late that afternoon, around three o`clock. I could feel the light pouring from the window dancing tauntingly upon my eyelids, just waiting for me to make the mistake of opening them. And I did. The light felt like daggers as it clouded my vision.
God damn hangover.
I managed to find my way to the bathroom, and stepped inside, my hangover-induced mind solely focused on popping a few headache relievers. I managed to find a bottle in the medicine cabinet, fumbled to get the cap off, and popped four into my mouth, not caring if I was taking too many.
‘Ville…?”
I about leapt out of my skin as I turned in the direction of the tired voice. ‘Oh, Bam…I`m sorry, I didn`t know you were showering. I`ll leave,” and I all but ran out of the bathroom.
And left a confused-nude!-Bam Margera half-hanging out of the shower, one hand gripping the black curtain and staring in the direction of the door.
I went back into my room and took a puff on my inhaler before I changed into another pair of clothing, having fell asleep in yesterday`s jeans and tee-shirt.
However, I couldn`t get the image of your semi-nude body out of my head. If it weren`t for that curtain-oh god, I feel like a giddy school-girl! Dress me up in that outfit and I could certainly look the part.
Yet something didn`t seem right. Was it just me, or did you look a tad gaunt? I planned on investigating that further.
After I had something to eat.
*
I went downstairs and your mom offered to make something for me, just eggs and toast, but my head still hurt, so welcomed the offer.
When she finished preparing my breakfast, I ate slowly, waiting for you to come downstairs. When you did, you said that you had already ate, and proceeded to drag me out of the house, saying that my meeting was in half-an-hour with a guy called Jimmy Pop, who happened to also be in a band called The Bloodhound Gang.
We were about ten minutes late, due to heavy traffic, but we were lucky that he was caught up in a meeting.
The meeting with Jimmy was rather boring, at least, it would be to someone who`s life might not be affected by such a meeting. Anyway, there was a lot of talking, and I gave him some demos that we made back in Finland. He said that he liked our style of music and that he would “see what he could do,” shook my hand, and that was basically it; I don`t really feel like going into detail…
As we left the building, you gave me a pat on the back and said that this was a done-deal.
As we got into the car, you said three words that would change my life forever…
‘Let`s go celebrate.’
Pairing: Ville Valo/Bam Margera
Rating: R for sexual content, drinking, and drug use.
Story Type: Multi-chapter.
Summary: “…I want a lover I don`t have to love; I want a boy who`s so drunk he doesn`t talk…”
Disclaimer: Don`t know. Don`t own. Never happened. I think. My inspiration is the song "Lover I Don`t Have to Love," by Bright Eyes.
I met you at a club in Helsinki. Our band was playing a gig there, and you were there with a group of friends. I had never seen you in this small town before; you must have been a foreigner. I had picked you out of a crowd and talked to you. I said, ‘I like your shoes.’ You said, ‘Thanks, can I follow you?’
You left the club with me, leaving your friends behind. It was already pitch-black outside; probably around three o’clock in the morning, but we made nothing of it.
I brought you back to my apartment, upstairs, away from prying eyes. I followed your every movie with my gaze, watching you make yourself comfortable on my couch. You asked if I had anything to drink, so I brought out two glasses of champagne.
I asked your name, you asked the time. I said that it was around three o`clock and asked your name again. ‘Brandon,’ you said, ‘but my friends call me Bam.’
‘So, do I call you Brandon or Bam?’ I asked with a faint grin. My already thick accent was a bit slurred because of the rapid amounts of red wine going into my system. I looked at the bottle, seeing that we had already emptied it, save a drop or two left in it.
‘Bam,’ you replied quickly. I thought I saw you blush, but your cheeks might have just been flushed because of the alcohol you had consumed.
We talked for hours, and I learned that you were from North America, and was here with your buddies for a skating competition. You mentioned my band, telling me some of your favourite songs, and how you thought that we might “hit it big” someday, as you put it.
You looked back at the clock and told me that you`d better get going, or you would worry your friends. I frowned but let you go, asking when you`d be going back to the states. I watched you frown as you tried to remember, but managed to say, ’Tuesday.’
Today is Monday.
We exchanged addresses and phone numbers, as per your request. You promised to call me soon, to fly the band and I to Pennsylvania, saying you knew someone who could help us get a record deal there.
You didn`t want me to walk you back to your hotel, saying that you didn`t want me to have to walk that far, and then have to walk all the way back in this cold weather.
When I couldn`t see you anymore, I went back into the apartment and went to my room. I flung myself onto my water-bed and fell asleep as soon as my head hit the pillow, and proceeded to dream of you.
*
A few weeks later, I finally got a call from you. I refrained from telling you how I`d practically sat beside the phone, just waiting for you to call. Wanting to hear your voice.
You said that you could fly me in by Sunday evening. It was already Wednesday.
I wanted to see you so badly. I told you that the rest of the band about this, but they couldn`t make it. That was partially untrue. They could have easily made it, but I wanted to be alone with you. To get to know you better.
You said, ‘Great, see you then,’ and hung up.
I was alone again.
Waiting for Sunday.
PART TWO
When Sunday rolled around, I had to be at the airport by six-thirty that morning. I only got about one hour of sleep, anxious to see you. I thought about you constantly, and found your unwavering ice-blue gaze plaguing my dreams.
The plane-ride to Pennsylvania was rather uneventful; I made sure to get as much sleep as possible, that way I could spend more time with you before going to bed, and having unattractive bags beneath my eyes.
When I got off of the plane and got my bags, I went to the waiting area to find you already there, standing in the centre of the room holding a sign that read “Future Rock Legend.” How flattering. Then I remembered why I was here: strictly business, as far as I know. Hopefully, I would only have to spend a fraction of my stay here going over business-like matters,, and spend the rest of my time here with you.
I asked you what was on the agenda for the day, and you said that we could do whatever today, because you scheduled my meeting for tomorrow, saying that jet-lag would set in soon.
We left the airport and drove to your house-er, Castle-in your red Hummer. You called it ‘your baby’ and said that you don`t know what you would do if you ever lost it, or if something happened to it.
*
When we arrived at ‘Castle Bam,’ you introduced me to a few of the people who lived there with you: April, Phil, Ryan Dunn, Brandon DiCamillo, and Raab Himself. You said that there were a few more people, and that I would probably get to meet them later.
You showed me to my room, then laughed and said that this mansion was large enough to house the entire U.S. Marine Corp.
I just put my suitcase at the edge of my bed and proceeded to get a tour of the house I would be staying in for a week or two.
After the tour, we went to the kitchen for supper. You went up to your bedroom, saying that you weren`t hungry. I stayed in the dining room and ate with everyone else; being on a plane for hours with nothing to eat, other than peanuts made one rather hungry. Plus, this was a nice way to get acquainted with your friends and family.
After dinner, I offered to help April with the dishes, saying: ‘It`s the least I can do for you letting me stay here.’ Your mom thought I was a real sweetheart, I heard her say so to you when you came downstairs for a bite to eat.
After your meal, which consisted of half of a peanut butter and honey sandwich and a glass of water, we went up to your room. We talked the night away, passing a bottle of vodka back and forth between us. You told me your favourite bands, and mentioned that your brother was the drummer in a band called Camp Kill Yourself. You asked me where my inspiration came from, after you learned that I wrote all of our songs, and what musicians influenced our music.
You laughed loudly, mentioning my thick accent. You said, ‘It`s funny when you talk, and you`re drunk, Ville. Say ‘poptart.’’
I said it and you burst out into a fit of giggles; I didn`t see what was so funny about saying a word, but I liked making you laugh. You had an infectious laugh, and soon, I found myself laughing with you.
My sides began to ache, and I found myself almost gasping for air; a downfall of my asthma. I think that`s why I was so caught off-guard when you kissed me. I stopped laughing instantly, and leaned up to kiss you back.
After a few moments of pure bliss, you pulled away, your glazed eyes staring into mine. ‘Whoa,’ you said, and started giggling again.
I sighed, listening to you laugh for a while longer, before it died down and your breathing grew steady. I watched your chest rise and fall at an even pace, a sign that you were either asleep, or passed out.
I rose off of the bed, finding my way out of your room, down the hall and into my own bedroom.
But not before placing a kiss to your forehead, and murmuring a quiet, ‘I love you, Bam.’
PART THREE
I woke up late that afternoon, around three o`clock. I could feel the light pouring from the window dancing tauntingly upon my eyelids, just waiting for me to make the mistake of opening them. And I did. The light felt like daggers as it clouded my vision.
God damn hangover.
I managed to find my way to the bathroom, and stepped inside, my hangover-induced mind solely focused on popping a few headache relievers. I managed to find a bottle in the medicine cabinet, fumbled to get the cap off, and popped four into my mouth, not caring if I was taking too many.
‘Ville…?”
I about leapt out of my skin as I turned in the direction of the tired voice. ‘Oh, Bam…I`m sorry, I didn`t know you were showering. I`ll leave,” and I all but ran out of the bathroom.
And left a confused-nude!-Bam Margera half-hanging out of the shower, one hand gripping the black curtain and staring in the direction of the door.
I went back into my room and took a puff on my inhaler before I changed into another pair of clothing, having fell asleep in yesterday`s jeans and tee-shirt.
However, I couldn`t get the image of your semi-nude body out of my head. If it weren`t for that curtain-oh god, I feel like a giddy school-girl! Dress me up in that outfit and I could certainly look the part.
Yet something didn`t seem right. Was it just me, or did you look a tad gaunt? I planned on investigating that further.
After I had something to eat.
*
I went downstairs and your mom offered to make something for me, just eggs and toast, but my head still hurt, so welcomed the offer.
When she finished preparing my breakfast, I ate slowly, waiting for you to come downstairs. When you did, you said that you had already ate, and proceeded to drag me out of the house, saying that my meeting was in half-an-hour with a guy called Jimmy Pop, who happened to also be in a band called The Bloodhound Gang.
We were about ten minutes late, due to heavy traffic, but we were lucky that he was caught up in a meeting.
The meeting with Jimmy was rather boring, at least, it would be to someone who`s life might not be affected by such a meeting. Anyway, there was a lot of talking, and I gave him some demos that we made back in Finland. He said that he liked our style of music and that he would “see what he could do,” shook my hand, and that was basically it; I don`t really feel like going into detail…
As we left the building, you gave me a pat on the back and said that this was a done-deal.
As we got into the car, you said three words that would change my life forever…
‘Let`s go celebrate.’