Smoking - Chapter 28

Feb 22, 2007 08:50

Title:: Smoking
Genre:: Drama
Fandom:: RPS Vam, Villinde, Dugera, Lindunn, others.
Rating:: R
Summary:: A story, reaching back to the beginning like a twisted, curling whisp of smoke from a slow burning fire.
Disclaimer::Most characters are property only of themselves; I own the storyline and the writing. This is a work of ficiton; treat it as such.

Links
Chapters 1 - 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27



Chapter 28

The making of And Love Said No. Running around London (and in really nice hotels) without shoes on, flambéing cocks (all in the name of religion), and beer for my homies. Not to mention a stunning Andy McCoy belt.

Just me and Ville and London and a whole bunch of booze.

Those were good times, you know. Real good times. When we could just drink with each other until we couldn’t remember all the shit we had to deal with in real life and … run around Camden without shoes on. We could sit in The World’s End and drink our asses off, laugh, talk, find excuses to touch each other…

Yeah, that seemed to be a huge part of our whole friendship thing. Touching. We was always touching. He’d never brought up that night when I’d told him and Lily I was gay, and I always pretended I’d forgotten it in a haze of booze, but I knew he knew and he knew I knew he knew. He’d always been touchy feely but after that, he never let go of me.

And I wasn’t about to complain.

I guess it was those four days that really … changed something. It was just the two of us. I mean, it’d been just the two of us before, but this was different. Something went click, for both of us I guess. The … flirting, I guess that’s what it was, got more serious.

He looked like shit. Honestly. He looked sick. I could count every single one of his ribs without trying. His eyes were tired and he spent the whole time drinking. We both spent the whole time drinking though. Maybe that wasn’t an indicator.

I remember now. He was telling me a lot of shit that weekend. He told me all about him and Linde, from day one when they were little in school. Told me how fucking frustrated he was with him because Linde was being a cold fuck. Or, rather, not a fuck. He told me all about his fling with a little blonde singer about 7 years younger than him, or something like that, how fucked up it was because the blonde spent the whole time calling him Larry whilst they were fucking and he kept waking up next to him and thinking his dreadlocks belonged to Linde.

I didn’t have anything to tell him. I stayed quiet and listened. I had a bitch of a girlfriend that I couldn’t stand to screw but did anyways, but I couldn’t bring that up because that meant we would have to talk about my sexual orientation.

It was a good four days, all told. Given, I spent most of it trying to figure out if the tingles running up my body were from where he touched me, or because I’d drunk too much booze.

I think it was the former.

-----------

Any idiot could see that Ville was smitten. I saw it clear as day.

They met us in Pennsylvania after those four days in London, when Bam flew the whole band out to do those videos. And the difference was… stunning.

Ville had taken to morose moping and grumpy snapping, to not eating and generally looking like shit; but he was grinning when he met us at the airport with his arm wrapped playfully around Bam’s waist.

Or, so he’d have everyone else believe. There was nothing playful about it.

It was then that I started to realize… Ville wasn’t just playing.

Bam was a real threat.

And that scared me.

---------------

“Bam? What are you doing here sweetheart?”

Bam shrugs, biting his lip a little bit. The roar of thousands upon thousands of German fans is deafening. Ville slings an arm around his shoulder and leads him off to the side.

“Bammie? You okay?”

Still nibbling on his lip, Bam shakes his head. Ville sighs, wrapping both arms around him now. He’s sweaty, he needs a smoke and he needs to find where his inhaler is because the air is a lot colder than he’d expected. But Bam comes first.

“She’s a fucking bitch,” Bam mumbles into Ville’s shoulder. Ville needs no more explanation.

“Oh, BamBam, I’m sorry.”

But Bam shakes his head.

“No, don’t be, I’m rid of her. For good. Thank God.”

Ville pulls back to look at him quizzically, trying to mask his joy at that revelation. Bam sighs again and begins to explain, how he’d finally not been able to take it any more, he’d called it off, everything, the wedding, their relationship, everything. She flipped shit, she called the radio station drunk at five in the morning and talked shit about him for everyone to hear, his friends were yelling at her on air, his mom believed everything she said and was cussing him out… he couldn’t take it anymore, he’d had to get out, and he didn’t know where else to come.

Strong arms find their way around Bam’s shoulders as he talks and eventually they’re just standing there, clinging to each other, Bam’s face nestled into Ville’s shoulder and Ville pressing soothing kisses to his temple as the madness of Rock Am Ring - or Rock Im Park, one of those, does it matter? - bustles around them, as if they’re the calm in the eye of the storm. Somewhere, just a few feet away, a guitar falls to the floor and grey eyes burn with shocked jealousy as Linde comes off stage, expecting the post-show blowjob he was promised just 10 minutes ago in the middle of a song, but instead finding Ville wrapped in the arms of his now arch-nemesis.

“Linde?” Migé is looking at him with a frown on his face, and then his wise eyes find Ville and Bam still standing there, rocking slightly, gleaning some kind of comfort each other, and they widen in recognition. “Oh.” He grips Linde’s arm comfortingly but Linde shakes him off, there’s no need for that, he bends over and tends to his guitar.

“Migé, I think it broke…” There are tears pricking at his eyes, he pushes them back stubbornly, but they keep burning there, just inside the socket, and eventually he has to shove the ruined guitar into his friend’s hands and run off to the bathroom without another word.

---------------

I couldn’t lose him. I just couldn’t. I couldn’t imagine myself without Ville. What would I do, what would I be, who would I be? Without him next to me, I would be nothing, no one, nowhere.

What would happen if he and Bam got together, moved away, lived happily ever after? Where would I go? 8 years of loving him hopelessly - more, maybe, maybe a whole lifetime - I couldn’t bear to see him leave, find love for himself, without me, somewhere far far away. He’d forget me, I knew he would, and I’d be alone with nothing but an ever aging mother and progressively matting hair.

What was so good about Bam anyways? What did he have that I didn’t?

Of course, it hit me, after a while. Bam was innocent, untouched, a clean slate for Ville to write all over. All of this, I’d had too. I had been innocent and naive and totally blank, too, when Ville found me. And I knew he wanted to write all over me. For the most part, I let him.

The thing was, that with Bam, there was no such thing as “For the most part.” With Bam, it was all or nothing. Ville would take him and mould him in his hands and Bam would let him, totally, completely. He would let Ville paint his own tattoos all over his body, he would let Ville choose new clothes for him, he would let Ville’s face plaster his walls… and when it came down to it, everyone knew that he would let Ville have his body completely, in the way that I never had.

I was desperate. Distraught and desperate. I didn’t want to do what I did next. I had wanted it to be something special. But I had to do something. I had to make sure I didn’t lose him. I couldn’t bear to lose him. I would do everything it took, to keep him next to me, in any capacity.

I wish I had seen just how blinding an emotion desperation is. And I wish that I’d stopped to think, to rationalize, to calm down. And I wish that my measures had worked.

-----------

“Fuck, it’s good to be home.”

The door slammed behind them. Linde dropped his bags on the floor of the hallway, heaving a sigh of relief in answer to Ville’s statement.

“Remind me why we do this again?”

“Because, Lintti, it …. Umm… Can I get back to you on that?”

It had been a long tour, a very long time on busses and in hotel rooms and living out of suitcases. And now they were home and Ville couldn’t think about anything but falling into bed and sleeping.

“Want some coffee?” Linde shucked his coat off on top of the bags, he’d clean up later, right now his tired limbs were begging for caffeine, or sleep, or both.

“You’re an angel, Barbie.” That was Ville’s way of saying, God yes. Linde smiled a little and headed to the kitchen, bustling around with the various machines and coffee tins and all the paraphernalia related to the coffee making business, whilst dialing his mother on the phone and letting her know that they were all home safe and sound.

“Lintti?! Can you call my parents too?”

“Don’t you want to do that yourself?”

“No, not really. Please?” Ville stretched his back out, cat-like on the couch, a huge yawn nearly unhinging his jaw.

“Fine, fine, I’ll call, though it’s still a bit heartless.”

A few minutes later, they were sitting on the couch, slumped against each other, clutching piping hot cups of coffee as if worried that if they would let go they would be sent spinning into a black hole of time and space, or something.

“I love coming home,” Ville said, quietly, taking a sip of his coffee. Linde nodded, yawning quietly. Ville smiled, pressing a kiss to his cheek, an uncommonly tender gesture that had Linde clutching his cup all the tighter.

The rest of the coffee was drunk in content silence, until Ville put his cup down on the table and stretched out another yawn.

“I think the bed is calling us, Lintti.” Linde nodded, finishing the last of his coffee quickly. His stomach was fluttering nervously - only he knew what he had up his sleeve, and he would never have admitted it, but he was scared.

He followed Ville to bed meekly, stripping off and not even bothering with pajamas. Ville raised an eyebrow at this but followed suit, relishing the freedom of not having to worry who would burst into their room without invitation in the middle of the night.

They let out a collective sigh as they sunk into the covers; they’d had a bad streak of hard, uncomfortable hotel beds, and their mattress had been chosen with love and care and seemed like a bed of clouds to both of them.

“C’mere, Lintti.”

Ville wrapped an arm around Linde’s bare, slender waist and pulled him towards him, placing soft kisses on his lips. Linde sighed happily, nuzzling into the kisses, opening his mouth to let Ville do whatever he liked with his lips. He was nervous, almost to shaking, but the increasingly deep kisses were soothing his nerves as only Ville’s kisses could and when things started to heat up, when bodies began to rub and friction began to create sparks between blood flushed organs, Linde knew he hadn’t misjudged that Ville would be desperate for him this night.

Linde returned the kisses with extra fervor, he couldn’t help but moan as he pulled Ville closer so he could feel him all the better. Ville noticed the change - Linde wasn’t the passive lover he normally was, he was getting involved - but he didn’t want to mention it, for fear Linde would think he was complaining. In fact, he loved it; the only problem he had was when Linde pulled back from his lips, breathless, swallowing and almost gasping for air.

“Ville?”

Ville didn’t want to talk. He just wanted to kiss, and maybe get Linde to go down on him. That’s all he was thinking about. He leaned forwards to silence him with a kiss but Linde dodged, biting his lip.

“Ville, I… I want you do to do something for me.”

Sighing, Ville pushed his sweaty hair out of his eyes.

“What now?”

Linde rolled his eyes at the exasperation in Ville’s voice.

“I want… um…”

“Linde, spit it out.” Bright green eyes caught grey ones, teasing them with their sparkle.

Blushing, Linde looked down. The way he had planned to do this - dominant, confident, demanding - wasn’t going to plan. He forgot to take into account the affect that Ville’s eyes have on him, forgot that nothing ever goes to his plan when Ville’s there.

“I…”

“Mikko. Spit it out or I’m going to sleep.”

Linde sighed, grit his teeth, discarded every hope he’d had of using euphemisms of any sort, and, looking down, spat it out.

“Fuck me.”

The room was silent, for a moment, before Ville - still not believing his ears - broke it, unceremoniously.

“Come again?”

“I… I want you to fuck me.”

“Are you kidding me?”

Linde’s face went a bright red, and he bit his lip, annoyed at that reaction.

“No, I’m not.”

Ville tilted his chin up so they were looking eye to eye.

“You’re sure?”

Linde nodded, silent.

“Why now?”

“I don’t know… Don’t ask me to rationalize, Ville, please, just do it?”

“But…”

“You’re telling me that after years of begging, now I’m asking for it and you won’t do it?”

Ville stopped what he was going to say and shook his head.

“Oh no, Barbie, I’ll do it. God yes I’ll do it. I just…”

“Just what?”

“Well, I didn’t think…”

But Linde shook his head, breaking him off.

“No, don’t think, thinking will only ruin this. Please, Ville?”

The hungry kiss to his lips was all the answer Linde needed.

-----------

After keeping me waiting for years upon years, he didn’t disappoint me.

It was arguably the best sex of my entire life. I don’t think anyone will be able to top the sex we had that night.

It was everything anyone ever looks for, in sex. Hot, passionate, hard, fast, but we savored it, we took our time; it was soft and caring too.

And, in the end, it was Lily, and it was sex. He had always been my ideal of beauty, and he had always been that thing that I lusted after hopelessly, and in the having him, I fulfilled years upon years worth of dreams.

Not to mention that Lily had definitely been hiding his finest talent. He was amazing in bed. And I had to wonder where he got those skills from.

We had a lot of sex after that.

And I mean, a lot.

I couldn’t get enough of him, and now that he’d said yes once, he couldn’t not say it again. But a lot of it was actually on his terms. I knew that if he said no, he meant no. I suppose he did a smart thing in keeping me waiting so long and in the end giving it to me, rather than letting me worm it out of him. I had a lot more respect for him than I had ever had, after that night.

Not to mention that I couldn’t get enough of him.

I didn’t think about why he’d only given in when he’d given in. I didn’t relate it to being just two or three days after Bam had showed up randomly in Germany. I didn’t think about it at all, just took it for granted.

Perhaps I should have thought.

Or I should have just taken a good look into his eyes. Then I’d have known what was going on.

He always was terrible at hiding things. Especially emotions. And especially from me.

-------------

It was months later that things started to blow up in our faces.

I don’t remember where we were. I don’t remember why we were fighting. I don’t remember anything except for the important things.

“Where are you going!?”

“Out with Bam, for Christ’s sake. Take a chill pill, Lily.”

“I thought we were talking here!”

“What are you, my girlfriend? I told you this morning Bam was doing business in Helsinki toady and then we were going out. So now I’m going out!”

“Ville!”

“Mikko. Seriously. What is wrong with you?”

What was wrong? What was wrong was that he was ditching me on the anniversary of the first time he kissed me, and it hurt me that he didn’t remember, and it hurt me that he was going out with Bam, and it hurt me that I was watching him slip out of my fingers like so much sand, and it hurt me that I couldn’t stop loving him no matter how hard I tried.

“Nothing is wrong. I just …”

“You just what? You’ve been acting really strange, Lily, you’re not normally this…”

“This what?”

“Clingy.”

“Fuck off, I’m not.”

“You are too. It’s just Bam, I’m just going out for a drink with him, I don’t get to see him that often!”

“Oh, give me a break, Ville! He’s been here for a week!”

“Yeah, but you live here, and he doesn’t, and if he’s here for a week then I’m going to damn well spend time with him. He’d be staying with us if you weren’t so anal to him.”

“I wouldn’t be so anal to him if he wasn’t so damn annoying.”

“Oh, shut up. You’re just jealous, Lily.”

He’d got it right in one. It made me think, it made me do a double take - does he know?

“Am not, I just…”

“You just what? Prove to me you aren’t jealous.”

“Why should I be?”

“I don’t know, you probably find some reason in that fucked up brain of yours.”

He was already a little bit drunk. He was always a little bit drunk those days. I tried to calm myself down, this was going nowhere.

“I just thought I’d take you out, is all.”

“Well, that’s nice, but Bam’s here, I’ll go out with you when he’s gone, okay?”

“I don’t get why you’d rather spend time with that idiot American fangirl than with your real friends, I really don’t.”

“And I don’t get why you care so much! I don’t freak out when you spend time with your weird jailbird friends, do I? It’s just Bam, Lily. Jesus Christ.”

“That’s because I almost never spend time with them.”

“You need to get yourself a life then.”

“I have one.”

“It just happens to revolve around me, huh?”

That hurt. The arrogance got my hackles up. I was angry - but mostly, I was hurt.

“You’re the one that …”

“That what, Lily? Took you out of school, gave you confidence, put you in a world famous band, let you live in my house, sleep in my bed? Yeah, Lily, I’ve really done wrong by you. Shit, I’m sorry, how can you ever forgive me?”

“You don’t get it, do you? You really don’t. You go and waste your time with that … that… weird, obsessive fangirl, you don’t even see what you’ve got here.”

“What have I got here then? Why shouldn’t I spend time with Bam? He’s my friend!”

He pushed me away from him; I stumbled backwards, almost fell over. There were tears in my eyes, I was falling apart, he was going to leave me for Bam and I’d be helpless, I could just see it. I wasn’t thinking straight. That’s why I let it out. That’s why I opened my mouth and said it. I wasn’t thinking straight.

“But I love you.”

He stared at me. It wasn’t just shock on his face. It was almost horror. And then he started shaking his head, quickly, trying to shake the sound of my words out of his ears.

“No, no you don’t. No, you don’t Lily. You don’t love me.”

“Yes, I do, you fucking idiot. I love you and I always have.”

I was crying now, I couldn’t help it, crying like a little girl. I thought he would do something horrible. Sneer at me, laugh at me, make fun of me. But he didn’t. I watched his anger melt away and he came and took me to the couch, sat down next to me, a hand on my back.

“No, you don’t, Lintti, you can’t.”

“I assure you, I do.”

He was quiet for a long time, rubbing my back, trying to soothe my tears, mulling things over in his head. I could tell. I could almost hear his thoughts ticking against his skull.

“Lily… Mikko… I don’t know what to say.”

“You could say you loved me too?” It was pathetically hopeful, we both knew that.

“You know I love you, but not like that, Lily. You’ll always be my best friend but…”

“Ville, best friends don’t fuck.”

I spat it out, because I already knew what was going to happen. He was going to leave me for Bam because Bam wasn’t looking for love and neither was he. I was scared of what he would say after that. But he was just silent. Silent for a very, very long time. And then….

“Linde, maybe it’s best if you started to sleep in the other room.”

Cold. Heartless. Straight to the point. Ville to the very core.

He didn’t want me any more. If I was going to be like this, he didn’t want anything to do with me.

And what would I do about it? What was there to do?

I just nodded, gritting my teeth.

“Sure, whatever.”

He took his hand away from my back, stood up slowly, watching me as if I was a time bomb about to go off.

“I’m going now.”

“Yeah, you do that.”

“I’ll be back later.”

“No, you won’t.”

“Linde…”

“Just shut up and go play with your toy, Ville. I guess that’s all you want anyways.”

“I’m sorry, Barbie. I really am.”

“Don’t lie to me, Ville.”

“You should have told me sooner.”

“What difference would it have made!?” I was angry, why wouldn’t he just go? I looked up at him, red faced, tears still streaming. “No difference. None at all. Just go, Ville, have fun with your toyboy. You’re not doing any good here, anyways.”

I put my face into my hands, breathing deep, trying to control myself. All I heard was the quiet click of the door as he left.

And just as I knew it would… everything went downhill from there.

rps, smoking, villinde, vam, story

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