Come Here Boy
Title: Come Here Boy
Genre: Drama, Oneshot
Rating: PG
Pairing: RPS, Villinde
Disclaimer: Don't know, Don't Own, Never Happened. Lyrics from Imogen Heap's song Come Here Boy.
Author's Note: For nimeni_on_irene, because she asked me to write it for her. If you can, read this with the above song playing - it was written to it and I think it should be read to it too.
Somewhere, a piano was playing. Warm cadences of chords, up and down the scale, twisting and winding around each other, spirals of notes and sounds, gentle minor modulations and then a showering of major triplets; fingers flew up and down the keys, a never ending river of sound. Somewhere, a piano was playing, but Linde thought his ears must be playing tricks on him - there was no piano in his house.
It’s dark in here
Visions are flashing into my head
As I reminisce
My reoccuring dreams and you said
He closed his eyes, tried to close his ears, pulled a pillow over them and clamped it to his head. Manna was asleep next to him, she couldn’t hear anything, obviously it was all just in his mind. This was going to drive him crazy. He couldn’t sleep. The piano would have soothed him into it if he didn’t see Ville’s face burned into the back of his eyes every time he closed them. If every time he closed his eyes he didn’t see Ville running around his mind, if every time the city quieted down for night, he didn’t hear Ville speaking to him in hush tones, that one time, that one time so long ago…
I’m falling, falling for you babe,
And my feelings are gettin stronger,
So why don’t you stay with me for a
For a little longer
Lily was drunk, drunker than he’d ever been in all of his 18 years; he was drunk and naked and Ville was laying next to him, drunk and naked too, heaving and panting with the exertion of what they just did. Words were falling from Ville’s mouth but Lily paid them no attention, he tried to move but he couldn’t, he was too drunk, he felt like he was watching the scene from outside of his own body, he couldn’t believe what had happened, what he’d let Ville do. Ville was speaking words of love and lust and want, Lily I’ve wanted to do that since we were 10 years old, Lily are you listening to me, Lily? Lily shook his head and tried to move again but the sheets of Ville’s bed were like a spiderweb and he couldn’t get free, even though he was trying - but he couldn’t even get his limbs to move. Ville smiled and climbed back up his body to kiss him all over, Lily I love you - his limbs kicked in and he jumped up and the sheets came with him, and Ville went tumbling to the floor, and he shook his head no, you don’t love me, you can’t, we can’t do this, where are my clothes, what the fuck were we doing? Ville sat on the floor with his knees pulled up to his chest and shrugged, said, I love you Lily, why don’t you stay, just give it a chance?
Linde thrashed over; the piano was still playing and Manna’s comforting scent was suffocating him. Ten years and he still hadn’t forgotten how Ville’s sweat smelt mingling with his; ten years and he still had dreams, dreams where everyone was played by Ville, where Ville was chasing him, where Ville was gently reminding him that he loved him and he always would, where he turned over in bed to give Manna a hug and found Ville’s face instead. And now this damned piano; it wasn’t the first night that the piano had played in his head, and it was slowly driving him crazy, even though the song, on repeat, over and over again in his head, was a nice one, a lovely one, one of Ville’s favorites, that Ville used to play for him when they were kids, soft rolling melodies and chords… it was only a matter of days before Ville’s voice started attacking him in his head too and he didn’t know what he’d do… He was fighting, so hard, he’d been fighting it since he was 18 and sobered up laying in bed naked next to him… he fought it every time Ville trailed his fingers over his shoulders, every time he pressed him close in a hug, every time he got drunk and whispered to him that he would always love him, that some day, he’d get what he wanted.
Come here boy,
Oh come here boy,
Come here boy
Oh come here boy
I know that my face
Is only too familiar to your sleep
I can see it in your eyes
I can tell by your body heat
Ville sat at his apartment, in amongst the piles of empty beer cans and pizza boxes, behind the windows covered in garbage bags, with eyes burning from the lack of sleep. He sat at his piano, playing the same song over and over again, not thinking about it anymore, his fingers had minds of their own as the flew over the keys nimbly. He hummed the melody to himself, didn’t sing it, he didn’t have the heart to sing it right now, his mind was somewhere else, on the other side of the city where Linde was laying in bed with his wife, who Ville couldn’t bring himself to hate even though she was laying where he should be. He knew full well that Linde never slept well anymore, and he knew exactly why too. He knew that every time he touched him it sent him into conniptions of worry, regret, and stubbornness. He knew that Linde had spent most of his life for 10 years fighting him off. He also knew that he’d never give up, and that eventually… Linde would crack.
Why are you taking so long
You need to come and find me, honey
To set your mind at rest
And let your dreams run free.
Ville sat at his apartment and his fingers flew effortlessly over the keys without him even thinking about it. His head bent and his eyes closed with the passion of it, totally lost in the soft cadences and swirling spirals of notes. He didn’t know what time of the night or day it was, the garbage bags on the windows blocked out all the light anyways; he sighed in time to the music and played the song once more before he had to stop with fatigue. Shaking his head, he rose from the piano and went to the window, peeled a little bit of the garbage bags back so he could look out at the city a little - it was night after all, the stars blended in with the lights and his bleary eyes couldn’t tell where the city ended and the sky began. His thoughts were still with his best friend, his life partner in crime, laying in his bed with his wife on the other side of the city, thrashing around, hopelessly trying to get to sleep.
You know, I’m no stranger in your dreams
Why doesn’t he just give up? Ville let the garbage bag fall back in place and pushed the junk off of his bed so that he could lie down on it, sighing. He wasn’t one to be so desperate for someone, not like this - but that’s a stupid thing to say because he’d been desperate for Linde since they were 18 and Linde came back from his college course in America and Ville realized that the reason he’d been crying over him for three years wasn’t because he was his best friend it was because he loved him, because he was part of him, because he would never be able to forget about him and how he completed him.
I’m craving I’m howling I’m begging and pleading
Be mine tonight
Sleep didn’t come to Ville and though the piano playing in Linde’s head had stopped, he couldn’t sleep either. It was worse than ever. It was as if there was some sort of deadly desperation in the air, as if something bad would happen if the music didn’t start again, or maybe it would be worse if the music did start again… Linde gasped for breath and Ville sat up in bed with his head in his hands, and Manna slept peacefully on, totally unaware, totally oblivious, and then the piano started playing again and Linde couldn’t take it anymore.
Oh and I’m waiting I’m dying, I’m wanting and needing
To show you a night
Linde hurried across the city, it was dead asleep anyways, nothing moved, just a few empty taxis; even the bars were empty now, it was that hour of the morning where nothing is happening and everything is dead, quiet, silent, except for the piano music undulating around Linde’s fevered mind. He wasn’t thinking any more, and Ville’s hands flew over the piano keys, growing desperate, despairing almost, the same tune over and over again, until it was interrupted by the doorbell, and he shot up out of his piano stool, hurried over to the door and let the late night caller in - maybe he even already knew who it was.
Where Ill be touching and holding caressing and giving you
Your every fantasy
Ill get you dreaming and lusting burning and praying
For more of this ecstasy.
Linde stepped through the door and looked down at his feet, Ville stood there with his hands by his sides, neither of them knew what to do until they both moved at the same time into each other’s arms and heated kisses. We shouldn’t be doing this, said Linde, we shouldn’t be doing this and I shouldn’t be here, but he kissed back anyways, slid his tongue over Ville’s lips just as Ville was asking him, well then why did you come, and all Linde could say was I couldn’t help it, I couldn’t fight it anymore, I need you like you need me and I’m sorry. But Ville didn’t want apologies and he didn’t want excuses, he kissed Linde firmly and pulled his coat and his shirt off, no questions asked and no bushes to beat around, and they fell to the bed in a state of total undress, rubbing hungry and heated bodies up against each other like they had wanted to for 10 years, finally taking what they needed, had hungered for for so long, and when it was over in quick bursts of passion and panting and shouted I love yous they lay against each other sweaty and gasping for breath, but this time Linde could move his limbs and he could think properly, he could move his arms around Ville’s shaking body and pull it close, and he could press a soft kiss to Ville’s head, and he forgot all about the home he had left behind because he’d needed this, and why had he run from it for so long?
You know, I’m no stranger in your dreams
Somewhere a piano was playing, and warm cadences caressed the two sleeping friends tangled together on a bed, an island in the sea of chaos that was Ville’s apartment; and in the morning they’d wake and kiss and part, and one would go back to his wife and the other back to his music, but when the piano was playing and those chords fell on the soft night air, there would be no more fighting their pull.
Genre: Drama, Oneshot
Rating: PG
Pairing: RPS, Villinde
Disclaimer: Don't know, Don't Own, Never Happened. Lyrics from Imogen Heap's song Come Here Boy.
Author's Note: For nimeni_on_irene, because she asked me to write it for her. If you can, read this with the above song playing - it was written to it and I think it should be read to it too.
Somewhere, a piano was playing. Warm cadences of chords, up and down the scale, twisting and winding around each other, spirals of notes and sounds, gentle minor modulations and then a showering of major triplets; fingers flew up and down the keys, a never ending river of sound. Somewhere, a piano was playing, but Linde thought his ears must be playing tricks on him - there was no piano in his house.
It’s dark in here
Visions are flashing into my head
As I reminisce
My reoccuring dreams and you said
He closed his eyes, tried to close his ears, pulled a pillow over them and clamped it to his head. Manna was asleep next to him, she couldn’t hear anything, obviously it was all just in his mind. This was going to drive him crazy. He couldn’t sleep. The piano would have soothed him into it if he didn’t see Ville’s face burned into the back of his eyes every time he closed them. If every time he closed his eyes he didn’t see Ville running around his mind, if every time the city quieted down for night, he didn’t hear Ville speaking to him in hush tones, that one time, that one time so long ago…
I’m falling, falling for you babe,
And my feelings are gettin stronger,
So why don’t you stay with me for a
For a little longer
Lily was drunk, drunker than he’d ever been in all of his 18 years; he was drunk and naked and Ville was laying next to him, drunk and naked too, heaving and panting with the exertion of what they just did. Words were falling from Ville’s mouth but Lily paid them no attention, he tried to move but he couldn’t, he was too drunk, he felt like he was watching the scene from outside of his own body, he couldn’t believe what had happened, what he’d let Ville do. Ville was speaking words of love and lust and want, Lily I’ve wanted to do that since we were 10 years old, Lily are you listening to me, Lily? Lily shook his head and tried to move again but the sheets of Ville’s bed were like a spiderweb and he couldn’t get free, even though he was trying - but he couldn’t even get his limbs to move. Ville smiled and climbed back up his body to kiss him all over, Lily I love you - his limbs kicked in and he jumped up and the sheets came with him, and Ville went tumbling to the floor, and he shook his head no, you don’t love me, you can’t, we can’t do this, where are my clothes, what the fuck were we doing? Ville sat on the floor with his knees pulled up to his chest and shrugged, said, I love you Lily, why don’t you stay, just give it a chance?
Linde thrashed over; the piano was still playing and Manna’s comforting scent was suffocating him. Ten years and he still hadn’t forgotten how Ville’s sweat smelt mingling with his; ten years and he still had dreams, dreams where everyone was played by Ville, where Ville was chasing him, where Ville was gently reminding him that he loved him and he always would, where he turned over in bed to give Manna a hug and found Ville’s face instead. And now this damned piano; it wasn’t the first night that the piano had played in his head, and it was slowly driving him crazy, even though the song, on repeat, over and over again in his head, was a nice one, a lovely one, one of Ville’s favorites, that Ville used to play for him when they were kids, soft rolling melodies and chords… it was only a matter of days before Ville’s voice started attacking him in his head too and he didn’t know what he’d do… He was fighting, so hard, he’d been fighting it since he was 18 and sobered up laying in bed naked next to him… he fought it every time Ville trailed his fingers over his shoulders, every time he pressed him close in a hug, every time he got drunk and whispered to him that he would always love him, that some day, he’d get what he wanted.
Come here boy,
Oh come here boy,
Come here boy
Oh come here boy
I know that my face
Is only too familiar to your sleep
I can see it in your eyes
I can tell by your body heat
Ville sat at his apartment, in amongst the piles of empty beer cans and pizza boxes, behind the windows covered in garbage bags, with eyes burning from the lack of sleep. He sat at his piano, playing the same song over and over again, not thinking about it anymore, his fingers had minds of their own as the flew over the keys nimbly. He hummed the melody to himself, didn’t sing it, he didn’t have the heart to sing it right now, his mind was somewhere else, on the other side of the city where Linde was laying in bed with his wife, who Ville couldn’t bring himself to hate even though she was laying where he should be. He knew full well that Linde never slept well anymore, and he knew exactly why too. He knew that every time he touched him it sent him into conniptions of worry, regret, and stubbornness. He knew that Linde had spent most of his life for 10 years fighting him off. He also knew that he’d never give up, and that eventually… Linde would crack.
Why are you taking so long
You need to come and find me, honey
To set your mind at rest
And let your dreams run free.
Ville sat at his apartment and his fingers flew effortlessly over the keys without him even thinking about it. His head bent and his eyes closed with the passion of it, totally lost in the soft cadences and swirling spirals of notes. He didn’t know what time of the night or day it was, the garbage bags on the windows blocked out all the light anyways; he sighed in time to the music and played the song once more before he had to stop with fatigue. Shaking his head, he rose from the piano and went to the window, peeled a little bit of the garbage bags back so he could look out at the city a little - it was night after all, the stars blended in with the lights and his bleary eyes couldn’t tell where the city ended and the sky began. His thoughts were still with his best friend, his life partner in crime, laying in his bed with his wife on the other side of the city, thrashing around, hopelessly trying to get to sleep.
You know, I’m no stranger in your dreams
Why doesn’t he just give up? Ville let the garbage bag fall back in place and pushed the junk off of his bed so that he could lie down on it, sighing. He wasn’t one to be so desperate for someone, not like this - but that’s a stupid thing to say because he’d been desperate for Linde since they were 18 and Linde came back from his college course in America and Ville realized that the reason he’d been crying over him for three years wasn’t because he was his best friend it was because he loved him, because he was part of him, because he would never be able to forget about him and how he completed him.
I’m craving I’m howling I’m begging and pleading
Be mine tonight
Sleep didn’t come to Ville and though the piano playing in Linde’s head had stopped, he couldn’t sleep either. It was worse than ever. It was as if there was some sort of deadly desperation in the air, as if something bad would happen if the music didn’t start again, or maybe it would be worse if the music did start again… Linde gasped for breath and Ville sat up in bed with his head in his hands, and Manna slept peacefully on, totally unaware, totally oblivious, and then the piano started playing again and Linde couldn’t take it anymore.
Oh and I’m waiting I’m dying, I’m wanting and needing
To show you a night
Linde hurried across the city, it was dead asleep anyways, nothing moved, just a few empty taxis; even the bars were empty now, it was that hour of the morning where nothing is happening and everything is dead, quiet, silent, except for the piano music undulating around Linde’s fevered mind. He wasn’t thinking any more, and Ville’s hands flew over the piano keys, growing desperate, despairing almost, the same tune over and over again, until it was interrupted by the doorbell, and he shot up out of his piano stool, hurried over to the door and let the late night caller in - maybe he even already knew who it was.
Where Ill be touching and holding caressing and giving you
Your every fantasy
Ill get you dreaming and lusting burning and praying
For more of this ecstasy.
Linde stepped through the door and looked down at his feet, Ville stood there with his hands by his sides, neither of them knew what to do until they both moved at the same time into each other’s arms and heated kisses. We shouldn’t be doing this, said Linde, we shouldn’t be doing this and I shouldn’t be here, but he kissed back anyways, slid his tongue over Ville’s lips just as Ville was asking him, well then why did you come, and all Linde could say was I couldn’t help it, I couldn’t fight it anymore, I need you like you need me and I’m sorry. But Ville didn’t want apologies and he didn’t want excuses, he kissed Linde firmly and pulled his coat and his shirt off, no questions asked and no bushes to beat around, and they fell to the bed in a state of total undress, rubbing hungry and heated bodies up against each other like they had wanted to for 10 years, finally taking what they needed, had hungered for for so long, and when it was over in quick bursts of passion and panting and shouted I love yous they lay against each other sweaty and gasping for breath, but this time Linde could move his limbs and he could think properly, he could move his arms around Ville’s shaking body and pull it close, and he could press a soft kiss to Ville’s head, and he forgot all about the home he had left behind because he’d needed this, and why had he run from it for so long?
You know, I’m no stranger in your dreams
Somewhere a piano was playing, and warm cadences caressed the two sleeping friends tangled together on a bed, an island in the sea of chaos that was Ville’s apartment; and in the morning they’d wake and kiss and part, and one would go back to his wife and the other back to his music, but when the piano was playing and those chords fell on the soft night air, there would be no more fighting their pull.