[FIC] Friends
so i havent really been posting or going on vam for a while, been despiratly trying to get all my work done for the end of uni, you know the deal: panicing, swearing, tearing my hair out, holding back the tears....
To make matters SO much better i have crippled myself, i am without a right hand (yes, i am right handed) for three more weeks, as in completely without, i cant move my wrist without wanting to burst into tears... ahhh the joys and hazards of being a visual arts student. and majoring in drawing and sub majoring in printmaking, good bye wrist! it was nice knowing you. (feel the seething resentment and annoyance.)
so because of this i havent done any writing, though i currently have about ideas and peices in the works, most are even plotted out... cant wait till i can focus on them.
Enough about me, as i have been misirable and procrastinating like a mofo, i watched endless clips of the boys, and ALOT of ville, this one popped into my head and set its claws in so i simply HAD to write it (one handed and pathetic looking but despirate to get it out.) and just so you know, this is about as many words long as i need for my FINAL essay, which... *sob* i just cant do. *sigh* enough of my patheicness, on with the vam!
Title: Friends
Characters/ pairings: Ville/Bam. Mige
Rating: R to be safe
Warnings: sexy times, is that a warning? bit angsty, Unbeta'd, prolly badly written, it was popped out super fast...
Summary: "He couldn’t deny, at least not in the safety of his own mind, that he was jealous of their relationship, of Mige’s place in Ville's world. " Bam musing about his and ville's relationship.
Authors Note: in no way Mige/Ville, coz... yuck. maybe if you sqinted, contorted youself into unrecommended pose's and wore dark sunglasses you could see some, but no. coz, yuck.
pretty much all was said above, read and review, because thats love and love is important.
He couldn’t deny, at least not in the safety of his own mind, that he was jealous of their relationship, of Mige’s place in Ville's world. He was there when Ville came into himself, started to wear makeup and girls clothing, played with his hair and wondered what people thought of him changed it every other week trying to get a reaction, or maybe not get one he never really knew. He got to watch as Ville went from a lanky, thin adolescent to the lithe sensual figure he was now. He’d been there every step, every fumble, to hear about every beating and blowjob and in turn shared his own tales with Ville’s young listening ears.
If Bam was painfully, brutally honest, which he wasn’t often, he was jealous of the way they could have fun so easily; they’d laugh and muck around sober, drunk, running on adrenaline, it didn’t matter, Mige just knew how to make Ville laugh; they had so many inside jokes it was almost painful to be near them sometimes.
He’s not denying they have a good relationship too, an enviable one really. They had their own inside jokes, their own secrets and stories, Bam could make Ville laugh so hard he had an asthma attack, could make him smile at Bam adoringly with a mixture of fondness and resignation that Bam thought only Ape would ever be able to pull off. They’d had their moments, on camera and off, laughed and joked and mucked around too many times to count. And even more than that, they’d let hands wander, let lips and tongues explore and had shared embarrassing confessions and groundbreaking personal experiences. Ville had been there to sooth Bam, shaking and gasping and near tears when Bam had come shamelessly all over himself without his cock being touched once when Ville had fingered him for twenty minutes whispering in his heavy, thick accent a thousand dirty, filthy things in his ear, eyes watching sharply as the excitement built and built until Bam had no choice, no sense, no damn care in the world except more more more.
He always kinda wondered if Ville and Mige had ever had that kind of past, he watched their effortless ease with each other, their blatant teasing and knowing looks and wondered if it was possible, if Mige had watched Ville ride himself into oblivion on his cock like Bam has, watch as Ville’s elegant, almost felinely graceful movements became jerky and erratic like his breath as he strained to keep himself moving, keep Bam hitting the right place inside him again and again until Bam couldn’t stand the sight and the sounds and the taste anymore and begged, yes begged Ville to cum all over him.
Bam knew they were friends, good friends, best friends. Knew Ville would be there on the other end of the phone at a moment’s notice to listen to him rant and rave or fawn over whoever it was that had caught his eye this time. Ville had sat patient and quiet on more occasions then Bam cared to admit to, even in his own mind, when Bam had confessed, wide eyed and pale how scary it was sometimes, the fans, the media the whole fucking world watching his every move. How horrible some of them were, ruthlessly tearing him to verbal pieces, and how it hurt when they completely and utterly didn’t understand him. In return Bam had returned the favour, listened to Ville sob over another broken heart, scream and rage about The Business, that the Business had no fucking business getting involved with music because what the fuck would a bunch on straight faced corporate jokers know about music and rock and poetry?
They were friends; friends who occasionally indulged the more primal elements of the human condition when they were safe under the warm blanket of intoxication and solitude. They were friends, friends with benefits and bloody good friends at that, but when Bam watched him with Mige, casual lounging and jokes that only needed to be alluded to before Ville was laughing; and he realised they would never be friends like that.
No matter how close they got Bam would always be a fan, would always admire him from a distance as much as up close; he would never be a part of the music no matter how many music videos he made for them. And then there would always be that unnamed tension between them, the unspoken thrill, razor sharpened edge whenever their eyes locked, fingers touched and Bam knew, he knew he’d be on his back later, thighs spread wide letting his body be ploughed and taken, letting Ville pound his soul into submission and gasping for more and faster and please god, more. Or instead watch Ville above him, resting on his bent knees as he took Bam closer then Bam though possible gasping and keening and locking eyes with a transfixed Bam and pouting bruised red lips and seeming to say simultaneously that fuck he’d never felt this good and that he still wanted to taste every inch of him, that tense, strained unfulfilled screaming tension that was like a wave poised before crashing to shore, or the moment when the board lifted up from the ramp and there was nothing he could do to change its course now and he would either land it or stack it, it was just a matter of waiting to find out. It hurt every time he came to that realisation, that as good a friends as they are, there would always be those two things holding them apart, and half a lifetime Mige had on him he wondered if he would ever catch up.
A/N please review!