The Prettiest Thing
“Juska and Gas, Mige. Mizee, Juska and Gas. Let’s play.” Ville bounced from foot to foot, completely pumped to be playing as a full band again.
They were a bit clumsy at first, feeling each other out, finding a rhythm and finding their groove. After three songs, something clicked and sounds started to meld perfectly. Ville let out a loud whoop, and jumped up as high as he could. “That’s it!” he cried. “That’s absolutely it. Do Rebel Yell again.”
Two hours in, and they were all sweaty and euphoric, having found their sound. “We’re going to kick ass at that Battle of the Bands,” Linde grinned, currently squashed in a pub booth between Juska and Gas.
Ville and Mige sat across from them, making out like they were the only two in the room. Ville finally pulled away, grinning madly and nodding his head. “We’re going to blow them all away.” He slapped a hand over Mige’s mouth to preempt the obligatory bowjob joke he knew was coming.
Mige grinned and licked Ville’s palm. He chuckled when his boyfriend absently wiped his hand on Mige’s shirt. “We’re going to need a few more rehearsals, lads.” He looked at his incredibly inebriated lover. “And some food.” Getting up, he went to the bartender to order some food.
Ville watched him go, watching his muscles play under the tee shirt he wore. “Didn’t I tell you he was gorgeous?”
Juska snickered. “The two of you do look adorable together,” he said diplomatically. He poked at Gas. “You’re as quiet as Linde, here. What’s all that, then?”
Gas just shrugged. “Just thinking,” he said in his heavily accented voice. “If we practice some more, we really do have a good chance of winning. Or at least getting some serious attention.”
“Of course we have,” Ville scoffed.
Shrugging a bit, Linde peered at his best friend. “You can’t get your hopes up too high, Ville. It’s in a week. We only have five or six days to rehearse. Don’t go straining your voice. Or anything else,” he added with a smirk.
“I can still sing with a chafed pecker and a sore arse.” Ville grinned as the rest of the band groaned. “What? Was it something I said?”
The week was spent rehearsing every single minute that they could get together. Ville got twitchier as the show crept up on them, and Mige spent most of his free time calming the younger boy down. Juska bit his nails to the quick, but managed to cover the remains in black polish. Linda and Gas sat back and watched, both knowing they were as tight as they were going to get in a week and deciding not to fret over the rest.
Ville lined his eyes thickly. “Our first show,” he whispered. He looked down at the brown bell bottoms he wore, in case he ‘shit his pants’, as he had told Linde. “Can you believe it, Mimi? It’s finally happening.”
Mige smiled, lovingly setting a hand at the base of Ville’s neck and squeezing gently. “I know. You always told me we’d get here. But Vilpertti… If we don’t win-“
“Of course we’ll win.”
“If we don’t,” Mige continued doggedly. “You needn’t to fret over it. We’ll win the next one. We’ll just work harder, and we’ll know how these things work-“
Interrupting once more, Ville shook his head, putting on a bit of lip gloss and smoothing his curly hair. “We’re going to be just fine. We’re going to be brilliant.” He nodded decisively and stood. “Oh, god…”
Watching him rush to the lav, hearing the sounds of him sicking up the little dinner he had managed to eat, Mige sighed. “Gonna go get him a shot and beer. Back in a mo’.”
Linde pulled Ville close, using a wet paper towel to wipe at his mouth. “We’re going to be just aces, Ville. Don’t worry about it.” He let the younger boy cuddle close, taking deep breaths with him. “There’s fifteen minutes before we go on, Viltsu. So you need to pull it together, okay?”
Nodding, Ville sat up, gratefully accepting the shot Mige handed him. He downed it quickly and started on the beer, the alcohol bringing back his confidence. “Okay. I’m okay. Let’s go fuck them up.”
After the show, Ville was grinning like a madman. “We totally kicked their arses! We were fucking brilliant!”
“Good on us,” Linde murmured, smiling. He watched Ville hand out pre-printed cards to anyone who looked at him twice. The cards had the band name, the logo that Ville had come up with whilst in his cups, and Ville’s phone number. “Well, we’ll be well known one way or the other.”
“Maybe as porn stars, the way they’re looking at him,” Juska muttered with a grin.
They were celebrating with a few beers and a hash pipe when they were informed they had taken second place. Even Linde joined in the loud cheering session. He and Gas moved to stand before Mige and Ville, who were sharing a triumphant kiss, blocking them from prying eyes.
Squealing happily, Juska pumped a fist in the air. “Yeah! Fuck yeah!” He plopped down in Mige’s lap and gave Ville a smacking kiss on the cheek. “We totally rocked so hardcore!”
Smiling indulgently at the younger boy, Ville nodded. “That we did, sweetheart. Now please get that pretty arse off my boyfriend’s lap.” He grinned as Juska flushed and stood, kissing the top of Mige’s head as he did so.
Mige burst into Ville’s small flat, smiling wide, one hand behind his back, and the other brandishing a bunch of flowers. “Happy anniversary, baby.”
“You remembered!” Ville flung himself at his lover, raining kisses all over his face. He sniffed carefully at the flowers, not wanting to trigger his allergies. Eyeing the hand behind Mige’s back, he grinned. “You got me something?”
“Course I did,” Mige scoffed. “Nothing special, just a few little-“ He was cut off by Ville braying laugh of delight, long arms reaching for the bag he held. “Not yet, you greedy little- Oh, hell. Here.”
Ville took the bag and plopped onto the couch, pawing through it. He came up with a green silk scarf that went down to his knees. “Oh, this is just gorgeous.”
“It’ll match your eyes.” Mige kissed Ville’s forehead, going to grab them some beers.
Digging deeper, Ville found a small box containing a black crystal rosary. He held it up, admiring the way the light caught at the beads, the silver crucifix. Slipping it over his head, he beamed down at it. “You have great taste, darling.”
Chuckling, Mige handed over a beer. “Yeah. Sleeping with the hottest piece of ass in Helsinki, aren’t I? Only the best, says I.” He grinned and nudged Ville with his knee. “There’s a new eyeliner in there as well. Stealing your mother’s is just wrong. You’re nearly nineteen.”
“I have the best present for you,” Ville declared. “Ever. Well, two presents. One is sex. Your night. We’ll do anything you like, I’ll be anything you want. The other one is the good one.”
“Slow down and breathe,” Mige laughed. “The sex sounds great, but what’s this other gift?”
Ville grinned, trying to draw out the suspense as long as he could. “I was handing out those cards at the show, and got a few calls… I sorted some of them out and…”
“You’re killing me, honey.”
“We’re going on a three month tour.”
Yeah. That was the end. I know, I think so too.