So... a title kind of stumped me (written for Wickedend123)
Titte: Room For One More
Author: Lila Kane (lilafilly2)
Rating: PG-13
Summary: In which Ville discovers "settling" isn't really settling if it feels right.
Disclaimer: I DO, DK. Fiction, my friends.
Warning: Alluded mpreg.
Author's Notes: After way too long a time trying to get something out this piece came to me as I was falling asleep after watching Six Feet Under. I suppose the only relation it has to the show would be the importance individual moments/decisions in our lives really have on, well, ourselves and those who surround us.
Written for: Wickedend123. I hope this can be counted amongst the raddest Christmas gifts you've ever gotten.
Ville coughed as he swept the dust onto his face.
"Shit- shit-" This was what he got for helping Bam clean house, a face full of allergens.
"Are you okay?"
Rubbing the dust out of his eyes (though it felt the other way around) Ville squinted until he could make out the shape of a little boy standing in the doorway.
"Oh, Sean- shit. What was that?"
"Are you okay?"
"Mhm, yeah, I'm fine. Got some dust in my eyes. What do you want?"
Sean, his brow furrowed, wanted to press the matter but didn't. Instead he said "Dad wanted to know if you were hungry."
"I am, tell him I'll be down in a bit."
"What do you want to eat?"
"Whatever he wants to order, just make sure he gets something vegetarian. Please and thank you."
"He's making the food."
"Oh," Ville turned, his eye still stinging, and began dusting the shelf carefully, "Then, whatever he can make is fine. He knows what I like." Just as he was lifting a picture frame Sean yelped; before he knew it the frame was yanked from his grip and the boy was glowering at him.
"Don't. Touch. This."
"Sean, Bam sent me to clean. I'm doing my job-"
"This isn't yours! Who told you you could come in my room?"
"Fine! Put it down and I won't-"
"Get out! Get out! You shouldn't be in here! Don't touch my things!"
Ville growled but resisted the urge to throw the duster at Sean's feet. All the boy needed to do was start complaining of abuse by Swifter duster and Bam would surely get rid of him. His footsteps echoed as he went in search of Bam. He found him in the Pirate Bar messing about with sandwich supplies.
"Want to go up there and tell your son I was only doing as I was asked?"
"What happened? I heard him yelling." Bam was barely paying any attention to him. He seemed a bit absent minded.
"I was cleaning his room and when I wanted to dust a picture he flipped."
"Oh. Oh, yeah, it's him and his Daddy. Novak, you know? He hates anyone touching it."
"Well, fuck he didn't have to-"
"Sean can finish his room by himself. In fact he'll probably want to stay up there for a while. We can have lunch alone." The skater handed Ville two plates and motioned over at the table. "You don't mind do you? I didn't feel like cooking."
"No, 'course not. I was hoping we could get a bit of time to ourselves at some point." He perched on his stool while Bam got a soda out of the fridge. "You're not having a beer?"
"Don't really want one right now." They sat in silence for a minute as they dug in. "Ville, you love me right? You like living here?"
Ville studied Bam, but with his eyes lowered it was hard to tell what he was baiting for. "I do love you. I'm glad I came. You know it's not exactly a taxi ride over, babe. I wouldn't be here if I didn't want to be.
Bam nodded, taking another bite. Ville decided it was best to wait him out. They were nearly finished with lunch before he spoke.
"Do you like Sean? I only ask because I know that since he's not yours, and with me more or less springing him on you it gets weird. He's not very little so it's not like he doesn't remember Novak, and I know he can be difficult, but I don't want to pile on responsibility if- if you don't want it." he sighed, tearing at his shirt sleeve. "I've changed a lot because of Sean. I love him more than anyone in the world. Even- even more than you. I thought Novak might be able to pull through, but ,well, you know how that ended." Bam finally looked up, trying to gage Ville's reaction. The Finn was never very good at hiding his feelings.
"I can't be with someone if I can't rely on them for other things. Especially when it comes to Sean. I know you haven't been here long and you're barely getting to know each other, but I think it's for the best if I know where you stand now. This doesn't mean we can't be together from time to time, just that eventually we- we- shit I don't know."
"Bammie, you're asking a lot- no, actually this is the most practical I've ever seen you." Ville smiled weakly, "It's not that I don't like him, or could even come to love him too; I'm not ready to take that on. You know me, you know how I get. I'm gone more than you, I have a home on the other side of the world that I'd like to go back to. It wouldn't be fair to Sean if we got close and then decided to uproot him, or if I wanted to go to Helsinki for a time and he couldn't come along. It'd leave him, it would leave you both in the same place."
Bam put his face in his hands, rubbing his eyes.
"I'm sorry. I don't know how to make this any less brutal."
"I understand. You're right. We're adults, V, and I have a son, I think we'll be okay." He rested his head in his hand. "I wish it could be different sometimes."
"No you don't. If that were true you'd be wishing Sean away."
"I meant I wish he was yours to begin with."
Ville coughed. "Ha. That'd be brilliant. If he were mine, if we'd had him at the same time, he'd have a sad alcoholic for his other father instead of a heroin addict. Not a whole lot of improvement there."
Bam chuckled. "I guess you're right."
"Maybe in a differ- oh, hey." Ville was cut short by Sean's entry into the Pirate Bar. The boy had come downstairs without so much as a squeak and he wondered how much he'd heard. Bam turned and opened his arms.
"Ready for lunch?"
"Yes. What am I having?" asked Sean as he climbed on a stool with his father's help.
Ville smiled softly, imagining the huge contrast between this boy and what he imagined Bam was like at his age. No doubt nine-year-old Brandon would have screamed for macaroni and cheese.
"I made sandwiches. Do you want mustard on yours?"
"No. Can I get the orange soda?"
"Get a can out of the fridge." Sean hopped down and went for one. Bam brought over his son's food and sat down.
"Did you finish cleaning?"
"Yeah." Sean popped up onto the stool sans help. He avoided looking at Ville as he said "Sorry about the picture. I don't like anyone grabbing it. It's special."
"I should have asked."
Sean shrugged, accepting his apology, and started chattering about some new movie he wanted to see, his best friend's birthday next week, and any number of things that ran through his mine. Ville imagined living like this everyday. Coming home from tour to a son and a husband, taking them to Helsinki for a holiday (or, if he had his way, bringing them to West Chester to visit family), maybe adding another. He doubted any of it would ever come to pass though. When Ville said he was gone for longer intervals he meant mentally as well. What kind of attention could he give Sean if he was busy writing? He practically lived in his own world for months. There was no way he could stay near them and be able to work; there would be too much drawing his attention away from the music.
It was too bad really. He loved Bam, and because Sean was an extension of him he loved him too (even if there were rocky times). Living at Caslte Bam for a few months had done him some good. He no longer teased the others about their (in his mind) excessive back-breaking efforts to please their children. It felt good to see Sean happy. Usually Bam followed suit, save for the one time Ville snuck Sean a cupcake whilst he was grounded, and when Bam was happy he had no trouble showing his appreciation.
Maybe in another...
Ville grabbed Bam's hand, intertwining their fingers. Bam looked at him curiously out of the corner of his eye, trying to keep his attention on Sean.
"You know, I think I'll have some stuff shipped over. Extra clothes, you know, just in case. How does that sound?"
"Hold on, Sean. What? Why?"
"If I'm staying here I need stuff. I doubt there's anything in West Chester made long enough for me, and there's no way I'm walking around in your tiny clothes."
"Oh." Bam's eyes widened. "Oh, fu- I mean, cool. If you're sure..."
"We'll take it one day at a time. Now, I think Sean was explaining why cartoons pulling objects from behind their backs would be a physical possibility if they owned black holes. I think the scientists in Geneva will want to know about this, don't you?"
Bam snorted, his eyes narrowed playfully. "Later."
"Later."