oritsu_luv
in
__vam
(no subject)
Hey all, this is my first post here! Hope you enjoy the fic!
Title: Merry Bam-mas.
Pairing: Ville Valo (HIM)/Bam Margera (Viva la Bam)
Rating:NC-17
Disclaimer: Not true in the slightest.
Summary: Because you just can't let a giant plexiglass Heartagram go to waste.
A/N: Christmas present for jaded_hopeless
Despite inept construction workers, a surprise fleet of joggers, and a lot of overtime, they’d finished shooting both of the new HIM videos, and they ready to be sent to Jose so he could at the computer graphics.
“Fucking finally!” Bam said, as he stood with Ville, watching the workers take apart the set. He’d always believed in the whole ‘if you want something done well, you’ve got to do it yourself’, although in his case doing it yourself generally meant ordering other people to do it exactly the way you wanted it done. He glanced at Ville.
“The videos are gonna fucking rock though. You looked fucking amazing.”
Ville was probably the only person that Bam would praise before himself. Of course, Ville was the only person that Bam would do a lot of things for.
He was rewarded with one of Ville’s elegant smiles.
“Thanks. But you know it’s a good director that makes a good video happen. All we have to do is not fuck the original idea up too much.”
Bam was caught between the urge to be modest, and the urge to preen.
“I only come up with such great ideas because the songs are so fucking great.” He said.
Ville had returned to watching them dismantle huge plexiglass heartagram. Bam watched it with him for a minute, and then he called,
“Hey, guys! Hold it for a second! Just leave that! I’m gonna take it back to Castle Bam with me!”
The workers nodded and promptly went off to work on a different of the set.
Ville turned to him. “You gonna put that in your bedroom, Bam-bam?” He asked, lips curving playfully.
“Will you fuck me under it, if I do?” Bam asked, eyes belying his playful tone.
Ville laughed his strange giggle. “Bam-bam, I will fuck you under it, on it, or in it.” The heat in his eyes shot straight to Bam’s cock.
“That better be a promise.” He said.
“Bam,” Ville answered. “It’s a fucking vow.”
“Shut the cameras off.” Bam ordered through the rush of adrenaline. “Shut them all the fuck off, and go home.”
He barely heard the murmurs of assent or complaint and the noises of the crew members leaving around him through the white noise of desire that buzzed through him as Ville grabbed his hand and lead him over to where the heartagram leaned against the wall. By the time they got there, both their shirts had been carelessly discarded on the floor.
Bam felt, rather than heard the doors to the studio slam shut as Ville pushed him up against the Heartagram, their hips flush.
“Oh fuck.” Bam breathed as Ville’s rosy lips caught his.
“Fuck yeah.” He tangled a hand in Ville’s shorn hair, running his other covetously down Ville’s naked chest. Ville’s hands were on his hips, wicked fingers tracing the tattoo there before they made short work of the zipper on his jeans.
Somehow Bam thought he could never get Ville’s pants down fast enough, hands always clumsy, almost shaking with lust. Ville didn’t seem to mind though, tongue fucking Bam’s mouth in a way that was anything but conducive to fine motor skills.
“Turn around.” Ville murmured into his mouth, and Bam did so, naked skin pressed against the smooth coolness of the plexiglass as he braced his arms on it. The heat of Ville’s skin never left his but for a moment, and then Ville slammed inside. No prep, but Bam had never really cared about the welfare of his body in the pursuit of a physical thrill. He turned his head desperately and Ville kissed him long and sweet through the slow burn.
And then Ville began to move, and urgency took the place of any niceties or gentleness.
“Fuck Bam-bam. You’re so fucking sweet.” Ville’s low voice was in his ear, the accented words caressing, as his thrusts slammed Bam’s hips into the plexiglass harder and harder.
“Fuck.” Bam said. Sex wasn’t about words to him, but that didn’t prevent Ville’s from having an effect on him. “Fuck. Harder, Ville.”
Ville’s chuckle was suffused with heat, cracking through Bam’s nerves.
“I’ll fucking break you.”
“That’s…the idea…” Bam got out.
Ville picked his pace up a notch, shoving in deeper, faster, harder and Bam was panting through the pleasure ripping through him. From the groans vibrating deep in his throat, Bam could feel Ville was close. Then an elegant hand wrapped around his cock and pumped, rings cold against him, and Bam lost it.
They lay against the Heartagram for a moment, catching their breath and riding out the aftershocks. Then Bam caught sight of the cum-splattered Heartagram, and started to laugh, mind spinning with possibilities. The roof would be too low, but fuck that, he’d just cut a hole in it…
“I’m gonna put this in Don Vito’s living room.” He said, manic grin splitting his face. “Without cleaning it off, of course.”
Ville laughed. “You’re one sick fuck, you know that, Bam?”
Bam just grinned wider. “So, you wanna help?”
Title: Merry Bam-mas.
Pairing: Ville Valo (HIM)/Bam Margera (Viva la Bam)
Rating:NC-17
Disclaimer: Not true in the slightest.
Summary: Because you just can't let a giant plexiglass Heartagram go to waste.
A/N: Christmas present for jaded_hopeless
Despite inept construction workers, a surprise fleet of joggers, and a lot of overtime, they’d finished shooting both of the new HIM videos, and they ready to be sent to Jose so he could at the computer graphics.
“Fucking finally!” Bam said, as he stood with Ville, watching the workers take apart the set. He’d always believed in the whole ‘if you want something done well, you’ve got to do it yourself’, although in his case doing it yourself generally meant ordering other people to do it exactly the way you wanted it done. He glanced at Ville.
“The videos are gonna fucking rock though. You looked fucking amazing.”
Ville was probably the only person that Bam would praise before himself. Of course, Ville was the only person that Bam would do a lot of things for.
He was rewarded with one of Ville’s elegant smiles.
“Thanks. But you know it’s a good director that makes a good video happen. All we have to do is not fuck the original idea up too much.”
Bam was caught between the urge to be modest, and the urge to preen.
“I only come up with such great ideas because the songs are so fucking great.” He said.
Ville had returned to watching them dismantle huge plexiglass heartagram. Bam watched it with him for a minute, and then he called,
“Hey, guys! Hold it for a second! Just leave that! I’m gonna take it back to Castle Bam with me!”
The workers nodded and promptly went off to work on a different of the set.
Ville turned to him. “You gonna put that in your bedroom, Bam-bam?” He asked, lips curving playfully.
“Will you fuck me under it, if I do?” Bam asked, eyes belying his playful tone.
Ville laughed his strange giggle. “Bam-bam, I will fuck you under it, on it, or in it.” The heat in his eyes shot straight to Bam’s cock.
“That better be a promise.” He said.
“Bam,” Ville answered. “It’s a fucking vow.”
“Shut the cameras off.” Bam ordered through the rush of adrenaline. “Shut them all the fuck off, and go home.”
He barely heard the murmurs of assent or complaint and the noises of the crew members leaving around him through the white noise of desire that buzzed through him as Ville grabbed his hand and lead him over to where the heartagram leaned against the wall. By the time they got there, both their shirts had been carelessly discarded on the floor.
Bam felt, rather than heard the doors to the studio slam shut as Ville pushed him up against the Heartagram, their hips flush.
“Oh fuck.” Bam breathed as Ville’s rosy lips caught his.
“Fuck yeah.” He tangled a hand in Ville’s shorn hair, running his other covetously down Ville’s naked chest. Ville’s hands were on his hips, wicked fingers tracing the tattoo there before they made short work of the zipper on his jeans.
Somehow Bam thought he could never get Ville’s pants down fast enough, hands always clumsy, almost shaking with lust. Ville didn’t seem to mind though, tongue fucking Bam’s mouth in a way that was anything but conducive to fine motor skills.
“Turn around.” Ville murmured into his mouth, and Bam did so, naked skin pressed against the smooth coolness of the plexiglass as he braced his arms on it. The heat of Ville’s skin never left his but for a moment, and then Ville slammed inside. No prep, but Bam had never really cared about the welfare of his body in the pursuit of a physical thrill. He turned his head desperately and Ville kissed him long and sweet through the slow burn.
And then Ville began to move, and urgency took the place of any niceties or gentleness.
“Fuck Bam-bam. You’re so fucking sweet.” Ville’s low voice was in his ear, the accented words caressing, as his thrusts slammed Bam’s hips into the plexiglass harder and harder.
“Fuck.” Bam said. Sex wasn’t about words to him, but that didn’t prevent Ville’s from having an effect on him. “Fuck. Harder, Ville.”
Ville’s chuckle was suffused with heat, cracking through Bam’s nerves.
“I’ll fucking break you.”
“That’s…the idea…” Bam got out.
Ville picked his pace up a notch, shoving in deeper, faster, harder and Bam was panting through the pleasure ripping through him. From the groans vibrating deep in his throat, Bam could feel Ville was close. Then an elegant hand wrapped around his cock and pumped, rings cold against him, and Bam lost it.
They lay against the Heartagram for a moment, catching their breath and riding out the aftershocks. Then Bam caught sight of the cum-splattered Heartagram, and started to laugh, mind spinning with possibilities. The roof would be too low, but fuck that, he’d just cut a hole in it…
“I’m gonna put this in Don Vito’s living room.” He said, manic grin splitting his face. “Without cleaning it off, of course.”
Ville laughed. “You’re one sick fuck, you know that, Bam?”
Bam just grinned wider. “So, you wanna help?”