persianfire
in
__vam
Fic: Mars Infernal (Interlude and chapter 5) NC-17
Title: Mars Infernal (A Mars Interlude and chapter 5/?)
Author: Persianfire
Rating: NC-17 (not work safe)l
Summary: All roads lead to Bam, even this one. Jared and Shannon bond, Jared helps Ville out.
Pairing: Ville/Jared eventually Vam
Warning: Ville/Other, confusion, angst...nothing too bad!
Disclaimer: HIM, Bam, 30stm and all other people mentioned are not mine, and never will be, this story is a complete work of fiction
Feedback: Is like heartagram cookies--moreish and adored!
Notes: the mars interlude wouldn't leave my head, Jared was demanding his own screen time lol!
Mars Interlude:-
The music is part of our souls, it never leaves us, even when we can’t hear it, when we stay up into the early hours of the night searching for that elusive melody, it’s there, waiting, ready to show me that I chose *it*, over *him*.
And I am reminded of that choice every night we’re on tour. Under the harsh stage light, beneath the beat of the drums and strum of the guitar he is there, quiet, observing, intense beneath his hooded gaze, which I know is directed at me, I always know.
I allow myself to look at him then, just a quick, heated glance over the shoulder, that slowly turns into a guitar riff aimed at him, an excuse to turn fully around and face him. He is riding the music like a surfer rides the waves and it is enough to make me regret that decision I made so long ago.
We were lovers early on in life, holding onto each other when there was no one else for us to turn to. I’d like to say that we were separated at birth, that we didn’t grow up together, but it would be a lie.
From the moment of my birth we lived together, played together, bathed together, cried together, neither of us could say when our feelings changed, only when we acted on them.
A lonely night, both of us feeling abandoned, unsure of where life was leading us. I was fourteen and we were comforting each other, the specifics are lost on me now, but the actions of that night have never left me.
He cried afterwards, and I thought I’d done something wrong, it never occurred to me that what we were doing was wrong, when it felt so right. The years past by in a vortex of passion and guilt and I’m suddenly uncertain how we got here.
My voice doesn’t falter as I turn away from him, grab hold of the microphone and lean towards our audience. My eyes are open, dazzled by the lights, bright, like ice chips, so talented at hiding the truth.
My mind raced over past conversations, settling on one in particular as my mouth sang words unrelated. I want to look at him again, but I don’t allow myself the pleasure, if I do, I might regret the life I have now, and I don’t, won’t-for the most part.
I wanted what he wanted, back then, but I wanted more, truth be told, I wanted it all, but he told me once, that I couldn’t have it *all* and be famous. I didn’t want to be famous, I just wanted to create; music, actions, words, it was all the same. All that came with a price, though.
Now, years later, he was content to be my brother, to stay in the background and watch me in the limelight.
It’s lonely in the limelight, lonely without the one person I want there with me. It’s at times like these that I doubt the decision I made, when he is so close, yet so far away, when fans are screaming and singing words to songs they don’t know the meanings of.
My songs are our songs.
Eventually the set came to an end and I sleepwalked through it all, happy to get to our hotel room, to slip into his room, like I do most nights, to watch late night TV and talk about anything, and everything, apart from that.
I felt different, though, more than music thumped through my veins and I was so sure we should be able to have it all, the music, the fame-us.
I slipped under the sheets naked, feeling his warm body tense against mine.
“Jare-” he warned, hands pushing me away.
“Don’t you ever feel alone, surrounded by so many people, by friends, and the one person I want there, really to be there, isn’t.”
“You haven’t talked like this in years.”
“We haven’t talked about us in years,” I said, pulling him further towards me. “I don’t want to talk anymore, I want to pretend we’re kids again.” It sounded such an innocent statement.
Coming from anyone else it would be.
He slumped against me, giving in maybe, but I pushed the thought away and finally let my lips find his. How long had it been? His hands reached out, sliding up my arms and I groaned into his mouth, I can’t believe it’s been so long.
I waited for one of his hands to pull my thigh up over his, letting him slide further against me, letting him brush against my erection.
I closed my eyes and see music, hear it thud against my eardrums. I reach down in between us, pushing his boxers down his hips until his cock sprang free. It feels just like I remember it, crushed velvet covered steel.
My body ached for him, to feel him inside me like days gone by, before life and people tainted us for each other, back when nothing came between us, not even latex. But even I’m not stupid enough to go without now, and luckily I don’t have to voice my thoughts.
This has never been part of our routine, but it became part of us as if it had always been, part of me resented it, but another part was glad that nothing could halt what we were doing, even for a second, and give him reason to stop.
Don’t stop-ever.
He tastes so good, and I wonder if I taste the same, we share the same shower gel, the same shampoo, the same blood running through our veins.
His cock leaves a sticky trail on the inside of my thigh before he deftly rolled on a condom, his hand purposely moving towards my erection and stroking once he’d finished.
I hissed and looked into his eyes, they gave nothing away, and I thought briefly that lying eyes must run in the family. I rub my lips over his, feeling a layer of perspiration along his top lip, tasting it, letting the salty wetness settle deep into my taste buds.
He pushed his hips forward, pushing my thigh off his, telling me without words to turn around, I move quickly and feel his body press up against my back, his erection resting in the crack of my ass.
I felt his fingers reach down, tease me, circle my hole and slip inside, I shuddered and closed my eyes to the sensation. He had a certain way of moving his fingers that made me wonder how I’d ever given this up, then suddenly I was empty and in mourning, but he pushed his cock up into me, knocking breath from my lungs as he plunged in deep.
He stilled, spreading one hand out just below my navel, littlest finger barely brushing the base of my cock. Then he circled his hips, the smallest of movements, the friction so small it sent me into a frenzy; wanting more.
He pulled out slowly, until he was barely inside me and I was beginning to wonder if he was going to pull away and forget we’d even begun this, instead he plunged back inside and grasped my cock simultaneously.
I screamed silently as sensation after sensation raced up my spine directly to my heart. My brother had learned some new tricks in our years apart, it seemed. He angled his hips higher and I couldn’t drag the air back into my lungs.
It was too much, I don’t think my body could handle so much pleasure all at once. His hand was hot on my cock and his erection filled me to the hilt with each thrust, hitting my prostate over and over.
His chin pressed into my neck, through my long hair as his movements became more urgent. I could hear small gasps as he started to lose control and was glad it was affecting him as much as me.
I tried to hold it off, wanting to prolong this moment for as long as possible, but I couldn’t, this was-fuck this was *Shannon* and he was home. I came in long spurts, semen covering his hand and the sweaty sheets beneath us.
One last thrust and he came too, his teeth gripping onto my shoulder as he pushed as far inside me as he could get. We lay like that, then, like we used to, just holding each other, just brothers.
I turned in his arms, and faced him, frowning at his serious expression. He brushed a strand of hair from my face and cupped my cheek, the action brought tears to my eyes.
He was going to say something I really didn’t want to hear.
“We can’t keep doing this,” he said and I tightened my grip on him, threw one leg over his, unable to let him leave me.
“Why not?” I ask even though I already know his answer.
“We have too much to lose now-the band, your career, there are too many eyes on us, we can’t disappear into the background, we can’t pretend to be something we’re not.” We can’t pretend not to be brothers, because everyone knows. It went unsaid, but understood.
Shannon had his own views about us, and I was only now realising it. “We had a chance once, to disappear into the woodwork, to drift, to get undemanding jobs where no one cares who you are, but that wasn’t enough, I knew it would never be enough.” He looked me in the eye, and I realised how alike we can look. “I can never go anywhere and introduce you to someone as my lover, and not my brother.”
And that was one thing he wanted to do, but it could never happen, not now-maybe once, when he asked me to disappear with him, to act to the world in a way I’ve never acted before, not then or now.
“So we’ll go back to how we were,” I sounded doubtful, even to my own ears.
“Friends-brothers.”
Not lovers.
***
HIM and their American skater managed to find their way back to the hotel in the small hours of the morning, when the sun started to slowly push the darkness away. 30 Seconds to Mars had left hours earlier, unable to keep up with the Finnish, who were notorious for the alcoholic consumption.
Ville and Bam carried on their drinking binge in the hotel room, beer slowly soaking into the sheets, both of them too inebriated to care, both slurring words and falling into different states of unconsciousness.
The singer lay face down on his bed, Bam next to him, bottles piled between them.
Ville attempted to open another one, but he was lying on his hands, and couldn’t seem to work out how to move them.
“An’, he fell down, broke his-eyebrow or some shit, yeah.”
“What ya’ talking about, Bammie?” Ville turned his head enough to look at him, his vision was blurred, but he could picture the skater in his mind, could smell his unique scent above the stench of cigarette smoke.
He didn’t smell of candy, probably wouldn’t taste of it either. Ville didn’t know what he would taste of, tried not to think of it, but the alcohol had lowered some of the tightly built walls in his mind and they kept trickling out.
“Don’t-know. Mind keeps buzzin’ can’t sleep. More beer needed.”
“Do you ever feel like a faded city light?” Ville asked in a moment of drunken sobriety.
“What the fuck, you on-man?”
Ville frowned, wishing Bam would understand him, could understand him better than a stranger. In so many ways the skater knew who he was, but in others he was clueless, he didn’t understand, didn’t think to understand.
“Nothin’ g’to sleep, Bam.”
Ville shut his eyes and felt the room spin, felt the words tip and spill, he groaned and swallowed, hoping he wouldn’t throw up. It took him some time to figure out how to make his numb arms move and he stumbled into the bathroom, turning on the tap and cupping his hands under the water, lapping at it greedily.
His toothbrush caught his eye and he suddenly flashed back to Jared and felt himself grow hard. Bam was still passed out as Ville stumbled back into the bedroom. He was lying on the same bed Ville and Jared had fucked on, was lying on the same sheets because he had forgotten to take the ‘do not disturb’ sign off the door.
Ville slipped out of the room without waking his friend, padding bare foot the few doors down to Jared’s room. He knocked softly, then harder when no one replied. No one answered so he slid down the wall, sitting on the floor, prepared to wait, wait for what he wasn’t quite sure, but he was waiting. It seemed so important that he did.
He was snoozing slightly when Jared came out of the next door along. His hair was a mess, boxers riding low on his hips. Ville looked at him in appreciation.
“What you doing there, Vil?”
“Waiting for you.” Jared held out a hand and helped Ville to his feet.
Jared opened the door to his room and Ville followed, collapsing onto his bed.
“What you doing here?”
“Bam-don’t know about city lights.” His accent became heavy and Jared had trouble understanding him.
“Most people don’t. Shannon doesn’t.” Jared smoothed his hand down Ville’s clothed body, hand cupping the erection he could feel underneath the denim.
“He’s your brother, though.” Ville groaned and his eyes fluttered closed.
“Yeah-brother. Maybe you should talk to Bam. Tell him about the lights, tell him how you feel.” He flicked open the button and pulled the zipper down.
“It’s not that simple.”
“It’s him you see when you close your eyes isn’t it? Words about him that make you unable to sleep at night. I understand, I do.”
“Wouldn’t do any good. He’s straighter than-a straight guy, who’s fucking-straight.” Jared’s fingers grasped him gently, pulling his cock out of the confines of his boxers.
“Are you insane? That guy is fucking obsessed with you. And he hates me. I threaten him. He probably wants to be the one touching you, fucking you. He might not know it, but he wants it alright.”
“Stop talking about him, and kiss me.” Ville wanted to forget about the man sleeping in his room, he wanted to forget about piggy back rides, bare feet, smurf dances, beer and anything that related to Bam Margera.
Jared leaned over him, his mouth tasted faintly different from the last time, Ville couldn’t work out why, and didn’t want to try, he just lost himself in the man with the blue eyes, wishing they were the blue eyes of someone else.
“I could so fall in love with you,” Ville slurred against Jared’s mouth.
Jared pulled away and shook his head. “No you can’t, like I can’t fall in love with you either. There’s someone else, it’s always about someone else.”
“Wish I could fall for you, it would be a lot simpler.”
Jared smiled, but it was a smile that made Ville’s heart ache. “It really would be.”
Author: Persianfire
Rating: NC-17 (not work safe)l
Summary: All roads lead to Bam, even this one. Jared and Shannon bond, Jared helps Ville out.
Pairing: Ville/Jared eventually Vam
Warning: Ville/Other, confusion, angst...nothing too bad!
Disclaimer: HIM, Bam, 30stm and all other people mentioned are not mine, and never will be, this story is a complete work of fiction
Feedback: Is like heartagram cookies--moreish and adored!
Notes: the mars interlude wouldn't leave my head, Jared was demanding his own screen time lol!
Mars Interlude:-
The music is part of our souls, it never leaves us, even when we can’t hear it, when we stay up into the early hours of the night searching for that elusive melody, it’s there, waiting, ready to show me that I chose *it*, over *him*.
And I am reminded of that choice every night we’re on tour. Under the harsh stage light, beneath the beat of the drums and strum of the guitar he is there, quiet, observing, intense beneath his hooded gaze, which I know is directed at me, I always know.
I allow myself to look at him then, just a quick, heated glance over the shoulder, that slowly turns into a guitar riff aimed at him, an excuse to turn fully around and face him. He is riding the music like a surfer rides the waves and it is enough to make me regret that decision I made so long ago.
We were lovers early on in life, holding onto each other when there was no one else for us to turn to. I’d like to say that we were separated at birth, that we didn’t grow up together, but it would be a lie.
From the moment of my birth we lived together, played together, bathed together, cried together, neither of us could say when our feelings changed, only when we acted on them.
A lonely night, both of us feeling abandoned, unsure of where life was leading us. I was fourteen and we were comforting each other, the specifics are lost on me now, but the actions of that night have never left me.
He cried afterwards, and I thought I’d done something wrong, it never occurred to me that what we were doing was wrong, when it felt so right. The years past by in a vortex of passion and guilt and I’m suddenly uncertain how we got here.
My voice doesn’t falter as I turn away from him, grab hold of the microphone and lean towards our audience. My eyes are open, dazzled by the lights, bright, like ice chips, so talented at hiding the truth.
My mind raced over past conversations, settling on one in particular as my mouth sang words unrelated. I want to look at him again, but I don’t allow myself the pleasure, if I do, I might regret the life I have now, and I don’t, won’t-for the most part.
I wanted what he wanted, back then, but I wanted more, truth be told, I wanted it all, but he told me once, that I couldn’t have it *all* and be famous. I didn’t want to be famous, I just wanted to create; music, actions, words, it was all the same. All that came with a price, though.
Now, years later, he was content to be my brother, to stay in the background and watch me in the limelight.
It’s lonely in the limelight, lonely without the one person I want there with me. It’s at times like these that I doubt the decision I made, when he is so close, yet so far away, when fans are screaming and singing words to songs they don’t know the meanings of.
My songs are our songs.
Eventually the set came to an end and I sleepwalked through it all, happy to get to our hotel room, to slip into his room, like I do most nights, to watch late night TV and talk about anything, and everything, apart from that.
I felt different, though, more than music thumped through my veins and I was so sure we should be able to have it all, the music, the fame-us.
I slipped under the sheets naked, feeling his warm body tense against mine.
“Jare-” he warned, hands pushing me away.
“Don’t you ever feel alone, surrounded by so many people, by friends, and the one person I want there, really to be there, isn’t.”
“You haven’t talked like this in years.”
“We haven’t talked about us in years,” I said, pulling him further towards me. “I don’t want to talk anymore, I want to pretend we’re kids again.” It sounded such an innocent statement.
Coming from anyone else it would be.
He slumped against me, giving in maybe, but I pushed the thought away and finally let my lips find his. How long had it been? His hands reached out, sliding up my arms and I groaned into his mouth, I can’t believe it’s been so long.
I waited for one of his hands to pull my thigh up over his, letting him slide further against me, letting him brush against my erection.
I closed my eyes and see music, hear it thud against my eardrums. I reach down in between us, pushing his boxers down his hips until his cock sprang free. It feels just like I remember it, crushed velvet covered steel.
My body ached for him, to feel him inside me like days gone by, before life and people tainted us for each other, back when nothing came between us, not even latex. But even I’m not stupid enough to go without now, and luckily I don’t have to voice my thoughts.
This has never been part of our routine, but it became part of us as if it had always been, part of me resented it, but another part was glad that nothing could halt what we were doing, even for a second, and give him reason to stop.
Don’t stop-ever.
He tastes so good, and I wonder if I taste the same, we share the same shower gel, the same shampoo, the same blood running through our veins.
His cock leaves a sticky trail on the inside of my thigh before he deftly rolled on a condom, his hand purposely moving towards my erection and stroking once he’d finished.
I hissed and looked into his eyes, they gave nothing away, and I thought briefly that lying eyes must run in the family. I rub my lips over his, feeling a layer of perspiration along his top lip, tasting it, letting the salty wetness settle deep into my taste buds.
He pushed his hips forward, pushing my thigh off his, telling me without words to turn around, I move quickly and feel his body press up against my back, his erection resting in the crack of my ass.
I felt his fingers reach down, tease me, circle my hole and slip inside, I shuddered and closed my eyes to the sensation. He had a certain way of moving his fingers that made me wonder how I’d ever given this up, then suddenly I was empty and in mourning, but he pushed his cock up into me, knocking breath from my lungs as he plunged in deep.
He stilled, spreading one hand out just below my navel, littlest finger barely brushing the base of my cock. Then he circled his hips, the smallest of movements, the friction so small it sent me into a frenzy; wanting more.
He pulled out slowly, until he was barely inside me and I was beginning to wonder if he was going to pull away and forget we’d even begun this, instead he plunged back inside and grasped my cock simultaneously.
I screamed silently as sensation after sensation raced up my spine directly to my heart. My brother had learned some new tricks in our years apart, it seemed. He angled his hips higher and I couldn’t drag the air back into my lungs.
It was too much, I don’t think my body could handle so much pleasure all at once. His hand was hot on my cock and his erection filled me to the hilt with each thrust, hitting my prostate over and over.
His chin pressed into my neck, through my long hair as his movements became more urgent. I could hear small gasps as he started to lose control and was glad it was affecting him as much as me.
I tried to hold it off, wanting to prolong this moment for as long as possible, but I couldn’t, this was-fuck this was *Shannon* and he was home. I came in long spurts, semen covering his hand and the sweaty sheets beneath us.
One last thrust and he came too, his teeth gripping onto my shoulder as he pushed as far inside me as he could get. We lay like that, then, like we used to, just holding each other, just brothers.
I turned in his arms, and faced him, frowning at his serious expression. He brushed a strand of hair from my face and cupped my cheek, the action brought tears to my eyes.
He was going to say something I really didn’t want to hear.
“We can’t keep doing this,” he said and I tightened my grip on him, threw one leg over his, unable to let him leave me.
“Why not?” I ask even though I already know his answer.
“We have too much to lose now-the band, your career, there are too many eyes on us, we can’t disappear into the background, we can’t pretend to be something we’re not.” We can’t pretend not to be brothers, because everyone knows. It went unsaid, but understood.
Shannon had his own views about us, and I was only now realising it. “We had a chance once, to disappear into the woodwork, to drift, to get undemanding jobs where no one cares who you are, but that wasn’t enough, I knew it would never be enough.” He looked me in the eye, and I realised how alike we can look. “I can never go anywhere and introduce you to someone as my lover, and not my brother.”
And that was one thing he wanted to do, but it could never happen, not now-maybe once, when he asked me to disappear with him, to act to the world in a way I’ve never acted before, not then or now.
“So we’ll go back to how we were,” I sounded doubtful, even to my own ears.
“Friends-brothers.”
Not lovers.
***
HIM and their American skater managed to find their way back to the hotel in the small hours of the morning, when the sun started to slowly push the darkness away. 30 Seconds to Mars had left hours earlier, unable to keep up with the Finnish, who were notorious for the alcoholic consumption.
Ville and Bam carried on their drinking binge in the hotel room, beer slowly soaking into the sheets, both of them too inebriated to care, both slurring words and falling into different states of unconsciousness.
The singer lay face down on his bed, Bam next to him, bottles piled between them.
Ville attempted to open another one, but he was lying on his hands, and couldn’t seem to work out how to move them.
“An’, he fell down, broke his-eyebrow or some shit, yeah.”
“What ya’ talking about, Bammie?” Ville turned his head enough to look at him, his vision was blurred, but he could picture the skater in his mind, could smell his unique scent above the stench of cigarette smoke.
He didn’t smell of candy, probably wouldn’t taste of it either. Ville didn’t know what he would taste of, tried not to think of it, but the alcohol had lowered some of the tightly built walls in his mind and they kept trickling out.
“Don’t-know. Mind keeps buzzin’ can’t sleep. More beer needed.”
“Do you ever feel like a faded city light?” Ville asked in a moment of drunken sobriety.
“What the fuck, you on-man?”
Ville frowned, wishing Bam would understand him, could understand him better than a stranger. In so many ways the skater knew who he was, but in others he was clueless, he didn’t understand, didn’t think to understand.
“Nothin’ g’to sleep, Bam.”
Ville shut his eyes and felt the room spin, felt the words tip and spill, he groaned and swallowed, hoping he wouldn’t throw up. It took him some time to figure out how to make his numb arms move and he stumbled into the bathroom, turning on the tap and cupping his hands under the water, lapping at it greedily.
His toothbrush caught his eye and he suddenly flashed back to Jared and felt himself grow hard. Bam was still passed out as Ville stumbled back into the bedroom. He was lying on the same bed Ville and Jared had fucked on, was lying on the same sheets because he had forgotten to take the ‘do not disturb’ sign off the door.
Ville slipped out of the room without waking his friend, padding bare foot the few doors down to Jared’s room. He knocked softly, then harder when no one replied. No one answered so he slid down the wall, sitting on the floor, prepared to wait, wait for what he wasn’t quite sure, but he was waiting. It seemed so important that he did.
He was snoozing slightly when Jared came out of the next door along. His hair was a mess, boxers riding low on his hips. Ville looked at him in appreciation.
“What you doing there, Vil?”
“Waiting for you.” Jared held out a hand and helped Ville to his feet.
Jared opened the door to his room and Ville followed, collapsing onto his bed.
“What you doing here?”
“Bam-don’t know about city lights.” His accent became heavy and Jared had trouble understanding him.
“Most people don’t. Shannon doesn’t.” Jared smoothed his hand down Ville’s clothed body, hand cupping the erection he could feel underneath the denim.
“He’s your brother, though.” Ville groaned and his eyes fluttered closed.
“Yeah-brother. Maybe you should talk to Bam. Tell him about the lights, tell him how you feel.” He flicked open the button and pulled the zipper down.
“It’s not that simple.”
“It’s him you see when you close your eyes isn’t it? Words about him that make you unable to sleep at night. I understand, I do.”
“Wouldn’t do any good. He’s straighter than-a straight guy, who’s fucking-straight.” Jared’s fingers grasped him gently, pulling his cock out of the confines of his boxers.
“Are you insane? That guy is fucking obsessed with you. And he hates me. I threaten him. He probably wants to be the one touching you, fucking you. He might not know it, but he wants it alright.”
“Stop talking about him, and kiss me.” Ville wanted to forget about the man sleeping in his room, he wanted to forget about piggy back rides, bare feet, smurf dances, beer and anything that related to Bam Margera.
Jared leaned over him, his mouth tasted faintly different from the last time, Ville couldn’t work out why, and didn’t want to try, he just lost himself in the man with the blue eyes, wishing they were the blue eyes of someone else.
“I could so fall in love with you,” Ville slurred against Jared’s mouth.
Jared pulled away and shook his head. “No you can’t, like I can’t fall in love with you either. There’s someone else, it’s always about someone else.”
“Wish I could fall for you, it would be a lot simpler.”
Jared smiled, but it was a smile that made Ville’s heart ache. “It really would be.”