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Title: Do It Like A Whore (Just Business) Chapter 9
Author: war_of_ataraxis
Pairing: Ville/Bam
Rating: PG-13 this chapter, NC-17 later
Summary: Ville is a street whore, running low on business for the night, when a cute guy in a nice car offers to pay him for his company. Ville accepts, and goes home with him - how much does this cute stranger have in mind, and how much is Ville willing to give?
Disclaimer: Do not own, don't sue me, I have no money, and god knows the RIAA wants me more for the 13,000 songs on my computer...
Previous chapters and writing archive found at love_sex_angst
I led him to the bed and crawled over to the opposite side, releasing his hand only when necessary to support myself, hand sinking deep into the soft bedding.
I felt his hand fall to my hip for only a brief second before I flipped myself and settled onto the bed with the biggest sigh I'd ever let out in all my memories.
He was right - this bed was amazing. He gave me a small, shy smile and crawled into the bed next to me, scooting his body close to my back as I closed my eyes in immediate relaxation as the feeling of a soft bed enveloped me.
"You like my bed?" he whispered unnecessarily into my ear as he pulled me back against his chest, his arms securely around my waist. I nodded though, my eyes shut, and concentrating on the feeling of his breath blowing soft hot trails across my neck. His fingers moved in small strokes over my lower abdomen and my breathing was irregular, the light tickling stirring strange feelings in me.
Rarely was I ever horny; being used for sex had always made it so meaningless to me. I was never one to initiate, or even enjoy though I had always ‘gotten off', but something in the way that Bam's fingers moved.... And something deep down wanted to thank him, in the only way that I knew how.
He had already helped me so much in this short space of time... sex always made my ‘clients' pleased... maybe...
I turned around to face him, catching him off guard as I pressed my lips to his, allowing my tongue to slip out and swipe across his lips before it was accepted into his mouth and massaged slowly with his. My fingers trailed over his hip bones and settled on the elastic of his boxers. I slipped one finger under them, and moved to kiss his neck as my hand attempted to slip inside to feel him.
I could feel myself hardening inside the thin boxers, and my body suddenly went cold as I felt his hand grasp mine and pulled it out of his boxers as soon as I touched the coarse pubic hair.
"What are you doing, Ville?" he questioned quietly and I moved my head back to look at him.
"Th - thanking you..." I stuttered slightly embarrassed at having to explain myself and attempting to remove my hand from his grasp and push it under the cloth again, but he held my hand more tightly and I winced slightly, looking at him in confusion.
"No... I - why - why would you think that I would want that?" he seemed almost angry, a sudden contrast to the way he had just been treating me, his strong grip on my hand almost painful. Tears shot to my eyes, and I looked at him, blinking furiously and pulling my hand away finally.
"I thought that - I thought maybe you..."
And then, before I could stop him, he was moving away from me, and out of the bed. "I don't want you to think you have to do something like that Ville. I don't want you to do something like this! You don't have to thank me!"
I bit my lip and sat up in the bed, the covers falling to a pool around my hips. "Yes, I do! And this is the only thing I have to offer."
He sighed in exasperation and ran a hand through his hair. "You don't get it. You just don't..." he stepped back and moved in a small circle, before coming to a halt in his original position beside the bed. "I don't want the sex, Ville! I just want you! You fucking being here is enough thanks for me! Why would I want what so many people have had?"
These words stung, and I knew he regretted them immediately; he knew they had hit me wrong, but he didn't cave, and just bit his lip.
"Bam - I - you - "
"Just... I'm going to go sleep in the other room, Ville, because I don't want anything stupid to happen between us... I don't want it to be like everything else... that's not the point."
He leaned forward and cupped my cheek in his hand. "That's not it at all, Ville... I thought you knew that already..."
His thumb wiped away a tear that stole down my cheek and I attempted to open my mouth to protest but he shook his head and left the room, leaving me to sink back into the bed in defeat.
The bed was big and empty, and I was left to think about how suddenly things had changed, and how I was now left alone. Nothing had changed, except the comfort that this bed provided was now cold.
"Damnit... god ... damnit," I cursed myself, balling the blanket between my hands.
Somehow I always managed to screw things up. Somehow I always managed to just... I drew in a shaky choked breath, attempting to ignore the small voice screaming at me to go and follow him, apologize.
But there was another voice. Another voice that told me to leave. Told me to just run. This time he wouldn't be there to stop me.
He was pissed at me, and I'd probably ruined everything, what reason did I have to stay? I'd had one chance and I'd screwed it all up. I slipped from the bed, looking around for my clothes. He'd put them in the connected bathroom, and I moved in there, finding them and feeling them.
They were still soaked. I moved to pull them on again and cringed at the feeling of the wet clothing on my skin. I could still hear the rain pattering outside, and I didn't have a clue how I'd get home, but I'm sure if I could just find someone to pull over... a man...
Something echoed that I was overreacting, but I still slid out, retracing the steps I'd taken earlier, toward the front door. I passed the kitchen and stopped instantly as I caught sight of him slumped onto the kitchen table, head in his hands and a cup of coffee steaming on the table.
I held my breath and stared at him, finally shaking my head, and trying to move again; all too late I realized that the brush of wet denim on denim caught his ears and he jerked his head up.
"Ville -" then his eyes fell to my clothes. "No. You're not leaving again... why would you?"
I trembled, faltered, whatever the word was. "I - I'm..."
He looked so hurt as he stayed seated at the table, slumped in defeat. "Fine... if you want to leave, then go. I can't stop you, and apparently I'm not enough to hold you. Go."
I stood there, trembling and scared at the resignation in his voice, eyes flitting between his unchanging form and the direction of the door, and I was so torn.
Why do I keep fucking running?
"No," the word ripped from my mouth before I could stop it and I moved towards him, my feet moving on their own, the screaming part of my brain frozen. "I can't. No."
And I stepped to him, he stood and pulled me to him, my form accepting his arms graciously, fitting into my waist as if we were made for each other.
If I was a more sentimental person I'd say we were.
My damp clothes wet his skin, but he ignored them, and kissed my cheek.
"Thank you," he whispered into my ear, clutching me tightly, stroking my back over the wet cloth.
I still didn't understand why he wanted me to stay so badly, but I resigned myself, hopefully for the last time, that I wouldn't run anymore.
No more. It's not worth hurting him. Not worth hurting the only person who had ever shown me kindness.
His hand moved from my back and grasped mine and soundlessly he lead me back to his bedroom. I slid myself out of the wet clothes, the boxers remaining slightly damp. I ignored them, but Bam still retrieved a new pair and handed them to me, picking up my clothes and leaving me alone for enough time to slip the new pair, the bigger pair swallowing me, hanging from my hips even more loosely than the previous pair had.
Still, I moved and slid into bed, waiting until he slid into the opposite side and moving closer to him. His hand stroked my face, pushing the hair from my forehead backwards. His lips met mine and he stared directly into my eyes.
"No more fucking running. I'm too old for this shit."
I let out a small laugh and moved to press my body to his, comforted as I fell asleep a while later by the warmth of his skin, his arm around my waist and the comfortable silence that swallowed the room.
No more running.
Somehow, that means more than just leaving.
A/N: Repetitive drama. Hopefully Ville will eventually get it, and just let Bam-Bam love him. I know that a lot of people were expecting sex, but that would have been kind of cliché and strange, as sex at the moment has very little meaning to Ville because of his ‘profession.' Granted, I don't know any street whores, but I can imagine the emotion is gone from it...
They need to *chokes on corniness* ‘make love' not just fuck, ya know? *snickers*
Gah, once again sorry about the bit of time lapse between updates. I worked like 25 hours in the last four days and this is the first day I've had off... I'm worn out. I have Wednesday off, so many then... no promises.
Author: war_of_ataraxis
Pairing: Ville/Bam
Rating: PG-13 this chapter, NC-17 later
Summary: Ville is a street whore, running low on business for the night, when a cute guy in a nice car offers to pay him for his company. Ville accepts, and goes home with him - how much does this cute stranger have in mind, and how much is Ville willing to give?
Disclaimer: Do not own, don't sue me, I have no money, and god knows the RIAA wants me more for the 13,000 songs on my computer...
Previous chapters and writing archive found at love_sex_angst
I led him to the bed and crawled over to the opposite side, releasing his hand only when necessary to support myself, hand sinking deep into the soft bedding.
I felt his hand fall to my hip for only a brief second before I flipped myself and settled onto the bed with the biggest sigh I'd ever let out in all my memories.
He was right - this bed was amazing. He gave me a small, shy smile and crawled into the bed next to me, scooting his body close to my back as I closed my eyes in immediate relaxation as the feeling of a soft bed enveloped me.
"You like my bed?" he whispered unnecessarily into my ear as he pulled me back against his chest, his arms securely around my waist. I nodded though, my eyes shut, and concentrating on the feeling of his breath blowing soft hot trails across my neck. His fingers moved in small strokes over my lower abdomen and my breathing was irregular, the light tickling stirring strange feelings in me.
Rarely was I ever horny; being used for sex had always made it so meaningless to me. I was never one to initiate, or even enjoy though I had always ‘gotten off', but something in the way that Bam's fingers moved.... And something deep down wanted to thank him, in the only way that I knew how.
He had already helped me so much in this short space of time... sex always made my ‘clients' pleased... maybe...
I turned around to face him, catching him off guard as I pressed my lips to his, allowing my tongue to slip out and swipe across his lips before it was accepted into his mouth and massaged slowly with his. My fingers trailed over his hip bones and settled on the elastic of his boxers. I slipped one finger under them, and moved to kiss his neck as my hand attempted to slip inside to feel him.
I could feel myself hardening inside the thin boxers, and my body suddenly went cold as I felt his hand grasp mine and pulled it out of his boxers as soon as I touched the coarse pubic hair.
"What are you doing, Ville?" he questioned quietly and I moved my head back to look at him.
"Th - thanking you..." I stuttered slightly embarrassed at having to explain myself and attempting to remove my hand from his grasp and push it under the cloth again, but he held my hand more tightly and I winced slightly, looking at him in confusion.
"No... I - why - why would you think that I would want that?" he seemed almost angry, a sudden contrast to the way he had just been treating me, his strong grip on my hand almost painful. Tears shot to my eyes, and I looked at him, blinking furiously and pulling my hand away finally.
"I thought that - I thought maybe you..."
And then, before I could stop him, he was moving away from me, and out of the bed. "I don't want you to think you have to do something like that Ville. I don't want you to do something like this! You don't have to thank me!"
I bit my lip and sat up in the bed, the covers falling to a pool around my hips. "Yes, I do! And this is the only thing I have to offer."
He sighed in exasperation and ran a hand through his hair. "You don't get it. You just don't..." he stepped back and moved in a small circle, before coming to a halt in his original position beside the bed. "I don't want the sex, Ville! I just want you! You fucking being here is enough thanks for me! Why would I want what so many people have had?"
These words stung, and I knew he regretted them immediately; he knew they had hit me wrong, but he didn't cave, and just bit his lip.
"Bam - I - you - "
"Just... I'm going to go sleep in the other room, Ville, because I don't want anything stupid to happen between us... I don't want it to be like everything else... that's not the point."
He leaned forward and cupped my cheek in his hand. "That's not it at all, Ville... I thought you knew that already..."
His thumb wiped away a tear that stole down my cheek and I attempted to open my mouth to protest but he shook his head and left the room, leaving me to sink back into the bed in defeat.
The bed was big and empty, and I was left to think about how suddenly things had changed, and how I was now left alone. Nothing had changed, except the comfort that this bed provided was now cold.
"Damnit... god ... damnit," I cursed myself, balling the blanket between my hands.
Somehow I always managed to screw things up. Somehow I always managed to just... I drew in a shaky choked breath, attempting to ignore the small voice screaming at me to go and follow him, apologize.
But there was another voice. Another voice that told me to leave. Told me to just run. This time he wouldn't be there to stop me.
He was pissed at me, and I'd probably ruined everything, what reason did I have to stay? I'd had one chance and I'd screwed it all up. I slipped from the bed, looking around for my clothes. He'd put them in the connected bathroom, and I moved in there, finding them and feeling them.
They were still soaked. I moved to pull them on again and cringed at the feeling of the wet clothing on my skin. I could still hear the rain pattering outside, and I didn't have a clue how I'd get home, but I'm sure if I could just find someone to pull over... a man...
Something echoed that I was overreacting, but I still slid out, retracing the steps I'd taken earlier, toward the front door. I passed the kitchen and stopped instantly as I caught sight of him slumped onto the kitchen table, head in his hands and a cup of coffee steaming on the table.
I held my breath and stared at him, finally shaking my head, and trying to move again; all too late I realized that the brush of wet denim on denim caught his ears and he jerked his head up.
"Ville -" then his eyes fell to my clothes. "No. You're not leaving again... why would you?"
I trembled, faltered, whatever the word was. "I - I'm..."
He looked so hurt as he stayed seated at the table, slumped in defeat. "Fine... if you want to leave, then go. I can't stop you, and apparently I'm not enough to hold you. Go."
I stood there, trembling and scared at the resignation in his voice, eyes flitting between his unchanging form and the direction of the door, and I was so torn.
Why do I keep fucking running?
"No," the word ripped from my mouth before I could stop it and I moved towards him, my feet moving on their own, the screaming part of my brain frozen. "I can't. No."
And I stepped to him, he stood and pulled me to him, my form accepting his arms graciously, fitting into my waist as if we were made for each other.
If I was a more sentimental person I'd say we were.
My damp clothes wet his skin, but he ignored them, and kissed my cheek.
"Thank you," he whispered into my ear, clutching me tightly, stroking my back over the wet cloth.
I still didn't understand why he wanted me to stay so badly, but I resigned myself, hopefully for the last time, that I wouldn't run anymore.
No more. It's not worth hurting him. Not worth hurting the only person who had ever shown me kindness.
His hand moved from my back and grasped mine and soundlessly he lead me back to his bedroom. I slid myself out of the wet clothes, the boxers remaining slightly damp. I ignored them, but Bam still retrieved a new pair and handed them to me, picking up my clothes and leaving me alone for enough time to slip the new pair, the bigger pair swallowing me, hanging from my hips even more loosely than the previous pair had.
Still, I moved and slid into bed, waiting until he slid into the opposite side and moving closer to him. His hand stroked my face, pushing the hair from my forehead backwards. His lips met mine and he stared directly into my eyes.
"No more fucking running. I'm too old for this shit."
I let out a small laugh and moved to press my body to his, comforted as I fell asleep a while later by the warmth of his skin, his arm around my waist and the comfortable silence that swallowed the room.
No more running.
Somehow, that means more than just leaving.
A/N: Repetitive drama. Hopefully Ville will eventually get it, and just let Bam-Bam love him. I know that a lot of people were expecting sex, but that would have been kind of cliché and strange, as sex at the moment has very little meaning to Ville because of his ‘profession.' Granted, I don't know any street whores, but I can imagine the emotion is gone from it...
They need to *chokes on corniness* ‘make love' not just fuck, ya know? *snickers*
Gah, once again sorry about the bit of time lapse between updates. I worked like 25 hours in the last four days and this is the first day I've had off... I'm worn out. I have Wednesday off, so many then... no promises.