"Crawling Backwards" Chapter Eleven
Title: Crawling Backwards
Author: xxShilaleighxx
Fandom: Music/VAM
Summery: Ville is in love with Bam, but Bam only loves Ville when he’s drunk. By morning it’s forgotten and Bam goes on to believe that they’re still just friends. Ville puts up with it for his love, but it’s slowly killing him inside.
Disclaimer: I own nothing.
Pairing: VAM…eventually.
Rating: NC-17 in some parts…but generally it’s R
Previous Chapters Behind the Cut
Prologue
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
"Ville, we need to talk."
I spun around sharply, nearly bumping into the man behind me. He stood by the door, his hands shoved deep in his pockets and his eyes scanning mine for emotion. I tried not to show any.
“What do you want Bam?” I spat, mimicking his stance.
He cleared his throat. The space between us was too small; I could feel the tension as if it were tangible. “That song…you directed it at me, didn’t you?”
A smirk formed on my lips and I said, “Of course I did.”
He seemed at a loss for words for a moment, obviously not expecting me to tell the truth, his mouth hanging open slightly as he struggled to form the correct sentence. “Why did you do it?”
“Why did I do it?” I repeated; a slight bite to my words. “Why did I do it? You fucking blew me off, you told me you’d call and you never did, you told me you’d come to my shows and you never did. What were you expecting, Bam? Did you think I’d run to your arms and shower you with kisses? Get your head out of the fucking clouds!”
He took a step backwards, an apologetic look crossing his face. “I’m here, aren’t I? I said I’d try to make it to your shows, this was the only one I could-”
I cut him off before he could continue. “Bullshit. You have all the money in the fucking world-a free schedule. You could’ve easily made it to every fucking one of my shows! You chose not to. You chose to keep this fucked up little game running. I don’t understand you, Bam.”
“Don’t be upset with me,” he whispered after a pause.
“It’s difficult not to feel a little disappointed. You fucking tore my heart out and stomped on it; you played in the blood and laughed. It hurt, Bam. Do you know how fucking bad it hurt? Well, you’ll be relieved to know that whatever we had is over.”
He went back to staring, his mouth once again slightly ajar. “It’s…over?” He shook his head as if he didn’t believe it. “No, it’s not. How can it be when…when it didn’t even start? What exactly did we have, Ville? Because I’m having a pretty hard time figuring that one out.”
“You really want to know?” I asked, the mocking undertone to my words causing him to raise an eyebrow. “I loved you, Bam. I loved you with everything I had, and just when I thought you understood you go and do…this! You run away-like you do with all of your fucking problems. You’re a coward, nothing more. I can’t believe I trusted you.”
“You don’t know how hard it is-”
“Save it, I’ve heard this speech before. Remember? Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have some stuff to take care of inside.”
I moved to walk past him, but he stopped me with his hand wrapped around my upper arm. I tensed and looked back at him, our eyes locking for the briefest of moments before he pulled me from the door to face him. Before I could speak his lips were on mine, bruising and lustful. I felt my knees growing weak as I reached up a hand to push him away, but it fell limply at my side as he ran a needy hand through my hair.
He pulled away for air, and I took the opportunity to step back.
“Don’t ever do that again,” I panted, wiping fruitlessly at my lips. He stared back at me, slightly hunched over and trying to catch his breath.
“Why? You want this just as much as I do.”
“I did,” I answered. “Once. But not anymore.”
“Oh come on!” Bam shouted, throwing his hands up in an exaggerated display of frustration. “Don’t fucking lie to me, Ville! I know you’re pissed, but you can’t deny that this feels right!”
“If it feels so damn right, then how come you continue to blow me off? How come you don’t return my phone calls, how come you promise me things that you’ll never be able to give? I know how you play. You’re just reveling in the thrill of getting to fuck your favorite rock star! Is that all I am to you? An easy fuck? Is that all I’m fucking good for, Bam?”
I knew how he felt. My words were like a slap to his face. He was stunned. Taking a step toward me, but stopping short, he said, hushed, “You’re more than that. You’re far too good to be treated they way I’ve treated you.”
“Then why do you do it?”
“I-I don’t know…” he cut himself off, his gaze wandering to his shoes. “I just…”
“No, don’t even fucking say it. Constantly I lay on my back taking shit from you,” I nearly shouted. “Why do I have to put up with it?” When he didn’t respond I supplied an answer of my own. “I don’t.”
“You’re right,” he agreed. “You don’t have to put up with it. You shouldn’t. And I would understand if you never wanted to see me again, but just hear me out.” He paused and took a deep breath, and I knew the speech was coming. “Look at me. If it’s not obvious how I feel about you, then…I don’t know what else to do. I’m covered in your tattoos, my house is practically dedicated to you, and your music is always playing when I’m around. I fucking idolize you. More than just some kid with a hard-on for his favorite celebrity. I fucking love you.”
“How can I be so sure of that? You always change yourself to impress whoever happens to be standing next to you!” I snapped. “How can I be so sure this is for real?”
“I can prove it.” His lips found my neck, hungry but careful. Again I moved to push him away, but he spoke before I could. “This…this is real.” His lips moved up to my jaw-line, tracing the bone there. “This is real.” It was like checking of names on a list, as his lips moved across and connected with mine, I felt myself giving in to his desperate need. “This is real. We’re real.”
My head automatically dipped down to reach his, his tongue slipping in my mouth as we fought for domination. He moaned, pushed, and sighed, his arms wrapping around my neck and pulling me closer. I wanted to yell, I wanted to scream, I wanted to push him off and tell him to go jump in front of a speeding train; but I just stood there, enraptured with his actions and not wanting pull away.
He backed me up into the wall, his hands snaking up my shirt and running over my ribs. For the first time that night I realized that he didn’t taste of whiskey. I smiled into his mouth, my arms gripping his back and pulling him close. He pulled away suddenly, a cocky smile playing at his lips.
“Why are you doing this?” I whispered, my breath hitching in my throat.
“Because I need you,” he answered simply, panting and straightening his rumpled shirt. “But we can’t do this here.”
“We can’t do this at all…” I tried to argue, but it was a lost cause.
“You know where I live; stop by when you’re done here.” It was a simple command, but I had a hard time piecing the words together.
“I don’t plan to,” he looked at me and smiled, knowing more than I did that what I said was a lie. I gave him an angry look.
“I’ll see you around.”
And with that he was gone. The door swung shut behind him and the noises of the streets flooded my system. I glanced around, as if just noticing my surroundings. What just happened? Pulling out a cigarette, I lit it and made my way inside.
~*~
The boys were lying around the green room when I returned, spread out amongst two couches with an overflowing table between them covered in everything from beer bottles to packs of cigarettes. Snatching a half-empty bottle of Heineken, I wedged myself between Mige and Linde.
“Where’d you go?” Gas asked me as I sat down, knocking back his own beer.
“Just for a cigarette.”
He didn’t skip a beat when he said, “You could’ve done that in here.”
My eyes darted to the door expecting to see Bam standing there, a six pack of beer crooked under his arm and a smile on his face. But he wasn’t there, and I was thankful for that. “I needed some fresh air.”
Gas nodded and went on to talk about the show, delving into the ritualistic conversation that always followed a concert. As he got to the set list, Linde turned to me and asked, “What was with the sudden change of song earlier?”
I didn’t know what to tell him. I couldn’t just say ‘I had to scream my emotions at a man that’s been nothing but a good friend to you but has been secretly breaking my heart.’ I had to think of something.
“It just seemed like the right thing to do,” I shrugged. I could tell by the look in his eyes that he didn’t believe me, but he didn’t push the topic any further.
The night pushed on as expected, and within what felt like only moments we were headed back out to the bus, ready to catch a hotel room and some sleep. We were scheduled to spend two nights in Philly and normally it would be a welcomed vacation, but I didn’t like being so close to Bam. There were too many opportunities for something to go wrong.
We were checked in at a Regency Hyatt a few blocks from the club, the entire fifth floor quarantined for our eyes only. I liked the seclusion it provided and it almost felt like home, but not quite. As we shuffled to our designated suits I stopped a few doors before my own and pulled Mige aside.
“What is it, love?” he asked with a concerned pitch, waitng before he was sure the others couldn’t hear.
“I need to take care of a few things tonight, so I won’t be in until later,” I tried to make it sound casual, but the words came out forced and brittle. “Make sure the guys don’t know about this.”
He only smiled and nodded his head, patting me on the back lightly before walking toward his own room. I waited in the hallway until everyone was settled before heading back toward the elevators.
Waiting for the lift when you’re in a hurry is like sitting in traffic. It never moves when you want it to, and when it finally gets to you a person steals your spot. I nearly growled as the elevator slinked its way to my floor, a soft bell dinging as it got closer and closer. One floor up it stopped.
“Bloody fucking hell, hurry your ass up,” I spat, pushing the button with a newfound fervor. When it finally stopped at my floor, thankfully empty, I jumped inside and continued to slam the little button with the star on it, my foot tapping impatiently on the floor.
There was a cab waiting for me outside-I had called the company on an earlier trip to the “bathroom”-and I was very relieved to know that I didn’t have to do anymore waiting. Climbing in the cab, I handed the driver two hundred US dollars and told him where to go. He nodded, stumbling a bit at the excessive pay, before incessantly thanking me and driving off.
I watched as the city lights quickly faded, growing into one massive glowing ball in the distance as we made our way out into the suburbs. We took the highway, but I could still make out the houses lining the subdivisions flanking either side of the road. Before long even those were forgotten as we reached the country.
There was a time when I thought that America had no farm land, no forests and no wild life to speak of at all. I naively assumed that they were fully industrialized and had destroyed such gifts long ago. When I first came to West Chester, I was shocked by the small town feel of the settlement. There were farms surrounding the entire city as far as the ones in Finland, some even farther. It completely changed my perspective on things, and each time I drive this way I can’t help but think about that first visit.
The cab turned down a private road, one that I had to point out and that was hidden amongst a clutter of thick trees. It was a dirt road, long and winding. It snaked up to the castle where king Bam dotingly resided.
As the cab pulled up in front of the hand painted unicorn door, I found myself unwilling to get out. What the hell was I thinking coming here? I know he told me to come, but still…what was I doing? This was ridiculous. The driver looked back at me expectantly, probably wondering what the hell I was doing. I was sure the only reason he didn’t usher me out of the cab was the substantial tip he had already received.
“Yo, sir, I don’t mean to be a pain but…” his heavy Philly accent pulled me from my thoughts. I looked at him to see if he was going to finish the sentence, but he let it dangle in the air.
“Sorry about that,” he only nodded as I pulled the handle and climbed out, the cool wind blowing my hair into my face. He pulled away before I reached the door, but I wasn’t sure if I should be grateful for that or not. It eliminated my chances for escape.
The door was massive, taller than any I had seen on a house before. Cherry red doors with wrought iron bars across them towered into the sky, a perfect heartagram cast in each one. My fingers gingerly traced the artwork, running along the entire base before stopping at the tip of one of the heartagrams. Knocking gently on the door, I waited for it to open.
“COMING!” someone shouted from within, and I immediately recognized the voice as Bam’s. There was shuffling on the other side and the sound of something falling over before the doors finally opened.
“Hey,” I said simply, my hand sticking up in a stiff wave. He smiled and marshaled me inside, taking my jacket and closing the door.
~*~
And there you have it, semi-cliff hanger ending. Mwahahahahahahahahahaha. Sorry.
Comments = Steamy Vam Make-Up Sex
Author: xxShilaleighxx
Fandom: Music/VAM
Summery: Ville is in love with Bam, but Bam only loves Ville when he’s drunk. By morning it’s forgotten and Bam goes on to believe that they’re still just friends. Ville puts up with it for his love, but it’s slowly killing him inside.
Disclaimer: I own nothing.
Pairing: VAM…eventually.
Rating: NC-17 in some parts…but generally it’s R
Previous Chapters Behind the Cut
Prologue
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
"Ville, we need to talk."
I spun around sharply, nearly bumping into the man behind me. He stood by the door, his hands shoved deep in his pockets and his eyes scanning mine for emotion. I tried not to show any.
“What do you want Bam?” I spat, mimicking his stance.
He cleared his throat. The space between us was too small; I could feel the tension as if it were tangible. “That song…you directed it at me, didn’t you?”
A smirk formed on my lips and I said, “Of course I did.”
He seemed at a loss for words for a moment, obviously not expecting me to tell the truth, his mouth hanging open slightly as he struggled to form the correct sentence. “Why did you do it?”
“Why did I do it?” I repeated; a slight bite to my words. “Why did I do it? You fucking blew me off, you told me you’d call and you never did, you told me you’d come to my shows and you never did. What were you expecting, Bam? Did you think I’d run to your arms and shower you with kisses? Get your head out of the fucking clouds!”
He took a step backwards, an apologetic look crossing his face. “I’m here, aren’t I? I said I’d try to make it to your shows, this was the only one I could-”
I cut him off before he could continue. “Bullshit. You have all the money in the fucking world-a free schedule. You could’ve easily made it to every fucking one of my shows! You chose not to. You chose to keep this fucked up little game running. I don’t understand you, Bam.”
“Don’t be upset with me,” he whispered after a pause.
“It’s difficult not to feel a little disappointed. You fucking tore my heart out and stomped on it; you played in the blood and laughed. It hurt, Bam. Do you know how fucking bad it hurt? Well, you’ll be relieved to know that whatever we had is over.”
He went back to staring, his mouth once again slightly ajar. “It’s…over?” He shook his head as if he didn’t believe it. “No, it’s not. How can it be when…when it didn’t even start? What exactly did we have, Ville? Because I’m having a pretty hard time figuring that one out.”
“You really want to know?” I asked, the mocking undertone to my words causing him to raise an eyebrow. “I loved you, Bam. I loved you with everything I had, and just when I thought you understood you go and do…this! You run away-like you do with all of your fucking problems. You’re a coward, nothing more. I can’t believe I trusted you.”
“You don’t know how hard it is-”
“Save it, I’ve heard this speech before. Remember? Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have some stuff to take care of inside.”
I moved to walk past him, but he stopped me with his hand wrapped around my upper arm. I tensed and looked back at him, our eyes locking for the briefest of moments before he pulled me from the door to face him. Before I could speak his lips were on mine, bruising and lustful. I felt my knees growing weak as I reached up a hand to push him away, but it fell limply at my side as he ran a needy hand through my hair.
He pulled away for air, and I took the opportunity to step back.
“Don’t ever do that again,” I panted, wiping fruitlessly at my lips. He stared back at me, slightly hunched over and trying to catch his breath.
“Why? You want this just as much as I do.”
“I did,” I answered. “Once. But not anymore.”
“Oh come on!” Bam shouted, throwing his hands up in an exaggerated display of frustration. “Don’t fucking lie to me, Ville! I know you’re pissed, but you can’t deny that this feels right!”
“If it feels so damn right, then how come you continue to blow me off? How come you don’t return my phone calls, how come you promise me things that you’ll never be able to give? I know how you play. You’re just reveling in the thrill of getting to fuck your favorite rock star! Is that all I am to you? An easy fuck? Is that all I’m fucking good for, Bam?”
I knew how he felt. My words were like a slap to his face. He was stunned. Taking a step toward me, but stopping short, he said, hushed, “You’re more than that. You’re far too good to be treated they way I’ve treated you.”
“Then why do you do it?”
“I-I don’t know…” he cut himself off, his gaze wandering to his shoes. “I just…”
“No, don’t even fucking say it. Constantly I lay on my back taking shit from you,” I nearly shouted. “Why do I have to put up with it?” When he didn’t respond I supplied an answer of my own. “I don’t.”
“You’re right,” he agreed. “You don’t have to put up with it. You shouldn’t. And I would understand if you never wanted to see me again, but just hear me out.” He paused and took a deep breath, and I knew the speech was coming. “Look at me. If it’s not obvious how I feel about you, then…I don’t know what else to do. I’m covered in your tattoos, my house is practically dedicated to you, and your music is always playing when I’m around. I fucking idolize you. More than just some kid with a hard-on for his favorite celebrity. I fucking love you.”
“How can I be so sure of that? You always change yourself to impress whoever happens to be standing next to you!” I snapped. “How can I be so sure this is for real?”
“I can prove it.” His lips found my neck, hungry but careful. Again I moved to push him away, but he spoke before I could. “This…this is real.” His lips moved up to my jaw-line, tracing the bone there. “This is real.” It was like checking of names on a list, as his lips moved across and connected with mine, I felt myself giving in to his desperate need. “This is real. We’re real.”
My head automatically dipped down to reach his, his tongue slipping in my mouth as we fought for domination. He moaned, pushed, and sighed, his arms wrapping around my neck and pulling me closer. I wanted to yell, I wanted to scream, I wanted to push him off and tell him to go jump in front of a speeding train; but I just stood there, enraptured with his actions and not wanting pull away.
He backed me up into the wall, his hands snaking up my shirt and running over my ribs. For the first time that night I realized that he didn’t taste of whiskey. I smiled into his mouth, my arms gripping his back and pulling him close. He pulled away suddenly, a cocky smile playing at his lips.
“Why are you doing this?” I whispered, my breath hitching in my throat.
“Because I need you,” he answered simply, panting and straightening his rumpled shirt. “But we can’t do this here.”
“We can’t do this at all…” I tried to argue, but it was a lost cause.
“You know where I live; stop by when you’re done here.” It was a simple command, but I had a hard time piecing the words together.
“I don’t plan to,” he looked at me and smiled, knowing more than I did that what I said was a lie. I gave him an angry look.
“I’ll see you around.”
And with that he was gone. The door swung shut behind him and the noises of the streets flooded my system. I glanced around, as if just noticing my surroundings. What just happened? Pulling out a cigarette, I lit it and made my way inside.
~*~
The boys were lying around the green room when I returned, spread out amongst two couches with an overflowing table between them covered in everything from beer bottles to packs of cigarettes. Snatching a half-empty bottle of Heineken, I wedged myself between Mige and Linde.
“Where’d you go?” Gas asked me as I sat down, knocking back his own beer.
“Just for a cigarette.”
He didn’t skip a beat when he said, “You could’ve done that in here.”
My eyes darted to the door expecting to see Bam standing there, a six pack of beer crooked under his arm and a smile on his face. But he wasn’t there, and I was thankful for that. “I needed some fresh air.”
Gas nodded and went on to talk about the show, delving into the ritualistic conversation that always followed a concert. As he got to the set list, Linde turned to me and asked, “What was with the sudden change of song earlier?”
I didn’t know what to tell him. I couldn’t just say ‘I had to scream my emotions at a man that’s been nothing but a good friend to you but has been secretly breaking my heart.’ I had to think of something.
“It just seemed like the right thing to do,” I shrugged. I could tell by the look in his eyes that he didn’t believe me, but he didn’t push the topic any further.
The night pushed on as expected, and within what felt like only moments we were headed back out to the bus, ready to catch a hotel room and some sleep. We were scheduled to spend two nights in Philly and normally it would be a welcomed vacation, but I didn’t like being so close to Bam. There were too many opportunities for something to go wrong.
We were checked in at a Regency Hyatt a few blocks from the club, the entire fifth floor quarantined for our eyes only. I liked the seclusion it provided and it almost felt like home, but not quite. As we shuffled to our designated suits I stopped a few doors before my own and pulled Mige aside.
“What is it, love?” he asked with a concerned pitch, waitng before he was sure the others couldn’t hear.
“I need to take care of a few things tonight, so I won’t be in until later,” I tried to make it sound casual, but the words came out forced and brittle. “Make sure the guys don’t know about this.”
He only smiled and nodded his head, patting me on the back lightly before walking toward his own room. I waited in the hallway until everyone was settled before heading back toward the elevators.
Waiting for the lift when you’re in a hurry is like sitting in traffic. It never moves when you want it to, and when it finally gets to you a person steals your spot. I nearly growled as the elevator slinked its way to my floor, a soft bell dinging as it got closer and closer. One floor up it stopped.
“Bloody fucking hell, hurry your ass up,” I spat, pushing the button with a newfound fervor. When it finally stopped at my floor, thankfully empty, I jumped inside and continued to slam the little button with the star on it, my foot tapping impatiently on the floor.
There was a cab waiting for me outside-I had called the company on an earlier trip to the “bathroom”-and I was very relieved to know that I didn’t have to do anymore waiting. Climbing in the cab, I handed the driver two hundred US dollars and told him where to go. He nodded, stumbling a bit at the excessive pay, before incessantly thanking me and driving off.
I watched as the city lights quickly faded, growing into one massive glowing ball in the distance as we made our way out into the suburbs. We took the highway, but I could still make out the houses lining the subdivisions flanking either side of the road. Before long even those were forgotten as we reached the country.
There was a time when I thought that America had no farm land, no forests and no wild life to speak of at all. I naively assumed that they were fully industrialized and had destroyed such gifts long ago. When I first came to West Chester, I was shocked by the small town feel of the settlement. There were farms surrounding the entire city as far as the ones in Finland, some even farther. It completely changed my perspective on things, and each time I drive this way I can’t help but think about that first visit.
The cab turned down a private road, one that I had to point out and that was hidden amongst a clutter of thick trees. It was a dirt road, long and winding. It snaked up to the castle where king Bam dotingly resided.
As the cab pulled up in front of the hand painted unicorn door, I found myself unwilling to get out. What the hell was I thinking coming here? I know he told me to come, but still…what was I doing? This was ridiculous. The driver looked back at me expectantly, probably wondering what the hell I was doing. I was sure the only reason he didn’t usher me out of the cab was the substantial tip he had already received.
“Yo, sir, I don’t mean to be a pain but…” his heavy Philly accent pulled me from my thoughts. I looked at him to see if he was going to finish the sentence, but he let it dangle in the air.
“Sorry about that,” he only nodded as I pulled the handle and climbed out, the cool wind blowing my hair into my face. He pulled away before I reached the door, but I wasn’t sure if I should be grateful for that or not. It eliminated my chances for escape.
The door was massive, taller than any I had seen on a house before. Cherry red doors with wrought iron bars across them towered into the sky, a perfect heartagram cast in each one. My fingers gingerly traced the artwork, running along the entire base before stopping at the tip of one of the heartagrams. Knocking gently on the door, I waited for it to open.
“COMING!” someone shouted from within, and I immediately recognized the voice as Bam’s. There was shuffling on the other side and the sound of something falling over before the doors finally opened.
“Hey,” I said simply, my hand sticking up in a stiff wave. He smiled and marshaled me inside, taking my jacket and closing the door.
~*~
And there you have it, semi-cliff hanger ending. Mwahahahahahahahahahaha. Sorry.
Comments = Steamy Vam Make-Up Sex