(no subject)
Title: L'Acteur
Chapter: Seventeen. I'm Yours, Though.
Author:
slasher48 /
bad_bad_books
Rating: R. Language.
Pairing: Vam...a little hint of Minde ;)
Disclaimer: As always, don't own, don't know, don't sue.
AN: Ah, this was as fun to write as I suspected ; )
The First Meeting
The Wrong Idea
Gone Too Far
Don't Apologize
Thirteen Is Old Enough
Real Important
Reality's The Nightmare
Go To Dinner With Me?
What The HELL Would He Wear?
Was He Really That Lucky?
So He Wrote On
How Has It Changed?
Goddamned Reptile House
See You Tomorrow, Ville
His Clothes
Too Good Of An Actor
The foursome ended up drinking Ville and Bam out of any alcohol housed in their bar, Linde choosing a smooth rum while Mige and Ville enjoyed the Finlandia Mige brought and Bam, with reluctance from Ville, was allowed to down every last bit of Jack Daniels he could find.
With every sip came looser lips and less inhibition. By about Linde's fifth bottle, the pretty blond had moved almost fully into Ville's lap and was dancing his fingers up and down the man's arms, giving him the shivers. He murmured, "I never really stopped missing what we had when we were younger, Vil'," brushing kisses along the slender neck of his former lover.
Bam and Mige watched with gritted teeth, but as the bottle of Jack became more and more empty, Bam started to pay less and less attention to decorum and more and more attention to the fact that Ville was his.
Mige had fallen asleep; he'd never really been able to stay conscious for long under the influence, and even with jealous anger coursing through his veins because he'd wanted Lily for years, this time was no different.
But all it took was the meeting of Ville's lips with Linde's when Ville was way too drunk to fight him off and Bam was knocking over his chair, standing so fast his legs nearly gave out from the suddenness of it. He stomped over to the two and yanked Linde by the hair off Ville, growling possessively.
Ville stood, swaying a little; he'd drunk enough to get even someone with as high a tolerance as he had totally incapacitated. "You promised,” he hissed at Bam and Bam glared at him.
"Ville, I know I fucking promised, but I never fucking promised to watch him drape himself all over you like some whore and kiss those lips, those lips that no one but I am supposed to kiss."
Ville glared. “You don’t own me, Bam,” he snarled.
Ville’s stare was nothing compared to Linde’s though, as the slender man shot to his feet and savagely pushed Bam. “I’m no whore, you cunt!”
Bam had been waiting for that, though, and with one harsh blow to the cheek, took Linde off his feet and out of consciousness. Then, he turned to deal with Ville, crossing his arms in a stance that screamed ‘Don’t fuck with me.’
“You’re such a prick, Bam,” Ville said with a scowl, turning to stumble his way into his room and fall into bed. He missed how Bam’s face fell or how his angry lumber turned into a depressed drag as the younger man went into his own room.
Bam heard Ville’s snores and collapsed onto his bed, pulling the covers over his still fully clothed form and whispering coldly into the air, “Excuse me if I thought ‘I love you’ meant no one was allowed to touch you but me…”
*
The next day found Ville in the bathroom bent over the toilet; he’d drunk way too much last night if he was actually getting sick from it.
His stomach was alternating between doing back flips and dropping to his knees and his heart wasn’t much better as he remembered the exchange between him and Bam. He’d been an ass about the whole thing, the way he usually was when he was stone wasted; Bam probably thought he wasn’t enough for him after that stupid fight, and if Ville knew him as well as he’d like to think, the younger man was probably beating himself up over it even now.
Ville was on his way to apologize and hopefully garner some lovely morning make up sex when he was accosted by a sexy slim blond with rum breath and a glaze in his eyes that told Ville he wasn’t about to see reason.
But he wasn’t about to lose Bam over this; not when more than just Bam’s feelings was in the balance. So he pushed Linde away and on top of Mige’s still dead asleep figure, slugging his way to Bam’s room and tapping lightly on the door.
The sound wasn’t loud enough, but it was open and the door slid silently away from the doorway a crack so Ville could peek in without being seen.
He knew he’d been right to think Bam was under the impression he wasn’t enough for Ville when he saw the younger man in front of the full length mirror he’d never admit to buying, lifting his shirt and pinching his flawless abdomen, trying to find fat that wasn’t there, then turning again to see if his ass was losing its firmness or something, then inspecting his face for wrinkles and checking to see if his muscle tone hadn’t disappeared.
Even as Ville couldn’t help but smirk a little at how cute it was to see Bam checking himself out for flaws that Ville might find too horrible to continue seeing just him, Ville caught sight of the pain lining Bam’s face and the slowly dissipating brightness in those lovely blue eyes and his heart clenched.
What had he done? Bam was still only seventeen; sure he acted beyond his years sometimes but that was no excuse for Ville to forget he was still fragile and just as insecure as he’d been at thirteen, at ten…he still doubted himself every second and subconsciously looked for others to doubt him as well.
And all Ville had done was give him that very thing; he’d implied that Bam wasn’t good enough to keep Ville monogamous, that he needed more than Bam could give.
The barely there murmur of, “What does Lily have that he wants more than me?” brought tears to Ville’s eyes and he stepped out of the doorway before he’d whimper and give himself away, leaning against the wall and putting his hand to his mouth.
How could he have done this to Bam? He had to fix this; he missed the arrogant, cocky Bam already. This unconfident, unsure Bam saddened him.
Ville swallowed back the tears and gracefully glided back into the room, pushing the door shut behind him and noiselessly dropping onto Bam’s bed, just out of sight of the mirror.
Bam didn’t notice, continuing to examine himself for imaginary faults, his shoulders slumping further with every second that passed.
He saw the first tear fall and could bear it no longer. “You won’t find anything,” he said grimly, crossing his legs on Bam’s bed and keeping a steady gaze as the younger man turned from the mirror to face him in shock.
“What?” Bam looked surprised, but there was wariness there, one that hadn’t been there before, as he stared back at Ville.
Ville sighed. “You won’t find anything, darling. You’re perfect; whatever flaws you’re searching so desperately for, you haven’t a chance in hell of finding them.”
Bam almost smiled, but the conversation from the previous night must have come back to him, because he didn’t. “Then what the fuck were you doing kissing Linde?”
Ville bit his lip. “For one, I wasn’t kissing Linde; he was kissing me, and I was too damned pissed to get him off me, and for two,” he stopped himself with another sigh, “I’m really sorry for what I said last night.”
Bam’s face stayed locked in a frown, but he did sit softly next to Ville on the bed and lay his head on the older man’s shoulder. “You made me feel like I didn’t have a right to be jealous, to feel possessive when he was touching you like only I should be allowed to…like I didn’t have a fucking right to assert the fact that you’re mine.”
Ville couldn’t help the way his hackles raised at the implication of being the possession of someone else’s; he’d always considered himself an extremely independent creature and it always irked him to be referred to as being owned. “But I’m not, Bam…you don’t own me, like I said.”
Bam looked sad again, inching away from Ville on the bed, saying in a small voice, “You’re not mine, Willa?”
He looked so scared that Ville almost insisted that yes, of course he was Bam's.
But when he added, “I’m yours though…” Ville couldn’t help but smile tenderly at him and tug him into his arms for a hug.
Bam sniffled into his shirt and Ville felt like a complete jerk. “I guess we can be each other’s, then, Bammie,” he said softly, pulling Bam tighter to him and burying his face in curls smelling of whiskey and sweat.
*
They didn’t say a word when the two of them walked out of Bam’s room to see Mige and Linde making out under a blanket on the couch, just chuckled and went in to eat breakfast.
Later when the two broke apart to come eat, however, was quite a different story. But that teasing was what turned Bam’s hatred for the two into a grudging friendship, and that wouldn’t change for a long, long time.
“Only friends, eh, Mizee?” The blushes were answer enough, and the laughter of four friends filled the kitchen.
***
AGH! The Sabres game is killing me! Cheer me up with some lovely comments, please? :\
Chapter: Seventeen. I'm Yours, Though.
Author:
slasher48 /
bad_bad_books
Rating: R. Language.
Pairing: Vam...a little hint of Minde ;)
Disclaimer: As always, don't own, don't know, don't sue.
AN: Ah, this was as fun to write as I suspected ; )
The First Meeting
The Wrong Idea
Gone Too Far
Don't Apologize
Thirteen Is Old Enough
Real Important
Reality's The Nightmare
Go To Dinner With Me?
What The HELL Would He Wear?
Was He Really That Lucky?
So He Wrote On
How Has It Changed?
Goddamned Reptile House
See You Tomorrow, Ville
His Clothes
Too Good Of An Actor
The foursome ended up drinking Ville and Bam out of any alcohol housed in their bar, Linde choosing a smooth rum while Mige and Ville enjoyed the Finlandia Mige brought and Bam, with reluctance from Ville, was allowed to down every last bit of Jack Daniels he could find.
With every sip came looser lips and less inhibition. By about Linde's fifth bottle, the pretty blond had moved almost fully into Ville's lap and was dancing his fingers up and down the man's arms, giving him the shivers. He murmured, "I never really stopped missing what we had when we were younger, Vil'," brushing kisses along the slender neck of his former lover.
Bam and Mige watched with gritted teeth, but as the bottle of Jack became more and more empty, Bam started to pay less and less attention to decorum and more and more attention to the fact that Ville was his.
Mige had fallen asleep; he'd never really been able to stay conscious for long under the influence, and even with jealous anger coursing through his veins because he'd wanted Lily for years, this time was no different.
But all it took was the meeting of Ville's lips with Linde's when Ville was way too drunk to fight him off and Bam was knocking over his chair, standing so fast his legs nearly gave out from the suddenness of it. He stomped over to the two and yanked Linde by the hair off Ville, growling possessively.
Ville stood, swaying a little; he'd drunk enough to get even someone with as high a tolerance as he had totally incapacitated. "You promised,” he hissed at Bam and Bam glared at him.
"Ville, I know I fucking promised, but I never fucking promised to watch him drape himself all over you like some whore and kiss those lips, those lips that no one but I am supposed to kiss."
Ville glared. “You don’t own me, Bam,” he snarled.
Ville’s stare was nothing compared to Linde’s though, as the slender man shot to his feet and savagely pushed Bam. “I’m no whore, you cunt!”
Bam had been waiting for that, though, and with one harsh blow to the cheek, took Linde off his feet and out of consciousness. Then, he turned to deal with Ville, crossing his arms in a stance that screamed ‘Don’t fuck with me.’
“You’re such a prick, Bam,” Ville said with a scowl, turning to stumble his way into his room and fall into bed. He missed how Bam’s face fell or how his angry lumber turned into a depressed drag as the younger man went into his own room.
Bam heard Ville’s snores and collapsed onto his bed, pulling the covers over his still fully clothed form and whispering coldly into the air, “Excuse me if I thought ‘I love you’ meant no one was allowed to touch you but me…”
*
The next day found Ville in the bathroom bent over the toilet; he’d drunk way too much last night if he was actually getting sick from it.
His stomach was alternating between doing back flips and dropping to his knees and his heart wasn’t much better as he remembered the exchange between him and Bam. He’d been an ass about the whole thing, the way he usually was when he was stone wasted; Bam probably thought he wasn’t enough for him after that stupid fight, and if Ville knew him as well as he’d like to think, the younger man was probably beating himself up over it even now.
Ville was on his way to apologize and hopefully garner some lovely morning make up sex when he was accosted by a sexy slim blond with rum breath and a glaze in his eyes that told Ville he wasn’t about to see reason.
But he wasn’t about to lose Bam over this; not when more than just Bam’s feelings was in the balance. So he pushed Linde away and on top of Mige’s still dead asleep figure, slugging his way to Bam’s room and tapping lightly on the door.
The sound wasn’t loud enough, but it was open and the door slid silently away from the doorway a crack so Ville could peek in without being seen.
He knew he’d been right to think Bam was under the impression he wasn’t enough for Ville when he saw the younger man in front of the full length mirror he’d never admit to buying, lifting his shirt and pinching his flawless abdomen, trying to find fat that wasn’t there, then turning again to see if his ass was losing its firmness or something, then inspecting his face for wrinkles and checking to see if his muscle tone hadn’t disappeared.
Even as Ville couldn’t help but smirk a little at how cute it was to see Bam checking himself out for flaws that Ville might find too horrible to continue seeing just him, Ville caught sight of the pain lining Bam’s face and the slowly dissipating brightness in those lovely blue eyes and his heart clenched.
What had he done? Bam was still only seventeen; sure he acted beyond his years sometimes but that was no excuse for Ville to forget he was still fragile and just as insecure as he’d been at thirteen, at ten…he still doubted himself every second and subconsciously looked for others to doubt him as well.
And all Ville had done was give him that very thing; he’d implied that Bam wasn’t good enough to keep Ville monogamous, that he needed more than Bam could give.
The barely there murmur of, “What does Lily have that he wants more than me?” brought tears to Ville’s eyes and he stepped out of the doorway before he’d whimper and give himself away, leaning against the wall and putting his hand to his mouth.
How could he have done this to Bam? He had to fix this; he missed the arrogant, cocky Bam already. This unconfident, unsure Bam saddened him.
Ville swallowed back the tears and gracefully glided back into the room, pushing the door shut behind him and noiselessly dropping onto Bam’s bed, just out of sight of the mirror.
Bam didn’t notice, continuing to examine himself for imaginary faults, his shoulders slumping further with every second that passed.
He saw the first tear fall and could bear it no longer. “You won’t find anything,” he said grimly, crossing his legs on Bam’s bed and keeping a steady gaze as the younger man turned from the mirror to face him in shock.
“What?” Bam looked surprised, but there was wariness there, one that hadn’t been there before, as he stared back at Ville.
Ville sighed. “You won’t find anything, darling. You’re perfect; whatever flaws you’re searching so desperately for, you haven’t a chance in hell of finding them.”
Bam almost smiled, but the conversation from the previous night must have come back to him, because he didn’t. “Then what the fuck were you doing kissing Linde?”
Ville bit his lip. “For one, I wasn’t kissing Linde; he was kissing me, and I was too damned pissed to get him off me, and for two,” he stopped himself with another sigh, “I’m really sorry for what I said last night.”
Bam’s face stayed locked in a frown, but he did sit softly next to Ville on the bed and lay his head on the older man’s shoulder. “You made me feel like I didn’t have a right to be jealous, to feel possessive when he was touching you like only I should be allowed to…like I didn’t have a fucking right to assert the fact that you’re mine.”
Ville couldn’t help the way his hackles raised at the implication of being the possession of someone else’s; he’d always considered himself an extremely independent creature and it always irked him to be referred to as being owned. “But I’m not, Bam…you don’t own me, like I said.”
Bam looked sad again, inching away from Ville on the bed, saying in a small voice, “You’re not mine, Willa?”
He looked so scared that Ville almost insisted that yes, of course he was Bam's.
But when he added, “I’m yours though…” Ville couldn’t help but smile tenderly at him and tug him into his arms for a hug.
Bam sniffled into his shirt and Ville felt like a complete jerk. “I guess we can be each other’s, then, Bammie,” he said softly, pulling Bam tighter to him and burying his face in curls smelling of whiskey and sweat.
*
They didn’t say a word when the two of them walked out of Bam’s room to see Mige and Linde making out under a blanket on the couch, just chuckled and went in to eat breakfast.
Later when the two broke apart to come eat, however, was quite a different story. But that teasing was what turned Bam’s hatred for the two into a grudging friendship, and that wouldn’t change for a long, long time.
“Only friends, eh, Mizee?” The blushes were answer enough, and the laughter of four friends filled the kitchen.
***
AGH! The Sabres game is killing me! Cheer me up with some lovely comments, please? :\