(no subject)
Title: I Can't Remember What I Hated About New Year's Eve (Companion to This Year Won't Suck, Ville's view)
Author:
slasher48 /
bad_bad_books
Rating: R. Swearage.
Pairing: Vam, of course. And a wittle bit of Bam and his wife Missy. But only implied.
Disclaimer: As I write on every single thing I write, print, or share...I do not own them. Bam and Ville are copyrighted by themselves and their many associations. Sire, MTV, Sirius, you name it. If I could, I'd ask them permission to write this stuff. But that's so not going to happen, I'm not that lucky.
AN: So I lied. The vibe of the other one and one specific comment made by
rebbolia about its humanness inspired me to write more to it. And if I can manage it, this won't be the last. It's the same story, really, as the other, just written from Ville's point of view.
This Year Won't Suck
I’m sitting in an airport in…where are we again?
Mige knows. Oh, yeah. We’re in Raleigh. Four hours to Pennsylvania.
Bam invited me to his usual New Year’s Eve shindig at Castle Bam. I wasn’t going to go, but at the request of his seventy-third message, I gave in.
I’ve been avoiding him whenever I can lately.
Why?
Well, he’s my best mate and I’m in love with him.
Oh, and he’s straight and married to a woman.
Do the math.
But I suppose I can’t stay away forever. He was already angry and hurt enough when I skipped out on his wedding, and I really never again wanna hear the kicked puppy tone he had in his voice when he called to bitch me out upon returning from his honeymoon.
Oh, fuck, man. I have to get on another plane.
Well, this seat isn’t as horribly uncomfortable as the last one was. Maybe the vegetarian meals will be better as well. If I have to eat another half-frozen steamed carrot, I’m going to scream.
Aw fuck, they’re playing Beatles hits. I should’ve known the comfortable chair came with a price.
Wait! I have my iPod with me. I’ll drown them out with Sabbath. Take that, you over-rated English fucks.
Hmm. With Ozzy in my ear and ooh, a reclining seat, I could just fall aslee…
*
I wake just as the plane is touching the runway. Whoa, did I really sleep four hours? Mige says I did, so I guess so.
It must be the fact that I haven’t slept well lately. Bam-dreams are keeping me up.
Fantastic. They lost my suitcase. Ah well, I’ll worry about that later.
…Or Mige’ll worry about it? He seems to be choosing to stay and handle the luggage crisis. I hug him in thanks and catch a cab with my carry-on and a small backpack.
I steel myself to do what I’m about to during the half-hour long ride to Bam’s Castle.
I’ll have to plan it perfectly to kiss him exactly as the new year arrives.
I yell as a limousine full of Philadelphia partygoers cuts off my cab. This is bullshit!
I’m going to be late for what could end up the most important moment of my life.
Stupid fucking New Year’s Eve.
*
I’m standing at his door. The raucous laughter and excited counting is audible even through the thick doors. I don’t hear Bam. I know if he were in there, I’d be able to hear him above the others. Bam doesn’t take second to anyone when it comes to attention.
A familiar, enticing smell reaches me. Marlboros. I follow the smoky scent, wishing my cigs weren’t all smoked already, and there he is.
His shoulders are shaking as he takes another hit off the half-smoked cigarette.
He’s crying. He’s crying and smoking Marlboros.
Bam doesn’t smoke Marlboros. He smokes the pussy cigarettes.
Does this imply what I’m hoping it implies?
I call out to him. “Bammie?”
It startles him into almost falling off the railing where he sits. I run and grab him. Wouldn’t it be just my luck to have him die after I decide to finally tell him how I feel.
I breathe deeply, relieved when he’s still in tact. He steps over the railing and turns to me. There’s astonishment on his face.
“Hey, Bam…” I say. I wonder if he can hear the hesitance in my voice. I certainly can.
“Hi,” he says, giving nothing away. I’m trying to read him and I can’t. Why the hell not? He’s usually an open book!
Okay, it’s now or never. I can do this.
“Bam, I…” I love you. I’ve loved you forever.
His eyes are anxious, eager. Does he want me to say it? I can’t tell. Maybe he thinks I’m about to say something else.
“…I’m sorry I’m late.” I chickened out. Damnit.
His face is let down, disappointed. He shrugs.
“No biggie.” Ugh, Bam, why do you have to be so confusing and unreadable!
Fuck it. I’m doing it anyway. “No, no, it really is, because…”
I stop to see his reaction. His face is bored, but that could be the usual Bam act.
“…I wanted to kiss you when the New Year came.” At his wide, clear blue eyes, I blush and avert my eyes.
Way to humiliate yourself, Valo. I don’t even know how he feels yet.
“I don’t care. Just kiss me now, then.”
What? Did he just say…?
Don’t have to tell me twice.
Wow, his tongue. He tastes like Jack and Marlboros. I can’t even want a cigarette when I taste it in his mouth. He tastes way too good to pull away for a smoke.
Wait, I thought I told Ryan to keep him away from the whiskey?
I pull away from him to ask him how much he’s drunk tonight. Don’t want him passing out on me. Plus, I need to know he kissed me with a clear head. I don’t want whiskey to be an excuse.
His eyes are completely clear. The blue is the color of a cloudless summer sky. He’s not drunk and he loves me. It’s in the way his hand rests on my shoulder even after we parted. It’s in that small smile lingering on his lips. It’s in those big blue eyes.
A door slams. Missy knows. Uh-oh.
He seems completely unconcerned though, even though I know he saw her too. I’ll have to ask him later what he knows that I don’t.
He whispers, “That rocked,” and I nod in agreement, leaning to kiss him again.
What did I hate about New Year’s Eve again?
***
So did I manage to make the magic of the first one stretch? Tell me! Please?! I need to know if I failed or not. And you know I'll reward you all with gushing replies and as many more chapters with this vibe as I can squeeze out of me! :)
Author:
slasher48 /
bad_bad_books
Rating: R. Swearage.
Pairing: Vam, of course. And a wittle bit of Bam and his wife Missy. But only implied.
Disclaimer: As I write on every single thing I write, print, or share...I do not own them. Bam and Ville are copyrighted by themselves and their many associations. Sire, MTV, Sirius, you name it. If I could, I'd ask them permission to write this stuff. But that's so not going to happen, I'm not that lucky.
AN: So I lied. The vibe of the other one and one specific comment made by
rebbolia about its humanness inspired me to write more to it. And if I can manage it, this won't be the last. It's the same story, really, as the other, just written from Ville's point of view.
This Year Won't Suck
I’m sitting in an airport in…where are we again?
Mige knows. Oh, yeah. We’re in Raleigh. Four hours to Pennsylvania.
Bam invited me to his usual New Year’s Eve shindig at Castle Bam. I wasn’t going to go, but at the request of his seventy-third message, I gave in.
I’ve been avoiding him whenever I can lately.
Why?
Well, he’s my best mate and I’m in love with him.
Oh, and he’s straight and married to a woman.
Do the math.
But I suppose I can’t stay away forever. He was already angry and hurt enough when I skipped out on his wedding, and I really never again wanna hear the kicked puppy tone he had in his voice when he called to bitch me out upon returning from his honeymoon.
Oh, fuck, man. I have to get on another plane.
Well, this seat isn’t as horribly uncomfortable as the last one was. Maybe the vegetarian meals will be better as well. If I have to eat another half-frozen steamed carrot, I’m going to scream.
Aw fuck, they’re playing Beatles hits. I should’ve known the comfortable chair came with a price.
Wait! I have my iPod with me. I’ll drown them out with Sabbath. Take that, you over-rated English fucks.
Hmm. With Ozzy in my ear and ooh, a reclining seat, I could just fall aslee…
*
I wake just as the plane is touching the runway. Whoa, did I really sleep four hours? Mige says I did, so I guess so.
It must be the fact that I haven’t slept well lately. Bam-dreams are keeping me up.
Fantastic. They lost my suitcase. Ah well, I’ll worry about that later.
…Or Mige’ll worry about it? He seems to be choosing to stay and handle the luggage crisis. I hug him in thanks and catch a cab with my carry-on and a small backpack.
I steel myself to do what I’m about to during the half-hour long ride to Bam’s Castle.
I’ll have to plan it perfectly to kiss him exactly as the new year arrives.
I yell as a limousine full of Philadelphia partygoers cuts off my cab. This is bullshit!
I’m going to be late for what could end up the most important moment of my life.
Stupid fucking New Year’s Eve.
*
I’m standing at his door. The raucous laughter and excited counting is audible even through the thick doors. I don’t hear Bam. I know if he were in there, I’d be able to hear him above the others. Bam doesn’t take second to anyone when it comes to attention.
A familiar, enticing smell reaches me. Marlboros. I follow the smoky scent, wishing my cigs weren’t all smoked already, and there he is.
His shoulders are shaking as he takes another hit off the half-smoked cigarette.
He’s crying. He’s crying and smoking Marlboros.
Bam doesn’t smoke Marlboros. He smokes the pussy cigarettes.
Does this imply what I’m hoping it implies?
I call out to him. “Bammie?”
It startles him into almost falling off the railing where he sits. I run and grab him. Wouldn’t it be just my luck to have him die after I decide to finally tell him how I feel.
I breathe deeply, relieved when he’s still in tact. He steps over the railing and turns to me. There’s astonishment on his face.
“Hey, Bam…” I say. I wonder if he can hear the hesitance in my voice. I certainly can.
“Hi,” he says, giving nothing away. I’m trying to read him and I can’t. Why the hell not? He’s usually an open book!
Okay, it’s now or never. I can do this.
“Bam, I…” I love you. I’ve loved you forever.
His eyes are anxious, eager. Does he want me to say it? I can’t tell. Maybe he thinks I’m about to say something else.
“…I’m sorry I’m late.” I chickened out. Damnit.
His face is let down, disappointed. He shrugs.
“No biggie.” Ugh, Bam, why do you have to be so confusing and unreadable!
Fuck it. I’m doing it anyway. “No, no, it really is, because…”
I stop to see his reaction. His face is bored, but that could be the usual Bam act.
“…I wanted to kiss you when the New Year came.” At his wide, clear blue eyes, I blush and avert my eyes.
Way to humiliate yourself, Valo. I don’t even know how he feels yet.
“I don’t care. Just kiss me now, then.”
What? Did he just say…?
Don’t have to tell me twice.
Wow, his tongue. He tastes like Jack and Marlboros. I can’t even want a cigarette when I taste it in his mouth. He tastes way too good to pull away for a smoke.
Wait, I thought I told Ryan to keep him away from the whiskey?
I pull away from him to ask him how much he’s drunk tonight. Don’t want him passing out on me. Plus, I need to know he kissed me with a clear head. I don’t want whiskey to be an excuse.
His eyes are completely clear. The blue is the color of a cloudless summer sky. He’s not drunk and he loves me. It’s in the way his hand rests on my shoulder even after we parted. It’s in that small smile lingering on his lips. It’s in those big blue eyes.
A door slams. Missy knows. Uh-oh.
He seems completely unconcerned though, even though I know he saw her too. I’ll have to ask him later what he knows that I don’t.
He whispers, “That rocked,” and I nod in agreement, leaning to kiss him again.
What did I hate about New Year’s Eve again?
***
So did I manage to make the magic of the first one stretch? Tell me! Please?! I need to know if I failed or not. And you know I'll reward you all with gushing replies and as many more chapters with this vibe as I can squeeze out of me! :)