a happy ending!
Title: Vidrar Vel Til Loftarasa
Author: x_carnivale_x
Rating: PG13
Genre: Romance, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, slight AU.
Pairing: Let's think really hard about this. [VAM]
Author's Notes: I'm not usually one for these kinds of stories, you know, them starting out as kids, etc... But hey, I gave it a shot. Yes, I know Bam's father isn't dead, and that Ville didn't grow up in Pennsylvania. But psh. Bam is the 'you', while Ville is 'he'. PS THIS HAS A HAPPY ENDING!
Disclaimer: Untrue. Damn.
Summary: As they pulled from their driveway, you caught a glance at the back window. There was Ville, holding a piece of paper that in large print stated I'll come back for you.
It had started when you were thirteen, just a young boy, lost and confused. It had started when he had come into your life. With his dark hair and stormy sea-green eyes. You were positive that he wasn't of this earth, that he had to have been some kind of heavenly being. So much stronger than you, taller, older and so much more confident.
You had always wondered how he managed it.
It had started when you were skateboarding, like you usually did on your free days. Just riding through the neighborhood, not a care in the world. You had met him there. And it was a collision. Literally. The two of you had run straight into each other and had lain on the ground laughing, until you both could find a straight face to ask the other if they were okay.
"I'm Ville." He had said, not a trace of shyness in his voice. Somehow, you knew that this was the beginning of something great. You just hadn't caught onto what it was yet.
It had started in your childhood, just two boys, living their lives. From girlfriends, to broken hearts, to exams, to sports, to music, to everything utterly childish. [Your mother always told you that you were immature. But hey, didn't you have a right to be? You were, after all, just a child.]
It had progressed as the years did. Your bond growing closer, and the need for his company becoming stronger. The two of you did everything together, playing off each other and learnining from each other. You taught him the trade of skateboarding, while he attempted to teach you the finer points of roller blading.
Oh the bruises from those adventures.
But he had always been there. Through everything.
It had started when your father had passed. Left with a grieving mother, you were devastated. And on the night that you had received the word, you had crawled out your bedroom window, walked the short block towards his house and snuck through his bedroom window, crawling into bed with him and crying. He had woken immediately. You started to explain yourself, but he had silenced you. He already knew, his mother had told him. You had buried your face into his tshirt and had soaked it with your tears, him never minding at all. He just stroked your hair lightly and left tiny kisses of comfort on the top of your head.
His mother hadn't been angry the next morning. You showed up at the breakfast table with Ville looking sheepish, and she had kissed your forehead and said not to be late to school. Ville had just smiled. The years went by, and this became a regular event. You would show up at his window in the late hours of the night, and he was always awake, always waiting for you, ready to dry your eyes if you so needed it.
It had taken a hard turn when Ville came to you one day and requested for you to come to his room again that night. He would give no reason other than that he wanted to talk. You had been nervous, Ville was a block of ice with everyone except for you. It somewhat bothered you that he had decided not to tell you what he wished to discuss. However, you attempted not to let it worry you. You would find out soon enough.
As two am rolled around that night, you slid slowly out of your bed and tiptoed to your window. It was nights like these that you were oh so thankful that your bedroom was on the first floor, aiding in your escapes. You dashed across your lawn, through the backyards of your neighbors and to the side of Ville's white house. You crawled up to his window, and went to knock, but before you could, there he was, staring at you through the pane of glass. His eyes held sadness as he gazed; that hurt look in his eyes was something you were none yet familiar with.
"You're here." He whispered, almost shocked.
He had pushed the window up and you began to crawl through the window lattice. You two were silent for a few moments, but you had decided to walk past him towards his bed. With your back to Ville, you heard a small thud, which had caused you to turn around. Ville had fallen back against the wall and slid towards the floor. He had looked at you with red rimmed eyes and reached his hand out to you. Immediately, you had been by his side, cradling his body against your own as he let out silent tears.
You had no idea what had caused your friend such anguish, but you knew Ville all too well, and knew that pushing the subject was a bad move. It would only push him away, he would tell you when he wanted to. You rocked him quietly for an hour or so, and eventually, he'd settled down.
"Should've heard him, Bam..." he mumbled.
"Heard who?"
"He said, 'So, son... why aren't you going to prom?'
'Well, dad... they wont let me take the date I want...'
'And why not?'
'It's a guy, dad...'" Ville paused for a moment before continuing.
"He told me that he never should've had a kid." He whispered into the darkness, letting the hurt hang in the air thickly.
After this confession, you sat stunned, unsure of what to do... or say... or hell, even think. Should you have been shocked that he so readily admitted to you that he wasn't as straight as you had originally thought... or should you have been disgusted with how his father had treated him? You knew neither... So you remained quiet.
He leaned away from you, and stared directly at you, his gaze never faltering.
"Do you understand, Bam?"
You nodded dumbly. You didn't know what you were supposed to do. For lack of a better phrase... you were mind fucked. Your brain couldn't comprehend anything at the moment. So... feeling took over.
It was a shock, even to yourself, the one who made the first move. You were stunned at what you had done. But feeling his bottom lip between your own set something off. You didn't know why you did it. You supposed you never would. But as you pushed yourself closer to him and as his hands found your cheeks, you lost all sense of reason. You had grabbed his waist tightly and crushed him closer, dying to feel him, to smell him, to taste him.
You had awoken the next morning with Ville's arms wrapped tightly around your body, and his lips against your ear. And god was it a wonderful way to wake up.
You had showed up again at the breakfast table of Ville's house, and you could see the relief etched onto the older boy's face when he saw that his father had already left for work. You looked on silently as Ville sat at the table and his mother leaned down to his ear and mumbled something quietly to him, too quiet for you to hear.
You had pretended to be uninterested. And you had not asked about it later. But your curiousity had grown, and you could not rid yourself of Ville's face at that moment, as it had held slight confusion and hurt at whatever words his mother had said.
Your pain had started when Ville finally decided to discuss the issue with you. As you two walked along the sidewalk quietly, holding your skateboards at your side, he'd brushed his arm against yours and took your hand, lacing your fingers together. But he'd stopped walking, and apparently so had you. And it was then that he explained what his mother had told him...
He was moving... back to Helsinki.
You could barely push out a "why" but he had heard you, and he softly explained that his father's job had transfered back. That they had to move.
He had hugged you tightly and told you that movers were coming the next day, that he would be gone in less than a week. The day had rolled on, too quickly for your liking, and the morning had come... bringing moving trucks to your best friend's house. You had walked out into the yard while they loaded random items of furniture onto the trucks. You hugged yourself tightly, shivering slightly in the chilly wind and curling your toes at the dew-dropped grass. He had seen you and padded over to you lightly. Greeting you with a quick kiss on the cheek.
He told you he was leaving tomorrow. And you wondered if the two of you would meet again.
As the next morning came about, you awoke in a hurry, desperate to see him one last time before he left you. You had flung your jeans and hoodie on and dashed towards his house, where he was starting towards his parents' car. You had called his name, and he'd looked up at you, smiling, but as he started towards you, his father had grabbed his arm. Holding him back, shaking his head as if to tell Ville "no." You stopped running before you reached their yard, but still, you managed to see the look of hurt on Ville's face, the look of someone who held back tears. He'd slid into the car without another glance towards you, and you frantically ran after them. As they pulled from their driveway, you caught a glance at the back window. There was Ville, holding a piece of paper that in large print stated I'll come back for you.
Days had turned to weeks.
Weeks to months.
Months to years.
And as the years went by, you had grown up [kind of], as you assumed so had Ville. You had met new people, and you had a decent-sized group of whom you considered to be your good friends. You graduated from high school and went on to live on your own. The flat you had chosen was less than 25 minutes away from where you had grown up, but you supposed it didn't matter, considering that you were going to a university near there.
But no matter how much time had gone by, you never could forget him. The image of his car driving away from you was burned into your mind, along with that sign that said he would come back.
...So why hadn't he?
Surely he was on his own now... Why hadn't he come back?
Had he abandoned you?
Left you here to wait and rot?
You didn't know. Nor would you ever know.
He had left, promised to return, and never did. That was that. There was no changing a thing, and you knew it. The hope he'd given you as he'd left dwindled after a year's time, until there was no hope left in you. What once was hope, had become disappointment.
But you supposed that it was alright.
But still, you couldn't help but wish. And someties you would pull out the only picture of him you had, trace the contours of his face, and tell yourself that maybe tomorrow he'd call, saying that he'd found you. But every morning, you had to let yourself down. Waking up to an empty house, a phone with no missed calls, and a heart that ached so badly you wanted to scream.
Before you knew it, you were out of the university, with a degree in graphic design. You had a friend, Johnny, who proposed the idea of a [stupid] stunt he wanted to pull. From that first incident, it had snowballed until you were all recognized by MTV and signed up as official Jackasses. The severe pain really was worth all the fun. Coming up with and enacting new stunts became the only thing to keep your mind off Ville. Maybe it wasn't healthy to be demolishing yourself on a daily basis, but hey, you figured it didn't matter since you were getting paid a hefty sum to do it.
Filming occasionally ran late in the evening, and a lot of times you returned home with aching bones and muscles, only to be greeted by your empty house which would usually bring about an aching heart. You had arrived home one night, after another normal stunt-session and dropped your keys on the table and shook out your rain soaked hair.
This just. hadn't been your night. Every idea you'd had was either turned down, or simply wasn't feasible without a huge amount of body damage [Jackass was all about body damage, but certainly not about comas.] You'd screwed up every line you were supposed to give, even missed several, and you'd even been stuck in a trailer with a fucking King Cobra earlier in the day. What was worse is that as you all had been combining clips for a new episode, a storm had knocked out power at Knoxville's place, so the night ended earlier than it needed to have ended. And upon reaching your home, you realized as you flicked the light switch that you too had lost power.
You had wondered through the dark, towards your living room, muttering random obscenities under your breath as you did so. You had sat in the dark on your old leather couch and stared out the window, fuming. An hour passed and the presence of a dark car in your drive way caught your attention. You thought to yourself Fuck... You weren't in the mood to deal with people.
You had watched as a figure had gotten out and dashed through the pouring rain towards your door. You heard the knocking and forced yourself up, unlocking the door and opening it, not expecting what was standing there before you.
A dark haired boy man stood before you, rain dripping from his face, his green eyes shining. He smiled a tiny smile, and you gaped, unable to make a single noise.
"I told you I would come back..." he said.
[fin]
I hope you guys enjoyed this.
Please, please, review.
I didn't write this for no feedback.
- Pandora.
Author: x_carnivale_x
Rating: PG13
Genre: Romance, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, slight AU.
Pairing: Let's think really hard about this. [VAM]
Author's Notes: I'm not usually one for these kinds of stories, you know, them starting out as kids, etc... But hey, I gave it a shot. Yes, I know Bam's father isn't dead, and that Ville didn't grow up in Pennsylvania. But psh. Bam is the 'you', while Ville is 'he'. PS THIS HAS A HAPPY ENDING!
Disclaimer: Untrue. Damn.
Summary: As they pulled from their driveway, you caught a glance at the back window. There was Ville, holding a piece of paper that in large print stated I'll come back for you.
It had started when you were thirteen, just a young boy, lost and confused. It had started when he had come into your life. With his dark hair and stormy sea-green eyes. You were positive that he wasn't of this earth, that he had to have been some kind of heavenly being. So much stronger than you, taller, older and so much more confident.
You had always wondered how he managed it.
It had started when you were skateboarding, like you usually did on your free days. Just riding through the neighborhood, not a care in the world. You had met him there. And it was a collision. Literally. The two of you had run straight into each other and had lain on the ground laughing, until you both could find a straight face to ask the other if they were okay.
"I'm Ville." He had said, not a trace of shyness in his voice. Somehow, you knew that this was the beginning of something great. You just hadn't caught onto what it was yet.
It had started in your childhood, just two boys, living their lives. From girlfriends, to broken hearts, to exams, to sports, to music, to everything utterly childish. [Your mother always told you that you were immature. But hey, didn't you have a right to be? You were, after all, just a child.]
It had progressed as the years did. Your bond growing closer, and the need for his company becoming stronger. The two of you did everything together, playing off each other and learnining from each other. You taught him the trade of skateboarding, while he attempted to teach you the finer points of roller blading.
Oh the bruises from those adventures.
But he had always been there. Through everything.
It had started when your father had passed. Left with a grieving mother, you were devastated. And on the night that you had received the word, you had crawled out your bedroom window, walked the short block towards his house and snuck through his bedroom window, crawling into bed with him and crying. He had woken immediately. You started to explain yourself, but he had silenced you. He already knew, his mother had told him. You had buried your face into his tshirt and had soaked it with your tears, him never minding at all. He just stroked your hair lightly and left tiny kisses of comfort on the top of your head.
His mother hadn't been angry the next morning. You showed up at the breakfast table with Ville looking sheepish, and she had kissed your forehead and said not to be late to school. Ville had just smiled. The years went by, and this became a regular event. You would show up at his window in the late hours of the night, and he was always awake, always waiting for you, ready to dry your eyes if you so needed it.
It had taken a hard turn when Ville came to you one day and requested for you to come to his room again that night. He would give no reason other than that he wanted to talk. You had been nervous, Ville was a block of ice with everyone except for you. It somewhat bothered you that he had decided not to tell you what he wished to discuss. However, you attempted not to let it worry you. You would find out soon enough.
As two am rolled around that night, you slid slowly out of your bed and tiptoed to your window. It was nights like these that you were oh so thankful that your bedroom was on the first floor, aiding in your escapes. You dashed across your lawn, through the backyards of your neighbors and to the side of Ville's white house. You crawled up to his window, and went to knock, but before you could, there he was, staring at you through the pane of glass. His eyes held sadness as he gazed; that hurt look in his eyes was something you were none yet familiar with.
"You're here." He whispered, almost shocked.
He had pushed the window up and you began to crawl through the window lattice. You two were silent for a few moments, but you had decided to walk past him towards his bed. With your back to Ville, you heard a small thud, which had caused you to turn around. Ville had fallen back against the wall and slid towards the floor. He had looked at you with red rimmed eyes and reached his hand out to you. Immediately, you had been by his side, cradling his body against your own as he let out silent tears.
You had no idea what had caused your friend such anguish, but you knew Ville all too well, and knew that pushing the subject was a bad move. It would only push him away, he would tell you when he wanted to. You rocked him quietly for an hour or so, and eventually, he'd settled down.
"Should've heard him, Bam..." he mumbled.
"Heard who?"
"He said, 'So, son... why aren't you going to prom?'
'Well, dad... they wont let me take the date I want...'
'And why not?'
'It's a guy, dad...'" Ville paused for a moment before continuing.
"He told me that he never should've had a kid." He whispered into the darkness, letting the hurt hang in the air thickly.
After this confession, you sat stunned, unsure of what to do... or say... or hell, even think. Should you have been shocked that he so readily admitted to you that he wasn't as straight as you had originally thought... or should you have been disgusted with how his father had treated him? You knew neither... So you remained quiet.
He leaned away from you, and stared directly at you, his gaze never faltering.
"Do you understand, Bam?"
You nodded dumbly. You didn't know what you were supposed to do. For lack of a better phrase... you were mind fucked. Your brain couldn't comprehend anything at the moment. So... feeling took over.
It was a shock, even to yourself, the one who made the first move. You were stunned at what you had done. But feeling his bottom lip between your own set something off. You didn't know why you did it. You supposed you never would. But as you pushed yourself closer to him and as his hands found your cheeks, you lost all sense of reason. You had grabbed his waist tightly and crushed him closer, dying to feel him, to smell him, to taste him.
You had awoken the next morning with Ville's arms wrapped tightly around your body, and his lips against your ear. And god was it a wonderful way to wake up.
You had showed up again at the breakfast table of Ville's house, and you could see the relief etched onto the older boy's face when he saw that his father had already left for work. You looked on silently as Ville sat at the table and his mother leaned down to his ear and mumbled something quietly to him, too quiet for you to hear.
You had pretended to be uninterested. And you had not asked about it later. But your curiousity had grown, and you could not rid yourself of Ville's face at that moment, as it had held slight confusion and hurt at whatever words his mother had said.
Your pain had started when Ville finally decided to discuss the issue with you. As you two walked along the sidewalk quietly, holding your skateboards at your side, he'd brushed his arm against yours and took your hand, lacing your fingers together. But he'd stopped walking, and apparently so had you. And it was then that he explained what his mother had told him...
He was moving... back to Helsinki.
You could barely push out a "why" but he had heard you, and he softly explained that his father's job had transfered back. That they had to move.
He had hugged you tightly and told you that movers were coming the next day, that he would be gone in less than a week. The day had rolled on, too quickly for your liking, and the morning had come... bringing moving trucks to your best friend's house. You had walked out into the yard while they loaded random items of furniture onto the trucks. You hugged yourself tightly, shivering slightly in the chilly wind and curling your toes at the dew-dropped grass. He had seen you and padded over to you lightly. Greeting you with a quick kiss on the cheek.
He told you he was leaving tomorrow. And you wondered if the two of you would meet again.
As the next morning came about, you awoke in a hurry, desperate to see him one last time before he left you. You had flung your jeans and hoodie on and dashed towards his house, where he was starting towards his parents' car. You had called his name, and he'd looked up at you, smiling, but as he started towards you, his father had grabbed his arm. Holding him back, shaking his head as if to tell Ville "no." You stopped running before you reached their yard, but still, you managed to see the look of hurt on Ville's face, the look of someone who held back tears. He'd slid into the car without another glance towards you, and you frantically ran after them. As they pulled from their driveway, you caught a glance at the back window. There was Ville, holding a piece of paper that in large print stated I'll come back for you.
Days had turned to weeks.
Weeks to months.
Months to years.
And as the years went by, you had grown up [kind of], as you assumed so had Ville. You had met new people, and you had a decent-sized group of whom you considered to be your good friends. You graduated from high school and went on to live on your own. The flat you had chosen was less than 25 minutes away from where you had grown up, but you supposed it didn't matter, considering that you were going to a university near there.
But no matter how much time had gone by, you never could forget him. The image of his car driving away from you was burned into your mind, along with that sign that said he would come back.
...So why hadn't he?
Surely he was on his own now... Why hadn't he come back?
Had he abandoned you?
Left you here to wait and rot?
You didn't know. Nor would you ever know.
He had left, promised to return, and never did. That was that. There was no changing a thing, and you knew it. The hope he'd given you as he'd left dwindled after a year's time, until there was no hope left in you. What once was hope, had become disappointment.
But you supposed that it was alright.
But still, you couldn't help but wish. And someties you would pull out the only picture of him you had, trace the contours of his face, and tell yourself that maybe tomorrow he'd call, saying that he'd found you. But every morning, you had to let yourself down. Waking up to an empty house, a phone with no missed calls, and a heart that ached so badly you wanted to scream.
Before you knew it, you were out of the university, with a degree in graphic design. You had a friend, Johnny, who proposed the idea of a [stupid] stunt he wanted to pull. From that first incident, it had snowballed until you were all recognized by MTV and signed up as official Jackasses. The severe pain really was worth all the fun. Coming up with and enacting new stunts became the only thing to keep your mind off Ville. Maybe it wasn't healthy to be demolishing yourself on a daily basis, but hey, you figured it didn't matter since you were getting paid a hefty sum to do it.
Filming occasionally ran late in the evening, and a lot of times you returned home with aching bones and muscles, only to be greeted by your empty house which would usually bring about an aching heart. You had arrived home one night, after another normal stunt-session and dropped your keys on the table and shook out your rain soaked hair.
This just. hadn't been your night. Every idea you'd had was either turned down, or simply wasn't feasible without a huge amount of body damage [Jackass was all about body damage, but certainly not about comas.] You'd screwed up every line you were supposed to give, even missed several, and you'd even been stuck in a trailer with a fucking King Cobra earlier in the day. What was worse is that as you all had been combining clips for a new episode, a storm had knocked out power at Knoxville's place, so the night ended earlier than it needed to have ended. And upon reaching your home, you realized as you flicked the light switch that you too had lost power.
You had wondered through the dark, towards your living room, muttering random obscenities under your breath as you did so. You had sat in the dark on your old leather couch and stared out the window, fuming. An hour passed and the presence of a dark car in your drive way caught your attention. You thought to yourself Fuck... You weren't in the mood to deal with people.
You had watched as a figure had gotten out and dashed through the pouring rain towards your door. You heard the knocking and forced yourself up, unlocking the door and opening it, not expecting what was standing there before you.
A dark haired boy man stood before you, rain dripping from his face, his green eyes shining. He smiled a tiny smile, and you gaped, unable to make a single noise.
"I told you I would come back..." he said.
[fin]
I hope you guys enjoyed this.
Please, please, review.
I didn't write this for no feedback.
- Pandora.