Far Side of the Sun - NOW COMPLETE
Far Side of the Sun
Chapter Seven -FINAL!
Author: RiaStarStruck
Rating: R
Pairing: VAM
Disclaimer: I own nothing and no one ...except my slave, say hello slave.
Summary: Ville was hiding within the safe confines of a hotel room wasn’t paying for and his world was consumed by the album. Bam was trying to find the friendship they used to have, that spark that was so absent from their friendship now. and maybe more?
This is the story of Bam’s visit to LA during the recording of Screamworks.
Authors Note: Firstly, thanks so much to Bluespire for being my Beta!
As this is the final chapter, I want to thank all those that reviewed the previous chapters. Its taken me bloody ages to get this done, its rather exciting to post the final chapter.
I hope you enjoy it, tell me what you think!
And so you all know, i am now on twitter! as of.. about five seconds ago... i'm under the same name (riastarstruck) check me out!
Chapter One, Chapter Two, Chapter Three, Chapter Four, Chapter Five, Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
There was a flash of magenta paint across Ville's cheek that matched the one in Kat's hair. It was cool and slick and made his skin itch when it started to dry, flaking off around the edges when he laughed with his head thrown back as his wet hand slipped on Bam's cheek, bumping into his nose and painting him blue.
A weight seized Ville from the side and they fell with a shriek from Kat onto the bed and Novak's legs. The bed quaked violently as another body joined the fray. A hand ran down Ville's chest leaving his top streaked with yellow. He laughed again when he heard Kat's indignant shout, looking in time to see a hand smear green across her throat and into her curls.
There was more paint on them than on the canvasses Kat had brought. The cheap tubes of paint were scattered around the room piling up on every available surface, filthy with multi-coloured handprints like some rainbow crime scene.
With the bed rocking beneath Ville as the war went on, his lungs felt tight from laughter and his cheeks ached from smiling. As he closed his eyes and listened to the laughter intermingled with shouts and the sharp smell of paint, he realised he didn’t associate that sound with this room. It surprised him to realise that nobody but Bam ever came here. It was his hidden place against the world, just him and his loneliness. Ville's own ghosting around hardly left any impression upon the room, nothing that the procession of faceless maids which passed through couldn’t clean up, leaving it spotless again.
But this laughter, which filled the room before plummeting over the edge of the balcony and disappearing into the day and the noise of LA, the laughter which was bright like the paint which dried in flaky crusts against their skin had never happened here, until now it had no place. This bed hadn't experienced a wrestling match, no pointless jostling or playful punches. It had existed simply for him to lie on in the night as he willed the dark hours away, until the next day, in a long tradition of days, weeks and months. He realised that this was what his life was missing, not the dark corners of a pub, not the sticky tang of liquor in the back of his throat and the sway and blur of a drunken mind, or even the mad fumbling of two idiots too inebriated to do anything more than touch and kiss. It was this laughter and human contact which he was doing without, from which he had locked himself away, the overwhelming press of human forms. It was the smear of colour, stupidly vivid against the dark they all cherished, something so basically human, about which he didn't know the first thing. For all his pretty words and deep insights into the workings of a heart, he didn't understand some of the most basic, simple human things. It had always been so much easier to use alcohol to fill in the blanks.
Bam’s chest was slick under his thumb. When he spread green across his skin, his finger jumped with Bam’s laughter and he slipped, catching against his belly button. Ville felt the retaliating hand slip across his throat. He ran his fingers through the wet paint before raising it to his face, laughing at the lemon yellow.
The crimson in Kat’s hair was joined by a blob of orange and a splatter of green across her nose as she reached for her ringing phone, laughing into the mouthpiece as she answered. She flicked her hair over her shoulder, staring down at her hand in horror when it came back orange-red-green. She glared playfully at the three of them tangled on the bed, nodded, and checked the time on the display before speaking again. With a defiant click of her tongue she hung up. Settling her hands on her hips, she looked down at them from the foot of the bed.
“Nudie you coming with me? I have to be in the shop in an hour.”
Novak grumbled as he rolled out from beneath them, pulling on his pants as he looked at the paintings which rested around the room. He laughed at each, nodding his approval.
“You keeping these Bam?”
Bam stretched out next to Ville. “'Course. They’re going on a wall.”
Novak smiled as he pulled his top over his head, by far the most normal coloured of all of them.
They both waved from the bed as their friends left, loud voices trailing down the corridor. In the warm quiet that settled, Ville felt himself nodding off in the heat of the room as the buzz of the afternoon settled like a blanket across his skin.
~*~
The room had become silent as the heat settled in the stillness of the room growing thick and heavy as the time dragged on. The sound of Ville’s deep, sleep measured breaths filled the space as Bam watched the golden light play across Ville's features, catching in the dark curls and shadowed eyes. Ville’s side was a warm strip against Bam’s body where he lay propped up beside his friend. Running a finger down the arch of his nose Bam smiled when Ville twitched away. Bam’s finger traced the edge of a line of paint scratching gently where it flaked under his finger. Ville shifted again and Bam withdrew his hand but stayed propped up on his side.
Ville woke with a flutter of lashes and a growl in his chest. He turned his head and didn't look very surprised to meet Bam's warm gaze.
“It looks like a rainbow took a crap on you.” Bam’s breath barely broke the stillness when he spoke, his voice absent sounding as he let himself be transfixed by how the golden light played with Ville's lashes and the dark smudge under his eyes.
“Like you can talk, Bravehart.” Ville's voice was husky from disuse. A broad hand came up to trace along the blue smear of Bam's cheek.
Bam grinned and felt the paint on his cheek pull his skin tight and start to crack. The moment was tense and quiet, Ville’s hand rested warm and dry against his face. Bam couldn’t say who leant close first. All he knew was the gentle huff of breath which ghosted across his skin before press of soft lips against his own.
Bam allowed himself to drown in the soft closeness of their first sober kiss. The room was warm and Ville’s breath smelt like old cigarettes, coffee and paint. One kiss shifted into another, more needy this time, as though they could take the essence of the other into themselves. Bam shuddered against Ville’s lips, his own trembling embarrassingly as he let his hands begin to wander, first cupping the broad jaw beneath him, then shifting down to trace the lines of his throat and the flat expanse of his chest.
With a jerk Ville pulled away from the kiss, leaving Bam feeling lost and heavy-headed. Ville rolled out from under him and despite the near oppressive heat of the room, Bam shivered at the loss of his wiry warmth.
"You can't get back at Missy with me." Ville’s voice was rough and low, sounding strained as it hung between them. Bam frowned down at the bed sheets where Ville had lain a moment earlier, warm and pliant underneath his hands.
"She just takes what she wants, why can't I?" And he did want, fuck did he want. He clenched his fists to his side as though he could trap Ville’s residual warmth if he held on tight enough. Ville was looking at him sadly, sighing as he stood up.
"You always take what you want Bam, and then when you get bored of it or it changes, you get a newer model."
Bam felt irritation spark though him and he glared down at the covers before flicking an annoyed glance at Ville. "Is this about Jussi again? Because I don't want him, I never have."
Bam had made quick friends with Jussi when they had first met. Jussi had always pushed close when they were out together, lithe body bouncing and pressing tight to Bam’s side as he swayed, seeking contact, talking and moving like he was a little kid on sugar. Bam could appreciate that, he liked it even, liked having another person around as energetic and as alive as he was.
Jussi had never shied away from touch, never moved away when Bam moved close. His long angular face grinned and his thin lips pursed together as though he couldn’t decide between a smirk and a smile. To Bam, Jussi was everything Bam used to be. He was a reminder of all that this life had drained him of but he was never anything more than that. Bam had never wanted anything more from him. He just wished Ville would understand that, that he'd fucking trust him.
"All I've ever wanted is you.” Bam tried to ignore how pathetic that sounded. “But I’m a dumbshit and only ever ask for it when I'm drunk." His voice was tight in his throat and he felt every muscle in his body screaming at him to run from this situation, it was too personal, too real.
Ville heaved an almost silent sigh and moved in long strides across the room, closing the bathroom door with a decisive click.
Bam bit his lip, rolling his eyes in frustration, feeling the prickle of humiliated tears behind his eyes as he fumbled off the bed, sparing the rumpled covers an angry punch as he pushed himself up. He tripped over the covers and kicked the bed fiercely when it finally freed him.
“So that’s a no then?” he shouted at the bathroom door. He heard the water turn on and tugged on his hair in frustration. “Fuck it.” He hissed as he grabbed his wallet and phone making sure to slam the door loudly on his way out.
~*~
Ville felt something refreshingly like rage race through him when he saw Bam enter the studio the next day. He felt it simmer inside him as Bam laughed with the band and talked technical with their producer, all the time choosing to ignore Ville like a petty teenage girl giving him the cold shoulder.
He felt it simmer in the early afternoon, the confines of the studio becoming oppressive when Bam laughed loudly, running his fingers through his messy hair and announcing to Mige that he was flying home to West Chester tonight before heading to Finland the following day.
"Jussi is planning on getting us shit-faced. Dunn's gonna go fucking mental, that much booze with Jussi and a freaking sex festival!" Bam laughed along with Mige though it sounded sharp and grating to Ville.
With a half formed snarl he’d deny later, Ville stalked across the room and slammed the door childishly, enjoying the reverberations which shivered from his fingertips to his heart as he made his way downstairs and out the security door. He breathed a sigh of relief when he felt his feet make sharp contact with the sun warmed car park. It smelt like ash, heat and sweat. He closed his eyes and felt the warmth caress his face like a hot press.
He didn't know how long he stood like that, letting the warmth seep down to his bones, his thoughts drowned out by the endless purr of the traffic from the far side of the parking lot.
"I can hang out with a guy without wanting to fuck them, it’s pretty easy actually. There's only ever been one exception." The door swung shut and there was the crunch of shoes on gravel. Bam cleared his throat and Ville glimpsed him tugging his hair in frustration. "You're being stupid," he muttered and Ville’s eyebrows rose. “You’re so fucking insecure about yourself, you can’t just fucking accept that I want you, no strings attached.”
Ville glared down at the ground. “Far as I know, you’re still wearing a wedding ring.” They settled into silence for a moment. “You’re leaving tonight?” He saw Bam’s rings flash in the sun as he rubbed his face, he let out a sigh and nodded.
“Yeah, back to the real world.”
Ville shifted to look at him. “Fairly sure this is the real world.”
Bam shot him a heavy look before glancing down. “It’s not for me.” There was the rustle of clothing as Bam shifted at his side and his breaths seemed amplified to Ville despite the chaos of noise that was LA in midafternoon. Ville saw Bam clench his jaw before turning his focus back on the parked cars in front of him. Bam exhaled loudly before speaking again.
“You can’t turn me down and then have a say in who I can screw.” Bam’s quite statement broke through the sounds of traffic and Ville’s head whipped around to look at him, startled.
“I’m in your skin!” Ville shot a meaningful glance down at Bam’s exposed arms, his gaze trailing over the dark lines of his own face. “Excuse me for being curious who you replace me with.” He refused to acknowledge the blush he felt creeping across his cheeks.
“How could I replace you? As a best friend, as a dude crush, an idol…” Bam crossed his arms over his chest defensively. “I fucking worship you, if you want something it’s yours.” His voice was snarky and mean though Ville was all too aware of the insecurity shining though.
“I don’t want you to worship me, I just want you. Happy you,” Ville conceded, biting his lips as he swallowed around the lump in his throat. “Bam people are getting worried about you, they say shit about your drinking and your partying. For fucks sake Bam, your wife and your mum have both called me to see if you’re still alive.” He hugged himself close, not wanting to see Bam’s face. “You’ve been clean and sober around me Bam but the things they have said? Shit Bam, even I knew when to calm the fuck down.”
When it came, Bam’s voice had an air of forced nonchalance to it. “They’re just sick of me mucking around, they want me to grow up.”
“That’s not what I’ve heard. They’re scared you’re gonna kill yourself.” Bam was staring at him steadily, a curious wide-eyed look on his face which Ville couldn’t place.
“Are you?”
Ville sighed, thinking back to how reluctant he was to listen to what anyone had to say about his own reckless behaviour. “Would it make a difference?” his voice came out resigned and tired sounding, and in that second he felt it all again, the overwhelming fatigue which had plagued him before Bam had arrived to shake up his world again.
“No.” Bam snapped, sounding annoyed as he averted his gaze from Ville. Ville watched as Bam’s entire body seemed to crumple in on itself. “Fuck, why does everything have to be so complicated? I feel like I’m living a freaking soap opera.”
Ville felt a laugh escape him, ripped from his chest and out of his mouth. Bam smiled fondly at him.
"Pool boy who made it big?” Ville chuckled.
Bam smirked, wiggling his eyebrows. “I could totally be a hot pool boy.”
They shared a smile and Ville raised an eyebrow letting his eyes trail heavily down Bam’s body. “Might have to work on getting that six pack back.”
Bam’s eyes widened in outrage and he reached out, landing a clumsy, half-hearted punch against Ville’s arm. “Fuck you, at least I don’t look like a skeleton.”
Ville resisted the urge to poke out his tongue, even as he smiled at the bubble of childlike joy that built inside him, something Bam had always managed to evoke in him. They sunk into companionable silence, letting all the things they should be saying hover between them.
Bam finally broke the stillness, running a hand roughly across his face, fingering the hair on his chin absently as he watched the glare of lights on the moving cars which passed by at the far edge of the parking lot. “I don’t just want you when I’m drunk. I just, I can’t ask for it when I’m sober.”
Ville knew there were a lot of things Bam couldn’t say when he was sober. He had the same problem himself. He knew how easy everything could be when alcohol loosened his tongue. "I want more than memories of a couple of drunk fumbles."
Ville jerked back to look at him, surprised.
Bam rolled his eyes and ground his teeth in annoyance. "Of course I remember."
The tension seemed to buzz between them and Ville felt the need to state his position, though it hurt to admit it. "You're married Bam."
"I'm not sure that's gonna last. I never was."
It was a sad thing to hear, that something which traditionally happened once in a lifetime between two soul mates could just happen because it seemed like the thing to do at the time.
Bam sighed, glancing at his phone to check the time, before he met Ville’s gaze. His blue eyes were intense and desperate looking. “I’ll call you when I,” he trailed off, his eyes seeming lost and frantic. “You can tell me how you’re going at quitting smoking." Bam’s smile looked wobbly and unstable.
Ville smiled sadly back; then bit his lips when Bam’s gaze shifted to them. “I’d better go finish packing.”
Ville nodded and Bam returned it absently, lost in thought as he turned stiffly. Ville caught his hand before he could move a step away. Bam looked down at their clasped hands, two broad, calloused hands joined in the glare of the sun.
“When it stops being fun is usually a good sign it’s time to stop.” He offered Bam the only thing he could, something that had taken him years to learn. Bam looked at him for a tense moment before Ville leant forward and placed a gentle, chaste kiss against Bam’s lips.
Bam nodded again to Ville as he shifted away, Ville’s hand falling from his grasp to swing uselessly to his side. Ville breathed deep, tasting heat and pollution tang across his tongue. He didn’t watch Bam walk away; he didn’t think he could handle it.
They’d see each other again, more than before the recording of Screamworks and the tense months that preceded it. Things had eased between them. Though they still had their issues that they needed to work through, both together and apart, there was a knot which had untied, and with it, tension they had learned to live with over the years had eased as well.
Ville headed back into the studio, letting the door close the rest of the world out before he moved forward to listen to what they had so far, he felt the words trail through him, echoing in his mind, a flip book of moments and images only he would ever know as the melodies tingled across his skin. There were sections of lyrics which stood out to him with hidden meanings he had worked into the lyrics on an almost subconscious level. He wondered if Bam would ever notice the hundred things between them, sung out to the world in Ville’s own trembling baritone.
His heart ached a little as he moved away from the mixing desk towards the table, full of scraps of lyrics that hadn’t made it into the other songs so far. He traced his fingers across the edges of the paper, his eyes catching on one word in particular Heartkiller and it was like he could see the words forming in the air before him, he could almost hear the phantom tune he would nurture and develop until it grew into something more. He grabbed a pen and pulled a clean piece of paper towards him and began.
The End
A/N By the way, I think “Dude Crush” is one of my new favourite things to say, ever.
so that’s the end. Finish. Gone. Sad? Drop me a comment!
Chapter Seven -FINAL!
Author: RiaStarStruck
Rating: R
Pairing: VAM
Disclaimer: I own nothing and no one ...except my slave, say hello slave.
Summary: Ville was hiding within the safe confines of a hotel room wasn’t paying for and his world was consumed by the album. Bam was trying to find the friendship they used to have, that spark that was so absent from their friendship now. and maybe more?
This is the story of Bam’s visit to LA during the recording of Screamworks.
Authors Note: Firstly, thanks so much to Bluespire for being my Beta!
As this is the final chapter, I want to thank all those that reviewed the previous chapters. Its taken me bloody ages to get this done, its rather exciting to post the final chapter.
I hope you enjoy it, tell me what you think!
And so you all know, i am now on twitter! as of.. about five seconds ago... i'm under the same name (riastarstruck) check me out!
Chapter One, Chapter Two, Chapter Three, Chapter Four, Chapter Five, Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
There was a flash of magenta paint across Ville's cheek that matched the one in Kat's hair. It was cool and slick and made his skin itch when it started to dry, flaking off around the edges when he laughed with his head thrown back as his wet hand slipped on Bam's cheek, bumping into his nose and painting him blue.
A weight seized Ville from the side and they fell with a shriek from Kat onto the bed and Novak's legs. The bed quaked violently as another body joined the fray. A hand ran down Ville's chest leaving his top streaked with yellow. He laughed again when he heard Kat's indignant shout, looking in time to see a hand smear green across her throat and into her curls.
There was more paint on them than on the canvasses Kat had brought. The cheap tubes of paint were scattered around the room piling up on every available surface, filthy with multi-coloured handprints like some rainbow crime scene.
With the bed rocking beneath Ville as the war went on, his lungs felt tight from laughter and his cheeks ached from smiling. As he closed his eyes and listened to the laughter intermingled with shouts and the sharp smell of paint, he realised he didn’t associate that sound with this room. It surprised him to realise that nobody but Bam ever came here. It was his hidden place against the world, just him and his loneliness. Ville's own ghosting around hardly left any impression upon the room, nothing that the procession of faceless maids which passed through couldn’t clean up, leaving it spotless again.
But this laughter, which filled the room before plummeting over the edge of the balcony and disappearing into the day and the noise of LA, the laughter which was bright like the paint which dried in flaky crusts against their skin had never happened here, until now it had no place. This bed hadn't experienced a wrestling match, no pointless jostling or playful punches. It had existed simply for him to lie on in the night as he willed the dark hours away, until the next day, in a long tradition of days, weeks and months. He realised that this was what his life was missing, not the dark corners of a pub, not the sticky tang of liquor in the back of his throat and the sway and blur of a drunken mind, or even the mad fumbling of two idiots too inebriated to do anything more than touch and kiss. It was this laughter and human contact which he was doing without, from which he had locked himself away, the overwhelming press of human forms. It was the smear of colour, stupidly vivid against the dark they all cherished, something so basically human, about which he didn't know the first thing. For all his pretty words and deep insights into the workings of a heart, he didn't understand some of the most basic, simple human things. It had always been so much easier to use alcohol to fill in the blanks.
Bam’s chest was slick under his thumb. When he spread green across his skin, his finger jumped with Bam’s laughter and he slipped, catching against his belly button. Ville felt the retaliating hand slip across his throat. He ran his fingers through the wet paint before raising it to his face, laughing at the lemon yellow.
The crimson in Kat’s hair was joined by a blob of orange and a splatter of green across her nose as she reached for her ringing phone, laughing into the mouthpiece as she answered. She flicked her hair over her shoulder, staring down at her hand in horror when it came back orange-red-green. She glared playfully at the three of them tangled on the bed, nodded, and checked the time on the display before speaking again. With a defiant click of her tongue she hung up. Settling her hands on her hips, she looked down at them from the foot of the bed.
“Nudie you coming with me? I have to be in the shop in an hour.”
Novak grumbled as he rolled out from beneath them, pulling on his pants as he looked at the paintings which rested around the room. He laughed at each, nodding his approval.
“You keeping these Bam?”
Bam stretched out next to Ville. “'Course. They’re going on a wall.”
Novak smiled as he pulled his top over his head, by far the most normal coloured of all of them.
They both waved from the bed as their friends left, loud voices trailing down the corridor. In the warm quiet that settled, Ville felt himself nodding off in the heat of the room as the buzz of the afternoon settled like a blanket across his skin.
~*~
The room had become silent as the heat settled in the stillness of the room growing thick and heavy as the time dragged on. The sound of Ville’s deep, sleep measured breaths filled the space as Bam watched the golden light play across Ville's features, catching in the dark curls and shadowed eyes. Ville’s side was a warm strip against Bam’s body where he lay propped up beside his friend. Running a finger down the arch of his nose Bam smiled when Ville twitched away. Bam’s finger traced the edge of a line of paint scratching gently where it flaked under his finger. Ville shifted again and Bam withdrew his hand but stayed propped up on his side.
Ville woke with a flutter of lashes and a growl in his chest. He turned his head and didn't look very surprised to meet Bam's warm gaze.
“It looks like a rainbow took a crap on you.” Bam’s breath barely broke the stillness when he spoke, his voice absent sounding as he let himself be transfixed by how the golden light played with Ville's lashes and the dark smudge under his eyes.
“Like you can talk, Bravehart.” Ville's voice was husky from disuse. A broad hand came up to trace along the blue smear of Bam's cheek.
Bam grinned and felt the paint on his cheek pull his skin tight and start to crack. The moment was tense and quiet, Ville’s hand rested warm and dry against his face. Bam couldn’t say who leant close first. All he knew was the gentle huff of breath which ghosted across his skin before press of soft lips against his own.
Bam allowed himself to drown in the soft closeness of their first sober kiss. The room was warm and Ville’s breath smelt like old cigarettes, coffee and paint. One kiss shifted into another, more needy this time, as though they could take the essence of the other into themselves. Bam shuddered against Ville’s lips, his own trembling embarrassingly as he let his hands begin to wander, first cupping the broad jaw beneath him, then shifting down to trace the lines of his throat and the flat expanse of his chest.
With a jerk Ville pulled away from the kiss, leaving Bam feeling lost and heavy-headed. Ville rolled out from under him and despite the near oppressive heat of the room, Bam shivered at the loss of his wiry warmth.
"You can't get back at Missy with me." Ville’s voice was rough and low, sounding strained as it hung between them. Bam frowned down at the bed sheets where Ville had lain a moment earlier, warm and pliant underneath his hands.
"She just takes what she wants, why can't I?" And he did want, fuck did he want. He clenched his fists to his side as though he could trap Ville’s residual warmth if he held on tight enough. Ville was looking at him sadly, sighing as he stood up.
"You always take what you want Bam, and then when you get bored of it or it changes, you get a newer model."
Bam felt irritation spark though him and he glared down at the covers before flicking an annoyed glance at Ville. "Is this about Jussi again? Because I don't want him, I never have."
Bam had made quick friends with Jussi when they had first met. Jussi had always pushed close when they were out together, lithe body bouncing and pressing tight to Bam’s side as he swayed, seeking contact, talking and moving like he was a little kid on sugar. Bam could appreciate that, he liked it even, liked having another person around as energetic and as alive as he was.
Jussi had never shied away from touch, never moved away when Bam moved close. His long angular face grinned and his thin lips pursed together as though he couldn’t decide between a smirk and a smile. To Bam, Jussi was everything Bam used to be. He was a reminder of all that this life had drained him of but he was never anything more than that. Bam had never wanted anything more from him. He just wished Ville would understand that, that he'd fucking trust him.
"All I've ever wanted is you.” Bam tried to ignore how pathetic that sounded. “But I’m a dumbshit and only ever ask for it when I'm drunk." His voice was tight in his throat and he felt every muscle in his body screaming at him to run from this situation, it was too personal, too real.
Ville heaved an almost silent sigh and moved in long strides across the room, closing the bathroom door with a decisive click.
Bam bit his lip, rolling his eyes in frustration, feeling the prickle of humiliated tears behind his eyes as he fumbled off the bed, sparing the rumpled covers an angry punch as he pushed himself up. He tripped over the covers and kicked the bed fiercely when it finally freed him.
“So that’s a no then?” he shouted at the bathroom door. He heard the water turn on and tugged on his hair in frustration. “Fuck it.” He hissed as he grabbed his wallet and phone making sure to slam the door loudly on his way out.
~*~
Ville felt something refreshingly like rage race through him when he saw Bam enter the studio the next day. He felt it simmer inside him as Bam laughed with the band and talked technical with their producer, all the time choosing to ignore Ville like a petty teenage girl giving him the cold shoulder.
He felt it simmer in the early afternoon, the confines of the studio becoming oppressive when Bam laughed loudly, running his fingers through his messy hair and announcing to Mige that he was flying home to West Chester tonight before heading to Finland the following day.
"Jussi is planning on getting us shit-faced. Dunn's gonna go fucking mental, that much booze with Jussi and a freaking sex festival!" Bam laughed along with Mige though it sounded sharp and grating to Ville.
With a half formed snarl he’d deny later, Ville stalked across the room and slammed the door childishly, enjoying the reverberations which shivered from his fingertips to his heart as he made his way downstairs and out the security door. He breathed a sigh of relief when he felt his feet make sharp contact with the sun warmed car park. It smelt like ash, heat and sweat. He closed his eyes and felt the warmth caress his face like a hot press.
He didn't know how long he stood like that, letting the warmth seep down to his bones, his thoughts drowned out by the endless purr of the traffic from the far side of the parking lot.
"I can hang out with a guy without wanting to fuck them, it’s pretty easy actually. There's only ever been one exception." The door swung shut and there was the crunch of shoes on gravel. Bam cleared his throat and Ville glimpsed him tugging his hair in frustration. "You're being stupid," he muttered and Ville’s eyebrows rose. “You’re so fucking insecure about yourself, you can’t just fucking accept that I want you, no strings attached.”
Ville glared down at the ground. “Far as I know, you’re still wearing a wedding ring.” They settled into silence for a moment. “You’re leaving tonight?” He saw Bam’s rings flash in the sun as he rubbed his face, he let out a sigh and nodded.
“Yeah, back to the real world.”
Ville shifted to look at him. “Fairly sure this is the real world.”
Bam shot him a heavy look before glancing down. “It’s not for me.” There was the rustle of clothing as Bam shifted at his side and his breaths seemed amplified to Ville despite the chaos of noise that was LA in midafternoon. Ville saw Bam clench his jaw before turning his focus back on the parked cars in front of him. Bam exhaled loudly before speaking again.
“You can’t turn me down and then have a say in who I can screw.” Bam’s quite statement broke through the sounds of traffic and Ville’s head whipped around to look at him, startled.
“I’m in your skin!” Ville shot a meaningful glance down at Bam’s exposed arms, his gaze trailing over the dark lines of his own face. “Excuse me for being curious who you replace me with.” He refused to acknowledge the blush he felt creeping across his cheeks.
“How could I replace you? As a best friend, as a dude crush, an idol…” Bam crossed his arms over his chest defensively. “I fucking worship you, if you want something it’s yours.” His voice was snarky and mean though Ville was all too aware of the insecurity shining though.
“I don’t want you to worship me, I just want you. Happy you,” Ville conceded, biting his lips as he swallowed around the lump in his throat. “Bam people are getting worried about you, they say shit about your drinking and your partying. For fucks sake Bam, your wife and your mum have both called me to see if you’re still alive.” He hugged himself close, not wanting to see Bam’s face. “You’ve been clean and sober around me Bam but the things they have said? Shit Bam, even I knew when to calm the fuck down.”
When it came, Bam’s voice had an air of forced nonchalance to it. “They’re just sick of me mucking around, they want me to grow up.”
“That’s not what I’ve heard. They’re scared you’re gonna kill yourself.” Bam was staring at him steadily, a curious wide-eyed look on his face which Ville couldn’t place.
“Are you?”
Ville sighed, thinking back to how reluctant he was to listen to what anyone had to say about his own reckless behaviour. “Would it make a difference?” his voice came out resigned and tired sounding, and in that second he felt it all again, the overwhelming fatigue which had plagued him before Bam had arrived to shake up his world again.
“No.” Bam snapped, sounding annoyed as he averted his gaze from Ville. Ville watched as Bam’s entire body seemed to crumple in on itself. “Fuck, why does everything have to be so complicated? I feel like I’m living a freaking soap opera.”
Ville felt a laugh escape him, ripped from his chest and out of his mouth. Bam smiled fondly at him.
"Pool boy who made it big?” Ville chuckled.
Bam smirked, wiggling his eyebrows. “I could totally be a hot pool boy.”
They shared a smile and Ville raised an eyebrow letting his eyes trail heavily down Bam’s body. “Might have to work on getting that six pack back.”
Bam’s eyes widened in outrage and he reached out, landing a clumsy, half-hearted punch against Ville’s arm. “Fuck you, at least I don’t look like a skeleton.”
Ville resisted the urge to poke out his tongue, even as he smiled at the bubble of childlike joy that built inside him, something Bam had always managed to evoke in him. They sunk into companionable silence, letting all the things they should be saying hover between them.
Bam finally broke the stillness, running a hand roughly across his face, fingering the hair on his chin absently as he watched the glare of lights on the moving cars which passed by at the far edge of the parking lot. “I don’t just want you when I’m drunk. I just, I can’t ask for it when I’m sober.”
Ville knew there were a lot of things Bam couldn’t say when he was sober. He had the same problem himself. He knew how easy everything could be when alcohol loosened his tongue. "I want more than memories of a couple of drunk fumbles."
Ville jerked back to look at him, surprised.
Bam rolled his eyes and ground his teeth in annoyance. "Of course I remember."
The tension seemed to buzz between them and Ville felt the need to state his position, though it hurt to admit it. "You're married Bam."
"I'm not sure that's gonna last. I never was."
It was a sad thing to hear, that something which traditionally happened once in a lifetime between two soul mates could just happen because it seemed like the thing to do at the time.
Bam sighed, glancing at his phone to check the time, before he met Ville’s gaze. His blue eyes were intense and desperate looking. “I’ll call you when I,” he trailed off, his eyes seeming lost and frantic. “You can tell me how you’re going at quitting smoking." Bam’s smile looked wobbly and unstable.
Ville smiled sadly back; then bit his lips when Bam’s gaze shifted to them. “I’d better go finish packing.”
Ville nodded and Bam returned it absently, lost in thought as he turned stiffly. Ville caught his hand before he could move a step away. Bam looked down at their clasped hands, two broad, calloused hands joined in the glare of the sun.
“When it stops being fun is usually a good sign it’s time to stop.” He offered Bam the only thing he could, something that had taken him years to learn. Bam looked at him for a tense moment before Ville leant forward and placed a gentle, chaste kiss against Bam’s lips.
Bam nodded again to Ville as he shifted away, Ville’s hand falling from his grasp to swing uselessly to his side. Ville breathed deep, tasting heat and pollution tang across his tongue. He didn’t watch Bam walk away; he didn’t think he could handle it.
They’d see each other again, more than before the recording of Screamworks and the tense months that preceded it. Things had eased between them. Though they still had their issues that they needed to work through, both together and apart, there was a knot which had untied, and with it, tension they had learned to live with over the years had eased as well.
Ville headed back into the studio, letting the door close the rest of the world out before he moved forward to listen to what they had so far, he felt the words trail through him, echoing in his mind, a flip book of moments and images only he would ever know as the melodies tingled across his skin. There were sections of lyrics which stood out to him with hidden meanings he had worked into the lyrics on an almost subconscious level. He wondered if Bam would ever notice the hundred things between them, sung out to the world in Ville’s own trembling baritone.
His heart ached a little as he moved away from the mixing desk towards the table, full of scraps of lyrics that hadn’t made it into the other songs so far. He traced his fingers across the edges of the paper, his eyes catching on one word in particular Heartkiller and it was like he could see the words forming in the air before him, he could almost hear the phantom tune he would nurture and develop until it grew into something more. He grabbed a pen and pulled a clean piece of paper towards him and began.
The End
A/N By the way, I think “Dude Crush” is one of my new favourite things to say, ever.
so that’s the end. Finish. Gone. Sad? Drop me a comment!