Close Yet Far: Prologue
Title: Close Yet Far.
Author: the_heartless69
Pairing: Vam
Rating: PG-13 for now, but that will change.. If you get my drift. Some swearing in this chapter.
Summary: Kinda AU. Ville and Bam have barely known each other for six months, but they are already the best of friends. What could possibly come between them as they explore their relationship and discover new feelings and emotions? God awful summary, I know.
Word count: 1307
Disclaimer: I don't know or own anyone mentioned in this fic, I also don't own the title. It's kidnapped from the song Close Yet Far - CKY.
Authors Notes: Intro for my first chaptered Vam fic; please be nice. Constructive criticism is always appreciated. Currently in search of a Beta (I'm too nervous to approach anyone) so, if anyone's interested.. Hit me up.
A/N 2: I am well aware that Bam wasn’t living in "Castle Bam" during the Deep Shadows & Brilliant Highlights era/2001-ish, but as I already mentioned, this fic is partly AU; Bam’s house, when he and Jenn broke up and what not. If it doesn’t fit in with what happened in real life, it was probably intentional to make the story work. Poetic license, Peeps.
By the way, Ville won't always be this annoying/sick/adorably manipulative XD
Close Yet Far - Prologue
Ding, ding.
Bam sighed and pushed the office chair away from his desk after closing a tab on his web browser.
Ding, ding.
“I’m coming, Ville. Fuck!” Bam called out.
Ding, ding, ding, ding, ding.
“Fucking goddamn tinkle bell,” Bam mumbled, glaring at the floor as he trudged upstairs to the guest room of his house.
He was beyond pissed off. Every time he settled in front of his desk to get stuck into some editing (or in this case, buying more HIM merchandise), that fucking bell would start tinkling again. He was two dings away from throwing the thing into the woods behind his house.
As soon as he opened the bedroom door, however, and looked upon the miserable face of his best friend, all of his anger flew out the window. The poor man looked pitiful; his eyes were puffy and blood-shot, his nose was bright red, and his shoulder length hair was standing up in every direction.
It wasn’t until Bam sat down on the edge of the bed that he noticed the steady stream of tears rolling down the other man’s face.
“Fuck, Ville, what’s the matter?”
“Baaaaammiiiiiie,” Ville whined, sniffling.
“What is it?”
“Bammie, you shouted at me.” The singer pouted as even more tears rolled down his cheeks to land on the top of the duvet.
Bam sighed, slightly irritated. God, this man is annoying as fuck when he’s sick. “I didn’t shout at you, Ville. I was just letting you know that I was on my way up so you would stop rattling that bell.”
“Bam, you shouted!” Ville wailed, “I just wanted a tissue.”
Bam sighed again, patting the older man’s shoulder. “I’m sorry, Ville. I didn’t mean to shout.”
“Yes you did, you hate me!” Ville’s tears had finally ceased, the corners of his mouth turning up into a tiny smile, but he continued to sniffle and pout in a wasted attempt at getting Bam to feel bad for him and stay to keep him company.
“Ville, I don’t hate you, calm down. Now, where did you put your tissues?”
“I threw the box at your spawn-of-the-devil cat and he tore it up.”
“Ville!” Bam gasped, shocked. “Why would you do that?”
“He kept walking on me and trying to stick his tail up my nose! It made me sneeze,” his eyes narrowed, glaring at the cat curled up at the end of the bed surrounded by ripped pieces of tissue.
“Still, you didn’t need to throw things at him.”
“I’m sorry, Bam-Bam,” Ville muttered, before his nose practically exploded with sneezes.
“I’ll be right back, Ville.”
“Wait! Where are you going?” Ville demanded.
“To get another box of tissues?” he replied, raising an eyebrow.
“And my cigarettes?”
“No fucking way, dude. Not ‘til you get better.” Bam bolted out of the room as Ville sent an encyclopaedia-sized book flying towards Bam’s head, laughing as he ran down the stairs to find his mother.
“APE, WHERE THE FUCK ARE YA?” he called out at the bottom of the stairs.
“She’s at work, Bam. Stop screaming.”
Bam groaned, turning around to come face to face with his ex girlfriend, Jenn, who was drinking straight from a bottle of Jack Daniel’s.
“How did you get in here, Jenn?” Bam growled
“You should probably find a better place to hide your spare key. Under the door mat? How original.” She began closing the distance between then, swaying her hips seductively.
“Get out.” Bam warned, flinching as she wrapped an arm around his neck.
“Come on, don’t be so tense.” She turned him around and pressed her body against his back, running her nose over his neck. “Don’t you miss me?”
“Get the fuck out of here Jenn, or I’ll call the police.” Bam spat, spinning around quickly to confront her.
“Fuck you, Brandon, get off me.” Jenn grumbled, rolling her eyes as Bam grabbed her arm and dragged her towards the door.
“Okay, I’m going. But, Bam,” Jenn turned to look him in the eye, leaning against the front door frame, “you still have something that belongs to me, and I will be getting it back soon.” She smiled sweetly at him, kissing his cheek before she turned and stalked down the driveway, smashing the almost empty bottle of Jack on the pavement.
“What the fuck is she talking about?” Bam muttered under his breath as he rubbed a hand across his forehead. When he had broken up with Jenn he had gone through everything he had and sent all of her belongings to her in boxes, he had even moved to a different house. If he still had anything of hers, he was sure he would have realised it by now.
“Bammie? Sneeze... What’s going?” Ville called from the top of the staircase.
“Fuck,” Bam gasped. He shook his head vigorously as he trudged towards the stairs, finding Ville already sitting on the bottom step, a cigarette dangling from his lips and a box of tissues balanced on his knees. “I’m sorry, I forgot about your tissues. Where did you find them?”
“There’s a whole heap of unopened boxes under the bathroom sink. Someone was here,” he accused.
“Huh? Oh, yeah, that was Jenn. She can’t find something at her house and thought maybe I still had it. Come on,” he slipped an arm around Ville’s waist and helped him to his feet. “You should go back to bed. And put that cigarette out.” He plucked the cigarette from Ville’s mouth and shoved it between his own teeth as he led Ville up the stairs.
“You know, Bam, I’m not an invalid. It’s just the flu.” Ville croaked.
“Oh? So does that mean that you can find your own dinner now? Get your own juice and tissues, rather than stay in bed with your books all day?”
“I didn’t mean it! I’m an invalid!”
“I thought so. You know, I’m glad you’re not like this all the time, man.” Bam chuckled, guiding Ville to the bed as the Finn glared at him. “What? You’re very high maintenance when you’re sick, you know?”
Ville sighed, sitting on the edge of the king sized bed. “I’m sorry, Bam. Honestly. I can go stay at a hotel if you like.”
“Naw, it’s alright. I’m just teasing.” He ruffled the other mans unruly hair
“In that case, would you watch a movie with me?”
“I can’t right now, I have to finish editing some footage.”
“But it’s like,” Ville glanced at the alarm clock next to his temporary bed, “almost six. If you had a normal nine-to-five job, you would be at home having dinner and watching the news by now.”
“I don’t watch the news, you twat.” Bam smirked, earning himself another glare from the impatient man. “Okay, fine I’ll watch a movie with you. What do you want to watch?”
“EDWARD!” Ville screeched.
“But we just watched that yesterday.” Bam whined.
“Okay,” Ville said, inspecting his fingernails, “it’s either Edward Scissorhands or The Nightmare Before Christmas. Take your pick.”
“You watched Nightmare this morning!”
He sighed as Ville quivered his bottom lip. “Fine, but you owe me. When you’re not sick anymore, I am going to pay you back so bad.”
“Eep,” Ville squeaked, ducking his head under the quilt, knowing full well from past experiences that when Bam had a mind to pay someone back for any amount of misery they may have put him through, it was never a pleasant experience. “Don’t hurt me Bam, we can watch something else!”
“Nope, it’s too late. I’ve already put the movie on. Now, how am I going to pay you back?”
“Please don’t soak my cigarettes in Jager again!”
“Why not? Jager and cigarettes are tasty.”
“Yeah, separately.” Ville grumbled, leaning back against his pile of pillows and glaring at the television.
So, that's that. I'm currently working on the next chapter, so comment and let me know if it's worth continuing ^-^