Picture Challenge: Better Late Than Never
Title: Better Late Than Never
Pairing: VAM
Rating: PG-13
Summary: "Lay your world on me, I can take the weight."
Disclaimer: These fine men aren't mine. Nor is the sanity that I lost while writing this.
Warnings: None.
Author’s Notes: Beta'd by slasher48
Life has a curious way of uprooting you every time you think you’ve learned the rules. Just when you get comfortable and think you have yourself in order, a hurricane comes a long and tears apart the foundation you’ve built and forces you to adjust to something new. For the last four years, there has been a hurricane wrecking havoc on one man in particular for the last four years. A hurricane that is known affectionately around the world whose name was but a single syllable….
Bam.
That rambunctious, loud, crass American had enthralled millions since he hit the scene… which was perfectly understandable. Once you got a good look at those blue eyes and boyish curls, chances were your heart was going to be stolen. Male and female alike could not deny his beauty which was more than skin deep. It was a beauty a certain front man, singer-songwriter extraordinaire was not immune to either.
The very first time green eyes collide with blue was the beginning of the end. In that cramped and smoke filled London dressing room a new chapter begun in the life’s of both men. That had been the night Ville‘s own heart had rebelled against him and made him feel things he‘d never known himself capable of, for a man he typically would never find himself attracted to. A man who was constantly unpredictable, at times unreliable, and usually immature had stolen his heart away without so much as a drop of effort.
Bam. The very man who was currently throwing a party in the indoor pool area of a very posh hotel. Permission granted, of course -- or at least that was what he’d told everyone when he’d barged into the heated room with as many bottles of booze as his arms could hold. But as Ville sat on a lounge chair as far from the pool and party as possible with an ever present cigarette hanging from his lips, he became increasingly positive that even if Bam had been granted permission, it looked like they were going to be leaving Prague with a hell of a bill, possibly an arrest under someone’s belt, and yet another hotel to add to Bam’s ever growing “Looks Like I’m Not Going Back There” list.
Exhaling, smoke slithered from Ville‘s lips, still stained with the lip gloss he had worn on stage earlier that night. Behind the safety of the thick fall of dark hair, kohl rimmed eyes tracked the movements of a man across the room with the same calculated stare of a predator. A smile threatened to emerge as he watched his object of affection climb up the diving board and launch himself into the pool, doing a surprisingly elegant swan dive before crashing into the seemingly bottomless water.
Bam’s laugh echoed around the room when he resurfaced to the cheers of those who’d been watching him, reveling in the spotlight he was more than accustomed to.
For Ville though, that precious laughter seemed to override the wave of noise from the hundred other individuals in the room in a way that made him feel that if he just closed his eyes tight enough, if he just concentrated hard enough, he could pretend that it was just he and Bam and that that laughter was for his ears alone.
He took another drag from his cigarette to give his traitorous lips something better to do. By the time Bam climbed out of the pool and glanced around to see who else had been watching Ville’s eyes, although shielded by his hair, were carefully directed at the black polish covering his toenails before him. It was a dance Ville had mastered weeks after meeting the younger man; a delicate waltz for which Bam was the perfect partner -- even if he didn’t know he was dancing. The dance, although born of necessity was a bittersweet one. It was not in Ville’s nature to hide but he was not a stupid man either, he knew what stood to be lost were his true feelings to emerge.
Another drag was taken from the cigarette as Ville’s mind whirled, flipping through the times he’d nearly given himself away like a macabre slideshow. It never mattered how badly he wanted to tell Bam about the lust and adoration that swam free in the safety of his locked down heart; this particular truth was not worth the loss of the purest friendship he‘d known since Sami. His own feelings were trivial when put in the face of threatening Bam’s happiness, simple as that.
“Ville, check it out.” Migé spoke for the first time in nearly an hour, his deep voice coaxing Ville back to the here and now.
“What?” Ville turned his head and looked at the man beside him, shaking his head fondly at the disheveled appearance that had somewhat become Migé’s trademark.
“Over there.” A tattooed arm lifted and pointed in across the room to the opposite side of the pool. Turning to follow where his friend was trying to direct his attention, it took Ville a moment to find what he was supposed to see, but soon enough he saw what had captured Migé’s eye.
“Who is that?” Ville squinted as he routinely snuffed out his dying cigarette, dropping the butt into the ashtray to join the rest of its brethren that he had smoked away since the start of the party.
“I’m not quite sure.” Was the response he received as he wracked his brain trying to place the woman standing next to Bam on the other side of the room.
“She doesn’t look too happy, does she?” Migé muttered, more to himself than anything, Ville assumed, but he answered anyway.
“No, I guess not.” He watched in mixed confusion and amusement as the slightly blurry woman waved her arms about in an exaggerated fashion that reminded him of the actors of ancient Greek times who had to produce over the top movements so audience members sitting furthest from the small stage would be able to understand and follow the play with the same ease as those in the font….
Ville’s wayward thoughts of times long dead were lost as he watched the woman poke Bam in the chest while her cheeks turned a lovely shade of red. Ville tilted his head to the side and shifted discreetly to try and get a better view, wishing he could see through those in his way and that Bam’s back wasn’t to him.
“Wonder what he did this time.” Migé said as he too tried to get a better look through the crowd.
“Don’t know, but I think I need another Brewskie.”
“But yours is still half full.” Migé looked from the glass bottle on the ground then back up to his long time friend, confusion in his evident in his tone.
“I think I need another beer, Mikko.” He stressed the words and looked pointedly at the tiki bar standing some ten feet from Bam and his ‘friend’. Thankfully after a few sharp head jerks and grunts in the direction of the bar, Migé caught on and nodded, lumbering to his feet and meshing into the crowd as smoothly as a man his size could.
**
“Woman, how many freakin’ times do I have to say it? I don’t know you! I never slept with you and I am damn sure am not your boyfriend!” Bam nearly screamed at the thick headed bimbo, his blue eyes deepening to a darker shade to match the volatile mood the stupid bitch put him in.
She opened her mouth to spew some more of what was sure to be utter bullshit, and Bam couldn’t help it as his eyes snaked towards the hot tub to his right and debated with himself if he could drown her and make it look like an accident. Oh better yet, maybe he could have Vito fuck her and pray she gets suffocated….Yeah, that’d be great because if he had to listen to another second of her confessing her undying love and devotion and blah, blah, blah, he was going to lose what little sanity he had remaining.
“But baby, how can you not remember me?” She pouted, mood swinging from the anger that she’d shown him just a little while ago into something much more pathetic. She knew she was grasping at straws but just wouldn’t quit.
“Jesus Christ!” Bam finally exploded, stepping close to her and using his height to his advantage, hoping to intimidate her into fucking off. “Look you stupid bitch, I don’t know you!” He sneered, the whiskey in his system doing little to help his temper. “I don’t want to know you and I sure as hell have never fucked you, nor do I ever want to.” He raked his eyes down her bikini clad body and noted how her hip bones jutted out unappealingly and ribs were painfully exposed. Ew, only one person could pull off the unnaturally thin look and she sure as hell was not it. Bam‘s heart warmed at the thought of that one person even in the midst of a near temper tantrum.
“You asshole!” She yelled snapping Bam from his musings, her dull brown eyes misting with tears that did little to make him feel bad.
“Yeah, yeah, babe, not like I haven’t heard that one before.” With those biting words, he dismissed her entirely and turned away to scan the room for either another fight or a quick lay.
The treasure he found though was far better than both of those things and, with a lopsided grin that was miles away from the look of disgust he’d just given whatever-she-said-her-name-was, Bam moved to the tiki bar to grab two beers, nearly colliding with Migé who’d plowed right into him in his haste to exit.
“Yo, Mizee!” Bam grinned, his mood already improving as he regained his footing on the slippery ground.
“Hey, Bam. Er…how are you?” Migé shifted uneasily as he seemed to look for the quickest escape route.
“Pissed and in need of massive amounts of alcohol. Or a gun to take out the majority of the female population…”
“I think manslaughter is frowned upon in the Czech Republic, buddy.”
“I don’t care.” Bam grumbled, reaching into the cooler beside the bar to snatch up two ice cold beers, eagerly twisting the cap off of one and taking a deep drink. Lowering his bottle from his lips, Bam narrowed his eyes slightly at the man in front of him who was still looking around as if he expected someone to emerge from the crowd and assassinate him. “You’re acting funky, did Burton spike your drink again?”
“I sure hope not. I don’t think my delicate mind could handle waking up naked in the middle of the woods with a creepy note straight out of a Saw movie duct taped to my chest.” Migé shuddered at the memory. “Not to mention after I nearly pissed myself I tore the note off without thinking…I had a bald patch on my chest for two weeks. I hate my friends.” Bam didn’t even try to suppress the laughter that tore itself from his lips.
“Oh shit! I’m going to have to remember that for the next time Novak passes out on my couch!”
“No, you’d be a bad friend.” Bam only laughed harder.
Migé forced a laugh of his own as he shifted his weight from one leg to the other, looking around again in a way that made Bam think of a kid who’d been caught with his hand in the cookie jar and was looking around for the dog or anyone else to put the blame on. Bam was just about to say something more when Migé’s face burst into an unexpected grin and his previously tense posture relaxed. Bam turned to see what had the other man so excited.
“Oh, speak of the devil. I’ll talk to you later Bam, Burton looks to be in need of a swim.” The Finn smiled and took off towards Burton as if he were the Holy Grail.
Bam watched as Migé snuck up behind his unsuspecting victim, and body checked him into the pool. The pianist went tumbling into the water with a girlish scream, taking a girl down with him in his haste to grab something secure. Bam laughed at Burton’s expense and turned to scan the rest of the room, his fingers mentally crossed that the person he’d seen before was still around.
His eyes expertly took in all of the people around him, trying to weed out those of insignificance from the single gem that had caught his eye. He was just about to give up when a door opening to the patio in the far corner of the room caught his attention and he saw a familiar back crossing the threshold, that mass of dark hair unmistakable. Shoving his way unceremoniously though the crowd and not paying any mind to those he knocked off balance, or into the pool on some occasions, Bam ran to the other side of the large room and took a moment to collect himself before he shoved the door open and stepped into the night, that air heavy with the smell of summer. “Hey.” He smiled as he approached the railing, noting how the glow of a cigarette acted as the only separation between human and the backdrop of the darkened night sky.
“Hello.” Ville said although he bother to turn around to greet him. The tip of the cigarette burned a brighter orange as another lungful of smoke was taken into poorly treated lungs. Ville held the smoke in for a moment long moment before slowly exhaling as if almost reluctant to; not even before the smoke dissipated though, the cigarette was making that familiar journey back to soft lips.
Bam had known many smokers in his life but damn, Ville could and did put a chimney to shame.
“Beer?” he asked, holding out the beverage to Ville, not moving any closer as a way of forcing the older man to actually turn and look at him.
Ville crushed the half finished cigarette out on the pristine white railing, not caring at all if he defaced it. Hell, he could have kicked the thing over and thrown it into the pond behind the hotel and the managers wouldn’t even notice it once they got an eyeful of Bam’s party zone. Dropping the butt to the ground, he turned and took the beer with a quiet “Thank you”. A frown knitted Bam’s brows as he released the neck of the beverage, annoyed with and slightly concerned by the fact that Ville wouldn’t lift his eyes from the tops of his shoes.
As if sensing Bam’s displeasure Ville gave a shadow of a smile as he dug into the back pocket of his jeans and produced a much abused pack of cigarettes. Flipping the carton open, he lifted it to his mouth and wrapped his lips around one of his thin friends before offering Bam one. Bam shook his head in declination, just like Ville had known he would, so he simply shrugged and jammed the pack back into his pocket, making a mental note that he needed another one, or twelve, soon.
“Something the matter?”
“No.” Ville gave his back to Bam and trained his eyes on the dark expanse of lawn, hoping that it wasn’t painfully obvious that he was doing his best to not look at the other man. He knew that if he looked at those big blue eyes he’d be lost, having felt especially weak to the magnetic effect Bam had on him since he had awoken in the morning and saw the younger man sitting at the end of the bed waiting patiently for him to rise from his slumber. The look on Bam’s deceptively innocent face had tugged on Ville’s heartstrings in the worst way and he had been forced to make a hasty exit into the bathroom, least he tug Bam against him and claim those lips in a soft kiss like his hormones demanded.
“If you say so...” Bam dismissed it. Once again, like Ville had known he would. When the American got into his party mode, he either chose to ignore emotional baggage of others or just truly didn’t notice it. Whichever it was Ville wasn’t sure, but was thankful that the matter wasn’t pressed. “Actually…are you sure, Ville?” Figured. Just when Ville thought he’d had Bam figured out, the rules would change. Yeah, that had become the story of his life since meeting the hyperactive man.
“Forget it, Bam, just go back inside and have another drink. But lay off the whiskey,” Ville’s eyes flashed to Bam’s face for a heartbeat before taking in the landscape again. “I smell it on you and it’s terrible.” More so, Ville was surprised that Bam was as docile as he was, having been more than acquainted with the drunken rages the boy fell into once he had a shot or three of whiskey in him.
Bam simply rolled his eyes and took another drink of his beer. “I don’t wanna go back in…it’s boring,” he sulked, sounding very much like the child Ville sometimes thought of him as.
“It’s boring? Bam, I’m surprised the police aren’t here with the mess and noise in there! For heaven’s sake, you relocated half of the lounge chairs and tables into the pool…which, like we told you, did not float. Not to mention the broken bell hop cart laying on the bottom of the pool you and Novak tried to do a shopping cart with.” Bam chuckled, holding his shoulders high in pride with his ingenious ideas Ville mentioned.
“That shopping cart was amazing! You should have tried it! But no Mr. Finnish-sulk-pot, you just had to sit there and…well sulk!” A finely shaped eyebrow raised at Bam’s less than stellar excuse of insult as Ville flicked his lighter and stuck the end of his cigarette into the delicate flame.
“You’re losing your touch in your old age Bammieboy.”
“I’m not and I’ll prove it.”
“No, that’s quite alright. The last time you ‘proved’ something, I ended up being the one to explain to Don fuckin’ Vito why his living room had been turned into the Grand Gallery of Phalli….I still don’t know how I got roped into that actually, or how where you got such high-resolution images,” Ville shook his head. “There must have been at least fifty pictures duct taped to the man‘s walls”
“We volunteered you because he knew that if he killed you, more people would miss you than if he killed me or a member of the Crew. Hell, if he managed to off one of us, a portion of the world would throw a goddamn party.”
“Thanks, Bam, I‘m glad you had enough confidence in my popularity to put my life in danger. The fans thank you also.” Ville gave an undignified snort, before taking a drag from his cigarette that had gone unattended for too long as far as he was concerned. “Any time man. I’ll be right back…I think I’ll take your advice and help myself to some more booze.”
“No more whiskey!” Ville called as Bam sprinted back into the throes of the party. The door swung shut behind Bam and muffled a good portion of the light and noise of the party, something Ville was eternally thankful for since he just wasn‘t in the mood to socialize.
He hooked tendril of dirty hair behind an ear draped his arms over the railing, willing his body to relax. He dipped his head to on his tattooed arm as his mind wandered, finding it amusing how the flat stretch of grass echoed what he imagined his heart would look like. Manicured, neat, and closely managed but nothing really there, not sustaining any additional life. Just flat and lonely.
Much like there were no flowers or trees gracing the yard, there was nothing inside of himself to really prove to Ville that he was truly alive. It was a scattered and wayward thought that made perfect sense in his slightly buzzed mind.
Not sure how long had passed, he eventually became bored with the unchanging scenery and was convinced that Bam wasn’t coming back. He was mildly surprised to realize that he even cared about the fact that the younger man had seemed to have forgotten about him. “You’re becoming more and more of a head case, Valo.” He growled to himself as he flicked away his cigarette, internally hoping it would destroy even a blade of that sickeningly empty yard.
Just as he turned to head back into the fray of the party to make his way to his room, someone came barreling out of the door and into his arms, knocking him off balance and sending him stumbling backwards into the unforgiving railing. Ville grunted as his spine collided with the metal and clutched the body in his arms reflexively.
“Ville!” Bam squealed, drunker than Ville had seen him in quite some time -- which was a quite a feat for the younger man. But that was Bam, constantly trying to outdo himself, even if it was subconsciously.
“Hi, BamBam.” His first smile of the night finally managed to weasel its way onto his face against his will when Bam looked up and offered him a grin that split his face nearly in two, and made his slightly glassy eyes sparkle like the stars above them. “What did you get into?” It was a question he didn’t really want the answer to but felt that he should ask it regardless.
“Everything!” Green eyes went wide, shocked that Bam could hit such a high note. A laugh bubbled past his lips at the juvenile state Bam digressed to when drunk. Ville took in Bam’s features and felt his heart clench. The flush in those cheeks and seemingly permanent smile pink lips were twisted up in broke the semblance of restraint Ville had on himself and he had to bite his own lip to the point of near blood draw to keep his body locked in place. Perfection was the word that whispered through the canticles of his mind and he agreed with himself, rather than mentally berating himself for the thought like he normally would. Oh, this wasn’t going to end well.
“Well, I think that’s enough for the night. Don’t you?”
“Maaaybe.” Bam said, in a sing-song voice that confirmed that it was indeed time to tuck him into bed for the night before something disastrous happened. But even as Ville moved to gather his friend into his arms, he wasn’t sure on whose behalf the disaster would be made.
“Yeah, bedtime for sure. Come on, Bam.” Ville wrapped his arm around Bam’s waist and instantly Bam’s own strong arm draped around thin shoulders, relinquishing all control and putting his trust blindly in the only man who, outside of his own CKY and Jackass cliques, had ever earned it.
The moment Ville took a step towards the doors though, was the same moment Bam’s legs decided that it would be a good idea to stop working and so down they went, in a heap of tangled limbs, Bam giggling even as he smashed down on top of Ville, effectively crushing all the air from the skinnier man.
“Get off.” Ville grumbled when he realized that Bam was making no attempts to remove himself and so he shoved him off of his body, unable to bring himself to feel bad for the poor treatment when Bam simply laughed some more. This time, once Ville got to his feet and brushed himself off, rather than trying to help Bam walk he simply stooped and gathered the younger man fully into his arms.
“Hey, Ville!” Bam slurred, wrapping his arms around Ville’s neck without really thinking about the action.
“Hi, Bam.” The words were clipped as Ville turned his head away so that the scent of liquor mingled with the sweetness of Bam’s breath could not test his willpower further than the weight and warmth snuggled against his front already was.
“I like your shirt, Willa.”
Ville allowed his eyes to drift to that cherubic face as Bam lifted a hand to trail his fingers down the front of the cotton t-shirt, causing a poorly suppressed shiver to run the length of his spine. An action that, thankfully, went unnoticed by Bam.
Rather than speak and reveal the tremor he knew would be in his voice, Ville nodded and pushed his way through the glass door and back into the noise of the party that, apparently, was still going strong despite the ungodly hour. The lack of a verbal answer and the assault of the noise on ears attuned to silence from time on the patio did little, if anything at all, to deter Bam from his happy drunken prattle.
“It looks better on you than me. I feel like a pussy wearing my own name on things. But don’t tell Element and Adio, ‘kay? I don’t think they’d ‘preciate it….Oh, I know what I’m gonna do!” Bam bounced in Ville’s arms, causing the older man to grunt as he picked his way through the crowd, apologizing when Bam‘s feet to knocked a woman‘s drink out of her grasp and down the front of her dress. “I’m going to send all that shit with my name on it to you, you’ll rock it better than anyone!” Ville was having a hard time understanding Bam’s slur of words and settled for nodding as he finally maneuvered his way through the thick throng of people and stumbled into the hallway.
“What floor are…never mind. Do you have any objections to crashing in my room?” A giggle bubbled from Bam’s tantalizingly pink lips. “I thought not.”
**
“Come on, Bam, let go so I can get my damn key card.”
“No.”
Ville let loose a string of Finnish vulgarities and considered leaving Bam to sleep out in the hall. Thing was, when Bam became drunk out of his mind he had three basic moods: deliriously funny, dangerously angry, and outrageously clingy. There was no middle ground and it figured it would be the clingy mood Ville got burdened with. As it were, he’d almost happily deal with a pissed off Bam rather than a man insistent on snuggling as deeply into his chest as humanly possible. With the Finnish equivalent of “fuck my life”, Ville resorted to something that had always worked when Linde fell into a similar mood once too much Jack Daniels was involved.
Giving one last unheeded warning to release him, Ville dropped his arms that had been supporting Bam’s body, expecting that the other man would release his neck like Linde would have and fall to the floor. But no, that move was a huge failure, as Bam simply scrambled to wrap his legs around Ville’s slim waist and tighten his arms around that pale neck. Growling, Ville left Bam to cling to him as he took the chance to dig into his pockets for that damn card, bracing one hand on the wall to keep upright.
With a relief he never knew a piece of plastic could cause, Ville grabbed the card and jammed it harshly into the slot, ready to give anything to get away from Bam and the intimate position Ville felt them to be in. The American probably had no idea that he was driving his friend almost insane with the feel of his groin pressed to the heartagram tattoo on Ville’s abdomen. Inaudible swears fell from Ville’s lips as he shoved the door open and threw himself inside, reaching up to untangle Bam’s arms from his neck and force him to drop to the floor.
“Owwww,” The skater whined as he rubbed his ass. “You’re a prick.” Ville wasn’t paying any attention to him as he whirled away and headed for the bathroom for some much needed alone time. “Wait!”
Don’t look back, don’t look back, ignore him! What little rational thought he had left screamed at him. “Ville….”
Damnit!
Bam’s pathetic call forced him to stop and turn reluctantly around. “I don’t feel good.”
“Vittu…are you going to throw up?” He approached Bam warily, waiting for the answer. If it were a yes, he was going to throw the garbage pail at his friend and let him deal with it himself - Ville Valo simply didn’t do vomit. It wasn’t in his contract and there was no way, even for Bam, he would stick around if he knew someone was going to upchuck.
“I don’t think so, but my belly hurts, Willa.” Bam turned big blue eyes on him, raising his arms in the air like a toddler would when wanting to be picked up. His resolve not only weakened but shattered entirely and, with a sigh, Ville tugged his friend up from the floor and scooped him into his arms for the second time that night. “Thank you.” Bam whispered as he pressed his face into the soft skin of Ville’s neck, showing a vulnerability that he would have denied existed within him had he been sober.
“You’re welcome, sweetheart. Here, I’m going to put you down in the bed and go find some pain killers for when you wake up tomorrow. Okay?” When Bam nodded Ville lowered the heavier man as gently as he could into the unmade bed, glad that he had banned housekeeping from his room for the couple days he’d been staying there. Leaving Bam to situate himself, Ville grabbed his last cigarette from his back pocket and tossed the now empty pack in the middle of the floor as a reminder to get more as he made his way into the bathroom and to his toiletry bag, rummaging around in it for those tiny life saving pills. “Gotcha.” He shook the small white bottle and grabbed a Dixie cup from the sink, filling it with water and entering the main room again to set the two items down on the bedside table.
Having expected Bam to have passed out moments after his head hit the pillow, he was mildly surprised to see the younger man sitting up Indian style in the center of the mattress. “Bam?” He placed the pill bottle and cup down and cast his friend a confused look. “Are you alright?” A sharp shake of the head sent mocha curls dancing across his face in a way that made Bam seem much younger than he truly was, that drunken vulnerability clear as a bell in the depths of his baby blues. “What’s wrong?” It was natural to want to comfort his friend so Ville didn’t even notice that he’d tucked a strand of Bam’s hair behind an ear as he stood before him, looking down with a watchful eye, trying to figure out what was wrong with the American.
“I think I‘m gonna-” Bam’s face paled and emerald eyes widened, knowing what was coming next.
“Bam, no!” But he couldn’t get away fast enough and, with a lurch and a gag, Bam emptied the entire contents of his stomach on himself, the floor, and a very repulsed musician.
Ville looked down at the soiled Adio shirt with the name of the man he wanted nothing more than to throw off the balcony and grimaced, lifting his cigarette to his lips to take a hard enough drag that it hollowed his cheeks. Before he could say anything though, Bam gagged and gave a dry heave that had Ville fighting to keep his own stomach from rebelling. Lowering his hand from his lips, he cast Bam a look of pure disbelief and mild you’ve got to be fuckin’ kidding me. His hands itched to strangle the pasty looking male on the bed. But rather than choking Bam, Ville clenched his teeth and took a healthy pull from his smoldering cigarette.
“Know what…you can sleep in that.” He gagged as the smell of the vomit permeated the air.
Dropping the cigarette to the ground and crushing it into the carpet, far past caring, he ran for the bathroom, stripping before he even crossed the threshold as Bam finally passed out on the bed.
Remind me again what I see in him…. He thought to himself as he jumped into the shower, squeaking when the still cold spray hit his back. He scrubbed until his skin was raw and then washed some more, still feeling as if he had Bam all over him. After he was sure he was clean, he toweled off and wandered back into the bedroom and over to his small messenger bag for a clean shirt and boxers.
Feeling much better, he looked to the bed and pity swelled in his eyes; as much as he wanted to, he simply couldn’t leave Bam sleeping like that.
As quickly as possible while touching as little as possible, Ville stripped his younger friend to his boxers and tossed the soiled clothes into a corner. He turned back to the bed and sighed to himself as a sudden wave of longing hit him hard enough to make he knees go weak. “Damnit, Bam,” he whispered, a bittersweet smile tweaking at his lips. “If only you knew the things you did to me.” Ville smoothed the back of his hand down a soft cheek. “Maybe someday I’ll tell you….Maybe someday you‘ll know how much I love you.”
Ville reluctantly extracted his hand and moved to lay himself on the couch, unwilling to submit himself to the torture of sharing a bed with Bam tonight. He fell so quickly into the arms of sleep that he never had a chance of noticing something crucial... He never saw radiant the pair of radiant blues slipping open or the secret smile that emerged on a boyish face.
Nor was his hearing keen enough to catch the sound of a heart speeding up and the whispered confession that was lost in the darkness.
Pairing: VAM
Rating: PG-13
Summary: "Lay your world on me, I can take the weight."
Disclaimer: These fine men aren't mine. Nor is the sanity that I lost while writing this.
Warnings: None.
Author’s Notes: Beta'd by slasher48
Life has a curious way of uprooting you every time you think you’ve learned the rules. Just when you get comfortable and think you have yourself in order, a hurricane comes a long and tears apart the foundation you’ve built and forces you to adjust to something new. For the last four years, there has been a hurricane wrecking havoc on one man in particular for the last four years. A hurricane that is known affectionately around the world whose name was but a single syllable….
Bam.
That rambunctious, loud, crass American had enthralled millions since he hit the scene… which was perfectly understandable. Once you got a good look at those blue eyes and boyish curls, chances were your heart was going to be stolen. Male and female alike could not deny his beauty which was more than skin deep. It was a beauty a certain front man, singer-songwriter extraordinaire was not immune to either.
The very first time green eyes collide with blue was the beginning of the end. In that cramped and smoke filled London dressing room a new chapter begun in the life’s of both men. That had been the night Ville‘s own heart had rebelled against him and made him feel things he‘d never known himself capable of, for a man he typically would never find himself attracted to. A man who was constantly unpredictable, at times unreliable, and usually immature had stolen his heart away without so much as a drop of effort.
Bam. The very man who was currently throwing a party in the indoor pool area of a very posh hotel. Permission granted, of course -- or at least that was what he’d told everyone when he’d barged into the heated room with as many bottles of booze as his arms could hold. But as Ville sat on a lounge chair as far from the pool and party as possible with an ever present cigarette hanging from his lips, he became increasingly positive that even if Bam had been granted permission, it looked like they were going to be leaving Prague with a hell of a bill, possibly an arrest under someone’s belt, and yet another hotel to add to Bam’s ever growing “Looks Like I’m Not Going Back There” list.
Exhaling, smoke slithered from Ville‘s lips, still stained with the lip gloss he had worn on stage earlier that night. Behind the safety of the thick fall of dark hair, kohl rimmed eyes tracked the movements of a man across the room with the same calculated stare of a predator. A smile threatened to emerge as he watched his object of affection climb up the diving board and launch himself into the pool, doing a surprisingly elegant swan dive before crashing into the seemingly bottomless water.
Bam’s laugh echoed around the room when he resurfaced to the cheers of those who’d been watching him, reveling in the spotlight he was more than accustomed to.
For Ville though, that precious laughter seemed to override the wave of noise from the hundred other individuals in the room in a way that made him feel that if he just closed his eyes tight enough, if he just concentrated hard enough, he could pretend that it was just he and Bam and that that laughter was for his ears alone.
He took another drag from his cigarette to give his traitorous lips something better to do. By the time Bam climbed out of the pool and glanced around to see who else had been watching Ville’s eyes, although shielded by his hair, were carefully directed at the black polish covering his toenails before him. It was a dance Ville had mastered weeks after meeting the younger man; a delicate waltz for which Bam was the perfect partner -- even if he didn’t know he was dancing. The dance, although born of necessity was a bittersweet one. It was not in Ville’s nature to hide but he was not a stupid man either, he knew what stood to be lost were his true feelings to emerge.
Another drag was taken from the cigarette as Ville’s mind whirled, flipping through the times he’d nearly given himself away like a macabre slideshow. It never mattered how badly he wanted to tell Bam about the lust and adoration that swam free in the safety of his locked down heart; this particular truth was not worth the loss of the purest friendship he‘d known since Sami. His own feelings were trivial when put in the face of threatening Bam’s happiness, simple as that.
“Ville, check it out.” Migé spoke for the first time in nearly an hour, his deep voice coaxing Ville back to the here and now.
“What?” Ville turned his head and looked at the man beside him, shaking his head fondly at the disheveled appearance that had somewhat become Migé’s trademark.
“Over there.” A tattooed arm lifted and pointed in across the room to the opposite side of the pool. Turning to follow where his friend was trying to direct his attention, it took Ville a moment to find what he was supposed to see, but soon enough he saw what had captured Migé’s eye.
“Who is that?” Ville squinted as he routinely snuffed out his dying cigarette, dropping the butt into the ashtray to join the rest of its brethren that he had smoked away since the start of the party.
“I’m not quite sure.” Was the response he received as he wracked his brain trying to place the woman standing next to Bam on the other side of the room.
“She doesn’t look too happy, does she?” Migé muttered, more to himself than anything, Ville assumed, but he answered anyway.
“No, I guess not.” He watched in mixed confusion and amusement as the slightly blurry woman waved her arms about in an exaggerated fashion that reminded him of the actors of ancient Greek times who had to produce over the top movements so audience members sitting furthest from the small stage would be able to understand and follow the play with the same ease as those in the font….
Ville’s wayward thoughts of times long dead were lost as he watched the woman poke Bam in the chest while her cheeks turned a lovely shade of red. Ville tilted his head to the side and shifted discreetly to try and get a better view, wishing he could see through those in his way and that Bam’s back wasn’t to him.
“Wonder what he did this time.” Migé said as he too tried to get a better look through the crowd.
“Don’t know, but I think I need another Brewskie.”
“But yours is still half full.” Migé looked from the glass bottle on the ground then back up to his long time friend, confusion in his evident in his tone.
“I think I need another beer, Mikko.” He stressed the words and looked pointedly at the tiki bar standing some ten feet from Bam and his ‘friend’. Thankfully after a few sharp head jerks and grunts in the direction of the bar, Migé caught on and nodded, lumbering to his feet and meshing into the crowd as smoothly as a man his size could.
**
“Woman, how many freakin’ times do I have to say it? I don’t know you! I never slept with you and I am damn sure am not your boyfriend!” Bam nearly screamed at the thick headed bimbo, his blue eyes deepening to a darker shade to match the volatile mood the stupid bitch put him in.
She opened her mouth to spew some more of what was sure to be utter bullshit, and Bam couldn’t help it as his eyes snaked towards the hot tub to his right and debated with himself if he could drown her and make it look like an accident. Oh better yet, maybe he could have Vito fuck her and pray she gets suffocated….Yeah, that’d be great because if he had to listen to another second of her confessing her undying love and devotion and blah, blah, blah, he was going to lose what little sanity he had remaining.
“But baby, how can you not remember me?” She pouted, mood swinging from the anger that she’d shown him just a little while ago into something much more pathetic. She knew she was grasping at straws but just wouldn’t quit.
“Jesus Christ!” Bam finally exploded, stepping close to her and using his height to his advantage, hoping to intimidate her into fucking off. “Look you stupid bitch, I don’t know you!” He sneered, the whiskey in his system doing little to help his temper. “I don’t want to know you and I sure as hell have never fucked you, nor do I ever want to.” He raked his eyes down her bikini clad body and noted how her hip bones jutted out unappealingly and ribs were painfully exposed. Ew, only one person could pull off the unnaturally thin look and she sure as hell was not it. Bam‘s heart warmed at the thought of that one person even in the midst of a near temper tantrum.
“You asshole!” She yelled snapping Bam from his musings, her dull brown eyes misting with tears that did little to make him feel bad.
“Yeah, yeah, babe, not like I haven’t heard that one before.” With those biting words, he dismissed her entirely and turned away to scan the room for either another fight or a quick lay.
The treasure he found though was far better than both of those things and, with a lopsided grin that was miles away from the look of disgust he’d just given whatever-she-said-her-name-was, Bam moved to the tiki bar to grab two beers, nearly colliding with Migé who’d plowed right into him in his haste to exit.
“Yo, Mizee!” Bam grinned, his mood already improving as he regained his footing on the slippery ground.
“Hey, Bam. Er…how are you?” Migé shifted uneasily as he seemed to look for the quickest escape route.
“Pissed and in need of massive amounts of alcohol. Or a gun to take out the majority of the female population…”
“I think manslaughter is frowned upon in the Czech Republic, buddy.”
“I don’t care.” Bam grumbled, reaching into the cooler beside the bar to snatch up two ice cold beers, eagerly twisting the cap off of one and taking a deep drink. Lowering his bottle from his lips, Bam narrowed his eyes slightly at the man in front of him who was still looking around as if he expected someone to emerge from the crowd and assassinate him. “You’re acting funky, did Burton spike your drink again?”
“I sure hope not. I don’t think my delicate mind could handle waking up naked in the middle of the woods with a creepy note straight out of a Saw movie duct taped to my chest.” Migé shuddered at the memory. “Not to mention after I nearly pissed myself I tore the note off without thinking…I had a bald patch on my chest for two weeks. I hate my friends.” Bam didn’t even try to suppress the laughter that tore itself from his lips.
“Oh shit! I’m going to have to remember that for the next time Novak passes out on my couch!”
“No, you’d be a bad friend.” Bam only laughed harder.
Migé forced a laugh of his own as he shifted his weight from one leg to the other, looking around again in a way that made Bam think of a kid who’d been caught with his hand in the cookie jar and was looking around for the dog or anyone else to put the blame on. Bam was just about to say something more when Migé’s face burst into an unexpected grin and his previously tense posture relaxed. Bam turned to see what had the other man so excited.
“Oh, speak of the devil. I’ll talk to you later Bam, Burton looks to be in need of a swim.” The Finn smiled and took off towards Burton as if he were the Holy Grail.
Bam watched as Migé snuck up behind his unsuspecting victim, and body checked him into the pool. The pianist went tumbling into the water with a girlish scream, taking a girl down with him in his haste to grab something secure. Bam laughed at Burton’s expense and turned to scan the rest of the room, his fingers mentally crossed that the person he’d seen before was still around.
His eyes expertly took in all of the people around him, trying to weed out those of insignificance from the single gem that had caught his eye. He was just about to give up when a door opening to the patio in the far corner of the room caught his attention and he saw a familiar back crossing the threshold, that mass of dark hair unmistakable. Shoving his way unceremoniously though the crowd and not paying any mind to those he knocked off balance, or into the pool on some occasions, Bam ran to the other side of the large room and took a moment to collect himself before he shoved the door open and stepped into the night, that air heavy with the smell of summer. “Hey.” He smiled as he approached the railing, noting how the glow of a cigarette acted as the only separation between human and the backdrop of the darkened night sky.
“Hello.” Ville said although he bother to turn around to greet him. The tip of the cigarette burned a brighter orange as another lungful of smoke was taken into poorly treated lungs. Ville held the smoke in for a moment long moment before slowly exhaling as if almost reluctant to; not even before the smoke dissipated though, the cigarette was making that familiar journey back to soft lips.
Bam had known many smokers in his life but damn, Ville could and did put a chimney to shame.
“Beer?” he asked, holding out the beverage to Ville, not moving any closer as a way of forcing the older man to actually turn and look at him.
Ville crushed the half finished cigarette out on the pristine white railing, not caring at all if he defaced it. Hell, he could have kicked the thing over and thrown it into the pond behind the hotel and the managers wouldn’t even notice it once they got an eyeful of Bam’s party zone. Dropping the butt to the ground, he turned and took the beer with a quiet “Thank you”. A frown knitted Bam’s brows as he released the neck of the beverage, annoyed with and slightly concerned by the fact that Ville wouldn’t lift his eyes from the tops of his shoes.
As if sensing Bam’s displeasure Ville gave a shadow of a smile as he dug into the back pocket of his jeans and produced a much abused pack of cigarettes. Flipping the carton open, he lifted it to his mouth and wrapped his lips around one of his thin friends before offering Bam one. Bam shook his head in declination, just like Ville had known he would, so he simply shrugged and jammed the pack back into his pocket, making a mental note that he needed another one, or twelve, soon.
“Something the matter?”
“No.” Ville gave his back to Bam and trained his eyes on the dark expanse of lawn, hoping that it wasn’t painfully obvious that he was doing his best to not look at the other man. He knew that if he looked at those big blue eyes he’d be lost, having felt especially weak to the magnetic effect Bam had on him since he had awoken in the morning and saw the younger man sitting at the end of the bed waiting patiently for him to rise from his slumber. The look on Bam’s deceptively innocent face had tugged on Ville’s heartstrings in the worst way and he had been forced to make a hasty exit into the bathroom, least he tug Bam against him and claim those lips in a soft kiss like his hormones demanded.
“If you say so...” Bam dismissed it. Once again, like Ville had known he would. When the American got into his party mode, he either chose to ignore emotional baggage of others or just truly didn’t notice it. Whichever it was Ville wasn’t sure, but was thankful that the matter wasn’t pressed. “Actually…are you sure, Ville?” Figured. Just when Ville thought he’d had Bam figured out, the rules would change. Yeah, that had become the story of his life since meeting the hyperactive man.
“Forget it, Bam, just go back inside and have another drink. But lay off the whiskey,” Ville’s eyes flashed to Bam’s face for a heartbeat before taking in the landscape again. “I smell it on you and it’s terrible.” More so, Ville was surprised that Bam was as docile as he was, having been more than acquainted with the drunken rages the boy fell into once he had a shot or three of whiskey in him.
Bam simply rolled his eyes and took another drink of his beer. “I don’t wanna go back in…it’s boring,” he sulked, sounding very much like the child Ville sometimes thought of him as.
“It’s boring? Bam, I’m surprised the police aren’t here with the mess and noise in there! For heaven’s sake, you relocated half of the lounge chairs and tables into the pool…which, like we told you, did not float. Not to mention the broken bell hop cart laying on the bottom of the pool you and Novak tried to do a shopping cart with.” Bam chuckled, holding his shoulders high in pride with his ingenious ideas Ville mentioned.
“That shopping cart was amazing! You should have tried it! But no Mr. Finnish-sulk-pot, you just had to sit there and…well sulk!” A finely shaped eyebrow raised at Bam’s less than stellar excuse of insult as Ville flicked his lighter and stuck the end of his cigarette into the delicate flame.
“You’re losing your touch in your old age Bammieboy.”
“I’m not and I’ll prove it.”
“No, that’s quite alright. The last time you ‘proved’ something, I ended up being the one to explain to Don fuckin’ Vito why his living room had been turned into the Grand Gallery of Phalli….I still don’t know how I got roped into that actually, or how where you got such high-resolution images,” Ville shook his head. “There must have been at least fifty pictures duct taped to the man‘s walls”
“We volunteered you because he knew that if he killed you, more people would miss you than if he killed me or a member of the Crew. Hell, if he managed to off one of us, a portion of the world would throw a goddamn party.”
“Thanks, Bam, I‘m glad you had enough confidence in my popularity to put my life in danger. The fans thank you also.” Ville gave an undignified snort, before taking a drag from his cigarette that had gone unattended for too long as far as he was concerned. “Any time man. I’ll be right back…I think I’ll take your advice and help myself to some more booze.”
“No more whiskey!” Ville called as Bam sprinted back into the throes of the party. The door swung shut behind Bam and muffled a good portion of the light and noise of the party, something Ville was eternally thankful for since he just wasn‘t in the mood to socialize.
He hooked tendril of dirty hair behind an ear draped his arms over the railing, willing his body to relax. He dipped his head to on his tattooed arm as his mind wandered, finding it amusing how the flat stretch of grass echoed what he imagined his heart would look like. Manicured, neat, and closely managed but nothing really there, not sustaining any additional life. Just flat and lonely.
Much like there were no flowers or trees gracing the yard, there was nothing inside of himself to really prove to Ville that he was truly alive. It was a scattered and wayward thought that made perfect sense in his slightly buzzed mind.
Not sure how long had passed, he eventually became bored with the unchanging scenery and was convinced that Bam wasn’t coming back. He was mildly surprised to realize that he even cared about the fact that the younger man had seemed to have forgotten about him. “You’re becoming more and more of a head case, Valo.” He growled to himself as he flicked away his cigarette, internally hoping it would destroy even a blade of that sickeningly empty yard.
Just as he turned to head back into the fray of the party to make his way to his room, someone came barreling out of the door and into his arms, knocking him off balance and sending him stumbling backwards into the unforgiving railing. Ville grunted as his spine collided with the metal and clutched the body in his arms reflexively.
“Ville!” Bam squealed, drunker than Ville had seen him in quite some time -- which was a quite a feat for the younger man. But that was Bam, constantly trying to outdo himself, even if it was subconsciously.
“Hi, BamBam.” His first smile of the night finally managed to weasel its way onto his face against his will when Bam looked up and offered him a grin that split his face nearly in two, and made his slightly glassy eyes sparkle like the stars above them. “What did you get into?” It was a question he didn’t really want the answer to but felt that he should ask it regardless.
“Everything!” Green eyes went wide, shocked that Bam could hit such a high note. A laugh bubbled past his lips at the juvenile state Bam digressed to when drunk. Ville took in Bam’s features and felt his heart clench. The flush in those cheeks and seemingly permanent smile pink lips were twisted up in broke the semblance of restraint Ville had on himself and he had to bite his own lip to the point of near blood draw to keep his body locked in place. Perfection was the word that whispered through the canticles of his mind and he agreed with himself, rather than mentally berating himself for the thought like he normally would. Oh, this wasn’t going to end well.
“Well, I think that’s enough for the night. Don’t you?”
“Maaaybe.” Bam said, in a sing-song voice that confirmed that it was indeed time to tuck him into bed for the night before something disastrous happened. But even as Ville moved to gather his friend into his arms, he wasn’t sure on whose behalf the disaster would be made.
“Yeah, bedtime for sure. Come on, Bam.” Ville wrapped his arm around Bam’s waist and instantly Bam’s own strong arm draped around thin shoulders, relinquishing all control and putting his trust blindly in the only man who, outside of his own CKY and Jackass cliques, had ever earned it.
The moment Ville took a step towards the doors though, was the same moment Bam’s legs decided that it would be a good idea to stop working and so down they went, in a heap of tangled limbs, Bam giggling even as he smashed down on top of Ville, effectively crushing all the air from the skinnier man.
“Get off.” Ville grumbled when he realized that Bam was making no attempts to remove himself and so he shoved him off of his body, unable to bring himself to feel bad for the poor treatment when Bam simply laughed some more. This time, once Ville got to his feet and brushed himself off, rather than trying to help Bam walk he simply stooped and gathered the younger man fully into his arms.
“Hey, Ville!” Bam slurred, wrapping his arms around Ville’s neck without really thinking about the action.
“Hi, Bam.” The words were clipped as Ville turned his head away so that the scent of liquor mingled with the sweetness of Bam’s breath could not test his willpower further than the weight and warmth snuggled against his front already was.
“I like your shirt, Willa.”
Ville allowed his eyes to drift to that cherubic face as Bam lifted a hand to trail his fingers down the front of the cotton t-shirt, causing a poorly suppressed shiver to run the length of his spine. An action that, thankfully, went unnoticed by Bam.
Rather than speak and reveal the tremor he knew would be in his voice, Ville nodded and pushed his way through the glass door and back into the noise of the party that, apparently, was still going strong despite the ungodly hour. The lack of a verbal answer and the assault of the noise on ears attuned to silence from time on the patio did little, if anything at all, to deter Bam from his happy drunken prattle.
“It looks better on you than me. I feel like a pussy wearing my own name on things. But don’t tell Element and Adio, ‘kay? I don’t think they’d ‘preciate it….Oh, I know what I’m gonna do!” Bam bounced in Ville’s arms, causing the older man to grunt as he picked his way through the crowd, apologizing when Bam‘s feet to knocked a woman‘s drink out of her grasp and down the front of her dress. “I’m going to send all that shit with my name on it to you, you’ll rock it better than anyone!” Ville was having a hard time understanding Bam’s slur of words and settled for nodding as he finally maneuvered his way through the thick throng of people and stumbled into the hallway.
“What floor are…never mind. Do you have any objections to crashing in my room?” A giggle bubbled from Bam’s tantalizingly pink lips. “I thought not.”
**
“Come on, Bam, let go so I can get my damn key card.”
“No.”
Ville let loose a string of Finnish vulgarities and considered leaving Bam to sleep out in the hall. Thing was, when Bam became drunk out of his mind he had three basic moods: deliriously funny, dangerously angry, and outrageously clingy. There was no middle ground and it figured it would be the clingy mood Ville got burdened with. As it were, he’d almost happily deal with a pissed off Bam rather than a man insistent on snuggling as deeply into his chest as humanly possible. With the Finnish equivalent of “fuck my life”, Ville resorted to something that had always worked when Linde fell into a similar mood once too much Jack Daniels was involved.
Giving one last unheeded warning to release him, Ville dropped his arms that had been supporting Bam’s body, expecting that the other man would release his neck like Linde would have and fall to the floor. But no, that move was a huge failure, as Bam simply scrambled to wrap his legs around Ville’s slim waist and tighten his arms around that pale neck. Growling, Ville left Bam to cling to him as he took the chance to dig into his pockets for that damn card, bracing one hand on the wall to keep upright.
With a relief he never knew a piece of plastic could cause, Ville grabbed the card and jammed it harshly into the slot, ready to give anything to get away from Bam and the intimate position Ville felt them to be in. The American probably had no idea that he was driving his friend almost insane with the feel of his groin pressed to the heartagram tattoo on Ville’s abdomen. Inaudible swears fell from Ville’s lips as he shoved the door open and threw himself inside, reaching up to untangle Bam’s arms from his neck and force him to drop to the floor.
“Owwww,” The skater whined as he rubbed his ass. “You’re a prick.” Ville wasn’t paying any attention to him as he whirled away and headed for the bathroom for some much needed alone time. “Wait!”
Don’t look back, don’t look back, ignore him! What little rational thought he had left screamed at him. “Ville….”
Damnit!
Bam’s pathetic call forced him to stop and turn reluctantly around. “I don’t feel good.”
“Vittu…are you going to throw up?” He approached Bam warily, waiting for the answer. If it were a yes, he was going to throw the garbage pail at his friend and let him deal with it himself - Ville Valo simply didn’t do vomit. It wasn’t in his contract and there was no way, even for Bam, he would stick around if he knew someone was going to upchuck.
“I don’t think so, but my belly hurts, Willa.” Bam turned big blue eyes on him, raising his arms in the air like a toddler would when wanting to be picked up. His resolve not only weakened but shattered entirely and, with a sigh, Ville tugged his friend up from the floor and scooped him into his arms for the second time that night. “Thank you.” Bam whispered as he pressed his face into the soft skin of Ville’s neck, showing a vulnerability that he would have denied existed within him had he been sober.
“You’re welcome, sweetheart. Here, I’m going to put you down in the bed and go find some pain killers for when you wake up tomorrow. Okay?” When Bam nodded Ville lowered the heavier man as gently as he could into the unmade bed, glad that he had banned housekeeping from his room for the couple days he’d been staying there. Leaving Bam to situate himself, Ville grabbed his last cigarette from his back pocket and tossed the now empty pack in the middle of the floor as a reminder to get more as he made his way into the bathroom and to his toiletry bag, rummaging around in it for those tiny life saving pills. “Gotcha.” He shook the small white bottle and grabbed a Dixie cup from the sink, filling it with water and entering the main room again to set the two items down on the bedside table.
Having expected Bam to have passed out moments after his head hit the pillow, he was mildly surprised to see the younger man sitting up Indian style in the center of the mattress. “Bam?” He placed the pill bottle and cup down and cast his friend a confused look. “Are you alright?” A sharp shake of the head sent mocha curls dancing across his face in a way that made Bam seem much younger than he truly was, that drunken vulnerability clear as a bell in the depths of his baby blues. “What’s wrong?” It was natural to want to comfort his friend so Ville didn’t even notice that he’d tucked a strand of Bam’s hair behind an ear as he stood before him, looking down with a watchful eye, trying to figure out what was wrong with the American.
“I think I‘m gonna-” Bam’s face paled and emerald eyes widened, knowing what was coming next.
“Bam, no!” But he couldn’t get away fast enough and, with a lurch and a gag, Bam emptied the entire contents of his stomach on himself, the floor, and a very repulsed musician.
Ville looked down at the soiled Adio shirt with the name of the man he wanted nothing more than to throw off the balcony and grimaced, lifting his cigarette to his lips to take a hard enough drag that it hollowed his cheeks. Before he could say anything though, Bam gagged and gave a dry heave that had Ville fighting to keep his own stomach from rebelling. Lowering his hand from his lips, he cast Bam a look of pure disbelief and mild you’ve got to be fuckin’ kidding me. His hands itched to strangle the pasty looking male on the bed. But rather than choking Bam, Ville clenched his teeth and took a healthy pull from his smoldering cigarette.
“Know what…you can sleep in that.” He gagged as the smell of the vomit permeated the air.
Dropping the cigarette to the ground and crushing it into the carpet, far past caring, he ran for the bathroom, stripping before he even crossed the threshold as Bam finally passed out on the bed.
Remind me again what I see in him…. He thought to himself as he jumped into the shower, squeaking when the still cold spray hit his back. He scrubbed until his skin was raw and then washed some more, still feeling as if he had Bam all over him. After he was sure he was clean, he toweled off and wandered back into the bedroom and over to his small messenger bag for a clean shirt and boxers.
Feeling much better, he looked to the bed and pity swelled in his eyes; as much as he wanted to, he simply couldn’t leave Bam sleeping like that.
As quickly as possible while touching as little as possible, Ville stripped his younger friend to his boxers and tossed the soiled clothes into a corner. He turned back to the bed and sighed to himself as a sudden wave of longing hit him hard enough to make he knees go weak. “Damnit, Bam,” he whispered, a bittersweet smile tweaking at his lips. “If only you knew the things you did to me.” Ville smoothed the back of his hand down a soft cheek. “Maybe someday I’ll tell you….Maybe someday you‘ll know how much I love you.”
Ville reluctantly extracted his hand and moved to lay himself on the couch, unwilling to submit himself to the torture of sharing a bed with Bam tonight. He fell so quickly into the arms of sleep that he never had a chance of noticing something crucial... He never saw radiant the pair of radiant blues slipping open or the secret smile that emerged on a boyish face.
Nor was his hearing keen enough to catch the sound of a heart speeding up and the whispered confession that was lost in the darkness.