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Eros vs Thanatos:
Kill me I begged and love said «No»
Brandon woke up.
Well… 'Woke up' might not be the right term. 'Regained his consciousness' would be more appropriate.
Damn it. Let's start all over again.
Brandon opened his eyes and saw a beam of light piercing through a gap between dense curtains of a color that one could call either boring official-grey or color of a wet asphalt, depending on one's outlook on style and fashion.
"Ok. I guess, I'm not home" he realized looking at the curtains. He tried to move his arm. His left arm, quite the same as his left leg were fondly embracing a folded blanket. The bed sheets were fresh and crispy, a mattress was a bit too hard and his head was drowning in a softness of a pillow. In addition, it was quiet, far too quiet – no one was stamping, rattling or shouting – "Not home, for sure".
However, this thought didn't scare Brandon at all.
Actually, the strangest thing about his awakening was the fact that he felt very good. So good, that he even rubbed his cheek gently against the blanket one more time, hugging it tenderly and moaning slightly from a strange languor that filled him from the inside.
"What the hell did I eat yesterday? … What the hell did I actually do… last night?"
He drank alcohol before, of course he did, and of course he realized that yesterday he must have gone a bit over the plank with the booze. That was not the first hangover he has ever had. Usually though, in such cases he would wake up with a heavy head, dry lips and a terrible mixture of thirst, guilt and universal sense of misery that would not leave him until the end of the day.
Today, though, he felt good.
Well of course, his head did feel a bit funny, but the pleasant warmth that was covering him head to toes reminded him an effect of a little thing called "extasy". Brandon did not recall taking any stimulators of such kind yesterday, and in fact - he felt far too good even for that stuff.
"Mmm…Good morning blanket," he smiled at his pathological hangover euphoria and gave the blanket a smooch.
"Good morning, Bammy," he imitated in a high piercing voice the way his bedding accessory could answer him.
He laughed at himself: what an idiot he must look like! For an unknown reason he felt ecstatic and he didn't even get a morning wood yet. Well now, when he actually thought of it…
"C'mon, Bam, it's time to get up… ouch!"
His head answered him with a sharp sting of pain at the sudden change of position. Oh yes, he definitely underestimated his condition. It felt as if a metallic hoop squeezed his head. Damn it, and he thought he might skip some of the pleasurable attributes of hangover this time. Guess he will have to pay for the good things in life, as usual.
Bam set up on the edge of the bed and found himself dressed in jeans, a t-shirt and a hoodie. He has not even taken off his shoes. He placed his elbows on his knees, put his poor paining head on his hands and tried to focus on the view in the gap between the curtains.
With a noticeable delay, his toxic-assaulted brain registered his location: "London, hotel, my room."
His head felt a bit lighter now so he stretched out to the bedside table for a half-empty bottle of water and found his pass to the HIM concert lying next to it. Brandon took it in his hands, slowly and joyfully remembering events of the past day, starting from the very beginning of its most pleasurable part.
From the very moment he attended the gig of his favorite band. He came there all the way from Amsterdam, all by himself. Fairly speaking, in Amsterdam, where he was participating in a skating contest with his friends, he went to a gig of the very same band as well, due to the fact that he happened to become their fan.
The first gig only worsened the situation, which is why he took his board, credit cards and passport and set off to London. The next thing Brandon remembered was the fact that he did not just attend the gig there, he actually took courage to meet the band personally, covering by the fact that he works on MTV.
He had to see Him in person.
Brandon wouldn't forgive himself for blowing the chance. Of course, it was risky: the sweet and magical image of his idol ever so beautifully drawn by his imagination could turn out to be a fiction and the Idol himself could turn out to be a universal jerk and kick him out, tell him to fuck off or just ignore him completely. Actually, the scariest perspective was not even the ignoring. What if the Idol would conceive a desire to talk to him? Brandon had no idea what he could possibly tell the Idol.
He took a few shots of vodka with Red Bull to run faster, to get out of breath and not let himself change his mind. He flashed his MTV pass to the security and stopped to catch his breath only after he did the scariest thing he could:
Brandon knocked on the door.
His heart was jumping out of his chest and his blood was pumping in his temples. Oh man, he must be red as Don Vito after a treadmill session.
AAAARGH! DAMN IT, BAMMY! THERE MIGHT NOT BE A CHANCE LIKE THIS EVER AGAIN!
The young man jerked the door open, closed his eyes, put on a Hollywood smile and barked in a pathologically optimistic voice:
"HI GUYS! I'M BAM MARGERA FROM A NEW TV SHOW ON AMERICAN MTV! YOU HEARD OF ME!"
Only after that, he opened his eyes.
Right near the entrance of the dressing room stood a big guy, their drummer, making a fierce impression on his kind, round face and covering most of the view with his massive figure. This must be Gas. To the right from Gas, leaning on a table stood their blond guitarist Linde. He was thin, with a pointed nose, dressed in some tight-fitting girly shirt. Linde was elegantly holding a high glass of champagne in his hand and was languorously sipping from it from time to time, looking like a genuine wine taster. To add up to the image: the guy had magnificent rastafarian dreadlocks. Bam could not help but cry happily:
"Jah, man," the blond guy answered him melancholically, without a smile and continued with the champagne tasting.
Somewhere from behind Linde's back, he heard a burst of laughter and a couple of greetings that made the guys in front step aside. Bam made two steps forward.
To his view appeared the reason he was here.
The Idol. The God. The hard story that brought him here like a complete idiot.
Bam lost the gift of speech at once. The Idol lounged on a couch, his legs spreading at least one and a half meters in front of him. The divinity looked drowsy and indifferent as if he was sleeping with his eyes open. His arms were crossed on his chest, a live cigarette was clenched in his teeth and judging by the vacant look on his face, his thoughts were completely lost in the depths of subconscious. If it wasn't for the cigarette smoke that the divinity was exhaling throught his nostrils from time to time, Bam would have though the subject is not alive at all.
"HI! I'M BAM MARGERA FROM 'VIVA LA BAM'!" Brandon repeated cheerfully.
"I am Mikko Paananen," the divinity said in a low deep voice with a dead-serious, imperturbable look on his face. Mige to his right did not turn a hair. "And he is Ville…"
"…Valo," Mige nodded and took a gulp of beer.
Bam laughed boisterously at the scene.
"Ha! Ha-ha-ha-ha-ha! Nah, I'm not buying that," he said. "You are Ville."
"Gr-r-reetings," said his Idol in a forced Scandinavian accent with an exaggerated "r" for a more comic effect.
"Well now… What is it you want, my dear? " Mige asked him tenderly.
"I ran out of beer. Do you have some?"
"Of course," to Bam's surprise the Idol did not show any signs of irritation, quite the opposite, he promptly got up from the couch with the grace of a young giraffe stumbling over its own feet and in two steps of his long legs reached the refrigerator with a clear door, filled with bottles and cans of all kinds. Looking at that, Bam got worried for a moment that Ville will stumble and fall, but everything went just fine. The idol opened the fridge and handed to him two cans of beer. The cigarette that was still clenched in his teeth didn't seem to cause him a slightest discomfort. The idol was dressed in black t-shirt, a plum-colored leather jacket and a pair of heavily worn flare jeans. He wore some peeled girly nail polish, his black sparkling eye shadows were spread all around his face and his curly hair, wet from sweat, looked disarranged and messy. His reddened lips were holding a cigarette, yet the smoke didn't trouble him at all.
He looked like a freaking Glam-Rock God! And Bam didn't even give a thought yet about his tall (the guy was taller then him) figure of a female top-model and his long tightly covered thighs, thin yet feminine in some inexplicable way. Oh wait, he did.
For some reason, Brandon got struck by an earnest desire to have a smoke. He left his pack somewhere in his bag, but he didn't dare to ask the guys to lend him cigarettes as well. The Idol took his confusion for a silent proposal to continue, and passed him two more cans. Four cans of beer just wouldn't fit into his hands, so Brandon had to literally hug the cans to keep hold of them. He could stand like this forever.
"Anything else?" the Idol inquired politely.
"I love you," Bam said. In fact, he wanted to say that he loves the band, as in, all of them, "I love you guys, the band", but the treacherous English language, which he forgot, despite being a native speaker, has formulated his thoughts not the best way, it seems.
The dressing room fell quiet. The only sound breaking the strained silence was a barely audible low frequency rumble transmitted by the concrete construction of the building - some band was still performing at the festival.
The Idol gracefully took the cigarette out of his mouth and quite as gracefully exhaled the smoke through his nose:
"What a peculiar pick-up line," he said in a tender tone, a bit too kind and carrying for Bam's liking. In Bam's world that was the way one would talk to a retarded person. "I shall try it with ladies."
"Damn," at this moment Bam wished the earth could have swallowed him up at the entrance to the dressing room, so he wouldn't have to be in this awkward situation right now. "Guys… Come on!" he shook his head in regret and despair. "I said I LOVE YOU! I'm your biggest fan on the other side of the ocean… And probably on this side as well! The gig was awesome and I came here to say you guys are fucking great, super cool, you are the shit!"
The band burst out laughing at Bam, and the situation he got himself into. At once, the atmosphere in the dressing room lightened, becoming simple and friendly, and despite the beads of nervous perspiration that Brandon felt on his neck, he knew the disaster passed by.
"Awwwww," the Idol drawled very disappointedly in a voice of a true diva (assuming, of course, the diva could have such a deep bass voice), puffing his lips and letting one more stream of smoke. That amused his colleagues even more, so the end of his phrase: "What a disillusion. And I thought I might have plans for the evening," got drowned in a joyful roar of laughter.
Bam stood there hugging the beer and felt that "Awwwww" tickling his stomach deeply and velvety, echoing there and resonating in a thin space between his balls and his asshole, making both of the above mentioned tighten. Getting a boner right here would be the limit, especially considering the fact that there was no way he could cover himself and hide it. And no, letting beer out of his hands was not an option.
Besides, Brandon couldn't grasp Ville's reaction to him. Just a moment ago, near the fridge, he was so polite and obliging, yet now he coldly turned his back on him and returned to the couch, covering the distance in two long strides. He fell on the couch indifferently, rubbed his eyes wearily not giving a damn about damaging the remains of his make-up, yawned, moaned and set off the cigarette.
His friend Mige yawned loudly as well.
"All in all… guys…" continued Bam to fill the awkward silence. "I have your album… Like a hundred copies of it actually, and I love every single song from it, and that never happened to me before. You are super fucking awesome! Thank you! What you do is the real rock'n roll! The ideal rock'n roll!"
"Thank you, man," Mige said and sneakily kicked Ville on the leg. Believe it or not, the other guy has lost the connection with the outside world in a matter of seconds and obviously was far away in his thoughts yet again.
"Ouch?" Ville started out of his unconsciousness.
"Unfreeze, you, moron…" Mige said kindly, even tenderly, in a father-like manner. He poured the remains of the beer from his can into a glass standing on the table nearby.
"Why am I always supping from a can like a hobo?" He asked himself out loud.
"What cha want?" Ville asked him with a note of intimacy in his voice that only happens between old friends.
"The dude thanked you, what?"
"Oooooooooooh…" Ville moaned very controversially, either tired or self-conscious, Bam couldn't tell for sure. Bam, personally, associated the intonations he heard in Ville's voice with sexual experiences. Bam, however, allowed the possibility that he was the only one going through those experiences right now.
"Sorry man, he's a nice guy, but you know, freezes from time to time," Mige said in an apologetic tone. "And usually unexpectedly."
Ville giggled shyly.
All of a sudden, he started looking Bam's age. Everything was the same, the make-up was still there, and he didn't even change the pose, but the silly giggling and confusion on his face, as well as unexpected warmth showing through in his unceremonious speech suddenly sorted things out.
"Well, yeah, sorry, Bam."
"Well, yeah, no problem," Brandon hoped his eyes didn't shine with happiness in the darkness of the room. He remembered his name. "No problem… Are you tired?" Oh god, why did he sound so gay today? "I mean, of course, you must be fucking tired…" Oh come on Bam! Don't mention fucking! Keep it easy on your boner!
"I need to drink something!" A light of thought switched on in Ville's eyes. "To hell with sleep."
Mige nodded in agreement and yawned.
At his own risk, Bam made a step forward and held out a can of beer to Ville.
"Didn't you come here because you were out of beer?" Ville giggled .
"I came here to meet you guys," Bam said honestly.
Ville giggled again.
That encouraged Bam a little, so he decided to test his luck:
"Do you mind if I drink it here?"
"Oh come on, sit down already…" Waved at him Mige. "…standing here like… Like you know what."
For some reason, Ville found the joke hilarious and his laughter turned out to be so funny that Bam burst out laughing as well. He looked around for a good place to sit and was thinking to play fool and swiftly take the place next to Ville, who set straight back on the couch resting his elbows on his long lean knees, leaving unoccupied most of the couch, when someone's hand lied heavily on his shoulder:
"Excuse me," someone said and moved him aside, tactfully yet insistently. Bam turned around and saw a slim guy with a neat black beard, dressed in a see-through top and leather pants. The character elegantly walked past him and landed on the couch right next to Ville.
Ville didn't object. Moreover, when the fellow gloomily, without a shadow of a smile sat tight-to-tight with him as though claiming his ownership, Ville reacted in an original way. He smiled at the guy, and when the other put on an even more offended look and pursed his lips, he playfully blew him a kiss. An innocent, harmless gesture, but Bam for some reason didn't like it at all. Mige seemed trustworthy and this fellow didn't. In addition, the fellow's nipples were sticking up provocatively, clearly seen through the fabric of his top. What a faggot.
The faggot started talking, demonstratively in Finnish, pretending Bam wasn't there at all. Ville heard him out seriously, considered it for a moment, scratched his nose and turned away without saying a word. Here goes nothing, thought Bam and sat down right where he was standing, crossing his legs at Ville's feet in a Turkish manner.
"He-e-ey!" Ville laughed . Bam's unexpected maneuver caught him by surprise. Also, they were almost face to face now, Ville's face a bit higher, Bam's face a bit lower, and both of them seemed pretty happy with the matter of things.
"Hey," Bam echoed, his grayish-blue eyes shining lovingly on his glowing face. He was looking tenderly at Ville, who was clearly fighting back a dawning smile.
"This is Zoltan," Ville said suddenly, pointing at the guy next to him.
"Bam," Bam said and stretched out his hand for a handshake. Zoltan leaned back on a couch and waved his hand at him form afar. Bam got puzzled, but then he looked at Ville's face. His eyes were turned to the floor, and with his hand he was zealously rubbing corners of his lips and his jaw, up and down, trying to hide a sneering smile.
"He is tired," Mige said in a friendly tone.
"Because he was working hard," Ville's voice was so gentle, so tender, it was like an accident touch of a velvet fabric to lips. His indecently caring voice together with his nostrils inflating mockingly and a dark glance, which was so quick, that Bam only noticed it because he was watching Ville's face without taking his eyes of him, told Bam a lot more than any words could.
Something was wrong here. Ha-ha-ha.
Zoltan, even though he didn't see Ville's expression, nevertheless glared at him, practically burning him with his stare. At least trying to do so. His attempts were clearly useless, as Ville didn't pay a slightest attention to them - he was looking lovingly at Bam:
"Tell me about your show, Bam," of course, Bam understood that this maternal tenderness and care was due to some internal games within the band, but losing the chance would be foolish.
He recounted his story to them, telling that he is a professional skater, and that he is filming his show called "Jackass" where he plans to do the most ridiculous, absurd, shocking and stupid stunts and tricks together with his friends. He told them that they have already filmed the pilot episode and of course, it caused a lot of racket, but they got signed with MTV and he is really happy about it.
"So you're a skater, cool," Ville reached into his pocket for a new cigarette. He stuck it in his mouth, then lit up and took a whiff with delight. Bam was watching the process, and for some reason was finding it highly sexual. Meanwhile, he was already two beers down, so his shyness faded into the background:
"Willah, can I have one of those as well? I left mine in the bag with the skate out there," he waved his hand in the direction of the corridor.
"Yes, here," Ville gave him a pack of cigarettes, - "your skate?"
"Well," Bam said. "Mine, yeah. Why?"
"Nah, just," shrugged Ville. "I used to skate as well, do you remember, Mige?"
"I don't remember you at all. Who the hell are you?" Mige grinned.
They both started giggling merrily.
"And a lighter?" Bam asked.
Ville didn't bother complying with his request, he just took the cigarette out of his mouth and pressed it against Bam's cigarette.
"Hallelujah!" Bam exclaimed. "The first fucking communion from the Idol!" He finally dared to say it out loud. Ville giggled, and Mige as well, covering his face with the palm of his hand.
"Black Sabbath bless you, bro," Ville spoke in a pompous bass.
Bam drew in and breathed out the smoke of the sacred cigarette.
"I'll keep the cigar-butt," he said. "And I will always wear it, as a talisman!"
"As an amulet," Ville suggested eagerly. "For protection."
"Protection from what?"
"From a personal life. What kind of a mentally stable girl would come to you closer than 5 meters?"
"Ha-ha-ha-ha. Well, I already have a girlfriend," Bam said. "We've been friends since middle school. She's already used to all kind of shit."
"Mmm… How sweet," said Ville very uninterested. Bam thought that he probably shouldn't have said that… He thought mentioning his girlfriend would dispel any possible suspicions that he would woo Ville. He had to look cool in his eyes. And concerning his not-so-clear intentions towards Ville… Well, that wasn't written on his face, was it?
"So you said you could ride?"
"Yes, in the past tense," Ville said sarcastically. "It was a long-long time ago."
"Oh come on, you were into skating, really? You must be lying."
"Who, me?!" Ville looked astonished. "I never lie."
Mige roared with laughter, Zoltan rubbed his face.
"Wanna try? My board is right here, in the corridor!" He was a complete idiot, of course, for pulling Ville by his hand, but oddly, Ville got up and said:
"Well yeah, why not…Mige…"
"If Seppo comes… We'll be outside, nearby."
"Alright," Mige said, he pretty much understood everything already. "Anyway, I don't think we'll stay here for too long…"
Overwhelmed by the unexpected success, Bam pulled Ville along with him by the hand, as if he was a girl in a kindergarten. The funniest thing was the fact that Ville didn't show even the slightest sign of resistance. They ran down the stairs towards the exit, Bam grabbed his belongings and dashed out of the gates of the concert venue.
"Look, here's a nice place, I found it today!" He threw his skate on the asphalt, jumped on it and… turned into a higher creature, which, was apparently beyond the laws of gravity. He sped up, jumped onto the marble border, sliding it on the side of the wheel, landed with an impressive flip and went for the second lap.
Brandon always skated well, but now for a completely understandable reason he literally felt wings grow behind his back. And that was no wonder, because Ville didn't take his eyes of him. Brandon was sure as never before that this time he won't fall or stumble. He just couldn't do so. He was glowing with a joyful smile, speeding around his tall dark sun like a crazy rocket. And he managed to achieve what he wanted to: the Idol was damn impressed by his skating. He got so over-excited that he even asked Bam for his board and tried to ride it for a bit. He was quite good at first actually!
The situation looked so surreal, that Bam had to pinch himself. Perhaps, this was the way his most precious erotic dream could start: with the Him, the Ville Valo, asking him for a skateboard to ride and erotically riding the fuck off into the sunset. This would most probably bring Bam to the state of nocturnal emission.
The real Ville failed with the "erotically riding the fuck off into the sunset" part, though. Just when he gathered a decent speed, a metallic railing blocked his way. Giggling and swearing, he grabbed the railing with his hands, the skateboard slipped out from under his feet and flew somewhere down the stairs. Following the momentum, Ville elegantly somersaulted over the railing and hit his back hard on the ground. He tried to get up, but bend over with laughter, enraptured by his phenomenal dexterity.
Bam almost shit his pants, but Ville's cheerful laugh calmed him down a little, so he started laughing as well. In the end, it really looked hilariously funny. Mige, Linde, Gas, Zoltan and Seppo, who were coming out of the door caught the scene in its culmination.
Seppo cursed loudly. Mige ran up to Ville at the same time with Bam.
"Fuck, are you alive, idiot?"
"Alive," Ville responded suffocating with laughter. He grabbed the railing with his one hand and habitually stretched out his other hand to Mige, so he could help him to stand up, ignoring Bam's presence completely. To cover his disappointment Bam ran down the stairs to pick up the goddamn skateboard.
"You better… stick to singing, bro," Mige said to Ville.
"Or stick to drinking," Linde and Gas came up to them as well.
"Naaaaah…" Ville said. "You don't understand. I almost realized I was into sports here."
"But your promising, turbulent career was treacherously stopped by a metallic railing, that cut short your flight up the league," Migesuggested , while Ville was trying to brush himself up. "That always happens to the most gifted of sportsmen."
"Seppo said that if you rascal have survived, he will kill you," Linde added.
Seppo was very busy discussing something with the promoter, and that must have saved them all. They decided to go somewhere for a drink and almost forgot about Bam, who caught up with them on the corner of the street as if nothing had happened.
"Sorry," Ville hugged him by the way, and for that Bam could forgive and understand a lot more than a thrown away skateboard. "Will you join us?"
"Ville, did you ever get a 'No' for an answer?"
"A couple of times, maybe even three times…" Ville answered him in a dead-serious tone. "But the details of those denials are far too intimate for me to discuss here. And you won't upset me, will you?"
Brandon giggled silly, glad it was dark outside so no one could notice his face turn red. The thoughts about Ville's intimate denials began to stir curiously in his head, so he hastened the answer:
Then Mige joined their conversation and they started discussing the other bands participating in the festival. And after that they got wasted.
That, and maybe a couple more hours in the bar were the last things Brandon could recall from yesterday's evening. He also remembered that when the other guys went to bed, he and Ville decided to continue the evening in some other place. And after that – he could remember nothing. The most interesting part of the evening was buried in the Mariana Trench-sized
Where is Ville? Where did they go yesterday? How did they split up? What the hell they were doing last night? Bam gulped down the rest of the water and put the empty bottle on the bedside table. To his surprise, he found there a whole lot of new objects he wasn't aware of before.
"What's this?" He wondered looking at someone's pack of cigarettes, a lighter and a beermat from a pub. Well, the cigarettes and the lighter most likely belonged to Ville. The beermat was folded in two, had teeth marks on one side and was all crumpled and beer-stained. Nah, he couldn't remember this pub. Why the heck did he take this thing with him at all?
Bam took the little cardboard in his hands and his heart missed a beat. He saw there a line of strange numbers written with a dark marker, in a handwriting that he recognized at once. Brandon was sitting there looking at the line of numbers and only at the third minute of thinking it got to him that those must be the telephone number of Ville's hotel and the number of his room. He quickly dialed the number, worried that he slept for too long and the guys could have left the hotel already. Damn, please, please, please… Be there…
"Hey?" He whispered into the receiver tenderly, suddenly losing his voice.
"Good morning, thank you for calling to Human sacrifice incorporation, Satan speaking, how can I help you?"
"This is Willah?"
"This is Migah," Mige teased him. "Willah, someone wants you here," with these words he must have passed the phone to the other guy. Bam didn't do it on purpose, but sometimes he was so overwhelmed with emotions that the neat Scandinavian V-i-l-l-e just didn't happen, so he pronounced it the best way he could. Well, at least Ville understood who was calling by Mige's joke, so he was in a good mood when he picked up the phone.
"Hey, Bammy, how are you? Are you alive… dear?" Ville giggled .
"Oh, man!" There was so much pain in the exclamation that Ville couldn't help but laugh boisterously. "Tell me, what happened yesterday?"
"Yesterday was Friday," Ville said. "Where's my lighter?" He asked with a slight lisping because of a cigarette that was already in his mouth. Ville was probably talking to himself, but Bam was the one to answer his question:
"The grey one?"
"Well… I have it here, apparently," he said. "And your cigarettes as well. But I have no idea why I have it."
"We'll leave it to your conscience," Ville giggled and said something in Finnish. He was probably asking Mige for a lighter. Then he said thank you in Finnish. Then he lit up and inhaled the first whiff of his cigarette with delight. "I got you drunk. Heh-heh-heh-heh."
"I hope you didn't take advantage of my virginity?" Bam decided it was his turn to flirt a bit.
"We'll leave it to my conscience," Ville snapped .
"Let's go for a ride," Bam said .
"I'll be riding today with some guys, wanna watch? You seemed to like it."
"Mmm," Ville went into thinking exhaling the smoke loudly. "Ehhh…"
Bam had no idea why he suddenly decided to call Ville with him to the skater's competition. He didn't even know whether Ville wants to meet him ever again. Well of course, yesterday in a pub, everything was great, but who knows, maybe after sobering up Ville forgot that he wanted to pursue a career in skating sport.
"We have a promo at 2 o'clock," Ville said .
Somewhere in the background, Mige was mumbling something loudly in an alien language.
"He says that if it wasn't for me and my imbecile friends, who call at the crack of a dawn, we could have slept like babies for at least two more hours," Ville translated kindly to Bam.
"I'm sorry," Bam said in a whisper, because he lost his voice out of emotions. "I was afraid I was too late… What if you have left and me… And you…" he couldn't speak because of a lump in his throat. He felt he could burst into tears right now because of this fear and his own silliness, for showing his emotions so quickly and obviously. The pause dragged and he almost decided to hung up and go cry somewhere in the corner like his girlfriend Missy on PMS.
"I was waiting for your call," Ville whispered .
Brandon fell in love before in his life. He thought he did. But never before he felt his soul ascending from the deepest depths of burning hell to the seventh heaven in just six words. He fell back on the bed, grabbing his burning face with his hand, fucking hell, he couldn't find any fucking words…
"Heh-heh-heh," Ville's cheerful voice cut off his premature orgasm. "Mige just said I'm a homo."
Bam fell flat on his back speechless.
"Ha-ha," he said sadly.
"Nah," Ville said. "How do you imagine me walking there with you among those skaters with my fucking make-up on and shit? I don't really feel like explaining everyone I'm a fucking rock star from the homeland of Rudolf the red-nosed reindeer."
"So… don't put on your fucking make-up maybe?" Bam suggested reasonably, and then added all of a sudden. "You are beautiful anyway."
"Ah, you just didn't see," Ville brushed him away. "And… there's another thing… We're leaving tonight," Ville said suddenly turning serious. "The train to Nottingham is at 9:45 pm."
"Do you have a gig there tomorrow?" Bam asked him mournfully, falling from Heaven back to Hell again.
"At what time?"
"In the evening, in a club, if there will be at least fifty idiots who would come there to see us… heh-heh-heh."
"Then why are you going there tonight?" Bam asked in a dull voice.
"Why don't you rise that question to Seppo?" Ville asked him in his turn.
"It's like a two-hour ride from here…"
"Two and a half hour," Ville corrected him .
"Then why are you taking an overnight train?" – Bam didn't give up.
"Management moves in mysterious ways," Ville said.
"And what are you going to do there the whole time before the gig?"
"Huh…" Ville lit up a second cigarette it seems, probably to help himself to find the words. "Damn…"
"Damn what?" Bam dared to mock him .
"Man," Ville exhaled in despair. "You are putting a finger into the sore."
"Ha. Okay. I got you. Look… and what if… like… you know… for example… What if you could stay in London for one more night?" Bam had no idea where this impudence came from, he just wondered whether there was a place in his body where it all has been stored before.
"I can't. We have to check out of the hotel today," Ville said. "And Seppo will tear me apart for the train ticket."
"I'll buy you a ticket tomorrow morning," Bam said. Then he thought a little and added: "I will accompany you to Nottingham tomorrow."
"Don't you have a flight to catch tomorrow?"
"I'll get back in time."
Bam pressed on, not to let Ville decline his offer out of politeness:
"You can sleep in my room… I have a big room… a good one…"
"A good one, indeed. I was there," Ville said pensively. "I carried you there yesterday after you passed out…"
At this moment, Brandon began to understand the magic behind his unexpected and totally inexplicable morning ecstasy.
"Did I remember the address?" He asked softly and carefully in a gentle and tender voice.
"No," Ville answered him just as gently and tenderly. "You were telling me a different hotel name and address each time. Three times, to put it more precisely."
"Fuck…" Bam covered his face with his hand yet again. "I'm sorry."
"Never mind, shit happens," Ville said and giggled to himself. "After that I decided not to trust your words anymore, searched you pockets and found a card of your hotel…"
"Oh God, dude, I owe you big time…" breathed Brandon.
"I'll remind you of this at the suitable moment…" Ville giggled.
"This won't repeat today, I promise," Bam said in a plaintive voice.
Ville kept quiet.
"Well, anyway, if anything happens, you'll have to carry me to our room," Brandon didn't know what got into him, he really must have been still drunk from yesterday. He didn't have a slightest idea what exactly he wanted to achieve by inviting Ville to his room. He wasn't even sure whether he wanted to achieve anything in particular at all. He just wanted Ville to say yes to him, to agree to pass his time with him. The very thought that he might spend the next night with Ville was driving him crazy. He didn't even put anything sexual in the idea. Just hang out together, drink and talk to each other. It seems he was ready to cum just thinking about it, - "Oh come on, Wille, agree! Pretty please-please? Like really, what the hell you gonna do in Nottingham at 2 am? Sleep? Take a fucking bath and curl you hair before the gig?"
"Curl my hair? Bam you're even more perverted than I am…"
"There's a lot of stuff you don't know about me. I'm wanted in five States," Bam said threateningly and then laughed. "So what, are you coming?!"
"I have to ask Mige," Ville said very seriously, even sadly somehow. "If he can sleep at night without me… alone… in the bed… Mige, my dear, tell me… Can you get through the night without nightmares if I won't be there to hold you in your sleep… Heh-heh-heh-heh…"
Mige's incomprehensible but expressive tirade thundered in the background followed by Ville's Homeric laughter.
"What did he say?" Bam Inquired patiently.
"He said I could go wherever the hellishly fuck I want, as long as that means that he'll be able to sleep at least one night by himself," Ville chuckled. "You know, we've been sharing a room for such a long time now… Sometimes I feel like he is planning some kind of bodily assault against me. You know, to sneak on me at night while I'm sleeping and cut my throat or something… I'm afraid to close my eyes."
There was some unknown sound again, followed by Ville's laugh.
"He said my suspicions are well-grounded as he has a knife under his pillow."
Bam was lost for words. In fact, somewhere deep inside his heart… he wasn't so happy about Ville and Mige being so close. Judging by their jokes, they were really good friends… Truly close ones. On the other hand, Ville's frankness with Mige was tempting. So he is asking his best friend for permission to be friends with Bam, and that friend has nothing against it. This made everything that much easier for him.
"Of course, at first, everything was fine, we liked it that way, didn't we, Mige? We were as a single whole, as a unit at those moments, do you remember, my friend? You and I… through those dark and scary nights… alone in the room … together against the whole cruel world outside… Mige, why are you telling me "Die, you prick!" I may be not so fond of some of your habits as well… No, you fucking stay where you are… no, you said you wanted to sleep so lie back and fucking sleep. I'm not disturbing you. So now you don't want to sleep? Fuck me, you say? You know what? Fuck you! And no, I'm the first one going to the bathroom, I don't give a shit… Oh, and yeah… You snore!.. What did you say?! What?!"
The conversation switched to Finnish it seems, so Bam, unfortunately, couldn't understand the rest of the claims of each side, but he appreciated the show that Ville put up for him. He was trying to make him jealous… Mmm… How sweet. Brandon was lying on his back looking at the ceiling.
Tonight he will sleep in his bed. It doesn't even matter if anything happens between them or not. He will sleep in his bed tonight whether he wants it or not.
"What time should I pick you up from your promo, Willah?"
"At 5," 'Willah' said quickly.
They have spent the night together.
Exactly in that sense.
They got to know each other in the biblical sense, as Ville said. Bam didn't really expect everything to work out so easily and naturally, so he wasn't even that embarrassed.
As a result, they both have slept no more than two hours that night. Thank God, they managed to catch the morning train to Nottingham. Ville decided to freshen the nip right away, instead of taking his usual morning coffee, and after that, they've been drinking on the train as well, so they arrived to the city fairly drunk. Clinging to each other, they reeled their way along the platform to the main building of the station.
Bam felt desperate, as he suddenly realized that the best day of his life is going to come to its end right now, so he spent the whole way down the platform in tragic silence. Ville didn't make any attempts to start the conversation either, and Bam couldn't read or understand his emotions at all.
"Well...," they stopped at the stairs leading to the exit.
"I guess we're supposed to bid farewell... you'll miss your train back..." Ville said.
"The goddamn train..."
He had to figure out something quickly to not let the special thing that happened between them yesterday fade away in the alcoholic haze, to make it exist today. Bam had no idea, when he has managed to become such an insidious seducer.
"I need to take a piss, let's go find a john..."
"Ok, let's go."
However, instead of quietly doing his regular routine at the urinals, Brandon rapidly pushed his mate into the depths of a cubicle, latching the door behind them with a half-broken, suspiciously-looking doorknob from the Era of Richard the Lionheart's shithouses. What were they doing in a public toilet in the glorious city of Nottingham at noon? They were kissing tenderly. Brandon didn't know what got into him, maybe he hasn't sobered up yet from the past two days, but he had no idea what was happening to him.
He was pressing Ville's body against the wall, so they were both standing there like two idiots, spreading their legs over the bowl. Actually, he was the only one who stood like an idiot, because Ville's long legs clearly allowed him to do so without any discomfort, giving him all the necessary support. Bam felt like he was whacked out just for being able to feel his body next to him, to feel his smell, to feel him with every muscle of his own body, and to fuse with him in one special place...
Where?! In their fucking lips! They were kissing. Kissing and kissing. Slowly, gently, on the lips, holding each other tenderly by the neck. Bam run his finger through the guy's hair, forcibly, but gently pulling out his jaw, thrusting his tongue inside… oh no, please… please don't moan… fuck... holy shit, his moans were maddening... so honest and deep... ooooooh noo...
Bam was afraid of himself at this moment. He grabbed Ville by his hair, pulling his head back and covered his mouth with his hand. Ville sucked his middle finger into his mouth with pleasure. Bam was drunk with lust, the only thing he could see now were the swamp-green eyes with widely dilated pupils, looking at him as if he was the almighty God, the one who could give them everything. He didn't even feel what his friend's tongue and lips were doing to his finger, but he was sure to jerk off on it a couple of times sometime later.
Ville's legs were spread in different directions, and he hung, clasping his long arms on Bam's waist. He groaned into his hand and Brandon realized that he is going to die right there right now.
"Ah... you're driving me crazy," he croaked, understanding Ville's body language, picking up him under his waist with his both hands and returning him to the upright position.
"I love you," Ville moaned, grabbing back his mouth with his lips.
"What the fuck, why aren't we in some fucking bed somewhere," he hissed through his clenched teeth.
"Mmmm," the bastard slid even lower somehow, kneeling on the floor, hugging his waist and burrowing his face somewhere in his thigh. Bam grabbed him under the armpits, and brought him into the previous position with an effort. It wasn't because he was that heavy, but the whole construction was rather cumbersome by its nature and also was drunk as shit at the moment. Bam covered Ville's mouth with his lips, feeling how HE immediately began to respond to his kiss as if one touch could bring him back to life.
"You will come to visit me, right?" Bam whispered breaking away from the kiss.
Ville strained his face, his eyes, his lips, even his nostrils with obvious effort to make a grave countenance. Obviously, he had to sleep at least a few hours before the work, but it was also obvious to Bam that if he had such opportunity he wouldn't have been snuggling him right now in a smelly toilet of Nottingham station.
"Huh?" – Ville asked.
"I'll do anything for you," Bam exhaled. "Tell me what you want?"
"I want to sleep," Ville said with a painful honesty in his voice.
"I might be not the most experienced lover on both sides of the Atlantic Ocean, definitely," Bam said through his clenched teeth. "But I'm getting such a response for the first time..."
"It's only noon and we are already shit faced," Bam kissed Ville on the lips again, then again, then faster and faster until it caused them both to burst out laughing. "You have to work today, are you ok? I hope they won't kick you out," Brandon said caringly.
And then he dropped Ville on the floor. It was Ville's fault, because he just couldn't hold him up after the following phrase:
"And where the hell would they find another faggot, who could work for lesser money then me?"
"Shi-i-it," Bam bowed down laughing hellishly. He stepped back, giggling and wiping tears from his face... "Ha-ha-ha-ha-ha."
"Lift me up, arsehole," his new friend asked him naughtily. Bam was trying not to pay attention to the fact that Ville was actually making attempts to get up by himself, but the cramped cubicle, where they both couldn't really fit, and his long legs, and the fact that they were here together didn't really help. He just couldn't look at it, he was crying with laughter.
"You. Don`t fucking move, relax..." Bam advised in a businesslike manner. Ville obediently went limp in his arms.
At this very moment, Bam discovered a very unpleasant thing. The unpleasant thing was the understanding that he is not physically able to lift up the construction with the proud name of Ville Hermanni Valo.
"Oops," he said suffocating. "No, I was wrong, do something," Heck, he might've coped with the situation better, if it wasn't for the damn laughter smothering him because of whole state of affairs in general. "Shit, I dropped Ville Valo, hahaha, I epically dropped... the Ville Valo... In the fucking toilet..."
Ville wearily rested his head against the wall of the toilet cubicle.
"It was worse only in Netherlands," he croaked from the floor melancholically. "To cut off your legs or to take a crap with the door open..."
Bam howled like a wolf and bowed down:
"Open the door," Ville said.
"I'll try to pull myself out..."
"Oh God, Ville..."
And as ill luck would have it, the door was jammed. Well of course, maybe their brains were jammed, and not the door, but no matter how hard they tried they couldn't open neither one by one nor by uniting their efforts.
"You, old fucking cunt, you having some vaginism or something?" Ville asked the doorknob tenderly, trying to twist it and to open the door at the same time... Bam howled with laughter again. Of course, this didn't make him more useful to the society, but he couldn't even physically breathe.
"It got oooooverstimulated, hah-hah-hah," Bam couldn't take it any longer, so he slid down to the floor, landing on Ville's legs. He bowed down and buried his head into Ville's chest. He was shaking with laughter, because of all the mixed up emotions of this moment, because of the euphoria of their intimacy, warmth, and trust.
"You will be laughing right now, but I kinda got a crush on you truly - madly - deeply," Brandon said eagerly inhaling the smell of Ville's jacket and shirt.
"Rrrromantic," Ville said in his signature accent, philosophically throwing back his head and staring at the ceiling.
The door to the toilet slammed open.
Bam sat up in fright like a gopher, as if anyone could really catch or see them.
"Sir!" Ville snarled in a loud bass from under him. "HEY! SIR!"
"I'm sorry... are you… talking to me?" They heard an uncertain voice from behind the door.
"Please excuse me, sir," Bam found something endearing about the polite and beautiful English of his friend and sat down with his butt on his groin. "I feel terribly sorry for bothering you with my problem..." Bam shook his head admiringly and showed Ville his thumb up. "But it seems to me that the door knob is jammed from this side... I'll turn the lock and could you please be so kind to help me and just try to turn the knob from you side?"
"Of course, no problem, sir," a male voice said from the other side of the door.
"I'm turning the handle, sir," Ville said in a very polite tone, then he bared his teeth at Bam and encouraged him to do it with gestures. "And could you, please, try to twist it?"
Bam flashed his eyebrows, lifted his butt, unzipped and lowered his pants, and sat back on Ville's hips. Ville's face and gestures expressed the deepest approval of his maneuver.
The sir on the other side of the door was already eagerly plucking at the handle.
"Thank you, sir!" Ville said in a deep respectable voice, and Bam smiled innocently at the unknown gentleman, who was looking bewildered at his bare ass lying on top of Ville's crotch.
Well... in fact.
In fact, they didn't really make out the particular nuances of what he yelled running out of the toilet, besides the obvious fact that he saw. But there was no point in taking offence, therefore they both burst out laughing at their release and at the terror they caused to a respectable innocent citizen of the capital of Great Britain, by their show.
"Let me out of here," Ville said. Bam stood up and buttoned his pants, cheerfully giggling at Ville who was trying to crawl out of the cubicle on his all fours.
"Bro, you are the real punk," he chuckled, staring at Ville's exposed moving butt.
"Absofukinlutely," Ville said. He dragged himself to the sinks and with an effort of will put himself to a vertical position. At the second try. He slipped and almost fell on the first try, but Bam was so busy buttoning his pants (and this was another problem) that he hardly would have had time to catch the slowly and elegantly falling giraffe. However, Ville managed to regroup himself in the air and eventually landed on his ass melancholically.
At this moment, Bam realized that they might have had a few. Thank God, his pants have just succumbed. Bam came out of the cubicle, swaying a little, but on his own feet, and reached out his hand to Ville. Oddly enough, it was easier to do this maneuver in open space. Ville turned on the tap with cold water in full capacity, lying with his belly on the sink. Bam could do nothing but catch him by his waist and press his groin into his bulged butt.
"Are you alive?" his face was extremely sympathetic. Water was gushing out, his cock was nestled into Ville's butt, and Ville lay thoughtfully on the sink, watching the fucking running water and doing nothing. In a public toilet of Nottingham city station.
"I'm fine. Don't worry," Ville said without raising his eyes even in the mirror, he just set his ass on his dick more comfortably. "I'll drink coffee and be ok."
Bam understood that he could criticize Ville's position as long as he wanted, but he was unable to take off his own hands from his waist and, for example, stop trying to dry hump him. That is why, he suggested sympathetically:
"Maybe you should wash your face at least..."
"Mmm...yes," Ville said and reached out his tongue to the jet of water.
"No fucking way, don't try to blow the tap, who the fuck knows what kind of dicks were washed here!" Bam warned him. "You're such a... all right, you bastard, you win, I nearly jizzed my pants right now..."
"Oh yeah... I can feel your boneeer," Ville said happily. He finally coped with the stream without touching the tap and drank some water. "I feel it, ha-ha."
"And what did you expect to find there, I wonder" Bam was surprised. "Pussy with a propeller?"
Ville leaned on his elbow and drew back. Bam had to clutch the both side of the sink, on which his idol was laying, so to speak. He didn't want to miss a second of their interaction, he would never forgive himself.
The door opened, Ville and Bam simultaneously signaled the person at the door to fuck off with a universally known hand gesture of raising a third finger. Taking into account that one of them laid on the sink facedown under water stream, and the second one was rubbing his crotch against his ass, the passer-by hurried to get away from there as fast as possible. Bam thought for a few minutes and decided to help Ville…no, he would not dare to do so in regular circumstances, because he could get it wrong and punch him in the face, but because Ville was trying to go to sleep, sweetly sniffing right into the sanitary porcelain-faience, placing his folded hand under his cheek (lack of sleep with excess of alcohol obviously had its consequences)... Bam dared to wash his face. Ville didn't understand a shit, he just quietly allowed him to wash his face. He even meowed something expressing his encouragement. Bam nearly came into his pants again, nestling in bubbled butt of his friend, when Ville tried to kiss his palm.
"Let me bring you some coffee," he suggested.
"But don't go... I mean, don't creep away anywhere... without me..."
"Hah-hah-hah, shhhhh," Ville portrayed a snake.
"Hold on. I'll be back in a flash! White coffee?"
"As you wish."
Bam ran to the nearest vending machine... it seemed like it took a terribly long time for him to go there, find the money, and prepare a drink, but actually it took no more than five minutes. When he came back, Ville was smoking a cigarette, sitting on the countertop between the sinks.
"So what, Houston, do we have a problem?" Bam asked, coming in with a steaming paper cup of espresso.
"No... I guess… I think I feel better now..." Ville said in an almost sane voice.
They must have looked funny from a side. Ville, as a shit faced rock star, with dark shadows under his eyes, unhealthy pale, with sunken cheeks and with gnarled body, greedily smoking a cigarette and sipping a cheap disgusting black coffee, without any confusion about the fact that he does it in the toilet, and Brandon, who was so soft, round faced, gentle and madly in love, clinging hips and sinking his teeth into the shoulder of Ville's leather jacket.
Bam stared at the wall, not really seeing anything, clenching his teeth on Ville's shoulder. He remembered himself a week… or two weeks ago…when he was crazy in love, jerking off happily on his fantasies in his cozy bed in Philadelphia... He was free and happy, just an average lad, a bit fucked in the head of course, but as Irvine Welsh said in "Trainspotting", there are no more normal people left in this world, after the invention of microwaves... But he was himself.
The worst thing that happened to him was that... his dream... came true. It doesn't happen like that. It shouldn't happen like that. They immediately became friends, and got really close right away, it was impossible to describe how eagerly they've been talking all this time, as if there was no one else in the world besides them. It was like a drug, Bam thought that trying to live without it would be like trying to live without air. The pure horror. They understood each other perfectly at a glance, they could talk about the most intimate and obscene topics that were too perverted to be mentioned in a polite society. They didn't feel any kind of awkwardness with each other. They were so close, as if they were a single whole. He was like his brother. Fuck Jess, he was even closer than his brother was to him, he'd never feel this way for his brother! And what if it all disappears from his life now and forever... He didn't notice how he began to sob uncontrollably, heavy tears rolling from his eyes while he nibbled Ville's leather jacket. And he didn't feel ashamed. Holy shit!
"Hey," a hoarse dry voice sounded in his ears. Ville took him by his neck, lifted up his face and looked into his eyes. "What is it?" What's wrong... baby... mmm?"
Brandon couldn't answer, he tried to not whine. Ville responded in picturesque way. He licked off the both tracks of his tears from his cheeks thoughtfully and spoke in a very pompous manner, apparently quoting something from his own priceless lyrical and poetical heritage:
"I'm drunk on your tears, baby..." he grinned.
Well, he got into the mood...
"Go fucking work," Bam drew back standoffishly. The tears in his eyes dried, leaving only a bitter feeling of disappointment about how stupid he was to trust him quickly.
"By the way, you're right," Ville said, jumping off the sink. 'Work sets you free!' as it was written on the gates of Auschwitz..." he looked better already, but he didn't notice Bam's offense at all. "It sets you free from everything. And I mean it. It sets you free from your life. From any king of personal life… from literally everything... Well, let's get going?"
"Let's go," Bam said and loudly blew his nose into the sink, purposely making it look like he didn't give a shit.
When they left the toilet, Brandon escorted Ville to the stairs leading to the exit from the station.
"Well, everything was awesome," he said, standing stock-still, hugging his skateboard like it was his last protection. "It's time to say goodbye, dude," Ville stopped as well and turned to Brandon. "I still need to make the train," Bam smiled dramatically and put his fist to Ville's chest imitating cool rapper's manner.
Ville caught his hand on his chest. Bam tried to pull his fist out, but Ville was stronger, so he allowed him to unclench his hand and snuggle his palm to his chest. Bam looked at Ville furiously, fuck, you won't fool me that easily! Actually, he would like to look fiercely into his eyes, but... Ville did not look in his eyes. He didn't lift his eyes to look at him at all. He snuggled his open palm to his chest, forcing him to feel the beating of his heart. He was deadly serious, and all their interactions seemed somehow unclear, as if Bam was trying to sneak into the pocket of his jacket, and Ville just caught him by his hand, or suddenly felt sick. Nobody was paying attention to them. Nobody gave a shit about the fact that the heart of the creature, which made Bam's heart stop was beating fast right under his palm.
Ville bowed his head lower and touched the tip of Bam's fingers with his lips. Bam jerked his hand back as if scorched by fire. Funny, but it pissed Ville off instantly, and without saying a word, he turned around and walked away down the stairs. Bam folded his arms, thoughtfully gazing after this vulgar gait of a rock star:
"Hey, you!" He shouted to his back arrogantly.
"We'll see who gives up first," Villes napped over his shoulder, forcing Bam to laugh loudly and hysterically for some inexplicable reason. He put his hands to his mouth to depict a megaphone, and said expressly:
Ville gave him a finger and left the building without turning around.
Brandon grinned and went to find a flip board to check what time is his train to London, Heathrow. When he took his seat, he realized that the seat next to him is unoccupied, so he put his unsophisticated luggage and a backpack on the seat beside him. In addition, he found a little bottle of whiskey from the mini-bar in his backpack. Damn, he needed it like no one else.
He downed the strong drink with some effort and generously diluted it with coke. He leaned back, sticking the headphones into his ears… listening to HIS voice... and feeling... feeling himself... a man. As soon as they bowed out and Bam jumped out of THEIR world into the reality, he suddenly felt that he has matured in the past two fucking days. It had nothing in common with losing virginity, which was embarrassing and strange, bashful and quick, just to get rid of the humiliating cliché, as it was with his girlfriend. At that time, he was just happy that it happened and that everything wasn't that bad somehow.
And now he looked at the passengers seating around, he looked at check-taker girls, who were passing him hither and yon, and he felt himself superior to all of them. He wasn't himself from now on. It happened in his life. It happened. He was no longer the same guy who came to London a couple of days ago. That boy didn't exist anymore. The thing that was filling him from the inside after he experienced those moments was much bigger than him... It suddenly made him feel proud of himself and even to feel superiority over the miserable passengers around him. It got into his life... He no longer thought about himself and his own needs, he suddenly began to think in "we" pronouns... Fuck! He barely passed fourth station and already thought, how HE will spend this evening, and that he will immediately call him as soon as he gets home, and that they need to meet in the nearest future, and he will do it no matter what. Because the feeling of another person just entered his blood, became a part of him, though, he didn't even know how to understand or describe it. During these two days, Bam has matured by ten years. It happened in his life. Love happened to him. Real love and the strangest thing about it...it was mutual. Bam nearly jumped on the seat to hug and kiss the passing by check-taker girl, but she didn't want his affection, she needed his ticket, so he just took out the headphones, gave her the ticket and put his headphones back into his ears. He leaned back, said to himself "Willah!" turned up the volume, and then fell asleep right in the chair, proud as ever.
Ville felt a little bit better when he reached his hotel. Just one extra cigarette and he could nearly pass for a human being. Almost normal and alive one. His eyes felt terribly sore, and he knew that he had to get at least a few hours of sleep, if he intended to stay among the living any longer.
He entered their room. Mige met him the very same way he had seen him off yesterday: reclining on his bed in his underwear, leafing through some magazine.
‘Aw, and here he comes… Shit, man, just look at you,’ Mige giggled. ‘Seppo will definitely ejaculate all over your sad, drunken face, when he sees you.’
‘He has… already… a moment ago…’ Ville said in an unnaturally quiet and sad manner, making Mige howl with laughter, clapping his hand on his bed.
‘We’ve met downstairs, at the lobby, and he’s ejaculated the living hell out of him.’
‘Didn’t you say you like it before?’ Mige could imagine what their manager had to voice to his singer, who went on a spree and came back in such a state, so he almost split his sides laughing.
‘I must’ve been lying to impress you,’ Ville said sadly. ‘I will probably die any moment now, so could you please be kind enough to tell my mom that I loved her. And my dad, tell him that I loved him, too.”
Ville threw off his leather jacket and fell face forward on the free bed.
‘And what about Jesse?’
‘Too much credit for him.’
Jesse was his younger brother.
‘Take off your shoes, idiot…’
‘I can’t, I’m exhausted.’
‘Then why did you take off your jacket? Losing it, huh?’ Mige asked him.
‘I’ll get up and put it back on, if that will make you shut up,’ Ville mumbled into his pillow.
‘There-there,’ said Mige serenely. Unlike Ville, he spent the last night sleeping peacefully alone in the room, which made the quality and quantity of sleep that much better. ‘I’ll leave you alone, go to sleep. Just one last question…’
‘So, you did fuck the boy, didn’t ya?’ Mige spoke tenderly.
‘I most certainly will,’ Mige agreed. ‘Is he of age at least?’
Ville moaned into the pillow, putting into his moan all the fury and despair that he had in him.
‘I warned you,’ said Mige. ‘Didn’t I tell you that when it comes to those young creatures, who come up to you, telling you that you’re the Love of their Life, those tender, innocent souls, who have no idea what kind of a morally depraved freak you really are - you should always check their passport in advance, because otherwise their parents will come and cut your balls off.’
‘He is,’ Ville said.
‘Nighty-night, darling, sleep tight,’ Mige said, showing with the tone of his voice that he had acquired all the information he needed. ‘Are you coming for lunch?’
Ville didn’t answer his question, so Mige decided not to torture the lifeless body any longer.
On their way from the skate park to a pub, they were playing a self-invented game called “a car and a truck” and they literally laughed their asses off. Bam was the first one to play the car, because Ville wanted to skate some more and Bam, remembering his previous glorious effort, agreed to that only under the condition that he would hold Ville by the hand. Ville tried to avoid it at first, but then he gave up and grabbed Bam by the collar of his shirt with his both hands.
‘Well, you drag me then!’ He said.
They switched the roles on the second part of their journey to the pub, so now Ville was the one dragging Bam along with him. They discussed a number of vital questions on their way, including all of the last albums of their favorite bands. Bam was so thrilled to tell Ville about the show that he was filming, that he got a bit carried away after some time and began speaking a little too fast, so Ville could grasp only a half of what he was saying. He was laughing politely nevertheless, sometimes he even did it in the right spots. Bam, however, didn’t mind when he was laughing at the wrong time.
They seemed to have a lot in common. Bam had an elder brother, Ville had a younger one, and both of them had good relationships with their parents. Bam told him about April, Phil and Don Vito.
‘When I earn a lot of money, the first thing I’ll do is I’ll buy them a big fucking house!’ Bam said.
‘O-o-oh,’ Ville drawled. It turned out a bit too sarcastic, and probably because of that Bam jumped aside looking all embarrassed. He tried to find himself an excuse:
‘It’s not that I’m a sucker or something…’
‘You know, Mommy’s Little Boy…’
‘Yes, I do have a very good relationship with April because she is…’
‘Shhh,’ Ville stretched out his hand and tousled Bam’s silky, curly hair. ‘It’s alright, baby. I am not laughing at you at all.’
Bam stopped where he was, happily giving in to the caressing hand, looking naïve and open like a puppy. His face was expressing the deepest, overwhelming pleasure. He even closed his eyes. Ville barely restrained from smooching Bam right into his open, childish face that was glowing with joy. He wasn’t even completely sure whether it was a sexual or a purely sentimental yearning.
‘Mmmm…’ Bam whispered ecstatically. ‘I had no idea I had an erogenous zone over there… And I didn’t know that I like the word “baby”.’
‘Oh Lord,’ Ville snatched his hand away with a short laugh. He knew that Bam was kidding, but the whole situation all of a sudden started to seemed confusing, so he hurried to break the contact. And moreover, they almost reached their destination.
‘Oh, wait, I did know that,’ Bam corrected himself. ‘I tried jerking off to your songs a couple of times.’
‘Any luck?’ Ville asked compassionately.
‘You bet!’ Bam answered him proudly.
‘Oh, thank God, now I know that all my life was not in vain, Ville said, spitefully closing the door right in front of Bam’s face.
A couple of beers later, Bam decided that it was the right time to move on to some more intimate topics, so he started talking about his girlfriend.
‘We’ve been friends since we were 12, and we’re still together, her name is Missy…’
‘Yeah, I also had a tendency of falling in love with my best friends in school,’ Ville carefully worded his phrase, hiding his face behind a glass of beer.
‘A-a-and?’ Bam’s eyes lit up. Did he get the double meaning behind his phrase? Ville shrugged indifferently.
‘I suppose I wasn’t too successful at exciting the curiosity of the object in question.’
‘You’re shitting me!’ Bam exclaimed indignantly.
‘I never lie,’ Ville said. ‘In fact, it is a very sad story, and it left me with a deep psychological trauma.’
‘No way! I’ll never believe that there’s even a slightest chance of someone not falling in love with you…” Bam barked, laughing aloud, without even a hint of hesitation... his face was shining from inside… ‘Damn, I’m really trying to imagine it right now…’
Bam seated in front of him, shining like a sun. The worst thing was – Bam didn’t just shine, he was radiating tons of light and warmth. They had just met, they barely knew each other, but Ville already felt like sharing with him some things, which he was shy to admit even to himself. It wasn’t an ordinary situation, he was used to treating strangers with suspicion, and for that reason he found the way he felt towards Bam pretty frightening. It was quite a peculiar kind of fear though. It was tickling his nerves like a fresh gentle breeze, and for some reason it only made him want to intensify the feeling.
‘So, you mean… you, being… well… being you… are walking up to someone… all like… “I love you” and all that shit… and that someone goes “Get lost”… Is it? That’s how it was?’
‘Well, roughly put… Yes, quite so,’ Ville agreed. The guy had a strange appearance. Despite the apparent softness and tenderness of his face, his steely-grey eyes were alarming. Indeed, he was diligently rounding them up to achieve a naïve look of a home pet, but that was a trick Ville himself knew oh-so-well. He noticed that the guy’s glance was freezing on him from time to time; Bam was starring at him shamelessly, as if scanning him from the inside.
The same went to the guy’s smile: it was a bit too professional and beautiful for the simple guy he wanted to play. It was the smile of a man, who was completely positive about his inevitable triumph. Ville couldn’t get rid of this though, once it had infiltrated his brain. Yesterday, after the concert, he was far too muffed up and exhausted to notice any of these details, and besides, he didn’t think they would meet each other ever again. Ville found himself extremely attracted to the openness and simplicity of the guy. He liked Bam’s inner freedom and was fascinated by the way Bam effortlessly and easily took him out of his cocoon, making him ruin his work schedule just because he, Bam, wanted so. On the other hand, looking at Bam now, he didn’t see a naïve, spoilt American boy any more, he saw a pretty self-assured and determined man in front of him. He pensively leaned on the table and rubbed his lower lip, submerged in his thoughts. For that reason, he must have missed something of what Bam said.
‘Pardon?’ he asked, suddenly realizing that the silence at their table probably dragged for too long. He felt conscious that he might look too confused, so he pretentiously pulled out a cigarette out of his pack of “Marlboro” and took a draw. All that time Bam was sustaining a pause, carefully watching his every move. He didn’t speak until Ville allowed their eyes to meet.
‘I said that it must’ve been some fucking young chick,’ Bam repeated. ‘Any guy would’ve run after you with a gun after that, asking for more…’
‘Haha,’ Ville chuckled. ‘I don’t think we know each other well enough to go into such details…’
There is a moment on every date, when you suddenly begin to feel that going back to your own comfy bed and performing an act of love with yourself would be a much more relaxing, pleasant and safe way to end the evening rather than continuing the above mentioned date. That was the moment for Ville. Unfortunately for him and luckily for Bam, Ville’s warm, comfy bed was rather far away.
‘Hello… I’m Brandon,’ Bam whispered intimately, bending over the table and leaning his face closer to Ville’s. He was smiling. He was smiling gorgeously, like the goddamn Cheshire Cat. ‘Brandon Cole Margera, West Chester, Pennsylvania, nice to meet you. I’m still not allowed to buy myself booze in the US, so Rule, Britannia!’
‘Britannia rule the waves!’ Ville said, clinking his glass of lager against Bam’s.
Bam’s lips were much closer to him now, and all of a sudden Ville couldn’t care anymore how it would end. He chuckled at the sudden feeling of recklessness born inside of him, put his glass back on the table and rubbed his lower lip thoughtfully with his pointer finger, gazing at Bam intently. Bam dropped his eyes and recoiled, exhaling loudly. He got flustered. He felt confused under his gaze. Ha.
‘Should I… I could go get us some more beer from the bar…’ Bam offered, hopping up from the bench to hide his confusion.
‘Sure, why not,’ Ville said, staring unblinkingly at the place where Bam seated a moment ago and smiling with the corners of his lips. ‘As you’re in an erected position anyway…’
‘Ha-ha-ha!’ Bam laughed on his way to the bar. ‘Erected position,’ he repeated. ‘Ha-ha-ha-ha!’
Ville rubbed his face with his palms to hide a smile. The feeling that was arising inside of him was very strange. He didn’t necessary feel completely ecstatic about Bam every phrase, but the idea of leaving and jerking off in his own bed didn’t seem so appealing to him anymore. The situation was out of the ordinary, and the person was interesting enough to get him curious.
‘Here you go,’ Bam said somewhere from behind, coming back to the table with two pints of ale five minutes later. He leaned on Ville’s back and put the glasses on the table on the both sides from Ville.
‘Thank you, sweetie,’ Ville said, using all the seductive power of his voice.
‘Mmmm,’ Bam moaned into his ear.
Ville felt like a freaking fifteen-year-old boy… He felt the warmth of Bam’s body and the smell of his skin, his breath, the smell of his perfume and the smell of a washing powder, coming from his clothes. It was all mixed into one unique scent that was making him melt, making him tilt his head and expose his neck. Bam’s hands were lying on top of him and his breath was touching Ville’s ear.
‘By the wa-a-ay,’ Bam said, taking a seat near Ville. Ville didn’t move aside on the bench, but he didn’t move closer to him either, he was smoking with his legs crossed. ‘Can you show me yours?..’ Bam whispered hotly into his ear.
‘Mmmm?’ Ville frowned at him out of surprise.
‘Well… you know…’
‘Show you mine what?’
‘Your… your thing…’
‘The one you have down there…’
‘Oh God, Bam, this is the way I was hooking up with girls in the first grade…’
“…Which is probably the reason you still don’t have a girlfriend,” Bam retorted him tenderly, pouting his lips and rounding up his eyes even more.
‘Idiot,’ Ville giggled. Bam giggled in response. In a very nasty, triumphant kind of way. Oh really? Alright then, we’ll see who laughs the last.
‘Show me your tattoo…’ Bam beamed at him as if nothing had happened.
‘This one?’ Ville turned to him his hand with a cigarette, showing him his wrist with a little heart that was playfully looking out from under the sleeve of his jacket. Of course, he knew that it wasn’t the one Bam wanted to see.
‘No,’ Bam said innocently and carelessly. ‘The one above your wiener.’
He was seating on the bench next to Ville, half turned to him, and was enjoying the feeling of complete impunity.
‘Alright,’ Ville quickly got up on his feet, turned towards Bam, put his knee on the bench, jerked his shirt up and shoved all that almost into Bam’s face.
Against his expectations, the closeness of his intimate parts didn’t confuse Bam, he didn’t draw back. He stayed where he was, but there suddenly was a fierce, predatory expression on his cute, round face, and his angelic blue eyes darkened dangerously, as if someone spilled ink into them. Ville could enjoy the view as Bam lifted his glance and looked him right in the eyes. He was smiling. He was looking at the bottom of Ville’s stomach, or rather, at the top of his crotch, and was breathing hotly into his belly, causing pretty obvious sensual reactions in Ville. He didn’t move backward or forward, clearly playing the game of ‘who backs off first’. Ville understood that odds were not on his side, especially considering the fact that he was pretty obviously and inevitably getting a hard on. He clenched the cigarette in his teeth and looked away in the direction of the rows of bottles behind the bar, carefully examining the passersby and trying to find some distraction. It would be such a fail if his dick knocked Bam on the chin right now, he didn’t want to give up that easily. But he couldn’t step back either. Fucking hell!
‘I want to see all of it. Down there as well,” Bam ordered. Oh, how he said it! Ville gritted his teeth and set his jaw, because Bam’s peremptory tone stung him. He could physically feel the adrenalin rushing through his body. The tone was calm, gentle and reassured; it didn’t even presume the possibility of refusal. Bam was throwing him a challenge: Can you do this? Ville had no other option. He clenched his teeth and pulled down the belt of his pants with his thumbs as low as he could, to the base of his cock. It turned out to be a good maneuver as well, as it helped him to hide his boner.
‘Wow,’ Bam said cheerfully. ‘I didn’t know that you were dyeing your hair.’
‘The hell?!’ Ville asked bewildered, the cigarette almost fell out of his mouth.
‘Your hair, it’s lighter on your pubic, and under your navel,’ Bam explained himself.
‘You were going to look at the tattoo, not my pubic hair,’ Ville said grimly, realizing that Bam’s remark didn’t go unnoticed for his erection.
‘Should I disappoint you, or you’re a big boy and will understand everything by yourself?’ Bam asked him surprisingly sharply.
‘Cunt,’ Ville uttered through his gritted teeth.
Bam didn’t give him a chance to collect himself, he grabbed Ville by the belt, dragging his pants even lower, and kissed him firmly right into the center of the tattooed heartagram. Stars flashed before Ville’s eyes, lots of black and red gothic stars, he lost his breath. The wet coolness of the guy’s lips on the tender skin under his navel scorched its way throughout his body. From that moment on - the joke wasn’t a joke for him anymore.
Ville snatched out of Bam’s hands and stormed in the direction of the restrooms, making a lap of honor around their table, adjusting his pants and making the people around him dash aside. The idea of finishing the evening without Bam reached the point of no return. He was turned on, he liked how outspoken and impudent the guy was, moreover, he liked the tenderness of his lips and his fingers that he felt at the fleeting touch. When he came back to the table, Bam’s face was a bit alert. Ville grabbed his glass from the table, took a big gulp to cover his face and snapped harshly:
Bam didn’t move, so Ville had to push him in with his thigh, landing on a bench next to him. Bam didn’t move an inch further than Ville had pushed him in, he didn’t try to break their bodily contact. Moreover, he leaned his head on Ville’s shoulder.
Ville was drinking his beer quietly, tightly gripping his glass.
‘I kissed the star on the star!’ Bam said proudly.
Ville was drinking quietly.
‘Or was it a heart?’
Ville kept drinking his beer quietly.
‘Willah Wallah… what does your tattoo stand for?’
‘For an ass,’ Ville told him kindly.
‘I kissed the star on the a…’
‘Fine,’ Bam agreed. ‘But you are the one who started it.’
‘As you wish,’ Ville agreed.
‘In fact, it doesn’t even matter who is the first one to start,’ Bam took away Ville’s a cigarette, which he lit up just a moment ago and took a whiff, suddenly falling into a philosophical mood. ‘What really matters is who cums first. Of course, it would be perfect to cum together, but it doesn’t always happen that way, you know… I think with some time and practice we’ll manage to overcome that problem though… What do you think, Willah Wallah?’
‘I think I want to die right now,’ Ville said, lighting up a new cigarette and taking a draw. ‘What the hell am I doing here?’
‘A blow job for me,’ Bam said charmingly.
‘WHAT?’ For the first time since his very childhood, Ville Valo choked on a cigarette smoke.
‘That’s what I want,’ Bam said innocently. ‘A blow job. Don’t you want it as well?’
At that moment, Ville made a fatal mistake: he underestimated Bam’s capabilities. Of course, it could be blamed on the fact that both of them had consumed a pretty impressive amount of alcohol by the time, but he obviously lost control over the situation, because he didn’t grow even slightly wary when Bam whispered temptingly into his ear:
‘Mmm… Willa… You don’t know what you’re missing out on… Do you… Do you want me to kiss you on your dick? Right here, in front of everyone?’
Ville had yet to find out what that specific relaxed and euphoric tone of Bam’s meant. At that time he didn’t know that that tone forebode a planetary disaster on a local scale. He was still under the impression that Bam was simply challenging him.
‘Go ahead!’ he said gloomily. He expected them both to laugh and nothing more, so he was completely unprepared when Bam dashed forward like a hunting vulture, swiftly and deftly hurling down on the bench, his face appearing right over Ville’s crotch. He pressed his lips into Ville’s tummy, as low as the pants allowed him, shamelessly sucking in the sensitive skin and trying to unzip Ville’s pants. Ville tried to push him away with a howl:
‘It’s not even hard!’ he warned Bam sternly.
But Bam grasped him in earnest. The very same second Ville said that, he slyly and assuredly slipped his palm to his right hip and squeezed Ville’s erected cock, making him unwillingly spread his legs, throw back his head and let out a constrained moan.
‘Li-i-iar,’ Bam delivered his verdict . ‘You are all wet, kitty.’
Ville lost his breath at the variety of emotions, which he experienced at the moment, so he failed to come up with a comeback in time. A waiter, who came to collect empty glasses from their table, suddenly broke their intimate privacy. He was looking at their fuss with a skeptical look on his face, so Ville raised his hand and waved at him:
‘Everything’s alright! This is my twin cousin, he is retarded!’
‘Ye-ye!’ Bam said, taking his glance away from Ville’s crotch and diligently skewing his eyes to the bridge of his nose. ‘He has a picture there, look!’ he drooled just as diligently, making his saliva drip from the corner of his mouth right on the above-mentioned picture.
Ville couldn’t take the beauty of the view any more, he howled with laughter like a hyena, throwing back his head. It was all going a bit too far. It wasn’t only for the saliva that was running down his pants, or his skew-eyed twin cousin, who kept squeezing his dick tightly, it was also for the fact that a group of skinhead-looking guys started to show some interest towards them. Getting beaten up by a group of strangers wasn’t exactly the activity that Ville had planned for this particular evening, of which he informed Bam. Bam agreed with him and unwillingly dismounted Ville’s knees. The waiter hurried to leave them alone.
It was dark outside when they got out of the pub. They felt as if they had spent in the pub an hour at the very most, but all of a sudden, it was evening already. The hotel was quite nearby, so they decided to walk there instead of taking a cab. The fresh air was intoxicating, and the light of London’s lanterns was adding to their journey a certain fleur of romance.
‘Give me your hand,’ Bam gave up first.
‘Give me your hand.’
‘Stop being so gay, Bam.’
‘Alright, I’ll take it by myself.’
Ville didn’t say anything. It was hard to explain even to himself, why holding Bam with his both hands earlier that day hadn’t been gay and now it suddenly was. In fact, he didn’t have to explain that to himself, he knew the answer, he was hoping that Bam had the smarts not to ask him that question. He didn’t have a slightest desire to show the guy the tumult, which he caused in him playfully, in a snap of his fingers. It was one of those times, when he was afraid to look ridiculous in someone’s eyes.
‘Mmm…’ Bam was walking next to him holding Ville by the hand. Actually, he was holding his forearm with his both hands, his skateboard squeezed under his armpit, so in fact he was hopping alongside Ville sideways, not paying a slightest attention to the people passing them. ‘Haha, you know, I like it, it’s cool,’ Bam giggled. ‘It’s like you’re my chick… HEY!’ Bam abruptly raised his voice. ‘LOOK EVERYONE! LOOK AND ENVY ME!!! THIS BABE IS MINE!!!’
‘Bam, are you fucked in the head?’ Ville groaned.
‘No, I’m not fucked… yet.’
‘I’ll hit you,’ Ville hissed.
‘Oooh, she is hot,’ thank God, the American brat must have heeded to the warning, because he lowered his voice. ‘She can’t wait to hit it,’ he finished his thought when his forehead met Ville’s fist. Ville didn’t punch him too hard, but hard enough to convince.
‘I suppose, I might have allowed myself some statements that could be considered rude or even inappropriate?’ Bam inquired politely.
‘Indeed, sir,’ Ville agreed just as politely. He didn’t take his fist away from Bam’s forehead. And so they walked: Bam hopping sideways and Ville with his fist pressed to Bam’s head.
‘Please Sir, don’t beat me, it’s wrong on a pedagogical level!’ Bam whined in a dramatically tearful voice of a juvenile offender.
‘Little twat,’ Ville said through his teeth and returned his hand to his pocket.
The moment Bam realized the physical treat was over, he quickly got all of his courage back:
‘You know, it’s alright. Love comes with habit. Marry first, and love will come follow, as they say,’ he returned to his worldly-wise style of speech.
‘It wasn’t love at first sight for me either,’ Bam said seriously. ‘I found some of your features quite repelling at first, but then, after some time, I gradually managed to convince myself to give you a chance…’
‘YOU WHAT?!’ Ville stopped, glaring at him with his arms akimbo.
Bam jumped aside just in case.
‘Ha-ha,’ he said. “Ha-ha-ha. Ha-ha-ha-ha. Oh bummer. It was a joke. Ville, it was a joke, I got you!!! HAAAA!!! Oh man, this is damn funny…’
‘You’re fucking dead,’ Ville whispered, but Bam heard him as clearly as never before.
He instantly darted forward down the street.
Ville shoot off after him like a rocket, almost overtaking him in two strides of his long legs, but Bam’s skill in sports saved him. In the last moment, he slyly slipped out of Ville’s hands, wining the vital seconds, while the opponent was trying to recover from the skid.
He expanded the lead even further by crossing the street at the red light right in front of the passing car. He put his hands on its bonnet and vaulted over it. The driver hit the brakes, honking and shouting something non-PC at him.
‘VIVA LA BAM!!! THIS IS FUCKING PARKOUR!’ Bam shouted at the top of his lungs in response.
‘Karma’s gonna get you!’ Ville spoke in a deep voice from the other side of the street, putting his hands to his mouth. He might have lost the battle, but not the war.
Just as predicted, Karma got Bam. It caught him in the hall of the hotel, putting its leg between the closing doors of an elevator. After a short fight with the machine, it opened the doors with its elegant, yet strong shoulders, pushed Bam into the corner of the cabin, and hang upon him, inexorable like doom. The skateboard fell out of Bam’s hands with a wallop. The guys stood in front of each other, breathing heavily, none of them could tell exactly why they were so out of breath. Was it for the fact that he realized he had no getaway or maybe the urge was triggered by their physical activity and adrenaline in his blood, but Bam whispered desperately in an appallingly serious tone:
‘I can’t… I can’t bear it any longer… I want you so fucking bad…’
At once, Ville lost his ability to analyze. He could only see Bam’s sensitive mouth in front of him. Vague “I want you” sounded somewhere in the back of his mind, muffled up by the deafening beating of his heart. He covered Bam’s slightly parted lips with his mouth before he could realize what he was doing. The gentle touch of the guy’s soft, warm lips, striving eagerly to answer the kiss, burned a white-hot line from his brain to his stiff cock, making every touch on his lips feel like he was caressed down there.
This sudden intimate triumph of blazing sensuality ended just as epically as it had started. Bam moaned, seizing Ville by his jacket, trying to tighten their embrace, and moved sideways to get out of the corner, when his foot landed on the skateboard and slid to the side. He hit his head on the wall of the elevator and unintentionally, but somehow very skillfully, knocked Ville down and dragged him to the floor along with him. They plonked on the floor with Bam kindly softening the fall for Ville with his own body.
The doors of the elevator opened silently and as the grand finale of the severe male foreplay, to the eyes of the Japanese tourists, who have been waiting for the elevator and at the moment, were looking in astonishment at the pig-pile in front of them, appeared the goddamn skateboard.
Crying with laughter and giggling hysterically Bam creeped out from under Ville, who was trying to get back on his feet slowly and unsurely. Bam left the elevator in a creative way: on his all fours, peeking sideways at the genuinely stunned faces of the Asian tourists. On his way out, he shared with them everything he knew about Japan from watching hentai and playing stupid computer games with his brother:
‘Err.. Gomen nasai… Sayonara!… Kawaii… Harakiri!…’ he giggled. ‘Pokemon! I’VE KILLED MY POKEMON! I DIDN’T FEED HIM, AND HE SHAT HIMSELF TO DEATH ON THE THIRD DAY! HE DIED! HE DIED IN HIS OWN SHIT! By the way, could you please tell me, how could he shit so much, if I didn’t feed him?’
Basically, this was all Brandon wanted to know about Japan.
Ville bowed mannerly with his hands clasped to his chest and solemnly welcomed the tourists:
‘Greetings, and Welcome to the Glorious Lands of Great Britain, oh Earthlings! Dear Ladies and Gentlemen, Sirs and Madams, Herren and Frauen, I wish you a pleasant stay in this beautiful cunt....oh, please excuse my Scandinavian accent,...co-u-ntry! Try to avoid hard drinking, do not repeat my mistakes. Hail Black Sabbath, and by the way, be sure to visit Birmingham! Kiss the ground there! For this is the Holy Ground! It’s the Mecca! Commit adultery as often as possible! Err… and yeah, yeah, oh, yeah,… Worship Satan!’
Ville finished his speech and walked away solemnly, rocking defiantly and then impressively dropping dead on the floor his face forward. Half of the tourists had already entered the elevator and another half rushed to offer him some help. However, Bam was faster, he run up to Ville and frightened the civilized nation with his heartrending howl:
‘GO AWAY! HE IS MINE! MI-I-INE!’ he grabbed Ville by his leg and tried to drag him along the floor. He tried to. Ville was sewing the air with his hands, clinging to the carpet and the nearby jambs with his nails and wailing emphatically:
‘Obey Ozzy Osbourne! Prepare the Cakes of Light! Collect fresh blood every month! The best blood is of the moon! Mix it with the sacred oil of Abramelin and olive, add meal, honey, leavings of red wine lees and witness the conceiving of the new life! Every moon! Magic! Alchemy! Perform the ritual of anus! Honor Aleister Crowley as thy… mother!’
‘Holy fuck, dude, you’re a Psycho!’ Bam said admiringly, scratching the back of his head.
The elevator doors closed silently, taking the audience away, and the guys instantly grew bored of the show.
‘I am,’ Ville said, rolling on his back and sprawling lazily on the floor. ‘I probably went a bit screw loose with the anus thing, but I couldn’t help it, the word is so nasty. I’m desperately in love with it.’
‘Oh, I can feel your pain, baby,’ Bam said in an extremely focused tone.
‘Hey you, give me an Errrotic massage,’ Ville ordered, licking his lips and pointing at Bam. He rose on his elbows and started undoing his own shirt.
‘Holy crap!’ Bam approved his maneuver and took off his t-shirt in a single swift movement, tossing it somewhere in the corner of the corridor. He forgot about the t-shirt instantly and he would remember where he left it only the next morning, when he would come looking for it, because it was that was somewhat clean. In fact, they didn’t even drink that much, it was something different that intoxicated their brains, making them go completely nuts.
But the night was still young, so Bam stood over Ville, who was lying on the floor fully dressed, but half-naked, considering the situation. His nipples reddened insolently on his pale skin, same as his lips, which he kept licking reflexively, his obscene tattoo darkened mockingly near the waist of his pants like freaking pussy hair. Bam himself looked far from appropriate, half-naked in his low waist jeans, with his underwear sticking out for everyone to see, he was lasciviously stroking his dick and his balls through the thick fabric of his pants right above the guy, who was lying on the floor, so he could see everything in details. After that, Bam apparently decided to do a parody of a bad stripper, so he licked his fingers and demonstratively circled his nipple. He wasn’t sure what exactly he intended to achieve by that gesture: to turn on Ville or to make him laugh. Probably the latter, as they were in the corridor still. However, his vis-à-vis didn’t understand his humor. He mirrored his gesture and Bam couldn’t find humor in it, no matter how hard he tried. He fell on his knees, settling himself on Ville’s chest and did something what he had never thought he would dare to do. He put his fingers to Ville’s mouth, tracing the line of his lips, enjoying the fact that he was allowed to do so. Ville parted his lips under the gentle touch, because he was already far too turned on to control his impulses. He sucked in the tip of Bam’s middle finger, covering it with short yet sensual kisses, then the tip of his ring finger, and after that, he sucked in both of those fingers, a lot more durably and carefully. Bam swore under his breath and stuck his fingers into Ville’s mouth as deep as he could.
Ville moaned and arched his back under the invasion of his fingers, taking him inside and throwing his head back. Bam only saw his Adam’s apple twitch, and jerked away his hand crawling aside with a constrained:
It was much more than he could handle right now. He bend over Ville, rubbing against his stomach with his whole body and sliding up gently, skin on skin. Then he slid down again, slowly drawing a diagonal line with his lips, kissing the gentle skin on the sides of Ville’s body and moving back up. From his hips to his long neck, licking it up with a vigorous passion of a starving dog. They both liked the feeling of the wet skin that was burning between them. Bam continued his peculiar erotic massage by sliding down and back up on Ville’s body. This time Ville grabbed him by his ass and pressed his crotch against Bam’s, because he needed that right now. Bam had to break their contact, even though he wished he didn’t have to, but he realized he would cum right into his pants otherwise, of which he informed Ville downright.
It was like thirst.
Both of them were desperately turned on by their show, even though some parts of their bodies were more than ready for some other kind of action. A twisted pleasure, caused by the fact that they were getting a kick out of such an obscene and twisted situation, seized their minds completely and inevitably on the carpet in a corridor of a London hotel.
‘Fuck, the Japanese are back, aren’t they?’ Ville asked him in despair.
‘Nah,’ Bam soothed him . ‘Get lost, will you? Can’t you see what we’re doing here?’ he asked the couple that came out of the elevator. The couple rushed towards the side corridor.
For a couple of minutes Bam stood quietly in the same position, while Ville was entertaining himself by trying to catch with his mouth a pendant that Bam had on his neck and which was dangling near Ville’s face, considering Bam’s position.
Bam looked down and rocked back and forth a couple of times to increase the amplitude of the pendant’s movement, respecting the partner’s activity. After that, he leaned forward and put the pendant into his mouth, so Ville’s efforts would pay off.
‘We could go to my room,’ the thought suddenly dawned on Bam.
Ville wistfully spit out his pendant in agreement.
Was it for the fact that their enthusiasm got a bit worn out after their grand performance back in the corridor, or maybe they realized that games were over and shit got real, but the guys found themselves at loss once they entered Bam's room.
Ville was fidgeting hesitantly near the entrance, pretending to be captivated by the design of the hallstand, and Bam was tinkering at the door, all of a sudden extremely worried whether it is properly locked. It's not that they changed their mind, not at all, the intention to do some folly didn't go away, but suddenly this very act of folly was not something distant and vague. Now it was something that was going to happen between them here and now, for the reasons very different rather than to challenge each other. This revelation suddenly came to both of them, at the same time. The atmosphere in the room all of a sudden became very intimate and creepy.
"I sobered up, it seems," Ville delicately put into words the anxiety they both felt.
Bam got a lump in his throat at these words. He suddenly lost all of his faith in himself. It seems like he has spent all of his courage, boldness and impudence on getting Ville to come to his hotel room tonight, without putting it off, for Bam was completely certain that if he procrastinates with this one he won't be given another chance. Bam wanted to grab his love by the balls, if you want to put it that way. It was clear as noonday for him that Ville was not the kind of person who would let any of this happen if he would have enough time to figure out what exactly was going on.
Bam knew that he got dismayed at the worst time possible, he understood that, but there was nothing he could do about it. Fucking hell, he got dumbstruck now, when it was the time he ought to have started putting on his best show, playing oh-so-experienced lover and alpha-male, but something inside of him was against it. He just couldn't. He couldn't do this. He couldn't laugh, he couldn't play anyone, he couldn't do any fucking thing, he was just standing behind Ville's back half naked, with a heavy heart and a desperate look on his face, realizing that he has blown his once in a lifetime chance.
This thought hit him so hard in the guts that he almost burst into tears. He suddenly childishly clung to Ville's back, hugging him across his chest to fight back the tears and inhaling the smell of his's leather jacket. He let out a desperate sob and ardently buried his teeth into Ville's shoulder to stifle the unbearable yearning to cry hysterically:
He tightened his embrace, driving his palms under Ville's shirt, clinging to his skin that burned his hands with its softness and coldness to touch. "Even if I don't fuck you, I'll grope you at least," he thought. He closed his eyes tight and almost jumped out of his skin when he felt that Ville lowered his head and touched his hand with his lips.
"W.H.A.T?" Bam asked astonished.
"I'm going to the bathroom," he was told in a tone that he didn't grasp at first, but which instantly made his balls grow heavy with optimism. Bam wanted to say something like "holy fuck", but couldn't utter a word.
"Get off me," Ville kicked him on his leg. Which is definitely not the way one would behave to politely decline his attention.
"Oh yeah, kick me!" Bam said. "Kick me harder, babe! It turns me on!" Oh thank goodness, at least he regained his ability to joke. At least Ville found his phrase funny and snickered at it genuinely.
"You better give me a hand with my jacket," he said. Shizit! What a purely queen-like sort of gesture! Ville arched his back, trying to free himself from the sleeves of his jacket, in fact trying to make Bam to take the jacket off him. This made Bam chuckle, but not because he was able to see any humor in the situation.
Ville didn't turn around to look at him, he didn't thank him, he didn't seem to give a flying fuck about the further fate of his jacket. He turned his head at Bam the very last moment before closing the door to the bathroom and playfully stuck out the tip of his tongue at him. As the door closed, Bam blew out a loud breath and pressed Ville's jacket to his heart with his both hands, burying his nose into its lining and inhaling the scent he wanted to feel the most. The infatuating scent that was making him loose the remains of his sanity and which he had to distinguish for now from the smell of dyed and processed pelts of animals that were killed to satisfy his perverted attraction to Ville. He slid down the wall and sat on the floor in front of the closed bathroom door, smiling happily. He was barely able to collect his thought, to comprehend the fact that it wasn't flirting. HE just made this first step for him. HE decided to stay with him tonight. And not in the sense of simply staying in the same room, of course not, but in the sense that they will have sex tonight.
Bam howled, hugging the jacket even tighter. He arched his back, rolling on the floor like a female cat in heat and suddenly hit his head on the bathroom door with all his heart.
"Bam, are you ok?" he heard through the sound of running water.
"FUUUUUUUUUUUUCK YEAAAAAAAAAAAAH!" Bam bawled at the top of his lungs and… kissed the door.
It's a good thing that Ville didn't see that.
It was one of the things he was better off not knowing. It was safer this way. Safer for his mental health.
However, the sense of impending sex instantly pushed Bam's thoughts towards the other issue: he had to find some alcohol, because he just had no right to puss out after what happened earlier. He didn't know where he suddenly got the strengths, but he hopped up on his feet, put Ville's jacket on the hanger, touched the ceiling with his hand in a jump and rushed in the direction of the mini-bar. He stared into its depth, hoping to find there anything that would include the magical substance of the name C2H5OH, which would free his inflamed brain from a completely useless and even harmful ability to critically access the situation and to think.
He found there a couple of cans of beer, two little bottles of wine, he gulped down some whiskey to keep his spirits up, topped it with half a can of beer to chock the ability to think soberly, grabbed a cigarette from the same very pack that turned out to be Ville's and lied half-naked on the bed. His chest was heaving desperately, his chicks and his forehead were burning. The beating of his heart was thundering in his ears. He tried not to think too much about what was happening to the lower part of his body. Hoping to find himself some occupation, he heartily bit his hand in attempt to distract himself.
Then he heard the water in the bathroom stop.
He grew even more nervous.
Bam didn't know his heart was capable of such fucking dup-step until this moment.
He quickly grabbed a TV remote from the bedside table and turned on MTV… just to make himself look like a hard-bitten and experienced man, so it wasn't so obvious that he was losing his mind right now. He tried to carelessly sip on a beer at the same time, but it didn't work, because his fucking hand was shaking with lust. He grabbed his dick through his pants with his other hand to revive it a little.
The bathroom door opened up, letting out a cloud of steam, the smell of shampoo and the goddamn giggling Idol.
"Hey!" Ville said standing near the door to the bathroom. He pointed at someone on the screen. "I know this guy. We had a night out as well the other night. In Amsterdam. He's a cool fellow."
"I don't like this 'as well'," Bam said with an undisguised hatred in his voice. "Especially considering the kind of 'night out' you and I have here tonight."
The idol let out his hyena-like laugh. Which was very snarky yet not too offensive because for some reason it made you want to laugh with him, or may be the reason why Bam didn't have time to take an offence was the fact that Ville in some miraculous way appeared next to him. He lied across the bed, resting his elbow on Bam's stomach and put his smiling face framed by his wet curly hair on his palm.
"Mmm… baby… you're sexy…" the Idol grunted mockingly, copying someone, judging by his tone. He slowly slid his palm over Bam's bare torso. Bam couldn't care less who the hell Ville was copying, the gentle touch paralyzed his brain, he stared at the ceiling and opened his mouth, gasping the air hysterically, as if he just came up to the surface after spending three minutes under the water.
Bam moaned encouragingly, putting his hand on top of Ville's, driving it where he needed it to be, afraid to break the contact even for a second:
"Come to me," he called in a whisper, spreading his arms wide. "Just take off that thing, for god's sake," he added after some time in a pained whisper, referring to the goddamn bathrobe that was covering from him the ever so beckoning and coveted skin of his lover. Ville slowly raised on his arms, letting the bathrobe slide down his shoulders and threw back his head with a surprisingly bitchy expression on his face, almost like the one he had on the iconic cover of "Razorblade Romance". Bam was so fond of that image of the idol that he practically ruined his copy by excessive love. If Bam were to choose when he would die, he probably would have chosen this very moment. When he was lying half-naked in his room, with a boner that was threatening to tear his pants, next to this covered in wet curls fucking naughty-looking witch-angel, fucking cherub, who was gazing at him languidly, moving his shoulders and opening his mouth like a pro-stripper, trying to get rid of the freaking piece of white fabric.
Bam had simply nothing to lose at this point.
Bam carefully grabbed Ville by his neck and pressed his fingers right under the bones of his lower jaw. Not to suffocate him, of course, but to signify his rights. To test his reaction. Ville closed his eyes, tilted his head back, allowing to caress him the way Bam wanted to, without any unnecessary shyness or attempts to protect his goddamn masculinity. His reaction was disarming.
Bam gazed at him.
Ville arched his lower back even more, encouraging Bam's hot palm to slide slowly down his body, to the belt of his bathrobe and kindly assisting him in untying it. Such silly earthbound problems as tangled clothes was not something they wanted to encounter later on, during the descending to the depth of hell.
"Kiss me," Bam asked. "Please."
Ville did so. However, he didn't start with his lips, as Bam thought he would, he kissed his stomach first, covering the soft skin around his navel with delicate kisses, with his flat tongue he traced a wet path up to Bam's chest, embracing his body with his both palms. Bam threw his hands up to the head of the bed and moaned:
"Oh yeah… puss, that's it… just like that…"
The warm tongue flatly brushed his left nipple, then the right one, thumbs flicked his nipples, while Ville's tongue moved to his armpit, licking it from top to bottom, making Bam's dick jerk, making every cell of his body moan with pleasure. This, right there, was one of those moments when he knew that he wasn't making love to a woman. It didn't make him a faggot, of course not, there were some things that one could only share with a brother, not with a female. It was so kinky. Of course, he was already turned on, but this got him going even more. He was trying to catch Ville's tongue with his mouth, trying to feel the taste of his own sweat. It wasn't about the taste of his sweat, it was about those fucking intimate moments, which they could share right now.
Truly, it wasn't about the fact that he was probably a goddamn faggot somewhere deep inside his heart. But he was turned on like hell by the fact that he didn't have to explain anything. He didn't have to think how to make love, how to make out of yourself something you're not, he could simply feel the hot, aroused, naked body on top of him and howl from a simple sensation of touch of bare skin to bare skin. Feeling that the body next to him was possessed with the same overwhelming desire, the mad burning hunger, that the other guy was dying every moment they weren't touching each other the very same way he did.
Bam though that In fact, he didn't even give a fuck if he was a faggot after all, it was a totally different thing. He carefully rolled his lover on his back, laying on top of him and gently covering his parted lips with his. Ville entwined his hands behind Bam's neck, making him loose his sanity as he ran his fingers through his hair. His lips burned as if they were rubbed with a chilly pepper. Every second when his lips didn't touch the lips of the guy lying in his bed, brought him a desperate pain of discontent. Bam was leaning to him again and again, to nimble on his ear, to kiss his neck, to brush his lips against his temple, anything. Moaning and reveling in every time when Ville's lips caught him where he was at the moment. It was the sound, which he wanted to keep in his memory forever. An exhalation, a barely audible, almost whispered mutual laughter and their lips reaching out to each other to unite in a blissful kiss. A goddamn quiet, languorous, wet "smack"… to separate for a moment and then unite again. He could feel the scent of Ville's skin, and he knew that Ville could feel his, and this was the most sensual scent he has ever known. This scent was telling him something the words couldn't say. It was telling him that they were making love, telling him that next to him is a dear person, and that he will come back to this feeling as soon as he can, or at least he will die trying.
"I want to bring you pleasure," Bam said.
It wasn't a question, so he didn't expect an answer.
He even pushed Bam's hands lower, where he needed them the most. Bam snickered smugly, feeling Ville's hand pressing him to his shoulder.
Bam grabbed him right between his legs by his hot, hard dick, spitting on his hand and jerking him up and down mindfully on his makeshift lube, making his lover moan, gasp with excitement and swiftly throw his leg over Bam's thigh, giving him a better access.
"Oh yeah. Oh, fuck yeah," said Bam caressing the guy's long and thin naked thigh from his knee to his groin and back. This interaction was more of a game of tease for them rather then something that could bring them real sexual satisfaction, but Bam was more than fine with it. Who knows when will be the next time, when he will have the opportunity to enjoy this kind of personal erotic show, if he will ever get a chance like this again at all. He kept enthusiastically jerking his friend's cock, watching as the body under him began to live with its own, new, and strange kind of life.
He saw how Ville desperately threw back his head, biting his own palm near his thumb, gasping feverishly in attempt to take control of himself and not moan too loudly. But Bam could see that despite his attempts, he was completely gone with the sensual emotions.
Bam was reveling in the way the body of his beloved guy squirmed under his touch, suddenly attaining a purely snake-like grace, he was reveling in his gasps, which he never thought he will actually have a chance to hear. Ville was pushing himself into his hand as if the last time he had sex was a couple of decades ago. He was moaning and leaning to him, avidly following every movement of Bam's hand on his dick.
Without thinking too much, Bam leaned lower, to lick the inner side of his thigh from his knee to his very crotch, and then melancholically put the middle finger and the ring finger of his left hand into his lover's mouth. Ville delightfully sucked them in.
Bam spit on his palm again, to make it slide smoothly on Ville's stiff shaft, looking in amazement how Ville thrusted into his hand and how his fingers were disappearing inside of his friend's mouth with a distinctive sound. All of his most disgusting, unholy and at the same time beautiful and tempting fantasies merged into one. Not he, but the God himself should feel ashamed for he dared to call it filth, because if God could call this wrong than he didn't want to be right.
Bam fucked his guy in his mouth with his one hand while stroking his dick with another, understanding that he doesn't know a thing about this goddamn world anymore, because he has never felt so calm and sure in sex. He has never felt so turned on and calm at the same time, he just knew exactly what to do, and he didn't have to worry about anything else.
Bam stopped and stood above Ville on his fours. He leaned down to him, placing gentle kisses on his chest, on his stomach, moving down slowly and savoring every kiss. He licked up his fucking tattoo together with his pelvic hair and took his dick into his mouth.
He put his hand on the base of his shaft and wrapped his mouth around the head of his cock, pushing it with his tongue from different sides. He slid down his body, laying right between Ville's legs and taking his dick deeper and deeper into his throat with every move.
He could swear there was nothing more beautiful to him than what he was doing right now. Feeling the movement of his own mouth on his lover's hard cock. Hearing and feeling the way the guy's body reacted to his caresses, fucking hell, he was already on the cloud nine just from this.
He could practically feel how desperately Ville's was clinging to the mattress, arching his back and thrusting his hips into his mouth. The touch of the ever so tender and gentle skin around the steel stiffness of the guy's love tool that Bam craved so much, was burning his lips. Ville's groans, so sweet and desired, intermitted from time to time by the words of appreciation and encouragement, caressed his ears and his brain so intensely that it tickled somewhere in his balls. Bam had to draw back to catch his breath.
Well, frankly speaking, it wasn't too often when he found himself on this end of the process. It wasn't about his damn man principles. He didn't give a flying fuck about his man principles at the moment, the thing was - he simply had to breathe from time to time.
This time the end definitely did justify the means, and deep throating was the least evil among the things he was ready to do to give HIM pleasure.
A desperate desire to own this person captivated his mind. It was a desire to own more his body, even though his body was so unbearably beautiful, it was a painful, burning yearning to get inside his lover's head. To get inside his brain and leave there an itching, burning mark of sensual desire, which would be impossible to ever satisfy physically to a full extent. What he wanted to do was disgusting and dishonorable, but he wanted to conceive inside of his lover addiction to him, addiction to the pleasure he could bring him, make him come back for more like a drug junkie.
It was a pure and noble task, no doubt. He would have eagerly leaped into action right away, but there was one thing that didn't allow him to do so. The sick sense of humor of Mother Nature laid in the fact that his own rock-hard dick that was pulsating to the beat of his heart, threatening to blow up with ecstasy in the most physical kind of way at any moment, taking away from him the ability to think straight.
Bam was standing on his all fours above his naked lover, who was turned on just as much as him, and was trying to catch his breath. His eyes, which looked almost black in the half-light of the room, seemed even dangerous somehow. His body was radiating sex and adrenalin with intensity of a portable nuclear power station, which would be capable of providing with power the whole of West Chester and at least half of Philadelphia as well.
"Bam, are you ok?" Ville asked carefully.
Bam nodded shortly.
"I need you to cum. Right now." He told Ville sharply.
"You need me to cum?" his partner looked surprised.
"I do," Bam refused to see any humor in the situation.
"Oh… Well…" Ville whispered pensively. "Well… Give me a hand with this or something then… I can't do this straight away, you know."
Bam shortly said:
"Heh-heh," and backed up a little, settling himself in an already familiar way right between Ville's thighs, which were spread wide for him. He grabbed his friend's stiff dick with his hand, taking the tip into the sweet captivity of his work-worn lips, sending them both behind the point of no return.
In the heat of his sacramental worshiping to the good old Eros, he picked up Ville's thigh on his shoulder, taking control over his pleasure, but it instantly made him think about a whole variety of different things he could do right now between those wide-spread legs, especially considering the fact that Ville's naked thigh was laying right on his shoulder.
A flash of lightning paralyzed his brain, Bam let out a groan of delight, feeling the sweet seizures of orgasm taking over his body and unintentionally giving his lover an extra stimulation as he didn't take Ville's dick out of his mouth. Basically, his own untimely orgasm was the reason he missed the moment when Ville's dick shot a jet of sperm right into his throat, making him choke and recoil out of surprise, and still cumming, turning his hand, their faces and everything around them into a complete mess.
It was fucking epic.
Bam waited politely for the last quivers of ecstatic agony of his friend to subside, then meditatively licked his hand, interested to know the taste of Ville's semen, making him let out a moan of rapture, and then declared solemnly:
"Promise me you won't laugh," he warned Ville.
"It seems I have just ruined my only pants. Got so excited about the fact that I'm having sex, that I finished before it had actually started."
Maybe in some other situation Ville wouldn't laugh, but Bam asked him not to, so it was absolutely impossible to resist.
"Asshole," Bam didn't look too offended, he was chuckling as well. "You must feel ashamed. You turn me on too much."
"Ashamed?" Ville asked impudently. "Not in slightest."
"I'll take revenge on you when I get back," threatened him Bam scarcely getting up on his shaking feet and heading to the bathroom in hope to make his toilet and freshen himself up at least a bit.
"You won't get hard this fast," Ville taunted him.
"I'll give you a blowjob if I'm wrong," Ville promised.
"Unless I'm terribly mistaken, you've already lost this one," Bam musingly grabbed the door handle, analyzing the way his body felt.
"It's a pure pleasure working with you, sir," Ville smirked.
"The feeling is more than mutual, sir," Bam said.
What did he say? He won't get hard this fast? Ridiculous. As if such thing was possible for him today. While he was splashing in the bathroom and doing his laundry thing like a fucking raccoon, his love muscle aroused from the ashes, shining and full-blooded, like a goddamn Phoenix.
However, the way they continued their innocent and pure in the most platonic way night of love didn't really fit within the term "blowjob". Bam virtually banged Ville in his mouth when he got the chance, vigorously and determinedly, with a solid approach to what he was doing. He was simply enjoying the fact that he could do that.
Any other time he would have thought that thrusting your lover's face aggressively with your love stick, while straddling his chest, is not a very polite way to treat your partner, but the partner didn't seem to have a single objection to the way he was treated. Moreover, what Bam was doing to him now seemed to enrapture him just as much as what Bam did to him before that. It was mind blowing. It's a good thing Bam has already cum once, because now he could enjoy the view he had desperately wanted to see for a long time. He was looking at his dick disappearing inside of the tight ring of Ville's sensitive lips, wrapped around the head of his cock. He was looking at the guy's eyes squeezed shut with pleasure, or maybe with pain and discomfort. Preferably from all of the above, he thought. It was such a subtle erotic moment, when Bam would prefer there to be a little bit of pain mixed in pleasure.
At some point Ville put his hands firmly on Bam's thighs and pushed him back, getting into an active position, making Bam, who was more than ready and eager to surrender to his will, to spread-eagle on the bed under him.
"Oh, fuck, yeah, this was really hot right there!" exclaimed Bam admiringly. He threw back his head with a constrained moan at how enthusiastically and eagerly his lover was giving him head. "Ahh, yes… Yes… Do this again, oh please… yeah…"
Despite the fact, that Bam's jaw already hurt like hell from today's exercises they finished their night in the pose 69 with Bam on top, and after that flaked out exhausted by their own foolishness. Apparently, Bam passed out in the middle of the turn, because in the morning he found himself lying across Ville's abdomen. His head was buried in the mattress, while his ass was sticking up proudly in the direction of the window, curtains on which were hospitably open for some reason, inviting all perverts of the neighborhood to enjoy the view in their room. When he woke up, he realized that this position wasn't really comfortable for breathing, but to credit of his partner, he didn't disturb him a single time for the whole night, somehow accepting the fact that Bam has merely pinned him to the bed with his weight.
When he groaned, squirming on top of Ville, trying to get down somehow and swearing because his arms and legs felt numb, Ville opened his eyes:
"Good morning," he said hoarsely.
And at this moment a divine revelation came to Bam, he suddenly realized what exactly has happened. He let out a rebel yell full of joy, proudly putting his fist in the air:
"Oh god…" Ville reached for a cigarette and lit up right in the bed. For some reason he looked a bit shy in the light of day. He looked sleepy and shy. This made him irresistibly beautiful in Bam's eyes. He even tried to plunge himself on Ville yet again to cuddle and what not, but during their scuffling they suddenly found out it was almost eleven AM, which made them both hop up from the bed at once and start packing up their belongings at the god speed.
A couple of beers sounded like a great idea after such a long and hard nigh, so they left the hotel in a short while and headed to the nearest pub. By a happy coincidence, the closest pub happened to be near the train station, which was in a walking distance from their hotel.
"Oh, by the way, Willah…"
"What is it, Bammy?"
"Will you give me your phone number?"
"You mean my home phone number? Why?" asked Ville. "I'm rarely at home. Do I have a phone there at all? I'm not sure. But of course, Seppo will call you and tell you the number."
"I mean the number of your mobile phone," Bam specified trying not to hiss too obviously through his teeth.
"Mobile phones are evil," Said Ville. "I don't have a mobile phone. I will never have a mobile phone. Mobile phones are deeds of Satan!"
"…the fuck?" Bam stared at him.
Ville anxiously peeked at Bam sideways and whispered in a conspiratorial tone:
"They'll be able to get me… everywhere, anywhere…"
"They? Who are 'They'?" Bam asked carefully. Just in case.
"People," Ville said seriously. "All kinds of people."
"And what's wrong with people?" Bam asked.
"Everything, basically," Ville said honestly in a voice of a mentally retarded person. "I… I'm afraid of them."
Weak autumn sun of London peered out from the clouds shyly lighting the way for the lads who were walking to the train station.
"I suspected there was something wrong with you," Bam admitted. "It is written right there, between your eyes…"
"Thank you, Bammy."
"You are welcome, my dear, I guess that's one of the reasons I'm so drawn to you. But even so I'm not sure I get what you mean this time…"
"They all want something from me," Ville said in a pitiful tone and pouted his lips. "You see, they call you and then you have to do something, something completely different from what you were going to do before the call. You have to think about something, make decisions, go somewhere, and pretend to be something. It's traumatizing for me. I don't want to give them an opportunity to find me so easily. I will feel ashamed if I don't pick up the phone, but then I will have to lie and I'll have to decide what is easier: to agree and make the thing they want me to do or to make up some bullshit to avoid it and suffer from remorse to my dying day. All in all, either outcome of me picking up the phone leaves me in a state of unbearable, deep emotional shock. That, perhaps, must be the reason why somewhere deep inside my sub consciousness phone calls terrify me."
There are simply no words to describe the mixture of emotions that appeared on Bam's face at Ville's words. The expression on his face was priceless. He looked at Ville, the wings of his nose were trembling slightly.
"Oh you poor thing…" His tone… well, it was priceless, just as his facial expression.
Curiously, Ville understood him straight away. He understood everything, without any other unnecessary words.
"It's not that I want to get out of touch with you," he apologized barely audibly.
"Alright," Bam's jaw was still set, but the tone of his voice was a bit warmer now. "Correct me if I'm wrong, my dear friend: you want me to discuss my indecent perverted fantasies about you with your manager Seppo until the next time we meet, is it?"
"What I want now, Bammy, is to never separate with you," a deadly serious tone in which Ville said the phrase suddenly disarmed Bam without a single shot. He lifted his eyes at the modest sun of the Foggy Albion with a look of the Saint Sebastian and sighed. Almost without any hesitation he meekly accepted his fate and smacked Ville's jacket on the shoulder in response.
Forty five minutes were enough for them to enter the pub, down a bottle of fine red wine (to cheer up the spirit, as Ville said), take a couple of glasses of Scotch and top it up with some genuine British ale. All of a sudden, an idea occurred to Bam. The idea looked at him from the other side of the street where he saw a signboard of a mobile operator shop.
He left Ville alone at the table for a while, walked outside and then came back:
"Here, this is for you," Bam put on a table in front of Ville a brand new cell phone he just bought.
"What is this?" Ville asked him sipping on his beer. "An electronic leash?"
"This is your phone," Bam pressed a couple of buttons. "And this is my phone number. This is pretty much everything you need to know about this device. I guess you'll make out the rest by yourself. And if you don't – I don't give a shit. I have to reach you on this one, do you understand me? I will call you on this thingy. Pick up the phone."
"Ouuuukaaaaay," Ville drawled.
"Fine, here's the charger for it."
"My master is so kind," Ville exhaled.
Bam, who was trying to take a sip of beer, let out a fountain out of his mouth, making them both burst out with laughter.
"Awwww… What a smart little guy! Imma kiss you on your forehead!" Bam said climbing over the table to Ville.
"Which forehead?" Ville met Bam's mouth with his slightly parted lips. Bam failed to restrain a moan, the passionate, willing mouth was driving him insane, giving him a sweet tingling sensation in his groin with erotic taste of the kiss. Mmm… such a heady sweetness. Terrible. At 12 PM Greenwich time, in a pub on Wandsworth Street, they were drunk, making out like there was no tomorrow. The waiters were professionally looking away and the barman started demonstratively polishing the beer mugs with a towel, pretending to be extremely occupied with his work.
It's nice to be a shitfaced tourist from some goddamn Bumfuck Egypt.
No one can even bit you up, because some fucking faggot of a tourist might indicate a desire to spend in this stinky backstreet-boozer a pound or two, so they have to keep the face.
And so what? So what?!
They didn't have any other visitors apart from them anyway. Damn, who else would have spent here three hundred and fifty British pounds in one hour at this time of day?! In fact, it's highly doubtful this place will be able to earn that much even for the whole night, considering how stingy the locals were. He and Ville could even fuck right here, on the table, if they really needed to. For fifty pounds worth of tips some of the stuff might even agree to help them out somehow, or volunteer to lick them somewhere. Bam whispered his conclusions into Ville's ear, making his dear friend howl with laughter.
"You like the idea, don't you?" Bam asked him.
"I need to catch my fucking train," he said. "And just for you information, Bammy, my dear… my dear-dear Bammy… My baby… Do you know what? Do you know? I'm fucking wasted! What time is it now, by the way?"
"Check, please!" Bam said to the waiter and leaned closer to Ville. "Mmm… Don't worry babe, daddy will take you home in time."
"Asshole," whined Ville. He buried his face in his crossed on the table hands and giggled. In fact, the whole situation was hilarious.
"You're so funny when you're drunk," Bam said.
"I'm not drunk," Ville objected. The fact that he was contradicting his own statement he made a minute ago didn't seem to bother him a slightest bit.
Bam trilled with laughter. Ville was lying on the table with his hands crossed, Bam pulled up his hair and was eagerly licking up his neck from behind, moaning into his ear some vulgar pornographic "Mmm… oh, yeah" when the waiter decided to bring the check. Without looking, Bam put his credit card on the folder with the bill and topped it with a fifty pound note, to make sure the stuff forgot everything they saw right now.
"I love you," he said breathing into Ville's neck. "I. Love. You. Do you understand me or not? In fact, I don't even give a shit if you understand me or not. I just want to say it to you all the time. Even if you don't listen, it's fine with me. I will lie on top of you and say this to you. That fucking Judas-colored fat bitch of a barman will burst with fury right now. What are you looking at, cunt? Envious? Right, you should be. I had sex with Ville Valo yesterday and you didn't. Willah, do you want me to give him a finger?
"Oh God, why me?" Ville moaned musingly through his teeth somewhere from below.
"Pussy," Bam said with disconcerting seriousness lying on top of Ville's nape, resting his chin on his back and pressing Ville's face against the table with his chest. "You have to be a man to love a man, you see? A real man. No girl can do that"
"Kill me," Ville begged.
"No," Bam snapped. "Thank you, sweety," he said to the waiter who brought back the folder with his credit card. "What a beautiful place you have here…" he continued talking to the waiter. "I can give you my skateboard if you want," he said talking to Ville now.
"I want," Ville said.
"I stole the sign from you anyway, you know."
"Well, yeah, I had a couple of completely ungrounded suspicions about that."
"And for the band of my brother Jess as well. You aren't mad at me for that, are you?
"Wow, our brothers' names sound very similar."
"You see? We're a match made in heaven!"
"Oh, go to hell…"
Ville crawled out from under him to the daylight. He looked so near and dear, with his hear messed up from Bam's kisses. He looked absolutely beautiful, at least to Bam. Because Bam knew that he was the main reason why everything happened the way it did.
"I want to make a tattoo," Bam confessed.
"Tattoos are evil as well."
"Look who's talking!"
"Well, I'm a pretty double-dealing kind of fellow, just so you know."
"Yeah, I guessed. Like this one right here. On your wrist. The heart. I would make it in honor of us… meeting each other… in honor of… of this night… I don't know… From now on, I won't be jerking off like a fucking idiot, now I'll be jerking off with a deep meaning to it, you know? Don't you like the idea that I will look at your heart and think about you every time I pet my tiny little one-eyed snake?
"R-r-romantic…" Ville cracked up with his signature hyena-like laugh, which meant he understood everything just right.
"Thinking only about you, baby," Bam raised his brow seductively. "I can jerk off up to seven times on my best days…"
"I said my best days… Or should I better say my worst days?"
"Ok, enough. Let's get the fuck outta here, I feel the call of the All-Seeing Eye of Seppo, I need to go back to Mordor, or otherwise he won't let me out of his supervision ever again," he got up on his feet, modest noon sun lit up his slightly swaying silhouette.
"Can I?" Bam specified.
"You – can," Ville said.
Mige was reading a zoological magazine he picked up somewhere in Nottingham. The gig they played last night in Paris went quite smooth, much better than they expected, so even the overnight transfer to Barcelona did not seem to ruin their spirit.
“I have finally found the one zoological kind you belong to,” Mige said happily chewing on a bun as the golden rays of the morning dawn pierced through the windows of their tour-bus. Gas, Zoltan and Linde were all sleeping peacefully up on their shelves, unlike Ville who has been suffering from insomnia while he was in the tour bus. Grumpy and sleepy, he crawled out of his burrow to seat with Mige. He wrapped himself up in a sports jacket and sprawled out on a couch opposite Mige taking two seats at once. He just made himself a huge cup of coffee and now was facing a purely Shakespearean dilemma: to be or not to be? To mix it with some beer or not.
“Knock yourself out…” Ville said.
“Solenodon paradoxus, also known as gap-tooth,” Mige said.
“Gap-what?” Ville asked him gloomily.
“Ha-ha,” Mige appreciated the joke. “Yeah, and that as well,” he agreed and read aloud:
“Solenodons resemble very large shrews, with extremely elongated cartilaginous snouts and small eyes, head-and-body length is 28 to 32 cm (11 to 13 inches)… Well they obviously flattered you too much with this one… And this part we’ll skip as well… Aha! The animal has long hairless feet and long, naked, scaly tail…”
“Thank you, Mige, thank you, my friend...”
“Once they reach adulthood, solenodons are solitary animals, which rarely interact except to breed. Breeding has no specific time period and can occur at any time… If the prey is small enough, the solenodon will consume it immediately… They are easily provoked and will therefore fly into rages of biting and screaming without warning. In moments of excitement, it may grunt like a pig or give bird-like cries… A hyena-like laughter I would call it, but yeah, this works as well… Based on observation of the solenodon in captivity, they have only been known to drink while bathing… Man, this is totally you… the moment they said about drinking while bathing I knew it was you…”
“Mige, could you pass me the magazine, and be so kind to let me show you my appreciation as well. I believe I could find you some kind of warthog too,” Ville asked Mige.
“Hold on, hold on, here comes the best part,” Mige said. “Solenodons are among a handful of venomous mammals. The symptoms of a solenodon bite include general depression, breathing difficulty, paralysis, and convulsions. It is apparently not immune to its own venom, since animals have been seen to die after fighting and sustaining minor wounds… When two animals sleep together the sleeping postures are quite variable, and generally one crawls under the other…” at these words, Mige stopped reading and looked at Ville. Ville did not notice his glance, he took a loud gulp of coffee from his cup and set his eyes pensively at the golden dawn behind the window:
“Is not immune to its own venom… Dies after sustaining minor wounds… I knew one day I would die from my own venom,” Ville said. “By my self-inflicted wounds.”
“Well, don’t bite yourself then,” Mige suggested logically. “Why do that, when you can bite people around you?”
“By the time I do that to myself there won’t be anyone left alive around me,” Ville said seriously.
“I love you for your healthy self-criticism,” Mige said. “I would even call it a healthy self-esteem.”
“I love you too,” Ville nodded and took a sip of coffee. “Mon cher ami.”
Mige peeked at Ville sideways suspiciously. He did not like nether the tone of his voice nor his sudden kindness.
“Here,” he said, stretching out his hand with the magazine to Ville. “You can look for a warthog for me if you want to…”
“Oh, no, thank you.”
“You better take your revenge straight away,” Mige insisted. “Otherwise I’ll have to check every can of beer for strychnine.”
“Your death would be too fast and painless in that case, you didn’t deserve it.”
“Oh, right, what was I thinking,” Mige corrected himself, scratching his chin.
They continued their way in silence. Mige kept reading, and chewing on his bun, spreading the crumbles generously all around him, while Ville kept yawning, looking out of the window, watching the morning landscapes of the south France slowly fading into the landscapes of the northern Spain. Soon enough, Linde came down to them. He stumbled his way to the bathroom and back in a state of a semi-zombie and then he and Ville had a lazy chess match, but in the middle of the game, when Linde realized that Ville is winning, he suddenly lost his interest to the game and started yawning desperately, nodding off in Mige’s warm, comfortable embrace.
“I shall spend some more time in my coffin,” Ville said somberly, referring to his shelf. It was sheer torture, which made his eyes and his forehead burn. He desperately wanted to sleep, but he just could not relax while in a bus. It continued for almost a year now. Of course, their management planned their schedule in such a way so they would have the opportunity to get some proper sleep in a hotel every now and then, but this time he has restlessly blown his chance to do so.
Speaking about blowing, though. Ville wondered whether Bam has called him already.
He left the checkmate on the chessboard to the consciousness of his friends.
“May I excuse myself, gentlemen?”
“Sure, gappy,” Mige said tenderly, hugging Linde by his neck and drifting off as well.
Ville climbed onto his shelf and took the phone out of the pocket of his jacket, which he hanged nearby just in case, figuring he could use this time to get familiar with the device at least. The screen of the device said it has seventeen unanswered messages at the moment. Ville’s heart started beating faster. Well of course, the author of all those messages was his Bam.
“Fuck, puss, I would give anything to stand in front of you on my knees right now sucking your dick,” informed him the first message peremptory. Ville rolled over on his stomach thoughtfully.
It got him. Got him real good. You could even say… it got him real hard.
Should he say ‘Hi’? Or is it too late for greetings?
Hell knows how and why, but he completely forgot about the lack of sleep and his own tiredness. He could almost hear Bam’s voice, as if he was right there next to him, and this voice suddenly enslaved him with the silly, blue-eyed naivety and overwhelming sensuality that was showing through the phrases. Good lord, he already wanted to arch his back and… Long story short – he was ready. Alright, guess we’ll skip the greetings this time.
Memories of their night flushed Ville’s mind at once, the scent of Bam’s skin, the way it felt under the touch, and the way Bam touched him. Fucking hell, he wanted more. He was ready to call the phone “Bammy” and French it. In fact, he really did the last part.
“I love you,” the second message read flatly. “Can I eat your ass?”
Ville must have lost the remains of his sanity after the second message, coming to realize there is no way he will be able to get out of this situation without the help of hands. He imagined all of that vividly, lying on his bed with his legs spread, hovering over the electronic device. It was that awkward moment, when he had to bury his teeth into the skin of his hand near his thumb to make sure he does not let out a whimper by any chance. It would be too far from normal, even for a guy like him.
“I remember your scent, I can feel it on my skin still,” the third message was.
“AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH” the forth one screamed.
“Iwantyousobad. Iwantyou. Iwannafuckyou. Ifuckingwantyou.”
“Huh, you know, I’m touching myself right now. I would prefer to touch you, of course. But I can’t. Will you do it for me?”
A barely audible, muffled groan escaped Ville’s mouth. Ville didn’t know whether to laugh or to cry. He was seriously worried that simply the fact that he was pressed with his stomach against his bed was enough for him. Enough for him to cum.
It was utterly terrible.
He has never wanted to touch himself in all the right places so badly. However, the details of him cleaning himself up after that brought him to his senses. It sobered him up even more than the idea of having a pitiful wank, accompanied by Gas’s thunderous snoring. If the other guys find out what he is doing there, they’ll make a laughing-stack at him. All in all, what he wanted to do was unhygienic, unsociable and irrational.
To say that his dick hurt, would be a huge understatement. His whole body was shaking with lust, he could not catch his breath and his thoughts were already far away, ready to cross the burning line of sanity, behind which the words ‘rationality’ and ‘decency’ would not exist for him anymore, behind which he will forget his goddamn dignity as there will be no place left for it. There will be no place left for anything but a desperate desire to set himself free from this agony of voluptuous pain, whatever the hell it would take to do so.
“Will you touch yourself for me? Please… I want it so bad…”
Ville bit his lip, trying to concentrate on typing. The process helped him to regain at least some of his sanity.
“Dear Bammy. At this precise moment I’m in a bus with five men,” Ville reckoned this would explain everything, but Bam was not someone, who would give up so easily.
“Do you realize what you did right there?” Bam replied him with the next message. “Now this picture is stuck in my head!”
Ville covered his mouth with his hand once again, this time trying to hold in laughter.
Bam did not wait for him to reply.
“Mm… Willah with five men in a tour bus. Mmmm… Fuck, I always knew you were a hot bitch. Do you serve them all at once or they take you one by one?”
“Cunt,” Ville answered him shortly.
“Go fuck yourself, dickhead,” Ville replied politely.
“Bad, bad kitty!” Bam did not wait with his answer.
I’m about to fucking combust with desire right here and I can’t even howl.
“I hate you, Bam.”
“I’ll fuck you anyway,” Bam replied.
“You won’t,” Ville typed the answer with his shaking hands. “That’s the problem.”
“Ha.Ha.Ha.Ha.” Bam repeated. He got him just right.
“Do you want to cum in my mouth? I’d love to,” was the next message from Bam. “Fuck, I can’t, I’m gonna cum right now.”
“I miss your taste so much. Guess I’ll have to lick up my own.”
Ville jerked, jumped in place, forgetting where he was, and banged his head hard against Gas’s shelf, swearing loudly. Gas woke up and mumbled something, discontented for being disturbed.
“Hey, Gap-tooth, did you go completely nuts over there?” Mige asked cheerfully.
“Yes,” Ville said.
“Shall we evacuate the bus?” his friend specified.
“Yes,” Ville said.
“Run you fools! We’re all doomed!” Linde shouted in response, waking up at the noise.
“You idiots, let me get some sleep, for fuck’s sake!” Gas tossed on his shelf displeased.
“Gas, you’ve been snoring like a boat engine for the whole night, so please, be a good boy, shut the fuck up and let everyone get some rest at least,” Zoltan responded from his shelf.
“Look who’s talking!” Gas exclaimed indignantly. “You should’ve stayed at home, if you’re too gentle for this, princess!”
“And who the hell are you to tell me what to do?!”
“Well, why the hell someone had to yell and bang his head against my shelf?!”
“I’ll do whatever the fuck I want,” Ville responded optimistically. The argument suddenly took him out of the erotic trance, in which the messages of his new American friend submerged him. The guy was completely out of his mind, judging by their first phone conversation. “I will yell, and swear, and bang my hand against your shelf all night if I want to, and there’s nothing any of you can do about it.”
“Ville, there are more of us,” Mige pointed out. “We will tie you up, roll you into the blanket roll and beat the crap out of you.”
“I’ll kick you out of the band,” Ville’s voice was almost dripping with velvety tenderness. “Shitty club scenes are awaiting for you, my darlings.”
“Ville, has anyone told you you’re a jerk?” Mige asked him from his place behind the table with his voice just as gentle as Ville’s.
“Only three times since yesterday,” Ville snapped. “I’m loosing it, it seems.”
“Are you ok?” Mige asked him seriously.
“I don’t know,” Ville said. “Yes. Or no. Or yes. Actually, no. But it feels good, yeah.”
“Who did you get that phone from, you mugger?”
“It’s a gift,” Ville said playfully.
“Slut,” Mige stated.
“And you’ve got a hairy ass,” Ville snapped in a deep voice an argument, which was an indisputable fact to him, and lit up a cigarette. “Do you want some?” he held up a pack to Mige.
“I’ve already reached my monthly limit of these while I was waiting for you here with your tomcat adventures… yet again. Just when I blessed myself.”
“Are you taking a cigarette or not?” Ville kept holding up the pack to him. “Without love my heart is dead.”
“You save that bullshit for your tender aged fans, they are the ones who rip off their parents to buy the tickets, and throw their underwear at you for this kind of crap,” Mige said. “And yeah, I’ll take a cigarette. What you don’t need is dear at a farthing. And mind you, I’ll take it not for filthy lucre, but merely out of the brotherly love. By virtue of mine one day you won’t smoke that one fatal cigarette and that will save your life.”
“Aww… Thank you, Mige, you’re so sweet,” Ville said, carefully holding up a lighter to the cigarette in Mige’s mouth. “If it wasn’t for you, no one else in this world would take care of me…”
“Who the hell needs you but me…”
“Well, you and I, we live together for ten years already,” Mige agreed with a deadly serious mien, exhaling a cigarette smoke. “I guess we can skip the kissing part easily.”
“Thank you, Mige,” Ville said, pressing his lips against Mige’s cheek and hugging him from behind with his both hands.
“And stop with the licking too,” Mige said sternly. “You’ve got a two-day boner already.”
Ville withdrew from him sharply. Mige did not mean to hurt him, so he turned around to him swiftly and grabbed Ville’s face with his both hands, carefully holding his fingers with the cigarette away from Ville’s hair.
“Look into my eyes, my eyes I said,” Mige said with a crooked smile and then playfully poked his forehead against Ville’s. “Oh, this look… A painful sight, I was the one to see it too, a long time ago. And who is it we’re having this time, a boy or a girl? Who are we going to moon over for now?”
“It’s a boy. I guess. We don’t know yet,” Ville was standing there wistfully with a cigarette in his teeth and his face in Mige’s hands.
“Oh no,” his friend said. “Not again.”
Ville took the cigarette out of his mouth and pouted his lips resentfully.
“Did you go lapping with some dyed faggot yet again, while I looked away? And now he’ll be telling all the journalists that you jerked him off, right? How do you manage to find time for this stuff, huh? Zoltan will get all jealous again, he’ll think you’ve decided to replace him with someone else!”
“Zoltan?! Why?!” Ville wondered.
“What? So you want to replace mine?!”
“No one can replace your instrument for me,” Ville said tenderly. “Although, fairly speaking, I can play bass better than you do. And he’s not a musician at all.”
“Well, you can play by yourself then.”
“Ok-ok, I’ve changed my mind, alright, let’s put it this way, you’re beginning to show some progress on your way to mastering the musical notation.”
“Did it hurt? You must have teared your ass up right there, in attempt to compliment someone, you bastard.”
“Oh fuck, you’re right, Mige, I nearly barfed, while I was saying you that.”
“To be honest with you, we’ll keep it between you, and me, and the lamppost of course, but in my humble opinion none of them is musician,” Mige returned to the subject as if nothing happened, finally taking his hands off Ville’s face and taking a draw on a cigarette.
“Bam-my,” Mige repeated, tasting the sound of the pet form of the name.
“Well, the Bammie from MTV.”
“Oh, the one that was trying to kill you with a skateboard, when you realized you were ‘into sports’? And with whom you partied in London, sneaking out from the supervision of the all-seeing eye of Seppo?”
“Doing fans now, huh?”
“Well…” Ville said in a surprisingly self-conscious manner and threw away the cigarette. “I guess you could say so. But he’s different somehow…”
“Oh yeah, he’s clearly an extremely talented fellow, wants to know all the ins-and-out of a nag’s ass, I guess everyone on MTV is like that, though.”
“You’re so rude to me today,” Ville huffed at him suddenly. “It’s because of Bammy, is it? But mind you, I don’t say any rude things to you for replacing me with some bitch…” The best part was – Ville really believed in what he said.
“With a girlfriend, Ville, she’s a girlfriend…”
“With a human female. I don’t see the difference here.”
“You see, sweety, in a life of every man comes a period, when the man understands that he needs a woman…”
“I’ve already had that period, and, just for the record, I had it before you did,” Ville emphasized on the last part revengefully. “And that period left me with an unbearable psychological trauma.”
“Oh please, don’t start with this shit again.”
“Because of what?”
“I remember the way it ended up the last two times. ‘Mige, you’re my best friend, no one loves me like you do…’”
“Too bad, I liked it,” Ville grinned.
“I won’t fall into the same trap for the third time.”
“Hey, where are you?!” their tour-manager and Seppo stack their necks out of the entrance doors of the hotel. “HELLO! EVERYONE IS WAITING FOR YOU HERE!”
“WE’RE COMING!” Mige shouted. “RUNNING AT THE GOD’S SPEED!”
“Yea-ah… twisting our toes here,” Ville agreed caustically, grabbing his backpack and shambling along Mige. “I’m fucking sick of all of them.”
“Oh, so what’s that were you saying about Bammy?”
Funny as it is, but Ville got conscious at the mentioning of the name again.
“Bammy… I… I don’t know… I have this strange feeling, as if I’ve known him for a lifetime. I used to think it’s some kind of artistic exaggeration, when they say you can talk to a person for five minutes, and feel like you’ve known him for a hundred years already. He’s like a brother to me, only thing is - he’s not my brother.”
“And what if you’re wrong?”
“In that case I’ll buy you a bottle of Jack Daniel’s and will cry on your shoulder during the long nights on the tour bus.”
“What a well-measured and thought-through approach to making decisions,” Mige said.
“But hell… he is… so… cool… and… he is… sexy.”
“Oh, if you say so,” Mige nodded without looking at him, ascending the steps to the doors of the hotels and opening the door. “So what is it you have with him?”
“Well, in fact, I have no fucking idea,” Ville replied cheerfully.
“But he is ‘so… cool’,” Mige mocked him.
“Yeap,” Ville said merrily, without a hint of hesitation.
“And ‘so-o-o… se-e-exyyy’…”
“Oooooh, mmmmmmm… yeaaaaaah,” Ville said with an obscene aspiration and burst out laughing just as they came face to face with their managers.
With a severe look on his face, Seppo handed to each one of them a room-key, an A-4 paper, containing information about their room numbers and instructions on how to call from one room to another, and their schedule for the next two days.
“Everyone can read?” he specified just to make sure.
“Yes, but what letter is this?” Ville asked him straight away, pointing at the letter ‘S’ in the word ‘schedule’.
Seppo looked at him expressively over his glasses.
“Nah, it’s ok, I think get it,” Mige said. “The most part of it at least. Sche-Duh-Du… Scheduhdu…le… it’s when they tell you what to do, Ville.”
“Don’t tell me what I should do, and I won’t tell you where you should go,” Ville retorted, the emerald of his eyes shining in the half-darkness of the hotel lobby.
“Now you have three hours of free time, I’ll meet you after that,” Seppo said through his teeth. “There are a couple of promos pending, the other managers and I will re-confirm the details and then we’ll decide what to do. Any questions? And Ville, before you ask, the second letter in the word ‘scheduhdu-le’ is ‘c’.”
“C,” Ville repeated thoughtfully. “By the way, I hope I’ll see a bath-tub in our room this time at least? Because if it’s the same way as in Paris, where we had that pathetic boy-dormitory-ish shared shower at the end of the corridor, then I’m not going anywhere. Watching Gas’s genitals awakens an irrational phobia in me!”
“Ville, how come you’re already loaded at this hour of morning?” Seppo asked him annoyed.
“That’s what he’s like when he’s sober,” Mige stood up for his friend.
“It’s just the first time you see this phenomena, Seppo,” Ville nodded.
“Alright, alright, you do have a bath-tub in your room, are you happy now, you bloodsucker?” Seppo said.
“Well, we’ll get going then,” Mige said, taking Ville by his arm and walking away, leaving in the air a pensive phrase:
He was not even that surprised.
Well, they had very little time left by the time both of them freshened themselves up after the road, but he was not surprised when somehow, during their chaotic wandering around the room Ville’s body pressed him carefully, but firmly to the wall of the room corridor. Very tactfully and tenderly, yet very firmly, so that his breathing seized. But not out of surprise, no.
“Mize…” he heard a soft murmur near his ear, followed by a gentle touch of the guy’s lips on his neck.
“Fuck you, I knew it would end up this way,” Mige whispered, feeling his limbs and what’s more important his mind, going weak.
“Mize… I need it real bad…” Mige grabbed Ville by his ribs. Pressed to him ever so tightly, Ville’s body was inflamed with desire, he could feel it by the guy’s panting, by the pounding of his heart under his palms. After all, what kind of man in his right mind would ask to get fucked in a broad daylight with such a peremptory impudence and complete lack of any kind of hesitation about a certain humiliating aspect about the whole situation? Quite the opposite, a tinge of humiliation caused by the surgically cold cynicism of the situation was turning on his vis-a-vis even more.
The room went dark before Mige’s eyes.
“Oh boy… the hell you’re doing,” he exhaled, closing his eyes desperately, and feeling the fleeting, wet brushes of Ville’s tongue on his lower jaw sending a wave of all burning flame down his spine.
“How… do you… want me to ask you…” Ville’s words resonated slowly in his arousing from the depth of his mind dick, caressing it gently with each word. Apparently, the refusal was not on the list of possible decisions initially, but Mige was more likely to kill him now, rather than refuse him.
In a state of silent mental confusion, he watched as if through someone else’s eyes as Ville pulled his own tank-top, hoicking it up, and slid down slowly, in one smooth movement, brushing his naked body against Mige’s, rubbing against him from his crotch to his chest, and fucking hell, the fact that Mige was fully dressed was not helping him at all. Psychological violation over his favorite erotic fantasies was far too intense.
“That’s how it is, huh?” Mige said panting, his chest heaving. Ville’s eyes were burning a hole right through his brainpan and Mige was trying to avoid looking into them, because he knew that once he does - he is gone. He was trying to concentrate on the line below his lips, but a quivering jerk of the Adam’s apple on the painfully familiar neck, for some reason called to his mind some wrong images… well, of course, they were the rightest images possible in fact. “We love tender fanboys from MTV, but when it comes to fucking we prefer mates of age, are we?” Mige could not refrain from making a snarky note, to regain at least some of his sanity.
Ville swallowed one more time thoughtfully and kissed him right on his… chin. He seized it with his lips distinctively and let out an impatient moan.
“Fucking hell!” Mige bawled and pushed him away, almost dropping him on the floor only willing to put him into position appropriate for his need. However, Ville did not take an offence at him for that, he only smirked mockingly and licked his lips, watching Mige unzipping his pants.
Holy crap! To what fucking rage of feeling he brought him in three fucking minutes, or whatever was time the guy needed to whisper his black magic spell ‘I really need it, Mize’, that Mige was already pushing his thrilled full-hard dick into his mouth, open invitingly for him, with his shaking hands, and knocking the excited by the caress head of his dick on the guy’s flat tongue to intensify the feeling.
Merely because He needed it.
“Aaaah,” Mige closed his eyes and knocked his head on the wall behind him, concentrating on his feelings. His partner took almost half of his shaft inside of his mouth, carefully and slowly, but picking up the tempo with every second. However, by this point it was already hard to tell, which one of them needed it the most, as it turned into a highly disputable question.
Mige grabbed Ville’s face with his both hands, meeting his maddened glance without any fear this time, because what was there for him to fear anymore, when his dick was already inside of his mouth? He grabbed his face quite roughly, yet with a touch of a severe manly care, and forced him on his dick all the way down for a several times. Making him let out a protesting moan at some point, making him choke, set his hands against his hips and shrink-back in reflexive fright, with his mouth open, trying to catch his breath.
“Ha,” Mige said joyfully. “Is this what you wanted?”
Ville nodded his head thoughtfully, slightly hesitant at first, and then again, with more enthusiasm this time, probably coming to consensus with his inner self. Mige stretched his hands to him and Ville put his face into them himself. They repeated this a several times more. Each time Mige simply could not take his eyes of the process, studying the artistic expressionism of it with the deepest esthetical interest, which has suddenly awoken in him, surprisingly even for himself.
Those moments when the pleasure that his partner was getting from the oral intercourse was obviously turning into the sensation of comfort and rightness, caused in Mige especially acute outbursts of appreciation for esthetics. The moment when pleasure was starting to cause the guy discomfort and pain, bringing him even greater pleasure in some twisted way, in particular.
It was not sadistic from Mige, no. He would not put it that way. No, he definitely would not enjoy watching himself hurting his friend. It was the perverted ability of his friend to get the unique type of pleasure out of a fairly painful process that was dazzling him. That is what Mige meant when he thought about his suddenly aroused esthetic interest and love towards the artistic nature of things. Fairly speaking, he could not comprehend how someone could take erotic pleasure of such power in the process of being choked by his dick. The fact that Ville was enjoying himself in this process was so deeply perverted from his point of view that it was arousing in his heart a thrilled rapture mixed with the deepest comradely respect.
“There, there…” Mige virtually pushed Ville back yet again, much more carefully this time, but the guy was so drunk on desire there was no need to put any extra force to drop him. Standing on his knees, he barely kept himself in an upright position, only thanks to Mige, who got on his knees next to him quickly, grabbing him from behind across his chest with his one hand and below his belly with another, making Ville jerk in his embrace as if he got electrocuted. Making him jerk and moan.
Inherent sense of sexual and erotic etiquette made Mige thank his friend for an outstanding blowjob with a hot and firm kiss. He felt the trembling of the impassioned body in his hands with his whole entity, from his fingers that were gripping Ville’s stiff dick and playing with his nipples in a gruesomely lighthearted manner, to his own lips, which were melting in the most sensual kiss possible.
The kiss that he had to break due to the inevitable sexual and erotic need:
“W-hat?” Ville asked him as if from a completely different realm. Good thing he did not ask him ‘Who’s there’.
“C’mon, take off your pants…”
“Oh,” oh no, he got this fast, real fast.
“Well, I’m sorry, you know…” Mige explained to him the lack of lubricant and sentiments just in case. He was pushing his dick between Ville’s widespread thighs staying almost in the same position they were before that, leaving some space for Ville to move, however, in case his unsentimental trip turns out far too unsentimental for him.
“Ah, fuck,” he hissed, when Ville jerked in his hands once more, making a strange kind of moan, which he was unable to tell for pain or pleasure, but once he was inside he could not control the process anymore.
For the process was controlling him.
It drove him far beyond the realms of respect and morality, when he made Ville change the position and bend his back even more, sticking up his ass to him. In one desperate tug, Mige forced him on his dick, feeling drops of sweat running down his face, feeling nothing but a burning emptiness in his head and white-hot lava in his limbs, and desire to tear this body the hell apart if it only tries to jerk away in attempt to free itself.
However, the freedom was not something the body under him desired.
Even if it jerked somewhere, it was to him, fucking him back with enthusiasm that has not faded even the tiniest bit, evidently.
“Ohhh… Yeah… That’s it… Move like that, yeah…”
He made Ville moan, long and loud, he was clasping his teeth but was unable to stifle his own wheeze that was bursting out from his throat. Ville arched his back even more, biting his own hand to refrain from howling. It was impossible to put into words, what he felt at that moment. All of his insides were inflamed, burning with hellfire of such power that he did not even notice the technical aspect of his friend’s dick moving inside of him, overwhelmed by the firework of emotions that were tearing him apart. The feeling was intensifying with every second, to the point of pain, to the point of agony, to the point when he could not catch his breath or hear anything around him. He must have started howling aloud anyway, because at one moment he thought that he would simply die if it continues even for a second more.
However, exactly at that moment both of them got struck by agonistic seizures of sexual rapture. Which made them cum, clinging to each other as if they were drowning.
A furious knocking on the door brought them back to earth. Mige got on his feet first, for he was almost fully dressed, compared to his partner.
“The hell you guys were bawling your heads off?” Seppo asked them.
He was not alone. Linde, Zoltan and Gas were looming behind his back. Seppo was holding in his hands a thick folder and two cell-phones. What a poor luck, he suddenly got an idea to have a meeting in their room.
A second of Mige’s confusion was enough for Ville to get up from the floor and lean on the bathroom door. Seppo marched past him solemnly, without looking at him. And too bad for him he did not, because Ville was quite a view. He managed to zip up his pants, of course, but his shirt was still gathered somewhere under his armpits. Linde giggled and pushed his fist tenderly into Ville’s stomach.
“He was fucking me up the ass,” Ville answered Seppo’s question peremptory in a very serious tone, exactly when Zoltan was walking past him. Zoltan stared at him startled. First at his lips, which Ville was licking thoughtfully, then at his nipples, as Ville pushed his t-shirt down languorously, brushing the material against them with a hiss, as if it was unpleasant for him, cautious for Zoltan not to miss a single moment of his show.
“He didn’t want me to,” Mige added in a tone matching Ville’s, enjoying the scene.
“Do you have any other joke in store, apart from ‘the ass’ one?” Seppo asked them taking a seat in a chair and putting the documents on a coffee table nearby.
“Yes, we do,” Ville said. “Mige’s got a tiny dick.”
“Hey-hey, easy, you two!” Seppo said, as Mige wordlessly, but very demonstratively lifted his fist at Ville. “We’ve got a TV here, if you break anything again - consider we’ve been touring all this time for free,” Seppo warned them strictly. “Come on, take a seat.”
Linde was already seated on a bed together with Gas. Mige collapsed on the bed next to them at his full speed, and laid there on his side with a mien of a boss. Zoltan took a seat at their legs carefully, hiding his palms between his knees and peeking sideways at Ville. Ville was trying to seat himself in an armchair. Resembling a dog before lying down. He turned around a couple of times, fidgeted in his seat and then froze in a pretentions pose with a barely audible whine. Zoltan kept staring at him with his eyes wide open.
“Hemorrhoids,” Ville raised his eyebrows to play his audience. “Flared up.”
”Ville, not you and not your ass again,” Seppo said.
“And why is he looking at me like that?” Ville exclaimed indignantly.
“Let’s skip the second joke about Mige’s dick.”
“AHAHAHAHAHAHA,” Ville and Mige roared with laughter.
“Seppo, you said it yourself this time,” Ville pointed out.
“He that lies down with dogs,” Seppo shrugged. “Alright, freak-show on the road, let’s get back to business…”
And the night came.
A quiet, peaceful night, in Mige’s and Ville’s room especially.
Mige was watching TV, drinking beer and thinking about everything and nothing, enjoying the silence. The sleeping body of his comrade, who has passed out on the nearby bed did not move or show any other signs of life. Apart from the fact that it was breathing.
It was the rare minute of peace.
Which got interrupted by the ringing of Ville’s phone.
The ring did not disturb Ville’s sleep a slightest bit.
Mige was ignoring the ringing tactfully.
The phone was calling for the fourth time already.
On the fifth time, Mige got up to check whether his beloved roommate was alive at all. He was. But the phone did not disturb him. The smallest thing could interrupt his sleep usually, but the phone did not.
On the eighth time, figuring he should stop it for the sake of sanity of their neighbors at least, if not for his own, Mige grabbed the phone.
‘BAMMY’ was written on the screen.
Damn, alright, maybe there was something wrong.
“Hi Bam, it’s Mige. Is there something wrong? No? Yeah? What? Oh no. No. Everything is fine. Yes, he’s here. He’s sleeping. No, your calls don’t disturb him. Nah, he's alive, I guess. Alright, I’ll try,” Mige said in English. He got up from his bed with a moan and tried to wake Ville up, shake him up somehow. “Hey you, you, wake up, hey… Gap-tooth… hey gap-tooth…” he said the second part of the phrase in Finnish.
“It’s no good,” he told the phone after a couple of minutes. “Bammy, I’m sorry mate, he’s whacked out.”
“Well, shit happens,” Bam said sadly. “Damn.”
“Is there something you wanted to tell him?”
“I wanted to come visit Him,” Bam said honestly. “Can I?”
“Do you need to?” Mige asked him.
“Of course I do, big time,” Bam got flustered.
“Well, come for him then,” Mige’s tone remained completely imperturbable. Same as Ville’s sleep.
“And what if he won’t like the fact that I came all of a sudden, without a warning?”
“I’m sure he won’t,” Mige agreed. “Because he hit his face pretty bad today, it bled even. By the way, don’t believe him if he tells you I beat him up – it’s not true. I never beat him,” Ville’s Finnish mate kept trying Bam’s patience in a tender voice. “Not on the face. And today he told everyone it was me. Well, he can’t tell anything now, because he’s sleeping, so I’m using the chance to tell you - it wasn’t me!”
“So what's happened really?” Bam must have grown slightly anxious on the other end of the line. “You said he’s ok, isn`t he?”
“Well…” Mige pondered. “You know, in fact… how should I put it… let’s say, I know him for a long time already and I’m used to him, but I guess according to the universal standard of ‘being ok’ – he’s not really.”
“Oh c’mon, man, stop scoffing at me, is he alive at all?”
“Yeah, I guess,” Mige said. “Well, he came here on his feet. I mean he was brought here. But he was walking, yeah. He was all covered in blood, though. Well you know. Everything was just fine at first, we’ve been having a little relax session after the gig as usual. Imbibing moderately. Unless one takes into account, the fact that Ville has had a couple of bottles of red wine during the gig already. Then we had a little smoke, the guys found some more booze, Linde fell into rage and attacked the floor-lamp. And then Ville went riding on his skateboard across the hotel corridors. Oh, by the way, maybe you are the one to tell me who gave him that stupid thing?”
“Definitely a nice joke, man,” Bam answered him through his teeth.
“Then we put Linde to bed and went to sleep. I did at least, I fell asleep immediately. And then they woke me up, after a couple of hours. Zoltan has been walking downstairs for some fucking reason. I mean, I don’t know what the fuck he needed at the lobby downstairs, but on his way there when he found our dearest sunshine, weltering in his own blood, unconscious. But that’s just because he was a little bit drunk. The skateboard suffered no damage what so ever. Zoltan brought him here. He brought Ville, I mean. Than we kind of bathed him, treated his wounds, it wasn’t even as bad as we thought, after all. No broken bones at least, and his jaw wasn’t dislocated or anything, he might have earned himself a brain concussion though, I’m not sure, but he decided he needs to drink some more, and that he knows what will help him better than we do. He always believes he knows what to do better than the others do, which is not always the case, I must say, but even I am unable to find the words to reason him out of that belief sometimes. Well, and that’s pretty much it, I think.”
“Oh well,” Bam said.
“Oh well,” Mige said.
“Midge…” Bam called him in an American accent.
“Midge, is he going to be ok?”
“Well, I don’t think he’s that easy to kill.”
“Okay. Thank you, Midge.”
“Any other questions?”
“You think he doesn’t want me to come?” Bam asked him sadly.
“Listen, if you put the question this way,” Mige specified. “I would answer you like this then… err… let’s say, I have good grounds for believing that he wants you to.”
Mige giggled to himself merrily.
“I would even tell you this one thing, Bammy… You know, between us men. You better come. You might get hit in the head. Not literally, of course, within our band, we prefer to damage each other morally rather than physically. We believe it’s more brutal this way. I might even suffer death first. Before you do. Yes, I might not even live through this night, but you, Bam, you better come. I would even put it this way, ‘Bam, if I were you, I would have come yesterday.’”
Mige was knocking himself off, giving away twisted hints and bursting with crackling wit, so that any man in his right mind would have grown doubtful. But not Bam.
“Well, I have a booking website open right here in front of me, which city should I put for destination?” he asked calmly.
The next day Mige knocked on the door of the neighboring room. Zoltan met him right at the entrance, dressed up with a towel wrapped around his hips.
“Aw,” Mige said looking at him.
“Hi,” Zoltan said.
“Turn side-ways, will you,” Mige asked him.
Zoltan did as he said.
“One leg forward. And bend your arm in the elbow. Fuck, that’s it, an Egyptian. An ancient Egyptian you are!”
Zoltan was getting ready for the promos, so he has put his make-up on already. Half-naked, with a thick black eyeliner around his eyes and with his hair dyed black, because in Ville’s opinion dying blond hair black was very ‘goth-ish’, their band mate really did somewhat resemble some typical Egyptian.
“Mige, is this what you came for?” Zoltan asked him drearily.
“Indeed,” Mige said.
Somewhere inside the room, Linde snickered and turned on a hairdryer.
Suddenly, they heard a slam of the door somewhere very close to them. Reflexively, Mige hid his head in his shoulders, his mood switched immediately:
“Well, sure, come on in, ” Zoltan said and went back to the bathroom. Mige entered the room.
Linde was seating on his separate single bed (which was far too narrow for an adult, in Mige’s opinion), dressed in huge boxers, which looked even bigger in contrast with his puny, almost girly frame, and was drying his socks, by pulling one of them on the hotel’s blow-dryer.
“It’s dump still,” He answered the unspoken question in Mige’s eyes.
“Mmm,” Mige said taking a seat next to him. He glanced pensively at the mirror above the table, seeing there a reflection of Linde, who was drying his sock melancholically, and then his own reflection, and the bright day of Barcelona behind the window. There was nothing else for Mige to look at.
The telly in the room was off, because it’s been two weeks since Linde and Zoltan couldn’t agree on what to watch. About a week-and-a-half ago, two of them got into a fight during the process of negotiation, which resulted into a broken TV in their room. This made Seppo to give them a warning and advise them to be more careful henceforth, and say he will have to keep their pay for the week if such thing repeats. Therefore, being wise like Solomon, Linde and Zoltan decided to keep the TV off as a matter of principle. At first, Mige wanted to ask them to choose some TV program according to his taste, but then he got conscious that his taste might match with one of theirs, which would inevitably provoke the conflict even further. Therefore, he just sat there next to Linde, and kept staring through the mirror at Linde’s sock fluttering on the blow-dryer.
Linde wasn’t showing any signs of displeasure by Mige’s presence in the room, he didn’t try to entertain him or pretend to be a hospitable host, he didn’t care at all, he didn’t even bother asking him anything. Thus, they set on the bed next to each other in silence. Meanwhile, Zoltan finished his toilette, came out of the bathroom, and grew slightly anxious at the sight of sad Mige, who sat next to ever-pensive Linde.
“Is there something wrong?” Zoltan asked them in a slightly alarmed voice.
“What?” Mige asked, glancing up at him. “Where?”
“Here,” Zoltan said.
“We’re drying Linde’s socks,” Mige said.
“He’s been doing it all morning,” Zoltan said with a hint of irritation in his voice. “I’ve been awake for two hours already, thanks to that.”
Linde didn’t turn a hair.
“Well, he can’t walk around in wet socks, can he?” Mige stood up for his friend.
“He should’ve tried taking an extra pair with him, maybe?” Zoltan asked, walking to a table and pouring himself a glass of water.
“Maybe you should’ve taken an extra pair with you?” Mige asked Linde, for, apparently, these two didn’t talk to each other and were ignoring addressing each other directly.
“I had another pair,” Linde said. “It vanished into thin air. Tell him there’s no way he could’ve slept anyway, thanks to the unforgettable wail of a crocodile that we listened to all this morning. By the way, Mize, was it coming from your room, by any chance?”
“It was,” Mige had to admit. He decided there was no point to translate the phrase from Finnish to Finnish for Zoltan. “That’s why I came here. The thing is, I’m against the murder of living creatures, generally, but ten minutes ago I caught myself thinking that sometimes it can serve the Ideals of Humanism. You know, I don’t like it when thoughts of such kind come across my mind.”
“We hit our head,” Mige said.
“How many times in one hour, may I ask? What kind of head can last for so long?” Linde grinned.
“Nah, we hit it only once, in fact. Last night. Hasn’t Zoltan told you?”
“We don’t speak to each other,” Linde stated the obvious.
“I figured that much,” Mige said. “Gap-tooth plowed the parquet in the corridor with his clock last night.”
“Well, there are marks left.”
“Damn,” Linde said. “Seppo will keep our money yet again.”
“Oh no-no, the parquet suffered no damage.”
“Yay, that`s better. Hail Satan then!” Linde said.
Someone started kicking at the door.
“Tell him I’m not in here,” Mige said.
“Mige asked me to tell you he’s not in here,” Zoltan said revengefully.
“Open the door and no one will get hurt,” the door said in Ville’s gentle voice.
“Open the door,” Linde said to Zoltan, breaking their taboo of talking to each other.
“Why me?” Zoltan wondered.
“I’m drying my socks,” Linde said.
“He loves you,” Mige said. “Add to that: it is always wiser to sacrifice the least valuable member of the team.”
Zoltan opened the door silently.
“MIGE, MY OVERGROWN BABY, COME BACK TO ME!” Ville barked, his gleeful bright bass resonating in the hotel corridor as he eyed Zoltan with his shining eyes, staring right through him. “I MISS YOU! I CAN`T BE WITHOUT YOU. IT FEELS SO EMPTY INSIDE!”
“Looking for a prey…” Linde mumbled quietly under his breath. “Ghoul.”
“Gap-tooth,” Mige corrected him.
Ville mistakenly took Mige’s phrase on his account, and leaped on the bed next to him, taking a seat by his side:
“Hello, Ville,” Zoltan said quietly.
“Hi, guys,” Ville responded without looking at him.
“Live long and prosper!” Linde greeted Ville with the Vulcan salute. Ville rose his hand with his fingers parted between the middle and ring finger, like Spock in ‘Star Trek’.
“Warthog,” Ville pushed Mige on his shoulder gently. “Mon Amour…”
“I feel I shall pee in your shoe tonight,” Mige said.
“Deal,” Ville said. “Well, let’s get going?”
“Do you mind me being naked?” Linde asked.
“We don’t mind… In fact, Lily, we don’t mind you naked at all…” Ville said, reclining on Linde’s bed and eyeing his scantily clad mate musingly. “By the way, why are you naked, Lily?”
“The great Jah manifested a revelation on me, telling me that wearing clothes from material different than cannabis seed is a sin,” Linde said quietly and seriously.
“Was the blow-dryer thing his idea as well?” Ville inquired.
“My socks are wet because the pomaded fuckface right there poured them over with a shower,” Linde said mildly, pointing at Zoltan.
“The fuck did you just…”
“Awww, look at you, handsome,” Ville just noticed their bandmate’s wonderful make-up, apparently. Zoltan stopped short out of surprise, forgetting what he was about to say to his roommate. “You’re gonna steel all my fans tonight!”
“It’s ok, Ville, don’t be jealous, you’ve got a fanboy of your own from now on,” Mige reminded him kindly. “So you’re already set for tonight.”
“Yeaaaaaaaaaaah,” Ville said dreamily.
“What are you talking about?” Zoltan wondered.
“Well, you know, Wham-Bam.”
Ville roared with laughter.
“Who?!” Zoltan wondered.
“Bum-Bam,” Mige explained.
“Wham-Bam!” Ville kept howling gleefully, and then he turned serious all of a sudden and set up. “By the way, Zoltie, do something with my face, will you? You seem to be pretty good at it.”
“Ville, what about me to do something with your face?” Mige asked him extremely tenderly.
“No. You won’t, because my jaw hurts,” Ville replied in a deadly serious manner.
Linde turned off the hair-dryer and shouted with laughter:
Surprisingly, Ville got the joke and appreciated it.
“In fact, what I meant to say is we need to cover this thing up somehow, you know, so it doesn’t strike the eye so much…” He clarified, pointing at the bruise on his chin.
“Exactly, I could kiss you with my fist on your jaw from the other side, for the symmetry, it would look great on the photo,” Mige explained his offer.
“No,” Ville said. “ I desire to be handled with care for today. Ha. Zoltie, sweetheart, will you cover up this bruise for me?..”
“Of course I will, my darling,” Zoltan said mannerly, probably imitating an experienced make-up artist and stylist.
An interview, a TV show for teens and a photoshoot went fine, more or less.
`Twas brillig, as they say.
They were going to have a night transfer to another city, so now their team was gathering up at the hotel lobby one by one, waiting for the bus. Ville was sitting on a leather couch with his legs crossed and kept smoking one fag after another, looking slightly edgy.
Seppo was engaged in a phone conversation at the table nearby. Gas has put his headphones on and was either napping or meditating on the couch next to Ville. Mige and Linde stood near the pile of their belongings and were having a lazy conversation about the allegedly forthcoming movie based on the Tolkien books. Their tour manager, the main technician and Zoltan came downstairs all at the same time. Zoltan joined the group, yawning and slightly quivering with cold.
The very same instant, their attention was distracted by a battle-cry:
“WHAM-BAM!!!” Mige greeted him cheerfully.
“DON MIGUEL!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!” Bam happily threw himself into Mige’s embrace.
“LIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIILYYYY!!!” Bam shouted merrily, trying to leap from Mige to Linde. He almost fell on the floor in the process, as Linde mindfully took a step aside opening to Bam’s sight the reason he came here all the way from the other side of the ocean.
“WILLAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!!!!” Even Seppo gave a start, almost dropping his phone, as the expressive yell pierced the air in the lobby.
For a second, Mige thought that the pounce of this young lion male is going to sweep away not only their frontman, but also the couch with Gas all together. He was about to throw himself after Bam, to prevent him from causing any more damage to their injured mate, but Bam managed to lose the speed in the air and sidle to Ville on his tiptoes like a giant cat. Covertly, he slid to Ville’s side, buried his nose into his neck and whispered loudly:
“Kit-ty,” Mige tasted the sound of the word, repeating it slowly with an inexplicable silent amazement in his voice. Of course, the excessive vulgarity of the phrase was adding a certain humorous aspect to the situation, and of course Bam did it on purpose, but for some reason, the way he carefully wrapped his hands around Ville as if he was a priceless vase made of china, together with the awe in his eyes, as he froze for a second before pressing his lips gently to the corner of Ville’s mouth, called to mind some things, which were far from humorous.
Linde started giggling, nevertheless, covering the lower part of his face.
It was a long day, and Mige has shared with him the whole story, well, the most of it at least, he did skip a couple of intimate details here and there. Mige has warned Linde that it seemed like in the near future they were going to contemplate a spectacular circus show with horses, tigers, clowns, wire-dancers and sward-swallowers all in one act, all at the same time.
The wildest thing about the situation was the fact that Ville didn’t seem to notice any humor in it. Or, rather, he made a conscious decision not to notice it. He was lost in the embrace, his whole body seemed to shrink in size as he drew closer to Bam with his eyes closed, he even seemed to let Bam drag him on top of his knees.
Zoltan pulled a long face.
“But… how?” he asked the creation.
“This is our number one fan,” Mige said. “Well, he is a bit too excessive about showing his feelings…”
“Consequences of a long separation from each other,” Linde nodded.
“Isn’t he the American guy who’s been drinking with us two days ago?”
“Two days, what an awfully long time,” Linde said emphatically.
Bam’s hand was gently sliding up and down Ville’s thigh, his palm reaching further and further every time. Mige and Linde were barelly holding in a laughter looking at the uttermost shock written on Zoltan’s face.
“What is this?” he gestured in the direction of the living replica of Roden’s ‘Eternal spring’, bewildered by Bam’s hand on Ville’s butt especially. Just like that, in the broad light of day, in front of every-fucking-one.
“It seems like this is going to live with us,” Mige said seriously.
And then, something even stranger happened, something none of them expected to happen at the moment. In some miraculous way, Ville managed to put his knees on the couch and throw Bam over himself in a clean judo technique with a delighted yell. Apparently, Bam didn’t see that coming as well, because he shrieked at first, but then he burst out laughing, because Ville didn’t drop him, but put him on the floor ever so gently and carefully. Bam didn’t ease his grip, so in the end both of them flopped down on the floor.
Bam pulled up his knee and put it against Ville’s chest throwing him aside, making him fall on his back and climbing on top of him. Ville regained the leading position in a matter of seconds.
“Is this a fight or a just a mating dance?” Gas asked from a couch, taking off his headphones and watching the scene with great interest, just as everyone else in the lobby.
“I don’t know,” Mige said. “We’ll see how it goes. You can never be sure when it comes to this kind of things, you know. GAP-TOOTH,” he called loudly over the hall in Finnish. “ARE YOU FIGHTING OR HAVING SEX THERE?”
“What’s Miguel shouting?” Bam asked delighted by the fact that Ville was sitting solemnly on his hips, pressing him to the floor with his weight.
“He’s asking whether we’re fighting or having sex,” Ville translated.
“IF HIS ASS STAYS ON MY DICK,” Bam yelled happily in English from under Ville, so everyone in the lobby could hear him. “THEN I’M NOT SURE ABOUT HIM, BUT I’M GOING TO COME! SO I’M HAVING SEX HERE FOR SURE!”
“HOLY SHIT!” Ville hopped off Bam like a rocket, making Mige, Linde, Zoltan and Gas reel over with laughter. Even Seppo tittered sneeringly, adjusting his glasses. Bam’s visit was not a surprise for him, because Bam had asked his manager Daniel to give Seppo a call.
Bam got on his feet as well, giggling, same as everyone else around them. Even though his victory in this round was sneaky, it was quick and decisive. By this time, the bus approached. Linde patted Bam on his shoulder as he passed, and Mige said approvingly:
Bam pushed Ville up the stairs of the bus, poking his head against Ville’s ass, and let everyone know straight away that he was there to entertain them, to make sure they don’t throw him out of the window as an unnecessary cargo at the first gas station.
Peculiar, Ville made a note to himself. Bam brought with him some videotapes with all the pilot episodes of his ‘Jackass’ show, and was more than eager to show it to them. It wasn’t a bad idea considering the night transfer. They were laughing their asses off for three hours straight, since there was noting else to do, anyway. They sat there sipping beer, watching the show and laughing. Bam was hopping around the bus, telling them about his friends and the project in living colors. Steve-O, Ryan, Novak, Raab… Even Zoltan seemed to accept his presence. Ville forgot about his goddamn undying erection even, looking at the self promotion that Bam put up for himself.
“One day, I want to make a video with you guys as well,” Bam said. “That’s a dream of mine.”
It’s important to understand the way he said it. He was standing under the table on his all fours. Ville was sitting near the window, and Mige was right next to him, so Bam crawled under the table resting one of his hands on Ville’s knee and the other one on Mige’s, and whispered the above-mentioned phrase in a seductive tone.
“Does that mean that as a director you see our band getting hit on the balls, steppling underpants to our asses and running around the streets of New York… or whatever it was, Philadelphia.. Dressed in thong?” Mige specified.
“You’re gonna do whatever he wants you to,” Bam said, and bestowed a passionate smooch on Ville’s knee.
“You have no idea what you’ve signed yourself up to just now, brother,” Mige said. “Or do you?”
Ville cracked up throwing his head back and crossing his hands on his chest. Just as passionatelly, Bam theatrically imprinted a smooch on Mige’s knee.
“You bastard,” Mige said. “For fuck’s sake, you can’t even see anything from there.”
“Everything I need to see is right here,” Bam said, making both of them laugh again and drag him from under the table onto their knees. Now he was taking the front row seat lying on their knees, and moreower, Ville was thoughtfully scratching him under his chin, as if he was some kind of kitty or doggie.
“Fucking meow,” Bam said cheerfully. “Hey… Hey, don’t… Stop choking me,” he said a second later, when his ‘fucking meow’ reached Ville’s brain. “I’ve told my manager were I was going! So you’ll be the one in charge in case of a casualty.”
“Awwwww,” Ville said, extremely upset.
“Scratch me there some more,” Bam asked.
“Yeah Ville, scratch him there some more, will you,” Mige seconded him. “What’s the big deal?”
It was no big deal for Ville. To scratch him there. No big deal at all. The thing was, Bam didn’t just lie with his head on Ville’s knees, he was touching Ville’s palm with his lips and his tongue every time Ville’s hand came close to his mouth with a nonchalance of a child. Ever so lightly, so it was almost invisible from a side, yet very sensitive for Ville. By this time, Ville’s mind was clouded, to say the least. His whole entity turned into senses. He felt the weight of Bam’s body on his knees, he felt the gentle touch of his lips that was giving him a prickly sensation somewhere below his tummy in a bulging area in his pants somewhere under Bam’s back. He felt Bam’s scent, the smell of his perfume mixed with the smell of his fresh clothes, the scent of his skin and his hair, and most of all, he felt sorry for himself. Because he wanted to fuck, and instead of that, he had to sit there, stare at the TV and watch the stupid stunts Bam and his friends were doing on the screen.
“And this is Missy, right?” Ville asked when he saw some chick on the screen next to Bam.
“No, this is Jen,” Bam said.
“That explains everything,” Mige flashed his eyebrows, opening a pack of nuts.
Linde and Gas shared a short laugh.
“She’s my girlfriend now,” Bam said.
“The one you’ve been friends with since sixth grade?” Ville asked him, melting Bam’s heart with a totally unexpected attention to details of his biography.
“Nah, the thing is I was in love with her since I was a kid.”
“In love with Jen?” Gas prompted.
“No, with Missy.”
“But she didn’t let you into her pants and this one did?” Linde helped him.
“Linde, man, you’ve got the very essense of the problem right there,” Bam agreed easily. “You see, Jen, she’s older than me, and she has a kid.”
“Wow,” Ville said unexcited.
“So, in a way, that makes me a father as well,” Bam giggled. “A hero-father! Only… without the ‘father’ part.”
“Ha-ha-ha. It happens that way,” Mige agreed. “More often than all of us would like it to.”
“We’ve got an open relationship!” Bam said with a tone of apology in his voice. “She knows about the other girls! Well, and so what? But I’ll bang Missy anyway. Actually, a couple of times I was this close… Ville, why did you stop petting your pussy?” Bam asked cunningly.
“Stopped petting my what?” Ville asked him, making big pauses between the words, so his bandmates burst with laughter.
“Your Bammie-cat,” Bammie said innocently.
“I’m tired,” Ville said coldly, he didn’t like that in the end everyone was laughing at him. “Bam, I’m tired of you.”
“Howcooome?” Bam drawled. “I’ve only just begun.”
“And I’m already bored,” Ville said sharply.
“It’s not faaaaaaair…”Bam whined. “I’m gonna bite you on your knee.”
“Go ahead. AAAAAAAAAAAAAAH! ARE YOU NUTS?!”
“Hurts, right?” Bam asked happily, unclutching his teeth. And why not? The knee was right there, within his reach.
“It does,” Ville agreed.
“Let me kiss you where it hurts,” Bam whispered tenderly.
“For chrissake, Bammie,” Ville said anxiously. “We let you to lie on our laps, so lie the fuck still.”
“Like a dead fish?” Bam prompted innocently.
“Like a dead fish,” Ville agreed.
“Do you like dead fishes?”
“I’m a dead fish.”
For a couple of seconds the dead fish lay still, pondering over the situation. Mige was crunching his nuts loudly. The silence of the dead fish didn’t last for too long.
“Why are you so angry then? You don’t approve of open relationships?”
Automatically, Linde and Zoltan exchanged glances behind their backs, Gas snickered and stole a couple of nuts from Mige.
“I only fuck the ones I love,” Ville snapped. He fell into a muse for a couple of seconds and then added:
“Yea-ah, you do…” Mige nodded thoughtfully, and then he considered it a little, and repeated in an inquiring tone this time:
Even Ville couldn’t believe his ears. Bam fell silent all of a sudden. Ville cast a sidelong look at Mige, but his friend was completely wrapped-up in Brandon’s TV show.
“Ville, do you want some nuts, my dear?” Mige asked.
“Choke on it, sweetie,” Ville said tenderly in a breathy voice.
“Midge, can I have some nuts as well?” Bam asked.
“Of course, take my nuts, Vanessa,” Mige said, pouring the snack generously into Bam’s outstretched palm.
Everyone started laughing. At the nuts. Bam got the joke about the nuts:
“Because of Midge,” Mige explained.
“Will-ah!” Bam drawled in a fretful voice, hitting his head against the wall of the bus. “They are making fun of me and I don’t even get where to laugh!”
“Erosfe-e-e-era,” Mige drawled.
“Ero-what-the?!” Bam exclaimed in despair.
“Mige’s been reading this vintage erotic novel…” Ville started explaining.
“…about lesbians,” Ville continued. “The main heroine of the book is called Midge and her lover’s name is Vanessa.”
“AHAHAHAHAHAHA,” Bam said happily.
“And Ville shares this affection of mine,” Mige finished his thought.
“Affection to Vanessa?” Bam specified cunningly.
“No, to vintage pornography,” Mige clarified. “Although, in fact, I haven’t asked him that question. Ville, do you love Vanessa?”
“I hate all of you in general,” Ville said ungraciously, resting his head against the window glass.
Gas was giggling into his ear and his over-grown Amour of a friend, who held Bam’s ass on his knees, was crunching his shack loudly, making comments about the events happening on the screen. All of a sudden, Ville thought that he didn’t even want to fuck anymore.
What he wanted to do now was to stretch out languorously on some bed with Bam, just two of them, side by side, skin on skin, breath to breath, in a bed, so there would be no need to hurry, no need to snatch every given moment to jump on each other feverishly behind every corner, like a pair of fucking dogs. Or maybe it was because he was tired and that’s all?
“And this is Ryan, he’s my best friend,” Bam said. “He’s a skater, too, we always go to all the contests together, we’ve been friends since childhood.”
Thoughtfully, Ville took a leak and meditatively washed his hands in a tiny sink under a thin trickle of water, holding onto the mirror with his forehead, if you could put it that way. He nestled his forehead against the glass to keep himself from falling in a jolting bus.
He didn’t know what has gotten into him all of a sudden.
He had no rational reason for that. Feeling of self-pity, together with fear and anxiety flushed all over him suddenly, causing a desperate gnawing sensation in the pit of his stomach. Of course, he had no grounds or rights to feel jealous. Moreover, it was rather hard to tell what exactly should be the cause of his jealousy. Whether he should be jealous of Ryan, Missy, Jen, or Bam’s friends, or the lifestyle he was living all together.
He only just fell in love, he didn’t even have time to sort out his feelings yet, but he already felt the phantom dragging sensation, the ghost of the future pain that Bam will cause him merely by the fact of his existence in his life. Dear god, he was being ridiculous. He knew nothing about the guy, and he just fell head over heels for him, trusted him just like that, believed in a fairy-tale like a little fucking kid. The jealousy was stupid, the fear was foolish and the self-pity was gutless, but on the other hand, his mind that has been dazzled by the overwhelming sensual intoxication felt a little bit clearer.
Maybe, he should brace himself somehow and leave it all as it is, leave it a fairytale, which he invented in his head. Sure, it will hurt for a while, the pain of not getting what he wanted will bother him for a some time. But then it will go.
Well, at least they say it should.
At the moment, the prospect of putting it into practice looked pretty easy to him.
He heard outbursts of laughter behind the door. It felt like the way Bam talked, the intonations of his voice, which became so near and dear to him already, were caressing him from the inside.
All of a sudden, the idea didn’t seem so easy to accomplish anymore. But to be honest with himself, there was absolutely no need for Bam to have him in his life. Week in the knees, he creeped out of the toilet, only because it would be impolite to stay there for so long. If it were up to him, he would’ve spent the rest of his life in there.
“Hey, Gap-tooth, are you fine?” Mige shouted in Finnish.
“I am tired,” Ville said. “I need to lay down for a bit.”
In fact, he wasn’t even lying so far. He really needed that. He needed to lay down. He really was tired. He smoked a ciggy or two in the back side of the bus, lay down, and even seemed to dose off on the couch for a couple of hours.
When he lifted up his head, he saw that the setting in the bus has changed quite a bit.
The light got dimmed, and everyone was crawling back into their dark corners and burrows little by little. Linde put his headphones on. Gas went back to his container to play some games, while Mige and Zoltan were preparing to turn in.
In fact, it were their movements that woke him up.
Bam approached him with a certain tint of uneasiness.
“Are you feeling alright?” He asked, taking a seat next to him on the leather couch hesitantly. “You look kinda pale…” It sounded a little bit stupid, the way he was trying to baby-talk Ville, but what else was there for him to do?
“It’s the make-up,” Ville snapped rather stern. “We must have gone a bit too far trying to cover up the bruise. Want some?” He offered Bam a pack of smokes.
“Sure. Aren’t you happy to see me?” Bam asked him point-black.
Ville was glad that Bam decided to be straightforward about it. He tilted his head back, sliding down the couch:
Bam scratched his head:
They kept puffing in silence for some time.
“Why are you here, Bam?” Ville asked him again in the same tone.
“First of all, ‘why’ wasn’t the question from the start.”
Ville exhaled the last cloud of gray cigarette smoke into the air and stubbed out his fag in an ashtray.
“Moreover, even ‘when’ wasn’t,” Bam said. “In fact, the only thing in question was where is it the fucking ‘here’. I know, I chose a bad place to come, but you see, I couldn’t be sure you’d meet me in a warm bed with your open arms these days. All naked and ready.”
“And why is that?” Ville resented all of a sudden, he suddenly felt underestimated. It was contradicting to his previous thoughts, but it was honest.
“Now we’re getting straight to the point. What’s you problem?”
“I’m scared,” Ville said. Funny, but for some reason he felt it would be easier for him to tell Bam what he is scared of straight away, rather than keep eating himself out with these thoughts from inside. Maybe it was because he had nothing to lose, or maybe the dark night on the common couch, together with the dimmed light and snoring of his band mates were making the atmosphere more intimate.
“You? Scared?” Bam looked astonished.
“Why do you need me?” Ville asked him.
“Huh?” Bam asked.
He put out his cigarette, too, and slid down the sofa. Now they lay athwart to each other, abutting into one another with their heads and shoulders.
“Listen, you have your life, and I have my own,” Ville half-whispered. “Fuck, I feel myself like an idiot.”
He hasn’t withdrawn neither his shoulder, nor his face from Bam. Bam could feel his breath, his warmth. In fact, even if Ville were to explain him the quantum mechanics right now, the result would be the same. Bam could getting a hard-on anyway. And it wasn’t just your usual erection, it was the kind of arousal that was causing a hurricane of burning pleasure in him. Bam could break into purr right there, but he was afraid Ville’s friends would wake up. So he just turned his head a bit, and licked Ville into his ear. Ville jerked, and tried to shrink back with a hiss, but failed to do so, and quickly lay back, and it was a good fucking sign. Bam thought this must be the way tantric sex should feel. Well, he read about it somewhere. It is something about lying next to another person, not even too close, but in such a way that your heads are touching each other’s. You get wrapped in a dense cocoon of eroticism, when everything, be it even the slightest change in the pitch of voice, or breath, or simply a pause between the words, causes the feeling of ecstasy in your body, and inflames you even more.
“I’m too old for you,” Ville said. “You and I, we’re too different. Fuck, I don’t even speak English…”
“Oh, you don`t?” Bam asked him amazed. “Well, let’s switch to Finnish then. My Finnish is much better than your English, I guess.”
Ville laughed. Exactly what Bam wanted to achieve.
“I’m always wrapped into all this music stuff, always on the road, it’s a part of my soul, but I… I don’t know, I’m a flatliner without a sense of humor… Fetch me some beer, I can’t talk about all this shit while I’m sober…”
“Sober my ass, you’re at least six beers deep, I saw it with my own eyes.”
“No. I am sober,” Ville insisted.
“Oukaaay… As you wish, Master,” Bam chuckled and reached for a can of beer. He even opened it for Ville. He even tried to save him the bother, holding the can for his mate and inclining it slightly, so Ville could drink without using his hands. But it all went wrong, of course, the beer poured all over them, so Bam had to catch it with his mouth and lick it from Ville’s chin, which turned out to be injured. Ville tried to yell and push him away, so after all, they ended up pouring even more beer all over them. Bam covered Ville’s mouth with his hand, feeling his lips under his palm, feeling the willing body under him and, as a matter of fact, he had no regrets what so ever.
Well, of course, he was a fool for hoping to catch the band in some sweet little hotel and quietly snick Ville away at night to have the time of their life in a separate room. He couldn’t even imagine rock stars like HIM would be travelling like some cheap fucking tourists. But he had absolutely no regrets. He was glad he brought the videotapes with episodes of his MTV show with him, he was glad he got to meet the guys. He understood that if the gang accepts him so will Ville, and if they don’t – Ville won’t as well. Well, all in all, he did realize he has goofed up.
He lifted his palm from Ville’s mouth and touched his lips against Ville’s. Carefully. Gently. Minding the wound. But persistently at the same time. And holy fuck, it killed him again. The hot tenderness of Ville’s lips was giving him a brain paralysis. The overwhelming sensation of touching each other with raw nerves, which was making him lose control. And he hasn’t even dared to turn the kiss into a classic French one yet. I’ll fucking die once I fuck you, Bam told to himself. If you fuck me, I’ll fucking return from the land of the dead. Holy cripes, they were kissing like two little girls with the tips of their lips, but it was impossible to put into words the way Ville was blowing his mind. Bam was ready to ask the bus driver to stop and go get the nearest motel on all of his money.
“Puss, are you on PMS or something?” Bam chuckled into his mouth regarding Ville’s speech earlier.
“I’m scared to fall in love with you,” Ville said, catching his lips. “I want to. But I’m scared. I’m afraid that... I… That I… Perhaps, I do love you already…” And damn, the way he showed Bam that he’s not ‘a kitty’ made it only worse.
“So I can fuck you right now?” Bam asked. But no one could hear him for sure, as he said it into Ville’s mouth.
“Are you insane?” Ville asked him indignantly.
Bam forced their jaws open, thrusting his tongue inside. Somehow, he managed to climb on top of Ville at the same time, seizing his leg between his thighs. Contrary to the stated indignation of its owner, Ville’s leg was eagerly stimulating Bam’s ass, and his dick, and his balls all together. Well, Bam understood where Ville's reasoning was coming from. That was the problem. He understood that. He understood everything. Bam understood why Ville was whimpering against his will when he was pushing his tongue inside of his mouth.
“I won’t hurt you, unless you want me to,” Bam chuckled. “Do you want me to stop?”
“That’s the problem,” Ville chuckled as well, taking Bam’s tongue back into his mouth, letting it go and then catching it in the air and letting it go yet again. “I don’t.”
Bam pushed his palm inside of Ville’s pants, thank god, or whoever was responsible for this, there they were pretty loose around Ville’s slim stomach. Straight away, he found there everything he needed – a tuft of hair on his pubic, his stiff cock and his balls and the main thing he found out that Ville wasn’t wearing any underwear.
“You were waiting for me, weren’t you?” He whispered hotly and ecstatically into Ville’s ear.
“I was waiting for you,” Ville said.
There was something about it that was making Bam turn into an animal. He took his palm out of Ville’s pants, licked it up and put it back inside. This way it would slide better on his dick, and he liked to feel Ville’s taste right now. He leaned down to share the taste with the guy under him. Crushing his mouth against Ville’s, thrusting his tongue deep inside of his mouth and feeling his palm sliding smoothly along the coveted genitals. And the next time… next time Ville grabbed his palm by himself and licked it up, causing Bam’s jaw drop to the floor at the sight of it. He’d only seen such things in porn. All of a sudden, the tuft of hair in Ville’s pants together with his dick in his palm that was making the sweetest barely audible squishing sound because of all the saliva, became the center of Bam’s perception. The center of his Universe.
“More,” whispered the mouth under him.
Here, Bam had to make his apologies to the creation. He did mean well. He didn’t want to cause Ville any trouble and by no means did he want to discredit his goddamn male authority, but at the moment, he wanted to tear off these fucking pants from his ass and molest over Ville’s boyish dignity in the most prosaic way, not giving a flying fuck about the consequences. Why bother mentioning this? Because despite the darkness that was scorching his eyes and his heart, trying not to look down, not to hear Ville’s breath and not to feel his desire driven body clinging to him, with hatred in his voice Bam forced himself to utter through his clenched teeth:
Bam was just hoping the other guy won’t ask him ‘and how do you want?’ He was ready to get down under the table and suck his dick, and he would be glad if Ville would do the same for him. In fact, petting would go too, anything would go, as long as Ville didn’t make him choose.
Because Bam knew perfectly well how exactly he wanted to come, he just didn’t know what will be the cost of it.
“Get off me,” Ville told him in a painfully rude tone.
“Fucking where?” Bam asked. This came completely unexpected for him. He withdrew from Ville, sitting up in a shocked anticipation.
“Fucking there,” Ville said, gesturing with his head in the direction of the opposite seat. He was lying on his back as he said it, touching himself obscenely where Bam has been rubbing him so joyfully just a moment ago.
And it was the moment when actions spoke louder than words. Bam was fucking lost for words seeing that he left Ville in such a state. He was fucking gobsmacked by the feeling that Ville enjoyed being with him so much that he was literally jerking off right there in front of him, spreading his legs wide and copying the way Bam’s hand was touching him before. And Bam saw his face as he arched his back desperately with every move of his hand on his dick. This view shocked Bam so fucking much that he would probably agree to jump out of the bus at the full speed after that, if Ville asked him to, he was so fucking shocked that he leaned down and kissed Ville’s hand before climbing off him and seating where he’s been told to. He wouldn’t get off him, but Ville got up on his feet and started rumbling through his belonging, looking for something.
On his wobbly legs, Bam stumbled over to the stated seat, holding with his hands to the table. He pulled down his pants as low as he could and sat down. He didn’t know what HE had on his mind, he didn’t give a fuck as long as it included some interaction between Ville and his erogenous zones.
Eventually, he was sitting there on a couch in HIM’s tour-bus with his bare ass and with a boner straight and beautiful like the goal of the Founding Fathers, waiting for further instructions from the Deity. He couldn’t even dream anymore. He was in such a state that he would approve of anything, even if Ville decided to pee in his mouth. Truly. He would be pretty much satisfied even with that. For that reason, he was trying not to dream too much, and he only regained his consciousness when he felt something plastic touch his stomach.
“What’s this?” He asked astonished.
“A condom,” Ville said tenderly.
“What for?” Bam asked.
“There are like fifteen liters of water in this bus for everyone to share,” Ville said, unzipping his pants thoughtfully.
“Aw, right,” Bam said, taking the tip of the condom with his fingers and obediently rolling it down on himself. “And there’s lube on it as well.”
“Exactly,” Ville nodded.
“Come here,” Bam said. And Ville didn’t object this time. He pulled his pants down as low as he could without actually taking them off and climbed on top of Bam’s knees facing the table, basically straddling him.
In fact, the only thing Bam could see at the moment was Ville’s bare ass in front of him. Ville’s ass that was stripped down just for him, sitting on top of his knees. Right above his hard dick. Showing his enthusiasm, he smacked both of the cheeks, and even kissed each one a couple of times. He couldn’t tell anymore whether it was him or someone else looking at this, once he felt his Idol and his God sliding down on his dick, slowly, stopping somewhere at the first third of it.
Still unable to bear this sight, Bam simply pushed Ville away from him, making him stretch out on the table in front of them with his thighs spread wide. He stood up, pulling Ville closer to him and put his tongue where it was probably desired the most, but expected the least. And so what? So what?! He would love to make him come just like that, huh, and why not? He didn’t expect it. Well, of course, he was waiting for something like that when he was jerking off at Ville’s image back at home, but in no way did he expect that his mischievous tongue will get such a warm reception. Ville was moaning mildly, keeping the volume down for the sake of sanity of his bandmates, but at the same time every millisecond he kept moving towards his tongue. In fact, Bam was ready for whatever comes once he realized Ville’s been preparing himself for their meeting, but this came to him as a surprise anyway. All of a sudden, he realized that he could easily spend the whole night licking Ville’s ass, simply because he knew that he had never had sex like this before in his life, and simply because he believed that after this he would be allowed to do anything.
He took Ville’s booty back onto his knees and this time knowing his rights and responsibilities he was more persistent, pushing his hips up and pulling Ville’s hips down at the same time. Making him go further down on his shaft. Understanding his indignation, which he showed by grabbing his forearms, but at the same time Ville turned his head to Bam, so they managed to lock their lips in a kiss. Fucking hell, the fact that Ville was doing it by himself was knocking Bam off his feet like no other situation would.
Bam would have never dared to do it by himself for the first time.
He knew it was painful. He knew it was terribly uncomfortable at some point, and he did know what happens afterwards, but he would never have made this first revelation by himself. And for that reason at the moment he saw an angel in Ville’s ass that was already half way down on his dick. An angel fallen from grace. A fucking witch-angel. He couldn’t care less which angel exactly he saw in Ville’s ass on his dick. He just said his prayers to himself, called unto a couple of Satans and one Buddha, together with Baphomet and Metatron… everyone who came into his mind basically, and forced his lover all the way down on his dick.
A couple of minutes later, when he realized that this whole thing was working up and down by itself without his help, he immediately wanted to get up and cross himself, but again, he wasn’t sure whom he should thank for this.
“Fuck, Ville, c’mon, c’mon, yeah… Do me, baby…”
“Don’t yell, dammit.”
Well, it’s not like it was an unexpected response.
“If you saw what I see, you would yell, too,” Bam said.
“Sorry, dear” Ville said suddenly, turning his face to Bam and kissing him over his shoulder.
That’s some fucking brotherhood right there. But in this case the fact that Ville was so understanding about what Bam wanted from him was probably making the situation only worse. All of a sudden, Bam realized how it could be, what and how they could be doing right now, so he tried his best to keep his head. He understood that in this situation it was better for them to get off in the shortest time they could manage, making use of as little space and furniture around them as possible.
Besides, he wanted to feel Ville’s body under him so bad. Incredibly grateful, he snapped his hips roughly against Ville for about fifty times, feeling him sliding down.
Just what he was waiting for. He threw him back on the couch, spreading his legs and thrusting his hips into him as he wanted to, because nothing was restraining him anymore from giving HIM pleasure. One, two, three, faster, faster and faster. Bam knew that in this position Ville’s cock was getting just the right stimulation for them to come at the same time, even though he was already close to the climax. Maybe.
“Yeah, oh yeah… God damn……… I want you so bad, yeah….” He added some more expletive words while he was coming, but he pushed his hand forward to grab Ville’s weener, because he had to make sure, and it has taken him aback a little…
An interesting thing happened at the moment when Bam, who was turned on to the limit forgot about himself and was fucking the body under him, caressing it with his hand at the same time, to make sure it came before him. It seemed like even the body under him didn’t want it as much as he did. Anyway, a couple of minutes after he has pushed Ville face forward on the couch, he gladly felt the sperm of his dear rascal moisture his fist, while his own cock shot inside the rubber bag. By the way, it was a pretty good idea, Bam realized it after he’d come. The only thing he had to do now was to pull off the condom, clean himself up with a wet tissue and that’s it, he’d be fresh and clean like a newborn. But the treacherous thoughts about what he could do with it started bothering him too much all of a sudden.
Sure enough, those thoughts let him go once he and Ville started cleaning up the couch of Ville’s cum with tissues… Well, Bam did try to lick it up at first, but Ville threw his legs apart and said that this view turns him on too much. Acknowledging his mistake, Bam pulled Ville down on the floor, while he was cleaning up the couch. Fucking hell, he felt Ville clinging to his leg and was praying – dear God, let us just reach the motherfucking Drezden and then…
We’ll reach Dresden and then… Yeah, ha-ha, hilarious.
Clearly, Bam has overestimated the situation. Well, to hell with that. They entered Mige’s room, in fact, it was the room, which Ville and Mige were supposed to share, and Bam was going to get himself a separate one, but it has emerged that the hotel was fully packed and there weren’t any rooms available. He thought about trying another hotel, but his dear friend immediately passed out on Mige’s big double bed. In the end, it was his bed as well. Meditatively, Bam took a seat on the bed at Ville’s feet, thinking about what he should do now.
‘Hey,’ He touched Ville by his leg.
‘Let him sleep,’ Mige said strictly. ‘He’s tired. He’s got to work tonight. We all got to. But if you don’t let him get his sleep now - in the evening those of us who remain alive will envy the dead.’
‘And what about me?’ Bam asked him astonished. ‘What am I supposed to do now?’
Clearly, Seppo won’t allow him to play the same trick with staying in another hotel. He has told Bam that he had already had enough nervous breakdowns on this tour and he doesn’t have any strengths or money left to gather them all up from hell knows where. But Bam had to admit that the whole idea of spending the night in Dresden away from Ville didn’t excite him at all. Even if the full-on sex wouldn’t happen, he definitely didn’t want to miss on the moment of intimacy. The opportunity to have a little chat, or maybe just enjoy the silence while lying together in bed and holding each other. In the end, this, too, is hell of a sex. Even the fact of them being close to each other was a rush to him. No, there was no way on earth he would going to spend the night away from Ville. He was about to break it all to Mige, but Mige offered him first:
‘Right-fucking-here,’ Mige offered hospitably.
‘Mmmm… Thank you, man… Damn, you’re the man, man…’ Bam said feeling a lot more enthusiastic. Well, at least Don Miguel wasn’t kicking him out and that was a good start. ‘But I don’t want to sleep.’
‘Will you shut up… you talking dickheads,’ Ville growled at them impolitely in a colorful and threatening deepness of his natural baritone. However, the meaning of his words didn’t have a slightest effect on Bam, possibly, he didn’t notice it at all fooled by the velvety intonation of the voice. Apparently, to Bam’s ears the phrase “Shut up, you talking dickheads” sounded like a languid call of love.
‘Pu-u-u-u-u-u-us,’ Bam exclaimed affectedly, launching himself at Ville.
Mige has barely managed to stop him, by throwing his arm around Bam’s throat.
‘Easy, boy,’ Mige said. ‘You don’t want to do that.’
‘WHYISTHAT?!?!’ Bam exclaimed indignantly.
‘Boy, you have to trust me on this,’ Mige said.
‘Fucking annihilate, will you,’ Ville said.
‘Anni-what?’ Bam asked him, unsure of what exactly he was expected to do.
‘I’ve been studying the habits and routines of this specimen for many years in a row,’ Mige explained. ‘And according to my vast observations - the object shows this type of behavior when it poises you a treat and possibly even wants to kill you. There’s nothing you can do about it. Let’s go have some beer.’
‘Hey Pu-u-us, do you mind if we go out for a drink without you?’
‘If you die there, I won’t even shed a tear,’ Ville said tenderly.
‘When we are dead - remember Rra-ko-ha-mmas, we loved you,’ Mige said. ‘Even though you didn’t deserve it…’
Ville probably decided it was below his dignity to answer Mige.
‘Let’s go pick up Linde,’ Mige said when he and Bam left the room. ‘I guess he wouldn’t mind to chill a while.’
‘Alright,’ Bam agreed. ‘Rokah-what?’
‘Rokah-who?’ Mige asked him in his turn.
‘What was that word you called him?’
‘That’s a Finnish-one,’ Mige explained. ‘Rra-ko-hammas.’
‘Rrrrr…’ Bam said as they entered the elevator. The room witch Linde and Zoltan shared was on a different floor.
‘Ra-ko-ha-mmas. What a beautiful language. It sounds so poetic… Ra-ko-ha-mmas, that’s so romantic.’
‘Oh yeah,’ Mige agreed.
‘So does it mean that he won’t even try to rip my head off, if I call him that?’ Bam asked Mige, beaming at him with his radiant blue eyes.
‘A-HA-HA-HA-HA-HA,’ Mige bent in half with laughter. ‘Boy, you’re beginning to talk like a man.’
‘It’s like I got this feeling in my bones, looking at your composed, enlightened face Miguel. I don’t know you that well yet, but I’ve figured something about you and Ville…’
‘Oh yeah,’ Mige wasted no time on objections. ‘Basically, we’ve been living a happy married life for almost eleven years now, and we’re about to have a second child. I’m not sure this one’s mine though. A little bird told me it could be Linde’s fault this time. I have only few recollections of the early days of our marriage. Of the first five years of it, to be exact. Mostly we would spend all day looking at the Vantaanjoki River and smoking weed. In Ville’s opinion those activities had a bad influence on our brains, but I hold a contrary opposite point of view. In fact, Ville and I, we didn’t really talk for the first five years, we’ve been trying to train our supernatural intellectual powers to the point where we would no longer need to use the means of articulate speech to communicate, and switch to telepathy instead.’
‘Wow,’ Bam said with respect.
‘In fact, the first time we had a real conversation was when I came back from the national service,’ Mige continued. ‘Ville came to me, gave me a CD with the songs he and Linde recorded together. Like Wicked Game with misheard lyrics and all that, you know…’
‘…and then he kinda said that if I like it, then we would be having…’
‘Oh Dear God, a baby, is it?’
‘Well, yes, as in – a band.’
‘And what happened next?’ Bam asked him, excited by the story.
‘I liked it,’ Mige said. ‘And then for a couple of month we couldn’t agree on the band’s name. We’ve been fighting about it all the time while we weren’t rehearsing. And then I’ve had enough of it and wrote on my cabinet “His Infernal Majesty”, and said “That’s it, I don’t have the money to buy another one, so this will be our name.” And they agreed.’
‘Oh God, how romantic, can you leave an autograph on my ass, Midge?’ Bam gushed all over Mige, imitating a teenage fangirl.
‘Heavy duties of the star,’ Mige sighed. ‘I can sign your dick as well… I could even think of some lovely one-liner… If you really want me to…’
‘Nah,’ Bam said after a moment of thinking. ‘That would be too much. What if you write there some fucking “Wazzup, Ville!”?’
Mige walked out of the elevator without saying a word.
‘Fuck, I just gave myself away, didn’t I?’
‘Oh yes, you did,’ Mige said. ‘You see, we all thought that you two have been inflating balloons out of condoms last night in the bus.’
‘Tee-hee-hee,’ Bam blushed and giggled silly. ‘Did you need a condom?’ Well, and what else could he ask?
‘No, it just happened that this morning Zoltan placed his tender bottom on the seat and felt something sting his gentle ass-chicks, and that something turned out to be an open condom wrapper. And he was so bitchy about it the whole morning, while you we’ve been having your baby sleep in Ville’s container, and he was so keen to point it out to Ville, who was in a bad mood because he hates night transfers and because he wanted to take a shower and get some sleep, that Ville lost his temper like a complete jerk and might have adjusted Zoltan’s clock a little bit. And then we had to screw with Zoltan.’
‘What, all of you?’ Bam asked him drearily as they walked along the corridor to invite Linde for a gentlemanly promenade.
‘Well, in esoteric sense of it, yes’ Mige explained.
‘I didn’t understand shit,’ Bam admitted.
‘I mean he was all bitter and twisted and we were fucking sick of it,’ Mige said. ‘All of us. We had to calm him down and all. And then, you know, one doesn’t fucking mess with Rakohammas, if he’s not ready to get poured with shit head-to-toe. It’s the unspoken rule we have: if you, unfortunate wretch, have made a poor decision to mess with Rakohammas - resign yourself to the fact that you’re going to be wrecked, and take it as a man.’
‘So what does this Rakohammas mean?’ Bam asked him again.
‘The exact translation would be “a gap-tooth”,’ Mige explained.
‘And what’s a gap-tooth?’ asked Bam.
‘It’s a wicked poisonous rat with long feet,’ Mige gave him a short definition. ‘And it’s called a gap-tooth because there’s… a gap… between its front teeth.’
‘Oh, a gap,’ Bam said.
They knocked on the door of Linde’s and Zoltan’s room.
‘I know what a gap is,’ continued Bam just as serious.
Mige gave him a pat on the head without saying a word.
‘We have a similar thing…’ Bam said. ‘Like, you know, if a girl has a gap between her front teeth it means that she’s a slut and likes anal sex.’
‘I have always admired the Great American Nation. As a kid, I had my heart on the side of the Native Indians, but now I have a better understanding of the reasons of your victory over them,’ Mige said.
‘Man, you’re making fun of me, and I can’t even pinpoint where exactly,’ Bam admitted honestly.
‘If you spit a word – I’m dead,’ Mige warned him.
‘Whoa!’ Linde said as he opened the door. ‘Look who’s here! You guys are right on time.’
‘Let’s go to the bar,’ Mige said. ‘What happened? Did you girls have a fight over an eyeliner again?’
Linde closed the door behind him and walked in the direction of the elevator hall:
‘He didn’t learn the lesson about what it means to be in a band we gave him the other time,’ Mige said. ‘When we tried to stick a fire extinguisher up his ass.’
‘You guys are hard-core,’ Bam said approvingly, while they were taking a familiar path along the corridor back to the elevator to go to the lobby.
‘That’s Linde for you,’ Mige explained. ‘He reckoned it would be a good idea. Have you ever imagined what happens if you put an extinguisher up someone’s ass and then set it off?’
‘The shit would fly I guess,’ Bam frowned.
‘And hit the fan,’ Mige helped him.
‘I was talking about the extinguisher.’
‘Oh, you are a smart one,’ Linde said.
‘You cunts were trying to pull my leg again, weren’t you?’
‘Nah, well, not really,’ Linde admitted. ‘Scoff at you a little bit maybe, in a friendly way. Well, yeah, we were.’
‘Hahaha,’ Bam said.
‘Hahaha,’ said Mige.
‘Well, as entertaining as it might be to you,’ Linde scratched his head between the dreadlocks. ‘Where am I supposed to go tonight?’
‘You could hang at our room,’ Mige offered him.
‘I’m getting in your way, right?’ Bam whispered sadly.
‘Why is that? ’ Linde wondered.
‘Let’s put it this way,’ Mige said philosophically as they entered the elevator for the second time. ‘You see, Linde, long story short – Ville, Bam and I, are having a twisted threesome tonight in our room,’ Mige explained. ‘Gap-tooth is going to sleep with Bam and I will be sleeping by myself, as I didn’t find me a girlfriend. Therefore, you, Linde, are more than welcome to come. As you can see, you couldn’t cause us any bother even if you wanted to.’
‘I got you,’ Linde giggled. ‘I’ll come. Now I don’t want to be mean, but I’m fed up with Zoltan.’
‘Oh yeah? What is it this time? ’ Mige asked him.
All the time while they were walking down the corridor and later in the elevator Mige kept holding his arm casually around Bam’s shoulders. Bam took it as the greatest honor and in his turn was happily clinging to Mige’s arm with his both hands. He was beaming. They accepted him. At the moment, even the embarrassment for his reckless outbreak in the bus wasn’t burning him too much. Of course, he did understand that these fellows would jeer at him for that until the end of his days, but the fact that Mige was embracing him right now…
‘Oh I can’t be on the road for so long, oh, I need some personal life,’ Linde whined in a faggoty voice imitating Zoltan. The elevator doors opened once again.
‘Are you gonna sell the faggot to the Gap-tooth?’ Bam asked quickly.
Linde and Mige shot a look at him.
‘Huh, you are quick to learn the terminology, aren’t you?’ Linde said and headed for the bar.
‘A timely question actually,’ Mige agreed.
‘He has a nice beardo,’ Bam said.
‘Who?’ Mige asked, as they left the elevator without breaking their embrace.
‘Zoltan,’ said Bam.
‘Hey, Lily, let’s take the table by the window,’ Bam felt extremely thankful to them for sticking to English while around him. To be honest, he was ready to burst into tears right there, because unlike them, he knew his true intentions behind staying here with them. He even felt a little ashamed, because it was him thinking with his lower head that left all of them in a pretty damn uncomfortable situation. Blushing, he attempted to stutter some apologies and explanations, trying to compose his words in such a way that neither he, nor Ville would end up looking like faggots. He told them that he was sorry and that he didn’t mean to cause them any trouble, hoping they would distinguish him from Zoltan in their heads, but Mige and Lily just waved at him and ordered some beer. They had a far more interesting topic on their hands.
‘Ville has mentioned on more than one occasion that he’s not happy with Zoltan,’ Linde explained. Instantly, Bam felt as if someone removed a mountain from his chest. They were discussing something completely different from what he originally thought. ‘That’s a long story.’
‘I see,’ Bam nodded shortly.
He didn’t like Zoltan from the very first time he saw him. For some reason he was glad to witness this conversation. And it wasn’t that Zoltan did something wrong, it was more of a feeling, some kind of vibe in the air that made Bam dislike him. Zoltan demanded too much attention from Ville. Furthermore, Bam was taking fucking rejoice in the fact that there wasn’t even a hint of uneasiness between him and Ville’s mates. They didn’t hesitate to discuss their inner band issues in front of him and they didn’t even bother choosing the words. He nearly got hard at the thought that despite his eccentric way of joining their company he happened to become one of them and was someone they trusted with their problems.
In all honesty, Bam was ready to smooch both of them out of the best feelings. He was so overwhelmed that he even gave a little sob, fighting back the tears caused by a sudden torrent of emotions.
‘What’s up with the moisture, Wham-Bam?’ Mige asked him tenderly.
‘You guys are so cool,’ Bam said.
‘Bam, we have only had one beer, don’t you think it too early for that?’ Mige asked him in a father like manner.
‘To be honest with you, I feel like I’m still drunk from my last visit here. I could treat you with some whiskey though. Do you guys want a drink?’
‘No,’ Mige and Linde said sadly.
There was a moment of wistful silence at the table.
‘In fact, we do,’ Linde said.
‘But Seppo says that only the half-naked douche of a singer can be drunk on stage, because a) He can hold onto the mic stand and b) For some inexplicable reason God has given him the voice,’ Mige added.
‘The voice, mmm…’ Bam repeated happily. ‘The voice…’
‘All the other retards playing funny instruments have to be sober.’
‘That’s like some army shit you have here,’ Bam drained his cup of espresso in one gulp.
‘Yes,’ Linde nodded sadly, casting a forlorn look at the rows of bottles at the bar. ‘I would sell my soul for some Jack Daniel’s right now…’
‘But you will start crashing guitars and amps, and throwing beer glasses at the guitar technician,’ Mige told him. ‘And then you’ll forget your name again.’
‘Yes,’ Lind said even sadder. ‘But you can always call me Daniel… I’ve always felt that we have some kind of a spiritual connection, I don’t know… It seems to me that maybe in my previous life…’
‘But his name is Jack,’ Mige reminded him.
‘And mine is Daniel,’ said Linde.
‘C’mon, just one shot,’ Bam whispered seductively in a voice of the serpent hiding among the branches of the tree of knowledge in Eden.
‘How can I possibly say “no” to such a smooth-talker?’ Linde said.
A waiter in a long black apron affectedly placed in front of them a glass filled with ice and three heavy glasses with a carefully measured level whiskey. Bam took a cube of ice and thoughtfully run it across his forehead, after that he put it in his mouth without changing his expression. Meanwhile, at the other end of the table, Linde was inhaling the glorious scent and after a short moment of thinking, he took Mige’s glass and poured its contents into his own.
‘You won't drink it anyway,’ he said.
‘What is it, Vanessa?’
‘Midge, did he mention me at all?’ Bam decided to use the moment while Daniel Lily Linde was enjoying an autoerotic experience with his favorite drink.
‘No,’ Mige said in a startled manner.
‘No,’ all of a sudden, Bam turned so utterly miserable, that it seemed as if someone switched off the light somewhere deep inside of him.
‘What do you mean?’ Carefully asked him Mige leaning closer to him on the brown leather seat in the lobby-bar.
‘I don’t know,’ Bam emptied his glass of whisky in one gulp. He wrinkled his nose, covered his mouth with his palm and groaned. ‘My mum asked me where I was going, and I told her I was going to visit a friend, and she was like “Will you be back for dinner?” and I said “Mom, I don’t think so…”’
‘I’m hungry by the way,’ Linde said. ‘Let’s go to your mom for dinner.’
‘Let’s go,’ Bam agreed sadly.
‘Order yourself something, we still have about two hours to spend anyway,’ Mige suggested Linde, passing him the menu.
‘Huh… You know man, Ville and I, we screwed that night in London,’ Linde honestly choked on his whiskey, although he tactfully said that whiskey here probably wasn’t diluted. He put an ice cube into his glass.
‘One will do,’ he explained. ‘It’ll soften the taste.’
Bam and Mige were staring at his manipulations in a pensive silence. Mige was thinking about what to say, Bam was thinking about what to keep to himself.
‘But it doesn’t…’
‘Oh, can I have a veggie-burger?’ Linde asked the waiter, who appeared by their table.
‘And repeat the beer and espresso,’ Mige ordered for Bam and himself. ‘Well, it was pretty obvious,’ he added turning to Bam. ‘You would’ve lost my respect, if you haven’t done that.’
‘Faggots,’ said Linde sipping on Jack Daniel’s and looking wistfully into the distance. ‘I always wanted to find myself a heterosexual rock-band…’
‘A heterosexual rock-band?’ Mige sniggered. ‘I think you’ve knocked on the wrong door, buddy…’
‘You’re very good people,’ said Bam sniveling once again. ‘I couldn’t lie to you. If I did, later on you would think what a fucking viper you’ve nurtured in your bosom… I… I can’t… I can’t lie to you, and I’m even ready to accept the fact that you’ll despise me for that, but I would rather be an honest sinner than a lying hypocrite… I…’ All of a sudden, Bam could hold his sobs anymore. ‘It seems like I really fucking fell for him…’
‘Youngster, you’re fucking drunk I dare say,’ Mige said in a deep voice.
‘Yes I am,’ said the youngster. ‘I was on a plane here and I saw this stupid magazine cover with a rabbit. With a fucking rabbit, you see?’
‘You’re a very sensitive guy,’ Linde said. ‘Magazine cover with a rabbit.’
‘Bam, are you sure you are not retarded?’ Mige asked him carefully.
‘Go fuck yourself,’ Bam replied.
‘Nah, reactions seem normal,’ Linde agreed.
‘I mean your Gap-tooth… our Gap-tooth… Was holding a rabbit in his hands,’ Bam said.
‘Aw,’ Mige nodded.
‘Aw,’ nodded Linde.
‘There were articles about you in every magazine, and they kept showing this music video from the “Thirteenth Floor”, it hooked me up big time… And then there was this article about you. An interesting one.’
‘Oh really,’ Linde and Mige said in unison.
‘Ville was talking there about your album “Razorblade Romance”, and it was so good, I couldn’t stop reading it…’
‘Oh yeah, he’s good at making those magnificently peculiar statements,’ Mige agreed.
‘I was so overwhelmed by reading and seeing all this stuff that I bought all of your albums. Right on the next day.’
‘The power of love, a force from above,’ Linde agreed.
‘And then I was listening to it nonstop, we went to participate in some competitions and I won a couple of them by the way,’ Bam said proudly, both of the Finnish guys tactfully looked away so he wouldn’t feel like an idiot. ‘Damn, I realized I liked every single thing! Everything!’
‘Good for you,’ Linde said.
‘It just doesn’t happen this way… All of the other albums are shit… And here… I listen to every song, and damn!’
‘Holy guacamole,’ Mige marveled.
‘And you know, I’m not ashamed…’ The waiter was pretty quick to bring a sliced avocado with soya on a grey bread with seeds. ‘I’ll be honest with you, when I saw your video… I even jerked to it a little,’ Bam confessed.
‘An expert in fine art,’ Mige said.
‘Macho,’ said Linde and buried his teeth in his sandwich.
‘I also almost became a vegetarian,’ Bam said.
‘How come?’ Linde asked him.
‘I used to have boobs,’ Bam replied.
‘Bam, there's just one last intimate detail about you left and I’ll begin courting you,’ said Linde crushing his food intently with his jaws. ‘Just one detail. The most crucial one…’
‘Nah, I had them because I used to be a fat-ass.’
‘Oh,’ Linde nodded and took another bite from his sandwich.
‘Fuck, it was like… I don’t know how to explain, it was like I’ve known him for all my life…’
‘Wait, are you going to tell us about you guys fucking?’ Linde asked him carefully.
‘No,’ Bam said. ‘I just showed him a little of what I can do…’
‘You said it won’t be about fucking,’ Linde said.
‘You shouldn’t have bought him that whiskey,’ Mige said.
‘Oh come on, just a little more,’ Linde huffed at him. ‘I’m so fine I’m wine!’
‘Ville’s gonna eat my brains out.’
‘Go, I’ll take care of him,’ Bam said seriously, imitating a scene from a thriller.
‘Oh, that actually sounds like a plan,’ Mige nodded approvingly.
‘ELVIS HAS LEFT THE BUILDING!’ Rich baritone coming all the fucking way from the elevator broke their eardrums. There was no need for them to turn around to know how long they have been there and what has descended upon them.
Bam thought he would never feel this way again. According to psychologists, the first impression is something you can experience with a person only once and never again.
But fucking hell, it happened again, and this time it got him even harder than the time before. It was as if this creature recharged itself with some kind of dark energy during those few hours of sleep.
He saw Ville standing in front of him, a tall lean goddess, or a fucking god in a black top and leather pants, which he wore without any underwear. Oh, Bam could swear he saw all the right curves in all the right places. It seemed as if Ville’s skin was shining from inside and the dark eyeliner looked killer on him.
He had been making out with this drunk and sleepy dude in a toilet at the railway station, he should’ve been used to him by now, but instead of that it hit him even harder and even more sensitively on all the same places. He’s already been with him. He knew the scent of his skin, he knew the way he was in bed, and he knew what he’s capable of. Bam knew that if Mige and Linde weren’t around, he would’ve simply collapsed to the feet of this creature, not giving a fuck about the hotel staff… And… It wasn’t about self-deprecation, haha. It simply occurred to him that even that would cause in him erotic sensations of unbelievable power.
‘Willa-a-a-ah,’ he exhaled while Linde was chewing on a salad, intently trying to look sober.
Bam was mature enough to know there’s life after the first time. However, Bam by far wasn’t as mature of a man yet to know that there’s something much worse that can happen after the first time. He was in love with Ville. He was in love with him as he could be with a woman, in love with him as with his very best male friend, and he couldn’t sort out which one of these feelings is more important to him.
Bam sat there feeling deepest admiration towards these friends, who accepted him into their hierarchy, which, apparently, had HIM as the head of it. But even so he was just sitting there ready to jizz his pants seeing Ville’s nipples sticking up under his top, his naked skin, his lips, his hands and… And the fact that Ville didn’t have anything under his pants, he was just… Bam just could see it all now…
‘What’s up?’ Asked the Sex-God… At least that’s what Bam saw. Everyone else’s reaction was significantly more normal. For example, Linde was sucking on a piece of sugar from a sugar-bowl…
‘Bring me wine,’ the deity said.
Without a word, Mige affectionately made Ville sit on his lap. Bam nearly died right there at that very moment. Out of jealousy, hatred and envy. Although, of course, he did understand that out of everyone - Mige was the best guy he could possibly find to be jealous. But it did hurt anyway, because there was a longing inside of him. A longing, which wouldn’t be satisfied with a quickie, he wanted it to be proper, and long, and with elements of you know what, love through denial of love, getting a kick out of it being a little too much. He nearly died, but Ville very defiantly and insolently blew him a kiss sitting with his bare (well, almost, at least to Bam) ass on Mige’s lap, but hot damn, this turned him on so much that any traces of common sense left his brain flew out of the window.
Holy crap, and the night was still young. Bam couldn’t see the edge of Ville’s underwear in these pants, he could only see his muscles, the ones he was not supposed to see, in his head he was already imagining a lot of the stuff, which would surely rather make Ville blush, and all of a sudden it became his main goal. Good god, at this point he was ready to do literally anything, and he was getting a hell of a kick out of the fact that they weren’t even in bed yet, but he was already experiencing the whole lot of the most fascinating sensations while still being here.
Bam had many friends telling him “Just try to get to behind the scenes of the show business and you’ll understand it’s all not what it seems…” By the way, he’s gotten there, and he's understood, but the personal show of Ville, who was pouting his lips at him from Mige’s lap… To his boner it was far worse than the show of a cheap stripper giving her all on the stage… He was losing the sense of reality. He did understand that in fact Ville was teasing him, wholeheartedly, yet so subtly that it was impossible to get back at him. Right now, he was telling him and Linde that Mige is his darling girlfriend…
At the moment, Bam’s mind was so flooded with pictures of what he could, but wouldn't dare do to Ville, at least not right now, that his breathing seized.
A good thing Seppo and Silke, the blond, their tour-manager, entered the lobby. Ville managed to behave a little bit more appropriate and Bam was still hoping that the things he would witness would overcompensate all of his fantasies. Nevertheless, he bit Ville in the ass through his pants when they were getting into the mini-van, enjoying the fact that now nothing was interrupting their union. Long story short, in the end he placed himself on Ville’s lap and almost calmed down.
The key word being “almost”.
Bam was having the time of his life.
It felt as if Christmas, Birthday, Hanukah and Halloween with three bags of candies, seized from the neighbours by treating to blackmail them, came all in one day. He realized it would be that way when they reached the venue, because as it turned out on the spot, the Lord of his trembling heart - the Idol and the Gap-tooth - was a real professional and in no way was going to let anyone doubt that.
He stormed up the stage like a hurricane at 6 pm sharp, right on schedule, after the technicians had finished the sound check. Don Miguel and Lily were on point; Gas and even Zoltan were on point too. The latter somehow looked sad and blue, despite the apparent promising vistas for the next 24 hours. Ville even kissed him on the cheek in a rush of feelings. Zoltan’s face lit up for a second, but then he grew sad again.
Bam took a seat right on the floor of the club, crossing his legs. He watched and listened as Ville, who was standing at the height of the stage in front of him, began to sing, and then started scolding the sound engineer and promoter’s manager, who was standing next to frowning Seppo. He was claiming vigorously that one could get a better sound out of a loo. Probably, the sound was shitty indeed, but to Bam everything was great anyway. More than anything, he liked Ville in his Rock Star character.
Especially from a side.
From a safe distance.
Apparently, Mige was enjoying the play as well, because he was standing with his back turned to the scene, laughing quietly. However, his shaking shoulders were giving him up. Bam noticed that Ville set his glare at Mige’s back, so he started waving his hands and shaking his head, pointing with his eyes at the upcoming danger, hoping that only one member of the band would see him. Mige took his hint at once; he turned around sharply, scratched his chin and composed a worried face, which was supposed to show everyone his deepest concern about the situation, leaving Ville empty-handed.
Linde smirked and nodded at Bam, giving him a thumb-up. Bam burst out laughing.
Damn, the adrenaline was boiling in his blood.
Everything was going great…
For a couple of minutes, the venue fell into silence. Mige used the quiet moment to drink some water, while the technicians were anxiously hustling around Linde and Zoltan, connecting them and adjusting the settings. Mige wandered off to the far end of the stage, avoiding Ville, who was walking up and down the stage, anxiously kicking the wires that were impudent enough to get in his way. He resembled a hungry wolf stalking the woods for prey. However, no prey was coming his way, everyone was busy, and Mige, who was ably faking an artistic out-of-body experience, was avoiding looking him in the eyes. Soon enough, Ville began to feel bored.
He grabbed the mic stand with his hand, pushing it aside, and looked down at the auditorium. Bam was beaming at him happily like a rabid cat. And so what, he was happy indeed. Ville couldn’t resist, Bam’s beaming instantly thawed his harshness. Ville winked at him, grinning broadly in response. It was a little chilly in the club, as the air-conditioning was working for the full venue and the stage lights were still off, so Ville had put on a sweater before going on stage.
Perhaps, a normal human being would’ve chosen a different behavioural pattern. But Bam Margera wouldn’t have been Bam Margera, if he hadn’t done what he did. He put his hands to his mouth and cried loudly and distinctly:
Mige, who was quenching his thirst behind Ville’s back, blew out a fountain of water. Seppo squinted thoughtfully at Ville and Bam, and pensively adjusted his glasses. Ville burst out laughing like a retarded hyena and showed Bam his middle finger. Bam laughed so hard in response that he even managed to fall sideways on the floor from his sitting position.
Seppo and the group of technicians moved over to Mige.
At that very moment, the speakers went live. Their sound engineer had finally got Linde’s amp working, and they heard Linde fingering a major chord. The chord must have reminded Ville of something, because he put the microphone to his mouth and sang, looking intently at laughing Bam:
‘Love me tender…’ he sang, slowly and lazily, imitating the famous Elvis style. Then, he made a pause, waiting for Linde to grasp the idea and play the next chord. Without even looking at him. Apparently, the mind reading was a common technique among the members of this particular band, as Linde was quick to catch on and play the second chord of the song.
‘Love me sweet…’
Bam couldn’t help but whine in an ultrasound. Ville sang it very indecently...
‘Never… Let me… Go…,’ it sounded even worse than “Happy Birthday, Mister President” sung by Marilyn Monroe to Kennedy. ‘You have made my… Life… Complete,’ Ville gave a whole new meaning to the phrase, as he pretentiously grabbed his butt with his hand and closed his eyes dreamily. Without a doubt, somewhere in the next world, Elvis Presley was burning with shame for his song. The feeling of embarrassment mixed with admiration was tearing Bam apart; it was scorching him from the inside, so he howled once again.
‘And I love you so… Love me… Tender… Love me… True… All my dreams fulfilled… For my darling, I love you, and I always will…’
They stopped for a second when Bam gave a loud cheering whistle.
‘Love me tender…,’ Ville made an unexpected pause once again, and then, in the same voluptuous Elvis manner, he sang, articulating every letter:
‘Fuck me… Long… Take me…………. To your heart…’
He had to finish the last phrase after a pause in a speaking voice, because Linde had bent in half with laughter somewhere between “Fuck me” and “Take me”, and was unable to play anymore.
‘Turns out, I had no idea what Elvis was singing about, until now,’ Mige boomed seriously into his mic, as it started working. ‘Man-oh-man… He was the last one I would’ve suspected…’
‘Hee-hee-hee-hee,’ Ville said. He walked away from the mic, pulled off the sweater and threw it on the floor. Of course, seeing that, Bam simply had no other choice but to climb on the stage, jumping over the lighting machines, pull out some money from his pocket and thrust it under the waist of Ville’s pants. Despite laughing boisterously and fighting him back, Ville did take the money. He looked approvingly at the twenty-dollar note and said gleefully into the mic:
‘Alright, boys, we can call it a day, I’ve earned us some beer money… Come on, Bam, get off me… Oh, please, move a little… I’m walking here…’
‘What about here?’
‘That’s Mige’s place…’
‘Gas will kick your head off…’
‘That’s alright with me…’ Bam lay on the stage, right next to the bass drum, trying not to disturb anyone.
‘Let’s start from the top,’ Ville said in a surprisingly serious and focused voice. The guys shook up, Gas gave a countdown one-two-three-four…
“Oh yeah, what a bright idea to lay down next to the drum-kit,” Bam thought, but it wasn’t like him to wave the white flag. Anyway, what else could happen to him in his current state? In all honesty, it was some kind of an unreachable mega-orgasm bound by adrenaline, music, this voice, and this… ah… it didn’t matter… Bam lay there, glancing at the empty venue through the gap between Ville’s spread legs. And it was the best view he’d ever seen. He even thought that sooner or later, he would ask them to make him a member of the band. He wouldn’t even ask them to pay him money, no. He would simply lie there, with his head under the bass drum, not hearing a damn thing, because Gas was kicking it with all his might. He would lie there, sipping on beer, listening to HIM and looking at Ville’s ass. Perhaps, his parents would be really disappointed in him, if they found out that this was his ultimate career goal.
He knew that they were playing this gig for him personally. He was turned-on like an Easter rabbit, but the whole situation seemed so emotionally important to him, that he didn’t even want to jerk-off. It was a gig for him, and him alone. And it was the best HIM gig, for sure. And it was the most obscene cover of Elvis Presley’s hit-song “Fuck me long” that he’d ever heard. Every song was just for him, he knew it. It was more than a gig. It was like… It was like being a part of a black magic rite, and not being a sacrificial goat, for a change. Or being the sacrificial goat, but still unaware that you are one. In fact, when it comes to black magic rituals, it’s genuinely hard to find the truth about which role you are really playing.
‘Hey, Bammie, won’t you get bored?’ Ville said, taking a towel to wipe his face and giving Bam a light affectionate kick. ‘The show won’t be as exciting for you to watch, if you see everything now.’
‘Oh yeah, you wish,’ said Bam, grabbing Ville by the shoe with his hand.
‘Hey, don’t even try to do that,’ Ville said threateningly, suspecting that the guy was planning some cunning move.
‘I will never get bored,’ said Bam. ‘Will you sing for me later, for an extra charge?’
‘Go fuck yourself,’ blushed flattered Ville, ripping his shoe out of Bam’s grip.
‘I could, if that’s what you want me to do,’ Bam said.
‘That’s not what I meant,’ he liked how quickly Ville turned serious and corrected himself at his threat.
‘That’s not what I meant, too,’ Bam licked his lips, in some miraculous way managing to look Ville in the eyes smugly and affectionately at the same time.
‘Let’s go, we’ll rest for a couple of hours, and I guess there should be some food as well,’ Ville said in a business-like manner, this time deliberately dodging Bam’s gaze.
Just then, Bam realized that he hadn’t had a single proper meal in a rush of all the transfers, long conversations and other stuff, so he was the first one to run into the dressing room. His Idol, however, didn’t join them at the table, telling them that he wasn’t hungry and, besides, was afraid to go on stage. Therefore, he sat in an armchair in the corner of the room and took a snack consisting of a bottle of red wine and half a pack of cigarettes. Bam was about to say something, but the Apostles, also known as Ville’s bandmates, just waved at him and said that it was Ville’s regular routine.
Then again, later on, Ville managed to surprise him even more.
He really was at his best that night.
May be it was partly because of the audience, which was, by some happy coincidence, exceptionally good that night. The guys had told him before the gig, that in fact, they loved performing in Germany, because they felt appreciated here. The receiving side wasn’t trying to feed them some bird food and the audience’s reaction was always warm. It was true; it felt as if the venue was about to combust because of the incredible energy that was flying in the air. No wonder that Bam combusted in earnest.
Sure as shit, this time he had the best seat in the VIP loge, but even there he managed to jump around, yell, wave his hands and bang his head. Because the emotions that were boiling inside of him just had to find the way out. For the first time in his life, he was watching the show not only as an outsider, but as an insider as well. Just as at every previous HIM’s gig that Bam had visited, he couldn’t take his eyes off Ville, but this time it seemed as if he was feeling everything that was going on in the venue with Ville’s skin. Moreover, a fair share of wonderful real erotic moments, which he and Ville had experienced together, was intensifying the sensation even more. Ville’s half-naked body, which was shining with sweat under the hot stage lights, looked completely different to Bam, now that he knew how it tastes, feels and smells.
At some point, Bam even forgot to jump and bang his head, staring at the half-naked God on the stage, who had put his hands behind his head and closed his eyes. And then, Bam saw something that he was never supposed to see. He saw how Ville touched the mic with his open lips, and then, growing bolder, took the whole head into his mouth. Bam didn’t know how to call that part of the mic, but on the body part, which resonated at Ville’s gesture, that area was called “a head”. Then, as if scared of his own audacity, Ville feverishly grabbed the shaft with his hand. At least to Bam it felt as if Ville was doing that to him. Oh God, oh, God… Oh dear God… Another second, Ville took the mic out of his mouth, keeping it open for a moment and licking his lips, but at the very same second, just when Bam was going to catch his breath, Ville looked him straight in the eyes and blew him a kiss.
‘OH YOU FUCKING FUCK!!!’ Bam shrieked like a fan-girl and hid his face in his hands. Ville smirked and walked to the other end of the stage. Damn, he was deliberately playing with him! The sounds of Ville’s voice were making Bam lose his mind, he wanted that voice to belong to him and him alone, he wanted those sounds to be caused by him and his actions exclusively. Having that in mind, he figured it would be unfair and immoral of him to deprive other people of this fine art. Therefore, he pensively put his hand into the pocket of his pants, adjusting the pressure of the material around the certain area where his pants became too tight.
After a few other erotic moves like that, Bam felt that he was almost ready to forgive that Ungodly Creature even for the things it was doing right in front of him to its dear friend Mige, as if it was trying to spitefully set Bam off. At first, Bam wanted to kill Ville for moaning and glancing at Mige while singing the most indecent lines in the lyrics. He was making them indecent on purpose, changing the poetic expressions with more realistic ones. Just the same way as he had been doing earlier on, while singing the Elvis’ song to Bam. Damn, Bam even felt a little offended, he wanted to be the only one to get that kind of attention from Ville.
After that, Bam wanted to kill Ville for taking Mige’s bass and riding astride his shoulders. That part of the show, in fact, used to be one of Bam’s favorites. Ville straddling his Faithful Stallion. Fucking hell, he used to consider that the funniest stunt Ville had ever pulled on stage! However, from that night on, Bam got disenchanted with it forever, because for some inexplicable reason, the idea of some man having his head between Ville’s legs stopped appealing to Bam at all.
For instance, his reasoning partly relied on the fact that he knew that his dear darling wasn’t wearing any underwear at the moment. Ville turned to Mige (thank God it meant that he was facing Bam as well) and smirked, looking him straight in the eyes, arching his lower back to show Mige his erection, which was damn visible under the smooth, shiny leather of his pants.
“Well, fuck me sideways!” Bam thought.
Mige giggled in response. Nevertheless, he didn’t hesitate for a second from performing the above mentioned stunt, although, fairly speaking, any other man in Mige’s shoes would have given it a second thought, because, to put it real straight, feeling the other man’s stiff cock rubbing against your face would be way too gay.
Only few other things could possibly give Bam a more graphic explanation of the nature of the relationship between Ville and Mige than the fact that Mige didn’t mind having his friend’s dick rubbing against him. Anyway, at least one of them had to be getting a kick out of that situation. Bam was dying to have a smoke, even though usually he never smoked while without a company and sober. Of course, he wasn’t sober. By that time he must have reached his new personal best in terms of the amount of booze drunk in one day, however, to his own surprise, he didn’t feel even a little tipsy. On the other hand, he was so high on the excitement and adrenaline, that it seemed to him, that he had never felt so sober, never felt, seen and experienced everything so clearly and raw.
Well, on the other hand, there was a bright side to that situation as well, Bam thought, looking at Ville, who just drove his crotch into Mige’s ass, clasping him to his naked torso. And on the bright side of things, the worst thing that could happen to Ville during the gig would be him getting too exhausted to get his pecker up.
Alright, go ahead, rub your dick against other men, you horny animal. Go ahead, the more turned on you get - the more I’ll be able to give to you. Damn, the idea to take Ville in a far less conscious state of mind than the times before, while he was high on adrenaline, booze and lust, was definitely a turn on. The images that flashed in Bam’s mind at that thought inflamed him so much that his hands started shaking with desire. It was the first time he had ever felt that way, but the fact that Ville was a guy just like him gave the situation a whole new exciting meaning, for it probably meant that he could really go a little further than he would allow himself with a broad. The guy turned on as much as him, and even if he hadn't been, still, there would be no need for Bam to read the tea leafs to know that. In the end, if Ville wouldn’t appreciate some of his enthusiastic attempts, he could always let him know that by adjusting his mug. Without wasting any words and holding the grunge… The variety of wonderful ways to have fun that suddenly unfolded in front of Bam in its full splendour temporarily overshadowed even the show on the stage. Bam must have slipped into some kind of nirvana, he definitely skipped at least a couple of songs, imagining all of the things he could do with complete impunity and with zero need to think or use his skills in flirting and courting to the horny animal that lay down on the stage in exhaustion …
Oh, that view brought him back to earth. Because the scene was definitely something worth watching. Wet from perspiration, Ville bit his hand with the mic, stroking his naked body with the other hand, at the same time, either brushing away the beads of sweat, or simply because he could. He knew that Bam was getting the best sight at him from the VIP box.
Damn, Willah… you fucking berserk-kitty, let me fucking dive to you on stage and be the first ever sweat-licking mega-towelie?!! It seemed like the electrifying jolt of mega-love sent by Bam’s charged glance made Ville sway a little when he was getting back on his feet, although, his way of changing the position and getting up, particularly, smashed to pieces whatever little knowledge of physics and anatomy Bam had in his head from his school times. Alright, damn it, if anyone dares to come anywhere near you after this fucking show, I’ll reap his goddamn head off anyway. Bam estimated the distance to the dressing rooms backstage, calculated the time he would need to get there before anyone else. He realized that he would have to leave in the middle of the last song and definitely before the encore to make sure that nothing unplanned happened… By a mere accident, of course.
No, he was going to be there before anyone else, and that was out of the question.
It was painfully hard, but Bam managed to stop hanging from the balcony of the VIP box, and dashed towards the backstage area even before the final song. His calculations turned out correct: he had had just enough time to catch his breath, when his Idol darted out into the corridor, slamming the door behind him in a fit of temper.
‘AAAAAAAAAAAAH!’ Bam threw himself at Ville, gushing with excitement.
Most of all, he liked the fact that Ville came backstage alone.
Well, of course, that manner of his probably looked pretty impolite and rather arrogant from the audience’s point of view, but Bam had never appreciated it more than that night.
‘Ouch, Bam, get off me, I’m sweaty as fuck,’ he pushed Bam away.
‘Like I’ve never smelled sweaty men,’ Bam giggled.
‘And why exactly have you done that?’ Ville specified.
‘I figured you would know that,’ Bam said.
Ville snorted and strode away purposefully towards the shower, which was further down the corridor from the dressing room. At that very moment, Bam made an important tactical decision.
‘Are the guys coming any time soon?’ Bam asked him, jumping happily alongside Ville to keep up with his pace.
‘Yeah, I guess they’ll go to the dressing room to have a drink and rest for a while, you could wait for them there. I think I’ve got the key…’ Ville patted his pockets, but Bam interrupted him bluntly:
‘Ville, are you really that stupid?’
‘Do you really think that I came all the way here to hang out with the guys?’ Bam was smiling, but at the same time, there was something strangely harsh about the tone of his voice. ‘Where the hell were you going? The shower? So keep fucking walking, will ya… And don’t even think that you’ll be able to keep me out.’
‘Fucking cocky thug, aren’t you, huh?’ Ville scowled at him.
‘I…’ Bam made a step forward, then another one, basically thrusting himself into Ville’s body in the middle of the corridor, ‘I’m a cocky thug, Ville,’ he said, ‘Even more so, than you can imagine. Wanna try me?’
Fairly speaking, that was a rather poor choice of Bam’s.
‘Well, why not…’ Ville agreed through clenched teeth, closing his fingers around Bam’s neck and yanking his chin up. Bam was expecting a caress, but Ville roughly pushed him off, holding him by the face. Pushed him away very roughly. Pained and hurt, Bam almost forgot to breathe for a moment when he felt his back touch the wall of the corridor.
Ville instantly jumped back, crouching and sneering, looking him in the eyes with his dilated pupils. It took some time for Bam to recover and restrain from immediately jumping down Ville’s throat, because in any other situation he would have already punched his attacker in the face. Ville knew it. He jumped aside and was sneering at Bam with his face saying “What cha gonna do about it?” waiting for his next move. Fucking great! So much for the night of love in Dresden!
Bam lunged at him, shoving his elbow under Ville’s knee, because he figured that his main balance point should be somewhere around that area, and he was right… Ville collapsed on the floor, followed by the torpedo named Bam, who threw himself to his feet, attacking his knees, Ville collapsed on the torpedo with a wail… Bowling merrily with laughter at the same time. Clearly, he was incredibly pleased by the way he provoked Bam. Bam was fighting the desire to strangle him. However, the situation revealed a whole new range of the other things he desired, so he decided to take the wheel and threw Ville off, putting him on the floor face down, straddled him, twisted his arm and pushed his own arm under Ville’s neck, roughly pulling his head up:
‘Are you… Satisfied?’ Bam’s victory in the sparring was as obvious as a morning wood!
‘Na-a-a-a-a-a-a-a-ah, I prefer other means of self-satisfaction…’ the wicked fucker hissed constrainedly from beneath.
Damn it, he made him laugh hysterically… and lose control. Ville twisted out of Bam’s grip, but the only place he could run to was the fucking shower, and Bam, even though his legs were much shorter, was much faster than Ville was. In the end, Bam managed to knock him down once again. Sure enough, this time around, they knew what they were doing, so they landed on the floor rather smoothly, chaffing a little against the rug with Ville’s elbows and the knuckles of Bam’s fists, because he had grabbed Ville by the wrists. Bam looked sidelong at Ville, who lay under him and whose face was turned profile to him, and caught the view of the wicked tongue drawing the line of desire from the nearest to Bam corner, over the upper lip, to the opposite corner. Bam didn’t push his luck any longer and snatched him on the mouth in earnest, not giving a damn about covering his teeth. Ville managed to bite him on the cheek, but who the fuck cared. Apparently, that turned on Bam even more.
Both of them were shaking and suffocating, devouring each other alive, like two wild beasts, knocking their teeth, clinging to each other feverishly with their tongues, demanding even further intimacy with every kiss and every embrace.
The important thing was that they were snogging while laying on top of each other, with Ville’s face pressed sideways against the floor of the goddamn shower, and it seemed like he was getting even a greater kick out if it than Bam was…
Bam, too, would have gotten a hell of a kick out of it, but at first, he was in the deepest shock, simply because until that moment he had no idea that he was allowed do things like that to Him… That happens sometimes, when some of the greatest wisdom of the creation descends upon you, for example, when you learn to what extent of cynicism you can actually go when fucking the person you love. You find yourself at loss, wondering why the hell you have been so dumb?
Generally speaking, that thought was slightly overshadowing Bam’s pleasure of domination. He couldn’t quite wrap his mind around it.
Bam broke off from their kiss, choosing a moment when he was positive that his rival wouldn’t pull any tricks… Well at least not the ones that could really put him out of action, and sprang up to lock the door. The rival rolled over on his back and kicked him affectionately in the ass. So that Bam ploughed into the door with his face…
‘Ville, you’re such an asshole,’ he giggled.
The foot was bare, because Ville hadn’t been wearing any boots on stage. Therefore, all things considered, even the kick felt rather nice on Bam’s ass, so he didn’t get too mad.
When he turned around, that creature, for the lack of better word… of the God Almighty was creeping along the floor towards him on all fours. The creature looked utterly infernal. And fuck, it wasn’t funny at all! Not that Bam felt like laughing or really found it scary, but the view blew his mind at once.
At that very moment he forgot who, what and where he was. The only thing he could see was the half-naked body overcome by a completely animalistic desire, crawling to him, wet from sweat and steam (because they completely fucking forgot that they had turned on the water). He didn’t want to run away, no, he was merely afraid that he wouldn’t be able to satisfy that demonic succubi lust to full extent. He gasped and jerked the zipper of his pants open, freeing his cock. Seriously, it wasn’t like the creature was initially creeping to him with an intention to chat about the weather, in the first place.
Once he unsheathed his dick, he suddenly realized that it was the centre of his power, the source of his supernatural superhuman power, so he smacked it a couple of times against his palm, to meet the Creature with his weapon ready. Don’t get it wrong, he was hard, just got a little strangled by the pants. So he felt that he needed to revive his dick a little to make it look even more beautiful and appealing.
The Creature slowly ran its tongue across the lower part of the crease that divides the head of the man’s dick, stopped for a moment right in the middle of the tiny hole on the top and returned back down, and then the creature licked its lips once again and took the whole head inside of its mouth. Bam thought that he would be ready to build Ancient Aztecs’ mini altars for sacrifices throughout all of the vast expanses of Mexico if that was the price he had to pay so that that mouth… and that hand kept doing what they were doing now.
Ville’s hand seized him firmly at the base, his mouth did the same with the head, fuck, holy shit, there was only one other thing he wanted now, he wanted to see how much HE liked it.
‘Ville, do you know what turns an erotic movie into a porn?’ Bam asked him, breathless.
‘A cock. Hard one,’ Ville said.
Fucking hell, it was impossible to describe, but he managed to answer his question with the intonations of a… retarded kid, absorbed in drawing the limbs of a crooked stick-man. He was holding Bam’s dick in his hands, staring at its head with the look of the Babilon Whore, but the tone of his voice resembled that of a ten-year-old Down kid, ready and willing to do anything he is told to. Fucking hell, he had always had that quality in him and that was driving Bam crazy, he could carry himself as the most fucked up whore, but at some point, he would turn into a good mama’s boy, almost retarded one, who simply followed other people’s directions.
Alright. Cross that.
Was it really a bad thing?
It had never appeared to Bam that he could actually fuck someone as intelligent as Ville the same way that he would fuck a mentally retarded farmer’s stepsister of from some distant fucking ranch, lost somewhere among the valleys of Pennsylvania. Ville even behaved somehow similar at times… Bam had had the time to notice. Sometimes he jabbered off topic for a bit too long, or pouted his lips a bit too much, or exposed his sex appeal a bit too much, not that he realized that just now, Bam had speculated about it for a long, long time… He was the God, the Rock and Roll God, but at the same time, he had in him what goes among the genteel world under the name of a mentally retarded cousin from Texas. That slut, who fucked every single male in the neighbourhood, unless he is a complete fucking faggot. The one, who gives you the simplicity of a kid, and the kink, and makes you feel the mightiest of all men, because she would give herself to you in the way that no other mentally complete bitch could even imagine possible.
Holy fucking god, how could he suck his dick like a mentally retarded slut, moaning and jerking him with his hand at the same time? AND OH GOD, THE WAY HE MOANED! It wasn’t even as if he picked it up somewhere, no, it was all natural, all fucking natural, he even started to moan at first as if he was a retarded imbecile, demanding one more serving of his pumpkin soup, holy fuck, holy… fuck… HOLY FUCK!!! Bam grabbed him by the face, feeling it go down on his dick with that naive animalistic groan…
It was important to find a way not to come somehow, considering all of the above. Not that he wouldn’t like to, but now he was ready for something real mischief… And of course, he knew that that was exactly what he was expected to do.
He grabbed Ville by the face. Ville froze in front of him with his mouth open, catching the movements of his dick. Bam grabbed him by the face and thrust his rod deep inside, slowly, causing tolerable discomfort, but pushing further anyway… two green lanterns below, with the dilated pupils, disturbed him… He covered them with his palm and cynically yet gently slapped the guy who was blowing him on the cheek, hit him slightly, with no intention to hurt, more like giving a slap on the ass that gives the right stimulation and turns on even more. Bam had seen it hundreds of times in porn, he just wanted it to work, and fuck, it did work.
Ville took almost his entire shaft into his mouth, clearly far beyond his comfort zone, jerked, but, nevertheless, stayed where he was, taking his dick even deeper.
Bam yelled desperately:
The erotic contact stopped at once. When Bam finally caught his breath and recovered himself a little, he found Ville laying on his back on a fucking towel, which was soaking wet from the water that was running from the shower, and undoing his pants.
Bam dashed down, pulling the goddamn polyvinylchloride also known as “leather” off the bare thighs. It was fucking important to strip him down of those wicked pants, because the thing was that Bam was still fully clothed apart from his love rod, which the fucking succubus had already sucked round in the most voluptuous manner.
Bam made it and threw his leg over Ville, who was laying on the floor. Alright, let’s put it this way, not that he chickened out, he simply couldn’t think straight anymore. He remembered for sure that he is supposed to be on top, when Ville hit him backhand across the face.
Took his revenge.
Cynically bit back for the bitch slap earlier on.
Ville dealt him a slap on the face, a truly girlish slap, which had nothing to do with male sparring. Simply a backhand slap on the cheek.
‘Wake up,’ he was told.
Bam thumped him in the face in response way before he could even realise what he was doing. Ville gave him another slap on the face, not heavy, but a rude and obnoxious one. Bam didn’t have the time to grasp it and hit Ville in the face once again, a turned on moan that he got in response burst his eardrums and something in between his ball and his dick, sending the wave of rising ecstasy throughout his body. Actually, Ville was right and Bam should have been more active in the given situation.
Bam sharply threw Ville’s arms up, holding him by the wrists with his hand, recklessly burying his teeth into Ville’s chest, into his neck, not in the least conscious about leaving the marks, getting a kick out of the salty taste of sweat mixed with water that spread all over the floor and saturated the damp towels on which they lay. That taste was turning him on even more.
‘I’m gonna fuck you right now,’ Bam hissed, losing his breath. He twisted Ville’s nipple with his fingers, stimulating it with a vibrant slap. Ville howled enthusiastically, managing somehow to reach Bam’s hand, which was holding his arms, and snatch with his teeth. Bam wasn’t supposed yell, but he yelled, simply because all of that was a bit too much for him. It seemed to him that even a bite of that creature could make him come, and it seemed like a brilliant idea… So he couldn’t lose any other minute.
Perhaps, he should have asked or at least warned Ville, but Bam forgot all words, what he felt wasn’t even desire, it was some kind of an epic amok. He roughly put the guy on his stomach, and thrust his dick inside at full speed, without much thinking… However, Ville’s voice that barked something that vaguely sounded like “Motherfucker, are you fucking nuts?” sobered him a little. Bam remembered that he was dealing with a living person so he gently bit Ville by the neck, trying to ease the pressure of his body on Ville’s thighs, and made an effort to move slowly back and forth.
Ville arched his back, falling onto his hands, so Bam could feel the movements of his body better, and Bam had to agree in his heart that from the technical point of view, it felt much better than his pathetic rape attempt earlier, or whichever way to call it.
Frightened that he nearly ruined everything by his awkwardness, Bam sobered up even more. And that was, too, for the best. Because after a couple of minutes of complex mutual adaptation they were fucking merrily, like a happy pair of dogs, without the use of any creative resources, and most of all Bam liked the fact that Ville was fucking him back. He was acutely changing the tempo and rhythm, and the amplitude of his movements, and soon enough, he achieved what he had been striving for from the very beginning, the one below stopped thinking straight, concentrating, as Bam could see, on his own ecstatic feelings, howling out loud, encouraging Bam to increase the intensity the frenzied onslaught of his dick none the worse than the blazing flame that was filling the loins of the young lover, who had experienced so much in the last few days.
They reached the peak together, even though the beginning boded no good. Bam was hoping that no one was standing behind the door of the shower and listening to their infernal roar, when they forgot how to breathe, when their brains got electrocuted by the jolt of ecstasy. A second before the orgasm Bam felt that he is probably going to burst into pieces, explode and die, because it felt so good that it was incredibly painful at the same time, and at the very moment when he thought “that’s, it I’m gonna fucking die”, it happened. He didn’t even understand that the same thing happened to Ville, simply because he was unable to feel or think about anything for a couple of moments.
And then Ville decided to take a shower.
Bam said thoughtfully that he is going to rub his back and stepped into the shower after him, right as he was. With his pants dropped down, and not bothering with taking off his shirt or his shoes.
They were walking back to the dressing room in silence, without talking.
Ville was walking ahead of him, wrapped in two towels. One was covering his hips and another one he wrapped around his head, the leather pants were waving on his shoulder like a black flag, signalling the thorough victory of the evil. Ville was swaying slightly from side to side, as if he was fairly drunk. However, earlier on, when he really was drunk he hadn’t been swaying like that.
Bam’s path of motion also more or less resembled a sinusoid. He walked after Ville silently, sniffling from time to time, all of his clothes were completely drenched, and his shoes were making a passionate come-hither squelching sound at his each step. He expected Ville to laugh at him, but Ville wasn’t laughing for some reason. Bam sincerely hoped that it wasn’t because he showed himself a complete looser, who had never had sex. He tried to squelch with his shoes a little louder and giggle, hoping to get at least some reaction from Ville. But Ville didn’t even turn around to look at him. Bam’s heart sank. All of a sudden, he felt embarrassed that he was, to put things straight, pretty bad in the sack.
Well… Not really in the sack, but… overall. Suddenly he thought that his behaviour was probably rather unimpressive indeed. Back then, he wasn’t really thinking about Ville’s needs. He wasn’t thinking at all. His brain got paralysed by emotions. And what if he fucking disappointed Ville completely?!
Deep in his gloomy thoughts, Bam didn’t notice when they entered the dressing room.
However, the loud laughter of the lads instantly brought him back to earth.
‘Bam have you ever tried taking your clothes off before taking a shower?’ Gas chuckled, splashing all of them and the surroundings with a fountain of beer from a can that he opened a moment ago.
‘Tee-hee,’ said Bam self-consciously.
His shoes squelched obscenely once again, making everyone in the room shriek with joyful laughter.
‘Want some whiskey?’
‘Thank you, Don Miguel,’ Bam said, grabbing the plastic cup with his both hands.
‘Monsieur, do you fancy a fine spirit to uplift your spirit?’ Mige asked without looking at Ville, who was getting dressed up in the corner of the room.
‘Why, of course I do!’ Ville seemed to be a little offended by the fact that Mige even asked him that question.
‘Look at you, dumbo, you’re literally drenched to the bone…’ Mige gave Bam a caring pat on the head. ‘Look, I’m not going to ask what you two have been doing there, because it would be a pointless lip-labour. There’s only one question I have for you Bam “BUT HOW?”’
‘Hee,’ Bam began again self-consciously, ‘I meant it for the best,’ he took a swig of whiskey, ‘I wanted to give Ville a hand, like… Rub his back… Maybe…’
‘A hand,’ Mige echoed him thoughtfully, as if tasting the phrase, ‘Give Ville a hand…’
‘More like rub his back… Side,’ Zoltan laughed hysterically, ‘A-HA-HA-HA-HA. And I guess your shoes are all drenched because you were so eager to pass him the soap. Way to go, mate!’
Ville was lacing his shoes, but he sharply threw up his head at Zoltan’s words, his eyes narrowing dangerously. Bam saw it, Mige didn’t, but he, too, frowned subtly and shook his head, looking down.
‘Left him with a sore hole from rubbing, didn’t you, boy?’ Zoltan kept gushing out the witticisms, feeling it was finally his time to shine. All of a sudden, the last line about the hole turned out to be truly epic, whether or not Zoltan had originally planned to put that meaning into his message to the world.
‘And. Why. Exactly. Do you care. About my hole. Zoltan?’ Ville approached him, crossing his arms on his chest.
Zoltan was clearly nervous; his shoulders were going up and down, however, he proudly thrust out his chest to meet his rival. He stopped talking, but Ville didn’t step back, the air was getting thick with fresh aroma of ozone, signalling an upcoming storm. Bam sniffled. Even the vivifying whiskey hadn’t saved him from getting perished.
‘Hey, baby-jackass,’ Mige studiously pretended not to notice what was going on between Ville and Zoltan. ‘Where’s your bag? You should probably change into something dry… We don’t want our diver to catch a cold or something, do we?..’
‘I didn’t bring a change with me,’ Bam drawled in a voice of a person with Down syndrome.
‘Ville, tell me, my dear,’ Zoltan drawled out, ‘Do you have a soft spot for retarded people?’
‘If you dare to insult Bam ever again, I will take it as an insult aimed at me personally. You will be out of here, is it clear?’ Ville snapped surprisingly coldly. He retreated from Zoltan and flew out of the room like a bullet, flinging off at the last moment that he would be at Seppo’s.
Everyone started packing at once, for it was obvious that the languid evening had just been epically ruined. Bam stood there, shining, like a fool. Ville had defended him. In front of everyone.
Showed that faggot his real place.
Linde and Mige were delving into Ville’s bag.
‘Cunt, what a fucking cunt,’ Zoltan uttered through clenched teeth. Then he apparently remembered that Bam was still in the room and snarled at him nastily:
‘What now, gonna sell me out to him?!’
‘Did you just call me a rat?!’ Bam resented in earnest. To be honest, that was the last straw, he had had enough with Zoltan, but he was afraid that getting into a fistfight with him right there would be too stupid of an idea.
‘Zoltan, did you have a glass too much?’ Mige asked him tenderly.
‘Here… Put it on,’ Linde gave Bam some clothes.
‘Don’t teach me how to live, you, fucking Ass-Sucker of His Majesty!’ Zoltan lashed out at Mige.
‘Wow, Zoltie,’ Linde resented, still trying to laugh it off, ‘Didn’t I agree to sleep elsewhere tonight, so you could enjoy your mating frolics? And yet here you are, insulting my friends. That’s not a nice thing to do, Zoltie. Not nice at all...’
‘Friends!!!’ Zoltan shrieked with a pseudo laughter once again. ‘Friends my ass! How’s your beloved friend, Mige? The one with whom you’ve been fucking so merrily for so long? How is he? Got bored? Found himself a new boy, who’s younger and prettier than you are?’
Bam never expected to hear a tirade like that in general. And particularly, he didn’t expect to hear it there, from Zoltan, while changing his clothes and standing without his pants in the room full of people, all of whom instantly turned around to look at him.
‘Zoltan,’ Mige said in a startlingly serene voice, ‘I believe there are some things that are inherently none of your business…’
‘I figure you shouldn’t have said that,’ Linde remarked coldly.
The whole life flashed before Bam’s eyes. Finally, he put on his pants and regained the ability to think. And then he understood WHAT exactly Zoltan had said. Hell, he clearly underestimated the evening, when he thought, that it had reached its peak. Mige. And Ville. Mige and Ville. No, of course he did have an inkling that there was something shady going on, but he wasn’t going to dig into details, and now it appeared that… Fucking hell, bloody Mige!
‘Gonna hit me, aren’t you?’
‘And soil my hands with you? Fuck off,’ Mige sniffed and walked out of the room, slamming the door.
‘Ready to go?’
‘Well, Gas, Bam, shall we get going?’ Linde patted Bam on the shoulder as if nothing had happened, grabbed his and Ville’s bags (Bam wormed out of him a permission to carry his guitar to the car), and the three of them shuffled off to the exit.
‘Who the hell he was talking about?’ Gas asked them with astonishment. ‘What Mige’s friend?’
‘Who knows,’ said Linde ‘What kind of wild hair this faggot got up his butt.’
‘Damn, Mige probably hates me,’ Bam said quietly to Linde, almost into his ear.
‘Nah, that’s unlikely,’ Linde said indifferently.
Bam was walking to the car, deeply shaken by all of the occurring. He was torn by conflicting emotions. On the one hand, it felt good to be dressed in Ville’s clothes, which clearly and familiarly smelled of him, even though they were fresh and clean. Feeling his scent felt comforting and appeasing.
On the other hand, there were all of the today’s solicitudes, their sex, Zoltan’s temper tantrum and the words he had said about Mige. Bam didn’t know how to look at Mige from now on. But he figured how Mige had looked at him all this time. Now that he knew that, Bam even felt a little intimidated by Ville’s mate. It was the case when the calm was worse than the storm, and the peacefulness was worth than the anger. Instantly, Bam remembered everything in details, he remembered how Ville asked Mige whether he could go on a date with Bam, remembered all of the ambiguous jokes and allusions, remembered, that Ville literally asked the permission from Mige to let him join the gang. All of a sudden, many pieces of the puzzle fell into place. Making the picture of the world, so to speak, complete.
What a fucking idiot he had been, damn it!
Why hadn’t he asked Ville straight?
Because he was afraid to hear the things that he had heard today.
Bam had no idea what he was supposed to do with all that valuable information now.
When they climbed into the minivan, they saw that Ville was already there. He was discussing something with Seppo, who sat sideways on the front seat. Bam hesitated and got nervous, unsure of what to do. Where to ran, what to do, and what to think. But Ville patted the seat next to him, inviting Bam to sit by his side. He looked up at Bam for a second, poked him with his finger, and burst out laughing, recognizing his own clothes.
‘It’s not like we had many options,’ Mige said, ‘Our Philadelphian Caballero hasn’t brought his wardrobe.’
‘Actually, I told my mom that I went to another state to visit a friend,’ Bam admitted.
‘Did you at least call her, to let her know that you’re… alive?’
‘Er…’ Bam turned sad. ‘You know, I forgot. Well, at first, there were some problems with the signal, then I kinda forgot, and then I remembered, but I guess I drowned my phone tonight.’
Ville burst out with loud laughter. Seppo handed Bam his cell phone and then all of them were laughing quietly over Bam, who was describing the beautiful landscapes of Minnesota to his mom, pretending that the line cut off when the driver swore loudly in German. Well, at least at home the storm had passed by. Bam heaved a sigh of relief.
Zoltan defiantly refused to take the same car.
Ville embraced him by the shoulders incidentally, chuckling at his gown again, and that, too, made Bam’s life a little easier. He could feel Ville radiating tenderness and credence to him and that it even felt a little shocking, for it was such a far cry from Ville in his stage character. Bam couldn’t even have dreamt about something like that. The feeling between the moved him so deeply that he sniffled once again, feeling the tears in his eyes.
‘Have you caught a cold after all?’ Ville asked him simply and quietly.
Bam leaned closer to him and whispered, caressing Ville’s ear with his hot, wet breath:
It was late in the night, so they reached the hotel in practically no time. Ville collapsed on the bed and Bam swiftly leaped on it after him, hugging Ville across the chest. He was wearing his lover’s clothes, and the lover himself lay under him, in fact, the only thing he could do was happily thank all of the existing higher powers and proclaim triumphantly:
‘Fuck, I’m in heaven!’
Mige burst out with Homeric laughter.
‘Welcome to the first circle, out of nine,’ he said.
‘Huh?’ Bam squinted at him.
‘Oh… I’m talking about heaven, of course,’ Mige comforted him. His love started giggling quietly like a retarded hyena. Bam realized that he was still out on some of the jokes, ‘Do you know what heaven’s like, Bam? It’s like your usual fairy tale: the further you go – the scarier it gets.’
Someone knocked on the door.
‘Who are you, and what is your purpose, wayfarer?’ Mige asked the door in a formidable bass.
‘Hey, arseholes, did you forget that you’ve promised to let me in for a sleepover?’
‘Oh, damn, Lily, you’re right, we forgot about that… Come on in, get your ass inside…’ Mige got up from the bed to open the door. ‘The more the merrier. Sure you don’t want to change your mind?’
‘I’m glad to see you too, Mige, long time no see,’ Linde said, throwing his backpack on the floor and carefully leaning his guitar against the wall, ‘But if I see that cunt in my room, I will cut off his dick with a plastic knife and make him eat it. The cunt being Juska.’
‘Juska? Who is she?’ Bam asked. ‘Woah, Linde, you’re so brutal and fierce.’
‘You bet your ass he is,’ said Ville. ‘That’s the proud Viking descendant for you.’
‘Linde, of course.’
‘Wait, and who’s that fucking cunt Juska?’
‘Juska is a big fucking cunt,’ Mige said melancholically, as he lay himself sideways on the bed.
‘She isn’t a Viking descendant?’ Bam specified.
‘She is,’ Ville said, ‘But she’s a lame Viking descendant, and, what’s more, she is a male.’
‘My head is about to burst,’ Bam groaned pitifully. ‘Does anyone here speak human?’
‘The Vikings don’t use the language of mere mortals,’ Mige said. ‘In fact, the Vikings don’t talk to each other at all. There’s nothing to discuss really when they’re out of berserk state, and when they go berserk – there’s no time for talking, because they are too busy being furious. Sometimes they even gnaw at their weapons…’
‘And those who can’t reach their own weapons - gnaw at each other’s…’ Ville added in a tone matching Mige’s.
‘Ville, have you ever spoken to me?’ asked him Mige.
‘I don’t know,’ Ville said, ‘I can’t remember. I’m bad with my memory.’
‘…Couldn’t restrain from gnawing from time to time, though,’ Bam helped him in a very acid tone.
Mige shouted with laughter. Ville didn’t break a smile.
‘Juska is Zoltan,’ Linde finally said mercifully, laying down across the bed and folding his arms.
‘Isn’t Zoltan his real name?’ Bam marveled.
‘No, it’s not. Same goes for the rest of us. Calling each other our real names would be too limiting. You’ll understand that, eventually. On the other hand… It’s all for the best,’ Mige scratched his tummy thoughtfully, ‘This way we are delivered from the need to use the vituperative expressions on each other…’
‘The nasty, offensive ones,’ Mige explained. ‘Using those expressions creates a very unhealthy climate, especially if you are obliged to live with each other in a closed space for an extended period of time, but, unfortunately, it’s simply impossible to restrain from using them.’
‘Oh, I got it! I got it!!!’ Bam yelled merrily right into Ville’s ear. ‘Wait a sec… I’m trying to remember it now… No-no, don’t help me, don’t help me, I’ve learned it… How did it go…’
Mige and Linde didn’t have a slightest intent to help him, as they seemed to realise where the train of Bam’s thoughts was heading. Mige hid his face in his hands, Linde rolled over on his side, raising himself on his elbow to get a better view.
‘RA-KO-HA-MMAS!’ Bam articulated proudly.
‘YOUBLOODYMOTHERFUCKINGTWATSWHOTHEFUCKSPILLEDTHAT?!’ Ville sprang up on the bed, sending Bam flying to the floor. Mige cried with laughter, covering his face with his hands and sitting up, and Linde helped Bam back on the bed, after having had his share of laughing. ‘I see it’s no good asking.’
‘Gappy,’ Bam said tenderly, still giggling. Ville lay down, gravely folding his arms on his chest.
‘Talking dickheads,’ he repeated his expression from earlier on.
‘Sounds like a new name of the band! “Gappy and The Talking Dickheads”!’ Linde said.
‘We could play around with it a little… Something like… “Dickheads Talking”,’ suggested Mige.
‘And The Viking Cunt,’ Bam added. ‘Or is it… The Berserk Cunt?’
‘Bam, do you even realise at whom you’ve just hinted?’ Mige said with a deadly serious expression on his face, moving carefully further away from Ville to the edge of the bed. Without wasting the words, Ville abruptly yanked the pillow from under Mige’s head and whacked him in the face with it in a fit of temper. And left it lay there. Mige didn’t bother moving it as well, laughing out loud from under it.
Linde snorted, and Bam, who only just understood how epic the joke turned out, collapsed on the floor, wailing with laughter.
‘Fuck… Damn…’ he laughed earnestly, clutching his belly, ‘We-e-e-e-e-ela-a-a-a-ah… I… I didn’t want to… I…’
‘You didn’t want to, bah!’ Ville said grimly, although, Bam found a double meaning to that phrase as well and bowled with laughter once again. ‘Speaking about cunts… Since our erotic foursome is clearly beyond redemption… Lily do you think he is done with his Lady of the Night by now?!’
‘I guess,’ Linde nodded, ‘I barely managed to get out of the room before…’
‘Oh yeah, the plastic knife, we remember…’ Mige said.
‘Gentlemen, have you noticed,’ Ville climbed out of the bed, stepping over Bam, who was still laying on the floor and shaking with laughter, ‘How wonderfully close the neighbouring balcony is? Lily, is that your room?’
Ville was rather dumb.
As a teen.
He was dumb in one particular sense.
Yes, exactly, in that one.
By the time his classmates were going out, falling in love, discussing the girls in their class and the high schoolers, and some of them were even having their first sexual experiences, Ville was still spending most of his time hanging out with Linde and Mige in the basement of Mige’s house.
Mige wasn’t asking him why he didn’t have a girlfriend. Mige didn’t have one either, although he was two years his senior. Mige was a fair, hairy, chubby and charismatic dude, who knew Lovecraft by heart. Mige’s mom used to tell him: “Mikko, you’ll never find yourself a girl, unless you stop reading that Lovecraft.”
‘And what is the connection?’ Mige would ask her resentfully.
‘Because what he writes is pure Madness and Satanism! I’ve tried to read some, and it is horrible…’
‘Where does the madness leave off and reality begins?’ Mige meekly recited the words of his favorite author. Ville was standing next to him in the doorway; he came round after school, because he and Mige planned to go to the music store in the downtown for some window-shopping. Mige was supposed to take his mom’s car. Ville didn’t want to witness their conversation about Mige’s personal life, he just happened to be there. And he felt rather uncomfortable.
‘In that very book of yours,’ Mige’s mom said. ‘Right on the first page.’
‘Mom, that book contains the ultimate truth. The most merciful thing in the world is the inability of the human mind to correlate all its contents…’
‘Oh dear God. Cut it off.’
‘…We live on a placid island of ignorance in the midst of black seas of infinity, and it was not meant that we should voyage far,’ Ville continued the phrase.
‘See, mom, Ville understands me,’ Mige said.
‘Unless your Ville plans to become the first man to give birth, that doesn’t take me any closer to having grandchildren, does it?’
Ville timidly hid his head in his shoulders and opened his eyes wide:
‘What’s the point for you to go there? You don’t even have the money to buy anything.’
‘To have a look,’ Mige said expressively.
‘To have a look,’ Ville nodded just as expressively.
‘Didn’t you do that last week?’
‘Mom, you just don’t understand.’
‘No, I do not!’
‘I don’t get why women have to make so much fuss over their children?’ Mikko muttered at the Creation, puffing, while putting on his shoes. The Creation remained silent, his mother, however, did reply:
‘Mige, it seems like our logic has just suffered a crushing defeat in this ideological conflict,’ Ville subtly and tenderly drove his leg under his friend’s knee from behind, so that Mige nearly fell.
‘Stop fucking doing that, asshole!’
‘Whoops,’ Ville giggled.
‘Get out of here. Both of you. Now!’ Mige’s mother gave up on her attempts to pass some wisdom on her offspring.
‘Mom, can I take the car?’ Mige asked swiftly.
There were some other guys with whom Ville was hanging out, apart from Mige and Linde. With some of them, he shared the mutual interest for rap music and skateboarding, as he was pretty good with the board at the time. And with others it was the love for reggae and the Rastafarian sacrament that smelled like a herbal cough syrup. There was no time for off-topic conversations with the former ones, and the latter ones didn’t bother talking in general. They were listening to reggae and smoking weed. There is no place for jibber jabber when you’re smoking reggae and listening to weed. Or was it the other way around?
He didn’t get beaten up too often. Ville had dreadlocks and was wearing a Black Sabbath t-shirt with wide rapper pants. Which means, he usually had enough time to do a runner, while his potential adversaries stood there dazed and confused, trying to figure out for which one of his wrong stances they wanted to beat the crap out of him. He was doing judo several times a week though, just in case. He even started to practice some of the techniques on his younger brother, but the slyness that run in the family made the little ego-centric fucker pick up kickboxing, and the more trophies he brought home from all kinds of competitions, the less Ville's desire to practice his skills on the family members grew.
And nevertheless, the green belt in judo was definitely a good argument in Ville's school quarrels.
And Linde… He and Linde didn’t talk to each other in general. Not that there was some tension between them, no. They were watching the same movies, and judging by the old porn magazines that had the same pages glued together, they were fapping to the same chicks. Ville used to sneak out those outdated magazines from his dad’s shop, so they always had a few at their rehearsal place. They were listening to the same kind of music and Linde quickly learned to copy any of their favorite riffs by ear. Perhaps, Linde simply couldn’t speak. Or, rather, he could, but he felt no need to. People at school picked on him for that, but Ville would always get into fights to intercede for him, because Linde was his friend and no one had the right to even touch him with their finger.
In such situations Linde, who was usually quiet and timid, confirmed the old saying about still waters running deep, because in a critical moment he would go berserk, crushing everything around him and throwing himself at the attackers with some piece of a chair in his arms, threatening to cause some serious injuries. In the end, everyone got tired of that and the bullies left them alone, because it wasn't funny at all.
And still, Ville didn’t have a girlfriend.
Well, he did meet someone at some party; he even courted her for the sake of decency, it seemed right, because everyone else was doing the same thing. He invited her to dance with him at the school disco night, and even kissed her. With tongue even. He didn’t quite understand why exactly he did that, but he hoped that he looked cool.
But even that wasn’t the worst part.
The worst part about his lack of experience was the fact that he missed the moment when he started to care about one of his friends a bit too much. Much more than he should have allowed himself to. He didn’t notice how and when it happened. Or rather, it was too late to do anything about it by the time he noticed it. He would have been more careful, if he had given it a thought in advance. But he hadn’t.
It was a late spring. Which is quite symptomatic per se.
The days were long and the weather was warm. They had a shitload of free time, no money to spend, nowhere to go to and nothing to do. Mige’s mother came home after a work shift and kicked them out of the basement because she wanted to get some sleep and their “boom-bang” was, as she had put it, driving her nuts. It was Linde’s turn to do the homework. He and Ville were classmates and considered the idea of doing their homework each day individually a waste of time, so they did it in turns instead. That day it was Linde’s turn.
Well, after all, he and Mige had their river.
And one joint to share, but a fucking strong one.
Who knows whether it was to blame on the joint, or on the critical lack of the grey matter in his brain, but he asked Mige without further ado:
‘Do you dig french-kissing?’
‘Ville, you aren’t retarded, are you?’
‘I could be, actually,’ Ville said. ‘We can’t be sure. Did I go through a test?’
‘How old are ya, boy?’
‘I will be sixteen years old this year. If I will be lucky enough. Y`know, this saying has always seemed too unreasonably optimistic to me.’
‘Fair enough,’ Mige said.
‘So, do you?’
‘I do what?’ Mige wondered. The heady smell of weed was intoxicating their mind.
Ville took a draw and gave the joint to Mige.
‘I mean, I've spent so much time thinking about it… dreaming… about it… and… it turned out… kinda crappy. And I still don’t get what’s the point of it. Well, I guess I truly am an idiot after all.’
Ville fell silent, looking at the running waters of the Vantaanjoki River.
‘Maybe you did something wrong?’ Mige asked him.
‘How on earth do I know?’ Ville wondered.
‘Hold it for a sec,’ Mige said seriously, Ville grabbed the joint with his left hand.
Mige turned side-ways to him and ran his wide tongue flatly over Ville's mouth. Ville gasped and took him inside. Somehow, this time around Ville instantly got the fucking gist of the whole thing. He also remembered the time when he had been jerking off in his bed as usual, and then by a strange twist of fancy imagined himself cumming on Mige's fair hairy belly. And it had given such a main road to the jet of his potential genetic material, that he even felt rather self-conscious about it for a long time. He never thought that a hairy male stomach could turn him on so much. He had bashfully forgotten about that episode and he didn't remember it until Mige's tongue awkwardly touched his mouth.
Ville wrapped his arms around Mige's head, opening his mouth to him. Sucking his tongue and feeling the sensation of someone else's body splitting his own body down into atoms and then assembling it back into order. For some reason, at that very moment, he understood what that fucking French kiss was all about. He clang to Mige and for about a second he was happy.
For about one, two, five or ten seconds.
Sure enough, his prick joyfully hardened in response. Ville clasped Mige's head harder, snuggling up to him. He felt the scent of his skin and his hair, he felt the heat of his body, and it felt a lot like death... or a lot like life? He couldn't answer that question. The slow warm movement of Mige's tongue felt as if he licked him right into the... um... well, let's say... the heart.
'Are you gay or something?' Mige withdrew himself from Ville in surprise. Carefully, yet persistently pushing him away.
What a twist.
Ville flushed out of terror and shame, his brain got paralyzed by the fact that he couldn't do or say a thing. Frankly speaking, it hadn't appeared to him for a moment that Mige understood him in the most literal sense. It hadn't appeared to him that Mige would kiss him, if he didn't want to do so.
'Err... Me... I... Ehh...' Ville mumbled and sat up quickly, pulling his knees to his chin and hoping against hope that Mige wouldn't notice the drastic change in his bikini line, so to speak. 'No. I thought you were.'
'Haha,' Mige said. 'Wanna take a drag?'
'Nah, I'm good,' Ville said.
It would be stupid and even cowardly to deny anything or try to make amends. He was sure that Mige understood everything. He suddenly felt like it was the end of everything. The end of his life even. Well, maybe not "the end of his life", that would be too radical, but soon enough he told Mige that he had to meet someone and quietly made his escape, pondering over his fate of a loser. Mige tactfully allowed him to walk away, making his attitude towards the situation even clearer. Tactfully pretending that nothing had happened.
The nasty thing was that he had to meet Mikko the next day. It was a shitty perspective by itself, but it would become even shittier, if he pussed out after what had happened. So now, after taking a headlong dive into a gutter of shame, he had to keep a happy face and smile like it was nothing. Fuck, alright then, in such case nothing had happened indeed. Oh, did anything happen? He pressed the doorbell.
Mikko's mother opened the door.
'Hullo, ma-am' Ville said. 'Could you call Mikko?'
‘Sure, Ville my dear. HEY, MIKKO!’ She called across the corridor. ‘How are things with your conjoined studies of Lovecraft?’ She asked him affably.
It was simply impossible to put into three words all the things that ran through Ville's mind in terms of that question. Therefore, he gave Mikko’s mom a Roland for her Oliver:
‘Fhtang?’ She asked him unsure.
‘Fhtagn,’ Ville corrected her tactfully.
‘I see you’ve made significant progress since the last week, young man,’ Mige’s mom said. Sure enough, there was a fair share of sarcasm in her voice as she said that.
‘MOM, YOU CALLED?’
‘I didn`t. It was Cthulhu. Fhtagn,’ said Mrs Paananen, stepping away from the door.
‘Holy Cow! What have you done to my mother, you bastard?’ Mige asked him gaily.
‘Heh,’ Ville said gloomily, turning around and skipping down the stairs.
‘So, where do we go?’ Mige followed him.
‘Wherever. I don’t give a fuck.’
‘Dude, what's wrong? You seem fucked up.'
‘Well yeah, dude, "fucked up" is your normal state. But today you’re kinda twisted. Twistedly fucked up.’
‘Piss off,’ Ville said.
'WHY THE HELL YOU'RE BEING SUCH A SISSY?' Mige resented at the last step of the stairs, and at that very step, Ville's fist met his jaw.
Mige couldn't believe it for a second, he didn't understand why the stars flashed before his eyes, Ville punched him right in the face. Mige caught him at the door, twisted his arm and quietly drove him face forward into the wall. No, he didn't shove him against the wall, he just pressed him against it, he was bigger, it wasn't hard for him to do.
'What the fuck, Valo?' He asked him in a low voice. In a very low voice. Which usually meant that Mige was infuriated as the Satan himself. Truth be told, Ville even got a little scared.
'Shit,' Ville blurted out, all of a sudden it started to dawn on him that he had done something wrong.
'You don't punch your friends in the face,' Mige said.
'My bad,' Ville said. 'Punch me.'
Mige silently pushed his fist into Ville's chin. He did it as an educational measure rather than to hurt him, but Ville reeled back anyway. Despite the sharp sting of fury and resentment, which automatically rushed through him, he gritted his teeth and managed to keep himself in check.
'Friends?' Mige asked him.
'Friends,' said Ville.
That was almost the end of their conversation for that day. They reached the rehearsal place in silence, went through the songs without exchanging a word. When it started to get dark, Ville decided to get going. Oddly, Mige said that he would walk him home.
Ville shrugged, but didn't dare to object. It was better still to have a company, rather than walk home alone; they even had a little chat on the way back. They mostly discussed the rehearsal. But still.
'Well... See you later, alligator… Bye-bye for now,' Ville said and turned around to open the door.
'Ville,' Mige called him.
Mige approached Ville from behind and turned him around sharply to see his face.
'Buddy, I must've hurt you with my words, somehow,' he whispered. 'I didn't mean to.'
Ville trustingly hid his mug in Mige's shoulder. He didn't know what he was thinking or feeling about it. By that point, he knew nothing at all. He simply hid his mug in Mige's shoulder, while the guy was slowly stroking his hair. Part of him wanted to take an offense, but then he wouldn't be able to stand there with his head buried in Mige's shoulder. And again, he liked the fact that Mige was apologizing to him and stroking his hair.
'Faggots-maggots,' a painfully familiar voice announced voluptuously from behind Ville's back in an ecstatically merry and sugary manner. The voice could belong to only one person in the whole Universe.
'I'm taking out the garbage for you for two days in a row,' Jesse said. He really was standing in the doorway with a garbage bag. A diminutive, tow-haired and long-nosed kid, dressed in a sleeveless shirt and shorts that were going all the way down to his knees. 'If you don’t take it out for me tomorrow, I'll tell our daddy that you've been getting all lovey-dovey with Mizee.'
'What a douche,' Ville said, reluctantly breaking his embrace with Mige.
'Takes one to know one,' said Jesse, dragging the bag after him. 'I'm toiling here for you like a galley slave, you could actually thank me sometime for a change.'
'That's the burden of a junior for ya,' Ville said. 'It's like you've got the raw end of the stick, you know. Deal with it.'
'Imma sell you o-o-o-out,' Jesse drawled from around the corner.
'I'll solve six math problems for you.'
'Is that a "no"?'
'The trash is on you for the rest of the week.'
'I sense a catch in this agreement, but I'm too young to prove it...' Giggled Jesse, dragging the plastic bag along the ground to the trash container.
Shortly thereafter, Mige was conscripted into the armed forces. They didn't take Ville because of his asthma. It was around that time that he had to spend about two weeks in hospital with a terrible flare-up, because he thought that he knew better than following doctors' prescriptions. Moreover, he excluded the control medications from his diet. Medications are for pussies! In the end, he got hospitalized in a critical condition.
Linde dodged the draft by pretending to be mentally unstable. He didn't have to try too hard, he was just being his usual self. Cryptically enough, Mige was welcomed to do the military service with open arms, which left Ville and Linde quietly wondering whether their fatherland was desperately lacking on conscripts that year.
Sure thing, they got so loaded on Koskenkorva at Mige's sending-off that Ville could barely walk, he was nearly crawling on his fours when he came back home. Well, he fell at least a couple of times on the stairs and even puked on each floor on his way to make the picture complete.
They swore like two fiancées to wait for Mige to come back from the army and don't make any decisions regarding that band, which the three of them had together (and which had no name yet) without him.
They were preserving their celibacy as well as they could.
They spent two weeks to write down the lyrics of Chris Isaak's song, and then three more weeks to record all the instrumental parts. Ville sang and played drums on that record, and Linde poured out his soul on guitar and bass. They were pretty happy with the result, but they wanted to show it to Mige prior to releasing it into the world. Without his approval, it all seemed like a child's play to them.
Speaking of celibacy.
It was around that time that Ville met Hiili.
Well, in fact, they already knew each other. Or rather, they had seen each other at some gig about a year ago, but they didn't really hang out together, because there was Mige and... Well, simply because they didn't. And this time Ville felt really out of place, so Hiili, who opportunely said the magic words "Fancy some beer to go?" appeared next to him just at the right time.
'We've met here at that party, remember?' He said. 'I'm Hiili Hiilesmaa.'
'And I am Ville Valo,' Ville said. In all fairness, he didn't remember the party Hiili was talking about, but he had no reason to suspect that his interlocutor had something bad in intention. If he says that they've met, then they must have really done so. Probably. May be.
'I have no money for beer,' he said. 'And I am sixteen years old.'
'Which means you don't drink?'
'Which means I’d die for beer, but no one wants to take my life,' Ville put things straight.
'I see your point,' Hiili said and walked away only to come back a few moments later with four glasses of beer, which immediately proved him to be an incredibly appealing human being in Ville's eyes... For the time being at least.
'Are you a bass player?' Hiili asked him.
Ville shrugged, sipping eagerly on the elixir of the blessed. Welcome to the world of show business for a newcomer. Sometimes, maybe once a month, you get an occasional chance to enjoy a free beer in exchange for all your blood, sweat and tears.
'I've never seen such a young dude playing a six-string bass,' Hiili poured a portion of soft sawder into his ears. The beer was dissolving in Ville's stomach, giving him a slight sensation of weightlessness, so he didn't notice the flattery. 'That's why you caught my eye that night,' Hiili continued.
'I can play different instruments,' Ville said. 'But I'm best at playing bass and drums.'
For some reason, he felt that it would be somehow too presumptuous and lame to admit that he was a singer in the band that he, Mige and Linde had together. 'I play in a several bands,' he said.
A half an hour and three glasses of beer later, he coyly admitted with a blush that he was actually singing a little in one of those bands. He also said that he was waiting for his friend to come back from the national service and say whether he likes whatever they had recorded or not. And if he does, then maybe he would like to show that recording to someone.
'A friend?' Hiili asked him.
'A friend,' Ville said.
Long story short, Ville allowed Hiili to take him.
Into his mouth.
It was a very strange thing.
Everything was strange. They were chatting, Hiili struck Ville by his knowledge in music, well, in all the NON metal music. Techno, eighties bands, synth-pop and so on... He was hellishly good at synth-pop. Ville liked it. He discovered the bands like Duran Duran and Depeche Mode... It was worth it. It was worth the time they spent together. They were listening to some rare amateur recordings of some unknown bands and finding something interesting where no sane person ever would. They were spending hours, eagerly watching videos from some old live concerts, and generally doing all the stupid things, which the crazy melomaniacs are supposed to do.
Ville became a regular guest at his house. They even picked up some chicks that night and invited them to listen to Depeche Mode and Duran Duran. It was only some time later that Ville came to realize that those chicks had been just a part of Hiili's plan. At the time, he really thought that Hiili got the chicks for both of them. Truth be told, it did scare him a little, but he showed no sign of it. It has to be said that Ville to his credit didn't object too much when the company of the girls transformed into a blowjob. He was the one receiving it.
In all fairness, he was in no position to raise an objection in case someone was willing to give his willy some oral caress. Or rather, he would like to see an idiot, who would agree to...
And now there he was, the idiot, and it turned out to be such an enchanting experience. Well, no girl would blow him, he knew that for sure, he wouldn't even know how to ask. And his new friend was blowing him. He was blowing him sensually and assiduously, licking and smacking his lips, like in gay porn.
Well, Ville had seen that too.
He just couldn't understand whether he liked it or not. Hiili was diligently smacking his lips, and as Ville looked at his head going up and down, he knew that there was no way he would ever want to fuck Hiili. Although all that sloshing and smacking was rather exciting.
As a matter of fact, at the very moment when Hiili occupied his crotch, Ville was pondering over one particularly big issue, which rarely gets the deserved attention in big literature, despite being quite prominent in our real life. Ville really wanted someone to blow him. So he would know what it is and how it feels. But the second someone started to blow him, Ville knew for sure that more than anything in this world he would like to have one particular other person in place of that someone. Not that the fair-haired man was that bad at what he was doing. Well, Ville didn't know much about it, but by the appearance of it, everything looked like Hiili wasn't bad at all. Ville was just a little bit disappointed, because that kiss with Mige, which almost made him cum into his pants, impressed him a thousand times more.
It would be very rude of him to hurt the feelings of the person, who was standing on his knees before him, pretending to be a gay-porn-star of sorts, so Ville picked his nose thoughtfully. Then he closed his eyes and tried to concentrate on the physical sensations. His dick was hard though. Of course it was. In those days Ville was sporting a hard on almost on a daily basis. But Ville didn't notice any significant change in the internal dynamics of its state. He tried to think of something else, afraid to go soft on Hiili. He didn't want to look like an awkward goofball in his eyes. Ville clasped his hand around the base of his cock, hoping that the familiar touch would work as it usually did when he was touching himself.
And soon enough, he grew limp.
Either the persistence of the individual worked, or it was the familiar touch, or maybe it was due to the delightful image of his friend's soft, hairy belly, covered in his cum that flashed in his head, but Ville's breath quickened, he arched his back and suddenly came in the senior's mouth. Hiili choked and started back. Ville giggled, covering his mouth with his hand:
'That's ok, love,' Hiili said. He even felt a little flattered by his new lover's unexpected passionate outburst. And then Ville started to feel uncomfortable about the whole thing. There was no tenderness for Hiili in his heart, but there was an overwhelming sense of gratitude for what he had done to him. That very sense of gratitude even allowed him to imitate a somewhat sensual and passionate goodbye kiss. He grabbed a bottle of Koksenkorva with him when he was leaving Hiili's place, and drowned the whole bottle on his way home. It seemed to him that he didn't even get tipsy. He just kept falling as he walked, for some reason.
Unfortunately, by the time he made it home the sun was already up. And so was his mother, who was, so to speak, eagerly waiting for him to come back:
'Mom, I'm not... not a... vir... gin anymore,' said the son, sliding down the wall.
'I'm going to become a grandmother?' His mother uttered through clenched teeth.
'Wha? Haaaaaa... TEEEE-heeeeeheeeeeeeeee... hahaaahaaaaa,' the rest and hope of the family a.k.a. the shitloaded elder son bawled with laughter from the floor. 'Holy cripes! That would be a freaking show, if you... If I... ha-ha-haaaaa.'
'Ville, you're so drunk, I don't even want to talk to you. Go sleep it off.'
'Maa-dam, er... c-could you please... s-show me... to... my... r-room? Naaah stop it... don't... Why dragging me by the ear... it fucking hurts, you know... I'm not swearing... I...'
Well, and that's about it. That's how it all happened.
Of course, the next day Ville felt regret about his sexual experience, but that must have been due to hangover depression mixed with guilt. Hiili called him in the evening, and Ville told him about his epic return of the prodigal son. They both laughed about it, and Ville came to think that Hiili was in fact a decent guy.
A couple of days later a thought came to him, while he was lazily jerking off in the morning. In fact, the only time such a thought could come to one's mind is during a lazy morning jerk.
He thought that since Mige had denied him and Hiili was so easy to get along with and wasn't asking from him anything in return, then maybe he should avail himself of the situation a little more. At least his self-esteem rose dramatically after the said events. Turns out, things weren't that bad, and he was so desirable to someone, that the person was ready to get down on the knees and please him. It was interesting. He knew that he would've done it for Mige. In fact, he nearly did it a couple of times, and the only thing that stopped him from doing it was the thought that he would regret about it for the rest of his life. He didn't want to lose Mige as a friend.
It was pretty cool that Hiili was in love with him. Oh yeah, it was definitely cool. Ville even made a peculiar kind of entertainment out of it when Mige came back from the army: fucking with Hiili, while completely cold-headed, and then merrily maintain his friendship with Mige. For some reason, he was getting a twisted kind of kick out of feeling nothing during sex, apart from the sex itself. It was giving him a ravishing sense of freedom and liberty. A freedom over himself, in the very least. And Hiili was sweet. They became really good friends.
And then one night they were playing a gig and met a woman, who shaped their life almost as much as their mothers had. Silke. A foreigner, married to a Finn, manager in show business. She liked them unexpectedly lot, although she was laughing for three hours straight at Ville and his habit to sing with his ass turned to the audience.
'You've got a nice ass, Ville, but trust my experience, the audience would like to see your face as well, at least sometimes.'
Ville was very shy, but he liked Silke. She was easy to talk to, almost like a guy, although a girl. Well, it would be an overstatement to say that she was like a mother to them, but she definitely was like an elder sister. He and Mige discussed it. All in all, she seemed trustworthy and was an authority to both of them.
And Silke liked them. And the fact that she liked them turned out to be a truly life changing thing. It wasn't even that she was good at talking business, it was that she introduced them to Seppo's wife. Even in their wildest dreams, they couldn't imagine to get themselves Seppo – the legendary manager of Hanoi Rocks, but his wife agreed to manage them. Ville and Mige got wasted to the success of that enterprise, although their hands were shaking. It was completely unbelievable, but it looked like they were given the opportunity to take their band a bit further, break away from small clubs and Finnish underground scene. Sure thing, nothing was set in stone yet, but damn it, they were given a chance to make their lifelong dream come true!
Then Ville met a beautiful girl.
And for some reason she was willing to fuck him.
It was some kind of a completely unexpected, wonderful coincidence, and he promised himself that he wouldn’t blow that opportunity.
Every single thing about her was enchanting. Starting from the shiny black curls and eyes, to her pussy that was getting wet during sex.
Turns out, Mother Nature was much more caring in terms of lubrication and comfort of the coitus than he originally thought. Of course, she didn't suck nearly as good as Hiili, in fact, she couldn't suck at all, her attempts to imitate passion by sucking around the head of his dick (which he personally didn't consider to be that big) could barely pass for a blow job. But he liked to fuck her for a whole number of esthetical reasons.
He really liked her body, he liked her face and the glimpses of passion in her facial features and her eyes. He was too late to realize though that it wasn't a passion or desire for him, it was her natural, universal charisma, so to speak. He liked her legs, her lips, her dainty fingers, but most of all, he liked himself with her.
All of a sudden, the whole family was very serious about it, when he introduced his girlfriend to his parents. It was as if he was instantly taken to the next, higher level of the game. In a clap, everyone started to treat him like a man, and not a boy. Linde and Mige suddenly became very respectful and courteous towards him. As if by a sheer fact of having a girlfriend, he earned the respect, which he didn't have before. It was as infatuating as the hair, face, pussy and legs of his loved one. He almost felt like an overhuman. Hiili was a little upset about the fact that Ville found himself a girlfriend, but... The thing was, around that time Seppo had taken over his wife's project and they started to record their first official album. Ville nearly went crazy, for it meant that they were facing opportunity to get into the same league as his idols: Ozzy, KISS and Depeche Mode. He pretty much moved into the studio. He was spending all of his time there, days and nights, afraid to miss the moment.
Hiili nearly spit out his guts, laughing at him.
'You're eating some plastic shit and sleeping on that ancient, abused fucking couch.'
'I didn't abuse that couch!' Said Ville.
'You are fucking nuts,' said Hiili.
'I am,' Ville agreed in all seriousness.
Hiili liked his determination. He wasn't as self-assured. He was looking forward to see where it all would go.
Ville's girlfriend didn't like the fact that he preferred to spend the nights at the studio, sleeping on the couch. First of all, she didn't believe him. And for some reason he hadn't found the words eloquent enough to get his point across and explain to her how much the whole deal meant to him. Well, and she, in her turn, clearly had no desire to understand him. Each of them was pursuing a different goal, as it often happens in gender conflicts. She was trying to get the best deal for her cunt, and he was a fool, thinking that she was looking for love and passion like he was.
Naturally, she liked the royalties that came with him being some-what famous. The parties, photoshoots, concerts and her queen status were wonderful. So were his flat and his obsession with her, but they were constantly on a tight budget. He always though that he should invest the money in that enterprise of his. He was spending all the money to get a better studio for the recording session, make the promotion, advertisement and all that happen, because, according to him, it cost a lot of money, but it was necessary. Apart from that, he hadn't given her even as much as a hint that he was willing to take their relationship to the next level, namely to have at least a verbal consent to a civil marriage.
Soon enough, she decided that Ville was a useless prick, who wasn't worth spending her best years on, and that he would never amount to anything. He knew nothing about women. He didn't understand her at all, moreover, it hadn't even appeared to him at the time that there was some underlying motive in her actions, which was supposed to understand. In his world, he loved her more than he loved himself. When she called him, saying that someone sneaked into their apartment, he ran to her from the other side of the city, because it would've taken longer by any other means. He was ready to give his life for her. To him it was natural, because she was his woman, and he was her man. How could it be any other way?
He made the typical mistake of a young man, he took her lies and manipulation for truth. He took the desire to get herself a lifelong slave, who would ensure and reinforce her actualization as a woman - for love. But she had such beautiful hair, legs and pussy. It just had to be true. Soon enough, she decided that Ville wasn't the prince of her dreams, and that she could get a better deal elsewhere. She was breaking up with him when he was too busy with his work to spend enough time with her, she was coming back, if he was giving her the money to buy what she wanted. He couldn't understand what was wrong with him, because she, naturally, wasn't telling him.
At one point, after one final quarrel they separated for good and divided their estate. She moved out of his apartment, and took with her every single thing they had bought over the course of their relationship.
Following that, Ville quite predictably felt himself a loser, who fucked up his relationship. He tried to apologize, or so it seemed to him, he tried to set things right with her, but then, all of a sudden, he felt that he didn't have the strengths to do that. Maybe he was too weak, maybe she was right, and he really didn't have the balls, at least not in the sense that she was looking for.
Ville felt really uneasy. He got down with a terrible fever and flu. His dear asthma immediately made its step on the scene and trapped him in the Bermuda triangle of medications to sleep through the night without waking up, suffocating, unable to inhale or exhale. It was a funny illness, that asthma thing. During the day he usually felt just fine. He was just like a normal human being, he went to bed and then every night he would wake up in the middle of the night in a cold sweat, unable to breath in or out. The immediate sting of panic was only making the things worse, because the more time it took him to calm down, the further was the moment when he could come to his senses, when the raspy wheezes of a dying man, each promising to be the last one, turned into normal breath.
He couldn't really tell anyone that he was suffering from coughing – the guys were usually laughing at him, and he was afraid to go to sleep each night. He usually went to sleep as he was, in full dress, so to speak – so in case he died, people didn't find him lying there in his sponge bob underwear or, better still, without any underwear at all. It was nearly impossible to explain that overwhelming terror to someone, who didn't have to go through it every night, and each cough was threatening to cause a new asthmatic attack. Everyone was making a laughing stock of him, while he made a habit to glorify each new dawn.
Because a dawn meant relief.
The mornings were hard, because the asthma pills, which he was supposed to take, were reducing the blood pressure, so he couldn't sleep at night for five hours straight... from the start of the asthmatic attack until the end of it. He could barely remember who he was in the morning. After a cup of coffee. And then he switched to something that was a little bit stronger than coffee. Just a tiny bit. And fuck, he was able to sleep after that. He could sleep when he was drunk. When he was going to sleep sober, two thirty in the morning were waking him up with a choking fit, making him wake up and do something. And when he was drunk, he could sleep through the night. No one could ever explain that to him. But he could sleep through the night, when he was drunk. The medicine was helpless, as they say. The fear of a sudden death that could come any night infiltrated his guts as nothing else could.
He was celebrating each new day like a fucking vampire, or something of an opposite nature. Because he knew that he was alive still. He liked to make jokes about it, he knew his fear, but the problem was there, and especially after the break up with the girl of his flickering dreams, the problem swallowed him up to the point when he simply couldn't sleep.
And that day it was the same... He was just afraid to go to sleep sober and he really wanted to get drunk. Mige kindly came round with two bottles of whiskey, saying that he wanted to support his friend in a difficult situation. And that was a timely aid. Actually, that's where it all had started.
Ville had lost control.
He was drunk. Otherwise, he wouldn't have done that. He remembered that he wasn't supposed to do that. He treasured his relationship with the Mige, and the last thing he wanted to do was fuck that up, too.
But he was drunk.
After the amount of alcohol in his blood had reached a certain high level, he decided to make a move on Mige once again.
Why the hell did he do that? Why the hell...
At first, the two of them were lying on Ville's improvised bed, which consisted of nothing but a frameless mattress, lying on the floor. Ville rested his head on Mige's lap and was pensively exhaling the clouds of cigarette smoke into the ceiling. Then they drank some more, and Ville went cuddling up to Mige, who was reclining on the mattress with his back resting against the wall. By that time Ville couldn't give a flying fuck whether Mige would punch him in the face or not, he just wanted to have that moment of intimacy with him. To feel his warmth, even if that meant that he would only have a couple of seconds. At that moment, it really felt like it would undoubtedly salvage him.
Ville threw his arms around Mige's neck and kissed him on the cheek. Mige didn't turn a hair. Seeing that his rival chose to follow the wait-and-see policy, Ville waited a little, and rubbed his nose gently against Mige's neck, letting out a barely audible moan, as he felt the goose bumps on Mige's skin. Of course, the sensitive skin on the neck couldn't stay numb to such a stimulation, but Ville wanted to know for sure whether there was something more behind that reaction. Mige's arm on Ville's waist was as steady as ever, and it didn't even twitch in response to Ville's manipulations. That won't do. No way Ville was going to let Mige get away with such a response. Ville licked Mige's neck, running his tongue from his lower jaw to the collar bone. Once, and once again, and once more.
'Ville...' Mige caught him by the neck and tangled his fingers in Ville's hair, which Ville had chopped off in a heat of temper a couple of days earlier. Whatever, that way it was even easier to grab a fistful of his hair and pull his head up.
'Wat?' Ville asked him.
'Do you really need another lesson on kissing?' Mige asked him, referring outright to the moment in the past, which had become so very critical for both of them.
'Oh, I've learned that,' Ville replied quietly. 'I've even learned so much more,' he grabbed Mige by the belt. 'Mize, you have no idea how much I've expended my knowledge... Mize, you know, I wasn't wasting my time...'
'Oh God Almighty, that's what I've been afraid of all along, but only divine providence could've prevented that.'
'Stop being an idiot, do you want me to give you a head? I can, you'll like it, I promise, please, let me do it...'
Ville's lips traced their way down his stomach, his hands undid the buttons of Mige's shirt. Frankly speaking, Mige couldn't quite believe that everything was happening for real. He couldn't believe how audacious Ville became all of a sudden. However, he wasn't sure if "audacity" was a bad thing after all. He was just a little shocked by the determination and assurance that Ville had about what he was doing... Ville unbuttoned his shirt, licking him up the way he would lick up a girl – slowly making his way from his lips to his collar bones, further down Mige's chest, stopping there for a moment to pull up Mige's t-shirt so it didn't get in the way, and voluptuously encircling his hairy nipples with his wet tongue. What the hell was that? Did he really mean it? Did he really want to go all the way? Mige reflected on it for a moment. He liked everything about what was happening.
Until that moment, Mige had been living under impression that licking was a sexual activity assigned to chicks. Well... No, no chick had ever done that to Mige, but he thought... He heard somewhere that they are supposed to. Fairly speaking, his friend's tongue was damn impressive at it, although, despite some sporadic heterosexual experiences that Mige had had before, he didn't really have a point of reference.
No chick had ever pushed him on the bed, looking completely possessed by desire, moaning lustfully like a cat in heat, and licking his stomach, his tits, his armpits, and his sides... "Mige, I've learned so much more, than you think. Mige, let me suck you off the right way, the way you need it. Mige, I know how to do it, I can, just relax, I..."
No chick had ever undid his belt and took his unconvincing dick into her mouth. Well... It really was unconvincing, he was told a number of times that he was small, and still, none of his girlfriends had ever took the whole of his shaft inside her mouth at once. To put it in layman's terms, Mige was simply blown away. Not that he didn't like it, it was just that he had never allowed himself to think about his friend in such an unbridled way. He couldn't even have imagined that something like that would ever happen to him. And although he was secretly cherishing a thrilling thought that it would happen one day, he had never imagined that Ville would be the one to do it to him.
He would have been better off not seeing or hearing what was happening between them at the moment. Mige felt that his eyes were about to fall out of their sockets, when he heard the unique sound of inability to breathe and the groan of the highest pleasure intertwine in his best friend's moan, as he took Mige's dick deep inside his throat once again.
'Who are you, Entity?' Mige asked him.
'I am Ville,' Ville replied, slowly and unwillingly taking Mige's manhood out of his mouth. Slowly releasing his hard dick with a slippery sound. But he said it in a very serious tone, because Mige's concern was obvious. 'Oh for fuck's sake,' he grabbed Mige by the wrists and vigorously took his dick deep inside his mouth. "Screw you, you fucking idiot, but that felt good" that was the only thing that his brain could register at the moment.
'You're not gonna fool me on this one, I've done my reading, you're a fucking succubus,' Mige said. And why fucking not? He was in a proper state of shock.
'Incubus,' Ville corrected him. He slowly ran his tongue over his lips and just as slowly spat on Mige's dick, watching enchantedly at the saliva running down his friend's stiff cock. He helped it with his hand, spreading it over the length, up and down, gazing at Mige from under his eyebrows... Mige, however, gritted his teeth and was avoiding Ville's glance. Ville spat on his dick once again, and took it into his hand, making Mige arch his back and thrust his hips into Ville's fist.
'I don't fucking care,' Mige said.
'Cum into my mouth,' Ville said. 'Please. I need it. I need it really bad.'
And then something suddenly touched Mige's brain. Ville's intentions finally became clear to him, together with the fact that he didn't have any plan "B", and then... And then it became a matter of a completely different nature, which is hard to put in the words of the amourous poetry known to the human kind. Let's just say that his friend blew his mind, and now Mige had to make him... Feel the same.
'No,' he said all of a sudden.
He roughly pushed Ville away, making him lie face down on the bed, damn it, he didn't really know yet what was going on, and how he was supposed to behave. He just yanked Ville's chin up, laying himself down on top of him.
'Mige?' Ville asked him.
Mige didn't say a word, he just slid down Ville's body, spreading apart Ville's thighs and his coveted to the point of deranged mental frenzy buns, to stick his tongue somewhere, where Ville, a priori, probably never imagined he would.
Again and again – Mige's tongue there.
He didn't even let Ville suck him off, he just started licking him in between his buns.
In the most unbridled dreams of his, Ville had never seen that coming.
But he wished he could see that now.
He was still a little shocked, and then he bellowed like an animal because he was lying face down across his bed, with his legs spread wide apart, and Mige was franticly licking his ass, as if there was no tomorrow. He was just howling, and he was ready to come right then and there, because each following movement of Mige's tongue was promising to get him off. Just as Mige couldn't understand what made Ville go down on him and deep throat him and slurp him like a complete fucking whore, the very same way Ville couldn't understand how Mige's tongue all of a sudden appeared in a spot, which barely held any special intimate meaning to anyone until that moment. Ville didn't even know that such a thing was possible. Mige spread his buns apart and was licking his ass with the tenacity of a mechanical device.
Ville must have reached an orgasm at that very moment, howling out loud in the process, and Mige, too, must have reached the point of no return, and thoughtfully said the eternal phrase:
Ha, well, of course, at that point, while Ville was pouring out with semen over his bed, he couldn't help but remember the many hours of anal intercourse with Hiili. He didn't mention it aloud of course, but he suddenly got an urge for Mige to fuck him as lingeringly and perfectly as Hiili did.
So he would stand in a knee-elbow position, his face burrowed into the floor, oozing with precum from the mere fact that he was being cynically fucked. Why, it wasn't so bad, he had been doing it for more than six months. He knew how to suck, he knew how to give his ass. He knew how to enjoy the mechanical stimulation of his own prostate, and apart from that, he was getting a twisted kind of kick out of the fact that he was just giving his ass, no emotional strings attached.
Tentatively speaking, he had nothing to lose. Mige's dick was pretty small, but in terms of anal sex it was obviously rather an advantage than a disadvantage, especially considering the fact that Ville didn't have that much experience in that sense. Technically, he had given his ass to Hiili only a couple of times, because the first time it all went wrong and nothing happened at all.
What got him like a pile of hash was the way Mige sharply and rigidly flipped him onto his back when he tried to suck his dick, and the way he unexpectedly shoved his tongue somewhere, where even Hiili hadn't. Hiili had been doing some weird routine with his fingers and saliva to prepare him, and it didn't hurt too much. Well, of course it did hurt, and Ville couldn't quite understand why the fuck anyone would willingly engage into something like that. There were a lot of physiological activities in the world, which Ville wanted to try, but that obscure torture definitely wasn't one of those. But that night Ville remembered the exact moment when he was bellowing like a wild beast when Mige shoved his tongue somewhere, where Ville's girlfriend would never dare to. He did that to her, and even more than once, but she – would never. He just died at that moment, he just didn't know what it felt like... He didn't know what it was, he didn't really want to put himself into a role of a female, especially after Mige sort of started to respect him as a male. But damn it, at that point he desired nothing but to be a creature at full disposal of that fucking tongue.
He screamed and moaned, he just didn't know it could be that way, he never imagined that his friend would be the one to teach him that. Well, in the end, he gave himself to Mige the way he would probably never give himself to anyone.
He would never let Hiili take him the way Mige was taking him, while he was lying like a car in the ditch – wheels up. It was difficult to explain why it was a big no-no for him. He just didn't want to see Hiili's face in the process. He liked the fact that Hiili was something like a living dildo for masturbation to him. You surely don't want to get into a confiding romantic relationship with your dildo. He liked... He was even getting turned on by the fact that it was nothing but pure sex, pure stimulation of erogenous zones, and nothing more. Hiili's inspired face or (God forbid!) tenderness would've ruined all the excitement for him and would've spoilt all the buzz. Although, in all fairness, he had to admit that Hiili was a professional and was good at doing his job. And Ville loved him for that, in his own twisted kind of way.
But that day.
Fucking hell, that day he was squirming and arching his back under Mige, who was banging him in the good old missionary position, if that term could be attributed to anal sex, but their mutual fancy was enough to do so. Mige was fucking him the way he would have fucked his girlfriend.
Ahem. Not that Ville in all seriousness wanted to be Mige's girlfriend, of course not. Not in the least. He didn't want to be to Mige anyone but a friend, but it was something so very intimate that he wasn't sure he would ever let any other man take him that way. Mige was lying on Ville's belly and was banging his supple ass, nibbling on his knee from time to time and ardently shoving his tongue almost down his throat.
'Aaaaaaaaaah,' Ville moaned and threw his arms up, desperately gasping for air as if he was having another attack of his dear asthma. His lips took Mige's lips.
'I love the way you moan.'
Holy fuck! He would've cum ages ago if it wasn't for Mige's face over him. If it wasn't for their kiss, if it wasn't for the fact that Mige had licked his knee before kissing him.
Oh damn, he was so turned on that he didn't even want to cum anymore, he was just getting a hell of a kick out of the way Mige was fucking him like something incredibly near and dear to him, Ville was ready to cum time after time just to enjoy that fucking over and over again. Ville never imagined that the missionary position could bring so much joy.
The devil only knows how many times they had fucked that day. They stopped counting. They fell asleep out of exhaustion, then they woke up and opened a bottle of wine, which Ville found on the occasion, but the wine only gave them enough energy to make out for a while and go back to sleep once again. They woke up in the evening.
They lit up a joint and reclined thoughtfully on Ville's mattress. They didn't even talk. Well, and what the hell was there to talk about? The delicious languor of the evening was thick in the air.
The doorbell rang.
'SUCK A COCKIE, WILL YA!!!' Ville boomed merrily, while smoking lazily in Mige's cosy embrace.
'It's me, Hiili,' the visitor bleated hesitantly from behind the door.
'Lo and behold,' Ville said somehow indifferently. In fact, he didn't fucking care. Fucking with Mige left him surprisingly relaxed. He felt as if he had swallowed a pack of Dimedrol. At that moment, he would've been perfectly calm and well even if a heard of dinosaurs had been dancing Letkajenkka in the middle of his apartment to the accompaniment of Sibelius.
'Ville, open the door, we agreed that I would come around on Tuesday night.'
'Something put it out of my head it seems,' Ville said quietly to Mige. He stood up silently and scratched the back of his head, thinking that it would be nice to at least cover his balls with something, but his and Mige's clothes were scattered around the room in an especially surreal way, and Hiili kept ringing that bell like a madman. Ville shuffled barefoot into the hallway and opened the door.
'Hello, Hiili,' Ville said.
'Wow,' Hiili said, 'Hello, love.'
He put his arms around Ville's waist, pulling his naked body closer to him, and gave him a deep passionate kiss on the mouth.
Mige didn't see it, but he heard everything he needed to hear.
'And I thought that it was our fucking supernatural talent that got us the record deal. Escándalo,' He boomed from the bedroom, reclining on the bed in the pose of Danae, with his dick hanging from a side.
Ville giggled cheerfully, entering the bedroom.
Hiili walked in after him with a plastic bag in his hands and a slight bewilderment on his face.
'Well, come on in, mate,' Mige said, covering up his loins with a bedsheet and sitting up on the mattress. 'Make yourself at home, since you've decided to join our little party.'
'I'll be right back,' Ville said.
'Want some?' Mige offered Hiili a spliff.
'What's that smell?' Hiili asked him, looking around the room.
'You don't want to provoke his sense of humour on this one,' Mige pointed with his chin at Ville, whose back was disappearing behind the bathroom door. 'Or else he will tell you everything. In details. You're not gonna like it.'
'And what's that?' Hiili glanced at the fag in Mige's hand. 'Weed?'
'Good stuff, got it from Holland,' Mige said proudly. 'Strong shit.'
'We-e-e-ell,' Hiili drawled. He looked around for a place to sit, and decided to settle with the floor. The plastic bag in his hands made an inviting tinkling sound. 'I guess that's an option.'
'Oh, you brought the bevvies,' Mige exclaimed excitedly. 'Hey... VILLE!'
'Wazzup?' Ville said, walking out of the bathroom in his full mess kit, as in, wearing a pair of boxers.
'Bro, grab some glassware, it's our lucky day today, we've got some liquid happiness over here.'
'Uno momento,' Ville said.
Hiili and Mige were slowly and thoughtfully puffing on a shared spliff, while Ville was rattling with the dishes in the kitchen. Either the weed was playing its part, or it was for Mige's relaxed behaviour, but Hiili's jaw finally unclenched a little. For the first time in his life he was really glad that he was a civilised man, a European, and, for the lack of a better word, a Finn. Because he suddenly realised, that a couple of minutes ago stabbing Ville with anything even remotely sharp felt like a bloody good idea.
'Here,' Ville said proudly, returning from the kitchen fifteen minutes later, and bringing with him a wooden cup that looked more like a pencil holder, a coffee cup with a fancy curved handle, and a saucer. 'Nothing else was clean,' He explained (as if they didn't realize it) and sat down on the mattress next to Mige. Hiili crossed his legs, opened the bottle of vodka, and pensively poured its contents into... the glassware.
'So what's the occasion?' He asked them.
'The Advent of the Era of Celibacy for me,' Ville said in a sad voice. In a really sad voice. He poured his whole soul into his naturally rich with intonations baritone. He barely refrained from crying out of pity for himself at the sound of that phrase.
'And the two of you are naked because?..' Ville's charms seemed to had lost their power over Hiili. At least, that phrase of his didn't seem to impress Hiili in the slightest.
'It's a Symbol,' Mige said very seriously. 'The Symbol of Chastity and Purity of our relationship.'
'Indeed,' Ville said. He leaned down, and slowly and very voluptuously licked Mige's thigh, maintaining the eye contact with Hiili. Hiili gritted his teeth.
'Who are you, Creature?' He frankly put all of his thoughts into that short rhetoric question to Ville.
'Bags I take the saucer,' Mige said calmly, wrapping the sheet around him into something resembling a Greek toga.
'I am Pan ! Io Pan ! Io Pan Pan ! Pan !
'Did you come up with that doggerel by yourself?' Hiili specified in an overly carrying voice. 'Just so I know what to prepare myself for.'
'Ha-ha-ha-ha,' Ville said, 'No, I didn't.'
'That's good old Crowley for you, mate. Here's to you, brother Hiili, brother Ville...' Mige said, loudly slurping down the koskenkorva out of the saucer. 'Mmm, tasty.'
'By the way, Hiili, did you know that Satan and Dionysus are the same thing? Bacchus, Pan, those are just different names of our Lord Downstairs,' Ville gulped down the contents of the coffee cup with a shudder and a wince. 'Fuck me sideways, a Heavenly Manna, the tears of the Virgin Mary,' he said with tears running down his cheeks. 'I'm weeping out of joy,' he explained, wiping the tears away.
'Ville, my dear Ville, there's so much stuff I didn't know about until this day,' Hiili poured the contents of the wooden pen holder down his throat. 'I daresay, this Apocalypse of Villevalo The Revelator would have left a much bigger impression on me, if you had told it to me a couple of days earlier.'
'Is he your lover or something?' Mige asked Ville simply, while he was trying to get rid of the taste of the koskenkorva by smoking a sweet-smelling cigarette.
'I am,' Hiili said.
'He was,' Ville said. 'But then we broke up when I started dating Susanna. Because I never cheat on people.'
Mige rubbed his face thoughtfully.
'Can't really nit-pick such a logic, can you?' He complimented Ville.
'Ingenious son of a bitch,' Hiili said, filling up the containers once again. They were purposely talking about Ville as if he wasn't there, to force some kind of excuse out of him, but Ville was blatantly pretending that he didn't understand their intentions. And that nothing happened at all. He withstood the attack of two men with a truly royal endurance, he didn't even ask his usual "What?" when the two of them fixed their gaze on him. Although after two minutes of that stare fest he started examining his boogers with a look of a true explorer, hoping that the two men would break down first. Ville knew perfectly well that they were looking at him, and still, not a single muscle moved on his face. Mige failed to keep the straight face any longer and chuckled. The pause, however, had dragged for too long, so Mige continued the conversation:
'So you came here all like "Is there really no chance to start once again?.." And here I am.'
'And here you are,' Hiili agreed.
'Don't you feel ashamed, you demon?' Mige asked Ville tenderly.
'I regret nothing,' Ville said seriously.
'Well then... Bottoms up, fellas,' Mige, who was playing the role of the Incumbent Of Pan on their Feast of Life, proposed the toast.
They didn't bring up the subject after that. They talked a little about the album. Then they listened to some reggae, because Ville persuaded them to do so. Then Ville told them that they had to perform a ritual group act of worship to Black Sabbath, because Ozzy's voice was commanding him to surrender to his will. Then they sang along to KISS. And then they ran out of vodka.
It was late in the night, and all the shops were closed. Hiili remembered that he had a friend, who could fetch them some coke.
'Look who's been playing the v-card all along!' Mige marvelled.
'Just like your fucking demon,' Hiili lisped mockingly, pointing at Valo with a gloomy look on his face.
'But I wasn't playing anything!' Ville exclaimed indignantly.
'Ohreally,' Hiili said.
'I couldn't get any action going,' Ville said. 'I'm not lying, tell him, Mize...'
'And what about that broad? I remember you telling me a fascinating erotic story about you barfing on her.'
'Oh, come on, how the hell was I supposed to come anywhere near her after that?' Ville answered Mige's question with a question.
'Well, you know, Hiili, even if he was dripping with all burning sexuality, he was doing it very privately. Add to that the fact that he was shit faced most of the time.'
'So what if I am shit faced?' Ville wondered. 'I'm shit faced at this very moment. You and I, Mige, we've been shit faced for two days now. And unless I'm terribly mistaken it didn't stop you from...'
'What I did was an act of mercy,' Mige cut him off. 'For myself, above all.'
'For yourself?' Ville asked in disbelief.
'Of course. You would've scooped my brains out with a tea spoon, unless someone had fucked you. I've known you forever, I know every single word that's going to come out of your mouth before you even say it. Now, for example, you will say, "you know my ass!"
'You know my ass!' Ville said.
Hiili broke into a giggle.
'You would've gotten all grumpy, bitchy, and whiny,' Mige continued. 'I couldn't take it anymore, my brain was already dripping out of my ears from listening to all your whining "Oh I'm probably gonna die, oh I need to call her". You know you just can't stop when it comes to wallowing in self-pity.'
'I can't,' Ville agreed. 'Did I call her?'
'No, your mouth was busy,' Mige said.
'That's good,' Ville said.
'I had no idea that I could save myself the bother by calling Hiili. If only I had known that I could call him, I would definitely have done that. Hiili, trust me, mate...'
'You fucking immoral bastards,' Hiili said in a miserable voice. 'The two of you, you're fucking immoral bastards.'
Then Hiili's friend came and brought them a couple of bags of powdery happiness.
Later on, when Ville was analysing the events of that evening, he found it rather hard to determinate the exact moment when he had made the fatal mistake. It's really hard to tell the exact point of no return when you had been drinking vodka, smoking weed for the past two days and then decided to sniff in a road or two. That kind of a complex situation, when it's hard to pinpoint, which one of those actions became the last straw that broke the camel's back, so to speak.
Ville thought that he had quietly and peacefully passed out, and nothing else had happened afterwards, so he didn't believe what Mige told him at first. He thought that his friend was yammering some of his psychedelic bullshit as usual. But at some point he broke into cold sweat, as he realised that everything that Mige was telling him was true, because he started to get some flash backs of those events in his memory.
In the end, Mige enlightened him a little about the ending of their languorous evening. According to him, Ville had stated that the fucking coke didn't get him at all, and that it must have been cut with some bullshit crap. Then they convinced Hiili that the two of them were Warlocks of the Secret Masonic Order of the Twilight Goat, and that they are going to kill him, if he ever dares to mention that to anyone. The joke seemed hilarious to both of them. But Hiili started crying for some reason.
They told him that the only way to save him was to perform the rite of the Star Nephrite on him.
'The Nephrite?' Ville asked Mige in a weak voice. 'Did I actually mention Nephrite around you?'
'Yes,' Mige snapped. 'Sure enough, I couldn't help but instantly remember some of the Urinic Practices.'
'The Uranic Practices, dumbass. They are dedicated to the goddess Urania.'
'Fuck, you know I always get those two mixed up, I thought you were talking about the Urinic ones,' Mige said guiltily. 'Well, you should've been more precise. It got me so excited.'
'So, what you're trying to say is: you peed on him.'
'No-no, WE peed on him,' Mige specified calmly. 'We covered him in piss. Ritually. Urinicly.'
Ville's shoulders started shaking with laughter:
'Fucking hell. How am I supposed to look him in the eyes after that?'
'Oh don't worry, dear. You have already looked in the ultimate eye of him yesterday, if you know what I mean. I suppose you didn't see that coming either, did you? And by "looking" I don't mean that you were just enjoying the view.'
'Wait-wait-wait, what the fuck are you talking about?'
'You see, originally you said... Not that I didn't like the idea, but you were so obsessed with it, it caught me by surprise...'
'For fuck's sake, spit it out.'
'You said that your Lord Satan is ordering you to blow him.'
'Wait, what? What did my Lord Satan order me? I? Had to blow Hiili?'
'No, that was a quote of the direct speech. So it's like... Hiili had to blow me.'
'Thank you, Satan,' Ville said. 'From the bottom of my heart, thank you. You're the real bro, bro. So I decided that Hiili had to give you a blow job?'
'Exactly. You're such a sweetheart when you're drunk and stoned, I had no idea.'
'Me neither,' Ville snapped. 'So what happened next?'
'You told him that he had to dress up beforehand. We gave him my cowboy hat, you know, the one that you gave me for my birthday, and your ex-girlfriend's bra, which she left behind, when she was leaving.'
'I always knew I had that He-Man potential in me.'
'Indeed,' Mige nodded. 'You wanted to finish up the look with the stockings, but we didn't find any.'
'Good, Ville said. 'That's very good.'
'And then you told me to lie down and ordered him to get on all four over me and blow me that way.'
'Mige, it's painful.'
'And after that you shoved your dick up his ass. You told him that it was a crucial part of the initiation ceremony, which he had to go through in order to become the Initiate of the Twilight Goat Order.'
'I fucked Hiili?' Ville gazed at Mige in surprise.
'Hell yeah you did.'
'How well did I perform?'
'He was begging for more like a bitch,' Mige replied readily.
'Thank you. Thank you, my dear friend. But the story doesn't end there, does it?'
'Well, we came all over his face, and his hair, and his whiskers. And then he went to take a shower.'
'Oh, that's nice.'
'The shower thing, that was a good call. I was afraid my room's gonna reek of donkey piss. I'm allergic, you know.'
'So yeah, we took turns in banging him, and then we decided that he deserves a treat, since he was such a good bitch for us and served us so well. So we peed him in the mouth.'
'Oh shut up.'
'I can't, you asked for it. By the way, he was totally down for it. He kept saying "Oh yeah, admit me to the Order of the Twilight Goat."
'Damn it, now I feel ashamed. Kill me, Mige. He was right, we really are immoral bastards.'
'No, Mige said. 'That's for the first part of the question. And as for the second one – yes, we are, indeed.'
Ville fell back on the bed. His head felt heavy and was clearly not ready to meet the new day, and besides, something was telling him that he was still drunk and stoned from yesterday, because he simply felt good and didn't give a shit about anything.
'The gods withdraw:
Ville said in the words of Crowley. He just had to. He couldn't resist the temptation. Mige loved when he was reciting poetry to him.
They were lying naked on a mattress under the same blanket; Hiili was softly snoring on the couch in the living room. That was a good sign. At least that way they knew for sure that he was alive.
'Oh, I see what you did there. I don't know what's so special about you,' Mige said affectionately, embracing Ville and holding him tightly. 'But I guess from now on I'll never be able to keep a straight face when hearing the phrase "death on the horn of the Unicorn". It's like I've only just come to know Crowley for the first time.'
'You've come to know him in the biblical sense, you mean,' Ville added and landed a smooch on Mige's shoulder, turning in his embrace.
'Yeah, indeed,' Mige agreed. He tousled Ville's hair and gently pressed his lips against the guy's forehead. 'Exactly so. Hey, so speaking of knowing each other in the biblical sense, has it ever appeared to you the tree of WHAT that Tree of Knowledge had to be?'
'It has appeared to me now,' Ville said. 'So that makes it The Tree of Fucking, right? And how is The Tree of Fucking supposed to look like, I wonder? Like a giant wooden dick, or something?'
'How did it go? The Serpent was tempting Eve to taste The Forbidden Fruit from the Tree of Knowledge...'
'And The Fruit looked like a dick.'
'Well, no, I mean, if we put it in a less literal sense, may be he, that very Serpent... The serpent by itself is a common phallic symbol, you see.'
'So, do you mean he was persuading Eve to give him a head?' Ville specified.
'Well, I suppose so,' Mige nodded. 'And then...'
'He shoved his dick into Adam's mouth?' Ville asked.
'Your head is full of dicks,' Mige reproached him. 'Eve was the one to offer him The Fruit, therefore, maybe she was hinting on cunnilingus?'
'Technically, I do NOT have a single dick inside of my head at the moment,' Ville corrected him serenely. 'Yeah, you're probably right about Eve.'
'I... it was a figure of speech,' Mige said. 'But if that's an invitation, then I'm pretty much mentally ready for you to taste my Fruit of Knowledge.'
'So the bottom line is...' Ville raised himself on his elbows. 'Turns out, we've just discovered the Sacred Truth of Creation. The Windows of Heaven have opened and the Heaven itself went ablaze! We've discovered The Truth, which isn't worth a brass farthing. The Ultimate Source and Origin of all existing Evil lies in Sex. Or, poetically put – in Love. As if we didn't already know that.'
'Basically, turns out that Love is that very Devil!'
'Have you changed your mind about giving me a head, or something?' Mige asked him tactfully.
'No,' Ville said thoughtfully, 'No-no-no. But what a fascinating idea: "Love is the Devil". Don't you think? By the way, speaking of Love. I wonder if Hiili remembers anything from yesterday.'
'Nah,' Mige assured him. 'That’s unlikely. He was even in the worse state than you were, because in the end, he was the one, who ended up covered in piss, and not you.'
'Seems legit,' Ville said. 'But... but we'll remind him, won't we?' He added with a devilish spark in his eyes.
'You know, dude,' Mige said. 'Sometimes my Love for you ascends beyond the cosmic heights and covers with its wave the constellation of Pleiades. And sometimes, at the moments like this one, I even come to understand why.'
'One could die on the horn of the Unicorn for such a Love. So how's your horn?' Ville inquired affably and politely.
Strange or natural?
But after the incident Ville somehow felt significantly easier in the sense of his angst towards Mige. All of a sudden, he no longer had to keep his desire under wraps, and the epic mischief, which they did together, brought them closer in general. As friends, not as lovers. Good God, none of them was experienced enough in the sense of amorous matters for the experience to bring them closer as lovers.
The next day they were hanging in the kitchen when they woke up. Ville was having a good old “coffee and cigarettes” kind of breakfast, barely managing to hold the fag with his shaking fingers, and was trying to squeeze at least a one single drop of beer out of the raw of empty cans, scattered all over the table. Meanwhile, Mige was concentrated on making a slightly more nutritious breakfast – he made some toasts and at the moment was thoughtfully meditating over the inhospitable contents of Ville’s fridge. He didn’t know about the other two, but he was starving.
‘Good morning!’ Hiili walked into the kitchen, dressed in a silk Japanese robe, which once belonged to Ville’s girlfriend. Ville, who was sitting on a chair in his boxers, resting his chin on his knee, took a drag and cackled gleefully. There was something epically perverse about the fact that his first lover was dressed that way for the breakfast, which was cooked by the incarnated and therefore oblivious to the need to cover his hairy ass with the earthly garments Pan, whom his dear friend Mige was embodying.
‘Hello, dear,’ Ville said and even kissed Hiili on the forehead, without letting the cigarette out of his hands or changing his position. ‘Want some coffee?’ he offered Hiili his cup.
‘Thanks, love,’ said Hiili, taking the cup.
Thank God, Hiili didn’t hold the grudge against them. By the way, it’s crazy to think what just one stupid reckless trick of yours can do at times. Ville liked the incredible dedication, which Hiili showed at serving him, them, and the great purpose of reckless abandon in general. Frankly, something even moved in Ville’s heart for him.
Mige later said that it was just a Sacrament of sorts.
Even though Ville's obsession hadn't passed completely, it lessened significantly. Mige began to seem a bit more down-to-earth, and what comes to Hiili, he realized that the man was looking for warmth, just like himself. Ville even began to feel ashamed. Terribly ashamed. For all that time, when he did not feel anything for him.
‘By the way, I’ve found my and Lily’s outfits,’ Mige said. ‘Two silk cassocks, we can wear those. Do they have a Bible in here? Are we going to pee on the Bible?’
‘Well, hello, Zoltie,’ Ville said tenderly, turning around in Bam’s embrace. ‘Hello, my dear.’
What was Brandon Cole Margera’s idea of a perfect morning?
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