My first posted story!
Oct. 4th, 2005 01:01 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
interpol15Title: Failure to Communicate
Pairing: Vam (duh), hint of Dugera
Author:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
interpol15
Rating: PG-13 (I swear a lot, but no smut)
Summary: Bam and Ville get into a fight (how original, I know). Kinda AU.
Disclaimer: Not real, never happened. I’m just doing this because I’m a masochist.
Warnings: Mild angst, fluff
Author’s notes and junk: I always imagined these two having a fight and makeup, fight and makeup relationship, and thought I’d portray that. This is a fic inspired by a story I wrote for Creative Writing II, which in turn was inspired by Gravitation. Kinda AU, because of the setting and stuff. All non-canon-ness is chalked up to artistic license and divine author intervention.
Light slanted across the street, illuminating random passerby’s in the last fading rays of the cold winter day. Past the window and plain purple curtains of an apartment a voice rang out into the chilly air.
“Where the fuck have you been? It’s been over a week! No calls, no note, nothing. I can’t believe you, just leaving like that.” The voice could only belong to one person.
Bam looked up at the man leaning against the half wall in the kitchen. Ville faced him, brown curls hanging in his face, delicate hands clenched into tight fists. Bam reached up to grab his shoulders, only to have the movement be stopped by a hand the temperature of ice. Damn Finns.
“Shit Ville, you’re hurting me” The tone was shocked, accusing. Angry green eyes met equally angry blue ones.
Ville pulled his hand away, pushing the young man from his path as he stalked from the kitchen to the bedroom. Bam’s duffel bag skidded across the floor as Ville booted it from underneath his feet. Bam picked himself up from the floor, and yelled to the now shut bedroom door.
“What else was I supposed to do? You hardly even talk to me anymore, let alone anything else! I have no idea what you’re doing most of the day, and practically every night! All you care about is the fucking album! Hell, considering how much you’ve pushed me out of your life, you’re probably screwing Mige to make up for it!”
Nothing but silence came from beyond the door. Damn, he had hoped to hit a sore spot with the last remark.
Bam stormed to the stove, throwing open one of the cabinet doors above the sink. It crashed into another next to it, adding yet another dent from earlier rages. He clanged a pot down onto a burner, hurling noodles into it, splashing the water down the sides.
A glass found its way into the skaters’ hand, and he poured himself a shot of vodka, nose wrinkling slightly as it burned its way down his throat. Fucking Europeans and their extra-strong liquor.
The bedroom door loomed into Bam’s view. The vodka bottle landed onto the counter with a clink, and before he realized it, his hand was on the doorknob.
Ville sat on the bed, smoke curling up around his face, a small mound of spent buts already on the sheets. The springs sagged as Bam joined him on the bed, but Ville didn’t seem to register the presence of his boyfriend.
“Ville, what is with you? You didn’t act like this when I left two weeks ago, or the month before that.” Bam was surprised at how much his hand was trembling as he placed it on the singer’s shoulder.
“You didn’t go to Ryan’s those times either Bam” Ville shifted so that they were looking at each other, the hurt in his eyes plain to see.
“Ryan? You really thing that there’s something going on between us? Give me a break.” He rubbed at the bridge of his nose, feeling a headache coming on. “We haven’t done anything since high school, Willa. I can’t believe…you mean that you really thought we were…”
Ville stalled, taking in a deep breath of smoke. “I’m hardly ever here for you Bammie. I really wouldn’t have been surprised if you had found yourself a substitute or something.”
Bam wrapped his arms around Ville’s shoulders, using his warmth as a shield against the cold Helsinki air.
“You’re an idiot, Ville Hermanni Valo. I fucking love you, and you know that. Don’t you believe me anymore? I wouldn’t just go find someone else, even if you went on a world tour without me.” He slid off the bed, shuffling back into the kitchen to take care of dinner.
A hand on his side, and the warm delicate kisses on his neck, distracted Bam from the stove. Ville sighed into his hair, holding the younger man tightly, as if trying to retain of piece of Bam for himself.
“I guess we’re both just idiots, huh?” The low bass whispered into his ear, a weak grin plastered on his face.
His heart back where it belonged, and the pit in his stomach gone, Bam let out a laugh. “Well, maybe you are Willa. I’m only an idiot when there’s a camera around, unlike you.”
“Besides,” Ville eyed the pot on the stove, “if you left, who would cook for me?”
To all my friends, please read and review. Feedback is love, and you all are love. Thanks
Pairing: Vam (duh), hint of Dugera
Author:
interpol15Rating: PG-13 (I swear a lot, but no smut)
Summary: Bam and Ville get into a fight (how original, I know). Kinda AU.
Disclaimer: Not real, never happened. I’m just doing this because I’m a masochist.
Warnings: Mild angst, fluff
Author’s notes and junk: I always imagined these two having a fight and makeup, fight and makeup relationship, and thought I’d portray that. This is a fic inspired by a story I wrote for Creative Writing II, which in turn was inspired by Gravitation. Kinda AU, because of the setting and stuff. All non-canon-ness is chalked up to artistic license and divine author intervention.
Light slanted across the street, illuminating random passerby’s in the last fading rays of the cold winter day. Past the window and plain purple curtains of an apartment a voice rang out into the chilly air.
“Where the fuck have you been? It’s been over a week! No calls, no note, nothing. I can’t believe you, just leaving like that.” The voice could only belong to one person.
Bam looked up at the man leaning against the half wall in the kitchen. Ville faced him, brown curls hanging in his face, delicate hands clenched into tight fists. Bam reached up to grab his shoulders, only to have the movement be stopped by a hand the temperature of ice. Damn Finns.
“Shit Ville, you’re hurting me” The tone was shocked, accusing. Angry green eyes met equally angry blue ones.
Ville pulled his hand away, pushing the young man from his path as he stalked from the kitchen to the bedroom. Bam’s duffel bag skidded across the floor as Ville booted it from underneath his feet. Bam picked himself up from the floor, and yelled to the now shut bedroom door.
“What else was I supposed to do? You hardly even talk to me anymore, let alone anything else! I have no idea what you’re doing most of the day, and practically every night! All you care about is the fucking album! Hell, considering how much you’ve pushed me out of your life, you’re probably screwing Mige to make up for it!”
Nothing but silence came from beyond the door. Damn, he had hoped to hit a sore spot with the last remark.
Bam stormed to the stove, throwing open one of the cabinet doors above the sink. It crashed into another next to it, adding yet another dent from earlier rages. He clanged a pot down onto a burner, hurling noodles into it, splashing the water down the sides.
A glass found its way into the skaters’ hand, and he poured himself a shot of vodka, nose wrinkling slightly as it burned its way down his throat. Fucking Europeans and their extra-strong liquor.
The bedroom door loomed into Bam’s view. The vodka bottle landed onto the counter with a clink, and before he realized it, his hand was on the doorknob.
Ville sat on the bed, smoke curling up around his face, a small mound of spent buts already on the sheets. The springs sagged as Bam joined him on the bed, but Ville didn’t seem to register the presence of his boyfriend.
“Ville, what is with you? You didn’t act like this when I left two weeks ago, or the month before that.” Bam was surprised at how much his hand was trembling as he placed it on the singer’s shoulder.
“You didn’t go to Ryan’s those times either Bam” Ville shifted so that they were looking at each other, the hurt in his eyes plain to see.
“Ryan? You really thing that there’s something going on between us? Give me a break.” He rubbed at the bridge of his nose, feeling a headache coming on. “We haven’t done anything since high school, Willa. I can’t believe…you mean that you really thought we were…”
Ville stalled, taking in a deep breath of smoke. “I’m hardly ever here for you Bammie. I really wouldn’t have been surprised if you had found yourself a substitute or something.”
Bam wrapped his arms around Ville’s shoulders, using his warmth as a shield against the cold Helsinki air.
“You’re an idiot, Ville Hermanni Valo. I fucking love you, and you know that. Don’t you believe me anymore? I wouldn’t just go find someone else, even if you went on a world tour without me.” He slid off the bed, shuffling back into the kitchen to take care of dinner.
A hand on his side, and the warm delicate kisses on his neck, distracted Bam from the stove. Ville sighed into his hair, holding the younger man tightly, as if trying to retain of piece of Bam for himself.
“I guess we’re both just idiots, huh?” The low bass whispered into his ear, a weak grin plastered on his face.
His heart back where it belonged, and the pit in his stomach gone, Bam let out a laugh. “Well, maybe you are Willa. I’m only an idiot when there’s a camera around, unlike you.”
“Besides,” Ville eyed the pot on the stove, “if you left, who would cook for me?”
To all my friends, please read and review. Feedback is love, and you all are love. Thanks
