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More than a feeling	By : Alaine Category: Singers/Bands/Musicians > HIM Views: 1928 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction. I do not know the members of HIM. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
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It’s almost dawn, when Bam returns to his house. He is swaying lightly, unable to walk in a straight line and his eyes are glazed, making it difficult for him to see where he is going. This is, of course, because he has been drinking way too much.

Finally he makes it to the front door, and plunges a hand into the pocket of his waistcoat. A few minutes later, he is about ready to kick the door out of frustration. Grumbling, he forces his hand deeper in his pocket, twisting his fingers in strange positions, trying to find those goddamn keys.

Finally, after what seems like an eternity, his fingers touch cool metal. He sighs in relief; the keys. Quickly, he pulls them out of his pocket and inserts the key into the lock. He turns it, and opens the door. He blinks, trying to make his eyes adjust to the darkness.

That’s strange. All he can see is darkness. He walks into the living room, only to find more darkness. “Where’s Missy?” He thinks out loud. Sure, Missy liked to have early nights, but he doesn’t understand why she’s gone to bed this early.

“Missy?”

Only silence greets him.

“Missy! Where are you?”

Still, no one replies. He sighs and looks at the his watch. And freezes. 4.30. It’s 4.30 in the morning.

“Fuck,” he softly swears. “Fuck…”

He tries to remember the conversation he had with Missy before he left, but all he remembers is a cute guy, talking and flirting with him at the bar. They were both drunk, and somehow, the flirting ended up in something more. Bam closes his eyes and remembers;

“Hey, you new here? I haven’t seen you hear before,”

Bam kept his eyes downcast, not wanting to look up and see who was talking to him.

“Yes… I-I just-…”

Somehow, the words won’t come. A hand touched his shoulder, and his head jerked up at the touch. Icy, but friendly green eyes stared at him. He flinched back, realizing how close he was to the stranger. He registered with shock that the stranger is a man, and that he was still touching Bam’s shoulder.

Unwillingly, but still unable to resist, Bam’s eyes started to travel up and down the mans body. He seemed pretty young, in his early twenties. Slightly curly hair, just down to his shoulders. Sharp, angular and especially attractive features. Strong cheekbones and a beatific smile.
His gazes travelled lower, inspecting the strangers body. Tall and lean, slightly muscular, but still slender.

“Hey? Did you even hear what I said?”

A voice interrupted his thoughts, and his head swung up. The man was staring at him, seeming slightly amused. Bam shook his head.

“I asked what your name was.”

“Brandon- I mean Bam! Well, actually my name IS Brandon, but I prefer people to call me Bam. Only my mum calls me Bam when she’s angry, but I hate that-“

Bam stopped in the middle of his sentence, blushing, because he realized he was babbling. To his embarrassment, the stranger started laughing. After a few moments he stopped, and smiled at Bam friendly, showing a perfect row of white teeth.

“My name is Vincent. But just call me Vince. I hate it when people call me Vincent, especially when my mum does it, but only when she is angry with me.”

Bam just looked at him for a few moments, not knowing if he was joking or not, but grinned eventually.

“Well, sit down and have a drink…”

“… and- and then she looked at her hand, realizing she wasn’t bleeding, but she had ink all over her hand! I can still remember her face, mouth hanging open, eyes wide and bloodshot…”

Vincent snorted in his glass, causing bear to fly all around him.

“Hey, watch it will you?!” Bam grinned.

Vincent stopped laughing and stared at Bam. Bam stared back. Slowly, Vincent leaned forward. Bam closed his eyes and waited. Soft, hesitant lips found his. Vincent pressed his lips against Bam’s lips, his tongue sliding out, begging for entrance. Bam allowed him, and Vincent’s tongue slid smoothly in his mouth, tongue swirling and mapping every bit of Bam’s mouth. Bam moaned, and raised his hands to cup Vincents face. Vincents arms snaked around Bam’s waist, constricting him. Bam moved his hands down slowly stroking Vincents skin, from Vincent’s cheeks, down his neck and to his shoulders. Vincent tugged Bam with him, moving toward the exit of the bar. Once outside, he slammed Bam against the wall and leant in to Bam’s neck. He licked and nipped his way down, hands pinning Bam against the wall. Bam started moaning again, this time a name slipping out.

“Ville…”

Vincent stopped his licking and leant back, his beautiful face confused, puzzlement in his eyes.

“Bam? What did you just call me?”
Bam stared at him in shock. He didn’t do that. He didn’t’ call Vincent… Ville.

“N-nothing. I just moaned and your name slipped out,” he stuttered.

“I don’t believe you. You didn’t say my name. You said ‘Ville’.”

Bam closed his eyes and looked away. He couldn’t look at Vincent now. He felt a hand touch his shoulder. He looked up. Vincent’s face was smiling, but sadly. There was hurt in his eyes.

“Why didn’t you tell me that you were seeing someone?”

“I-I don’t know. I just didn’t want to tell you. I just… forgot.”

Vincent smiled softly and stepped back, allowing Bam some more space.

“Ok, no worries. If I’d known you were seeing someone, I wouldn’t have flirted with you. I’m going back inside, you coming?”

Bam looked at him, but said nothing.

“Just as friends,” Vincent hastily added, grinning.

Bam shook his head.

“No, I think I’ll be going home now. I’ll see you around … Vincent.”

Vincent leaned in and gave Bam a hug. When he released Bam, he winked.

“See you ‘round.”

Bam opens his eyes and found himself in the living room. He shakes his head, and looks at his watch. 5.00 am. He sighs, slowly turning around and walking towards the hallway. He walks up the stairs, careful to be quiet and not to wake Missy.

He sneaks into the bedroom, closing the door softly behind him and slips into bed. He hears Missy next to him and the next thing he feels was her arms coming around him, locking them together in an intimate embrace.

Bam sleeps with his eyes wide open that night.

When he finally does drop off, it is for about two hours. He wakes up with rays of sun shining in his face. He groans. He has a terrible hangover. After a few more minutes, he decides to get up. He walks downstairs and into the kitchen. Everything is spotless, as usual. Missy likes the house to be clean, and Bam is still, after a few months, having a hard time to adjust to her rules.

Come to think of it, it’s slightly strange that he hasn’t seen Missy yet. He glances at the clock. 10.30 AM. He frowns. Normally, Missy would be in the house at this time, doing chores or something like that. Maybe she’s off to see a friend. Bam nods. That’ll be it.

He opens the fridge, pulls out some orange juice and drinks it down, straight from the bottle, not bothering to take a glass. When he finished he throws the empty bottle into the bin and heads back upstairs.

On his way up, he glances in the mirror. He grins. His whole mouth is surrounded by the juice, dripping down his face. He makes a face and grins again. Then his grin fades, and he resumes his way.

After he took a shower, he throws on some clothes, not really bothering what. He heads back downstairs and glances at the clock. 11.00 AM. He frowns again. This is strange. Even if Missy is out, she could have called, couldn’t she? He walks into the kitchen again, and this time, he notices the envelope.

It’s a white envelope. His name is on it, written by Missy’s neat handwriting. A feeling of dread develops in his stomach, and he walks over to the envelope. Carefully, he picks it up an opens it.

“Bam,

I can’t take it anymore. I don’t know what to do about you. Especially after the conversation we had yesterday. Even then, you seemed gone. In your own world, not hearing a word I said.

I’ve decided that I am moving out. I’m not saying I’m gone permanently, but this is the best option I can think of. I haven’t and am not giving you my phone number. I will call you.

But before I go, I want to tell and ask you something,

Bam… I don’t know how to say this to you, but I found it. The box, hidden under our bed. When I opened it.. Well, I don’t really know what to say, except that it is unhealthy to have so many pictures of one person, Ville Valo in this situation. I don’t know why you keep so many pictures of him, and I don’t know if I want to know. Bam, are you trying to tell me something? Maybe.. that you love someone else.. that you love.. Ville. I think you do.

…

I feel so stupid I wrote that. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to pry, but it was just .. there. Look, I’ll call you later, right?

Just.. Take care Bam, and don’t do anything stupid,

Missy.”

Bam stares at the letter. She’s gone. And she found out. Bam puts the letter down and stares at it for a while. He closes his eyes, but the letters are still there, dancing before his eyes.

“I don’t know why you keep so many pictures of him … Bam, are you trying to tell me something?”

He picks up the letter, tears it pieces and throws it away. Then he walks out of the kitchen, up the stairs and to his bedroom. He closes the door and throws himself on the bed. He stares at the ceiling and stays there for the rest of the day.

Well, that was the second chapter! I hope it wasn’t too .. dramatic. Let me know what you think,

Alaine.
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More than a feeling