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Eros vs Thanatos: Whoever wins... We lose	By : AnkhesenpaatenRa Category: Singers/Bands/Musicians > HIM Views: 1899 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction. I do not know the HIM band or any personalities mentioned personally, and I do not profit from these writings.

Chapter List
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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:
“Wi-illa-ah!”
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.
“Please, Bammy…”
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.
And cool.
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.
“What happened?”
“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.
“Wanna bet?”
“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:
“Ye-e-e-esssss!”
“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.
Fucking freaks.
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.
Ville snorted.
“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…”
“No way.”
“I said my best days… Or should I better say my worst days?”
Ville giggled.
“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.
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Eros vs Thanatos: Whoever wins... We lose