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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
- 3
- 4
- 5
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.
"Ville…"
"Oi."
"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 in their containers, 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 neither 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 container. 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 into his container 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!"
Oh, Lord.
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.
"Ha.Ha.Ha."
"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." 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."
Fucker.
"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 in his container 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 container.
"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."
***
In Barcelona, they got off the bus and headed to the hotel, ever so desired for its simple conveniences, especially now. Ville got a phone call and parted himself from the other guys. He was walking in circles, giggling and covering his face with his hands and just did not seem to get enough of the conversation. Only after about half an hour, he joined Mige, who was smoking and waiting for him near the entrance to the hotel.
"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…"
Ville giggled:
"I hope you don't mind if I don't kiss you for that, I have a two-day boner already."
"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.
"Why-y?"
"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?!"
"Yours?!"
"My instrument."
"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.
"It's Bammie."
"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?"
"Yes."
"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."
"Why-y-y-y-y?!"
"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:
"Ville, tell me this one thing please, why exactly are you watching Gas's genitals?"
***
In fact, Mige knew it would happen.
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:
"You didn't think I'll let you go after this, did you?" He smirked into Ville's ear. "Although none of us is too good at thinking today."
"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.
Linde shouted with laughter. Gas did not get the whole depth of the joke, but joined him nevertheless and giggled as well.
"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.
"What?"
"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…"
***
The gig was over.
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 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.
"Yeah, Bam."
"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.
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Eros vs Thanatos: Whoever wins... We lose