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Don't Close Your Eyes	By : TaimaMarie Category: Singers/Bands/Musicians > HIM Views: 3703 -:- 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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AN: Nkundra, I always say the same things about the doctors. HIMBAMCKY!!! I was wondering when you'd read this, my every precious one!
Also, as a small rant, I am in pain because my cartilage peircings seems to have had the skin grown over it. My mother has to push it out in the morning. I shall cry.

Ville decided on a nice pair of skintight black jeans, topped by a red button down shirt. He combed his hair a thousand times, fussing to get every hair in place. He contemplated calling Hayley to see what she thought, but he knew what her wardrobe choice would consist of in this circumstance.

A condom, a tube of lube, some fishnets, a short skirt and a pair of heels. She’d actually suggested it one day at the lunch table. Mige had had to help her wipe the apple sauce off her face. Ville had come very close to death that day, but the shocked look on
her face was worth it.

He’d made it up to her later with a Hershey’s with Almonds. Ville tapped the eyeliner against his palm as he contemplated his face in the mirror. What if the Margera’s were too straitlaced for that? What if they were homophobic? What if they didn’t like Finnish people?

What if they just plain didn’t like him?

“And what if the world ends in five seconds?” Hayley often
teased him, singing that at him when he turned into a worry wart.

It made him smile. Ville leaned towards the mirror and smoothed on the eyeliner. He fluffed his hair and tied on a black scarf around his neck. He might as well go in there being himself. There was no way he wanted to live a lie.

He pulled on some scuffed shoes and his look was complete.

“Look out, Margera’s, here I come.”

**

Bam sat on the couch, scowling. He was dressed in khaki pants and a white dress shirt. It hadn’t been his choice, Ape had insisted. She had insisted on this whole damn dinner. He would have been happy to continue on his current pouting strike, hiding in his room with his computer.

This was the first time he’d come out of his room since he got home from the hospital. At first, Ape had been concerned, left him sandwiches on a tray outside his door. He’d though maybe he could make her change her mind, but this evening…

She’d burst into his room.

“That boy busted his ass to take you to the hospital. The least you could do is get down there and look grateful!” she thundered. Phil hovered anxiously in the doorway.

“Fuck you!” Bam cursed. “You don’t get to tell me what to do anymore!”

“Don’t you talk to me like that!” April screamed. Phil cringed, even though he had nothing to do with it. April pulled her had back, but the look on her son’s face stopped her.

She’d never struck him before. The hand wilted down to her side.

“Calm down, Ape.” Phil said soothingly.

“Listen, Bam, I know you’re mad at us right now. I don’t pretend you don’t have a reason or a right to be. All I’m asking is for you to end this cold war and come downstairs for one night. Then you can go back to sulking up here in your room, okay?” April said through clenched teeth.

“Fine,” Bam gave in. It was easier than a fight. Besides, he knew she was making some extra special for that dude who’d ridden with him to the hospital. Bam didn’t have a clue who it was.

The only thing he remembered about the ambulance ride, if he tried hard enough, was green eyes. The most beautiful eyes he’d ever seen. They were feminine, and they seemed to peer right into his soul.

Bam figured that must have been one of the EMT’s.

So there he was, sitting on the couch, dressed nicely.
He’d wanted to wear his jeans and a hoodie, but oh no. Ape the Bitch Queen had put an instant stop to that. He scowled as he though how much more comfortable those jeans were.

There was a hesitant knock on the door.

Bam trudged over and opened it.

There were those eyes, staring back at him, wide and ringed with eyeliner.

And though the face they went with was quiet beautiful, and though the body that belonged to the face was one of the best Bam had ever seen… It was still a guy. Albeit a guy wearing a black sheer scarf, but still, a guy.

He felt his heart drop into his stomach.

“Is this the Margera household?” the gorgeous boy asked shyly. Bam nodded silently and stepped back. Once the boy was inside, he closed the door. They stood awkwardly in the foyer, shifting their weight from foot to foot.
“Are you feeling better?” the pretty boy blurted. Bam nodded, again silently.

“APE! APE!” he shouted. “Your company is here!”

“He’s OUR company, Brandon!” April shouted back. “And don’t you forget it. Now offer him a place to sit and something to drink.”

“You can sit in the living room.” Bam mumbled. “You want like, a Coke or something?”

“Coke is fine,” the green eyed wonder said softly. He drifted to sit on the couch. Bam noticed then that he was holding a wrapped package on his lap. He was immediately interested.

“Ooh, what’cha got?” he sat close to the boy. Before he could answer, Bam snatched the box and shook it gently.
“Mmm, nothing heavy. Nothing breakable. What is it? What is it?” he demanded. The boy seemed overwhelmed.

“Something that might not actually be for you, greedy.” April walked in, holding two cans of Coke. She handed one to each of the boys.
“Be nice to him.”

“I’m being nice! Didn’t you see me making conversation just now?” Bam seemed indignant.

“It’s actually a present for you, Mrs. Margera. My mom
said you never go to dinner without bringing a present.” the green eyed boy said shyly. Bam made a face. “But there’s another one inside for Bam.” He finished.

“Oh really? I love presents!” Bam seemed like a kid on Christmas. April sat down and peeled off the paper. She opened the box and handed the smaller one to her son and smiled at Ville.

“This is lovely!” she held up a white silk scarf, printed with flowers. She wrapped it once around her neck.
“Whatever made you think of it?”

“My mom has one like it.” Ville confessed. “And she just loves it. She said every woman should have a pretty scarf to wear. So I thought you might… like it.” He trailed off. April beamed.

“Aren’t you the sweetest thing?”

Bam had ripped into the box. He pulled out a chrome chain with a metal dog tag dangling from it. He read the engraving on it.

Bam Margera, number thirty four. The number from his jersey. He felt a tightness in his throat.

“It’s um.. It’s really nice. Thank you.” He didn’t look into those green, green eyes.

“You don’t like it.” Ville frowned.

“No, I do. I do.” For some reason, he didn’t want Ville to feel upset at all. He dropped the chain over his head.
“See? It’s nice. You even remembered my hockey number.”

April cleared her throat. She looked apologetically at Bam.

“Dinner isn’t quite ready.” She announced. “But maybe Bam will show you his room?”

“Sure,” Bam rose. “Come on.” He felt the cold weight of the dog tags around his neck. As Ville followed him up the stairs, he decided he liked the way the felt. At least green eyes had thought of him at all.

He opened the door to display his room; floor strewn with clothes clean and dirty, posters of rock stars and hockey legends beaming down at them. A computer glowed in the corner. Ville couldn’t even count four books. There was, however, a stereo, TV, and DVD player in another corner, along with a collection of DVDs.

“This is my room.” Bam said proudly.

“It’s very nice,” Ville cleared his throat. Bam flopped onto the unmade bed and watched as Ville wandered over to examine his DVDs.

“You’re one of the figure skating f—boys, aren’t you?” he’d almost said ‘fags’ but stopped himself just in time. Ape would be proud.

“I am. I’m Ville Valo.” Ville nodded.

“How come?”

“How come what?” Ville looked over his shoulder.

“You figure skate but don’t play hockey?” Bam sat up.

“Because I think figure skating is more about grace and movement. It’s like dancing on ice. Hockey is about winning. When I’m out on the ice, I don’t care about winning, I care about being as beautiful as I can with my body.” He felt the flush rise up on
his cheeks. Bam said nothing.

“Hockey isn’t just about winning.” He mumbled. “It’s about the game. It’s about doing the best you can for the team.”

“Which leads to winning, doesn’t it?” Ville sat back on his heels.

“Not always!” Bam protested. “It’s about doing the best you can as a team. All together. There is no one player out there. When you’re out there in your jerseys, you lose your identity as one player. You’re just part of a team, part of one big thing.”

“Maybe that’s my problem.” Ville stretched his arms above his head. “I want attention. I want all eyes on my when I’m out there moving on the ice. Besides, I don’t care for all the blood and violence associated with hockey.”

“What blood and violence?” Bam demanded.

“Oh please! When’s the last time you were in a game that didn’t end up in a fight?” Ville snorted. Bam said nothing.
“Besides, didn’t you JUST have an accident?” again, Bam could say nothing.

There was an awkward silence for a few minutes.

“Boys! Dinner!” April called.

“Thank God,” they both whispered as they made their way downstairs.
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Don't Close Your Eyes