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Pretending	By : LittleMissDisaster Category: Singers/Bands/Musicians > HIM Views: 1478 -:- 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
- 1-Pretending
- 2-two
- 3-ch 3
- 4-ch 4
- 5-ch 5
- 6-ch 6
- 7-ch 7
- 8-ch 8
- 9-ch 9
- 10-10
- 11-11
- 12-12
- 13-13
- 14-14
- 15-15
- 16-16
- 17-17
- 18-18
- 7
- 8
- 9
Davey had found nothing when he went to look at the apartment rented to Gerold Kim. The owner said the guy had taken off a couple days before, when the rent was due, and he’d sold everything in the place worth anything, tossing the rest.
Frustrated, Davey stomped into the house and straight up to the Perry Mason Suite, locking himself in. That apartment had been the only lead he’d had on the killer. He flipped on the TV and cursed out loud. Another murder. They were starting to happen daily and he couldn’t do anything to stop it.
He would have to start haunting the clubs and local hangouts.
Davey sighed. He was getting to old for this shit.
The door slamming brought a smile to his face as he hoped it was Ville. Trying not to look like he was doing so, he ran downstairs.
Ville and Roxy were sitting in the living room with a black jacket on the table in front of them, looking at it they wanted to murder it.
Davey coughed, “Ralph?
Ville didn’t look up until Roxy poked him, less than gently in the ribs. He jumped, looked at Davey and smiled, “Hello darling. When did you get back?”
“A few minutes ago.” He looked again at the jacket on the table, “Clandestine?”
“What?” Ville had no idea what he was talking about.
Davey was a bit of a label whore and knew the logo for most of the clothing companies popular at the time, “That jacket’s from Clandestine, this clothing company.” He shrugged, “Not a label I would have pictured either of you in.” he indicated Roxy’s Dead Kennedys shirt and Ville’s Slayer one.
Roxy shrugged and stood up, taking the jacket with her, “Maybe it will look better on Frank.” She kissed Ville’s cheek, “Good night honey.”
“Good night love.” Ville said and watched her walk up the stairs, knowing very well she wasn’t going to sleep. It was only ten anyway. He turned back to Davey, “So how did your evening go?”
Davey shook his head and sat down heavily next to Ville, “Badly.”
“I’m sorry.” Ville put his arms around the younger man and held him.
“It’s alright.” He lied, “What happened to Frank?”
“I don’t know. Took off with a girl. I expect he’ll be out a while.”
Davey looked up into Ville’s deep green eyes before closing his own and kissing him. Ville brought his hand up to cup his cheek, smoothing his hair back.
Both men nearly jumped out of their skins when the front door slammed and Frank stumbled in, reeking of alcohol, sex, cigarettes, and, to Ville, blood.
“Hey guys.” He slurred, clutching the doorframe, “Don’t mind me, carry on with the making out. I’m just going to be in the other room playing some Grand Theft Auto.” He winked at them before he fell over, passed out on the floor.
Ville gaped at Frank. The amount of booze that kid would have had to drink in order to get that wasted would have been astronomical.
Frank was snoring gently, mouth open. Davey thought he saw fangs before Ville stood and picked him up, for all the world looking as if the boy weighed no more than a pillow.
“Does he do this often?” Davey asked concerned, for himself as well as Frank. He was going crazy, starting to see vampires everywhere.
“As long as I’ve known him.” Ville answered honestly, “The first time I’ve ever seen him pass out though.”
Davey shook his head, reaffirming his straight edgedness silently to himself. He helped Ville carry Frank up the stairs and dump him in the boat. They each removed a shoe and walked back out, deciding to go out onto the balcony.
It was one of those southern California nights like the one that probably inspired Tiger Army to write “Atomic.” The sky was clear, the air was warm, palm trees were silhouetted inky over the stars and waved gently in the breeze. They could hear people laughing off in the distance and a gentle hum of traffic that was comforting rather than irritating.
Ville sighed, forgetting the stress of the day and sat in a chair, pulling Davey down to sit in his lap.
Davey felt his own tension run out of him as Ville’s arms circled him, “Where did you live before here?”
“Um, I think we lived in France. No, we lived in Germany. Berlin.” Ville said, trying to remember.
“How long have you and Roxy been friends?”
“Forever.” Ville said, carefully.
“Did you go to school together?” Davey found it maddening that he knew so little about this man.
“No. we, um, lived near each other.” He said carefully.
“Oh.” That was vague, “What’s your family like?”
“They were good people. Nice. Dad ran a sex shop in Helsinki, Mum taught us music.”
“You have siblings?” Davey turned to look at him.
“A brother.” Ville wanted to change the subject. He didn’t want to talk about his parents or brother, who were all dead. He couldn’t even go to the funerals because he was supposed to be dead himself. He’d understood why, but it had broken his heart not to be able to pay his last respects to his family.
Ville pasted on a smile and poked Davey lightly in the ribs, “Havok eh? What is that Russian?”
Davey laughed, “No, maybe. I don’t study language. I’m Italian. My real name is David Merchand.”
Something in Ville’s head clicked, but it was lost in the same instant as Davey’s hand traveled down his chest to the waistband of his jeans.

Later, as he and Davey lay in his bed, tangled in the sheets, drifting to sleep, Ville’s eyes popped open and he gasped.
“S’matter?” Davey asked sleepily, settling himself more comfortably on Ville’s chest.
“Nothing love.” Ville said, heart pounding as if he’d run across the world.
He waited until Davey was asleep, then crept out from under the covers and pulled on a pair of jeans. He found Roxy in her usual 4 am spot in front of the TV.
“What’s the matter?” she looked up, concerned, muting the commercial for a new kind of pasta drainer.
Ville green eyes were dark with anguish. He knew he had to tell Roxy, but at the same time, he didn’t know what she would do, and if she hurt Davey, he wasn’t sure what he’d do.
He sat down and put his head in his hands, “Roxy, what would you do if you ever found one of the hunters?”
“Run.” She set the remote down, wondering where his conversation was leading.
“And if he didn’t know you’re a vampire?” he wouldn’t look at her.
“Run.” She repeated, putting a hand on his shoulder, “Ville what’s going on?”
He looked into her eyes finally, “Davey’s last name is Merchand.” He whispered.
Roxy’s jaw dropped and her hand involuntarily clutched Ville’s shoulder painfully, “What?”
Ville pried her hand off and held it in his, “That’s what he told me.” His eyes begged her, “What do we do?”
She let go of his hand, “I don’t know.” She pulled her feet up onto the couch and curled into herself, “I don’t know.” Her big brown eyes got bigger, “Do you think he knows?”
Ville shook his head, “I think if he did we would both have stakes in our hearts or something.”
Roxy snapped out of her panic, “Don’t say anything to Frank. The kid’s likely to do something stupid. Act like nothing happened around the hunter.” To Roxy he had just ceased to be a friend. Davey was now the enemy, “That’s as far as I can plan right now.”
Ville nodded, wondering how he was supposed to act like his new lover wasn’t part of the people trying to eradicate him from the planet, “What do we do about the other vampire?”
“We continue to look for him. He is drawing unwanted attention and needs to be disposed of.” She rested her chin on her knees, “Did you see the mess that was lately our young fosterling?”
Ville rolled his eyes, partly at the state Frank came home in and partly at Roxy’s old fashioned speech, “Yes. Davey helped me pour him into bed. And nobody has fosterlings anymore.”
She waved her hand, “Whatever. He’s going to be much more of a liability now that we have one of them in our house.”
Ville didn’t like Roxy’s train of thought. She could be absolutely ruthless when she thought the situation called for it. He prayed to every god he’d ever heard of that this situation wouldn’t call for it, “I better get back to bed.” He said, kissing her cheek.
Davey murmured something quietly as he climbed back into bed and wrapped his arms around the lanky Finn.
It was a long time before he slept.

~*~alright, more hints to the bad guy. next chapter you get a name. the story's going to start coming a little slower becaus i usually write while i'm at work, and lately i've been having to do actual work at night. so anyway, enjoy and let me know if you like it!~*~md
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Pretending