Adult-FanFiction.org : Celebrity

The Serpent and the Prey	By : druscillaryan Category: Singers/Bands/Musicians > HIM Views: 854 -:- 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-The Serpent and the Prey
- 1
2,607 words.

Title: The Serpent and the Prey
Rating: R
Pairing: Bam/Ville; Bam/Missy; Ryan/Jonne
Warnings: Rape
Disclaimer: I own nobody, but I own the words, except for the segment titles. Those are all lyrics taken from the song “Either Way” by Guster.
Summary: A dark drama told in seven segments: the mistake, the act, the truth, the confession, ‘I would have’, the end, and the apology.

The Serpent and the Prey

I.
Poison in Everything You Said

Bam left his fiancé for Ville, though not in the conventional way. Of course, which way is conventional when a boy falls in love with another boy? Bam did not leave his fiancé because Ville promised they would be together forever or because of a clumsy fuck on the terrace. Bam left his fiancé because Ville moved in and his school-boy fantasy couldn’t stand a woman he didn’t care for to be so close to the god he adored in his daydreams.

He was, oh, such a gentlemen about it, setting her up a bank account and getting her a house near her parents. He kissed her gently on the cheek. She slapped him across the face and threw her engagement ring in the gutter. He turned and walked back to his car, a smile trying not to flit across his face.

Ville was his now.

And only his.

Ryan and Jonne were two wrapped up in their own private world on the first floor to notice Bam’s increasing affection for the boy on the second. Theirs was a world of laughter, glitter, and sex noises heard throughout the house on quieter days.

Bam and Ville’s was a world of cigarettes, too much alcohol, not-so-drunken kisses, and Bam’s tears late at night. The younger, believing he was oh-so-smart and that no one had a clue. The older, a serpent, poised and awaiting the correct moment to strike.

Neither expected their fate, neither expected a merciful God and a messenger angel. One’s impossible daydream was a happily ever after; the other’s was much, much darker and much more possible.

II.
Were You Ever Kind, Were You Always Cruel?

It always seems to start during a thunderstorm, the beginning of the end. Sometimes the lights go out, but they didn’t in this case. Candles replaced glitter downstairs, but the laughter didn’t dissipate with the claps of thunder.

Upstairs alcohol had replaced alcohol and now Bam was half passed out on his bed, clad only in a pair of boxers. His eyes opened slightly when he heard the clunk of Ville’s beer bottle hitting the dresser. But they shut again almost immediately. “Dude, I’m too fuckin’ drunk for this shit.”

“Then I take it you won’t make a fuss, Bammie?” Ville’s smile was like that of the serpent. Too cruel, too insane, and completely in control. Bam’s eyes were still closed as Ville’s clothes fell to the ground. He didn’t open them until he felt Ville move over him, skin against skin. “Hello there.” Ville’s voice was leering, evil incarnate, a true flesh-and-blood demon. His fingers burnt Bam’s skin as they tugged his boxers down around his ankles. “Tell me you haven’t dreamt of this, darling, that you haven’t jerked off to this very moment.”

“Just go slow.” Bam said softly, eyes unsure but still brimming with trust. “I haven’t in awhile.” His eyes flickered toward his bedside table. “There’s lube in there, Ville.”

The older didn’t even look. Didn’t lick a finger, didn’t insert one into the boy beneath him. He simply thrust, pressing inward with all his strength.

Bam’s blue eyes flooded with pain as his face became nearly as pale as Ville’s. His lips trembled as he opened his mouth, but no words came out. His whole body began to tremble as his head moved a fraction of an inch to each side. Tears began to roll down his cheeks as Ville pulled out, only to thrust into him again savagely.

“No.” the younger managed to choke out. One word. The serpent laughed. Lips still trembling, Bam pressed a hand against Ville’s shoulder, shaking his head through the pain. “Not . . . in years . . . you’ll . . . tear me.”

Ville’s lips pressed against Bam’s ear. “Then you really ought to quit lying about your flings, love. People will think you’re a loose whore and try to take advantage.” He stared into Bam’s eyes as the younger boy sobbed. “You deserve it.”

With those three words, Bam’s head fell to the side. He stared at Ville’s wrist, eyes tracing the heart tattoo as his body continued to be tortured. The tears stopped and even when Ville tore him and the blood began to run down his thighs, Bam made no noise. He trembled, but he made no noise.

Ville came inside the younger boy, then pulled out. He put on his clothes without a word, turned and left.

Bam lay there for a moment, not thinking, barely breathing. He didn’t move to cover himself, didn’t cry out from the pain, didn’t call for help. There’s no telling how long he would have stayed that way if he hadn’t heard the door open. Wincing, he moved to try and pull up his boxers.

“Bam, Jonne and I heard Ville leave and—“ The voice froze. “Bam?”

The boxers were halfway up the boy’s legs, which were red from blood. He was lying in a puddle of it. It looked as though the bed were bleeding, not Bam.

“Jonne!” Ryan yelled, running to Bam. His fingers slide along Bam’s legs, looking for cuts. When he found none, his eyes widened in horror.

The blonde Finn appeared in the doorway. “Jesus Christ, Ryan, what the hell happened to him?”

“Call 911. Get an ambulance.”

Jonne’s cigarette fell to the floor. “Can’t we drive him there faster than they can get here?”

Ryan turned to look at his boyfriend. “They’re doctors. He’s sick. He needs a doctor.”

“People who are sick don’t bleed like that.” Jonne said, even as he was picking up Bam’s beside phone to place the call.

III.
Where Did You Learn, It’s Either Him or You?

They would release information to Bam’s next of kin. And as the boy had called off his engagement, at twenty-eight years old, the people who were still taking care of him were his parents. He heard his mother’s hushed voice as he woke up, keeping his eyes closed.

“He was raped.” She sounded as though she were crying.

“I know.” That was Ryan, his voice barely audible.

There were some quiet whispers, apparently from Jonne trying to comfort April.

“Ville was the last person to leave that room.” Ryan said finally. “We heard him leave and I went to check on Bam when he didn’t come back in.”

“Ville? That can’t be right.” April’s voice trailed off. “I always thought . . . they were lovers.” She looked at her son’s roommates. “Weren’t they?”

Jonne shook his head, leaning against Ryan, who brought an arm up around him. “Bam wanted Ville. Everyone knew that.”

“But Ville must have . . . who would put up with a school-girl crush like that if they didn’t?”

“He got off on it.” The voice was harsh, like a knife.

Then the voices grew silent.

IV.
Wonder What Difference Does it Make . . . Either Way?

Bam’s eyes opened slightly on instinct the second time he woke up. He saw his mother’s hand on the side of his bed, his father’s arm beside hers. He heard breaths behind him and knew either Ryan or Jonne, or both, were still there.

“Bam?” That was his mother’s voice.

The boy closed his eyes and said nothing.

“Bam? Sweetie?” No answer. “Are you feeling better? The doctor gave you something to help.”

“Was it Ville?”

“Ryan!”

No apology was issued. No answer was given.

“Ville’s probably in Finland by now,” Jonne murmured to his boyfriend, “so there’s no real reason to ask, is there?”

Bam turned so his head was in his pillow, pulling the sheets tighter to himself.

“I’ll kill him.” Bam heard Ryan say before there was a sound of tears and two sets of footsteps leaving the room.

Footsteps entered the room a silent three minutes later. “If you folks don’t mind, we’d like to ask him some questions alone.”

“Mom!” Bam reached out and grabbed April’s hand as both his parents stood to leave, cursing from the pain of moving his body so suddenly.

His mother sat down swiftly, holding tightly to her son’s hand as well. “Lay back down, Bam. You’ll only hurt yourself more. I won’t leave you, I promise. Now lay back down, sweetie.”

There was a silence as Bam did what his mother said for the first time in what would have been a longer time. “Now, Bam . . .” April’s voice was as gentle as the hand brushing her son’s curls out of his face. “Was it Ville?”

Silence.

“It’s really important that we know, Bam. Otherwise the cops won’t know who did it and they’ll have to start looking at other suspects. Ryan and Jonne both live with you, so they’ll be the next suspects.” It was a guilt trip from hell and April Margera didn’t feel at all comfortable with any of her words.

Bam’s hand twitched in hers.

“Was it Ville, Bam?”

He nodded.

V.
Don’t Let Me See That Other Side of You.

Ville had, in fact, made it back to Finland. Bam made it back to his house in a week. After that day in the hospital Bam showed no more affection toward his mother than anyone else, so she came by twice a day to check on him, leaving his general upkeep in the hands of Jonne and Ryan. It broke her heart, but Bam only hurt himself every time he pulled away from her.

There hadn’t been much glitter in the house since Ville left. Two days before Bam got discharged April had taken Jonne and Ryan aside and told them to get rid of every heartagram and H.I.M. artifact in the house, not knowing they had already started the seemingly impossible task. It looked as though someone had burglarized it.

Skateboard were missing, the heartagram sign was wrenched off the door. Ryan had driven the Heartagram car to the edge of the woods and left it there. The framed poster over the fireplace and the ones flanking Bam’s bed were gone. His bed had also been moved, replaced with another. April asked the hospital to wrap Bam’s wrist in gauze before he left so that her son wouldn’t have to see the heart tattoo he shared with his rapist.

The fourth day was the day Bam spoke. He looked up toward the left of his bed as Ryan came in. “Where is it?” he asked.

“We got rid of it.” Ryan said, sitting down on Bam’s bed. “We’ll have to go shopping when you get better. You have no stools, half your CDs are missing, we need something new to put over the fireplace, and you’re short a vehicle.”

Bam almost smiled. “I have his tattoos in my skin, Ryan. What do you want me to do about that?”

“They have laser surgery.”

Bam managed a small smile that time. “You know something?”

“I know lots of somethings.” Ryan said. “But probably not this one, so tell me.”

Bam’s smile got a bit bigger, but his eyes were still dark. “I loved him. I would have let him. I just wanted him to go slow. Use lube, prepare me, all that shit. I would have let him, Ry. He didn’t have to rape me.”

Ryan’s mouth opened, but Bam began to speak again.

“Do you think he was tricking me from the beginning? Do you think it was all leading up to this? I mean, he’s such a fucking good actor. Everyone thinks he’s this beautiful romantic. Even I did. How can that many people be so stupid, Ryan? How can he trick so many of us?”

“He’s a liar.” Ryan’s voice was soft. “He’s a liar and he’s good at it.”

Bam’s breath caught in his throat. “I would have let him. I loved him. I would have let him.”

No one knows how long they sat there like that, silent except for Bam trying not to cry and Ryan’s labored breathing.

“Where’s Jonne?” Bam asked finally.

“Finland.”

Bam sat up as much as he could, propping himself up on his elbows. His eyes were wide, his mouth slightly open. “What?! You let him go to Finland?”

Ryan nodded, looking on the sheets. “I had to. He needed it.”

“What’s he going to do?” Bam asked, eyes filling with tears. They both knew, but Ryan did the lying for them.

“I don’t know.”

VI.
I’ll Have to Wait to Get the Best of You.

It was the sixth day that Jonne came back. Ryan was sitting on Bam’s bed again and Bam was sitting up, leaning against too many pillows. The door opened and the Finnish blonde came in, smoking a cigarette. He leaned down to brush his lips against Bam’s forehead before sitting on his boyfriend’s lap and planting a kiss to Ryan’s lips.

“Doing better then?” he asked Bam. Two of his pink nails were chipped and one was broken.

“Did you see him?” Bam asked without answered.

Jonne paused for a moment, putting his cigarette out on the floor and fishing in his pocket for another, lighting it. “Yes. I rang him and asked him to meet me in a coffee shop. I asked him about what happened.”

“What did he say?”

Jonne’s fingers nearly dropped the cigarette. “Bastard laughed. Fucking laughed.”

Ryan’s eyes fell to the sheets and Bam’s filled with tears. “What happened then?”

“I propositioned him. We went to his place and I stabbed him with a kitchen knife ten times. I left him in a pile of his own blood, still alive, like he did you.”

“They’ll send you back!” Bam shrieked. “You’re not a citizen here! They’ll send you back!”

“No, they won’t. And, yes, I am.” Jonne pressed his cigarette to his lips. “I stopped and got married before I came back here.”

“Who the hell did you marry?” Ryan asked.

“Missy.” Jonne said.

“My ex-fiance?” Bam asked, dumfounded.

“Well, she was the only one who would have said yes.” Jonne said. “We’ll get divorced in a year or so. Irreconcilable differences.”

Bam’s eyes lowered. “Did she know about Ville?”

“Yes.”

Bam nodded. “Why don’t you guys go downstairs and have sex and stuff since Jonne’s back?”

“What are you going to do?” Ryan asked.

“Call her.”

“Missy?”

“Yes.” Bam sighed. “To thank her and talk to her. And since she’s married Jonne she better move in so the government doesn’t say Jonne only married her for a green card.”

“But he did.”

VII.
Why Give Away That Other Side of You?

“Missy?”

“Bam?” Missy’s voice flooded with relief and concern. “Are you all right? Jonne told me what happened. Oh, Bam, are you okay?”

“I will be. I just needed to tell you something.”

“It’s all right. I would have done the same thing he did.”

“. . . What?”

“Jonne? Weren’t you going to say something about the . . . what were you going to say, Bam?”

“I’m sorry.” Bam traced his fingers on his black sheets. “I’m sorry I broke off our engagement. I just . . . I guess I thought I . . . I did it because of Ville.” He swallowed the lump in his throat. “But I did love you. I still do. So I’m sorry for that, Missy. I didn’t want to hurt you.”

He could hear a smile. “I know, Bam. If you wanted to hurt me then you wouldn’t have taken care of me for so long.”

“So do you think . . . maybe someday you’ll be ready to . . . forgive me?”

“Yes.”

---Finished---
- 1
You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.
Report Story

The Serpent and the Prey