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In My Head (Sequel to Killing Me Softly)	By : TaimaMarie Category: Singers/Bands/Musicians > HIM Views: 882 -:- 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-In My Head (Sequel to Killing Me Softly)
- 1
Bam swallowed. He was here, finally. His money and luck had come into good use. He had managed to score backstage passes. HIM was playing on stage, and his heart was thumping in his chest to the beat of the song.
They were ending this set soon. Soon, Ville would walk off, maybe still holding that beer bottle in his hand. And, oh, God, Bam was finally going to get to stand next to him. He wiped his palms off on his jeans, wishing they wouldn’t get so sweaty.
Why did it matter? A voice in his head asked. Ville was just up there on stage. He’s going to be sweaty.
But that’s different; he tried to tell the voice. He has a reason to. I don’t. I’m just a stupid kid. He’s… he’s not. Bam knew that he was being more than slightly ridiculous. There was no way a person could ever be as wonderful as he had imagined Ville to be.
But he refused to let those beautiful fantasies be shattered just yet.

Under the weight of your wings,
You are a god and whatever I want you to be.
And I wonder if truly you are,
Nearly as beautiful as I believe.

Did he know, Bam wondered. Did he know that every night his voice was echoing in Bam’s head? Could he possibly know how much Bam thought about him? Was it even possible?
He swallowed as the singer threw his head back and sang. He could make out the muscles straining in his neck. He could see the way his chest was heaving.
He could see everything.
But it wasn’t enough.

In my head,
Your voice.
You’ve got all that I need,
And this make believe will get me through,
Another lonely night.

They would be done in precious few minutes. Bam felt like he had spent his whole life waiting for this. He had been counting down to this moment, and now it was almost over.
He couldn’t act like one of the ordinary fans, he thought. He couldn’t fall to his knees and worship the man. That wouldn’t do. He wanted Ville to think he was different. He wanted Ville to think he was special.
No, Bam decided. He was going to act like an regular person. He was going to be smart and witty and suave. And he was going to treat Ville like he was an ordinary man.
Even if it killed him.

Under the weight of your wings,
Should ever we meet on your side of the stereo,
I will pretend I know not of your thoughts,
And even the way that they mirror my own.

All too soon, the set was over. But somehow, it had taken too much time. Ville had spotted him, was walking towards him. He willed his heart not to jump into his mouth, willed his brain to work properly.
And then there he was, standing there. He was wearing a smile and a sweat soaked t-shirt. He extended one slender hand to Bam. He tried not to shake as he reached out and took it.
Sparks ran down his spine. He tried to keep a straight face.
“Hi. I’m Bam. I just… Um… I love your music.” He said softly.
“Thank you, sweetheart.” Ville grinned.
“Wanna go and get a drink?”

I’ll take you away in the way that you take me,
And go where I go.

And so they were sitting at a bar. Ville had the dorkiest laugh ever, but Bam found that he loved making the Finnish man laugh.
Not all their conversations were funny though. They ranged from serious, to funny, to just plain bizarre. The tabletop was soon littered with empty beer bottles and the ashtray soon overflowed.
Bam wished he could reach over, take the cigarette from Ville’s mouth. He wanted to put it in his own mouth, inhale the same smoke that the singer did. He wanted to taste the way Ville he. He wanted to feel the way he did.
Of course, he did no such thing.
But the thought was still in his head. Their hands were inches from each other, their legs almost touching under the table. It was heavenly torture. He wanted to, almost needed to, reach out and touch the other man.
Bam hung onto every word Ville said, filed them away for later to mull them over as he tried to sleep.

In my head,
Your voice.
You’ve got all that I need,
And this make believe will get me through,
Another lonely night.

They ended up back at Ville’s hotel room. The singer flopped down on his stomach, stretched out. Bam hovered at the edge of the bed, almost scared to get to close him.
“Don’t be scared, love.”
“I’m not,” he protested, scooting closer just to prove that he wasn’t. Ville lit up yet another cigarette, blew the smoke towards the ceiling. They talked softly for few minutes before Ville walked across the room to get his guitar.
And then he began to play.
He played for no one else but Bam. Bam felt his heart trembling to the rhythm of the strings. He felt his lips forming the words that Ville’s were singing, he felt his fingers twitching, longing to move the way Ville’s were.
It was the best thing.
It was the worst thing.
His whole soul seemed to twist inside of his body. He lay down on the bed then, curled up tightly. The Finnish singer smiled sweetly at him and began to play louder.

Fall away to the sound of my heart to your beat,
Melancholy and cool,
Kind of bittersweet.
Love on, repeat.
I’m echoing all your philosophies.

It was almost endless. The sound seemed to echo and bounce around the hotel room. Ville voice mixed and blended with the guitar strings. It was so beautiful that it almost hurt. Bam curled himself up tighter, hugged his knees to his chest.
All too soon, the music was over. He felt the bed dip down with the weight of someone else.
“Are you all right, sweetheart?” Ville, concerned and close, that voice in his ear. That voice that haunted him. That voice that could kill him with one harsh word.
“I’m fine.” He struggled to keep his own voice steady. “You play beautifully.”
“I suppose,” Ville had a funny smile on his face as Bam rolled to face him.
“Love Metal,” Bam said quietly. That was all he had to say. Ville knew then that the skater understood. He knew what this music was about. He nodded once and they lay there quietly, together.

And as I,
Fall away to the sound of my heart,
To your beat.
Melancholy and cool,
Kind of bittersweet.
Love on, repeat,
I’m echoing all your philosophies.
And as I,
Oh…

Their eyes were soon drifting shut before they knew what was happening. They curled close together on the bed, a precious few inches of space between them. Sometime, a few hours later, Bam’s eyes opened.
Ville was still out, the alcohol having taken him over. Bam scooted closer, so there was no space. Ville, automatically reacting to the warm body next to him, draped arms and legs over Bam.
“Ville?” he whispered. The Finnish boy did not respond but to nuzzle deeper into Bam’s neck. His hands went to Ville’s head, cupping it. His fingers tangled in the long brown hair.
“I just wanted to let you know that… I really like you.” He said haltingly. “I like you a lot. You’re so—I don’t know. I wish I could explain just what it is that you do to me. I can’t though. I can’t even say this to you when you can hear me.”

I don’t,
Wanna be fool hearted.
Baby, I’m out,
Numbered in my head.
I don’t,
I don’t wanna be fool hearted.
Baby, I’m out,
Numbered in my head.
My head…

Bam allowed himself the luxury of pressing his face into the hair. He inhaled. There was the normal slight smell of sweat. And then there was the cigarette smoke that surrounded Ville like some sort of holy halo. There was the scent of shampoo, some sort that Bam had never smelled before.
He knew he would search until he found it though. He wanted this smell too, knowing that it could never belong to him. It belonged to Ville, but he wanted to share it. He wanted a little part of it.
He let his fingers run down the relaxed back of the passed out man. He felt every ripple of muscle, reached over and felt the bumping of his ribs. He gulped, hoping, praying that Ville would wake up.
Bam pressed his lips against the scalp, lightly, gently.

In my head,
Your voice.
You’ve got all that I need,
And this make believe will get me through another,
Night.

Ville murmured in his sleep, said something Bam didn’t understand. Perhaps it was Finnish, more likely it was something sleep filled that no one awake could understand. He snuggled closer to the man, feeling the arm around him tighten.
“Don’t go.” Ville mumbled.
Though he knew that it had nothing to do with him, had to do with whatever dream was playing in the man’s head, the words still warmed Bam. He smiled to himself, stroked the hair that his fingers were buried in.
How many nights had he dreamed of this? How many times had he longed for this? It was too beautiful, too surreal.
“I’ll be right here,” he said softly. “For as long as you want me to be, I’ll be here.”

Yeah your voice,
You got all that I need,
And this make believe will get me through another lonely night.
Lonely night.

He rearranged the limbs around him his head was now against Ville’s chest. They were close and snug together, warm and safe now. The Finnish man seemed to be making no protest as they lay on the bed.
The soft sound of Ville breathing filled his head. He smiled against his chest and inhaled deeply. This was wonderful. This was perfect.
He wanted to stay like this before.

Under the weight of your wings,
I’ll make believe you are all that I’ll ever need,
All that I need.
- 1
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In My Head (Sequel to Killing Me Softly)