silhouette of memory. chapter 14.
Bam/Ville. R. Warnings: language. Bam consults a psychiatrist. Beta'd by poisonxangel. Banner by myrskya. prologue. chapter 1. chapter 2. chapter 3. chapter 4. chapter 5. chapter 6. chapter 7. chapter 8. chapter 9. chapter 10. chapter 11. chapter 12/Pt. 1. chapter 12/Pt. 2. chapter 13.
Bam couldn't stop Ville before he got right in the middle of the two people ransacking his home. It was almost as if time slowed down, Ville's hand finding Jonna's arm, jerking her to a standstill that made her drop the things she was carrying. Then the strange man reached out, catching Ville roughly by the shoulder. That was when the yelling started.
"Don't fucking touch me! Who the hell are you, anyway?" Ville yanked his limb from the offending hand, taking a step back so he could fully see the perpetrator before Jonna interrupted.
"He's just...my friend," she said hesitantly, emphasizing 'friend.' Bam was certain she was lying. "I just want my stuff, Ville. Don't make this difficult," she pleaded.
"Oh, I'm making it difficult. You broke into my house! This shit isn't even yours!" Ville pointed out, and, when Bam glanced at the strewn bits, he realized what was going on. There was a guitar, which Bam knew belonged to Ville. His parents had bought it for him when he was eight. She even had a hold of two lamps and some of Ville's suits, which looked like they cost a pretty penny. "What the fuck were you planning on doing with my things?"
Bam took a few steps forward, watching as Jonna reacted. He didn't think it would be appropriate to get involved, but the man standing at Jonna's side, looking at Ville with disgust in his eyes, was making him nervous. He came to stand a few feet behind him, waiting to see what his ex-wife would say in her defense.
"I...I..." Jonna rolled her eyes; her exasperation was tangible as she shifted her weight to one leg, hand on hip. "I need the money, alright? I need it a lot more than you do! After you took my house, I think you owe me," she stepped forward, daring Ville to stop her as she picked his things up off the ground. Bam had never seen something so outrageous as she started towards her car again.
"I don't owe you anything, bitch!" Ville growled as he tore past her, grabbing her wrist and pulling his guitar from her. "My parents bought me this!" he looked like he was going to have a meltdown, his eyes hard and angry. Bam had only ever seen him so on edge once: when they had fought in the locker rooms the day before their feud had begun.
The thought of him being hurt like that again, he couldn't take it. "I think you should give him back his stuff and get the fuck out of here," he said, the protectiveness in his voice more audible than he wanted it to be.
Ville's eyes found him, a flicker of something passing through them, though he wasn't sure what.
"Excuse me? This isn't any of your fucking business, whoever you are," Jonna spat at him, her attention drawn from Ville to him, apparently sizing him up with her impish green eyes. She was beautiful, but in her stare, he could see the pure misanthropy. She hated everything and everyone, including herself.
"It is my business. What you're doing is illegal. Not to mention, completely fucked. I was there when his parents gave him that guitar. It was right before his mother died. If you ever cared about him, well, you'd know that, and you'd know how sick it is for you to even think about selling it for your own benefit," Bam finished, catching movement from the corner of his eye. The hulking, ominous presence at Jonna's side was walking closer towards him.
"Don't talk to her like that. This is between them," he said, his thick drawl making the anger in Bam's gut churn even more.
Before Bam could say anything in response, Ville was speaking again, his attention intensely focused on Jonna. "I assume this guy's what? Your fuck buddy? Because I sure as hell don't believe he's your friend," he folded his arms, his eyes turning to watch him.
"You know what, I'm so sick of this shit. No, he's not just my friend. I've been with him for a year now," she said, so hastily that Bam could barely make out her words. When the meaning clicked in his head, he knew precisely why Ville's face was slowly warping from peeved to wounded, building to irate.
"A YEAR? You were cheating on me? God, I don't even know why I'm surprised, you goddamn...whore!" he choked, and Bam could tell he was somewhere between rage and hurt.
"Yeah, well, at least he's a real man! Not a fucking faggot like you!" she yelled, her voice echoing across the lawn into the trees, leaving in its wake complete and unsettling silence.
Her slur slowly triggered Ville's rage, his eyes burning with revulsion as he stepped forward and roughly took a hold of Jonna's arm, "I told you not to ever call me that again," he sneered, but he couldn't say or do anything more before Jonna's bodyguard stepped in, roughly pushing Ville until he landed smack on the cement, his face twisting in pain.
Bam didn't even think as he watched the nameless hulk of an asshole approach Ville's prone form. He grasped the back of his shirt, roughly tugging him backwards until he turned around. "Don't you dare fucking touch him. I swear, if you and that bitch don't get out of here, I'm going to call the cops!"
Something in Bam's eyes must have rang clear with him, because he backed away, taking Jonna by the arm and pulling her towards the car. Neither of them said anything as they got in, the engine squealing as they high-tailed it out of the parking lot, leaving the wreckage of the fight they picked behind them.
Bam's face turned instantly from anger to worry as he caught sight of Ville cradling his elbow. He could see the deep red scrapes from where it had collided with the concrete. Kneeling down beside him, he took the limb gently into his hands, verifying how much damage there was. The scrapes were pretty deep, deep enough to ooze blood onto his fingers as he looked down at them. "Come on, Vil', we have to get this cleaned up," he said, as delicately as he could. Ville looked like he was ready to cry, his eyes swelling with unshed moisture, though his expression was blank as he nodded, shakily getting up from the ground with Bam's help.
Neither of them said anything as Bam led Ville inside, shutting the door behind them and locking it. He made a mental note of the need to change the lock as soon as possible. But first, he supported most of Ville’s weight as they walked into the first bathroom he found.
“Here, sit down.”
After Ville sat down on top of the toilet lid, Bam rummaged through the medicine cabinet for some bandages and peroxide, taking them in hand and setting them on the counter. “Put your arm over the sink,” he instructed carefully, waiting until Ville moved before he turned the faucet on, letting the lukewarm water rinse the cuts off, the excess blood dribbling into the marble basin and down the drain.
Turning the water off and uncapping the bottle of peroxide, he took Ville’s arm in his grasp. “This is going to sting,” he warned before he poured the disinfectant over the cuts, watching Ville wince as it bubbled up.
After he dried the abrasions off with a washcloth, he bandaged them, the loose gauze protecting them from getting infected.
“There, that should be fine for now,” he said, offering to help Ville up with an outstretched hand.
He took it, and they walked into the living room, Ville’s fingers clutching his as he sat down on the couch, his eyes still and sad as he looked up at Bam, their gazes meeting.
Before Bam could say anything, tears were welling up in his eyes, and the sound of him sobbing filled the room, making Bam’s chest clench. He didn’t need to think to know that he wanted more than anything to comfort Ville, and he tried, sitting down next to him and wrapping his arms around the other man’s shoulders.
Ville seemed resistant at first, pressing against the cage of limbs, but it only took a second before he was clutching back, his shoulders trembling with sobs. He didn’t say anything; he just cried, and cried for the longest time as Bam held him, his hand running attentively through his hair. “Baby, it’s going to be alright,” he whispered, once, twice, and again until, finally, Ville’s sobs died down, his body still in the circle of Bam’s arms, and his fingers loosening where they had been gripping his shirt.
When he looked up, his eyes were red and puffy, his cheeks and Bam’s shirt stained with moisture. Bam had to swallow to keep from tearing up himself. He could only imagine how painful the realization of infidelity was. A year was a long time to unknowingly trust someone who was unfaithful.
And in that moment of realization, looking down at the raw hurt in Ville’s eyes, he felt like he didn’t deserve a second chance. He felt like he was what Ville should stay far away from.
“Bam…I…I’m sorry you had to be there for that. I’m sorry, I’m…f-falling apart on you,” Ville croaked, his words thick and stammered. He wiped at his face, ridding himself of the telltale streaks.
“No, no, don’t be sorry. There’s nothing for you to be sorry about, you understand me? She’s the one who should be sorry.” Bam cupped Ville’s cheek with a steady hand, leaning forward to press a kiss to his forehead. “But it’s over now, and you don’t ever have to see her again, okay?”
“But I do. I have to get her to sign the divorce papers…”
Bam hadn’t thought of that, though an idea came to him almost immediately. He didn’t want Ville to see her, talk to her if he didn’t have to. “I’ll get her to do it, Ville. Give me the papers when you’re ready, and I’ll go.”
Ville’s eyes seemed to widen for a split second, a look of unfettered surprise washing over his features. “You…you would do that? For me?”
Bam only nodded, brushing stray hair from Ville’s face and tucking it behind his ear. He would do anything that Ville asked him to do. Anything that would make that awful look of hopelessness go away.
“Thank you,” Ville whispered, his arms wrapping around Bam’s shoulders again, pulling him close.
While Ville took a shower, Bam gathered all of his things from the front yard, laying his guitar against the wall in the foyer before he took the clothes to the back of the house, trying to find Ville’s room. He looked in each of the rooms, mostly empty, before he found the only one that had anything in it: a generous bed in the center, a vanity, a dresser, and a nightstand. It was meager considering his bedroom at his parents’ house.
Bam tried not to snoop as he took the suits to the walk-in closet, finding their respective hangers, but when he went back in the room, something on the bedside table caught his eye, and he walked closer, looking down at it.
It was a picture of him, lying next to an ashtray filled with the remnants of cigarettes. He picked it up, smiling when he realized exactly when it was taken, and when he realized Ville must have kept it, even after all the shit he had been through.
Just as he was about to put it down, a sound from the doorway surprised him. It was Ville, towel wrapped around his waist, half naked and hair dripping again. Bam let the picture fall to the nightstand, turning to regard Ville somewhat guiltily.
“Sorry, I just came in here to put your things back and I…”
“It’s okay, Bam, I know it’s…weird that I still have that,” Ville replied, and Bam thought he detected a blush spreading on his cheeks as he continued. “I just couldn’t get rid of everything that reminded me of you,” he shrugged as he walked towards Bam, picking the photo up from the nightstand and slipping it inside the drawer.
“You don’t have to explain yourself to me,” Bam said, gently catching Ville’s wrist in his grasp. He didn’t seem uncomfortable with their proximity, uneasy like he usually did. He brought Ville's hand up to his lips unhurriedly, pressing a lingering kiss against the back of it.
He expected Ville to clam up, to pull away, something to indicate he was still apprehensive about physical intimacy. What he didn't expect was what happened. Ville's lips on his, Ville's hand clutching the front of his shirt while the other kept his towel around his waist. The kiss was demanding, Ville's mouth controlling his so perfectly, so eagerly that he could hear his heart speeding up, feel his breath quickening as his hands found Ville's bare back, sliding over the damp skin in appreciation. He couldn't remember the last time a simple kiss had turned him on so much, the uncomplicated touch of lips and teeth making him impossibly hard. He didn't think there was any way he could be more aroused, especially when his fingers found tendrils of wet hair, twining through it and cradling the back of Ville's neck, and when Ville's tongue washed over his bottom lip, earning a desperate whimper from him before he pulled away in embarrassment.
He didn't want it to stop, but he knew if Ville got any closer, he would mortify himself, and possibly scare Ville away.
"Bam...? Are you okay?" Ville asked, undoubtebly catching the abashed look on his face.
"Yeah, I'm...fine." he breathed, running his shaky fingers through his hair.
"Then why'd you stop me?"
Bam shook his head, "It's not that I didn't like it, it's just...I think I liked it a little too much," he said, shyly, trying to calm his erratic breathing.
He watched as Ville's eyes went directly down his torso to settle on the bulge in his jeans, casually and torturously travelling all the way back up to meet his. A small smile tilted his lips. "Well, you're not the only one," he said, cryptically, as he gathered his towel tighter around his waist and turned to walk out of the room. He threw a coy glance behind him before he strode into the hallway, leaving Bam painfully hard and pleasantly shocked.
Once he managed to pick his chin up from the floor, Bam noticed just how late it was getting. His watch read ten o'clock, and he knew Ville had to be tired. Finding him in the bathroom, tugging his shirt on, he came to stand in the doorway, one hand bracing his weight against the frame. "Hey, I was thinking...it's getting late. And I wondered...if you want me to go or stay..."
"I want you to stay, of course," Ville said, sleepily before he yawned, the sound purposely loud and boisterous, drawing a chuckle from both of them. The taller of the two rummaged around the medicine cabinet until he came upon his comb, but it didn't get anywhere near his hair before Bam took it, taking a step behind Ville.
"Let me," he insisted, smiling at Ville's reflection in the mirror as he started to run the comb through Ville's wet mess of tangles, being careful not to pull them too roughly. By the time he was done, Ville was nearly resting all his weight on top of Bam, his eyes drooping and his lips parted.
"Mmm, you sure remember how to make me a pile of fucking goo," Ville whispered, and Bam had to stifle a laugh at how silly he sounded, and how utterly exhausted he looked.
"Yeah, yeah, let me get you in bed, before you fall over," he said as he took Ville by the waist, making sure he made it to the bed without incident.
Ville took to the covers by himself, throwing them back and crawling between them before he pulled the rather comfortable looking duvet back over his form and looked up at Bam with tired chartreuse eyes.
"Have a good sleep, Vil'," he leaned down, pressing a light kiss to Ville's lips. Brushing a strand of hair from the other man's face, he moved to leave the room and find a place on one of the couches when Ville's voice stopped him.
"Where are you going?"
"Uhm, I was going to sleep on the couch."
"No...stay with me, in here," Ville pleaded, suddenly sitting up and looking at Bam expectantly.
Bam felt his chest tighten a bit at the request. "Are you sure?"
A nod, and Ville pulled back the sheets on the other side of the bed, scooting back down into his covers as he turned on his side.
Bam smiled, stripping down to his boxers before he climbed into the bed next to Ville, reaching for the lamp to shut the light off. He pulled the covers over himself, resting his head on the pillow, thankful that he was finally able to get some rest.
Just as he was closing his eyes, though, Ville's hand found his, pulling his arm around a lithe waist. With Ville's back to him, he neatly spooned the other man's body, the warmth radiating off of him and making Bam feel even sleepier, if that was possible. But, something other than sleep found his eyes. Moisture slowly built up in them as he looked at the man next to him, wondering why he was letting Bam into his bed, into his life again. It seemed like something out of a dream, and he didn't know whether to feel happy, or to feel undeserving. He tried not to think too much, instead deciding he would enjoy being able to hold Ville while he slept.
Ville moved a fraction, his fingers tightening around Bam's hand. "Mmm?"
"What are you thinking?" he inquired, his voice barely audible.
Ville didn't answer for a few seconds, the only sound their respective breaths until, "I'm thinking..." he paused. "Even though it's the exact opposite of what's good for me...I might fall for you again. I'm thinking I am falling for you again, Bam. And I'm hoping that you'll be careful...really, really careful with my heart when I do."
to be continued.