(no subject)
Title: Shadow Passion
Author: 616hasgotaname
Fandom: Music/VAM
Summery: Companion piece to “Kiss”. AU. Two people brought together by an undying love that defies the ages. One, a vampire with a bizarre need for camaraderie, the other a human ostracized from an unforgiving mortal world. Separately, they are powerless and lonely. Together they are unstoppable.
Disclaimer: I DO OWN VILLE AND BAM! I DON’T CARE WHAT YOU SAY! *cough* Yeah, they own themselves. This never happened (der), so don’t sue.
Rating: R to NC-17
Once again, this lovely banner was made by the amazingly talented annushkazhivago. Thanks again! <33
As always, links to "Kiss" and previous chapters behind the cut.
"Kiss"
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Hours passed in comfortable silence as they sat there, watching the moon drift across the virtually clear sky. As it made it’s decent toward the distant horizon, Bam felt Ville shift beside him-sitting up slightly as if to stand. Before he could, though, Bam placed a hand on his arm and held him in place.
“Where are you going?” he asked quietly, almost afraid to break the peace between them.
He smiled down at the boy, eyes twinkling in the dim light of the moon. “I have to leave before the sun rises, I don’t think you’d care to see what would happen if I didn’t.”
The morbid joke brought a smile to Bam’s lips, even though he was regretting their departure. “When will I see you again?”
The vampire didn’t hesitate to answer. “Tomorrow night, same place.”
It was simple and matter-of-fact. Bam nodded, knowing that there wasn’t a thing in the world that could make him miss the appointment. Of course he’d be there. He’d wait until the end of the world for this unique person who was practically a stranger to him.
Ville stood up slowly, trying to prolong their meeting for as long as possible, before placing a gentle kiss on Bam’s forehead and walking away. He seemed to glide rather than walk, drifting off into the shadows and slinking away without making a sound. It was eerie, but Bam found himself watching until he could see nothing but an empty cemetery around him.
He lay there for a moment, staring at the spot that Ville had recently occupied. The warmth was gone now, and he felt himself shivering as the night air wrapped around his body. A bird chirped in the distance, warning the creatures of the night of the sun’s arrival.
With a heavy sigh, Bam pulled himself from the ground and headed for the gate.
*--===--===<><><><><><><><><><>-===--===--*
His mother was more than annoyed when Bam finally crawled back home well after six a.m., prancing around the kitchen and declaring that she had been up all night waiting for him. He apologized quickly, knowing that there was no real excuse to offer, before giving her a brief hug and walking up the stairs. He could feel her frustration all the way to his room, thick and tangible.
Bam collapsed on his bed, exhaustion finally setting in as the night’s events raced around his mind. The anticipation for the next sunset was too much for him to bear. He wished that he could be with Ville right then, but he knew that it was hopeless dreaming.
Just hours ago he would have thought that the idea of him really being a vampire was absurd, that the man was just a whack-job with an overactive imagination. But not after tonight. No, now Bam was a true believer.
His fingers ghosted over the small puncture wound on his hip, lightly rubbing the abrasion through the fabric of his jeans. It stung a little, but the pain was minimal. He felt himself craving the bite, desiring the feeling of sharp fangs piercing his flesh as he cried out in absolute pleasure.
A moan that he wasn’t aware he was holding escaped his lips then, shattering the silence around him and causing him to jump. God, what the hell was he thinking? He shook his head, trying to clear away the dirty thoughts that were threatening to invade his imagination, and rolled over with a groan. His whole body felt sore. He needed some sleep. Clicking off the bedside lamp, he let his eyes slip closed before falling into dream land.
And that’s where he remained until seven o’clock that night. Bam was awoken by the sound of his mother crashing pots together angrily in the kitchen. Cooking was her specialty, something she did every night in order to keep some kind of family tradition alive despite the fact that their family was slowly growing apart. Bam understood why she felt the need to do such things, but at times it seemed as though she was putting up a front to hide the fact that they were your typical dysfunctional family.
That thought came to him once more as he made his way downstairs. Why did she even bother? There was no one there to witness what she was doing. There was no prize she got for making the best pot-roast in the neighborhood. Then why did it matter? Bam figured it was more for her own gain than anyone else’s, but he really had no clue.
April didn’t say anything to him as he sat down at the kitchen table, instead opting for shooting him the occasional scowl over her shoulder. She was still upset over last night, but Bam was sure she’d get over it soon. It didn’t take long before his brother Jess and his father walked in, taking their designated seats. No one spoke, a common occurrence at their dinner table, but Bam couldn’t help but think that it was because of him.
“Here we go,” April smiled as she placed a steaming crock-pot of food in the center of the table. The three men around her all grunted in approval before digging in.
Only the sound of silverware clanging against china could be heard for the next agonizing minutes, Bam’s stomach tying itself in a knot as he was expecting to be reprimanded for his night adventures. Sure enough, it came.
“So your mother tells me you didn’t come home until six this morning.” There was no room for argument as Bam watched his father continue to shove food into his gaping mouth, not even bothering to look up at his son as he spoke. “You’re grounded.”
Bam opened his mouth to say something, but realized that it wouldn’t get him very far. What was he going to do? He had to meet Ville tonight. Bam nodded and went back to eating his food, but suddenly he wasn’t very hungry any more.
“Can I be excused?” Best to put on the proper-child act for now, he figured.
Of course his father had to get the last word in. “Yes, but I want you to go straight to your room and I don’t want to see you again until school tomorrow.”
Bam nodded bitterly, biting back the venomous words he wanted so badly to spit at his father, before putting his plate in the sink and stalking up the stairs. He waited until his door was securely locked before letting out one loud, agonizing scream of frustration.
“God Fucking Dammit!” The curse words fell so easily from his tongue, no guilt rising up in him at the knowledge that he had just taken the Lord’s name in vein. The only thing he felt was pure, unadulterated frustration. He knew that sneaking out of the house was out of the question-they had lights that were motion activated and would go off whenever anyone stepped one foot on their property-and there was no way he could walk right out the front door. He was trapped. And Ville would be left waiting for him.
*--===--===<><><><><><><><><><>-===--===--*
The buzz of an alarm clock yanked Bam from his sleep what seemed like minutes later. Groaning at the increasingly annoying sound, he kicked at the contraption beside his bed until finally giving up and jerking it from the wall. Blessed silence flooded the room.
He was just about to fall back asleep when he the events of the night before rushed before his mind’s eye. He had left Ville waiting, he had forgotten about him. Jumping from the bed, Bam scurried to find a watch so he could check the time, his breath rushing from his lungs in uneven pants. However, he quickly realized that his endeavor was unnecessary when he saw the sun creeping over the horizon.
“Shit, fuck!” he cursed loudly, not bothering to form a proper sentence. He heard the heavy footsteps of his large father making their way toward his door, undoubtedly en route to wake Bam up. Seconds later there was a pounding at his door.
“Bam, get up-it’s time for school,” Phil’s voice thundered, a slight hint of anger accentuating his words.
“I’m up, Phil,” Bam called, molding his words in a way that he knew would piss his father off. “Leave me the fuck alone.”
There was silence for a moment before Phil answered with, “Watch your mouth. I’m driving you to school today, so make sure you’re ready in fifteen minutes. You’re going in early.”
Bam couldn’t suppress the groan that escaped his lips at his father’s words. He grabbed a clean pair of pants and headed for the bathroom, his mind still racing a mile a minute. By the time he was done washing and getting dressed, he still hadn’t come up with a conclusion for his little dilemma. His conscience felt as if it were being dragged down by heavy lead weights, the guilt of what he had done to Ville being too much to bear. He knew the mysterious man would wait for him all night.
“You almost done in there, boy?” his father’s voice snapped him from his mental rant.
“Yeah, yeah, yeah; I’ll be out in a minute,” Bam grumbled, quickly grabbing his backpack and heading for the door. Phil was waiting for him by the front door but no words were spoken as they walked out to the van that sat permanently in the garage. They were halfway down the street before his father decided to break the silence.
“Did you do all of your homework?”
“Yeah,” Bam lied. It was a mindless conversation, and he briefly wondered if his father considered this useless chatter as ‘bonding’. Phil said something else, but Bam wasn’t really paying attention. Rather, he was peering out at the cemetery as they drove past, trying to get any glimpse that the man from the other night was there. He came up empty handed though, as they quickly sped past.
They didn’t say their goodbyes as Bam climbed out of the van and into the throng of High School students. Bam breathed out a sigh of relief as he was finally released from the suffocating silence. It would be a long day, he could feel this already-but it was best to get it over with.
*--===--===<><><><><><><><><><>-===--===--*
Bam found himself cursing his luck by the end of the day. Seven classes of obnoxious teenagers and useless lessons later, he pushed his way outside and tried to make it home as quickly as possible. He needed to meet Ville that night, no matter what his parents had to say about it. However, fate seemed to have different plans for him that day.
“Well if it isn’t our dear old Bambi,” a mocking voice called from behind. Bam cringed at the knowledge that the one person he really didn’t want to run into had followed him out the door. Turning around sharply on his heel, he placed a cocky grin on his face and greeted Pete and his lackeys.
“I see you’re up for more, dick face,” there was no malice in his voice, only a spiteful laugh. This seemed to piss Pete off even more, as he shoved the books he held in his hands to the ground and stalked up to Bam. They were standing mere inches apart, Pete’s rank breath washing over Bam like a bad disease. Scrunching up his nose, Bam scowled, “Ever heard of breath mints?”
Before he could blink, Pete’s fists were grasped tightly around Bam’s shirt collar, easily lifting him a foot off the ground. The sudden movement took the skater by surprise, his skateboard clattering to the ground as he kicked in an effort to be released. Pete only constricted his grip, the cotton fabric of his shirt digging into the back of Bam’s neck. “You should know better than to talk to me like that.”
“Sorry, I must not have read the manual,” Bam rolled his eyes. His outward appearance read calm, but inside his heart was pounding. One hand let go of his collar and shot out toward his face in the form of a balled fist, landing squarely on Bam’s left cheek. Gasping at the sharp pain, Bam shoved Pete’s hands away and stumbled backwards.
“Consider it payment for last week,” Pete laughed, stalking off with his friends before Bam got the chance to retaliate. Cupping a careful hand around his face, Bam picked up his board and turned around.
“Fuck those stupid fuckers,” he grimaced, the pain in his cheek dying down to a slight throb. He was definitely going to have a nasty bruise there in a few hours. Suddenly a wave of determination washed over him, “I’ll get them back.”
Bam took the long way home, not wanting to talk to anyone he might see on the streets. Empty sidewalk paved the way like the yellow brick road as he turned down another nameless street, idly pushing his board beneath his coasting feet. It was nearly five o’clock when he finally spotted his house in the distance, the driveway empty except for Jess’s haggard old car. Quickly finding the spare key, he unlocked the door and headed straight for his room. If there was anyone home, he didn’t want to talk to them.
Throwing his empty backpack at the foot of his bed, Bam collapsed on the thick mattress and dug around beneath him for the remote to his CD player. Flicking on a random Abney Park album, he let the light techno music drift to his ears as his eyes slipped closed. He made the mistake of rolling over and burying his face into a pillow, the sharp stab of pain in his cheek draining him of any sleep he was planning on getting.
With a groan, he stood and walked to the bathroom to examine his face in the mirror. Sure enough, an angry looking bruise was forming in the shape of a half moon just below his left eye. Splashing some cold water on his face, he dug through the cabinets and pulled out a bottle of generic brand Ibuprofen and popped three of the pills-as satisfied grin spreading over his eyes as the pain dulled down.
As he made his way back to his room, Bam found that his hands were shaking-with anticipation or fear for the night ahead, he wasn’t sure. Running those shaking hands through his hair in an attempt to calm down, he glanced at the spot where his alarm clock should be but realized that it was still lying on the ground. He plugged the annoying contraption back in and reset the time using a watch on his dresser. Bam was trying to busy himself with mindless tasks, the night couldn't come quick enough, but there was nothing to be done and he quickly found himself growing antsy.
“Fucking ADD,” he scowled at his wall. Throwing his hands up in desperation, he meandered down the stairs in an attempt to find something to busy himself with. However, the house was basically spotless and one battery was missing from the TV remote. Cursing his luck for the second time that day, he decided to make some food.
The cupboards were basically empty, it was a wonder his mother managed to make meals for them out of the junk they had, but he found a can of Spaghettios and made quick work of throwing them in the microwave. Three minutes later, he realized he wasn’t very hungry and ended up tossing the full bowl in the sink for someone else to clean up.
“Fuck it, I’ll just leave now.”
Bam didn’t bother changing his frumpy clothes as he nearly ran out the front door, not slowing down until he reached the cemetery. The graveyard took on an entirely different feel in the light of day. It was less menacing, less gothic-more like a park than a house for the dead. The sun drifted down through the thick willow trees that speckled the land, casting a heavenly glow on the sleeping tombstones but still managing to draw out the dark shadows from beyond. It was almost surreal.
He took a seat on one of the many stone benches that line the pathway that ran through the center of the cemetery, watching as the day slipped to night. Birds grew silent as a soft wind brushed the tree branches, as if a beckoning warning to the creatures of the night that it was time to come out and play. Hours passed in peaceful silence as Bam lost himself to the night around him, his mind drifting to the point of shutting off. He was so spaced out that he didn’t notice it when someone sat down beside him.
“You didn’t show last night,” the soft voice snapped Bam from his thoughts, breaking the silence with a sharp clang. Turning to face the man that plagued his dreams and haunted his thoughts, a guilty smile pulled taut across his face.
“It was beyond my control,” he tried to apologize. The vampire only nodded in understanding, reaching out a cold hand to caress the younger boy’s face.
Ville cautiously eyed the sweltering bruise on Bam’s left cheek. “Where’d you get that?” he asked quietly.
“Some shit-for-brains at school,” Bam answered with a shrug, thankful that the vampire wasn’t upset with him for missing their previous date.
Ville bent over and softly nuzzled his face against Bam’s, his breath cold against the skater’s skin. He let out an almost inaudible laugh and smirked, “High School, I remember those days.” He appeared to be reminiscing-almost fondly, it seemed. Suddenly, his eyes grew cold, “I could have that taken care of for you, you know.”
“I don’t need anyone fighting my battles for me,” Bam pushed away defensively, quickly regretting his actions as a sad frown passed over Ville’s features.
“It’s not fighting your battles, more of…” Ville mumbled, searching for the right words. “No one should lay a hand on my property.”
The title sent a chill down Bam’s spine, but he ignored it and tried to change the subject. “How old are you?”
“Older than you,” Ville smirked, knowing that his vague answer would get on the boy’s nerves.
“Well, obviously,” Bam rolled his eyes. “But…you can’t be that old if you remember High School, right?” He wondered briefly if the question was too intrusive, but that thought left him as Ville smiled.
“True. I have not been a vampire long…” he said, almost to himself. “At least, not long by the standards set by other vampires.”
“Still, how old are you?”
Ville laughed at the boy’s determination. “I was turned at the age of twenty-seven, and I have only been a vampire for a little over forty years.”
Bam paused at the short number. He had expected to hear that the vampire was over a hundred years old and had traveled the world. He supposed he had been reading too much fiction as of late. “Wow…I wasn’t really expecting that one-”
He was cut off as Ville’s soft lips crashed into his own, pushing him back slightly as cold hands tangled in his hair. A gasp left his lips as the vampire pulled away slightly, his lips ghosting over the vein at Bam’s neck. “No more questions.”
A warm tongue darted out to trail a wet line down Bam’s neck, fingers absently playing with the collar of the skater’s shirt. Bam turned so he was straddling the bench, one leg on each side, as Ville leaned up on his knees and pulled his shirt over his head. Nimble fingers danced along each muscle and began to tug at the waistband of Bam’s jeans.
“Wait,” Bam pulled back, panting for air. “Slow down.”
Ville nodded, his lips once more finding Bam’s in a sensual kiss. Their tongues caressed each other slowly, sending tingles down Bam’s spine and causing his back to arch upwards. Within seconds he found himself laying down on the bench, the biting cold of the cement stinging his flesh as Ville removed his own shirt and began rocking their hips together.
“I need you,” Bam whispered breathlessly as Ville’s lips attached themselves to his neck, butterfly kisses prickling at the flesh there. He felt the vampire nod in agreement, his icy hands running a path down his sides. Just as they once more took their place on Bam’s belt, the piercing cry of a cell phone startled both of them and caused Ville to stumble off the bench and onto the unforgiving ground.
“What the fuck is that?” he panted, eyes wide.
Bam looked at him apologetically, pulling the small phone from his pocket and flipping it open. “It’s my mom; I kind of have to take this…”
Ville nodded; a pout on his lips. He watched as Bam pressed a button on the plastic phone, the noise of a woman shouting filling the heated silence. Ville could make out the sound, but the words were muffled and unclear. Bam’s voice came through distinctly every few seconds, an argument on his lips but few words coming out as he was continuously cut off. After what seemed like hours, Bam angrily hung up the phone and tossed it to the side.
“Sorry about that,” he blushed, offering Ville his hand. The vampire took it thankfully, allowing the boy to pull him to his feet. “I hope that didn’t ruin the mood…”
“Well yeah, it did,” Ville smirked as Bam looked about ready for tears. “But I suppose we could start a new mood.”
As their lips once more collided, the vampire was shocked to find that Bam’s heart really wasn’t in it as before. The kiss was chaste and quick, both boys pulling away after only a few seconds.
“Actually,” Bam rubbed the back of his neck timidly. “I would really prefer it if we just…talked.”
“Talk? Where’s the fun in that?” Ville teased, one eyebrow raised playfully. When Bam only nodded, he got the point and sat back down on the bench. “Whatever you please.”
A bright smile flashed over Bam’s features, curiosity and happiness glowing in his crystal orbs. He wanted to talk, but he quickly realized that he had no clue what to say. How do you start a conversation with a vampire?
“So…uhm…” Ville once more cocked an eyebrow, waiting silently for the boy to continue. “What’s it like being a vampire?”
“‘What’s it like,’ eh?” he repeated. “What’s it like being a human?”
The question was simple, but Bam couldn’t find an answer to it. “Okay…then…” he began to search his memory for all of the little vampire facts that he had picked up from movies and television. “Is it true about stakes through the heart?”
“Of course it’s true,” Ville smiled. Bam was expecting that the movies would have gotten everything wrong. “Of course, a fork through the heart would probably kill us, too. Anything sharp can be dangerous, love.”
Bam laughed at the morbid joke despite himself and moved on to the next question. “What about crosses and holy water?”
“If I didn’t know better I’d say you were looking for a way to dispose of me,” Ville laughed harshly, his green eyes sparkling with amusement. Before Bam could protest, however, the vampire continued with his answer. “To proclaim that a cross will drive us away is to proclaim that God really exists. It all really depends on the holder and the vampire. If the person clutching the cross…or the holy water, truly believes in his or her faith than it can do damage. Also, if the vampire is a strong Christian-which, believe it or not, it does happen-then it will also work. The same applies for any religious artifact; it all depends on the person. Otherwise a cross is just a piece of wood.”
The overload of information sent Bam’s head reeling. He was expecting another simple answer, and was more than surprised by the lengthy one that was offered. He smiled, playing on Ville’s earlier joke. “I’ll have to keep that in mind, then. What about coffins? Do you really have to sleep in them?”
“Yes,” Ville sighed, his eyes scrunching up in momentary confusion. “Although, this was never quite explained to me. I don’t know why it is this way…but I have seen what happens to vampires who do not follow this set rule.”
“Oh,” again they fell into silence. Bam didn’t notice when Ville reached up and ran a finger over the swelling bruise on his cheek, no pain involved in the loving touch.
The vampire leaned in close, the movement of his lips against Bam’s ear sending a shiver down his spine. With half lidded eyes, Ville whispered, “Run away with me.”
Bam’s breath hitched in his throat at the simple request. “W-What?” he stumbled over his words, cursing his own shock.
“You heard me,” Ville whispered back, placing a soft kiss on Bam’s jaw-line.
“I-I can’t…” he began, but was quickly cut off as Ville’s lips once more found his. They shared a heated kiss, fevered and sharp, before Bam pulled away. One word slipped from his lips without hesitation, “Okay.”
*--===--===<><><><><><><><><><>-===--===--*
Sorry if that last part seems a bit rushed, it's probably a product of me listening to "Hall of the Mountain King" while writing it...
Sooooooo sorry about the delay. Work's been tough on me lately, and there's been hardly any time between working and sleep. But I've got it updated, so smile. =D
And I realized that I chose to update this story on the same day that several other people decided to update their VAMpire stories. *Groans* Will I ever escsape this repetitive curse?
Author: 616hasgotaname
Fandom: Music/VAM
Summery: Companion piece to “Kiss”. AU. Two people brought together by an undying love that defies the ages. One, a vampire with a bizarre need for camaraderie, the other a human ostracized from an unforgiving mortal world. Separately, they are powerless and lonely. Together they are unstoppable.
Disclaimer: I DO OWN VILLE AND BAM! I DON’T CARE WHAT YOU SAY! *cough* Yeah, they own themselves. This never happened (der), so don’t sue.
Rating: R to NC-17
Once again, this lovely banner was made by the amazingly talented annushkazhivago. Thanks again! <33
As always, links to "Kiss" and previous chapters behind the cut.
"Kiss"
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Hours passed in comfortable silence as they sat there, watching the moon drift across the virtually clear sky. As it made it’s decent toward the distant horizon, Bam felt Ville shift beside him-sitting up slightly as if to stand. Before he could, though, Bam placed a hand on his arm and held him in place.
“Where are you going?” he asked quietly, almost afraid to break the peace between them.
He smiled down at the boy, eyes twinkling in the dim light of the moon. “I have to leave before the sun rises, I don’t think you’d care to see what would happen if I didn’t.”
The morbid joke brought a smile to Bam’s lips, even though he was regretting their departure. “When will I see you again?”
The vampire didn’t hesitate to answer. “Tomorrow night, same place.”
It was simple and matter-of-fact. Bam nodded, knowing that there wasn’t a thing in the world that could make him miss the appointment. Of course he’d be there. He’d wait until the end of the world for this unique person who was practically a stranger to him.
Ville stood up slowly, trying to prolong their meeting for as long as possible, before placing a gentle kiss on Bam’s forehead and walking away. He seemed to glide rather than walk, drifting off into the shadows and slinking away without making a sound. It was eerie, but Bam found himself watching until he could see nothing but an empty cemetery around him.
He lay there for a moment, staring at the spot that Ville had recently occupied. The warmth was gone now, and he felt himself shivering as the night air wrapped around his body. A bird chirped in the distance, warning the creatures of the night of the sun’s arrival.
With a heavy sigh, Bam pulled himself from the ground and headed for the gate.
*--===--===<><><><><><><><><><>-===--===--*
His mother was more than annoyed when Bam finally crawled back home well after six a.m., prancing around the kitchen and declaring that she had been up all night waiting for him. He apologized quickly, knowing that there was no real excuse to offer, before giving her a brief hug and walking up the stairs. He could feel her frustration all the way to his room, thick and tangible.
Bam collapsed on his bed, exhaustion finally setting in as the night’s events raced around his mind. The anticipation for the next sunset was too much for him to bear. He wished that he could be with Ville right then, but he knew that it was hopeless dreaming.
Just hours ago he would have thought that the idea of him really being a vampire was absurd, that the man was just a whack-job with an overactive imagination. But not after tonight. No, now Bam was a true believer.
His fingers ghosted over the small puncture wound on his hip, lightly rubbing the abrasion through the fabric of his jeans. It stung a little, but the pain was minimal. He felt himself craving the bite, desiring the feeling of sharp fangs piercing his flesh as he cried out in absolute pleasure.
A moan that he wasn’t aware he was holding escaped his lips then, shattering the silence around him and causing him to jump. God, what the hell was he thinking? He shook his head, trying to clear away the dirty thoughts that were threatening to invade his imagination, and rolled over with a groan. His whole body felt sore. He needed some sleep. Clicking off the bedside lamp, he let his eyes slip closed before falling into dream land.
And that’s where he remained until seven o’clock that night. Bam was awoken by the sound of his mother crashing pots together angrily in the kitchen. Cooking was her specialty, something she did every night in order to keep some kind of family tradition alive despite the fact that their family was slowly growing apart. Bam understood why she felt the need to do such things, but at times it seemed as though she was putting up a front to hide the fact that they were your typical dysfunctional family.
That thought came to him once more as he made his way downstairs. Why did she even bother? There was no one there to witness what she was doing. There was no prize she got for making the best pot-roast in the neighborhood. Then why did it matter? Bam figured it was more for her own gain than anyone else’s, but he really had no clue.
April didn’t say anything to him as he sat down at the kitchen table, instead opting for shooting him the occasional scowl over her shoulder. She was still upset over last night, but Bam was sure she’d get over it soon. It didn’t take long before his brother Jess and his father walked in, taking their designated seats. No one spoke, a common occurrence at their dinner table, but Bam couldn’t help but think that it was because of him.
“Here we go,” April smiled as she placed a steaming crock-pot of food in the center of the table. The three men around her all grunted in approval before digging in.
Only the sound of silverware clanging against china could be heard for the next agonizing minutes, Bam’s stomach tying itself in a knot as he was expecting to be reprimanded for his night adventures. Sure enough, it came.
“So your mother tells me you didn’t come home until six this morning.” There was no room for argument as Bam watched his father continue to shove food into his gaping mouth, not even bothering to look up at his son as he spoke. “You’re grounded.”
Bam opened his mouth to say something, but realized that it wouldn’t get him very far. What was he going to do? He had to meet Ville tonight. Bam nodded and went back to eating his food, but suddenly he wasn’t very hungry any more.
“Can I be excused?” Best to put on the proper-child act for now, he figured.
Of course his father had to get the last word in. “Yes, but I want you to go straight to your room and I don’t want to see you again until school tomorrow.”
Bam nodded bitterly, biting back the venomous words he wanted so badly to spit at his father, before putting his plate in the sink and stalking up the stairs. He waited until his door was securely locked before letting out one loud, agonizing scream of frustration.
“God Fucking Dammit!” The curse words fell so easily from his tongue, no guilt rising up in him at the knowledge that he had just taken the Lord’s name in vein. The only thing he felt was pure, unadulterated frustration. He knew that sneaking out of the house was out of the question-they had lights that were motion activated and would go off whenever anyone stepped one foot on their property-and there was no way he could walk right out the front door. He was trapped. And Ville would be left waiting for him.
*--===--===<><><><><><><><><><>-===--===--*
The buzz of an alarm clock yanked Bam from his sleep what seemed like minutes later. Groaning at the increasingly annoying sound, he kicked at the contraption beside his bed until finally giving up and jerking it from the wall. Blessed silence flooded the room.
He was just about to fall back asleep when he the events of the night before rushed before his mind’s eye. He had left Ville waiting, he had forgotten about him. Jumping from the bed, Bam scurried to find a watch so he could check the time, his breath rushing from his lungs in uneven pants. However, he quickly realized that his endeavor was unnecessary when he saw the sun creeping over the horizon.
“Shit, fuck!” he cursed loudly, not bothering to form a proper sentence. He heard the heavy footsteps of his large father making their way toward his door, undoubtedly en route to wake Bam up. Seconds later there was a pounding at his door.
“Bam, get up-it’s time for school,” Phil’s voice thundered, a slight hint of anger accentuating his words.
“I’m up, Phil,” Bam called, molding his words in a way that he knew would piss his father off. “Leave me the fuck alone.”
There was silence for a moment before Phil answered with, “Watch your mouth. I’m driving you to school today, so make sure you’re ready in fifteen minutes. You’re going in early.”
Bam couldn’t suppress the groan that escaped his lips at his father’s words. He grabbed a clean pair of pants and headed for the bathroom, his mind still racing a mile a minute. By the time he was done washing and getting dressed, he still hadn’t come up with a conclusion for his little dilemma. His conscience felt as if it were being dragged down by heavy lead weights, the guilt of what he had done to Ville being too much to bear. He knew the mysterious man would wait for him all night.
“You almost done in there, boy?” his father’s voice snapped him from his mental rant.
“Yeah, yeah, yeah; I’ll be out in a minute,” Bam grumbled, quickly grabbing his backpack and heading for the door. Phil was waiting for him by the front door but no words were spoken as they walked out to the van that sat permanently in the garage. They were halfway down the street before his father decided to break the silence.
“Did you do all of your homework?”
“Yeah,” Bam lied. It was a mindless conversation, and he briefly wondered if his father considered this useless chatter as ‘bonding’. Phil said something else, but Bam wasn’t really paying attention. Rather, he was peering out at the cemetery as they drove past, trying to get any glimpse that the man from the other night was there. He came up empty handed though, as they quickly sped past.
They didn’t say their goodbyes as Bam climbed out of the van and into the throng of High School students. Bam breathed out a sigh of relief as he was finally released from the suffocating silence. It would be a long day, he could feel this already-but it was best to get it over with.
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Bam found himself cursing his luck by the end of the day. Seven classes of obnoxious teenagers and useless lessons later, he pushed his way outside and tried to make it home as quickly as possible. He needed to meet Ville that night, no matter what his parents had to say about it. However, fate seemed to have different plans for him that day.
“Well if it isn’t our dear old Bambi,” a mocking voice called from behind. Bam cringed at the knowledge that the one person he really didn’t want to run into had followed him out the door. Turning around sharply on his heel, he placed a cocky grin on his face and greeted Pete and his lackeys.
“I see you’re up for more, dick face,” there was no malice in his voice, only a spiteful laugh. This seemed to piss Pete off even more, as he shoved the books he held in his hands to the ground and stalked up to Bam. They were standing mere inches apart, Pete’s rank breath washing over Bam like a bad disease. Scrunching up his nose, Bam scowled, “Ever heard of breath mints?”
Before he could blink, Pete’s fists were grasped tightly around Bam’s shirt collar, easily lifting him a foot off the ground. The sudden movement took the skater by surprise, his skateboard clattering to the ground as he kicked in an effort to be released. Pete only constricted his grip, the cotton fabric of his shirt digging into the back of Bam’s neck. “You should know better than to talk to me like that.”
“Sorry, I must not have read the manual,” Bam rolled his eyes. His outward appearance read calm, but inside his heart was pounding. One hand let go of his collar and shot out toward his face in the form of a balled fist, landing squarely on Bam’s left cheek. Gasping at the sharp pain, Bam shoved Pete’s hands away and stumbled backwards.
“Consider it payment for last week,” Pete laughed, stalking off with his friends before Bam got the chance to retaliate. Cupping a careful hand around his face, Bam picked up his board and turned around.
“Fuck those stupid fuckers,” he grimaced, the pain in his cheek dying down to a slight throb. He was definitely going to have a nasty bruise there in a few hours. Suddenly a wave of determination washed over him, “I’ll get them back.”
Bam took the long way home, not wanting to talk to anyone he might see on the streets. Empty sidewalk paved the way like the yellow brick road as he turned down another nameless street, idly pushing his board beneath his coasting feet. It was nearly five o’clock when he finally spotted his house in the distance, the driveway empty except for Jess’s haggard old car. Quickly finding the spare key, he unlocked the door and headed straight for his room. If there was anyone home, he didn’t want to talk to them.
Throwing his empty backpack at the foot of his bed, Bam collapsed on the thick mattress and dug around beneath him for the remote to his CD player. Flicking on a random Abney Park album, he let the light techno music drift to his ears as his eyes slipped closed. He made the mistake of rolling over and burying his face into a pillow, the sharp stab of pain in his cheek draining him of any sleep he was planning on getting.
With a groan, he stood and walked to the bathroom to examine his face in the mirror. Sure enough, an angry looking bruise was forming in the shape of a half moon just below his left eye. Splashing some cold water on his face, he dug through the cabinets and pulled out a bottle of generic brand Ibuprofen and popped three of the pills-as satisfied grin spreading over his eyes as the pain dulled down.
As he made his way back to his room, Bam found that his hands were shaking-with anticipation or fear for the night ahead, he wasn’t sure. Running those shaking hands through his hair in an attempt to calm down, he glanced at the spot where his alarm clock should be but realized that it was still lying on the ground. He plugged the annoying contraption back in and reset the time using a watch on his dresser. Bam was trying to busy himself with mindless tasks, the night couldn't come quick enough, but there was nothing to be done and he quickly found himself growing antsy.
“Fucking ADD,” he scowled at his wall. Throwing his hands up in desperation, he meandered down the stairs in an attempt to find something to busy himself with. However, the house was basically spotless and one battery was missing from the TV remote. Cursing his luck for the second time that day, he decided to make some food.
The cupboards were basically empty, it was a wonder his mother managed to make meals for them out of the junk they had, but he found a can of Spaghettios and made quick work of throwing them in the microwave. Three minutes later, he realized he wasn’t very hungry and ended up tossing the full bowl in the sink for someone else to clean up.
“Fuck it, I’ll just leave now.”
Bam didn’t bother changing his frumpy clothes as he nearly ran out the front door, not slowing down until he reached the cemetery. The graveyard took on an entirely different feel in the light of day. It was less menacing, less gothic-more like a park than a house for the dead. The sun drifted down through the thick willow trees that speckled the land, casting a heavenly glow on the sleeping tombstones but still managing to draw out the dark shadows from beyond. It was almost surreal.
He took a seat on one of the many stone benches that line the pathway that ran through the center of the cemetery, watching as the day slipped to night. Birds grew silent as a soft wind brushed the tree branches, as if a beckoning warning to the creatures of the night that it was time to come out and play. Hours passed in peaceful silence as Bam lost himself to the night around him, his mind drifting to the point of shutting off. He was so spaced out that he didn’t notice it when someone sat down beside him.
“You didn’t show last night,” the soft voice snapped Bam from his thoughts, breaking the silence with a sharp clang. Turning to face the man that plagued his dreams and haunted his thoughts, a guilty smile pulled taut across his face.
“It was beyond my control,” he tried to apologize. The vampire only nodded in understanding, reaching out a cold hand to caress the younger boy’s face.
Ville cautiously eyed the sweltering bruise on Bam’s left cheek. “Where’d you get that?” he asked quietly.
“Some shit-for-brains at school,” Bam answered with a shrug, thankful that the vampire wasn’t upset with him for missing their previous date.
Ville bent over and softly nuzzled his face against Bam’s, his breath cold against the skater’s skin. He let out an almost inaudible laugh and smirked, “High School, I remember those days.” He appeared to be reminiscing-almost fondly, it seemed. Suddenly, his eyes grew cold, “I could have that taken care of for you, you know.”
“I don’t need anyone fighting my battles for me,” Bam pushed away defensively, quickly regretting his actions as a sad frown passed over Ville’s features.
“It’s not fighting your battles, more of…” Ville mumbled, searching for the right words. “No one should lay a hand on my property.”
The title sent a chill down Bam’s spine, but he ignored it and tried to change the subject. “How old are you?”
“Older than you,” Ville smirked, knowing that his vague answer would get on the boy’s nerves.
“Well, obviously,” Bam rolled his eyes. “But…you can’t be that old if you remember High School, right?” He wondered briefly if the question was too intrusive, but that thought left him as Ville smiled.
“True. I have not been a vampire long…” he said, almost to himself. “At least, not long by the standards set by other vampires.”
“Still, how old are you?”
Ville laughed at the boy’s determination. “I was turned at the age of twenty-seven, and I have only been a vampire for a little over forty years.”
Bam paused at the short number. He had expected to hear that the vampire was over a hundred years old and had traveled the world. He supposed he had been reading too much fiction as of late. “Wow…I wasn’t really expecting that one-”
He was cut off as Ville’s soft lips crashed into his own, pushing him back slightly as cold hands tangled in his hair. A gasp left his lips as the vampire pulled away slightly, his lips ghosting over the vein at Bam’s neck. “No more questions.”
A warm tongue darted out to trail a wet line down Bam’s neck, fingers absently playing with the collar of the skater’s shirt. Bam turned so he was straddling the bench, one leg on each side, as Ville leaned up on his knees and pulled his shirt over his head. Nimble fingers danced along each muscle and began to tug at the waistband of Bam’s jeans.
“Wait,” Bam pulled back, panting for air. “Slow down.”
Ville nodded, his lips once more finding Bam’s in a sensual kiss. Their tongues caressed each other slowly, sending tingles down Bam’s spine and causing his back to arch upwards. Within seconds he found himself laying down on the bench, the biting cold of the cement stinging his flesh as Ville removed his own shirt and began rocking their hips together.
“I need you,” Bam whispered breathlessly as Ville’s lips attached themselves to his neck, butterfly kisses prickling at the flesh there. He felt the vampire nod in agreement, his icy hands running a path down his sides. Just as they once more took their place on Bam’s belt, the piercing cry of a cell phone startled both of them and caused Ville to stumble off the bench and onto the unforgiving ground.
“What the fuck is that?” he panted, eyes wide.
Bam looked at him apologetically, pulling the small phone from his pocket and flipping it open. “It’s my mom; I kind of have to take this…”
Ville nodded; a pout on his lips. He watched as Bam pressed a button on the plastic phone, the noise of a woman shouting filling the heated silence. Ville could make out the sound, but the words were muffled and unclear. Bam’s voice came through distinctly every few seconds, an argument on his lips but few words coming out as he was continuously cut off. After what seemed like hours, Bam angrily hung up the phone and tossed it to the side.
“Sorry about that,” he blushed, offering Ville his hand. The vampire took it thankfully, allowing the boy to pull him to his feet. “I hope that didn’t ruin the mood…”
“Well yeah, it did,” Ville smirked as Bam looked about ready for tears. “But I suppose we could start a new mood.”
As their lips once more collided, the vampire was shocked to find that Bam’s heart really wasn’t in it as before. The kiss was chaste and quick, both boys pulling away after only a few seconds.
“Actually,” Bam rubbed the back of his neck timidly. “I would really prefer it if we just…talked.”
“Talk? Where’s the fun in that?” Ville teased, one eyebrow raised playfully. When Bam only nodded, he got the point and sat back down on the bench. “Whatever you please.”
A bright smile flashed over Bam’s features, curiosity and happiness glowing in his crystal orbs. He wanted to talk, but he quickly realized that he had no clue what to say. How do you start a conversation with a vampire?
“So…uhm…” Ville once more cocked an eyebrow, waiting silently for the boy to continue. “What’s it like being a vampire?”
“‘What’s it like,’ eh?” he repeated. “What’s it like being a human?”
The question was simple, but Bam couldn’t find an answer to it. “Okay…then…” he began to search his memory for all of the little vampire facts that he had picked up from movies and television. “Is it true about stakes through the heart?”
“Of course it’s true,” Ville smiled. Bam was expecting that the movies would have gotten everything wrong. “Of course, a fork through the heart would probably kill us, too. Anything sharp can be dangerous, love.”
Bam laughed at the morbid joke despite himself and moved on to the next question. “What about crosses and holy water?”
“If I didn’t know better I’d say you were looking for a way to dispose of me,” Ville laughed harshly, his green eyes sparkling with amusement. Before Bam could protest, however, the vampire continued with his answer. “To proclaim that a cross will drive us away is to proclaim that God really exists. It all really depends on the holder and the vampire. If the person clutching the cross…or the holy water, truly believes in his or her faith than it can do damage. Also, if the vampire is a strong Christian-which, believe it or not, it does happen-then it will also work. The same applies for any religious artifact; it all depends on the person. Otherwise a cross is just a piece of wood.”
The overload of information sent Bam’s head reeling. He was expecting another simple answer, and was more than surprised by the lengthy one that was offered. He smiled, playing on Ville’s earlier joke. “I’ll have to keep that in mind, then. What about coffins? Do you really have to sleep in them?”
“Yes,” Ville sighed, his eyes scrunching up in momentary confusion. “Although, this was never quite explained to me. I don’t know why it is this way…but I have seen what happens to vampires who do not follow this set rule.”
“Oh,” again they fell into silence. Bam didn’t notice when Ville reached up and ran a finger over the swelling bruise on his cheek, no pain involved in the loving touch.
The vampire leaned in close, the movement of his lips against Bam’s ear sending a shiver down his spine. With half lidded eyes, Ville whispered, “Run away with me.”
Bam’s breath hitched in his throat at the simple request. “W-What?” he stumbled over his words, cursing his own shock.
“You heard me,” Ville whispered back, placing a soft kiss on Bam’s jaw-line.
“I-I can’t…” he began, but was quickly cut off as Ville’s lips once more found his. They shared a heated kiss, fevered and sharp, before Bam pulled away. One word slipped from his lips without hesitation, “Okay.”
*--===--===<><><><><><><><><><>-===--===--*
Sorry if that last part seems a bit rushed, it's probably a product of me listening to "Hall of the Mountain King" while writing it...
Sooooooo sorry about the delay. Work's been tough on me lately, and there's been hardly any time between working and sleep. But I've got it updated, so smile. =D
And I realized that I chose to update this story on the same day that several other people decided to update their VAMpire stories. *Groans* Will I ever escsape this repetitive curse?