Maiden and Priest were the gods that we praised...
Bam was having trouble sleeping.
He kept tossing and turning and punching his mattress into different shapes…nothing worked.
He even tried sleeping on the couch. That did nothing either.
Then the kitchen table. That had given him nothing but a horribly sore back and a horribly surly disposition.
*
This is where we find him now…sitting at that same table, eating his breakfast of marshmallow cereal with a scowl planted firmly on his face.
“You could just buy a new bed,” his mother suggests.
Bam rolls his eyes. “Do you have any idea how long that would take? And how much work it would be?” he whines at her.
April snorts. “You’d think it’d be worth it for at least one night of decent sleep.”
Bam glares. “It is…I just think there’s a better solution.”
And so he starts to sleep on people. Particularly, his friends.
Ryan’s chest is too hard and his shoulder is too soft, or so Bam says when he complains.
Raab drools on the top of his head too much.
Rake’s hair keeps getting in his mouth.
Brandon keeps saying random things in terribly random voices and waking him up just when he’s comfortable.
And Novak…is just Novak. No one dares to sleep on him. He might die before they wake up.
He almost finds a good bed in Johnny Knoxville…but then he makes the mistake of actually falling asleep on top of him…and wakes up with his hair dyed pink and lipstick circles on his face.
He makes him pay, but needless to say, there isn’t any more sleeping on Johnny.
*
So here he sits, slumped on the couch and about ready to try the bathtub or the pool or somewhere else absurd, when the ring of the doorbell interrupts his thought process.
Glaring at thin air as though the sound is there, he stalks over to the door and throws it open. “What?”
A pair of long, spidery arms wind their way around him and a low, accented voice he recognizes above all others squeals, “Bammie!”
He can’t help but smile as he holds Ville close, pressing his head into his friend’s shoulder as the older man strokes his hair.
“Hey, Willa. What’re you doing here so early? I thought we said Tuesday.”
Ville pouts. “You wanted me to wait until then?”
Bam laughs, pulling Ville into his arms again and bending up to kiss his cheek. “Of course not, Vil. I’d rather you were here every day…but the tour…”
Ville waves his hand dismissively. “Oh tour, shmour, I wanted to see you now!”
Bam sighs because he thinks he knows what’s going on. “Ape told you about my problem.”
Ville gently touches his cheek. “’Fraid so, love. So have you solved it yet? Have you slept?”
Bam nuzzles into Ville’s fingers and shakes his head miserably. “Not a damn wink.”
Ville smiles. “Why don’t you lay on me?”
Bam looks up, surprised. “You’d let me lay on you? Just because I can’t sleep?”
Ville shrugs. “Well, yeah. I mean, it’s not like you’ve never fallen asleep on my shoulder before, right? Maybe that’s what you need.”
Bam smiles slowly, bouncing a little bit excitedly as he drags Ville over to the couch and gently pushes him onto the cushions, immediately lying down and getting comfortable.
His legs entwine with Ville’s and his arms rest lightly on his friend’s stomach, holding him close as he sets his head on Ville’s shoulder and closes his eyes…
*
Ville looks down with a tender smile, brushing a curl back from Bam’s forehead as he snores quietly, sleeping peacefully on top of him.
“Sweet dreams, sweetheart,” he says softly, kissing the younger man’s forehead, then shifts as carefully as he can, and closes his own eyes to fall into the same dreamland Bam is in.
***
One, two, three...AWWWWWWWWW. Happy now? Happier, at least? I know Quiet Desperation and Ville's death sucked, but...there's this. ^^ I love you all! Comments are love! :D
He kept tossing and turning and punching his mattress into different shapes…nothing worked.
He even tried sleeping on the couch. That did nothing either.
Then the kitchen table. That had given him nothing but a horribly sore back and a horribly surly disposition.
*
This is where we find him now…sitting at that same table, eating his breakfast of marshmallow cereal with a scowl planted firmly on his face.
“You could just buy a new bed,” his mother suggests.
Bam rolls his eyes. “Do you have any idea how long that would take? And how much work it would be?” he whines at her.
April snorts. “You’d think it’d be worth it for at least one night of decent sleep.”
Bam glares. “It is…I just think there’s a better solution.”
And so he starts to sleep on people. Particularly, his friends.
Ryan’s chest is too hard and his shoulder is too soft, or so Bam says when he complains.
Raab drools on the top of his head too much.
Rake’s hair keeps getting in his mouth.
Brandon keeps saying random things in terribly random voices and waking him up just when he’s comfortable.
And Novak…is just Novak. No one dares to sleep on him. He might die before they wake up.
He almost finds a good bed in Johnny Knoxville…but then he makes the mistake of actually falling asleep on top of him…and wakes up with his hair dyed pink and lipstick circles on his face.
He makes him pay, but needless to say, there isn’t any more sleeping on Johnny.
*
So here he sits, slumped on the couch and about ready to try the bathtub or the pool or somewhere else absurd, when the ring of the doorbell interrupts his thought process.
Glaring at thin air as though the sound is there, he stalks over to the door and throws it open. “What?”
A pair of long, spidery arms wind their way around him and a low, accented voice he recognizes above all others squeals, “Bammie!”
He can’t help but smile as he holds Ville close, pressing his head into his friend’s shoulder as the older man strokes his hair.
“Hey, Willa. What’re you doing here so early? I thought we said Tuesday.”
Ville pouts. “You wanted me to wait until then?”
Bam laughs, pulling Ville into his arms again and bending up to kiss his cheek. “Of course not, Vil. I’d rather you were here every day…but the tour…”
Ville waves his hand dismissively. “Oh tour, shmour, I wanted to see you now!”
Bam sighs because he thinks he knows what’s going on. “Ape told you about my problem.”
Ville gently touches his cheek. “’Fraid so, love. So have you solved it yet? Have you slept?”
Bam nuzzles into Ville’s fingers and shakes his head miserably. “Not a damn wink.”
Ville smiles. “Why don’t you lay on me?”
Bam looks up, surprised. “You’d let me lay on you? Just because I can’t sleep?”
Ville shrugs. “Well, yeah. I mean, it’s not like you’ve never fallen asleep on my shoulder before, right? Maybe that’s what you need.”
Bam smiles slowly, bouncing a little bit excitedly as he drags Ville over to the couch and gently pushes him onto the cushions, immediately lying down and getting comfortable.
His legs entwine with Ville’s and his arms rest lightly on his friend’s stomach, holding him close as he sets his head on Ville’s shoulder and closes his eyes…
*
Ville looks down with a tender smile, brushing a curl back from Bam’s forehead as he snores quietly, sleeping peacefully on top of him.
“Sweet dreams, sweetheart,” he says softly, kissing the younger man’s forehead, then shifts as carefully as he can, and closes his own eyes to fall into the same dreamland Bam is in.
***
One, two, three...AWWWWWWWWW. Happy now? Happier, at least? I know Quiet Desperation and Ville's death sucked, but...there's this. ^^ I love you all! Comments are love! :D