The Regency
Title: The Regency
Rating: PG
Summary: Bam and Ville acting in a movie set during the Regency.
Additional: Ah, yes, my very last Vam fic. Now, I don't understand why their character names are the same as their own? Try and, uh, work past that.
"Brandon, why do you insist on drinking all the good scotch?"
Brandon looked from his game of billiards. He frowned on his friend, his fingers drumming angrily on the edge of the table.
"You have cellars full of bottles. Call for another one if yours is empty."
"Such a shame, my friend, that even drunk and in gay company you're still the typical sullen American." George grinned, none too sober himself, and nudged another friend. "What do you think Ville? Is it time we tuck our dear Bammie-boy in for the night."
Ville smirked at the American, though his eyes were bright in anticipation. He chuckled when George toppled over into his lap, his glass flying across the room.
"I believe It is. With a name lik 'Bammie' can't imagine he'll put up much of a fight."
"Yes, yes, you would think so, but this one-" George pointed in the general direction of Brandon, "has got Irish in him. Scotch is their fuel!"
Abandoning his game, to the complaint of his opponent, an increasingly irritated Brandon stalked out of the parlor. The door slammed shut loud enough to sober of The Prince Regent for a moment.
"I say, that man has the worst temper-" George cried out when Ville dumped him rather unceremoniously back into his seat. "You Swedes are no better!" His face was pressed into the padded back of the chair, and because of his position Ville laughed.
"How many times must I remind you I'm Finnish?"
George seemingly imitated a drunk monkey as he scrambled around to face Ville while still in the chair. "Lies, all lies. Russia's got you now."
"Do I speak Russian?"
"It's all backwards to me, my good man!" One of their friends appeared with two more bottles of whiskey and hastily began filling empty glasses. George cheered and handed one to Ville, who saluted him as they drank. After another half hour had gone by Ville bade his companions good night. Protests went up around the room as he made his way to the door, calling out for "The Most Finnish of Swedes" to stay for another round. He smiled, grabbed his black jacket from the chair he'd hung it on, and departed. Though not before George stumbled out of his chair, glass held high, and bellowed "To the Regency!"
"I thought you weren't coming tonight."
Ville undid the button of his double breasted waist coat silently, depositing it on the floor near the foot of Brandon's bed. The rest of his clothes followed suit. As he slid under the covers he said "Your lack of faith astounds me, my love." Brandon grunted in return. Ville slid up against him, running his hand down his lover's muscular thighs.
"Can't be blamed. You were enjoying yourself."
"It's an important day. We're celebrating George's Regency. This should mean everything to you."
"Don't doubt that his traitorous British ass won't come knocking down our doors if Melissa hears of this."
Ville kissed Brandon's neck and pressed his forehead against his shoulder. He smelled of pine and very slightly of the stables. "You went hunting today?"
"Mhm. I'm beginning to suspect there is someone releasing rabbits around the grounds. Those idiot dogs of George's couldn't find their own back-ends if their lives depended on it."
Ville smiled, his eyes closed as he imagined Brandon flailing his crop at one of George's hounds. Then his mind went to Brandon in hunting gear, his legs encased in snug deerskin-
"Not tonight, Ville."
"Tonight would be optimal. The party could very well last from now until tomorrow afternoon." When Brandon didn't answer Ville rolled him over. Brandon kept his eyes trained on something over Ville's shoulder, but he couldn't hide the sadness in them.
"What troubles you, Bam?" His pet name got the man's attention, and he sat up.
With his hands rubbing at his temples Bam whispered, "I'm leaving in two days. I'm needed for a series of meetings on military action against British troops in Canada. They are causing-"
"Do they find it impossible to manage anything without you?"
"I can't very well refuse to go! Don't you-"
"How long have you known?"
Bam sighed, leaning back on the headboard. The ornate carvings dug into his flesh.
"A long time, I take it."
"I received the letter two weeks ago."
"Time enough to make arrangements to accompany you, had I known."
Bam snorted. "Oh yes. I come back to Pennsylvania with a Finnish-Hungarian aristocrat who has no reason to leave his court let alone cross the Atlantic, other than to stay with an unmarried general already notorious for having wild male friends."
"You needn't put it so."
"On top of that you're a dandy if ever there was one. We'd be ridiculed, if not spied on." Bam's breathing became heavier. He'd been mentally preparing himself for the moment he'd have to leave Ville; it was harder than he'd anticipated. "I can not go back to that Ville. I have lived under their scrutiny and cruelty before. Regardless of my position they will drive me out."
"They?"
Bam's pause stretched on too long, and Ville huffed.
"Cut! Better than before guys, but come on Bam, you're killing me! It's a one word line!" The lights in the room were turned on, the crew around them came to life as they went for a break or checked out the numerous equipment. A makeup artist, Lola, if Ville remembered correctly, came over to dust finishing powder on his forehead.
"Thanks." he slipped into a robe she handed him and sat crossed-legged on the bed. Bam was arguing with Saul, their director.
"I was waiting for emotional build-up!"
"I told you the most you should go is five seconds."
Bam whirled on the Finn. "Ville, am I right?"
"No, I'm gonna go with Saul on this one. Wait too long and you're going to get giggles instead of moving anyone."
Bam threw up his arms in exasperation. "What do you know anyway? You're a musician!"
"Therefore I have a very good idea of how timing and sound affects people." Saul nodded in agreement.
"We don't have a lot of time left, Bam. We're really stretching every dollar we have. I don't even want to think about promotion-" Saul cut himself off and extended a hand to take Ville's robe. "Last take. I've cut you slack because of inexperience but I've given all I can. Ville, you were prefect, try and keep it in the same vein." The director motioned for the lights to be turned down. "We're taking it fro 'How long have you known'."
Abby, holding one of those click-y black and white things, said "The Regency, Take four."
"Go ahead Ville."
Rating: PG
Summary: Bam and Ville acting in a movie set during the Regency.
Additional: Ah, yes, my very last Vam fic. Now, I don't understand why their character names are the same as their own? Try and, uh, work past that.
"Brandon, why do you insist on drinking all the good scotch?"
Brandon looked from his game of billiards. He frowned on his friend, his fingers drumming angrily on the edge of the table.
"You have cellars full of bottles. Call for another one if yours is empty."
"Such a shame, my friend, that even drunk and in gay company you're still the typical sullen American." George grinned, none too sober himself, and nudged another friend. "What do you think Ville? Is it time we tuck our dear Bammie-boy in for the night."
Ville smirked at the American, though his eyes were bright in anticipation. He chuckled when George toppled over into his lap, his glass flying across the room.
"I believe It is. With a name lik 'Bammie' can't imagine he'll put up much of a fight."
"Yes, yes, you would think so, but this one-" George pointed in the general direction of Brandon, "has got Irish in him. Scotch is their fuel!"
Abandoning his game, to the complaint of his opponent, an increasingly irritated Brandon stalked out of the parlor. The door slammed shut loud enough to sober of The Prince Regent for a moment.
"I say, that man has the worst temper-" George cried out when Ville dumped him rather unceremoniously back into his seat. "You Swedes are no better!" His face was pressed into the padded back of the chair, and because of his position Ville laughed.
"How many times must I remind you I'm Finnish?"
George seemingly imitated a drunk monkey as he scrambled around to face Ville while still in the chair. "Lies, all lies. Russia's got you now."
"Do I speak Russian?"
"It's all backwards to me, my good man!" One of their friends appeared with two more bottles of whiskey and hastily began filling empty glasses. George cheered and handed one to Ville, who saluted him as they drank. After another half hour had gone by Ville bade his companions good night. Protests went up around the room as he made his way to the door, calling out for "The Most Finnish of Swedes" to stay for another round. He smiled, grabbed his black jacket from the chair he'd hung it on, and departed. Though not before George stumbled out of his chair, glass held high, and bellowed "To the Regency!"
"I thought you weren't coming tonight."
Ville undid the button of his double breasted waist coat silently, depositing it on the floor near the foot of Brandon's bed. The rest of his clothes followed suit. As he slid under the covers he said "Your lack of faith astounds me, my love." Brandon grunted in return. Ville slid up against him, running his hand down his lover's muscular thighs.
"Can't be blamed. You were enjoying yourself."
"It's an important day. We're celebrating George's Regency. This should mean everything to you."
"Don't doubt that his traitorous British ass won't come knocking down our doors if Melissa hears of this."
Ville kissed Brandon's neck and pressed his forehead against his shoulder. He smelled of pine and very slightly of the stables. "You went hunting today?"
"Mhm. I'm beginning to suspect there is someone releasing rabbits around the grounds. Those idiot dogs of George's couldn't find their own back-ends if their lives depended on it."
Ville smiled, his eyes closed as he imagined Brandon flailing his crop at one of George's hounds. Then his mind went to Brandon in hunting gear, his legs encased in snug deerskin-
"Not tonight, Ville."
"Tonight would be optimal. The party could very well last from now until tomorrow afternoon." When Brandon didn't answer Ville rolled him over. Brandon kept his eyes trained on something over Ville's shoulder, but he couldn't hide the sadness in them.
"What troubles you, Bam?" His pet name got the man's attention, and he sat up.
With his hands rubbing at his temples Bam whispered, "I'm leaving in two days. I'm needed for a series of meetings on military action against British troops in Canada. They are causing-"
"Do they find it impossible to manage anything without you?"
"I can't very well refuse to go! Don't you-"
"How long have you known?"
Bam sighed, leaning back on the headboard. The ornate carvings dug into his flesh.
"A long time, I take it."
"I received the letter two weeks ago."
"Time enough to make arrangements to accompany you, had I known."
Bam snorted. "Oh yes. I come back to Pennsylvania with a Finnish-Hungarian aristocrat who has no reason to leave his court let alone cross the Atlantic, other than to stay with an unmarried general already notorious for having wild male friends."
"You needn't put it so."
"On top of that you're a dandy if ever there was one. We'd be ridiculed, if not spied on." Bam's breathing became heavier. He'd been mentally preparing himself for the moment he'd have to leave Ville; it was harder than he'd anticipated. "I can not go back to that Ville. I have lived under their scrutiny and cruelty before. Regardless of my position they will drive me out."
"They?"
Bam's pause stretched on too long, and Ville huffed.
"Cut! Better than before guys, but come on Bam, you're killing me! It's a one word line!" The lights in the room were turned on, the crew around them came to life as they went for a break or checked out the numerous equipment. A makeup artist, Lola, if Ville remembered correctly, came over to dust finishing powder on his forehead.
"Thanks." he slipped into a robe she handed him and sat crossed-legged on the bed. Bam was arguing with Saul, their director.
"I was waiting for emotional build-up!"
"I told you the most you should go is five seconds."
Bam whirled on the Finn. "Ville, am I right?"
"No, I'm gonna go with Saul on this one. Wait too long and you're going to get giggles instead of moving anyone."
Bam threw up his arms in exasperation. "What do you know anyway? You're a musician!"
"Therefore I have a very good idea of how timing and sound affects people." Saul nodded in agreement.
"We don't have a lot of time left, Bam. We're really stretching every dollar we have. I don't even want to think about promotion-" Saul cut himself off and extended a hand to take Ville's robe. "Last take. I've cut you slack because of inexperience but I've given all I can. Ville, you were prefect, try and keep it in the same vein." The director motioned for the lights to be turned down. "We're taking it fro 'How long have you known'."
Abby, holding one of those click-y black and white things, said "The Regency, Take four."
"Go ahead Ville."