Status: Discontinued.
Sleeping Beauty: A Modern Retelling
Part Three
The steps toward the gallows started at the skate park Bam and the court favored. Ville and Jonne stood on the hill overlooking it, smoking and watching the chariots flying and spinning and landing. Sometimes perfectly, sometimes not. The only time Bam faltered was when his eyes landed on Ville. He recognized the dark clothes against the pale skin instantly. It lead to a scraped elbow, but in no way ended the day.
On top of the hill, Ville smirked at the mistake. Jonne sighed, glancing from Bam to his friend. This would not end well; it never did. When Ville fell for someone he never showed it the way a normal person would, with kind words and kisses on the cheek and presents for no reason. He fought with them, fucked them, and left them. Jonne always teased that he was lucky that Ville thought he was too pretty to date. Jonne’s broken heart always required stitches and a hangover remedy.
They left the hill when Bam started walking up it, Ville’s hand not-so-discreetly grabbing Jonne’s ass.
_____________________
Bam and Ville had history class together, Bam’s obvious inattention on one side and Ville’s scowl on the other. But despite the separation of desks and continents, Socialite blood is drawn to it’s kind. When the teacher chose partners for a project, they were paired. Blood’s a bitch.
“Quit staring at my ass.” Ville said without looking behind him. He had a cigarette in one hand and the thumb of his other hooked in his jeans pocket.
“I am not!” Bam snapped indignantly.
“Then why the fuck are you walking behind me? Don’t stare at my ass unless you plan on giving me a piece of yours.” Ville turned for the first time, his green eyes seeming to stare deep into Bam’s soul. “And don’t try and deny it, Blue. You’re pure-blooded gay.”
“Don’t get your hopes up.” Bam said, brushing past Ville.
“You don’t even know where I live.” Ville said calmly.
“You rent out a room at the McKinley house. You’re not the only one who knows stuff.”
“Just because your mother cuts Jonne’s hair . . .”
Bam smirked as Ville’s long legs quickly caught up to him. “Just because your boyfriend talks his mouth off.”
“Jonne’s not my boyfriend. He’s a regular fuck. When you get pubic hair, you’ll understand the difference.” Ville exhaled his smoke into Bam’s ear, causing him to flush slightly.
_____________________
Ville pulled Bam’s hair again. The younger snapped. “Are you going to fucking help me with this? Because I can do this at home if you’re just going to hit on me all night.”
“Don’t get your panties twisted.” Ville lit his third cigarette in a quarter of an hour. “You’d just be going home to starch your sheets. And I have to do laundry anyway.”
Bam’s blue eyes turned to Ville for the first time since he opened his textbook. “I’m not gay.”
“That’s because you haven’t been fucked yet. When you think about guys while you jerk off, you’re gay. Don’t deny it because it won’t work. Every closet queer I’ve met ended up in my bed, so you might as well take your shoes off.”
“No.” Bam turned back to his book. “Don’t be so sure of yourself. Now help me with this project or I’m leaving.”
Ville shrugged and rolled onto his back. “I don’t know anything about American History. I’m Finnish.”
Bam closed the book with a snap and moved to stand up, but Ville caught him around the waist, bringing their lips crashing together. There was no response on Bam’s end, no return of the kiss and no pulling away, but as Ville continued the deadly assault of lip gloss and second hand smoke Bam slowly responded. His history book was knocked off the bed and he was pulled tight to Ville.
_____________________
“Does it always hurt like that?”
“Only your first few times unless you’re not prepared enough.” Ville offered the other boy a cigarette, which he declined. “Or if the other person goes too fast. Just like straight sex, I suppose.”
“How’d you know I was adopted?” Once again Bam displayed his talent for changing any conversation into another with a question.
Ville stared at the ceiling, exhaling. “Jonne sees things. He sees people’s secrets. Sometimes he can see other things. It all started on a night we took acid.” Another drag of the cigarette, smoke floating upward. “He knew you were adopted. The night we took the drugs he knew my sister died.”
“When did you take the drugs?”
“A few weeks before we left home. He couldn’t stop thinking so we went to a party to score. We did and now pretty boy’s got some fucking sixth sense.” He looked at Bam. “You don’t believe me.”
“I have to. There’s no other way you could have known I’m adopted.” He hesitated. “Could Jonne tell me who my mom is?”
“Of course not. He’s not some fake Tarot card reader. He’ll be back soon.” It was an afterthought.
“Do you have sex with Jonne when you have a boyfriend?”
“You ask too many questions.”
“You smoke too much.”
Ville exhaled in Bam’s face.
_____________________
Bam and the court sat with Jonne and Ville on the grass at lunch the next day. Bam and Ville sat opposite each other while Jonne’s head lay on Ville’s shoulder. He seemed too shy to look at anyone due to the cut on his cheek. Nobody asked how it happened.
“There’s a party at the lake this weekend.” Ryan said. “You guys going?”
“Dad’s weekend.” DiCamillo said.
Novak didn’t bother to answer, everyone already knew he was going.
“I’ll go.” Ville said. “Jonne can drive. He doesn’t drink. Are you going, Blue?”
“Where’d ‘Blue’ come from?” Jonne asked quietly.
“He has blue eyes.” Ville said. “You feeling all right, pretty boy?”
“My face hurts.” Jonne murmured.
Bam stared hard as Ville’s hand gently cupped Jonne’s chin, his index finger lightly tracing the cut. “Worse than yesterday?”
“No.”
“It’s getting better then.”
Bam lowered his eyes as Ville’s gaze drifted from Jonne’s face. He was capable of gentleness. Obviously there was a bastard child that had contaminated the Finnish Socialite blood. “I’ll go this weekend.”
Ville smiled. Jonne didn’t.
On top of the hill, Ville smirked at the mistake. Jonne sighed, glancing from Bam to his friend. This would not end well; it never did. When Ville fell for someone he never showed it the way a normal person would, with kind words and kisses on the cheek and presents for no reason. He fought with them, fucked them, and left them. Jonne always teased that he was lucky that Ville thought he was too pretty to date. Jonne’s broken heart always required stitches and a hangover remedy.
They left the hill when Bam started walking up it, Ville’s hand not-so-discreetly grabbing Jonne’s ass.
_____________________
Bam and Ville had history class together, Bam’s obvious inattention on one side and Ville’s scowl on the other. But despite the separation of desks and continents, Socialite blood is drawn to it’s kind. When the teacher chose partners for a project, they were paired. Blood’s a bitch.
“Quit staring at my ass.” Ville said without looking behind him. He had a cigarette in one hand and the thumb of his other hooked in his jeans pocket.
“I am not!” Bam snapped indignantly.
“Then why the fuck are you walking behind me? Don’t stare at my ass unless you plan on giving me a piece of yours.” Ville turned for the first time, his green eyes seeming to stare deep into Bam’s soul. “And don’t try and deny it, Blue. You’re pure-blooded gay.”
“Don’t get your hopes up.” Bam said, brushing past Ville.
“You don’t even know where I live.” Ville said calmly.
“You rent out a room at the McKinley house. You’re not the only one who knows stuff.”
“Just because your mother cuts Jonne’s hair . . .”
Bam smirked as Ville’s long legs quickly caught up to him. “Just because your boyfriend talks his mouth off.”
“Jonne’s not my boyfriend. He’s a regular fuck. When you get pubic hair, you’ll understand the difference.” Ville exhaled his smoke into Bam’s ear, causing him to flush slightly.
_____________________
Ville pulled Bam’s hair again. The younger snapped. “Are you going to fucking help me with this? Because I can do this at home if you’re just going to hit on me all night.”
“Don’t get your panties twisted.” Ville lit his third cigarette in a quarter of an hour. “You’d just be going home to starch your sheets. And I have to do laundry anyway.”
Bam’s blue eyes turned to Ville for the first time since he opened his textbook. “I’m not gay.”
“That’s because you haven’t been fucked yet. When you think about guys while you jerk off, you’re gay. Don’t deny it because it won’t work. Every closet queer I’ve met ended up in my bed, so you might as well take your shoes off.”
“No.” Bam turned back to his book. “Don’t be so sure of yourself. Now help me with this project or I’m leaving.”
Ville shrugged and rolled onto his back. “I don’t know anything about American History. I’m Finnish.”
Bam closed the book with a snap and moved to stand up, but Ville caught him around the waist, bringing their lips crashing together. There was no response on Bam’s end, no return of the kiss and no pulling away, but as Ville continued the deadly assault of lip gloss and second hand smoke Bam slowly responded. His history book was knocked off the bed and he was pulled tight to Ville.
_____________________
“Does it always hurt like that?”
“Only your first few times unless you’re not prepared enough.” Ville offered the other boy a cigarette, which he declined. “Or if the other person goes too fast. Just like straight sex, I suppose.”
“How’d you know I was adopted?” Once again Bam displayed his talent for changing any conversation into another with a question.
Ville stared at the ceiling, exhaling. “Jonne sees things. He sees people’s secrets. Sometimes he can see other things. It all started on a night we took acid.” Another drag of the cigarette, smoke floating upward. “He knew you were adopted. The night we took the drugs he knew my sister died.”
“When did you take the drugs?”
“A few weeks before we left home. He couldn’t stop thinking so we went to a party to score. We did and now pretty boy’s got some fucking sixth sense.” He looked at Bam. “You don’t believe me.”
“I have to. There’s no other way you could have known I’m adopted.” He hesitated. “Could Jonne tell me who my mom is?”
“Of course not. He’s not some fake Tarot card reader. He’ll be back soon.” It was an afterthought.
“Do you have sex with Jonne when you have a boyfriend?”
“You ask too many questions.”
“You smoke too much.”
Ville exhaled in Bam’s face.
_____________________
Bam and the court sat with Jonne and Ville on the grass at lunch the next day. Bam and Ville sat opposite each other while Jonne’s head lay on Ville’s shoulder. He seemed too shy to look at anyone due to the cut on his cheek. Nobody asked how it happened.
“There’s a party at the lake this weekend.” Ryan said. “You guys going?”
“Dad’s weekend.” DiCamillo said.
Novak didn’t bother to answer, everyone already knew he was going.
“I’ll go.” Ville said. “Jonne can drive. He doesn’t drink. Are you going, Blue?”
“Where’d ‘Blue’ come from?” Jonne asked quietly.
“He has blue eyes.” Ville said. “You feeling all right, pretty boy?”
“My face hurts.” Jonne murmured.
Bam stared hard as Ville’s hand gently cupped Jonne’s chin, his index finger lightly tracing the cut. “Worse than yesterday?”
“No.”
“It’s getting better then.”
Bam lowered his eyes as Ville’s gaze drifted from Jonne’s face. He was capable of gentleness. Obviously there was a bastard child that had contaminated the Finnish Socialite blood. “I’ll go this weekend.”
Ville smiled. Jonne didn’t.