Fated Stars

Shirt in hand, Ville soon discovered the predicament he was in. While you may have had the luxury of ties and straps, he was trapped with the limits of masculine clothing.

His brows furrowed and his lips twisted into a pondering pucker. First twisted to one side of his face then to the other, as he thought of a resolution to his unavoidable situation.

Being two steps ahead of him, and well prepared for all matters Bam related, the only effective solution came to you quickly.

“Give me that.” You insisted, snatching the article of clothing from him and tossing it over your shoulder. Not giving him a chance to protest.

With a short distance between you and your suitcase, you shuffled through it’s revealing contents.

Slightly cautious, Ville propped himself up on his tip toes and peered over you, into your luggage. Amused by your rummaging and curious of your intentions.

Glad that Novak had not been smart enough to empty all it’s compartments, you retrieved a small pouch and tucked it under your arm.

"Um...maybe we should go into the living room and sit down. This might take a while" You suggested. Gazing at his face which was full of childlike wonderment.

Void of a more plausible plan, he agreed to your game of “follow the leader” and held his hand out to the door way, in a gentlemanly manner. Gesturing for you to exit first.

Now seated on the frumpy couch, you lay the shirt across your lay and placed the pouch on top of it. With a cigarette perched between his lips, Ville continued to sneak glances of your actions.

His head cocked to the side as he watched you undo the clasp of the small pouch you so highly treasured and slowly pull out it’s various contents.

To someone like Ville, or most men, a seam ripper, a well stocked pincushion, needle and thread must appear to be secret torture devices. At least that’s what he was clearly expressing. The cigarette nearly fell from his mouth.

"What are you going to do?" Ville questioned, raising both eyebrows.

Ignoring him, you picked up the petite seam ripper before going to work on the right sleeve of his beloved shirt.

"Hey! That's one of my favorite shirts." He declared, noticing the damage you were causing.

"I'm trying to help you.” You muttered in a soft tone.

A sour expression now planted firmly on his face, Ville sank into the worn sofa and sucked on his precious cancer stick.

After successfully removing the short sleeve, and exposing the upper shoulder of the damaged shirt, you tugged at Ville to lean closer to you. He may have still been confused, but he went along with your impolite gesture. He knew there was always a method to your madness.

"Here, now put it on.”

He displayed a look of bewilderment as his eyes darted back and forth between the ruined shirt and the seriousness decorating your face.

"Just do it." You said.

Grumbling, he did as told and slid the ruined piece of clothing on.

Once buttoned up, he gave a smile of embarrassed accomplishment.

“You look like a frat party victim. You laughed.

"This isn't funny.” He pouted, while doing his best to conceal himself with the loose fabric.

“You’d make a great damsel in distress. Maybe you can get Jussi to be your white knight.”

“That’s really cute.”

“Nah. On second thought, you’re better off with Jyrki. Seeing as he’s taller than you.”

“Karis” He whined.

“I’m just kidding.” You chuckled. “Now let me fix your top”

“Girls wear tops.” He stated, while standing to his feet, “Manly men wear shirts.”

He flexed his biceps in an animated attempt to display his gender.

“Ha ha. You’re going to be wearing a tube top in two seconds if you don’t stop squirming”

He roughly placed his hands at his sides. Much like a cartoon solider. He, unintentionally, jerked you closer to him. Causing you to temporarily stumble in the process, which exerted an evil eye from you.

Clearing your expression, you glanced at the sight before you. Your gaze was one of thought and intesity.

“What’s wrong?” He asked, noticing how you were eyeing him.

“I need to see how the shirt falls.” You stated.

Placing several pins between your plump lips, you tweaking the fabric, 'til it was to your liking and began placing the pins in the proper places.

“What’s your fascination with Jyrki?” He wondered out loud. No longer being able to contain or ignore the question.

“Huh?” You asked. Snapping out of your concentrated trance.

“Nothing. Never mind” He muttered, in hopes that you were too fixated to acknowledge his rambling.

A few moments passed. Satisfied with your work, you gestured to the sofa. Neither of you hesitated to take a seat.

"Okay now, unbutton it and take it off.” You instructed, now comfortable on the cushy couch.

"But it will get stuck on the chain.” He whined.

"I know. That's the point.” You whined back in a mocking manner. “Once you unbutton and take off your shirt it will turn inside out. Then I can sew it back together" You explained, while grabbing a needle and thread.

Biting his lip in bitter manner, he did as told and slid the shirt from his slender shoulders.

A silence filled the room as you began to stitch the two pieces of fabric back together. Your thoughts may have been focused on your threading, but Ville continued to bite his bottom lip. Dying to keep his curiosity to himself. However, it was no use.

“It’s his hair. Girl’s always love his hair” Ville blurted out.

“Jussi’s hair?” You asked, since he was the only hair related person that seemed logical.

“You like Jussi too?!” He nearly jumped from his seat.

“What?! You said girl’s always love his hair. He’s the person I can think of with really noticeable hair. What the hell are you talking about?” You questioned. Your faced twisted with confusion as you stared at the equally deranged face of Ville’s.

“Jyrki. You like Jyrki’s hair.” He clarified.

“I don’t know. It suits him, I guess.”

“So you don’t really like his hair” He stated. His brows furrowed.

“How much have you had to drink today?” You asked in a mixture of joking and seriousness.

“Not much” He answered with honesty.

A quiet air, once again, fell upon the room and you were more than thankful for it. No matter how uncomfortable you found it.

“It’s not his shoe size, is it?” He asked. Breaking the eerie silence once more.

“I thought you didn’t want to go there.” You smirked. Now it was becoming comical.

“I don’t” He grumbled. More mad at himself than you. It was simply a matter of his inability to stop his interrogation which annoyed him.

“Do you find him attractive?”

“Are you kidding? If I was deaf, dumb and blind I would still know how good looking he is.” You laughed.

Your eyes remained fixed on your work. It was a good thing too. If you had dared to gaze up at Ville, you would’ve gone cold from the ill expression on his face.

“What’s so wonderful about him? It really can’t be all about his height.” He snarled.

“No. It’s not.” You said to yourself. Chuckling on the inside.

“Then what is it?” Ville questioned with an intense curiosity.

“His eyes.”

“His eyes?!” He spouted.

“Yes. He has nice eyes. Like most Finns.” You replied.

“He has average eyes. No different from me.” Ville grumbled, wish for the freedom of his arms and the ability to cross.

“Wrong. You have anything but the usual Finnish gems.”

“So you’re really that much in love with his eyes?”

“Are you jealous?” You questioned with a surprised laughed.

“No.” He grimaced.

“Don’t worry, Ville. You’re still the prettiest pumpkin in the patch.

“Pumpkin’s rot.”

“So do men.” You stated.

“Women rot too.” He pointed out.

“Yeah, but we have more advantages than men. I mean, we can pretty much, get everything lifted. Including our boobs, ass and face. Men, on the other hand, can’t hide their balls dragging along the floor behind them.” You retorted.

“Then you’ve never heard of the nut bra.” He chuckled for the first time.

“Actually, thanks to Bam, I have.” You muttered, “But you still can’t hide it when naked.”

“Your thoughts are very disturbing.” He laughed.

“Yeah well, you have a lot of time to think about stuff when you’re locked in a closet.”.

“Bam put you in a closet?” He asked. Bewildered by the extremes his friend would go to.

“Many times. Especially during my numerous escape attempts.” You informed him. “Once he left me in there for so long that he forgot about me.”

“You’ve lost the fighter in you.” He teased.

“Trust me, Bam did not escape without battle scars. There’s a dent in the wall, next to the ground floor closet, in the shape of Novak’s head.” You said, while finishing up your handy work.

“You’re evil.”

“Yes. Yes, I am.” You smiled, “And you’re done.”

Admiring his beloved shirt, in it’s newly resorted state, he buttoned it up and grinned proudly.

“I did a good job.” He announced.

Rolling your eyes, you grabbed the pin cushion off the coffee table and reinserted the handy pins, before placing it back into the small pouch.

While you cleaned up after your tidy mess, Villed tugged at his sleeve. Closely examining it. He would soon be disrupted by the sounds of your stomach growling.

"Hungry, I take it.” He laughed.

"Yeah. All I've consumed in the past 48 hours was alcohol.” You replied.

"We'll have to make something.” He said, rising from the sofa.

With you in tow, Ville made his way through the tiny kitchen and to the fridge. Any hopes of cooking were dashed by the bareness of the icy metal shelves.

"How do you survive?" You joked.

"I order in a lot.” He replied.

Ordering was the only thing you could do. At this point, you didn’t care where from or how crappy the food might be. You wanted food and you wanted it now.

While Ville ordered the food, you busied yourself by reading a day old news paper, which you had plucked from the coffee table.

Several pages passed your gaze as you flipped through them. While you usually ignored the gossip columns, a particular image caught your gaze. The adjoining headline nearly made you choke on your own breath.

The image was of a man and woman passionately kissing. You noticed how she bared a striking resemblance to the girl in the photo which Ville so proudly displayed in his apartment. You figured it must be Jonna. However, the man on her arm was not Ville.

A photo of a depressed looking Ville had been pasted to the corner of the image. To add insult to injury the headline read "Can’t Get No Satisfaction"

It was bad enough to see a Rolling Stones reference next to such a disgusting display, but the blatant attack on Ville’s stamina made you cringe.

Stealing a brief glance at Ville, you realized he had nearly finished placing the order. Not wanting to pour salt in his possible wounds, you crumpled up the paper and stuffed under a near by pillow.

“What are you doing?” Ville asked, while hanging up the phone. Obviously aware of your hasty actions.

“Nothing!” You insisted, scooting from your spot. Now sitting atop your special hiding spot. "How long is it gonna take?"

The intent to change the subject was painted all over your face. How you prayed he would not press the subject.

“Half a hour" He answered, in a weary tone.

"But I'm hungry now" You pouted.

"Were just gonna have to find something else to do in the mean time" He replied.

You crossed your arms over your chest and pouted. Soon, an idea popped into your head and an evil smile came to your face.

“I got it!” You declared. Jumping from your seat and heading toward the bedroom.

"I don't like the look on you" He said. A bit concerned, while trailing after you.

Walking over to the bed, your smile only got bigger when more dementated thoughts ran through your mind.

Pulling Ville next to your smiled only got bigger.

“Let’s have sex.” You stated, shoving him down on the bed.

”What?!” He exclaimed upon landing on the mattress. Next to your suit case. “But I have a girlfriend”

“Yeah, yeah. Quit yapping and get your pants off.” You demanded, before climbing on to the bed and straddling him. “I got condoms.”

Leaning over him, you began rummaging through a suitcase. He watched your search until your busy motions had to a halt. With a firm grasp, you snatched your hidden treasure and pulled it from your suitcase. It remained clutched in your hand as you held it to your chest.

“This can’t be real.” He mumbled.

“Ville, I’m just kidding. Or did you not know that?” You questioned with perked eyebrows, at you stared down at your thighs.

Ville’s gaze followed your’s. It was then he realized that his hands hand come to rest on your outer thighs.

“You know, you really should need have your head examined.” He hissed, ripped his hands from you.

Probably. Anyway, I got a better plan.” You said. Grinning like a Cheshire cat.

“Karis, do you know about karma?”

“All to well.” You grumbled.

Finally revealing the contents within the palm of you hand, you waved the bright, sparkly, prize in front of the poor man, who’s eyes widened with fear.

"What are you planning on doing with that nail polish?" He questioned, nervousness surfacing in his voice.

"Paint some nails. What does it look like?" You replied, scrambling off the bed.

It was a short trek to the living room, but it seemed to last forever with a reluctant Ville in tow. However, you had gained a victory once you had plopped back down on the sofa.

"Exactly, who's nails do you plan on painting?" Ville asked, a tad bit worried about your reply, as he too returned to his spot.

"Mine" You said.

A sigh of relief escaped his lips when your words rang through his ears.

"Then yours" You finished.

"No!" He protested, "No way am I walking around with sparkly polish"

"Oh, come on. You told me to find something to do and this is it. Unless you want to go back to bed with me.” You joked.

"Why, exactly, does your distraction have to involve me wearing bright red nail polish?" He whined.

"Because it's fun. Besides, look at all that fucking make up you wore for the "Join Me" video." You stated.

"That was the director's idea, not mine. Anyway, there is no way I'm gonna let you paint my nails blood red" He said, in a firm tone.

"It's not blood red. It's candy apple red." You said, in a small, child like, voice.

His dirty looks and sour expressions were of no use. No matter what he did there was no erasing the mischievous glint in your eyes.

"It doesn't matter what color it is. I'm not gonna let it happen." He declared. His voice was still firm and commanding.

You pouted and began to think of a way of convincing him, but that didn’t last long. Living in a house full of boys, you knew exactly how to get what you wanted. There was nothing easier than stroking the male ego.

"Alright, I guess I was wrong." You said, while shaking the bottle, before opening it.

You began painting your fingernails, while Ville tried his best to ignore your comment. He knew you were trying to bait him, but refused to give in. Or at least he tried.

"About what?" He asked.

"Huh?" You replied, finishing your last finger and moving on to your toes.

"What were you wrong about?" He questioned.

"Oh, nothing. I just thought you were not only man enough, but comfortable enough with your own sexuality, to pull off wearing make up and polish." You said, in a nonchalant manner.

"I'm man enough." He proclaimed, in a defensive manner.

"Okay." You agreed Your voice made it sound like you didn't have much faith in him.

Now you had finished one foot and had moved on to the other.

"No really, I am." He insisted, trying to convince you.

"If you say so" You responded. It was becoming incredibly hard, not to smile. Your plan was working perfectly.

You kept your focus on your last few toes. You didn't even bother looking at him. For fear of breaking out in a fit of laughter. You were done with your toes, and began closing the bottle back up, before placing it down on the coffee table.

"I'll prove it."

That had caught your attention. You took a deep breath, before lifting your head, and looking him directly in the eyes.

"And how do you intend on doing that?" You asked.

"I'll let you paint my nails." He muttered.

"What?" You pressed, with raised brows.

"I'll let you paint my nails." He repeated, in a much louder tone.

A giant smile came to your face. You picked up the bottle and reopened it.

"Give me your hand." You instructed, while holding out your own.

He placed his unchained hand in yours and sighed..

"You planned this, didn't you?" He asked, with a sly smile.

"Sure did." You answered. Now letting the smile display itself, freely, across your face.

He just laughed to himself, for the situation he was in and watched as you carefully painted his nails.