A/N: This is my first Tokio Hotel fiction, so I'm sorry if I haven't quite mastered the boys' personalities in my writing yet. Bare with me? Thanks so much.
Reviews are muchly loved!
Warning: This fiction is twincest, meaning it involves twins being intimate with each other, and not in that creepy twin telepathic way. If this is not your cup of tea then I suggest you back away quickly and run in the other direction. I don't need to read your opinions/flames if they don't have anything to do with my story or if they do have to do about me being a sick, twisted psycho. I'm already very aware of this fact so there's no need to point it out to me. Thank you very much, and don't say you weren't warned.
Summary: It's a little too hot, Bill is always Bill, and Tom worries a little too much over his emotions. ONESHOT.
Disclaimer: Tokio Hotel does not belong to me; trust me, because if they did, the twins would be doing a lot worse then this.
The bright sun was setting on the horizon behind the tall, dark buildings and the large, smudged hotel window. The empty room was flooded with warm, murky light, making the air appear thick, and physically moveable. It smelled of freshly washed sheets, and that unique hotel smell that is only found in big business hotels. There was a stain on the carpet that could have been identified as red wine or blood, but it was hard to tell due to how faded it had become. On the side wall laid two double beds, completely untouched and unoccupied, waiting for someone to find comfort in their stiff embraces.
All of this was disturbed when a beep and a reverberating click sounded at the door as someone slid their room key into the lock, and pushed the door wide open.
"Thank God! I thought I was going to die from a heat stroke out there." Bill whined, dumping his suitcase next to the bed nearest the bathroom, proceeding to then dump himself onto the bed. He bounced for a second before sinking into the firm mattress, his long, choppy, black and blonde hair splayed out on the comforter underneath his head.
Tom glanced at him, the corner of his lips twitching up into half a smile.
"What'd you expect? You're wearing all black." he said, pushing his own luggage next to the bed on the far end of the room. Slowly, he sat down with a sigh, pulling off his multiple head accessories to wipe the sheen of sweat from his hairline.
"So? You're wearing enough clothes for a small, Ethiopian family. You're not fat you know." Said Bill, rolling from side to side. Bill could never stay still.
"And you can hardly fit in yours. I don't know how the hell you breath in those damn pants." Tom retorted, pulling on a couple of dreads.
Bill lifted his upper lip in a half-hearted snarl.
"They fit me just fine, thank you very much."
"So do mine."
"Yeah, yeah. Fatty." Bill yawned out, turning his back to his brother, and shoving off his shoes, lazily.
Tom rolled his eyes, stripped off his overly large shirt, and threw it to the floor, exposing his toned, tan skin.
"M-gonna bathe. Do you need the bathroom?" Tom asked, kicking off his shoes and socks.
"No." Bill replied, curling into himself. Bill was in one of his sudden moods.
Everyone hated Bill's moods, even though they were used to them. They were manic, and most times unexpected, but everyone chalked it up to Bill just being Bill. Bill was an enigma; complex, beautiful, unique, and clearly a shining pearl amongst duller, and less shiny jewels. He was the one everyone wanted, the one everyone fawned over.
Tom left the room, closing himself away behind the bathroom door. His muscles ached from the non-stop bumps on the bus from potholes in the roads they traveled on, as well as from playing his guitar at the concert not but an hour ago. They would have been at the after party at that moment, but had decided to relax for a little while first. Gustav, and Georg had gone straight to the location with fans and groupies on their tail.
Tom groaned, sitting down on the cool edge of the tub, rubbing his hands over his face. He felt exhausted, sexually frustrated, and energetic all at once, and didn't know which one to deal with first. With a defeated noise he leaned over, turning the hot water on, and then the cold to even out the temperature. He knew that hot water was the best for sore muscles, but the heat would have been unbearable. Gradually, the cool water filled the large bathtub, welcoming Tom into its refreshing oasis. Swiftly, he tugged off the rest of his clothing, and quickly stepped into the tub, sighing in content as the cool waves lapped up against his tepid, and sticky skin. Tom filled his lungs with fresh air, blowing it out his nose as he sat down and descended beneath the water's surface, feeling his long dreads soak up the water and pull him deeper into the makeshift lake. He swore he could have felt steam rise above the water and blow through the air, and he immediately felt a thousand times better because of it. Tom's relaxation was shattered though when a sudden knock on the door caused him to shoot out from underneath his paradise. Water rushed down his face and chest, spilling back into the tub in a rushing waterfall.
"Tom?" came Bill's voice, from behind the door.
"What?" Tom answered, grabbing the bar of soap.
"Can I come in? I want to brush my teeth." Bill asked.
Tom noted the distant shyness in his twin's higher voice, but tried to ignore it.
"OK." he replied, grabbing a fistful of curtain and yanking it shut.
Tom heard the door click open and then heard Bill's feet padding softly across the cool, tiled floor. He'd always liked how Bill naturally walked light on his feet, barely making a sound even when he wore his clunky cowboy boots. It was something he was especially partial to when he had a killer hangover. Tom listened as Bill turned the faucet on, no doubtedly wetting his toothbrush. He listened as the bristles scraped across his teeth and gums, quick, brisk strokes and slow, steady ones when he neared his more sensitive, fleshy gums. Tom closed his eyes, hearing each motion deep in his eardrums, trying to decipher it, memorize it. He didn't question himself as to why he'd do such a strange thing.
"How'sh da bath?" Bill asked, around his toothbrush.
Tom grinned, stifling a laugh that bubbled up in his chest.
"Cold." He answered, running his spread fingers through the smooth liquid, forgetting all about the soap he'd let slip from his hand.
"Cold? Why is it cold? Is the heat broken? Bill asked, clearly this time.
"No. The heat's fine. I thought the cool water would be relaxing, but all it's doing is making my balls shrivel up." Tom exaggerated, around a grin his brother couldn't see.
Tom could almost feel his twin's eyes roll at his comment, but he heard Bill laugh and go back to brushing his teeth. Tom sucked in his lower lip, running the tip of his tongue over the metal in his flesh. He wanted Bill to be closer to him, wanted Bill to want to touch him, hold him, and caress his tepid skin until it burned. It was a want that made his head foggy, and caused his stomach to do somersaults in multiple directions all at one time. He knew it was sick because he felt the nauseous nag in the pit of his stomach when it got too close for comfort. But sometimes the nag wasn't there, and he felt at home in something that should have been far from it, something that shouldn't have existed in his mind or his memories.
Tom rubbed his face clean of any troubled expression it may have had, let out a complicated sigh, and opened the drain. The water no longer seemed welcoming.
"Bill, hand me a towel." he said, standing up and pulling his dreads over one shoulder to squeeze as much water out as he could.
"What's the magic word, Tomi?" Bill cooed, and Tom could see him dancing from foot to foot in his mind's eye.
"Or else I'll step out buck-naked, and you'll have to deal with looking at my dick?" Tom offered, his stomach tensing a little when he realized the answer might post a problem.
There was a pause of complete silence that made Tom's internal organs twist harder. He wished he could see his twin's face. Why was Bill taking so long to answer him? Had he left and not heard him go? What if he was waiting for Tom to actually step out naked? Why wasn't he saying anything?
Tom practically jumped out of his own skin when a hand suddenly appeared passed the shower curtain as Bill thrust a towel in front of his face. He sighed, and ripped it from his twin's decored hand, feeling his heart slow back down. He felt like he'd just gotten off a rollercoaster, and his face felt hot despite the cool water still surrounding his feet. Bill had hesitated, and that lone thought was burning an uncomfortable hole into Tom's brain, triggering questions he couldn't answer.
In a sudden, and fluid motion Tom wrapped the soft, white towel around his waist and pulled the shower curtain open, revealing an empty bathroom. Bill had let, and Tom hadn't even heard him open or shut the door because he'd been too engrossed in his own thoughts.
'Dammit.' he cursed, to himself, rubbing his face in frustration. He hoped he hadn't made Bill nervous, and quickly wrapped a towel over his dreads so he could walk out of the lonely bathroom.
Bill was there, sitting at the corner table near the balcony, his back facing Tom and his shoulders hunched over. He appeared to be doing something on the table, but Tom couldn't see what it was. He frowned, shifting his eyes from Bill to his suitcase for a moment before padding over to the suitcase to find something to wear to the after party.
To Tom, it felt tight in the room, like all the air was being slowly sucked out. Was it all in his imagination? Was he overreacting? Bill didn't seem upset or nervous, despite the fact he was vigorously occupying himself with something. Tom glanced over his shoulder as he tightened the belt around his waist, securing his pants so they wouldn't sag off of his butt anymore then they already did. He wanted to go to Bill, touch his shoulders and peer over them to see what he was going. He wanted to brush his cheek against its twin, and leave feather-light sensations all over Bill's smooth neck like they sometimes did late at night, in the protection of the darkness. The urge was almost too much to bare. Tom had to look away.
Bill grumbled something incoherent in the background, and Tom tried to ignore it by flopping onto his bed, and turning the T.V. on. Lazily, he thumbed through the channels, searching for anything that seemed remotely interesting, anything to keep his mind off of the tension surrounding his body. After about two minutes, he finally settled on a channel that had a high-speed car chase going on. The person driving had blown a back tire. He wouldn't last much longer. The sirens were hot on his tail, quickly closing in. tom sighed, scratching his bare stomach absently, feeling the muscles beneath his fingertips. Bill cursed again in his peripheral, only a little louder this time. Whatever Bill was going was giving him trouble, testing his patience, which wasn't exactly hard to do.
Tom squinted at the T.V., determined to ignore the noises Bill was making. The other back tired had blown out. He had no traction, no push. It was already over, even though he hadn't stopped; hadn't given up yet. Bill made another noise, even louder then before. He sounded as though he were a child who'd just gotten their favourite toy taken away from them for acting naughty. Tom closed his dark eyes, taking a deep, steadying breath, and sat up.
"Bill. What are you doing?" he asked, a feign of annoyance in his tone.
Bill turned in his chair, his lower lip jutted out in an adorable pout, and his thick, dark brows furrowed in a scowl.
"Trying to paint my right hand, and failing horribly at it." He answered, holding out his hand for Tom to see.
Honestly, Tom couldn't tell, but Bill could, and that's what mattered. Tom smiled, shaking his head at his twin's pouty expression and girly demeanor, and motioned for him to come closer. It was a relief that Bill didn't appear angry or standoffish about what he'd said in the bathroom.
"Bring it here." Tom said, moving off the bed to sit on the floor.
Bill grinned, looking giddy and innocent as he tightened the lid on his black polish, and bounced over to the bed, and his brother with it in hand. Gracefully, he plopped down onto the edge of the bed and held out his right hand as well as the polish towards Tom, who took both and began the tedious task of painting his brother's manicured nails. It was something he'd learned to do well over time, and something they'd both become accustomed to. It was a normal occurrence. Tom remembered the first time that Bill had asked him to paint his nails for him. It had turned out fairly disastrous, and Bill hadn't let him touch his nails for weeks after. But tom had continued to insist that he wanted to try again. So he got better, and Bill let Tom do his nails, enjoying sitting back and relaxing, watching his brother concentrate on keeping it on the hard nail, and not on his pale skin.
Bill kept the thoughts running through his head to himself. Especially the thoughts about how much he loved the way Tom sucked, and bit his lower lip in concentration or the way his callused fingertips sent shivers down every nerve ending every time he moved them against his palms. Bill's stomach fluttered with happiness at how worshipped he felt when Tom got down on the floor and attentively put energy into helping him look aesthetically pleasing to the eye. The way their fans worshipped him wasn't even half as satisfying as that.
"Thanks Tomi." Bill said, smiling in his naturally feline-like manor.
"You're welcome, Billy." Tom said, mocking Bill.
Bill would have shoved him, but he'd already messed his nails up enough. Instead, he leaned down, sticking his nose next to his hand. Tom lifted up the corner of his mouth in an amused smirk, but kept his focus on the nails. Bill grinned, and leaned in further, the strong smell of nail polish overpowering his senses. He looked at Tom's eyes and saw the light shimmer of liquid at the edges from the fumes. It made his eyes shimmer beautifully.
Tom was trying very hard to concentrate on Bill's long, delicate nails, but Bill was playing with him, purposefully making it difficult for him. It made Tom's stomach twist and jump, and Bill's face was getting incredibly close. Tom let out a loud breath out his mouth as he smiled, a little nervously.
"Bill… If you don't hold still I'll fuck this up." he warned, finishing up his ring finger.
"I am holding still." Bill whispered, in reply.
Tom shivered, and looked up, locking gazes with dark chocolaty orbs of beauty despite himself. Absently, he noticed a dark smudge underneath Bill's eye, and took the perfect opportunity in his talented grasp. Slowly, and seemingly innocently, Tom reached his hand up and cupped Bill's slender, defined cheek, pressing his thumb carefully to the high cheekbone, beneath his eye.
"You smudged your makeup, stupid." he said, rubbing the mark away.
Bill knew his game like the lyrics to one of their songs though, and saw right through to the true intentions beneath the gesture. Taking extra care not to smear his wet nails, he leaned forward, tilting his head just barely and bumped their noses together. Bill's eyes were locked on Tom's; both boys staring passed the surface to the souls burning deep within. What they shared was intense, they both knew it, they both felt it, and loved it wholeheartedly, even if it was a little off the charts for what could be deemed normal, or brotherly. They didn't care, because when it was only them, alone, together, nothing else mattered and no one else existed.
Tom's eyes fluttered as Bill's did, and he let out a gentle sigh of content when Bill's lips settled, feather-like, against his own. He was never prepared for how Bill's touch made him feel, even when he though he had it all figured out. He reveled in it, soaking up the sunshine that poured out of every one of Bill's orifices, letting his energy warm him down to every bone. Tom pushed up, catching Bill's lips in a feverish kiss, relishing in the tingles that spread over his lips into the rest of his skin. Bill pushed back, equally eager to feel tom's soft skin electrifying his senses. Instantaneously, they parted, then returned with increased passion and fervor, Tom's cool, metal lip ring bumping against Bill's lips. Bill groaned, pressing his tongue through his own lips to play with said lip ring. Tom parted his lips, all but melting into his brother's lap. He'd never admit to it, but he was undeniably wrapped around Bills slender, painted finger, and he knew just the right buttons to push to liquefy him. He couldn't help but smile as they came back together in a gentle, loving kissing before he pulled back, delicately, to gaze up into Bill's warm eyes.
"We're so late for the after party." Bill whispered, grinning.
"It's your fault. You and your stupid girl nails." Tom whispered back, his eyes smiling just as brightly as his brother's grin.
Bill stuck out his tongue, squeaking when Tom suddenly sucked it into his mouth, massaging the tip with his own. Bill moaned, quietly and opened up for Tom, letting him explore, letting him disarm his every weapon, and every wall. Bill pushed into his brother, engulfing his whole being as he kissed him almost desperately. In the back of his mind he remembered his brother's torso was bare, and immediately grabbed for it, sliding his smooth hands over his exposed chest, and back.
"Hey!." Tom said, suddenly pulling back with a loud smacking noise.
Bill faltered, his tongue stuck mid air with a dazed expression on his face for a split second before he replaced it with confused frustration.
Tom grabbed his arms, and set them in his lap, smirking.
"Don't mess up your nails, dumbass." he said, pulling away and standing up.
Bill frowned, a faint growl rising at the back of his throat, slowly melting into a pout.
"You didn't finish!" he said, almost whining as he gazed up at Tom with puppy dog eyes.
Tom shrugged, still grinning and turned to his suitcase, rifling through it until he found an appropriate shirt, then went about replacing all of his accessories without saying a word. Bill flopped onto his back, staring at Tom with all his might, trying to catch his attention, but to no avail.
"Toommii!" Bill whined, full out this time.
Tom situated his hat in the mirror, a twinkle in his eye, and then turned to face Bill, leaning against the wall.
"Tell you what… I'll finish it when we get back."
Bill cocked a shapely eyebrow, sitting back up and questioning Tom with his gaze. There had been more meanings behind his words, Bill could see it in his eyes.
"But then I wouldn't be able to use that hand for anything." Bill said, testing the waters with a hidden statement of his own.
Tom smiled, parting his lips to flick his shiny lip ring from side to side with his tongue. Bill swallowed the whimper that bubbled in his throat.
"Exactly." said tom, his voice low, and sultry, immediately sending shivers through Bill's body, the simple word that hung over him going straight to his groin.
"Promise." Tom replied, sealing the deal.
Bill flushed, grinning sheepishly, and bounced off the bed onto his feet. Tom watched his every movement, never leaving his figure even as he put the nail polish back on the table, 'fixed' himself in the mirror, and slid on over to where he was still leaning against the wall.
"Let's go, now." said Bill, grabbing Tom's shirt in his fist, pulling him towards the door.
Bill glanced over his shoulder, stopping with his hand on the doorknob. Tom's lip quirked up, a sly grin forming. Bill tried not to shiver.
"Aren't you?" he asked, feeling a little stupid.
Tom pressed himself up against his little brother's back, nuzzling his nose into his shoulder, pulling his long hair aside, away from his neck, revealing their band's world-renowned symbol. Bill couldn't hold back his shiver this time as Tom grazed his lips over the tattooed skin, leaving feather-light sensations that scattered through his nerves.
"Absolutely." he whispered, blowing hot air over him, and grinding once against his rear.
Bill giggled through a sigh, twisted out of his brother's grasp, and bounded out the door, bouncing playfully down the hallway.
"Hurry up, fatty!" Bill cooed, from a safe distance.
Tom rolled his eyes, closing the door behind him and shuffled after his twin.
"Shut up, Billy. I'm coming." Tom called, winking at him.
Bill flushed, and turned away, walking quickly toward the elevators, muttering incoherencies beneath a smile. Tom watched his hips sway a little femininely, and couldn't help but want to turn back around and lock them both in their room. Inconspicuously, he lowered his head and let out a catcall whistle. Bill twitched, but when he turned his head to look at Tom, his eyes burned exquisitely. Tom definitely couldn't wait till the party after the after party.