Author's Note: I do NOT own Tokio Hotel, Myfly, Moulin Rouge and or any peoples or properties associated with them. This is for entertainment purposes only and is for non-profit. This story contains slash if you don't like, please don't read. It also contains adult situations that may not be appropriate for all audiences. If you feel as if you are one of those people please go read something else.

This said; I have warned you multiple times and it's your own fault if you get offended or something like that. Peace!

"Knock, Knock!" Potts chimed as he let himself into Bill's dressing room the next night.

"Come in Andrew!" Bill called from behind his dressing screen happily. "I'm just finishing up changing."

"Bill…" Potts started nervously as he came in and shut the door behind him, "I have something to tell you; about the deal with Mr. Listing."

"Oh yes, congratulation. I heard he's fronting the whole financial side of the project." Bill cheered as he come out from behind the screen in an all white corseted outfit.

"Yeah, well, you see Bill. As generous as his offer is, it's not without payment in return. You see, for us to get what we want we have to give him what he wants and what he wants well…" Potts sat down at Bill's vanity and laid his head down on the cool marble. "I don't quite know how to say it Bill." Potts admitted forlornly.

Bill rolled his eyes at Potts and pushed Potts over so he could begin his daily make up regiment. "Stop being a drama queen and just tell me what it is Andy. It can't be all that bad."

"But it is Bill." Potts fretted; his head shooting up from the surface of the table, "It's horrible; what I've agreed to. And all for the sake of my own selfish interests. What have I done?" Potts moaned and placed his face in his hands; attempting to hide from the world that was closing in around him. "Oh, Bill, how could I have done this to you?"

A sense of dread began to fill Bill, "What have you done?" Bill whispered in calm fear.

Potts turned his head to look at Bill; his voice wet and dark, "He wants you Bill. And not as just a one night deal. He wants you and he wants you like someone wants a dog from the pound. He's playing for keeps."

A faint tremble began to crawl across Bill's body as horror and anxiety swept over him. "What?" Bill gasped as he stood up.

Potts looked up at him, "I'm so sorry. I wasn't thinking. I just…" Potts couldn't finish the sentence and instead moved his fingers through the air in a motion that Bill knew as Potts' signature.

"You…" Bill stammered and put a hand to his stomach. His corset was too tight, he couldn't breath. "You already signed… without me." No matter how much he tried, Bill couldn't get enough air in his lungs. He was suffocating.

Hearing Bill's struggle for air, Potts got to his feet and swept over to him, "Bill are you ok?"

"Ok?" Bill hyperventilated and tried to force a cruel laugh, "He asks if I'm ok. Oh God!" Leaning over to grab his dresser for support, Bill began to claw at his top. It was too tight, everything was too tight. The world was closing in and darkness was clouding the edges of Bill's vision. Everything was moving too quickly. And then Bill was falling and plush carpet suddenly felt incredibly soft on Bill's face.

"Help! Someone please Help!" Potts yelled somewhere off in the distance.

People rushed into the room. Bill could vaguely recognize the voices of Fletcher and Potts squabbling and the noise made Bill's head spin. And then there was a calming voice in his ear and strong arms picking him up.

Looking up at his rescuer, Bill tried to manage a smile at his savior, "Tom…" But stars and white spots were starting to invade his head space again and before he could finish his thought the world went black. _

Bill's eyes fluttered open to early morning light shimmering in through an open window. Agitated by the annoyance, Bill tried to resituate himself into a more comfortable place on the mattress. However, he was held firmly in place by the iron like grip of a pair of arms twined around him.

Blinking, Bill began to put together the pieces of the night before. His mind only catching glimpses of Tom rushing him out of the brothel and down the street to the urgent care. He remembered the way Tom talked to him the entire time. The soothing feel of Tom's hand on his back as Tom helped support him as they put an I.V. in his arm. And, after Tom had yelled at Potts about something, Tom had carried him all the way back to Tom's place. He was sure there had been more to it, that there had been a reason for his collapse, but his memories were fragmented and interrupted by shiny bits of black out.

It was like trying to piece together a puzzle at the nursing home; handfuls of pieces were missing or had been eaten up and Bill could only get a rough idea of what had really happened. But his musing was cut short by the shifting of the warm body wrapped around him and he looked up just as Tom's eyes were fluttering open.

"Morning." Bill chimed.

"Mmhmm." Tom groaned back and raised his arms above his head for a full body stretch. The movement finally allowing Bill freedom from the vice like arms and allowing for Bill to sit up at look around the place they were in.

Bill stifled a grimace at the state of living quarters Tom was inhabiting; but looking back at Tom he chose to forget it and just focus on the great expanse of sun-kissed flesh before him.

Laying back down, Bill kissed Tom's chest and laid his head upon the rise and fall of Tom to listen to the quickening of Tom's heat beat.

Tom sighed contently and began to play with Bill's hair as it washed over him like a sea of ink. "How are you feeling?"

"All better, I think." Bill cooed.

"You sure? Because I don't want to have to carry you to the hospital again. I mean, I don't have a car and you're a lot heavier then you look." Tom teased. Bill responded by playfully slapping Tom's peck. "Hey watch it, you don't want to bruise the merchandise do you?"

Bill stuck out his tongue and once again flashed his tongue stud at Tom before once again settling on Tom's chest.

They stayed there for a while, basking in their togetherness. Tom running his long fingers across Bill's bare back as they both flirted with the idea of going back to sleep but neither really committing to it.

The sun rose higher and the need for food and the bathroom began to make it's self known. After they took turns in the small bathroom, Tom solved the food situation with a loaf of day old French bread and Nutella. Licking and nibbling at each other's chocolate covered fingers, they fed each other and found sustenance in not only the food but in being close.

Around noon, Fletcher and the boys dragged themselves into Tom's room; brining instruments and a set of mismatched chairs with them to make a circle around Tom and Bill's mattress for the group to jam in. They laughed the day away; singing and playing whatever music came to them at the time. Bill and Dougie chatted about people at work while their men challenged each other to one contest of strength after another. If Harry won at push-ups, Tom would challenge him to sit ups to which Bill and Dougie were avid fans and thus the cycle was unending unless Fletcher and Danny put an end to the madness and made them work.

The fun came to a pause around dinner time. Dougie and Harry wanted to have alone time together before Dougie went to work and Danny managed to lure Fletcher away from talking Bill's ear off with the promise of a nice dinner somewhere. Leaving Tom and Bill, who still hadn't made it out of their pajamas the entire day, alone and sprawled across the bed; lazing in the warm afternoon sun like cats.

"So what happened exactly?" Bill wondered as he sat up and stretched his back.

"What happened last night you mean?" Tom asked for assurance.

"Yes," Bill affirmed as pulled at Tom so Tom would sit betwixt his legs. "I don't remember much. Andrew came in and told me something and then everything gets fuzzy. It's like trying to watch a movie while you're really drunk. You only understand half of it."

Tom chuckled softly and maneuvered himself according to Bill's wishes until his head rested back against Bill's chest. "Do you remember them cutting you out of that fancy corset? That was kind of fun." Tom asked in a purr reserved for the sensation of Bill's talented fingers making their way into his thick dreads and rubbing his scalp.

"They did what?" Bill shrieked, yanking on Tom's dreads.

"Shit!" Tom cursed in pain, "It was constricting your ability to breath. I think it was a worthy casualty."

Bill pouted, "But that was one of my favorites."

"How about this," Tom compromised, his eyes straining to look behind him at Bill, "When the band gets big, I'll buy you one just like it. I'll buy you as many as you want."

"Really?" Bill murmured softly but hopefully


"Oh Tomi!" Bill sighed as he wrapped his arms around Tom and hugged him tightly.

Tom laughed and tried to reach behind him the best he could to return the hug. Meanwhile, Bill's head had found it's way to Tom's neck and it inspired Bill to begin kissing and nibbling at Tom's neck playfully.

"MMMH! Baby, that feels so good." Tom moaned; his head rolling back and his eyes falling shut.

Bill's hands, spurred by Tom's response, began to snake their way down Tom's chest to the rim of Tom's boxers as he continued to assault Tom's neck.

"Baby," Tom groaned, "As much as I would love for you to continue this… I think we should… ah finish the conversation we were having before." Tom's mind and half hard on hoping Bill wouldn't listen to him.

"Oh yeah!" Bill piped, lips and hands disappearing so quick it caused Tom a wipe lash of sensation.

"Ahh, OK, so what do you remember?" Tom asked, still not sure what he was feeling.

"I remember getting dressed," Bill started while his hands began to work their magic on Tom's scalp again. "And Andrew walked in, that's Potts' first name, anyway he walked in and told me something about the brothel being turned into a real club, but he had agreed to something… something really bad. It had something to do with me and Mr. Listing, right?"

Suddenly the bubble of happiness that had been keeping Tom's mood afloat popped and his eyes slowly slid open to reveal heated anger behind his eyes.

"What is it Tom? What happened?" Bill pressed.

"He sold you. Potts; the bastard sold you to Listing. You're his exclusive plaything from now on. That's what he came to tell you." Tom growled; sitting up and pulling away from Bill's reaching hands.

Bill started to shake once again, this time in confusion, "What, why?"

Tom kept his gaze on the mysterious stain on the hard wood floor, "Because that's what Listing wanted. You. And he was willing to give Potts whatever he wanted for it. So Potts agreed."

"Oh," Bill murmured and pulled his legs up against his chest, trying to hide within himself.

Sensing Bill's withdrawal Tom turned and crawled to Bill's side, "But he can't do that can he? He can't sell you because he doesn't own you. You can't sell something that isn't yours, right?"

Bill lifted his head to stare at Tom with sad wet eyes that were all the answer Tom needed to that question. "But that means… that he… how could he?"

"Andrew owns me, Tom. It…it was a long time ago. I was barely 13 at the time. My mom was a junkie and needed money for drugs. Andrew was her dealer at the time. It was before the brothel, before Andy had everything really and my mom couldn't pay for the drugs with cash, so she made a deal with him, sold me to him. Just so she could get her fix." Bill rattled the story off like it was out of some story book he had had as a kid; like it wasn't his story at all.

"And for awhile it was great. Andy took care of me and made sure that I had food and a place to sleep and he bought me nice clothes. I thought that for once that there was someone who really cared about me. But when I was 17 everything changed. Andrew got the club off some low life pimp for real cheap and he wanted to turn it into a night club, a dive bar really where I could sing and he could sell drugs in the back room. And it was that way for a few months and we always had a crowd when I sang. But we weren't making any real money.

"Well, come to find out that it was because they were all trying to get into my pants. And so Andrew asked me one night if I would sleep with one of the audience members for moeny. He made it sound like it was just one time and I couldn't say no because Andrew controlled me, he was my owner. But then that one time became another time and another until people were only coming to the club to sleep with me. And so I just went with it and learned how to make the most out of it. Andrew hired more boys and more girls and it all just came together I guess. But he always wanted the club to become a club again. Like it was at the beginning. And now that can happen."

Tears were flowing freely from Bill's eyes and Tom pulled him into his arms. "What are we going to do Tom? I don't want to go back! I don't want to belong to him."

"Then don't go back. We'll run away and go somewhere where Potts and Listing can't hurt you, where they can't find you." Tom whispered into Bill's hair as he held onto the shaking man tighter.

"But what about Fletcher and the band? If I don't the band won't get to play and I'll never get another chance to be a singer if we're on the run." Bill pointed out sniffling, "Fletcher and everyone will get beaten if not worse. I have to go back Tom. I have to or they'll come after you and Fletcher and they'll track us down and they'll kill you…"

"Bill," Tom stopped him, taking Bill's face into his hands, "Bill, listen to me, no matter what. No matter what happens, we'll make it through because we have each other. Because I love you Bill, and all you need is love. We'll make it through whatever they throw at us, because come what may, we have each other, right? And someday I'll rescue you. I promise. I'll take you away from here. And it'll be just you and me. I promise." The air between them was thick and they shared each others breath as they rested their foreheads against one another in a tight embrace.

"Make love to me, Tom." Bill begged in a whisper, "Make love to me one more time before we have to go back."

"You're wish is my command." Tom murmured back.

And so the lovers lived this way. The brothel closed and the new stage started to be built. During the day Georg would call upon Bill for dates and other things and each time a band rehearsal was conveniently scheduled on the spot by Tom or Fletcher. And when events with Georg could no longer be avoided, Tom was always clever enough to snag an invitation in the name of promoting the band. And to make matters worse, most days Georg would arrange to be at rehearsals and watch the progress of his investment as well as keep an eye on his Bill. Because during the day, Bill was his.

But at night, Bill was Tom's. The pair existed in Tom's decrepit apartment and lived a pleasure live that revolved around each other and the music they created there. But after awhile Bill refused to spend one more night on the sinking mattress that was there and instead ordered his king sized bed removed from the brothel's storage locker and relocated to Tom's. And together they spent their time there in requited ecstasy as they made love to one another. Learning and memorizing the contours and lines of each other's flesh in ways they had never known.

Fingers tangled in sheets and lips locked in a passion play neither knew the end to but were always striving for. In this way they belonged to each other.

And when they wrote songs, they spoke to each other in the hidden ways they had learned by moonlight. In their songs they could speak to each other during the daylight hours in the secret tongue they had created at night.

"Rescue me?" Fletcher read as he looked over the chords, his gaze shifting between Tom and Bill like he knew what the title really meant. "Whatever, you two are crazy."

"Thank you!" Bill bubbled as the guitars picked up and began the song.

"This used to be our secret. Now I'm hiding here alone. Can't help but read our names on the wall

And wash them off the stone. I trusted you in every way. But not enough to make you stay. Turn around. I've lost my ground." Bill would sang at rehearsal on the newly constructed stage.

Bill sashayed about the stage like the rock star he always wanted to be as Tom's fingers ran like fire over the strings of the brand new guitar Bill had picked out for him. The phrase, "I will not be seen on stage with you if you don't have a guitar that is as good looking as me." stood out in Tom's mind as he strummed along to Bill's taunting lyrics.

"Come and rescue me. I'm burning, can't you see. Come and rescue me. Only you can set me free. Come and rescue me. Rescue me; Rescue me." Bill's lyrics were the hidden message Tom had written for Bill to let him know that no matter what, Tom would always be there to catch Bill as he fell; to rescue him from the fire.

"The walls are coming closer. My senses fade away. I'm haunted by your shadow. I reach to feel your face. You're not here. Are you here? Come and rescue me. Rescue me."

And every time Bill sang the words, he couldn't prevent himself from looking at Tom; could not stop himself from drawing closer to him in an attempt to reach out and hold onto the person he sang to. And as Georg sat and watched each days rehearsal, he too began to feel some of the true meaning in the words Bill crooned.

"Come and rescue me. I'm burning, can't you see. Come and rescue me. Only you can set me free. Come and rescue me. Rescue me. You and me. You and me. Rescue me. You and me. Set me free. Rescue me"

"You see Mr. Potts, there appears to be something going on between my Bill and the guitarist, this Tom Kaulitz. And although I understand the need for rehearsals to be frequent since we open in only a month now. I do feel as if my time… has been rather wasted." Georg informed Potts.

The pair were once again in Potts office and once again Potts was in a very uncomfortable position. "I'm afraid, Georg, that there is little I can do about Bill's involvement with members of the band. We want the best show possible and the more they practice, the better they will get, am I right?"

Now Georg was a very understanding man, but he was not one that liked other people playing with his toys. "Potts, I don't give a shit about the success of this shitty band. I do however care about the happiness of my things. And Bill just so happens to be one of them. I agree, he seems very happy when he is practicing with the group of miscreants and that is exactly my point."

"Which is?" Potts asked nervously

"They are making him happy and not me!" Georg spat as he stood up and grabbed Potts' collar; pulling him across the desk and into spitting distance, "I should be the one he is fawning over not some impoverish guitarist with unwashed hair! He is mine and I have paid a lot of money for him! Now I don't care what you have to do, but if things don't change regarding Bill's attitude toward my advances and toward the unkempt musicians he frequents himself with I will have nothing to keep me from destroying everything I have built here. Is that understood?"

Potts' eyes were wide and his hands were shaking in fear. "Ye…" Potts tried to stammer in reply.

"What was that? If you can not understand these simple instructions perhaps I need to have Gustav come in here and show you exactly what I do to people who don't listen to instructions." Georg threatened.

"NO! No, no! I understand. Please don't call Gustav!" Potts begged desperately.

"Then what are you going to do about our situation?" Georg snarled, his nails ripping slightly into Potts' horrendous paisley button up.

A few hundred cheesy scenarios flashed through Potts' brain before he could fumble with a solution, "I'll… ehh.. I'll set up a privet dinner for you and Bill in our most romantic suite. I'll make sure that the guitarist is no where near there. You'll have Bill all to yourself. I promise!"

Georg took a moment to think about the option before letting Potts go with the same sweet and sour smile on his face he had given Potts before. "Wonderful. Make it happen. And remember, if this doesn't go as planned, Gustav won't just be having a conversation with you, but also with a few other of your people. Have a nice day." Georg cheered as he exited the office.

Potts collapsed in his chair, deeply shaken and troubled. After a few deep breathes, Potts looked down at the front of his shirt to see imprints from Georg, "God damn it! Now I have to get a new shirt!"

Tom sat in his apartment plucking at chords in no apparent pattern other then it gave his fingers something to do and distract him from the fact that Bill was late. Harry and Dougie were holed up in the corner smoking and the sticky sweet smoke was filling the air with haze.

"What did Potts say he had to talk to Bill about, Dougie?" Tom finally asked after taking turns between fretting with his lip ring and biting his nails for about twenty minutes.

Dougie shrugged, "I don't know. Probably something to do with Mr. Listing. He's been hanging around a lot more lately hasn't he?"

"Yeah," Tom worried, "It's fucking hard enough trying to keep my hands off of Bill all day let alone not look at him in the wrong way."

Harry laughed, "It's a good thing you wear those baggy pants too, because I swear, you look like you pop a boner at regular Bill induced intervals every time we play Rescue Me."

Dougie laughed and Tom tried not to blush too much, "Hey shut up! Bill's hot and it's not like he makes it easy on me. Always bouncing around in those tight ass pants."

"Tight ass!" Dougie snorted, receiving a love tap to the back of the head from Harry.

Tom rolled his eyes and smiled. "I just wish I knew where that tight ass was."

Fortunately, a moment later an exhausted looking Bill plastered himself to the window on the door to the apartment. After Fletcher and the band had attacked the door on Tom's first day the land lady had put a work order in for a new door. Unfortunately the door that replaced the busted one had a pretty four paned window in it and Bill had had to make a set of lacey white curtains for it out of the remnants of his corset.

Bill looked in through the window and gave Tom the look. It was code for, you better tell anyone else in the room to leave because I'm going to attack you when I manage to get the door open. The only other time Harry had ever seen the look before he had taken longer then 45 seconds to vacate the room and had been witness to the beginning of the rather sad end of a set of sheets Tom and Bill wanted to break in.

Spurred by that particular memory, Harry quickly stood up, threw Dougie over his shoulder and slipped out the door just as Bill managed to turn the difficult knob and open the door. Dougie yelling and waving his fingers at Bill as they retreated up the stairs, "Have fun Bill, don't wear him out too bad."

Bill huffed in response and Tom jumped slightly as Bill slammed the door, making the glass in the door shake. Like a big cat on the prowl, Bill stalked toward Tom with a dark purpose in his honey brown eyes; pulling off his shirt and throwing it into the corner on the way. "Hey babe." Tom greeted shakily as he sat up on the bed.

"We don't have time for pleasantries." Bill snarled as he climbed onto the bed and straddled Tom's thighs, "Just shut up and kiss me." Tom's protest was cut off by Bill, who had successfully wound his way around Tom and had collided his mouth against Tom's with a needy moan.

With rivaled fervor, Tom's passion was instantly set ablaze by Bill as he rolled his hips against Tom's in a way that sent joints of happy energy straight to Tom's groin. "Bill, I want you so bad." Tom moaned as his desperation became equal with his lovers.

"Shhhh, no time for talking. We only have an hour until I have to go." Bill heeded against Tom's lips; his fingers clawing at Tom's oversized tee-shirt.

"Wait…" Tom questioned between kisses and helping Bill extract his own shirt from his torso, "Wait, why do you have to leave?"

"I have to have dinner with Listing tonight." Bill growled against Tom's collarbone as he attacked the flesh there with his lips and teeth before working his way down Tom's torso. "No what part of shut up didn't you understand?"

"But…but Bill, why? I can come?" Tom gasped as Bill's tongue lavished it's way across Tom's abs, the stud there adding an exciting bit of pressure to the long swipes.

Bill bite one of Tom's abs in response to all his questions causing Tom to jolt in pain and pleasure, "No, you can't come along. Listing is getting pissy because we don't have any alone time or something." Bill once again cut himself short by distracting himself with Tom's pants and trying to pull the copious amounts of denim off of Tom's hips. "Why the hell do you wear these awful pants again?"

"Because I like them." Tom replied but wouldn't let Bill change the subject, "I don't want you to go."

"I have to." Bill stated as he finally managed to remove Tom's jeans all by himself. "He'll scrap the project if I don't and then how are we ever going to make it big and then how are you ever going to be able to save me from him." Bill once again tried to make Tom shut up by kissing him by Tom stopped him by grabbing his thin shoulders and holding him out of reach. "Oh, come on Tomi, it's just dinner."

"No, Bill, it's not just dinner. You know that he's gonna want more then that. You know that." Tom chided. "And even though I know that we said it didn't matter, it does matter and I don't want you to go."

Bill scolded at Tom, "Tomi, you don't understand. If I don't go, that guy Gustav is going to kill you and Fletcher and anybody who stands in Listings way. And I can't let that happen. I can't let you get hurt. So I have to go." At Bill's words, Tom's hands fell from Bill's shoulders and Bill fell forward into Tom's chest.

"Oh Bill…" Tom sighed while his arms wrapped around Bill and clung there for dear life.

"Please don't try to stop me Tomi. I have to go for us. So that we can stay together." Bill sobbed into Tom's aching chest.

Tom chewed at his lip ring and thought about saying to hell with it and stealing Bill away anyways, "…OK. You can go. But I want you home tonight. I want you back in my arms before morning."

"I promise, Tomi. I promise." Bill murmured frantically. Bill's lip trembled as he looked up into Tom's eyes and the only thing Tom could think to do was stop it, with a kiss.

Author's Note: So I decided to chop the last part up into two parts because it was getting insanely long and I needed to post something so yeah! I'm almost done with the last part. Please, please, please comment!