Kagome (_newworld) wrote,
Kagome
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Tell Me Lies - Non-JRock, Tokio Hotel, Tom/Bill

Title: Tell Me Lies
Author: Kagome
Prompt: #77 – Lies
Warnings: Twincest, sexual content, schmoopy stuff, language. The usual.
Rating: Hard R
Characters/Pairings: Tom/Bill
Disclaimer: Standard disclaimer applies.
Summary: There were times when Bill didn’t want to know the truth.
Comments: It’s better than the summary makes it seem, I promise! And full of the schmoopy-ness that I seem so good at writing when it comes to these two. And Tom’s a tiny bit of a smartass at times. XD Written for 100_prompts


Tell Me Lies



Tell me all lies / Make it so I will believe them

His skin felt as hot as the Sahara, but on the inside, he felt like he was freezing somewhere in the Arctic. He was curled up in a ball underneath two large blankets, and even that wasn’t helping much. His head was pounding in sync with his pulse, and if he tried to sit up, he felt dizzy. He’d been given strict instructions to do nothing but rest, and he was doing his best, honestly.

He just didn’t want to be here, was all.

Bill coughed, and even that hurt. He winced, reaching for another blanket that wasn’t there, and then stuck both arms back under the covers again, his shivering more pronounced.

He’d be okay when the fever broke, he knew. He’d feel more like himself instead of warmed-over death. Of course, they still wouldn’t be able to do the live that had been scheduled for tomorrow evening—it had been canceled this evening, the moment Jost had heard word of Bill spiking a fever. Tom could be such a tattle-tale sometimes, still.

He was vaguely aware of something being draped over him—another blanket, and then he heard Gustav’s voice: “He looks terrible.” Bill didn’t want to open his eyes, because the light stung far too much. Stupid bus and its stupid lights.

“Well of course he does, dumbass. He’s sick.” Georg’s voice this time, louder and a bit grating. Bill winced again and heard Georg mumble a quick, “Sorry.”

Bill would forgive him, but only because he didn’t have the strength to smother him with the pillow, or one of the blankets. Perhaps he should just cough in his face, but he didn’t feel like doing that, either. He didn’t want to move.

“Move, guys. Let me stay with him.” Tom’s voice—quiet, and the opposite of annoying. His voice didn’t make Bill wince; it made him open his eyes, even if only for the briefest of seconds, because the glare from the lights inside the bus was harsh and unfriendly. It was his twin, though—he hadn’t moved on to fever-induced hallucinations, yet.

He felt the blankets being lifted and he tried to reach for them, making a noise of protest because he didn’t want to be cold, and if the blankets were taken away, he would be cold.

“Shh.” Tom’s voice was soothing, and Bill instantly relaxed as best he could in spite of his shivering. “I’m going to lay with you.” And then Bill felt the small mattress dip as Tom’s weight was added to it—more warmth, not only in the form of blankets this time, but in the form of skin and an oversized t-shirt and jeans and arms wrapped protectively around him, cradling him.

“Warm,” Bill whispered, and speaking made his throat hurt, but he could live with it. Tom was here and he was warm and he was pressing soft kisses to his forehead.

“You’re burning up,” Tom informed unnecessarily—Bill already knew that he probably felt like a furnace, but Tom stayed beside him, anyway.

“But I’m freezing,” Bill replied, voice almost a whine. “You’re helping, though.”

“Good.”

For a few moments, there was nothing but their heartbeats (Bill’s was slightly quicker, because he was running a fever) and their breathing (Bill’s was louder because he was so congested). Gustav and Georg were somewhere else on the bus, and it sounded like they were arguing about something, but Bill mostly tuned them out because whatever they were or were not arguing about wasn’t important right now.

“I don’t want to be here right now,” Bill suddenly said, words muffled against the skin of his twin’s neck.

“Why?” Tom asked; he was teasing. “Do I stink?”

“Don’t make me bite you,” Bill grumbled, and then paused, remembering that that wouldn’t be such a great punishment because Tom liked being bitten. “Scratch that. You know what I mean.”

“I know,” Tom replied, words soothing again and sincere. “I’m sorry.”

“Lie to me?” Bill suggested. “Make me believe we aren’t here?”

There were times when Bill didn’t want the truth. There were times when he wanted Tom to lie to him, because he’d learned that all lies weren’t always bad. Sometimes lies were good. Sometimes telling a little white lie kept someone you loved happy, right? Sometimes, Bill asked Tom to do that for him: Lie, just a little bit, but make me believe it.

It was a defense mechanism, Bill figured. Denial. Or maybe suppression was the correct term. Perhaps it was just another version of make-believe, like they used to play when they were little. Either way, when Tom lied to him like that (in the helpful way), it was easy enough to believe him (when he wanted to) and to pretend that it was real, even though – as a rule – Tom wasn’t very good at lying, especially to Bill. Bill could deal with that, though; he always had.

“So,” Tom began, running gentle fingers through Bill’s limp, oily hair, “we’re at home and we’re in your bed--”

“I like your bed better,” Bill interrupted, wriggling just the tiniest bit in Tom’s arms.

“Fine,” Tom snorted, and Bill could picture him rolling his eyes. “We’re in my bed, then, and I’m holding you, just like this. We’ve got our song playing on that little CD player that always sits on the top of my nightstand.”

Bill felt his heart quicken at the mention of their song—it had nothing to do with the fever this time. “And?”

“And you’re half-asleep, drowsy-like. I’m holding you, just like this, and Mom and Gordon are downstairs. Mom’s making pasta and Gordon is saying things to make her laugh….”

Bill imagined the sound of their mother’s laughter—high and musical, like bells, and it made him smile just a little. “Yeah….”

“And I’m humming in your ear, and you’re all content and relaxed, and you’re practically purring--”

“I don’t purr,” Bill interrupted, trying to sound indignant and failing. “I’m not some housecat.”

“You purr more often than you realize,” Tom replied, though not in an argumentative tone. “Anyway, you’ve got your eyes closed and you yawn, and you’re always so cute when you yawn.”

Bill wrinkled his nose. “Not working, Tomi. I’m not slee--”

He cut himself off with a yawn.

Tom chuckled, and when he spoke again, his tone was affectionate: “Cute. You should sleep, you know—it’s been a long day. Rest is the best medicine for a cold.”

Bill opened his mouth to say something about laughter being the best medicine, intent on quickly following that with “You suck at lying,” but he was fast asleep before he managed to get that far.

Maybe Tom could be a pretty good liar, when he wanted to be.

~*~

We just wanted to talk / And now you’re lying here / And I’m lying beside you / Talking, talking…

Another night, another hotel bed. It wasn’t empty, though—almost never was, because the two of them would almost always find a way to be together. Tom always said it was because he didn’t like to sleep alone; it wasn’t childish or silly, and Bill knew what Tom really meant, anyway. If his twin didn’t like sleeping alone, that implied that having anyone else beside him would satisfy him, just as long as he was no longer alone.

Both of them knew how it really was, because when all was quiet save for their breathing, Tom would sometimes say, “I miss your cold feet when they aren’t pressed against my legs” or “I sleep better when your elbow is poking me in the chest”. It was Bill that Tom missed, when they couldn’t be together, and Bill understood perfectly, because he always missed Tom, too.

Tonight, they were together, and tonight was not a night for stillness and cuddles while they watched one of those stupid, overly-romantic movies (Tom always liked to pick on Bill for getting so caught up in movies like that, but Tom did it too whether he realized it or not). Tonight, the silence was frequently broken by soft gasps and quiet moans, and the wet sounds of mouths traveling over invisible (though well-worn) paths on skin. Nothing unfamiliar here—no territories yet to be explored.

“Tomi?” Bill eventually asked, fingers tangling into Tom’s dreads and tugging gently, wanting his brother to look at him.

Tom was sprawled half on top of Bill and his mouth was moving against Bill’s hip in a way that made it incredibly difficult for Bill to think at all, much less form coherent sentences. His teeth were quick and sharp, sinking into Bill’s skin and expertly blurring that fine line between pain and pleasure, making both Bill’s mind and entire world go completely black for a moment as thought processes came to a halt and his lashes fluttered, eyes falling closed without his permission.

“Yes?” Tom queried once his mouth had left Bill’s hip. His breath tickled, and felt much cooler than it usually would had he not breathed the word close to skin that was slick with saliva. His voice was low and husky—seduction wrapped in velvet, and the sound of that one word emitting from his lips made Bill forget what he was supposed to be saying again.

Along with the air that he quickly inhaled (so sharply that it made his lungs burn a little, which also helped to momentarily fight off the haze of pleasure he was currently lost in) came a very brief sense of clarity, and he remembered what it was that he wanted to say: “What are we doing?” he murmured, voice tender and tinged with amusement. His fingers were gentle, working their way through Tom’s hair and massaging his scalp until Tom was the one purring like a housecat.

Of course, the question was silly and unnecessary, because Bill knew exactly what they were doing. Tom had shoved his shirt up, exposing his chest and belly, and had tugged his pajama bottoms down until they were around his knees (he’d worn no underwear, and Tom had grinned at this realization). Bill was more than ready to kick them the rest of the way off, but he couldn’t really do that with Tom half-lying on his legs.

Tom was in a similar state of dishevelment, shirt removed and flung over the headboard, sweat glistening on his bare skin, baggy jeans undone but not yet removed (and Bill hoped to remedy that soon as well), and his breathing was a little ragged. He was beautiful and he was perfectly irresistible, just like always.

Bill knew perfectly well what they were doing, and they sure as hell weren’t playing Monopoly or watching chick flicks or popping popcorn. He just wanted to know what his twin would say—probably something dirty, which would no doubt only serve to turn Bill on even more.

But Tom surprised him; his smile was faux-innocent as he replied between kisses (which he scattered along Bill’s stomach and chest, steadily working his way upwards): “We’re just talking.”

Bill laughed, but it was cut short when that warm tongue found one of his nipples and flicked against it, sending a fresh wave of desire straight to his groin and sending little jolts of pleasure everywhere through his body, from his scalp to his toes and back again.

And when he trusted his voice enough to let himself speak again, he asked, his voice barely even above a whisper, “Is that what we’re going to call it tonight~? Talking?”

“Mmhmm,” Tom replied, not even missing a beat as his mouth ventured to Bill’s other nipple, teeth grazing along sensitive skin and making Bill shudder and throb with want. “It worked as far as the song went, anyway. You’re the one who lied and said you just wanted to talk.”

Bill released a small groan, fingers tightening in Tom’s hair when Tom’s lips closed around that same nipple and began to suck hard, bowing Bill’s spine and making him choke on the words he had planned on saying. “Oh. Oh god, Tomi.”

Again, Tom drew back, now moving fabric aside and directing his attention to Bill’s left shoulder. Bill felt his teeth sink in there, too, and knew that he would have some lovely bruises later, but he didn’t mind. It wasn’t like he’d be prancing around in front of the cameras naked or anything, and he sure as hell wouldn’t have gotten naked (even in private) with anyone that wasn’t his brother. Only Tom had the privilege of seeing him like this, and only Tom and himself would know of the marks that Tom left on his body.

“I know you like it when I do this,” Tom whispered, teeth grazing along one of the big tendons in the side of Bill’s neck. “Even though it’s not necessary for me to mark you, because you know you’re mine, and I know you’re mine. I think both of us just take an interest in seeing the marks there, on your body. Knowing that I made them and that you let me….” He trailed off then, pressing his hips harder against Bill’s, and it wasn’t necessary for him to finish his sentence. Bill knew exactly what he meant.

“I know,” Bill whispered, lifting his hips and biting down on his bottom lip to stifle his moan. “My clothes. And yours.”

“Will be gone soon,” Tom promised, hands taking hold of Bill’s hips as his own hips rocked downwards, and the feel of denim dragging roughly against the sensitive skin of his bare cock made Bill whimper none too quietly.

Then Tom’s lips were on his, and Bill was opening to him, drawing him in, sucking greedily on his twin’s tongue the moment it pushed past his lips. He would never get enough of that taste, and he knew that he would never see the day when he would want to get enough of it. He would always want more—would always want to desire more. Everything about Tom was like a drug for him—he would always need more, and the best thing was that Bill knew he would never have to go without. They had promised one another that they would never leave one another’s side, and they hadn’t—not in nineteen years. In a hundred years, it would still be the same, only they’d be old and wrinkled and content with life, sitting on the back porch in the shade and holding each other’s hands.

Maybe they’d be somewhere in the countryside. Just because they didn’t like it now didn’t mean that they would dislike it forever. Things changed all of the time.

This was just one of those things that wouldn’t.

When they broke apart, each of them breathing deeply and a little erratically, Bill scrambled to piece together the scattered remains of his previous thoughts. He’d been about to ask his brother something, hadn’t he?

And then, with Tom’s lips pressed against his jaw, he remembered: “I can’t believe you had to bring that song up.” He nearly giggled.

“What?” Tom asked, looking up at him with more of that feigned innocence shining in his dark eyes. “You wrote it, and you even gave yourself the material for it~.” His lips were suddenly on Bill’s neck again, once more making thought incredibly difficult, but Bill gave a valiant try anyway.

“… You encouraged me,” Bill accused, “and even helped me lie to the fans about it, so you’re a liar too~.”

A bad one, maybe, but a liar all the same.

“Only when you want me to be,” Tom pointed out, tugging at Bill’s shirt, and Bill raised his head and his arms a little awkwardly, just long enough for Tom to get rid of his shirt.

Because Tom’s words were true, Bill didn’t bother to argue. Instead, he squirmed underneath his twin’s skillful mouth and hands as they began working their way down his body once more.

“Besides,” Tom said when his lips had brushed over one nipple and then the other before continuing the journey south, “we are talking right now.”

Which was also true, so Bill didn’t try to argue with that, either.

When Tom reached his cock, he hovered there, warm breath against overly-heated and overly-sensitive skin making Bill shudder yet again, hands fisting into Tom’s hair and tugging harder this time. “Tomi,” he whined, “what are you doing?”

He had to be doing more than just torturing him to death on purpose, right?

This time, Tom didn’t even try to look innocent. “Talking,” he replied simply, and his mouth was so close and god, why was he doing this?

“Liar.” Bill tried to put some bite into it, but it only came out as a half-whine, half-moan.

Tom chuckled. “Yeah, but it makes you smile sometimes, and then it’s all worth it. And when you get like this….” He trailed off again, lowering his head, and the instant his lips closed around Bill’s cock, all talking ceased completely.

And with good reason, too.

~*~

I know somewhere / We’ll find a little place for you and me

“Tell me again,” Bill demanded, voice soft and muffled against Tom’s shoulder. They were lying together on yet another hotel bed, impossibly close, arms and legs intertwined amidst a mess of sheets and blankets. Bill had kicked all of the covers off earlier, complaining that he was hot under them, since he still had his pajamas on.

Tom, who was only wearing his boxers, had complained that he would be cold, and he’d asked why Bill couldn’t just strip down to his underwear too (or better yet, get completely naked). Bill had grinned at him and moved his fingers in vague patterns over his skin (which would have been meaningless to anyone but them) and had smugly replied, “Because that would be all too easy. Besides, I’ll keep you warm.”

Tom had caved, and Bill had made good on his promise. He was keeping his twin warm.

“Tell you what?” Tom asked, fingers combing softly, comfortingly, through Bill’s hair, making the younger – but only by ten minutes! – of the two practically purr (and okay, so maybe he did purr sometimes, but Bill wasn’t about to bring that up now and make a damn liar out of himself).

“You know what,” Bill accused, nipping lightly at Tom’s bare shoulder, lips curling into a secretive smile the instant he heard Tom’s breath hitch. “The house. The beach. The salty air. Us. Just us.”

“Oh,” Tom said. “That.” Bill could hear the smile in his voice.

“Yes,” Bill replied somewhat huffily (because Tom was teasing him now, after all). “That.”

Tom stretched beneath him, arms winding their way around Bill’s waist and holding him there (not that Bill would have moved). For several seconds, there was nothing but the sound of their hearts beating in that perfect rhythm they always did when they were allowed to be together with the rest of the world locked outside, unable to intrude upon their moment of bliss.

There was the sound of their breathing, too—not erratic as it had been earlier in the shower when hands and mouths had wandered, but calm now. Steady; easy. On sudden impulse, Bill lifted his head, propping up on his elbows only to lean down and press a kiss to Tom’s lips, savoring the way his brother opened for him immediately, loving the way they shared the same breath, the same air, as their tongues lazily tangled and explored. And oh, there was heat, plenty of that (always plenty of that), but no urgency. This kiss was slow and sweet and Bill let his lips linger at Tom’s for a little while, even after the kiss had ended.

“We’ll live in a nice house,” Tom eventually began once Bill had nuzzled against his chest, “not too big, not too small. Comfortable. And we’ll be on a beach—nice and secluded, somewhere where no-one else knows who the hell we are, and we can be us without hiding so much or worrying about who’s going to show up at our door next. And we’ll go for walks along the shore every day, and I’ll hold your hand, and I won’t laugh at you when we go in the water and you make a face at how the wet sand squishes between your toes.”

That, of course, was a lie: Tom always laughed at him when Bill complained about wet sand getting between his toes. Bill didn’t interrupt him to point it out, though.

“And I’ll put that green stuff--”

“Aloe Vera?”

“Whatever,” Tom snorted softly. “Only a girl like you would know what it’s called.”

“Only an idiot like you wouldn’t,” Bill retorted half-heartedly, far too comfortable and happy now to sound very grumpy.

“Anyway,” Tom continued, undeterred, “I’ll put that gree--Aloe Vera--on you when you get sunburned. We’ll christen every single room in the house, in various positions, and we’ll re-christen as necessary.” He chuckled then, and so did Bill, though Bill’s pulse sped a little at the thought of it.

“And?” Bill asked expectantly before pressing a light kiss to the corner of Tom’s mouth.

“And we’ll have dogs, and we’ll take them out for walks on the beach too,” Tom murmured, hands slipping beneath Bill’s pajama top to touch skin.

“And cats,” Bill added.

Tom nodded solemnly. “Cats too,” he reassured. “But other than that, it’ll be just us, and we won’t have a worry or a care in the world.”

Sweet words, and Bill loved to hear them, but they were only just that: Sweet words. They were not reality, and they never would be. His brother was a terrible liar, but even if he hadn’t been, Bill wouldn’t have fallen for that story. Ever. He wasn’t that naïve. Leaving this life was not an option.

Besides, it wasn’t like he didn’t love their life as it was. It wasn’t like he didn’t enjoy the perks that being famous brought. It wasn’t like he didn’t enjoy the exhilarating feeling that performing in front of their fans provided. It wasn’t like he didn’t absolutely love these quiet, beautiful moments in their hectic lives when he could just be with his twin, just like this.

Bill wouldn’t have traded any of this for anything.

The truth of the matter was that he just liked to hear about the (non-)alternative fairy tale that they would-never-should-never-could-never have, sometimes.

“It would be nice,” Bill murmured softly, bringing them back into the present by saying ‘would’ instead of ‘will’, because both of them know better. He buried his face against Tom’s neck, inhaling deeply, oddly content.

“Mmhmm,” Tom agreed, lightly stroking Bill’s hair again.

Bill lifted his head and smiled. “This is nice.”

Tom’s fingertips trailed along the curve of Bill’s cheek. “Yes, it is.”

For all of their stories and their wacky ideas, they lived in the here and now.

Now was their reality.

And now was what mattered most, anyway.

~*~

You are everything that I am / And everything that runs through my veins

There were times when Bill teetered on the edge of uncertainty. There were times when he worried over things that he knew he shouldn’t worry over. There were times he became paranoid when he knew there was absolutely nothing to cause the paranoia. There were times when he had no clue what to do next—which path to follow, which voice to listen to.

And there were times when he needed the blunt truth, instead of the sweet lies.

Tonight was one of those nights—a night that he needed the former instead of the latter. Even so, his stomach twisted itself into knots of nervousness before he could even get the question out, before he could even decide if he wanted it to be out there in the open or not.

In the end, he decided to be brave (or stupid, or both), and blurted the words out when Tom was half-asleep: “I need you to tell me something.”

Not even cracking one eye open, Tom replied, “Something,” and then his lips curved upward in a small smile. The smartass.

“No,” Bill tried again. “I need you to tell me the truth, okay? No lies—even though I’d know if you were lying because you suck at it… but I need the absolute truth. Even if it hurts.”

Tom opened his eyes, worry evident in them, and sat up, gazing at Bill seriously. “Ask.”

Bill fumbled with the sheets, refusing to meet his twin’s eyes as he mumbled the question, barely leaving any space between the words, so that they seemed to almost run together: “Do-you-ever-wish-that-we-weren’t-brothers?”

“What?”

Bill managed to look up then, and he could practically see the cogs turning in Tom’s mind, trying to make sense of his question. He tried again, slower this time, and a little louder: “Do you ever wish that we weren’t brothers?”

For a few tense, terrifying moments, there was nothing but silence. And then: “Do you honestly think that I’d ever wish you weren’t my brother?” Tom asked incredulously, with just the slightest edge of anger to his words. “It doesn’t bother me, Bill. I don’t care that what we have isn’t considered ‘normal’. Yeah, we have to be careful, but when it’s just me and you, like this, I don’t give a flying fuck about the rest of the world out there. It’s always been you and me, ever since the start, even before we were born. You think I want that to change?”

Bill glanced down at the sheet clutched in his hands. His knuckles were white. He suddenly felt very, very stupid for bringing the subject up in the first place, but he’d wanted to know, hadn’t he? “I just… Wondered if you’d want this to be easier. In many parts of the world, they’re getting a lot more accepting of same-sex couples, but I doubt that the majority of any country would ever accept what we have.”

Tom leaned in closer, cupping Bill’s face in his hands. “I. Don’t. Care.” He said the words firmly, in a way that nearly dared Bill to try to continue to argue. “You’re my twin brother, Bill. My soulmate, and I love you because you are you, and no-one else. Do you really think that we would be this close, if we were simply two people who’d met by chance? I don’t think so. We have what a lot of people search for and never find. It’s real, and it’s not going away, because you are you and I am me. There’s a connection between us that many people would never be able to even begin to fathom.”

Bill released his death grip on the sheet, reaching up so that he could rest his hands on Tom’s. His eyes met his twin’s, and he saw absolute sincerity there—no lies tonight, not even the harmless ones that were told in an attempt to make Bill feel better. This was a very sensitive subject, though, and if Bill happened to see even a trace of deceit in Tom’s eyes, he was certain it would tear him in two. He saw none, however. He saw nothing but truth and affection and something like hope, and maybe even fierce determination—Tom wanted Bill to believe him. Obviously, this was as important to him as it was to Bill.

“‘You are everything that I am,’” Tom quoted. “You wrote that, Bill, but I feel the same. You have to know that. I don’t wish anything were different—not between you and me. You have to believe me when I tell you something like this.”

And Bill did believe him. He knew his brother inside out—knew when he told the truth and knew when he didn’t. This was most definitely the truth, and Bill was feeling more relaxed now and a lot better since they’d cleared that up.

He smiled, moving his hands so that he could cup Tom’s cheeks, too. Now, their positions mirrored each other. “I do,” he said solemnly, and then, a little quieter: “Thank you.” He pressed a kiss to those tempting lips and didn’t resist when Tom moved to deepen it. He kissed Tom almost reverently, feeling an overwhelming surge of gratitude and warmth when Tom pulled him closer. He was extremely lucky to have this man as his brother, his best friend, his lover… his everything.

When they broke apart, Bill’s head was spinning and his lips were tingling and his breathing was more than a little ragged, but his smile slipped easily back into place as he pushed Tom back against the mattress and straddled him. “You’re just lucky,” he said, voice low and still serious, belying the smile playing on his lips. “You’re a terrible liar.”

“Am I?” Tom asked innocently, teasingly trailing just the tips of his calloused fingers along Bill’s thighs, making him shiver. “What if I told you that you are most assuredly not turning me on right now?”

Bill’s grin turned downright impish. “It’s extremely easy to tell when you’re lying about something like that, you know,” he said, giving absolutely no warning before grinding down against Tom, finding proof that his twin most definitely lying.

“I hate you,” Tom muttered, shoving his own hips up and making Bill gasp.

“Still lying,” Bill replied, unfazed by Tom’s words, though he was certainly affected by the slow, torturous rocking of his hips.

Eventually, somewhere between the heated kisses and the wandering hands, Tom started telling the truth again. It spilled from his lips between his little gasps and his low moans (“I love you,” “I want you”), and wherever he touched, he ignited tiny fires, which combined into one undeniable raging wildfire.

Bill echoed the very same words of affection and desire, and didn’t resist when Tom rolled them over so that Bill was now lying on the bed and Tom was between his thighs, which had spread of their own accord.

“Well, feel lucky that I’ve decided I’m nice enough to give you what you want,” Tom teased, shifting and making both of them groan. “Hnnn, fuck, Bill, where did we put the lube?”

“Nice enough?” Bill asked with mock-incredulousness when he trusted his voice not to sound too breathy or too needy (it did anyway). God, the way Tom moved sometimes was nearly enough to make him want to come on the spot, long before he was ready to. “And what is this we you speak of? You put it on the nightstand, but since I’m nice, I’ll get it for you.” He fumbled one-handedly for it, not taking his eyes off of Tom as he did so, and when he found it and closed his fingers around the small tube, he handed it unquestioningly to Tom. He shifted a little himself then, just to hear Tom’s sharp indrawn breath, and he smiled. “Oh, but you’ve already had me once tonight—haven’t you had enough?”

Tom’s eyes grew serious again. “Never,” he whispered. “And I mean that, too.”

“I know,” Bill answered, and his smile was different now—not amused, but full of a different sort of happiness.

And then Tom’s slick fingers were inside of him for a very few precious moments before they were gone and Tom was sliding into him, achingly slow, but it was so good. Always.

There was no need for words, then, and there were none—there was just that undeniable truth in Tom’s eyes, that Bill knew he would never get tired of seeing.

There were times when Bill didn’t want the truth. There were times when he didn’t want to wake up and know that he was in an unfamiliar bed, five-or-so-thousand miles away from home. There were times when he didn’t want to know that there were a million people waiting for them outside the hotel doors. There were times when he wanted Tom to tell him that things were going to be okay, even when he didn’t feel like they would be.

And there were times – just like tonight – when he only wanted the truth.

Because there were times – just like tonight – when the truth made him feel better than even the best and most-convincing lie ever could.



~END~

Am actually quite pleased with how this one turned out. At first I was kinda flailing about because I wasn’t sure how I wanted it to go. I thought it would be more of a drabble, but boy was I ever wrong. >_<;

Of course, I’m hoping you’ll recognize the lyrics scattered about. All are from songs by Tokio Hotel.


Tell me all lies / Make it so I will believe them from Hilf mir Fliegen (translated lyric)

We just wanted to talk / And now you’re lying here / And I’m lying beside you / Talking, talking… from Reden (also a translated lyric)

I know somewhere / We’ll find a little place for you and me from 1000 Oceans.

You are everything that I am / And everything that runs through my veins from the official Tom and Bill song (XD), In Die Nacht (also translated lyric).

If you guys enjoyed reading this half as much as I enjoyed writing it, then my mission is complete. ^_^ Thank you, as always, for giving my little contributions to this pairing your time of day. <33333

*whisperwhisper* Psssst. Anyone out there know where I can find a good layout of the twins? XD I am in desperate need of a new layout for this LJ. ^^; I had found one, once upon a time, that I had planned on using, but eh. Apparently, the user's LJ has been deleted. Help? :D
Tags: 100 prompts, billxtom, tokio hotel, tomxbill
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