Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/3232619.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Graphic_Depictions_Of_Violence, Underage, Rape/Non-Con
  Category:
      M/M
  Fandom:
      Tokio_Hotel
  Relationship:
      Bill_Kaulitz/Tom_Kaulitz
  Character:
      Tom_Kaulitz, Bill_Kaulitz, Gordon_Trümper, Jörg_Kaulitz, Simone_Kaulitz,
      Bushido, Georg_Listing, Gustav_Schäfer, Natalie_Franz, Ria_Sommerfeld,
      Adam_Lambert, Andreas_Gühne
  Additional Tags:
      Underage_Sex, Underage_Drinking, Underage_Smoking, Running_Away, police
      chases!_maybe, Kaulitzcest_-_Freeform, Twincest, Alternate_Universe_-_Not
      Related, Underage_Drug_Use
  Series:
      Part 1 of pacify.
  Stats:
      Published: 2015-01-26 Updated: 2015-06-14 Chapters: 13/? Words: 29964
****** clarify it hurts. ******
by HittingBillithyIsFun
Summary
     If in death Tom could dream, he only wanted to dream of Bill.
Notes
     This work is totally fiction none of this shit happened. Also they're
     not twins, sorry. Still read it tho!
     ~ HittingSasukeIsFun & Onyxxyyxx
     links on our profile c:
***** Chapter 1 *****
                                                            
 
What is 3,920, 000,000,000 in scientific notation? 
Bill looked at the answer choices underneath and huffed. Math was the worst,
most boring thing ever.
He glanced around at his classmates. Some were responsibly concentrating on
their current assignment, others goofing off and trying to discreetly pass
notes. Then there was Tom.
He was lazily hunched over his table, his head resting peacefully on his folded
arms. His mouth hung slightly agape and a single blond dreadlock dangled across
his slumbering features. Bill wanted to throw something at his face. Teachers
didn't even bother with Tom anymore, any time or energy used to try to help him
was wasted in their eyes, he was a lost cause.
He looked back down at his math sheet and deflated.
The seconds ticked by at a painfully slow rate but soon they'd be allowed to
leave the horrifically mind-numbing place they called "school".
Bill watched as the blond leisurely roused from sleep when the shrill ringing
of the bell resounded through the jostling classroom. He moved drowsily,
stuffing his backpack and slinging it over his shoulder.
Since they lived just a few houses away from each other, they usually made the
trek home together. Getting out onto the streets, they quietly made their way
through the small town of Loitsche.
Halfway there, Bill thought he'd break the silence.
"Had a nice nap?" he asked, grinning.
Tom rolled his eyes and glanced away.
"Why do you sleep in class so much? Do you stay up all night jerking off?"
He leered at Bill then.
"Why don't you ask your mom?" Tom smirked impishly.
Bill gasped dramatically and punched Tom's shoulder playfully.
"Asshole!" Bill chuckled briskly and shook his head.
After several minutes, seeing as they were just a few meters away from their
respective houses, Bill's pert and raspy voice yet again pierced the air.
"Wanna hang out later?"
"Yeah," Tom almost immediately replied.
"Okay!" He saluted Tom and sauntered over to the left, briefly looking back at
Tom's retreating back as he opened the front door.
A sweet smell wafted through the air as he walked down the hallway. Mmh, tomato
sauce!
 
===============================================================================
 
Approaching the front door, Tom could already hear the sobbing wails of his
mother and raucous insults from his father. He tried to sneak past the open
doorway to find refuge in his room but didn't get far when his father cut short
his attempted escape.
"Where do you think you're going?" His father's powerful voice breached his
senses and he reluctantly turned, sluggishly making his way back to the living
room.
"Do you know what this is?" Apart from his mother's sniffles and father's
bestial huffing, the room was filled with a dreadful silence. Tom's eyes were
locked on the small plastic bag in his father's hand. 
"Huh?! Your mother found this in your room!" Jörg's arm snapped back to point
at his tear-ridden mother. Tom flinched and felt his throat constrict. She was
clutching her trembling form, breath stuttering out of her.
He felt tears rise up and clamped his jaw.
"What do you have to say for yourself?!" Jörg's voice boomed through the
tension-filled room as he threw the drug filled bag to the ground before
gripping Tom's shoulder, brusquely shaking him.
"Don't-" Simone feebly defended, shakily reaching out to her son.
"You shut up!" his father barked, yet again stabbing a finger toward Tom's poor
mother. Her head fell into her hands as she let out another sob.
"Don't fucking talk to her like that!" Tom barely finished his sentence when a
calloused palm collided with the right side of his face. He stared wide-eyed,
gently cupping his warm and stinging cheek.
 Jörg couldn't help but smirk at the tears that began to form in Tom's wide
eyes, his pain giving Jörg an indescribable feeling of satisfaction. "Go to
your fucking room!" Tom gawked, standing stupidly, paralyzed.
"NOW." He jumped and swiftly made his way back to his original destination.
Shutting the door, he leaned his hands against the frame, letting his head
droop and the tears fall. His hands balled into fists and he hissed out his
breathing through clenched teeth, barely holding himself together. He was
tearing at the seems, ready to combust.
He threw himself onto his bed, cradling his throbbing head.
Curling up into the fetal position, he wiped at his face, trying to regain a
semblance of composure.
The defeated teen willed his breathing to a steady pace and dragged the soft,
military green covers over his shoulders.
 
Forcing his heavy eyelids open, he glanced at the digital clock on his night
stand. Blinking rapidly, he saw that it was already seven minutes past six.
Huh, must have dozed off...
Sitting up, he rubbed at his face once more, leaned forward with his hands on
his knees and weightily stood on his feet.
He peered around his room, searching for his black hoodie, judging it time to
leave. Spotting it, he slipped it on and snatched his mp3 player from off the
shelf. That would keep him company 'til Bill arrived.
He paused in front of the window, fingers tapping against the sill, and sighed.
Would this torment ever let up? Or would he have to endure it until he moved
out of this hellhole? He was miserable. He didn't know how much more of this
torture he could handle... But what he did know was that only one thing ever
made him feel better.
On that thought, he zipped up his jacket and slid the window open. Ducking out,
he headed toward peace, comfort, laughter...happiness.
Bill.
Images of the dark-haired bundle of excitement whirred through his mind and his
pace quickened, a slither of warmth seeping into his cold, aching heart.
 
===============================================================================
 
"Aaaah!" Bill sighed liberally and patted his full belly. That cannelloni had
been delicious, his dad was such a good cook. He looked at him and smiled
brightly. He winked at Bill and got up to clear the table. Bill stood to give
him a hand.
"Can I go outside?"
Gordon looked suspiciously at Bill while he handed him another plate to wipe
dry.
"Where?"
"Just to the river with Tom," Bill replied, ever jaunty.
There was a short lull between them and Gordon sighed.
"Why are you always hanging out with that boy," Gordon said absentmindedly.
"You know, he's probably the reason you never get girlfriends. It definitely
isn't your looks..."
"Dad." Bill whined, rolling his eyes. 
"Did you finish your homework?" Bill could already make out his compliance.
"Yes."
"Be home before sunset."
"Thaaanks," he eagerly put away what he'd just dried and gave Gordon a quick
one-armed hug before skipping off to the front door.
"Before sunset!" he yelled after him.
"Yeah!" Bill acknowledged, peeking his head back inside the house, and shut the
door behind him.
He hurried down the street to the river, their habitual hang out location.
Ten minutes later, he spotted the blond. He was facing the stream cross-legged,
his head bent down toward the music player between his thumbs. Bill approached
unnoticed, Tom too engrossed in his distraction.
"RAAAH!" Bill hollered, grabbing Tom's arms from behind. Tom jolted, giving a
startled squawk.
Ripping out his ear buds, Tom punched Bill's ankle, smiling all the while.
"Ah!" Bill cried out, hopping backwards while he clutched his leg, still
managing to be amused at Tom's upheaval.
"You asshole, what was that about?!" Tom shouted in mock rage.
"I was just trying to surprise you!" Bill shouted back. "You didn't have to hit
me..."
Tom rolled his eyes at Bill's cute pout and turned to face the water again.
Bill finally plopped down next to him, bumping their shoulders together. They
sat in a comfortable silence, just enjoying each other's presence; until Tom's
stomach decided to voice its displeasure.
Tom groaned back, falling back onto the grass, folding his arms behind his
head. Damn he was hungry. He stared up at the sky, warm colors colliding with
cool as day turned into night. Bill furrowed his eyebrows and lay down, too,
resting his chin on Tom's chest. The dread-headed boy stared into his best
friend's concerned eyes. 
"You're always hungry," Bill said, and Tom looked back up to the sky with a
sigh. Not this conversation again. "It's like you never eat or something."
"I eat." Tom grumbled, and Bill rolled his eyes.
"Have you eaten every day this week?" 
"Yes." Tom lied smoothly, his years of practice coming into play. 
After a few minutes of silence, Tom sighed again. Bill was only quiet when
something was wrong. He finally looked back down at the older boy's distressed
face, eyebrows furrowed and lips pursed. 
"Everything's fine, ok? I just haven't had dinner yet, I'm sure I'll eat once I
get home." He said, mumbling the last part a little quieter.
"Okay." Bill sighed, not in the mood for prying. He just wanted to lie and
watch the stars with his best friend in silence. So that's what they did.
 
===============================================================================
 
Tom lay on his bed, arms behind his head as he listened to his stomach groan in
agony. It had been two hours since he'd gotten back from the river, and he
still hadn't eaten. This wasn't so bad though, going only a few hours without
food. He'd gone days, weeks even without a single crumb, he could definitely
handle this. Today he was lucky enough to find a few coins on the ground on his
way to school, just enough for a tray of lunch; 5 chicken nuggets, fries, an
orange and some milk - he had been in heaven. It was the most he'd eaten in the
last week. 
At that thought, his stomach rumbled again. 
He was just about to turn over to try to get some sleep, just as his door flew
open, slamming against the wall, revealing his father, a large smirk on his
face as he made his way into the teen's room.
"You hungry, son?" he asked with mock concern.
"No." Tom replied immediately, knowing exactly what was coming next.
Jörg stopped in front of Tom's bed, his hand reaching down to grope his
hardening crotch.
"Are you sure? Because I've got a little something for you..." 
"I'm sure." Tom said, averting his eyes to the doorway, thinking of a way to
escape.
Jörg only laughed at Tom's response, slowly unzipping his jeans before
motioning the boy over. Tom didn't budge, though, and Jörg squinted his eyes.
"I said get over here, now," He gritted, his jaw clenching when Tom remained,
once again. 
Tom had some dignity and he wasn't going down without a fight. He was nearly a
man now, only four more years until he was able to get the hell out of this
house, he wasn't taking orders from anyone, especially not Jörg.
"You're asking for it," Jörg said harshly.
Tom winced, hissing as his hair was tugged sharply, his body lurching to the
edge of the bed.
His father's hard, leaking cock burst into view and Tom flinched, breaking into
a cold sweat.
"Open that pretty little mouth for daddy," Jörg said in a deceivingly sweet yet
sickening tone.
"Mm-mh!" He pressed his lips together tight, urgently shaking his head. No, no,
NO.
Jörg pressed his thumb and forefinger into Tom's cheeks, squeezing and forcing
a small opening. His thumb moved between his now open lips, settling on his
lower molars, holding his mouth wide open.
A shiver went down his spine when the head of Jörg's cock touched his tongue.
It slid in further and he breathed raggedly through his nose, nostrils flaring.
"Thaaat's my boy..."
Tom screwed his eyes shut, trying desperately not to whimper.
In and out, in and out -- Tom felt nauseous and Jörg mindlessly groaned out
words of praise, only worsening Tom's lamentable state.
He trembled, tears leaking out without consent as Jörg's pace sped up. He hit
the back of his throat and Tom gagged, jerking backwards, coughing.
Jörg viciously pushed the frightened boy onto the floor.
"You really are good for nothing," he sneered, sending a swift kick to the boys
rib. Tom groaned loudly, curling up into a tight ball as he was repeatedly
and mercilessly kicked. 
The last thing he remembered was the hard kick to the head that knocked him out
cold.
***** Chapter 2 *****
Chapter Notes
See the end of the chapter for notes
                                                                           
 
Bill slammed his locker shut, grudgingly making his way to the lunchroom. Tom
was absent today, meaning he would have to eat alone. He huffed out a sigh,
pouting.
He hated it when Tom wasn't there. He was his only real friend, the only one
who made this shitty place bearable. Even if he slept through it most of the
time.
Reaching the cafeteria, he dejectedly sat down at their usual table -- today,
vacant.
He set down his red Power Ranger's lunchbox and released the latch to reveal
his meal: a peanut butter and jelly sandwich, some chips and an apple. His
stomach grumbled in response.
Why did Tom use school time as nap time so much? At least once a week he would
notice the blond peacefully dozing off in the middle of a lesson. Bill had
jokingly questioned him on a number of occasions but Tom had always been
devious under Bill's scrutiny, effectively evading his musings and never
satisfying his curiosity...
But curiosity quickly became concern when the next day, Tom still hadn't shown
up. That afternoon in class seemed never-ending. To make things worse, a group
of boys chose that day to follow Bill almost all the way back home, throwing
petty insults at him, relentlessly chasing after him. He ignored them, as
always. Nothing good ever came from trying to confront them -- it only added
fuel to the flame.
All because he was a little effeminate.
If Bill had no problem with it, then why should anyone else? Why did they care?
He wasn't bothering anyone being...gay. Bill didn't think about it very often,
but he had come to the conclusion that he was, in fact, gay. He had no romantic
interest in girls, all they ever were was someone to paint his nails or swap
fashion tips with.
Although, no boys had really caught his attention either. They all picked on
him for various ridiculous reasons... Except Tom. Tom had never once paid any
mind to his girlish tendencies, much less mocked him about it.
Finally entering his bedroom, he flopped onto his bed, arm covering his eyes.
Hopefully tomorrow Tom would return and things could go back to normal.
 
It was Friday and Bill was really starting to get worried. He was restless all
day, and those idiots from yesterday wouldn't let up their taunting. Time
passed agonizingly slow.
Walking back alone from school definitely didn't feel right. Bill felt very
alone without Tom and he wondered why he'd been gone so long. Was he sick? He
had come to school with a cold before... Maybe it was worse than a cold. Maybe
something happened to him, something bad. Bill panicked at the alarming
thoughts that plagued him.
After finishing his homework, he still had some time to kill before dinner. He
deemed TV to be a good idea, at least then he wouldn't be left alone with his
thoughts of anguish and distress.
 
"Bill!"
Bill woke with a start, clutching at the edges of the plush beige couch.
Gordon's head peeked through the open doorway.
"Dinner's ready in 5," he said more softly this time, smiling at the dazed
teen.
"Um, okay..." Bill rubbed at the corners of his eyes, getting up to set the
table.
When he was done, he feebly lowered himself into his chair. Slouching, he
tipped his head back, closing his heavy eyelids.
He jolted when a plate clanked down onto the wooden table. Gordon looked
strangely at him but said nothing, taking his own seat opposite Bill. He served
Bill and himself and paused, correcting the utensils' positions.
Bill looked down at his own -- oh -- and did the same, proceeding with munching
on the crunchy fish sticks. Then his chewing slowed to a stop.
Maybe Tom was in trouble. Maybe that Tuesday night Tom had collapsed from
hunger and never made it home. Maybe he was crawling in the dirt somewhere,
pushing out a wheeze-like cry of help, just waiting for someone to find him and
save him.
Bill needed to see him, maybe he should just excuse himself and go right now.
He had to go check on him, he had to-
"Bill?" His head snapped up to an apprehensive expression.
"Huh?" He blinked, his eyes dry, probably from blanking out and staring into
space for too long.
"Is something wrong?"
Bill looked at his father for a moment and deflated, resting his forehead on
his hands.
"I'm worried about Tom, I mean, maybe it's stupid, but he hasn't been to school
since Tuesday a-and I just don't know what happened to him. I mean, it must be
something serious if he missed almost all week! Seriously, what if he's hurt or
something? I-I gotta go see-"
"Bill," Gordon interrupted his son's raving.
He stared with wide, fearful eyes, frantically clawing at the table.
"Bill...what's gotten into you? Why are you so...fixated on this 'Tom' boy?"
"Wha- I'm not!" he stammered. Gordon's patronizing gaze disconcerted him.
"To an outsider it would seem like...you two are fags together or something
like that." With that thought, Gordon winced dramatically, shaking his head.
Bill's jaw dropped for a second before almost immediately clicking shut.
"What if I am!" he yelled, outraged. How could he say such a thing? The way his
face scrunched in disgust completely unsettled Bill.
"What are you saying? You're my son! I know you!"
"Apparently not," Bill muttered quietly.
Gordon chuckled dryly. "Stop being stupid, Bill. You're not gay!"
"I never said I was," Bill spat back, glaring daggers at his father. 
"Then what are you saying?" 
Bill rolled his eyes and rose from his seat, muttering a quiet "I'm not hungry"
before running up the stairs and into his room, slamming the door behind him.
He groaned loudly as he fell face first into his bed, burying his face in his
pillow before letting out a loud, frustrated shout. Shouting turned into
screaming, then screaming into yelling profanities. Soon, he found himself
sobbing, curling up into a ball.
Not once had he felt ashamed of his sexuality. Not when he'd been sneered at or
chased or even hit. But now, knowing that his father would never accept who he
was, he hated it. He hated himself.
 
===============================================================================
 
Emotional scars always take longer to heal.
It had been 3 days since his last beating, most of his visible scars were gone,
his black eye faded, yet he still didn't feel stable enough to leave his bed.
He hadn't eaten the entire duration of his physical and emotional recovery.
Partially because he felt too weak to leave his room, but also because, even if
he did get up, he probably wouldn't have been fed anyway. 
He'd never acted this way before, he usually took his beatings with a grain of
salt, and kept it moving, but, for him, this was the last straw. Not only did
his father knock him unconscious and then refuse to take him to the hospital,
but his mother didn't lift a finger to try and help him.
It was obvious that no one cared about him.
Now, Tom wasn't necessarily suicidal, he didn't want to die, per se, he just
wanted to get the hell out of this house, and killing himself seemed like the
easiest way.
Suicide wasn't his first choice, because in Tom's eyes, it was like giving up,
letting the people who put you down win. But he had no other option. 
His first thought was to run away, but if he left all by himself he'd surely
get killed. Then he thought of his relatives -- he had none. Friends? Bill; but
Gordon wasn't exactly his biggest fan. So, then, suicide it was.
He would've done it sooner, but each time he felt ready, one person fogged his
thoughts.
Bill.
He knew how bad this would hurt him, Tom was his only friend after all, but
he'd held off long enough. It was time.
Chapter End Notes
     Don't forget to comment and give kudos! :)
***** Chapter 3 *****
Chapter Notes
See the end of the chapter for notes
                                                                               
      
 
 "Bill!"
"Mhh, Tomi." Bill mumbled in his sleep, turning over.
"Bill!"
"Mhmmm?" He mumbled again as he clutched his body pillow closer.
"Bill!"
The raven haired teen awoke with a start, jolting upwards. He breathed deeply,
wiping his damp locks from his forehead.
"It was just a dream." He sighed sadly, falling back onto his mattress, staring
up at the ceiling. This wasn't the first time he had gotten so worked up over a
dream...
"BILL!"
He nearly fell off of his bed with how fast he moved, scrambling onto the floor
before running over to the large bay window. When he swung the doors open and
looked down he saw Tom, a bright smile on the younger teen's face. Bill's heart
fluttered in his chest.
"What are you doing?" He hissed, leaning over the window sill to watch the
younger teen begin to climb up the side of his house, hands gripping onto
specific bricks with a practiced grace. 
"Rapunzel, Rapunzel," Tom said a bit breathlessly, extending one of his hands
outwards for dramatic effect, "let down your hair!"
"Be careful, you idiot!" Bill scolded, but he couldn't stop the smile that
spread across his face. 
He stepped back when Tom finally made it to the top, allowing the dreadheaded
boy in. 
"What are you doing here?" Bill asked quietly, taking a seat on his bed,
looking up at the younger boy with confusion in his eyes.
"Nothing," Tom said nonchalantly, running his fingers along the black sheets on
Bill's bed, trying to remember the feeling, embedding it into his brain. "Just
wanted to say hi."
When Tom smiled, Bill's face turned beet red. Thank God for darkness.
"Oh," was his reply, looking down at his lap as Tom plopped down beside him,
wrapping an arm around his shoulders. Tom's hand stroked Bill's arm up and down
for a moment, stopping when he felt like he'd be able to remember the soft
texture.
If in death he could dream, he only wanted to dream of Bill.
Bill furrowed his eyebrows and looked up at Tom confusedly. "What the hell are
you doing?"
Tom smiled in response, hugging his best friend closer. "Nothing."
Bill pushed Tom's hand off of him, shifting to face him head on. "You're being
weird," Bill stated, crossing his arms, a slight frown gracing his features.
"What's going on?"
Tom didn't get a chance to answer, Bill's eyes suddenly widening, smacking him
on the arm, missing a large bruise by a few inches.
"I forgot I'm supposed to be mad at you! Where the hell have you been?! I was
worried about you- you...you...you dillhole!"
Tom laughed, clutching his arm in mock pain. "I'm sorry! I was sick!"
"That's total bullshit Tom," Bill squinted his eyes, hitting him again, in the
same spot thank God. "And stop laughing! This isn't funny."
Tom's laughter did stop, abruptly, and he reached out to touch Bill's shoulder,
his hand running down the curve of his inner arm to his wrist.
This was all too intimate to be normal.
"You really were worried, huh?"
"Duh," Bill said, looking away, his face heating up once again.
The next thing Tom did caught Bill completely off guard. Suddenly, he was
pulled into a hard chest, a skinny arm wrapping around his waist and the
familiar smell of Tom clouding his senses. Bill's eyebrows knit together once
again but he hugged back, inhaling the scent of weed and Axe body spray. 
Tom ran his fingers through Bill's soft, gel-free hair and smiled. He was glad
that his last memory of Bill would be this -- no makeup, no hair gel, no
outrageous outfit. Don't get him wrong, he loved that about Bill, how he wasn't
afraid to be himself. But he loved this more. Just Bill, plain and simple.
"Is everything okay?" Bill whispered, nuzzling his face into Tom's neck.
"You're hugging me like you're saying goodbye."
 "I just missed you, okay?" He pulled back to look into Bill's dark chocolate
eyes. Bill stared back but yawned two seconds in, letting go of Tom to cover
his mouth.
"Aaaah...'m tired."
"Yeah..." Tom looked down wearily as Bill crawled back into the confines of his
bed, readying himself for what he was about to do.
Standing, he turned to get one last look at Bill, wanting to cherish their
final moments.
Bill's arm was extended, covers clutched in his hand, a silent invitation.
Tom's icy heart thawed at the sight.
"It's small, but...it's okay." He shrugged a dainty shoulder.
He looked down at his baggy jeans, grimacing at them.
"What are you doing?" He stopped unbuckling his belt and took in Bill's tense
expression.
"I'm not sleeping in these, are you nuts?"
"Oh," Bill sheepishly replied, internally sighing in a mixture of relief and
disappointment.
After letting his pants fall to his ankles, Tom stepped out of them and into
the warmth of Bill's bed.
It was a little cramped, there was no denying that. But it was cozy.
Bill felt comforted by Tom's embrace and found himself quickly succumbing to
his body's needs.
Tom listened to Bill's breathing slow til soft snores could be heard. He gazed
at Bill's moonlit features, gingerly placing a hand on his unmarred cheek. He
tenderly brushed his thumb over the smooth skin, and his heart skipped a
beat. Just a few more hours.
With that thought, Tom contentedly drifted off into a restful sleep.
 
===============================================================================
 
I love every last one of you 
I love you, Bill
I'm going to miss everyone
Tom sighed, massaging his throbbing temples as he stared down at the paper
before him. He had never been good with words.
Despite everything you've done
I forgive you
I won't haunt you when I'm a ghost I swear
He finally decided to take a break, letting the pencil fall from his hand and
his head fall onto the wooden desk. He didn't want anything long and dramatic,
he just wanted to get right to the point; but he couldn't. There was just so
much to say, and he didn't know where to start. He glanced over at Bill's
slumbering form, his heart dropping and soaring all at once.
He turned back to his paper, picking the pencil up once again.
I love everyone in my life, but someone has to take the blame. I can't say it's
no one's fault, because then I'd still be the lying asshole you're used to -
- that's not how I want to be remembered. I want to be remembered as a strong,
smart guy who tried his best to stick around. A guy who tried, and tried, and
tried so hard until it felt like my fucking head was going to explode.
Tom glanced back at Bill once more.
I want to be remembered as a guy who loved. Yes, love, at 14. I know what
you're thinking, "you don't even know what love is." Well, shut the hell up,
that's not even what I meant. I do love Bill. I'd touch the sky for him, I'd go
to the ends of the world for him. I'd die for him if I had to. But the love I
have for him isn't romantic. It's not platonic either. It's something else,
something I've never seen before.
He tapped his pencil against the paper a few times, thinking.
I stole a book from the library once. It was about reincarnation and shit like
that. There was an entire page filled with quotes from this couple, who had
claimed to be lovers, reincarnated, talking about how they felt about each
other; it described how I feel about Bill exactly. We were meant to meet, I was
meant-
"Tom?" Bill's groggy voice cut through his thoughts, and he turned to see him
sitting up on his elbow, rubbing his eyes tiredly. "What are you doing?"
Tom tried to discreetly shield the paper with his body, inching over to hide it
from view. "Nothing."
Bill frowned, sitting up completely now.
"What's that behind your back?" he asked accusingly.
"It's nothing."
"Stop lying to me Tom," a hint of warning in his tone.
The blond teen was silenced by the simple request, deciding to not say anything
at all.
Bill swung his long legs over the edge of the bed before standing, making his
way over to Tom, his drowsiness ultimately forgotten. Tom hastily grabbed the
piece of paper, balling it up in his fist. Bill towered over the sitting boy,
placing one hand on his narrow hip and holding the other one out expectantly.
"Give it to me."
Tom frowned and creased his eyebrows. "No."
"No?"
"No."
They stared at each other for a moment, Bill crossing his arms and tapping his
foot impatiently.
"Tom, if you don't give me the goddamn paper right now-"
"No."
"-I swear to God I'm going to lose my mind-"
"No."
"Tom, just give me the paper!"
"I said no! Why can't no ever just mean no? No, no, no, no!"
Bill clenched his jaw in frustration. He hated being told no, and Tom knew
that. Bill's anger rapidly dissipated, though, once a plan formed in his
devious little mind. He fought back a smirk, donning a cute pout instead.
"Why are you being so secretive, Tom? I thought I was your best friend..."
Tom rolled his eyes at Bill's theatrics but decided to play along. "You are my
best friend, Bill."
Bill sniffled. "Then, why-"
"Hey, can we cut the bullshit," Tom retorted, standing up, the crumpled piece
of paper still held in his hand. "I said no, no means no. OK? Can you go back
to bed now?"
"No," Bill said firmly, crossing his arms. "And don't tell me to go to bed
again Tom, because no means no."
Tom laughed at Bill's mocking. "I really-HEY!"
Bill snickered in triumph, holding the wrinkled ball of paper in the air like a
trophy before darting across the room, backing himself up into a wall. He
quickly unraveled the paper as Tom began to run towards him.
"Bill, you don't want to read that, just give it back!"
The older teen only snickered again, eyes squinting to read the messy
handwriting.
So, I've decided to kill myself.
Tom sighed and ran a hand through his messy dreads when Bill's face utterly
dropped, any and all lightness effectively dwindling.
"What is this?"
Tom didn't reply.
"What the hell is this?!"
"Be quiet, you don't want your dad to wake up."
Bill's jaw went slack. "Fuck my dad! Fuck-what is this?!"
"What the hell does it look like, Bill?"
Bill balled the paper back up, letting it tumble to the ground, and stared
icily at the boy before him. "Are you serious?"
Tom remained silent. 
"Were you seriously thinking about doing this? About leaving me?" Tears welled
up in his eyes as he clenched his fists. "Leaving the one person who needs you
the most?!"
Bill had never felt so betrayed in his life. Didn't Tom know how much he needed
him?
"Bill, I-"
Bill cut him off, shoving him into the opposite wall. Tom flinched as his sore
back was hit, but he stayed quiet. "Is this how much I mean to you? You can
just leave me without even a thought?!" 
"Bill, it's-"
"You didn't stop to think, hm, I wonder who's keeping Bill alive."  Bill's
voice wobbled with the last word, tears trailing down his face, and he wiped
them away with his arm. "Well, it's you, Tom. It's you. You're responsible for
me, you know. I rely on you..."
Tom sighed and seized Bill by his thin waist, pulling him into his arms.
"I'm sorry," he apologized in a soft yet weary tone as the taller of the two
melted into his embrace. "I didn't even think about that-"
"Of course you didn't," Bill sniffled, pulling away. "All you do is think about
girls and shit." He wiped his eyes, before shoving Tom once again, his hand
slamming into a bruise on his shoulder. "Am I not enough or something?"
Tom's face contorted in a look of excruciating pain, eyes watering as he nearly
collapsed. Bill held him upright, however, harshly squeezing another bruise on
Tom's arm, causing him to cry out.
"What's going on?" Bill asked frantically as he sat Tom on the edge of the bed.
"I didn't even shove you hard..."
"I guess you're getting stronger." Tom chuckled humorlessly, his hand shielding
the arm Bill just grabbed. 
"Tom..."
"It's nothing."
Bill squinted, placing his hands on Tom's shoulders before adding the slightest
bit of pressure.
Tom didn't budge.
Bill's hands wandered lower to Tom's chest -- he bit back a yelp.
When the raven haired boy's perfectly manicured hands grazed his ribs only
slightly, a groan slipped from between his tightly sealed lips, and he squeezed
his eyes shut. 
Bill sighed as he quickly removed his hands, wrapping them around the hem of
Tom's shirt instead, lifting it to expose the teen's battered abdomen. 
"God, Tom," Bill breathed as he examined the discolored patches of skin. He ran
a finger over a big one on the teen's bony ribs. "Who did this to you?"
Bill didn't seem affected by Tom's lack of response. "Does it hurt?"
"Yeah." Tom sighed, tilting his head back. Bill's soft touch was oddly
soothing; he wanted more.
As if reading his mind, Bill's wide, chestnut eyes blinked up at him curiously
as he leaned forward, watching Tom's reaction. When his lips pressed against a
small bruise on the younger boy's chest, his eyes fluttered shut, long
eyelashes tickling Tom's skin. 
Despite the painful, nervous feeling swimming at the pit of his stomach and the
soft shaking of his hands, Bill continued, moving down a bit to press his lips
to another small, almost completely faded bruise. 
"Bill," Tom murmured quietly. "What are you doing?" Tom had been in a situation
like this with a girl before, but that had led to...
"I'm helping," Bill said, just as quiet, eyes glued to Tom's chest, his hand
letting go of Tom's shirt, instead, slipping under the oversized fabric,
tentatively brushing against his equally bruised collarbones. 
The air was thick, and Tom felt like he was going to suffocate. His chest
heaved, his breath catching as Bill nestled his face into his neck, slipping
his hands around to Tom's back. "Who did this to you?" he asked softly. Tom sat
there, dumbfounded, at a loss for words. "Was it someone at school?"
Bill felt Tom's head shake slowly.
Bill just lay against the boy's clavicle for a moment, affectionately stroking
his back. Who could possibly want to hurt Tom...?
"Do you owe someone money?" Bill questioned, abruptly sitting up, staring at
his best friend with wide eyes. "How much? I'll give it to you-"
Tom cut him off with a chuckle and a hand on his hip, personal space completely
forgotten. "No, it's not-" Tom stopped to frown. "Well, I do owe some people
some money, but that's not what this is about."
Bill sighed and rested his cheek on Tom's shoulder, deciding that there was no
use in asking, Tom obviously didn't want to tell him. 
Tom tried his best to keep his composure when Bill pressed a chaste kiss to his
throat. It's not like they hadn't...they've...
This was just different; more intimate, more...
Tom didn't know, but he liked it. 
"It was my dad," he mumbled, and Bill stopped mid kiss, lips pressed against
Tom's neck once again.
"What?" he asked, pulling back slowly. "Your dad did this to you?"
Tom, once more, didn't reply.
Bill's eyebrows pushed together as he retracted his hands. "Why...?
"Why not? I'm an easy target."
Bill pursed his lips. "Can I see?"
Tom only got a chance to nod before his shirt was being pulled over his head
and carelessly thrown to the ground. Bill's eyes were wet as he looked over the
various marks, some black and blue, some fading to a muddy yellow color. He
couldn't even imagine what Tom had to go through to get that many...
Before he knew it, tears were yet again falling down his cheeks. Tom sighed,
tugging the boy back into his chest, stroking his hair. "Stop crying, it's ok."
"It's not ok," Bill sobbed. "I don't know why this happened to you, I..." he
turned his head, mumbling into Tom's jaw. "I love you," Bill pulled back,
cupping the dread-head's jaw.
"Why didn't you tell me?" He asked, pressing a chaste kiss to Tom's
unsuspecting lips. "You could've told me," another kiss. "I'm always here for
you."
"I know." Tom mumbled, the next kiss following soon after.
"You could've told me you were sad," a kiss to the cheek.
"You could've told me he was hurting you," a kiss to the jaw. "I would've
helped you."
"I know." Tom responded, this time, instead of waiting for a kiss, initiating
it, lips pressed firmly against Bill's. 
The butterflies in Bill's stomach turned to stone, weighing down the bottom of
his stomach. 
Tom pulled back with a slight smile, and Bill was sure his face was the color
of a firetruck.
"Kiss me again," he said. "Here."
Bill looked down to see Tom pointing to a bruise on his shoulder. Bill glanced
back up at him, unsure, nevertheless ducking down to press his lips to it,
softly. 
Tom pointed to a large blotch on the opposite side of his body, close to his
ribs. Bill dropped to his knees on the carpeted floor before Tom, bringing his
lips to the tender flesh. Tom let out an appreciative sigh. "Kiss me here-"
"What the hell is going on?"
Chapter End Notes
     Thank you for reading!
     And thanks everyone for the comments and kudos. ^3^
***** Chapter 4 *****
Chapter Notes
     Thank you so much everyone for the comments and kudos! Means a lot. ♥
                                              
 
"I apologize for calling so late," Gordon said, placing two cups of coffee in
front of the glaring parents before him. He forced an awkward smile, taking a
seat on the opposite side of the table next to Bill. "But it was urgent."
"What could possibly be urgent enough to call us at ten o'clock? Isn't that
family time or some shit?" Jörg mumbled offhandedly as he picked up the little
tea cup, his large hand dwarfing the delicate fine china. 
"Yes, well," Gordon paused to take a sip from his own cup, "you couldn't
possibly be that worried about family time -- which is actually quite important
-- as your child was here," Gordon raised his eyebrows, "without a chaperone
might I add."
Tom rolled his eyes from the seat on Jörg's right. Gordon could be such a pansy
sometimes...
"Dad," Bill interjected, "me and Tom do things unsupervised all the time-"
"This is an adult conversation, little boy," Jörg said harshly, giving the
scrawny teen a once over before chuckling. "Someone needs to teach you some
manners..."
Tom scowled at the familiar look in his father's eyes; he knew it very well.
He noticed Bill shifting uncomfortably under his father's unabashed gaze, and
he sighed.
"Can we hurry up and get this over with?" he groaned under his breath,
slouching in his chair and crossing his arms, glaring menacingly at Gordon.
"Right," he cleared his throat, clearly aware of the tension in the room. "Yes,
of course. I called you both here tonight to share with you what I've just
witnessed, it was truly disturbing."
Bill glowered and Jörg smirked wickedly. God, what he wouldn't do to get some
alone time with that boy, maybe teach him a lesson or two...
Once again infuriated by his father's disquieting gaze, Tom slammed his hand
down onto the hard wooden surface, causing both Bill and Gordon to jump; his
parents, being used to his sudden outbursts, remained unaffected. "Spit it
out!"
"Tom," Bill said firmly and the dread-headed teen looked over at him for the
first time since his parents had arrived. He shook his head disapprovingly,
almost warningly, and Tom deflated with a sigh, slouching in his chair once
again. 
Jörg stared at him with a shocked expression for a moment before laughing,
taking a sip of his coffee. "He must be good," he chuckled, "to have you
whipped like that, Tom."
Bill's eyebrows furrowed for what seemed like the hundredth time that night and
looked to Tom in confusion. The other boy just shrugged.
"Excuse him," Simone spoke up, finally mustering up enough courage to speak;
though, her voice still trembled with fear, afraid of slipping up. The last
thing she wanted was Jörg causing a scene. "What exactly did you see?"
"Well, first I heard them yelling, arguing about something," Gordon said.
"That's what woke me up. So, like any good parent would, I went to go check on
Bill, but as I get closer to the door, I hear Tom telling Bill to kiss him
in...various places, and when I walk in I see Bill kneeling in front of him,
kissing his-"
"Dick?" Jörg asked. Gordon grimaced.
"Chest. That, by the way, is bruised to all hell."
"We're aware," Simone said. "He had a...skateboarding accident."
"Wait," Jörg interjected, turning to look at his son, "did you get your dick
sucked or what?"
Tom stared blankly at him.
Jörg rolled his eyes and redirected them towards Bill. "What's this little
tramp's name again?"
"Excuse me?!" Gordon raised his voice.
"What's his goddamn name!?"
"It's Bill!" Gordon shouted. "Our sons have been close friends for nearly 3
years!"
Jörg ignored the last statement, smirking slightly, turning back to the raven
haired teen who had his elbow on the table, chin rested in his palm as he
watched the encounter with an air of confusion.
Jörg repressed a groan; he looked innocent as hell.
"So, Bill, did you suck my son off or what?" 
Gordon eyed him with an equally disgusted and baffled expression.
"No, sir," Bill said politely, just as he had been taught, before mumbling out
a soft "not yet anyway."
A large grin spread across Tom's face and he couldn't stop the chuckle that
tumbled from his pierced lips. Bill reciprocated it, and soon they erupted into
a full blown laughing fit.
Gordon smacked Bill's thigh, but that didn't deter the boy from smiling wildly
at Tom, still giggling softly.
"You see that! Bill only ever acts this way when Tom is around; he's a bad
influence."
"What the hell do you want me to do about that?" Jörg asked, and Gordon pursed
his lips. "Tom is no longer allowed to see Bill."
"What?"
"Dad!"
"I'm sorry Bill, it's for your own good. Look what he's doing to you! Turning
you into some obedient little hussy! That is unacceptable. Who knows what he
would've done to you, had I not intervened."
"You can't..." Bill's chest heaved. "You can't just do that!"
"Of course I can. And I am. I don't care what it takes, changing your school
schedule, moving; he's not coming anywhere near you ever again."
"That's fine with me." Jörg muttered, crossing his arms.
"Well it's not fucking fine with me!" Tom shouted, rising from the table. "I
don't know what you think you're capable of, but you could never split us up."
Gordon rose, glaring at Tom. 
"Watch me."
===============================================================================
 
Face buried in his fluffy black pillow, Bill petted the velvety sheets and
whined at the emptiness. How he wished Tom could magically reappear by his
side. A tremor ran up his spine at the thought of what had happened between
them. Tantalizing heat washed through his body and he groaned, rolling
over.  He didn't want to wait until Monday to see the beautiful, imperfect
being he cared so much about.
Well, today was Sunday...but still! It was such a long and tormenting wait, and
it was only 12:48.
Gordon had come upstairs to let him know lunch was ready, but Bill had no
appetite and respectfully declined; as much as he wanted to yell and scream at
him. After what he'd done, Bill's regard for his father drastically
depreciated.
And the way Jörg had conducted himself... What a deranged fuck. First, he
pummeled his only son for no apparent reason, then he eyeballed Bill like some
piece of meat, drooling almost; what was next? Bill was revolted.
Sighing wistfully, he sat up to go take a shower.
Hand on the doorknob, he glanced back at his room, a spot on the floor catching
his attention. He contemplated the small crumpled paper, his eyebrows
imperceptibly drawing up.
Picking it up, he smoothed out the somewhat worn note and studied it for a
minute.
I do love Bill. I'd touch the sky for him, I'd go to the ends of the world for
him.
He gazed fondly but sadly at the scrawl, reading on.
I'd die for him if I had to.
It's something else, something I've never seen before.
We were meant to meet.
Bill's heart did flip-flops in his chest. Shit, did Tom really mean all that?
He inhaled deeply, squeezing his eyelids shut. Releasing his breath, he
carefully set the paper down on his desk and went on to the bathroom.
Stepping into the shower, Bill took his time, lathering the coconut scented
soap and just basking in the calming sensation the hot water brought.
Laying back against the cerulean tiled wall, he let the spray pelt his flushed
chest, his mind wandering.
What would he have done had Tom went through with...it? Bill shuddered at the
horrendous alternate reality his mind was imagining. Finding Tom, cold and
lifeless on the floor, crimson blood trickling down his blanched skin, his
departing note close by... Bill immediately banished the thought. He couldn't
fathom his life without the other teen.
At last, he subsequently got out of the shower, wrapping himself up in a navy
towel. Swinging his door open, he nearly jumped out of his skin. Speak of the
devil, there Tom was, perched on the ledge of his window like it was nothing.
As if somehow sensing his presence, Tom's head swiveled around. Grinning like
an idiot, he motioned with his hand, probably so Bill would open up.
Bill's expression sunk, moving toward the window and shifting the stupid lock
into Tom's view, mentally cursing his father. Tom rubbernecked and scowled at
the offending piece of metal for a moment, and then his face lit up. He held up
his index finger, waggling it keenly, and hustled back down the flank of Bill's
house.
Bill watched Tom run back to his house and fleetingly frowned before
remembering he was still half naked. He hastily slipped on a pair of boxers and
a shirt, vigorously drying his hair when a knock startled him. Spinning around,
he was again greeted by Tom, except this time, he proudly waved a small
notepad. Bill went digging for his own in the cluttered drawer of his desk. He
readied himself to write, clicking his pen, but -- thunk -- Tom was faster. A
messy sorry was plastered onto the glass pane and Bill gave him an admonishing
look.
It's not your fault idiot, he jotted down, and after a short pause added: what
happened when you went home? Hesitantly, he supplemented: you're okay, right?
You didn't try anything...stupid...?
He ripped off the page and positioned it parallel to Tom's eyes. They flicked
from left to right -- Bill fidgeted nervously -- and softened, meeting Bill's
own worry-filled gaze.
Tom scribbled on a new page:
no
not after what happened between us
They lingered, staring at each other, pulses quickening.
Tom stole the sheet back, annexing a small I miss you.
Me too, Bill returned, shortly thereafter plucking back the paper.
I fucking hate my dad
Tom's features screwed up.
Tell me about it...
I don't want him to hurt you anymore, Bill wrote, and Tom smiled softly,
painfully. He didn't know what to say. 
I'd do whatever it takes, Bill added a second later.
what could you possibly do?
you could live with me
Tom chuckled lightly.
you and I both know that would never happen
I haven't stopped worrying about you
I hate worrying
I just wish you were ok
I'm ok
you're not ok
Tom sighed; Bill was always right.
if he hurts you again I want you to come here
Bill watched with furrowed eyebrows as Tom hesitated, the dread-headed boy
tugging at his lip ring. He finally sighed and scribbled something quickly, and
when it was held up to the window, Bill grinned.
ok.
***** Chapter 5 *****
Chapter Notes
     Sorry for taking longer to update, HittingSasukeIsFun is having wifi
     problemssssasdfghjk :c which unfortunately will last for an
     indeterminate amount of time, meaning updates will be slower from now
     on. (more or less every 3 days)
     Anyway thanks again for reading our story and for the comments and
     kudos. ♥♥♥
     Enjoy!
                                                                               
        
 
Bill sighed, causing the window to fog as he stared up at the night sky.
It was almost 2 in the morning, and he couldn't sleep. Usually at times like
this, Bill would sneak out from the window he was leaned against, maybe paying
a visit to Tom's room, or maybe heading down to the river. 
He hated being locked in.
Bill turned to glance at the clock on his nightstand. It was officially 2:00
a.m. Great. With another sigh, he turned back to the window.
He looked fixedly out into the darkness, studying the twinkling lights in the
onyx sky; not a cloud to be seen. There was nothing to be seen, actually. Just
houses, really. Bill dreamed of living in a city that never sleeps, never
ending cars on the streets, people, parties; he hated living in such a small,
utterly boring place. Nothing interesting ever made the local news, there was
never anything to see. Suddenly, though, movement caught his eye. A heap of
baggy clothes and unkempt blond hair moved in his direction -- Tom! What was he
doing outside at this hour?
As he got closer, Bill squinted and saw a sanguine streak under his nose. Upon
realization, Bill felt a sinking sensation. He also noticed he was
infinitesimally limping. Fuck. Bill's throat constricted, tears threatening to
spill out at any second. He scrabbled at the glass as Tom looked up at him.
He haltingly climbed up, much in contrast to other instances. Bill watched
sorely as Tom awkwardly positioned himself, wincing all the while.
I can't stay here anymore
Bill hurriedly fetched his own notepad, but, putting his pen to the paper with
a quivering hand, he was at a loss for words.
He peered up at Tom and Tom stared right back at him.
Bill's mind was clouded with thoughts of I love you, I love you, he can't hurt
you, I need you, I love you; his best friend's safety was his biggest concern.
After a pregnant moment, Bill shakily etched out two words.
let's leave
Tom's eyes darted to Bill's determined gaze, as if to ascertain his intentions.
where would we go?
It doesn't matter, Bill wrote quickly, as long as we're together. As long as
you're ok.
Tom hesitated, glancing back at his own house. He knew he wouldn't miss it,
there was nothing for him there. But Bill; Bill had the whole world ahead of
him. So much talent, so much potential. He could really go far, and Tom was
only holding him back.
Tom's head snapped back to the window when Bill's palm rested against it,
watching Tom with a hopeful expression. The dread-headed teen placed his hand
over Bill's.
"I love you," the raven haired boy mouthed, and Tom rested his forehead against
the cool glass, sighing, and Bill mirrored him. "I love you." he repeated, eyes
fluttering shut.
Tom looked down and, with his free hand, speedily jotted something down.
get your stuff ready
I'll be back in 5 mins
Bill promptly nodded as Tom shakily rose, making his way back down the wall of
his house. He stood and ran a hand through his inky hair. I can't believe I'm
doing this. He flicked on the lamp on the desk, and hastily grabbed his
backpack, dumping the contents out. He ran to his closet, pulling out clothes
and stuffing them into the bag at random. He snatched his piggy bank and shoved
it into the bag as well. There had to be at least €200 in there. He made a
little checklist in his head, stopping in the middle of the room. Clothes,
money, shoes. He sighed, adrenaline coursing through his veins. He moved
jerkily, breathing spasmodically, trying his best to be stealthy as he packed
his bag to the brim.
A soft tap against the window made him jump, nearly dropping the bag. His
perfectly manicured hand rose to cover his mouth. That reminded him... He held
up one finger to Tom before opening his nightstand drawer, grabbing a small
bottle of black nail polish. No more getting his nails professionally done...
He gasped and spun around snagging his coal eyeliner. Tom glared at him and he
couldn't help but smile. 
Bill finally made his way back over to the window, grabbing the lock with a
frown, looking up at Tom with furrowed brows. Tom suddenly began pulling his
long shirt over his head, and Bill flushed, blinking a few times. Their bodies
were definitely very different... Tom's chest wasn't flat like his, there where
ridges and creases and he counted 6 abs. His arms where chiseled just enough to
make Bill's mouth run dry. He must work out...
Bill was too entranced with Tom's body that he didn't notice the blond boy
wrapping the shirt around his fist, a small smirk on his face when he noticed
the other boy gaping at him. Tom motioned to step back, and when Bill did, his
fist suddenly collided with the window, shattering it into hundreds of shards.
Bill's eyes widened comically as Tom grabbed him by his collar, pressing their
lips together. Tom's tongue shoved his way into his mouth, something he'd never
tried before, but before he could attempt to explore the foreign intrusion, Tom
pulled away.
He was suddenly hyper aware of the anxious tension, the sound of dogs barking
angrily, the lights of houses suddenly flickering on, everyone curious about
the loud noise of a smashing window.
"Come on!" Tom said urgently, grabbing Bill's hand and tugging him out of the
window. Tom crawled down the side of the house first, holding out his arms to
Bill, just in case. The taller boy let Tom help him down before grasping his
hand once again, the two taking off down the street, not looking back even
once.
 
===============================================================================
 
"I think we're far enough," Bill gasped out. 
They slowed to a stop and all that was heard was a mingle of harsh panting,
having sprinted for ten minutes straight.
Regaining their composure, they scanned the area. They were on a road dotted by
bushes and surrounded by pastures and farmland. Bill sighed; he hated the
outdoors.
"There," Tom said, pointing behind Bill. The grassy field stretched out a few
hundred meters before it was cut short by a forest. Perfect.
They neared the fence on the opposite side of the street and Tom carefully held
the barbed wire up for Bill to slip underneath, following suit. The two
teens fell into step beside each other in comfortable silence.
Bill felt excited, he was practically buzzing. He looked over at Tom and
admired his handsome features. He wore a mask of concentration, lost in
thought, probably trying to work out what the hell they were going to do. Maybe
Bill should have been trying to figure it out too, but he couldn't keep down
the urges. He craved and itched for Tom's attention. He glanced down at the
other boy's hand, swinging evenly next to him as he walked. Bill only hesitated
a second before timidly slipping his into Tom's.
Tom seemed surprised at first but smiled sweetly a moment later, gently
squeezing back in an almost reassuring way.
Before they knew it, they reached the wall of trees, seeping in. Their hands
disconnected as the terrain became irregular and rocky. Bill struggled in vain
to keep his footing and, after almost tripping for the third time, Tom sighed
dramatically, placing a steadying hand on his hip. Bill flushed and grinned
sheepishly. Fortunately, a few minutes later it ameliorated and they found a
considerable patch of moss, deeming it a good spot to spend the night.
"Wait," Bill said, crossing his arms as Tom set his backpack up against a tree.
"I have to sleep on the ground?"
"What did you expect? Luxury hotels?" Tom said, taking a seat on the slightly
itchy ground. His face scrunched up in discomfort, but he internalized it.
"We're not safe yet. We can't show our faces around here."
Bill groaned but acquiesced, taking a seat next to the blond boy who waited
with open arms, grinning when he pulled Bill into his arms. The two lowered to
the ground, Bill's head on Tom's chest and Tom's head supported by his free
arm.
Lying close together, they gazed at the tremendous, dark sky. The moon was
bright and the silvery light streamed through the branches overhead. It was
almost like something out of a movie.
Tom rolled onto his side -- Bill mimicking the action -- and clasped their
hands together between their chests. He stared into the crepuscular orbs,
losing himself in them. He couldn't believe they were doing this. Never in his
life did Tom think their bond would change this drastically, especially not
seemingly overnight. It was like they both woke up one day with a new-found
love for each other. At least, that's what he thought. His reverie
was however cut short only a moment later when Bill's voice resounded in the
stillness of the night.
"Tom?"
"Hm?" He closed his eyes, shuffling closer to Bill's warm body. Opening his
eyes, he was somewhat startled by the proximity of their faces; regardless, he
advanced further, giving him eskimo kisses.
"Uhhh..." Bill lost his train of thought, feeling intoxicated by Tom's
ministrations and unusual amount of affection. Bill had watched him interact
with girls before -- jealously, of course -- but it still came as a shock; he
never thought it would be directed towards him. 
Tom snaked his arm around Bill's waist, lingeringly skimming his fingertips
from his hip up to his back, flustering him even more. Reeling, Bill gripped
the other boy's shoulder to steady himself and Tom yanked him into his chest.
Bill let out a small gasp but quickly reciprocated, sneaking his hand around
the back of his head. He buried his blushing face in the crook of Tom's neck,
brushing his nose and lips over the sensitive flesh. Tom shuddered, pulling
away enough to look heatedly into the brunet's eyes, glinting in the moonlight.
The tension between them was almost palpable, both breathing heavily. Bill
moved in, and Tom parroted him, lips mere centimeters apart. Bill's hot breath
on him drove Tom crazy. He caught the older teen's lips gently, sweetly, unlike
earlier that night, and electric heat surged through them.
The two precipitated themselves, mouths moving frantically over each other,
tongues clashing. Bill heedlessly tried to follow the more experienced teen,
the grasp on his ashy dreads tightening. Abruptly, Bill broke the kiss, and Tom
stared with hooded, lust-clouded eyes.
"Maybe we should," he took a deep breath, "slow down a little..." Tom sobered
at that.
"Are you okay?" he asked warily.
Bill blinked at Tom in surprise. "Yeah! Of course! No, it's nothing like that,
I just..." He eased himself down, cuddling into the younger teen's chest. "It's
late, and I'm tired..." he rasped out and affectionately rubbed his face
against Tom, inhaling his scent.
Grunting, Tom twisted himself around to pluck two shirts from his backpack,
laying one on Bill and the other on himself. Bill snaked his hands underneath
Tom's makeshift blanket and Tom stroked his sooty tuft of hair.
The two boys gratifyingly fell asleep under the starry night sky, dreaming of
the exciting things to come.
***** Chapter 6 *****
                                                                       
Bill awoke with a start, balling soft fabric in his fists. His head whipped
around, taking in his surroundings. Trees, grass, birds, a loud ass train. He
groaned and looked down at Tom, his shirt riding up where Bill's hand was
gripping it, showing off his- 
Bill shook his head and let the boy go, patting his shirt into place. 
"What is that fucking noise?" Tom grumbled, covering his eyes with his forearm.
Bill didn't respond, just laid his head back on Tom's chest, trying to get a
few more minutes of sleep in. Tom moved his arm from his face to wrap it around
Bill's neck, rubbing his shoulder soothingly. Tom's stroking paired with the
steady thump of the blond's heartbeat began to slowly lull Bill back to sleep,
his tired eyes drooping before fluttering shut.
Honk! Honk!
"For fuck's sake..." Tom sighed as he sat up, ultimately giving up on sleep.
Bill whined in protest, grabbing the younger boy's arm and clutching it to his
chest. "Sleepy..." he mumbled, and Tom smiled softly.
"We have to keep moving," he said, pulling his arm away, "or they'll find us."
Bill sighed and sat up, a silent agreement. Tom began to rise, but stopped when
he noticed Bill reaching into his bag. "Do you have food in there?" he asked,
stomach growling as if on cue.
Bill looked up at him, a slight frown on his face as he pulled out a small
mirror and a tube of liquid eyeliner. "No, sorry."
"Really, Bill?" Tom sighed as Bill began to clean up and perfect his makeup.
Bill glared at him. "Of course, Tom."
Tom just groaned and leaned against the rough bark of a tree, watching Bill
apply the eyeliner with a steady and practiced hand. He suddenly snapped the
mirror shut, shoved it into his bag and rose, walking over to the blond,
smiling softly. He pecked his cheek and keenly pat it a few times. "Let's go."
He went past Tom, going on his merry way, and Tom raced after him. "Go where?"
"I don't know. There's only one lane in Zielitz anyway."
Tom grunted, shrugging a shoulder. True.
Rounding a large structure 20 meters away from the train station, Tom abruptly
yanked Bill's shirt, making him trip backwards. Opening his mouth to yell at
Tom, he was cut off by a hand covering it instead.
"Cops," the younger teen whispered. Shit.
They backed into the side of the building and the panicked, raven haired teen
started to babble nonsense in a hushed but distressed voice. "What are we gonna
do? If they see us they'll bring us back! We'll be in so much trouble, you
broke the fucking window! Tom-"
"Shut up!"
They stared at each other in tense silence and Bill picked up on a low, muted
sound. It grew louder each second and he gasped in realization.
"The train..." He peeked out from behind the concrete wall, witnessing the
arriving train, also taking note of the police cars he'd failed to notice a
minute prior. "It's-"
"Run." And that's what Tom did.
"Are you crazy?!" Bill's eyes grew as big as saucers but he shadowed Tom
anyway, trying to keep up with his speed.
Nearing the tiny railway station, the train was at a standstill, waiting, tall
and imposing on the rusty tracks.
As they passed the small house encompassing the station's reception, Bill
glimpsed to the right as Tom frantically and repeatedly clicked the glowing
green button on the door. Two policemen were standing a stone's throw away;
Bill's heart hammered in his chest and he impulsively crowded into Tom's back.
When the door finally unlocked, one of the men pointed at the two runaway
teens, slapping the other's chest to get his attention. Stumbling into the
train, Bill stared out through the glass. "They see us," he uttered as the
train chugged and the officers began to rush towards them. The two boys huddled
in front of the glass-framed door, relaxing slightly when the men faded from
their view.
"That was..."
"Close," Tom completed.
Thankfully there weren't too many people on board, and they settled into a
four-seat section, sitting opposite each other.
Bill propped his elbow up on the edge of the window, rubbing at his damp
forehead and exhaling loudly.
After a short lapse, Tom wondered out loud where they were even headed. Bill
poked his head out and the bright red letters on the narrow LED display hung
from the ceiling instantly caught his eye. "Stendal," Bill quoted.
After another short while, Tom spoke up again.
"When we get there they'll probably be waiting for us...since they saw us..."
Anxiety crept up on Tom and he fidgeted nervously, picking at his thumbnail. If
they weren't careful, they could get themselves into some deep shit.
"Hey," Bill said, resting a hand on the boy's bouncing leg. Tom glanced up at
him, but looked back down almost immediately. "We're gonna be ok."
"Yeah," Tom didn't sound very sure. "I just don't want you to regret doing
this..."
Bill ran a hand through his gel-free hair, before supporting his head with an
elbow on his knee. "Stop worrying about me," he murmured. "I'm doing this for
you, I'm not gonna regret it."
Though Tom didn't believe him, he smiled anyway.
After the fairly short and restless trip, they successfully sneaked off the
train. Hiding out for 20 minutes, they boarded a new one to Berlin.
 
"Excuse me?" 
Tom groaned loudly. "Go away."
There was a soft chuckle. "Grumpy, are we?"
With another drawn out groan Tom's eyes fluttered open, clutching Bill's
slumbering body closer to his possessively at the sight of the middle aged man
before him.
"Is this seat taken?" The man nodded towards the seat in front of him, and he
wondered when Bill moved to the seat next to him, but his groggy mind wasn't
able to come up with an answer. 
"No," he grumbled before resting his head back to Bill's shoulder, eyes falling
shut. It was silent for a moment, and Tom hoped that man had finally decided to
leave him the fuck alone. 
"'S that your brother?" The man spoke up again, and Tom opened his eyes to
glare at him. "Very pretty."
Tom's face scrunched up in disgust, hugging him closer. "No. Go away."
The man only chuckled, and the mere sound of it pissed Tom off beyond compare.
"You're the two runaways, huh?"
Tom perked up at that, sitting up straight. "What do you mean?"
"It's all over the news, saw it on TV this morning" the man claimed, and Tom
tensed. "I have a place in Berlin...if you two need a place to stay."
Tom stared incredulously. "Are you out of your fucking mind?" He snapped at the
shocked man. "Do you think I'm stupid, you fucking pedo?" 
The man grimaced. "Where the hell else are you gonna go? They're looking for
you, you know. You'd better take advantage of my generosity." 
"And you'd better fuck off. We don't need you, we're fine."
With a grunt and a "fucking useless," the man rose and took off, leaving Tom
alone with his thoughts.
He knew he was bluffing, he had no idea where the hell they were going to go;
but the last thing he needed was some creep lusting after his best friend. He'd
rather live in a ditch.
Tom just held Bill for the remaining 10 minutes of the trip, idly observing the
flashing scenery. After waking the slumbering teen when the train finally
arrived, they faltered out the sliding doors in a daze. Though being extremely
well-rested, they were famished. The two walked hand in hand down an unfamiliar
street, stomachs rumbling and grumbling.
"God," Bill groaned, clutching his stomach with his free hand. "I'm so hungry."
"Me too," Tom said, though it didn't show, as he was used to the pains of
hunger. He looked around, in search of a place to eat. His eyes landed on a
small gas station, and he tugged Bill's hand in its direction. "We can get
something from here."
They walked in, hands still intact, and Bill led Tom down the various isles,
scavenging for a meal.
"Just shove it in your fucking jacket and let's go!"
"There's too much shit in my jacket already!"
"Put it in your pants then!"
Bill's eyes narrowed as they exited an isle, eyeing the questionable huddle of
boys.
"Put it in your pants!"
"Fuck no!"
"Hey," Bill called out, earning weird looks from both the boys and Tom. "Need
some help?"
Tom furrowed his brows and squeezed Bill's hand in warning, but the taller boy
only smiled.
"Uhh, no," a tall brunet said, shifting from foot to foot, "thanks."
"Looks like you do." Bill asserted, pulling his hand from Tom's tight grasp and
making his way over to the intimidating group of boys. He heard Tom call for
him to come back, but he was steadfast.
"Why don't you mind your own business, kid?" A short, stocky boy with dirty
blond hair said. 
"I'm helping you," Bill said curtly, eyeing the last boy, a tall bleach blond
wearing a large, frumpy jacket. "You do realize it's like 30°C out there,
right? You look suspicious."
"Yeah, no shit, kid," the stubby blond added, advancing on the scrawny boy.
Tom stepped in front of Bill, crossing his arms silently.
"I could buy it for you," Bill suggested, stepping out from behind the dread-
headed teen. "I have like 200 bucks."
The boys laughed, and Tom glared at him.
"You're really naive, kid," the brunet chuckled. "But ok, if you insist."
Bill only grinned, holding out his hand expectantly. The bleach blond pulled a
few sandwiches and water bottles from under his jacket and handed them to the
shorter boy.
Bill wordlessly grabbed Tom's hand and walked towards the cash register,
leaving the 3 boys alone and gaping.
"What the hell was that?" Tom hissed once they were out of earshot.
Bill grinned once the un-purchased items were delivered to the cashier, turning
to face his frowning companion. "I'm being nice," he stated matter-of-factly.
"Karma and shit. Maybe we'll get something in return."
Tom snorted, rolling his eyes, but he couldn't help but be indulgent.
The cashier handed Bill the bag of purchased items with a small smile, which he
returned without hesitation before pulling Tom towards the exit, the group of
boys following them as they went.
"Thanks, man," the tall blond said when he was offered the bag. "That was
really cool of you."
"No problem!" Bill beamed with a smile so sweet it could rot teeth. The three
boys seemed taken aback by the undeserved kindness.
"Uh, ok, well-uh," The brunet stuttered, scratching the back of his neck.
"We're gonna go now..."
"OK!" Bill gleamed, still smiling brightly. 
The three older boys looked at each other weirdly before silently withdrawing
themselves, and Bill gave them one final wave before turning to face a scowling
Tom.
"What the hell?" he asked. "We didn't get anything in return! Fuck Karma!"
"Don't say that!" Bill scolded in Karma's defense, smacking the boy's chest.
"It takes time."
"Fuck time." Tom grumbled, crossing his arms, and Bill sighed.
"Stop being so grumpy. Now come on, let's go back inside, I'm still hungry."
Tom groaned but followed him anyway.
***** Chapter 7 *****
Chapter Notes
     UPDATE:
     So sorry for the hiatus! We've been having a few issues but will
     definitely be back next week with chapter 8. :)
     Thanks for reading. ♥
                                                             
 
Tom watched as his best friend's chest rose and fell with each slow breath,
rosy lips slightly parted. He tilted his head back onto the cool brick wall,
eyelids briefly sliding closed. Sleep was just a blink away, and the mere
thought of slipping into the replenishing state of unconsciousness made his
limbs grow heavy; yet, he couldn't. It was his responsibility to watch out for
the sleeping teen next to him, and succumbing to his body's need for rest was
the least best way to do so. Someone could easily steal Bill from right under
his grasp.
Perhaps deeming the dodgy alleyway as a place to rest was a bad idea.
Tom's eyes immediately snapped open at the sound of advancing footsteps,
glaring at the two men making their way towards him, both of them shielded by
an intimidating cloak of darkness. Tom pulled Bill closer, pushing the raven
haired boy's face into his chest with a hand tangled in his soft black curls,
and the older boy sighed contently, snuggling close, obviously unaware of the
two men stalking predatorily towards them. 
"Hey," the taller one said, stopping in front of the two young boys, a large
smirk on his face. Tom wanted nothing more than to beat the smug right out of
him.
Obviously put off by the boy's silence, the shorter one pushed his wide framed
glasses further up his nose, clearing his throat. "Can we get a good look at
your, um, friend?"
"Excuse me?" Tom gritted through clenched teeth.
"Well we're not going to pay for something if we don't know if it's good
enough." The beefy man with the receding hairline let out a gruff, hearty
laugh, and Tom's jaw tensed even more.
"He's not for sale."
The two men glanced at each other in confusion.
"A-are you?" the scrawny one asked, pushing his glasses up once again.
"No."
Bill shifted in his sleep, most likely reacting to Tom's accelerating
heartbeat, and the blond ran a trembling hand through Bill's short hair
soothingly.
"Are you the oldest?" the beefy guy asked, ignoring the teen's previous answer.
"No."
"Are you b-brothers?" the mousy man stuttered, sounding oddly excited as he
glanced over to his companion.
"No. Go away."
He looked slightly hurt, his thin lips pulling downwards as he took a step
back. The husky man huffed and pinched the bridge of his nose. 
"Listen kid, we're prepared to pay however much it takes to get you two for the
night, so stop being difficult."
"I-I want the dark haired one," the skinny man muttered. "The blond is too
feisty."
"€50,000," Tom said simply, ignoring the small man's comment. 
"Let's be realistic." The broad man sighed, and Tom shook his head. 
"No."
"€1,000."
"No."
"€5,000."
"No."
"T-ten thousand?" the timid man said quietly, and Tom scowled. 
"No. €50,000. I'm not going any lower."
The two men glanced at each other.
"Fine," the beefy man smirked, turning back to him, "€50,000. Sold."
"Uh," Tom felt his heart pounding against his chest, and he let out a shaky
breath, "e-each," he tried, but the beefy man only clicked his tongue.
"Nuh-uh. No going back now, kid."
Tom sighed and lowered his gaze. At this moment, he wished he was more like
Bill; he wished he could just play innocent, or at least have the ability to
sweet talk himself out of this. But that just wasn't in Tom's nature, he always
had to talk back, to have the last word, to say the meanest thing he could
think of. 
"We don't have all day!" the bulky man snapped, and Tom jumped a bit, clutching
a now frowning Bill closer to his chest.
"Try not to scare them too much..." the mousy man mumbled, pushing his glasses
up once again. That one simple motion was really starting to piss Tom off.
"Fuck that," the other man laughed, "this one thinks he's tough shit, he can
handle a little yelling."
Tom glared at him.
"Just don't scare mine," Mousy said. "I want him to feel comfortable with
me..."
"Not gonna happen, get over it," Beefy mumbled, eyeing Tom impatiently. "We
don't have all day! Wake him up and let's go!"
Tom was just about to snap back, but a small groan stopped him dead in his
tracks.
"What's going on?" Bill asked quietly, a deep frown on his features as he sat
up, eyeing the two strange men warily. 
"Nothing," Tom said, his face immediately softening at the sight of the
confused boy. "I'm handling it."
"I don't know..." Bill said, unsure, pulling his bottom lip between his teeth.
"It doesn't look handled, Tom."
"You're very pretty!" Mousy interjected, and when Bill only stared blankly at
him, the man took another step back, cast down.
"Look," Tom sighed in defeat, meeting Beefy's beady eyes, "I made a mistake,
ok? I was being an asshole, I'm....sorry, I guess."
Bill patted Tom's shoulder, a prideful expression on his face. 
A soft chuckling sound quickly turned into full blown laughter, and the three
turned to glance at Mousy, who was nearly doubling over from laughter. 
"Uh..."
"You really  think we're just going to let you go because of some apology? " He
laughed menacingly again, and Tom furrowed his eyebrows.
How did he just change so quickly?
"I agree," Beefy added, "though it's annoying as hell, your smart ass mouth got
me hard. And Karl has a thing for the innocent ones."
The man, Karl, knelt down in front of them, holding out a hand to caress Bill's
face. "I haven't seen one this pure in years," he muttered in awe. "I'm gonna
have so much fun with you..."
Tom's vision began to blur as a cloak of red hot fury was wrapped tightly
around him, clouding his senses. His hands began to tremble, his heart began to
pound, and he went numb, not even able to feel Bill's hand on his shoulder.
Everything sounded muffled, like he was underwater, he could hear Bill
speaking, but his words never met his ears. He looked at Bill, red blurring the
edges of his vision. He focused on Bill's lips, Bill's lips, Bill's
lips, Bill's pretty pink lips, trying desperately to calm himself down. 
Both boys knew the serious damage Tom could cause if he didn't calm down.
"Tom, Tom, Tom," he heard, and the red began to fade as he watched Bill's lips
wrap prettily around each word, "calm down."
He began to regain his senses; he could make out Bill's features perfectly, no
traces of red. He tasted the blood on his tongue, and he realized he'd been
biting it. He could feel Bill's hand in his, but there was another one. Another
one. Another hand rested on his shoulder. He squeezed his eyes shut before
opening them again, turning to stare dumbly at the hairy hand rested on his
shoulder. A hairy hand connected to a hairy arm, connected to...
He glared up at Mousy, the scrawny man stared back at him, his lips were moving
but Tom couldn't hear. The red was back. The red was back. But it wouldn't last
for long.
Soon, things went black.
 
"Tom, Tom, Tom, Tom..." 
The blond groaned loudly, his vision going from black to blurry. He saw red
again, but this time it wasn't fury. It was blood. Once his senses were
completely back, he was suddenly hit with reality.
"Tom," Bill shrieked, and he turned. The older boy was crowded against the
brick wall, tears running down his flushed cheeks. He peered down to see Beefy
kneeling before him, head hanging, hand clutching himself between his legs. "We
have to go!"
Tom looked in front of him, lowering his fist. Mousy laid beneath him, his face
almost unrecognizable. Blood was everywhere. His nose, his mouth, Tom's fist.
"Please!" Bill screamed again, and Tom glanced back over to him, watching the
once kneeling man begin to rise shakily. He quickly pushed himself off the
ground rushing over to the terrified boy, grabbing him by his arm, before
running off.
 
===============================================================================
 
Munching happily on his fries, Bill softly hummed a tune to himself. Tom was
yet again lost in thought, brows furrowed and a slight frown tugging on his
lips. Bill ducked his head, forcing himself into Tom's vision. The blond drew
back the tiniest bit, no doubt startled out of his contemplating. "What?"
"Stop with that face." He poked between his eyebrows and it only made Tom scowl
more, slapping his finger away. He pressed his knuckles into his cheek, glaring
out the window, and Bill huffed, gloomily finishing his Happy Meal. Tom had
been silent ever since what happened the night before, and Bill couldn't help
but to think it was his fault. He could've done more to calm Tom down, he
could've woken up earlier to talk them out of it, he could've, he could've, he
could've- but he didn't, and it felt like he had failed.
Tom sighed once he noticed Bill's frown. He knew this entire thing was hard on
them both; instead of moping, he needed to do his job. He needed to make things
better.
He picked up a fry and flicked it at the boy, hitting him on his nose. Bill
looked at him, and when he smiled, Bill grinned back. It felt good.
"Hey." A voice came suddenly from beside them, and Tom visibly tensed, eyes
locked with Bill's. The tall boy glanced over and his grin widened. Tom frowned
and looked over too, coming face to...groin with the three boys from the gas
station.
"Rough night?" the bleach blond asked, sliding into the booth next to Bill.
"Yeah," he sighed, scooting over to give the boy more room. "You?"
The tall brunet chuckled, sliding in next to Tom, and the dread-headed teen
reluctantly scooted over. "Let's just say it was better than yours."
"What do you mean?" Tom asked, frowning.
"We saw everything that happened last night," the bleach blond said, stealing a
fry from Bill's tray.
"We found this," the stocky blond tossed a newspaper onto the table, and Tom
quickly grabbed. "Wanted to check on you, newbies."
Tom quickly unrolled the paper and on the very first page, the headline read:
 Two missing Loitsche teens suspected as runaways. More on the overnight
disappearance on page 12. Tom flipped the thin pages in haste, almost ripping
one, and furrowed his eyebrows.
"What exactly did you see?" Bill asked, frowning. 
Bill Trümper, 15, and Tom Kaulitz, 14, caused quite a commotion late Sunday
night as the elder teen's window was broken, and he was seemingly swept away
into the night by the younger of the two.
"Not much," the brunet said, "just this crazy fucker beating the shit out of
some old dude."
According to locals, Bill was the ideal child: good grades, always polite and
helpful. Tom was the complete opposite. The two together was an odd sight, Bill
with his bubbly personality, flashy clothes; and Tom with his nonchalant
demeanor and rather laid back appearance. The two were inseparable, though,
according to close friends. "Bill was always hanging off of Tom's arm," Amy,
16, said. "They were very close." Closer than anyone expected, it seems.
"He was totally vicious," the bleach blond chimed in.
At the scene of the disappearance, a letter was found. An alleged suicide note
from Tom. In this note, he goes into detail about his feelings towards his
friend, writing "I do love Bill. I'd touch the sky for him, I'd go to the ends
of the world for him. I'd die for him if I had to." He then says that the love
they share is "something [he's] never seen before."
"Which is why we're here now," the brunet said, glancing at the boy beside him.
"We have an offer."
Could this be the love story of the century?
"We want you two in our gang."
We think so.
***** Chapter 8 *****
Chapter Notes
     Hi everyone! Thanks so much for reading, and pleeeeaaaase don't
     forget to comment and leave kudos! It means a lot. ♥
See the end of the chapter for more notes
 
                                                                 
"So this is it."
Tom stared up at the rundown building, frowning.
"Uh..."
"It's not much," the bleach blond, Andreas, said, turning to look at the two
baffled boys behind him. He gave them a slight smile before turning back to the
abandoned building, "but it's all we've got."
Bill hummed in response. "I like it," he said, smiling once everyone's eyes
were on him. "Looks cool."
"I like your optimism, kid," Georg, the brunet, chuckled, shoving the shorter
boy playfully, sending him stumbling back into Tom's chest. "Let's enter, hm?"
They were lead through the creaky revolving doors and past a second set of
glass doors a few meters ahead, several cracks scoring the smooth surface. The
two youngest teens peered around, curiously observing the relatively large
room. On one end were a pair of elevators and in the back, a long chestnut desk
with a backroom further behind it.
"Is this a hotel?" Bill asked inquisitively.
"Yeah, I mean, it used to be. It was a brewery too, the cellar still has all
the machinery and stuff, but now we use it for-" Georg was cut off by a swift
slap on the arm from Andreas and he rolled his eyes.
"Can we go see?"
"No," the blond said sternly, "we have to go see Bushido."
Bushido?
"Who's that?" Tom spoke up this time, eyebrows furrowed. 
"The boss," Georg breezily replied with a wink and backed into a door on the
left of the front desk, pushing it open. The five of them crowded into the dim
room and Andreas flicked on a flashlight, illuminating the way. They leisurely
marched up to the second floor, their shoes clanking on the metallic stairs.
Going through the open doorway, they were met by a cute blonde girl who raced
past them down the stairwell with a quick "hey guys" and a wave, which the
three older teens easily returned.
Continuing down the windowless hallway, they stopped at the last door and
Gustav, the stocky blond, gave three loud knocks on the nicked cream-colored
wood.
"Come in," a deep voice seeped out from the hotel room.
The two younger boys glanced warily at each other.
"Don't worry," Georg reassured, smirking as he twisted the doorknob, "he's
gonna like you." With one last wink to the taller of the pair, he opened the
door.
The scruffy, olive skinned man lay upon a wide bed, arm wrapped around an
attractive strawberry blonde's neck, wearing an even wider smirk. "Welcome,
boys," he said, nodding to the three, before looking over at the other two. His
smirk broadened at the sight of the skinny, dark haired girl. She was tall,
nearly 6 feet, give or take a few inches, and his eyes trailed up her never-
ending legs clad in a pair of tattered jeans, a black belt adorning her slim
hips. His eyes traveled to her flat chest -- he frowned -- hugged tightly by a
plain black shirt that contrasted beautifully with her pale skin. Short, wavy
hair framed her pretty face, and her wide, childlike eyes were rimmed with
coal. 
He licked his lips, grinning when she shifted uncomfortably.
"And who's this?"
"This is Bill," Andreas motioned to the tall girl, "and this is Tom."
Bushido glanced disinterestedly at the dread-headed blond before looking back
to the raven haired girl. "Bill?" he asked. "That short for Billie, or
something?"
"Uh, no," Bill shifted awkwardly. "It's not short for anything."
"No?" the man asked, scowling slightly. He stared at her for a second, before
chuckling. "Oh, so you're a boy?"
"Um, yeah." Bill glanced back at Tom, extending his hand when he noticed the
boy's frown. Tom grabbed it without hesitation, and their fingers laced
together. 
Bushido raised an eyebrow, eyeing their entwined hands. "'S this your boyfriend
then?"
The two boys glanced at each other, before looking away, blushing.
"Uh..."
"Maybe this will answer your question." Gustav said, before tossing the rolled
newspaper onto the bed, and the man grabbed it with a hum.
"Have a seat," he said offhandedly, unrolling the flimsy paper. "Heidi, get
them something to drink."
The woman nodded, slipping out from under the sheets. Her long, pin straight
hair reached to her waist, barely covering her breasts, and the four boys jaws
went slack. Bill rolled his eyes and let his hand fall from the gawking boy's,
plopping down onto the love-seat behind them. 
"Only 15, hm?" Bushido mumbled to himself, scanning the article. "You broke his
window. That's pretty ghetto."
"Ghetto?" Tom asked, the English word feeling extremely foreign on his tongue.
"It means badass, basically."
"Oh."
Heidi strolled back into the room, handing each boy a bottle of water, before
slipping back into the bed.
"Ok," Bushido finally said, dropping the paper. "So they're runaways. And?"
"Well, we think they'd make a good addition to the gang," Georg said.
"Why?"
"This kid," Andreas nodded to Tom, "is fucking vicious. He beat the shit out of
this guy last night."
"He's probably dead," Gustav said with a nod. 
"Blood was everywhere," Georg supplemented. 
"Oh? And the pretty one?"
The three boys considered the skinny boy as he absently chipped his nail polish
off.
"Well," Georg said, shifting, "we don't really know..."
Bushido grunted, unimpressed. 
"He'd be great with the scavengers," Andreas said, thoughtfully. "That pretty
face of his could probably get us some good stuff."
"I'm not just a pretty face..." Bill huffed, crossing his arms.
"You're right," Bushido said, "you've got a pretty little body, too."
Bill frowned.
"No, no, he can do stuff," Tom defended. "He's a pretty good actor."
"Is that so?" Bushido asked, and Bill nodded, smiling. "Can you cry on demand?"
"Every good actor can."
"Do it."
Bill sighed, but nodded anyway. He drew his eyebrows together, trying to
picture the saddest thing he could think of. Dead puppies. Starving children.
He groaned internally. No, no, those wouldn't work...
He peered up at Tom, his mind going back to the night that led them here. He
imagined what would've happened if he hadn't woken up. Tom would've died. Just
that thought alone caused his eyes to water, but that wasn't enough. He
pictured Tom laying unresponsive and breathless on the ground by the river, a
gun gripped in his right hand. He envisioned Tom's funeral, him clutching onto
his best friend's grey casket, screaming as his dad tried to pull him away.
He let out a sob and a sniffle, and everyone stared at him in awe. 
"Wow," Bushido said. "Didn't think you could do it."  
"Told you he was good," Tom asserted proudly, smiling.
 
===============================================================================
"...and this is where we eat."
They paused in front of the ornate, albeit worn-down double doors on the right
end of the lobby, the word Brauerei written elegantly in winding letters above
them. Andreas pushed open one of the doors and it swung back after Tom as he
entered last, teetering back into its original position.
Sturdy and decrepit looking mahogany tables and chairs were dotted closely
together, surrounded by matted red booths and encompassing a fairly marred
rectangular bar complete with matching stools. In one corner there was even a
small, round stage, although pathetically bare.
"Is there any beer left?"
Bill looked at the blond with a bored expression, pursing his lips and shaking
his head beratingly, and Tom just grinned back stupidly at him.
"No," Georg admitted sadly and quickly added when Tom opened his mouth, "but
there is some vodka and tequila left."
"Ca-"
"But they're for special occasions," he interrupted, a knowing smirk playing on
his lips.
Tom sighed in defeat.
Bill on the other hand was keenly studying the place, running his fingertips
over the smooth, dusky wood and poking the low-hanging ceiling lanterns coated
in dust and cobwebs from years of inactivity. Engrossed and somewhat charmed by
the deteriorated antique brewery, Bill paid no attention to the others' idle
chat and didn't even notice them retreat back to the exit.
"C'mon," Andreas called, "next stop's your room," and Bill turned, reluctantly
joined them.
 "So, how many people live here anyway?" Tom asked as they traveled up the
stairs again.
"It's more complex than that," Gustav murmured. "There aren't residents, it's
more like-"
"Members," Georg butt in as they reached the top of the steps. He pushed open a
door, leading them into a long hallway. "We have about 20 members. Not all of
them live here though."
"Why not?" Bill asked, furrowing his eyebrows.
"Everyone has a job," said Andreas, glancing back at the two curious boys.
"Like...the prostitutes-"
"Prostitutes?"
"-they're always on the move, so they don't exactly live here."
"They come here to eat, bathe, and then they're back to fucking!" Georg said
with a lopsided smirk, and Bill gaped at him incredulously.
"So...can we see the prostitutes?" Tom asked, earning a swift smack to the head
and icy glare. He only grinned.
"No," Gustav said, stopping in front of a door.
Reaching for the doorknob, it suddenly twisted on its own and the door swung
open. They were faced by the same blonde who'd rushed past them earlier.
"Oh hey, I just finished your bed," she said, backing up to let the cluster of
teens through.
The tall windows were wide open, letting in a fresh breeze, and at the head of
the bed were two fluffed up pillows and a large light blue comforter draped
over the whole thing. There was one splintered nightstand on the left of the
bed, adorned by a small golden lamp. Bill touched the wall as he surveyed the
room, picking at the peeling wallpaper.
"Thanks," he beamed at the girl.
"No problem," she smiled back. "I'm Natalie. Bill, right? And Tom?"
"Yup," Bill confirmed, taking a seat on the bed to test out its comfiness.
"Welcome to Sonny Black."
The two newcomers glanced at each other in confusion.
"It's our gang name," she giggled. "Anis made it up."
"Um..."
"Bushido," Andreas informed before Bill got the chance to ask.
Tom grimaced slightly at the mention of the man's name. The way he was staring
at Bill...it made him think of his dad. It made him sick.
"Wait," Bill said slowly, rising to observe the small room with wide eyes and
flaming cheeks. "Only one bed?"
Natalie smirked slightly, blue eyes flitting between the two young boys before
her. "Yup."
"That's...cool...I guess."
She just hummed in response, smiling knowingly as she plopped down onto the
bed, gazing up at them.
"So let me guess. They put you," she nodded towards Tom, "with the scavengers?"
"Yeah. How'd you know?" Georg asked, sitting down next to her. "Did we tell you
about him and-"
"Yes, you did," she cut him off, rolling her eyes. "You told everyone."
"It was badass!" he shouted out in his defense.
"I don't know about you though," she said, ignoring the long haired boy in
favor of eyeing Bill curiously. "Prostitutes maybe?"
Bill's jaw dropped.
"Oh my God," Tom choked out, nearly doubling over from the force of his
laughter. "Oh man, that's so funny!"
"It's not funny!" Bill cried out, smacking the laughing boy in the stomach. It
only made him laugh harder.
"So...that's a yes?" the blonde girl asked quizzically.
"No! That's a no!"
"We tried," Andreas sighed. "He'd make us so much money that way-"
Tom laughed harder. 
"No he wouldn't!" He wailed, eyes watering. "Oh my God, no!"
"Hey," Bill shouted. "How do you know?!"
Tom was nearly screaming with laughter, and the other four couldn't help but
laugh along with him.
"You can't even," he took a deep breath, trying to calm his laughter, "you've
never even- oh man!"
"You're a virgin?" Natalie accused, eyes wide in disbelief.
"I'm only 15!" 
"I-" she started laughing, "I had no idea!"
Though Natalie and Tom's laughter was loud, he could still hear Georg mutter,
"You owe me 5 bucks," to Gustav, and he frowned, crossing his arms.
He already hated this place.
===============================================================================
"Tom?"
The blond teen shifted, turning to face Bill, and even in the dark, the raven
haired boy's eyes shined.
"Yeah?"
"Do you think we're safe here?"
Tom hummed. "Safer than if we weren't here."
Bill nodded, eyes falling closed. "Ok."
After a short pause, Tom spoke up. "Bill?"
"Hm?"
Tom shuffled closer, their bare chests only inches apart. He slung an arm
around Bill's waist and pulled the flustered boy closer, nuzzling into his
neck.
"Are we boyfriends?"
Bill giggled quietly, relaxing into the embrace. "I don't know."
"Ok."
He felt Tom smile into his neck.
"Hey, Tom?
"Yeah?"
"If we were boyfriends...what would we do?"
Tom pulled away slightly to look at him, though he couldn't see much.
"I mean," Bill added quickly, "because you've had girlfriends before and
stuff..." 
Tom struggled to hold in his laughter. Embarrassed Bill was funny.
"Well," he began, "we would hold hands and kiss and stuff."
"Really?" A breathless chuckle escaped the brunet as Tom squeezed him. "We
already do that."
Tom hummed, pressing his lips to the sensitive skin behind Bill's ear. "We
would do more stuff, too..." he mumbled, and the blushing boy shivered
slightly. 
Bill swallowed hard when the younger boy drew back again, just enough to look
into his eyes, their faces unbearably close.
Tom stared down at his lips, tugging at his lip ring, and Bill watched,
entranced, his own lips parting. A few torturous moments passed before their
lips met tenderly, and Bill's arms tightened around Tom's neck. He felt
butterflies fluttering around in his stomach and his heart hammered against his
chest as he eagerly followed the more experienced teen's lead, allowing his
fervent, skilled tongue into his mouth without a second thought.
It took Bill a minute to get the hang of it, and Tom would have laughed at how
clumsy it was if it wasn't so damn endearing. Usually with girls, if they were
sloppy it immediately turned him off; but with Bill, it made that fire in his
stomach grow.
Once Bill had a pretty good understanding of what to do, he didn't waste time
pressuring them into building up speed as hands eagerly roamed over feverish
flesh. Bill clutched to the other's neck, and Tom's hand found the small of his
back as they both groaned, writhing. He pressed them close and a sharp intake
of breath was heard from both of them as their groins connected. Heat flooded
Bill and he deliberately moved against Tom, reveling in the pleasurable
friction.
Tom released his lips and kissed his neck, nipping wetly at the soft skin, and
Bill couldn't help letting out a tiny moan when a particularly sensitive spot
was grazed by Tom's hot tongue. He grasped Tom's hair, egging him on, and Tom
happily continued his exploration of Bill's delicate, sultry skin; licking,
biting, kissing -- Bill was in heaven. He writhed and whined and gasped and
moaned beneath his pleasurer, head tilting back, spine arching deliciously as
Tom's skillful lips went to the base of his throat.  
"Tom..." he murmured, and the blond glanced up at him, grinning into his flush
skin at the sight of him: head inclined, eyes shut, lips parted -- Tom had
always thought virgins were fun. Tom inched his way back up Bill's neck until
he was playfully nibbling Bill's jaw. His hand came up to rest on the other
side of the boy's face, stroking the baby-soft skin affectionately as he sat
up, slotting their lips together again.
Bill was more eager then, he wanted -- no, needed -- more, and he didn't even
know why or what he was craving. Since his brain was clueless, he let his body
take the lead, and he arched up into the slightly smaller teen's chest, shoving
his tongue into his mouth, licking with haste. His legs fell open on their own
accord, almost instinctively, and Tom quickly moved between the skinny
extremities, leaning down with his forearms rested against the pillow on each
side of Bill's head. The kiss grew hungrier without Tom's consent, Bill's mouth
was hot and eager against his, and not only was he unbelievably turned on, but
he was also extremely overwhelmed.
"Woah," he breathed, pulling away, and Bill's mouth latched onto his neck. He
let out a slightly shaky breath as he tried to regain his
composure, lovingly stroking Bill's hair. Bill keened, unintentionally grinding
up into Tom, and the younger boy groaned, nearly toppling over. "Woah," he
wheezed, smiling amusedly as he tugged on Bill's hair, gaining the boy's
attention. "Bill..." he chuckled breathlessly, "you're moving so fast, baby."
Bill gazed up at him with glassy, yet hungry eyes, and he chuckled again,
leaning down so their faces were inches apart. Bill tilted his head up,
silently begging for a kiss, but Tom ignored it, smirking. "You don't need to
move so fast, I'm not going anywhere," he said, and with one last nod from
Bill, they were back at it.
Bill obviously didn't care much for Tom's need to take it slow, as he
immediately went back to his fast pace, arching into Tom once again. It was a
battle of paces -- Tom trying desperately to slacken it, and Bill fighting to
hasten it. After a few minutes, Bill grew tired of the battle and decided to
take things a bit further. His hand skated down to his hip and he hesitantly
inched around the front of Tom's boxers. Just when he felt the delicious
hardness under his fingertips, Tom flinched away.
He cleared his throat, "um," and panted, squeezing his eyes shut.
"Sorry," Bill breathed, chest rising and falling harshly. "I, um..."
Tom shook his head, falling onto the bed by Bill's side. "It's ok."
They both lay upon the bed, panting and mortifyingly embarrassed.
Bill groaned and rolled onto his stomach, cramming his face into the pillow.
Just the thought of what just happened made him wince with humiliation, and he
groaned louder, the sound muffled by the pillow. He felt a hand weave
comfortingly through his hair, but that only made his shame increase.
He needed to be comforted?! How fucking embarrassing...
"It's ok," Tom repeated, and he turned his head to peek a look at him. "We
just...I just...I don't want you to feel like you have too move fast-"
"I don't."
"-because you think that's what I want. I want you to want it-"
"I do."
Tom sighed, removing his hand from Bill's hair to run it through his own in
frustration. "You don't, Bill."
"I do-"
"You don't!" Tom urged, voice raising. "You don't even know what you're asking
for!"
"I'm asking for you!"
"You have no idea what that means," Tom sighed. "Once you lose your virginity,
you don't get it back. That's it. You should just keep it-"
"I don't want it."
"Listen to me!" Tom groaned, massaging his temples. This was entirely new to
him -- caring about someone's purity, and it was extremely frustrating. "Just
keep it for now until you're ready. Until I think you're ready."
There was a brief silence before Bill spoke up. "How long is that going to
take?" His words were muffled, but Tom heard them anyway, and he chuckled.
"Not long."
Chapter End Notes
     Hiii we hope you enjoyed the chapter! Please, feel free to comment
     your opinions and criticism! And don't forget to leave kudos if you
     liked it!
***** Chapter 9 *****
Chapter Notes
     Hiii guys, we are so so sorry for the long wait but we really hope
     you enjoy this chapter!
See the end of the chapter for more notes
                      
The next few days were filled with tedious tasks no one seemed to want to do -
- including them. They cleaned the entire dining area, swept and mopped the
lobby and all of the hallways, they even went on garbage duty. Bill hated that
the most; his nails were in such a pitiful state -- at least three of them had
broken, and the polish was so chipped it was hardly even there anymore. Despite
that, Bill tried to stay positive, so sure that all their hard work would pay
off eventually, but Tom was not convinced. He grumpily agreed to the endless
string of banal work, only thanks to Bill's persistent banter. However, it
didn't stop him from making snide and insolent remarks when no one was around.
It was day three and they had just finished stocking the shelves in the
backroom with the (most likely stolen) supplies when Georg arrived, wearing a
mischievous smirk, to inform them that it was dinnertime.
"Finally," Tom huffed. He winced as he straightened, rubbing his back.
"Old man," Bill smirked and just barely avoided a smack to the head. "C'mon,
I'll give you a massage tonight if you behave."
Tom snorted as he followed the older teen out to the lobby. 
As they neared the dining room, the soft music they heard in the backroom began
to grow louder, and they glanced at each other in confusion. Together, they
pushed both doors open and stared in awe at the sight. Candles were scattered
on all the tables and the bar, each of them in a colored candle holder, bathing
the room in a rainbow of dim, flickering lights. A bulky stereo blared out rap
from the center of the room and everyone's animated chatter and laughter
permeated the convivial atmosphere.
"Wow," Bill said, eyes flitting from familiar faces, to not so familiar faces,
before glancing back at the dread headed teen next to him. "What's the
occasion?"
Tom only shrugged in response, scanning the room. His gaze landed on Georg
sitting in a booth with Natalie and Gustav on either side of him, and the
blonde girl waved them over, a large grin on her face. Bill followed his eyes
and when he noticed the group, he immediately broke out into a grin, bouncing
excitedly on the balls of his feet. 
"Let's go!" he said, grabbing the smaller boy by his arm, nearly dragging him
over to the four older teens. 
"It's about time," the girl said loudly, slurring slightly as she took another
swig from her red Solo cup. "Where have you been?!"
"We were just-"
"Shhh," she took another long gulp before slamming the empty plastic down onto
the wooden table. "Doesn't matter! You're here now!"
Bill opened his mouth to respond, but the only thing that left him was a weird
startled noise as a hand landed harshly on his shoulder. He spun around to come
face to chest with a smirking Bushido, and he sighed in relief.
"Enjoying your party, boys?" he asked, squeezing Bill's shoulder.
"This is for us?" Tom asked, using a finger to flick the older man's hand off
his friend's shoulder, and Bushido laughed.
"Yup," he said, looking around, an amused smile on his face. "This is your
little initiation party."
"Initiation?" Bill wondered, eyebrows furrowing as he glanced to Tom, the blond
boy looking equally confused.
"You're officially in the gang you idiot!" Natalie shouted and Georg laughed,
wrapping an arm around her shoulder.
"She's had a bit to drink-"
"Wait, what?" Tom cut him off. "Alcohol? We're drinking the booze?"
"Um, duh," Natalie slurred, throwing her arms up. "What's a party without
liquor! Plus there are like fifty bottles of tequila."
Tom grinned, giving Bill a quick wink before stalking toward the bar and the
black haired boy rolled his eyes, taking a seat next to the somewhat tipsy
girl.
"Have you ever even had a drink before?" she asked, giggling as she pinched his
cheek harshly.
"Yes," he hissed in response, slapping her hand away from his blushing cheek.
"Once or twice."
"Once," Tom said, walking back over with five shot glasses and a bottle.
"Unless he goes out and gets drunk without me." He lined the glasses up on the
table and filled each one to the brim with the amber liquid.
"Maybe I do." Bill grumbled, but he was ignored.
"Cheers." He smiled mischievously at Bill and clinked their glasses together.
The five teens downed their drinks and Tom chuckled when Bill had a coughing
fit, one hand clutching at his throat and the other gripping the edge of the
table. He slid in next to him and put an arm around his shoulders, swaying him
playfully. "You'll get used to it."
Bill glared at him, but it lost all its menace as he blinked away his tears,
sheepishly averting his eyes, and it only made Tom's smile widen. This was
going to be a fun night.
===============================================================================
Tom was practically dying of laughter. He wiped at the corners of his eyes as
he doubled over once more. Bill had climbed up onto a table, and was now
dancing clumsily and obnoxiously singing along to the current song booming
through the brewery. He undulated and staggered on the unstable surface and too
many times Tom thought he was about to slip and fall or spill his drink all
over the place and himself.
"Whoo, go Bill!" Natalie cheered, raising her cup as she, too, danced to the
music. Bill cheered back something incoherent, something along the lines of
"join me!" and Natalie did just that, handing her cup to Tom before awkwardly
getting onto the table.
Tom chuckled as he watched the two uncoordinated drunks dance together,
shouting and screaming random excited sounding phrases and noises. 
"Yeah!" Georg shouted from his spot beside Tom, watching as Natalie began
grinding on Bill. "If only I had some ones..."
"Good luck dating him," Gustav said, patting Tom on the back while shaking his
head. "He's a handful."
"We're not dating-!"
"Bill, watch out!"
There was a startled shout and the sound of shattering glass before the tall
boy was falling off the table and into Tom's chest. The blond boy quickly
wrapped his arms around Bill's middle, keeping the inebriated boy from toppling
to the ground.
"Woah," Bill muttered, before looking over the shattered bottle of Vodka on the
ground. "Oops. Did I do that?"
Tom chuckled, letting him go. "Yeah," he brushed Bill's hair out of his face.
"Are you ok?"
"Fine," he giggled, wrapping an arm around Tom's neck, watching Natalie dance
alone. "I like dancing."
"Dance with me," Tom said, his pierced lips tugging up into an amused smirk. He
placed his hands on the boy's slender hips, and Bill giggled nervously, nodding
as he wrapped his other arm around Tom's neck. They leisurely swayed together
for a few minutes, Tom's hands guiding Bill's hips back and forth. 
"Hey," came a deep voice from behind, paired with a light tap to the shoulder,
but Tom waved it off.
"Can't you see I'm busy?"
The finger dug into his shoulder harshly and he jumped, turning to glare at the
tall, beefy man's chest. His head tilted up to meet impatient eyes, and his jaw
dropped.
"Oh..."
The sight of the large man glaring down at them was enough to sober Bill up
almost instantly.
"Is there a problem?" came another familiar voice, and the two boys looked over
to see Bushido approaching them, dogged by four more guys, each larger than the
last.
"No, sir." 
"Anis!" Natalie shouted from the table before jumping down, staggering her way
over to the man.
Bill giggled lowly. "Anus..." 
Maybe he wasn't completely sober.
The man gave him a strange look before averting his gaze to the blonde girl,
grabbing her waist with a smirk, steadying her. "Are you sure you've had
enough?"
"Shush," she dismissed, waving and taking another gulp. "It's time already?"
Bushido only nodded, and her face fell immediately. 
"Wait, time for what?" Bill asked, but the only answer he got was a "good luck,
boys" from Natalie before Bushido motioned for them to follow him.
They nervously trailed behind the six men through the dark lobby and up the
stairwell, sharing worried glances. When they passed the second floor, the
boys' eyebrows furrowed -- they'd never been to the top floor before. When they
finally reached the very top of the stairs, the sound of jingling keys
resounded in the tense silence before the door was pushed open and they were
lead through it. They traveled down the long, dark hallway of the top floor,
each boy glancing into the door-less rooms on each side; they were all
completely empty.
They finally came to the last door on the right, and the five men created a
barrier to block the room from view, and Bushido stood in front of them, arms
crossed. 
"Every good thing has a bad side," he said, staring the boys down. "Being in
this gang is the best -- the only way to survive in these streets; but like I
said, there's a bad side,"
Bushido nodded to the men, and they nodded back before dispersing. The two boys
gazed into the room, completely bare, spare the wooden table in the center.
"You have three choices: go back to wherever you came from, attempt to live on
the streets alone, or endure the hazing and be protected by the gang."
Tom took the first step across the threshold, and Bill followed suit,
approaching the table hesitantly. 
Laying upon the table was a small plastic baggy filled with a suspicious white
substance, a wooden paddle, and a large black dildo. 
"What's this fo-"
"No questions," Bushido interrupted, holding up a hand to silence the raven
haired boy. "Make your choice."
Tom glanced from Bill's absolutely terrified expression to the table, and then
back again. "What do you want to do?"
"Whatever you want to do." Bill said, his expression firm as he reached out to
grab the blond's hand. Tom squeezed it reassuringly before looking back to
Bushido.
"We'll stay."
Chapter End Notes
     PLEASE don't forget to comment and leave kudos!
***** Chapter 10 *****
Chapter Notes
     Sorry again for the delay... ^^; Hope you enjoy!
                                                                 
 
The older male nodded, walking over to the table, the men trailing behind him.
"Very good," he said, hand skimming across the wood. "Let's play a game, hm?"
The two boys scowled as the man lifted the dildo, pointing it in the general
direction of the two, wiggling it with each word. "Would you rather," he
pointed to the baggy, "do a line a of cocaine?" He brandished the dildo,
smirking, "or fuck yourself with this big ol' thing?"
There was a brief silence before Bill spoke up. "Definitely the dildo," he
murmured, blushing and averting his eyes.
"Really?" Tom asked, bewildered. "That thing could never fit in you."
Bill shrugged. "Well, I would never do cocaine."
"It's settled then!" Bushido exclaimed, pointing the dildo at the tallest teen.
"Pants off!"
"What?"
"You made your decision, now take your pants off." He nodded toward Tom, "as
for you, you can join Laurenz while he ge-"
"No, no, no," Tom objected, shaking his head. "That thing is not-"
"You have no choice!" Bushido shouted, making both boys flinch. "Now get your
skinny ass over here!"
With one last worried glance towards the petrified boy, Tom rounded the table,
glaring at Bushido as he went.
The older male didn't notice, his gaze was locked with Bill, and a fierce smirk
played on his face as he stepped closer.
"Alright Billie," he said, smacking the dildo against the palm of his hand.
"Pants off."
"D-do I really have to?" Bill stuttered, cheeks heating up. "I-I'll do anything
else, just..." He eyed the large dildo warily, cringing internally. There was
no way...
Bushido clicked his tongue and shook his head. "Sorry Billie."
The boy's heart dropped, but he nodded anyway, looking down at his jeans. He
hesitated, embarrassed tears welling up in his eyes, but eventually reached
down and popped the button. He made a small distressed noise once the zipper
was all the way down, and he looked up to see everyone's eyes were on him. He
heaved out a shaky breath as he pulled the pants down his skinny legs before
kicking them off, standing awkwardly in his black briefs.
"Very nice," Bushido said, earning a threatening glare to the back of his head.
"Underwear, too."
"Can I at least turn around?" He kept his gaze locked on the cement ground,
stripped of carpet.
"Sure."
The skinny boy reluctantly turned to face the wall, thumbs hooking in the
elastic of his briefs, slowly pulling them down.
He held out his hand, eyes squeezed shut, and Bushido obligingly presented the
ridged, black rod. He bent over as he placed the head to his unprepared hole,
and with the other hand, he braced himself against the wall, his breathing
quickening in anticipation and embarrassment. Just do it, he told himself over
and over again, but his hand decidedly was not listening to his brain. He
huffed and leaned his forehead on the wall. "I... I don't know if..."
"Fine, I'll do it," Bushido said and he smirked wickedly.
"No fucking way!" Tom bristled, stepping forward.
Bushido lifted a brow, and there was a beat of silence before he crossed his
buff arms. "How 'bout you do it?"
Both boys froze, breath hitching, and Bushido stared smugly at Tom, a
challenging look in his eyes.
He deliberated and stole a glance at his half-naked friend, and Bill gazed back
fearfully.
A pregnant moment passed before Bill weakly shrugged a shoulder, pursing his
lips and holding out the imposing dildo to Tom. His hands shook as he
approached Bill, and he reluctantly re-positioned the rugged shaft between his
ass cheeks. He placed his other hand on his hip, a hopefully reassuring
gesture, and gently nudged the tip in. He barely moved an inch when Bill
hissed, and he automatically paused, staring worriedly at the back of the
brunet's head.
"It's not going to fit," he said, glaring at the man.
"Make it fit."
Tom retracted the dildo and all but slammed it down onto the rickety table,
pinning Bushido with a hard look.
"Like hell I will." Tom warned in a low and threatening tone.
"Who the fuck do you think you are, kid?" He scoffed and leered derisively.
"Tom," Bill said in a small, shaky voice. "Just do it."
"No," he nearly shouted. "There's no fucking way I'm doing that! He can go to
hell! It's not happening."
There was a short, tense pause before, suddenly, Bushido began to chuckle,
raising his hands in sarcastic defense. "Fine." 
The dread-head was momentarily dumbstruck. "Fine...?"
"Yes, fine. He doesn't have to do it," he paused, "just know this won't go
without consequence." Bill hesitated, waiting for Bushido to laugh and say it
was a joke -- but that never came. He slowly tugged his pants and underwear
back up, zipping and buttoning them as Bushido spoke. "Laurenz?" The man in
question nodded and stepped back. Bushido waved toward the table, inciting Tom
to come forth. He did, and he gazed unsurely before him.
"Go on." Bushido looked at him expectantly and Tom took a deep breath as he
picked up the small transparent bag.
He poured the chalky powder onto the smooth surface, chopping it and thinning
it out into a line with the credit card at disposal as best he could, mimicking
what he'd seen in movies. He then picked up the little piece of paper, rolling
it between shaky fingers. Licking his chapped lips, he caught Bill's distressed
expression and looked back down, deciding to just get it over with. He bent
over, placing his makeshift straw at the left extremity of the line. Taking one
last deep breath, he plugged one nostril and inhaled through the other, chasing
the line with the straw.
As soon as he finished he lifted his head up and propped his arms on the table,
exhaling through his mouth before sniffing a few times. It burned a little, and
there was a chemical taste in the back of his throat. Soon enough his face was
going numb and he looked up at a concerned Bill -- he had a hand to his mouth
and his brows were drawn up, eyes full of trepidation.
"It's okay, I'm fine," he reassured, absently and curiously poking his
desensitized cheek.
"Well that's good to hear," Bushido said sarcastically before nodding to the
men. "Get them over the table."
"What?! What?!" Bill gasped as his arms were grabbed and yanked behind his
back. He glanced at Tom to see the boy struggling to free himself from the same
position. 
"Get off!" the dread-head shouted as he was bent over the wooden table, a large
hand securing his arms behind his back. 
"Pants down," Bushido said absentmindedly, grabbing the paddle from the table.
He watched as the tall boy's pants were removed, humming in approval. 
"Cute little ass," he murmured, earning a snarl from the younger teen.
"Everyone gets one hit," he informed as he positioned himself next to Bill.
The pale boy gasped and jolted when the first one came. It wasn't so bad, he
thought, he could deal with it. There was a short pause as the next man grabbed
the paddle, and the second one came and he faltered. By the third one his butt
started burning, and by the fourth he completely changed his mind; this was
unbearable.
He sobbed quietly and screwed his eyes shut, feeling the tears pound behind his
eyes as the paddle yet again whooshed through the air and sharply smacked his
bare ass.
The last one was the worst one, and by then his skin felt like it was on fire.
"Next," the older man motioned to Tom, and Bill straightened, breath shuddering
out and a lone tear streaking down his face.
The younger boy braced himself for the first blow, eyes shut. He clenched his
teeth as he silently endured the relentless beating, body jumping with each
hit.
"Get the branding iron," the tan man said, waving two of the other men off, and
Bill whimpered.
"The what?"
Bushido smirked, and grabbed the boy by his hair, pulling him upwards. "You
thought that was it? Aw," he cooed, staring the boy in the eye for a moment
before letting go of his tousled locks.
Then the men re-entered the room, bringing in the red, hot metal, an icy gel
pack, and medical supplies. The two boys exchanged anguished looks and wrestled
helplessly in the strong hold as one of the men approached them. He briefly
wiped down Bill's shoulder with a piece of alcohol-soaked gauze and signaled
for the other man. The blazing rod was passed to him and Bill started to beg.
"No, no! Please, no! Stop!"
Then it seared into his skin.
"Ffffffuck- shit!" He banged his head on the table and bit his lip so hard he
almost drew blood; the pain was excruciating. How he'd thought the paddle was
bad was beyond him, because it was nothing compared to this undeserved and
cruel torment.
After what felt like an eternity, the scorching metal was withdrawn, and his
entire shoulder throbbed painfully.
The flick of a lighter reverberated through the tense silence and Bill lifted a
heavy gaze to a malicious one. Bushido's cheeks hollowed as he deeply dragged
on his cigarette, contemplating the brunet. He neared him and loomed over him
menacingly. Bringing his cigarette closer, Bill scowled and recoiled.
He chuckled lowly. "Don't be like that, baby. The design needs to be finished."
With that, he pressed the end of the cigarette into his raw flesh, and Bill
hissed, holding back a string of insults. That was done twice before another
one of his henchmen bandaged his mutilated arm. He clasped the ice pack over it
as Tom was given the same treatment, and Bill watched harrowingly.
He caught a glimpse of the glowing injury before it was wrapped up; huh, a yin
yang sign, he mused dully.
The soothing ice was removed, much to Bill's chagrin, and given to Tom instead.
A minute later, they were lugged up onto their feet and confronted by Bushido.
He took one last drag of his cigarette before stubbing it out on the wall.
"Welcome to Sonny Black."
***** Chapter 11 *****
Chapter Notes
     It's finally here! ^^;
     Enjoy~
                                                               
 
Bill lay on the creaky bed, writhing in agony as a plaintive moan slipped from
his pale lips.
They made him sleep in a different room than Tom; he guessed it was his
punishment for not completing the first trial, which, thank God, they let
slide. He probably would've had a hard time walking after a ride on that
monstrous thing. They didn't even have any painkillers to take the edge off, he
gloomily recalled, and his butt still hurt.
He couldn't deny he was a little bitter, but it was a small price to pay for a
bed to sleep in, nourishment, a roof over their heads and, well...a life. They
could never have made it alone on the stony, merciless streets of Berlin. It
wasn't so bad though, the brand could have been something stupid like a...a
bird, or something. Yin and yang, he ruminated, it had several different
meanings and interpretations. Which one did the gang associate with?
He rolled onto his back, carefully avoiding any contact with his still
incredibly sensitive shoulder, and grasped at the empty sheets next to him,
wishing he could be with his treasured dread-head. He'd been such a chatterbox
after the...line. He couldn't believe he did that. What if he got addicted? Did
he even think about that? Or if it was bad coke? He could have died, just like
that, to join a fucking gang. Life is too short to be fooling around like that
and taking it for granted, they should make the best of it... Speaking of, Bill
didn't understand why he was so adamant about taking things slow. Bill
just...wanted him so bad, and the thought was constantly on his mind, nagging
him incessantly. There was no harm in sex, if the necessary precautions were
taken of course, so why-
Bill snapped his head toward the door as it swung open, slamming against the
wall.
"Oh, sorry, Billie baby. Did I wake you?" Bushido strode in, a number of
shadowy figures dogging his footsteps.
"What are... What are you doing?" he stuttered as the tall men approached him.
One of them reached out and grabbed Bill by the ankle, dragging him to the edge
of the mattress, and flipped him onto his stomach, earning a startled shout
from the skinny boy. Another man joined him and they each grabbed a wrist,
firmly pinning them down, and Bill futilely wrenched his arms. He twisted his
head this way and that, frantically trying to see what was happening behind
him. Suddenly his pants were yanked down and he was exposed for the second time
that day, and his heart pounded furiously in his chest. Were they going to
forcibly fuck him with the dildo? Oh God.
He heard a muted click and something tiny and wet skated across his bare skin,
and he realized it was a marker. "What the fuck?!" he shouted in annoyance.
The teen groaned and buried his flushed face in the comforter as they snickered
and scribbled on him, one of them even giving him a tap on the ass, causing him
to begin struggling again. The next guy must have found it so amusing that he'd
felt the need to reproduce the irritatingly immature gesture, albeit
substantially rougher. The rest of them joined in, and Bill was getting
spanked left and right, hard, as they chuckled sadistically at his pained
cries, like a bunch of lousy bullies. Not only was his butt still sore, so was
his shoulder, and they were decidedly not handling his arms with tenderness and
care...and his ass neither for that matter.
A shaky, thankful breath fell from his lips as the last smack was delivered,
going limp in the men's grasp.
There was a brief pause and he was starting to think -- to pray -- that they
were done with him. His praying was ineffective, though, because only moments
later he felt something hard and thin penetrate him roughly. A strangled cry
left his throat and he yanked his arms away in vain. Sweat broke out on his
forehead and he swallowed hard, squeezing his eyes shut as the room filled with
barbarous laughter.
"Sleep well, angel."
As they left, the accursed pen popped out of his asshole, clattering to the
floor. Thoroughly humiliated, he curled up on his bed, fighting back tears.
===============================================================================
To say he was tired would be an understatement -- he was exhausted.
Tom tossed and turned all night, his mind on overdrive; he just couldn't turn
it off. He thought about everything possible that night, he was sure. From his
parents and how they were doing (if they missed him -- they probably didn't),
to school and his classmates (even the assholes), to Bill -- Tom wondered how
he was sleeping,if he was sleeping at all, he thought fondly, reminiscing about
the many times Bill had showed up at his window in the middle of the night,
unable to sleep.
As he lay on the lumpy mattress, staring at the door, he hoped Bill would
suddenly walk in and ask (timidly, as always) if he could stay. Tom would
invite him into the bed with a "sure" and a smile that would make Bill's cheeks
tinge pink. He'd press close, and hold him, of course -- he could never keep
his hands off the older boy. He might've even kissed him, maybe, if Bill wanted
him to. Kissed him until the sun rose, orange shadows playing on his pale face,
casting shapes on his rosy cheeks.
But that never happened. 
Yet, despite his lack of sleep, heavy limbs and tired eyes, he managed to drag
himself up to Bill's temporary room the second light began to seep into the
decrepit building.
He brought his fist against the door twice, softly, but he got no response.
With a furrow of his eyebrows he knocked again, harder this time. 
No response.
He rolled his eyes -- Bill is such a heavy sleeper -- before twisting the knob
and letting himself in. The sun glared through the window due to the lack of
drapery and he could clearly see the immobile lump under the sheets on the
small bed. He smiled, walking closer.
"Bill," he said softly. "Bill, get up."
sniff
Tom frowned. "Bill," he said louder, forcefully. "Bill."
"Go away," the shapeless form croaked before a familiar skinny arm emerged,
swatting weakly in his direction. 
Tom sighed, reaching for the covers. "Bill, come on-"
"No!" the older boy cried as the blanket was suddenly ripped away, revealing
his exposed, abused bottom.
Tom gawked, appalled at the sight before him. He gingerly placed his hand on
the desecrated skin, littered with disgusting, demeaning phrases and Bill
watched his expression change from alarm and shock to unadulterated rage.
"Who did this?!"
Bill's eyes went wide in dread, foreboding a massacre, and fumbled with his
words.
"WHO?!" The brunet jumped at the outburst, cringing.
"B-Bushido," he confessed and Tom immediately whipped around, storming out of
the room.
Bill scrambled out of bed and tripped into his pants, stumbling after the
enraged blond.
"Wait! Where are you going?!" he yelled, but Tom was unwavering, racing down
the concrete steps, deafened by the blood boiling and pounding in his ears.
"Tom!" Bill called out again as the younger teen burst through the doors to the
brewery. He zeroed in on the older man, but he was facing away from them,
artlessly exchanging with a couple of bulky men.
"Hey, asshole!" Tom bellowed as he stalked forward.
When Bushido started to turn around, Tom rushed forward and, just as their eyes
met, his fist collided powerfully with the man's cheek. Bushido's head snapped
sideways and his body lurched to the left from the force of the blow.
"Fuck, Tom!" Bill screeched, grasping at the back of his head.
The silence that ensued was deafening.
All eyes were on the pair, some apprehensive, others mildly curious,
and Bushido was rubbing his stubbly cheek, a bitter expression on his face.
"Holy shit."
"You better start running."
"Nice knowin' you, kid."
There was a short pause before a low chuckle resounded in the large room. Tom
furrowed his eyebrows, fists tightening at his sides.
"What are you laughing at?" he demanded. "You think this shit is funny?!"
Anis finally looked up, amusement shining in his keen eyes. Rubbing his
reddening jaw, he eyed the boy challengingly. "Yeah."
With a growl and a "I'm gonna fucking kill you," Tom charged forward again,
only to be suddenly restrained. Grunting and struggling against the brawny men,
he glared fiercely at the chuckling man.
"Damn, you've got a good arm, kid," he said, cupping his sore jaw.
Taking a step forward, he stood brazenly in front of the fuming blond and
gripped the hem of his shirt.
"But do that again, and I'll kill you," he warned with a chilling grin.
Bill sighed, immensely relieved they weren't going to have their asses handed
to them and get kicked out.
As breakfast was being served, the atmosphere mitigated and the tension slowly
lifted, leaving laughter and blithe chatter in its wake.
A hard pat on the shoulder startled the blond out of his thoughts.
"You sure got balls, man!" Andreas avidly jostled Tom with a wide grin, and he
couldn't help but feel a bit smug.
"Yeah, I-"
"You crazy motherfucker! I can't believe you did that!" The long-haired brunet
gave him a playful jab on the shoulder, which Tom returned with a chuckle. "I
came down as soon as I heard. I wish I could have seen the boss get dominated
by a kid," he said furtively, smirking.
"It was pretty hardcore," the bleach blond confirmed, feigning gravity. "I
wouldn't be surprised if he fissured his jawbone... And his ego probably took a
big hit too. I mean, this little shit just comes and smacks him around like
it's nothing," he shook his head grimly, crossing his arms. "He might need
therapy after this." His lips stretched into a grin, no longer able to retain
his humorless front, and they all burst out laughing, clapping and pushing at
each other facetiously.
"On a serious note though," he sobered substantially, "be careful. I don't know
what changed this time but you're very lucky he didn't beat the shit out of you
right off the bat...pun intended."
Bill cringed and Tom smiled sheepishly, running a hand through his unkempt
hair.
"I did what I had to do," he deadpanned, and the older teen gazed at him
thoughtfully.
One thing he couldn't reproach Tom for was not being there. He had always been
by his side, always, in good times and bad. He never left him, never let him
down, and Bill was so grateful of that. What he'd do without him, he didn't
know.
They continued eating and all throughout breakfast Tom had been showered with
praise and inquiry, barely letting up enough for him to finish his plate. Bill
was unpleasantly surprised when a group of under-dressed girls made their way
over, fawning over the dread-head and just...kissing his ass. He grimaced.
"Hey, we saw you pull out the big guns earlier," a tall brunette practically
purred, running her petite hand up his arm as she smiled seductively. "Mind
showing us again?"
"Wha- ...are you flirting with me?" Tom stuttered, staring at her with wide
eyes. She had to be at least be 20!
"No shit," Bill muttered, moving the food in his plate around with his fork.
"Oh, don't be jealous, cutie," a blonde pompously advised with a spiteful
smile. "You can watch."
Bill scoffed and rolled his eyes, but didn't respond. He continued to watch Tom
bask in the abundant attention, the frown never leaving his features.
Honestly, he looked better than all of them. He didn't get why Tom was so
infatuated with them; the only thing they had on him was their tits. And their
long hair. And their vaginas.
Whatever, they were a whole other gender, there was no comparison. But still,
he had to wonder. Was he not enough for Tom? He knew he'd previously had
multiple heterosexual encounters, and they'd never had a conversation about
sexuality, but he couldn't be completely straight since he was...with Bill. Was
he with Bill? Were they together? They hadn't said it officially but Bill liked
to think they were, despite the ambiguity.
Either way he couldn't help but feel the tiniest bit inadequate.
***** Chapter 12 *****
Chapter Notes
     Things have been pretty hectic unfortunately, thus the long wait...
     We're really sorry. :( Hopefully we can get the next chapter done
     quicker... Forgive us? ^^;
     EDIT: If you want this story to be continued or are a beta please
     take a look at this.
 
"So wait, that's all I have to do?"
Bushido smirked at the blond teen and leaned back in his chair. "That's all.
Not too hard, right?"
Tom crossed his arms, a smirk of his own spreading across his face. "This is
gonna be too easy."
"Alright," Bushido clapped his hands together. "If there are no further
questions, you're dismissed."
Tom was the first one out of the room, swaggering across the lobby with
confidence. Ever since the reckless stunt he pulled earlier that morning, all
the praise had really boosted his ego. As if that was needed.
A group of girls waited for him by the stairwell, giggling as he approached.
"Ladies," he acknowledged with a nod, holding the large door open for them.
"You're so sweet, Tom." A bubbly blonde giggled as she made her way up the
stairs.
"Yeah, it was really cool what you did this morning," a sultry redhead purred,
turning to glance at him with her smoldering green eyes. "Sticking up for your
wimpy friend like that."
All the girls voiced their approval, and he frowned as they reached the top.
"He's not wimpy."
"No?" a brunette asked as she pushed the door open, and all the girls filed
out. "Why didn't he stick up for himself then?"
Tom just shrugged in response. He honestly didn't have an answer.
"Whatever," the blonde said, grabbing onto his arm. "It doesn't matter. Can we
walk with you to your room?"
Before he could say no, the redhead was grabbing onto his other arm, smiling up
at him expectantly. With a sigh and a nod of his head, they made their way down
the hall in silence, apart from the girls' giddy giggling.
The door was wide open when they finally reached the room, and Bill was sitting
cross legged on the bed, scribbling in a notebook. A loud sigh caused him to
look up.
"I guess we won't be having any fun, huh?" The blonde pouted, letting go of the
confused boy's arm.
"Maybe next time," the redhead said with a smirk before the trio turned to make
their way back down the hallway.
Tom watched as they went, a perplexed frown on his face. By fun, did she
mean...?
"Tom," Bill's voice broke him out of his trance, and he turned to look at the
scowling boy. "Close the door."
"Uhh..." The older teen did as he was told, standing awkwardly in the middle of
the room. "Is everything-"
"We need to talk."
"We need to...talk," Tom said slowly, earning a nod from Bill. "About..?"
He apprehensively made his way towards the bed. "What did I do? Honestly, those
girls-"
"Are you gay?"
Tom's eyebrows shot up to his hairline.
"I-I mean... Um," Bill sighed and ran a hand through his hair. This was not
going the way it went in his head. "Do you like...guys...at all? I mean, you
never want to go any further than kissing, and you know the girls, and so I was
just thinking maybe you-"
"Bill," the blond deadpanned, trying desperately to hide the amusement in his
voice.
"Yeah?" Bill asked feebly, expecting the worst.
"You're so stupid."
"What?" The older teen frowned as Tom sat down beside him.
"You're stupid," Tom reiterated, smiling. "Of course I'm not gay!"
His frown deepened.
"But I still kissed you, right? That means something."
"Yeah," Bill mumbled. "You're right."
Tom rolled his eyes. "I know this is your first attempt at a relationship, but
you can't possibly be that slow!"
"Dick," Bill laughed, shoving Tom playfully, and the blond laughed too. "I'm
not slow, I was just asking."
"Yeah, yeah," Tom muttered, placing his index finger under Bill's chin, tipping
the older boy's head back before pressing a short, chaste kiss to his pouty
lips. Bill hummed appreciatively, puckering his lips for another and Tom
instantly complied; he didn't need to be asked twice. Bill's lips were soft and
eager beneath his, and he found himself addicted to them.
He leaned back, pulling Tom down with him, and the younger teen hovered over
him as their mouths slowly melded together. Tom brushed his thumb over Bill's
sharp cheekbone as he deepened the kiss, tongue darting out to meet Bill's own,
and the heat of arousal slowly stirred in the pit of his stomach.
Bill on the other hand had trouble staying still, already writhing under the
titillating ministrations, barely able to hold back. His hands roamed zealously
from broad shoulders down toned arms, then to his back, and he could feel the
muscle twitch and shudder deliciously under his fingertips.
"Tom," he murmured, turning his head away. "We should stop now or else I-"
"Or else what, Bill?" Tom mumbled into the older teen's neck in between kisses.
"You'll get hard?"
Bill groaned and tried to push Tom away in embarrassment, but the blond simply
pinned his thin wrists above his head with a single hand, the other moving to
lie teasingly on the warm flesh of Bill's side where his shirt had ridden up.
"You already are," Tom smirked, an eyebrow quirking upwards. "Aren't you?"
"Fuck, Tom," he whined, but before he could protest further, Tom caught his
lips with his own.
As his grip slackened, Bill captured his lower lip between his teeth, tugging
on it teasingly in retribution. He gasped when Tom kissed him hard in return,
sparking an electrifying heat that shot through his entire body. He clawed at
his back and his fingers impulsively roamed over the hem of his shirt, grazing
naked flesh. His skin was so soft and warm, it made him burn to find out what
other, more forbidden places felt like.
Traveling further down, he slipped his hands into the back pockets of his jeans
and desperately urged him forward. He groaned when Tom complied, and squirmed
under him as he ground their hips together in torturously slow circles.
Tom released his lips and latched onto his neck instead, and pleasure swelled
hotly inside Bill, breath catching in his throat. How was he so frustratingly
good at this?
Bill wound his legs around the younger teen, a silent plea for more, cursing
the barrier of clothing.
The torment was too much, he just couldn't handle it, it was driving him crazy
with desire. He needed more, more achingly pleasurable touches, moreTom.
He tentatively let a hand stray to the front of the younger's jeans, letting it
rest there for a moment, uncertain. It took all of his willpower to keep it
there, but when Tom made no attempt to stop him, Bill grew bolder and palmed
his clothed erection, reveling in the feeling of the hardness straining against
his hand.
Tom pulled away breathlessly, and Bill began to retract his hand. "Sorry," he
muttered in disappointment. "I-"
"It's fine," Tom rasped, biting back a smile as he gazed heatedly at the
younger boy's disheveled appearance, all ruffled hair and rosy cheeks. "Just
catching my breath."
Bill didn't even get the chance to reply before Tom's lips were back on his,
tongues melding together once more.
Suddenly, there was sweet pressure on his own groin as Tom rubbed his aching
length through his boxers, and he almost forgot how to breath.
"Oh, Tom..." He gasped and rocked his hips against the younger teen's hand as
an overwhelming heat engulfed him.
Tom watched Bill as he bit his lower lip, trying but failing to keep in the
small moans and whimpers that liberally slid from his throat, and his cock
twitched at the sight.
He couldn't deny wanting the brunet...but he promised himself he wouldn't go
any further than this. He wouldn't allow himself to take advantage of him like
that, it was wrong, he couldn't possibly. Bill was too good, too pure; he could
never corrupt him like that. He deserved better.
He stared down at Bill's flushed face, features drawn in undisguised pleasure,
and bit his own lip.
At that moment though, he just couldn't help himself. They both needed this,
and they needed it now.
He nipped at the skin just underneath his earlobe and Bill felt a tremor run
down his spine.
"Tom, please..." he breathlessly moaned out.
It sent a jolt of pleasure straight to his groin every time he said his name
like that, in that sultry, wanton tone. He could already imagine what he'd be
like when he fucked him -- pliant and open under him, shamelessly begging for
more of his cock while he rammed his sweet hole... Fuck, he couldn't wait.
He really couldn't wait, he thought desperately. He was already on the edge;
his dick was slick with precum in his pants and the friction felt unbelievably
good. And with Bill chanting his name like that...well, he wasn't sure he could
control himself.
"Oh, baby..." he groaned, shuddering as his cock throbbed almost painfully,
straining against the dampened material of his boxers.
He got up on his knees and thrust harder against the brunet, and Bill met each
thrust evenly, never letting up the constant stream of lascivious pleading that
drove Tom crazy with desire.
Bill gripped his hips, pulling him impossibly close, and ground up into him
with a drawn out groan, eyes squeezed shut. His lids slid open half-mast and he
panted as he gazed up at Tom with clear want in his eyes, hips still pulsing
against him. He tilted his head back and Tom didn't waste a second in accepting
the silent invitation. He sucked and lapped at the side of his neck, feeling
his dick thicken with every whine that escaped the other teen's throat. He
smoothed his hand up his bare stomach and his fingertips grazed the erect nub
of his nipple, and Bill bucked at the small touch, gasping.
Tom almost hyperventilated. He was so incredibly turned on by the brunet's
responsiveness. He loved it. He wanted to do things to him, unspeakable things.
Forbidden, a voice in his head chided; but he was too distracted by Bill's lewd
keening to give it much thought.
The older teen's hand had found itself buried in unkempt blond locks, and he
suddenly tugged at them sharply, urgently straining his hips up against Tom as
intense waves of heat and pleasure overwhelmed his senses. His mouth stretched
open in a silent cry and he pushed up weakly a few more times before collapsing
back down onto the mattress in a mess of uncontrollable whimpers and spasms as
the long-awaited orgasm continued to rack his body.
The sight of his best friend- no, his...his... He couldn't bring himself to say
it. Bill -- so vulnerable yet unabashed under his gaze. Just shameless.
Shamelessly cumming in his pants because of Tom. He made Bill cum, and hard,
judging by the way he quivered still and looked at him through cloudy eyes.
One of Bill's hands abruptly tugged at his pants, and the other dipped into
them, fisting his aching cock through his boxers as he stared back lustfully,
seemingly turned on himself by pleasuring the blond -- and that was it for Tom.
Sweltering heat consumed him and he just managed to not fall over as he was
completely overcome by the orgasm, the sheer intensity of it making his head
swim and his limbs feel like jelly. His nails dug into the sheets and
he mindlessly cursed and groaned as his hips bucked with each satisfying spurt
of cum. It took every ounce of strength left not to collapse onto the brunet
who was still milking his spent cock with slow, lazy strokes.
His arms finally gave out and he rested his forehead on the older teen's chest,
softly panting against him.
When his racing pulse finally petered out, he swallowed hard and nuzzled Bill's
rumpled shirt, letting out a content sigh as Bill pet his hair.
The raven-haired teen hadn't calmed down so much though. His heartbeat still
thumped irregular and fast in his chest and his whole being buzzed pleasantly
but excitedly in the aftermath of their little fun.
It had definitely been too little. Bill craved so much more.
He looked over at Tom. He'd flopped over next to him, his arms stretched out
behind his head, and he was gazing dazedly at the ceiling.
Bill rolled onto his side and the other boy shortly followed. They stared into
each other's eyes and Bill felt hot all over as they shuffled closer, fingers
tangling between their chests. Tom let go of one of his hands and cupped his
face instead, barely an inch away, and the embers of lust smoldered inside the
brunet.
Their lips finally met in a deep kiss and the dwindling fire roared back to
life, his heart fluttering delightfully. He inhaled sharply through his nose
and clutched at the younger teen's wrist, hastily coiling his legs around
him. The blond quietly chuckled.
He was unquestionably ready for round two...when Tom's next words completely
thwarted him.
"Good night," he whispered before pulling the covers over them.
Goddammit.
Bill let out a breath he'd unknowingly been holding and parroted Tom's words,
placing one last, reluctant kiss to his soft and regrettably welcoming lips.
Tom snuggled into the disgruntled teen and they both ultimately fell asleep -
- at very different paces mind you.
===============================================================================
"Hey, kid. Wake up."
"Huh...?" Tom's groggy voice seeped out from the pillow his face was buried in.
He peeked an eye out and a bulky figure was in the doorway, looking fixedly at
him.
"Mhm..." He turned over and clutched at his best friend who was still
peacefully slumbering next to him.
"Kid, c'mon. We don't have all day."
With a grumble, he sat up, rubbing his eyes, and so did Bill, ultimately woken
by the derangement.
The blond was slipping his jeans on when Bill was finally fully awake.
"What's going on?" he mumbled sleepily, scratching at his bare chest. "Where
are you going?"
"On an assignment, Bill," Tom said. "I won't be gone long.
"Well... Can I come?"
The man snorted and Tom blinked at him, a smirk tugging at his lips.
"What for?" the tall man asked lightheartedly.
"Well, to help..."
"Ha! Sorry, kid, but I don't think so."
Bill's gaze dropped to his lap and he fidgeted with the soft folds of the
comforter, his mood steadily decreasing with each passing second.
"Sorry, Bill," Tom said, placing a warm hand on the bitter teen's shoulder.
"Maybe next time."
By the time they left he was but a leaden, grumpy mass on the bed.
It just wasn't fair that they didn't even give him a chance. Just one chance to
prove them wrong, to prove to them that he was useful. Of course he was! He
knew how to do a lot of things; okay, so he couldn't fight...or
shoplift...or...
A disgruntled noise slipped from the brunet's throat as he grudgingly rose, and
before long his morning routine was under way.
He also couldn't help but be frustrated...sexually, that is. Last night was a
step up from their previous times but...it still wasn't enough. He needed more
and Tom was set on not giving it to him. But why? He racked his brain for a
possible justification, apart from 'preserving his innocence' -- he scoffed. It
couldn't by any means be the actual reason, Tom had probably popped plenty of
girls' cherries, he reflected sourly.
Vexed black-rimmed eyes glowered back at him in the mirror and he bit the
inside of his cheek.
It was going to be a long day.
After getting dressed, he sluggishly made his way downstairs and settled down
for breakfast. As he picked at his food, a lilting voice broke into his sullen
bubble.
"Morning, Bill." Natalie greeted him with an affable smile which he couldn't
quite match.
"Hey, Nat," Bill said, his gloomy tone causing her to furrow her brows.
"Everything okay?" she asked, genuinely concerned.
"Yeah, fine."
"Well... Anything on your schedule for this morning?" She changed the
subject, disheartened by his lack of response.
"Um, nope..."
She grinned. "Mind helping out with the laundry then?"
"Sure thing." His tone was just oozing with enthusiasm.
"It's not so bad," she chuckled, giving him a considerate pat on the back.
"I'll be in the kitchen, come find me when you're done eating."
With that he was again left to his dismal thoughts, and he tenebrously finished
his meal.
===============================================================================
"So after it's been soaking for a few minutes, you scrub it on the washboard
and-"
Well, Tom did always get a boner whenever they fooled around, so that had to
mean something. Guys don't just get a hard on when they're making out with
someone if they don't want more. Right?
"-once you're done you wring them out and-"
Yeah, he knew for sure he wanted him -- hell, he didn't just want him,
he...well, he loved him, at least that was what he wrote in his...suicide note.
He was dredging up some precarious memories.
If he felt how Bill felt when they were together...he must've had a will of
iron to resist like he did. Bill definitely wasn't able to curb his desires, he
had no idea how Tom did, but the question was why. There was clearly no good
reason.
"-and make sure you-"
He just needed to find a way to make his resolution dwindle, just enough for
him to coax Tom into the act... Though he was pretty damn stubborn.
Maybe he could tie him up...
"Bill?"
He slowly raised his head to an outstretched arm and a fist full of fabric, a
distraught look in his eye.
Natalie nudged her hand forward, her expression torn between confusion and
hilarity, waiting for some sort of acknowledgement.
"Sorry, I'm just distracted," he weakly admitted and finally accepted the bunch
of materials. He started the process of cleaning them, dunking them in the
soapy water, and felt Natalie's concerned gaze on him all the while.
He was treading water anyway, he might as well try and get some help. Maybe she
had some advice.
"Can I ask you a question?"
"Yeah, sure."
"What do you do if..." he trailed off and sighed. He rubbed a drab rag over the
ridges of the washboard and went on, "if you want to have sex with someone but
they don't think you're ready?"
"Is this for a friend or something?" the smirking blonde asked, eyebrows
darting up her forehead.
"Huh?" Bill's eyebrows furrowed in confusion. "No, it's for me..."
She gawked ironically at him, but when he just stared back dumbly she pursed
her lips and shook her head, unimpressed yet amused by the brunet's naivety.
"Well what have you tried?"
"Everything!" Bill exclaimed in frustration. "I've made it so obvious!"
Natalie's smirk grew wider. "Subtlety is key, honey," she said with a wink
before making her way towards the door. "I'll be in room 263, bring those
clothes up when you're done?" And with that, she was gone, leaving Bill alone
and confused -- again.
***** Chapter 13 *****
Chapter Notes
     Hey. I have important news. Yes, I, not we.
     I, HittingSasukeIsFun, am now in charge of the story, alone. I didn't
     plan for this, and it's very saddening but...that's just the way the
     cookie crumbles.
     I thought about it long and hard that's what she said and I've
     decided to rewrite it, because there is so much I dislike about
     it...and it just plain needs it. Let's be honest.
     That being said, I have no idea when it'll start being posted again,
     but it definitely won't be soon... So, I guess what I'm saying is, as
     of now, clarify_it_hurts_is_on_a_temporary_hiatus. For how long? I
     can't say, but I wouldn't be surprised if it ends up being six
     months...or more. Hopefully not as much.
     It'll also be up on my_account instead, since I'll be the one writing
     it, and under a different name. I'll also announce it here of course.
     Meanwhile, I will be working on a few stories of my own, which will
     also hopefully start being posted very soon. All TH...so if you're
     interested, definitely look out for it on my account. maybe I'll even
     do other fandoms who knows
     I'd just like to apologize...for the past few months of inactivity
     and the next. It just has to be this way unfortunately. But I swear
     it'll come back bigger and sooo much better. :D You can bet on it. (I
     also have a snazzy new beta *sticks nose up*)
     Anyway, enough of that. Here...is the last chapter. I actually kind
     of don't see the point in posting it other than for this AN and to
     try to earn your love back...with smut. That's the key to your hearts
     right? xD Hot, smexy, underage lemonnnn
     Ah...I kinda want that too. T_T lol okay please enjoy even though I
     had a rough time finishing it and it's kind of horrible.
     kissuuuuu
     Beta'd by the awesometastic Acornaih even though this chapter is a
     complete mess and nothing could possibly have saved it :')
                                                       
 
Almost an hour later, Bill stood before a patchy white door with a plastic,
clothe-filled basket balanced on his hip. The chalky paint was chipped off
around the three gold-plated numbers and just as his gaze lowered to the pearly
door knob it abruptly twisted.
Out hurried a busty brunette who stalked down the hallway with a trained step,
despite her steep stilettos.
Bill meandered into the room, observing the under-dressed women as they
pampered each other. His eyes trailed over to a fixated Natalie, a mask of
concentration displaying on her features as she briskly buffed an olive-colored
shadow onto a redhead's eyelids with efficient strokes.
"Um," he said, in order to make his presence known, but he went unnoticed.
Frowning, he walked further into the busy room. "Nat?"
"Yeah, kid, just put it on the bed," she said without looking up, waving a hand
in the bed's direction. "Do you mind folding them?"
"No," he mumbled distractedly as he scanned the room. These must be the
prostitutes, he thought to himself as he plopped down onto the bed. They're a
lot prettier than I thought -- he made a face -- and cleaner. 
He plucked an article of clothing out from the basket and got down to business,
studying Natalie's handiwork all the while.
"Okay, done." She grinned and patted the girl's arm, and with a quick 'thank
you' and 'good bye', she left, only to be replaced by another girl, who Natalie
had hastily motioned over.
Several minutes later, she set down the saturated foundation brush and reached
for the rainbow-colored eyeshadow palette on the antique vanity. After hovering
over the wide array of shades with a small rounded brush for a few long
seconds, she scowled and clicked her tongue. Crossing her arms, she gazed
pensively at the brunette and cocked her head in contemplation.
"I'm thinking blue," she murmured, tapping her foot against the matted carpet.
Bill glanced up at her, then to the girl, and frowned.
"Uh," he cleared his throat, catching the attention of Natalie and the girl in
her chair. "Blue? Like a cerulean or a navy?" The blonde furrowed her eyebrows
in a mixture of confusion and curiosity.
"Cerulean, I guess. Why?"
"I don't know, I could be wrong," Bill started, placing a newly folded shirt to
his side, "but I think cerulean is too close to her eye color; it'd kind of
wash her out. Right?"
Natalie looked back at the brunette for a moment, examining her face
in contemplation. "You're right," she said in a low voice, and for a second,
Bill thought she was upset that he called her out, but then she smiled at him,
and he smiled back. "I'm impressed. Who taught you that?"
Bill grinned cockily. "I just-
Suddenly, the door slammed open, turning the heads' of everyone in the room. In
the doorway stood a tall, shaggy-haired blonde wearing all black and an
impatient scowl.
"Natalie, I told you five minutes ago that I should've been out of here
already! Bushido's gonna be up both of our asses if I'm late again."
"Fuck!" the older woman shouted, leaning against the vanity and massaging her
temples. "I'm sorry Steffani, I'll be with you in a second. God, I told him I
couldn't do this alone!"
"I don't have a second! I gotta be out of here now," the tall girl stalked
further into the room, crossing her leather-clad arms. "And there's no fucking
way I'm going out there barefaced."
Natalie glowered at the woman. "Listen-"
"I could do it," Bill spoke up hesitantly. "It would only take me five
minutes."
Natalie glared at him. "If you fuck this up, I'll kill you."
Bill grinned widely, clapping his hands in excitement.
"I won't, I promise," he said, skipping past the two peeved girls and over to
the vanity.
Everyone's gaze was on him as he dug around in the first drawer and plucked out
a small brush and some eyeshadow. Steffani took a seat on the drab wooden chair
and eyed him apprehensively as he approached. She eased up though when he
smoothed the smoky powder ably over her bare lids, but there was still a
discernible scowl between her tawny brows. Bill's lips twitched and he resisted
the urge to turn around and see all of those wary faces. He'd show them, he
thought complacently.
He strode back and deposited the used cosmetics in exchange for a hot pink
lipstick and a tube of mascara.
While he carefully traced her delicate lips, he flippantly wondered how many
dicks had been shoved between them. Probably too many to keep count. He pursed
his lips, and smirked when Steffani's scowl deepened. Maybe he'd ask her, you
know, as small talk. He almost snorted.
In the end he decided against it, instead complimenting the golden and silver
chained choker that fit snug around her neck.
"Uh, thanks. Am I done?"
"Yup," he dragged out his confirmation just enough to add the finishing touches
of mascara to her bottom lashes.
"Okay, later then." She rushed out the door and Bill sighed happily to himself.
Various degrees of surprise and amusement were painted on the women's faces and
Natalie wore an impressed pout on her glossy lips.
"Well, well, well...you've been holding out on us."
Bill beamed, resuming the mundane chore of clothe-folding.
"Can you do my makeup next?" one of the prostitutes, an Asian girl with a
layered fringe that covered one eye, eagerly asked, a bright smile on her face.
He glanced at Natalie in question and she clicked her tongue and nodded, waving
him off.
"Yeah, yeah, go ahead."
Bill skipped over to the brunette after snatching up all the different products
they would be needing and immediately started on the exaggerated winged
eyeliner they'd agreed on, finally feeling a little more fulfilled and a little
less useless. Thank God for all of those tutorials he'd watched on Youtube.
===============================================================================
"So, he pretty much rejects you every time?" inferred Fredie, a short-haired
brunette with piercing amber eyes.
He'd gotten to know all of them by name, and most of them were actually pretty
damn nice, much to his surprise.
"Well...no- I mean, not exactly. He always stops me but I can tell he wants it
too."
"How do you know?" Heidi asked with a smirk.
"Well, he," he started hesitantly and gestured vaguely with his hands, but,
peering up at everyone, he noticed all their grins and some even laughing under
their breath. He huffed and gave them a bras d'honneur before crossing his arms
over his chest. They burst out laughing and aw'ed and reassured him, but as
they quieted, Heidi repeated,
"Really, though. Are you sure he wants it?"
"Yes, already! You don't believe me?"
"I do," Echo, the Asian girl, said. "With the way he looks at you, you'd have
to be blind not to see how much he cares about you...and wants to get in your
pants, of course."
That was very flustering to hear...but it also felt good. It was nice to have
some sort of confirmation, because Tom sure didn't show it or say it that
often...or at all really. Sometimes he felt like some stupid little girl, dying
for attention from the boy that sat two tables over at school who she was
crushing on.
Just tell me you love me .
At times he really did want to say that... But he was so reserved with his
feelings, he would never... God, was it frustrating.
"Maybe you should wear something sexy."
"Does he like dirty talk?"
"Or you can tell him you have a boo-boo and you need a kiss to make it all
better and when he asks where, you shove your booty all up in his face! He'll
definitely eat that ass after that, trust me, I know."
As noted earlier, they were nice, but man were some kookoo.
Nonetheless, thanks to them he'd gotten a few promising ideas that were just
begging for execution.
He just needed to get the timing down.
===============================================================================
Shuffling feet and loud voices made Bill look up from his mostly empty bowl of
stew, and a smile tugged at his lips at the sight of Tom struggling in a
chokehold, laughs spilling from his rosy lips. He couldn't wait to pull him
into his arms and kiss him...and maybe even hump him, who knows?
Their eyes met and Bill melted as his friend's face lit up. He shoved away from
the grapple and past everyone that was in his way to ultimately grab a chair
next to the brunette. "Hey," he greeted somewhat breathlessly, settling down.
His eyes darted this way and that before he eventually pressed a brief kiss to
the older teen's cheek.
Maybe Tom wanted to hump him tonight too.
He took a deep, hopefully calming breath, and squeaked out a 'hi' before
slurping down the rest of his stew.
"Mh, I'm starving! I could eat a horse."
If he could eat a horse, he had to have room for a dick too, right?
Yeah, that breath had done nothing to hamper his perverted thoughts. Oh well.
Tom stood back up and whirled around to get his own dish from the kitchen.
"Um!"
He stopped short and stared back at Bill expectantly with one eyebrow raised.
He was so attractive. Why hadn't all this happened sooner? Goddammit, he knew
he should have kissed him that one time at the playground. So much sexual
tension and frustration...all for even more sexual tension and frustration!
Fucking fuck. He'd get him on his knees if it was the last thing he-
Oh, was that anger he saw on his face now? Oops.
"I'm just... I'll be upstairs," he nodded and pointed backwards with his thumb,
hopefully not looking too suspicious.
"Okay then," he slowly said, "I'm just gonna grab a bite."
Bill huffed as he brought his bowl back to the kitchen.
Tom had better grab a bite of something else tonight too, otherwise he would be
extremely dissatisfied and disappointed in him. It's not like he was asking for
much, just a little teeth action, for crying out loud!
His despondent moan echoed in the hollow staircase as he dragged himself up the
seemingly never-ending steps.
Tom better hurry the fuck up too, 'cause his boner was not about to wait a half
an hour untouched.
He paused in the stairwell with a pensive air.
Maybe it wouldn't go untouched.
He snickered impishly and raced up to their room.
===============================================================================
The door creaked open and in came a sluggish Tom. He inhaled deeply as he shut
the door and made his way to the bed. Man, what a day, he mused as he hauled
himself onto the springy mattress and next to the taller teen.
Today's task had taken place in a tiny convenience store. Sitting behind the
counter was an awfully old and frail-looking man, and his trembling hands held
a newspaper up close to his bespectacled eyes. They thought he was deaf or mute
-- or both -- because he had no reaction whatsoever to the shrill bell that
sounded when the front door swung open, and even to Gustav's extremely sensual
twerking.
They quickly finished stuffing their jackets and left, but Tom was feeling
overconfident and started emptying the shelves into a paper bag he'd snatched
from the counter. As he was doing so, a man had come in through the entrance,
eyeing him warily. Tom, as casually as he could, stopped and walked over to the
exit. He called him over but Tom didn't even turn around, opting to shove the
door open and rush out. He heard the man curse and when he looked back he was
regrettably right on his tail.
Ten minutes later when he finally lost him, he almost collapsed from
exhaustion.
And now he felt like he could sleep for two days straight.
He looked up at Bill as he played with a dreadlock, and there was something in
his eyes. Something...
Something Tom could not put his finger on, or at least couldn't be bothered to.
His lids drooped drowsily and he sighed.
A gentle kiss was pressed to his cheek then, and he barely had the strength to
even lean into the sweet touch -- and the several more that followed.
It felt so nice, so soothing; he loved Bill's kisses, and he already seemed to
be slipping into a dream state.
"At least take your shoes off before you zone out."
Tom huffed and heaved his leaden body into a sitting position at the edge of
the bed. While he untied his shoelaces, nimble fingertips skimmed up his back,
and a shiver went up his spine. The soft hands landed on his shoulders,
massaging his sore muscles, and he hummed at the pleasant sensation.
The blond's movements slowed and soon stopped altogether, unable to concentrate
on even the simple task of taking his shoes off.
Bill gazed longingly as Tom's eyebrows drew together and his flushed lips
parted, letting out labored breaths. He was really cute...and hot. He wanted
him so bad, it was almost unbearable; it kept him up at night. He would do
anything to get his way with him. He was the only one he wanted, and he'd
wanted him for so long, and now that he was finally his, he couldn't even have
him fully. It wasn't fair. He was just-
Tom yawned loudly and flopped back onto the bed with his arms over his head.
"So tired," he sighed out.
The other boy glared down at him. All Tom could think about was sleeping?
Didn't he have any idea how much Bill wanted to lay him down and screw his
brains out? Hell, he hadn't been this horny since Tom got his lip pierced.
He was about to push him back up so he could finish taking his goddamn shoes
off, but then a light bulb went off in his head.
He slipped off the bed with a sly grin and sat on his haunches at Tom's feet,
undoing what knots were left. As he shimmied one of his shoes off, the blond
lifted his head and blinked at him several times. "W-what-"
Bill just shushed him, removing the other shoe and placing them both neatly on
the floor next to him. He slid his hands up his thighs, leaning forward between
them, and Tom sat up, eyes widening. He itched to rip his pants off right then
and there but that would definitely not fly, so instead he hugged his waist.
Innocent, sweet, not sexual, he reminded himself; maybe this way he could trick
him into thinking that's all it was...and then pounce on him when the moment
was right. Oh fuck, he couldn't wait.
He kissed his stomach and let his hand stray to his hip, oh so close to the
tempting bulge in his pants. He sighed and squeezed him in his arms, making
sure to rub up against him as much as possible, and to that Tom stilled. Bill's
body buzzed in anticipation. Was his plan working?
Tom sighed again and combed his fingers through Bill's hair. He looked up at
him and kissed even lower on his abdomen, keeping eye contact all the while,
and the blond seemed to tense up and stop breathing, the grip on his hair
tightening.
Oh, it was definitely working.
His hand inched closer and he trailed kisses up his chest, the last one landing
on his blushing cheek. He knew his front was slowly falling, but so was Tom's
guard.
Though before he really did cave, he stood back up and returned to his original
spot behind Tom. "There you go."
He wrapped his arms around the other teen and nuzzled his neck, then slowly
trailed kisses from his shoulder to his jaw, each one less chaste than the
previous. His stomach churned pleasantly as Tom turned his head slightly toward
him, and it was just enough to feel each other's hot breath on their lips. He
deliberately pressed a kiss to Tom's cheek, heat crawling tantalizingly up his
neck, and the blond audibly swallowed. Bill's eyes traveled down Tom's chest to
the obvious swell of arousal in his jeans, and his breath caught in his throat.
He bit his lip, his heart pounding frantically against his rib cage.
Calm down, dammit. Or else he'll figure you out.
He released him and lay back down on the bed, grabbing his journal and opening
it to a random page. He'd never been so reluctant to do something in his life.
Instead of actually reading it though, he closed his eyes and tried his hardest
not to pay attention to the uncomfortable way his dick was stuck between his
stomach and the mattress and how much he just wanted to grind into it -- but
that was out of the question, it would give him away instantly.
Although, much to his surprise (and delight), the bed creaked and dipped down
next to him and a second later he was trapped underneath Tom's strong body.
As the younger teen kissed the back of his neck, an unbearable heat engulfed
him and he started to writhe uncontrollably, forgetting how to breathe again.
His hips undulated and Tom's jean-clad erection brushed against his ass...and
that was the point of no return.
He wriggled around til he was able to flip over onto his back, and once he did,
their eyes locked as they both breathed heavily, momentarily transfixed.
Bill broke the trance, yanking Tom down by the neck to hungrily claim his lips,
and it sent a jolt of pleasure straight to his groin.
Despite his fatigue, Tom couldn't help but respond to Bill and his own body's
screaming desires. His whole being felt like it was on fire and he whimpered at
the groping hands that roamed over his sensitive skin. How was Bill so
irresistible and sexy all the time? And seemingly without even trying. God help
him.
His tongue swirled over his neck and he thought he was about to faint.
"Shit, Bill..."
All he did was moan in response and continue the sweet torture. His cock
pulsed, aching for the same treatment.
Fuck, no, he could never make Bill do that, it was disgusting and horrible
and he was disgusting and horrible for even thinking it.
The loud unzipping of his fly being undone brought him out of his castigating
thoughts, and before he knew it his shirt was being pulled over his head and
his pants tugged down his legs. Soft lips and a hot tongue were all over his
bare chest, some teeth also coming out to play here and there, and he shivered.
Bill was in a frenzy. Was he finally getting what he wanted? He didn't dare
think yes -- God forbid he jinx it.
His hand gripped Tom's hip, and he foggily debated taking the plunge.
Opening his eyes, he was met by a lust-clouded gaze that stared heatedly back
at him.
Fuck, yes, this was it.
Slipping his hand underneath the waistband of his boxers, he hastily fisted the
hard flesh.
Tom abruptly pulled back, panting, and stared at him with tortured-looking eyes
and a scowl between his brows.
"What...?" Oh no, oh no, oh please no.
The blond ducked his head, swallowing hard and exhaling haltingly through
slightly puffy lips.
"Just trying not to come," he said breathlessly as he peeked up at him with a
tiny smirk.
Thank God. For a minute there he was scared the blond was about to rip his hand
off his...hard...throbbing...cock. He felt like he could almost come just from
the feeling of it in his hand and the beautifully pained expression on Tom's
face.
Wait.
He was...trying not to come.
It turned him on so bad to know that Tom was struggling not to come in his
pants, and it was all because of him. He made him want to come. He chewed on
his bottom lip, suppressing a moan.
As he began to stroke him, Tom seemed frozen, his breath escaping his parted
lips in irregular intervals, and Bill was mesmerized by the hot column of flesh
between his fingertips and how the foreskin slid smoothly up and down thanks to
the abundant precum that leaked from the tip.
He was really letting him do this. This was real. He was giving Tom a handjob.
His own dick pulsed hotly, in need of a touch of its own.
Suddenly the blond opened his eyes, fixing Bill with his intense regard, and
desire throbbed inside him, a whimper sliding from his throat. Normally he
would feel embarrassed, but at that moment he couldn't bring himself to care
about anything but Tom and his dick and his eyes and his lips and
his everything.
He sped up the pace and Tom hissed and groaned, slowly sinking closer to the
brunet til he leaned on his elbows and their faces were inches apart.
He brushed his fingers over Bill's stomach, making him twitch and gasp,
hypersensitive. His hand seemed to falter, becoming hesitant as it neared
Bill's own still boxer-clad erection, and his expression turned into something
tormented.
"You...you can, if you want," Bill allowed breathlessly, his voice drenched in
desire.
"I don't know," Tom choked out, images of his father crashing down on him and
making him feel sick.
It was Bill, dammit! It wasn't Jörg. He would never see him again; that
nightmare was over and now he was with Bill, and he deserved this. He loved him
and he would do anything for him. It was just a handjob, no harm done -- on the
contrary.
Despite telling himself all that, his hand just wouldn't budge.
"I'm sorry..." he whispered, and a deep pang of remorse reverberated inside
him.
But Bill's hand didn't slow down; if anything, it sped up.
It didn't really matter too much to Bill. He could deal with a neglected boner
-- he'd already been doing that for so long, he was used to it by now.
What did matter though was why Tom had acted that way. Something was definitely
wrong and he would have some serious interrogating to do afterwards. But right
now he wanted to make Tom come. Hard.
Tom continued to gaze at him with his lost, forlorn eyes, and the brunet was
becoming a bit irked by it.
He kissed his lips, again and again, wanting him to forget whatever was
haunting him and muttering "it's okay," and "don't worry," and even "just
concentrate on this," as he started to pump his cock at a rather fast pace.
Tom sagged over him, resting his forehead on his chest and thrusting into
Bill's tight fist.
"Yeah," Bill encouraged, adrenaline coursing through him when Tom groaned hotly
in response.
He let go for a second to take off his shirt, not wanting to ruin it, and Tom
looked up at him restlessly, to which the brunet smirked. He rubbed his palm
over the dripping slit and then the rest of Tom's pulsing member, making sure
to evenly coat it in the slick substance, and he resumed his steady yet quick
stroking. Mere seconds later Tom's body quivered and his hips jerked
spasmodically, moaning as his seed gushed onto Bill's bare stomach. The brunet
wanted to moan too, just from the feeling of Tom's hot cum splattering against
his skin and the incredibly sexy sounds he was making.
The younger teen panted as he looked up at him and Bill impulsively thrust his
hips up, still achingly hard, and there were those pathetic eyes again. He
clicked his tongue and huffed, disgruntled.
"Stop it," he covered his eyes, "it's fine."
"But...it's-"
Shushing him, he cupped his cheeks and brought their faces close.
"Don't worry," he whispered and pressed a kiss to his soft lips. "What you can
do, though, is clean me up," he added, his tone upbeat.
Tom rolled his eyes and lifted himself off the other teen.
"Yes, your majesty," he quipped.
Bill snickered, watching him tuck himself back in and stand to get a towel.
He'd let it slide this time, but Tom could bet his ass he would be demanding an
explanation tomorrow...and maybe a handjob or two to make it up to him.
For now though, he just wanted to get rid of the sticky, pearly mess on his
chest and lay with his favorite dreadhead, falling asleep in his warm embrace
til the morning separated them again.
Well, fuck. That was nothing to look forward to.
He grumbled curses under his breath and dismissed Tom's questioning looks.
He guessed he'd just have to hope he'd get that handjob, finally.
Only thing keeping him going:
Handjobs.
What a life.
Bill sighed as the other teen gently wiped him up and settled behind him when
he turned over on his side, snaking an arm around his waist. He laid his hand
over Tom's and quickly forgot his troubling thoughts, content to be snug in
Tom's embrace...though still absently fantasizing about his potential handjob
the next day.
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