Title: MMOM 26 - The Evils of Alcohol
Fandom: Tokio Hotel RPS
Pairing: Georg/Gustav, Tom
Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction, the real people in it are used without their permission and I definitely don't own them or have any copyright to any part of any of them. I do not believe any of this happened, is likely to happen or should happen it is simply a story created around known facts about those involved.
Summary: Tom's been involved in a drinking game and he ends up somewhere he doesn't expect.
Author's Notes: Thanks to Soph for the beta.
Word count: 2,595
Link: Other MMOM fic
Tom was drunk and not just a little drunk; he was drunk as in very, very, very, completely shit-faced drunk kind of way. Right about then he couldn't remember what had possessed him to get into a shots drinking game with some random blonde, especially since said random blonde was not now staggering to his room with him, but he was pretty sure he had had a good reason at the time. He fished into his pocket and came back with his card key, the first problem was when he looked there were two card keys in his fingers and the second was that in his current state he couldn't remember his room number.
He knew it was just down from the lift and he knew it was on the right, but even in the short little corridor with a fire exit at the end, there were two doors that fitted the description. He dimly remembered that Bill's room was opposite his and he was pretty sure the other card key was his twin's so it seemed like a good idea to just try the keys in both doors on his side.
It took him a while to fit the first key in the slot on the door lock and the little red light kept flashing at him so with a low growl he removed it again. The world was lurching rather nastily and he knew he needed to lie down soon, but trying to hurry did him no good at all. He missed the slot at least five times before a combination of inching upwards by millimetres and leaning heavily on the door seemed to work. The little green light went on and he thanked the world in general that he didn't have to try and make it to the next door down.
Stumbling through the door, he let it slam behind him and didn't even bother turning on the light. All he wanted was a bed and to pass out in it. Not illuminating the proceedings did, however, turn out to be a mistake as he promptly fell over something and landed face first on the carpet making quite a lot of noise.
"What the fuck?" he heard from somewhere and a light went on.
It was then he began to think that maybe he had the wrong room. There was the sound of people moving, but he was still too dazed to look up.
"It's Tom," he heard a very familiar voice say.
"And he's off his face," another, also very familiar, voice said.
He would have replied, but the carpet was far too comfortable for him to move. Instead he just moaned and then lay still. He thought that maybe if he remained motionless the room might make the same concession.
"Let's get him onto the spare bed," one of the familiar voices said and two sets of hands reached to pick him up.
"Why does he have your room key again?" the other voice asked.
Tom prayed that everything would stop moving soon or he thought he might throw up.
"Because he was supposed to give it to you," the other voice replied and a little light went on in Tom's head; now he remembered why he had two room keys.
"And instead he crashed in here at two in the morning blind drunk," the other voice did not sound very happy.
"Well we can make him pay in the morning," the other replied and Tom thought that should have worried him, but they'd put him on a nice soft, solid, stationary surface and he was too happy about that to care.
Sighing he decided that the world was a nasty place he wasn't interested in any more and let himself drift to sleep.
Tom was in the bathroom and trying to drown himself in a sink full of cool water before it dawned on him that there was something strange about the room. As this idea slowly resolved in his mind, he very carefully moved so that he could look around. The harsh light in the bathroom was hurting his eyes and making him squint, but he could see just about enough to make out the various products on the marble sideboard. One thing that he was very sure of was that he didn't use hair straighteners of any sort.
He wasn't in his bathroom; he was in Georg's.
It was at that point that some very vague memories of the night before came back. Trying the card keys in the lock was almost clear in his mind and, now that he was no longer off his face, he remembered Georg giving him the other key and asking him to pass it to Gustav when he had the chance.
Georg and Gustav had been, Tom hesitated to call them a couple although he suspected that that was where his friends were heading, for precisely three weeks. So far, he and Bill were the only other people to know and so the pair was sneaking around. The whole card key thing had been Georg being paranoid, but somehow Tom had missed Gustav in the hotel lobby and then he had been distracted by the blonde and the drinking game and that, as they say, had been history.
He looked at himself in the mirror and decided that the best idea would be to remove himself from Georg's room as soon as possible. His reflection appeared half dead and he was pretty sure that his tongue was welded to the top of his mouth, so getting back to his own room seemed like a very good plan. However, as he checked his pockets, he realised he was key card less, which meant they had to be somewhere in the still dark room outside.
His head was pounding and he felt like complete crap, so searching a dark room filled him with so much joy. He had no idea if Georg and Gustav had been in the other bed or if it had only been Georg, since he hadn't even noticed it wasn't his room until the bathroom, but he thought whoever was there was probably still asleep. Taking the little travel toothbrush the hotel had so kindly provided along with shower caps and the like, he did his best to rid his mouth of the taste of dead rat; he was partially successful.
Then he thought about going and banging on Bill's door and borrowing a bed until it was properly morning, but the idea of a grumpy Bill scared him more than waking up to find that both Georg and Gustav were in the other bed. He thought it might have been two people who put him to bed the previous night, but he wasn't sure if it hadn't been his imagination.
Thinking about it, he decided that quietly staying in Georg's room was the best idea, but he felt a little grungy. Locking the door he slipped off his clothes and prepared for a very quick shower. He hoped the hot water would help with his head as well even as he tried to keep his dreads out of the way. It didn't take him long to at least feel a little human again and then he dried himself off with what he hoped was a spare towel (he could always get Georg one from his room when they were all awake), pulled back on his t-shirt and boxers and then wandered back into the other room
All was still quiet and he climbed into the bed on which he had been lying earlier and hoped that he could sleep while his head was throbbing quite so badly. It only took him a few minutes to drift off again.
Something woke Tom and he lay there feeling fuzzy trying to work out what it was, then he heard something; a very definite moan. It occurred to him that there was light coming through the gaps in the curtains and the moan had come from the other bed in the room and he did his very best not to move. At least his headache seemed to be minimal now.
There was a sigh and Tom realised that remembering two people putting him to bed had been right, because he was positive the sigh came from a different person to the moan. That meant that Georg and Gustav were in the next bed and they were definitely doing things. Tom didn't know whether to move and indicate he was awake or pretend as well as he could that he hadn't heard a thing and was still in dreamland.
"Do that again," he heard Georg whisper.
He wanted to bury himself under the duvet and pretend his friends were not making out a few feet from him. They had to think he was still soundly asleep and given the state he had been in the previous night it was a reasonable assumption, but there was no way he could fall back to sleep now.
Georg hummed in the back of his throat and whatever Gustav was doing sounded like it was very good. Having friends in a gay relationship was not an issue for Tom, lying there listening to them go at it was. He did his very best to remain perfectly relaxed, but it was kind of difficult.
When Gustav started moaning quietly as well, he really did consider interrupting them and fleeing, but part of him thought that would be kind of unfair. He was the interloper after all.
"Take your boxers off," Georg whispered very quietly, "I can't reach properly."
There was some shuffling and then the low moaning was back. To his horror Tom found that the moans were beginning to turn him on. He could feel his own cock beginning to harden as little shots of arousal snaked straight to his groin. It was a very close thing as to whether he let out a moan of his own.
"Oh god, yeah, there," Gustav said quietly, but urgently, "harder."
Tom bit his lip, chewing on his lip ring to keep himself from making any noise at all. He really shouldn't have found listening to two of his band mates get off that arousing, especially since he wasn't into men at all, but something about the sounds was bypassing any sense and going straight for his cock.
More moans, some groans and some almost illegal whimpers came next and Tom thought he might die. He was completely hard by now and was almost desperate to do something about it, but he didn't dare.
"Don’t mind me, I'm just getting off to the sound of you two getting off," didn't seem like such a good way to go.
He didn't even move slightly, because the last thing he wanted his friends to know was that he could hear them.
If the shallow breathing and desperate gasping were anything to go by, Tom reckoned that one or both of the other two were close and he prayed the ordeal would be over soon. How he was going to look them in the faces after pretending to wake up a significant time after they were done he had no idea, but he just wanted this over now. His cock was throbbing and his hips were threatening to move on their own to create a little friction against the bed and the only thing he had to be thankful for was that he was facing away from the other bed.
When there was a little cry and the sound of a mattress moving, he knew one of the pair had gone, but he was too distracted to know which.
"Come on, love," he heard Georg say after a moment and had to assume it was therefore Georg who was done, "let me see you come."
Tom almost bit through his lip especially when Gustav moaned and gasped and ... Tom tried to shut off his brain as mental images of exactly what Gustav might look like at that moment tried to crowd in. He prayed that it was over now and he knew he probably looked so tense he couldn't possibly be asleep, but hopefully his friends were too involved in each other to notice. If they realised he wasn't asleep he would die of embarrassment.
"Tom," Georg's teasing tone floated across the room; "we know you're awake."
Tom wanted to sink into the mattress.
"Yeah, you were snoring until I hit you on the head with a sock," Gustav said with a laugh.
Tom gave up with a groan as he realised he'd been set up.
"Enjoy the show?" Georg asked as he rolled over to glare at his friends.
"We expected you to be out of the door by now," Gustav said, clearly finding his discomfort hilarious.
"Bastards," Tom said very pointedly and regretted it almost instantly because it made his head hurt.
"Headache?" Georg asked in a less than sympathetic tone.
If Tom had been feeling generous, he would have accepted why his friends were punishing him, as it was he really wanted to hit them.
"We know a good cure for a headache," Gustav said in a very seductive tone, which really was so un-Gustav like that Tom had to blink.
"You come any closer to me and I'm screaming for security," Tom said and stuffed a pillow over his head.
"Help, help, I'm being molested," Georg said in a terrible falsetto.
"I hate you," was all Tom muttered peering at the pair from one eye under the edge of the pillow; "if I hadn't lost my key card I'd have been gone before you woke up."
"Oh, you mean the one Georg took out of your pocket last night?" Gustav asked, picking up and waving a card from the bedside table.
Tom was just outraged enough to not worry about the pain.
"You stole my room key!" he protested, sitting up and glaring.
"You woke us in the middle of the night," Georg replied in a very unrepentant tone, "we had to pay you back. Either you took your chances waking Bill up or we got to torture you this morning."
"Either way, we win," Gustav said and climbed out of bed, giving Georg the card key before heading for the bathroom.
Tom would have shut his eyes to save his sanity when it became irrelevant as he realised that Gustav was in fact wearing boxers.
"You weren't even doing anything," Tom said in disbelief.
"No," Georg said, laughing as he did so, "but if you wouldn't mind pissing off, we'd very much like to, and just remember that next time you get drunk, use your own room key."
That was one thing Tom was not going to forget in a hurry as he slowly climbed out of the bed. He was very glad of his baggy t-shirt because he really didn't want to have to explain why he had a very prominent hard-on after having listened to his two friends pretending to get each other off. He swiped the key card from Georg's hand and picked up his clothes where he had dropped them on the floor.
He was almost out the door when he turned back.
"Thanks for putting me to bed," he said since he was grateful; they could have just chucked him back in the corridor.
Georg just waved at him and then he walked quickly to the door; he had an appointment in his own room with his hand.