mmom for more authors.Title: MMOM 03 - What Friends Are For
Author: Beren
Fandom: Tokio Hotel RPS
Pairing: Hints of Bill/Tom and Georg/Tom
Rating: R
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.
Warnings: hints of twincest
Series: #1 What Friends are For | #2 Hallucinations can be Fun | #3 The Things We Don't Do | #4 Rose Petal | #5 Plans and Passion
Summary:#1 - Georg is not expecting the show he gets when he walks into the living room of the apartment.
Author's Notes: Thanks to Soph for the beta.
Word count: 1,734
Other MMOM fics
Georg swore to himself as he climbed the stairs back to the apartment he had left only an hour or so before. He was fuming. He should have been almost home and instead he was stuck at the apartment for another night at least because some idiot had decided to ram his car from the side. Thanks to airbags and active seats all he was suffering from was a bruised elbow, but his car was probably a write off. He was fond of that car; not as fond as Tom was of the monstrosity that his friend called a vehicle, but he had formed an attachment.
He entered the apartment quietly, since he knew the twins had said something about watching DVDs and he knew how annoying it was to be interrupted in the middle of a DVD session. Later he would vent at them and he was sure Bill and Tom would listen and be sympathetic, but it would probably have to wait a little. They hadn't had much free time lately and fun and relaxation were important things in their world, to be cherished. He almost headed straight from the entrance hall to his room, but he heard something from the living room that made him curious and he went to see what the twins were watching.
The problem was that he did not find Bill and Tom when he looked into the slightly darkened room, he found one: Tom. The TV was on, but it's large screen was paused on an almost white shot and it was radiating light over Tom's recumbent figure. Georg began to think that maybe he had returned at just the wrong moment, possibly when Bill had run out to pick something up from the local shop and Tom was taking the opportunity of being alone. None of them ventured out much without a bodyguard these days, but the local shop was used to them and the one exception.
Tom was lying on the sofa lengthways and the voluminous t-shirts Tom always wore had been discarded over the back of the piece of furniture. This wouldn't have been a problem, since although it revealed Tom's rather impressively muscled shoulders and chest to the world, Georg had seen those many times before, but Tom's big jeans and plaid boxers were pushed down as well. Tom was lying there exposed to the world and Georg found himself kind of captivated.
Had anyone suggested to him that maybe he had a little bit of a thing for their guitarist he would have told them they were insane, but he froze and couldn't look away. A little part of his brain was hoping that he was coming in at the end of an episode rather than the beginning, but his eyes were quickly informing him of the truth. Almost as if on cue, Tom's hands began to move over the flat plane of stomach towards the hard member nestled in blond hair and Georg's mouth went dry. Really he should have said something, let Tom know he was there, but surely Tom had been listening for the door. If Bill was out, wouldn't it have made sense that Tom would keep an ear out for his twin.
Of course it was possible that Bill was just in his room or something, maybe on the phone and Tom was sure Bill wouldn't be back for a while. Georg had no idea really, he also seemed to have no motor control except in his eyes. His gaze followed Tom's movements and he felt the blood slowly begin to make its way towards his cock as Tom gently stroked himself. The little puff of breath that escaped Tom as he properly touched himself sent erotic messages straight to Georg's neither regions.
His logical brain tried to argue with his hormones as he stood there, but, since he made no move to withdraw, it was quite obvious which were winning. If it hadn't have been for the jeans pooled around his knees, Tom would have looked like some ancient Greek statue, all perfect physique and seemingly endless lines. Georg knew he would rationalise this later by the fact that he hadn't managed to get laid in quite a while, but at that moment he was man enough to admit that Tom did something for him.
He watched as Tom's hands moved over that perfect body, eliciting a little moan here and a hitch of breath there and his own body responded as if those hands were touching him. His jeans felt slowly more restrictive and his groin throbbed hotly as he took in every nuance of his friend getting himself off. It should have been illegal how sinfully hot Tom looked sprawled out on the sofa. The boldness of the arrangement was so typically Tom, which didn't help Georg's control of his own body at all.
Tom's ego had to have appeared huge to everyone outside the band, but Georg knew how much of that was real and how much was put on. Tom had a confidence about him that Georg had always admired and in private Georg had never had to complain about his friend's attitude. Knowing quite how self-possessed Tom was made Georg all the hotter. Contrary to popular belief shallow people did not turn Georg on; oh he could get off with a random girl when he needed to, but it was never overly satisfying and it happened far less than he liked to make out to the media.
The fact that he was now most definitely very turned on by his very much male band mate was a little bit of a surprise, but he was nothing if not adaptable. The voyeuristic nature of the moment wasn't helping him much with control either. The illicit nature of standing there watching Tom touch himself was making him harder than he remember being in quite a while.
As moments ticked past, Tom's movements became less controlled and Georg could hear his friend's breath becoming more and more erratic. Tom was close; of that much he was completely sure. Long guitarist's fingers seemed able to play that sculptured body almost as well as their usual instrument of choice.
What was most telling to Georg was the fact that, even though his jeans were now uncomfortably tight, he did nothing about it. He could have backed out of the room or rearranged himself, but he just stood there, captivated. All he had eyes for was Tom.
When Tom's hand sped up, Georg knew Tom was almost ready to go; he recognised the signs. It took a few more strokes, but then Tom was bucking upwards, framed by the harsh light from the TV like a spotlight, shooting creamy white droplets up onto that flat stomach and muscled chest. Georg could barely breathe as hot stabs of arousal made his cock twitch within its confinement. If Tom opened his eyes right then Georg knew he was sunk, yet complete stillness seemed to reign.
When a gentle hand touched his shoulder he almost jumped out of his skin and only just held back from yelling. Tom was sprawled on the sofa and the last thing Georg wanted to do was alert his friend to the fact that he was there. What could have been worse, however, was that there was only one person the hand could belong to. Very slowly he looked round, scared to death of what he might see; an angry Kaulitz was a scary creature indeed.
What he found was Bill looking at him with amusement in those deep brown eyes. Bill's cheeks were slightly flushed and Georg couldn't help wondering how long Bill had been standing there as well. When Bill turned and headed into the next room, Georg followed.
"He's beautiful isn't he," Bill said in little more than a whisper.
Georg really didn't know what to say to that; how did a straight guy respond to such a question when, to top everything off, the person asking was the object's twin brother. Bill smiled at him again and it was unnerving.
"I'm not allowed to touch, but I can still watch," Bill said and sounded of all things, wistful.
That sent Georg's brain in all sorts of directions that he had never considered before; never once had he thought of Bill and Tom together in a sexual sense. Bill pulled a coke from the fridge and went to wander back the way they had come.
"If you're lucky he'll let you do both," Bill said with a raise of one eyebrow and then swept out of the room leaving Georg stunned into immobility.
Had Bill just given him permission to molest his twin?
Unable to figure out what had just happened, thanks to the fact that his hormones were all over the place and he was shocked beyond belief, he followed Bill without thinking. What he found was an innocent scene: both twins, fully clothed as if nothing had been going on, sitting on the sofa talking quietly in a way that told him no one else would understand the conversation even if they could hear it. He came up short as they both turned and looked at him.
Just for a second he considered making a run for the front door and not coming back until his brain could at least manage sensible thought.
"Weren't you supposed to be home by now?" Tom asked as if the last ten minutes hadn't even occurred.
Tom had to know he had been watching; Bill would have told Tom, but his panic began to subside as he realised it was not going to be mentioned. At least not yet.
"Someone hit my car," he said, remembering why he was here in the first place.
"Oh, poor Georg," Bill said, standing up; immediately concerned. "Was it bad?"
For a moment Georg considered not letting everything go on as if it was normal, but then he decided better of it and launched into a rant about the idiot who had hit him. He wasn't sure what was going on with the twins or what was going on with him for that matter, but that was now a topic for another time. He let Bill sit him down and then he began to tell the twins what had happened, after all, that's what friends were for.
The End