Fandom: Tokio Hotel RPS
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: bodily fluids mentioned
Summary: Bill likes to play and he likes to touch.
Author's Notes: Billshido as requested by purpledna. Thanks to Soph for the beta.
Word count: 1,395
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Bill was bored, so bored in fact that even teasing Gustav about the girl across the room who had been making eyes at him all night had lost it's appeal. Tom was off with some bimbo, Georg was chasing some more mature skirt and Gustav was in one of his stoic moods. If that wasn't bad enough, the party was a blow out; nobody interesting at all. Well, nobody until he spied a familiar face in what had been an empty booth until a minute or so before; maybe the evening wasn't going to be such a bore after all.
Picking up his drink, he stood up and weaved his way through the few people between him and his target before sliding onto the bench seat.
"Well if it isn't my favourite androgynous super star," Bushido said as soon as Bill put his glass down on the table.
In response Bill gave Bushido one of his best smiles; things were definitely improving.
"Well I had to visit my favourite rapper," he replied in kind and gave his companion a very definite look.
The look made Bushido laugh; they knew each other much better than the press suspected, although it was very much a spur of the moment kind of relationship. They both had images to maintain, but they had each seen beneath the mask of the other at some point in their acquaintance.
"I see you're bored of the party," Bushido observed in the usual, slightly superior tone that Bill was very much used to.
Bill just let his eyes wander up and down the relaxed rapper and gave the man the big innocent eyes treatment.
"There was no one here worth playing with," he all but purred, belying the expression on his face.
He received a raised eyebrow for that. He had to play it carefully; he could usually count on Bushido to be up for some fun, but the rapper didn't like to be pushed into things. Bill was very aware that most of the time he was the pushy sort, but he also knew how to handle people and, if he played it right, Bushido would end up eating out of the palm of his hand, just like usual.
"So, little Bill," Bushido said, voice deep and sexy, "you want to play with me do you?"
"Don't you know I always want to play with you when I get the chance?" Bill replied, smiling in a way he knew tended to leave anyone he used it on at the mercy of their hormones.
Bill wasn't actually an overly sexual being, not like Tom, who seemed to need to get laid regularly or he forgot his own name, but he liked to dip his toe in the water every now and then. The thing was, he found far more delight in touching than being touched; he really was looking for the one for certain things and that was a difficult line to walk. He had discovered, just before his eighteenth birthday, that Bushido's ego was big enough to be just perfect for his little character quirk.
"One day," Bushido said, with a broad grin, "you're going to get me into a lot of trouble."
"You wish," Bill replied and wiggled his eyebrows.
That made Bushido laugh again, but Bill could see the heat below the humour, the other man was getting into the game. With a casual glance around the room to make sure no one was watching them too closely, Bill slid up the seat a little until he was within easy reach of Bushido. He made sure his body language said casual conversation, but slowly ran the fingers of the hand no one else would be able to see, up the inside of Bushido's thigh. The rapper slid down in his seat a little to give Bill better access and took a sip of his drink as if he was just listening to Bill talk.
"I like your trousers," Bill said in a light, conversational tone as he let his hand wander higher, "where did you get them?"
"Some photo shoot or other," Bushido replied, voice barely hitching as Bill carefully released the rapper's fly, "you know how it is."
"Oh yeah," Bill said, sliding his fingers under the material of Bushido's jeans, "I like those kind of shoots."
He lightly ran his nails over the rapidly hardening bulge he found under his hand, pressing just hard enough to be felt through the jersey material of Bushido's boxers.
"Hmmm," Bushido said, slipping even further down in his seat and taking a drink to cover the lapse.
"You would not believe some of things they've tried to put me in though," Bill continued to talk, enjoying the effect he was having on his companion.
He could feel Bushido becoming fully hard and it sent shots of excitement through him to know that he was the one causing it. The elicit nature of the situation helped as well and he let himself enjoy the throb of pleasure that pulsed through his groin for just a moment before controlling himself so that no one looking in their direction would guess what was going on.
One thing Bill was good at was nattering inanely while actually mostly thinking about something else, which meant he just started prattling on at Bushido, even though neither of them was remotely interested in what he was saying. What he was interesting in was the way Bushido trembled a little as he carefully pushed his hand into the folds of the rapper's underwear and how Bushido's breath came just a little shortened as he began to play.
He was good at this, he knew it and the way Bushido was reacting proved it. Bill liked to be good at things, liked to have others under his control and he had Bushido in the palm of his hand, literally. Even as he talked about nothing, the majority of his mind was on how to move his fingers just so to keep this going, but still increase his companion's arousal.
Bushido was watching him, looking him straight in the eye even though Bill could tell the rapper wanted to put his head back and moan. This was why he so loved this game, watching to see the passion in his chosen partner, playing the waiting game of when too much would push them over the edge. He moved his hand with practiced ease, ignoring the difficult angle and the confining space. That was part of the game too; using all his skill even under the most difficult circumstances.
Only near the end did he finally pull Bushido's hard, heavy cock from the confines of the man's clothes. Just before he upped the tempo and entered the end game. He had no doubt about what he was doing it took only a moment. The first time he had done this Bushido had not trusted him, but that had been a long time ago now and the rapper did not so much as try to do anything when his orgasm hit. Bill saw it as the moment arrived and moved instantly.
"Sorry," he said as he nudged over his now empty drink, spilling ice on the table and dived in with his free hand and the serviette on the table.
He caught the thick, creamy liquid that erupted from Bushido's cock, efficiently locking it away in the tissue. He milked Bushido for everything the man had, pretending all the time to be chasing ice cubes, and, when he knew the rapper couldn't take it anymore, he tucked his current toy back into the rapper's pants and carefully zipped him up. Then he sat back and smiled, popping the serviette into his righted glass as if he had just used it to mop up the spill, which in a way he had.
"Are you quite finished?" Bushido asked, as if amused by Bill's antics.
"Oh yes," Bill said, still feeling the throb of arousal in his own body.
He would he hard now until he could find somewhere private to sort himself out and he would enjoy every second of it. His habits were not exactly normal, he was well aware of that, but he had learned not to deny himself. While he had people like Bushido in his life, he would never need to.