Title: Now I Lay Me Down to Sleep
Fandom: Tokio Hotel RPS
Rating: R for violence and language
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: character death, suicide (I'm warning because these could be triggers, but if you read the prompt you will see why I can add 'not really')
Summary: A gun in the hand of a crazy girl destroys everything when she targets Tom. If given the chance anyone sane would try and stop that and Georg finds he is the one with that chance.
Author's Notes: Well I never thought I'd write a fic where I had to warn for character death, but please don't be put off. I may have skewed the prompt a little, but I believe it is in the same spirit. Thanks to my beta and thanks for reading.
Word count: 6,085
Prompt: There's been an accident and Georg ends up watching Tom die, right before his eyes. The more time passes, the more he wonders if there was something he could have done. Bill doesn't forgive him for letting Tom die, has completely shunned Georg from his life, and Georg can't even forgive himself. He wakes one morning to find that that day hasn't happened yet, that Tom is still alive and he and Bill are still on speaking terms. When given a second chance, will Georg be able to change the events of that day or is it already predestined? submitted by ophelia_seven
Everything was happening in slow motion. It was as if Georg could see every detail of every moment around him, but he couldn't reach out fast enough to stop it. The girl looked like any one of their fans; there was nothing about her at all that could have given her away, but then she had drawn the gun. He was standing right there, right beside her, and yet he couldn't move. All he could do was watch as she drew up the pistol, aimed it at Tom and fired. She was shouting something, but Georg couldn't even take that in, all he could hear was Bill scream as Tom pitched to the floor.
Blood seemed to be everywhere and Georg's mind refused to take in anything else. All he could see was Tom's glassy eyed stare as he looked over and down at his friend. There was no mistaking what he was seeing, but the fact Tom was dead refused to completely resolve in his brain.
All he could think as he heard Bill screaming for his twin was that everything was over. Everything had come to an end in a Swedish concert venue at the hands of one little girl.
The funeral was hard, harder than Georg could ever have imagined. Everyone was there, but it was like most of them weren't. Bill, usually the brightest person in the room, was silent and barely seemed to see anyone and it was as if Bill was the life for the rest of them as well. With Bill standing there grey and almost as lifeless as his twin it was as if the rest of the world had no choice but to be the same way.
Georg spoke to Gordon and Simone, but Bill didn't speak to anyone and didn't even look at him when he tried. It put a feeling of dread into Georg's heart and, after it was all over and he was at home, the phone call he received to say Bill was in the hospital having very nearly succeeded in committing suicide was not a surprise. Part of him actually thought they should have just let Bill succeed. Of course the other part was crying out in horror and he was in his car in minutes.
They let him through when he arrived at the hospital and he ended up in a room with Gustav, Simone, Gordon and David. All faces were ashen, all eyes red rimmed and dark shadowed and Georg knew it was bad. He wanted to demand that someone tell him exactly what had happened, but he held himself in check, moving over to sit beside Gustav when his friend looked up at him.
"He cut his wrists," Gustav told him very quietly; "they're not sure if he'll survive; they were almost too late."
There was nothing Georg could say to that, there were no platitudes suitable so he just nodded and sat back, waiting like everyone else. Time seemed to march on with infinitely slow seconds, one moment crawling into the next as the whole group waited in silence for word about Bill. It seemed that the clock had hardly moved every time he looked up, but his mind was empty of diversions to fill in the time. When the door finally opened, every eye in the room looked over to it. Simone moved out of her seat over to the man who entered when it became clear it was a doctor.
"How is he?" she asked, partially hopeful, mostly afraid.
All Georg could do was share her fear from where he was sitting.
"We have Bill stabilised," the man said and Simone let out a sob. "His family is welcome to see him if they wish."
Of course Simone and Gordon disappeared immediately and Georg finally let himself think again. Bill was alive; there would be no second funeral and no grave marker next to the first, not yet; at least there was hope.
David found them all some food at some point, seemingly unable to stop looking after them even though this was not a business situation. They talked a little after that, but it was nothing meaningful and eventually Simone returned and explained what the doctors had told her. Bill was still unconscious and would be until the following day and Georg reluctantly agreed when Bill's mum urged them all to go home.
He lost track after that, because he wasn't paying attention and somehow he ended up in Gustav's car and then in Gustav's house and then on Gustav's couch, where they shared a bottle of scotch and watched a really bad movie that Georg couldn't have named if his life depended on it. They didn't talk about anything, they just let time go by and, at some point, Georg must have fallen asleep, because he found himself waking up with a hangover just as light was coming through the windows.
"Shower's free," Gustav said, walking in towel drying his hair.
There was coffee and clothes waiting for him when he was done and then they walked back to Gustav's car without a word. The hospital was just as grey and smelt just as much of antiseptic as it had the day before as they walked in side by side. They went to the same room and sat in the same chairs and waited.
As Georg walked into Bill's hospital room after what had been hours of sitting in the waiting room, Bill was just sitting there in a hospital gown, propped up by pillows that made him look like a fragile doll. It was difficult to miss the bandaged wrists, wrists that had been slashed so viciously that the doctors weren't sure if Bill's left hand would ever work properly again. This had been no cry for help, no need for attention, Bill had been very, very serious and, by all accounts, if Simone hadn't decided to check on Bill, he would have been very, very dead.
As he looked into Bill's empty eyes, his heart twisted. He had loved Bill for a long time, but as he looked at the shell in the bed he knew his Bill was gone. That Bill had died the moment Tom had and what was left was a shadow. The only hope he had was that, maybe, with time, they could build this Bill into a resemblance of his former self. He prayed that they would be given the chance.
He had never told anyone how much Bill meant to him, not even Bill, and he was beginning to wish he had. He had no illusions that he could give Bill what Tom had, but maybe if he'd been honest Bill might have had something else to hold on to. There were too many ifs, too many maybes and Georg knew he could drive himself mad with them.
They were only allowed to see Bill one at a time, something about more people agitating him, but Georg really wished he wasn't alone. Bill wasn't really there, not in the way he was used to, and it felt so lonely.
"Hi, Bill," he said, walking up to the side of the bed.
Bill just continued staring at something that wasn't there. Georg sat down, not sure what to do. Simone had asked him to try and talk to Bill, see if he could get a reaction, because Bill had been totally unresponsive on a personal level since he had woken up.
"The press are being as stupid as usual," he decided to just talk as if Bill was actually listening; "they caught a photographer trying to sneak in here dressed in a female nurse's uniform; it was a guy."
Not so much as a flicker.
"Gustav wanted to come in here with me, but they wouldn't let him," he continued to ramble. "I claimed seniority; you know how he hates that."
It was more than obvious that Bill wasn't remotely paying attention, but Georg just continued to talk. He talked about the weather, the sports results, the current music charts, the fact that their album sales had gone off the charts. Basically he talked about anything that came into his head, hoping that somehow the sound of his voice might reach Bill even a little.
He was talking so long and about such random things that when he looked up and found Bill actually watching him all sound died on his lips. He had been staring at his hands and the last time he had looked up Bill had been staring off into space just like always, however, now Bill's brown eyes were fixed on him. They appeared empty, as if Bill's soul had already escaped with his twin, but Bill was really looking at him. For a moment Georg let himself hope.
"Why didn't you save him?" Bill asked in a dull monotone.
Five small words that sliced into Georg's soul like razors and made his breath catch in his throat. There was no accusation in Bill's tone, in fact there was nothing at all in Bill's tone, but there didn't need to be. Georg looked into those empty eyes and his soul tore.
"I ..." he said, trying to find something to say.
"Why didn't you save him?" Bill asked again in exactly the same way.
That was the point Georg snapped; he couldn't take it. He'd been holding it together, but the accusation was too much and he stood up rapidly. Bill continued to stare at him blankly and he began to back away. When Bill opened his mouth again Georg simply ran and he didn't stop running until he made it home.
All that he could hear were those five words. His mind replayed the events of the meet and greet over and over in his head, every time the same, every time there was nothing he could do. It was soul destroying.
His phone kept ringing, but he didn't answer it. He didn't eat, he didn't sleep, he just holed up on his sofa and stared at the black TV screen with the thoughts going round and round in his brain. Not so long ago they had played video games on that TV, all laughing and joking, totally innocent to how little time they had had left. Now the empty screen seemed to laugh at him with its blackness.
Someone banged on his door at two different times as he sat there, but he paid no heed. Only when he heard the door opening did he finally look round and saw a familiar figure walking down the hall. Of course Gustav had his spare key; he had forgotten. When Gustav stepped into the room, Georg could tell his friend had been crying and it finally broke the cycle of despair going on inside his head.
"Don't let go on me as well," Gustav said, sounding just about as broken as Georg felt.
Georg just opened his mouth; he didn't know what to say.
"I know why you ran," Gustav said before he could reply, "he asked us all, you know. He asked everyone the same thing. They had to sedate him to shut him up."
"I should have done something," Georg said, feeling desperate.
"Like what?" Gustav asked, all but yelling at him. "You could have stepped in front of the gun, but then you'd have been dead on that floor not Tom. That's not acceptable, Georg. They're both gone now; you're all I have left."
For a moment Georg didn't know what to think or feel as hearing that Bill was gone as well washed through him.
"How?" he asked, needing to know.
"They thought he was catatonic and they turned their backs too long," Gustav said, voice broken with emotion; "he made it to the roof before they could stop him."
Georg didn't need any other details. He felt spent and empty and devoid of life, but he pushed himself to his feet anyway. Their lives had been stopped as surely as Tom's by that bullet, but he was not about to leave Gustav to deal with it alone. Putting his arms around his friend, he pulled him close and the desperation of Gustav's embrace that came back was so real it actually pulled him back a little, but it hurt do much. The pain just did not seem to want to end.
Georg jumped when a hand touched his arm and opened his eyes, blinking hard. His heart literally ached and he barely believed what he was seeing.
"You okay?" Bill asked, frowning at him.
Bill was standing there, in front of him, whole, alive, makeup, hair, clothes all perfect and for a moment Georg could not comprehend it at all. Then reality finally dawned and he remembered where had was and what was happening. He had had a sleepless night, so Bill had suggested he take a nap before the meet and greet before the concert.
"Bad dream," he said, trying his very best to shake the nightmare away.
"You're as white as a sheet," Bill said, clearly giving him a once over.
"Really bad dream," was all Georg chose to say, because the images in his head were going to haunt him for a long time.
"Tell me about it after the meet and greet; it helps to talk about these things," Bill said and offered him a hand, "right now we have five minutes to get to the other end of the venue."
Georg accepted the hand and Bill hauled him out of his chair, which was very helpful, because he seemed to have managed to create a kink in his spine that shouldn't have been there. Next Bill handed him a hair brush and pointed him at a mirror and then waited with the half impatient stance Bill had when they were late for something. Bill hated to be late, not something most of the fans would have believed given how often their shows didn't run to time, but it was a fact. Bill usually did his nut more than the fans did.
Georg went as fast as he could and it wasn't long before he was schmoozing the meet and greet with the others just like always. He derided himself several times for looking for the girl from his dream, but he couldn't help himself; it had seemed so real. As a rule he didn't dream much and it was disconcerting to have had such a detailed one and still be able to remember it. It was almost as if he was incapable of forgetting it, like it was a vision or something. He honestly felt like he had lived through those terrible days and seen one of his best friends killed and another crumble and fall under the resulting pressure. He was not quite his normal cheerful self, especially since the only thing he remembered clearly about the meet and greet in his dream was the girl herself, but the current one felt eerily familiar.
They tended to divide the room at these things and then work it a little before meeting back up for the photos and it was as he moved on to the last group of girls that he went cold all over. There she was, the girl from his dream, quiet and mousy and hiding behind a group of others as if she was shy. Georg froze as total dread ran through him. There was no doubt in his mind, that was her, and she was staring at Tom.
For a few moments disbelief warred with his instinctive certainty and then he saw her move; her hand dipped into her bag in an all too familiar gesture and it came back holding a gun. It was all too real and all incredulity vanished in a heartbeat and Georg did not even think about what he was doing. This time he could not be frozen; this time he could not let Tom die. In one swift stride he stepped between the girl and Tom, hand going out to the gun, pushing it down. It went off, even as he knocked it from her hand and there were screams and he felt the shock of impact, but that was it, nothing more.
It was like being punched in the stomach in that all the air was forced from his lungs, but he didn't feel the pain until he looked down at himself and saw the blood welling from his side. It registered kind of absently that he'd been shot and he felt his knees buckling as security ran to restrain his attacker.
"Georg!" This time Bill's voice called his name not Tom's and his friend was by his side before he'd barely hit the ground.
To his surprise Bill looked scared, but not panicked and their singer ripped his own shirt off and pushed the bunched up material against the wound before Georg really knew what his friend was doing. That hurt, in fact that really hurt and Georg grunted out his pain, but Bill was relentless.
"Pressure," Bill said shortly; "I saw it on TV, you have to keep pressure on the wound."
Georg did not have the strength to argue; he just hoped someone was calling for an ambulance.
"Don't you dare pass out on me," Bill said sharply and dragged him back to reality, and he realised he had been drifting for a little while.
The fans were being led away and people were doing things all over the place. Bill was glaring at him pointedly. It occurred to Georg that the fuzzy feeling in his head and the black spots in his vision were probably not good and that these might be his last moments on earth. The only thing that would lodge in his brain was the fact that it might be his last chance to let Bill know the truth.
"Bill," he said, finding it harder to talk than he wanted to admit; "I need to tell you something."
"Just save your strength," Bill said, obviously upset, but focused.
The shirt which had been white was very red and Georg didn't think he had time.
"My girlfriend," he said, needing to explain.
"Someone will ring her, Georg," Bill said, interrupting him, "she'll be there when you wake up in the hospital."
"No, Bill," he insisted, putting his hand over Bill's, "it's not real."
It was difficult to talk because his breathing was uneven, but he forced himself to.
"The record company," he continued, doing his best to make himself heard, "told me ... one of us ... needed ... they hired her ... told me not ... to tell. Publicity. Said you and ... Tom ... more important ... expendable. Never loved her."
Bill was looked shocked and under the fear of what was happening, Georg could see anger.
"You're just as important as us," Bill said vehemently, looking him directly in the eye; "never forget that, Georg, promise me."
He could feel himself fading out, but there was just one more thing he needed to say.
"Always ... been in ... love ... with ... you."
There was nothing he could do as the blackness began to close in on his vision and the world started to drift away. He wanted to hold on, but there just wasn't anything he could do to make it work.
"Georg," Bill was all but yelling at him, "don't you dare give up. Listing open your eyes. If you die I will never forgive you."
Bill sounded frantic and Georg so wanted to ease his friend's worry, but he couldn't. Evan as Bill continued to yell things at him the world finally slipped away and there was nothing but blackness around him.
The first thing that registered was pain and he moaned quietly as he tried to open his eyes. His brain was all foggy and as he blinked upwards the ceiling looked a really long way away.
"Georg," he heard his name, but it didn't really register until it was repeated and then he moved his head in what he thought was the right direction.
It took him a little while to figure out that Bill was sitting beside his bed and he looked down a little and realised that Bill was also holding his hand.
"Do you want me to get the nurse?" Bill asked, calmly and slowly.
That didn't make sense right away and Georg had to conclude he was drugged up to the eye balls.
"Bill?" he asked in what turned out to be a really quiet voice.
"Yeah," Bill said and smiled at him just a little; "they would only let one of us stay with you so I volunteered. Your Mum's on her way from Germany, but she isn't here yet."
Georg had to go over that in his head as he tried to remember what had happened. It was not pleasant when his muddled brain finally provided the answer.
"Shot," he said in what he thought was a rather stupid manner, but it was about the only level his brain was working at.
"Yes," Bill's voice was just a little sharper then, "you stupidly brave idiot. You should have left her to security."
Bill seemed to be just a little upset if Georg was picking up the signals, which probably meant a lot of upset since everything was a bit muted.
"Couldn't," he said, doing his very best not to muddle his words, "bad dream."
He tried his hardest to focus on Bill properly.
"She killed Tom," he explained, even though he felt his tentative grip on reality floating away again, "had to stop it."
He saw Bill leaning forward then and Bill was saying something, but, whatever drugs were in his system still had a hold and all he could do was drift back to sleep.
When he woke up the next time his mum was there and Bill wasn't and she fussed and cried and he tried to reassure her even though he was three sheets in the wind thanks to the drugs. In the end he was pretty sure he fell asleep again in self defence. He didn't see Bill again until what, he found out, was the second day after the shooting and then Bill was with Tom and Gustav. He really wanted to speak to Bill alone, but it wasn't as if he could throw the other two out, since they had come specially to visit him. He might have been mostly out of it after being shot, but he definitely remembered confessing all and he needed to talk to Bill about it.
As fate would have it, however, the publicity machine was on the move and since the twins were the band's designated media face, they were taking the brunt of it. Georg ended up being left with Gustav and not Bill.
"So," Gustav said after the twins had left, "you actually went and confessed to Bill then."
Georg made a mental check to see if he was on too much morphine.
"What?" he asked, not sure he wanted to have heard correctly.
Gustav smiled at him and settled back in his chair.
"Well I know you've been besotted with him for years..."
"How?" Georg asked, suddenly afraid he had been way too obvious.
Gustav smiled again.
"When Bill or Tom is looking you're very careful," Gustav told him, "but with me, not so much. I take that as a compliment, by the way."
That let Georg relax just a little; Gustav always had been an observant son of a bitch.
"As I was saying," Gustav continued, "while I was trying to stop Tom freaking out I saw you talking to Bill and I don't think you were talking about the weather. With the way Bill insisted that he be the one to sit with you after they dug that bullet out of you I came to the logical conclusion. You're lucky Tom thinks you're still completely high on the drugs they're giving you or you'd be getting the third degree by now for making mooncalf eyes at his brother."
Georg made a mental note to stop doing that until he was strong enough for a twin talk.
"Yes I told him," Georg replied and shifted a little to try and make himself more comfortable, "and I can't believe you didn't let on that you knew."
"I was kind of hoping that eventually you'd get over it and just tell him," Gustav said with a small grin. "You had me really confused with the whole girlfriend thing for a while, until you finally introduced her and I realised you didn't actually love her at all. Why did you do it?"
"They made me," was all Georg said; he really did not want to talk about it.
By the looks of it that was the last piece of a puzzle Gustav had been working on, because the drummer's face lit up.
"Oh," Gustav said with a nod, "that explains Bill's furious phone calls that he won't explain to anyone. I get the feeling someone is going to be fired soon."
Georg wasn't sure if he should feel sorry for the person who was responsible once Bill found them, but eventually decided on not; after all they had tried to blackmail him. It might have been to up the image of the band, but they could have just asked him.
"I hope he gets to meet them face to face," he said and realised that maybe he was feeling a little more vindictive than the drugs in his system were letting him comprehend.
Gustav grinned broadly at that.
"So do I," the drummer replied.
They remained in companionable silence for a little while, Georg imagining the wrath of Bill coming down from on high and then he dragged his brain back from fantasy land.
"Can you help me see Bill alone?" he asked, hoping that Gustav would be willing to help. "Please?"
For a moment he got the blank stare of doom, but then Gustav smiled and he realised his friend was just messing with him.
"Already working on the plan," Gustav replied and patted his arm.
He sent a small prayer upwards for having a friend like Gustav and breathed a sigh of relief.
"Thank you," he said and he really meant it from the bottom of his heart.
The next day, after lunch, Georg found himself sitting up in bed with Bill sitting in the chair next to him. He had no idea what Gustav's plan had been, but it had clearly worked.
"How are you feeling today?" Bill asked, having just produced a whole heap of fruit and sugary sweets to keep them both going.
"Sore," Georg replied with a small smile, "but much better. They're beginning to wean me off the drugs so expect me to get crankier."
"We'll distract you," Bill replied with one of his brilliant smiles.
Those were part of what had made Georg fall for Bill in the first place; they were so genuine and full of joy.
"I'm counting on it," he replied, feeling his stomach flutter just a little.
For a few moments they were both silent.
"Georg," Bill finally said, sounding hesitant but resolved, "do you remember what you told me after you were shot?"
It would have been really easy to say no and make Bill do all the work, but Georg wasn't like that.
"Every word," he replied, looking down and watching his fingers as he played with the edge of the blanket.
"I've almost found the moron responsible for the whole girlfriend thing," Bill told him, clearly going for the easy topic first.
"Gustav said," Georg replied with a small smile; "he figured it out when I told him that I told you."
"Of course he figured it out," Bill said with a grin that was a little too happy; "he's Gustav."
No one in the band was stupid, they wouldn't have gotten along if someone had been far behind the others, but Gustav was definitely a head above the rest of them.
They looked at each other and Georg knew what Bill was thinking about, but neither of them seemed ready to say it.
"About the other thing," he finally broached the subject.
"If that was just a deathbed confession that turned out to be premature," Bill said rapidly, "I won't mind."
Georg gave his friend a little smile for giving him an out, but he wasn't a coward.
"No," he said, feeling embarrassed, but knowing he had to keep going, "I've been trying to find a way to tell you for years."
Bill eyes appeared huge as they looked at each other.
"How long?" Bill asked.
"How long have I been in love with you, or how long have I been trying to tell you?" he asked in response; he wasn't quite sure what Bill was asking.
"Both," Bill said with a little shrug.
"You were thirteen when I realised," Georg told his friend with a fond smile at the memories, "and I decided to try and tell you when you were sixteen, but never quite managed it."
Bill had an expression on his face then that made Georg think the singer was doing maths.
"That's a really lousy success rate," Bill said eventually and made Georg smile.
"Tell me about it," he replied, feeling just a little bit of an idiot.
Very gently, Bill placed his hand over Georg's.
"Why me?" Bill asked, sounding of all things, confused.
"Because you're you," Georg said, not really understanding how anyone could not be in love with Bill. "You might be half of a pair, Bill, but you're unique and infinitely loveable. Thousands of people love you."
"But they don't know me," Bill replied looking at him very directly; "you do. You've seen me throw tantrums and be an idiot and everything that they don't see."
"And those times have just made me love you more," Georg replied, feeling like a weight was being lifted from him for the first time.
The fact that Bill was not disgusted or appalled or anything like that meant a lot to him.
"I didn't know you liked boys," Bill said after a few seconds thought.
"Always have," Georg replied, thinking things over in his head; "figured it out about the same time I figured out I was in love with you, but I haven't ever gone out of my way to pursue a guy, so there's no reason for you to know. I know you're straight, Bill," he continued; "you don't have to worry; I just needed you to know."
Bill frowned at that.
"Yeah," Bill said, but it didn't sound particularly convincing.
Georg stopped thinking for a moment then and just looked at Bill; there was definitely something going on behind Bill's eyes.
"Talk to me, Bill," he encouraged, because Bill didn't usually look like that unless he wanted to say something and just wasn't quite sure about it. "What are you thinking?"
Bill took a deep breath, frowning a little more.
"About the straight thing," Bill said, looking very unsure, "um, just recently I've been thinking, that, well, maybe I've been trying to be too much like Tom. I think that, maybe, I might have been ignoring things, subconsciously."
Georg was honestly shocked because, no matter what Bill looked like, Bill had always been one hundred percent sure he was straight. There was no making it up for the press, Bill had always been adamant.
"You think you might be bi?" Georg asked, trying to feel out the situation.
He received a nod as a reply.
"You know Tom's always got there first with everything like that," Bill said, clearly trying to explain himself, "and I've just followed along and I think because Tom never fancied boys I kind of just never thought about it. Then people started accusing me of being gay and I knew I definitely wasn't because I like girls and then my stubbornness kicked in and I only recently began to think maybe I wasn't paying attention."
For a little while Georg just let that sink in.
"Bill," he said eventually, "you're not just saying this because of the shock are you?"
Bill gave him a look that had he not been mostly immune to Kaulitz expression might have killed him with disdain.
"Okay," he said quickly, "I had to ask."
"I kind of started thinking about it when we met the DSquared guys," Bill said, relaxing again. "They're the same and yet they're so different too. It made me look at me and Tom and I began to see things about me I hadn't seen before."
"And how do you feel about that?" Georg asked, remembering his own internal crisis when he had figured it out.
He'd only been a teenager at the time, but his mother had been very supportive and helped him through it.
"Sort of scared," Bill admitted quietly.
Georg took Bill's hand and squeezed it gently.
"There's nothing wrong with being bi," he said with a small supportive smile, "and no matter what the suits say, I think half the fans would spontaneously combust with joy if you ever decided to tell them."
The way Bill's eyes went a little round and his mouth opened slightly, Georg didn't think Bill had considered it like that.
"Oh god," Bill said eyes sparkling just a little, "could you imagine the meltdown at the record company if I ever did?"
That made Georg grin; it appealed to his sense of humour.
"Georg," Bill said snapping him back from his enjoyment of the mental images of the record company going mental and he looked up at his friend, "can I kiss you?"
"Bill, um, I..." he really didn't know what to say.
"One of the things that made me start to think," Bill said, just sitting there looking at him, "was how fluttery my stomach got if I caught you stripping for a show or a photo shoot. You're part of what gave me a clue."
There were so many reasons that this could be a bad idea, but not one of them would resolve in Georg's brain.
"Okay," he said, voice cracking.
Bill stood up slowly and very carefully placed a hand either side of him on the bed, careful not to pull the sheets too tight, before leaning down and placing a very gentle kiss on his lips. For a moment he felt himself tingle all over and then Bill was drawing back and he didn't want him to, but he knew he wasn't up for much more just yet. Bill smiled at him then, a full on, lighting up the room smile, and sat back down, taking his hand.
Bill didn't need to say anything; Georg could see it in Bill's eyes. Bill had that look that he got when starting a new project or having a new idea and warmth spread around Georg's heart as he realised he was that new idea. To have Bill Kaulitz's full attention like that was a little scary, but Georg wasn't going to say no.
Just then there was a light tap on the door and Gustav stuck his head in. It was more than obvious that their drummer's eyes zeroed in on their hands, clasped tightly on the bed.
"Tom's coming," Gustav said simply, a small smile playing at his lips.
A little over ten seconds later Gustav entered the room, closely followed by Tom.
"Hi guys," Tom greeted cheerfully and then his eyes did exactly what Gustav's had.
That was when Bill stood up, patted Georg's hand, gave him a very sweet smile and then let go.
"Tom," Bill said, striding over to his twin, "we need to have a little talk, come on."
And then Bill grabbed Tom by the arm and led him back to the door. Tom appeared more than a little confused.
"Look after him for me until we get back, will you, Juschtel?" Bill said sweetly before steering Tom out of the door.
Gustav was looking more than a little amused as the twins left.
"You are going to be so whipped," was Gustav's comment on the situation and Georg gave an over dramatic groan.
Gustav might support him, but that didn't mean Gustav wasn't going to take the piss out of him too.