Janni, NC17, Tom/Bill, 1/?

[steins_stories]

Title: Janni
Author: steinsgrrl
Fandom: Tokio Hotel
Pairing: Tom/Bill
Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction. I in no way intend to insinuate that any of the below actually happened. It is simply a piece of written entertainment based on the public personas of real people.
Rating: NC17
Warnings: Twincest-not related, Adult Concepts, Light Kink
Summary: When two men meet and fall in love, they expect there will be bumps in the road. When one of those men has a daughter, some bumps can seem more like mountains.
Author's Note: Thank you so much to ma_chelle for the beta. You are invaluable. Lovely banner by lynnchan. The first chapter is quite old, and it gets better. I'm only a little nervous about this.



“It’s about time you got here, man!” Georg stood up and clapped his old friend on the shoulder.

Tom slid into the chair next to Gustav and nudged the blonde’s arm with his elbow.
“Hey. Sorry, I had a hell of a time getting out of there. I have a new client. They’re high-maintenance, but the money is good.”

Tom’s eyes scanned the pub. He and his friends got together for lunch once a week or so, but this was a new place for them. Dark wood accented rich blue walls and stained-glass lamps hung low over clean, heavy wood tables. The windows were made of thick and wavy leaded glass with a wide strip of multicolored pieces across the top.

“Well, hotshot, since you were late, I ordered for you. I hope you’re okay with a cheeseburger and fries, and a beer.” Tom nodded, unwrapping his silverware and moving his beer mug away from the edge of the table. “And ranch dressing on the side.”

Tom grinned. “Thanks. So when do you guys leave?”

Gustav glanced at his watch, a complicated-looking device with more buttons than anything electronic that Tom owned. “We’re supposed to leave in three hours. We’ll need some time to get to the airport, so we should probably leave here in an hour or so.”

“Here’s hoping the food gets here quickly, then.” Tom raised his mug and took a deep drink of the foamy, amber beverage. With an exaggerated sigh, he replaced the tall mug on the square, cork coaster in front of him. He must have been thirstier than he thought; he’d downed half the beer at once. He folded his arms over his chest and sat back in his seat, feeling much more relaxed.

“I assume you have your itinerary? I can’t imagine Gus going two hours without knowing what he’s doing next.” Tom chuckled, slightly pushing his bandana back from his forehead.

“Of course. Everything is planned, booked, and ready to go. We’re going to spend a week hiking and camping in the Black Forest,” Georg looked at Gustav pointedly, “but then we’re actually going to spend a couple days at a spa before we come home.”

Tom snorted. “How’d you get him to agree to that? I can’t see—“

“Here you are, gentlemen.” Tom straightened as his lunch was placed carefully before him. He glanced up and stopped breathing. The glance became a stare.

Before him, in the form of a bartender, stood the most beautiful…man? Yes, man…he had ever seen. The idea of a man being beautiful struck him as preposterous, but no matter what his brain was telling him, Tom still couldn’t take his eyes off him. The man was tall and lean, with long black hair tied loosely at his nape. He moved gracefully, delicate hands placing each plate gently in front of his customers. His eyes were dark, velvet brown, thinly rimmed with kohl, and his lips glistened with the merest hint of clear gloss. The effect was a fascinating mixture of masculine and feminine, and devastatingly captivating.

The bartender placed the last hot plate in front of the stocky blonde and took a step back from the table.

“…and the ranch dressing?” He held out a small plastic cup.

“That’s…uh…that…” Tom felt his cheeks heat up and he ducked his head.

Georg chuckled from across the table and Tom wanted nothing more than to kick him hard. “What he means to say is that it’s his ranch.”

Tom brought his head up, and with a determined gleam, he looked the bartender square in the eye.

“Uh…yeah!”

He was vaguely aware of his friends snorting out a laugh, but their voices seemed muffled and far away as Tom’s gaze locked with the bartender‘s. He shot his hand out, aiming blindly for the container.

He missed.

Instead, his fingers skimmed across the man’s slim wrist. The bartender’s hand twitched, just a little, and before he could think about it, Tom slid his palm over the man’s hand and cupped it around the delicate fingers that held his ranch. For a moment, neither of them let go.

“Um…Tom?”

“Tom!” Gustav nudged his friend, making him jump and suck in his breath, pulling his hand back quickly. Tom shot the blonde a look, and when he looked back, the container was sitting next to his plate, and the bartender was standing with his hands behind his back.

“Is there anything else I can get you?” His voice was softer, breathier than before, and Tom wanted to lean closer to hear him.

“No, I think we’re good. Thanks.” Georg smirked, winking at Tom, whose face burned even hotter.

“Just let me know if you need anything.” Tom watched the bartender incline his head and back away before turning from the table.

“What the hell was that, Tom?” Georg’s cheshire cat grin cranked up Tom’s embarrassment level just a little higher.

He shot Georg a lethal look and reached for the ketchup bottle.

“I have no idea.” Tom screwed the cap off, turned the bottle upside down over his fries, and looked up at the bar, searching for the bartender. He found him on the other end, wiping the bar and talking with an older couple. Tom could only hear the murmurs of their conversation, but whatever they said must have been amusing, because the younger man suddenly burst into laughter.

“He’s just…Jesus, he’s hot.” Tom dragged his eyes away from the man at the bar, only to find that he’d completely doused his fries in a pool of ketchup.

“Aw, fuck…” he moaned, shaking his head. Gustav chuckled and handed him an extra napkin to wipe up the blob of ketchup that had dripped over the side, taking a small fry with it.

“Tom. You’re not gay.” Georg raised an eyebrow at him as he leaned over to swipe a couple fries through Tom’s ketchup.

“Georg,” Tom smacked the brunette’s hand away from his plate, “I don’t have to be gay for him to be hot. Back me up, man.” He nudged Gustav for a second time and reached for his beer.

Gustav searched out the man behind the bar and watched him for a few moments. He looked at Georg and shrugged a shoulder.

“He’s got a point.”

~~~

Bill wiped the damp towel over the same spot of polished wood that he’d been wiping for the last ten minutes and glanced again at his only table of customers. He had to keep an eye on them, right? In case they needed something? It was a good enough excuse for him to openly watch the man that had stolen his breath earlier.

He really should be paying more attention to Helen and Bob. They were two of his most loyal customers, and he didn’t have a whole lot of those yet. But while they lit more cigarettes with wrinkled fingers and droned on about the trials of shift work, Bill found himself lost in his own thoughts.

The dreadlocks had caught his eye first. They were long and tight, various shades of blonde, and were held off the man’s face by a wide grey bandana. Bill had been busy getting their order together and hadn’t noticed much else about the man until he was standing right in front of their table and he’d looked up at Bill.

It was those eyes. The man was softly handsome as it was, but once he’d looked into those eyes, he was sunk. And no matter how Bill told himself that it was silly to be so …electrified by a simple touch, when that gorgeous man had brushed his hand down Bill’s palm, Bill had felt it in his belly.

It didn’t mean anything, though, did it? So what if he took Bill’s breath away? So what if he had stared at Bill with unreadable eyes while his fingers wrapped softly around Bill’s? That didn’t mean the guy was interested. That didn’t mean the guy was gay.

Bill sensed a pause in the conversation at the bar and turned his attention back to Bob and Helen. They had to be past retirement age and neither of them was even close to retiring. Helen’s vibrant red hair was obviously dyed and deep lines marred her flaccid cheeks, but her blue eyes were bright and sparkled as those of a woman just coming of age. Never did they sparkle more than when Bob whispered in her ear, a yellowed grin on his face. They gazed at each other with a new love of forty years in their eyes, and Helen brushed Bob’s thin, white hair from his eyes.

Bill shook out a cigarette from the pack under the bar and lit it with a quick flick of his Zippo. He found the dreadlocked man again through the exhaled smoke of his first drag.

He wanted what Bob and Helen had. He wanted that kind of love and he wasn’t going to find it by being timid. He had to find out more about this guy.

~~~

“I can’t believe that after all that, you used ketchup, instead.” Georg shook his head, grinning and gesturing at the little container still full of ranch dressing. Digging in his back pocket, he pulled out his wallet and threw a few bills on the table.

Tom rolled his eyes and stood up, reaching for his wallet, as well. “Shut up and get your ass out of here.” He tossed Georg‘s money back at him. “You guys are gonna be late. This week is on me.”

Bill watched the men get ready to leave and realized he hadn’t brought them the check. The two bigger men pushed open the heavy door to the outside and a sudden beam of sunlight shot through the pub. Nervousness swirled in his belly like the smoke in the air and he decided it was now or never.

He quickly rang the order up, took a deep breath, and made his way to the table.

“Sir?” The dreadlocked man turned to him with questioning eyes and Bill almost forgot what he wanted to say. Finally he thrust a green and white slip of paper toward the blonde.

Tom looked at it for a moment before taking it from the bartender. It was the bill. His face warmed yet again. It had crossed his mind briefly that maybe this was a phone number, and he’d almost stuffed it in his pocket without looking.

He’d had their whole lunch to recover from the ranch incident, but one word from this beautiful bartender had turned his mouth to cotton and his brain upside-down again. There was no way to be graceful about this, he might as well just jump in with both feet and hope he didn’t sound too much of an idiot.

“Um…yeah, this would be helpful, huh?”

Bill watched the man fish through his wallet with fingers that trembled just slightly. He decided that was a good sign and smiled.

“So…um, I couldn’t help but overhear that your friends are going on vacation?”

Tom smiled back and handed over a couple bills. “Yeah, they’re going to Germany. We’ve tried to go to a new country every year for vacation, but I couldn‘t make it this year.”

“I‘m sorry.” Bill focused on his fingers, manicured nails tracing deep crevices in the table top. His eyes flicked back to the man in front of him. “They seem very close. Are they…together?” he asked, knowing that his gay friends in New York mainly hung out with other gay people. And if the other two were gay, maybe…

Tom chuckled. “You’d think so, the way they bicker, but no. They’re brothers.”

Bill’s smile faltered. That didn’t mean there wasn’t hope yet. There was nothing saying he couldn’t just ask this guy for his number, let him know he’s interested and let the next move be up to the other man.

Before he could ask for his number, though, the dreadlocked man sucked in a breath and peered at his watch.

“Keep the change, okay? I have to go; I have to pick up my girl.”

Disappointment flashed in Bill’s eyes as his hopeful smile fell, only to be quickly replaced by the polite curve of the lips that he gave to every customer. His girl. The guy was not only straight, but taken. That was his dumb luck.

“Thank you, sir. Have a wonderful day.” Bill kept his tone light and even. It had been worth a shot, right? He hadn’t had much opportunity for it to be a good shot, but it didn’t matter anyway. The guy wasn’t available.

Tom backed into the door, pushing it open a crack, keeping his eyes locked with the bartender‘s.

“I will definitely do that, thanks.” He winked, flashed a grin and was out the door, leaving a startled Bill staring after him.

What the hell? He’d winked? Was he flirting?

Bill shook his head and started clearing dishes from the table next to him. He spied the full container of ranch dressing and smiled.

In fact, he smiled the rest of the day.

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