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Title: Working It Out
Author: [livejournal.com profile] steinsgrrl
Fandom: Tokio Hotel (RPS)
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: Adult Content, Twincest
Summary: Tom is tempting and Bill can't take it.
Author's Note: Just something short for [livejournal.com profile] mmom, day 2. Thanks to my husband for the pre-read and to my beta, [livejournal.com profile] ma_chelle for the quick turn around and all her support. ♥


Five seconds after Tom closed the door, Bill bounded up the steps to his bedroom, dogs barking and circling his feet. He shooed them away and threw his door open, pushing the puppies back just far enough to shut the door. They yipped and scratched at it, not used to being locked out, but Bill ignored it. Right now, he had other things on his mind.

Tom had been driving him absolutely out of his mind lately and today had been the final straw.

They had a tour coming up, and Tom and Georg had decided they needed to get into shape for it. They’d hired a private fitness coach to put them through a rigorous daily workout, and they both spent two hours a day sweating and panting and defining muscle groups that Bill hadn’t even known existed.

He knew now. He could see them each time Tom came into the kitchen after his workout, wiping his damp face with his shirt, his pants hanging low. Just the sight of his brother like that, still breathless and flushed in the face, set the blood rushing hard to Bill’s cock.

And then today, Tom had come into the kitchen for a bottle of water, laughing at something Georg had said, or maybe just laughing at Georg, period. Bill didn’t know and didn’t care. All he knew was that Tom looked good. No, strike that; Tom looked scrumptious. Bill tried not to just blatantly stare so he pretended to look at the latest GQ, all the while gazing at Tom from beneath his thick, bare lashes.

Tom had a leftover tan from their Maldives vacation, and each tiny, crystalline bead of sweat glinted against it. His shoulders and arms were toned to the point of buff, and watching the muscles bunch as Tom lifted his arm for a long swig of water made Bill want to adjust his sweatpants.

And then Tom tipped the water too far and it escaped the sides of his mouth, running in rivulets down his neck and over his chest and Bill struggled not to choke on his own drool. He whimpered, to his horror, and Tom glanced at him as he put his water back in the fridge.

“What’s wrong with you?”

Bill feigned surprise. “What are you talking about?”

“Didn’t you make a noise?” Tom asked from the kitchen doorway.

“Nope,” Bill said lightly. “Must have been one of the dogs.”

Tom looked at him strangely and Bill tried not to cringe when he realized the dogs weren’t even in the kitchen. Tom shrugged. “Yeah, okay. Anyway, I’m going outside with Georg to check out his new car. Coming?”

“Nah.” Bill waved a hand and turned the page of his magazine. “I’m going to shower.”

“Okay,” Tom said. “But don’t use all the hot water. I’ll want one when I come back in.”

And that was it. Those were the words that made Bill picture Tom in the shower, and that’s what had Bill running for his room the moment his brother stepped outside their door. The dogs came running from the living room and Bill had nearly tripped on them in his desperate flight up the stairs, but it didn’t matter; he needed this now.

Bill bee-lined for the bed and threw himself on it, tossing most of the pillows to the floor and stuffing the remaining behind his back, before yanking his sweatpants down to his knees. There was no need to drag this out. He’d had enough foreplay already, just watching Tom downstairs, so he grasped his cock firmly, where it lay hard and wet-tipped against his stomach.

He gasped at the contact and let his head fall back, his mouth falling open as he squeezed himself, before letting his cock fall with a slap against heated skin. With a flat hand, he pulled the moisture from the tip, smearing it down his length, before curling his fingers over his balls, just grazing his fingertips below them.

Bill ran his tongue over his dry lips, picturing his brother in the kitchen, remembering how he’d looked with his sweatpants hanging so low that just the slightest tug would pull them off. He groaned and brought his hand around his dick again, tugging jerkily, frantically, and bent his knees, planting his feet on the bed.

He could see Tom between his legs, one hand on Bill’s thigh, the other jerking himself right along with Bill. Bill screwed his eyes closed and clamped his other hand over his own thigh, breathing hard and fast and stroking even faster.

But then that wouldn’t be enough for Tom. No, he’d need to be inside Bill. His eyes would be dark and heavy and he’d ask so sweetly…no, Bill thought, squeezing the tip of his erection and whimpering, he wouldn’t ask, he’d just take him. He’d lift Bill’s legs up to his chest, lube him up nice and slick and take him. Bill tossed his head and brought his knees up like he’d imagined Tom doing, his body open and waiting.

The muscles in Bill’s arms began to burn as he stroked himself but that barely registered; the only thing he could think of, the only thing he could see, was Tom above him, plunging into him and he groaned loudly. Arching his back, Bill scrabbled at the duvet before plunging two fingers between his lips and sucking desperately. Quickly, he slid his hand down his body and pressed wet fingers against the hot opening below his balls. Bill whined in his throat and pressed harder, pushing inside himself in tandem with the jerking of his dick, pushing inside him like he knew Tom would do.

He stroked himself long and hard, inside and out, his breath ragged and rare and he knew it wouldn’t be long now. And he wanted it! He wanted that release, that ecstasy, coming hard over his hand and around his fingers that weren’t his fingers but his brother’s hard cock that hit his spot just right with every thrust.

And just that thought alone sent him right over the edge. With a loud cry of Tom's name, his knees hit his shoulders as his belly strained and his hips thrust up onto his plunging fingers, his body pulsing around them, and quick lines of milky come squirted over his hand and the quivering skin of his stomach.

Bill stayed curled up on himself, just giving himself a minute for his breath to even out, before carefully pulling his fingers out and relaxing his legs down to the bed. He needed tissues.

Furrowing his brow, he tried to remember if he’d replaced the box that he usually kept in his headboard. He blinked his eyes open slowly, sitting up to turn and look for the box when he realized his door was open.

He had company.

Bill froze and held his breath.

“I kenneled the dogs,” Tom said, his eyes glittering and dark as he looked Bill up and down. “Maybe it’s time for that shower now.”

And with his tongue licking slowly at his lip ring, Tom turned and closed the door behind him.

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