steins_stories | In Desperation, NC17, Tom/Bill

Title: In Desperation
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: Adult Content, twincest
Summary: Bill is a tease. Tom is a mess.
Author's Note: Written for MMoM 2009.

Tom shuffled to his Audi as fast as he could without tripping over his pants. He used both hands to hold the legs up and only let go of them when he reached the door of the sleek car. He thrust his hand deep into his pocket and searched frantically for the key fob with the button that would unlock his new acquisition. His fingers finally closed around the black plastic key-ring, and he stabbed his thumb at the button.

He could barely wait for the snick sound that indicated the doors had unlocked before he yanked the door open and slid himself into the driver’s seat. Wrapping his fingers around the steering wheel, he squeezed until his knuckles turned white and he dropped his head back against the headrest.

He didn’t know how much more of this he could take.

Every time he and Bill had a photo shoot lately, Bill had flirted with him. Hell, his brother had more than flirted with him. There were times when Bill outright rubbed himself against Tom. And while Tom knew that he should put a stop to it, when the photographer told them to stand in certain poses, he knew very well what would happen and he did absolutely nothing to stop it. Not only did he not stop it, not only did he not protest, he found himself waiting for it. His belly would curl and twist, anticipating the moment when Bill would throw him that smile and a sly wink, and then do everything in his power to make Tom exceedingly thankful that he wore the loosest jeans and biggest shirts he could find.

Most every time, Tom would end up running away when the shoot was over; running to the nearest bathroom, running to his car. Once, when they’d had a shoot outside, Tom had even run behind a grove of trees, claiming he had to take a serious leak. Of course, no one followed, and Tom had thrown his back against a tree deep inside the grove, shoved his hand down his pants and rubbed himself feverishly, only pulling his cock out at the end, so as not to make a mess in his pants and be uncomfortable the entire trip home.

Now it had happened again. Bill had rubbed against him, and Tom knew that his brother had felt his erection, hard and hot, in his pants. It seemed to have spurred him on, because next thing Tom knew, Bill had requested they use the battered couch against the wall to pose on. He claimed it would make the pictures more artistic; Tom knew Bill just wanted to make him harder.

The photographer had loved the idea, and Bill had grinned sassily as the man made Georg sit on the arm of the couch and perched Gustav on the back. Bill and Tom had been centered in the middle of the couch, and Bill draped himself over his brother. It was true that Bill was a master showman, and he certainly wouldn’t do anything that would cause any more rumors than were already flying around about the Kaulitz twins. Really, what he proposed was nothing more than what they’d already done in their own internet web cast. How could Tom really protest?

When Bill climbed in Tom’s lap and threw an arm around Tom’s neck, no one blinked or even looked twice. Georg was too busy making sure his hair was perfect and Gustav was staring at the walls, thinking about whatever the hell it was Gustav thought about. The photographer certainly didn’t object; he was too busy counting the potential Euros that he’d make from such a shot.

Tom blinked, though. Tom did more than blink; Tom winced, and the hard-on that was ever present lately when his brother was around grew even harder. Bill grinned down at him and wiggled in his lap, rubbing his ass down onto Tom’s erection and making him gasp for air.

It had been everything Tom could do not to come right there, with everyone around and watching them. He couldn’t even imagine how much the photographer would be able to sell those pictures for, let alone the story of how he’d watched he younger Kaulitz twin rub off his older brother right in front of everyone.

He thought of every horrible image he could conjure up to keep from spurting in his jeans: his grandmother naked, his grandmother naked and having sex with Jost. Shit, he even thought of Jost naked, which he thought would be enough to make him limp for the rest of his life, especially when he pictured the Jost having sex with Georg. Tom may have been ready to throw up in his mouth, but he didn’t get any softer.

Finally, after what seemed an eternity, the shoot was over, and Tom wasted no time in throwing Bill off his lap. As Bill landed on the flat, avocado-colored couch cushion next to him, Tom waddled his way out the door of the studio as quickly as he could.

That was how he ended up where he was now. Knuckles white on the steering wheel, head thrown back, wondering if he was going to make it home, or if he was going to have to pull over somewhere and take care of the insistent throbbing in his jeans.

But the hot pulsing of his cock increased, Tom’s belly twisted, and he knew he wouldn’t make it home without taking care of his problem.

His fingers worked his belt buckle, whipping it open, and he shoved his hand down the front of his pants. A sharp hiss escaped his lips as his fingers bumped his erection and the knuckles skimmed down the hot flesh before those fingers wrapped around it and pumped hard and fast. This was no time for being careful, no time for going slow; Tom needed to come and he needed to come hard. He needed to come now.

His other hand grabbed at the door handle, scrambling to hold himself up when he found he was sliding down on the seat. His knuckles rubbed against the steering wheel with every stroke and he pumped himself harder. The hand on the door handle began to slip with sweat and he held on tighter.

Tom’s toes curled inside his Nikes and he his balls tightened, tendrils of heat snaking out from his groin, spreading to his limbs. He closed his eyes tightly, and he knew it would take a few more strokes; just a few more rough jerks, spreading the clear precome over the sensitive head, and he’d finally get some relief.

A knock on his window startled him, but he was too far gone to stop now. His eyes flew to the identical ones that met his on the other side of the glass.

Bill had one palm pressed against the window, the other hand rubbing his own cock through his black cords, hard enough to make the tabs of his dual zippers bounce with each stroke. His brother threw his head back and bit his lip and that was all that Tom could take.

Tom’s legs straightened hard and his toes pointed. His head fell back even further, his eyes never leaving his brother once, and his mouth fell open to release an aching groan. He squeezed the tip of his cock, and hot come shot out in thick spurts, soaking through his boxers and leaving wet spots on the outside of his jeans.

His limbs felt like jelly and as he relaxed down, curving his body to the contours of the driver’s seat, he glanced down at mess on the hand he pulled out of his jeans. When he looked back up, his brother was gone.

The only proof that Bill had been there was the come in Tom’s jeans and the handprint on the window.