Out of Control, NC17, Tom/Bill
May. 4th, 2009 04:45 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
steins_storiesTitle: Out of Control
Author:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
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: Tom's mess sparks Bill's own desperation.
Author's Note: Written for MMoM 2009. Sequel to In Desperation
Thank you so much toma_chelle for the wonderful beta. :)
Bill planted his hand against the window of Tom’s car and roughly palmed the erection trapped by his tight slacks. Every little puff of breath from his parted lips slightly fogged the chilly glass beneath his palm, and Bill was glad that it cleared up right away, because he couldn’t take his eyes off his brother now.
Tom had shut himself in his low-slung sports car, and was sunk down in the driver’s seat. His head was tipped back against the headrest and one hand gripped the door handle, but what made Bill’s heart skitter was that Tom had his other hand thrust into his baggy jeans. The way his brother’s hand moved inside the denim, they way his eyes were shut so tight and his mouth hung open, left no doubt as to what Tom was doing, and Bill’s dick had grown even harder with the realization.
He rapped on the window; just two quick knocks, before he recognized the impulse to do it. Bill didn’t have time to wince at the consequences, though, as Tom’s eyes flew open and locked with his.
It wasn’t like time stood still. It wasn’t like that at all, but everything slowed down, each contraction of his heart thundered in his ears and Bill held his breath from the moment Tom looked at him until his brother threw his head back further and his face contorted in orgasm. Bill’s dick twitched as his fingers tightened around it, and he wanted to come. God, how he wanted to come, but fear grabbed him. Not here. Not now, standing outside Tom’s car, where anyone could see.
And so as soon as Tom looked away, Bill ran. He ran to his own Audi and jumped in, wincing hard and hissing as the fabric of his pants bunched up, pinching his hard cock in the folds. He palmed himself hard, adjusting with one hand even as he spun the wheel with the other and stepped on the accelerator, peeling out of the driveway of the photographer’s studio.
The drive home wasn’t long, but it gave Bill’s racing mind plenty of time to think. It wasn’t something he did a lot of when it came to how he behaved with Tom, grinding and rubbing on him until he could feel Tom‘s hot erection against him. He didn’t think of it at all until it was over, because it was never anything he planned and it never seemed to be anything he could stop. It was like a constant, aching itch that he just couldn’t scratch. There was just something about seeing that look on Tom’s face, the mix of need and confusion, and he would look in Bill’s eyes with such lust that it had Bill’s blood screaming to his groin. Then his brother’s face would flush and he’d squirm and not be able to meet Bill’s eyes at all.
Bill almost missed his turn, and he had to push hard on the brake pedal to slow down enough to make it. Their house was in sight, and his palms began to sweat.
It was a total power trip, and knowing that he had that effect on his brother, one of the few people that he shouldn’t have that effect on at all, meant that Bill could have anyone. Anyone. Yet the more he’d teased Tom the more the only one he wanted was Tom. Which meant that lately, the roommate of Bill’s power trip was Bill’s guilt trip. Hand in hand, they played with Bill; one on each shoulder, like the cherub and the plump red demon, and his emotions wavered back and forth with their whisperings in his ears. Because none of this was fair to his brother. It wasn’t fair for Bill to tease him, to play with his emotions and for all Bill knew, this need he had, this fucking desire he had to make his brother need him and want him as much as Bill could finally admit to himself that he wanted Tom, could be hurting Tom. And that was something he never wanted to do.
He was out of control, and it had to stop. He knew it had to stop. This was the last time; he swore to himself that this was the last time.
Bill mashed the button on the control attached to his visor, and the gate to their estate swung open, another button stab ordering it closed. He accelerated to the front door much faster than he meant to, and he stopped hard and slammed the car into ‘park’.
He didn’t remember getting out of the car and running into the house, obviously stopping long enough to unlock the door, because all he could see was the dark green carpet under his boots as he flew up the stairs to his room. He pulled his jacket off on the way, slipping his arms out behind him and shaking his shoulders until the leather slid down his arms and fell to the floor. Bill left it where it lay and caught the hem of his tee shirt with one hand, throwing his door open with the other, tossing it closed behind him.
As soon as his tee shirt hit the floor and he’d sat on the bed and ripped his boots off, tossing them one way, then the next, he scrambled to the middle of his bed. It was big; it had to be, considering how tall Bill was and how much he moved around in his sleep, and Bill could roll from one side to the other at least four times. He knew this because he’d done it, grinning and luxuriating in all the room. Now he could give a shit; he just needed to be horizontal and he needed to get off. He propped his head against the headboard and all but ripped the clasp of his slacks off, he pulled it open so hard.
Bill lifted his hips, pushing his slacks down them and over his ass until they bunched around this thighs. Sliding his palms up the front of his thighs, he cupped his balls with one hand, rolling them between his fingers, and his toes curled hard in anticipation. He wrapped slender fingers around his aching cock, and his dick felt so hot and his hand so cool that he hissed and closed his eyes.
Then Bill began to stroke. He squeezed his fingers tight as he skimmed over the head on the upstroke, and slicked his thumb over his slit on the down stroke, and his hips began a gentle thrust. It was a rhythm Bill had worked out long ago, after long nights in the blackness of their bedroom, nights in which Bill had spent sweating and holding his breath, chasing orgasm after pubescent orgasm while Tom slept in the bed next to his. It took a little bit of concentration, but it was the rhythm that made Bill come the quickest, and made Bill come the hardest, and it wasn’t long before Bill felt that familiar liquid fire begin to run from his groin, trickling toward his limbs more with each pump of his fist.
He didn’t hear the door swing open, didn’t feel the movement of the air around him. Everything Bill felt was pulsing beneath his fingers and moving behind his eyes; pictures of Tom’s eyes meeting his, of Tom’s tongue coming out to wet his lips right before his body tensed and his brother shot his load in his pants. This time, just this time, Bill didn’t feel his brother’s presence in the room without seeing him.
Bill didn’t feel his brother standing next to his bed, watching him. He didn’t feel the struggle that had Tom arguing with himself, making him ready to flee, but making him so ready to stay. And he didn’t feel Tom’s steel resolve when he’d finally made up his mind.
What Bill felt was the dip of the bed, and before his eyes could even open and focus, before his palm stuttered on his dick, his brother was next to him. Tom laid down next to him and covered the hand over Bill’s cock with his own warm fingers, squeezing it to a stop for just a moment.
Bill questioned him with startled eyes, asking everything he was afraid to say, and Tom looked down at Bill with a calmness that said everything Bill never thought he’d hear. He licked his lips and clutched the front of Tom’s shirt in his fist, pulling his brother to him, his lips wet and open and waiting. His brother smelled like leather and cigarettes and come, and Bill gasped at the first brush of their lips, soft against each other, before Tom batted Bill’s hand away from his cock and began to stroke him hard.
Bill’s head pushed back against the headboard, and when he couldn’t push back further, he dropped his head to the side, resting it on Tom’s shoulder. He thrust into his brother’s fist and his mouth fell open, only to be held closed again by his teeth sinking into the swollen flesh of his bottom lip.
He panted in Tom's ear as his legs tensed, the muscles straining, hard and quivering. His belly clenched with the rhythm of Tom's hand while the tendrils of fire that licked inside him turned to white hot, flooding every part of him. The groan grew from deep within is chest, answered by the whimpers of the man above him, and Bill came.
He came harder than he remembered ever coming, shooting up his chest and into his hair and onto his pillow, and all over Tom’s hand, and he thought that there might be nothing in the world that felt as good as that did then.
In the haze of his come-down, Bill couldn’t find the energy to be tense. And then he didn’t see the need to worry about where they would go from here. Because Tom didn’t run away, he didn’t go still and stiff and shift away from Bill with odd eyes, wiping his hand on his jeans like he’d gotten something dirty on them.
Tom stayed, and he smiled at Bill as he took off his shirt to clean them both up. And as Tom dabbed at the come in Bill’s hair, Bill started to laugh. He nuzzled his nose into Tom’s neck, knowing full well his brother was ticklish, and Tom snorted, pushing Bill back, before grabbing the extra blanket from the bottom of the bed and wrapping it around them.
As the sun went down outside their windows, the shadows grew around them, and the room dimmed, Bill lay smiling, his cheek on Tom’s chest, and his brother’s heartbeat thundering in his ear. He closed his eyes, and breathing deeply in sync with Tom’s breath, he realized that for the first time since he could remember, the itch was gone.
Author:
steinsgrrlFandom: 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: Tom's mess sparks Bill's own desperation.
Author's Note: Written for MMoM 2009. Sequel to In Desperation
Thank you so much to
ma_chelle for the wonderful beta. :)Bill planted his hand against the window of Tom’s car and roughly palmed the erection trapped by his tight slacks. Every little puff of breath from his parted lips slightly fogged the chilly glass beneath his palm, and Bill was glad that it cleared up right away, because he couldn’t take his eyes off his brother now.
Tom had shut himself in his low-slung sports car, and was sunk down in the driver’s seat. His head was tipped back against the headrest and one hand gripped the door handle, but what made Bill’s heart skitter was that Tom had his other hand thrust into his baggy jeans. The way his brother’s hand moved inside the denim, they way his eyes were shut so tight and his mouth hung open, left no doubt as to what Tom was doing, and Bill’s dick had grown even harder with the realization.
He rapped on the window; just two quick knocks, before he recognized the impulse to do it. Bill didn’t have time to wince at the consequences, though, as Tom’s eyes flew open and locked with his.
It wasn’t like time stood still. It wasn’t like that at all, but everything slowed down, each contraction of his heart thundered in his ears and Bill held his breath from the moment Tom looked at him until his brother threw his head back further and his face contorted in orgasm. Bill’s dick twitched as his fingers tightened around it, and he wanted to come. God, how he wanted to come, but fear grabbed him. Not here. Not now, standing outside Tom’s car, where anyone could see.
And so as soon as Tom looked away, Bill ran. He ran to his own Audi and jumped in, wincing hard and hissing as the fabric of his pants bunched up, pinching his hard cock in the folds. He palmed himself hard, adjusting with one hand even as he spun the wheel with the other and stepped on the accelerator, peeling out of the driveway of the photographer’s studio.
The drive home wasn’t long, but it gave Bill’s racing mind plenty of time to think. It wasn’t something he did a lot of when it came to how he behaved with Tom, grinding and rubbing on him until he could feel Tom‘s hot erection against him. He didn’t think of it at all until it was over, because it was never anything he planned and it never seemed to be anything he could stop. It was like a constant, aching itch that he just couldn’t scratch. There was just something about seeing that look on Tom’s face, the mix of need and confusion, and he would look in Bill’s eyes with such lust that it had Bill’s blood screaming to his groin. Then his brother’s face would flush and he’d squirm and not be able to meet Bill’s eyes at all.
Bill almost missed his turn, and he had to push hard on the brake pedal to slow down enough to make it. Their house was in sight, and his palms began to sweat.
It was a total power trip, and knowing that he had that effect on his brother, one of the few people that he shouldn’t have that effect on at all, meant that Bill could have anyone. Anyone. Yet the more he’d teased Tom the more the only one he wanted was Tom. Which meant that lately, the roommate of Bill’s power trip was Bill’s guilt trip. Hand in hand, they played with Bill; one on each shoulder, like the cherub and the plump red demon, and his emotions wavered back and forth with their whisperings in his ears. Because none of this was fair to his brother. It wasn’t fair for Bill to tease him, to play with his emotions and for all Bill knew, this need he had, this fucking desire he had to make his brother need him and want him as much as Bill could finally admit to himself that he wanted Tom, could be hurting Tom. And that was something he never wanted to do.
He was out of control, and it had to stop. He knew it had to stop. This was the last time; he swore to himself that this was the last time.
Bill mashed the button on the control attached to his visor, and the gate to their estate swung open, another button stab ordering it closed. He accelerated to the front door much faster than he meant to, and he stopped hard and slammed the car into ‘park’.
He didn’t remember getting out of the car and running into the house, obviously stopping long enough to unlock the door, because all he could see was the dark green carpet under his boots as he flew up the stairs to his room. He pulled his jacket off on the way, slipping his arms out behind him and shaking his shoulders until the leather slid down his arms and fell to the floor. Bill left it where it lay and caught the hem of his tee shirt with one hand, throwing his door open with the other, tossing it closed behind him.
As soon as his tee shirt hit the floor and he’d sat on the bed and ripped his boots off, tossing them one way, then the next, he scrambled to the middle of his bed. It was big; it had to be, considering how tall Bill was and how much he moved around in his sleep, and Bill could roll from one side to the other at least four times. He knew this because he’d done it, grinning and luxuriating in all the room. Now he could give a shit; he just needed to be horizontal and he needed to get off. He propped his head against the headboard and all but ripped the clasp of his slacks off, he pulled it open so hard.
Bill lifted his hips, pushing his slacks down them and over his ass until they bunched around this thighs. Sliding his palms up the front of his thighs, he cupped his balls with one hand, rolling them between his fingers, and his toes curled hard in anticipation. He wrapped slender fingers around his aching cock, and his dick felt so hot and his hand so cool that he hissed and closed his eyes.
Then Bill began to stroke. He squeezed his fingers tight as he skimmed over the head on the upstroke, and slicked his thumb over his slit on the down stroke, and his hips began a gentle thrust. It was a rhythm Bill had worked out long ago, after long nights in the blackness of their bedroom, nights in which Bill had spent sweating and holding his breath, chasing orgasm after pubescent orgasm while Tom slept in the bed next to his. It took a little bit of concentration, but it was the rhythm that made Bill come the quickest, and made Bill come the hardest, and it wasn’t long before Bill felt that familiar liquid fire begin to run from his groin, trickling toward his limbs more with each pump of his fist.
He didn’t hear the door swing open, didn’t feel the movement of the air around him. Everything Bill felt was pulsing beneath his fingers and moving behind his eyes; pictures of Tom’s eyes meeting his, of Tom’s tongue coming out to wet his lips right before his body tensed and his brother shot his load in his pants. This time, just this time, Bill didn’t feel his brother’s presence in the room without seeing him.
Bill didn’t feel his brother standing next to his bed, watching him. He didn’t feel the struggle that had Tom arguing with himself, making him ready to flee, but making him so ready to stay. And he didn’t feel Tom’s steel resolve when he’d finally made up his mind.
What Bill felt was the dip of the bed, and before his eyes could even open and focus, before his palm stuttered on his dick, his brother was next to him. Tom laid down next to him and covered the hand over Bill’s cock with his own warm fingers, squeezing it to a stop for just a moment.
Bill questioned him with startled eyes, asking everything he was afraid to say, and Tom looked down at Bill with a calmness that said everything Bill never thought he’d hear. He licked his lips and clutched the front of Tom’s shirt in his fist, pulling his brother to him, his lips wet and open and waiting. His brother smelled like leather and cigarettes and come, and Bill gasped at the first brush of their lips, soft against each other, before Tom batted Bill’s hand away from his cock and began to stroke him hard.
Bill’s head pushed back against the headboard, and when he couldn’t push back further, he dropped his head to the side, resting it on Tom’s shoulder. He thrust into his brother’s fist and his mouth fell open, only to be held closed again by his teeth sinking into the swollen flesh of his bottom lip.
He panted in Tom's ear as his legs tensed, the muscles straining, hard and quivering. His belly clenched with the rhythm of Tom's hand while the tendrils of fire that licked inside him turned to white hot, flooding every part of him. The groan grew from deep within is chest, answered by the whimpers of the man above him, and Bill came.
He came harder than he remembered ever coming, shooting up his chest and into his hair and onto his pillow, and all over Tom’s hand, and he thought that there might be nothing in the world that felt as good as that did then.
In the haze of his come-down, Bill couldn’t find the energy to be tense. And then he didn’t see the need to worry about where they would go from here. Because Tom didn’t run away, he didn’t go still and stiff and shift away from Bill with odd eyes, wiping his hand on his jeans like he’d gotten something dirty on them.
Tom stayed, and he smiled at Bill as he took off his shirt to clean them both up. And as Tom dabbed at the come in Bill’s hair, Bill started to laugh. He nuzzled his nose into Tom’s neck, knowing full well his brother was ticklish, and Tom snorted, pushing Bill back, before grabbing the extra blanket from the bottom of the bed and wrapping it around them.
As the sun went down outside their windows, the shadows grew around them, and the room dimmed, Bill lay smiling, his cheek on Tom’s chest, and his brother’s heartbeat thundering in his ear. He closed his eyes, and breathing deeply in sync with Tom’s breath, he realized that for the first time since he could remember, the itch was gone.
