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Sock Syndrome	By : Rina76 Category: Singers/Bands/Musicians > Tokio Hotel Views: 2480 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not know Bill and Tom Kaulitz, or any members of Tokio Hotel. I do not know Adam Lambert. I am not making any money from the writing of this story. None of the following actually happened.

Chapter List
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TITLE: Sock Syndrome
AUTHOR: Schwaerze and Rina76
GENRE: Twincest
RATING: M at first then most likely NC-17
PAIRINGS: Tom/Bill, Bill/Adam Lambert
SUMMARY: You know when you're searching for that second sock to make up a pair and you can't find it? Even when you're looking in the sock drawer and it's right in front of you but for some reason you can't see it in amongst all the other socks? That's a form of male domestic blindness called Sock Syndrome. And that's what Tom has. Only replace the missing sock with Bill. Get the picture?

Tom is too busy trying to find the perfect chick to realise that what he really needs is his brother. Bill decides to show him that. By hooking up with Adam Lambert!

DISCLAIMER: I do not know Bill and Tom Kaulitz, or any members of Tokio Hotel. I do not know Adam Lambert. I am not making any money from the writing of this story. None of the following actually happened. It is merely fanfiction, purely all made up for your entertainment.

………

Chapter 1.

They didn’t win any awards tonight. Tom had a gut feeling they wouldn’t, but then he always thought the worst. That way, he couldn’t be disappointed when they lost. But he secretly was still, a little. Idiots. What the fuck did they know about music? Bill had scolded him, told him to stop acting bitchy and pissed off and just enjoy the party so after a bit of sulking and grumbling, that’s what Tom was attempting to do.

His baggy-clothed figure sprawled indolently on a leather couch, the older twin absently swirled the champagne around the fragile-feeling glass flute held in his strong, calloused fingers. The tall, stemmed goblet was so narrow and thin he felt like it’d break in his hand if he gripped too hard. Trying not to do that - because he didn’t want blood on his expensive white T-shirt - he gingerly lifted the flute to his mouth and sipped at the bubbling golden fluid inside, licking it off his pierced lip and grimacing at the sour taste. Champagne wasn’t his favourite liquor of choice but shit, it wasn’t like he paid for it. If they’re handing it out, he’ll drink it, even if it did taste like vinegar. It’ll still get him drunk and he really felt like getting drunk now, especially since they didn’t have any new shiny trophies to take home and boast about.

Fuckers.

Oh, well. Maybe he could land himself a different type of trophy...

“Where the hell are you, future Mrs Kaulitz?” Tom murmured to himself, scanning the packed, smoky room with slightly squinted eyes for potential wife-material. Or at least someone to bang into the mattress until his awful, aching loneliness went away. With his popularity, smokin’ looks and cool charm, why was it so damn hard to find a girl?

Actually, getting girls wasn’t his problem. It was getting girls who didn’t have a screw loose. That was the problem. The tricky thing was, you couldn’t tell which ones were freaks or stalkers just by looking at them.

Not that he’d ever stop looking. God, no. Besides the free drinks, looking at women was half the fun of coming to these music awards after-parties.

So many choices. Blondes, brunettes, redheads. Long, short, spiked. Platinum, black, copper. Silver, white, gold. Even multicolours, a rock chick with lime-green streaks in her shoulder-length yellow hair catching his eye for a moment. Cute face. Nice tight jeans. Awesome ass. She glanced his way, looked him up and down, and then smiled at him with cherry-red lips.

Inwardly smirking at his own irresistibility, Tom grinned and raised a cheeky eyebrow to the girl in greeting and then threw his dark, braided head back, chugging down the rest of his champagne and feeling the exhilarating flush of alcohol hit his stomach.

“Hey, Bill.” Not taking his eyes off the girl in the jeans, Tom distractedly shoved the empty glass flute towards his younger brother, who was sitting next to him on the couch. “Do me a favour and get me another drink.”

Bill just wordlessly stared at the wet glass in his hand and then slowly after his brother. His mood turned a notch more sour, which was basically expressed by his brow slowly stretching up, his gaze becoming peeved. He wasn´t his brother´s lackey, seriously, but sometimes Tom seemed to forget that and just because he was a lousy few seconds older didn´t make him the boss of the two-

Inwardly shaking his head, Bill sighed and let the glass tiredly dangle between his thin, leather clad legs, reprimanding himself to not be such a diva. So he was frustrated that they hadn´t won anything and he was disappointed as well, because they had been spoiled with awards so far and now not getting one that he had been sure they´d get was even more sobering. But that wasn´t Tom´s fault. He probably just needed to take a piss, and Bill´s glass was empty anyway, so it was simply a matter of logic and efficiency that Bill get them something to drink.

He got up from the sofa and went to the bar, smiling and nodding at other musicians (he didn´t know half of them). It was times like these, when he had to push himself through a drunk crowd, that he regretted not being as well built and strong as Tom. Usually people just made place for him, because his outfit made him to be easily seen and avoided, but here everyone was kind of flashy and special and totally wasted... Bill wondered how the hell he was supposed to get back with the two full glasses and his constant smile turned even more forced and weary.

He was getting tired of this party; they hadn´t won anything so there was nothing to celebrate and they hadn´t gotten much sleep the other night either, since they had been filming the new video clip for their next single. Naturally they all were exhausted. Maybe he should just ask Tom if they shouldn´t leave. Instead of sitting here and being bored, listening to shitty music and watching other people have fun and boast about their awards (which weren´t even that special, by the way, it wasn´t like it was the VMA or anything) they could go back to the hotel. Maybe raid the minibar, talk about the shitty bands that had won the awards, tattle about their awful stage shows and outfits and just feel better about it all. Maybe Tom´d let him sleep in his bed again; they could cuddle a bit.

At the thought, Bill´s cheeks blossomed in a faint rosy colour, but since he´d finally made it to the bar he got distracted and quickly ordered two glasses of champagne. The bartender looked at him sceptically, estimating if Bill looked enough about 21 to get alcohol, but then just handed him two glasses. The younger twin didn´t feel like smiling anymore and just took them, making his way back through the mass of people. A few elbows hit him in the ribs and his feet were killing him because people just trampled over them, but eventually he made it back to their seats.

Tom didn’t even thank Bill for the champagne when it was presented to him, just took it and gulped it down, too busy eyeing the hot little chick with the tight jeans and green hair. She was watching him back with equal awareness, displaying all the flirting signals that Tom was used to looking out for – the coy glances away, the hair flicking, small smiles, toying with her straw. All classic signs of attraction. He didn’t know if she understood who he was, or knew what band he was from, but it was clear that he had her interest. Even though she was chatting with someone else, her eyes kept straying over to Tom and he knew without even talking to her that he was getting laid tonight.

Oh yeah, he congratulated himself with much male satisfaction. It was good to be such a handsome bastard.

He abstractedly tongued the titanium ring impaled through his lip, imagining how he was going to tongue her later on. Chicks loved his piercing and over the years he’d discovered quite a few useful little tricks he could do with it. A flash of glitter twinkled in his peripheral vision, momentarily distracting him from the girl. The enormous room that the awards were held in was packed full of people, movement and noise, shifting coloured lights shining down from the high domed ceiling and reflecting off many metallic objects – earrings, bracelets, studded belts and sequinned skirts - but Tom tracked the glittering to one particular individual. About twenty yards away to Tom’s right stood a flamboyant male figure, part of a group of five. He was laughing and talking excitedly to his friends, all of them wearing thick makeup and outlandish glam-rock costumes covered in studs, chains and other assorted sparkly accessories. But the dark-haired guy in the middle was the sparkliest of the lot, looking like he’d gotten caught in a glitter-shower without an umbrella on his way over to the awards. His suit sparkled, his hair sparkled and every inch of his skin sparkled. If Tom didn’t know better he’d swear there was a Twilight vampire in the room. But this guy wasn’t a vampire. Just a singer. The dude’s black hair was cut in a very similar style to Bill’s, trimmed very short on the sides and longer on the top, only it wasn’t spiked up into an impressive Mohawk, just sculpted into some kind of smooth, gleaming coiffure, dusted with blue glitter. There were even rhinestones glued onto his temples, beside his heavily-shadowed blue-grey eyes.

“Oh great, Adam Lambert’s here,” Tom drawled in distaste, narrowing his gaze at the other man. Adam glanced over their way, caught Tom’s glare and quickly looked away, the former Idol contestant no doubt realising how unpopular he was with the Kaulitz twins. Tom hated that guy. Not his music or his looks or his sexual orientation. None of that. Tom just hated the way Adam gushed about Bill, repeatedly telling interviewers how ‘pretty’ he was and hinting how he’d love to go on a date with Bill. Or go shopping.

Shopping. Sure. Tom was no idiot. He could read between the lines and see what Adam was really saying.

“I can’t stand the way he talks about you, Bill,” Tom muttered, turning to his thinner brother. “You know he wants to fuck you, right? I swear, if he even looks at you tonight, I’m punching his face in.”

Bill just sipped at his champagne, avoiding to directly look into Adam´s direction, but watching them from the corner of his eye. They seemed to have fun, at least... But Tom going all big brother and overprotective made his belly flip, in a good way.

To Tom he said with an arched brow, inspecting his nails, voice teasing, "You sound like a jealous wife, you know. People will think you googled too many twincest fics about us."

Tom just stared at his brother. Eventually, he objected, “Not funny, Bill. You know reading that shit makes me sick. The things they make us do...God.”

The two of them fucking each other, Bill getting pregnant to him and giving birth to his baby, Tom shoving giant dildos up his own ass...He winced at the idea of all three, draining the remainder of his champagne and swishing it around like Listerine, trying to get rid of the sudden bad taste in his mouth.

At Bill’s questioning look, he set his empty flute aside, swallowed with a grimace and said, “Don’t even ask. You gonna drink the rest of that?”

Without waiting for a reply, Tom snatched up the half-full glass in his brother’s hand and finished it off, finally drunk enough to not give a shit about losing an award to some other crappy band he’d never even heard of.

“This party sucks. I’m gonna go make my own fun,” he announced, getting up off the couch and readjusting first his saggy crotch, then the white bandanna tied around his head, sparing Bill one last glance. “Go find Georg and Gustav, okay? I’ll catch up with you guys later.”

Bill might have replied in a mumble but Tom wasn’t really listening to his brother, instead keen to find the green-haired girl before he lost her to someone else.

As he headed in her direction, Tom made sure he sauntered past the group Adam Lambert was part of, just so he could glare long and hard at the guy, wordlessly warning him to stay away from Bill. The glamorously handsome American singer was surrounded by a throng of fawning male and female admirers, all of them practically licking his well-heeled boots with lust. Adam could have any one of them he chose as a ‘date’. He didn’t need Bill. Bill wasn’t his to have. The only way he would get to have Bill was over Tom’s dead body.

Adam stared back as he passed, his grey eyes widening, appearing slightly scared of the older Kaulitz twin and his scowling, dark intensity.

Good, Tom thought with aggressive satisfaction. The guy should be scared. Nobody touched his little brother without permission. Now that Adam knew that, Tom tore his gaze away from the other intimidated man, targeted on another mission, the braided boy scanning the bustling crowd for streaks of green hair and cherry red lips.

There she was. Tight little jeans, even tighter little body. His heart skipped a beat. She saw him too, whispering something to her male friend to make him leave, making herself free for Tom’s approach. He walked casually up to her, acting cool and smooth, something that came naturally to him. She was tiny and very cute. He nodded down at her, his eyelids lowered to half-mast.

“Hey. I’m Tom,” he began, sticking out his hand. “Tom-”

“Kaulitz. I know.” Her eyes were bright green, same as her hair. Probably contact lenses. She smiled and accepted his greeting gesture, her fingers clasping his for a moment.

“Sorry you didn’t win anything.”

He stuck his hands in his jacket pockets and shrugged, like it was no big deal. Even though it kinda was.

Without any further small-talk, she stepped up to him, invitingly laying her hand on his chest. “Want me to make you feel better, baby?”

Tom’s thick brown eyebrows disappeared beneath his bandanna. Whoa, talk about bold! But he liked that. In fact, her boldness was quite the turn-on. Most girls went all giggly and incoherent around him, hardly able to string three words together, apart from, “You’re so hot,” or “I like your hair,” so it was a refreshing change to meet one who wasn’t affected by his fame, somebody confident and sexy who knew what she wanted.

His dick, apparently. Not that he was complaining. His jeans would have tightened, if they weren’t so loose and baggy around his hips.

Wasting no more time, Tom inclined his head at her, indicating for the young lady to follow him. She did. Cutting through the crowd, Tom took her into a dark corner where he hoped Bill couldn’t see him. Bill never objected when Tom wanted to make out with a girl but Tom always felt uncomfortable doing it when his brother was within watching distance. Secure that he was hidden enough, Tom turned to her and covered the girl’s mouth with his own, tasting cherry lip gloss. He didn’t know her name, didn’t know anything about her. All he knew was that he wanted her and she seemed to want him back. Having her feminine body pressed willingly against his made Tom forget all his depressing thoughts, leaving him feeling like the king of the universe, like the seducing satyr he often portrayed himself to be. He pulled his new companion closer, shoving in his tongue. Slinging her arms around his neck, she allowed him to kiss her, not even objecting when Tom grabbed her ass with one hand and shoved the other up her top, pulling a bra cup aside to get at the soft goodies underneath. Even though the girl was petite, she had a large, firm pair of tits and Tom palmed one of them, feeling her nipple tighten under his clumsily given caress, the twenty one year old guitarist forgetting where he was and who he was ignoring.

Bill sat alone on his couch, without his hard earned champagne, without company and no fun at all, and dark storm clouds were swirling above his head. He was aware that Tom had given his best to be 'discreet' about his new conquest, as discreet as Tom could be. Which wasn´t discreet at all! But aside from that very irritating sight of his brother shamelessly groping that slut practically in public it was even more annoying that Tom thought he had to 'spare' Bill the sight (which he failed spectacularly at anyways). It did irk Bill to see Tom like that, he hated it, and maybe he was bitching about it sometimes, but still, he wasn´t some little kid! He didn´t need to be 'spared' from anything, and that patronizing way of Tom´s was getting on his nerves now (where, at other times admittedly, it made him feel very cared for and fuzzy).

Huffing, Bill glared at the blond bombshell his brother was feeling up (ignoring the strange little stabs the sight caused his heart), and then demonstratively searched the room for some fun of his own. Because he most definitely wouldn´t sit here all by himself all night long like a loser, and he didn´t want to go to his hotel room yet either! He was Bill Kaulitz, loved and worshipped by millions!

Unfortunately everyone else in the room was famous too, partly even more so than he was, which made the great Bill Kaulitz quite mediocre. But he didn´t want to think about it now, he wanted to have fun-

The heavy weight of a not so secretive gaze was boring into his temple, and Bill turned his head, tracing it back. That Adam guy quickly looked away, pretending that he hadn´t looked at all, but he was not fast enough. Bill was quite tempted to ignore it and go sit somewhere else. Then he hesitated. Why was he so negative when it came to Adam? He didn´t really hate him or anything. At most the guy´s flattering made him uncomfortable, because he didn´t know how to react to it. Bill mainly avoided the guy because Tom was always ranting about him, cursing and telling Bill how sick this was. But did Bill himself think that it was sick to be attracted to another male? He didn´t know. It depended, he guessed. People were often assuming that Bill was gay, because of his looks and all, but truth was, Bill just didn´t know, and the management was quick on denying such questions without even asking him.

But why not find out now? Bill didn´t have anything to do anyways, and Adam and his crew looked like they were having fun, at least. Besides, this way he could show Tom that he was very capable of making friends too, on his own and that he didn´t need his brother´s consent to talk to whoever he liked!

Gathering his wits, Bill stood from the sofa, looking a lot more confident than he inwardly felt, and strolled over to the group surrounding Adam, with a casual, "Hi."

Instantly the crowd was dead quiet and Adam stared at him as if he´d seen a ghost. Bill lifted a brow as if it wasn´t bothering him at all, thinking if he should add something. But maybe this had been a most stupid idea anyways, and he should just flee the scene, pretend that he´d been called by someone else across the room and go hide in his hotel bed...

.........

To be continued!
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Sock Syndrome