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Improvisation	By : Rina76 Category: Singers/Bands/Musicians > Tokio Hotel Views: 1721 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not know Georg Listing, Tom Kaulitz, Bill Kaulitz or any members of Tokio Hotel. This story is a complete work of fiction and not true. I don't own this fandom am not making any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 12
- 13
- 14
During the next seven days they are very busy and are working long hours, filming a heap of Miles/Joseph scenes, and the two actors are so tired from the early mornings and late nights that they don’t get to be alone as often as they would like. Their alone time is practically non-existent. Georg went to Tom’s trailer one evening and they started making out but they were both so exhausted, they ended up falling asleep mid-kiss. Similar thing happened when Tom showed up at Georg’s place the following night. Georg began caressing Tom on the bed and kissing his chest and belly. When Georg raised his head, wondering why Tom was so quiet and unresponsive, he found that the other boy was dead to the world so Georg gave up and joined his partner in getting some much needed rest. At least, until Tom did his usual pre-dawn vanishing act. How he manages to wake himself up without setting an alarm is a mystery to Georg.

At the end of each hard day, the lovers want to see each other but find it too difficult to drag themselves out of their own trailers. It’s just easier to fall into bed and sleep. But neither of them takes the non-visits personally. They both understand the demands and pressures of the industry they are in. To relieve their built-up sexual tension, Tom jerks off in the shower and Georg copes with the lack of physical contact by getting on very familiar terms with his dildo each morning. Thanks to this daily practice, he can now take the nine inches of latex inside himself effortlessly and with no pain whatsoever. Only pleasure. A lot of pleasure.

Imagine his surprise when he discovers he can make himself come with the toy alone, without even needing to touch his dick! This is a huge milestone for Georg and quite a revelation. He is learning all sorts of new, fascinating things about his body that he didn’t know before. But all the solo time, while rather enjoyable, just makes him want to be with Tom even more. Which he can’t be, unfortunately. Well, it’s not that he can’t BE with Tom, it’s more like what’s the point if they are both going to fall asleep in the middle of love-making? Both Tom and Georg want their intimate times together to be memorable and intense, not half-hearted and unsatisfactory. To save disappointing each other they stay away and take matters into their own hands.

………

One particular morning, Georg is in a good mood because he knows he and Tom will only have a few short scenes to do and then they’ll have the rest of the day off. Maybe Gustav saw how tired they were getting and decided to give them a break. Whatever the reason, Georg is looking forward to spending the afternoon with Tom.

When he waltzes into makeup, clad in the requisite trench coat and black pants, Georg sees the long-haired teen sitting in a chair in front of the mirror, his eyes shut tight as Natalie is lining along his top lashes with a brown pencil. She has Tom’s chin in her hand, tilting his head to the left. A paper collar is tucked around Tom’s neck, protecting his dark shirt from powder stains. The blonde woman smiles at Georg and Georg nods and smiles back. He drapes his costumed figure into the chair to the right of his co-star. A layer of foundation has already been applied to the younger boy’s face, not that Tom really needs it with his almost flawless skin.

“Okay, now look up,” the makeup artist tells Tom who sighs impatiently and obeys, gazing at the ceiling while she outlines his lower lashes with the pencil. Tom hates this part of his day, fussing over his appearance, but he has to put up with it. One of the aspects of the job. He is wearing a grey long sleeved shirt and even darker grey pants. Joseph’s unremarkably bland clothing. His hair has been combed meticulously smooth on the top and caught in a neat ponytail at the nape of his neck, all held in place with a liberal spray of lacquer. There’s not one blond strand out of place. Tom never wears his hair like that outside of work. He’s more a fan of the letting-it-all-hang-loose look. Even if he does tie it up, it’s always in a messy half-bun kind of style. He still doesn’t realize Georg is sitting next to him.

Georg would like to take the opportunity to eat Tom up with his eyes, missing him ever so much over these last few days (and nights), but Natalie might think it odd if he stares at Tom that way and Georg doesn’t want to cause any speculation about their friendship. It would be nice to openly admire his lover and show affection in public but he knows that would not be wise. So, he refrains from staring and feigns interest in a fashion magazine while his blond co-star is made up. After the pencil-wielding woman is done with him, Tom sighs, this time in relief, and turns around to behold Georg already there beside him. When a wide smile splits the teenager’s pretty face and lights him up, Georg feels his heart swell. It looks like Tom is genuinely happy to see him.

“Hey, kiddo,” Georg greets him with a smile of his own.

“Hey, man,” Tom says, lightly punching Georg’s arm in a buddy-bonding kind of way. He is still grinning. “Short shoot, today, huh?”

“Yep,” Georg says thankfully. “Be great to finish early for once.”

“You said it,” Tom seconds with an enthusiasm he hasn’t shown for days.

While Natalie has her back to them, digging in her makeup bag, Georg and Tom drink in the sight of each other, wishing they could do more. Even if they can’t hug or kiss or simply touch hands, they both know what each other is thinking. They are thinking of all the sexy fun they’re gonna have later, when work is over. Giving Tom a dashing grin that his alter ego Miles Vanderwolf would be proud of, Georg winks at his secret boyfriend, a wink that says so much without actually saying anything at all.

Under all that makeup, Tom blushes and feels quite silly for it. He’s not usually one for blushing. Before he feels even sillier, he leaps out of the chair, rips the paper collar off and tosses the words, “Meet you there, bro,” over his shoulder, hurriedly departing the makeup trailer and heading on over to the set.

.........

Joseph Reisinger is sitting on a wooden jetty, legs dangling over the edge, contemplating the still, dark lake in front of him, the sun already sunken over the horizon. It is twilight. He’s dressed in clothes of grey, matching his sombre mood. He’s thinking about the twenty million dollars’ worth of diamonds he and Miles Vanderwolf stole from the bank vault. Well, Miles stole them. Joseph just planned it all. Since he hatched the idea and coordinated the whole heist, Joseph wants at least half of the stones but fears that Miles is planning to double cross him and take the whole lot. Even though they’re meant to be best friends, Miles is ruthless and selfish and Joseph wouldn’t put it past the guy to try a stunt like that. There is a speedboat moored from the jetty and it bobs gently while Joseph is waiting for Miles to show. This is their secret meeting point.

As he’s sitting there, Miles, wearing leather gloves and his usual black trench coat, walks up from the rear and pulls out a gun, cocking the hammer. At the dangerous click behind him, Joseph stiffens and turns around, eyes wide, moonlight shining on the fine bones of his face and reflecting on his wire-rimmed glasses. The barrel of the weapon is pointed at the startled young man’s forehead.

“Evening, Joe,” Miles greets him casually. “Been waiting long?”

“What are you doing?” Joseph asks, gazing up at Miles’s stern face.

Miles waves the revolver and orders, “Get up,” forcing the smaller male to his feet.

“What are you doing?” Joseph asks again, nervously adjusting his glasses.

“What do you think, genius?” Miles retorts. “I’m gonna kill you.”

“But...but why? We’re friends,” Joseph reminds in a stutter. “We’ve been friends for years.”

With a sneer, Miles says, “Friendship doesn’t mean shit. You think you’re getting half of this ice? Well, you’re not. It’s all mine, Joe. I used you to get it and now that I’ve got it, I don’t need you anymore.”

The older male advances and makes Joseph step backwards, his heels perilously close to the edge of the dock. He can’t step back any further or he’ll fall into the lake. Miles comes up close and presses the weapon to Joseph’s chin, putting his free hand around the side of Joseph’s jaw. His thumb is on Joseph’s smooth cheek, his gloved fingers in the second male’s blond locks. They are close enough to kiss. Joseph gulps.

“You don’t have to do this, Miles.”

Miles gives a chilling grin. “Oh, yes I do. I can’t leave you alive to blab to the cops.”

“I won’t tell them,” Joseph promises, his eyes beseeching the other man. “I won’t tell anyone. Please. You don’t have to kill me.”

Cold-bloodedly, Miles states, “Yes, I do. I’m going to shoot you and then I’m going to dump your body into the lake for the fish to eat.”

Joseph’s face changes. His nervousness disappears, as if it was all an act. “No, you won’t,” he says assuredly, the suddenness of his confidence making the slick-haired male blink. “I can give you one good reason why you won’t.”

Unsure, Miles deepens the lines on his brow, gun still under Joseph’s chin. “And what’s that, huh?”

“In a safe place, I have security footage of you entering the vault with your ski mask off,” Joseph calmly continues, “and if I don’t make a phone call at a certain time, it gets sent straight to the police.”

With unruffled coolness in his gaze, he meets the short-haired man’s bewildered green eyes. “It's called blackmail, Miles. Something you should be quite familiar with.”

Nostrils flaring, Miles roughly jams the muzzle of the weapon into the underside of Joseph’s chin with renewed vengeance, but he doesn’t pull the trigger. “You said you disabled the fucking security cameras!”

“I said that,” Joseph grits out, his speech hindered with the metal cylinder jammed into his larynx, “but I lied.”

Scowling darkly, Miles pulls back, taking his hand off Joseph’s jaw. There are finger marks on the boy’s skin. Miles is still aiming the revolver at the blond teen but he doesn’t look as though he’s so keen to use it anymore.

“Son of a bitch,” he says to Joseph but the words don’t hold much weight. He sounds surprised. He even sounds as though he has a new measure of respect for his accomplice. It’s apparent that he didn’t believe Joseph could be a double crosser too.

Rubbing the underneath of his chin, which is starting to bruise, Joseph replies, “I just thought of what you would do to guarantee your safety if you were me.”

Miles tilts his head and squints at Joseph down the barrel of the gun. “Do you really have security footage? Or are you bluffing? You could be saying that to save your own ass. That’s what I’d do.” Following a pause, Miles concludes, “You know what? I think you’re bluffing. I should just shoot you right now, you lying bastard.”

Facing his aggressor, Joseph gazes straightforwardly at him and asks, “Is that a chance you really want to take?”

Miles doesn’t reply, just scowls more.

“No? Then put that thing away before someone gets hurt,” Joseph reprimands. “You’re too impulsive and you don’t think things through. That’s why you need my brains. You couldn’t have done this job without my help and you know it, Miles. You owe me. I want my half of the diamonds and you’re gonna give them to me or go to jail.”

The brunette drops the gun down to his side in disgust, not happy with the state of affairs but powerless to do anything about it. “Damn you, Joe. I should have killed you along with that whore,” he spits.

Knowing they are at a stalemate for now, Miles sighs and pockets the weapon, retrieving a cigarette and lighting it. He sucks on it and exhales wearily, sitting on the edge of the dock and looking out over the lake, his gelled hair appearing dark and wet in silver light of the moon. Joseph sits down next to Miles, their thighs touching. He looks at the older man’s handsome profile with a small smile as cigarette smoke curls between them both.

“You can’t kill me, Miles,” Joseph says in a conversational, almost fond manner. “You need me too much.”

Miles doesn’t answer.

.........

“Okay, excellent! Take five, people,” Gustav calls out, ending the scene.

Tom and Georg race outside to the back of the set building, near a neglected garden. There are no flowers here, only dead grass, a few weeds and some straggly yucca plants with spiky leaves. There are a couple of big landscaping rocks in the garden bed that the guys use to sit on. This is their secluded smoking spot. Nobody else comes out here. It’s quiet and private and in recent days they have shared a few secret kisses to keep their physical need for each other at bay. At present, they are not kissing; they can wait until work is finished. As usual, Tom scabs a smoke off Georg and lights up, giving a groan of bliss as the toxic chemicals seep into his bloodstream. Georg doesn’t mind that Tom always seems to be out of cigarettes. He doesn’t mind sharing. Especially with Tom. Hell, if Tom needed a blood transfusion, Georg would be the first one rolling up his sleeve.

“Fuck, I needed that,” Tom sighs, flicking his spent cigarette butt into the garden nearby.

“Yeah, same here,” Georg adds, exhaling a cloud of blue smoke into the nice clean air. “Even though it’s bad for me. I really gotta give it up one day.”

“Good luck,” Tom scoffs. He’s seen Georg attempting to give up smoking on four consecutive occasions and failing spectacularly. Tom hasn’t even bothered to try. He doesn’t need to be a fortune teller to know he would fail too. Sticking his head around a corner, he peeks inside the open doorway of the building and sees that the five-minute break is not over yet. Usually, their breaks are pretty flexible. Ten, fifteen, twenty minutes sometimes. Shooting resumes whenever Gustav starts yelling at everyone to get their asses back on set, but it’s safer to return before then.

“Hey, Georg. Follow me,” he entices, getting an idea.

Seeing the glint in Tom’s eyes, the glint that means he is thinking of doing something naughty, Georg lifts his brows inquisitively but obeys, extinguishing his smouldering cigarette butt on the nearest large rock and following Tom’s departing figure. Back inside the building, past the green screen and down a corridor, is a bathroom with two separate cubicles, one for each gender. Tom goes in to the men’s section and motions for Georg to join him. Georg swivels his head around and seeing nobody nearby, he quickly sneaks into the bathroom with Tom. The younger one locks the door and pounces on Georg, shoving him against the porcelain sink. They kiss, messily and thirstily, making murmuring noises as they do, delighted to be in each other’s arms with the special taste of each other filling their mouths: that intoxicating mix of smoke, coffee, salt and masculinity. Needing to breathe, Georg tries to pull back but Tom won’t let him, holding Georg’s head in place with both hands and kissing him as though he hasn’t seen Georg in a whole year.

When Tom finally breaks off for air, Georg says laughingly, “Did you miss me or something?”

“Yeah,” Tom remarks breathily, already starting to get hard. “I couldn’t wait until later.”

Rapidly getting erect himself, Georg answers, “I guess I can’t either.” He catches Tom’s earlobe between his teeth, running his tongue over the empty earring-hole there. He bites down and a spark of lust blazes from Tom’s ear, down his neck and straight to his nipples, which turn tight and tingle, showing through the front of Joseph’s grey shirt. At the rush of pleasure that floods through his body with the bite, Tom makes a low groan.

“There’s that sexy sound I like,” Georg murmurs, nipping his lover’s lobe again. “I missed that.”

They kiss some more while their hands locate each other’s crotches and rub their respective hard-ons through their pants. Though they want to moan out loud, the two actors try to be quiet, not wanting anyone to hear them getting up to no good.

“We haven’t done this for over a week. I’m so fuckin’ horny,” Tom declares, falling to his knees in front of Georg. He unzips Georg’s fly, yanks the man’s pants and briefs down and stops, stunned.

“Dude! Since when do you wax?”

Georg answers with a grin, “Not wax. Shave. And since now.”

Tom smiles sinfully, eyeing off all that naked flesh. “I like it.”

Georg smirks. “Yeah, I thought you would.”

Pleased with this new discovery, Tom experimentally cradles Georg’s balls in his palm. Encasing them is the smoothest, softest, most delicate skin he has ever felt in his life. Bending his partner’s cock up out of the way, Tom’s tongue comes out and sweeps over Georg’s hairless sac, licking, tasting, treating each male pouch with equal loving attention.

“Fuck...Tom...” Georg grits out as indescribable sensation spreads into his stomach and shoots up his vertebrae, caused by Tom’s wetly stroking tongue. The bisexual boy soon focuses on Georg’s dick, sinking it into his opened lips, Georg missing the feeling of Tom’s absent metal piercing running along the side of his shaft, but only for a moment. The kid’s mouth is hot enough to make him lose concentration, lip-ring or no lip-ring. Georg’s lower back is against the rim of the basin that is in front of the mirror. He leans against it for support as his hands instinctively thread into Tom’s hair, messing up the neatness of the platinum strands. Ah, it doesn’t matter; Natalie will fix it before the next take anyway.

The sight of Tom’s mouth around his cock is unbelievably erotic to Georg; those lips were surely made for sucking. Feeling as though he’s doing something bad, Georg has to keep reminding himself that he’s not participating in anything illegal here - Tom is eighteen years old and perfectly consenting to this. And it’s not Georg’s fault that Tom has a girlfriend. Shutting off his moral switch, the older male moans quietly, just enjoying the fantastic experience of being orally worshipped by his gorgeous young co-star. Tom lifts his pretty lashes and meets Georg’s green stare, dick still in his mouth. Tom sees the drugged look in Georg’s eyes, and can’t help a little smile forming around the brunette’s spit-slick member.

Georg cannot get over how much Tom has grown in this relationship. How much he has changed. Not that long ago he was punching Georg in the face for merely kissing him and now look at the kid. At the intense suction Tom is creating on his straining shaft, Georg hisses through his teeth. Fingers still in the blond boy’s silky hair, he caresses Tom’s sculpted cheekbones with his thumbs and whispers, “You are getting so good at this, baby...”

Pausing, Tom flashes another pleased smile before concentrating on the job he has assigned himself. That job is: Make Georg come. And fast; their break will be over soon. He thinks he knows what will help. Tom stops his sucking long enough to stick two fingers into his mouth and then reaches between Georg’s legs. The older male obligingly opens his thighs. Tom touches his partner’s perineum with wet fingers and at Georg’s groaning sound of encouragement, goes even further along that smooth cleft. Tom starts entering Georg slowly, being very gentle, but they don’t have time for slow and gentle.

“Just shove them in,” Georg urges.

Tom frowns. “Won’t that hurt?”

“No, it won’t. I’ve been practising.”

“Practising?”

The younger actor is waiting for further information so Georg abashedly volunteers it. “I bought a...thing. You know, a...a sex aid. A toy.”

Tom’s eyebrows go up. “You bought a vibrator?”

“No!” Georg interjects. In a meeker tone he explains, “It... doesn’t vibrate.”

Realising that Georg is talking about a dildo and that he masturbates with it, a smirk spreads on Tom’s face. “You pervert.”

In defence, Georg argues, “Well, you aren’t gonna screw me so I guess I have to do myself.”

“Damn, G,” Tom remarks in a turned-on tone, envisioning that very hot-sounding scenario of autoeroticism. “I wanna watch you do that. You gotta show me.”

Not ready to perform that act in front of Tom just yet, Georg mumbles, “Maybe one day.”

“Definitely one day.” Tom is already horny in advance. He begins to press his fingertips against the other guy’s entrance. If Georg has been doing this to himself with a toy, Tom reasons, then his fingers should go in easy. And with the help of Tom’s saliva, they do, two of them all the way up to the knuckles. It’s still tight but a lot easier and more elastic than the time he attempted this in the shower.

At the pleasurable intrusion into his body, Georg swears under his breath, his hands stiffening in Tom’s hair. Tom begins to finger-fuck Georg while increasing the strength of the fellatio he is performing, drawing hard with his mouth. Georg is panting now, but quietly. The combination of Tom’s determined sucking and the moist fingers slipping in and out of his shaved ass bring Georg to orgasm at last. With a stifled moan, he bucks his hips and shoves deeper into Tom’s mouth, letting his essence spill onto the back of the kid’s throat.

As he always does when Georg comes, Tom feels an overwhelming sense of achievement and closes his eyes as his mouth is filled with warm fluid. After the final surge, Tom pulls back, gently removes his fingers and stands up. Georg gets out of the way so Tom can spit the dose of sperm into the sink. The younger actor turns the faucet on and washes his hands, making sure all of Georg’s sperm goes down the drain along with the soapy water. He wipes his hands on a paper towel, tosses it in the trash and turns back to Georg.

By this time, Georg has done his pants back up. He slips his hand around the back of Tom’s neck, bringing him down for a grateful kiss. When they separate, Georg grins fondly at Tom and says, “Thanks, kid. That was fun.”

At Georg’s unnecessary politeness, Tom grins back. “I’m sure it was. But you need to do something about this, Georg.” He glances down at his own unreleased erection. “I can’t go back out there with a woody, man. My pants ain’t loose enough to hide it.”

“I wouldn’t make you do that,” Georg promises, hands already working Tom’s zipper free. He pushes Tom’s pants down to his knees. As much as he adores Tom’s lovely face, the whole bottom half of the boy’s body is exceptionally alluring to Georg. There’s that tight-as-a-drum belly, the circular dip of a navel, the sharp V-shape of hipbones jutting under ivory skin, the thin line of hair trailing down Tom’s lower abdomen to merge with the curls between his thighs. Georg loves it. All of it.

“You can stare at me later.” Tom’s dry voice snaps Georg out of his enthralled reverie. “You better get on with it; we don’t have much time.”

“Right. Getting on with it.” Georg makes Tom turn around to face the mirror and then squeezes himself in between Tom and the sink, so that Georg’s back is to the reflective glass on the wall and Tom is facing it. He kneels down on the tiled floor just like Tom did and endeavours to return the favour of a blistering-hot blow job, only with the added kink of letting Tom see the whole act in the mirror.

At first, Tom watches Georg, and his own cock gliding into his co-star’s mouth, but against his will Tom’s eyes keep getting drawn up to his own reflection. Bill likes to stare at herself in the large sliding mirror of her closet door when she is having sex with Tom, appearing captivated by her own image, but Tom isn’t that comfortable looking at himself during the moment. However, with the position that Georg has put him in, the mirror is right there in front of his face and kind of hard to ignore. It’s weird to begin with but Tom soon finds his appearance in the midst of sexual stimulation quite fascinating. His eyelids are at half-mast and his lips are slack and partly open, darkened to a rose-red and revealing his two front pearly teeth. His cheeks are dusky and rosy too.

When he moans, unable to help himself, Tom sees how his brows draw together and his forehead crinkles right between his eyes. It’s almost a look of pain. As he observes his face, Tom realises that the better it feels - the more enjoyment he is experiencing - the more it looks like he is hurting. He has seen this look on Bill, and Georg, and on girls that he has slept with in the past, but Tom didn’t think he looked like this himself. Normally, he avoids focusing on his own beauty but right now he sees what everyone else does.

The pressure of Georg’s warm, engulfing mouth and the fast, swirling strokes of his tongue produce the desired result and in a matter of a minute, less even, Georg sucks the marrow out of Tom. Hands gripping the basin, Tom watches his face in the mirror, watches the deceptively painful expression distort his fine features, that tortured grimace that just happens whether you want it to or not. Georg glances up as he is swallowing and catches Tom staring at the mirror, as if the boy’s never seen himself this way before.

See Tom, you ARE beautiful, Georg thinks. He would have told Tom that but his mouth is full.

His climax finished, Tom lets his head fall back and exhales a loud breath of relief. His cheeks are still flushed, though makeup will cover that. No doubt Natalie is hovering around with a compact and a powder brush just waiting for the two of them to get back on set. Tom rearranges his clothing while Georg stands up and brushes the knees of his pants off. A few sections of Tom’s hair have escaped from the tight ponytail and Georg smooths them back with both hands, trying to make it look a little less like the kid just blew someone in the bathroom.

“Stop it,” Tom prompts, taking the other man’s wrists and stilling his fussing. “We really gotta go now, G, or we’re gonna be late. Gustav will kick our asses and then he might make us stay back late and work, instead of letting us go early.”

Georg nods and sighs. “I know. I just wish we were done filming already.”

“Only another hour or so and we’re free,” Tom reminds him. “By the way, whose turn is it to come over?”

“Yours,” Georg states. “You have to come to my place.”

“Okay. I’ll be there as soon as soon as we finish,” Tom pledges.

“You better be.” Georg takes Tom’s face in his palms and kisses the boy on the mouth. Tom pushes him aside before they get carried away again.

When they open the bathroom door, Gustav is just reaching for the handle. Tom and Georg freeze. Startled, the director stares at them with a blank face, and then he slowly reacts, one critical blond eyebrow appearing above the top of his thick black glasses. He was wondering where his two main stars had disappeared to. Well, now he knows. The boys have been making out. Or more. Judging by the pinkness in Tom’s face, definitely more. Gustav hopes they didn’t leave condoms floating in the toilet.

Knowing they have been sprung, Georg blushes brightly. Even his ears flush. How humiliating; caught by their director. He can’t speak. His tongue feels like it is glued to the roof of his mouth. He wants to run away but can’t.

Relieved that it is only Gustav, Tom cheekily says, “Bathroom’s all yours, Gus.”

Gustav shakes his head at them, not amused by their love-struck, hormonal antics. But hey, at least they aren’t fighting.

“You’re wanted on set. Both of you. Now.”

At Gustav’s order, Tom replies quickly, “Yes sir.” Luckily, Tom senses Georg’s frozen state and drags the brunette male away by his arm.

As the bespectacled director goes into the bathroom, he mutters, “Actors.”

Around the corner near the green screen, Georg pulls his arm out of Tom’s grip and groans in mortification, hiding his shame with his hands. His face must be as scarlet as a fire engine.

“Oh, God. Just kill me now.”

“Don’t stress, man,” Tom says persuasively. “Gus already knows about us.”

Surprised, Georg peeks at Tom through a crack in his fingers. “Yeah, I know. How do you know he knows?”

Adjusting his shirt cuffs, Tom reveals, “He had a little chat with me not long ago, told me I had to talk to you and sort our issues out. He was concerned that it was affecting my work.”

Dropping his hands, Georg creases his brow. “Hm. He said the same thing to me.”

“Really? When?”

“The day we got drunk.”

“That sly old dog,” Tom says in wonderment. “Playing matchmaker on us.”

Georg’s lips twist wryly. “Well, it worked didn’t it?”

“True. Maybe we should thank him.”

“Hey - If Gustav gave you the same advice, Tom, why didn’t YOU come see me first?” Georg asks curiously.

Tom flashes his teeth impishly. “The rules of the world according to Tom Trumper, remember?”
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Improvisation