Adult-FanFiction.org : Celebrity

Captivation	By : Rina76 Category: Singers/Bands/Musicians > Tokio Hotel Views: 6307 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not know Bill or Tom Kaulitz or any members of Tokio Hotel and this story is a complete work of fiction; it is all made up and not true. I am not making any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 17
- 18
- 19
Chapter 18. Breakdown.
After watching Bill and Tom getting off together, but separately, I switch on the live recording, wanting to see what the boys are doing right now. They’ve woken up and taken their showers, acting like nothing at all happened last night in their bed. Bill is in a bathrobe, getting the tangles out of his damp, freshly-washed hair while Tom sits on the couch with a cigarette, watching morning cartoons. I’ll have to bring them breakfast soon.
Without looking away from the TV screen, Tom starts speaking, broaching something they clearly don’t want to talk about but know they have to sooner or later.
“Bill, I’ve been thinking.”
“Oh?” Pausing with the comb halfway in his hair, Bill suddenly appears anxious but he covers it up and nonchalantly keeps combing. “About what?”
“What if we tell Koji what he wants to hear? What if we tell him we did it?”
“It? You mean…?”
“Yeah. We’ll tell him we fucked.”
Frowning, Bill puts down the comb. “But we didn’t. We didn’t even do anything.”
“He doesn’t know that. If that’s what he’s waiting for, then we should just say we did it and if you’re right, he’ll let us go home.”
“I don’t think he’ll believe us. He knows when we’re lying.”
“We could pretend. Like, act all touchy and hold hands and stuff. He’ll buy it.” Seeing Bill’s dubious expression, Tom elaborates, “Look, I’ll even kiss you in front of him. He’ll definitely believe that.”
“You would?”
“Absolutely. If that’s what it takes to get us out of here, I’ll do it.”
“I don’t know, Tom,” Bill replies slowly and uncertainly. “He’s smart. If we fake it, he could see right through us and we’ll get punished.”
In a desperate tone, Tom exclaims, “Hey, I’ll even use tongue! I will put my tongue in your mouth if it makes him believe us.”
“Really?” Bill starts to sound more hopeful, as if the plan might actually work. Either that or he’s excited about the thought of Tom kissing him.
“Yeah.” Tom nods. “When he calls us to the conference room, that’s when we’ll tell him. You just go along with whatever I say. What do you think?”
Bill considers it, tapping the comb against his chin. Then he shrugs. “I guess we could give it a shot.”
And that’s exactly what happens when they join me in our regular meeting place. Rather than give me a chance to start the conversation, Tom jumps in.
“We did it,” he states boldly, staring at me from his chair across the table. “We slept together. Bill and me.”
I tilt my head at him. “You sleep together every night, Tom.”
“You know what I mean. We had…sex.”
He forces out that last word. I raise my eyebrow sceptically. “Did you now?”
“Yes, and I can prove it.”
He turns to Bill without warning him, grabbing his little brother by the face and smashing their mouths together. Even though he knew it was coming, Bill is still surprised. Maybe he didn’t think Tom would really do it. For a moment, he even forgets to close his eyes but then Bill remembers that he’s supposed to be fooling me and so he lets his lashes fall shut, pretending to melt into the kiss. He doesn’t have to try very hard, the slimmer boy leaning into his bigger sibling as Tom’s lips crush his in a frenzied fashion. Unfortunately, Tom is not a very good actor. I can see him trying not to cringe away from what he’s doing so he’s compensating for it with over-enthusiasm, attempting to hide the fact that it’s uncomfortable for him.
However, Bill doesn’t need to act. He genuinely looks like he’s enjoying it, reaching up to caress Tom’s strong forearms, returning the clumsily-given kisses with softer, more encouraging ones, coaching Tom to slow down a bit. It’s hot to see but it’d be much, much hotter if Tom was actually into it, not just faking for my sake. When Bill opens his mouth to expectantly accept Tom’s tongue, the older twin abruptly loses courage and pulls back. Bill is left staring at Tom with confused eyes, his pink lips wet and parted in bewilderment.
“See?” Tom says to me with false boastfulness and confidence. “We did that and a whole lot more last night.”
“Very nice, Tom. But a kiss doesn’t prove anything,” I point out. “If you really had sex, I want to know all the details. Every last one. What you did and who you did it to.”
The twins exchange glances of alarm. I guess they didn’t discuss that part.
“I’m going to interrogate you boys individually and your stories better match up,” I warn them. “If I discover that you’re lying to me, I won’t be very impressed. In fact, I might even get angry. Do you know what happens when I get angry?”
I leave the threat unspoken, eyeing them both with a challenging amber stare. They begin to sweat and squirm under the pressure, especially Bill.
“We didn’t do it!” He blurts out anxiously.
“Dammit, Bill,” Tom hisses, his plot spoiled.
“You didn’t have sex?” I question, focusing on the more truthful teenager.
“We didn’t. We made the whole thing up.” Bill cringes in his seat. “I’m sorry.”
Scowling, I demand, “Did you two do anything at all last night? Anything that I should know about?”
A quick, awkward glance passes between them. Bill seems to be seeking permission to tell me about their shared orgasm but Tom subtly shakes his head.
“No,” Bill eventually mumbles, his eyes lowered guiltily.
“So, you lied to me.” I pause for a few seconds to show my disgust, pressing my lips together and shaking my head. “I must say that I’m very disappointed in you both. Particularly you, Bill. I thought you were better than that.”
He has the grace to appear ashamed, especially since he promised to tell me the truth if he and Tom ever did anything together. I can tell that it bothers him to lie. If Tom wasn’t in the room, he’d probably reveal their secret to me in every detail but I won’t push Bill any further today or it might upset him. As for Tom…I could discipline him for trying to fool me but I swore to Bill that I wouldn’t touch his brother in anger, not anymore. I swore that I wouldn’t hurt either of them and I won’t. But that doesn’t mean I can’t issue threats to keep them in line.
Glowering at both the teens in disapproval, I caution, “You ever pull a stunt like that again, boys, and I will lock you in separate rooms and not let you see each other until you learn how to tell the truth. Got it?”
“Yes, Koji,” Bill whispers, avoiding my stern gaze and hunching down in his chair, trying to make himself appear smaller.
“Tom? Did you hear what I said?”
“Yes. I heard,” he grits out, glaring at me with black hate.
“Good.” I go to the door and brusquely open it. “Now get out of my sight, you lying little shits.”
They scurry out into the concreted passageway. I give them a few minutes and when I’m sure they’re gone I slip into my media booth, wanting to see what they talked about after I dismissed them. Luckily, my corridor camera captured it all.
Walking towards their own room, Bill remarks in a self-righteous mutter, “Told you it wouldn’t work. Told you he’d see right through us.”
“Shut up,” Tom snaps.
“You didn’t even put your tongue in my mouth,” the younger male scolds. “Maybe that’s why he didn’t believe us.”
“Shut up!”
“If you want, we could practise…” Bill helpfully starts to suggest but Tom silences him with a swift, deadly glare, stopping in the hallway.
“You know why he didn’t believe us, Bill? Because YOU couldn’t keep your damn pie-hole shut! I almost punched you in the face when you said we didn’t do it. Couldn’t you just lie for five fucking minutes?”
“Well, I COULD have,” Bill rejoins argumentatively, “but YOU didn’t come up with any kind of plausible story to tell him. What was I supposed to say? Just make shit up out of thin air? Our stories wouldn’t have matched and he’d have figured it out anyway. I just saved us a whole lot of humiliation by admitting the truth sooner.”
“Mister goody two-shoes,” Tom mutters sarcastically. “Always trying to win points by being such a suck-ass.”
At the scorn in his brother’s voice, Bill gives a huff and rolls his eyes diva-fashion. “Fine. Whatever. Be a dick, then.”
“You’re the dick,” the tanned teen grumbles in reply, viciously kicking at a tiny pebble on the floor with his hi-top sneaker. “Fuck, I wish I was an only child. My life would be so much simpler without you around.”
Knowing that Tom’s just being cranky because his big plan to trick me failed, Bill’s eyes roll to the ceiling again.
“Me too, butthole,” he retorts, irritably shoving through the heavy metal door to their room and almost letting it swing back into Tom’s face.
They get over their little spat soon enough, especially when they realise I didn’t actually punish them for their lies. Tom even comments that I let them off surprisingly easy. He thought I’d keep them in the conference room all day or make them play some horribly degrading game or something.
“He’s trying to be nice to us from now on, Tom.” Sitting on the couch with his long legs crossed at the knees, Bill draws delicately on a lit cigarette. “He promised he would.”
“Nice?” Tom’s thick eyebrows elevate incredulously as he’s fetching the cast-iron pair of dumbbells out from under the bed. “He threatened to lock us in separate rooms!”
“But he didn’t actually DO it,” Bill reminds him. “Koji only threatened that because we lied to him. If we tell him the truth, if we show him respect, he’ll respect us too.”
“Yeah, well, you can fawn over him if you want but that control freak is never getting any damn respect from me. And don’t you dare tell him about last night, either,” Tom adds, meaning how he eavesdropped on Bill’s masturbation session and came in his shorts over it. “That shouldn’t have happened. It was a mistake. You tell him about that and he’ll get a huge boner over nothing.”
Bill doesn’t promise that he won’t tell; he just gives Tom a flat look and then squashes out his cigarette butt in the ashtray. He probably wants to argue that it wasn’t a mistake and that the intimacy they shared wasn’t just ‘nothing’ but the brunette knows his protests would only be ignored. Instead he mutters, “I didn’t tie you down and force you to listen, Tom.”
Bent over the bed, Tom’s spine tenses for a moment but then he straightens, inhales a fortifying breath and begins lifting his weights.
………
To demonstrate that I’m really not punishing them in any way, I bring them a bagful of yummy hot calzones for lunch - oven-baked bread parcels stuffed with mushrooms, onion, bell peppers, sun-dried tomatoes, olives and loads of gooey, stringy mozzarella cheese. As soon as I bring it to their room it smells like a pizza shop. They eat it all, Bill consuming more than Tom, who I suppose is trying to watch his calorie intake.
Later on, while the fitter twin is performing the second round of his usual twice-daily muscle-building weight routine, Bill goes to the bathroom and inspects himself in the mirror, paying particular attention to his cheekbones.
“Oh God, I’m getting soooo fat,” he exclaims in a high, dismayed voice through the open doorway.
“No, you aren’t,” a bare-chested Tom says absently, watching a cop show on television as he works out from the couch, a light sheen of sweat covering his torso and back already.
“I am so! See?” Pinching his slightly fuller cheek, Bill insists, “All this food is going straight to my face. I look like a puffer fish!”
“Don’t be dumb.” Tom flicks a stray dreadlock out of his eyes. “You still look as skinny as ever.”
Bill pouts. “You’re just saying that to make me feel better.”
“I don’t know why I bother,” the bigger boy grunts, alternately hefting a dumbbell with each muscled arm. “You don’t listen anyway.”
Before shutting the bathroom door, Bill hesitates, peering around the corner. “Tom?”
“What?”
“Do you wanna share one?”
“One what?” Tom drones in a monotone, not paying attention to anything except the TV.
“Shower.” Here Bill gulps nervously. “With me. When you’re finished working out.”
Tom finally whips his head around, staring at Bill as though he’s not sure if he heard correctly.
Taking a breath, Bill bravely continues, “We don’t have to do anything you don’t want to. I thought maybe we could…you know…just be close. I could scrub your back. And you could wash my hair.” He looks at Tom with hope in his eyes. “Would you like to?”
Suddenly looking scared shitless, Tom exclaims, “No!”
Bill’s lovely face falls in disappointment. It took him a lot of courage to ask that.
“Oh. Okay. Never mind.”
Even through his own fear and shock, Tom can still sense Bill’s hurt feelings and he stammers out a lame, “Sorry.”
Bill is staring down at his hands, unhappily scraping the black varnish off his nails. He needs to re-paint them again.
“Tomi?”
“Yeah?” Tom answers apprehensively, paused with the weights held in both hands.
“I miss you.”
Since they’ve been together every day and night since their reunion, Tom doesn’t understand Bill’s admission, frowning at the prettier nineteen year old in confusion.
“I miss how it used to be with us, when were little and did everything together. You used to like playing with my hair in the bath, giving me shampoo Mohawks. You used to like snuggling in bed with me and talking for hours.” Bill’s voice is wistful. “Now, we’ve been so busy with our lives and career and so much stuff is going on all the time. I feel like we’re starting to drift apart. That we’re losing each other. I wish we could go back to how it was. Back when we were happy.”
Here Bill glances up at his identical brother, a shine of tears building in his beautiful eyes. “We used to be so close and now we’re not. Sometimes, it hurts so much I wanna die.”
Instead of looking confused, Tom now appears distressed, hating it when Bill is miserable because it makes him miserable too. But before he can say anything to fix the situation, Bill lowers his gaze, dejectedly shutting the bathroom door so he can cry in the shower. Alone.
“Go in there, Tom,” I murmur to the screen in front of me. “Bill needs you. Go in there and make it all better.”
Tom almost does, putting down the weights, getting up from the couch and making it as far as the bathroom door before stalling with his hand over the knob, his face torn in an expression of guilt and helplessness. He’s in turmoil. He wants to soothe Bill. But if he goes in there to soothe Bill, something might happen. Something that he doesn’t want to happen. If that thing happens, then it’ll be like him losing and me winning, or so it seems in his mind. He can’t see it as simply becoming closer to Bill, as Bill clearly longs for, but views it as his potential failure and my potential triumph. I’m his enemy. Tom doesn’t want me to win. What he doesn’t understand is that by constantly letting his pride outweigh his instinct he risks losing something else entirely. Something much more important and valuable than his ego.
Bill.
All the younger one wants is more closeness from Tom, more intimacy. More love. Bill is extremely sensitive. If Tom keeps rejecting him like this, the older boy could lose his own brother. Bill could start to withdraw, snubbing Tom’s affections and refusing to speak to him beyond what is necessary. He could slowly turn cold and aloof, the younger one emotionally detaching himself from Tom and moving further away instead of reaching out to his twin. Bill could even end up hating Tom, spurning all attempts at communication, completely cutting Tom out of his personal life and becoming twins in name and business only. Emotional death is almost as bad as actual death. If that ever happened between Bill and Tom Kaulitz, I’m not sure even I could do anything to fix it.
Taking that risk, Tom slowly walks back over to the couch, dropping heavily onto it and staring blankly at the television while Bill is showering without him. Most likely crying in there, too, masking his lonely sniffles and sobs with the sound of running hot water.
Tom stares dully at the TV, not even seeing the show that’s playing on there. It could be static for all he knows. Or cares. Abruptly, his blank expression shatters and he drops his face into his hands.
“God help me,” he chokes out in anguish. “What do I do?”
“Oh Tommy, you silly thing,” I despair, touching his image on the monitor, my fingertips trailing over his shaking shoulders as if I could reach through the screen and comfort him. It breaks my heart to see either of them cry. Not when they could be so happy together. If only Tom would stop trying to prove a point. If only he’d forget about me and his stupid stubbornness and just go make love to his brother, the way they both want. If only Tom would give in, would stop fighting it. Everything these boys ever wanted and needed from each other could happen for them if only Tom would relax enough to let it.
And then they could go home.
………

Later that night when Tom is asleep, Bill presses the green button on the phone. I’m still awake, messing around with all this video footage I’ve recorded of the boys, editing out the long, boring and unnecessary bits and putting it into some kind of watchable form.
When I pick up the phone and say hello, there’s no reply on the other end of the line, just the sound of breathing.
“Bill?”
He doesn’t confirm that it’s him calling but even without the cameras in his room, I’d still suspect it was the younger twin because Tom would never call me, not for anything.
“Bill, I know that’s you,” I push gently. “Are you okay?”
Nothing, just quiet, slightly shaky breaths.
“What’s wrong?”
Again, no answer. I don’t know if he’s afraid of Tom waking up and hearing him, or if he genuinely isn’t able to speak right now. Going by the tormented look on his face, I’d say the latter.
“I’m right here if you need me,” I tell Bill softly, realising that he must be in a lot of distress if he can’t even talk. “Do you need me?”
There are a few long moments of silence and then he eventually rasps, “Yes.”
“All right, stay put,” I instruct. “I’m coming to get you.”
When I reach their room, I wince at the metallic clacking noise of the deadbolt sliding free. I push the door open a crack and Bill’s apprehensive brown eyes meet mine. Looking past him, I peek further into the darkened chamber, wondering if the sound of the door unlocking disturbed Tom but he’s still lying on his belly on the bed, unmoving except for his upper back rising and deflating as he breathes in deep slumber. I put my finger over Bill’s lips, needing him to be silent, and then guide him through the doorway. With one last glance at a sleeping Tom, he slips out and joins me in the hall. I don’t close the door to their room all the way as the resulting sound of the bolt locking shut might wake Tom. I just let it rest ajar slightly so that when Bill returns, he can slip in quietly.
When we enter the conference room I’m prepared to have Bill vent at me over a cup of coffee and complain about the way Tom’s treating him, or even to have him sit there and mope in a dramatic fashion, but I’m not prepared for the way he sinks to his knees in front of me and attacks my pants with single-minded desperation.
I stop him, grabbing his slim wrists and holding them in my clenched hands, preventing him from going any further.
“What are you doing, Bill?”
“I want you,” he breathes in an urgent whisper, his eyes dark and needy as he gazes up at me. He licks his lips and tugs at my grip. “I want to touch you. Taste you.”
“No, you don’t.” My voice is harsh. “I know why you’re really here. You just want to do to me what you can’t do to Tom. What he won’t LET you do. You want to punish him by being with me instead.”
The slim singer blinks, looking shocked by my bluntness and accuracy.
“It’s okay, though. I understand,” I say in a kinder tone, releasing his wrists. “I know that what you really want is to touch your brother, to give him pleasure and be close to him intimately, as close as you can possibly be. You want him to do the same for you, to hold you and kiss you and prove that he wants the exact thing you do. And Tom won’t do it, will he?”
I gaze into the torrent of emotions that swirl in Bill’s chocolate eyes, too many to name.
“That’s why you’re so upset, isn’t it? You’re scared that he’ll never love you the way you love him.”
Bill stares at me, still kneeling on the floor. Then he suddenly crumbles, covering his face with his hands and starting to cry, hopelessly and despairingly.
I’m both startled and alarmed. This is the first time he’s done that in front of me. For nearly two weeks, he’s been so strong and brave but his small shoulders have finally broken under such a heavy burden of misery and rejection and he can’t hide it from me anymore. Cursing under my breath, I quickly kneel and take him in my embrace, hugging the frail boy and offering him support. He throws his thin arms around me, clinging closer and releasing his pain with loud sobs against my chest, tears streaming down his cheeks and dripping off his chin.
“Why…why won’t he just love me?” Bill cries out in an agonised wail. I hug him tighter, soothingly stoking his back with one hand.
“I’m so sorry, baby,” I whisper empathically. “I know how much it hurts.”
He keeps sobbing – deep, gut-wrenching sounds that yank at my heartstrings. I’ve never had children of my own and don’t particularly want them but with Bill I feel a strange paternal pull, an almost fatherly urge to guard him and comfort him. When he’s hurting, I hurt too. I’ve never felt that with anyone else but my own twin and only proves how much I’ve grown to care for Bill in the short time he’s been down here. When I first snatched him away outside the public toilets in the park, it was for my own selfish reasons - I’ve come to realise that. It wasn’t about helping the Kaulitz boys to become closer and more fulfilled. It was all about helping ME feel more fulfilled. I wanted the satisfaction of seeing Bill and Tom together and to know that I made it happen, that I alone coerced them into doing it. I suppose I had a kind of ‘mad scientist’ complex and thought they were my little lab-rats that I could train to accept twin-sex and do whatever I wanted them to do.
But now, it’s not merely about my desires anymore. I don’t think I’d feel very satisfied if Tom fucked Bill just to get out of here, if he did it with no real passion or genuine sincerity involved. I don’t want that. I don’t want him to fake it, not even for Bill’s sake. I don’t want to brainwash or manipulate either of the teens into feeling things that they do not actually feel. The only thing I desire now is for Bill to be happy and he will only be happy when Tom loves him in all the ways a person can love another person. I know how much he wants this by how hard he’s crying. And he doesn’t want it just to please me, either. If it was purely Stockholm Syndrome affecting him and his needs, Bill would be happy just to have sex with me. But I’m not the one he is wanting.
It’s Tom. It’s always been Tom.
The most frustrating thing is that I know Tom wants it too but he refuses to participate in his little brother’s quest for happiness, and therefore, his own. Tom could be happier than he’s ever been in his life, being Bill’s best friend and lover, but the older boy simply refuses to believe that it’s possible and that such a relationship could ever work. I’d set them both free tomorrow if I thought there was no hope and that they’d never be romantically involved. I’d let them go rather than waste my time or put them through any more emotional hell. However, with all that I’ve seen and heard in my media room I am absolutely certain that the romance between my captives exists. Tom can deny it all he likes but it is an unbearable reality for Bill, a constant longing and craving for somebody he can’t have – somebody who keeps refusing and rejecting him - and this is why he has finally broken down.
When the sensitive young man in my arms stops weeping and his tears have dried up into miserable sniffles, I sit him up in a chair and offer him a few tissues to wipe his face and blow his nose with, Bill politely turning away to do that. When he faces me again his eyes are bloodshot and puffy, his nose is red and his cheeks are blotchy with emotion-induced colour.
“I lied to you yesterday,” he confesses in a hoarse, raspy voice. “We did do something together. Tom and me, I mean.”
“Really? What did you do?”
“We had a kind of…moment.”
“What kind of moment?”
“Well, I was touching myself in bed,” he reveals, too tired from crying to feel embarrassed. “And Tom was listening. I told him what I wanted from him – to have him inside me – and then we had climax together. We didn’t touch each other. It’s not much but I guess it’s something.”
“It’s a lot more than you believe. Thank you for sharing that with me, Bill,” I reply, honoured that he trusts me with such personal information. I take his narrow shoulders in my hands, squeezing them reassuringly. “Please try not to worry about Tom. Everything will be okay. No matter what he says, your brother does love you, and he will prove that by the time you guys go home. He’ll give you exactly what you want. I’ll make sure of it. All right?”
Sniffling and nodding tremulously, he doesn’t seem entirely convinced by my promise but this is one promise I’m going to keep for him, no matter what I have to do to make it come true.

A/N: Thanks for reading! I may have to update twice a week from now on just to get this thing finished before my baby girl arrives so don't forget to regularly check for new chapters!
- 17
- 18
- 19
You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.
Report Story

Captivation