Destroying Something Beautiful | By : Madame_Lazla Category: Singers/Bands/Musicians > Tokio Hotel Views: 1446 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0 |
Disclaimer: THIS IS PURELY FICTION - I own neither the Tokio Hotel & Jonas Brother fandoms, nor do I know the boys personally. I gain no money from this - only self-gratification. |
It's now in the 3rd person from this chapter onwards. We rewind to the day Joe got involved with the twins. Just to show contrast, the twins 'free' a fellow human in this chapter...
Enjoy if ya can! ^^
***
“Good morning New Jersey! Hank Davies here, wakin’ you up to Kiss fm! That’s K -I - I - S fm on 107.2! How’s it goin’ today? It’s a cold, cold 17.6 F down here in the studio, and I can’t say it’s gonna get any war-”
The radio personality’s voice was abruptly cut short as Joe brought his fist down on his stereo/alarm clock. Rolling onto his back, he rubbed his eyes and stretched in a leisured fashion for a couple of minutes. The smell of bacon hit his senses. Mm...bacon. And waffles and omelettes and...
Joe shot out of bed as his thoughts made his stomach growl. Hurriedly he made his bed, wincing when he saw Kevin’s immaculately clean bed. If Kevin was up, no bacon for Joe. And if Frankie and Nick were up, Joe would go hungry and get skinny and DIE. Then all his fans would go ‘boo hoo!’ and place all sorts of breakfast treats around his tombstone, but of course he would be dead so he wouldn’t be able to eat it all...
Joe shook his head wildly, his long dark locks slapping his cheeks. No time for letting his brain run away with him - he needed all his wits if he was going to fight his brothers off the best scraps.
As expected, he was the last one awake. Apart from his little brother Frankie, everyone at the breakfast table was washed, dressed and looking fit to take on the world. Teasingly, Kevin blocked his nose and Frankie sang a song about sleepyheads. But that didn’t matter - so long as nobody touched that steaming plate of pancakes...
“Morning hon,” Denise Jonas smiled over her coffee as Joe took his place at the Jonas breakfast table. There were the customary questions of whether he slept well, what kind of dream he had etc. as Joe dished a large portion of anything within arm’s reach. He was just about to happily tuck into his mountain of carbs, when his father gave him a pointed look.
“Aren’t you forgetting something, son?”
“Oh right!” Joe dropped his cutlery with a small clang! and raised his hands to the heavens: "Rub-a-dub-dub, thanks for the grub, big guy!”
“Joseph Adam Jonas!” his mother proclaimed with wide eyes as his brothers snorted back laughs and his father shook his head, “There will be no blaspheming at my table! You say grace and you say it properly!”
“Yes mom,” still with a ghost of a smile, Joe clapped his hands together and prayed. He thanked God for his father, who was such a good manager. He thanked God for his mother, who was strict but kept him from getting too cocky. He thanked God for Kevin, Nick and Frankie, who were his guiding lights when life got too much for him. And lastly, he thanked God for Hollywood Labels, for without them none of what would happen this evening would have been possible.
Oh, and he thanked God for the food, of course.
“How you can eat all that junk, I’ll never know,” Nick wrinkled his nose and shifted his chair to create a bit of distance between himself and his older brother. Honestly, Joe ate enough crap to incapacitate a gang of truck drivers. Emphasis on the crap - Jeffery Dahmer, the gay serial killer and cannibal, had nothing on this guy. Even as his brother spoke, Joe was squeezing tomato sauce and syrup over hash browns, bacon, polony, a bran muffin, a pepperoni omelette, dry Coco Pops, 2 slices of Nutella’d toast, pancakes, chopped fruit and a hunk of cheese.
What? He’s a growing boy!
“You better lay off me if you know what’s GOUDA for ya!” Joe dangled the dairy, which was soaked in condiments that should never be mixed, in front of Nick’s nose. For added effect, he stuck out his tongue so his brother could see how the food looked like inside him.
“That. Is. GROSS! Ew ew ew!” the dining chair scraped the tiled floor as Nick, screaming, pushed himself as far from the table as humanely possible. Joe popped the cheese into his mouth smugly as Kevin and Frankie laughed wildly. Denise gave her husband a deliberate look and Kevin Sr. obliged.
“Joe, stop terrorising your brother.”
“Not my fault he has a weak stomach,” Joe replied, but did as he was told, turning back to his food and digging in - literally. Nick stayed solely rooted on his chair, his back still pinned to the wall.
“Nick,” Kevin Sr started.
Nick did nothing.
“Nick...” his mother warned.
“But it’s so disgusting!” Nick’s face contorted as he protested softly.
“NICHOLAS!”
Grimacing, Nick shifted back into his place at the table and continued to eat as if nothing was wrong - parents shouting in unison can do that to you. But Joe gave his brother a friendly clap on th back and Nick punched his shoulder lightly - the mood was lightened.
“Eat up fast, boys,” their mother had uncannily returned to the sweet, dark-haired lady that gave her all for family, “You have tons of things to do before tonight.”
“Haven’t got much to do,” Kevin fiddled with his hair pensively, “Just gotta cut my hair.”
“Then we gotta see the stylist,” Nick chirped in.
“Then the make-up artist,” Joe mumbled as he chewed. (”Don’t talk with your mouth full!” “Yes, mom.”)
“Joe and Nick take so long to get ready!” said Frankie and Kevin nodded in agreement.
“Do not!” Joe yelled, food falling from his mouth. (”Joseph!” “Sorry, mom.”)
“It’s not my fault it takes so long to look this good!” Nick gestured towards himself; clad in dark skinnies, red All-Stars and a polka-dot shirt rolled at the sleeves, Nick Jonas really did look good. He elbowed Joe: “I don’t know what takes him so long, though.”
“Ha ha,” at a record-breaking speed, Joe had wiped his plate clean. He was still hungry, but greed was a sin so he didn’t touch anything else. Besides, there wasn’t time.
“And, of course, you boys have chores,” the table collectively groaned at Kevin Sr’s words. Joe supposed that’s what kept them in line - chores. The bloody things seemed to have piled on now they were famous.
Joe turned his head in time to see Kevin scowling and grimacing. It must’ve been hard for Kev - 21 years old and still doing chores; still getting an allowance. Still working for Disney...
Mind you, Joe wasn’t any better. After all, he’d sacrificed his dream of being a comedian to become a sex-symbol for little girls. Oh yes - his admirers were between the ages of 12... and 12-and-a-half. Not to mention the odd housewife...
But he didn’t mind! Okay, maybe it bugged him a bit, but still...
“We better get going,” Kevin Sr looked at his wristwatch, then gave his wife a kiss on the forehead, “I’ll be waiting in the car so we can leave in the next five minutes.”
“Five minutes!?” Joe gave his dad a reproachful glare, “I haven’t even showered yet!”
“Four minutes,” his dad glanced at his wristwatch.
“This isn’t fair!”
“Three minutes,” beckoning his other two sons, he made for the door.
“I can’t possibly get ready in time!” Joe shouted at his father’s back.
“Two...” the sound of the garage door opening.
“Fine, fine! Just don’t leave me!” amidst a jungle of laughter, Joe shot up the stairs.
***
Her back arched as Bill traced his tongue up her spine. Tom was stroking her core, making sure to hit the spot that made her moan with each twist of her fingers.
She was begging for it, pleading for it - had been for months. And now she was finally getting it.
The seedy motel room smelt of sex and liquor. There were patches on the pink carpeted floor and the stains that looked suspiciously like blood, vomit and semen, strangely spread out. Even now, Bill had grabbed her hair and shoved her face into a fresh stain that smelt like puke.
Grimy as their surrounding was, it was perfect for their purpose. The man who had rented the room out to them didn’t look like he had the slightest idea who they were. He had merely raised the skin where his eyebrows had been at the young girl, but other than that, nothing. The motel was far away, on the outskirts on the little German town - where all the filth, both refuse and Man, occupied.
Certainly no place for the little ‘Princess’ in their care, and that is why they chose it.
“Do they know where you are?” Bill’s voice was hypnotic, sliding out of his mouth and binding the you girl. Binding as it had since the moment they met.
“N-no,” her voice was strained, distant. She was no longer in this universe - she was somewhere between Heaven and Hell; a limbo, only smaller. She nuzzled into Bill’s slight hand as he stroked her cheek. What an innocent little face. It looked so pure, so content.
It annoyed the fuck out of Bill.
Without warning, she was flying. Her back cracked unpleasantly as it collided with the peeled wallpaper. She looked up helplessly as Bill grabbed her by the hair and hoisted her up.
“She’s lying to us, Tomi,” Bill’s eyes never left hers as he called out to his brother in a soft, childish voice.
“You should hit her,” Tom called back just as quietly and the young maiden could see him pulling up a chair, intent on watching.
She saw stars again as the pale wrist collided with her cheeks. His big rings cut small gashes into her and she whimpered.
“Who the fuck did you tell?” Bill’s voice made the walls shiver and the girl shook her head violently in response.
“SHE’S LYING!” Tom leant forward in his seat as he bellowed.
“WHO THE FUCK DID YOU TELL!?” the poor girl’s face was playing tennis with Bill’s hand. She gasped and moaned as Bill threw her to the ground again. Behind him, Tom had reached for his crotch.
“M- my dad. I told my daddy that I was going out,” he southern drawl seemed out of place against the twins’ German accents.
Tom stood up and slowly made his way to Bill. Placing his hand on his brother’s hips, he pulled Bill into him.
“Is she telling the truth?”
Tom stared at the wincing body in front of them before replying: “Yes.”
Bill gently removed his brother’s cap and stroked his face lovingly. He moved forward gently and kissed his twin. The pair remained like that, tenderly embracing, while the girl looked on. Even if everything in her screamed that it was wrong, she loved how horny it made her.
Bill broke the kiss. Eyes still on Tom, he bent down to her level. Tom, never breaking the tender gaze, followed suit. Simultaneously they turned to look at her. It was Bill who spoke.
“You must see, darling, that we are Ihre Prinzen - your princes. What you know up to now, is a lie. You’ve been living a lie, wenig Engel, they’ve trapped you in a sick cycle of deceit. We’re here to break the chians they’ve made for you, but we cannot help you if you keep lying to us. This,” he gestured to the room around them; to the world at large, “this is all a fairytale. Your fairytale,” he stood up and so did Tom. Both reached a hand down to help her up.
“It’s time to stop letting them write it for you.”
Bill was right - they’d saved her. They had opened her eyes to what was always in front of her. Her father pushing her to live the music career he never really had; her brother pushing her to be perfect so he could be rebellious. Society, left, right and centre, pushing her to remain eternally young and naive. In the darkness of her soul, she knew this was meant to be. The bare ceiling light cast halos around them, her princes. They wanted this too - her emancipation.
Each boy received her hand gently and helped her up and towards the bed. It was dirty, unmade. The mattress looked stiff and it had the aura of having been used, but never slept in.
“Freedom isn’t always glamourous,” Tom stroked small circles around her back when he saw her face, “Sometimes, imperfection itself is rebellion.”
Of course. She hadn’t thought of that. It wasn’t where it happened, it was who with. And she couldn't have wished for better company.
“You’ve been a good girl,” Bill laid her down like a princess and she watched both boys take off their pants. “You’ve followed our orders and you’re almost free. You just have one more thing to do.”
She accepted their embraces, those hands that touched and fondled her. She rolled on the bed to give them better access to her skin. Their cold hands worked magical goose pimples. She was ready.
“Please...” she moaned.
Tom lifted her up until she was on all fours on the bed. He positioned himself at her mouth and Bill took his place behind.
“Let’s lie a little, too, wenig Engel,” Bill opened her cheeks.
“Let’s make them think you’re still pure.”
The poor girl wasn’t prepared for double entry. She screamed around Tom’s length as Bill entered her completely. No lube, no oil, not even fucking saliva. He just entered. Tom’s fingers laced through her brown hair and soon both boys were enthusiastically thrusting.
She was scared. This didn’t feel right. It didn’t feel natural. Suddenly, she didn’t want to be free - she was better off at home, being the person everyone wanted her to be...
Something tingled in her lower belly. A warm, good feeling welled up inside her. It made her want to giggle, want to explode. She felt happy for the first time in months. She felt so good that her body began to like what the twins were doing.
Tom and Bill were staring at each other, turned on beyond belief. Nothing mattered now, except their passionate gaze. The girl between them was just there, merely a bridge joining the pair. Everyone of her movements felt like Tom’s muscles around Bill’s dick. Everyone of her moans felt like Bill’s vibrations along Tom’s cock. They began to fuck harder, desperate for more stimulation.
Then it was over. They pulled out one after the other and calmly began to get their clothes on, Tom fixing Bill’s make-up and Bill fixing Tom’s hair. They groomed each other a while longer and turned to leave when Bill remembered something.
“You should get an anal irrigation done when you get back home, or my juice will turn your insides to shit,” he told the girl, who was dripping on both ends and choking on Tom’s cum.
Tom sneered as he watched her writhing.
“You should hurry up and get dressed, Miley - you don’t want you daddy to get worried.”
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