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Destroying Something Beautiful	By : Madame_Lazla Category: Singers/Bands/Musicians > Tokio Hotel Views: 1448 -:- 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.

Chapter List
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The cameras went off like mad when the Jo Bros. left their white hired limo. Joe blocked his eyes from the harsh glares of flashes. Hiss. The light. It burns us. Must escape the light. Must hide in cave. Resolve weakening. We’re melting under the paparazzi suede loafers...

Oh, wait. No we’re not. False alarm.

“...here, hey Joe? Joe?” Kevin gave him a slight nudge that had Joe jumping slightly. The paparazzi were having the time of their lives recording the brotherly interaction.

“Sorry I was spacing out. You were saying, Kev?”

“Never mind,” Kev shook his head slowly as he muttered, “Must be fun to live inside your head.”

If anything, it was colder in Germany than back home. The evening sky was cloaked in thick dark clouds that hinted some sort of precipitation. Oh, it was a game! Guess-The-Weather! Joe tilted his head back to get a better view: sleet, rain or snow? The million-dollar question. It’s between him and Ryan Seacrest. H-he wasn’t sure. Could he call a friend? Give up points for a hint? No? Gosh darn it...

He was standing in the way of something and it collided with his shoulder as it passed him. He stumbled forwards and put his leg in front of him, but, being Joe Jonas and all, lost his footing and fell right on his face.

“Oops! Sorry!” the figure swivelled slightly to smile guiltily at Joe, then sauntered off, its posse hot on its heels.

“Joe! You okay, man?” Kevin and Nick left the reporter from E! Entertainment and were at his side, pulling Joe up. They were waving their hands in front of him to get his attention, because his eyes were still glued on the spot he had seen that figure. That sleek, beautiful figure; pale and smooth as the full-cream milk he had that morning, its face framed by a mane of black spiky hair. It was enchanting, it was captivating. It was...

“Bill Kaulitz,” Nick had a tone of voice that made the heavenly name sound like a swear word. Kevin shook his head self-righteously. The venom and pity was evident in both their eyes.

Their facial expressions went unnoticed by the reporter, who, having heard the mention of the front man of Germany’s hottest rock band, went gushing into more questions.

“Oh, yeah! They’re really cool aren’t they? Tell us, boys, you’ve heard all the drama between your fans and the fans of Tokio Hotel - any comments?”

“Well, we don’t have a problem with them,” Nick was all smiles as he lied, “They’re awesome guys and they are truly talented, and it’s such a shame that our fans and their fans are at each other’s throats, y’know?”

“Music should connect people of different racial, political and social groups, not further divide them, “ Kevin graced the cameraman with a few wise words, even if Joe knew it was all for show.

“I totally agree!” the reporter fluttered her fake eyelashes (She could at least have bothered to make them look real, Joe mused in irritation) , then turned to face Joe - apparently she figured he’d had enough time to gather his bearings.

“So, Joe, many fans are asking - would you think of doing a collaboration with Tokio Hotel, just to show fans that you guys are okay with each other?”

Joe felt himself blush as the image of Bill, smiling sheepishly as his band mates surrounded him like footmen to a prince, filled his mind. Hell YES he wanted to collaborate with that... all of that. Woah, naughty Mini-Joe. Stay down. We can’t jack off in foreign countries - it’s just bad etiquette. Besides, Bill’s a GUY, remember? Mom doesn’t like it when we perve over boys. Now, if he had tits, we’d be set. No, no he’s fine the way he is. Joe was the sinner...

“Joe?” the reporter frowned slightly. She hated it when celebrities didn’t pay attention to her - just because she didn’t have the right look or right talent to be anything more than a TV-presenter. Just wait, she’d prove them wrong.

Joe blinked and smiled softly, “Sorry, I was just staring at how pretty you are. Have you thought of modelling?”

It was the reporter’s turn to blush, “That’s so sweet of you! You really are the flirt, aren’t you?” she palced her hand on his shoulder, leaving it there a little too long and Joe knew it immediately; she’d be looking for him later.

Nick seemed to notice something odd about the interaction, pulling Joe’s shoulder out of her reach while smiling: “Don’t get me wrong, but we’ve only met the band once and our music genres and fans are so different. I don’t know if we’d gel well in the studio.”

When they were out of her earshot, Joe threw Nick a dirty look. “Liar.”

“Manwhore,” Nick shot back, “Besides, it’s all for publicity. I’d actually throw a party if our fans managed to wipe those bastards off the face of the Earth. God I hate them!”

Joe stared at his brother hard, preparing for the only recurring argument that he’d ever had with his brothers: “Why do you hate them? What the Hell have they done to you?”

“What’s not to hate?” Kevin butted in, “They’re all Hedonists, the whole lot of them.”

“That’s not true! Gustav- that’s the drummer dude - is protestant!”

Nick rolled his eyes, “Whatever. Do you know there’s an article that called them devils?” Nick smirked, “I’m starting to believe it’s true...”

Joe bit his lip in irritation. He hated it when his brothers were so two-faced. They had acted just fine in front of the German boys - albeit a little Holier-Than-Thou. He hated it when his brothers were like this, bitchier than girls. Mind you, he wasn’t any better...

“Hey Nick! Hey Kev!” Miley Cyrus, a.k.a Hannah Montana, had pounced on the trio as they entered into the 7- star hotel venue and was smiling her infamous 100-Watt smile that showed all teeth and made her look 7 kinds of spastic. Said smile, however, lost 99.9 Watts as she faced the middle brother.

“Joe.”

“Miley,” Joe returned the strained smile. If he had had his way, he would have thrown something on her, or punched her in the nose as a greeting. It was simple: Joe hated Miley and Miley loathed Joe. But, being part of the Disney family, they had to act like everything is hunky-dory and thus, the deceit continues. God forbid any Disney product should hate someone...

But, Joe thought seriously, Is it me, or is something wrong with Miley? Was it his imagination, or was she looking thinner? Paler? As she turned around to comment on their surroundings, he thought he saw something resembling numerous tiny cuts on the side of her face, cleverly masked with blush and foundation.

Joe felt worry boil in the pit of his stomach. Sure, he would like to throw Miley off the side of a cliff, but the Christian in him had him feeling sorry and concerned for his little brother’s ex. Maybe the break-up ruined her more than he could imagine.

“It’s a nice place, isn’t it?” she was saying, “I’ve never been in a 7 - star hotel before. Sure I’ve been in five - we all have - but I suppose that’s what you get when you’re Germany’s elite!”

Oh right! Joe remembered his dad mentioning something about the December event...

*Ripple ripple ripple*

“Hey dad, remind me why we’re going to Germany in December?” Joe moved his whole body to the side as his ninja karate-kicked Kevin’s half-naked chick into a K.O. God bless the creator of video games.

“Because it’s blah blah blah blah blahddy blah, socialite blah blah blah blah Frau What’s-Her-Face blah blahddy blah charity event blah fishpaste.”

*Ripple ripple ripple*

Oo er. Joe should really start paying attention when his dad says important things.

As the four stars moved towards the main room, taking the odd picture here and there (a lot of requests were for Nick and Miley to pose together - Joe could see it now: NICK AND MILEY, TOGETHER AGAIN? PHOTOS OF THE PAIR FLIRTING AT A CHARITY EVENT IN GERMANY. MORE ON PG 2.) they were greeted by a familiar sight - four boys, one in particular, prattling to the press in rapid German.

“They’re everywhere, aren’t they?” Nick muttered darkly as he sat down at the table assigned for the Jonas brothers. Their parents’ chairs were empty, Fankie’s too. They must have gone off to the bathroom.

Kevin nodded in agreement and Joe bit his tongue. It was only then that he noticed that Miley was sitting next to him - and how would he have guessed? She was sitting silently, eyeing the door and looking close to tears.

“Miley?” Joe was beyond surprised.

“They didn’t even look at me,” she whispered, her voice breaking slightly.

On instinct, Joe placed his hand on her shoulder and gave it a small squeeze, “Miles? You ok?”

As if snapped out of a trance, Miley gave a little jump and stared at Joe as if she was seeing him for the first time, the tears leaking out her eyes involuntarily.

“Woah,” was all Kevin could say.

Nick was more vocal, “Joe, you idiot, what did you do?!” he moved over to sit at the free chair at the other side of her and grabbed her hands firmly in his, “Miley, what’s wrong?!”

She stared at Joe foe a while before breaking out in a shaky smile and shaking her head violently, “Ha ha! This mascara’s playing Hell on my eyes!” she wiped her cheeks hurriedly, sniffling slightly.

“But they’re awesome, huh? Tokio Hotel,” she pointed at the door where she had been looking. There was something sad in her eyes, Joe could tell.

Nick could tell too. Jealousy flashing in HIS eyes, he rubbed her hands and glared at the door.

“Yes,” he snarled, “Yes they are.”

***

“Good everning ladies and gentleman! Welcome to my December charity function to support AIDS orphans in Third-World countries! I am Frau Lou, socialite extrodinaire and heiress to 7* hotel chain Himmel auf Erde, or Heaven on Earth in other countries - but you already know that! I trust that you all had a lovely trip here, but let’s talk business. Do you know how many children die in a SECOND because if neglect...?”

“Dirty bitch,” the E! entertainment reporter muttered from somewhere in Joe’s hair, “She doesn’t give two shits about no orphans dying. She’s just doing this for the publicity.”

“Why do you say that?” Joe mumbled as he removed his lips from her neck.

She moaned and writhed between him and the antique table, “If she really cared, she’d be out there doing something, y’know? Not just - Ah! - holding lavish parties or - Mm! - inviting the press, now would she?”

Joe chuckled at the sounds she made, “No, I guess not.”

“That’s why it’s up to us, Hollywood’s darlings, to show the world we care. To set an example, half of the profit made from tonight will go to UNICEF and their plight!”

“And the other half will buy your rat of a dog a new tiara,” the reporter spat.

Annoyed, Joe lifted himself off her, resting his hands on the polished table and glaring at her, “If you’re gonna comment on everything she says, I’m leaving.” The reporter watched Joe for a second, as if determining whether he was bluffing or not, before grabbing the nape of his neck and pulling him into her already-swollen lips. Her slight hips were grinding into his, as if trying to work up an erection. No such luck. Not that it mattered anyway, she was so horny that all she could care about was getting him in her. Hurriedly, she grabbed for his groin and rubbed it with one hand, unbottoning his pants with the other.

All the while, the speaker above them rattled Frau Lou’s speech. She was a very vain person, to be having speakers set up everywhere - even in the cloakroom. The annoyingly high pitched voice was ruining Joe’s fun and the hand on his crotch wasn’t helping. Just as he had guessed, this woman was TOO easy.

"Woah, wait, Mary,” Joe pushed himself away from her, backing into the jackets hung up on the other side of the wall.

“It’s Samantha,” the woman sounded a little put out, her eyes unfocused. She leaned against the table, breathing hard, “Is something wrong baby? You uncut down there or something?”

“Agh God no!” Joe smiled guiltily, raising his left hand as he came towards her, “It’s just, you know...”

“Oh,” her face fell when she saw the silver glinting on his ring finger. She grabbed his hand and began sucking his fingers, “But no one’s watching; no one needs to know.”

“God’s watching. God knows.”

“But Joe!” She moaned deeply as she sucked the skin between his middle and ring finger, her small pink tongue brushing against his purity ring a few times, “It’s all an act, isn’t it? This whole virginity thing. It’s okay if it is - I like my men experienced.” Her eyes bored into his as she worked her way up his ring finger suggestively.

He stared at her blankly, afraid. That comment had been a little too specific - the past was now mirrored in the holes that had once housed her sky blue eyes...

Joe smiled hollowly, slowly wrenching his hand out her grasp, “Thank-you, but I’m keeping that for a respectable woman called WIFE, and she sure wouldn’t be easy enough to screw in a closet.”

And with that, he was out the door, not caring if she went after him, not caring if he had hurt her.

“Starfucker,” he muttered as he raced down the hall. His parents would be wondering why he’d taken so long in the ‘bathroom’.

***

Bill tapped his feet in impatience - WOW he was bored! The only one allowed to babble for so long was HIM and him ONLY!! Looking over at everyone at the table, he noticed Georg playing with the zipper of his new leather jacket and fluffing his hair; he watched, half awed, half disgusted, as Gustav leant forward in interest and Tom... Oh God, Tom.

His older twin brother was fast asleep, slumped in his chair with his head facing the sky and his mouth slightly open. The tiniest snores escaped him - unnoticeable to the Average Joe, but they had been Bill’s lullaby every night for the past 19 years; they had been Bill’s aphrodisiac for just as long.

And they were working now.

Trying to ignore the uncomfortable erection pounding his zipper, Bill scanned the hall before meeting the eyes of a certain young lady. She was staring at him, staring at them, with such pain, such betrayal, that for an ounce of a second, Bill almost felt sorry for Miley - having left her to find her way out of the desecrated district by herself and blatantly ignoring her as she tried to make contact with them was a truly heartless thing for him and Tom to do.

Just as he was about to wave, her father, Billy-Ray Cyrus, nudged her elbow and instructed her to pay attention. She complied, throwing one last longing gaze at Bill. Bill made sure she could see him using his middle finger at her, smiling when she began to cry. Prissy bitch. They’d never talk to her again.

Tired of fighting his desire, Bill let a hand slide under the table and began to stroke the denim in front of Tom’s tool. Tom gave a small jump, his eyes opening wide in fright and a low cuss escaping his lips.

“Shh,” Bill’s eyes never left the stage where the debutant was STILL going on, “Don’t attract attention.”

Tom gave a small whimper as his cock came into hardness. The thrill of being caught turned him on. He closed his eyes and forced his body to relax as Bill gave him pleasure.

Bill had to stiffle a moan as he felt Tom’s precum spilling onto his hand. He felt every twitch against his palm and, for the sake of it, let his long nails skim across the surface of Tom’s head.

Tom was gasping, moving his hips so he could fuck Bill’s hand. The two G’s looked at Tom in confusion, but continued what they were doing when Bill rolled his eyes and mouthed “wet dream” - Tom was Tom, after all.

The lights in the hall went out and a slide of UNICEF’s latest project was playing. Tom used the cover of darkness to thrust himself deeper into Bill’s hand and almost fell off his seat when come spurted out of him. Thank God the circular table was so big, for he had erupted like a volcano.

As soon as he had ridden his orgasm out, Tom turned to Bill and started unbottoning his pants.

“Mmm, not here,” Bill placed his hands on Tom’s and kissed Tom passionately. Grabbing his hand, he stood up and whispering a quick, “ need to shit” to Georg, was out the room in a flash with Tom hot on his heels.

***

Joe had initially intended to go to the bathroom, but had been cut off by the reporter who would’ve basically dry-humped on the spot had he not suggested going somewhere more discreet.

Now that he was done with her, Joe remembered his urge to pee. Letting his hand drag gently across the maroon velvet walls, Joe bounded to the bathroom, disappointed.

Once again, nothing had happened. He hadn’t gone hard.

It’s not that he was impotent, no. Every morning Mini-him was trying to escape from his boxers. It was just, every time he got intimate with a girl, his second-in-command went on a holiday to the Bahamas and sunbathed on the beach and partied hard while called every God in the celestial phonebook for his nether regions to do SOMETHING.

He was so ashamed of it, his inability to have a raunchy body, that he’d grab any girl who’d take him, in the hopes that maybe he only reacted to: fat chicks/blackchicks/chicks with moles/brunettes/lesbians etc. (he’d felt so guilty of his impotency and infidelity, that he broke up with the only girl that seemed wifey-material).

No such luck. However, show him that darned advert with the guy sitting in a boat in just his briefs and suddenly his cock would spring into life, cartoon sound effects included.

He sighed loudly as he entered the bathroom. The bathroom was a beautiful sight: plush carpeting; classical music playing in the background; a chandelier towering in the middle of a ceiling that had a painting of angels surrounding the virgin Madonna as she held a baby Jesus.

There was more: two sections of the bathroom, each the size of a small house: one for grooming and one for actual ‘business’.

No wonder Frau Lou was swimming in dough. 7-star was the life!

As Joe gave a polite grin to a man in a penguin suit (Papa Penguin, as Joe started to call him and wondered if Mama Penguin wasn’t in the girls’ loo) who was offering cologne and warm towels, he rounded the corner and went to a urinal that looked as if it had never been used. He unzipped his pants and tinkled, humming along to ‘Fur Elise’.

That was when he heard it.

The sounds of a scuffle and the unpleasant squelching of wet flesh meeting wet flesh.

Joe’s trail of urine stopped abruptly. Were they - ?

The squelching became louder, faster and the moans escalated. Where the hell was Papa Penguin!? Shouldn’t he be stopping this!?

“SHIT FUCK ME HARDER!”

“GOD I LOVE YOUR HOT LITTLE HOLE!!”

“MORE!!! MORE!!!”

“SHIT I’M COMING!”

Ear-piercing screams followed and a primal scent attacked Joe’s senses. Hurriedly, he zipped his pants, slashed some soap on his hands and dashed out the toilet, giving Papa Penguin a pointed look.

In the cubicle, Tom and Bill were lost in each other’s embraces. Bill planted small kisses on Tom’s chest and collarbone, refusing to pull himself out of his brother. Tom twined his fingers into Bill’s hair and held him close, enjoying the mixture of their scents that only sex could cause.

“Tomi,” Bill whispered.

“Billa?”

“Is it wrong for us... to not talk to her?” he frowned as he met his brother eyes.

Tom smiled sweetly and took Bill’s hand into his own, intertwining their fingers, “No Billa. If we let her hang on to us, we’d be destroying all the work we did. She needs to learn to be free by herself, she needs to be weened.”

Bill smiled as he let Tom’s lips caress his own.

“I love you Tom.”

“I love you Bill. Oh, and Bill?”

“Yes Tom?”

“Let’s have sex in English more often. It’s fucking hot!”

***

He was staring. Oh shit, why was he staring? Oh no! Did he notice?

Joe dared a look at the table. Yes, Bill was watching him. With a feral look in his eyes. Was it so obvious that it had been Joe who had encountered them in the bathroom. Although, Joe noted, he did look tell-tale jittery and pale...

For Joe had known IMMEDIATELY who it was in that cubicle - if the names hadn’t been a giveaway, the voices certainly had. No other celebrity had the same voice pitch as Bill, impossible!

As Joe stared at Bill, Tom jumped in his seat next to Bill and began berating him when he followed his twin’s gaze and saw Joe. Joe was getting right embarrassed now, but he didn’t dare break the gaze.

Bill got up, pulling Tom with him. He smiled and murmured something in German to the two G’s before leaving the hall, glancing back at Joe. It was a dare - try catch us a second time.

“Mom, can I be excused?” Joe’s eyes never left Bill’s as he asked his mom. Denise, who had been eating Steak Tar-Tar and explaining to Frankie why he couldn’t have red wine, gave her son a worried look.

“Why do you need to leave, son?”

“Bathroom,” he nearly shouted as Bill and Tom disappeared through the door. He had to catch them!

“Again?”

Kevin Snr.’s eyebrows were raised.

“Ha ha! Joe’s got diarrhoea!” Kevin slapped Joe on the back.

“Gross, Kev!” Nick wrinkled his nose as he dug into his food.

“Well, I suppose when you have to go,” Denise smiled as Joe flew out of his seat and sprinted out the door.

***

“What the fuck, Bill!?” Tom struggled against his little brother, but Bill had his hands above his head.

“Tomi, I want to do you again,” Bill whined as he crashed his lips against Tom’s and grinded his hips wildly.

“Are you fuckin’ crazy!?” Tom gasped as Bill started tonguing his ear.

“Aw, C'mon! Plus, you want it too,” Bill let his hand snake into Tom’s large jeans and began working Tom’s semi-hard cock into full hardness. Tom closed his eyes and let Bill have his way, as always.

“Oh my God!”

Tom froze, mid-moan. That wasn’t his voice, nor was it Bill’s. Turning around slowly, he flushed a bright red as he met the Jonas Brother called Joe, who was staring at them in shock and disgust.

“I - “ before Tom could explain, Joe had dashed off, praying the Lord’s Prayer.

“Fuck Bill, we should’ve been more careful!” but when he saw his brother’s expression, he knew.

Bill had wanted to get caught
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Destroying Something Beautiful