(no subject)
Title:4Evr/nvr@all
Pairing(s): Bill/Tom, Tom/other, Bill/Other implied
Rating: NC-17
th_fanfic Secret Santa fic repost. OP
Warnings:Twincest, Angst.
nightshade24's request: Wall!Sex; Desk!Sex; CarHood!Sex; Must be the twins' first time together after secretly struggling with their feelings. Must have Aggressive!Jealous!Tom but Bill must give as good as he gets. Other likes: I don't mind cross dressing (if it's for a purpose--like a disguise) and some hot role playing. Also love, love, love Protective!Tom if it doesn't get too cheesy. I'm one of those who believes Bill can totally take care of himself--the boy is too crazy not to, but it's still sweet when Tom gets all protective of him. Also love the tables turned and Bill getting all insanely jealous of Manwhore!Tom and his one night stands, and Bill getting fed up with it and claiming his man--even though Tom is clueless to Bill's feelings up until he does. Lots of kissing is also hot. Again, not expecting all of this in the fic, just putting out a list so there's stuff to choose from.
Summary: It has to be forever. Forever or never at all.
AN: sexylittlefeet2 gave me the idea for this fic; the summary was a comment about the twins from tokiohotelfiction.com. Thanks for letting me use it, love!
Tom isn’t sure he believes in gravity. He’s heard of it and he understands the principle, but nobody has ever satisfactorily explained why things don’t float away. He knows certain things only exist if you believe in them, like how Santa only comes while you believe, or the tooth fairy. You can only pray if you believe in God, and Tom hasn’t believed in God since he realised he had a choice in the matter.
Tom’s always been a little bit scared that if he stops believing in gravity, he’ll get out of bed one day and float away.
Bill believes in everything, though. Bill believes everything he’s told, more or less, so Tom’s pretty sure he’s stuck to the earth. And that’s as good a reason as any to keep touching him, to keep him close enough to grab hold of, should gravity decide to give up on Tom one day and let him drift.
Tom knows what keeps him tethered.
#
Bill and Tom spent so much time in detention that they even had their own desks. They were as far away from each other as it was possible to be while still being in the same room. And the only reason Bill really hated detention was that there was nothing in the world more frustrating than being in the same room as Tom and being unable to go near him. It was too weird, too frustrating, worse than not knowing where he was at all.
Almost.
Bill had his suspicions that Tom was trying to get away from him. Bill was pretty sure that Tom had his eye on Jess, a girl who sat beside him sometimes and Bill badly didn’t want to be left alone. Andreas didn’t suffice. He loved Andreas, but he was no substitute for a twin.
Bill sat in detention, pretending to do his homework but mostly watching Tom. Tom was leaning back in his chair, mindlessly fingering cords on the leg of the table behind him. Bill smiled, craving Tom’s attention, and Tom twitched in unexpected understanding. He turned to Bill for a single risky moment and smiled. That kind of contact could get you an extra 15 minutes incarceration but it was worth it.
Bill tuned back to his work. This was Tom’s desk for Maths, and the surface was scratched with a hundred messages that he and others had been eager to communicate. Here was a suggestion that someone called ‘Alec’ was gay. Here was the instruction to kill all hippies and here the conviction that ‘TK’ would ‘<3 JL 4EVR’
Bill frankly didn’t care if Tom had written it, that tramp Jess had written it or someone else entirely had written it to wind one or both of them up. What mattered was that it was wildly inaccurate. He set to work with his biro, scratching away to change JL to BK, just in case anyone else should happen to read the message and be sufficiently ignorant to believe it.
He spent the rest of detention adding up how many of the letters from the word ‘loves’ were in his and Tom’s names and adding them up until he calculated their likelihood of happy ever after. It was a result he could work with.
#
For as long as they could remember, it was we.
We like strawberries. We want to be rockstars. Can we stay up late? We don’t ever want to be separated.
Nobody questioned it. It just was.
It was far more remarkable when they encountered the dreaded singularity.
I want to dye my hair. I want to grow dreads. I’m gay.
Tom had no idea how to deal with that. Bill had taken it upon himself to announce that particular revelation without consulting Tom about the decision and Tom was lost.
‘So, what does this mean to me?’ he had asked. ‘Do you expect me…?’
‘No, Tom!’ Bill had exclaimed. ‘This isn’t about you! It’s about me. It’s my decision. You don’t have to be gay because I am, but if you want to be… I looked it up, there’s about a 50/50 chance of a second identical twin being gay, so you’re as likely as not and… as long as you love me whatever, I love you whatever. So… you can decide.’
There were hugs and thanks, and reassurances of love, and Tom kicking himself for making Bill’s coming-out day all about Tom staying in.
Nothing much changed. Bill was gay. Nobody was that shocked. He was only out to his family and his friends, of course. Tom was straight and that didn’t much surprise anyone, either. Life went on as normal. It was that simple.
Except that it wasn’t that simple.
Bill had made that decision without Tom’s involvement. He had presented Tom with the fait accompli, and the open invitation to make his own decision.
But Tom liked it best when Bill made the decision for him.
We want to go to the Maldives this year.
We want to start singing In Die Nacht on the live shows.
We’re just going to hang out tonight.
Tom could roll his eyes, pretend he was just humouring Bill, then curl up in the comfort of Bill’s welcome dominance. With the freedom to define his own sexuality, he had no idea what to do. He liked girls. He really did. They were soft and sweet and they reminded him of his mother.
And, God, if he needed a reason to consider his own sex, there was a decent one.
#
Tom lost his virginity at age 14, and was sort of unimpressed. Oh, it was the greatest thing ever, of course, he had never known anything like it, but it wasn’t what he expected. He stayed with the girl for another month and then they broke up.
Bill hadn’t exactly been thrilled when Tom had sex for the first time, but he was actually more upset by the break-up. He hadn’t even begun to come to terms with having lost this big part of Tom, accepting that he could lose him altogether, then Tom was back and everything was the same as it had been before. Except Tom joined in with the other boys’ jokes, and he washed more often, acted a bit more grown up.
And he didn’t touch Bill as much. When they hugged, he kept his hands from sliding to Bill’s hips and when they watched TV, he no longer threw his full length over Bill, to just lie there while Bill squirmed and complained. Not like he used to.
Bill didn’t see what had changed, why Tom was suddenly too old to playfight with him or climb under his covers and let Bill lean against his chest. All he knew was that it was gone. And that Tom had changed.
Bill learned that sex changed you. Forever.
#
Bill lost his virginity at the age of 16, and it was the worst thing that ever happened to Tom. Bill was still little, still so easily persuaded. He hadn’t really wanted to do it, except that he had been celibate for so long, and he had been encouraging this guy for months and he desperately, desperately wanted to be on the same level as Tom. To know what was so great about it and to be allowed to catch up.
So Bill had decided to have sex. He drank enough to ease his nerves, made the whole thing as romantic as possible, and never regretted anything as much in his life. His partner (not a virgin) could have been more gentle with him, but it wasn’t the physical pain that upset him. Mostly, it had just felt wrong.
Tom had taken it worse than Bill. Bill never told him he was going to do it. Bill didn’t tell him where he was going the night he went to do it. And Tom had to find out from Georg that the whole thing had gone horribly wrong, and Bill had been in Georg’s room every other subsequent night, crying and holding onto him.
Tom was devastated. There was no way that was right. There was no way his baby brother was going to someone else for comfort, confessing his secrets elsewhere.
There was no way he’d run off and had sex without letting Tom know about it.
There was no way that Bill’s innocence, such a perfectly ingrained part of him, such an integral part of what he remained, was gone, forever. And Tom hadn’t had a chance to say goodbye.
Bill was growing up without him, and that wasn’t right at all.
#
“What if I am gay?”
“What if you are?”
“Would you mind?”
“Why would I mind?”
Tom shrugged. “I might be stealing your thunder.”
Bill laughed. “My big gay thunder. Why? Do you think you might be?”
“I don’t know.”
“Well, are you attracted to men?”
Tom shrugged. “I don’t know if I’m attracted to anyone.”
Bill turned to his brother and ran a thumbnail softly down his cheek. “Are you attracted to me?”
Tom got up and left the room.
#
Tom is seventeen. He’s a rock star. He could be having as much sex as he could possibly handle, but he isn’t. He’s not having any. He hasn’t had sex for a year. He hasn’t had sex since Bill fell into his arms, poured out his heart, told him how bad his one and only encounter was, and asked Tom if he would hate him if Bill just waited. Because sex meant nothing to him without love. He was sure of that now. He wanted to wait for love, to know it was real. To know it was forever, or never at all.
Tom told Bill that that was as fine as it was possible to be.
Tom hasn’t had sex since then. Because Bill’s right, in a way. What is the point? Tom doesn’t even know if he’s 52% or 48%. Tom’s just doing it to do it.
So Tom has stopped doing it.
But he’s been thinking about it: all imprecise fantasies of a soft body against his own, a warm frame pressed to his. He thinks about being close to someone and what makes him come is the indescribable feeling of belonging.
And he kisses. He kissed girls until one night, drunk in Bill’s company, he found his mouth pressed to his brother’s. They hardly moved, just breathing and touching, waiting for the world to fall down around them. When they came away from each other nobody seemed to have any shame. Or any words. But Tom had more kisses for Bill.
Now he doesn’t kiss unless it’s Bill. Because there’s no point in kisses without love and no love compares to that he has for Bill. So now he kisses and he only kisses Bill. But he needs kisses, so he kisses Bill.
#
It has taken them almost six more months to get any further, and it’s all because of Bill. It’s because Bill took it upon himself to scare the shit out of Tom and give him more to think about than the poor boy could handle.
No seventeen year old boy should have to be concerned about the rest of his life. But Tom has been presented with a delicate ultimatum with no get-out clause.
Forever, Bill has said. We will always belong to one another; we will always be twins, brothers and best friends. There will never be anyone who compares. But if we are thinking about doing anything else, at all…
“Any time I do something with you, it makes it so much harder to do it with anyone else,” Bill pointed out. “We make things… special. I won’t ever be able to share you, Tom.”
And on that occasion, it was Bill who left the room.
On this occasion, they are both remaining. Bill is sitting on the edge of the bed, peeling off his shirt anxiously, waiting for Tom to tell him to stop. To tell him it’s too much. While Tom’s not speaking, Bill’s assuming encouragement, and he takes steps. He stands, walks close to Tom, runs his hands down Tom’s already naked chest. Tom closes his eyes, shivers, breathes out shakily and tries to pay attention to the perfectly bizarre situation in which he finds himself.
Everything he lets Bill do, he’s stopping Bill from doing with anyone else. He knows, realistically, it won’t be quite like that, but that’s what Bill has told him. And that’s how he feels. That’s what he’s going to let himself believe. He believes that Bill will never press his lips to anyone else’s neck, never descend to his knees before anyone else, never trace the tip of his tongue across another, unfamiliar navel. For weeks he’s been taking little things away from the rest of the world; special kisses that Bill now promises only belong to Tom, specific touches and pretty, welcome words.
He’s stopping Bill from ever being content to uncover anyone else, so he has to be sure before he lets Bill free his cock from its confines and, shivering in anticipation, slide his lips carefully over his head. But he doesn’t have that kind of control. By the time he questions it, it’s too late, he’s sinking into Bill’s mouth and it’s the most incredible thing he’s ever known. Bill runs in at full tilt, licking his lips to swallow Tom down further than most of the pornstars of Tom’s experience and Tom’s head bangs against the wall with a crack like splitting wood as he jerks, unable to contain his reaction to Bill’s skill.
Tom whimpers to some unnamed god as he looks down, watching Bill suck him like he was born to do it. The blissful expression on Bill’s face is enough, and Tom is dimly aware that if he has made it so Bill will never be able to blow anyone else, that will be alright with him. He will never attempt to stop Bill from doing what he loves.
Tom shudders. It’s so good it hurts. Bill’s swallowing him down so hard Tom can feel his throat tightening around his cock. He can feel the little jerks as Bill struggles to retain control. He looks down to gaze upon the pale white cheek and pink lips that accommodate him and he’s just a little bit keen to cry out loud. He almost backs away, a little scared of the intensity, but there’s a wall behind him and he’s screwed. If he stops Bill, he’ll probably do something worse. He’ll ruin it all for Bill. He’ll spoil him for all other men.
Which is all the incitement he needs to pull Bill to his feet, turn him around, pin him to the wall and make defeat of his mouth, sucking Bill’s tongue in, against his own. He can feel the stud and taste himself on Bill and lift him up against the wall to grind desperately against him.
Tom wants Bill to feel it, too. He’d like very much for Bill to suck him dry, but he’s beginning to accept that that’s the kind of thing that can wait. Right now he wants to feel Bill with him, next to him, the same as him. He unwraps the treat that is Bill’s sex and they begin to move together, squashed intimately with Bill sandwiched between Tom and the wall and so confident in the support that he can wrap his legs around Tom’s hips, grind down into the thrust. Tom’s practically fucking him.
Their cocks slide together, each thrust slicker than the last, and Bill is arching against him, whimpering with the divine contact.
He’s going to fuck Bill. The thought comes out of nowhere and he knows he doesn’t mean now. They’re too close to climax to start pursuing that train of thought, and Tom is going to make it so special because he finally realises the truth of the thing.
“I’m going to make love to you,” he says, his lips brushing Bill’s flushed cheek. “And you’re never going to let anyone else touch you. Because you’re mine.” Bill moans deliriously. “You’ve always been mine. Nobody else can have you. Ever. You hear me?”
Bill nods furiously, gripping at Tom’s shoulders and grinding up against him.
“I never wanted anyone else,” Bill grinds out. “I never will.”
“You sure?” Tom presses, while his hand wraps around their erections, meeting Bill’s where great minds have thought alike. “Because if I make you…”
Bill swings his head down, his lengthening hair sweeping across to bump Tom’s cheek.
“Nobody… else… could…” And that’s it, because his thighs are tensing around Tom’s hips, his butt muscles are hard against Tom’s thighs and he’s coming like he’s never been touched before.
#
Fidelity comes easily to Tom. He wakes up one morning realising he isn’t a percentage. He isn’t gay or straight, he’s Billsexual and that’s all that matters.
#
Less than a week later, Tom would make love to Bill. And he would be ever so careful, at first, because after all this time, he had learned what he had.
And you have to take care of the things that will last you forever.
The End.
Pairing(s): Bill/Tom, Tom/other, Bill/Other implied
Rating: NC-17
th_fanfic Secret Santa fic repost. OP
Warnings:Twincest, Angst.
nightshade24's request: Wall!Sex; Desk!Sex; CarHood!Sex; Must be the twins' first time together after secretly struggling with their feelings. Must have Aggressive!Jealous!Tom but Bill must give as good as he gets. Other likes: I don't mind cross dressing (if it's for a purpose--like a disguise) and some hot role playing. Also love, love, love Protective!Tom if it doesn't get too cheesy. I'm one of those who believes Bill can totally take care of himself--the boy is too crazy not to, but it's still sweet when Tom gets all protective of him. Also love the tables turned and Bill getting all insanely jealous of Manwhore!Tom and his one night stands, and Bill getting fed up with it and claiming his man--even though Tom is clueless to Bill's feelings up until he does. Lots of kissing is also hot. Again, not expecting all of this in the fic, just putting out a list so there's stuff to choose from.
Summary: It has to be forever. Forever or never at all.
AN: sexylittlefeet2 gave me the idea for this fic; the summary was a comment about the twins from tokiohotelfiction.com. Thanks for letting me use it, love!
Tom isn’t sure he believes in gravity. He’s heard of it and he understands the principle, but nobody has ever satisfactorily explained why things don’t float away. He knows certain things only exist if you believe in them, like how Santa only comes while you believe, or the tooth fairy. You can only pray if you believe in God, and Tom hasn’t believed in God since he realised he had a choice in the matter.
Tom’s always been a little bit scared that if he stops believing in gravity, he’ll get out of bed one day and float away.
Bill believes in everything, though. Bill believes everything he’s told, more or less, so Tom’s pretty sure he’s stuck to the earth. And that’s as good a reason as any to keep touching him, to keep him close enough to grab hold of, should gravity decide to give up on Tom one day and let him drift.
Tom knows what keeps him tethered.
#
Bill and Tom spent so much time in detention that they even had their own desks. They were as far away from each other as it was possible to be while still being in the same room. And the only reason Bill really hated detention was that there was nothing in the world more frustrating than being in the same room as Tom and being unable to go near him. It was too weird, too frustrating, worse than not knowing where he was at all.
Almost.
Bill had his suspicions that Tom was trying to get away from him. Bill was pretty sure that Tom had his eye on Jess, a girl who sat beside him sometimes and Bill badly didn’t want to be left alone. Andreas didn’t suffice. He loved Andreas, but he was no substitute for a twin.
Bill sat in detention, pretending to do his homework but mostly watching Tom. Tom was leaning back in his chair, mindlessly fingering cords on the leg of the table behind him. Bill smiled, craving Tom’s attention, and Tom twitched in unexpected understanding. He turned to Bill for a single risky moment and smiled. That kind of contact could get you an extra 15 minutes incarceration but it was worth it.
Bill tuned back to his work. This was Tom’s desk for Maths, and the surface was scratched with a hundred messages that he and others had been eager to communicate. Here was a suggestion that someone called ‘Alec’ was gay. Here was the instruction to kill all hippies and here the conviction that ‘TK’ would ‘<3 JL 4EVR’
Bill frankly didn’t care if Tom had written it, that tramp Jess had written it or someone else entirely had written it to wind one or both of them up. What mattered was that it was wildly inaccurate. He set to work with his biro, scratching away to change JL to BK, just in case anyone else should happen to read the message and be sufficiently ignorant to believe it.
He spent the rest of detention adding up how many of the letters from the word ‘loves’ were in his and Tom’s names and adding them up until he calculated their likelihood of happy ever after. It was a result he could work with.
#
For as long as they could remember, it was we.
We like strawberries. We want to be rockstars. Can we stay up late? We don’t ever want to be separated.
Nobody questioned it. It just was.
It was far more remarkable when they encountered the dreaded singularity.
I want to dye my hair. I want to grow dreads. I’m gay.
Tom had no idea how to deal with that. Bill had taken it upon himself to announce that particular revelation without consulting Tom about the decision and Tom was lost.
‘So, what does this mean to me?’ he had asked. ‘Do you expect me…?’
‘No, Tom!’ Bill had exclaimed. ‘This isn’t about you! It’s about me. It’s my decision. You don’t have to be gay because I am, but if you want to be… I looked it up, there’s about a 50/50 chance of a second identical twin being gay, so you’re as likely as not and… as long as you love me whatever, I love you whatever. So… you can decide.’
There were hugs and thanks, and reassurances of love, and Tom kicking himself for making Bill’s coming-out day all about Tom staying in.
Nothing much changed. Bill was gay. Nobody was that shocked. He was only out to his family and his friends, of course. Tom was straight and that didn’t much surprise anyone, either. Life went on as normal. It was that simple.
Except that it wasn’t that simple.
Bill had made that decision without Tom’s involvement. He had presented Tom with the fait accompli, and the open invitation to make his own decision.
But Tom liked it best when Bill made the decision for him.
We want to go to the Maldives this year.
We want to start singing In Die Nacht on the live shows.
We’re just going to hang out tonight.
Tom could roll his eyes, pretend he was just humouring Bill, then curl up in the comfort of Bill’s welcome dominance. With the freedom to define his own sexuality, he had no idea what to do. He liked girls. He really did. They were soft and sweet and they reminded him of his mother.
And, God, if he needed a reason to consider his own sex, there was a decent one.
#
Tom lost his virginity at age 14, and was sort of unimpressed. Oh, it was the greatest thing ever, of course, he had never known anything like it, but it wasn’t what he expected. He stayed with the girl for another month and then they broke up.
Bill hadn’t exactly been thrilled when Tom had sex for the first time, but he was actually more upset by the break-up. He hadn’t even begun to come to terms with having lost this big part of Tom, accepting that he could lose him altogether, then Tom was back and everything was the same as it had been before. Except Tom joined in with the other boys’ jokes, and he washed more often, acted a bit more grown up.
And he didn’t touch Bill as much. When they hugged, he kept his hands from sliding to Bill’s hips and when they watched TV, he no longer threw his full length over Bill, to just lie there while Bill squirmed and complained. Not like he used to.
Bill didn’t see what had changed, why Tom was suddenly too old to playfight with him or climb under his covers and let Bill lean against his chest. All he knew was that it was gone. And that Tom had changed.
Bill learned that sex changed you. Forever.
#
Bill lost his virginity at the age of 16, and it was the worst thing that ever happened to Tom. Bill was still little, still so easily persuaded. He hadn’t really wanted to do it, except that he had been celibate for so long, and he had been encouraging this guy for months and he desperately, desperately wanted to be on the same level as Tom. To know what was so great about it and to be allowed to catch up.
So Bill had decided to have sex. He drank enough to ease his nerves, made the whole thing as romantic as possible, and never regretted anything as much in his life. His partner (not a virgin) could have been more gentle with him, but it wasn’t the physical pain that upset him. Mostly, it had just felt wrong.
Tom had taken it worse than Bill. Bill never told him he was going to do it. Bill didn’t tell him where he was going the night he went to do it. And Tom had to find out from Georg that the whole thing had gone horribly wrong, and Bill had been in Georg’s room every other subsequent night, crying and holding onto him.
Tom was devastated. There was no way that was right. There was no way his baby brother was going to someone else for comfort, confessing his secrets elsewhere.
There was no way he’d run off and had sex without letting Tom know about it.
There was no way that Bill’s innocence, such a perfectly ingrained part of him, such an integral part of what he remained, was gone, forever. And Tom hadn’t had a chance to say goodbye.
Bill was growing up without him, and that wasn’t right at all.
#
“What if I am gay?”
“What if you are?”
“Would you mind?”
“Why would I mind?”
Tom shrugged. “I might be stealing your thunder.”
Bill laughed. “My big gay thunder. Why? Do you think you might be?”
“I don’t know.”
“Well, are you attracted to men?”
Tom shrugged. “I don’t know if I’m attracted to anyone.”
Bill turned to his brother and ran a thumbnail softly down his cheek. “Are you attracted to me?”
Tom got up and left the room.
#
Tom is seventeen. He’s a rock star. He could be having as much sex as he could possibly handle, but he isn’t. He’s not having any. He hasn’t had sex for a year. He hasn’t had sex since Bill fell into his arms, poured out his heart, told him how bad his one and only encounter was, and asked Tom if he would hate him if Bill just waited. Because sex meant nothing to him without love. He was sure of that now. He wanted to wait for love, to know it was real. To know it was forever, or never at all.
Tom told Bill that that was as fine as it was possible to be.
Tom hasn’t had sex since then. Because Bill’s right, in a way. What is the point? Tom doesn’t even know if he’s 52% or 48%. Tom’s just doing it to do it.
So Tom has stopped doing it.
But he’s been thinking about it: all imprecise fantasies of a soft body against his own, a warm frame pressed to his. He thinks about being close to someone and what makes him come is the indescribable feeling of belonging.
And he kisses. He kissed girls until one night, drunk in Bill’s company, he found his mouth pressed to his brother’s. They hardly moved, just breathing and touching, waiting for the world to fall down around them. When they came away from each other nobody seemed to have any shame. Or any words. But Tom had more kisses for Bill.
Now he doesn’t kiss unless it’s Bill. Because there’s no point in kisses without love and no love compares to that he has for Bill. So now he kisses and he only kisses Bill. But he needs kisses, so he kisses Bill.
#
It has taken them almost six more months to get any further, and it’s all because of Bill. It’s because Bill took it upon himself to scare the shit out of Tom and give him more to think about than the poor boy could handle.
No seventeen year old boy should have to be concerned about the rest of his life. But Tom has been presented with a delicate ultimatum with no get-out clause.
Forever, Bill has said. We will always belong to one another; we will always be twins, brothers and best friends. There will never be anyone who compares. But if we are thinking about doing anything else, at all…
“Any time I do something with you, it makes it so much harder to do it with anyone else,” Bill pointed out. “We make things… special. I won’t ever be able to share you, Tom.”
And on that occasion, it was Bill who left the room.
On this occasion, they are both remaining. Bill is sitting on the edge of the bed, peeling off his shirt anxiously, waiting for Tom to tell him to stop. To tell him it’s too much. While Tom’s not speaking, Bill’s assuming encouragement, and he takes steps. He stands, walks close to Tom, runs his hands down Tom’s already naked chest. Tom closes his eyes, shivers, breathes out shakily and tries to pay attention to the perfectly bizarre situation in which he finds himself.
Everything he lets Bill do, he’s stopping Bill from doing with anyone else. He knows, realistically, it won’t be quite like that, but that’s what Bill has told him. And that’s how he feels. That’s what he’s going to let himself believe. He believes that Bill will never press his lips to anyone else’s neck, never descend to his knees before anyone else, never trace the tip of his tongue across another, unfamiliar navel. For weeks he’s been taking little things away from the rest of the world; special kisses that Bill now promises only belong to Tom, specific touches and pretty, welcome words.
He’s stopping Bill from ever being content to uncover anyone else, so he has to be sure before he lets Bill free his cock from its confines and, shivering in anticipation, slide his lips carefully over his head. But he doesn’t have that kind of control. By the time he questions it, it’s too late, he’s sinking into Bill’s mouth and it’s the most incredible thing he’s ever known. Bill runs in at full tilt, licking his lips to swallow Tom down further than most of the pornstars of Tom’s experience and Tom’s head bangs against the wall with a crack like splitting wood as he jerks, unable to contain his reaction to Bill’s skill.
Tom whimpers to some unnamed god as he looks down, watching Bill suck him like he was born to do it. The blissful expression on Bill’s face is enough, and Tom is dimly aware that if he has made it so Bill will never be able to blow anyone else, that will be alright with him. He will never attempt to stop Bill from doing what he loves.
Tom shudders. It’s so good it hurts. Bill’s swallowing him down so hard Tom can feel his throat tightening around his cock. He can feel the little jerks as Bill struggles to retain control. He looks down to gaze upon the pale white cheek and pink lips that accommodate him and he’s just a little bit keen to cry out loud. He almost backs away, a little scared of the intensity, but there’s a wall behind him and he’s screwed. If he stops Bill, he’ll probably do something worse. He’ll ruin it all for Bill. He’ll spoil him for all other men.
Which is all the incitement he needs to pull Bill to his feet, turn him around, pin him to the wall and make defeat of his mouth, sucking Bill’s tongue in, against his own. He can feel the stud and taste himself on Bill and lift him up against the wall to grind desperately against him.
Tom wants Bill to feel it, too. He’d like very much for Bill to suck him dry, but he’s beginning to accept that that’s the kind of thing that can wait. Right now he wants to feel Bill with him, next to him, the same as him. He unwraps the treat that is Bill’s sex and they begin to move together, squashed intimately with Bill sandwiched between Tom and the wall and so confident in the support that he can wrap his legs around Tom’s hips, grind down into the thrust. Tom’s practically fucking him.
Their cocks slide together, each thrust slicker than the last, and Bill is arching against him, whimpering with the divine contact.
He’s going to fuck Bill. The thought comes out of nowhere and he knows he doesn’t mean now. They’re too close to climax to start pursuing that train of thought, and Tom is going to make it so special because he finally realises the truth of the thing.
“I’m going to make love to you,” he says, his lips brushing Bill’s flushed cheek. “And you’re never going to let anyone else touch you. Because you’re mine.” Bill moans deliriously. “You’ve always been mine. Nobody else can have you. Ever. You hear me?”
Bill nods furiously, gripping at Tom’s shoulders and grinding up against him.
“I never wanted anyone else,” Bill grinds out. “I never will.”
“You sure?” Tom presses, while his hand wraps around their erections, meeting Bill’s where great minds have thought alike. “Because if I make you…”
Bill swings his head down, his lengthening hair sweeping across to bump Tom’s cheek.
“Nobody… else… could…” And that’s it, because his thighs are tensing around Tom’s hips, his butt muscles are hard against Tom’s thighs and he’s coming like he’s never been touched before.
#
Fidelity comes easily to Tom. He wakes up one morning realising he isn’t a percentage. He isn’t gay or straight, he’s Billsexual and that’s all that matters.
#
Less than a week later, Tom would make love to Bill. And he would be ever so careful, at first, because after all this time, he had learned what he had.
And you have to take care of the things that will last you forever.
The End.