Disclaimer: This story is completely fictional. The use of famous persons (members of Tokio Hotel) within the storyline is not meant to cause any harm; Hustler Magazine, Inc. v. Falwell, 485 U.S. 46 (1988).

Warning: Alternate Universe, non-Related Twincest, Homoerotic themes, language, and psychological angst.

No Real Loving You

Tom waded through the sea of customer's in Bill's front yard. A sale was the last thing he had expected to find there. Flipping a price tag or two, he ran his thumb over the grooves of Bill's handwriting. This was as close as the blond had been to him in such a long while. His heart hurt. He wanted to go home. But then his eyes landed on a familiar face, just a few yards away.

"Bill," he whispered to himself, a name he hadn't spoken in months. As if distance and faintness meant nothing, Bill suddenly turned to meet Tom's gaze, his hands clutching the cashbox and a fist full of change. His chest rose and fell in a frantic attempt to keep his body breathing.

"You came back," the brunette heard himself say. His voice was weak but clear as he forced himself out of the shock and steadily then hurriedly, ran to Tom. Dropping the cashbox beside them, Bill threw his arms around the blond's neck. Squeezing him desperately, he couldn't help but notice that Tom's embrace was loose with mild rejection. Slowly, he pulled away until their eyes met again. "I saw you earlier. But then you left and I tried to catch up with your car but—"

"There was no place to park. I had to make the block and try again," Tom explained frankly. He had shown up and that in itself was meaningful, but everything about him seemed so indifferent, so congruent to how he had been when they first met. Bill could sense that the intimacy between them had regressed and being back at square one was killing him inside. Why couldn't they just kiss already?

"Yeah, I've got a lot of business, way more than I expected."

"Well, I'm glad I came. I almost didn't," the blond confessed. "But this was worth seeing. I'm really happy for you."

"Me too," Bill grinned, hoping it might trigger the same expression from Tom. He so desperately wanted to see the other man smile, just a little even.

"Well, keep up the good work. And take care of yourself," Tom finished and slid a pair of shades back down to his eyes. "Bye, Bill."

"Whoa, whoa, whoa…" the brunette grabbed a hold of Tom's shirt sleeve. Things were happening so quickly. "You're just gonna leave now? I didn't do this just for me, ya know. I did it for us. I wanted to prove that I had no intention of ever tricking you or getting your thrown off my case. I really did want you, Tom. I still do."

"Bill…" Tom shook his head and gently pulled away from the other man's grip. He had a thoughtful look on his face, but remained quiet and turned back the way he came, through the forest of customers, to the edge of the yard.

Once the shock had faded, Bill picked up the cashbox quickly and trailed after him.

"Hey!" he called out, following Tom down the sidewalk. "Hey, I'm talking to you! Don't you pull this macho bullshit on me."

Tom didn't turn around, just continued to his vehicle and unlocked the door.

KA-KINK!

"Hey!" the blonde practically screamed at the top of his lungs and put a hand to his chest. Bill had thrown the metal cashbox at his car and the impact cracked his windshield. "What the fuck is wrong with you?"

"No, what the fuck is wrong with you? You can't possibly expect me to believe that the only reason you came here was to say 'Nice job, Bill. Have a good life without me—Peace !' and then just walk away. You're here because part of you knows that I never meant to hurt you; that the way we felt about each other was real. Stop acting like what we have isn't worth it."

Tom ground his teeth just loud enough for Bill to hear.

"Was it real with David," he asked bitterly.
Bill paused for a moment, staring at the pavement. It would be hard to talk about David. It always had been, but this was the only way to redeem himself.

"Yes, for me it was very real. David was nice, he was someone to talk to; someone who didn't know too much about the accident and couldn't judge me; someone who came over everyday and made me feel good about myself again." Bill paused to fold his arms thoughtfully. "But when something seems too good to be true, it usually is and I guess he thought that because I had so much stuff…that I wouldn't realize when things went missing," he shrugged.

"What are you trying to say, that he stole from you?" Tom furrowed his eyebrows skeptically.

"The silver mostly; anything he could sell. I pretended not to notice at first. I thought that if I loved him enough he'd stop, but…" Bill's voice dropped off before jumping to the next thought. "I couldn't tell Gus. It was too embarrassing. At the time it seemed easier to let him think I had formulated some deviant plan to get rid of yet another life-coach with the harassment claim, but the truth was that I just didn't want anyone to know what really happened, that he'd made me into his fool and that I'd let him. No one ever used me like that before," the brunette said quietly. "The others had gone willingly; they said I was too difficult, but not David. I thought it meant he liked me…but he just wanted to my stuff. It wasn't real for him."

The air between them remained still, stale, uncomfortable. Bill had bared his soul and he wanted to stay strong no matter what. But if this wasn't enough, he might just crawl back into the hoard and die.

"And you loved this guy?"

"Tom, please" Bill sighed. "Can't we just forget it? All that matters is that I love y—,"

"Do you know where he lives?" Tom demanded. Bill was taken aback by his aggressive tone.

"Well, yeah. Why?"

"Get in the car. Let's go."

"What? No! Tom! No, no, no…" the brunette shook his head, now realizing how upset the blond was. Tom hadn't been asking these questions to pick a fight with Bill; he wanted to pick a fight with the person who had used Bill, as old feelings for the other boy began to stir within his chest again. Stepping closer, he entwined their fingers with one hand. "Just take a deep breath," Bill coached him. "Believe me, David already got what was coming to him when he got fired, alright? The past is the past. I know that now. It's one of the biggest lessons I've ever had to learn."

Tom didn't say anything for a while. He just thought about the way Bill's fingers felt, tangled with his. The skin was soft and warm and familiar.

"I wish things could just go back the way they were…" he mumbled. His face was reddening and the glimmer of a tear began to slip from behind his shades.

"They can."

"No. You keep things from me. You don't trust me. Not really."

"I swear I didn't think that it mattered. I would've told you about if I'd known; if I'd thought that Gus would make you think that what I have with you was the same as what I had with David. I didn't even know he cared," Bill explained honestly.

Gus. That was another name Tom had neither spoken nor heard in months.

"I'll never forgive him," Tom sniffled.

"Don't say that. I was mad at him for a long time too, but let's get real. We were all keeping secrets from each other in one way or another. I didn't tell Gus the truth about David. He didn't tell you the truth about me, and you didn't tell Gus the truth about us. But honestly, we all had our reasons," Bill reminded him. He watched as Tom slowly removed his sunglasses and wiped a wet cheek with the back of his hand. "Why don't you come back to the house with me? I'll make you some tea."
The blond nodded his head in agreement before a thought came to mind.

"Babe."

"Yes?" Bill smiled at the term of endearment. Babe. That one little word meant so many other words. It meant acceptance and love and mercy. It meant that Tom was going to give him another chance.

"Babe, you cracked my window."

"Oh," Bill's eyes flew open just slightly. Sometimes the things he did out of anger became a forgotten blur.

"Uhm…well, we can use the money from the cashbox to fix it," he said, leaning over the car to collect it from the shattered windshield. Sweetly, he offered it to Tom. The blond just rolled his eyes.

"The irony."

"Sixteen hundred, that's not bad for a day's work," smiled Georg while fitting a rubber band around the wad of paper money in his hand. "And we barely even sold half of all your stuff. That's amazing."

"Thanks for helping me today. I know you had to miss a day of work," Bill replied. "Take some of the money."

"Nah. What are friends for?" Georg filled the cashbox with the wad of paper money and rolled coins before passing it back to Bill. "I think I'm gonna hit the hay. Need me for anything else?"

"No. Get some rest."

"Alright. Tell Tom I said goodnight, your Mom too." And with that, Georg tiredly made his way up to the guest bedroom.

In the kitchen, Tom was drying dishes while Simone washed. It hadn't been apparent to her at first, but after meeting Tom for the first time, seeing how young he was and attractive, she knew now that he likely shared a different sort of relationship with her son than she first expected. The other coaches had been much older, too old for Bill, which included David. But she knew nothing about what had happened between he and Bill and she didn't need to. That would remain a secret.

"So did you guys patch things up okay?" Simone pried a little. Up until then, they'd just been exchanging funny stories about weird customers at the yard sale, but now she wanted to know more about Tom's future in her son's life. Was he just a casual boyfriend, a potential son-in-law, an old lover destined to become nothing more than a family friend? Should she get attached? Nothing could stop these questions from circling her mind.

"We're working on it," Tom replied.

"Thank you for standing by him. I know my son can be…"

"Crazy?"

"Unique," Simone finished with a laugh and handed over another wet plate. "He adores you, ya know."

Her tone, the way she smiled at him, Tom knew what the woman was hinting at. She didn't have to say it.

"I feel the same way," he said, trying hard not to blush as he wiped the dish dry.

Within the hour they were both ready to go home. Simone made sure to leave first, giving Tom and her son a chance to be alone. It felt good to see that Bill was finally ready to move on from Andreas. And if Tom was the man that Bill wanted to move on with, she saw no vice in that. It was about time.

Back inside the house, Tom and Bill were holding hands at the front door.

"I don't want you to go," Bill pleaded. "I thought you understood that I love you. Stay the night."

"I love you too, but I need some time to myself; time to think about all this. I'm still confused," Tom explained while running a hand through his boyfriend's hair. "Don't take it wrong, okay?" Bill nodded into his touch. "I'll call you," he assured the other man and they parted slowly.

"Bye," Bill whispered as Tom slipped out of the front door and almost cried when the blond pulled it shut. He'd be sleeping alone again tonight.

"Sounds terrific," Gustav smiled. "I'll expect you next week Monday then."

"Thank you, Sir. You won't regret this," Adam said gratefully and reached his hand to across the table to shake with his new boss. He was Tom's new replacement; although no one could ever really replace Tom. It'd taken Gus forever for to finally say yes to someone, partly because he imagined that the other blond might ask for his job back, and mostly because he regretted driving Tom off in the first place. He hadn't meant for that to happen, but jealousy mad him do it.

There was no other reason for acting the way he did. Bill was a grown up who could take care of himself, why should he take his friends love life so personally? But almost effortlessly, Tom had been able to help Bill in a way that Gus had been trying to for years. The closeness that they suddenly shared, the companionship, it all made Gus question his own merit. He was upset with himself for not being able to help Bill and upset with Tom for being able to do what he himself couldn't.

It was just like Georg said; Gus had never been a listener. Maybe if he had, he would have realized how to help Bill kick his addiction ages ago, maybe Tom would have been able to level with him the last time they'd seen each other, maybe…maybe anything but this; this loneliness and guilt. Forever, he'd acted as if he'd known everything, but now it was as if he knew nothing.

Gustav dug Tom's old casework journal out of his desk and quietly thumbed through the pages. He'd need to have a duplicate ready for Adam on Monday.

Monday, Monday.

Damn. Why did Tom have to go?

Tom forced another breath out of his lungs. He almost couldn't keep up with his own breathing anymore and his teeth had started to chatter because the rest of him was shaking so much.

"I can't hold it."

"I don't mind," Bill said against his neck. They'd been at it for hours and poor Tom had done most of the work at his own insistence, but now his body was exhausted. "Come in me."

The blond rocked his hips back and forth, feeling the muscles under his skin burn from the exertion before—

"Oh, oh god, here it comes! Fuck!" He held their sweaty bodies together and let one more orgasm to overthrow him. His penis twitched as just a small deposit of semen spurted into Bill's opening, a majority of which was already in his lover's belly from orgasms past.

They stayed huddled together until Tom's manhood went flaccid and steadily slipped out of Bill's body. Caressing each other and kissing, they basked in the afterglow. The sound of Georg's bedroom door opening and closing across the hall startled them at first.

"Don't make that face," Bill whispered once Tom sat up in bed. His boyfriend was staring at their bedroom door as if he could see through it to Georg's room. "Jealous," the brunette wearily smiled.

After his falling out with Tom, Bill was forced to actively re-evaluate his life. What little he had left in his miserable existence was fading fast and he'd been desperate to gain some sort of control. A nervous attempt at reconciliation with Georg had mended their friendship in a way he didn't think was possible; Georg was living with him now after all. It was just temporary until he could find another job and get settled back into their old town, but the meantime gave them a chance to heal together. It was what they should have been doing all along.

"I'm not jealous," Tom squinted his eyes. "Just concerned…"

"He doesn't even like guys," Bill tried to explain while gently tugging on one of Tom's dreadlocks. "Tomi?"

"Hm?"

"Make love to me again."

"Bill," Tom shook his head. "If I come one more time, either my dick is gonna fall off or I'll die of dehydration. Maybe both, so no more tonight," the blond replied. "Okay?" Bill didn't respond. "Okay?" he asked again and looked over to see that the other boy had fallen asleep.

After cleaning up a little, Tom put on a pair of boxers and wandered his way down to the kitchen for some water. Looking from right to left, the house still had some excess, but nothing that another yard sale couldn't fix. To be honest, it looked strange in there now, creepy even. Tom hurried up with his glass of water, but on his way back upstairs, he realized that something was glowing on the dining room table. It was his phone. Someone had left him a text.

"Gus," he said to himself. God how that name still left a bitter taste in his mouth. Bill had been at him for weeks to make a mends with the other blond and this was obviously his doing, but Tom just wasn't ready yet. It wasn't that Gustav had tried to break them up that Tom was still mad about; it was believing that their friendship had been based on common ground, on a type of brotherhood that no one else at their stupid job could understand; only to realize how fake that bond had been.

"The only reason I didn't automatically hate you too was because I already knew the 'real' reason David got canned."

Tom could still hear those words in his head. Whatever friendship they once had felt so cheap now. Was it even worth it?

"U and I shud talk. Call me 2morrow," the text read.

He'd think about it.

Back upstairs, Tom tried to ease himself onto the mattress without waking Bill. The brunette stirred as his lover worked to cover them both with a blanket.

Things were so much better now, calmer, more honest. If only he could convince Bill to come clean about the plastic box under his bed; the secret one he wasn't supposed to know about. The one with a small collection of Tom's shirts, his old business cards from when he worked at the AWD, and the condom wrappers from every night that they'd slept together since the break up. Somehow he'd find a way to prove to Bill that he wasn't going anywhere; not again. And that the little shrine under the bed wasn't necessary. But old habits die hard.

"Night, baby," the blond kissed his shoulder. Resting against the pillows, his eyes shut wearily and Tom fell asleep in a much less crowded house.