In theory Tom could handle the news. In reality... Not so much.

Georg thought it was cute. Gustav would roll his eyes and try not to laugh. Bill… Bill on the other and thought it was annoying as hell, and for the third time in two days a cup of coffee was snatched out of his hand. “You can’t drink that. I read online it’s not healthy.” Tom hissed, taking the cup and drinking it himself as he slid a bottle of water to him over the table. Bill looked at it blankly, and an eyebrow rose.

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.” He asked, taking the bottle and trying to screw the top off. It was early and they had an interview to do in a few hours and Bill couldn’t seem to wake up. Every couple of minutes he was yawning, even though he went to bed early.

“Bill, you’ve got to eat healthier.”

Bill nodded, but wasn’t really paying attention. It had been a week since he came clean to Tom and he didn’t know what was worse, the panicky Tom that sucked down cigarettes almost faster than he could buy them, or the concerned Tom that didn’t want him out of his sight, or wouldn’t let him do anything. He grimaced and Tom’s eyes widened.

“Are you okay?” He asked quickly, and Bill nodded.

“Tom, please. You’re going to give me an ulcer if you keep asking me that. I’m fine.”

“If you’re fine then why do you look tired?” He asked, and Bill shrugged.

“I’m always tired.” He looked down as his stomach growled. “I’m going to get breakfast.” He stood up just as David walked into the room.

“Bill, where are you going?” Their manager asked, pushing him back into the room gently. “I told everyone to wait here.”

“David, the interview isn’t for another two hours, why can’t Bill go get some breakfast?” Gustav asked, his arms curled around his head as he rested it on the long conference table. Georg was staring out into space, half asleep as he swiveled back and forth in the comfortable chair.

“Because I booked another interview in the interim. They’re here now, and want to go ahead and get started. They’re a very important Swedish magazine, and it would be great exposure.” All four boys groaned as they realized more of their day was gone. “Look, you know the name of the game. We work hard and enjoy the benefits later. Sit down Bill.” He pointed to the chair next to Tom, who looked like he wanted to say something.

Bill sighed and went to sit down next to his brother, fantasizing over waffles with caramel and whipped cream. And a pickle, big dill pickle with sugar on it. The mere thought of it was blissful, and he let out a sigh of happiness, earning him looks from his band members. “Thinking about food.” He explained.

“Weird food more than likely.” Georg muttered as he closed his eyes and leaned back in his seat. The doors opened and everyone rose as two women came into the room; the interviewer who introduced herself as Charlotte and her interpreter named Mercedes. It progressed fairly quickly, with the standard questions like ‘how do you like Oslo’ and ‘how did you come up with the name Tokio Hotel’. Bill was practically zoning out, trying to pinch himself on the arm to stay awake. Tom nudged him gently in the side and he straightened up.

“I’m sorry, what?” He asked, frowning. Charlotte paused in jotting down her notes and looked up at him.

“I asked about the recent rumors that you’re sick. What do you have to say about them?”

Bill opened his mouth to refute it when Tom stepped in. “Bill doesn’t like to talk about it, but he’s been under the weather for a while. He’s just pushing himself too hard because he believes in giving the best performance for our fans.” He said smoothly.

She nodded as the interpreter repeated Tom’s words in another language, and scribbled some more on the pad. “Bill, how about your love life? We hear about your brother’s all the time, but not a peep coming from you. Usually that means you’re hiding something, or extremely unlucky in love. Which is it?”

Bill’s eyes widened as Mercedes repeated Charlotte’s words, and he sputtered, trying to figure out an answer. “I just keep my love life very private. There’s… no one right now, but I definitely wouldn’t say I’m unlucky in love.”

“When was the last time you went out on a date?” She asked, and Bill rolled his eyes as he pushed his chair away from the table.

“I’m sorry; I have to run to the restroom.” He said as he rose, smiling tightly at the interviewer. On his way to the door Bill caught a comment. Must not want to answer the question... He turned around slowly, jaw clenched tightly. Tom’s eyes widened and he shook his head, trying to get his twin to just leave and ignore it, but Bill had never been particularly good at ignoring stupidity from strangers. “Excuse me?” Both women looked up guiltily. “I told you I keep my private life just that, private.  I already answered your question, okay? And don’t think my bodily functions hinged on your words.” He threw her a dazzling smile and promptly walked out of the room.

Tom turned back to the women with a tight smile, unable to figure out what to say to smooth this over. Gustav looked up and smiled brightly. “So, lovely weather you have here.” He said uneasily.

~*~

Bill stared up at David and crossed his arms. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Drop the stupid act Bill, it doesn’t become you.” Jost spat, pacing back and forth in the now empty conference room. Their last interview concluded just moments ago, and their manager dismissed everyone but Bill, resolutely kicking Tom out despite his objections. “You can’t afford to alienate the press!”

“They were being assholes!” He said hotly, blinking to clear the dizziness that arrived out of nowhere.

“You don’t get to pitch a fucking fit whenever you want to, okay? You’re the front man, and if you’re not going to think of your own image, then you need to think of the band. Stop being so damn selfish, okay?”

Bill couldn’t believe he was about to cry. This made no sense. He’d been reprimanded worse than this before. “I’m sorry…” He said softly, swallowing the tears as he stared down at his lap.

“Now I’m going to have to smooth everything over so we don’t get a spread about you acting like a Diva, even though you’re always pulling some stunt or another. What’s going to be next? First it was the tattoo without management’s permission, and then it was the whole hair thing. What next Bill? Are you prepping me for a new tantrum? Perhaps you’ll streak at the next awards show.”

“Stop it David, okay? I said I was sorry. If you want me to apologize to those horrible people then I will.” Bill said tiredly.

“I already did that.” David said coldly, shaking his head. “I’m inviting both magazines to return and you’re going to be your normal, pleasant self no matter the stupid stuff they say, okay?” He asked, glaring at the singer. “Are we clear?”

“Yes David.” Bill just felt like crap, and wanted to crawl into bed and shut out the world. The headache from earlier today went from bad to worse as they skipped breakfast and worked through lunch. Every time Tom would try and get away to grab him something to eat he was reminded that the interview wasn’t over. The whole band had been cooped up in the conference room for over eight hours; the two horrible interviews were only the first two. After they left Bill pretty much kept silent, Tom taking on most of the questions and made an effort to be engaging so he could pull the attention away from his twin.

“Good. Tell the guys they can’t go out, I booked us a radio show, and we have to be there at six.”

“In the morning?” Bill’s jaw dropped.

“Yes, in the morning.” David walked out, rolling his eyes. The frontman for Tokio Hotel was usually charismatic and very pleasant for interviews, but lately… something was going on, and he was determined to end it. Turning the corner, he practically ran into Tom, and briefly they looked so much alike his anger surged anew. “Figure out what’s going on with your brother, got it?”

Tom nodded, frowning. “Yeah, okay…’ He watched their manager stalk towards the elevators, and he turned back to continue to the conference room. Tom didn’t want to see this place again for at least a year, but Bill hadn’t returned and from the looks of things he and David had only just finished their conversation.

He opened the door to the room and found Bill wiping his eyes furiously with a napkin on the table. Tom didn’t have the heart to tell him that it was supposed to be just for show. “Bill, what’s wrong? Why are you crying?”

“He thinks I’m acting crazy, and he wants me to stop pitching fits.” The singer sobbed, smearing his eye make up across his face in a thick streak. “I can’t help it; my mouth isn’t listening to my brain anymore!” Bill wailed, allowing himself to be pulled into a hug.

“Bill, you’re just going to have to work on that. I mean, I know you’re going through a lot, but we’re not going to be able to keep this a secret if you keep acting strange.” Bill pulled away and looked him in the eye.

“Excuse me?” He asked, enraged. “Acting strange? Well excuse the fuck out of me. I’m just carrying your fucking baby, dealing with stupid fucking women, on top of our stupid fucking manager who wants to act like I’m the stupid one in this equation. Well you know what? You can just go to hell, and you’re never touching me again!” Bill batted Tom’s hands away and went to stand, and if his twin hadn’t been there he would have hit the ground. The wave of dizziness passed, and Bill breathed deeply as he closed his eyes and rested his forehead on his brother’s chest. “Let me go, I’m fine.” His words were garbled against the voluminous material of Tom’s tee shirt.

“No, you’re not fine. You haven’t eaten all day. No wonder you’re dizzy.” Tom murmured, ignoring Bill’s previous words.

“I’m fine.” Bill repeated, shrugging out of Tom’s grasp. “I’m going to bed.”

“Do you want some company?” He asked, watching his brother leave. Tom’s expression hardened as his twin flipped him off, not once looking back. The door closed and suddenly he felt claustrophobic. Tom tried breathing in and out, but the panic was coming back and he couldn’t stop it. Doubling over, he grasped his knees and forced himself to keep breathing through the chest pains.

How were they going to get through this if he couldn’t do anything right? He couldn’t win for losing. Either he wasn’t paying enough attention or he was paying too much, and every time Bill was the one who decided which was which. His behavior was going to get them all caught, and then what would they say? My twin brother is pregnant with my child? At that thought he dropped to his knees, shaking so hard he really wondered if he would pass out again.

The past week had been difficult, and Tom didn’t know what to do or how to feel, every waking moment was devoted to thinking about how his life would change, how they could get caught, and what would everyone do if they knew that he was the father. They’d separate them, and he’d never get to see his kid, if they let them keep it… that was the last thought he had, and when he woke up he was staring at the ceiling of his hotel room in Brussels.

At least they hadn’t been as bad since then, but every once in a while he’d find he couldn’t breathe, or the paranoia would creep up and he’d feel the need to run. Tom was boxed in with no where to go. How long would it be until Bill felt the need to tell someone? What he told Georg, or Gustav? He gasped again and fought against the darkness on the edge of his sight. His body was trying to shut down.

He couldn’t do this right now, not now not ever. But he wouldn’t leave Bill, and that was that. The breathing came easier and the lightheadedness started to fade. Tom inhaled deeply again, and found it was easier each time. It was going away again. The phone in his pocket rang and he pulled it out, his muscles feeling as if he’d just run a marathon. “Hello?” He asked breathlessly.

“Do you want to go out with us?” It was Gustav, trying to make amends for threatening to beat him up. Tom didn’t want to go, but if he didn’t, he thought he would have another panic attack.

“Yeah, I’m coming.” Tom had to get out of there.

~*~

Georg watched Tom knock back a whole glass of Jack Daniels without a flinch. “Kaulitz, what are you trying to do?” He asked, yelling over the loud beat.

“Forget for a while.” Tom glanced at his phone and stared at the screen. Four missed calls, four voicemails, and ten text messages. He looked away and motioned for the waiter to send over another round.

“I know you want to forget, but you might want to leave a few brain cells for tomorrow.” Gustav warned. “We’re not trying to get smashed here, just let off some steam.”

“Well, you might not have come out to get drunk, but that’s definitely my goal.”

“Tom…” Georg started, but the younger man raised his hand and shook his head.

“No. I left the nag at the hotel.” He said, smiling up at the waitress as she returned with the drinks. Georg went to say something else when Gustav grabbed his wrist, shaking his head quickly.

“What are you doing? He’s going to be useless in the morning.” Georg hissed, gesturing at the way the guitarist was staring into his quickly emptying glass.

“We’re going to get some information.” Gustav said as they watched Tom carefully. He didn’t even notice the silence of his band mates. All that existed for him was a pressing need to be numb for a while. Georg was uneasy, and he began to fidget.

“This isn’t right.”

“Says who?”

“Says me Gustav. Really? We’re going to exploit his weakness right now because we want some information? It scares me how easily you’re able to do this. How many times have you done this to me?” Georg turned to the drummer with an eyebrow raised.

“Intentionally…once.” He admitted.

“I’m supposed to believe that?”

“I wouldn’t lie to you.” Gustav said quietly. Georg went to retort but he saw the look on his face.

“Oh.”

*

“Don’t you think you’ve had enough Tom?” Gustav asked, pulling the glass away from him. He didn’t reply, just shrugged and laughed miserably.

“Does it matter?”

“Yes, it matters.” Georg felt like a voyeur watching Gustav do this. He shivered and put down his own glass. He’d had enough too.

“Well, it doesn’t matter to me.” Tom’s head lolled against the booth and he stared back with a vacant expression.

“Tom, do you know who fathered Bill’s child?” Gust asked the question like he was asking about one of Tom’s caps. Tom nodded blearily, trying to figure out where the waitress was because he needed another drink. This type of question was exactly what he was running from. “Can you tell us?” Now even Georg was leaning forward.

Tom shook his head. “No, you won’t understand.”

“We will Tom, trust me.” Gustav nodded, nudging Georg who did the same. Tom shook his head again, wiping his face. “…Is… he crying?” The blonde asked out of the corner of his mouth. Georg leaned forward and blinked. He was.

“What’s wrong Tom?” He asked, slightly panicked. He’d never seen Tom act like this before.

“I can’t turn my brain off. This is going to be horrible, we can’t be parents! I’m worried about Bill all the time and I can’t seem to stop having these…” Tom trailed off, staring up at the ceiling. By now both boys were leaning over so far they almost fell on the table. A few seconds of silence stretched into a few minutes and Gustav slammed the glass on the table.

“Focus Tom!” He said loudly, just enough to get the oldest Kaulitz to jerk to attentiveness. He lowered his head and stared at them as if seeing for the first time. “Who fathered Bill’s baby.”

“I thought I told you….” Tom said shakily, clutching the empty bottle of Jack Daniels tightly in his hand. Georg shook his head.

“No, you didn’t tell us.”

“Oh. I can’t.”

“Yes, you can. Trust us.” Gustav nodded, trying to maintain the patience to do this right.

“I do trust you, but you’ll think it’s disgusting, you won’t understand. No one understands, it wasn’t meant to happen…” Tom whispered.

“…Was it Bushido?” Gustav asked gingerly. Tom looked up at him in shock.

“Are you doing crack again?” He asked angrily. Georg snorted as the drummer got angry.

“I fucking told you it was baby powder, and we all promised we wouldn’t bring that up again!” He hissed as Tom laughed. “Now who is the father?”

Tom sighed. “You promise you won’t be mad?”

“Why would be mad?” Georg asked. Tom shrugged, staring down at the bottle in his hand. “I’m sure it’s not as bad as you think.”

“It’s so much worse…” He rested his head on his arms, letting go of the bottle and leaning forward onto the table. Georg looked at Gustav, who shrugged, poking Tom on the arm. No response.

“Tom!” Georg nudged him too, eliciting a heavy snore.

“Shit!” Gustav slapped the table and sighed. “We were so close.”

“I don’t want to do that anymore, okay?” Georg asked, still feeling uneasy about the whole thing. “I’m okay now on wanting to know. If they want to tell us then fine. Until then…” He shook his head.

“I’ve never seen him pass out so quickly.”

“But he usually sticks to clear alcohol. The dark shit will fuck you up.” He watched Gustav check his watch. “What time is it?”

“Two fifty-six. We need to get back.”

*

“Fucking pockets…” Georg ransacked Tom’s pants, trying to find his hotel key. Gustav was holding him up, the taller teen practically draped over his shoulder. Thank goodness he was bird light or they would’ve had to call Saki and no one wanted to let David know where they’d been.

“If we can’t find his key card then he’s sleeping in your room.” Gustav yawned, adjusting his grip.

“Fuck that… Got it!” Georg lifted it triumphantly, swiping the card and flipping on the light. Tom didn’t stir as they both lifted him and practically threw him on the bed.  He rolled over, crying softly. “What is he saying?” Gustav shrugged and they came closer, watching Tom reach out for someone not there.

“…Bill….” Tom cried, facial muscles relaxing as he fell back into deeper sleep and erasing the agony on his face. Georg sighed and pulled his friend’s shoes off, rolling him over so he could be pushed under the covers. Gustav watched with a slight smile on his face. He always loved the fact that Georg cared for people, and had no problem expressing concern for others.

They left as quietly as they could, turning off the lights and closing the door. “It’s almost four o’clock, we should go to sleep.” Gustav muttered; walking slowly to his room, Georg’s was right next door. “Do you want to come in?”

“For a few minutes.” Georg smiled, following the drummer into his room. “You know, even though you went about it kind of underhanded, I’m glad you know. I think I was going to go crazy being the only one who knew.” He admitted, sitting on the floor in front of the bed. Gustav grabbed a coke from the minibar and divided it between two glasses, pouring the rest to the brim with vodka.

“Consider this a peace offering.” He handed Georg a glass and sat down beside him on the floor. They drank quietly for a few minutes, comfortable in the silence with no need to break it. It was surprising then that it was Gustav that spoke first, being totally out of character for him. “I’m sorry.” He said, finishing his drink as he stared at the ceiling.

“Sorry for what?”

“Getting you drunk so you’d spill.”

“You said that already, remember?” Georg rolled his head against the bed to look at him. “In the closet the other day.”

“Yeah, but somehow I don’t think you believe me.”

He shrugged. “I don’t think you were lying.”

“That’s not the same thing.” Gustav turned so he was facing him. “I… don’t like talking to people usually, and you know how shy I am.”

“Dude, I’ve known you longer than I’ve known the twins. How can you still be shy around me?” He smiled, looking back at him.

Gustav shrugged uneasily. “Because what you think of me means a lot.”

Georg scoffed. “What are you talking about?” The drummer looked back up at the ceiling in resignation. “Are you drunk?”

“Not nearly enough.” He tried again. “Georg I-” He was cut off by Georg’s lips on his. Gustav froze, but thawed quickly as the kiss deepened.

Georg had to admit, he’s been curious for a while, and it was no secret that he was bisexual. The problem was that Gustav was firmly in the ‘straight’ pile, and while he thought pigs would fly before he’d even get so much as a kiss… here was his friend’s tongue warring for dominance. That was Gustav, either he was in charge or didn’t participate at all. Knowing this, he willingly submitted, and found himself pushed back onto the ground. It was true, fantasy was great, but reality was so much better.

They broke apart abruptly, and Georg stared up at the drummer, who looked like a deer caught in headlights. Gustav scrambled up from on top of him and fled right out of the room. Georg looked at the door in a daze. “This is…your…room…” He said, pulling himself up from the floor and rubbing his face. “Shit. I’m never fucking drinking again.”

The silence in the room mocked him.

Author's Chapter Notes:

Tends not to be kids...

“We are so happy to be in Oslo right now. The country is so beautiful.” Bill smiled, turning his charm up to dangerous levels. The hosts were eating out of the palm of his hand, and he just smiled and drank his lemon water and made jokes and grinned like he was on television. He knew how to dazzle people, on and off the radio, and his goal was to blow everyone away.

“We’re happy to have you; your fans are so faithful and very…very…” The man searched for a word.

“Intense?” Bill supplied graciously.

“Exactly!” The radio deejay snapped his fingers. “Are you guys used to it, or do you wish they’d pull back a little?”

“Absolutely not! Our fans are our lives! We couldn’t do what we do without them. We try to put that sentiment into our live performances every time we step on stage. It’s a thank you to everyone who supports us, who buys our CDs and stand outside in line for days before concerts at the venues. They make us proud, and we want to continue to make them proud.” Bill beamed.

“There you have it folks, the lead singer of Tokio Hotel has been gracious enough to come visit us all morning, and now it’s time for us to go. I’m so sorry for everyone out there trying to dial the station, but the phones have been swamped. Consider yourself lucky if you got through. Stay tuned for Ducky at ten, this is Forstan in the AM!” The show’s jingle played and Bill thanked his lucky stars it was finally over.  “Bill thanks for coming. You’re better than most musicians we have on the show. You actually had an opinion about stuff other than your stylist.”

Bill laughed and shook his hand. “Thanks, I appreciate it. Sometimes I felt I was rambling. I didn’t have my brother here to shut me up.”

“No, it was perfect. You kept the audience engaged and everything, which couldn’t be easy since I see you’re very tired.”

“All the traveling, you know? And we found out last minute that we, I mean I, had the show to do this morning.”

“Like I said, it’s been a good interview. We’ve got to clear out, because after this song goes off the new Deejay has to be in position. It was nice meeting you again.” Forstan shook his hand once more and they parted ways. Bill looked up and saw David in the producer’s booth, his expression conflicted. What was the problem now? He gave his best performance…

Resigned to his fate, Bill walked out of the studio and into the hall, glancing at his phone. No missed calls, no texts…nothing. Angrily he shoved the phone back into his bag and turned around just in time to see David exit the booth. “Bill, great job in there.”

“Wow, you actually think I can do a good job?” Bill asked sarcastically, sitting down on the bench against the wall. Jost rolled his eyes.

“Look, don’t get pissy, okay? You fucked up yesterday, people fuck up every once in a while. You came back and did better than I’ve ever seen you. Normally you would refuse to do something like this without the band, least of all without Tom.” He shrugged. “So, I’m proud of you.”

Bill looked up at him suspiciously. “What is it? What do you have planned?” He asked wearily. David never dropped a compliment like that unless he wanted something. His manager sighed and shook his head, pinching the bridge of his nose.

“No, Bill… I just…” He sat down heavily next to the singer and sighed, resting his elbows on his knees as he leaned forward. “You’d tell me if there was something wrong, right?” David looked over at Bill seriously.

“David-”

“No, Bill seriously. I need to know that you’ll tell me if there’s something wrong.”

“What makes you think something’s wrong?” He asked uneasily, shifting in his seat and hugging the leather jacket closer to his body.

“I can tell when something’s off. I’ve known you guys for a while, we live on a bus together most of the time.” He sighed again and leaned against the wall, staring into space. “I know you think I’m hard, but we have obligations to the image that we’ve crafted over the years. We have a responsibility to the label to be as profitable as we can be, considering they cover the cost of touring every time we go out. It’s just… you can’t lose sight that this is a business; but that’s not your concern. That’s my concern, that’s why I’m your manager. Just… don’t think of me as the bad guy okay? Because I’m only looking out for everyone’s best interest.”

Bill hated when David made sense and sounded like a decent human being. It was harder to lie to him, harder to disregard his words. “Yeah, I get it.” He said glumly, crossing his arms and staring at the tips of his cowboy boots.

“Glad to hear it. Ready to go? You look like you need a nap before the show tonight.”

“I need to eat something first. I had to skip breakfast again.”

~*~

Tom rolled over and groaned, the sun hitting his eyes relentlessly. Scrambling up, he yanked the curtains closed and quickly regretted the movement. He could barely hold on as the room spun around, and gingerly let go of the curtains as soon as he was certain gravity was real. Wincing at the taste in his mouth Tom stumbled to the bathroom and spat in the sink; grimacing again as he wrenched open the complimentary mini bottle of mouth wash and downed it all in one go. What in the hell was he drinking last night?

After sufficiently getting the gummy taste out of his mouth Tom walked back into his room and sighed. Glancing at the clock on the end table they had about four hours until sound check. Someone knocked on the door and he winced, it sounded so sharp when you had a hangover. He opened the door and frowned in confusion. It was Georg, and he looked upset. “What’s wrong with you?”

“How’s your head?” The bassist didn’t respond as he let himself in, closing the door behind him.

“I’ll live, what’s wrong?” Tom asked again.

“We missed a radio show.”

“…Excuse me?”

“We, as in you, me and Gustav, slept through a radio show we were supposed to go to.” Georg clarified. Tom shook his head.

“No, I don’t remember any radio show. I wouldn’t have gone out then.”

“Bill was supposed to tell us. Did he tell you?” Tom shook his head.

“No, he didn’t tell me.”

“Check your phone. David was trying to yell at Bill about it, but he said he called you a couple of times.”

Tom retrieved his phone from the nightstand and brought it out of standby. He blinked at the screen, the evidence of just how many times his brother tried to get in touch with him last night staring him right in the face. “Oh shit…”

“Yeah; David will be up here soon probably, especially since he’ll know you’re awake.”

“Why, are you going to tell him?”

“Hell yeah I am!” Georg tucked his hair behind his ear. “You should have heard the wonderful conversation we had with our beloved manager. So yes, I am going to tell him you’re awake, because why would Gustav and I want to keep all the fun to ourselves?” He started to leave when Tom stopped him.

“What happened to the radio show?”

“It seems that Bill did it by himself.”

“Great…” Tom mumbled, rubbing his forehead and wishing the headache away. Georg exited as quietly as he could, to his immense relief. He looked down at the phone in his hand and pressed the number for Bill’s speed dial, waiting through some inane pop song until his brother‘s voice broke through the music. Voicemail. Shit. “Bill, it’s me. Call me back as soon as possible.” He disconnected the call as he stuck his feet into his shoes.

Opening the door, he gasped as he almost ran into David. “We need to talk.” The man said, pushing him back inside and closing the door behind him.

~*~

Gustav couldn’t look at Georg without blushing and ducking his head. To be honest it was getting on his nerves. His tongue would become stuck to the roof of his mouth whenever the bassist would come near, and as much as he didn’t like to talk, he wanted to say something, anything to break the tension he felt inside. How could he have been so stupid? It must have looked like he wanted to invite him in so he could seduce him. That wasn’t the case.

His feelings towards Georg were kind of weird. They’d known each other for what seemed to be forever, before Gustav knew what ‘liking someone’ was. Then he discovered how awesome girls were and Georg was there to teach him how to give them what they wanted, and what they thought they needed. It was Georg who gave him his first drink of vodka, told him to stay away from cigarettes even though he smoked every once in a while, and taught him how to be cool.

In the beginning he thought it was hero worship, but deep down he knew it wasn’t. But Gustav was straight and that was that. He had no problem with gay people and sometimes he thought Bill was gay, especially with that fucking Prada bag he refused to let out of his sight. So his feelings towards his male band mate were somewhat confusing.

And he wasn’t even girly in any way! Not like Bill, who will give anyone alive a hard on if they’re not prepared when he walked into a room. He didn’t have his delicate beauty. Quite the contrary, he was powerfully built, could drink anyone under the table, was a little sloppy, not at all picky and loved to play punching games that involved bruising and required some sort of recuperation afterwards.

No, he found himself drawn in by the smile, the charm, and the way he truly enjoyed talking to people. Gustav envied the fact that he didn’t want the spotlight, but didn’t mind it when it swung his way. Georg maintained his extreme laidback coolness, his serene grin and unflappable temper. Envy soon found itself evolving into attraction and Gustav was lost.

But he was prepared to leave the feelings he had for Georg locked up in his heart forever. Stupid vodka; it was the last drink that always convinces you something would be okay. Gustav looked up and blushed again, realizing that Georg was looking at him as he came out of his musings. He must hate him, or worse, think he’s repulsive. All this circular thinking wasn’t good for the heart, he was sure of it. Wonder if you could die from embarrassment?

Gustav looked at the door as Tom stomped in; face a thundercloud as he went to his back to check his guitar straps. Jost must have got to him before the sound check because he was livid the entire time. Now they were just killing time until the show. He suppressed a yawn and watched the rest of his band. Georg’s hair was covering his face as he looked down at his bass, strumming a chord intently. Bill was at the vanity tugging at his jacket as he tried his best to ignore Tom.

Tom continued to glance over in Bill’s direction, as if almost willing him to look up and see him standing there. Bill wasn’t going to have it. He was pissed and had no problem letting everyone know. Fucking hormones… The thought of a chemically imbalanced Kaulitz made him cringe. His nerves could barely handle his life, let alone someone else’s.

He couldn’t really blame the singer for being upset about the radio show, but Bill should have been smart enough to know to call either him or Georg when he couldn’t reach Tom. Sometimes Bill would get into a mood and he only wanted to talk to Tom, but that little idiosyncrasy made everyone in the band look bad. They didn’t need to call any extra attention to themselves right now.

Gustav looked up at the ceiling and realized it had to be calmer up there than on the floor.

~*~

Bill bit into the pickle and dipped it in the small bowl of sugar, biting it again and moaning in delight. Pickles had to be the best food ever invented, period. It even helped his mood as he stared into the mirror at the distressing sight. His stomach looked distended; as if he hadn’t known when to get up from the table. The skin on his stomach was becoming stretched; he could see the signs and even feel the difference as he rubbed his stomach. He didn’t want to admit it but he missed Tom’s stomach massages.

He grimaced at the thought of his brother and took an angry swipe of the sugar with the pickle before biting it again. Bill turned this way and that, trying to hold in his stomach but nothing alleviated the swell. He was starting to show. He looked further up his torso and groaned, immediately looking away. The whole boob problem was really getting out of control. He had to use more and more tape and it was getting to be an issue. It was starting to itch and it was majorly uncomfortable. Bill had no idea something as enjoyable as breasts on women could be so horrifying on him. Did women feel like this? Did they hate their boobs too?

He needed something to hold them in place, something other than tape that was comfortable and fit under his clothes. What in the hell could he possibly use? Another bite of the sugary pickle and everything wasn’t quite as bad as it seemed. Bill sighed and looked in the mirror. He was smart enough to know that was the sugar talking.

The concert was good, he had no idea where he found the energy for it all today, but Bill was thankful for small miracles. He hadn’t felt nauseous since he sat down and ate four plates full of klopse before he slowed down to take a breath. He heard his door open and quickly pulled on his tee shirt, forgoing the tape this time. Darting out into his room Bill frowned as he crossed his arms angrily. “How long are you going to be mad at me?” His uninvited guest asked.

“I’ll let you know.” He retorted, rolling his eyes and going back into the bathroom, shutting the door behind him.

“Bill!” Tom sighed and knocked on the door gently. He hadn’t had a chance to talk to his twin the whole day; Bill was avoiding him like the plague and it had to stop.

“Go away!” Bill slid down the door to the floor, sighing as he put his head in his hands.

“Look, I’m sorry okay? Why are you being so fucking emotional?” Bill stood up and yanked open the door, a wrathful expression on his face.

“Emotional. Emotional? Did you come here trying to get me riled up?” He asked. Tom raised his hands tiredly.

“Look, is this about last night? Because I didn’t answer the phone?”

“If you’d answered you would have known about the fucking radio show.”

“Look, I’m sorry okay? This isn’t easy for me.” Tom sat down on the bed as Bill stomped into the room.

“And it’s easy for me?”

“Bill, I’m not saying it’s easy for you, but you’re ignoring the fact that this isn’t easy for me either. If I try and help I’m “smothering” you. If I leave you alone, I don’t “care” and I’m being a jerk. Which one is it Bill?” He yelled, rising and standing before his brother. “I can’t be both; I refuse to be both because it’s too tiring!”

“Look-”

“No! You look. I’m trying to do my best here; I don’t know what I’m doing! You’ve just been either pushing me away or making me feel dumb when I try and do something for you. Why, why would I want to keep trying? I wanted one night where I could ignore this whole situation, where I could just be an eighteen year old again instead of a soon to be parent. This shit wears on my brain every hour of the day and I just wanted some time to fucking breathe, to remember life like it used to be before…” Tom trailed off as he lost steam.

Bill was just standing there, arms crossed with an unreadable expression on his face. They stayed that way, Tom breathing hard and Bill barely breathing at all as they looked at each other, not moving a muscle. “Say something.” Tom pleaded quietly.

Bill opened his mouth and closed it, apparently thinking again. After a minute he tried again. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry that I haven’t been the easiest person to deal with. I don’t mean to be. I’m just scared and most of the time I feel alone.” Tom reached out for him but Bill stepped out of his grasp, walking over to the window. He pulled the curtains open and stared at the city, the lights illuminating the skyline brilliantly. From where he stood it seemed that everything should be fine, as it should be. It wasn’t. “I want to ignore this sometimes.” He said quietly, so low Tom almost didn’t catch it. He felt like shit. Of course he too wanted to pretend for a while that everything was normal.

“Bill…”

“No Tomi. You got to speak and now it’s my turn.” He took a deep breath and turned away from the window. “I can’t take a drink and ignore it. I tried once and felt guilty for a whole week. I don’t get to smoke a cigarette to calm my nerves. I’ve been fighting the urge even though I thought the patch had gotten rid of it.” Bill smiled ruefully. “I see this is breaking you.” Tom went to speak but Bill raised his hand. “Please, don’t think I’m dumb. I know you. I can tell you’re hurting. What do you want me to do?”

“Just understand.” Tom pleaded, coming closer to him. Bill tried to back up but realized he was against the wall already. He watched him warily, looking like a deer spooked. Tom slowed down, trying to put his twin at ease. When did it get like this? “That’s all I’m asking Bill. I don’t mean to smother and I don’t mean to ignore you. I just can’t seem to do anything right and it’s driving me insane.”

“I don’t want to drive you insane, but I feel like I’m going bonkers myself.”Bill rubbed his arms as if he suddenly became cold. “Look, I’m trying to remember this is difficult for you, I really am… I just…” He shrugged. “I don’t know, okay? I just don’t know!” He wiped away his tears angrily. Crying, again? How many times can you do that in one fucking day?

“Bill, please. Will you let me touch you? Please?” Bill shook his head, trying to edge away from Tom without looking at him. “Bill, I miss you, and I know you miss me.”

“You don’t know that.” Bill sized up the option of jumping over the couch and almost did it before he remembered the little life inside his stomach. A couple of months ago he could have made the jump and wouldn’t have thought about it. He looked into Tom’s eyes and his nostril’s flared. He was still so unbelievably angry, but his rage wasn’t getting him anywhere and no matter how much he said otherwise, he needed Tom with all his heart.

He watched his twin reach out and grasp the edges of his tee shirt, tugging gently. Bill shook his head minutely, trying to resist but Tom was always the stronger twin. He took a deep breath as Tom grasped his wrist gently, running his hand up his arm and grabbing his bicep. The other hand lingered somewhere at his back, and suddenly he found himself enveloped in a hug. Bill fought it, still angry and not wanting to give up his anger; it kept the helplessness at bay. But he could never hold himself aloof in one of Tom’s hugs, and he sighed as he rested his head on his brother’s chest. “This sucks, I know.” Tom murmured in his hair, hand rubbing reassuring circles on his lower back. “We’ll get through it, but only together okay?”

“Okay.” Bill murmured, allowing himself to be picked up. He wrapped his arms around Tom’s neck and closed his eyes, not realizing how tired he actually was. Tom placed him gently on the bed and smiled at the way Bill refused to let him go. “Stay with me?” He asked simply.

Tom nodded, and Bill shifted over to allow him room without letting him go. They laid there staring at each other with Bill’s arms still around his neck, Tom’s hand running up and down his side. He had missed this closeness because ever since he told Tom about the pregnancy he wouldn’t stay the whole night anymore. He barely touched him, almost like he was afraid.

Bill leaned in for a kiss and again Tom pulled away, kissing his forehead instead. He wanted to scream but instead he tried to look at it from his brother’s perspective. He was probably weirded out by the whole thing and needed more time. Or maybe he didn’t find him attractive anymore. Bill was getting fat and would get fatter… That thought alone was depressing, and he curled up tighter, suddenly crestfallen.

~*~

Gustav looked up at the knock on his door and frowned, pulling his towel closer and opening the door a crack. “Georg? What’s wrong?”

“You tell me.” He pushed the door open and closed it behind him. “Why have you been avoiding me?”

“I’m not avoiding you.” Gustav said calmly, contrary to the virtual hailstorm he felt inside.

“Bullshit. I thought you never lied to me?”

Shit. The drummer sighed and looked at his friend warily. “Because I don’t want you to hate me?”

“Funny, you’re behaving like you want just that.” Georg rolled his eyes and sighed. “What about last night makes you think I hate you?”

“I kissed you and then I ran away like a two year old! I didn’t even ask to kiss you first!” He blurted out.

Georg looked at him strangely. “Do you usually ask women before you kiss them?”

“No!”

“Well, why would you ask me?”

“…that’s different.”

“You’re right.” Georg nodded, leaning against the door as he tried to ignore the fact that Gustav was clad in only a towel. “I don’t want you to treat me like a woman. I just… want you to be straight up with me. And another thing, you didn’t kiss me. I kissed you.”

“…You did?” Gustav didn’t remember much about the kiss, just lips and the fact that he liked it a lot. The exact details were a tad fuzzy.

“Yes, I did. So stop feeling guilty okay? I’ve wanted to do that for some time.” He admitted. Gustav looked at him and beamed. “You really should smile more. It’s breathtaking.” The drummer blushed redder than a tomato, much to Georg’s delight.

“Look, I… I don’t know what this is.” He said honestly, motioning between the two of them. “I think I’ve had a crush on you for some time.”

“A crush… What is it now?”

“I think it’s still a crush, but I’m not sure.” Georg nodded and shrugged.

“Well, I’m not asking for your hand in marriage, so don’t feel pressured to figure out what this is. I’m not looking for anything serious, okay?”

“That’s fine.” Gustav nodded quickly, and Georg grinned at him.

“Besides, I would miss being able to pick up women with you, unless you’re coming out of the closet?”

“No! I mean… I don’t think I’ve liked another man besides you.” Gustav thought he was going to sink into the ground from embarrassment.

“I get it. I’m pretty awesome, aren’t I?” Georg joked.

Gustav shrugged and looked down. “Yeah, I guess.” The air became a bit tense and Georg pushed off of the door to stand in front of the blond, pushing his chin up with his hand, looking into his eyes. “You have very nice eyes.” He said spontaneously.

“Thank you. So do you.” Georg smiled and pressed a kiss against the shorter man’s mouth, gently nudging the lips open with his tongue. The kiss was slow and unsure, but he let Gustav control everything, resisting the urge to pull him closer and truly devour him. He pulled away so he could keep his resolve and was pleased to see his friend still had his eyes closed, head tilted just the way he had it. “Good night Gustav.” Georg used the voice that reached down spines and chased away all objections, exiting before Gustav opened his eyes.

Gustav swallowed and opened his eyes, shivering. He couldn’t help but wonder if Georg could get him hard from just a kiss, what else could he do with his mouth?

~*~

Bill opened his eyes and blinked. He hadn’t realized he fell asleep. The last thing he remembered was talking to Tom. When he rolled over he sighed.

Alone again.

Author's Chapter Notes:

We'll find out, won't we?

“Then she shouldn’t have left them out.” Tom reasoned, handing one to Bill. He had to agree, and accepted the blue frosted confection eagerly. They loved cupcakes, and were delighted to find a whole plate of them sitting on the kitchen table when they arrived home that afternoon. Bill slowly peeled the paper away from the small cake, intent on pulling it away whole. “Mom and Gordon say they’ll be out late tonight. They had that thing at the gallery.”

“That was tonight?” He asked, turning the desert around in his hand to continue his work.

“Guess so. Man, practice kicked my ass today.” Tom pulled out a chair and sat down next to the cupcakes, throwing away the wrapper from his first one and reaching for another. “The chord progression sounds awkward.”

“You’ll get it.” Bill replied absently, finally freeing the sugary goodness from its prison. Tom just grunted and pried the paper away quickly before biting in. “How do you just do that?”

“Do what?” Tom asked with mouth full of cupcake.

“Just… bite into it.”

“It’s a cupcake, not a rocket. I don’t need to think about it.”

“You should try and savor it.” Bill pouted, licking off a bit of frosting hanging on the side.

“You should just dive in and enjoy it. You obsess about the weirdest things…” Tom looked at his brother strangely, and before Bill could prepare his twin shoved the dessert onto his quickly closed mouth. Blue frosting was smeared across his lips and on his chin, and Bill gasped angrily as he moved away.

“What the fuck Tom?” He asked, eyes narrowed at his twin doubled over in laughter. “I was going to eat that!”

“Looks like you already started!” Tom gasped out, his laughter cut short as he almost dropped his cupcake.

“Come here Tom…” Bill smiled evilly, not bothering to wipe off the frosting and bits of cake from his lips. Tom stilled, looking at him with a curious expression. He walked up to him, surprised that he hadn’t run away. “I’m going to smear icing all over you…” He expected the chase to begin, but his twin still didn’t move. “Why aren’t you running?”

Tom was staring at his lips, and leaned forward and licked a bit of frosting from them. Bill’s eyes widened and he gasped. “Maybe I don’t want to.” He said quietly, looking into Bill’s eyes. Bill opened his mouth and shut it, unable to find something worthwhile to say.

“Wha-” His words were cut off as Tom’s mouth landed on his, smearing the icing between them. When they finally pulled apart Bill was breathless and there was this look in Tom’s eyes that wasn’t letting him turn away.

“I’ve wanted to do that for a while.” Tom shrugged again. He had blue icing on his face now too, and Bill wondered if that marked him as his. “I know you’ve thought about it too.”

“You don’t know everything about me.” Bill said quickly, blushing at the statement.

“Yes I do.” Tom smiled.

“I thought you’d think I was weird.” He admitted.

“Bill, nothing that you do or say will make it so weird that I wouldn’t love you, okay?”

He woke up with tears streaming down his face, unable to recall the last time that memory emerged unbidden. Bill groaned and sat forward, rubbing his hands on his face trying to get rid of the moisture. The glance at the clock told him it was just after midnight and his stomach was growling. Room Service had ended just an hour ago and there was nothing in the minibar he could be talked into eating. Reaching for his phone, he dialed Saki and waited. “Hello Bill. What can I do for you?”

“I need to go to a grocery store, if you don’t mind.” Bill picked with a lint ball on his pajama pants and frowned at the silence on the other end.

“Can you get what you want from Room Service?”

“It’s closed for the night.”

“Can you be ready in five minutes?”

“Yes.” The call disconnected and Bill pulled the phone away to look at it briefly. Saki never seemed to get the idea of an ending salutation when on the phone. He got up and rifled around in his bags for something to wear, settling on a pair of jeans. He slid them up his legs and when Bill went to zip them up he met resistance. “You’ve got to be kidding…” Bill looked down at his stomach in disbelief. Sucking in his stomach he managed to get them zipped up and fastened, but for the first time he actually felt they were too tight.

It was uncomfortable and he undid them quickly, sighing with relief at being released.  This wasn’t going to work; how could he leave the room when he couldn’t zip up his pants? “I can’t fucking deal with this right now.” He said to the empty room, kicking one of his suitcases angrily. It didn’t fight back and that made Bill even angrier. He went into another bag and was thankful to come across one of Tom’s forgotten hoodies that he’d been carrying around for who knows how long. It was a simple, black and oversized. Perfect.

Bill pulled it on and went to look in the mirror. It fell to his thighs, totally hiding his stomach and the unfortunate fact that his pants weren’t fitting. In fact, he was practically swimming in it. He had just enough time to grab his bag and lace up his shoes when the knock came. Bill opened the door and smiled. “Hi, thanks for taking me.”

Saki nodded once, and then truly looked at the singer. He was slightly pale and looked like he’d been crying. He frowned. “Is everything alright Bill?”

“What? Sure.” Bill nodded, pulling on his sunglasses even though it was in the middle of the night. Saki frowned again and closed the hotel room door, following his charge to the elevators. He knew a defense mechanism when he saw it.

~*~

Tom stared out over Oslo with unseeing eyes. He couldn’t get to sleep; every time he closed his eyes he felt like he was shutting down. After he had left Bill Tom tried to take a shower and had a panic attack. He’d knocked his head against the wall and blacked out, and awoke a few seconds later gagging water up desperately. He just lay there, trying to get his bearings back, but as he clung to the side of the tub in fear Tom knew he couldn’t keep going on like this.

Sleep wasn’t an option; his brain was jumping all over the place and wouldn’t give him the luxury of sleep. He was on his fourth cigarette in about half an hour, the nicotine no longer easing his nerves. Tom snubbed it out in ashtray angrily, wondering why nothing brought him relief.

Maybe this was what it felt like to go insane. The walls were closing in and there was no one he could talk to. Gustav and Georg didn’t know the kid was his, and if he tried to talk to them without revealing his secret they would think he was overreacting.  Telling them wasn’t going to be possible, and asking his friends to keep yet another secret was out of the question.

Tom stood up, pulling on some clothes and shoving his feet into a random pair of shoes. He had to get out, right now. Pushing a cap on his head he took his key card and practically fled the empty room. He didn’t know what he was running from, but he knew he had to get out.

~*~

“You’re going to stay in the car, right?” Bill asked brightly, trying to take charge like Georg said. Saki looked back at him impassively, remaining silent.  “Great. I can go in alone. I shouldn’t be long.” He nodded once and got out of the car, groaning inwardly as the bodyguard followed him inside the store. Fine. He tried to ignore him as he went about his shopping, grabbing a cart and looking around.

The layout was a bit strange, but Bill got used to it as he stumbled across the candy isle. Candy was the same in all languages. He threw a couple of containers of gummi worms in the cart and a pack of miniature Twix caught his eye. Those were going in too.

As Bill walked around he opened a pack of gummi bears and chewed happily, his stomach calming and his mood following suit. He picked up some more pudding and a package of instant coffee. He didn’t like the stuff, but his body was going through caffeine withdrawal and that was that. Tom could bitch at him if he wanted to.

“Are you almost done?” Saki rumbled as Bill jumped. He’d almost forgotten he was there; being so wrapped up in his epicurean pursuits.  He looked down at his cart and thought for a moment.

“I need a tomato, and then we can go.”

~*~

Gustav yawned and shivered as a chill ran through his body unexpectedly. It was a free day today and they’d all made plans to hang out together and just relax. Everyone needed it and he was looking forward to kicking asses left and right in video games. This time he wouldn’t let Tom dominate by forcing everyone to play Guitar Hero. He knocked again and frowned. It was after noon and the guitarist should be awake by now since they didn’t go out the night previous. “Come on Tom…” He knocked again, this time harder. No response.

“I don’t think he’s in there.” He turned to see Georg frowning behind him. “I tried earlier, because we were going to go check out the breakfast in the restaurant downstairs. He didn’t answer his phone and he didn’t come to the door. That was about an hour and a half ago.”

“Did you check Bill’s room?” Gustav asked, moving down the hall towards the singer’s door. Georg shook his head as he followed him.

“You know I don’t like to wake up the Diva before three. He’d bite my head off, especially now.” He joked, earning a laugh from the other boy. The drummer shook his head and knocked as apologetically as he could.

“Bill.” He knocked again and looked up as the door swung open. Bill glared at the both of them sleepily, yawning hugely.

“What the fuck could you possibly want?” He asked, leaning against the door. Gustav’s eyes widened as he stared. Bill had neglected to close his robe, and he could see a distinct curve of breasts, and taken with the swell of his abdomen it finally hit him exactly what Bill being pregnant meant. Bill looked down at what he was gaping at and closed his robe, looking embarrassed. “Did you come to look or did you want something?”

Georg nudged him hard in the side and smiled. “We’re looking for Tom, is he in there?”

Bill yawned and shook his head, laughing mirthlessly. “No, he’s not in here.” He looked pained briefly before it was swallowed by indifference.

“He’s not in his room.” Gustav finally managed to jumpstart his brain again.

“Did you call him?”

“Of course we called him. He didn’t pick up.” The bassist had a bad feeling in the pit of his stomach. Bill shrugged again and invited them in, going over to the bed and sorting through the bunched up blanket looking for his phone.

The table was strewn with open pudding cups and half a wedged tomato. “Uh…Bill? What were you eating?” Gustav asked, grimacing.

“Nothing.” He replied hurriedly, picking up the comforter and shaking it.

“Dude, it looks like tomatoes and…” Georg picked up a broken box from the floor and read the label. “Strawberry pudding?”

“So?” Bill huffed and grabbed the phone where it had fallen off the bed, irritated that he thought it was still wrapped up in his covers.

“That’s just-”

“Then don’t eat it.” Bill snapped impatiently, annoyed at the Samy Deluxe ringtone. He didn’t normally mind it but it was getting on his nerves. Come to think of it everything that happened since he was so rudely awakened had irritated him. No answer. “He’s not picking up.” He pulled a keycard from the nightstand and handed it to Georg. “You can go look in his room. I’m going back to sleep.”

“Bill-” Gustav tried, but the singer raised his hand.

“I need to go back to sleep. Get out of my room.” Georg rolled his eyes and motioned for the drummer to follow him, both wincing at the force in which the door was slammed behind them.

“Wow.”

“Yeah. Those hormones must really be doing a number.” Georg said as they walked back down to Tom’s room.

“Did you see that?” Gustav said quietly.

“The tits?”

“Yeah.” He shivered. “It was weird.”

“Did you see the look on his face?” Georg asked as he swiped the card and pushed the door open. The room was dark and the bed unmade, but it was obvious that Tom was no longer there. Gustav looked around the room and shook his head.

“No, I didn’t.”

“You were making him feel weird.”

“It’s Bill with breasts. Right now, on the weirdness scale, that’s about a five.” Georg turned around the room one last time and laughed.

“I guess you’re… “He trailed off, pointing at the nightstand.

“Shit.”

~*~

For once Tom liked the fact he didn’t know where he was. There was something relaxing about sitting in some park he had no idea the name of, hours flying by as he watched the sun rise until it was almost directly above, watching people pass by during the lunch hours. He wondered at their lives, if they enjoyed their jobs half as much as he enjoyed his. If they had families they loved and loved them in return.

The wind picked up briefly and he zipped the hoodie up further, making sure his hood didn’t fall off. Tom let his mind wander and enjoyed his own bubble of silence. Inside the bubble there was no Tokio Hotel, no Jost screaming at his irresponsibility. There were no eyes he felt constantly watching him, judging him for loving his own brother, fucking him and keeping him as a lover. There was no Bill with his disappointed expression and growing stomach, testament to the illegal and illicit activities they did together…