Special Needs [3/5]
Title: Special Needs
Author: elizabeth21r
Pairing(s): Tom/Bill
Rating: R
Disclaimer: I own nothing but the plot.
Warnings: OOC
Author's notes: I know this is a tricky subject and I might be horrible at describing it, so I'm sorry in advance. I was inspired by my little cousin who has been through a lot the last couple of years because of his disability. I dedicate this to him.
Thank you so so so much littlemrstom for the beta, I owe you ♥ Also, thanks to whoever offered me help with this short fic and of course, to every reader :) I'll be posting a chapter every other day so this will be completed by next week!
Banner made by chicaintcheap.
Summary:
"There are people out there who can see more than whether you can walk or not."
Bill hadn't met any of them in his nineteen years but Tom was determined to burst his bubble.
"So, any news from Tom?"
A new day had begun for the Kaulitz family and Bill was rubbing his eyes at the kitchen table, trying to wake up. Simone had just put a hot cup of filter coffee in front of him; Bill's favorite to start the day.
"No, Mom," Bill breathed, brief annoyance colouring his voice. "Can I please enjoy my coffee in peace?"
Simone rolled her eyes at her son from the opposite side of the table, and then grabbed a muffin.
Truth was that Bill didn't want to discuss much about Tom and he generally didn't seem eager to do stuff for some time. Tom had almost disappeared from his life in the past two and a half weeks since they texted that night. Since the day they almost kissed.
Bill took a sip of coffee and opened his eyes only to find his mother staring openly at him. "What do you want?" he asked her shortly.
"Bill," she began, taking a breath. "Did something happen with Tom?"
"No," he answered immediately, already pissed that she had mentioned Tom once again. "Nothing happened. I helped him with his exams, he got what he wanted and that was it." He frowned, his hands touching his back automatically while he tried taking deep breaths. "Oh God, it's killing me."
"You want a painkiller?"
"No." Bill’s hands lay on the table as he tried to straighten his back and align it on the back of his wheelchair. He was still experiencing back pains after all these years. "It's normal," the doctors used to tell his mother. "It will get better with surgery."
Bill gritted his teeth and tried to expel those memories from his mind; they only made him worse.
"Not a great morning for you, huh?" his mother asked some moments later.
"Yes, Mom, it is pretty obvious. Do you have to ask me about it?"
Simone watched her son, her eyes worried and questioning but never angry. She never got angry when he was uncomfortable; all she did was try to prevent that from even happening. She swallowed the last piece of her muffin and kept looking at Bill.
"Mom," Bill started, glaring at his mother, but when they locked gazes and he saw how Simone looked at him with pure interest and love, Bill let out a heavy sigh and his shoulders relaxed. "I'm sorry. I don't know what's wrong with me."
"Is it about Tom?" Simone asked.
"It's about everything," Bill answered.
Silent moments passed before Simone approached Bill and sat next to him. Her son kept his eyes glued on the wooden table, occasionally taking sips of his coffee.
"Bill..." she stopped, trying to find the right words."Some things simply don't have an explanation," she said, lowering her hand onto Bill's shoulder. "We've been through this before, right?"
"Yes," Bill said. "I'm not being dramatic. But some days are just... difficult."
Simone rubbed Bill's shoulders and moved her hands to his neck, trying to release the tension. "I understand, baby," she said, caressing his muscles to ease a bit of his pain. It always helped. "What you went through was very hard, for all of us. Imagine how guiltyI feel-"
"Mom!" Bill shouted, turning his head towards his mother. "Don't say that, you couldn't have known. It's not your fault, it's not our fault."
Smiling, Simone leaned towards Bill and kissed his cheek, resting her other hand on his face. Neither of them spoke for some moments, but Simone continued rubbing Bill's neck, helping his muscles relax. She was behind him now, and Bill had closed his eyes, enjoying the feeling.
"So?" she asked after a while. "Will you tell me what happened with Tom?"
Bill opened his eyes and stared at the ceiling, unable to hide the truth from his mother for much longer. They shared everything. "I don't really know," he began, taking a breath. "Everything was great, we talked a lot, we texted each other or chatted online. It was fun."
"And?" his mother asked impatiently. "What changed? Did you fight?"
"He tried to kiss me."
Simone's hands froze on her son's shoulders and she removed them completely. She sat next to him again and Bill turned his eyes towards her. She looked worried and confused, but her eyes were shining. "And?"
Bill lowered his face, staring at his arms. "And I didn't let him."
Simone breathed in. "You didn't want him to?"
"I don't know."
A faint laugh was heard from his mother's direction and Bill lifted his gaze, looking at her, confused. "That explains the way he left the other day," she said, smiling at the puzzled look on Bill's face. "Baby, do you have feelings for him?"
Bill swallowed with difficulty and looked at his hands again. "I honestly don't know," he breathed. "I don't know if I'm just glad I met him and we connected so much or if it's something more. I don't know if he feels anything other than sympathy for me. I don't know if he only finds me hot, I don't know anything, mom. I don't know why I miss him so much," he frowned, looking at his mother. All her attention was on him.
"I lied to him," he finally said. "Told him I've always been like this," he went on, pointing to his legs. "I didn't want him to pity me like everyone else."
"I figured," she replied. "I saw the pictures missing from your room." Simone took a deep breath and rested her hands on Bill's lap, squeezing his fingers in her fist. "Sweetheart, how many times have I told you to stop thinking like that? It's not something you should be ashamed of. If anything, it's something you should embrace. No one feels sorry for you," she said, caressing Bill's hair with her free hand. "Tom looked at you with such emotion and interest and it wasn't out of pity, Bill. Even I noticed and you know how blind I am with these kind of things; your poor father is a hero," she smiled. Bill smiled back. "You can't hide forever; you have to let someone in and stop being so suspicious. Not everyone is an asshole. There are people who can see more than whether you can walk or not."
Bill closed his eyes and rested his head on the back of his chair, taking a breath. His mother’s hold on his fingers didn't relax for a single second. "He disappeared after that day," he confessed, his eyes still closed. "And I'm kind of pissed, that's all."
Simone smiled and forced Bill to look at her. "He needs time," she told him, squeezing his arm again. "He needs to decide if it's worth it to insist, because judging by your mood and the way he left, things didn't work out at all."
Bill breathed out and shook his head. His mother approached him again and left a sweet kiss on his hair before getting up, and leaving the kitchen. "Let him have his time," she shouted back at Bill, before adding, "Jesus, you’ve made me so late for work!"
Bill just rolled his eyes at the door as a response, even if his mother never saw it. He licked his lips and grabbed his cup of coffee again, taking a generous sip. It was now cold but his back didn't hurt that badly and maybe he was in the right mood to meet his father this afternoon, as they had planned for that day.
~~
Warm smoke escaped his lips slowly and he was ready to suck it back in, if only his lungs weren't already full. Bill watched it disappear into the air of his room while the sound of his stereo accompanied him; it was like the smoke danced to the music's rhythm.
It was a rare occasion that he could find peace and smoke without his mother yelling at him for choosing to do so. He closed his eyes and took another drag of his small cigarette. It made his lips burn but he didn't stop sucking on it.
Suddenly, the music stopped and the lights of his room were on. Bill swallowed the smoke in his lungs, his eyes open wide. Fuck.
"Bill?" he heard his mother's voice, panting.
Why does this have to happen every time? he wondered. He turned towards his mother, trying to hide his cigarette behind the back of his wheelchair, but his eyes were full of guilt and he couldn't hold the smoke in his mouth anymore. With eyes wet from the effort, he let the smoke out through his nose and immediately started coughing.
"Bill!" his mother cried out, visibly shocked.
"Oh mom, please don't do this, I needed it-"
"Shut up, I don't care, Tom is here!"
Bill remained still for a while, taking in his mother's words. He was there; Tom was there after so long. Why? What the fuck did he want?
"What is he doing here?" Bill asked, taking a drag from his cigarette again despite his mother's presence. He needed it right then, he felt like he was freaking out and it wasn't like he could get up and pace around the room to relax.
His mother glared at him and walked towards the door. "How should I know? Wait, I'm letting him in-"
"No!" Bill yelled and quickly moved his wheelchair to his desk. "No wait," he said, making extreme efforts to gather all the pictures around the room. He knew it would turn out to be a stupid idea.
"Please, mom," he said, pleading with his mother with his eyes and reaching his hand out, pointing to the top shelve. "Please."
Simone let out an irritated sigh and finally walked towards Bill's desk, gathering all the pictures and grabbing the ones Bill already had in his hands. She threw all of them in a drawer and looked at her son. "I don't approve this," she said, her voice low. "You have to tell him the truth."
"I don't have to do anything," Bill snapped, fixing his hair while looking at the small mirror in front of him, right above the surface of his desk.
"Whatever," Simone rolled her eyes. "I'll let him in, don't screw this up!" she said, walking to the door. "As for this," she added, pointing to the now almost useless cigarette between Bill's fingers, "I'll scold you later!"
Bill already dreaded his mother's whining even though she was right. He could at least do it without hiding like a little boy. He rolled his chair to the stereo and switched it on again, trying to calm himself and breathe. He didn't want to look like an idiot to Tom. They hadn't seen each other for almost two months.
Some moments passed and Bill felt more relaxed by then, and once the door opened, he was doing better than he had thought. He didn't turn towards it; he didn't even bother to lower the volume of the music as he sat next to the stereo. He miserably tried to play deaf or pretend he was indifferent.
Bill felt goosebumps all over his body when he saw Tom's hand so close to his face, stretched as it was to reach the stereo. "Hi," he heard Tom say, his voice sweet and familiar and low.
He turned around with a vague expression on his face and looked at Tom, his left brow almost reaching the roots of his hair. "Oh hey," he said, trying to seem indifferent. "What’s up? Need my help with something else?"
Tom lowered his head and smiled. He kneeled in front of Bill and reached out towards him, a pretty bag rest in his hands. "I brought you this," he simply said.
Bill frowned, looking at Tom suspiciously. "What is it?"
"It's not a bomb," Tom replied, still smiling. "It's a gift. Something I got for you."
Bill held the same puzzled expression before saying, "I don't need gifts." But he didn't give the bag back to Tom; It's rude to return a gift, he told himself. His heart beating like crazy was the only proof of Bill's need to see what Tom had brought him.
He eventually opened the bag and when he grabbed its content, his hands were holding a large and heavy camera, a professional one with a huge lens and a million functions. Bill furrowed his brows even more and examined it, before his hands started to shake. Why would Tom do that?
"You like it?" Tom asked, looking at Bill with questioning eyes.
Bill let out a sigh and looked at Tom. "Yes, it's very nice," he said, his voice monotonous. "Although a bit useless. I don't need it anymore, I've already told you. But maybe you forgot since it was a long time ago."
Tom smiled again, looking at Bill straight in the eye. "Why are you doing this?"
"What?" Bill asked, almost shouted. "What am I doing? You disappeared all of a sudden, how is that my doing?"
Taking a deep breath, Tom was back on his feet walking across the room until he got to the bed. He sat on its surface and crossed his arms. "I was in England," he said. "For my degree. I got it."
Bill's eyes widened and he moved his chair towards his desk, leaving the camera on it. "Tom, that's wonderful," he said and sincerely felt happy for his friend. Friend?. Bill swallowed. "But still, you could’ve contacted me."
Tom smiled bitterly and looked back at Bill. "I didn't get the best of reactions from you," he said. "And I needed to think."
Think. "Well, took you long enough, right?" Bill asked, approaching the bed. Tom nodded.
"And?" Bill asked again. "What did you decide?"
They were almost face to face and Tom lifted his gaze, looking straight at Bill. "You missed me?" he asked, smiling slyly.
"Yes."
Tom was taken aback by the immediate response. "Good," he said. "I got the best feedback in the whole class, you know," he smiled wide, full of pride. "And all of that thanks to you. Everyone kept asking who that beautiful person was."
"Did you tell them I'm a cripple?" Bill asked drily.
Tom almost gasped and frowned hard. "What? Of course not. What kind of question is that?"
"The simple kind," Bill replied innocently. "Don't bite, I didn't mean to offend you."
"Ugh, Bill," Tom breathed, a look of despair slowly painting his face. "Is that how you'll be from now own? It’s annoying."
"Depends on your decision. You've been thinking for so long. What did you decide? Were two months enough? Maybe you need a couple more to be sure? Maybe a year would be good?"
Tom exhaled harshly and glared at Bill, before leaning towards him as much as he could and grabbing his face, connecting their lips. It was the first kiss Bill had had in years and even though it was strange, he couldn't just stay still and do nothing.
He wrapped his hands around Tom's neck and pressed their lips harder together, the sudden movement forced the wheelchair to roll slightly backwards. Tom opened his eyes for a moment and looked at the wheels, then put his hands in the arms of the chair in order to make it stop moving.
Closing his eyes again, he enjoyed Bill's sounds and the way his lips pressed against Tom’s own and his fingers touched the back of Tom’s neck.
Bill suddenly stopped, still grasping Tom's shoulders. Tom looked at him, dazed and drunk and happy. "Yeah, that's my decision. And no, I don't need another year."
Bill smiled, too, leaning towards Tom again. "Good," he commented, before kissing him again.
"You smoke?" the older one asked, stopping their kiss.
"Yes."
"But you told me you didn't."
"Well, I lied."
Tom smiled and kissed Bill deeply. He touched Bill's face and pushed him a little backwards, moving the chair and leaving a small space between Bill and the bed. Tom knelt and almost fell on Bill while he passionately kissed him.
"Tom," Bill said, making him stop. Tom looked at him patiently, waiting. His eyes sparkled with joy and Bill smiled. "Thanks for the gift," he finally said, lowering his head.
Tom grinned, kissing Bill's cheek. "You're such a bitch," he said, between kisses. "You almost hit me before."
They kept kissing for long, warm moments and Bill felt more alive than ever. His back didn't hurt at all, his head was empty and felt light; Tom tasted wonderful. Nothing could ruin this moment.
"Bill?"
Bill froze, his lips still and his eyes wide. Tom didn't move away from him at all, and kept kissing his cheek. "Stop," he whispered to Tom, but the latter didn't obey and simply kissed Bill's mouth again. "Tom!"
"Oh God, Bill, I'm sorry," Simone cried out from across the room. "It was so silent and I was worried something was wrong, I'm sorry."
"Do you have to always do that, mom, I've told you-"
"Hey, Mrs. Kaulitz," Tom smiled at her, removing one hand from Bill's face and greeting his mother. Bill looked at him shocked.
"Hi, honey," she simply said, before walking out adding, "Yeah so, I'll let you, uh, talk now."
When the door closed, both sides were full of smiles. Tom was smiling at Bill's pouting face while Simone was leaning her head against the wood, almost ready to scream from joy. She couldn't imagine a better way to improve her son's well being. That boy, Tom, was truly a blessing.
Author: elizabeth21r
Pairing(s): Tom/Bill
Rating: R
Disclaimer: I own nothing but the plot.
Warnings: OOC
Author's notes: I know this is a tricky subject and I might be horrible at describing it, so I'm sorry in advance. I was inspired by my little cousin who has been through a lot the last couple of years because of his disability. I dedicate this to him.
Thank you so so so much littlemrstom for the beta, I owe you ♥ Also, thanks to whoever offered me help with this short fic and of course, to every reader :) I'll be posting a chapter every other day so this will be completed by next week!
Banner made by chicaintcheap.
Summary:
"There are people out there who can see more than whether you can walk or not."
Bill hadn't met any of them in his nineteen years but Tom was determined to burst his bubble.
"So, any news from Tom?"
A new day had begun for the Kaulitz family and Bill was rubbing his eyes at the kitchen table, trying to wake up. Simone had just put a hot cup of filter coffee in front of him; Bill's favorite to start the day.
"No, Mom," Bill breathed, brief annoyance colouring his voice. "Can I please enjoy my coffee in peace?"
Simone rolled her eyes at her son from the opposite side of the table, and then grabbed a muffin.
Truth was that Bill didn't want to discuss much about Tom and he generally didn't seem eager to do stuff for some time. Tom had almost disappeared from his life in the past two and a half weeks since they texted that night. Since the day they almost kissed.
Bill took a sip of coffee and opened his eyes only to find his mother staring openly at him. "What do you want?" he asked her shortly.
"Bill," she began, taking a breath. "Did something happen with Tom?"
"No," he answered immediately, already pissed that she had mentioned Tom once again. "Nothing happened. I helped him with his exams, he got what he wanted and that was it." He frowned, his hands touching his back automatically while he tried taking deep breaths. "Oh God, it's killing me."
"You want a painkiller?"
"No." Bill’s hands lay on the table as he tried to straighten his back and align it on the back of his wheelchair. He was still experiencing back pains after all these years. "It's normal," the doctors used to tell his mother. "It will get better with surgery."
Bill gritted his teeth and tried to expel those memories from his mind; they only made him worse.
"Not a great morning for you, huh?" his mother asked some moments later.
"Yes, Mom, it is pretty obvious. Do you have to ask me about it?"
Simone watched her son, her eyes worried and questioning but never angry. She never got angry when he was uncomfortable; all she did was try to prevent that from even happening. She swallowed the last piece of her muffin and kept looking at Bill.
"Mom," Bill started, glaring at his mother, but when they locked gazes and he saw how Simone looked at him with pure interest and love, Bill let out a heavy sigh and his shoulders relaxed. "I'm sorry. I don't know what's wrong with me."
"Is it about Tom?" Simone asked.
"It's about everything," Bill answered.
Silent moments passed before Simone approached Bill and sat next to him. Her son kept his eyes glued on the wooden table, occasionally taking sips of his coffee.
"Bill..." she stopped, trying to find the right words."Some things simply don't have an explanation," she said, lowering her hand onto Bill's shoulder. "We've been through this before, right?"
"Yes," Bill said. "I'm not being dramatic. But some days are just... difficult."
Simone rubbed Bill's shoulders and moved her hands to his neck, trying to release the tension. "I understand, baby," she said, caressing his muscles to ease a bit of his pain. It always helped. "What you went through was very hard, for all of us. Imagine how guiltyI feel-"
"Mom!" Bill shouted, turning his head towards his mother. "Don't say that, you couldn't have known. It's not your fault, it's not our fault."
Smiling, Simone leaned towards Bill and kissed his cheek, resting her other hand on his face. Neither of them spoke for some moments, but Simone continued rubbing Bill's neck, helping his muscles relax. She was behind him now, and Bill had closed his eyes, enjoying the feeling.
"So?" she asked after a while. "Will you tell me what happened with Tom?"
Bill opened his eyes and stared at the ceiling, unable to hide the truth from his mother for much longer. They shared everything. "I don't really know," he began, taking a breath. "Everything was great, we talked a lot, we texted each other or chatted online. It was fun."
"And?" his mother asked impatiently. "What changed? Did you fight?"
"He tried to kiss me."
Simone's hands froze on her son's shoulders and she removed them completely. She sat next to him again and Bill turned his eyes towards her. She looked worried and confused, but her eyes were shining. "And?"
Bill lowered his face, staring at his arms. "And I didn't let him."
Simone breathed in. "You didn't want him to?"
"I don't know."
A faint laugh was heard from his mother's direction and Bill lifted his gaze, looking at her, confused. "That explains the way he left the other day," she said, smiling at the puzzled look on Bill's face. "Baby, do you have feelings for him?"
Bill swallowed with difficulty and looked at his hands again. "I honestly don't know," he breathed. "I don't know if I'm just glad I met him and we connected so much or if it's something more. I don't know if he feels anything other than sympathy for me. I don't know if he only finds me hot, I don't know anything, mom. I don't know why I miss him so much," he frowned, looking at his mother. All her attention was on him.
"I lied to him," he finally said. "Told him I've always been like this," he went on, pointing to his legs. "I didn't want him to pity me like everyone else."
"I figured," she replied. "I saw the pictures missing from your room." Simone took a deep breath and rested her hands on Bill's lap, squeezing his fingers in her fist. "Sweetheart, how many times have I told you to stop thinking like that? It's not something you should be ashamed of. If anything, it's something you should embrace. No one feels sorry for you," she said, caressing Bill's hair with her free hand. "Tom looked at you with such emotion and interest and it wasn't out of pity, Bill. Even I noticed and you know how blind I am with these kind of things; your poor father is a hero," she smiled. Bill smiled back. "You can't hide forever; you have to let someone in and stop being so suspicious. Not everyone is an asshole. There are people who can see more than whether you can walk or not."
Bill closed his eyes and rested his head on the back of his chair, taking a breath. His mother’s hold on his fingers didn't relax for a single second. "He disappeared after that day," he confessed, his eyes still closed. "And I'm kind of pissed, that's all."
Simone smiled and forced Bill to look at her. "He needs time," she told him, squeezing his arm again. "He needs to decide if it's worth it to insist, because judging by your mood and the way he left, things didn't work out at all."
Bill breathed out and shook his head. His mother approached him again and left a sweet kiss on his hair before getting up, and leaving the kitchen. "Let him have his time," she shouted back at Bill, before adding, "Jesus, you’ve made me so late for work!"
Bill just rolled his eyes at the door as a response, even if his mother never saw it. He licked his lips and grabbed his cup of coffee again, taking a generous sip. It was now cold but his back didn't hurt that badly and maybe he was in the right mood to meet his father this afternoon, as they had planned for that day.
~~
Warm smoke escaped his lips slowly and he was ready to suck it back in, if only his lungs weren't already full. Bill watched it disappear into the air of his room while the sound of his stereo accompanied him; it was like the smoke danced to the music's rhythm.
It was a rare occasion that he could find peace and smoke without his mother yelling at him for choosing to do so. He closed his eyes and took another drag of his small cigarette. It made his lips burn but he didn't stop sucking on it.
Suddenly, the music stopped and the lights of his room were on. Bill swallowed the smoke in his lungs, his eyes open wide. Fuck.
"Bill?" he heard his mother's voice, panting.
Why does this have to happen every time? he wondered. He turned towards his mother, trying to hide his cigarette behind the back of his wheelchair, but his eyes were full of guilt and he couldn't hold the smoke in his mouth anymore. With eyes wet from the effort, he let the smoke out through his nose and immediately started coughing.
"Bill!" his mother cried out, visibly shocked.
"Oh mom, please don't do this, I needed it-"
"Shut up, I don't care, Tom is here!"
Bill remained still for a while, taking in his mother's words. He was there; Tom was there after so long. Why? What the fuck did he want?
"What is he doing here?" Bill asked, taking a drag from his cigarette again despite his mother's presence. He needed it right then, he felt like he was freaking out and it wasn't like he could get up and pace around the room to relax.
His mother glared at him and walked towards the door. "How should I know? Wait, I'm letting him in-"
"No!" Bill yelled and quickly moved his wheelchair to his desk. "No wait," he said, making extreme efforts to gather all the pictures around the room. He knew it would turn out to be a stupid idea.
"Please, mom," he said, pleading with his mother with his eyes and reaching his hand out, pointing to the top shelve. "Please."
Simone let out an irritated sigh and finally walked towards Bill's desk, gathering all the pictures and grabbing the ones Bill already had in his hands. She threw all of them in a drawer and looked at her son. "I don't approve this," she said, her voice low. "You have to tell him the truth."
"I don't have to do anything," Bill snapped, fixing his hair while looking at the small mirror in front of him, right above the surface of his desk.
"Whatever," Simone rolled her eyes. "I'll let him in, don't screw this up!" she said, walking to the door. "As for this," she added, pointing to the now almost useless cigarette between Bill's fingers, "I'll scold you later!"
Bill already dreaded his mother's whining even though she was right. He could at least do it without hiding like a little boy. He rolled his chair to the stereo and switched it on again, trying to calm himself and breathe. He didn't want to look like an idiot to Tom. They hadn't seen each other for almost two months.
Some moments passed and Bill felt more relaxed by then, and once the door opened, he was doing better than he had thought. He didn't turn towards it; he didn't even bother to lower the volume of the music as he sat next to the stereo. He miserably tried to play deaf or pretend he was indifferent.
Bill felt goosebumps all over his body when he saw Tom's hand so close to his face, stretched as it was to reach the stereo. "Hi," he heard Tom say, his voice sweet and familiar and low.
He turned around with a vague expression on his face and looked at Tom, his left brow almost reaching the roots of his hair. "Oh hey," he said, trying to seem indifferent. "What’s up? Need my help with something else?"
Tom lowered his head and smiled. He kneeled in front of Bill and reached out towards him, a pretty bag rest in his hands. "I brought you this," he simply said.
Bill frowned, looking at Tom suspiciously. "What is it?"
"It's not a bomb," Tom replied, still smiling. "It's a gift. Something I got for you."
Bill held the same puzzled expression before saying, "I don't need gifts." But he didn't give the bag back to Tom; It's rude to return a gift, he told himself. His heart beating like crazy was the only proof of Bill's need to see what Tom had brought him.
He eventually opened the bag and when he grabbed its content, his hands were holding a large and heavy camera, a professional one with a huge lens and a million functions. Bill furrowed his brows even more and examined it, before his hands started to shake. Why would Tom do that?
"You like it?" Tom asked, looking at Bill with questioning eyes.
Bill let out a sigh and looked at Tom. "Yes, it's very nice," he said, his voice monotonous. "Although a bit useless. I don't need it anymore, I've already told you. But maybe you forgot since it was a long time ago."
Tom smiled again, looking at Bill straight in the eye. "Why are you doing this?"
"What?" Bill asked, almost shouted. "What am I doing? You disappeared all of a sudden, how is that my doing?"
Taking a deep breath, Tom was back on his feet walking across the room until he got to the bed. He sat on its surface and crossed his arms. "I was in England," he said. "For my degree. I got it."
Bill's eyes widened and he moved his chair towards his desk, leaving the camera on it. "Tom, that's wonderful," he said and sincerely felt happy for his friend. Friend?. Bill swallowed. "But still, you could’ve contacted me."
Tom smiled bitterly and looked back at Bill. "I didn't get the best of reactions from you," he said. "And I needed to think."
Think. "Well, took you long enough, right?" Bill asked, approaching the bed. Tom nodded.
"And?" Bill asked again. "What did you decide?"
They were almost face to face and Tom lifted his gaze, looking straight at Bill. "You missed me?" he asked, smiling slyly.
"Yes."
Tom was taken aback by the immediate response. "Good," he said. "I got the best feedback in the whole class, you know," he smiled wide, full of pride. "And all of that thanks to you. Everyone kept asking who that beautiful person was."
"Did you tell them I'm a cripple?" Bill asked drily.
Tom almost gasped and frowned hard. "What? Of course not. What kind of question is that?"
"The simple kind," Bill replied innocently. "Don't bite, I didn't mean to offend you."
"Ugh, Bill," Tom breathed, a look of despair slowly painting his face. "Is that how you'll be from now own? It’s annoying."
"Depends on your decision. You've been thinking for so long. What did you decide? Were two months enough? Maybe you need a couple more to be sure? Maybe a year would be good?"
Tom exhaled harshly and glared at Bill, before leaning towards him as much as he could and grabbing his face, connecting their lips. It was the first kiss Bill had had in years and even though it was strange, he couldn't just stay still and do nothing.
He wrapped his hands around Tom's neck and pressed their lips harder together, the sudden movement forced the wheelchair to roll slightly backwards. Tom opened his eyes for a moment and looked at the wheels, then put his hands in the arms of the chair in order to make it stop moving.
Closing his eyes again, he enjoyed Bill's sounds and the way his lips pressed against Tom’s own and his fingers touched the back of Tom’s neck.
Bill suddenly stopped, still grasping Tom's shoulders. Tom looked at him, dazed and drunk and happy. "Yeah, that's my decision. And no, I don't need another year."
Bill smiled, too, leaning towards Tom again. "Good," he commented, before kissing him again.
"You smoke?" the older one asked, stopping their kiss.
"Yes."
"But you told me you didn't."
"Well, I lied."
Tom smiled and kissed Bill deeply. He touched Bill's face and pushed him a little backwards, moving the chair and leaving a small space between Bill and the bed. Tom knelt and almost fell on Bill while he passionately kissed him.
"Tom," Bill said, making him stop. Tom looked at him patiently, waiting. His eyes sparkled with joy and Bill smiled. "Thanks for the gift," he finally said, lowering his head.
Tom grinned, kissing Bill's cheek. "You're such a bitch," he said, between kisses. "You almost hit me before."
They kept kissing for long, warm moments and Bill felt more alive than ever. His back didn't hurt at all, his head was empty and felt light; Tom tasted wonderful. Nothing could ruin this moment.
"Bill?"
Bill froze, his lips still and his eyes wide. Tom didn't move away from him at all, and kept kissing his cheek. "Stop," he whispered to Tom, but the latter didn't obey and simply kissed Bill's mouth again. "Tom!"
"Oh God, Bill, I'm sorry," Simone cried out from across the room. "It was so silent and I was worried something was wrong, I'm sorry."
"Do you have to always do that, mom, I've told you-"
"Hey, Mrs. Kaulitz," Tom smiled at her, removing one hand from Bill's face and greeting his mother. Bill looked at him shocked.
"Hi, honey," she simply said, before walking out adding, "Yeah so, I'll let you, uh, talk now."
When the door closed, both sides were full of smiles. Tom was smiling at Bill's pouting face while Simone was leaning her head against the wood, almost ready to scream from joy. She couldn't imagine a better way to improve her son's well being. That boy, Tom, was truly a blessing.