Change [2/2]
Title: Change
Author: elizabeth21r
Pairing(s): Tom/Bill
Rating: R
Disclaimer: I own nothing but the words.
Summary: When a horrible argument goes too far, the twins find themselves separated and angry on New Year's Eve. Only a few hours away are enough to make them see.
Author's notes: Thanks to honey_x_flavor for the awesome banner. Unbetaed, all mistakes are mine.
See Previous Chapter
Bill definitely hadn't thought of celebrating New Year's Eve like that.
Wearing his pajamas and looking absolutely miserable, he walked to the couch holding a cup of hot coffee with one hand and the phone with the other. No, he had no intention of calling Tom; he hoped he wouldn't see him for a long long time until he came back begging for Bill to forgive him and Bill could rub the denial in his face. He felt fine, and sure, maybe he wouldn't celebrate the upcoming event with someone, but as people say there's no better company than your own self.
Bill sighed.
He let the cup on the table in front of him and laid his legs on the glassy surface, almost feeling the need to kick it just by thinking how much it would annoy his brother - Tom could be very annoying with that stuff. "Get your feet off the table, Bill," or "No food in the living room Bill, that's why we have a kitchen," or "Get your shoes off the floor Bill, there's a room for them." Bill glared at nothing and brought the phone right in front of his face, dialing his friend's number.
A few seconds later, he barely heard Andreas' voice above the music and chatting. It sounded like everyone was having lots of fun.
"Andi, hey," he said, his voice as natural as ever. "How is it going?"
"Oh, Bill, hi!" he heard his best friend's happy voice. "It's going great, people are already gathering here. How about you? Are you still getting ready?"
Bill lowered his eyes, as if Andi was right there in front of him and he couldn't stand to see him while saying these words. "Yeah, about that," he answered. "Um, I don't think we'll come tonight."
"What?" Bill could tell his friend's disappointment even through the phone. "Why Bill, what happened this time?"
Bill winced. "Nothing, we just got in a fight and yeah..." he stopped, hoping that Andreas would get the message.
"Yeah, Bill, and now what, you'll stay there on your own? And Tom?"
Groaning, Bill started picking on his nails, nervously moving his foot on the glass table in front of him. "Andi, I'm not in the mood for parties," he said, and he really didn't want to go there. At least not by himself. "As for Tom I don't know, he might show up since there's alcohol in the whole thing."
Andreas snorted loudly, as if he was trying to tell Bill that he didn't feel comfortable trash-talking about his other best friend. "Anyway Bill, I've got to go, they're waiting for me," he said, and Bill's face fell. "You can always come over if you want to, it's still early anyway."
Bill sighed. Again. "Ok, Andi."
"Oh, and Bill?"
"Aha?"
There was a brief pause before Andreas spoke again. "Happy new year, man."
Bill smiled. "Happy new year."
--
It took Tom quite some time to calm himself and stop driving towards any direction he could think of. A whole hour, to be precise. He didn't know where he was exactly but he knew how to get back home, not that he had any intention of doing that, of course.
Feeling calmer than before, Tom stopped the car and unbuckled his seatbelt, stretching his neck and body. He felt this huge weight tensing his shoulders and he knew that a couple of drinks could make him feel better. He wondered for a moment if Bill was right when he blamed him about that, if maybe he really couldn't find a more convenient way to deal with all the problems troubling his mind than drinking.
He shook those thoughts away. If he started thinking about Bill again, God knew where his car would lead him again.
Stepping out of the car, Tom took a moment to look at his cell phone, realizing with hidden disappointment that no, he had no calls from their mother or their best friend or even from home, not that he'd want something like that, of course not. He put his cell phone back in his packet, locked the car and started walking towards the first bar in his direction with slow, lazy movements.
It was a tiny place with very limited lighting and only three stools in front of the bar along with a couple of tables. Exactly the place Tom would have asked for in a situation like this. The room was empty and he felt relieved. He wouldn't want to feel people's eyes on him, judging as they were, while he supposedly tried to relax.
Truth was that lately Tom had a tiny problem concerning the way he expressed his feelings, at least as far as stalkers and fans and people he didn't know were concerned. That's why he wanted to have a calm and good relationship with his friends, his management, his family, with Bill. Not at all like the one he had at that time.
Tom wanted to bang his head against the wall. His great plan couldn't have gotten any worse.
He sat on one of the stools, waiting for someone to take his order. There wasn't anyone behind the bar and Tom wondered if the place wasn't really open and he was alone in there, until a woman appeared in front of him, chewing her gum noisily.
"Hey handsome," she said, winking at Tom. "I'm sorry but we were ready to close, you know, we have that New Year's party tonight."
Tom felt even more miserable than before. Everyone was ready to celebrate New Year's Eve, even he had been ready for that, but apparently he was the only one that wasn't going to. He lowered his head and decided that this wasn't his lucky night, again. He made a move to leave the bar.
"But you know what?" he heard the woman say, and he glanced up. "We still have a couple of hours until twelve, so it wouldn't harm anyone to have a drink, right?"
Tom's eyes lit up happily even if deep inside he knew he must have looked like a sad puppy to her. He made himself comfortable on the stool again, ordering his drink and taking a pack of cigarettes and a lighter off the pockets of his huge jacket.
The woman soon returned holding Tom's glass of vodka and another one for her. Lighting up his cigarette, he took a long drag and let the smoke work its magic, breathing it out slowly through his lips and nose. The strong taste of vodka burned his throat for a moment.
Looking around, he noticed the cheap decoration and the ugly frames on the walls, hoping that he didn't wince because the woman was still there with him. The music in there was awful too, even if Tom knew almost all the words to the songs. It was that kind of crap that Bill liked and Tom only listened for his brother's sake.
He took another sip from his glass.
"So?" he heard the woman, and turned his attention towards her. "What's up?"
Tom blinked at her confused. "Um, nothing much?"
The woman nodded chewing her gum a bit more, looking at Tom all the time, making him feel even more nervous. "Okay, it's pretty obvious you're in an awful mood."
Tom lowered his head and nervously touched the glass in his fist, taking another drag from his cigarette. "Is it that obvious?"
She nodded again. "This doesn't make sense!" she grinned, trying to make Tom feel better. "You're young, you're handsome, you're a star and you're sitting here with me, drinking cheap vodka," she added, taking a sip. "Seriously, handsome, what's up?"
Tom looked at her and wondered what was wrong with that woman. She knew who he was; she could also see he wasn't in a good mood. Why was she even talking to him? "I don't think that's any of your business, right?"
The woman snorted, raising one of her brows towards Tom, something that reminded him so much of his brother that he wanted to hit her. "Ooookay, Mr. Superstar," she said, sarcastically. "I just wanted to help, you know, in case you needed advice by the old and wise."
Tom hadn't even realized she was older than him, a lot older. He hadn't even noticed her. He hadn't checked the great body, the blond hair, the pretty face. A 90-year-old woman could have been back there and Tom wouldn't have seen any difference. "You're older?"
"Aha," she nodded. "Might be even more than a decade."
Feeling shocked, Tom stared at her as he put out his cigarette. He didn't know what to do or say. Sure, she was a complete stranger in her thirties working as a bartender but Tom needed to get things off his chest. He could talk to her without really talking about it. It wasn't that difficult to him since he was used to talking about Bill as "a girl," or "some chick," or "a very important person to me."
He put both arms on the counter, looking at her. "You don't seem that old," he smiled.
She got the message and relaxed, smiling herself. "I'm Emma," she said, reaching her hand out towards Tom. They shook hands and she sat on her own stool. "So, what's up?"
--
Bill's eyes started to drop. He felt exhausted, lying on the couch with his head resting on his arms. He kept flicking the channels on TV, unable to find something interesting. They all had special New Year's shows and it made him feel even more stupid, alone as he was, rubbing his naked eyes again and again.
Sighing tiredly, he picked up his cell phone and glanced at it. It was more than half an hour ago since he had ordered his pizza. Bill was hungry and there was nothing good enough for him in their fridge - or at least something that didn't require cooking. Bill couldn't even defrost a box of pizza, Tom was the one that always made food for both of them.
He desperately wanted to be somewhere else. Instead, he was stuck waiting and his mind kept wandering, which wasn't so wise when it came to Bill. He over-analyzed things so much that he ended up apologizing for incidents that might had happened years ago, recognizing mistakes that he might had never even made.
But not that time. That time, Tom had crossed the line, they exchanged harsh words and Bill felt as if he didn't know his brother anymore. As if they detached themselves so much and he hadn't realized when it happened, he hadn't even wanted it to happen.
He wanted to understand, what was the real problem. Was it the routine? Perhaps there was nothing else to do, or say? Maybe the lack of band-related activities made them so bored that they even grew tired of each other? Should he blame himself? All those times that Tom went out on his own, did all of that happen because of Bill? Had he gotten so far away from his brother in his failed attempts to change their relationship?
Bill recalled all those times when they couldn't stand to be apart for even an hour and felt his body shudder. Where did it go? There was no doubt that Tom was the most important person in his life, more important than his mother or his own self. Why did things turn out like that?
Bill was ready to throw the remote control on the screen once it started playing tributes about the romantic moments of New Year's Eve, with lovestoned couples holding hands and kissing under a Christmas tree. But when the doorbell rang, he felt strangely optimistic and almost fell in his attempt to both get up and arrange the loose pants of his pajamas. Had Tom returned home?
Opening the door with shining eyes, Bill frowned when he saw the delivery boy standing in front of him, holding a box of pizza. He felt his good mood vanish in the cold December air.
"It's been almost 45 minutes since I placed my order!" he almost shouted to the boy in front of him. "I could have starved waiting, you know."
The boy shrugged, looking strangely at Bill. "Well sorry, we have all those massive orders on New Year's since lots of people gather in one place, you know how it is with those parties," he apologized, definitely trying to relax the customer.
He only managed to do the exact opposite. Bill somehow detected a tingle of irony in his voice, and glared at him. "You think you're clever?" he asked, crossing his arms. "I might be alone but at least I'm not working on New Year's!"
The boy blinked. "Um, okay..." he said, puzzled, and before Bill had the chance to attack him again, he hurriedly added, "It's 10 euro."
Raising his eyebrow, Bill tried to grab the money from the pockets of his pants until he realized he was wearing fucking pajamas. How on earth did he open the door wearing that? He lowered his head and informed the boy he'd be back immediately, before closing the door and running up the stairs towards the bedroom.
The total chaos of their room greeted him once he opened the door, exactly how it always was when Tom was away from their home. Most of the times, Bill would deliberately create all this mess just to annoy his brother, but it really wasn't his intention this time. He was always unsure of what to wear whenever he had to go somewhere he didn't want to. Sighing, Bill crouched down, trying to remember where he had put his money the last time.
Three pairs of jeans later, Bill recognized the one he was wearing two days ago lying somewhere in the corner of the room. Walking quickly, he leaned down and rammed his hands in its pockets. Among lots of candy and gum - a bad habit that Bill had since his childhood - there was money and a couple of papers. He grabbed the money and threw everything else on the floor.
Turning around, Bill immediately stopped moving, his eyes glued to nowhere. He frowned and slowly looked back towards his jeans again. He crouched down once more, glaring at everything he threw away just seconds ago.
He reached out and grabbed a small, folded yellow paper. Bringing his hands towards his eyes, he unfolded the piece of paper and read it loudly.
"Buy a bottle of vodka for Andi. DO NOT FORGET IT."
"No!" he cried out, his eyes wide and confused towards the yellow paper. "No, no, no you shouldn't be here!"
Bill walked back and sat on his bed, frowning hard. "God," he kept saying over and over again, looking at the piece of paper in his hand and trying to remember. He could swear he had left it on the kitchen counter. He could almost even remember the sound of his bracelet hitting the cold surface when he left the note for his brother.
"I can't believe this," he breathed out, and rested his hand on his forehead, gently pushing it. No, he couldn't remember anything else than Tom's voice denying he had ever seen the stupid yellow little note. Bill sighed and lowered his head, glaring at his jeans.
The doorbell rang again and Bill heard the delivery boy complaining, something about other people waiting for their orders. He wasn't even hungry anymore.
--
"And I tried, I really tried to explain about the fucking note," Tom said, taking a sip of his second glass of vodka, "but no, no I couldn't! I just had to be wrong, you know?"
Emma rolled her eyes. "So you're saying you two got in a fight because of a bottle of vodka."
"No!" Tom shouted, "I'm trying to explain and that's what you got?"
Emma breathed out and lowered her elbows on the bar, resting her face in her palms. "How long have you been with that person?"
Tom lowered his head. "Long enough."
"Look, Tom," she began. "You have to realize that things can't always be bright, and nothing stays the same. People change, their habits change, their thoughts and needs. It's in our nature, unfortunately. When you're with someone, you can't expect everything to always be okay and never disagree or fight with them."
"But that's not the point," he answered. "It's been too long and all we do is fight over any little thing, no matter what I do it seems I'm doing it wrong and I always and up listening to all that whining. Things were never like that. And we're both very stubborn; we know each other too well. I believe I would've known if my person required something else from me, or grew tired of everything we do."
"Don't be so sure," she interrupted. "Wasn't that the reason she mentioned? That things have changed and you can't even see it?"
Tom shook his head. "No, no... She didn't mean it like that."
"And what did she mean?"
Tom's fingers started playing nervously on the bar, he couldn't even say those words, let alone believe they were true. It was so weird for him to talk like that about his relationship with Bill. "That things are not how they used to be, that our feelings have changed, that we..." he stopped for a moment, swallowing hard. "That we don't love each other like we used to."
"Jesus," Emma groaned. "You are so stubborn."
Tom frowned. "What?"
"It's obvious you're trying to get rid of all the responsibility and put the blame on her."
"What?" Tom cried out. "What responsibility? I didn't change a thing; I have the exact same behavior I always had!"
"But that's the problem! You can't just see that something's wrong and not do a thing about it. We're people, not robots. When you're not feeling well, don't you expect for someone to care about it, ask what's going on? At least show a bit of interest and recognize the fact that something's off. Especially in a relationship. Being your usual self all the time shows nothing but indifference."
Tom fixed his eyes hard on her, trying to understand how could she possibly figure out everything about their fight in only half an hour while Tom still couldn't quite get it. All those months that things kept going worse and worse Tom had never thought that maybe it was his own fault. He had only thought of Bill as his usual weird and demanding self that kept complaining, asking for more and more and more, stuff that Tom couldn't offer to him. And all Bill had wanted was his attention.
He lowered his head and raised his palms on his forehead. It made so much more sense now. The way Bill had been desperately trying to go out with him so they can talk, and how Tom had always ignored him, using the most ridiculous excuses. Bill had accused him for not caring, at least not as he used to, and he was wrong, so wrong. Of course Tom cared, but how could he explain now without admitting that he indeed hadn't realized how much things had changed?
"Look Tom," he heard Emma say, but still didn't lift his head from his hands. "Unfortunately, the more you grow up, the more you have to mature. You can't celebrate the same way or follow the same routine or ignore the consequences and do your thing. Even if you're a rockstar," she added, smiling.
"I know," Tom muttered between his hands. "I just always thought I would somehow know when that time would come."
"It's not your fault," she hurriedly reassured him. "At least not that part. And this whole thing is definitely not only your fault. Not all of us realize when it's time to start seeing things differently, that we're no longer 15 or 17. You shouldn't feel bad that you're still enjoying the same old things, but you should feel bad that you couldn't see that your person has changed."
Tom let out a heavy breath and slammed his empty glass on the bar. All he wanted was to go back home and sit with Bill, talk to him, sort things out like normal human beings, like a couple and not like stupid kids. He wanted to show him that he's sorry even if he hadn't ever seen that damn yellow paper, but how could he do it now?
Bill had screamed awful things at him and even though Tom took his brother's last words as the worst insult, it was the first time he ever laid an arm on him in such a way. Sure, they had fought and hit each other countless times in the past, but this was the first time Tom felt the need to hurt his brother so much, the first time Bill's words hurt him so much.
"What now?" he wondered aloud, not really waiting for a response.
Emma leaned forward, earning his attention. "I don't know how important that person is to you," she said, and Tom closed his eyes, trying hard not to hit himself. "It seems you care a lot. I know this will sound cliché but you can see the living proof right in front of you."
Tom looked up, puzzled.
"I'm 34 years old," she frowned. "I'm a bartender and I have no one in my life. I have friends of course, but I don't have my person, someone that will always wait for me back home even if it's just for a fight," she laughed, looking at Tom. "I don't have that. I don't even have a family. I'm not saying my life sucks, but that's how it always was. I've had my fair share of men but never someone important enough to make me open up to a stranger in a lousy bar."
Tom smiled back at her, feeling better and worse at the same time. He did have his person, both his lover and his family; he had exactly what he needed ever since he was created while others searched for it throughout their lives and never found it. He felt lucky he had Bill in his life and even though he already knew that, things had been so awful lately that he had found himself questioning his brother's significance in his life.
"All I'm trying to say is," Emma spoke up again, "that even though I will be partying in half an hour, I know that once I'm back home, I'll be sleeping in an empty bed."
Tom knew exactly what she was talking about. Smiling again, he leaned towards her and left a small kiss on her cheek, as if he wanted to thank her for spending one hour of her life with him.
--
"Well, here we are, it's almost midnight but we have a couple of minutes left. Right? Yeah we do, great. So we're in the twins' room now and this is Bill. Hi, Bill, what day is today?"
"Thursday."
"No silly! I mean what are we celebrating today?"
The room was dark and Bill was in such a state of nostalgia that he needed something to remind him of the beautiful, warm Christmas atmosphere. The only source of light in the house was coming from the TV screen and the Christmas tree. The box of pizza lay on the glass table untouched, along with a box of tissues. He hadn't watched those tapes in a long time, he didn't even remember those times when the Kaulitz family was still together, celebrating New Year's at their house.
Bill moves forward, his tiny hands try to touch the camera making Simone shake it a little in her hands. Bill's face covers the whole screen and he's being so unbelievably cute that she can't help but let him play with it for some seconds. Little Bill keeps touching the brand new family camera until his eyes change direction and his face lightens up even more.
"AAAH Tom!"
Bill sniffled a little, wiping his nose and dumping a tissue with tears that kept running down his cheeks. It was as if all the latest tension suddenly fell hard on him and made him lose control and break down. Breathing with difficulty, he kept watching the screen as his young self chased his tiny twin, trying to catch him but Tom didn't seem to cooperate. Bill didn't stop trying though.
"Tom, why won't you play with your brother?" Simone teases him, approaching the twins with her camera. Bill keeps smirking, reaching out towards the camera hesitantly but Simone draws back, smiling. Tom's face still holds a frown, and he doesn't look at the camera.
"Because he's boring!" Bill shouts, and raises his arms in the air out of nowhere, running to the other side of the room, almost crying and shouting that no one cares about him.
Bill's face broke into a grimace as he almost laughed at his young and extremely stubborn self. He still remembered countless times that he reacted that way when he was little, especially when Tom wasn't paying him any attention. He wondered how he made it all this time and didn't break down earlier.
He kept watching the screen, trying not to get bothered by the awful quality. Those were memories, and it didn't matter how awful they looked on their huge TV.
The camera focuses on Bill's pouty face and suddenly Tom appears out of nowhere, hugging his brother tight. Little Bill smiles and wraps his tiny arms around his brother's neck.
"Come on Bill, we don't have time for this!" Simone scolds him and Bill rubs his nose with the back of his palm while Tom looks at him worriedly, maybe trying to see if Bill is still mad at him even though he never actually was. Simone turns around and their father appears at the door, he's smiling wide. Bill runs towards him as Tom pouts again and stays still.
"Bill come sit next to your brother, it's time for the countdown! Run!" Simone laughs and little Bill runs towards Tom, both of them in front of the camera as they start counting backwards for New Year's Eve. Identical smiles shine on their faces.
"Eight, seven, six, five...
"...four, three, two, one," Bill whispered, his heart almost bursting when he saw himself and his brother sharing their very first kiss in front of their parents.
Bill had never forgotten this particular moment. It was one of the strongest memories of his childhood, not just because it was his first kiss with Tom, as innocent as it was. It was also the first time Bill got the smallest taste of how it is to give someone your love and support.
He wiped his eyes once again and switched off the TV before grabbing his cell phone to check the time and see if maybe it was past midnight. As he leaned towards the glass table, the apartment door opened and Bill turned shocked eyes towards it. Tom walked into the living room looking at his feet, leaving his keys on a small table next to the door quietly.
Bill tried hard to erase his mind and block every thought, every question. All he wanted was to live that moment and listen to his heart. Tom kept staring down and Bill could see that this was his way of showing he was sorry, of apologizing.
Bill didn't think, didn't care if Tom wanted it or not, didn't ponder over what's better or worse. He just did what his feelings screamed at him, and ran towards his brother, hugging him tight and almost crying in his hair.
"Shh...," Tom reassured him, feeling his own hands tremble from the sudden contact. Things had always been like that with Bill, electric, unsure, so intense that he often felt his knees abandon him and his fingers sweat in his palms, and it had been so long since they held each other and really wanted it. Tom buried his face in Bill's hair, smelled his skin, whispered apologies in his ear.
Bill shook his head so hard he almost hurt Tom in his arms. "No Tomi, don't," he said between sobs, looking at his face. "You can't always apologize, enough of this shit."
Tom frowned and patted Bill's cheek with his fingers, wiping away his warm tears. "But Bill," he said, his voice rough but gentle, "this time I have to-"
"No," Bill shook his head again. "No, it doesn't matter. You've had enough of my craziness and I swear I'll be good from now on. We'll do whatever you want but please don't go, please-"
"Bill, Bill!" Tom shook his shoulders. "Calm down okay? Calm down," he went on, touching his brother's hair, twirling his locks around his fingers. Bill's breathing relaxed, even though he still shook in Tom's arms.
"Just don't leave me," Bill said again, his movements determined as he leaned in and captured his brother's lips in maybe the strongest, most real kiss they had ever shared. There was no fight for dominance, no one wanted to play games or torture the other, Bill surrendered to his brother's will and Tom took advantage of that power.
They both stopped to breathe and Bill looked straight into Tom's eyes, ready to apologize a million times for all the awful things he had said to his brother.
"Don't say it," Tom warned him, raising his brows as he tightened his grip on his brother's arm. "It's gone, it's over. Okay?" he said again and again, so maybe that way Bill could get it in his head. "I'm ready okay? I'm ready to listen. Everything will be okay."
Tom wrapped his arms around his brother and Bill accepted the gesture with great pleasure, breathing through his nose and leaning his head on his brother's shoulder. He felt his body move to the couch but didn't bother opening his eyes. The feeling was too amazing to spoil it like that.
When he opened his eyes again, Tom was laying him on the couch, leaning over him and kissing his face, his eyes. God knew for how long they kept doing that, kissing each other's faces and lips, enjoying everything they've lost all those months, whispering pained apologies and hoping for each other's absolute trust. When they both relaxed, their bodies wrapped tight on a very small couch, Bill leaned forward, escaping from Tom's embrace just for a moment. He grabbed his cell phone, and finally realized that it was way past midnight.
"Tomi," he whispered, turning around and meeting Tom's tired but gentle face. Bill felt a strong tug in his chest, the same one he felt every single time he looked at Tom's face, and it was like his skin was going to rip open. His heart was on fire. "Happy New Year," he added, touching Tom's closed eyelids.
Tom exhaled soundly, his lips turned upwards in a small smile. He then tightened his arms around his brother's waist, leaning towards him and leaving a kiss on the spot where his neck met the back of his ear.
Bill smiled and breathed out loudly, trying to synchronize his breathing with Tom's. It had been so long since he had felt their bond and even the smallest thing could make him cherish it. Tom traveled his hand up and down Bill's back, from his neck to his hips, relaxing him until the younger twin fell asleep in his brother's embrace.
Tom knew there were so many things they needed to say and the idea terrified him more than anything else. He also knew though that their time had come, and he was ready for anything Bill had to tell him. They would work things out, as long as they were in the same page and they loved each other. Nothing else mattered.