Long fic: Filling in the Blanks (6/?), Bill/Tom, R
Title: Filling in the Blanks
Author: littlemrstom
Pairing(s): Tom/Bill
Rating: R
Warnings: Adult content, Drug Use, Twincest
Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction; I own nothing but the plot.
Summary: After discovering a potentially dangerous problem following a traumatic car crash, Bill Trumper is left with only one option; a blood transfusion. Unfortunately for him, only a handful of people in the country have the same blood type, one of those people being his twin.
His twin who... doesn’t even know he exists.
Author's notes: Everyone give cookies to hysterichotel for helping me with the summary, and to ninaelisabeth for giving me the beautiful banner <3 I also promise that this fic is not gross or based around medical things, and no one is permanently hurt.
Previous Chapters: Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4, Chapter 5
The door clicks behind Bill as he cautiously closes it, not wanting to disturb Tom, who was still asleep in his room when he and his mother left for the hospital a couple of hours previously. He lifts the handle and locks it, before running a hand through his hair as he walks towards the kitchen. Simone has already disappeared upstairs to put her bag and coat away, and Bill’s stomach is making funny noises, letting him know that he actually needs to eat something today.
Kicking off his shoes as he goes, Bill pads across the carpet in his socked feet towards the kitchen, watching the floor as he moves.
“Morning, Bill.”
Bill nearly jumps out of his skin. His head snaps up, cricking his neck, and his eyes go wide in surprise. “Oh!” he breathes, startled. “Tom. I didn’t see you there!” He stops where he stood and leans against the door frame, sucking in a deep lungful of air. “You scared me.”
“Sorry,” Tom says immediately, stepping forward to make sure Bill is alright. “I didn’t mean to surprise you. Are you okay?”
Nodding, Bill takes a seat at the table. “Yeah, I’m fine. I thought you would still be in bed, is all.” He gives a small laugh and watches as Tom shuffles closer to the table, somewhat awkwardly.
“Do you want anything?” Tom asks.
Bill shakes his head and makes to stand up again. “No, it’s fine; don’t be silly, I’ll do it.” He gives Tom a small, weak smile but Tom stops him with a hand to his shoulder and a raised eyebrow. “Fine, I just want some cereal and juice, please. Oh, and my medication. It’s on the side. Thanks, Tom,” Bill says quietly, and sits back in his chair as Tom busies himself carrying out Bill’s requests.
Unable to resist, Bill smiles at Tom’s broad back. It feels strange to have Tom making his breakfast because it’s only been a day since he and Tom met, and only the space of about twelve hours since they actually spoke for the first time. Tom had come into his room the night before, which had both terrified and comforted Bill, because it let him know that the want he felt to get to know his brother wasn’t just one-sided. Tom had approached him, and Bill had done his best to let him in, until he’d begun to fall asleep, anyway. It had made Bill happy, though, and that’s what he was mainly focusing on.
“Here you go,” Tom says a few minutes later, breaking Bill out of his small reverie-like state. He blinks up at Tom and thanks him politely, watching as Tom takes the seat opposite him. Bill takes a sip of his juice and grimaces as he swallows his palmful of pills. “Where did you go this morning?” Tom asks after a moment, tugging on a stray dreadlock that is hanging in front of his face. “I woke up and no one was here.”
“Hospital appointment. We didn’t tell you because we thought you’d sleep through it,” Bill answers through a mouth of cereal. A droplet of milk spills out onto his lip and Tom chuckles at him in amusement as Bill pokes his tongue out to lap it up. “Oops.”
“How did it go?” is Tom’s next question. He doesn’t really know much about Bill’s condition other than what Simone has told him briefly, and he doesn’t want to pry either, but he’s curious. “Is everything… okay?”
Shrugging, Bill takes another bite and swallows it before answering this time. “Eh, it could be worse. They still haven’t found a donor and I could really use one.” Bill’s face droops as he looks at Tom over the top of his glass of juice. Tom is silent, just looking at Bill with a sombre expression on his face, and it’s like Bill can see the cogs whirring inside his brain. “But that was about it,” Bill finishes, draining his glass. “Kinda pointless, really.”
“Yeah,” Tom comments, though his voice is a little distant, thinking. “Pointless.”
--
The television is playing quietly in the front room, images flashing and bouncing off the walls. There are two bodies on the sofa facing it; one is wrapped up in the action playing on the screen, while the other is watching the first, watching the screen. Simone is upstairs with Gordon, and the house is pretty quiet, save for a low hum of dialogue between the characters.
“What actually is this film?” Tom asks slowly from one end of the sofa, where he’s sat with his feet resting out in front of him on a small, makeshift footstool. His arms are crossed over his chest, his arms lost in the mass of material that he calls a hoodie, and his dreadlocks are loose around his face, hanging randomly over his shoulders. “Is that Kate Winslet?”
Bill turns to look at Tom, a look of sheer horror on his face. “Are you kidding?” he asks, looking slightly gobsmacked. “You’ve never seen Titanic?”
Tom purses his lips and pulls a face, which obviously means ‘no’. Bill’s jaw drops and Tom just shrugs, looking nonchalant. “I don’t think I’ve ever met anyone in my entire lifetime who has never seen Titanic.”
“Well, now you have.” Tom grins over at Bill, sat at the opposite end of the sofa to him. Bill is dressed in only a ratty pair of sweat pants and a small t-shirt, with an even smaller hoodie over it. He looks soft and young with his bare, somewhat gaunt face. “Are you gonna watch it with me?”
Tom glances at the television screen, pretending to weigh up his options, before he shoots Bill a look and makes a show of relaxing back into the sofa cushions. Bill returns his smile and stifles a yawn with the back of his hand, mirroring Tom’s actions and leaning back onto the couch.
Only a moment later, Bill scoffs and turns his head to look at Tom, his attention leaving the screen momentarily. “I can’t get over the fact you’ve not seen it,” he breathes amusedly. “Everyone has seen Titanic.”
“Except me,” Tom chuckles. “You know, I’m surprised I haven’t now I know that Kate Winslet is in it. I think I love her a little bit.”
Bill’s face crinkles as he laughs silently, laughter lines curving around his eyes. “So you’re a Kate Winslet fan then?” he muses, his eyes darting back to the screen. He sees Tom nod out of the corner of his eye and he smirks, knowing what will happen next in the film.
“You could say that. Why?”
“Watch it,” Bill instructs knowingly, his voice tainted with secrecy. “You’ll like the next part.”
Tom looks at him sceptically as he averts his vision back to the screen. It’s the drawing scene and Tom’s jaw drops open a little. Bill chuckles quietly and stifles another yawn. “Told you you’d like it.”
“Oh. See, if someone had told me that was in it, I’d have seen this film a looong time ago.” He pauses. “Is there any more of that?”
Bill thinks for a moment. “Kind of. I guess you’re gonna watch it with me after that, then?”
Tom’s lips twist up into a lopsided grin. “So long as you don’t mind.”
“Oh, not at all!” Bill answers quickly, sitting up and looking at Tom. “No, no, it’s fine.” He yawns a third time and his eyes begin to water at the corners. “Damnit,” he mumbles, wiping at the stray tears that escape. “I’m not crying,” he’s quick to state. “Just so you know.” He laughs quietly. “Although I might do at the end, if I make it that far.” Another yawn.
“Are you sure you’re gonna be able to stay awake?” Tom asks with concern. “We could record it and watch it tomorrow?”
Bill shakes his head. “I’ll manage.” He shuffles around on the sofa, subconsciously moving closer to Tom. Their thighs brush but neither of them notices as they lean their heads back against the cushions and settle into the film.
A few minutes later, Tom feels a pressure on his arm. He looks down carefully and sees Bill, who has slipped down the sofa. He’s sleeping softly, his mouth open slightly and his eyelashes flickering. Tom smiles faintly and makes sure not to move, turning his eyes back to the television. The boat is sinking and everyone is screaming, so he guesses there isn’t much left. He could just turn it off now, he supposes, seeing as Bill is asleep, but for some reason, probably because he told Bill he’d watch it with him, he doesn’t. Instead, he settles back again and watches until the end.
Tom blinks a few times as the credits begin to scroll up the screen. Bill is still asleep on his shoulder, his breathing low and steady, his face completely free of any signs of worry.
Being careful not to stir Bill, Tom reaches out and grabs the television remote, flicking it off and plunging the room into complete darkness, save for the time flashing on the DVD player underneath the screen. After a moment, it’s Tom’s turn to yawn, and he covers his mouth with his palm to try and suppress the noise. He should really go to bed, he thinks, because the time on the DVD player reads that it’s way past midnight.
He gently reaches out a hand and places it on Bill’s shoulder. Bill’s body is warm under his touch and he stirs, his eyes barely opening before they shut again and he shuffles. In his sleep, Bill boosts himself up so that his head rests on Tom’s shoulder, and his arm comes up to balance on Tom’s chest, cuddling closer in his unconscious state.
Tom smiles fondly into the dark and drops his arm from Bill’s shoulder. He can’t wake him up now; he doesn’t have the heart to disturb him. Sighing quietly, he kicks his feet up again, rearranging himself as best as he can on the couch and moving into a moderately comfortable position, closing his eyes as he does so.
He’s pretty sure their backs are going to regret it in the morning, but it isn’t long before sleep takes over him and it’s too late to change his mind.
Author: littlemrstom
Pairing(s): Tom/Bill
Rating: R
Warnings: Adult content, Drug Use, Twincest
Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction; I own nothing but the plot.
Summary: After discovering a potentially dangerous problem following a traumatic car crash, Bill Trumper is left with only one option; a blood transfusion. Unfortunately for him, only a handful of people in the country have the same blood type, one of those people being his twin.
His twin who... doesn’t even know he exists.
Author's notes: Everyone give cookies to hysterichotel for helping me with the summary, and to ninaelisabeth for giving me the beautiful banner <3 I also promise that this fic is not gross or based around medical things, and no one is permanently hurt.
Previous Chapters: Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4, Chapter 5
The door clicks behind Bill as he cautiously closes it, not wanting to disturb Tom, who was still asleep in his room when he and his mother left for the hospital a couple of hours previously. He lifts the handle and locks it, before running a hand through his hair as he walks towards the kitchen. Simone has already disappeared upstairs to put her bag and coat away, and Bill’s stomach is making funny noises, letting him know that he actually needs to eat something today.
Kicking off his shoes as he goes, Bill pads across the carpet in his socked feet towards the kitchen, watching the floor as he moves.
“Morning, Bill.”
Bill nearly jumps out of his skin. His head snaps up, cricking his neck, and his eyes go wide in surprise. “Oh!” he breathes, startled. “Tom. I didn’t see you there!” He stops where he stood and leans against the door frame, sucking in a deep lungful of air. “You scared me.”
“Sorry,” Tom says immediately, stepping forward to make sure Bill is alright. “I didn’t mean to surprise you. Are you okay?”
Nodding, Bill takes a seat at the table. “Yeah, I’m fine. I thought you would still be in bed, is all.” He gives a small laugh and watches as Tom shuffles closer to the table, somewhat awkwardly.
“Do you want anything?” Tom asks.
Bill shakes his head and makes to stand up again. “No, it’s fine; don’t be silly, I’ll do it.” He gives Tom a small, weak smile but Tom stops him with a hand to his shoulder and a raised eyebrow. “Fine, I just want some cereal and juice, please. Oh, and my medication. It’s on the side. Thanks, Tom,” Bill says quietly, and sits back in his chair as Tom busies himself carrying out Bill’s requests.
Unable to resist, Bill smiles at Tom’s broad back. It feels strange to have Tom making his breakfast because it’s only been a day since he and Tom met, and only the space of about twelve hours since they actually spoke for the first time. Tom had come into his room the night before, which had both terrified and comforted Bill, because it let him know that the want he felt to get to know his brother wasn’t just one-sided. Tom had approached him, and Bill had done his best to let him in, until he’d begun to fall asleep, anyway. It had made Bill happy, though, and that’s what he was mainly focusing on.
“Here you go,” Tom says a few minutes later, breaking Bill out of his small reverie-like state. He blinks up at Tom and thanks him politely, watching as Tom takes the seat opposite him. Bill takes a sip of his juice and grimaces as he swallows his palmful of pills. “Where did you go this morning?” Tom asks after a moment, tugging on a stray dreadlock that is hanging in front of his face. “I woke up and no one was here.”
“Hospital appointment. We didn’t tell you because we thought you’d sleep through it,” Bill answers through a mouth of cereal. A droplet of milk spills out onto his lip and Tom chuckles at him in amusement as Bill pokes his tongue out to lap it up. “Oops.”
“How did it go?” is Tom’s next question. He doesn’t really know much about Bill’s condition other than what Simone has told him briefly, and he doesn’t want to pry either, but he’s curious. “Is everything… okay?”
Shrugging, Bill takes another bite and swallows it before answering this time. “Eh, it could be worse. They still haven’t found a donor and I could really use one.” Bill’s face droops as he looks at Tom over the top of his glass of juice. Tom is silent, just looking at Bill with a sombre expression on his face, and it’s like Bill can see the cogs whirring inside his brain. “But that was about it,” Bill finishes, draining his glass. “Kinda pointless, really.”
“Yeah,” Tom comments, though his voice is a little distant, thinking. “Pointless.”
--
The television is playing quietly in the front room, images flashing and bouncing off the walls. There are two bodies on the sofa facing it; one is wrapped up in the action playing on the screen, while the other is watching the first, watching the screen. Simone is upstairs with Gordon, and the house is pretty quiet, save for a low hum of dialogue between the characters.
“What actually is this film?” Tom asks slowly from one end of the sofa, where he’s sat with his feet resting out in front of him on a small, makeshift footstool. His arms are crossed over his chest, his arms lost in the mass of material that he calls a hoodie, and his dreadlocks are loose around his face, hanging randomly over his shoulders. “Is that Kate Winslet?”
Bill turns to look at Tom, a look of sheer horror on his face. “Are you kidding?” he asks, looking slightly gobsmacked. “You’ve never seen Titanic?”
Tom purses his lips and pulls a face, which obviously means ‘no’. Bill’s jaw drops and Tom just shrugs, looking nonchalant. “I don’t think I’ve ever met anyone in my entire lifetime who has never seen Titanic.”
“Well, now you have.” Tom grins over at Bill, sat at the opposite end of the sofa to him. Bill is dressed in only a ratty pair of sweat pants and a small t-shirt, with an even smaller hoodie over it. He looks soft and young with his bare, somewhat gaunt face. “Are you gonna watch it with me?”
Tom glances at the television screen, pretending to weigh up his options, before he shoots Bill a look and makes a show of relaxing back into the sofa cushions. Bill returns his smile and stifles a yawn with the back of his hand, mirroring Tom’s actions and leaning back onto the couch.
Only a moment later, Bill scoffs and turns his head to look at Tom, his attention leaving the screen momentarily. “I can’t get over the fact you’ve not seen it,” he breathes amusedly. “Everyone has seen Titanic.”
“Except me,” Tom chuckles. “You know, I’m surprised I haven’t now I know that Kate Winslet is in it. I think I love her a little bit.”
Bill’s face crinkles as he laughs silently, laughter lines curving around his eyes. “So you’re a Kate Winslet fan then?” he muses, his eyes darting back to the screen. He sees Tom nod out of the corner of his eye and he smirks, knowing what will happen next in the film.
“You could say that. Why?”
“Watch it,” Bill instructs knowingly, his voice tainted with secrecy. “You’ll like the next part.”
Tom looks at him sceptically as he averts his vision back to the screen. It’s the drawing scene and Tom’s jaw drops open a little. Bill chuckles quietly and stifles another yawn. “Told you you’d like it.”
“Oh. See, if someone had told me that was in it, I’d have seen this film a looong time ago.” He pauses. “Is there any more of that?”
Bill thinks for a moment. “Kind of. I guess you’re gonna watch it with me after that, then?”
Tom’s lips twist up into a lopsided grin. “So long as you don’t mind.”
“Oh, not at all!” Bill answers quickly, sitting up and looking at Tom. “No, no, it’s fine.” He yawns a third time and his eyes begin to water at the corners. “Damnit,” he mumbles, wiping at the stray tears that escape. “I’m not crying,” he’s quick to state. “Just so you know.” He laughs quietly. “Although I might do at the end, if I make it that far.” Another yawn.
“Are you sure you’re gonna be able to stay awake?” Tom asks with concern. “We could record it and watch it tomorrow?”
Bill shakes his head. “I’ll manage.” He shuffles around on the sofa, subconsciously moving closer to Tom. Their thighs brush but neither of them notices as they lean their heads back against the cushions and settle into the film.
A few minutes later, Tom feels a pressure on his arm. He looks down carefully and sees Bill, who has slipped down the sofa. He’s sleeping softly, his mouth open slightly and his eyelashes flickering. Tom smiles faintly and makes sure not to move, turning his eyes back to the television. The boat is sinking and everyone is screaming, so he guesses there isn’t much left. He could just turn it off now, he supposes, seeing as Bill is asleep, but for some reason, probably because he told Bill he’d watch it with him, he doesn’t. Instead, he settles back again and watches until the end.
Tom blinks a few times as the credits begin to scroll up the screen. Bill is still asleep on his shoulder, his breathing low and steady, his face completely free of any signs of worry.
Being careful not to stir Bill, Tom reaches out and grabs the television remote, flicking it off and plunging the room into complete darkness, save for the time flashing on the DVD player underneath the screen. After a moment, it’s Tom’s turn to yawn, and he covers his mouth with his palm to try and suppress the noise. He should really go to bed, he thinks, because the time on the DVD player reads that it’s way past midnight.
He gently reaches out a hand and places it on Bill’s shoulder. Bill’s body is warm under his touch and he stirs, his eyes barely opening before they shut again and he shuffles. In his sleep, Bill boosts himself up so that his head rests on Tom’s shoulder, and his arm comes up to balance on Tom’s chest, cuddling closer in his unconscious state.
Tom smiles fondly into the dark and drops his arm from Bill’s shoulder. He can’t wake him up now; he doesn’t have the heart to disturb him. Sighing quietly, he kicks his feet up again, rearranging himself as best as he can on the couch and moving into a moderately comfortable position, closing his eyes as he does so.
He’s pretty sure their backs are going to regret it in the morning, but it isn’t long before sleep takes over him and it’s too late to change his mind.