Dear Santa... (Tom/Bill, PG-13)
Title: Dear Santa...
Author: strssna
Pairing(s): Bill/Tom
Rating: PG-13
Disclaimer: Everything in this world belongs to me.
Warnings: Twincest, fluff
Summary: Bill wants something for Christmas. Luckily Tom is good with computers.
Author's notes: Ho ho ho, here’s some silly Christmas fluff for thou! It might be a bit early, but I feel like I’m finally getting my groove back - I want to dedicate this to all you darlings for standing by me during my un-groovy moments ♥ I hope this brings jingle bells and candles to your heart : )
***
Tom couldn’t help but laugh when he lifted the carpet at their foyer, uncovering two envelopes on the floor. The two envelopes were so traditionally them, anyone could’ve spotted from miles away which one was Tom’s and which one was Bill’s. Bill’s envelope read ”Merry Christmas, Santa!” in handwriting that was probably the neatest he could do. Tom, he had written ”SC” in two graphic letters.
What Tom was doing at an early morning hour, peeking under carpets, was that he was fulfilling a Christmas tradition. Sure, maybe writing to Santa was ridiculous at the their age, but they had been doing it for as long as Tom could remember. A few years back, when they still lived with their mum, Simone had confided in Tom that she was the one who had always taken their envelopes, and that from now on, Tom should keep taking Bill’s. A little piece of Tom’s Christmas spirit had vanished at the very moment when he’d finally been told that there was no Santa, at least he didn’t visit them, but he was a grown up enough to know that Bill could not find out about it. So, loyally, every Christmas he went and got Bill’s letter to Santa from the usual place under the carpet in the foyer. And every year on Christmas eve morning, Bill would flail around with a child-like excitement of how Santa kept on remembering them. Tom figured it was ok for him to write too, he was entitled to more than one secret.
Bill was sound asleep upstairs as Tom sat down on the sofa, opening Bill’s letter. He smiled at Bill’s blatant lies of how good, and most importantly innocent, he had been this year, just like every year. His wish list was all very Bill-like, until Tom saw the last line.
"Dear Santa, please make Tom more romantic.”
***
Tom felt certain he was about to get a “Boyfriend of the year” -award. He was carrying a bag full of goodies that were sure to swoon Bill. Romantic, pfft, of course he could be! Lucky thing he had found the Real Woman-website, it had featured a great list of what women really wanted. Granted, Bill was no woman, but who know romance better than older women - Tom was sure he had taken the right advice from the website. Good thing he had become pretty good at surfing the web due to having to update his blog.
“Honey, I’m home!” Tom yelled from the door.
“Honey, I’m on the couch!” came a reply.
True, maybe their everyday life could do with a little cheer-up, Tom figured.
Tom made his way to the living room and sat beside Bill.
“Are you hungry?”
Bill glanced at Tom and pecked his cheek. “Why? Are you going to try and feed me with your special pasta?” A horrified look was briefly visible on Bill’s face.
“Nah, I brought you grapes,” Tom said excitedly and felt around his bag, pulling out a plastic box of delicious looking grapes. “Here, open.”
Bill now looked very suspicious, but obediently opened his mouth. Tom popped a single green grape to his mouth.
“What’s going on?” Bill munched.
“Nothing. Have another,” Tom said, this time trying to pop the grape in his brother’s mouth with a bit more sensuality.
“Wait, I’m still not done with the first one.”
“Isn’t this fun!” Tom tried to sound excited and a bit sexy, but Bill just rolled his eyes at him.
“Tom, what the hell? I mean, either you’re thinking I’m anorexic and you need to feed me, or then you’re trying to kill me with unwashed grapes that are stuffed with toxic preservatives, and neither of those ideas are really appealing.”
Tom looked horrified. “I’d never! I thought this would be fun, I mean, I’d like you to feed me,” Tom lied. He thought the whole thing was pretty girly, to be honest.
Bill stared at him with a blank expression. “But that’s different, you’re such a granddad, I’m going to have to feed you soon.”
“Am not a granddad,” Tom huffed. Bill raised his eyebrows and pointed at Tom’s trousers, which just happened to be old checkered flannel pants.
“Right,” Tom cleared his throat. “I’ve got something else for you,” he tossed the grape box back to his bag. Instead, he pulled out a fancy looking box of chocolates. He had invested quite a bit to the more expensive brand, instead of just getting usual cheap kid’s chocolate that was Bill’s usual indulgement.
Chocolate didn’t seem to be popular with his significant other today, either, judging from the frown on Bill’s forehead as he presented the sweets.
“Chocolates?”
“Yes, very good Bill! You recognize so many things nowadays,” Tom blurted out, forgetting for a second that he was supposed to be Boyfriend of the year and not the annoying mix of a brother and a boyfriend that he actually was.
Bill stared some more. “Do you have something you want to say, Tom?”
“Open up?”
“God, Tom! If you think I’m too skinny, just say it! You know how much I eat, I really don‘t need you too nagging on my back about being anorexic!”
Tom huffed annoyed and got up from the sofa. “Fine, be like that then, I’m not going to show you what else I bought.” He made his way to the kitchen and wasn’t surprised in the slightest when he heard Bill’s bare feet tap along behind him. He lifted his bag to the kitchen counter, starting to empty it, with Bill peeking over his shoulder.
“To-om, what else did you bring? Tell me-ee..” Bill was about to drag on with his whining when he spotted the last item Tom had bought. “Chocolate sauce! Ooh, that’s so good!”
“It is?” Tom was confused, but in a good way, for finally getting positive feedback.
“It is! I’d love to make sundaes tonight,” Bill smiled and waved the sauce bottle excitedly when he noticed Tom’s smile was fading. “What?”
“That, umm, it’s not really, I mean, that wasn’t for ice cream.”
Bill’s eyes grew wide with realization. “Eugh, Tom! That would be so sticky.”
“But it’d taste good?”
“I think you taste good enough as it is. Why, do I taste bad?”
“You taste fine, Bill. I just thought…”
“Stop, it doesn’t suit you. Now make me ice cream,” Bill flirted, trying to convince himself to at least appreciate the effort Tom had made.
And so Tom made sundaes for them, and as he was squirting chocolate sauce to the bowls, he hoped there’d be a more mellow website on the internet, with tips on how to be successfully romantic, with no relations to food.
***
Bill had decided that as it was the third Christmas they’d be spending in their own home, just the two of them with their puppies, they should not just celebrate Christmas for the few days marked in the calendar. Apparently, it was the third Christmas together that was a really big thing in a relationship (Tom had pointed out that technically this would be their twentieth Christmas together, sixth as a couple, but according to Bill those were minor details).
Therefore, around December 17th, when it was still way too early in the morning, Bill had woken Tom up and told him that today, they would get a Christmas tree and decorate it.
Bill was cuddled up on a rocking chair with a ridiculously humongous blue cardigan with pieces of fabric hanging from here and there. Tom sometimes really didn’t get why Bill would drape himself in strange clothes; he looked perfect butt naked. Tom himself was swaying on the ladders, hanging a few last ornaments to the upper branches of the Christmas tree. He’d told Bill that there was no way Bill would go anywhere near the ladder; his darling was famously accident-prone and Tom had no desire to spend his Christmas doting on a crippled Bill. Doting was much more fun when Bill could move all his limbs.
“Too bad we can’t switch the lights on,” Tom sighed exaggeratedly, taking a few steps back to admire his decoration work.
Bill turned his head sharply. “Why not?”
Tom faked a surprised look and gaped at his twin. “Haven’t you heard? Today is Switch-day!”
“What does Switzerland have to do with lights?” Bill looked positively puzzled.
“Not Swiss, Switch! It means people switch off everything for one day, trying to save the environment. Really Bill, I thought we were good people nowadays, not eating meat and everything, how can you not know about this?”
“How can you know about this? “ Bill still looked suspicious. Tom wasn’t really the sort of person who’d spend time in demonstrations or wearing pins saying nuclear power was murder. Sure, sometimes Bill would see a heartbreaking document of meat production farms and tear up a little, announcing Tom that they’d become vegetarians as of right now, but for Tom to independently know and care about these things…
“I read about it on the internet,” Tom said. “Not today of course, as I’m not switching anything on.”
“What’s up with you and this internet thing? You’re always staring at your laptop these days.”
Tom didn’t have an immediate comeback, but luckily Bill’s face lit up as a sign of realization.
“Is it porn? I mean, I know we’re not as active as before, but come on, all you have to do is ask nicely if you’re feeling deprived.”
Tom burst out laughing, but seeing Bill’s face turn to an offended pout, he was quick to pull on a straight face: “Oh trust me, there’s nothing in that area that isn’t perfect for me.”
“I guess,” Bill sighed and bit his lip silently.
Tom cleared his throat, he needed to push the moment forward, he had a plan to fill after all. “So what are we going to do about this darkness thing? Won’t be easy to appreciate our hard work if it’s dark?”
Bill still bit his lip. Tom wasn’t surprised; sometimes, he would have to wait for a while until Bill would reach the same conclusion Tom had reached a while back. This was clearly one of those moments, but Tom didn’t mind - Bill liked to feel like he came up with something on his own, and he loved rubbing it on Tom’s face, announcing himself as the smarter one. Tom was fine with that, Bill did look really cute even with a gleeful smile.
Finally, Bill spoke up with hesitation.
“We could always light candles, I think I saw some in the kitchen drawers,” he sounded hopeful.
“Oh. Well isn’t that convenient,” Tom murmured to himself, trying to keep a straight face. Bill turned to him and gave an amused, all-knowing look. It was obvious to Tom that Bill had been waiting for the right moment to come, so that he could make some use of the candles without Tom laughing at him for trying to be silly.
“Isn’t it indeed! You wouldn’t know this, but I have to be prepared for all sorts of things - after all, I’m living with a grandpa, eventually there will be a time when he forgets to pay the electricity bill.”
“Says someone from a rocking chair. Sure it’s not going too fast for you, Bill? After all, you have to be careful, osteoporosis means even slight bruises can be pretty dangerous for old, fragile ladies.”
Bill laughed and reached his hand. “Come give an old lady a hand then, charming scout boy, I need to go get the candles.”
Tom gave Bill a mock bow and pulled him up from the rocking chair. Bill tried to suppress his grin and gave Tom a gentle little flick to his nose. “Besides, you should no I’m no lady,” he said happily and went to find some candles. He was certain he had bought vanilla scented ones.
***
They were lying on the sofa, Bill slouching on top of Tom. Tom felt all warm and content, like he does just before falling asleep. Bill felt so light, Tom imagined he could see Bill raise up and down simultaneously with Tom’s deep breaths. A slight scent of vanilla was floating in the air, candles were on every possible level in the living room - apparently Bill had gotten a bit too excited at the words “stock discount.” Bill’s hand were lazily massaging Tom’s scalp, and Tom thought this might be somewhat romantic.
“Right!” Bill suddenly tapped his chest as Tom was dozing off.
“Wha?” he mumbled sleepily.
Bill sat up much too energetically for Tom’s liking, trying to drag him up as well. “We’re going out. Every family has to have a snowman, I just remembered.”
Tom rubbed his eyes and almost wanted to imagine for a second what it would be like to not be family. Bill pulled his ear gently and smiled.
“Fine,” Tom sighed, defeated and walked to the foyer. “No way, what the hell is that?”
Bill was proudly showing off two identical woolly hats, both black, one with a red tassel and one with a green tassel. “Look how funny, I bought them for us!”
Tom made a mental note of never letting Bill go shopping alone again, even if waiting in overheated shops for hours, and carrying around bags, wasn’t his favourite waste of time either. He was out of words.
“We have a huge fence, no one will see you,” Bill assured him. As Tom still wasn’t making a move to put a hat on his head, Bill lifted his shirt, showing his bare stomach and his star tattoo. “You know I’m worth it.”
After five minutes, they were running around the snow white yard with their ridiculous designer woolly hats.
There was enough of snow for Tom to make various snowballs, each directed at Bill.
“Stop it, Tom!” Bill shrieked. “My jacket isn’t made for outdoors, it can’t get wet you idiot!”
Tom laughed, almost bumping into the snowman they had quickly made. Poor thing was badly malformed; it was built of one larger snowball and a head, it had a pathetic twig as a nose and it only had one hand.
“I know what you’re thinking,” Tom heard Bill say as he eyed up and down the snowman. “It does not look like that because I got lazy or because I’m easily distracted.”
“No?” Tom lifted his eyebrow as he was taking steps to Bill, who looked ready to run.
“No. It’s art.”
“Art?” Tom sneered.
“Yes,” Bill blew his bangs. “It represents the way how no matter how ugly you look, or if people don’t think you’re worth anything, someone still made you with love. Someone will see something in you, even if it’s not much.”
Tom nodded looking utterly unconvinced, getting closer and closer to Bill. “Come on Tomi, I dedicated it to you,” Bill couldn’t control himself anymore and bursted laughing.
Tom took a handful of snow, attacking Bill and messing up his hair with a snowy hand while Bill giggled. “You’re such a dork. I hate you!” Bill tripped Tom over, wrestled with him and finally sat on top of him, looking triumphed.
“You know what,” Tom said, panting. “I actually love you.”
Bill smiled and bent down, his breath warm on Tom’s lips, and kissed him. “Yeah right. You’re trying to lure me into false sense of security. I know you, Tom Kaulitz.”
“No no, really! I’ll show you if you let me go.”
Bill blinked.
“Seriously Bill! This’ll be fun, I promise.”
“You do know that even if it’s fun while we do it, my ass will freeze and then we can’t have fun for many weeks?” Bill whined but still lifted himself off Tom.
Shaking his head amusedly, Tom stood up, flipping most snow off his clothes. He turned to look at Bill, who looked alert yet anticipating.
Tom bent down, took off the mitten from his right hand and touched the snow with his index finger. Slowly, he moved his finger in the snow, concentrating. Bill was quiet, and Tom could feel his eyes on him, carefully taking in what Tom was doing.
Finally Tom was finished, and Bill gasped. There, right under his eyes, on their own backyard, stood in large writing, “Tom ♥’s Bill”. Right there in almost public, for anyone to see. Tom was looking proud.
“I love you too,” Bill whispered and nudged Tom gently. “This is the most romantic thing you’ve ever done, thank you.”
Tom stilled and gaped at Bill. “What?”
“I mean, I know it’s not something you do, but this is really romantic, it‘s so unlike you,” Bill tried to smile encouragingly.
“Bill! You ass,” Tom flipped with his hand. “I’ve gone overboard with everything for the past week and now you think this is romantic? You’re the one who wouldn’t know romantic if it hit you in the head!” Tom let out, frustrated. “Or fed you grapes,” he mumbled.
“What are you talking about?” Bill looked positively puzzled. “You’ve just been strange, that’s all, with your chocolates and feeding me and…” Bill stopped as realization dawned to him. “You were trying to be romantic?”
“Well duh,” Tom sounded embarrassed as he fidgeted his leg.
Bill felt his heart fill with warm and tender emotions. Tom had tried; he’d read the letter to Santa and tried so hard. “Oh Tom, you didn’t need to, you’re fine just the way you are.”
Tom sulked and Bill moved closer, starting to fiddle with Tom’s jacket. He wrapped his other hand around Tom’s waist, pulling him closer. He rested his forehead against the nook of Tom’s shoulder. “You really didn’t have to; I love that you did though.”
Tom still didn’t say a word, he felt so embarrassed. How could he have gotten everything so wrong? He wanted Bill to feel wooed, not like his boyfriend was an awkward dork.
“Silly… Chocolate, flowers, it’s all really nice but it’s not what I want. I’m not a girl,” Bill whispered. “You telling me how you feel, that’s enough for me. I guess I just wanted to feel like you‘re infatuated with me or something. I was the silly one, you let me know how you feel all the time.”
Tom finally relaxed on Bill’s hold, and hugged his back. He mentally kicked himself; he should’ve known Bill better. After all, they were exactly the same - he would feel appreciated and cared for if Bill brought him coffee to bed, not because of something sugary fake.
“So what, there is no Switch-day?” Bill looked disappointed at the thought. “You made it up? For candles?”
Tom looked down on the ground. “I don’t know Bill, do you want it to exist?” he lifted his eyes to meet his boyfriend’s eyes.
Bill shrugged. “Maybe. Candles are nice.”
Tom almost melted at how adorable Bill was looking. “We can have a Switch-day every week.”
Next thing Tom realized they were both on the ground, with Bill having tipped them over. Laughing, Bill rolled to Tom’s side and took a gentle hold of his hand, slowly stroking with his thumb. Bill lifted Tom’s mitten-covered hand to his lips, giving it a peck with his shining eyes meeting Tom’s.
Big white snowflakes had begun to slowly fall from the sky again. Tom stuck out his tongue, trying to catch them.
“The snow looks so fluffy!” Bill chirped.
Tom suddenly remembered something.
“That’s what the fan girls say about us.”
Author: strssna
Pairing(s): Bill/Tom
Rating: PG-13
Disclaimer: Everything in this world belongs to me.
Warnings: Twincest, fluff
Summary: Bill wants something for Christmas. Luckily Tom is good with computers.
Author's notes: Ho ho ho, here’s some silly Christmas fluff for thou! It might be a bit early, but I feel like I’m finally getting my groove back - I want to dedicate this to all you darlings for standing by me during my un-groovy moments ♥ I hope this brings jingle bells and candles to your heart : )
***
Tom couldn’t help but laugh when he lifted the carpet at their foyer, uncovering two envelopes on the floor. The two envelopes were so traditionally them, anyone could’ve spotted from miles away which one was Tom’s and which one was Bill’s. Bill’s envelope read ”Merry Christmas, Santa!” in handwriting that was probably the neatest he could do. Tom, he had written ”SC” in two graphic letters.
What Tom was doing at an early morning hour, peeking under carpets, was that he was fulfilling a Christmas tradition. Sure, maybe writing to Santa was ridiculous at the their age, but they had been doing it for as long as Tom could remember. A few years back, when they still lived with their mum, Simone had confided in Tom that she was the one who had always taken their envelopes, and that from now on, Tom should keep taking Bill’s. A little piece of Tom’s Christmas spirit had vanished at the very moment when he’d finally been told that there was no Santa, at least he didn’t visit them, but he was a grown up enough to know that Bill could not find out about it. So, loyally, every Christmas he went and got Bill’s letter to Santa from the usual place under the carpet in the foyer. And every year on Christmas eve morning, Bill would flail around with a child-like excitement of how Santa kept on remembering them. Tom figured it was ok for him to write too, he was entitled to more than one secret.
Bill was sound asleep upstairs as Tom sat down on the sofa, opening Bill’s letter. He smiled at Bill’s blatant lies of how good, and most importantly innocent, he had been this year, just like every year. His wish list was all very Bill-like, until Tom saw the last line.
"Dear Santa, please make Tom more romantic.”
***
Tom felt certain he was about to get a “Boyfriend of the year” -award. He was carrying a bag full of goodies that were sure to swoon Bill. Romantic, pfft, of course he could be! Lucky thing he had found the Real Woman-website, it had featured a great list of what women really wanted. Granted, Bill was no woman, but who know romance better than older women - Tom was sure he had taken the right advice from the website. Good thing he had become pretty good at surfing the web due to having to update his blog.
“Honey, I’m home!” Tom yelled from the door.
“Honey, I’m on the couch!” came a reply.
True, maybe their everyday life could do with a little cheer-up, Tom figured.
Tom made his way to the living room and sat beside Bill.
“Are you hungry?”
Bill glanced at Tom and pecked his cheek. “Why? Are you going to try and feed me with your special pasta?” A horrified look was briefly visible on Bill’s face.
“Nah, I brought you grapes,” Tom said excitedly and felt around his bag, pulling out a plastic box of delicious looking grapes. “Here, open.”
Bill now looked very suspicious, but obediently opened his mouth. Tom popped a single green grape to his mouth.
“What’s going on?” Bill munched.
“Nothing. Have another,” Tom said, this time trying to pop the grape in his brother’s mouth with a bit more sensuality.
“Wait, I’m still not done with the first one.”
“Isn’t this fun!” Tom tried to sound excited and a bit sexy, but Bill just rolled his eyes at him.
“Tom, what the hell? I mean, either you’re thinking I’m anorexic and you need to feed me, or then you’re trying to kill me with unwashed grapes that are stuffed with toxic preservatives, and neither of those ideas are really appealing.”
Tom looked horrified. “I’d never! I thought this would be fun, I mean, I’d like you to feed me,” Tom lied. He thought the whole thing was pretty girly, to be honest.
Bill stared at him with a blank expression. “But that’s different, you’re such a granddad, I’m going to have to feed you soon.”
“Am not a granddad,” Tom huffed. Bill raised his eyebrows and pointed at Tom’s trousers, which just happened to be old checkered flannel pants.
“Right,” Tom cleared his throat. “I’ve got something else for you,” he tossed the grape box back to his bag. Instead, he pulled out a fancy looking box of chocolates. He had invested quite a bit to the more expensive brand, instead of just getting usual cheap kid’s chocolate that was Bill’s usual indulgement.
Chocolate didn’t seem to be popular with his significant other today, either, judging from the frown on Bill’s forehead as he presented the sweets.
“Chocolates?”
“Yes, very good Bill! You recognize so many things nowadays,” Tom blurted out, forgetting for a second that he was supposed to be Boyfriend of the year and not the annoying mix of a brother and a boyfriend that he actually was.
Bill stared some more. “Do you have something you want to say, Tom?”
“Open up?”
“God, Tom! If you think I’m too skinny, just say it! You know how much I eat, I really don‘t need you too nagging on my back about being anorexic!”
Tom huffed annoyed and got up from the sofa. “Fine, be like that then, I’m not going to show you what else I bought.” He made his way to the kitchen and wasn’t surprised in the slightest when he heard Bill’s bare feet tap along behind him. He lifted his bag to the kitchen counter, starting to empty it, with Bill peeking over his shoulder.
“To-om, what else did you bring? Tell me-ee..” Bill was about to drag on with his whining when he spotted the last item Tom had bought. “Chocolate sauce! Ooh, that’s so good!”
“It is?” Tom was confused, but in a good way, for finally getting positive feedback.
“It is! I’d love to make sundaes tonight,” Bill smiled and waved the sauce bottle excitedly when he noticed Tom’s smile was fading. “What?”
“That, umm, it’s not really, I mean, that wasn’t for ice cream.”
Bill’s eyes grew wide with realization. “Eugh, Tom! That would be so sticky.”
“But it’d taste good?”
“I think you taste good enough as it is. Why, do I taste bad?”
“You taste fine, Bill. I just thought…”
“Stop, it doesn’t suit you. Now make me ice cream,” Bill flirted, trying to convince himself to at least appreciate the effort Tom had made.
And so Tom made sundaes for them, and as he was squirting chocolate sauce to the bowls, he hoped there’d be a more mellow website on the internet, with tips on how to be successfully romantic, with no relations to food.
***
Bill had decided that as it was the third Christmas they’d be spending in their own home, just the two of them with their puppies, they should not just celebrate Christmas for the few days marked in the calendar. Apparently, it was the third Christmas together that was a really big thing in a relationship (Tom had pointed out that technically this would be their twentieth Christmas together, sixth as a couple, but according to Bill those were minor details).
Therefore, around December 17th, when it was still way too early in the morning, Bill had woken Tom up and told him that today, they would get a Christmas tree and decorate it.
Bill was cuddled up on a rocking chair with a ridiculously humongous blue cardigan with pieces of fabric hanging from here and there. Tom sometimes really didn’t get why Bill would drape himself in strange clothes; he looked perfect butt naked. Tom himself was swaying on the ladders, hanging a few last ornaments to the upper branches of the Christmas tree. He’d told Bill that there was no way Bill would go anywhere near the ladder; his darling was famously accident-prone and Tom had no desire to spend his Christmas doting on a crippled Bill. Doting was much more fun when Bill could move all his limbs.
“Too bad we can’t switch the lights on,” Tom sighed exaggeratedly, taking a few steps back to admire his decoration work.
Bill turned his head sharply. “Why not?”
Tom faked a surprised look and gaped at his twin. “Haven’t you heard? Today is Switch-day!”
“What does Switzerland have to do with lights?” Bill looked positively puzzled.
“Not Swiss, Switch! It means people switch off everything for one day, trying to save the environment. Really Bill, I thought we were good people nowadays, not eating meat and everything, how can you not know about this?”
“How can you know about this? “ Bill still looked suspicious. Tom wasn’t really the sort of person who’d spend time in demonstrations or wearing pins saying nuclear power was murder. Sure, sometimes Bill would see a heartbreaking document of meat production farms and tear up a little, announcing Tom that they’d become vegetarians as of right now, but for Tom to independently know and care about these things…
“I read about it on the internet,” Tom said. “Not today of course, as I’m not switching anything on.”
“What’s up with you and this internet thing? You’re always staring at your laptop these days.”
Tom didn’t have an immediate comeback, but luckily Bill’s face lit up as a sign of realization.
“Is it porn? I mean, I know we’re not as active as before, but come on, all you have to do is ask nicely if you’re feeling deprived.”
Tom burst out laughing, but seeing Bill’s face turn to an offended pout, he was quick to pull on a straight face: “Oh trust me, there’s nothing in that area that isn’t perfect for me.”
“I guess,” Bill sighed and bit his lip silently.
Tom cleared his throat, he needed to push the moment forward, he had a plan to fill after all. “So what are we going to do about this darkness thing? Won’t be easy to appreciate our hard work if it’s dark?”
Bill still bit his lip. Tom wasn’t surprised; sometimes, he would have to wait for a while until Bill would reach the same conclusion Tom had reached a while back. This was clearly one of those moments, but Tom didn’t mind - Bill liked to feel like he came up with something on his own, and he loved rubbing it on Tom’s face, announcing himself as the smarter one. Tom was fine with that, Bill did look really cute even with a gleeful smile.
Finally, Bill spoke up with hesitation.
“We could always light candles, I think I saw some in the kitchen drawers,” he sounded hopeful.
“Oh. Well isn’t that convenient,” Tom murmured to himself, trying to keep a straight face. Bill turned to him and gave an amused, all-knowing look. It was obvious to Tom that Bill had been waiting for the right moment to come, so that he could make some use of the candles without Tom laughing at him for trying to be silly.
“Isn’t it indeed! You wouldn’t know this, but I have to be prepared for all sorts of things - after all, I’m living with a grandpa, eventually there will be a time when he forgets to pay the electricity bill.”
“Says someone from a rocking chair. Sure it’s not going too fast for you, Bill? After all, you have to be careful, osteoporosis means even slight bruises can be pretty dangerous for old, fragile ladies.”
Bill laughed and reached his hand. “Come give an old lady a hand then, charming scout boy, I need to go get the candles.”
Tom gave Bill a mock bow and pulled him up from the rocking chair. Bill tried to suppress his grin and gave Tom a gentle little flick to his nose. “Besides, you should no I’m no lady,” he said happily and went to find some candles. He was certain he had bought vanilla scented ones.
***
They were lying on the sofa, Bill slouching on top of Tom. Tom felt all warm and content, like he does just before falling asleep. Bill felt so light, Tom imagined he could see Bill raise up and down simultaneously with Tom’s deep breaths. A slight scent of vanilla was floating in the air, candles were on every possible level in the living room - apparently Bill had gotten a bit too excited at the words “stock discount.” Bill’s hand were lazily massaging Tom’s scalp, and Tom thought this might be somewhat romantic.
“Right!” Bill suddenly tapped his chest as Tom was dozing off.
“Wha?” he mumbled sleepily.
Bill sat up much too energetically for Tom’s liking, trying to drag him up as well. “We’re going out. Every family has to have a snowman, I just remembered.”
Tom rubbed his eyes and almost wanted to imagine for a second what it would be like to not be family. Bill pulled his ear gently and smiled.
“Fine,” Tom sighed, defeated and walked to the foyer. “No way, what the hell is that?”
Bill was proudly showing off two identical woolly hats, both black, one with a red tassel and one with a green tassel. “Look how funny, I bought them for us!”
Tom made a mental note of never letting Bill go shopping alone again, even if waiting in overheated shops for hours, and carrying around bags, wasn’t his favourite waste of time either. He was out of words.
“We have a huge fence, no one will see you,” Bill assured him. As Tom still wasn’t making a move to put a hat on his head, Bill lifted his shirt, showing his bare stomach and his star tattoo. “You know I’m worth it.”
After five minutes, they were running around the snow white yard with their ridiculous designer woolly hats.
There was enough of snow for Tom to make various snowballs, each directed at Bill.
“Stop it, Tom!” Bill shrieked. “My jacket isn’t made for outdoors, it can’t get wet you idiot!”
Tom laughed, almost bumping into the snowman they had quickly made. Poor thing was badly malformed; it was built of one larger snowball and a head, it had a pathetic twig as a nose and it only had one hand.
“I know what you’re thinking,” Tom heard Bill say as he eyed up and down the snowman. “It does not look like that because I got lazy or because I’m easily distracted.”
“No?” Tom lifted his eyebrow as he was taking steps to Bill, who looked ready to run.
“No. It’s art.”
“Art?” Tom sneered.
“Yes,” Bill blew his bangs. “It represents the way how no matter how ugly you look, or if people don’t think you’re worth anything, someone still made you with love. Someone will see something in you, even if it’s not much.”
Tom nodded looking utterly unconvinced, getting closer and closer to Bill. “Come on Tomi, I dedicated it to you,” Bill couldn’t control himself anymore and bursted laughing.
Tom took a handful of snow, attacking Bill and messing up his hair with a snowy hand while Bill giggled. “You’re such a dork. I hate you!” Bill tripped Tom over, wrestled with him and finally sat on top of him, looking triumphed.
“You know what,” Tom said, panting. “I actually love you.”
Bill smiled and bent down, his breath warm on Tom’s lips, and kissed him. “Yeah right. You’re trying to lure me into false sense of security. I know you, Tom Kaulitz.”
“No no, really! I’ll show you if you let me go.”
Bill blinked.
“Seriously Bill! This’ll be fun, I promise.”
“You do know that even if it’s fun while we do it, my ass will freeze and then we can’t have fun for many weeks?” Bill whined but still lifted himself off Tom.
Shaking his head amusedly, Tom stood up, flipping most snow off his clothes. He turned to look at Bill, who looked alert yet anticipating.
Tom bent down, took off the mitten from his right hand and touched the snow with his index finger. Slowly, he moved his finger in the snow, concentrating. Bill was quiet, and Tom could feel his eyes on him, carefully taking in what Tom was doing.
Finally Tom was finished, and Bill gasped. There, right under his eyes, on their own backyard, stood in large writing, “Tom ♥’s Bill”. Right there in almost public, for anyone to see. Tom was looking proud.
“I love you too,” Bill whispered and nudged Tom gently. “This is the most romantic thing you’ve ever done, thank you.”
Tom stilled and gaped at Bill. “What?”
“I mean, I know it’s not something you do, but this is really romantic, it‘s so unlike you,” Bill tried to smile encouragingly.
“Bill! You ass,” Tom flipped with his hand. “I’ve gone overboard with everything for the past week and now you think this is romantic? You’re the one who wouldn’t know romantic if it hit you in the head!” Tom let out, frustrated. “Or fed you grapes,” he mumbled.
“What are you talking about?” Bill looked positively puzzled. “You’ve just been strange, that’s all, with your chocolates and feeding me and…” Bill stopped as realization dawned to him. “You were trying to be romantic?”
“Well duh,” Tom sounded embarrassed as he fidgeted his leg.
Bill felt his heart fill with warm and tender emotions. Tom had tried; he’d read the letter to Santa and tried so hard. “Oh Tom, you didn’t need to, you’re fine just the way you are.”
Tom sulked and Bill moved closer, starting to fiddle with Tom’s jacket. He wrapped his other hand around Tom’s waist, pulling him closer. He rested his forehead against the nook of Tom’s shoulder. “You really didn’t have to; I love that you did though.”
Tom still didn’t say a word, he felt so embarrassed. How could he have gotten everything so wrong? He wanted Bill to feel wooed, not like his boyfriend was an awkward dork.
“Silly… Chocolate, flowers, it’s all really nice but it’s not what I want. I’m not a girl,” Bill whispered. “You telling me how you feel, that’s enough for me. I guess I just wanted to feel like you‘re infatuated with me or something. I was the silly one, you let me know how you feel all the time.”
Tom finally relaxed on Bill’s hold, and hugged his back. He mentally kicked himself; he should’ve known Bill better. After all, they were exactly the same - he would feel appreciated and cared for if Bill brought him coffee to bed, not because of something sugary fake.
“So what, there is no Switch-day?” Bill looked disappointed at the thought. “You made it up? For candles?”
Tom looked down on the ground. “I don’t know Bill, do you want it to exist?” he lifted his eyes to meet his boyfriend’s eyes.
Bill shrugged. “Maybe. Candles are nice.”
Tom almost melted at how adorable Bill was looking. “We can have a Switch-day every week.”
Next thing Tom realized they were both on the ground, with Bill having tipped them over. Laughing, Bill rolled to Tom’s side and took a gentle hold of his hand, slowly stroking with his thumb. Bill lifted Tom’s mitten-covered hand to his lips, giving it a peck with his shining eyes meeting Tom’s.
Big white snowflakes had begun to slowly fall from the sky again. Tom stuck out his tongue, trying to catch them.
“The snow looks so fluffy!” Bill chirped.
Tom suddenly remembered something.
“That’s what the fan girls say about us.”