(no subject)
Title: The Bubble 2/3
Pairings: Bill/OMC Bill/Tom
Rating: NC17
Summary: Bill can't see what's in front of him.
Warnings: Unbetad. OMC. Violence. Non-con(?) Angst.
Ch1
Bill stopped crying out for Tom. It didn’t hurt anymore. He couldn’t feel anything, and his head was light from screaming. But the weight was gone from his back and he could move his hands. He pulled himself up to sitting, shaking the confusion out of his eyes as he took in the change in scene. Tom was in front of him, leaning over Theo and making a mess of his face. Tom hadn’t broken Theo’s skin, but his cheek and eye were already red and a colossal bruise was inevitable.
“Tom!” Bill cried out, reaching out to his brother and sliding off the sofa onto his knees. Tom smacked Theo’s head into the coffee table and dropped him, throwing himself at Bill and wrapping him into a crushing embrace.
Bill shook uncontrollably, clutching at Tom. Seconds later, Tobi was barrelling through the door and Bill could hear the desperate, furious shake in Tom’s voice as he addressed their friend.
“Look at this, fucking look!” he all but screamed.
“Bill?” Bill heard Tobi asking for him, sounding close to tears himself, but Bill couldn’t respond. Theo hadn’t got any further, but Bill was shirtless and his pants were still hanging open, low on his hips. He was conscious of being half-naked and utterly humiliated. He buried his face in Tom’s chest and pretended not to exist.
“Call the police,” Tom said, his voice strained.
“No!” Bill said, lifting his face away from Tom’s chest. “You can’t. He’ll tell them what we were doing and we can’t… We can’t…”
Tom hushed him, pulling him back in. He pressed his lips to Bill’s temple and rocked him gently, lifting his eyes to address Tobi.
“You take that fucking animal down to Saki and tell him what he did,” Tom insisted. Bill had never heard him angrier. Tobi nodded, shaking with his own fear and fury and grabbed the barely-conscious Theo with one hand, dragging him roughly out of the room.
“He’ll kill him,” Bill whimpered.
“I don’t care,” Tom hissed. Bill stiffened. “Saki won’t kill him,” Tom said. “He’s just going to wish he did.”
“He doesn’t deserve…”
“Jesus, Bill,” Tom said, pulling Bill back to look at him. “What the fuck did he do to you? What did he do to my baby brother?”
“Don’t,” Bill said, shaking his head rapidly. “Please don’t. He didn’t r…” Bill huffed, unable to continue. “You came. I didn’t think you were going to hear me.”
“I shouldn’t have left you,” Tom said bitterly. “I’ll never leave you again.”
“Don’t,” Bill whispered, screwing his fingertips into Tom’s shirt.
#
Bill slept. It took some time, with everyone and their mother feeling the need to come in and fuss, but eventually they realised how little he wanted to see them all and they left. Bill drifted off, with Tom beside him, eyes wide and far from sleep.
Now Tom sat on the edge of the bed, his fingers pressed together and pointed between his knees. His shoulders were slumped and his head hung heavily between them. He breathed, deep and even and slow until his head began to go light. He stared at his own hands, thinking of everything and nothing. Thinking about the bubble.
When Tom was little, Gordon had taken him shopping. Bill was poorly and hadn’t gone with them, but Tom spent most of the day looking for Bill and waiting for him, despite the fact that he wasn’t there. Gordon and Tom had gone to McDonald's and sat eating cheeseburgers and drinking shakes. Tom’s fingers were freezing around his cup and his legs swung a few inches from the floor. Gordon had told him about The Bubble.
There was a bubble, Gordon told him, and it was Bill and Tom’s bubble. It went around both of them at once and it was always there, no matter how far apart they were. Nobody else could get into the bubble; it was definitely a twin thing. When they were close to each other, the bubble was a sphere; bubble shaped! And everything was nice inside it. It’s like each knew what the other was thinking and there needn’t be anyone else in the world. The further away from each other from each other they got, the more the bubble stretched, egg timer shaped. That was why they missed each other. That was why they felt so much better when they were near. They’d had their bubble since before they were born and they would always have it.
Tom hadn’t known what to say. Gordon thought a lot and came out with some things that sounded weird even to Tom and Bill.
“Could I break it?” he asked at length. “If I get too far away from him, or if I leave him alone too long?”
Gordon smiled slowly.
“I don’t think so,” he said thoughtfully. “But I wouldn’t risk it. I wouldn’t know how to fix it.”
Tom shook his head very firmly. He had no intention of risking what he had with Bill.
He never talked to Bill about it. But he knew it was there and sometimes, in the right light, he could swear he could almost see it. It was brightest in the glow of Christmas tree lights, the reflections of fireworks, or the blue lamps that marked their path to the stage.
Everything was better in the bubble.
Turning a little, he looked over his shoulder at his brother. The light was dim and the streetlamps were off. Moonlight kissed them but, even out of the corner of his eye, Tom couldn’t catch so much as a glimpse of the bubble. He let his head drop back between his shoulders. He had ruined it. It was his fault.
He stood, turning immediately as the movement disturbed Bill. Tired, red-rimmed eyes blinked at him.
“I’m just going to the bathroom,” he said quietly. “Sorry I woke you.” Bill blinked and nodded. His eyes stayed closed for a few seconds, then opened again.
“I thought you were going,” Bill whispered.
Tom tilted his head to one side and gazed at his brother.
“Bill,” he said softly, “I…” Bill raised an expectant eyebrow. Tom shook his head. “I’ll be right back.”
Tom washed his hands and pissed. Then he washed his hands again. He scrubbed at his face with cold water and washed his hands again. He still couldn’t clean his fingers of the guilt. His own abandon had terrified him. When he had taken hold of Theo he had wanted to hurt him. He had wanted more than that; he wanted to hurt him so badly he never came near Bill or anyone else, ever again. He wanted to smash him to pieces. He had wanted to beat Theo until he stopped breathing.
And it wasn’t just because he had tried to rape Bill.
Tom turned on a dime, fell to his knees and emptied his stomach into the toilet. Until that moment, he hadn’t allowed himself to think that word. He had almost let his brother be raped. He had almost let his soulmate, his twin, his everything be violated beyond belief. He knew Bill was a virgin, it was a standing joke in the group. Tom helped them mock, but he was so proud of Bill’s innocence that ultimately, he would defend Bill’s choice every time. He loved that Bill remained sweet, naïve and perfect.
Tom rolled onto his backside, spitting into a piece of toilet paper and flushing it. He leant against the bathroom wall and let his head knock against the tiles. The truth was he wanted to punch Theo since the moment he had stepped into their lives. Theo was older than he was and bigger than he was. Theo was quite possibly smarter than he was. And what really upset him was that Theo was a better guitarist than he was.
The day they had met, in a bar-tent backstage at a rock festival, Theo had made an impression. Everyone liked him. Even Gustav and he didn’t like anyone. When Bill said he was going for a walk with him, Jost had shrugged and told him to have fun. Saki had scowled but hadn’t actually said a word against the plan. Tom had just stared at everyone, unable to believe that nobody saw how bad an idea it was to let Bill just wander off with some stranger, no matter how charming he seemed.
More than an hour had passed before they deigned to return, by which point Tom was furious, stomping around, knocking back shots and desperate to know where the hell his brother had gone. Bill had come back looking happy, his cheeks flushed and his lips puffy and red. Bill had clung to Theo like a limpet and Tom already hated him.
Why did Bill have to go out with a guitarist, anyway? He couldn’t have picked a drummer or a bassist or anything else that wouldn’t make Tom insane with insecurity.
Not that he would have been particularly comfortable with anyone who turned up in Bill’s life.
Tom dragged himself up to standing by the sink and slugged a large glass of tap water, swilling his mouth out and washing his hands one last time. He stared at himself in the bathroom mirror for minute after minute, trying to see some reflection of Bill’s innocence in himself.
Seeing nothing, he went back to his sleeping brother.
He dumped his shoes and jeans but kept his shirt on, crawling into bed beside Bill as carefully as he could. Bill never minded if Tom got into his bed, as long as he didn’t kick or wake him up too early. Tom had never done it that often and since they turned 14, it was almost unheard of.
Tom settled down beside his twin, reaching out to trace the fold of the blanket next to his arm. He didn’t touch Bill.
Everything was better in the bubble. Sleep was more refreshing, jokes were funnier. He had more exciting dreams. Games were more fun in the bubble and food tasted better. Tom was just happier in the bubble. Shortly after their 13th birthday, they had gone on holiday and had to share a twin room. Tom had wanked; listening carefully to make sure Bill hadn’t woken up. He moved his hand to the rhythm of Bill’s breathing and, minutes later, he had come so hard the arching of his back and the jerking of his foot broke one of the slats under the mattress. It had never occurred to him that coming in the bubble would be so much better, too.
Tom did it whenever he could. Just being close enough to Bill when he jerked off that he would get one of the truly amazing climaxes.
When they were 14, almost 15, Tom changed. He changed because Bill made him change. They were sharing a room again. They had separate beds but they were so close together it hardly counted. Tom didn’t miss his chance. He pulled at himself as quietly as possible, listening to Bill’s breathing, making sure he wasn’t about to wake, trusting the bubble for an awesome orgasm. Bill shifted in his sleep and Tom spared him the slightest glance. Once he had looked, he couldn’t look away. With the sheets pulled down to his waist, Bill was a pale, pure idol. His eyelashes fanned over his high cheeks and the pale blue hotel pillows. Tom kept moving his hand as he watched Bill’s lips part slightly and wondered what it would be like to kiss them. His eyes trailed down Bill’s back and when he came, he was fantasising about how it would feel to be buried inside his brother. To truly be one with his twin. The bubble must have approved, because he came spectacularly, choking on a cry as his climax brought tears to his eyes.
Tom never looked at Bill the same way again.
Tom watched Bill sleep and began to shake. He hadn’t been this close to Bill in years. After the revelation that he wanted, desperately wanted to know what it would be like to kiss his brother, to taste his brother, to fuck his brother, he had run as far away from his brother as he could. Tom had run into the arms of a dozen eager girls, to endless pornography and his own right hand. He had run away from how much he wanted Bill. He had run away from the warmth and the safety of the bubble, from the desire that made him shamefully hard when Bill came to him for comfort, cuddles or play. He ran from the need that saw him pressing his forehead to the walls that separated them in the night, thinking his way through the paint and the bricks to come within the bubble, with his beautiful brother. Within him.
He had pushed down his jealousy, every time Bill got close to anyone, he had hidden it, suppressed it, baked it in his belly for fear of showing the world his terrible perversity.
He had pushed Bill away, kept him at arm’s length, hurt him with coldness and neglect until the moment Bill had needed him, really needed his big, strong brother to be paying attention and Tom had failed him. Tom had let Bill be assaulted, scared and very nearly violated in the most intimate, terrible way. Bill might never trust him again. Tom had burst the bubble.
He couldn’t hold his tears back anymore and sobs joined the quaking of his shoulders. Tom’s hands flew to his mouth and he rolled onto his back, shaking uncontrollably and weeping openly for the loss of all innocence. Without his connection to Bill, he would always be alone.
Tom was shaking so much he didn’t notice Bill move until arms surrounded him, pulling him into a comforting embrace. Tom clawed at his brother, burying his face deep in Bill’s hair and apologised and sobbed and protested love to every degree.
His twin made no attempt to quiet him, just held him quietly while he cried.
TBC…
Pairings: Bill/OMC Bill/Tom
Rating: NC17
Summary: Bill can't see what's in front of him.
Warnings: Unbetad. OMC. Violence. Non-con(?) Angst.
Ch1
Bill stopped crying out for Tom. It didn’t hurt anymore. He couldn’t feel anything, and his head was light from screaming. But the weight was gone from his back and he could move his hands. He pulled himself up to sitting, shaking the confusion out of his eyes as he took in the change in scene. Tom was in front of him, leaning over Theo and making a mess of his face. Tom hadn’t broken Theo’s skin, but his cheek and eye were already red and a colossal bruise was inevitable.
“Tom!” Bill cried out, reaching out to his brother and sliding off the sofa onto his knees. Tom smacked Theo’s head into the coffee table and dropped him, throwing himself at Bill and wrapping him into a crushing embrace.
Bill shook uncontrollably, clutching at Tom. Seconds later, Tobi was barrelling through the door and Bill could hear the desperate, furious shake in Tom’s voice as he addressed their friend.
“Look at this, fucking look!” he all but screamed.
“Bill?” Bill heard Tobi asking for him, sounding close to tears himself, but Bill couldn’t respond. Theo hadn’t got any further, but Bill was shirtless and his pants were still hanging open, low on his hips. He was conscious of being half-naked and utterly humiliated. He buried his face in Tom’s chest and pretended not to exist.
“Call the police,” Tom said, his voice strained.
“No!” Bill said, lifting his face away from Tom’s chest. “You can’t. He’ll tell them what we were doing and we can’t… We can’t…”
Tom hushed him, pulling him back in. He pressed his lips to Bill’s temple and rocked him gently, lifting his eyes to address Tobi.
“You take that fucking animal down to Saki and tell him what he did,” Tom insisted. Bill had never heard him angrier. Tobi nodded, shaking with his own fear and fury and grabbed the barely-conscious Theo with one hand, dragging him roughly out of the room.
“He’ll kill him,” Bill whimpered.
“I don’t care,” Tom hissed. Bill stiffened. “Saki won’t kill him,” Tom said. “He’s just going to wish he did.”
“He doesn’t deserve…”
“Jesus, Bill,” Tom said, pulling Bill back to look at him. “What the fuck did he do to you? What did he do to my baby brother?”
“Don’t,” Bill said, shaking his head rapidly. “Please don’t. He didn’t r…” Bill huffed, unable to continue. “You came. I didn’t think you were going to hear me.”
“I shouldn’t have left you,” Tom said bitterly. “I’ll never leave you again.”
“Don’t,” Bill whispered, screwing his fingertips into Tom’s shirt.
#
Bill slept. It took some time, with everyone and their mother feeling the need to come in and fuss, but eventually they realised how little he wanted to see them all and they left. Bill drifted off, with Tom beside him, eyes wide and far from sleep.
Now Tom sat on the edge of the bed, his fingers pressed together and pointed between his knees. His shoulders were slumped and his head hung heavily between them. He breathed, deep and even and slow until his head began to go light. He stared at his own hands, thinking of everything and nothing. Thinking about the bubble.
When Tom was little, Gordon had taken him shopping. Bill was poorly and hadn’t gone with them, but Tom spent most of the day looking for Bill and waiting for him, despite the fact that he wasn’t there. Gordon and Tom had gone to McDonald's and sat eating cheeseburgers and drinking shakes. Tom’s fingers were freezing around his cup and his legs swung a few inches from the floor. Gordon had told him about The Bubble.
There was a bubble, Gordon told him, and it was Bill and Tom’s bubble. It went around both of them at once and it was always there, no matter how far apart they were. Nobody else could get into the bubble; it was definitely a twin thing. When they were close to each other, the bubble was a sphere; bubble shaped! And everything was nice inside it. It’s like each knew what the other was thinking and there needn’t be anyone else in the world. The further away from each other from each other they got, the more the bubble stretched, egg timer shaped. That was why they missed each other. That was why they felt so much better when they were near. They’d had their bubble since before they were born and they would always have it.
Tom hadn’t known what to say. Gordon thought a lot and came out with some things that sounded weird even to Tom and Bill.
“Could I break it?” he asked at length. “If I get too far away from him, or if I leave him alone too long?”
Gordon smiled slowly.
“I don’t think so,” he said thoughtfully. “But I wouldn’t risk it. I wouldn’t know how to fix it.”
Tom shook his head very firmly. He had no intention of risking what he had with Bill.
He never talked to Bill about it. But he knew it was there and sometimes, in the right light, he could swear he could almost see it. It was brightest in the glow of Christmas tree lights, the reflections of fireworks, or the blue lamps that marked their path to the stage.
Everything was better in the bubble.
Turning a little, he looked over his shoulder at his brother. The light was dim and the streetlamps were off. Moonlight kissed them but, even out of the corner of his eye, Tom couldn’t catch so much as a glimpse of the bubble. He let his head drop back between his shoulders. He had ruined it. It was his fault.
He stood, turning immediately as the movement disturbed Bill. Tired, red-rimmed eyes blinked at him.
“I’m just going to the bathroom,” he said quietly. “Sorry I woke you.” Bill blinked and nodded. His eyes stayed closed for a few seconds, then opened again.
“I thought you were going,” Bill whispered.
Tom tilted his head to one side and gazed at his brother.
“Bill,” he said softly, “I…” Bill raised an expectant eyebrow. Tom shook his head. “I’ll be right back.”
Tom washed his hands and pissed. Then he washed his hands again. He scrubbed at his face with cold water and washed his hands again. He still couldn’t clean his fingers of the guilt. His own abandon had terrified him. When he had taken hold of Theo he had wanted to hurt him. He had wanted more than that; he wanted to hurt him so badly he never came near Bill or anyone else, ever again. He wanted to smash him to pieces. He had wanted to beat Theo until he stopped breathing.
And it wasn’t just because he had tried to rape Bill.
Tom turned on a dime, fell to his knees and emptied his stomach into the toilet. Until that moment, he hadn’t allowed himself to think that word. He had almost let his brother be raped. He had almost let his soulmate, his twin, his everything be violated beyond belief. He knew Bill was a virgin, it was a standing joke in the group. Tom helped them mock, but he was so proud of Bill’s innocence that ultimately, he would defend Bill’s choice every time. He loved that Bill remained sweet, naïve and perfect.
Tom rolled onto his backside, spitting into a piece of toilet paper and flushing it. He leant against the bathroom wall and let his head knock against the tiles. The truth was he wanted to punch Theo since the moment he had stepped into their lives. Theo was older than he was and bigger than he was. Theo was quite possibly smarter than he was. And what really upset him was that Theo was a better guitarist than he was.
The day they had met, in a bar-tent backstage at a rock festival, Theo had made an impression. Everyone liked him. Even Gustav and he didn’t like anyone. When Bill said he was going for a walk with him, Jost had shrugged and told him to have fun. Saki had scowled but hadn’t actually said a word against the plan. Tom had just stared at everyone, unable to believe that nobody saw how bad an idea it was to let Bill just wander off with some stranger, no matter how charming he seemed.
More than an hour had passed before they deigned to return, by which point Tom was furious, stomping around, knocking back shots and desperate to know where the hell his brother had gone. Bill had come back looking happy, his cheeks flushed and his lips puffy and red. Bill had clung to Theo like a limpet and Tom already hated him.
Why did Bill have to go out with a guitarist, anyway? He couldn’t have picked a drummer or a bassist or anything else that wouldn’t make Tom insane with insecurity.
Not that he would have been particularly comfortable with anyone who turned up in Bill’s life.
Tom dragged himself up to standing by the sink and slugged a large glass of tap water, swilling his mouth out and washing his hands one last time. He stared at himself in the bathroom mirror for minute after minute, trying to see some reflection of Bill’s innocence in himself.
Seeing nothing, he went back to his sleeping brother.
He dumped his shoes and jeans but kept his shirt on, crawling into bed beside Bill as carefully as he could. Bill never minded if Tom got into his bed, as long as he didn’t kick or wake him up too early. Tom had never done it that often and since they turned 14, it was almost unheard of.
Tom settled down beside his twin, reaching out to trace the fold of the blanket next to his arm. He didn’t touch Bill.
Everything was better in the bubble. Sleep was more refreshing, jokes were funnier. He had more exciting dreams. Games were more fun in the bubble and food tasted better. Tom was just happier in the bubble. Shortly after their 13th birthday, they had gone on holiday and had to share a twin room. Tom had wanked; listening carefully to make sure Bill hadn’t woken up. He moved his hand to the rhythm of Bill’s breathing and, minutes later, he had come so hard the arching of his back and the jerking of his foot broke one of the slats under the mattress. It had never occurred to him that coming in the bubble would be so much better, too.
Tom did it whenever he could. Just being close enough to Bill when he jerked off that he would get one of the truly amazing climaxes.
When they were 14, almost 15, Tom changed. He changed because Bill made him change. They were sharing a room again. They had separate beds but they were so close together it hardly counted. Tom didn’t miss his chance. He pulled at himself as quietly as possible, listening to Bill’s breathing, making sure he wasn’t about to wake, trusting the bubble for an awesome orgasm. Bill shifted in his sleep and Tom spared him the slightest glance. Once he had looked, he couldn’t look away. With the sheets pulled down to his waist, Bill was a pale, pure idol. His eyelashes fanned over his high cheeks and the pale blue hotel pillows. Tom kept moving his hand as he watched Bill’s lips part slightly and wondered what it would be like to kiss them. His eyes trailed down Bill’s back and when he came, he was fantasising about how it would feel to be buried inside his brother. To truly be one with his twin. The bubble must have approved, because he came spectacularly, choking on a cry as his climax brought tears to his eyes.
Tom never looked at Bill the same way again.
Tom watched Bill sleep and began to shake. He hadn’t been this close to Bill in years. After the revelation that he wanted, desperately wanted to know what it would be like to kiss his brother, to taste his brother, to fuck his brother, he had run as far away from his brother as he could. Tom had run into the arms of a dozen eager girls, to endless pornography and his own right hand. He had run away from how much he wanted Bill. He had run away from the warmth and the safety of the bubble, from the desire that made him shamefully hard when Bill came to him for comfort, cuddles or play. He ran from the need that saw him pressing his forehead to the walls that separated them in the night, thinking his way through the paint and the bricks to come within the bubble, with his beautiful brother. Within him.
He had pushed down his jealousy, every time Bill got close to anyone, he had hidden it, suppressed it, baked it in his belly for fear of showing the world his terrible perversity.
He had pushed Bill away, kept him at arm’s length, hurt him with coldness and neglect until the moment Bill had needed him, really needed his big, strong brother to be paying attention and Tom had failed him. Tom had let Bill be assaulted, scared and very nearly violated in the most intimate, terrible way. Bill might never trust him again. Tom had burst the bubble.
He couldn’t hold his tears back anymore and sobs joined the quaking of his shoulders. Tom’s hands flew to his mouth and he rolled onto his back, shaking uncontrollably and weeping openly for the loss of all innocence. Without his connection to Bill, he would always be alone.
Tom was shaking so much he didn’t notice Bill move until arms surrounded him, pulling him into a comforting embrace. Tom clawed at his brother, burying his face deep in Bill’s hair and apologised and sobbed and protested love to every degree.
His twin made no attempt to quiet him, just held him quietly while he cried.
TBC…