when the gales of November come early (kishmet) wrote,
when the gales of November come early
kishmet

Avon Calling, 9/?

Avon Calling, Tokio Hotel, Bill/Tom (not related), PG-13ish. When the sexiest Avon sales representative ever shows up at Tom Kaulitz's door, Tom is forced to question his sexuality, his morals, and his woeful lack of cosmetics knowledge.

I am the master of eleventh hour posting.


It was Tom's turn to stare at Bill, blinking uncomprehendingly for a second. "Oh," said Tom, once his brain had decided to start functioning again. "Okay." On the one hand, he hadn't honestly believed love at first kiss could occur outside of Disney movies and chick flicks. On the other hand, his chances of reaching second base with Bill had just improved considerably, he figured.

Bill bit his lip, and his smile faded in a way that tugged at Tom's heartstrings, making him wonder if he could have fallen in love with Bill without even realizing what he was doing. "Okay?" Bill asked, sounding anxious. "You mean you don't..." he trailed off.

"Hey, no." Tom reached and took hold of Bill's hips, tugging Bill onto his lap. He probably would've been able to lift Bill's slight frame even if Bill hadn't been cooperating with him, but Bill straddled Tom's thighs willingly enough. Bill's hand dropped from Tom's cheek to his shoulder, steadying himself and gazing at Tom, wearing an expression Tom would've guessed was half nervous, half hopeful. "Hey," Tom repeated, rubbing Bill's back. Bill was even more slender than he looked; Tom could feel Bill's spine through his shirt, and the urge to treat Bill carefully became even stronger.

I'm gay, and I'm in love, Tom thought, giving the idea a try. He wasn't quite convinced, so he tried again. I'm gay, and I'm in love with Bill. There was that spark of static electricity again, and Tom looked into Bill's beautiful, dark eyes, and gave Bill a dopey, crooked grin. "I think I might be in love with you, too."

Right answer, Tom decided, as Bill's eyes lit up with delight. "Oh, Tom, really?"

"Yeah," Tom replied, and went in for another kiss. Being in love with Bill had to mean that Tom would be allowed to kiss those lips to his heart's content, which meant there was no downside. Bill met him eagerly, bumping their noses at first, but before Bill could do more than flush and say "I'm sor-", Tom was smiling, reaching up to guide Bill's face to an angle that would work for both of them. Their mouths melded together without further problem, and Bill actually let out a tiny whimper when Tom brushed the tip of his tongue against the roof of Bill's mouth, experimenting to find out what Bill liked.

Bill wriggled distractingly on Tom's lap, and instinct told Tom that second base was right around the corner. He tugged at Bill's shirt where it was tucked artistically into Bill's jeans on one side, granting himself better access when the time did come. In the process, though, his thumb touched the bare skin just above Bill's hip, and Bill made another enticing sound, shivering and shifting his weight restlessly over Tom. "Oh," Tom murmured, "hey," and he slid a hand under Bill's shirt and all up his back, and Bill gasped and arched into it as though he'd been designed specifically to react to Tom's touch.

"Wow." This time when Tom stared at Bill, it was in awe. Bill's chest was rising and falling with quick, shallow little breaths, and his eyes were hazy. He licked his glossy lips, and said "mm" softly, when Tom gave in to temptation and licked them too, a second later.

"I like kissing," Bill concluded, giving Tom a small, sweet kiss, taking Tom's lower lip briefly between his.

"Yeah, um, me too," said Tom faintly. "Do you want to, maybe, go see my room?"

"Oh my god," said Bill, and skittered off Tom's lap as though Tom's pants had suddenly caught fire. Tom opened his mouth to apologize for being such a disgusting, horny pig, and to explain that his invitation had been a compliment, really, because his room was something of a sanctuary to him and his making out with girls was usually reserved for the sofa until he knew them better, or unless they were ridiculously hot.

But then the click of the front door opening registered in Tom's mind, and all he could do was gape stupidly as his mother called, "Tom? Come help me unload these groceries."
Tags: avon
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