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

Avon Calling, 14/?

Avon Calling, Tokio Hotel, Bill/Tom (not related), definitely PG-13 now. 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.

Bill's eyes slipped shut, and Tom grinned into the kiss, tightening his grip to bring Bill flush against him. At that, Bill made another little sound, half moan, half sigh, that was on the verge of making Tom's interest in more than kissing a lot more noticeable. Bill rubbed his lips restlessly across Tom's, and Tom slid his tongue out to delve into Bill's mouth, which opened for him, all warm and ready.

One of Tom's hands traveled down to Bill's ass by sheer instinct, and the soft, anxious noise Bill made seemed encouraging, combined with the way Bill shifted against him, clutching Tom's shirt. "Shh," Tom soothed, when they had to part to gasp for breath. He kneaded Bill's ass gently, and Bill whimpered, his eyes flying open to meet Tom's. His eyes were hazy, but he also looked surprised. Tom had to remind himself that Bill had never been kissed before that day, so he probably hadn't been groped before, either.

"Hey," Tom said softly, moving his hand back up to stroke comforting circles over Bill's back. "It's okay. Feels good?"

Even Bill's flawless makeup couldn't hide his crimson cheeks. "Tom," he protested, biting at his lower lip, which was redder and slightly swollen as a result of their kisses. It was so adorable, Tom couldn't resist going in for a tiny, relatively chaste kiss. "Yes," Bill murmured, sounding almost more dazed after that kiss than he had after the first one. "Feels amazing."

"So, do you want to-" Tom began, about to make an innocent suggestion that they pay a visit to his room. He wasn't planning to work those tight jeans off Bill, or to get the shirts off both of them, or even to possibly get both of them as naked as possible as quickly as possible. But he wasn't at all opposed to the idea, and hey, if it happened, it happened, right? Tom knew how to be gentle, and sure, Bill was a virgin, but he was so responsive to all of Tom's touches. In light of the evidence, Tom was so sure sex with Bill would be fantastic, and he was already imagining Bill, bare and letting out those pretty pleading sounds underneath him, sweat dampening his gorgeous long hair and smearing his makeup.

Tom didn't get the opportunity to find out whether Bill would agree to his suggestion, though at the moment Bill was looking breathless and rumpled and like he would follow Tom just about anywhere. But Simone called suddenly from the kitchen, "Boys? Come give me a hand with dinner."

With anyone else, Tom would have pretended not to hear and sneaked off with the girl of the day. Bill was so flustered by the summons, though, glancing toward the kitchen and then back at Tom. "We should probably," said Bill, still short of breath.

"Yeah," said Tom, willing to listen because the notion came from Bill. "Okay."

Bill smiled bashfully and pulled away, taking one of Tom's hands and linking their fingers together. Tom tucked their joined hands in by his hip, and Bill laughed and squeezed Tom's hand, sounding giddy for a second. "Sorry," said Bill, giving him a shy, happy sideways look. "This is so new, and it's wonderful."

"It is, yeah." Tom grinned at Bill. He didn't say it, but the non-sexual part of the relationship - what he'd formerly called 'touchy-feely crap' to his guy friends - was actually new to him, too. Sure, girls had tried to hang all over him, but that usually meant he loved 'em and left 'em as quickly as he could. Bill was different. Bill was... well, Bill.

They meandered into the kitchen together, and Simone glanced at them, smiling ever so slightly when her eyes flicked down to their joined hands. She shook her head a moment later, tapping the open page of her cookbook. "Good, good. I'm putting you two to work," she informed them, and Tom groaned inwardly, while Bill beamed at her. "Bill, if you could give the sauce on the stove a stir every few minutes?"

"Of course!" Bill agreed, giving Tom's hand another squeeze before he broke away to prance over to the stove.

Tom's eyes glazed as he stared after Bill's attractive rear end, and he only snapped out of his trance when Simone said, "Tom," more loudly than necessary.

"Yes, mother?" Tom grumbled, sliding his now-lonely hand into the pocket of his jeans.

"Finish chopping these peppers and onions for me?" Simone requested, though it wasn't really a question. "Just a couple. I'm going to throw them into the sauce once it's cooked awhile."

Tom looked over at Bill, who had taken up a wooden spoon and was brandishing it with apparent pleasure, stirring the sauce around. "Okay," Tom replied, giving his mother a baleful look. He shuffled over to the cutting board Simone had laid out, and took up the serrated knife, twirling it in case Bill was watching and would be impressed.

"No more of that," Simone scolded him mildly. "You'll take a finger off one of these days."

"I will not!" Tom ducked his head and set to chopping with determination, while Simone started preparing a cut of beef beside him on the counter. He glanced up after a minute or two, hearing the faint sound of music from behind him, and he had to bite his tongue to keep a smile from his face when he realized it was Bill, humming a sweet, simple tune. Maybe, thought Tom, he could pull out his guitar and practice a little, if Bill liked music.

He finished chopping the vegetables in record time, scooping them together into the center of the board so it would be easier for Simone to dump them into the pot. Tom set the knife down, and despite Simone's sidelong look at him, he stole on tiptoe over to the stove, where Bill was stirring and humming absently. Much as Tom didn't want to interrupt, he did want to touch Bill, and the two desires were mutually exclusive. "Hi," Tom greeted in a low voice, and the melody Bill was humming stopped as Bill peeked over his shoulder, smiling.

"Hi, Tom," said Bill, adding "mm" when Tom came up behind him, resting his hands on Bill's slender hips. Tom fitted himself right against Bill, his chest to Bill's back, and leaned in to kiss the side of Bill's neck, nosing a stray lock of hair out of the way. Bill smelled like shampoo and something lightly musky that was probably his own scent, and Tom nuzzled into the crook of Bill's neck, wanting more. "Tom!" Bill chided him in a whisper. "Simone is-"

"I know, I know," said Tom, with a quiet laugh. Bill was too cute. "You wanna maybe-" He was about to invite Bill to sneak off with him when Simone interrupted again.

"Tom? Some help with the potatoes?" Simone asked him.

"You'd better go," Bill murmured, nudging Tom gently with an elbow.

Tom nipped at Bill's earlobe first, just to be contrary, and Bill squeaked. "Go on!" said Bill, lifting the spoon and waving it at him, every inch of bared skin flushed a pretty shade of pink. With great reluctance, Tom let go of Bill, turning to narrow his eyes at Simone. She raised an eyebrow at him, gesturing to the potatoes she'd mentioned. Maybe she did need a hand, but her timing had been absolutely horrible, twice in a row. Almost-

He frowned. Almost as though she was doing it on purpose.
Tags: avon
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