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

Avon Calling, 24/?

Avon Calling, Tokio Hotel, Bill/Tom (not related), PG-13 for, uh, sexiness. 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.

Apparently a kidney infection means I'm going to bounce randomly between fics before returning to my regularly scheduled posting. So here, some Avon for your time!


"I can't believe I did that," said Tom, dazed.

"It was the right thing to do," Bill repeated, patting the arm by which he was leading Tom gently but firmly to the Audi. They'd each gotten a double scoop of strawberry ice cream on a sugar cone, but even a hearty serving of sugar-laden goodness couldn't break Tom out of the trance the apology had put him into. He'd made an executive decision to escape with Bill and their dessert, leaving the wondering eyes of his friends behind, but then he'd lapsed back into shock.

"You don't get it," Tom replied despairingly. "I never apologized to Nicole, even when we were dating. Especially when we were dating."

"There's a first time for everything, Tom," said Bill, clearly making an attempt to be encouraging. "You did so well." Some tiny portion of Tom's mind perked up its ears, like a dog who'd just learned to roll over and was now anticipating a tasty reward. "People skills are so important," Bill continued brightly. "You have to understand that others are going to see you in a better light, if you show a little humility when you have to. If I, as an Avon representative, even suspect I've offended a customer, I will get down on my knees- metaphorically, of course-"

A few of Tom's neuron's short-circuited at the idea of Bill on his knees, more literally than metaphorically. "Buh-" he began. He might have meant to say Bill's name, or the word 'but,' or he might simply have been making a sound that dated back to the Stone Age, made by the males when an attractive cavewoman (or man) walked by. Even Tom wasn't sure which one it was.

"-and beg their forgiveness. Hm?" Bill gave Tom an inquisitive glance.

"Uh, nothing," said Tom. "Hey, your ice cream's melting. Look out-"

"Oh!" Bill lifted the cone and licked a trailing drip from it before it could reach his thumb. His tongue stud flashed in the fading sunlight, and another handful of Tom's neurons exploded. Tom was fairly sure he whimpered. Bill let out the most sinful 'mmm' Tom had ever heard, apparently oblivious to the problems he was causing in both of Tom's heads, as it were.

"Bill," Tom spoke up, against his better judgment. "Y'know, I really, wow. Nicole was right. I do love you," he added, to clarify.

Bill flashed a sweet, delighted smile. "I love you too. What brought that on?"

Tom shrugged, giving Bill a sidelong grin. "Well, I didn't jump your bones, even though you eating ice cream is pretty much the hottest thing I've ever seen." The sensible side of Tom's brain was screaming reverse! reverse! too late! while the other parts were dreamily fantasizing about Bill's tongue and piercing.

"Oh- what?" Bill's cheeks were turning a shade of pink that nicely complemented the color of the ice cream.

"Whoa, I mean, I'm sorry," Tom hastened to tack on, remembering Bill's speech. If Bill even suspected that a customer had taken offense, he apologized. Tom wondered if maybe he should go down on his knees again for Bill, then cut that thought off before any more of his neurons could suffer the same terrible fate as their comrades. And wasn't that interesting: the idea of going down on Bill, of blowing Bill, didn't seem like a bad one. In fact, Tom could just picture Bill's flushed face and the moans and cries he would make while Tom applied his lips and tongue to Bill's-

Shit.

But Bill was looking shyly at Tom through his long lashes. "You think it's hot?"

"Oh my god, I know it's hot," Tom assured him.

There was a flicker in Bill's eyes, of something Tom couldn't identify quickly enough before it was gone. Then Bill bent his head toward the ice cream cone and gave it a long lick, dragging the tip of his tongue from the cone all the way to the tip of the double scoop. Bill blushed nearly crimson when he was finished, and all Tom could do was stare. The rest of his previously functional brain cells had just imploded.
Tags: avon
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