Author: paraboobizarre

Title: The Autograph

Pairing: Bill x Tom
Rating: R
Disclaimer: The characters used herein are fictional representations of real people and the actions and situations contained in the fics are no reflection on the real people on which they are based. All characters engaging in sexual acts of any kind are over 18 years of age. I do not believe anything of this ever happened, nor that it should and I do not make any money of this. It's fiction.
Warnings: This is really tame
Summary: It's the aftershow party of the EMAs and well...Eva here sucks at summaries.
AN: YAY for recycling. This is a freaking oooooold ficlet, originally with an OFC but well, I threw her out and had a re-write. Just seemed so fitting after the glorious EMAs yesterday. I like it a lot more in its current shape right now...

“Sooooo....” Tom stretched his legs out, slouching deeper into the settee. Bill sat next to him half-way facing him, one of his legs tucked under himself, the other one dangling from the couch. His elbow was propped up on the couch, face resting in the palm of his hand. He stifled a little yawn. The table in front of them was littered with ash trays and empty bottles and glasses. The others had left to have a shot-competition at the bar, dragging David with them and left them in their little corner, away from the throngs of people crowding the after show party.

 

“So what?” Bill winked at him, taking another sip from his beer, feeling around for his cigarettes.

“So, I want your autograph,” Tom replied evenly. He pointed at the clunky award sitting among the beer bottles on the table in front of them. “You're obscenely famous now, I want an autograph!”

 

Bill coughed up a short laugh but stopped when he realized his brother was serious about it.

“I don't have anything to write and besides, you don't really want my autograph, do you?” Tom dug into his over sized pockets, producing a sharpie moments later. He held it out to Bill with a triumphant smile, enjoying the nonplussed look on his twin's face.

“I have one in every pair of jeans by now. Could I get my autograph now, please?”

 

Bill groaned as he took the pen from him. Tom knew that sound, it wasn't exactly exasperation but more like exasperation mixed with reluctant delight.

 

“Okay, okay...give me some paper or something.” Bill dug through his pockets, producing a battered looking tube of chap stick moments later. The chap stick had a light pearly shine and even over the distance between them, Tom could smell the artificial cherry aroma of it. Bill smacked his lips, flashing him a teasing smile.

“I'll even seal it with a kiss. There you go, you're special!”

A sly smile crept on Tom's face.

 

Bill's jaw almost hit the floor when Tom pulled up his over sized shirt, exposing his stomach and sliding even deeper into the couch. Bill gave him a stern look.

“What do you think you're doing?”

“I want my autograph right here!” Tom tapped a spot somewhere near his belly button and watched his brother's face turning a pretty shade of pink.

 

“Oh come on, like you never signed on your fans before! Don't be such a prude!” Tom teased him, wiggling his hips.

 

“Tom, pull down that goddamn shirt, we're not alone here, you know!” Bill hissed at him through clenched teeth, his face even redder now...if that was even possible. Bill knew Tom could be shockingly audacious but that was almost pushing it too far.

 

“Sign and get it over with, then. Besides, nobody's looking right now, the longer you wait, the higher the chances someone comes back here...” Hesitantly Bill inched closer to him, popping the cap of the sharpie. The moment he was about to sign, Tom interrupted.

 

“Write: For my dear Tom, a truly amazing guitar-player and then your name, okay?” Bill looked up at him, a truly irritated look on his face, growling you're pushing it, mister under his breath, but began writing nonetheless. Tom watched his brother bend over his mid section, his body tensing up under the soft scraping of the pen.

 

Bill was not leaning down half as much as he wished but it was a small triumph after all. A wicked smile spread across his face, as Bill closed the sharpie again, and Tom looked down on himself to examine the autograph.

 

“There. Happy?” The pen landed on his stomach and Bill folded his arms across his chest, his lower lip jutting out in a vague display of defiance.

 

“You forgot the kiss!”

“What?!”

“Sealed with a kiss, that's what you said.” Tom bit the by now maniac grin forming on his face back down.

“I thought I'm special?” He pulled his best puppy look out of the hat, seeing the strained and slightly insecure expression on his brother's face melt into a playful smile.

Bill moved up closer still and lowered his face over his stomach. His fingertip cautiously traced the black writing and Tom shivered under the unexpected touch.

Turning his face upwards, Bill looked at him, an expression of earnest concern on his face.

“But the ink is still wet, I'll get some on my pretty face if I kiss you now.” He bit his lower lip, brows furrowing, as if this really posed a major problem right now.

Before Tom could stutter out some kind of reply, he saw Bill's face light up, the metaphorical light bulb appearing over his brother's head.

“I have an idea!” Bill gently poked his ribs, before his head lowered over his belly again. Tom gasped in surprise as cool breath fluttered across his feverish skin. He writhed under Bill, feeling a hand coming down on his hip, holding him in place as he gently blew on the writing.

“Listen, maybe we should...” He choked out, but was cut off by a whispered no-no from down below;

Tom's breath got caught in his throat as Bill leaned in closer still, some longer strands of hair caressing his skin. He jerked involuntarily as his twin's lips made contact with his skin, pressing down hard, directly over his belly button.

Tom's whole body tensed up for the few seconds, Bill's lips sealed over the spot and he sucked lightly. He was barely aware of a hand languidly tracing along the waistband of his boxers. A low whimper escaped Tom's throat as the tip of Bill's tongue briefly darted inside his belly button, licking him there, before he let go of him.

Bill tugged his shirt down, grabbing the beer bottle again and downing the remains in one go.

Tom stared at his brother dumbfounded, his face now every bit as red as Bill's had been before. He managed to spit out an embarrassed thank you, as he pulled himself up again, reminding himself not to rub across his stomach. He wanted to keep this a little longer. It took every ounce of his willpower not to touch the spot. His skin was tingling like someone had just electroshocked him.

 

“You know what?” Bill lit two cigarettes at once, giving him one, before leaning back against the couch as well, watching the crowd of people in the distance.

“You really shouldn't challenge me like that.” Bill chuckled quietly, before getting up from the settee, weaving his way through the crowds of people towards the bar.