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category: slash, fandom: tokio hotel, ficfest: mmom, fictype: oneshot, fictype: short fic, pairing: none, rating: r to nc17

Bill had just about had it with the whole fame thing, well at least that's how he felt right at that moment. If one more person asked him about girls, he was going to deck them. Did these people have no idea what all these questions did to him and, even worse, dangling beautiful girls in front of him? He was only human and where as Tom seemed able to go out and pick up a girl just to have fun, Bill wasn't into that.

However, he was still a teenage boy and he was kind of desperate. A date with his hand in the near future was beginning to look like a necessity rather than an indulgence. They had been doing an informal sound-bite thing for some reporters and they had a walkabout autograph signing in fifteen minutes and he had a hard on the size of the Eiffel tower. Where as Tom didn't have to worry about people noticing things like that, Bill was very aware that his trousers were far too tight for someone not to see his current problem. There was no way he could walk around with his bag in front of his crotch all day, which was what he had been doing for the last five minutes as he tried to will away his embarrassing reaction.

He was trying to decide what to do when Tom wandered over.

"You're looking stressed," his twin observed; "what's the problem?"

Tom was always looking out for him and he gave his brother a tight smile for trying.

"Hard on," he said shortly in a very quiet voice since he had long since stopped being embarrassed about anything like that in front of Tom, but he didn't want the rest of the world to know.

A little smile broke onto Tom's face at that, for which Bill glared at his twin, but it was kind of funny so he couldn't really blame Tom completely.

"You, Little Brother," Tom said in a whisper, "really need to get laid."

"Yeah, well that's not going to happen in the next fifteen minutes," Bill pointed out, since the advice was completely unhelpful. "I've been trying to get rid of it for the last five minutes and, every time I get somewhere, that hotel liaison walks past and I'm back to square one."

"The one with the nice arse?" Tom said in a conversational tone. "At least you have taste."

Now Bill really glared.

"Not helping," he said shortly.

Tom rolled his eyes, still looking amused.

"Well you can't go out there," Tom indicated the crowd outside the hotel, "like this. Go back to your room and deal with it, I'll cover for you."

Bill thought about it for a second and then nodded; he didn't exactly have much choice.

"You go for the lift, I'll head off David when he comes over to find out what's going on," Tom told him, still obviously amused, but playing the big brother never the less.

"Thanks," he replied before making a beeline for the lift.

He kept his bag glued to his front until he was in his hotel room and the door was closed behind him. Then he threw the bag on the bed and shimmied off his jeans and pants in record time. He really couldn't help the groan of relief the first time he fisted his cock. Maybe Tom was right, maybe he did need to get laid; his body certainly seemed to think so. That, however, was a thought for another time, since he was very much in need of attention now and he didn't have a whole lot of time.

He leant over the bed, holding himself up on one arm while he used his other hand to create the delicious friction that he oh so needed. He knew he didn't have long, but the feeling was so wonderful he wanted to eek it out a little. If he'd really gone at it he would have been over the edge in a couple of strokes; he was that close, but he moved slowly.

"Oh god, yes," he moaned to the empty room.

Fisting his cock in a slow rhythm, he let the pressure build up inside, never giving himself quite enough to go tumbling into orgasm. He needed this to be satisfying or he'd just find himself in the same position in a few hours, which he knew from experience, because he had jerked off quickly in the shower that morning and he'd been horny again by lunch time.

Knowing he couldn't prolong it very much no matter how slowly he went, he gradually began to speed up, feeling the wonderful tightness in his balls. The memory of the hotel liaison made a good mental image on which to focus; not that he really needed it as he felt his orgasm rushing towards him. For some reason, the woman in his mind suddenly had blond hair rather than brown and she became much slimmer than he remembered, but he really didn't care as he shuddered and came all over his hand and the bed sheets.

It was such a good orgasm that it took him a few seconds to bring his body back under control and he had no choice but to stay in the same position until the motor centre of his brain began working again. He had really needed that and he couldn't help smiling to himself as he gathered his wits back together.

He wiped his hand on the sheets and then used them to wipe himself off as well. They needed changing anyway so he hid the stain in the folds and then hurriedly pulled up his clothes, shuffling into the bathroom to properly clean up with a flannel before tidying up his outfit.

Looking at himself in the mirror he did his best to wipe away the dopey, post orgasm expression and rearranged his hair simply because he could. Picking up his deodorant he gave himself a quick spray just in case and then headed back downstairs. He felt much better now.

"Okay?" Georg asked as he walked up to the others.

"Yes," Bill said with a big smile, "why?"

He was feeling very relaxed now and he asked in all innocence without thinking the question through.

"Because you disappeared ten minutes ago looking frazzled and about to snap and now you're mellow and smiling," Gustav pointed out. "Either you've been smoking something you shouldn't or you got lucky in a very short amount of time."

Tom laughed as he blushed; there was no avoiding the subject now.

"I had a bit of an urgent problem," he said, trying not to sound too embarrassed, "but it's taken care of now."

"Bill," Georg said and patted him on the shoulder, "you need to find yourself a girlfriend."

"That's the third time this week," Gustav agreed with a laugh.

"It's not my fault," Bill protested as the others teased him; "I can't help it if my twin is perpetually horny and it rubs off on me. He gets laid, I don't, what else am I supposed to do?"

"Take care of it before it becomes a pressing issue," Georg offered a little sage advice.

"I do," Bill said, a little louder than he had intended.

That set Tom off laughing even louder and Gustav was still sniggering. Bill pouted and Georg managed to look sympathetic for about ten seconds before laughing as well. It was all so unfair; he was sure this was Tom's fault somehow and yet he was the one who suffered. It was a bitch being a twin sometimes.

The End