Captivation

Chapter 41. The End

This is not what I expected. I thought that if the twins showed up for this meeting they might want to talk, to ask me questions, to find out exactly why I did what I did. Maybe they’d tell me how much they hated me. Or maybe they’d thank me for changing their lives. Maybe they’d just show up to see if I was alive or not. Never did I imagine that they’d ask to be taken back to my hideout for a second kidnapping.

“My God,” I breathe in dismayed amazement. “You both have Stockholm Syndrome!”

“No, we don’t,” Tom argues. “We are in our right minds and know what we’re asking.”

“Maybe you never had it but I know Bill definitely did,” I claim, looking at the tall brunette. “The way you acted towards me in captivity…what else could it have been?”

“Not THAT,” Bill states, sounding slightly offended. “I researched Stockholm Syndrome when I got home and a lot of stuff didn’t even match up to the descriptions I read. You weren’t controlling, intimidating and abusive towards me. You didn’t threaten me or try to isolate me from Tom. You didn’t make me fear for my life.”

“I did do those things, Bill. To both you and Tom.”

“Only at the beginning, when you were trying to remain distant and detached from us,” the thinner twin maintains. “Towards the end, when we got to know each other better, you were showing your true colours and I was never scared of you or afraid that you’d hurt me if I didn’t behave, like the reports said I should have been. You cared about us, Koji – about ME – and I cared about you too.”

“But that’s exactly it,” I persist. “You identified with me, Bill. You sympathised with me even though I kidnapped you, and that’s one of the major traits of the condition.”

“Perhaps, but if I did have Stockholm Syndrome at the start, it changed to something else by the time I went home. If I was solely under some kind of captivity-related delusion, then whatever I felt for you should have faded after you let us go, shouldn’t it?” Bill challenges. “I should have gradually come back to reality and realised you were a monster. I should have hated you. But guess what? I didn’t. Twelve months later and nothing has changed for me. Therefore, my feelings were real. And still are.”

Glancing at Tom, I query in bewilderment, “And what does your big brother think of these ‘feelings’ you supposedly have for me?”

“Tom knows they’re real too but he also knows that my feelings for him remain the same. He will always be my soul mate but I have enough room in my heart for another person. Koji, you said that it’s possible to love two people at once. Well, that’s exactly what’s happened. And don’t tell me I’m a foolish boy who doesn’t know what love is because I do,” Bill declares fearlessly. “That second person? I’m looking at him right now and he’s the one who doesn’t know love when he sees it.”

My heart skips a few beats as his words sink in.

What he told me that day in my room was the truth. I didn’t believe him then and made him get out but he meant it. He loved me back then and he still does, even after everything I’ve done, even after all this time.

“I know you said that you prefer to be alone, but could you possibly let us stay with you again?” Bill is gazing into my eyes as intensely as he did the morning he kissed me goodbye, with a mixture of strong yearning and desperation. “Just for a few days? We flew all the way here to meet you and don’t want to go back to LA yet.”

It takes me a while to answer.

“If I let you come with me, you’ll have to stay in your old room,” I propose hesitantly. “Won’t that bring back bad memories for you?”

“No.” Bill shakes his head emphatically. “That’s precisely where we want to be. That room feels more like home than our own home does these days.”

Trying to think of reasons why they shouldn’t return, I then say lamely, “I haven’t cleaned it since you’ve been gone. It probably smells and the sheets are dirty.”

“We’ll help you clean and make the bed again,” the younger twin offers, unfazed. “After all, we’re the ones who left it that way.”

“Well, you do realise you’ll be recorded, right? You saw the disc I left in your luggage?”

“Yeah, we saw it,” Tom joins in unconcernedly. “At least we know where the cameras are this time and can give you some better angles.”

“And this time we could all watch the recording together,” Bill adds. “Especially if you’re going to be in it with us.”

Floored by their calm acceptance of my voyeurism, I question again, “Are you boys certain? If I take you with me today, I will have to keep you for at least a whole week. A few days won’t be enough and I won’t let you go until I’m sure you’ll both be okay.”

“We don’t want to be let go,” the brunette vocalist returns longingly. “We want back in for as long as we can.”

“What about you, Tom?” I look to the older twin in concern. “Is this what you want, really?”

“I want whatever Bill wants,” he echoes.

“Why?”

“Because when he’s not happy, I’m not happy.”

“And you would do anything for him?”

“Of course.”

Needing to know if he’s parroting off meaningless phrases like a programmed robot or if he actually has changed in the months since I’ve spoken with him last, I enquire, “Do you believe in Genetic Attraction now?”

“Yes, I do. All the stories you were telling us, all the things you said about blood and bonding and stuff …It makes sense,” Tom tries to explain, glancing to his duplicate sibling. “I understand it now.”

“So, you still have sexual contact with each other?”

“Yeah. Well, not every day because we simply don’t have the time or the energy,” the bigger male amends, “but yeah. We do.”

“Do you still sleep with women?”

He shrugs. “Occasionally, when I feel like it.”

“And men too?”

“No. No men,” Tom states firmly. “Only Bill.”

“Bill?” I turn my line of questioning to the second twin, easily falling back into the interrogator role I used to play in the conference room. “What about you? Do you sleep with men or women?”

“Both,” he answers casually. “But as Tom said, only when I feel like it. Most of the time I prefer to be with him.”

I focus on the guitarist again. “Tom, you used to think it was wrong to touch your little brother. How does it feel to you now?”

“Not wrong. Not anymore. When we make love, it is one of the only right things in my life. I always wanted that deep closeness with Bill - I just didn’t recognise it for what it was back then. When I tried to stop him from going to your room, I thought I was being protective. Turns out, I was mainly just jealous, because I didn’t want him to be with anyone else.”

It’s pleasantly surprising, hearing Tom openly admitting what I knew all along to be true. “And now? How do you feel about sharing Bill with other people?”

“Now I don’t mind. I am secure enough to let him go whenever he wants and he does the same for me. In the end, Bill always comes back to my side and I always come back to his.”

Tom gives Bill a grateful look for this freedom and Bill awards him a tiny smile. In spite of their troubled situation, the depth of their intimacy is still evident.

“That’s part of the reason why I am here today,” the braided musician furthers. “Our lives are insane and we need an escape. Something more than drugs or one-night stands with strangers. Every day, I can feel how unhappy Bill is and I would do anything to change that. Don’t get me wrong - we are thankful to be together but something is missing.”

“And what is that?” I query. “What will make Bill happy again?”

“Being with you.” Tom doesn’t even sound envious or resentful as he says it. Again, pleasantly surprising. “Bill’s been calling out for you in his sleep and sometimes he wakes up crying so I want that to stop.”

The slimmer twin is blushing and has lowered his lashes abashedly but he doesn’t disagree with what his big brother is telling me.

“Will that make you happy too, Tom? Being down in my basement with me again?” I press, wishing to hear it from him directly.

“I believe so, yeah.” He unflinchingly meets my eyes and I can see the bone-dry emptiness behind his gaze, his flat voice reflecting that unfilled void. “We fucking need this, man. We need to feel alive again. I know it goes against everything I used to say, and proves that we’re just as messed up as you are, but we miss you bossing us around and shit. We miss the games and the fighting and the drama and the sex. All of it. Call it Stockholm’s, call it whatever the fuck you want but we need what only YOU can give us, Koji, okay?”

Apart from when I made him cry in the conference room and forced him to admit that he loved Bill, I’ve never heard Tom be so bluntly honest and yet so painfully vulnerable at the same time. The fact that he called me by my name is also unusual and highlights how dire this situation is. Before they met me, their idea of taking a break and recharging would have been a couple of days at the beach but it appears that just won’t cut it anymore.

“Take us. Help us. Please.” Bill holds out one trembling hand, seeming alarmingly close to tears. “Or don’t you want us anymore?”

It’s like they’re on the edge of breaking point, needing to be saved and rescued from the world that’s bleeding them out and wearing them down to empty, hollow shadows. If they don’t get the assistance they so clearly require, they’re going to fall apart, self-destruct, disappear. And Tokio Hotel will be no more. Tom and Bill will be no more. Just two burnt-out stars in the sky. Wanting to do something to put the light back in their weary eyes - to make them smile and laugh again - I reach over and take Bill’s fragile outstretched fingers, clasping his hand between both of mine to still his shaking.

“Of course I still want you, Bill,” I respond quietly. “My feelings never faded either.”

I stroke the back of his knuckles, lifting one of my hands to cup his quavering chin.

“I still think you’re the prettiest boy I’ve ever seen. I still think you’re the sweetest, kindest, most caring person I’ve ever met. And you’re right – I didn’t know love when I saw it. But now I do, because I feel the same way when I look at you.”

His almond-shaped eyes grow larger when he hears my admission. With the pad of my thumb, I circle around the beauty spot on his chin (which he thankfully hasn’t gotten rid of) and trace the curve of his top lip. Touching the smoothness and softness of his youthful skin again makes all the old desire I felt for him come crashing back down on me like a tidal wave and I impulsively take Bill’s face in my palms, my mouth descending upon his, kissing him just as needily as he did to me on the day he went home. He gasps, his lips parting under mine, and as our tongues connect a hit of electricity jolts us both like a lightning strike. Shutting his eyes, his hands clutch at the lapels of my unbuttoned coat and the younger twin presses against me, wanting to be nearer. He definitely has a nipple ring; I can feel the hard circular object digging into my chest, underneath his hoodie.

I can also feel Bill’s hipbones, his slim frame much skinnier than it was before. This concerns me but I’ll soon fix that by providing all his favourite foods and making sure he eats, even if I have to feed him each morsel with my fingers. I remember how he bit me with those sharp teeth once but I don’t have to worry about that this morning, my returned captive opening up and letting the kiss happen as it should have months ago. He tastes like everything I had imagined and more: smoke, peppermint gum and indescribable sweetness.

Moaning in his throat, the brunette singer slips his hands inside my coat, boldly gathering up the front of my silver shirt so he can touch my bare stomach, his palms sliding restlessly across my olive flesh as if to reassure himself that I am real, that I am actually here. He always did like touching my skin and I always liked him doing it, his cool fingers invoking chill-bumps all over me from head to foot. As he’s stroking my belly – his painted fingertips outlining every one of my ab muscles – Bill kisses me in return, his tongue a tame creature compared to my brazenly probing one.

Though I am somewhat out of practice in the art of kissing, I still remember what to do – how to delve in at depth, swirl my tongue around his and then withdraw, repeating the penetrating motion so that it feels like a sexual act. In actuality, kissing Bill is far sexier and more sensual than the time I made him come in his jeans. Today, I’m not restraining myself, showing the androgynous young man just how strongly I’ve been missing and needing him all these lonely months on my own, proving it without the use of any words. After desiring this kiss for so long, I never want it to end so I stretch it out for as long as possible, cupping his face with my hands and caressing his angular cheekbones with both thumbs, smudging his carefully-applied powder blusher. I toy with that silver tongue-stud of his from both sides, top and bottom, thoroughly and deeply exploring every inch of Bill’s gorgeous mouth, something I didn’t do last time I was with him.

He wouldn't have stopped me then and he doesn’t stop me now, and neither does Tom who is standing by respectfully, keeping careful watch around us so nobody sees his little brother making out with another man.

Requiring air, I eventually have to break away, leaving both of us breathing fast and with erratically skipping hearts. Bill looks as if he’s in a daze, his shadowed eyelids half-masted and lips slackened and shiny, the slender singer seeming as though he’s already starting to forget his worldly troubles.

“I’ve owed you one of those forever,” I confess, swiping my thumb over his moist bottom lip. “It was totally worth the wait, though.”

“Oh, fuck yeah. Totally was,” he replies in a breathless manner, appearing giddy and dizzy. He’s probably thinking that if kissing is this awesome, what’s it going to be like when we’re naked in bed together? Feeling giddy myself, I can’t be the only one wondering.

“I’ve wanted to do that, and more, ever since I first took you from that park, put you in my van and brought you back to my basement,” I return, admitting the whole truth. “From the moment you woke up in that chair with ropes around your wrists to the morning I let you go home, I’ve been completely captivated by you, Bill. And I still am. I’ve thought about you every single day since you’ve been gone.”

“You have?”

“I really have. At night as well, just so you know.” My voice turns teasing. “I’ve had some super-hot dreams about you, baby.”

“Oh, is that so?” Pleased and flattered by my response, he arches a pierced brow and says flirtatiously, “I expect to hear all about them tonight, in great detail.”

He smiles at me, his dark eyes holding the promise of a special reward later on. It will be interesting to see his reaction when I show him my new triple-dragon tattoo and tell him of the erotic threesome dreams that I have also had (and hope to make a reality now that they’re both willing to be ‘abducted’ again).

“I’ve thought about you too, Tom,” I say next, turning to the first twin before he feels forgotten about, grabbing him by the shoulders and pulling him in for a tight hug. He tenses up at first, unused to such close contact with me, but when I whisper in his ear how very glad I am to see him and how he’s been in my dreams as well, he relaxes, letting me embrace his fit figure with both arms, the braided boy resting his chin on my shoulder. In fact, he even gets unexpectedly emotional, swallowing hard and apologising for shooting me again.

“I’m so fucking sorry, man,” he says to me, his voice cracking. “I didn’t really want to kill you. I didn’t!”

“It’s okay,” I murmur, smoothing my palms up and down his spine comfortingly. “I know you didn’t mean it. I know that.”

Tom is almost crying so I pull back to meet his gaze but he avoids eye contact with me, ashamed of his past actions. Drawing the neckline of my shirt across to expose the healed-over bullet wound near my collarbone, I force him to confront his mistake.

“Look at it, Tom.” My tone is commanding. “Look!”

His glistening eyes flicker upward reluctantly, his expression tightening in a grimace as he clearly sees what he did to me, how the skin has thickened and crinkled around the indented injury on my chest, pale pink and delicate new flesh having formed in the centre.

“I love this scar,” I say in a softer voice. “You know why? Because YOU gave it to me, that’s why. Every time I look at it, Tom, it reminds me of you. I never thought I’d see your beautiful face again so to have you come back here makes me so damn happy, honey. I don’t need to find room in my heart for you because you’re already there, right next to Bill.”

Even when I cover up my scar, the sensitive-souled guitarist still looks upset so as a means of distraction I lean in, planting a kiss on his pierced lips. Tom stiffens in surprise to begin with, automatically trying to push me away but then, remembering that he has nothing to prove this time and that he ASKED to be with me again, he stops fighting. Instead, he becomes passive - lowering his lashes, unclenching his jaw and allowing himself to get kissed properly.

As I do that – moving my lips slowly and softly upon his - my fingers cradle the back of Tom’s head, fingers sliding into his dark hair. His old blond dreads used to be spongy and matted. The new narrow cornrows feel much nicer - smoother, glossier, the texture of the tightly-woven braids very pleasant to the touch, like satin ropes. His hairstyle may be different and his earlobes have huge holes in them but he still smells the same, all musky maleness and sexy spice. I’ve missed that scent. Hell, I’ve missed everything about him.

Holding Tom’s head still, I ease his lips apart with my tongue. His entire six foot-one frame jerks a little at the sudden intrusion but he lets me continue. The inside of his mouth is hot, wet and slick, his taste smoky and masculine – slightly different to Bill’s sweetness but equally addictive. I tug the muscular male closer, recalling just how much his hard body next to mine turns me on. Tom started off being permissive but he soon begins to demonstrate his more aggressive side, gripping my waist with his strong hands, pushing me against the side of the van and starting to kiss me back with purpose, much to my exhilarated delight.

When I attempt to slide my palms beneath the sides of baggy top he’s wearing to feel the warmth of his tanned skin, he halts me, grasping and pinning my wrists to the vehicle behind me with his calloused fingers, preventing me from touching him. His knee forces between my legs, his muscled thigh pressing into my groin, crushingly hard. I can only gasp into his mouth, the mingled pain and pleasure taking my breath clean away. He’s probably doing it as punishment because I neglected to let him know I wasn’t dead. I would never allow anyone else to treat me this way but when Tom does it, when he acts like the alpha male and can do whatever he pleases with me, I just get all weak at the knees. We both know I could pull out of his grip and knock him flat on his back in two seconds but I don’t even try. This is a familiar pattern – Tom wanting to be the dominant partner as in most of our previous encounters – but at least he’s not afraid of intimacy with me anymore, and I couldn’t be happier with his transformation so I’m fine with letting him take the lead. Mostly. I give him a small nip of my teeth here and there to remind him that I can be aggressive when I wanna be too.

As we kiss with the same fiery passion we displayed back when we’d argue and fight, I emit a muffled groan, loving how Tom’s thigh is pressed between mine, the beads of his lip-ring digging into the corner of my mouth – each sensation tangible evidence that this is really happening. All the tension that used to boil between us comes out in a different way today, the tough-talking guitarist finally doing something he would have never done twelve months before, our tongues tangling and battling in a deliciously arousing manner.

Beside us, Bill watches, the thinner young man not at all envious but thrilled that Tom and I are actually getting along for once, without yelling or trying to beat each other up. I bet he’s looking forward to seeing Tom and I doing more than kissing.

When the bigger boy eventually pulls back and releases my wrists, he appears every bit as affected by the experience as his younger sibling was, Tom licking my saliva off his lower lip while raising an impressed brow.

“Damn,” he mutters. “Bill always wondered if you were a good kisser. Guess we both know now.”

I smirk at him while straightening my coat-sleeves. Well, he better get used to it. Tom is gonna be kissed to death before the week is over, to make up for all the times he wouldn’t let me do it a year ago. So will Bill.

“C’mere, you guys,” I say affectionately, yanking the twins in for a group hug, squeezing them both together with firm fondness. “God, I missed you boys SO much – you have no freaking idea.”

“We missed you too, Koji,” Bill mumbles into my coat.

Before either of them can say anything more, I open the van’s door and roughly shove Bill inside like a farmer would with a bag of fertiliser, subsequently gripping the front of Tom’s hoodie in my other hand and assertively hauling his butt through the vehicle’s sliding side panel too. I take a quick look around, ensuring there are no witnesses to my deed. A business woman holding a take-away cup of coffee passes by the entrance to the street I’m standing on, her high heels clicking on the road as she heads back to her car on the way to work, but she doesn’t even glance down this way. Nobody has seen what I’ve done except the two boys I’m about to kidnap. The pair of them have been taken off-guard by my abrupt attack, stumbling to their hands and knees on the floor-mattress and dropping their backpacks, staring at me from the cargo hold of my van with shocked astonishment in their identical faces.

But this is what they want, isn’t it?

Being held captive again and having all the stresses and pressures of the outside world just disappear? No shows, no interviews, no made-up news reports. No ruthless stalkers, no intrusive photographers or screaming, demanding crowds. No other people whatsoever. Just me and them and our private, exhilarating little games of attraction, seduction and submission. They know about the hidden video cameras and don’t seem to mind. Perhaps the idea of being recorded again excites them, even. Things will be very different between us all this time, because they’re here willingly.

Unlike all those months ago, there won’t be any humiliating interrogations in the conference room and I won’t have to use threats or violence to make the twins co-operate. I won’t have to push or bully them into being intimate with each other because they’ve already done that. And they’re still doing it, albeit in secret. They just want to share it with me, the one person who won’t judge them for their forbidden relationship. The one person they can be their true selves in front of. The one person who doesn’t care what sexual orientation they are or what they do with their hair.

The one and only person who completely understands them and their unique needs.

I’ll ensure Bill and Tom don’t regret their decision to come back. I’ll take good care of them and make these troubled young celebrities feel like the most treasured, adored, special prisoners on the whole planet. I’ve kept their underground chamber exactly as it was, and the games room with all the arcade equipment, ball pit and bouncy boxing ring is still there too, everything covered in drop-sheets to keep the dust off. We’ll uncover it all and have fun together in that room, like we used to. We’ll drink and eat and play, laugh and wrestle and snuggle.

I’ll give them everything they’ve been missing and craving in their lives. I’ll give these boys my full attention and affection, loving them both equally, and watching them loving each other. At last, we’ll get to do all those things we didn’t do a year ago because they’re ready now, and so am I. We’ll get undressed and discover each other’s new tattoos and piercings, touching and toying with them. We’ll kiss and caress and stroke and pleasure. We’ll lick and suck and bite and scratch. My role in bed will be fluid and interchangeable – if they want me to be romantic, gentle and sweet I can be all that, but if they prefer me to take charge and make them submit, I’ll oblige. On the opposite scale, if they want to dominate me, I’ll let them. They can tie me up, tease me, torment me. Fuck me. Whatever they want, they can have. By the time these boys leave my lair they’ll have that glitter back in their eyes and the fire back in their blood.

I will do this for them, whenever they want it, whenever they need it, for the rest of their lives if necessary. When I am not immediately needed, I will watch from the shadows like a deadly guardian angel. If anybody threatens the twins, if anyone ever hurts them, I will hunt that person down and take my vengeance. From this day forth, I will devote my entire life to Bill and Tom, making them as safe and happy as I can for as long as I am able. I will be their bodyguard, their protector, their lover, their healer, their own personal kidnapper. If they need rescuing all they’ll have to do is call me and I’ll come whisk them away – their silent sentinel, their ninja in the night.

If they ever move locations, like to LA or somewhere, I will go too, buying a house there just to be near them. I’ll even give up my job if I have to.

I will do all of this because I am a man hopelessly, obsessively in love.

With two beautiful boys.

Without another word, I slam the van’s sliding door, get into the driver’s side of the vehicle and start the engine, taking off down the road with my chocolate-eyed captives locked in the back like early Christmas presents.

And I can’t wait to get them home and unwrap them.

 

END