Maid Service

A/N: It seems as though it's once every three days I'm updating...I'm not used to updating an already finished fic - it's fucking with me just a little, methinks.

~+~+~+~+~+~+~

A week had passed in an unchanging haze, though Tom seemed to have gotten worse. While they all appreciated what Bill was doing, Tom was almost going out of his way to get a rise out of Bill. Gustav was wondering who would crack first; Georg, the jealous boyfriend or Bill, the highly annoyed house keeper. Gustav soon found out it was Bill who had cracked first after getting told about an incident late one night...

*-*-*-*-*-*-*

Bill smiled in satisfaction as he surveyed the mostly clean foyer. The floor gleamed brightly under the artificial light from the large chandelier hanging on the high arched ceiling. The messily scattered coats had been taken down to the laundry room for a thorough cleaning or two before being hung up in the walk-in closet off to the right of the front door; something Bill hadn't noticed until he investigated. Bill had then organized the pile of shoes lying by the door into two piles; usable and unusable. Those under the pile of usable were put neatly into a box and was set aside while those under unusable were thrown hastily into a large garbage bag and put outside to be thrown away later.

It was easier to work during the night for most everyone slept then and was exactly how Bill preferred to work. Without the owner awake to dictate where you clean and how clean it was, one could do whatever they pleased. It was more productive, according to Bill. So not to be in complete silence, Bill had set up a small boombox on the stairs that played classical music softly.

Footsteps on the stairs jarred Bill from his thoughts. He blinked and looked toward the stairs, frowning when he saw who it was. He stood and brushed down his outfit, still frowning.

"What are you doing up, Tom?"

Tom scowled at Bill, yawning widely. "I came down for a snack," he said.

"Ah. The ever present midnight cravings," Bill said, smiling. "You know where they are."

Tom smirked, stepping off the stairs and towards Bill. "I have my midnight snack," he said softly.

"Oh?" Bill raised an eyebrow. "Unless your talking about the disgusting, moldy food sitting at the bottom of two garbage bags, there's no midnight snack here."

"Of course there is," Tom said, getting himself in Bill's space, shoving and pinning him against the nearest wall.

Bill grunted softly, glaring at Tom. "Let go of me," he said, wriggling around.

"I can't have my midnight snack?" Tom asked with a pout.

"I'm not anyone's midnight snack," Bill said softly, trying in vain to get free, but Tom had too tight a hold on him.

Tom chuckled softly, pressing his body flush against Bill's, sighing softly. He seemed to almost relax, which gave Bill his chance to escape. He pushed forward with his shoulders roughly and kneeing Tom in the groin once he was far enough away. Tom doubled over, holding himself and hissing. He glared up at Bill, lips set in a grimace.

"What the fuck?"

"Should you try that to me again, I won't be so lenient," Bill said quietly, going to the stairs and unplugging the boombox before storming up the stairs and into the spare room he was using.

Tom watched him go, waiting for the pain in his groin to stop before standing shakily. He glanced around the foyer, flipping off the chandelier before heading upstairs and to his room he shared with Georg, a grin on his lips.

*-*-*-*-*-*-*

Two mornings later, Gustav knew something was up, but he couldn't put his finger on it. He knew that Bill had Georg get rid of the snake five days ago, so that couldn't be it. He also knew that he managed to get Tom to cut the entire lawn, back to front, which normally made Bill ecstatic and he wasn't, so that couldn't be it. Gustav had asked Georg if he knew anything about Bill's moody attitude and he didn't, suggesting that Bill could be going through his 'time of the month'...

He got a heavy smack in the head for that comment.

It wasn't until Tom made another move on Bill that it became clear to Gustav; something that Tom did had pissed him off so much. He laughed when Tom got his arse kicked by Bill and was forced into cleaning all the dirty dishes that came out of random places within the house along with keeping the lawn trimmed. Tom had protested at first, saying that he wasn't a maid and that it was clearly Bill's job to do all the house work, inside and out. Bill had glared heatedly at Tom, taking hold of the teen by the ear and dragging him out into the backyard, shouting something about weeding the yard before making a proper place for a garden to be grown. This had been an ongoing banter between Bill and Tom and Gustav was frankly annoyed at it by now. He had a plan on how to get them to stop arguing, but it would be tricky...

~+~

"You can't really expect to lock them both in the master suite, thinking they'll get along," Georg said, raising an eyebrow. "Tom would get all the wrong ideas."

"That's the point," Gustav said, sifting around some boxes. "We'll trick Bill, saying that we need the master suite cleaned up." He heaved a box out of the way before diving into a smaller one and sneezing. "Once he's there, we'll lock him inside and then we'll drag Tom into the room and lock it again."

"And you're positive this will make them stop arguing?" Georg sneezed himself as a cloud of dust came up after shoving a large chest to the side.

Gustav ducked his head into the box. "Not one hundred percent sure," he said, voice muffled by the box, "but pretty damn close." He came up from the box, holding a book in hand. "Found it."

"That's what you were looking for?" Georg asked incredulously. "A romance novel?"

Gustav shot Georg a look. "Just because I like reading doesn't mean you have to," he retorted, dusting off the book. "Besides, I've been trying to find this one for a while. I guess I forgot that I had packed it away."

Georg shook his head. "Only you," he muttered. "So, when are we putting this plan into action?"

"Now," Gustav said, standing quickly. "We have to find Bill, though." He turned to Georg. "Any ideas?"

"The kitchen?" Georg asked. "He's been spending a lot of time in there lately."

Gustav nodded and headed downstairs and into the kitchen where he saw Bill rummaging through the fridge, muttering to himself. Georg smirked at Gustav and put a finger to his lips before sneaking up behind Bill and grabbing him by the waist, tickling him. Bill squealed shrilly and wriggled out of Georg's hold, glaring at the male.

"What the fuck was that for?"

"Impulsive reaction," Georg said, smiling.

Bill huffed softly, pulling stray strands of hair from his eyes. "What do you want?" he asked, shutting the fridge door.

"We need the master suite cleaned out," Gustav said.

"Why don't you just do it yourselves?" Bill asked, raising a brow. "Seeing as you do want it cleaned out."

"That's the problem," Gustav said quickly. "There's too much junk in there for just the two of us to clean out." He pouted at Bill, knowing the other couldn't resist. "Can you help us?"

Bill tried to look annoyed, but shook his head and smiled. "Fine," he said. "I'll help you; lead the way."

Gustav smiled and turned towards the stairs, hearing Georg snigger softly. They made their way up three flights of stairs and down a couple different hallways, many times walking in darkness due to the curtains being drawn and no other source of light could be found. Bill sneezed, bumping into a small desk lining the hallway, making him whine and stop briefly.

"And where exactly is this master suite?" he asked.

"Not too much farther," Gustav replied. "It is a large house, after all."

"Which makes me wonder why you three live in it," Bill retorted, rubbing his thigh where he bumped into the desk. "You could make this into some bed and breakfast if you wanted."

"With Tom's attitude, there'd be no chance for that," Georg piped up.

Bill sighed softly and shook his head before a light grin stretched his lips. "Why not lock him in the attic?" he suggested.

"That would be all the time," Gustav said, glancing at Bill from over his shoulder. "He's allergic to dust; he'd probably be dead within the week of staying in there."

"Good," Bill retorted.

Gustav shook his head, stopping before a pair of arched doors. He smoothed a hand over the dark worn wood before opening the door, cringing at the loud squeal of protest. Bill walked past Gustav and inspected the room, his nose wrinkling.

"Do you have any idea how long this room's been like this?"

No one answered Bill and he turned, staring at the shut doors. He tried opening them, but found them locked and tried harder; the doors didn't give.

"Fucking hell..."

Bill pressed his back against the door and looked around the room. Something about the heavily dusty area made Bill uncomfortable, like someone was watching him with sadistic intent and made his spine crawl with mild fear. Taking another look around the dark room, Bill decided that there had to be a working lamp in the room somewhere and cautiously started looking. Boxes were piled up against each other all around the room, covered in what looked like many years of dust. He passed a curtained window and opened them, inhaling and sneezing out dust that had come off them. The sun had set, giving way to early evening, stars not even out yet. Bill smiled lightly and went back to the task at hand; finding a lamp. Feeling his way around the room, Bill finally found a lamp. He bit his lip and flipped the switch, exhaling noisily when light flooded into the room.

Bill stood upright and took another survey of the room with the light. He placed a hand on his hip and made a face; the room would take ages with all the boxes lying around! He glanced at the doors again before sighing and getting to work, pulling down some boxes and looking inside them. A sound from the other side of the doors halted Bill's quest to not make boxes topple on top of him and turned to face the door, brows furrowed. Seconds later, the doors opened and Tom was shoved inside before the doors shut again, the distinct sound of the doors locking heard. Tom shouted a few curses and banged on the doors with his fists, kicking it once for effect.

"We're not letting you two out until you get along!" Gustav's voice was heard from behind the doors. "Until then, you two are stuck in there."

"What about dinner?" Bill asked, putting a box down and going to the doors. "Who's going to make it?"

"Take out," was Gustav's reply before Bill and Tom heard his footsteps retreating.

Tom muttered words under his breath, finding an unoccupied chair and plopped himself in it. The ungraceful gesture caused the chair to collapse under Tom's weight, making Tom squeak loudly before falling to the floor with the ruined chair. Bill snorted.

"Brilliant job, idiot. You broke a chair."

"Fuck you." Tom glared at Bill and stood, rubbing his bum lightly.

Bill grinned. "You'd love that, wouldn't you?" he teased, crossing his arms over his chest.

Tom sneered at the ruined chair before scowling at Bill. He kicked the chair remains and wandered further into the room, plopped himself onto the giant bed, grateful that it didn't collapse when he sat. Bill watched him, still standing in front of the doors. Uncomfortable silence coated the room thickly after a few minutes, causing both males to squirm where they were and glance at each other briefly when the other wasn't looking. Finally, after ten minutes of quiet, Tom sighed loudly and flopped backwards onto the bed, regretting it immediately when a cloud of dust came up from the bedding. He sat up swiftly, sneezing and coughing.

"Fuck." Tom wiped his nose with the sleeve of his shirt, still coughing.

Bill made a face. "All right there?" he asked.

Tom shot Bill a look. "I'll live," he said, getting up from the bed still coughing. "It's just my stupid allergy."

"Then you should know when to dust," Bill said, tilting his head to the side slightly. "If your allergy to dust is so bad, why not try to keep it out of the house."

"You try dusting a five story house with god knows how many rooms," Tom shot back, rubbing his eyes and shaking his head. "We tried once and it didn't work." He sneezed, shaking his hands as he did so.

Bill sighed and rifled through a pocket on the apron he wore, coming out with some tissues. "Here." He walked up to Tom and handed him the tissues, smiling lightly when Tom took them and promptly blew his nose into them. He sneezed again, into the tissues, and whined softly.

"This is why I stay downstairs," he muttered, wiping his nose with the tissues.

"If Georg and Gustav knew about your allergy," Bill said, sitting down on the bed, "why would they lock you up here?"

"How the hell should I know?" Tom snapped, sitting on the bed next to Bill. "They want us to get along, but haven't the brains to have us occupy one of the unused bedrooms." He rubbed his eyes with the heel of his hands, mumbling words under his breath.

Bill bit his lip, taking more tissues out of his pocket and handed them to Tom. "Seeing as we're not arguing with each other, we could ask them to let us out," he said.

Tom snorted. "Good luck getting them up here," he said, taking the proffered tissues. "This house is huge. It'd be a miracle if your voice reached them downstairs."

"Ah, but you seem to forget that this is an old house," Bill said, grinning. "With old houses come little quirks of letting someone know you need something when you know good and well that they can't hear you." He stood and went to the head of the bed, feeling around the walls.

"What are you doing?" Tom asked, watching Bill rub the wall.

Bill shook his head, smiling when his hand grasped a string. "I have no idea if this will work, though," he said, gently tugging the string. "I don't know if the string will break."

"Just try it," Tom said, though he still didn't know what Bill was doing with the string.

Bill tugged at the string a few times, satisfied when it didn't break. "They should hear that downstairs," he said.

"What is that?" Tom asked.

Bill went back to the foot of the bed and sat down next to Tom again. "Some houses, like this one, were built back when slavery was around and that string I just pulled rings a bell on every floor, alerting everyone that there's assistance needed somewhere," he replied, looking at Tom. "They weren't used very often, seeing it only as an emergency type of caller."

Tom nodded and became quiet, leaning against Bill lightly. Bill didn't seem to mind and smiled when he felt Tom put almost all his weight onto Bill, head resting on his shoulder. Bill wormed his arm out from under Tom's weight and placed it around Tom's waist, resting it there lightly.

"Are you really an arsehole, Tom?" Bill asked, noting the way Tom tensed a little.

It was a couple seconds before Tom answered. "Not all the time," he finally replied. "When I meet new people, I normally act like an arse so they won't like me."

"Why?" Bill gently squeezed Tom's waist briefly.

"I'm not much of a people person," Tom replied with a small shrug.

Bill nodded, resting his head on top of Tom's. "Do you always wear caps?" he asked, poking the one sitting atop Tom's head.

Tom swatted at Bill's hand blindly. "Yes," he replied bluntly.

"Why?" Bill asked, poking the cap again. "I bet you look fine without them."

Tom flushed and swatted at Bill's hand again. "I look like a girl," he mumbled.

Bill snickered softly. "So?"

"So?" Tom echoed, sitting up and staring at Bill. "Tom Kaulitz never looks like a girl. I'm too macho." He puffed out his chest slightly.

Bill laughed. "You keep thinking that," he said, staring back at Tom. A smirk spread on his face and before Tom knew it, he was tackled and pinned to the bed.

"Bill!" Tom flushed at the position they were in. "Get off me!"

"Nope," Bill said, gripping onto Tom's hands tightly with one hand while he plucked off the cap with his other.

Tom made an incoherent noise, wriggling underneath Bill. Bill held tight, tossing the cap to the side before removing the sweatband covering half of Tom's head. He then found the band holding the locks of hair together and swiftly removed it before quickly moving off of Tom. Tom sat up immediately and went in search of his missing items, scowling when he noticed Bill had them all in his hands.

"Give me back my hat," Tom said.

Bill shook his head, smiling. "You look fine without it," he said.

"I look like a fucking girl!" Tom protested.

Bill nodded. "This is true," he said, "but with the baggy clothes, it's not that bad." He grinned. "However, if you wore something of mine, I may change my mind about that."

Tom looked briefly horrified at the idea. "I'd never wear something of yours," he said lowly.

"Of course you wouldn't," Bill said, waving a hand lightly. "However, I really don't like you wearing your caps inside the house and would like it if you could stop wearing them."

"No. I wear my caps all the time." Tom crossed his arms over his chest and pouted.

The way Tom was sitting and the way he pouted made Bill laugh. "When you look like that, you do look like a girl," he said.

Tom frowned. "See?" he said. "Now give me back my hat."

"No." Bill crossed his arms over his chest, Tom's cap dangling from a finger on his right hand. "Not until you promise me you won't be wearing it all the time."

"I can't promise that," Tom said. "I always wear hats. I'd feel uncomfortable without it."

"Try it for a day, at the very least," Bill said, pouting at Tom. "Please?"

Tom huffed out a breath, hanging his head. "Fine," he said. "Just give me back my hat."

Bill smiled and handed Tom back his hat, sitting next to him. "Perhaps, after that day," he said, "you could try doing it more often."

Tom shrugged and played with the hem of his hat. "Maybe," he mumbled.

Bill giggled softly, acting on impulse and kissed Tom's cheek. Tom flushed and bowed his head deeper, his chin touching his chest. They sat in silence for many minutes before they both heard footsteps approaching the room, mingled with light chatter from both Georg and Gustav.

"You sure they didn't pull it just so they could get out?" Georg's voice asked.

"I'm pretty that it was Bill that rang the bell and not Tom," Gustav replied. "If they pulled it just to get out, we won't know until we ask."

The sound of the doors being unlocked was heard and Bill smirked wickedly, grabbing hold of Tom's wrist and tugging. Tom looked at Bill, raising a brow. Bill returned the look with one that said 'just go with it'. Tom shrugged and allowed Bill to tug him along until he was effectively straddling the other. Tom flushed and looked at Bill, the question in his eyes. Bill shook his head and wrapped his arms around Tom's neck, pulling him down until their lips met and the doors opened.

"Holy shit."

The shock in Georg's voice made Bill smile and break the kiss, looking at him from over Tom's shoulder. He saw Georg gaping at them and Gustav shaking his head. Tom sat up on top of Bill, looking at the other with a mildly annoyed look on his face.

"Do you mind?" he asked, crossing his arms over his chest.

"We thought you'd kill each other," Georg said once he got over his shock, "not...kissing each other."

"Is it bad?" Bill asked, sitting up on his elbows.

"Of course not," Gustav replied, shoving Georg. "He's just jealous."

"I'm not jealous!" Georg cried, scowling at Gustav.

Gustav shrugged, looking back at Bill and Tom. "Seeing as you two made up, I'd love it if you went downstairs and made some dinner," he said, smiling. "Take all the time in the world, we'll be waiting downstairs." With that, he left, taking Georg with him.

Bill and Tom waited until they were sure Gustav and Georg couldn't hear them before laughing loudly, Tom collapsing onto Bill in his laughter. Bill chuckled softly, wrapping his arms around Tom's middle and holding him in place. Tom's own laughter subsided slowly, welcoming the comfortable silence and the comfortable embrace he was in.

"So, what was that?" Tom asked softly, shifting slightly.

Bill shrugged. "I don't know, to be honest," he replied just as softly, lifting a hand and carding it through Tom's dreads.

Tom flushed. "It was odd," he said.

"Agreed."

"Wouldn't mind doing it again."

"Perhaps." The hand Bill had in Tom's locks lowered onto his neck, gently squeezing. "But not now. I have a dinner to make."

Tom pouted, picking up his head from where it rested on Bill's neck. "Just a little one?"

Bill smiled and shook his head, pressing a light kiss to Tom's lips. "Now get off me," he said, gently pushing on Tom's chest.

Tom's lips remained in a pout, but he got off Bill, bringing him up as soon as he was standing up. Bill thanked Tom lightly and handed him his hat before taking hold of the overlarge shirt and dragging him downstairs with it clutched tightly in his hand. Bill made a note to tread lightly around Tom now; he didn't know what it exactly it was that Tom wanted, though he did have a hunch. He bit his lip and shook his head, scolding himself to not think too much on the subject. It only led to complications.

'Fuck the complications.' Bill halted before the stairs leading to the first floor and pulled Tom to him, pressing his lips against Tom's. Tom stiffened before he relaxed, wrapping his arms around Bill's middle and pressing their bodies flush together. Bill whined softly and pushed away, shaking his head, muttering incoherent words to himself. Tom bit his lip, not knowing what to do. Bill shook his head again, pulling away from Tom and rushing down the stairs and into the kitchen. With the speed Bill went down the stairs, Tom knew he'd get cornered by Gustav and asked why Bill was upset when he rushed past the living room. However, he would answer the questions later, he had to figure out why Bill kissed him before immediately regretting it and rushing away in an upset flurry...

It would prove to be harder than Tom thought, though.

~TBC~