Title: Tokio Twins
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: Slash, fluff, mild angst, OOC
Pairings: Tom/Georg
Disclaimer: Nope.
Chapter(s): 01/03
Notes: I've had this idea in my head for a while and hadn't put any thought into it, seeing as I have so many fics in the process already. Since it won't leave my head, I've decided to write it out. Enjoy. ^^



Three weeks. Three weeks had passed and now was the perfect time to show the world what really lay underneath the too large clothes of Tom Kaulitz. Contrary to belief, Tom hated how he dressed, often times trying to sneak into Bill's room and steal his clothes without much success. Bill had found out one night when he had refused an invitation to a party, going back up to his room to find it in disarray with Tom in the middle of it, wearing only a pair of black briefs. After assessing what had happened, Bill sat Tom down, wanting to know why his twin would go through his things. Tom had told Bill everything, even little details he had never told his twin before, which had initially angered Bill, but understood once Tom had explained.

It was soon after that, that they both formulated a plan that would take three weeks to execute if they worked swiftly enough, but it would be worth it in the end.

~-~-~-~-~-~-~

"I'm not going to the party tonight, guys." Bill waved off Georg's protests with a wave of his hand. "It's been a long day and all I want to do now is take a shower and fall into bed." With that, Bill turned and headed into the hotel, yawning as he did so.

It wasn't a lie when Bill said it had been a long day. There had been twice as many interviews that day and nearly thrice as many photoshoots. Normally, Bill would still have energy left to go out with the rest of the band, but something had been nagging at the back of his head since this morning, giving him a migraine for its efforts. A shower and sleep sounded like heaven to Bill right now, which is exactly what he had planned...

Unfortuantely for Bill, his plans were ruined the minute he stepped inside his room. His suitcases had been hazardly opened, clothes strewn every which way, make-up and other items tossed around, as if someone wanted it at first, but decided to forgo it and tossed it aside. Bill hadn't noticed Tom until he sobbed softly and the telltale sound of him falling ungraciously onto the bed. Bill stared at Tom briefly before tentatively walking up to him.

"Tom?"

Tom flinched and shook his head. "I'm sorry," he whispered. "I shouldn't have gone through your things like this."

"Why would you?" Bill asked, sitting next to Tom. "Are you looking for something?"

Tom shook his head, wiping away the tears on his cheeks. He sniffled softly, wrapping his arms around himself.

"If not that," Bill said, clearly confused, "then what are you doing in here?"

Tom licked his lips, glancing around Bill's room. "I want to look like you," he said quietly, making Bill almost miss what he said.

"You want to look like me?" Bill echoed - Tom nodded. "Why? I thought you hated how I dressed."

Tom flushed pink, shaking his head again. "I lied," he replied. "Well, I did at first, knowing you could pull it off and I couldn't-"

"Not true," Bill interrupted Tom, ignoring the scowl Tom sent his way. "You and I are the same underneath everything. If it looks good on me, it will on you."

"How can you be so sure?" Tom asked quietly, tugging at one of his dreadlocks.

Bill looked around his room and smiled. "I'll show you," he said, taking Tom's hand and standing.

Tom stood with Bill, the confusion written clearly on his face. "How do you propose to do that?" he asked.

"Easily." Bill tugged Tom towards the bathroom, making him sit on the toilet. "But first, I want to know why you made my room a mess."

Tom bowed his head, staring at the tiles underneath his feet. "I want to look like you," he said.

"Yes, I know that," Bill said. "What I want to know is why you want to."

Tom bit his lip and sighed softly. "I've always wanted to look like you," he said softly. "I never told you because you were the one who said we shouldn't look alike when we got famous." He paused briefly. "I was pissed off at you in the beginning for saying that, thinking you didn't want us to look alike, so I went out with mum and got a different hairstyle, in a way, venting my frustration towards you."

"I thought you liked your style," Bill said, frowning lightly. "I only said we shouldn't look alike because I thought our styles were different."

Tom shook his head, looking up at Bill. "I hate it," he said, tugging at his dreads again. "Everything about it, I hate."

"Even the dreads?" Bill asked, cocking his head to the side.

Tom nodded. "Even the dreads," he echoed.

"You never told me, though," Bill said, frown back in place.

"I thought you'd be angry," Tom said.

"Well, I probably would," Bill said, scratching his head slightly, "but surely you could have told me."

"And let you vent your anger out on me?" Tom asked, raising an eyebrow. "No thanks." He smiled lightly.

Bill shook his head. "I'm still angry at you," he mumbled. "However, since you've told me, I do feel better that you have." He looked at Tom up and down, chewing at his bottom lip. "So, you really do want to look like me?"

"I do," Tom said.

"This means tight pants, tight shirts, and make-up," Bill said, smiling. "It also means getting rid of those dreads."

"I figured as much," Tom retorted, gesturing with his hands. "Do what you will."

Bill chuckled lightly. "What do you want to do first?" he asked. "The hair or the clothes?"

"Hair," Tom replied. "We have this week and the half of the next week off; taking out dreads is harder than it looks."

Bill nodded, reaching out to run his hands through Tom's dreads, pulling at a few. “Deep conditioning should work best,” he mumbled. “Otherwise you’d have less hair than Gustav.” He giggled at the thought.

Tom chuckled softly, nodding. “You don’t have to waste your products on my hair, though,” he said. “I bought some just a few days ago.”

“And where is it now?” Bill asked, still tugging at Tom’s hair.

“Just outside the bathroom,” Tom replied. “It should be on the chair.”

Bill nodded and left the room, coming back five minutes later with a small black bag. “This bag?” he asked and Tom nodded. Bill opened the bag and dragged out two bottles; one shampoo and the other conditioner.

“They’re specially made to remove dreads,” Tom explained when Bill got a confused look on his face. “It shouldn’t take too long with those.”

Bill nodded, pointing toward the shower. “Get in there,” he said.

Tom made a face, but obeyed, thankful this hotel had a detachable showerhead otherwise things could have gotten awkward. Tom knelt at the edge of the tub, placing his arms along the edge and rested his head there. Bill came up behind him, sitting next to him and turning on the water, making sure the water wasn’t too hot before taking the showerhead off its placing and turning on the shower.

“If it’s too hot, tell me,” Bill said softly, gently pushing Tom’s head towards the centre of the tub before getting his head wet. Tom shut his eyes as the water ran down his face and into his eyes, curious as to how he would look without his dreads. Bill started humming softly, running his free hand through Tom’s dreads so they would absorb the water more before putting the showerhead down and coating Tom’s head with shampoo.

“It’s a wonder I don’t have to use the whole bottle,” Bill commented, massaging the shampoo through. “Your hair’s longer than mine, moreso now that it’s going to be actual hair.” He smiled lightly when he heard a soft purring coming from Tom. “Should we cut it? Layer it?”

Tom nodded. “Layered,” he muttered, “but no dying.”

“Why not?” Bill asked, pouting. He rinsed his hands before picking the showerhead back up and rinsing Tom’s hair. “You’d look nice.”

“Maybe we can dye it,” Tom mumbled, spitting out some soapy water that had gotten into his mouth, “but not until later when it’s cut.”

“Agreed.” Bill nodded, running a hand through Tom’s hair, noting that it was midly looser. Once the shampoo had been thoroughly washed out, Bill turned off the shower and reached for the conditioner, massaging it into Tom’s head and dreadlocks as best he could. He arranged the locks in a semblance of order and allowed Tom to settle his head on his arms. “Now we wait.”

“How long?”

Bill shrugged, getting up. “Ten to fifteen minutes, I guess,” he replied, rinsing his hands in the sink before grabbing a towel and sitting back next to Tom. “If that doesn’t work, then we’ll do it again.” He wiped Tom’s face with the towel gently, tossing it aside when he finished.

Tom opened his eyes and looked at Bill. “I would have thought you’d be angier,” he whispered.

“I am angry, yes,” Bill said, nodded, “but you know as well as I that I can’t stay angry at you for long.” He looked at Tom and smiled.

“Too true,” Tom mumbled, yawning.

The rest of the fifteen minutes passed in comfortable silence, the only disturbance being a loud ruckus out in the halls, sounding much like an argument between Georg and Gustav. Not much could be understood, but there was soon a knock at Bill’s door, followed by a shouting demand that neither Bill or Tom understood. Bill sighed and got up, glancing back at Tom.

“Don’t move.”

Bill then turned and left the bathroom, picking up some clothes and tossing them onto his bed before getting the door.

“What’s up?”

Georg blinked at Bill. “Where’s Tom?” He asked. “He’s not in his room.”

“He’s in here,” Bill replied. “Why?”

Georg shook his head. “Just wondering,” he replied before turning and going down the hall.

Bill watched him go, frowning. He shrugged and shut his door, going back into the bathroom to rinse out Tom’s dreads. He started up the water again, checking the heat before turning on the showerhead and rinsing the conditioner from Tom’s head.

“They’re loose,” Bill murmured, running his free hand through the significantly looser dreads. “Do you have a comb of sorts to help me out?”

Tom nodded. “It should be in the bag,” he replied, reaching up a tentative hand that got slapped away.

“Just you wait,” Bill teased, turning off the shower and grabbing the towel from earlier, wrapping Tom’s hair in it. “Up.” He stood when Tom stood, holding the towel in place. He let Tom hold it so he could get the comb from the bag. “Into the room.” Tom walked out of the bathroom and sat at the edge of the bed. Bill crawled up behind him, taking hold of the towel and squeezing Tom’s hair before removing the towel.

“Now comes the fun part, eh?”

Tom chuckled and closed his eyes, wishing he could touch his hair, but feared another slap from Bill. Bill started at the bottom, his nose wrinkled in concentration as he combed away the spider-like locks in quick motions. He knew that the hair needed another conditioning, but did his best with what he had at the moment. Many minutes had passed before Bill put down the comb and declared the locks needed another conditioning. Tom obeyed and let Bill work on his hair, requesting some background noise when it got too quiet. It was well into the early morning hours when Bill finally declared Tom’s hair dreadlock-free. Tom had been dozing lightly when Bill had said this, but became wide awake when his sleep-fogged mind caught up with the rest of him. He tentatively reached a hand up to his hair, feeling the slightly tangled, but dread-free hair. He turned to Bill and smiled, hugging him tightly.

“Thanks,” he mumbled.

Bill laughed lightly, hugging him back. “You’re welcome,” he said, “but now we’re both knackered, so let’s get some sleep before we work on anything else.” He released Tom and removed any clothing from his bed, folding back the duvet and blanket before getting underneath them with Tom following soon after.

Both curled against each other, yawning simultaneously, and falling asleep.

~-~-~-~-~-~-~

Tom awoke first in the afternoon, wondering briefly where he was before last night’s events came back. He smiled and yawned, snuggling back up against Bill and his warmth. This inevitably woke up Bill, making him whine and shake his head.

“Five more minutes,” he murmured sleepily, curling against Tom tightly.

Tom chuckled. “No one’s waking you up but yourself,” he said softly.

Bill clenched his eyes shut tightly before slowly opening them, yawning widely. “Tom?” he asked in a husky, sleep-filled voice.

“That would be me,” Tom replied, smiling.

Bill returned the smile and detatched himself from Tom to stretch his body. “What time is it?” he asked, flopping into a boneless heap after his stretch.

Tom glanced at the alarm clock on the nightstand. “It’s half past one,” he replied.

Bill’s stomach growled loudly, causing him to flush and sit up. “What say we get some lunch,” he said, grabbing for the room service menu next to the alarm clock.

Tom’s hand stopped Bill’s.”So then lets get some,” he said.

“That would be the point of room service, Tomi,” Bill said, raising an eyebrow.

“The food’s not that good, remember?” Tom pointed out, grinning.

Bill made a face at the rememberance and let his hand drop at his side. “What do you suggest?” he asked.

“Let’s go out and get something.”

Bill looked at Tom. “You sure?” he asked.

“Positive,” Tom replied. “We’ve been stuck inside this hotel for a while, some time out sounds nice.”

Bill nodded, standing. “You’ll have to get those tangles out of your hair first,” he said.

Tom made a face. “Which means I have to shower,” he said, standing also. “Good thing, though. I needed one anyways.”

“I’ll wait out here,” Bill said.

Tom nodded and went into the bathroom, looking himself in the mirror. Without the dreads, Tom’s hair nearly reached the middle of his back in nearly three shades of blonde and brunette equaly. The sun had taken care of the multiple colours, giving Tom’s hair a unique, but stylish look. Tom smiled, running a hand through his hair, wincing when he snagged some tangles. He turned from the mirror and turned on the shower, jumping in and sighing when the hot water hit his scalp. It had been a while since Tom could effectively feel water on his scalp, considering the dreadlocks. Reaching for the shampoo, then conditioner respectively, Tom knew his hair would be tangle free after this washing. After washing then rinsing off his body, Tom turned off the water before stepping out of the shower and reaching for a towel. He wrapped the towel around his waist before reaching for his bag and taking out a brush, running it through his hair lightly. He briefly wondered what Bill wanted him to wear, shaking his head lightly. Whatever Bill chose, Tom was sure it would look fine.

Placing the brush down on the counter, Tom stepped out of the bathroom, grinning when he saw the room clean.

“Took you long enough,” Bill said from his spot on the bed. “I thought you drowned in there. Only I usually take that long in the shower.”

“Long hair with tangles takes a bit,” Tom retorted, looking around. “So, what am I wearing?”

Bill got up from the bed, handing Tom a small pile of clothes before ushering him into the bathroom again. “Call me when you’re done,” he said, shutting the door on his way out.

Tom put the clothes down on the counter next to his brush and picked up the first item; a pair of tight black jeans. Tom put the pants back down, taking off the towel and drying his legs, knowing it would be a pain if his legs weren’t dry. He then tossed the towel aside and wriggled into the jeans, finding them oddly comfortable to be in despite the tightness. He buttoned them up, smoothing the material down his legs and arse with a small smile. After a few more seconds, Tom reached for the next item which happened to be a small shirt. He shoved it over his head, scowling lightly when the shirt barely covered his stomach. It was cold outside and he’d be damned if he didn’t have a jacket. After a few tries to get the shirt to go lower, Tom knocked on the bathroom door.

“You can come in now.”

The door opened and Bill walked in, grinning when he saw Tom. “You look good,” he said.

“I do get a jacket, right?” Tom asked, tugging the shirt down slightly.

Bill laughed. “Of course you do,” he replied. “I’d be stupid to let you go out in this weather wearing just that.” He looked at Tom’s face. “All you need now is some make-up and accessories.”

“Don’t go too overboard with that,” Tom said.

Bill waved a hand about lightly. “No worries,” he said. “Now sit.” He pointed to the toilet seat, waiting for Tom to sit before standing in front of him. He scrutinized his twin’s face before nodding and pulling out his make-up bag from a small cabinet next to the sink. He smiled at Tom and set to work, his tongue sticking out as soon as he started. Five minutes later, after some deliberation from Tom, both twins were ready to head out.

“Wait,” Tom said. “Are we just going out there without a bodyguard?”

“I already called to confirm we’re going out,” Bill replied. “Saki’s waiting for us in the lobby.”

Tom nodded and followed Bill out of the room, hoping neither Georg or Gustav would stop them. Fate didn’t smile upon Tom as Georg came out of his room, looking ready to go out. He spotted them and smiled.

“Going out, too, Bill?”

Bill nodded. “We both are,” he replied, gesturing lightly towards Tom.

“Who’s she?” Georg asked, looking Tom up and down appreciatively.

Bill snorted lightly. “I would have figured you knew him,” he replied.

Georg stared at Bill. “Him?” he asked, almost stupidly.

“Yes, Georg,” Tom piped up. “You should know me.”

Georg blinked, looking from Bill to Tom and back. “Tom?” he asked and Tom nodded. “Man, what happened?”

“I decided to change,” Tom replied. “Is it a problem?”

Georg shook his head rapidly. “Not at all,” he said, giving a hesitant smile. “Just wondering why.”

Tom shrugged. “Would it really matter now?” he asked.

“No.”

“Good.” Tom smiled. “We ready?”

Georg nodded and lead the way to the elvators, looking around briefly before walking into the elevator, explaining to Bill and Tom that some fangirls were snooping around earlier, trying to find them without much success. Tom grinned and shook his head, putting in that they never would find him now that he’d changed. Georg shot him a look before sticking out his tongue.

“They would if they were looking for a brunette Bill,” Georg retorted.

“Ah, but they don’t know that we’re both naturally brunettes,” Tom pointed out, pushing some hair behind his ear.

The elvator soon reached the lobby and the three looked around for their bodyguard, finding him by the receptionist’s desk. He looked at Bill, then Georg, then finally at Tom, frowning lightly when he did so.

“Who are you?” he asked.

Tom giggled softly. “One would think that, after a few years working together, you would know me,” he replied.

Saki blinked, staring at Tom. He looked back at Bill before looking at Tom again, his eyes widening. “Tom?” he finally asked.

“That’s my name,” Tom quipped, grinning.

Saki shook his head. “You look different,” he said.

“That happens,” Tom said. “Can we get going now?”

Saki nodded and lead the three out of the hotel, ushering them into a van before geting into the passenger’s side, telling the driver to go to the nearest restaurant when Bill protested.

“I need to go shopping,” he whined, pouting.

Saki growled softly. “One hour,” he grumbled.

“Thank you, Saki,” Bill said, smiling.

Saki only grunted softly.

~!~!~!~

“Why exactly are we shopping?” Tom asked.

“You can’t expect to keep using my clothes,” Bill said. “I’d have to do twice as much laundry.”

“All right,” Tom said, “but what am I going to do with my other clothes?”

“Get rid of them somehow,” Bill replied, looking through a rack while glancing around. "I don't care to know how, just do it."

"But then someone would notice," Tom said, furrowing his brows.

"They're going to notice anyways, Tom," Bill retorted, smiling. "Now come here and help me pick out your clothes. I know you want to look like me and all, but I don't know what it is exactly that you want."

Tom made a face, but helped Bill pick out clothes, ranging from exactly like Bill to something Bill would never wear; a skirt, for example. After some light arguing and teasing, the pair got together the perfect wardrobe for Tom. Because of the large amount of shopping bags that needed carrying, the twins had enlisted Georg and Saki for help.

"You really weren't kidding when you said you changed," Georg commented, hauling up his share of bags.

"I really wasn't," Tom retorted, grinning. "I'm quite serious."

"Yes, I can see that now," Georg said, returning the grin.

"Have you thought about what the fans are going to think about this?" Saki asked, pinning Tom with a questioning scowl as he put all the shopping bags he was carrying into the back.

"I have," Tom replied, climbing into the van after Bill. "I don't think they'd mind too much if there happened to be another Bill in the band."

"We can only hope, though," Saki muttered, closing the van door once Georg got in before getting in himself in the passenger's seat.

The van ride back to the hotel was silent, almost unbearably so. Said silence made Tom squirm in his seat and tug at loose strands of his hair dangling in his face, chewing on his bottom lip as he did so. Bill swatted Tom's hand away from his hair and smiled, much to Tom's irritation and Georg's amusement. Tom then tugged at a strand of Bill's hair, pouting. Bill shook his head and pulled Tom to him, holding him close. Tom settled against Bill, sighing softly; Bill always knew what Tom wanted and that made him grateful to have him.

When they returned to the hotel, Bill thanked Saki and Georg for the help before swiftly pushing them out of the room. That done, Bill shut the door and leaned against it with a sigh, closing his eyes briefly before looking at Tom with a grin stretching his lips.

"You do realise we were nearly recognized everywhere we went," Tom commented, removing some things from one of the bags and placing them on the bed.

"I was, actually, in the lobby," Bill said, still grinning. "They asked me is the lovely young lady with me was my girlfriend."

Tom's eyes widened briefly before he looked at the floor, blushing red. "Guess I'm unrecognizable, eh?" he mumbled.

"For now," Bill replied, nodding and coming into the room and looking at the items on the bed. "What're you planning for?"

"Tomorrow," Tom said, smiling. "We do have an interview tomorrow, plus a photoshoot. I want to look as different as possible."

"Wearing a mini skirt with a tiny tank top and one-half jacket will surely make a difference," Bill commented. "What about your hair? I wasn't there when you got dye."

Tom grinned. "You were too distracted by the kittens across the way," he teased, ignoring Bill's indignant splutters. "I got a cherry red colour."

"I would have thought you'd go for something dark," Bill said.

"I may be your twin, but I'm not as dark as you," Tom quipped, pulling out the dye from another bag and heading into the bathroom.

"What's that supposed to mean?" Bill asked, following Tom into the bathroom.

Tom shook his head, removing his shirt and tossing it to the side. He looked over at Bill, smiling.

"Before you ask, I'm not cutting it." He opened the box of dye and pulled everything out, glancing over the directions. "However, I could use some help to get this all in." He looked over at Bill again, giving Bill his own puppy dog eyes.

"You know that's not fair," Bill said, grabbing the instructions from Tom. "Using my own defences against me."

"We're twins," Tom said. "I get rights to use them, too."

"Too true," Bill muttered, putting the instructions down. "Sit on the toilet; I'll get this junk in your hair this time around, but the next time you're doing this on your own."

"Agreed," Tom said, sitting on the toilet and allowing Bill to dye his hair.

~+~

It was well over an hour later, but in that time, Bill had dyed and convinced Tom to trim and layer out his hair. They were currently sitting on the bed, eating pizza and discussing what was going to happen tomorrow.

"No one's going to recognize you," Bill said, nibbling at his slice of pizza.

"That's the whole point, though," Tom said. "We discussed this already."

"True." Bill picked at his slice, plucking a slice of pepperoni off the pizza slice and popping it into his mouth. "Everyone's going to wonder where Tom went and why a hot young woman's taken his place."

"Say we want to appeal both sexes," Tom said, briefly licking at some spare sauce on his slice before taking a bite and smiling at Bill. "Then again, we have you to appeal both sexes, so say that the woman's just a sit-in."

"Like that'll go over well," Bill said, chuckling softly. "They may assume you to be one of our girlfriends and ask questions."

"It'll be a while before it finally gets into their head that the hot young woman is actually Tom," Tom said, grinning and finishing his pizza. "I like how this is currently going."

"Ah, but we still have an interview and photoshoot to go through," Bill said. "If they don't recognize you and we go with the plan to say you're a temporary sit-in for Tom, which is highly unlikely, they may want you to pose a little differently than normal."

"Bah, let them think that," Tom said, the grin still on his lips. "Besides, when they find out, the questions will end up being hilarious."

"Don't let it get to your head, Tom," Bill said, taking another pepperoni slice from his pizza.

"When has that ever happened?" Tom asked, laughing at the mildly incredulous look Bill shot him. "I won't, Bill. I promise."

"I'll hold you on that," Bill said, biting into his pizza slice.

Tom chuckled and shook his head, knowing that Bill would indeed hold him on his promise...

But where was the fun if there wasn't any mischief?

~TBC~

End Notes: I'm not entirely sure I like everything I put into this first chapter. I've said this with Maid Service, doubtful that I've been on that promise, but seeing as this is only a mere three chapters(and an epilogue) long and my muse is working wonderfully with me on this one, one can hope that all three chapters will be out quickly. Oh, and to those who want an update to A Time of Change, you'll have to wait seeing as I have a massive writer's block on it. I know where I want the fic to go, but I'm a bit low on resources on such a subject. Once I manage to find enough resources to enlighten me on it, then I'll see what I can do about an update, savvy? ^^