Chalice

Bill came home the next day around noon. He was barely inside the door before Tom came up, swept him off his feet like a bride, and spun him around.

"I missed you so much!" Tom said with as much of a cheesy inflection as he could manage, hugging Bill tight.

Bill had a death grip on Tom's shoulders. "I was only gone for a day!"

"I had to sleep alone! I haven't slept alone since college!"

"Oh, you poor, poor thing. At least you got to hang out with friends."

Tom looked at Bill, who had a surly look on his face. "Alright, what happened?"

"My arm hurts like hell,"

"Why?"

"They had to take my blood twice. In the same spot. It looks like I was hit with a cement truck."

"Let me see."

Bill pulled his sleeve up and showed off the golf ball-sized bruise on the crook of his elbow. Tom brought Bill's arm up and pressed a quick kiss to it.

"Better?"

"A little."

Tom smiled and put Bill down. "So, why did they need to take blood twice?"

Bill had his mouth open to answer, to tell Tom that he was going through with the procedure, but Tom quickly waved a hand. "Never mind, I don't want to know, probably just some medical crap I don't understand."

Bill raised his eyebrows. "It's not complicated, though."

"Really, now."

"Really."

"Then it can wait, for now I just want to hang out with you!"

Bill felt helpless. It was as if Tom knew what Bill wanted to tell him and was purposefully avoiding the subject. "Tom, please, I really need to tell you this!"

"And it can wait, I'm sure!"

Bill clenched his teeth; he'd had enough. Tom needed to listen. "Tomas Scott Kaulitz, you listen to me right now!"

Tom blinked and stared at Bill. He looked shocked so Bill sighed and took his hand.

"Please, just listen to me. You may need to sit down for this."

They walked over to the couch, Bill still holding Tom's hand. His grip increased as they sat down, refusing to meet Tom's eyes. Tom tucked a loose strand of Bill's hair behind his ear.

"Baby, why are you so nervous?"

"Because it just hit me that what you say to what I'm going to tell you may not be exactly what I want to hear."

"And that's cause for concern?"

"It's more the actions you may take with saying what you say."

Tom placed his hand on Bill's cheek. "Then say it, so you know what I'll say, instead of just assuming that it'll be bad."

Bill nodded, then leaned over and slammed his lips onto Tom's in a burning kiss, pressing headily against Tom. Tom was stunned for a moment and was about to kiss back when Bill pulled away.

"Um... Okay. Was there a reason for that?"

"Just... Just in case." Bill took in a deep breath. "I thought about it, thought for a long time, and decided that this is my body."

"No, it's not. You stole that one, remember?"

Bill let out a soft chuckle. "Stop, I'll lose my nerve. Okay. So, this is my body. And I should be able to do whatever I want to it."

"Except for a downstairs piercing."

Bill chuckled again. "Stop making me laugh! And those are gross. Anyway, since I can do anything I want to it, I decided on something big."

Tom tilted his head to the side. "Um... I'm lost."

"I - now don't freak out, please, I can explain myself better if you don't - I've had the consultation, my doctor and I talked about the risks and what I would need to do, and, after thinking about it, I decided that I am getting the Chalice procedure done."

Bill swallowed hard and stared at Tom. Tom stared at the floor for a good minute, Bill fearing the worst, when Tom finally sighed, laughed, and shook his head.

"You are so stubborn," he said, looking at Bill with a smile. Bill relaxed a little.

"You're not mad?"

"No, I'm mad. Just not for the reasons you imagine. I mean, I would like to have been there with you so I can learn all the ins and outs, but I still haven't figured out that when you want something, you get it."

"I'm really sorry for doing this almost behind your back, honey, I really am, but you would have fought it and I didn't want a fight."

"It's fine, really. But this does not change my stand on kids."

Bill held both hands up. "Oh, no, I know that, but I wanted us to be prepared when you finally are ready. No wait time, you know?"

"I get it," Tom scooted closer to Bill and held onto him. Bill snuggled into his arms. "So, what do you want for lunch?"

"Oh, oh, oh! Let's make a pizza, just us! We'll find a recipe for everything and cook it ourselves!"

Tom stared at Bill. "Um, how about we order pizza instead?"

Bill looked a little dejected. "That works, too."

Tom laughed.

~+~

It was Sunday morning. Bill yawned widely as he trudged down the stairs in a pair of grey plaid pajama pants and a black Sierra Nevada sweatshirt. His hair was messy and his eyes were bleary with sleep. He went into the kitchen, started a pot of coffee, and poured himself a bowl of cereal. He yawned again, rubbing at his eyes as he got out a spoon. He began munching steadily on his cereal, Frosted Cheerios, as he waited for the coffee to brew.

He finished off his cereal as Tom came into the kitchen, shuffling his feet. The two always seemed a lot groggier when it was the weekend and the morning, most likely from the lack of obligation that followed in the day.

Tom poured himself some Frosted Flakes and stood next to Bill. "Gimme your spoon."

Bill handed him the utensil as he drank the milk from his bowl and went to grab a coffee cup. He poured himself a generous measure of the dark, bitter liquid, Tom's crunching in the background as he added a little sugar into the liquid.

Bill took a drink and smiled. "Mm, hello caffeine! It's been too long."

Tom snorted and continued eating his cereal. Bill rolled his eyes and walked into the living room, plopping down on the couch and grabbing the little flat screen that controlled their TV and the functions it performed. Bill took another drink of coffee before setting it aside to scroll through the movies they had on file. More specifically, home movies.

He scrolled absently through the home movies he and Tom had procured over their time together, most of them from parties and birthdays, things of non-importance. He hummed a small tune while he scrolled, then stopped when he saw something he had never seen before.

The title was called PROPOSAL in big, capital letters and it didn't have an icon to identify it. He clicked on it and it illuminated the television screen. It started out on the courtyard of his and Tom's alma mater, and Bill snickered. Whoever was working the camera was doing a very bad job of it.

"Fuck, ah, no, zoom, zoom! How does Tom work this damn thing..."

Bill laughed as he recognized Georg's voice. He felt bad for Tom's friend; he was incredibly challenged when it came to things like that.

"Aha! Here we go."

The image on the screen zoomed in. Bill could now see nothing more than a little section of concrete in the courtyard, which was surrounded by a few tables and some shrubs. His hand flew to his mouth. He recognized that place.

"And they're supposed to be here, they come through here everyday on the way to... some class, I can't be bothered to know what. Probably some stupid elective that will let them get closer, no doubt. Closer, my ass. If they were any closer, they'd share skin."

Bill laughed and took another drink of coffee. Georg was always telling the two that they were going to happily suffocate each other and not notice.

"Tom paid me to record this for him, maybe so Bill won't embellish details one day, because God knows that boy won't say no."

"Quite the opposite, actually."

Bill squeaked and smiled. He made a mental note to call Ariana soon.

"Of course, for all we know, he could just pity Tom..."

"You have obviously never heard Bill talk about him."

"It's probably equivalent to what Tom does. It makes me want to shove a gun in my - oh, look, here they come, here they come!"

Bill blushed darkly and covered his eyes. "That fucking outfit," he murmured, referring to the ensemble past him was wearing, an odd, off-the-shoulder black poncho that reached his knees on one section and covered a brick red tank top that was skintight and too short. To top it off, he was wearing a ratty pair of cargo pants and flats, making him one giant fashion disaster.

He felt his breakfast come back up.

"What the hell, he doesn't have sound extension? Who doesn't have that? Now we won't hear what he says!"

Bill snickered at Georg's off-put attitude. He didn't need to hear Tom's words to remember them.

Tom walked into the living room right as on-screen Tom stuck his hand in his pocket. "Holy shit, I forgot I had Georg record this."

Bill patted the spot next to him, and Tom sat down, cuddling up next to him. Bill gently petted Tom's dreads as they watched the screen.

"You and that fucking outfit. You wore it like a smile," Tom snorted, rolling his eyes.

"If you hate it that much, I may just have to drag it out and wear it all the time," Bill lied, flicking Tom's ear.

"Okay, ow! And yeah, you hate that outfit too, and you know it."

"Yeah, okay, fine, I hate the very cotton and polyester it was made out of."

"Look at him, he looks so nervous! Don't sweat it, Tom, he'll say yes, I promise!"

"What faith Georg had in me," Bill commented, pushing the sleeves of his sweatshirt up. "You did look really nervous, by the way. I was so confused."

"I was about to ask you to marry me, of course I was nervous! Why does no one get that?"

"Look at Bill, look at him! He looks like he's being told all the numbers of pi, he is so confused!"

Bill blushed. "I know a few numbers of pi, that's not nice!"

"I think she was more referring to the fact that you were a history major and refused to take a math class higher than pre-algebra."

"I wasn't going to take a math class I didn't need!"

"Oh, oh, look, he brought out the box, he brought out the box!"

"Now Bill's really shocked, look at him! He thinks he knows now but he isn't sure, look at his face, Georg!"

"Oh, God, Tom, just get down on one knee and say it."

Tom rolled his eyes. "I was getting to it!"

"You were not getting to it. You kept stammering. 'Bill, I-I-I just... Y-you know how w-w-we...' It was confusing to listen to you."

"Georg, Georg, look at him, look at him, there he goes! Down on one knee, this is it!"

"I wanna know what the fuck they're saying!"

Bill rolled his eyes. "You just said 'will you marry me?' Totally unoriginal."

"I wonder what Bill will-"

Even though Tom didn't have sound extension, they didn't need it to hear the ear-piercing shriek that on-screen Bill let out right before he tackled Tom. Ariana started laughing and Bill blushed when Tom said, "You tackle like a football player. My back hurt for so long after that."

"You got over it," Bill said, raising his eyebrow.

On-screen Bill helped on-screen Tom up and started crying as on-screen Tom slid the ring onto his finger. On-screen Tom hugged on-screen Bill around the waist and started spinning him, on-screen Bill hugging on-screen Tom back with all his might.

"Shall we declare this a happy ending and go get some coffee?"

"I think that's a wonderful idea. Lead the way, O Roommate of Bill."

The screen went blank. Bill started laughing.

"God, I am so glad you had him record that. I will show that to our grandchildren."

Tom blinked. "Is it possible to have grandchildren without children?"

"It is when you play Life."

Tom nodded thoughtfully. "True. Pick another one. Want more coffee?"

"Oh, yes, please." Bill said, picking up the flat-screen controller again and scrolling through it. He snorted when he saw a movie titled 'Bill Being Stupid.' He clicked on it and it appeared on the screen.

Tom walked into the room and groaned. "Ugh, I thought I deleted this,"

"Turns out you didn't. Give me my coffee."

The screen was black, but there was sound. Shuffling, a few clinks, like glass on wood, and a giggle. Tom rolled his eyes. The screen seemed to suddenly turn on. On-screen Bill was there in night vision, looking intently at the screen with his hand somewhere behind the view. He smiled and pulled his hand back.

"Yay, I turned it on! I am so smaaaaaaart!"

Bill started laughing as his on-screen version grabbed a bottle of beer and showed it to the screen. It was the same brand of beer displayed on his sweatshirt.

"Sierra Nevada Pale Ale Porter Stout. I could live off of this stuff. Well, probably not, because then I'd die of alcohol poisoning," He took a drink. "They should make this without alcohol so I can live on it."

"You are such a lush," Tom said, shaking his head.

"There's a difference between lush and college kid."

"So, um, for future generations--because let's be honest, I will rule the world--it is I, your master, sitting in my boyfriend's dorm room. He and his roommate are gone, so they don't know I'm in here. And I have all the lights off. And I have beer! And I think there's something else here too, um... AH! Yes, I remember, I have puffy Cheetos!"

Tom laughed when on-screen Bill held up a monstrous bag of Cheetos like they were the Holy Grail. Bill smiled.

"I do like Cheetos."

On-screen Bill took another drink of his beer. "I'm kinda, like... already drunk. I was bored in my dorm room, drinking with Ariana, because her boyfriend called to hang out, like, right in the middle of it and that's not tres bien! Haha, I just spoke French! France, I am coming for you first. You will be my first dominion. And don't even think about revolting, or I'll go all 'Let them eat cake' on your asses and then kick... your... asses. Yeah. Hardcore. Cheetos!"

Tom was laughing his ass off.

"Glad you didn't delete this now?" Bill asked, smiling.

"So very glad!"

"Hey guess what? It's super happy awesome music time!" On-screen Bill shouted, leaning over and pressing something. A loud, blaring rap song started to play and on-screen Bill was dancing in his chair.

"And we rockin', fucking rockin' the world, and..." On-screen Bill suddenly stopped, leaned over, and turned the music off. "I just realized that I don't know that song. So, no more happy awesome music time. Super happy awesome beer time is to commence, waaah!"

Tom couldn't stop laughing. "Remind to always leave you alone with beer, Cheetos, and a camera."

"I don't think I'd do that anymore. I might get wasted, but I wouldn't record it. You would use it as blackmail so I'd become your personal maid or something."

"Touché."

"WINNIE THE POOH, WINNIE THE POOH. TUBBY LITTLE CUBBY ALL STUFFED WITH FLUFF. HE'S WINNIE THE POOH. WINNIE THE POOH. WILLY NILLY SILLY OLD BEAR!"

Tom looked at the screen, was quiet for a moment, then started laughing harder than ever. "Oh, oh my god! That was the most random thing ever and it was pointless! I knew there was a reason I married you!"

"It can't be that you love me,"

"Nah, that isn't it."

Bill chuckled and shook his head. "You're so polite."

The color on the screen changed from mostly black to light green. On-screen Bill whined.

"Get the fuck out or turn the fucking lights off! You're messing up all the happy-good-fun times I'm making! The picture's gonna look all wonky!"

"Wonky? Bill, what the hell are you doing?"

"I'm having fun and getting drunk without you! Hahaha! You must be sooooo jealous!"

Tom appeared on the screen, crouched down next to Bill, and leaned his head on Bill's shoulder. "You're fucking weird."

"You really are," Tom said, nodding.

"And you're a fun-killer," Bill said, pointing at the screen. On-screen Tom had just taken the beer bottle from on-screen Bill.

"No, give it back, that's mine, I paid for it! Stealer!"

"The better term is thief. And I'm not stealing from you, I'm making sure you don't overdose on alcohol."

"It's just beer! I'm not knocking back tequila!"

"Yeah, uh-huh, and how many of these have you had?"

On-screen Bill, shifted around in his seat like a child caught painting his little brother with house paint. "A few."

"How many is a few? ...Okay if you can't even remember then you have had enough. Come on, let's get you to bed."

On-screen Tom reached behind the screen as on-screen Bill whined. "No, Tom, I'm not-"

The screen went blank. Bill sighed.

"I'm a lush."

Tom looked at him. "No kidding."

Bill smacked Tom on the arm.

~+~

"Tom, you got mail!"

Tom looked up at Tina, who was idly holding out a letter while checking her nails. He smiled and walked over to her, grabbing the letter from her hand. "What are you up to? You have never, and I mean never, gone down to get mail or offered to get my mail for me."

"Oh, I don't know, just in a little generous mood."

Tom raised an eyebrow at her. "There's a cute guy in the mailroom, isn't there."

"Oh my god, so cute," Tina said, almost in exasperation. "Big blue eyes. Almond-shaped. Red hair."

"Red haired men are proven to go bald more often than men without red hair," Tom said offhandedly, opening the letter.

Tina paused. "Way to ruin it for me, Tom, he was sexy until you said that!"

"Sorry."

"Ah, I'll get over it."

"You always do."

"So, tell me, what is going on with my favorite flamer?"

Tom sat down at his desk. "I'm not a flamer, and I'm fine."

"That's good." Tina glanced down at the papers on Tom's desk. "You own your house?"

"Almost. We've only got, like... I don't know, three payments left on it,"

Tina whistled. "And you and Bill both own cars, expensive cars."

"Those aren't entirely paid off, either,"

"Where the hell did you get all that money? Did a relative die, did Bill sell himself?"

"Yes, I let my husband whore himself out just so we could have a house and cars,"

Tina tapped her forehead. "Ah, I knew it."

Tom rolled his eyes. "A relative didn't die, and Bill didn't become a prostitute."

"So you were the prostitute."

"I won a contest."

Tina gawked at him. "And it got you that much money?"

"Well, it was supposed to be for college, mostly, and I did spend a lot of it on college stuff. But I had a lot left, so Bill and I spent it on stuff we needed."

Tina sat down on the side of Tom's desk. "So, what was the contest?"

"It was a photography contest. The prompt was 'beauty in simplicity.' Our only instructions were that it had to be still life, and then had to be presented in a digital photo book. We could do whatever we wanted with it, and we would also be graded on it."

"I thought you said it was a contest."

"My photography teacher made it mandatory for the class. Well, anyway, my pictures won, and I got the prize money."

"How much was the prize money?"

Tom bit his lip and hummed. "Close to 70,000 dollars, I think."

Tina choked on air. "FOR A PHOTOGRAPHY CONTEST?"

"I know, I was as shocked as you are. But hey, it was easy money. And I had a blast doing it."

"Let me guess," Tina said flatly, staring at Tom. "You used Bill as your model."

"And his roommate Ariana."

"You are so predictable. So, tell me, what did you do for it?"

"I think I have the photo book in my desk, do you want to see it?"

"Hell yes, I want to see it! Show me, Queenie!"

Tom rolled his eyes and quickly searched through his desk drawers. He pulled out a nearly flat, black album and handed it to Tina. "I put them against a white backdrop, made it grayscale, then kept only one feature colored. Hair one time, eyes another, shoes, lips, everything differently. I wanted one thing that was beautiful about each of them brought out distinctly while the rest of it blended in with the background. Make it really pop, you know?"

Tina looked at each picture intently, pressing the screen to make the next picture appear, making approving noises. "Holy shit, I love your picture with their hair colored."

Tom smiled. "I love that one, too. It was such a perfect combination. Back in college, Bill decided that hair dye wasn't an essential after we got married because money was tight so he stopped dying his hair for a while, and it just kept growing out. I like how it darkens as it goes down, like it was dyed to do that. And it was just so perfectly offset by Ariana's cherry red hair, because she thought hair dye was an essential, , it was amazing."

"And they're all simple poses. It's nothing flashy, like Bill standing on his elbows or something. Just simple standing, sitting, a few crouches, and nothing really big. Maybe a few little flourishes here and there, but overall, very nice. Oh, this one of their faces with their eyes colored. That's brilliant, too."

Tom smiled. He had them stand right next to each other, close as they could be, staring straight at the lens of his camera. He had zoomed in on their faces and made them show no emotion. Then he'd colored their eyes. Ariana's green eyes stood out like marbles and Bill's were chocolate against the grey, deep pools that showed so much depth.

"Did you have a closing picture?" Tina asked, skipping some pictures that just had things colored like nails or necklaces.

"I did. You're going to slap me for being predictable."

"What was your closing kicker?"

"We decided on the most simple but most beautiful thing we could think of."

"A puppy."

Tom laughed. "No, keep going, you'll see."

Tina disinterestedly skipped ahead, pressing the pictures quickly. Tom started to actually do his job while Tina looked, knowing she had a lot of pictures to skip. Occasionally she would chuckle or make another noise of approval, then, without a word, she smacked a hand to her forehead and dragged it down her face in exasperation.

"Really? Honestly, really, are you serious? God, you're so freaking predictable."

"Hey, it was his idea, not mine, but I think it was a perfect end to the presentation."

"I now know why you won the competition," Tina said, showing Tom the picture. She pointed at it. "All the judges were horny perverts."

Tom laughed. The last picture of his album was an artistic nude of Bill, his hair colored in the picture. He was sitting down, with one knee bent up to censor himself. His arms were holding him up, his head was bent down, and his eyes were closed. He looked absolutely serene.

"What did you justify it with?" Tina asked.

"There is nothing simpler and more beautiful than the human body."

"Very nice. I notice that he has a tattoo on his hip."

Tom smiled. "His starget."

Tina blinked and looked at Tom. "His what-get?"

"His starget. It's what I call it. It's in the shape of a star, but it looks like a target."

"Starget. I get it. That's brilliant. Come up with that all on your own, did you?"

"I did, actually. I'm sort of proud of that fact."

"Nova," Tina said, closing the album and putting it on Tom's desk. "I think I'm actually going to go do my job now."

"That's a first," Tom said.

That earned him a smack upside the head. "No one likes a smartass."

"And no one likes a lazy worker, now go!"

"Why, so you can watch my fabulous ass walk away?"

Tom closed his eyes. "Tina, don't make me report you for sexual harassment."

"Like they'd believe you after the fifth time."

"Tina."

She sighed. "Fine, fine, I'm going. But I'd rather be coming. With the cute mailroom guy."

Tom covered his ears. "Sexual harassment!"

She rolled her eyes and walked off. Tom smiled.

Tina certainly knew how to keep the day interesting.