The morning after the first night, Bill was awake well before the sun, cleaning up around the house. He managed to keep quiet for most of the morning, until around eight or so when he wandered into Georg's empty room and screamed, seeing the large snake in a giant tank. Gustav was up immediately, wondering what made Bill scream. Bill ran out of the room and bumped into Gustav, falling into his arms unexpectedly. They toppled to the floor at the impact, Bill landing on top of Gustav. Gustav groaned softly, still curious. "What's wrong, Bill?" "There's a snake in that room," Bill muttered, glaring at the door. "You never mentioned having a snake in the house." "I honestly thought Georg got rid of it," Gustav said. "That thing is getting too big, even with the tank its in." Bill whined and buried his face into Gustav's neck. "I will not step foot into that room until that thing is gone," he mumbled into Gustav's neck. "So then have them get rid of it," Gustav said. "They seem to listen better to you." "Only if I piss them off," Bill shot back, looking at Gustav. He finally realized the position they both were in and he flushed red, scrambling off of Gustav. "Sorry." Gustav shrugged, sitting up. "Are you going to be ok?" he asked. "Once I know that snake is out of this house, yes," Bill replied, standing up. "I have to go change and make breakfast. If Tom and Georg aren't up by ten, I'll get them up myself." He turned and wandered towards the room he was using. "What are we doing today that has us getting up at this hour?" Gustav asked to Bill's back, standing up and following Bill to his room. "First, we're going to throw away that thing you call a fridge," Bill replied, opening his door and walking in. "After that, we're going to find a new one." He rummaged through his suitcase, poking around the items. "Then after that, I'm going to shop for edible food. You three can do whatever you want in that time." He picked out a ruffled black mini skirt and a black knot top, smiling at Gustav. Gustav took the hint and nodded. "I'll go get them up, then," he said, closing Bill's door as he left. Bill sighed and dropped his clothes to his bed, smoothing out the wrinkles in his uniform before heading downstairs. With everyone's enthusiastic reaction to the dinner last night, Bill had gone out to the little mart later in the night to get things for a hearty breakfast. Each house he went to thus far enjoyed his cooking, but enjoyed his breakfast far better than any other meals. Bill prided himself in his cooking skills, which is why he went into maid servicing. Serving before a hot stove didn't sit too well with Bill... Shaking himself from his thoughts, Bill wandered into the kitchen and got things ready for breakfast, wondering how long it would honestly take to wake up Tom and Georg. He glanced at the clock and smiled; Gustav had less than fifteen minutes to get both boys up and if he didn't, Bill had plans to get them up in his own way. As if on cue, Gustav wandered into the kitchen when the clock struck ten. He smiled at Bill and shrugged. "They're not getting up," he said. Bill smirked lightly. "Watch the food, would you," he said, wiping his hands on the apron he wore around his waist. "I'll get them up." "Good luck," Gustav said, smiling. "You're going to need it." Bill only smiled and patted Gustav on the head, walking up the stairs and towards Tom's room. Without much warning, Bill thrust the door open, freezing in the doorway at the sight that greeted him. Tom was curled up against Georg's side, one hand curled into a fist over Georg's heart while his other was curled by his head, curling into a handful of Georg's hair. Georg lay on his back with one arm wrapped tightly around Tom's middle while his other rested above his head, trapping his longer strands underneath the heavy arm. Bill smiled and shook his head, walking up to the bed and kneeling next to Tom. "Tom," Bill said softly, gaining no reaction. "Come on, Tom. Time to get up." Tom whined and shifted away from Bill, huffing out a breath and disturbing Georg's hair slightly. Georg didn't notice and slept on, an occasional snore coming from him. Bill frowned, standing up. He lightly fingered the blanket before an idea popped into his head. It was a cruel plan, but it would get Tom and Georg up. Bill walked out of the room and went into the bathroom, filling up a medium-sized bucket with water, making sure it was ice cold before bringing it back into the room with him. He tested the blanket, making sure no one was lying on it. Bill grinned, taking hold of one side of the blanket and yanking it off with a flourish, splashing Tom and Georg with the icy water once the blanket was clear of any splatters. The reactions were immediate. Tom jolted and his eyes popped open, glaring at Bill. "What the fuck, man?" Georg woke up in a similar fashion, but he was grinning as widely as Bill. He didn't say anything, just simply shook his head to release any excess water. Tom, still glaring at Bill, shivered. "I want an answer." Bill titled his head, smiling innocently. "It's time to get up," he said. "You weren't getting up, so I got you up." "By splashing us with ice water?" Tom cried, frowning. "There are easier ways to get us up, you know." "And none of them were working," Bill retorted. "Now, get up. Breakfast will be ready soon." He turned and walked to the door, cocking his hip to the side as he turned and scowled at the pair still on the bed. "If you're not downstairs within the next ten minutes, dressed in some form of clothes, I will come back up here with more water." Tom shot Bill a look from his current position, trying to cover anything indecent. "Who died and made you ruler?" he asked, frowning. "Since no one else is willing to come up and take that responsibility, aside from poor Gustav, then I will," Bill said. "I don't tolerate late sleepers such as you two and I don't tolerate indecent behaviour while I'm in the room." "It's our house," Tom said, sitting up and pulling the blanket around his lower half. "We can do whatever the hell we please, even with you around." "Not anymore," Bill shot back, brandishing the empty bucket at Tom. "Things have got to change around here and having me around will see to it." Tom turned to Georg, frowning. "Aren't you going to say anything?" he asked. Georg shrugged. "Maybe he's right," he replied, sitting up and yawning. "Maybe he's not. Just go with it." Tom's frown turned into a pout. Bill smiled, turning around. "Ten minutes, boys," he said from over his shoulder before walking downstairs. Georg yawned widely and cracked his neck, watching as Tom got off the bed to search for a pair of shorts. He licked his lips as he watched Tom bend over to retrieve his boxers and sliding them on before finding a shirt and slipping that on, too. The shirt fell well past his boxers and knees and rested at about mid-thigh, making it seem like Tom was wearing a dress more than an over-large shirt. Georg cracked a smile and got out of bed, getting behind Tom and wrapping his arms around the other. "You sure you don't want to try out dresses?" he asked, fanning his fingers out on Tom's abdomen. "You're wearing shirts baggy enough to call them dresses, I almost want to see you in an actual dress." "No way," Tom said instantly. "I only wear such baggy shirts because you never know when my pants are going to fall down and my dick would be hanging out for all eyes to see." "You wouldn't have that problem with tight pants," Georg countered, moving his fingers lower on Tom's abdomen, lying just above the waistband of his boxer's. "I wouldn't," Tom agreed, "but I'd end up suffocating myself down there. Baggy clothes are the way to go." "Not even for me?" Georg asked, pressing a kiss to Tom's neck before pouting. "You know you tried doing this to me a couple weeks ago," Tom said. "I could hardly walk without making it look like I've got something stuck up my arse." "You're not used to it," Georg said, pressing their bodies together; his naked one to Tom's dressed one. "If you were to wear tight clothes all the time, you wouldn't look like you've got something shoved up your arse." "But they ride up something terrible," Tom whined, pouting himself. "You don't even realize how many times I had to adjust myself that day." "I do, actually," Georg said, gently thrusting himself against Tom. "You were squirming so much, I had to restrain myself from dragging you into the nearest closet and tearing those pants off you to fuck you dry." His fingers held Tom's hips still as he thrust against the other, sighing softly. "We can't do this now," Tom said, shivering. "Why not?" "He'd come back up and start screaming at us." Tom squirmed and twisted in Georg's hold, smiling lightly. "We've already wasted six minutes talking, I'll make it up to you later on." Georg growled, leaning forward enough to bite Tom's ear. "You better," he said, releasing Tom in favour of looking for clothes to wear. Tom waited by the door with a smile on his face. Georg had found and wriggled into boxers, but he was having trouble finding a shirt. It was mentioned early on last night, after a delicious dinner of stir-fry vegetables and blackened, cinnamon-sweetened steak with curried rice and steamed snow peas, Bill made it clear that he didn't want anyone wandering around without shirts and boxers or pants on. The distant threat of being doused with ice cold water while they were sleeping, sheets and all, got each person to agree quite willingly; no one wanted to suffer being cold without the relief of dry, warm sheets to hide underneath. Tom shook his head and glanced at the clock on the nightstand before looking at Georg. "Are you ready yet?" he asked. "You've managed to waste three minutes looking for a shirt." "I found one while you were out in space, Tom," Georg said, grinning. "We ought to hurry or we'll be greeted with more cold water." Tom made a face and walked from their room and down the stairs, the smell of breakfast wafting into their noses once they reached the living room. Gustav was sitting on the couch, glancing up from a book he was reading when Tom and Georg entered the room. "It's about time you two came down here." Gustav marked his book and put it down. "Bill was ready to go back up with more water if you weren't down here by now." "I'm already cold," Tom muttered, shivering minutely. "He could have easily yanked the mattress from under us without having to douse us in water." "I never actually thought about that," Bill commented from the doorway leading into the kitchen. "I've always used ice water to get people up." He looked at Tom and smiled. "I'll make a note of it for later reference." "Being tossed to the ground is better than getting chilled," Tom mumbled, plopping a seat next to Gustav. "So, why are we up so early?" "Well, for one, I don't tolerate late sleepers," Bill said, wiping his hands on the apron wrapped around his waist. "For another, we're going shopping." "Shopping?" Georg echoed, plopping himself next to Tom. "For what?" "Your fridge is absolutely horrible with the state its in," Bill replied, sniffing lightly. "Plus, there needs to be more food in this house as I only got enough to last us through until tomorrow at lunch." He pushed an errant strand of hair from his eyes behind his ear. "Getting an early start only means we can get this over faster and you guys can rest a little before going through this area you call a living room." "Why don't you go through this area?" Tom asked. "You're the maid." Bill glared at Tom. "Not only am I a maid," he said, "but I also don't know what the fuck resides in the niches around here. Surely you're sloppy arse can go through the mess you've made." He jutted his hip out slightly and placed a hand on it. "Besides, if I were to try and clean out this area, then all my plans for dinner would all be in shambles." Tom frowned and glanced around the living room. "It's not that bad," he said. "When was the last time you cleaned?" Bill asked. Tom was silent, trying to remember when exactly they properly cleaned anywhere in the house. Bill smirked and turned, tossing over his shoulder that they should move into the dining room for breakfast before heading into the kitchen. Gustav stood first, glancing around the room for a few seconds before heading into the dining room with Georg and Tom in tow. The dining room, though still as messy as everywhere else, had a good sized area cleaned out for the boys to eat and for the food to be placed on the table. Gustav noted that there was only three areas cleaned out and planned on asking Bill where he would be eating as he sat down on a chair and rested his elbows on the table. Georg and Tom took the only remaining seats next to each other, Georg resting his head on the beige tablecloth while Tom simply sat and stared at the wall behind Gustav. It was only minutes later when Bill came out with his hands loaded down with plates filled with pancakes, omelets, and other assortments of breakfast foods. He smiled briefly and placed the plates down at the centre area. He then left and returned with a bowl of hastily made fruit salad, a jug of orange juice, and a small, round condiment tray, placing those on the table before leaving with a small curtsy. Tom watched him go, confusion written on his face. "Where's he going?" he asked. "I could ask the same question," Gustav replied. "He ate with us last night. I wonder why he's not eating with us now." "Maybe he's eaten already," Georg suggested, picking up two pancakes and putting them on his own plate. "He was up pretty early," Gustav commented, choosing his own pancakes. Silence fell upon the table, the only sounds being the clatter of silverware on plates or the occasional sound of appreciation from someone. Half an hour had gone by and Bill hadn't returned from places unknown yet. Gustav was getting a little worried. He finished his pancakes and stood, wiping his mouth. Georg looked at him, the question in his eyes. "Where you going?" Tom asked through a mouthful of Texas omelet. "I'm going to find out where Bill went." Gustav turned to the kitchen in which Bill was last seen, pushing open the swinging door gently. He frowned when he didn't see Bill, nor the mess from earlier when he had tossed flour at Bill and Bill had retaliated by throwing an apple core at him, which had resulted in a small food war and almost the whole kitchen covered, but neither boy with a stitch of food on them save for some flour. The kitchen was now spotless, leaving behind no trace of what had transpired and certainly no trace of Bill. Gustav bit his lip and went up the stairs hidden in a niche, which lead up to the attic if you were crazy enough to climb nearly four flights of spiraling stairs. The higher Gustav climbed, the more dust accumulated before his eyes, making his eyes water and his nose to itch terribly. He sneezed and coughed many times before reaching the attic, out of breath and sneezing up a storm. He looked around the dusty attic, seeing age old boxes and nearly hundreds of cobwebs, but no Bill. Had Gustav come up here for nothing? It was the only other place he could search for Bill unless Bill was a mastermind and sneaked by them while they were eating. "Bill?" Movement to his right caught Gustav's attention and Bill's head appeared from behind a massive trunk, situated underneath a large cobweb. Gustav made his way over, wondering why Bill had come up to the attic of all places. "Bill, what are you doing here?" Bill sneezed and looked up at Gustav. "I found the staircase and my curiosity got the better of me," he replied. "I don't know what got me all the way up here; I thought I'd stop when I reached the first cloud of dust that attacked." "And the cobwebs?" Gustav asked, gesturing to one separating him from Bill. "Bah, they're just spiderwebs," Bill said, swiping at the webbing and making a face. "Sticky, though it may be, it's harmless." "Spiders don't scare you, but snakes do," Gustav said, smiling. "I had a bad run-in with a snake when I was younger," Bill said, as if that explained everything. "What happened?" "My stupid brother never kept the cage tightly shut." Bill sniffed and sneezed again. "The goddamn thing kept getting out and coming for me. The final straw was when it was so big it had to stay in a cage in the garage and it got out, only to nearly squeeze the life from me." Gustav frowned, rubbing his nose. "My guess is that your parents got rid of it after that," he assumed. Bill nodded and wiped his hands on his apron. He turned and smiled at Gustav, standing. "Let's get out of here," he said. "I can't take this atmosphere anymore." Gustav nodded in agreement and located the stairs again, quickly descending them and into fresher air. Both coughed to clear their throats, Bill brushing off himself then Gustav, muttering about wandering around with dust clinging like leeches. Gustav batted away Bill's hands, brushing himself off with a smile. "Go get out of that uniform and into the clothes you showed me earlier," he suggested. "We can't have you shopping, dressed in a far too short maid's uniform." Bill grinned at Gustav. "You'd like that, wouldn't you," he said and it wasn't a question. Gustav licked his lips, shrugging. "Perhaps," he said, gently shoving Bill in the direction of the living room. "Go get dressed; I'll get Tom and Georg into gear for a long day." Bill smiled and nodded. "Thanks," he said, disappearing into the living room and up the stairs, passing Georg and Tom in the dining room as he went. Gustav followed soon after, looking at the pair. "Up and at 'em, you two," he said. "Bill says we have a big day ahead, let's try and be civil today." "If he continues cooking food like he just did," Tom said, standing, "then I'll be willing to do pretty much anything he says." "Be careful what you wish for, Tom!" Bill called from upstairs. "I could ask you to wear my little red hot pants and a fishnet shirt and then go outside dressed like that and you'd be willing!" "I would not!" Tom called back, avoiding Georg's appreciative grin at the thought. They all went upstairs, trading words as they dressed. Tom had eventually agreed to wearing tighter clothes, much to Georg's thrill and Bill's smug expression; still complaining that the pants rode up horribly. "It feels like I'm wearing a thong," Tom complained, wriggling in place. "You're not wearing anything but the pants, Tom," Georg reminded, coming up behind him and wrapping his arms around Tom. "It still feels like I'm wearing a thong," Tom mumbled, wrapping his arms around his bare middle. "But if you were to pass gas and were wearing a thong, would it make the same sound that grass makes when you blow into it?" Bill asked. "Excuse me?" Tom stared at Bill, an unreadable expression on his face. "You know how thongs are," Bill said. "That little piece of clothing between your bum is much like a blade of grass. If one were to pass gas while wearing a thong, would it make the same exact sound as blowing into a blade of grass." "Not exactly," Tom replied, "but it's similar." Bill smiled. "Now take leather, such as the pants you're currently wearing," he said. "Since it's riding up your bum much like a thong and sliding together; if you pass gas now, what sound would it make?" "How the fuck should I know?" Tom asked, raising an eyebrow. Bill shrugged, not answering. He looked through the bag he had over his shoulder. He made sure he had everything before taking Gustav's arm and leading the way out of the house, making comments about the yard and the weather, mentioning how it may rain later on. Tom shook his head at Bill, wondering if fighting with him was really worth it. Making jibes at Bill was fun, but Bill was always harsh on his comebacks, making Tom rethink what he said. He briefly tightened his grip on Georg's arm before relaxing again, watching Bill chatter on to Gustav. Gustav didn't seem the least bit interested, but he smiled and nodded at all the right times, sometimes putting in his comments for good measure. "You do realize the nearest appliance store is in the next town over," Georg finally piped up. "So?" Bill glanced over his shoulder at Georg. "The next town is at least two miles from where we currently stand," Tom replied. "Walking is good for you," Bill said, waving his hand in an uncaring way. "Plus, I haven't seen any kind of car pass us by once, let alone a cab." "So, you plan on making us exercise?" Tom asked, shivering when a harsh breeze blew past. Bill nodded. "Walking is good for you," he repeated. "It builds leg muscles and a better respiratory system." Tom shook his head, inhaling and exhaling slowly. If Bill made them walk any more, there would be problems... ~TBC~ |