Billie Joe stepped out of his car and moved around the back to unlock the trunk. While pulling his bags out, he looked up at the house and smiled slightly. Fuck, it was good to be home. He'd just finished up a tour that lasted about two months and as much as he loved living like that, it was always nice to come back to California.

He trudged up to the house tiredly, dragging his bags along with him, and paused outside the front door to flip through his keys. He finally discovered the right one and shoved it into the lock. He turned the key and didn't hear the usual click, which sort of disturbed him. He looked down at the knob of the unlocked door, the door that had been unlocked since before he put the key in.

Okay...calm down, he told himself. Who has keys? Tre and Mike, but they'd both been with him obviously, since they were all in the band. Rack his brain though he might, he couldn't think of anyone else that had keys for a long time. He stood, in front of his house, staring at the quickly-darkening night sky and trying to think. Then he remembered. A couple years ago he'd given Tim Armstrong a key.

Billie blinked and looked back down at the door knob, not sure if he was relieved that he had solved the mystery, or even more nervous now. It wasn't that he didn't trust Tim, it was just that the circumstances of him having a key to his house were a bit...well, different. Taking a deep breath he twisted the knob and stepped into his dark, empty house.

He dropped his bags by the floor and sort of glanced around nervously. Stuffing his keys back into his pocket he reached for the light switch. He flicked it - nothing happened. After a few more flicks, he deduced that either the electricians hadn't got his advance payment before going on tour, or that someone had turned it off. He was pretty sure it was the latter.

Licking his lips, Billie pulled off his jacket and hung it on the wall then moved towards the living room, being careful not to trip over anything. Two months away from a place and one sort of forgets how things are situated though, or maybe someone moves them while one is gone, because a few steps later Billie had tripped over a table and landed on his face in the middle of the living room.

From the corner of the room came a light, but sort of scratchy chuckle. "Welcome home, Billie," Tim's familiar voice cut through the dark, kind of slurred. Billie Joe sat up and looked in the direction of the voice.

"Hey, Tim. Nice to see you," he said, trying to keep any hint of the nervousness he felt out of his voice. "Or, not see you, I guess." He gave a small perfunctionary laugh. He heard the creak of leather as Tim left the chair, or at least that's what he assumed was happening. A few moments later Tim's profile came into view, lit by the fading sun coming through closed blinds.

Tim stopped a few feet in front of Billie and looked down at him. "Nice to see you...," he said, then smirked. "...on your knees." Billie had to fight the shiver that shot it's way up his spine and force himself to stand up, though his legs were shaking. Tim moved to the window and pulled up the blinds, shedding a little more light in the room, and Billie almost feel down again.

Tim was dressed in a pair of fairly tight-fitting black jeans with the bottoms cuffed, the obligatory pair of beat-up black chucks, and a green army-style jacket. No shirt. His mohawk was seperated into seven perfect spikes starting at his hairline and creeping their way over his head to trail to the base of his skull, and a deep blue color. Billie took in all of this, Tim standing in front of him smirking and looking so lickable and droolworthy, until Tim's laughter cut through the air again, slightly derisive, and he pulled himself back to reality.

"Uhm...been a long time," Billie stammered. Tim nodded in response.

"Yeh, too long if you ask me." He moved away from the window, taking a couple strides and ending up in front of Billie Joe again. He reached out and let the fingers of his left hand trail down Billie's cheek. Billie blushed, glad it was so dark in here now instead of cursing it. "I missed you," Tim continued, his voice slightly subdued.

Billie couldn't help the short, almost bitter laugh that escaped his throat. "You missed tying me up and molesting me," he accused, not having known he was going to say the words until he had. He winced as Tim laughed loudly. Afterwards,Tim leaned towards Billie. His lips brushed across Billie's cheek, enciting a shiver.

"Well, yeh, mostly," Tim agreed in a whisper. Billie unconciously took a small step closer to Tim, not being able to help himself. He was just so intoxicating, and invigorating, and Billie knew that if he showed up like this five or ten years down the road after not speaking to him in all that time, he would still have the same effect. He was Tim Armstrong. He was addictive, like cocaine - Billie knew it was bad for him but he just kept wanting more.

Tim's tongue darted out as Billie stepped closer and he dragged it slowly along the outer edge of his ear, licking from the lobe slowly up to the top, then back down. He continued this sweet torture, nibbling on Billie's ear lobe until the other man whimpered slightly. Just the response he'd been waiting for, apparently, and as Billie leaned weakly against his chest Tim wrapped an arm around him possessively. Not that he owned Billie, but he knew he could if he wanted to.

Billie let his head drop, laying his forehead on Tim's shoulder as Tim started to bite his neck, the nips getting progressively harsher. Tim pulled him closer and bit into the skin of his neck viciously, and Billie moaned. Tim increased the pain by grinding his teeth together.

Just as Billie started enjoying it thoroughly, Tim pulled away. That's how it always was with Tim - he was a horrible tease. He'd come to Billie unannounced and play these games with him, sometimes hurting him in the best way possible and other times not hurting him at all. Sometimes he'd even stay until Billie fell asleep, but every morning after he was always gone.

Billie had told himself so many times, each time, that it would be the last, but it never was. Even now, after he hadn't heard from Tim in 6 months, he was still completely effortless against him. Tim stepped back from Billie and he instantly missed the feel of Tim against him. He looked up and met Tim's eyes - though his face wasn't laughing, his eyes definately were. Billie knew he enjoyed torturing him, both mentally and physically. He got off on it. And Billie, as trite as it was, got off on being tortured every time. He loved it.

"Miss me, huh?," Tim stated after a moment, the laughing in his eyes obvious in his tone now too. Billie nodded weakly, it's all he could do. 'Of course I missed you!,' he wanted to scream. 'I'm fucking in love with you and I can't help myself!' But he didn't scream, and when Tim took ahold of his wrist and led him back into the darkened hallway he did nothing to deny him.

They stepped into a bedroom that was infintely darker than the rest of the house had been, the only window in it being on the east, and in a second Billie was slammed into the wall by Tim's strong arms. He was pinned there, Tim holding his shoulders down but not pressing the rest of his body against him just yet. His mouth pressed bruisingly against Billie's, forcing it open with his tongue. Billie moaned weakly into the other Armstrong's mouth.

Tim pulled away and wasted no time in ripping open the button-up shirt Billie had on. Though he was now free, Billie didn't move from his place against the wall. He was helpless as Tim's rough hands ran up his chest and gripped his shoulders. Tim pulled Billie to himself roughly, pulling his shirt off as he did and sliding his hands down Billie's back. Billie lay his hands flat on Tim's chest, as if he wanted to push away, as if it were even possible, and Tim tilted his head. He bit into Billie's neck again then left a trail of kisses down his neck to his shoulder.

"Tim...I...," Billie started, already breathless. He didn't know what to say, in reality. Did he want to say 'I love you' or did he want to say 'I can't do this again, it's killing me inside'? Both were true, but he couldn't get either out.

"I know, Billie Joe," Tim said, his breath cooling the skin that his lips had just been on. "I want you, too."

Billie would have tried to object had he thought it the slightest bit possible as Tim pushed him roughly on the bed, but he did and said nothing because it would have been pointless. Tim crawled over him slowly, licking his way up the other man's abdomen to his chest. He stopped when he reached Billie's nipples and teasingly ran his tongue over one, then the other. He blew lightly on them afterwards, making them become hardened and making Billie shiver, then closed his mouth over the left nipple. His tongue swirled in a circle, almost painfully slow, then his teeth bit into the nipple.

Billie Joe closed his eyes, and bit his lip, fighting back a moan. He felt Tim's mouth leave his chest, and had no perception of the other man for a moment. Then he felt the weight of Tim as he straddled his hips, pressing against his steadily-growing erection and he couldn't fight the moan anymore. Tim chuckled in response and pulled Billie's hands from where they rested at his side. He pinned them over Billie's head and leaned down to kiss him harshly once more. Billie groaned and squirmed underneath Tim, not because he wanted to get free but because it felt good and he knew Tim liked him to fight.

The kiss was too short to be appreciated, and as Tim pulled away Billie found himself trying his hardest to sit up and get back to Tim's mouth. Tim laughed sadisitically and used only one hand to hold his wrists now, using the other hand to push Billie back to the bed. He reached down and undid Billie's belt, pulling it from his beltloops easily. Then he leaned over Billie and used it to bind his hands through the slats of the headboard. Billie continued his half-hearted fight as Tim did this.

Now that Billie was bound underneath him, Tim sat back. He let his hands rest on Billie's shoulders then slowly dragged them down his chest, short nails biting into soft skin. Billie arched his back, causing Tim's fingernails to cut deeper into his flesh. As he moaned, Tim grinned.

"You like it when I hurt you, don't you?," he said, his voice having a sadistic tone that Billie never heard from him except in these situations. Billie swallowed hard and nodded, then realized Tim couldn't see it in the all-consuming blackness that surrounded them.

"Yes," he replied breathlessly, pulling against the belt that held his arms above him. Tim dragged his fingernails back up Billie's chest and played his fingertips over his nipples. Then he leaned down and sunk his teeth into Billie's chest. The taste of blood filled his mouth as he broke the flesh and he licked across the shallow wound before placing his lips against Billie's ear.

"Do you want me, Billie Joe?," he whispered seductively in his ear. Billie whimpered loudly. What, it's not fucking obvious?, he thought to himself. Tim's tongue once again darted out to slide along his ear and Billie let his eyes slip shut.

"Say it," Tim demanded, though his voice didn't get any louder it was more dominating. He bit down into the soft skin directly under Billie's earlobe. How the fuck does he expect me to answer when he's doing this?, Billie thought as he moaned loudly. Tim pulled away again.

Billie didn't expect it until it happened, and afterwards his face stung where Tim had backhanded him. He gritted his teeth against the pain, but whimpered at the pleasure of it.

"Say it," Tim repeated, his voice a bit louder this time. His hands ran down Billie's chest, his touch excruciatingly light as they drifted lower.

"Tim...fuck," Billie started hopelessly. Tim's hands were drifting softly over his hipbone and it was a bit distracting to say the least. "Tim...I want you..."

Tim's hand moved to the fly on Billie's pants and he unbuttoned it. "You want me to what, Billie Joe?" Billie whimpered, Tim slowly pulled the zipper down.

"I want...oh, Christ...," Billie whispered, bucking his hips. "I want you..." Tim's hands were slowly pulling his pants off. Billie swallowed hard. "I want you to fuck me, Tim."

Tim laughed coldly and leaned over Billie again, placing a soft, short kiss on his lips. "That's a good boy," he said, and slid Billie's pants down his legs. He pulled them over his boots and tossed them aside, not seeing or caring where they landed. He crawled back over Billie and pressed their lips together as he unbuttoned his own jeans. Billie moaned into Tim's mouth and lifted his hips again in an effort to get closer to Tim. Tim pulled back and moved off of him.

"Don't forget who's in charge here, and who's tied up," he told Billie as he shed his pants. His voice was irritatingly calm. Billie missed his presence on top of him, which wasn't anything new - he usually did - but he was so aroused by this point that it was driving him a little more crazy than usual.

"Tiiiim..." he half-moaned, half-whined. Tim was completely silent and Billie had no idea where he was or what he was doing. He strained his ears to hear something, anything, but all he could catch was the slight rustle of clothing before Tim was on him again.

Billie gasped as Tim bit into his side harshly, teeth cutting into skin again. He felt his boxers being pulled off rougly and bit his lower lip. He felt his own blood pool in his mouth as Tim released his teeth's grip and sat up straight again. Tim roughly pulled Billie's legs up, and he wrapped them obediently around Tim's back.

"Fuck!," Billie cried out as Tim pushed into him without any hesitance. Delicious pain shot through his body. It didn't hurt as much as the first time, but getting fucked up the ass still wasn't something he was used to. Tim laughed.

"Oh, am I hurting you?," he asked, his voice mockingly sympathetic as he pulled almost all the way out of Billie only to push back in roughly. Billie couldn't answer, only moan as Tim's cock brushed his prostate and sent a wave of pleasure rippling through him. As Tim worked up a fast, harsh rythm of fucking Billie he reached down and curled his fingers around Billie's cock.

Both Armstrongs were gasping for breath as Tim slammed into Billie Joe repeatedly, who was writhing pleasantly underneath him as he slid his hand up and down his erection with practiced motions. Billie arched his back as Tim pushed into him and moved his hand back down and screamed loudly. Pleasure, extasy that he only ever derived from these few meetings of this sort he'd had with Tim before completely clouded his brain as he felt Tim release inside of him not two seconds after he, himself, had come.

Tim collapsed, panting, onto Billie's chest as he pulled out of him. Billie unwrapped his legs from around Tim, no longer possessing the strength to keep them there. Tim kissed Billie's neck and chuckled exhaustedly.

"We need to get you a gag next time, scream-boy. You probably woke up half of Berkeley," he told him teasingly. Billie just moaned in response. 'Next time...,' he thought to himself. He knew it was far from a promise, he was never sure afterwards if Tim would return, but he liked the idea regardless. Tim leaned over Billie and kissed him roughly again, the taste of blood still in both of their mouths as he reached up and untied the belt holding Billie to the bed.

Tim layed back, disentangling his limbs from Billies, and reached blindly out on to the bedside table. A moment later there was a flash of light as he lit a cigarette. Tim only ever smoked after sex, Billie had noticed. Not once in the rest of the time they'd spent together had he ever seen Tim take a drag. He had the urge to roll over and curl up with Tim, but he knew he shouldn't. This wasn't about cuddling for Tim, it was about getting off. That was all.

It all crashed into Billie's head as the last of the pleasure left his body. He was being used. He was a toy to Tim, nothing more. Tim didn't come here because he'd missed Billie. Tim had come here to get laid. Billie wondered how many other boys, or girls, Tim habitually did this with. The thought of Tim with someone else made him feel empty. Did he treat them the same way? Did he tie them up and be so rough with them, or was it slower and sweeter? He knew how much Billie liked to be dominated, and he played into that. Did he play into whatever anyone else wanted as well?

Billie sighed and let his eyes drop shut. He didn't want to cry, but he felt like it. He didn't want Tim to be anyone else's. He didn't want to have to even think that Tim might be. Tim shifted next to him and Billie's eyes snapped back open, though he still couldn't see anything.

Tim reached out and slid a hand along Billie's upper arm. Billie flinched and pulled away thoughtlessly, his mind still obsessed with the idea of how many other people Tim touched. Tim scowled into the darkness.

"Billie...?"

"Why don't you go?," Billie said, his voice colder than he'd expected. Tim remained silent for a long time then sat up, the only indication of this to Billie being the movement of the glowing orange tip of his cigarette.

"Why, Billie Joe?," Tim asked, confused. Billie Joe had never said anything like that before.

"It's not like you'll fucking be here when I wake up, so what's the point?," Billie continued. His voice was still harsh, but he was sure that the comment hadn't left Tim guessing about how he felt. He sat up and reached to click on his lamp. To his surprise, light filled the room. He looked over at Tim questioningly.

"I...I only turned off the power in the main rooms," Tim said, almost bashfully. "I didn't think you'd try to turn them on in here."

"Oh, so you wanted to fuck me in the dark," Billie stated. "So you could pretend I was someone else?"

Tim furrowed his brow as he looked at the other man. "Why would you say that?"

"Don't bullshit me, Tim. You think I don't know what this is?," Billie turned to face him. "You come here, two or three times a year, fuck me like no one else can, then leave before the fucking sun comes up. This is a game to you, you don't care. And I'm just left here waiting and wondering when, or even if you'll come back."

Tim looked stricken. "You...I...," he stumbled over his words.

Billie laughed coldly. "Don't try to justify yourself, I know it's the fucking truth. You made me into your fucking toy, complacent to sit and wait for the next time you decide you need to get off, for the next time you wanna torture someone. It's fucking sick, Tim, but I can't get away from it, cuz I -" he stopped suddenly. Fuck, he'd almost said it. He knew he couldn't let Tim have that power over him, let him know how much he loved him and wanted to have him to himself. It was the last thing Billie had, his secrecy.

"You what?," Tim asked, though his tone suggested he knew.

"Fuck you!," Billie suddenly yelled, throwing himself at Tim. He pressed him back onto the bed, his cigarette falling from his hand to the floor. "Fuck you and your fucking calmness! Fuck you and your ability to drive me insane, and make me feel like this then just fucking leave! Fuck you, Tim Armstrong!"

Tim watched Billie Joe in shock. Maybe he had just waited too long since last time, maybe being on tour had stressed him out. Whatever it was, he had snapped and he was now three inches away from Tim's face screaming at him. Tim could only stare back, surprised.

"Fuck you...," Billie repeated, defeatedly as he dropped his head. "Fuck you, I love you."

Tim reached up and ran a hand down the side of Billie Joe's face, a tear dripping from Billie's eye onto his hand as he did. The pain was so apparent in his features that it nearly broke Tim's heart to know he'd done this to him. He chewed on his tongue thoughtfully and remained quiet.

Billie finally realized what was going on here. He was crying, and he had told Tim he loved him. The one thing he had, the last leverage and shred of dignity, it was gone. And what'd Tim do? He didn't laugh, he didn't move away in horror. He actually pretended to care. Billie moved away from Tim, feeling disgusted with himself. He turned his back on Tim and sat down on the other side of the bed.

"You should go," he stated, forcing his voice to stay strong. He had almost expected Tim to argue the point with him, but as he heard clothes rustling behind him he knew that everything he'd suspected was right. Not that he was surprised,but it still hurt. He felt the weight on the bed shift as Tim stood up, then heard his footfalls across the floor. He waited for the sound of the door opening, but it didn't come.

"Billie Joe...," Tim's voice cut into the silence again.

"Go," he repeated firmly. Then it came, the door opened. He heard Tim step out and the door closing behind him. Billie collapsed defeatedly onto the bed, completely exhausted from two months of touring, some of the best sex in the world, and way too many emotions. It didn't take long that night for Billie to fall asleep, tears drying on his face.