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Cherry	By : Cyndiana Category: Singers/Bands/Musicians > Rammstein Views: 1621 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction. I do not know the members of Rammstein. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 1-Cherry
- 1
Title: Cherry
Author: Cyndiana
Rating: NC-17 for graphic depictions of M/M sexuality and language
Archive: A Feather in the Blood (http://groups.yahoo.com/group/afeatherintheblood/)
Pairing: Paul/Schneider
Synopsis: Paul and Schneider pre-R+. Schneider doesn’t just LOOK innocent, he actually IS, and this drives Paul madder than he ever imagined!
Author’s Note: I was intrigued by pictures (early ones) of Paul, Schneider, and Flake, so here we go…ABOUT THE ‘FLAVORS” SERIES: This is a series I started on A Feather in the Blood, where each story's title is some sort of flavor.
Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction. It is not written for any kind of financial gain, only hormonal. Any similarity to real events, or other slash fics is completely unintentional. Enjoy. The song referenced in here is “Cherry Cherry” by Neil Diamond.

*******************************************

“She got the way to move me CHERRY!” Paul sings, in that ghastly falsetto of his, dancing like a fool.
“Shut the fuck UP, Paul!”
“Cherry bayyyybay!!!”

I shove him, and use the length of my legs to walk many strides ahead of him. He jogs and catches up to me.

“It’s okay, my little Jungfrau.”
“Don’t call me that!” I hiss at him, taking a comfortable lead once more.

He catches up to me AGAIN. He just doesn’t give up!

“There’s no shame in being a virgin.”
“Then why are you teasing me so relentlessly about it?”
“Because it’s fucking HILARIOUS!”

I shove him until he falls on the ground, square on his ass, cackling madly, and I storm into our apartment.

I slam my bedroom door. I lay on my bed, arms folded over my chest, anger sizzling through my veins like magma. I’m not as mad at HIM so much as at myself for telling him.

He comes into the shabby apartment we share. He’s still humming that fucking song…

”She got the way to move me...hmmm...mmmm.”

I can’t tell if he’s still doing it to get under my skin, or if it’s just stuck in his head. It would serve him right, being condemned to hearing Neil Diamond in his head for eternity.

I wish to GOD I hadn’t told him. It started with a question.

“You know that way chicks moan when you’re really fucking them good? That kind of, ‘Oh, oh, oh, UHHHHH…’ thing, when they forget they’re supposed to be womanly, and go all primal? Schneider?”

I just sat there with a blank expression.

“I can see you’ve never fucked a chick very well, apparently…”
“…Or at all.”

Oh shit…I knew then I’d said WAY too much!

“You’re a virgin? Schneider?”

By then I’d already gotten quite a few paces ahead of him. I hated having to walk everywhere with him. We need a fucking car. Walking led to conversation, and now, ultimately, to my humiliation.

“What’s that song? It vaguely comes to mind now…”

How did he catch up to me?

“…Oh yeah! ‘She got the way to move me CHERRY!”

********************************

“Schneider? Oh, Christo-lein? Chrissy-poo?”

He was trying to smoke me out of my hive, but it wasn’t going to work. I’m not going to give him the satisfaction of winding me up.

I hear Flake come into the apartment.

“Paul, what ARE you going on about now?”
“Princess Christophene is pure and chaste…”
“Good to know.” He replies, and I hear him setting down some packages.
“Nooo! You don’t understand me, Flake. He’s a virgin!”

Ok, I’m wound up. He won.

I bolt for my bedroom door, ripping it open.

“Paul you fucking twat! Are you going to tell the whole world, then? I could call the news station if you’d like.”

He laughs cruelly.

“Twenty-something wannabe rock star has never fucked a chick! Film at 11!”

Flake shoots him a scolding glance, but Paul is GONE, laughing madly at his own ridiculous joke. I slam my door.

Why me? Why-fucking-ME?

I hear Flake scolding him, and Paul’s bedroom door close. Then I hear a knock at my door. By process of elimination, I know it must be Flake, so I call, “It’s open.”

He slides into the room, taking a seat at the foot of my bed.

“Is it true?”
“Why is it such a big DEAL?” I ask, beating my fists into my mattress.
“It isn’t…really…”
“You hesitated.” I say.
“No I didn’t.”
“Why is it a big deal?” I urge.
“It is out-of-sorts.”
“What? That I haven’t fucked the first woman that’s offered? I’m not PAUL.”
“I heard THAT!”

I punch the wall that lies against the side of my bed. I forget how paper thin these walls are.

“Paul, butt the fuck out!”
I heard him chuckling.
“No, Chrissy, I don’t want to butt fuck you, but thanks for the offer!”
I roll my eyes.
Flake calls, “If I give you some cash will you go out for a while?”
“I just went out.”
“500 Deutschmarks*.”
“I could always go out again.”

Paul pops in long enough to collect his bribe and leaves. Thank God!

Flake leaves for a moment, and returns with a large bag of pot and a bottle of cheap brandy we usually only share on celebratory occasions. He was going to lube the truth right out of me.

He rolls up a large blunt, and we share it, chasing each puff with a swig of liquid fire. Soon, I feel all the tension leaving me, until he speaks finally.

“What is the real thing that has kept you from…being with a woman?”
I shrug my shoulders, half trying to answer him, and half trying to loosen up the knots that have set up in the muscles there.
“You can tell me, Schneider. I’ve heard it all.”
“All the reasons men remain virgins?”
“No, all the reasons men do ANYTHING. Why they fuck sheep, why they refuse to wash certain pairs of their underwear [a clear reference to Paul’s rancid “lucky drawers”, the ones he lost HIS virginity in, has never washed, and can and does still wear]. I’ve heard it all.”

I sigh, and look away from him.
“I don’t know…I’ve just…Never had this real URGE to go and fuck a woman. They offer, but I’m never moved to accept. There’s no rhyme or reason, really, just…” I shrug my shoulders again, and take another puff of weed.

He fidgets with his hands, folding and unfolding them.

“What, Flake?”
“Hmm? Nothing.”
“You’d be shit at poker, I can read your face like a book. What is it?”
“How about fucking men?”

Is he coming on to me???

“No! No, never! Never have, and never…noo, noo….”

Toward the end I can tell I’m more convincing myself than him.

“It’s all right, Schneider. There’s no shame. Love is love, no matter what form it takes.”

Now I’m a bit uncomfortable, and cross.
“What about you then? Have YOU ever wanted to fuck a man?” I ask, yanking the brandy flask from him and taking a swig.
“I can’t say it hasn’t crossed my mind.”

I choke mid-swig. He instinctually pats me on the back.

“With WHO?”
“No one in particular, Schneider, calm down.” He chuckles softly, taking a hit of the weed.
“And?”
“And what?”
“And how did you…FEEL…when you thought about fucking a man?”
“Not too bad. It wasn’t a completely off-putting idea. If it was the right circumstance, I’d probably be amenable to it.”
“So you’ve never actually…?”
“I’ve kissed a man.”

He says it so bluntly, it rings more as if he said he’d shook one’s hand.

“Is that it?”
He grins wickedly. “And Paul went down on me once.”

I read his face to see if he is at all kidding, but his evil grin says it all.

“Try that out on him next time he ribs you for being a virgin. ‘At least I have never sucked Flake’s dick!’“

Flake roars with laughter, an obvious side effect of the weed.

After a few moments of Flake’s cackling, I try to rein him back in to the conversation at hand.

“How did that happen?”
“What?”
“Flake, you ass, you know EXACTLY ‘what’!”
“Oh, that…”

“Paul had some girl over, and they were making quite a display on the couch, while I was trying to read. It annoyed me GREATLY, so I huffed off to my room. They fucked, she left, and Paul burst into my room, uninvited. After I regaled him for being so rude, he got this stupid grin on his face. He taunted me, something about their actions making me horny, and that I was jealous. Of course, this wasn’t even the case. He asked me if it was the head job she’d given him that did it, declaring she gave good head. I told him I didn’t particularly care for oral sex. To me it’s degrading, banal, and completely routine. Not something I’d want to do with someone I felt comfortable enough with to have sex with. He said something about it not being done to me right, so innocently I told him, 'If you think you can do it right, get to it then.' The little shit took me SERIOUSLY!”

Ok, now I’M the one who’s laughing, beating at the mattress from the force of it. My sides are aching, and Flake sits demurely, still puffing the blunt he hasn’t shared the whole time he told his story, so I take it from him and get a puff.

“And?”
"It wasn’t half-bad. Because I have no emotional entanglements with him, and I know quite well he’s a whore, so much for respecting him, I could really let myself go. It was very freeing.”
“How freeing?”

I pass him the blunt. We’ve long ago forgotten all about the brandy.

“I don’t think I understand your question.” He replies with a grin that damn well says that he does, but for his benefit, I rephrase.

“Did you CUM?”
“Oh, yes. And he swallowed. Dirne.”

I feel a stirring in my ragged combat pants. I nonchalantly place a pillow over my crotch, and sit wondering why this shit is turning me on.

“Who did you kiss?”
"Paul of course. That WAS a good blow job.”

He cackles again, holding his stomach. Now I was SEEING it, in my head…Paul sucking him off, Flake’s stomach that is currently heaving in laughter heaving instead in PLEASURE, the sound as he came, Paul’s grin as he swallowed every drop.

I am hard as a rock.

Flake again regains his composure.

“So, you see, it isn’t a big deal if you prefer men to women.”

He takes a couple last puffs of the blunt, before handing me the roach that was left.

“So, if you need to talk, you know where I live. And if you need a blow-job, you know where Paul lives.”

He chortles, and I flush red with embarrassment. Flake seems not to notice.

“Good night.”

He leaves, I finish the roach, stamp it out, and lay back on my bed, reeling from our conversation.

Paul returns after spending Flake’s money, and knocks on my door.

“Fuck off!”
“I gotcha something.”
I roll my eyes.
“Come in, but be quick about it.”

He does, carrying a bag in his hand.

“If I had a dollar for every time a woman‘s said that to me…” he begins...
“You’d be the poorest slob alive.” I finish.
“Ouch, that really hurt, Schneider! I’m not going to give you your present now.”
“Give it here, then.” He does, bubbling over with glee.

I pull out a small box.

“Pocket…Pussy?”
He falls over laughing.
“I thought you could use some practice!” he says between chortles.
I throw it at him.
"OW!”
“Why don’t you go bug Flake? Maybe YOU could practice sucking him off some more!”

SILENCE.

A long silence…

”He told you about that?”
“Yes he did. Good thing too. Now I can put you in your place.”
He stands up slowly, his mood completely changed.
“Well, then.”
“Paul?”

He turns to leave, looking…Hurt? I take his arm.

“Don’t TOUCH me, Schneider.”
“What is wrong with you?”
“He wasn’t supposed to tell ANYONE.”
“It’s really not that big of a deal, Paul.”
“Yes it is…” his eyes look at the floor. “…if you liked it. And wanted more.”

I caress his arm gently.

“Have you ever...been with a man?” I ask.
“No!” he hisses.
“So, in essence, you’re a Jungfrau yourself?”
He chuckles softly.
“Fuck off, Schneider!”
“Or…you could just fuck ME.”

Deer in the headlights. His eyes gaze wide, astonished by what I’ve just said. The corner of his mouth turns up a little.

“You’ve never fucked ANYONE, so you’d probably be a crap lay.”
“You’ve never fucked a MAN, so the same assumption could be applied to you.”
“Is that a CHALLENGE, Schneider?”

I leave him, and lay on the bed, hands behind my head. An open invitation.

He slinks up over me, and kisses me deeply. His lips taste so GOOD, and I want more. I hold his head, preventing him from pulling them away. Our tongues seduce each other, rolling around on the Liebebett of our palates.

He begins to take off his clothes, and I tremble from anticipation. He begins to undress me in turn. He takes my left nipple into his mouth, flicking his tongue over it. I let out a guttural groan. He pinches the right one between his thumb and forefinger, then switches left to right and right to left.

My cock cries out for contact. He stops his delicious assault upon my nipples and works his way down my abdomen, kissing and nipping. When he reaches my navel, I can feel the head of my cock pressing into his throat. He doesn’t hesitate to take it into his mouth, clear down to the base. He bobs his head furiously, and I practically come up from off the bed from the insane pleasure.

I stop him, I don’t want to cum that way.

I retrieve a bottle of lube that I use for more PRIVATE moments, and I lube myself up.

“You’re not putting that thing in me!”
“If I had a dollar for every time a woman said that to me…”
“You’d be the richest man alive.” He says breathily, kissing me deeply.
He then lays on his stomach.
“Just…don’t hurt me.”

I put the head of my cock at his opening. I slide into him SLOWLY. He whimpers, telling me to stop at certain points, then urging me on. After many moments pass, I have finally fully penetrated him, and I withdraw, then slowly slide back in again. Once he has adjusted to me, I speed up, and plunge a little deeper. I feel like an old pro, oddly, with him.

After a few moments, he pleads for me to speed up, go harder, go deeper, and I oblige all three. He moans, and calls my name, reveling in the new pleasure he has found. He is so exquisitely tight, that before long, I am spraying into him, howling with glee.

I collapse beside him, and he kisses me madly.

My turn.

This little interlude would be pointless if I didn’t do it. So, I hand him the lube.

“Just remember, I was gentle for you.”
“Not toward the end.”
“You begged me not to be!”

He smiles sweetly, assuring me that I’d feel little pain.

“You’ll be in complete control.”

I don’t quite understand what he means, until he sits at the end of the bed, lubing himself up. He signals with his finger for me to come over there, and I do. He turns me to where my back is to him, and eases me into a sitting position. He puts the head of his cock at my opening, and whispers.

“Now you slide down onto me at your own pace.”

And I do, and soon, he’s completely inside of me, and I begin to move up and down. He coos words of encouragement, and caresses my chest, kisses my neck and shoulder as I increase my pace. Wow, this feels amazing! Soon, I’m moaning like a bitch (but I feel too good to care), calling out his name, slamming down onto his lap. I find a spot inside of me that feels exquisite (men have a g-spot? Who knew?) and keep his cock right there. Soon, I hear him whimper, shudder, and cum. The warmth spreads inside of me, and I relish it.

I keep him inside of me, and sit back on his lap. He holds me, and kisses my neck, my cheek, the corner of my mouth.

Soon, we break contact, and I am at a loss for what to do next. I wish I could read his mind, what he thinks about what we just did. He answers my question when he jumps into my bed, and invites himself to spend the night.

“Are you coming, Schneider?” he asks, patting the space of bed beside him.
“I just did a few moments ago.” I kid, and crawl into bed beside him, smiling softly as his arm wraps around me, and his lips lay upon my ear.
He sings softly, “She got the way to move me, Cherry…”
“Paul…Shut up and go to sleep.”

I giggle under my breath, and sing before drifting off myself, “Cherry, baybee…”

************************************

* 500 Deutschmarks were worth about $300 US at that time, pre-Euro.
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