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Mr. Gorgeous and Mr. Curvaceous	By : runningnakedinthepark Category: Singers/Bands/Musicians > Rammstein Views: 1360 -:- 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-Mr. Gorgeous and Mr. Curvaceous
- 1
Title: Mr. Gorgeous and Mr. Curvaceous
Author: Mr. Naked
Rating: NC 17, M/M sex, coarse language and all the tasty stuff
Pairing: Who else? Richard/Christoph
Disclaimer: This is all pure fiction; none of this happened, just another demented product of my twisted mind!
Summary: A weird morning for Flake.
Tunes list (these are the songs mentioned in the story, and that I’ve listened to for inspiration and writing mood): “Mr. Gorgeous” – Smoke City

Mr. Gorgeous and Mr. Curvaceous

Don’t you hate it? Going to bed late at night, after another exhausting concert, and then you wake up in the morning so really early, without any reason for it, but you’re not able to get back to sleep. Damn!

So that’s why I’m here, in the hotel’s restaurant, getting ready for breakfast, struggling with myself to wake up.

But, for my surprise, Till’s already here, sitting at a table, reading or just looking at the pages of some newspapers, printed in a language I doubt he understands. So I sit at his table, looking around at the hotel personnel rushing around, all still half asleep.

Till finally decides to put down the papers, throws me an amused look, he knows I was getting bored, feeling ignored. Yes, I’m getting bored, but in the same time I’m not really in the mood for conversation. Don’t know if he knows that, but he lights another cig, and starts looking again at me, with a start of a grin in the corner of his lips. He must have got laid last night, thus this good mood he displays this morning.

The waitress places another cup of coffee for him, takes the old one, and asks me what I want to order. I’d like some more sleep, actually the ability to crawl back into my bed and, most important, fall asleep. But I only ask for some coffee too. And, as she leaves, I follow with my glance the shapes and curves of her legs walking, profiled through her not so short skirt.

“Look, there’s Mr. Gorgeous!” Till’s husky voice brings me back a bit to reality.

So I look. Oh, there’s Christoph, making his appearance, walking to the counter.

“Cool and calm, our Mr. Gorgeous, walks to the bar and orders,” I hear again Till’s raspy but amused voice.

“He only asks for coffee!”

“Don’t ruin my story!” Till laughs and coughs, in the same time. The smoker’s cough.

I shut up. Till taps with the lighter on the table.

Christoph talks with the guy behind the counter.

“As he passes by, they all sigh – ah,” continues Till.

I throw him a glance while shaking slowly my head.

“When he moves just like a panther, he feels your gaze, but won’t look at ya,” he replies and grins. Then, whispering, “He won’t dare a smile, because it’s not really his style.”

Then, his loud laugh, sounding so huge in the almost empty restaurant hall. I reply with a faint smile.

He has this dirty look and grin on his face.

I feel my smile getting a bit wider.

“Oh, there’s Mr. Curvaceous!” He almost jumps off his seat, like an excited child.

Wonder what’s he going to say about Richard, that’s making his appearance, walking to the counter too. My God, Mr. Curvaceous!

“He’s so slick and so curvaceous, the way he walks is quite contagious.”

I feel a little fit of laughter shaking my chest.

Till leans toward me and whispers: “My eager eyes follow his thighs and I go – hmmm.”

“You’re drunk already!” I laugh, amused, still, outraged.

“The way he moves strikes a chord, but he ignores my hopeful advances,” he adds and winks. Then he puts on a sad, frustrated grimace on his face as he goes on: “No, he won’t give me a chance at all.”

“Yeah, cause he’s not a fucking fag,” I mutter, looking at Richard as he stands at the counter, but on the other end, opposite to Christoph. Schneider looks around the hall, like he hasn’t noticed us yet, nor Richard. Richard is talking to the guy behind the counter.

The big man near me bursts into laughter again.

The guy behind the counter gives the coffees to both Richard and Christoph, but they remain there, keeping the distance between themselves, ignoring each other, ignoring us as well.

“We should tell them to get their asses here,” I mumble, looking at Till, like asking for his permission.

He takes one last drag of smoke from his cig, and his face grimaces, as he puts off the cig in the ashtray. But I see this joyful sparkle playing in his blue eyes, otherwise so meditative and with a bit of sadness in them.

“Mr. Gorgeous is feeling lonely, he wishes that if he could only smile once in a while,” Till goes on with his tirade. “Ah, poor thing, so lonely!” He concludes on a fake pitiful tone, this time making me laugh.

“So lonely” I add, joining his little game.

“All alone our Mr. Curvaceous, in his hotel room, last night, found his bed too spacious,” continues Till, with more verve, making me laugh even more. “And as he passed his own reflection, he sighed – ooh.”

“Poor things,” I reply as the waitress is here putting my coffee on the table. “They shouldn’t be so alone.”

“Yeah,” grins Till “They should meet.”

“They are ignoring each other now.”

“They should meet and have sex,” suggests Till.

“You’re out of your fucking minds,” I mutter, trying to stop this burst of laughter stuck in my chest.

Clearly, he didn’t have any sex last night and woke up with a boner so stiff he barely was able to take his morning pee.

Till just grins at me, lifting his eyebrows, then he sips his coffee.

“How would Mr. Gorgeous meet Mr. Curvaceous?” I can’t prevent myself from asking.

“Night time. On a bridge, above highways spread like asphalt ribbons and crossing, with lots of cars driving madly, howling, with strong lights on. No passers by, no one would dare to get out and walk over there, except those two lonely souls, so full of lust.”

“A bridge with metal bars, huge metal strings, cold steel glittering in the lights from the cars,” I add, whispering, with my gaze lost somewhere across this hall, beyond the waiters, Mr. Gorgeous and Mr. Curvaceous too.

“Mr. Gorgeous walks slowly, in his cool style. He wears a long black coat, down to his ankles. Under his coat… hmmmm….”

“That shirt with big pink flowers,” I try to help Till.

“Hm, not my choice, but, all right!”

“And Mr. Curvaceous?”

“Mr. Curvaceous is waiting on the bridge, in the cold dark night, wearing a black long coat too, over this female uniform…”

“Female?”

“Well, he has great curves, he has to make the best out of them. Great slim legs, beautiful ass…”

“Makes you sigh – ah!” I laugh.

Till starts to laugh so loud, I’m surprised no one is turning their heads to throw intrigued glances at us.

“So, he looks like one of those army women in World War Two, with his uniform, waiting alone, in that freezing and foggy night,” I pick up the game where it was left.

“Mr. Gorgeous stops right in front of Mr. Curvaceous. He stands still, motionless for few seconds.”

“Mr. Curvaceous looks straight at him, with his head leaned a bit backward. They don’t say a word.”

“Mr. Gorgeous leans above Mr. Curvaceous, puts his lips on Mr. Curvaceous’ lips, slowly, soft, dry, as he opens his mouth to get the other’s lips in his mouth. His body gets closer, as he slides this not too warm hand…”

“…with long thin fingers…”

“…under his skirt, slowly, on his thigh, lifting it, getting it closer to his own thigh, to rub gently against it, as his tongue digs deeper in his mouth.”

“Is he wearing that Grettel blonde wig?”

“Man, you’re impossible!” growls Till and I cringe a little, suddenly feeling all my flesh contracting on me, like trying to make me smaller, almost invisible. “Where were we?”

“Hand on the thigh and …”

“Mr. Gorgeous’ mouth feasting on Mr. Curvaceous’ lips, chewing them gently, tongues wrestling… Mr. Curvaceous rubs his aroused cock against Mr. Gorgeous’ thigh and cock, lifting his leg even more, to coil around his narrow hips, making Mr. Gorgeous moan slightly in his mouth. And Mr. Gorgeous’ hand slides more, on Mr. Curvaceous’ waist, pulling down his undies. Mr. Curvaceous moans too, arching a bit his back, to lay his chest against Mr. Gorgeous’ chest, as the last one kisses him down, along his delicate pointed chin, then down along his stretched neck.”

Wonder if he gets a boner as he tells all this, fantasizing about them…

“Mr. Curvaceous rubs all his body against Mr. Gorgeous’ body, already shaking, asking for it. And Mr. Gorgeous gets him rid off those undies, he lifts his both legs, placing them around his own waist, as Mr. Curvaceous grabs greedily his mouth again, both their moans melting in the sound of roaring traffic underneath them. And Mr. Curvaceous opens wider, as Mr. Gorgeous’ slick fingers gently rub his already aching with desire and wet cock, smudging his fingers in pre-cum, then lubing Mr. Curvaceous.”

“You’ve figured all details out, eh?”

“Mr. Gorgeous positions his cock, and Mr. Curvaceous slides in it, slowly, eyes closed, head leaned backward, back arched, chest touching Mr. Gorgeous’ chest, breathing sharply on the raspy frozen air… And Mr. Curvaceous takes it all in him, loving that feeling of having something so hard, hot and pulsing filling his insides. Mr. Gorgeous’ fingers clench on Mr. Curvaceous’ firm buttocks, digging with his nails in the warm alive flesh, as he begins to thrust. With one hand propped on the bridge’s edge, and the other clenched on Mr. Gorgeous’ shoulders, our Mr. Curvaceous…”

“What’s going on guys?” Paul’s voice makes me freeze.

I look down, on the floor, like searching with my gaze for something that fell off the table.

“Richard and Christoph are having sex on a bridge,” I hear Till’s amused reply.

“Huh?” whimpers Paul, making me look at his stunned face.

But Till laughs, his heavy and raspy laugh filling the hall.

“We’re just goofing off, Paul,” I whisper, trying to get the short man out of shock. “We were making up this story about… Did they fight or something? They keep so distant from each other and us…”

“Maybe it’s just morning grouchiness,” howls Till with laughter. “Cranky asses!”

“So you are coming up with shitty stories about them, eh?” frowns Paul. “With Till I’m not surprised about anything, but with you Flake?”

He starts to yell and grabs my shoulder, shaking me violently. “Are you fucking insane Flake? Come back to reality! Wake the fuck up! Flake, wake up, for fuck sake! It’s fucking late! Wake up!”

“Huh?”

I open my eyes, my gaze meeting Paul’s face in front of me. I feel this warm ray of sun caressing my face. I squirm between the sheets.

“Flake, wake up, is so fucking late, almost noon!” announces me Paul’s worried voice.

I look puzzled at him, behind him, above his shoulders, while I’m rising in the bed. My glance searches around the hotel room, as if I’m looking for someone else, besides Paul.

Maybe for Mr. Gorgeous and Mr. Curvaceous.
- 1
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Mr. Gorgeous and Mr. Curvaceous