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Das ist mein Teil	By : aerie01 Category: Singers/Bands/Musicians > Rammstein Views: 1776 -:- 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
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Title: Das ist mein Teil
Pairing: none, really -- you'll see, but it features Till and Christoph
Rating: R
Summary: During the filming of the music video for Mein Teil, Frau Schneider learns something interesting about Till; Schneider POV
Disclaimer: I own nothing, earn nothing, and assume nothing

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"Oh Gott..."

I couldn't miss that groan. It sounded so full of despair that I stopped the makeup girl from wiping anything more off my face and got up out of the chair to investigate. The groan had come from the dressing room right next to mine; I didn't need to hear it again to know whose mouth had uttered it.

"Till, what's wrong?" I said when I got to the door and peered in. And there was our rugged frontman sitting in front of his mirror with his face in his hands, looking about ready to cry. Which was hardly a state I'd ever thought I'd see him in.

Glancing up, startled to have been overheard, he smirked and shook his head. "Great. Just what I need – a half-man, half-woman...thing...whatever the fuck it is you are...right now."

He was still dressed for the shoot – black vest, black pants, that thick leather dog collar around his neck – but it was his feet on which I focused. Now, I know how big Till's feet are. In fact, I know how big all of Till is – we all do – and yet, his bare toes made him seem surprisingly vulnerable and childlike. "What's wrong?" I reiterated, moving into the room and closing the door behind myself.

"Zoran...he made me...do something that I...that..."

None of us had been allowed into Till's session with the angel. We'd all been filming our own segments for a couple of hours, allowing us to freely express ourselves with no restrictions. Only Till's part had been scripted by our director and Zoran had cackled wildly and rubbed his hands together in anticipation when he'd outlined the basic moves. Kinky bastard. I should've known. All that "Now grab your cock" shtick he'd gleefully shouted to me while we'd filmed my bit should've been the tip off. What had he done to Till? I could feel myself beginning to get angry.

But I didn't interrupt or prompt him to continue, merely leaned casually against the table.

"...The angel wore a strap-on, and things got a bit...well...he made me take it into my mouth," Till practically whispered, choking on a sob. "Oh Gott, it was so embarrassing."

That I was still dressed like Frau Schneider was perhaps a blessing, for it enabled me to put on a facade that I thought would be comforting. I'm surely not as good an actor as Till is, but I thought that perhaps he'd respond to me if I felt maternal. I took a few steps in his direction and put my arms around his trembling shoulders, murmuring soothingly and pressing a kiss to his raven-black hair. "Awww, it's alright, Tillchen. It just got out of hand. You shouldn't feel embarrassed. You were just playing a role."

"But Schneider, you don't understand," he said sadly, his voice breaking. "I...I liked it..."

For the moment, all the breath whooshed out of me. "You...?" I began, then found that I couldn't speak. I couldn't move, I was rooted to the spot. Great silver tears that made it look like his bluegreen eyes were melting flowed heavily down his cheeks; I could feel their wetness through my dress when he turned and buried his face against my side.

My heart was pounding. "You liked it?" I squeaked out, and he nodded miserably. In my mind, I begged him not to say more, for I seriously didn't know how to handle this. After all, Till Lindemann, rock icon, big, strong, handsome Till the lady killer...was confessing to me...what? That he had gay feelings? That the idea of another man's penis in his mouth had turned him on?

"There was a boy...at boarding school long ago," he croaked, wiping his eyes with the back of his hand. Shut up, Till, no, don't go there. "He was a year or two older than me, and his bed was next to mine...He was a handsome boy...a Spanish boy...his name was Antonio. And we got to be great friends. But one night, I woke up to find him with his hand in my pajamas, and I...I didn't know what to do. Maybe I'd had a hard-on in my sleep, I don't know, but he...he was stroking me off, and I kicked him. I kicked him in the face."

"Did you want him, Till?" I asked breathlessly.

His voice became tiny. "...yes. I wanted him. I wanted him to kiss me and fuck me and...and everything. But I got so frightened to think I was...that way....that I kicked him and he never spoke to me again."

"You know, a lot of young boys have those sorts of feelings. It doesn't necessarily mean anything. I was in the Army, you know, and men all crammed together without women around go a little crazy."

He only shook his head, wiped his mouth, looking at our reflections in the mirror. It had to seem pretty bizarre to him, the two of us, he with his very masculine chest peeking through the lapels of the vest and me in my Frau get-up. "Christ, I could use a cigarette – why the fuck did I have to go and quit?"

"Zoran frightened you again, didn't he?" I asked, rubbing one of his well-muscled shoulders. "He showed you that side of yourself, that you've been afraid to acknowledge."

"Maybe I've been repressing it for years, I don't know."

And maybe you've been trying to drown it in one woman after another, never finding any fulfillment because none of them has what you need, I thought, feeling myself start to shake. "Uh, Till, I gotta get all this crap off – this makeup is starting to itch...Why don't you take a shower and I'll see you in a bit...we'll get a drink and talk some more?"

"OK."

I literally fled the singer's side and went in search of the bathroom. What a sight I must've been, ladylike Frau Schneider, running down the hall, trying so desperately not to teeter on these heels! And finally finding the door, I rushed in and locked it behind myself.

I practically ripped the pantyhose, getting them off, and next, my boxer briefs landed in a puddle at my feet. A huge, pulsing erection greeted my hands and I palmed it greedily, loving the feel of myself, so hot, so hard and thick. What a lucky boy young Antonio had been, to touch Till, even briefly. And what I wouldn't give to do the same, to show him the feelings *I* have repressed for years because I thought it wouldn't be good for the band and that he would never reciprocate. But maybe that's all different now. Maybe Zoran cracked open the door for me a little ways. Oh Till, I moaned softly, imagining my own palm to be his gorgeous lips sucking me passionately. Is there any possibility that there could be a chance for us? My blood was boiling, heart pounding. Oh Till, touch me. Hold me in those big strong arms and make me yours.

...And just like that, Frau Schneider had a most unladylike orgasm, crying out with pleasure as she filled her hand – or was that *his* hand – with more pearly liquid than he'd (she'd?) ever seen before. When he could breathe again, he couldn't hold back an insane giggle at the thought that had suddenly invaded his mind: Denn du bist, was du isst...und ihr wisst, was es ist...
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Das ist mein Teil