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KAAMOS (A Tale For Grown-up Kids)	By : runningnakedinthepark Category: Singers/Bands/Musicians > Rammstein Views: 2131 -:- 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.

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KAAMOS (A Tale For Grown-up Kids)

Title: KAAMOS (A Tale For Grown-up Kids)
Author: Robby a.k.a. Mr Naked
Rating: NC17
Pairing: everyone and then some more
Disclaimer: I was smoking some really good stuff when I came up with this.
Betas: flowers and thank yous go to Hannelore_K & Ketene
Author's note: This AU fic has been inspired by Apocalyptica's song “Kaamos”. Kaamos means “darkness” in Finish and this term refers to the phenomenon known as “polar night”. During the polar night, the Sun doesn't rise above the horizon for more than 24 hours. More information about this you can find at Wikipedia (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Polar_night); this story will be cross-posted in several sites, among which my own personal archive ( http://community.livejournal.com/mrnakedslash/), but there it will be accompanied by an explanation about different parts of this story. So, those interested, will be able to find there more “insights” about this fiction. Because it is an AU story, expect to find from time to time some fractured logic, if you wonder why this or why that, wait until the end, because there will be answers to your questions. What might sound without any sense, will make sense in the following chapters. Anyway, hope you'll enjoy it, I've been working on it for more that one year and half. And I'm still polishing it.

KAAMOS (A Tale For Grown-up Kids)
Part I. The Day The Whole World Went Away
Chapter 1.

“Are you all right?”

I open my eyes.

At first I see only this hot darkness around me. Then, after few seconds, my sight gets accustomed to the night and to this new place I’m in.

The first thing I perceive is this regular sound, like somewhere, not too far, outside this room though, these huge lungs are breathing: inhale, exhale…

I’m lying in a bed, naked, in a small room; on its walls, dim light from outside carves shapes like shadows of things from an outer world. But something seems so peaceful here that I sigh somehow in relief - at least it is quiet here.

Also, I’m not alone.

I turn my head and see him – his facial features profiled on the dark background, his skin glowing in the silvery light coming through the windows, his longish curly hair appearing dark-blue.

“Christoph?” I emit this choked whisper.

The sight of him stuns me; I’m breathless, like I’ve never seen anything so beautiful before in my life.

“Yes, honey?” He replies mocking me.

He is lying on his side, facing me, with his elbow propped on the pillow and resting his head in his palm. I remain reclined on my back, with my arms crossed under my head.

I realize that, somewhere in the back of my mind, I’m wishing to remain like this, in this place, forever. In this bed, amazed and captivated by the sight of this man that now raises his hand to place it on my chest and make it travel slowly and warm over my sternum down to my abdomen.

The shapes of his naked body, glittering surreal like it would be covered by a blue-silver aura, his warm and somehow understanding smile, all make me feel like something inside me is starting to wake up.

“Don’t worry, it happens,” Christoph whispers to me. “You’re just nervous. I’m a bit worried about tomorrow too,” he adds on a confidential tone. “But don’t tell the others,” he grins. “Or is the knee bothering you again?”

My knee?

“What is that about tomorrow?” I ask on the same choked whisper.

Christoph leans over me and places a soft, paternal kiss on my face, near the corner of my lips, as if saying: “Don’t bother your pretty head with that!”

“Our D day,” he adds as his hand caresses the shapes of my muscles on my abdomen. “Mmmmm…” he moans, amused, as he kisses along my jaw line. “I’ve always had a thing for a nice face covered with stubble,” he laughs quietly and rubs his cheek against my neck and chin. “Though I’ll be all red tomorrow,” he chuckles, and embraces my Adam-apple with his lips sucking a bit on it, while his lank fingers sneak between my thighs. “Mmmm, what do we have here?” He chuckles again, amused, as his back of the hand brushes along my awakening cock and on my balls. “Looks like you want to give me another chance,” he adds and leans over my nipple to suck and play his tongue on it.

I place one of my hands on the back of his head and run my fingers through his hair as he goes downward with the kisses, over my chest, my abdomen, my waist, at the same time shoving away, bit by bit, the corner of the bed sheet covering my groin.

I only moan, recline further and close my eyes, my entire being focusing on those warm touches on my hot skin; in the background I hear again that whooshing rhythmical sound, as if near our window there’d be this enormous asleep creature: Inhale, exhale…

This pair of lips encircles hot and wet the top of my erect cock, while Christoph’s fingers play with my balls. I moan, with eyes closed, and both my hands caress his head, his neck and his shoulders for those few minutes as he is playing his lips along my stiffened member. Then, his mouth leaves it; I open my eyes again, as I feel him moving over me. He stretches to get something from the nightstand, then he leans above me; I open my mouth to receive this slow and delicate kiss of his. He chews gently on my lips and then sucks my tongue, as he rubs his thigh against my cock. I move a bit, trying to part my legs more, to feel more of his caress, but in that instant a sharp pain like icy lighting travels along my right leg.

“Fuck!” I groan in his mouth, and tear my lips off the kiss, while my hand tries to grab that achy knee, but my fingers bump into metal strings.

“Shit!” I hear his hiss as I groan again, startled: “What the fuck?!”

I place my head on the pillow, again, waiting, with closed eyes, for the pain to go away. Christoph doesn’t move; he remains above me, motionless, with his hands resting near each of my sides. Then he kisses the nape of my neck, and whispers in my ear:

“I’m sorry!”

“It’s not your fault,” I’m trying not to allow any moan of pain to resound in my voice. “Guess I shouldn’t have tried to move my leg.”

He plants another kiss right below my earlobe.

“Maybe I should leave you,” he whispers.

“No, it was okay,” I reply.

The ends of his black curls are falling right on my face skin, tickling me.

“Hmmm,” he emits and then we both burst into laughter.

Then our lips meet again, as we start kissing again; I stretch out my arms until I feel the silky shapes of his thighs. So, that was what he was asking about, my knee…

He detaches from the kiss, and puts his legs on either sides of my waist, then leans again over me.

“What happened to my knee?”

“I will tell you later,” he whispers, as he appears to uncap a small tube and pour the content on his palm.

It’s not like I’m so eager to find out right now, when there’s better things to do for me, but how come he isn’t surprised that I don’t know?

“I don’t remember,” I say as that slick and oily palm of his encircles my cock and starts stroking it, waking it back to life.

“Don’t worry, Till,” he replies like he was talking about something really meaningless. “Right now, I’m gonna sit on your cock and ride you like a horse from hell,” he laughs, rubbing his thumb over the tip of my cock. “And you only close your eyes, lay back and enjoy it,” he adds, and leans again over me to kiss me.

Then he takes my palm in his oily hands, pours some lube, and guides my fingers between his thighs, over his ass.

“Lube me, big guy,” he says; he shakes his head to throw those curls away from his face, his hand getting back its place on my cock.

I obey, parting his legs even more, sneaking my finger inside him and lubing him.

“And tomorrow we’ll unleash the real Hell,” he adds, straightening his back, allowing the moonlight to bathe all his nakedness.

He rises a bit, and then he descends - allowing my cock to enter him as I hold it steady.

“This is so fucking good, “ he hisses, and starts to move slowly, up and down, on my cock.

I clench my fingers over the stiff flesh of his thighs, his fingers clutching over my forearms. I want to get his cock to stroke it, but he doesn’t allow me to. I feel my right leg sore and numb, but somehow, this pain only enhances the flashes of pleasure crossing my fibers. All I hear now is his panting uniting with my low moans; through my eyelashes I see his white glowing skin, his head leaned backward, his dark curls glittering and moving – this image of a naked witch riding her horse through the sky in a night with a silvery Moon crosses my mind. I push him even further onto my cock; I rather feel than hear his grunt of slight pain, but I continue to force him further on my cock, until this flame ignites itself inside me, rocketing me to the skies as I cum in him. And he stays motionless, until I release my last drop, and even after. I remain with closed eyes, trying to catch my breath. He moves a bit, pulling himself off my cock, and I feel his damp, hot forehead resting gently over mine.

“Are you alright?” He asks voiceless, and I only nod, still with my eyes closed as I’m licking my dry lips.

I wrap my arms around his body, slippery with sweat, and I squeeze him to my chest. We remain like that, listening in silence to that cadenced whooshing from outside. I really wish I knew what it was because for some reason unknown to me, it’s giving me a weird feeling, like something unsettling and foretelling of bad things is trying to sneak into my heart each time I hear that massive breathing from outside.

I should stand up and go take a look. But, what about the leg?

Christoph kisses my neck then he rolls on his back, near me.

“Want a cig?” he asks.

“Yes,” I answer, and look at him rising on his knees to search for the cigs on the nightstand.

“What’s that outside?” I ask, and in the same second an unexpected frozen shiver crosses my whole body.

“That’s the Beast,” he mumbles sitting back on the bed and lighting a cig for me.

Why is he acting like I’d be some helpless idiot?

I take the cig from his fingers and drag the first smoke.

Then he gets off the bed.

“I’ll go clean myself a bit,” he says and walks toward a door.

“What happened to my knee?” I ask.

He sighs and stops near the door.

“You still can’t remember, Till,” he answers in a choked voice. “Maybe it’s for the best,” he adds, and opens the door.

He turns on the light into what seems a bathroom, and remains motionless in the threshold, seeming to be thinking of something.

“You will remember all, I guess,” he starts again, but for whatever reason there’s a heavy bitterness in his voice, thick and poisonous.

I see his silhouette – a black slim shape on the jaundice background of the electric light pouring from the bathroom. An irrational fear starts crawling like an icy snake to my heart.

“But I say you’re very lucky not remembering anything,” he whispers as I realize that I wish he wouldn’t go in there, that I’m actually so frightened that he will leave me here, alone, helpless…

“Don’t worry,” he says changing his tone and turning around. “I’m leaving the door open. You can talk to me if you want, but I’m not sure I will be able to hear you,” he continues and I hear the taps being turned on, and water gurgling through pipes. “Also, I don’t think you should talk too loud, the others want to sleep because tomorrow…”

And his strand of words melts into the sounds of water hitting the walls of a tub or something.
I’m still a bit annoyed, this cold claw of the fear is still squeezing my heart, no matter how much I tell myself that this is completely stupid, that I’m a grownup and I shouldn’t have this childish angst of being abandoned.

I rise on my elbow, looking for the ashtray. In the light from the bathroom, combined with the light from outside I see that it has very little furniture, this bed with the nightstand, a table with two chairs, and a slim, tall rack of shelves in a corner. The large windows have no curtains, nothing, allowing the moonlight to get in so generously. From here, from this bed, I can get to see a large portion of a clear blue sky filled with stars, like someone put his hand in a bag with diamond dust and scattered it over the dark, endless surface.

I put out the cig; from the bathroom comes the sound of water and, from time to time, Christoph’s voice, though I can’t understand what he is saying. Probably isn’t anything important; he’s probably talking just to assure me that he’s there, at only few steps away from me. Yet, how come I’m so frightened?

~ To Be Continued ~
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KAAMOS (A Tale For Grown-up Kids)