Adult-FanFiction.org : Celebrity

From Bratislava, With Love	By : aerie01 Category: Singers/Bands/Musicians > Rammstein Views: 1911 -:- 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-From Bratislava, With Love
- 1
A/N: Inspired by this picture:
http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v236/aquila0212/Rammstein/f8ad18bc27d4.jpg, which is from the Voelkerball LE Bildband; the title of this story is from the caption

The engines quickly lulled him to sleep, almost from the moment he got himself arranged in the seat, actually, and possibly even before they'd left the ground. So when Till awoke somewhere over Europe, he blinked in confusion for a moment. Oh. Still inside the flying toothpaste tube. He reached up to feel something wet on his chin, and then understood – he'd been sleeping, and with his mouth open again, no less, owing to the drool. Charming.

"Sleeping Beauty awakes!" a cheery voice that could only belong to Paul said as Till regained his bearings; sure enough, there was Paul sitting across from him, smiling broadly at the big, handsome man. Schneider poked Till, presenting him with a tissue. The singer murmured thanks, wiping his face.

"Sleep well?"

Till grunted. "Eh. Could've done with about eight hours more."

"Didn't you sleep last night?" Schneider asked. "I could've sworn you were out cold when I got back from the movie."

"I probably was then, but I woke up about three or so and that was it." He would not tell the drummer that he'd had a wet dream. Lieber gott, at his age?! Yep. His prick was every bit as frustrated as the rest of him, if not more.

Rummaging around in the pack at his feet, Till removed a pair of sunglasses and slipped them on, leaning back against the headrest with the intention of shutting out the light and the rest of the world and going back to sleep. Here came his mind again, though, and he would've cringed to see the goofy expresion he had on his face. Christoph and Paul exchanged looks, for it took very little imagination to conjure what Till was thinking about.

Or more correctly, who...and possibly even...when...

+++++++++++
Another show, another night. The boys came off the stage in triumph after delivering a brilliant performance at the Wülheide. As usual, they were exhausted and soaked to the skin, completely high on adrenaline and looking forward to an evening of good food and good friends. Till was the first in the shower, a fact that Richard regarded with much delight. But when Paul spotted him trying to sneak in too, he grabbed the other guitarist around the waist.

"Ah – I wouldn't do that if I were you." He knew only too well what Till could be like after a show. They all did.

"It's OK, Paul – I know what I'm doing..."

Till turned in the shower, startled to see the curtain move, and even more startled to see Richard standing there stark naked, his eyes on fire.

"I wanna fuck The Beast," was all the other man said, his gaze devouring the sight of Till’s gorgeous golden-skinned body, made all the more enticing with the rivulets of water running down it.

"The Beast" was Richard’s name for Till's stage persona, that ultra-masculine hunk of testosterone and muscles that stalked back and forth, commanding the stage. It usually took him a while to shed Him after a performance, so powerful was His claim on Till's soul. And that's why the other Rammsteiners had learned over time not to corner him until he had at least showered away His stink and had had a chance to calm down, because there was no telling the damage He could cause if enraged.

But as Richard had watched him – and not just on this tour, but many many times over the years -- he'd seen this being that turned him on beyond endurance, who was Till but not Till, and just once, he wanted to taste Him, no matter the risk.

"You shouldn't be in here," Till warned, his body belying his words for he was instantly granite hard, his heart beginning to jolt at the sight of his lover’s body: creamy skin, curves, beautiful, hard muscles. But mostly, that look on Richard’s face made him salivate. He blinked the water out of his eyes and just...panted, like the animal he was. "I could hurt you..."

Ignoring him, Richard climbed into the tub and smoothed his hands down Till’s chest, his palms contouring lovingly to the swell of his pecs. Till’s skin was hot and his body radiated musk and male and danger, and Richard wanted him...every bit of Him.

Till plunged his mouth down on Richard’s, capturing it, subduing it as if it were prey, crushing him into an embrace so tight, the guitarist could hardly breathe. And then he withdrew from the kiss and bit into Richard’s neck just this side of breaking the skin and leaving behind pink tooth marks. The taste of his flesh and the moan he released made Him snarl, sent his feral mind into a dizzying spiral of lust and need. He spun Richard around and pinned him against the shower wall before he could protest, two rough fingers between his legs testing for the spot. His first thrust was hard, deep, His hips rapidly pistoning, pounding it into him. And Richard was beyond excited to feel Till taking him...fucking him. This was it. This was what he’d wanted. No sweet gentleness. This was hot and wild and absolutely fantastic.

Grunts and growls filled Richard’s ears as The Beast raged on, His big hands around the smaller hips holding him steady for His powerful thrusts. He had swelled huge inside Richard, crazed by his tight heat, so big, it felt like He was banging into the back of Richard’s throat with every pushpull in and out. Frankly, it hurt, and Richard knew he was gonna be sorry. But he could also feel the beginnings of a spectacular orgasm spangling just out of reach.

"Yeah....yeah baby...more," he muttered, pushing back to impale himself even further.

Till’s scent was all around them, that peculiar odor he only got when very aroused – an odor like chrysanthemums – that not even the rushing water and steam of the shower could extinguish and which told Richard he was also near. Varying the angle slightly, Till knocked Richard into the stratosphere, and if he hadn't been braced up against the tiles, he would've fallen for sure. Richard screamed, almost blacking out from the extreme pleasure. The sound of his voice and those incredible spasms did it. Wrapping both arms around his body, Till pulled him upright and roared out His ecstasy.

Richard regained consciousness on his hands and knees surrounded by the splash of water. He could feel Till licking his back, licking the place he had marked him, soothing and cuddling his head against him. The Beast was gone. Suddenly, there came a pounding on the door. Paul.

"Hurry up in there, would you? And don't use all the fucking hot water!"

Till started laughing. "OK! Out in five minutes!" He helped Richard to his feet and stole kisses while Richard washed away the sweat and grime from Till’s skin with a big soft sponge. It would take another shampoo to get the gunk completely out of his hair, but it was good enough for now.

When the door opened and they emerged redressed, all clean and pretty again, they received an enthusiastic round of applause. It appeared that everyone – the other four guys, Emu, various roadies and techs, Tom and even Skumeck – had been standing at the door listening. Really, though, how could they not have, considering the racket and how well they'd undoubtedly heard it all through the door? Richard blushed but Till had that smirk, that adorable, up-to-no-good smirk that made the guitarist laugh good-naturedly. Keeping their heads held high, they walked out to the waiting limo, and home to Till's apartment. The repeat performance was somewhat more civilized, though no less passionate. And Richard was right. He'd feel it for days.

+++++++++
So why all the frustration? Why bother to hide what everyone knew was going on and had for years? Till just liked it better this way. He liked keeping “Rammstein’s Till” and “Richard’s Till” separate, it wasn’t that he was hiding anything. He was not the sort to care what anyone else thought anyway. But by not indulging constantly, that little added spice from being denied always kept their relationship new and fresh and exciting. And
as a result, he was less inclined to indulge elsewhere.

Richard didn’t question it. It made Till happy and that’s all that was important to him.

Till opened his eyes and slid his sunglasses down on his nose, all the better to glare at Schneider and Paul and their inane giggling.

"What?" he barked grumpily.

"You should see your face!"

"Since when is my face this funny, Paul?"

"When you make it so obvious what you're thinking! Someone's got it bad..."

Schneider could barely squeak it out, he was laughing so hard. "Maybe you'd like to go sit with your lover boy so you can smooch?!"

That did it. Till picked up a magazine and swatted their drummer soundly. Not to be outdone, Paul unbuckled his seat belt and flung himself at the big man, landing in his lap. All three were wrestling of a fashion, and all were beyond hysterical – even Till.

Flake, who had been sitting next to Paul, shook his head and went right on reading. Emu and Richard, seated in the back row, looked at each other and Emu rolled his eyes.

"Boys will be boys..." Richard said with a knowing smirk as Schneider's book sailed past him. A smirk Emu had surely seen before.
- 1
You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.
Report Story

From Bratislava, With Love