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Undercurrent (Part 1 of 2)	By : Cyndiana Category: Singers/Bands/Musicians > Rammstein Views: 1411 -:- 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-Undercurrent (Part 1 of 2)
- 2-Undercurrent (Part 2 of 2)
- 1
- 2
Title: Undercurrent PART 2/2
Author: Cyndiana
Rating: NC-17 for the GRAPHIC depiction of M/M sexuality, rape/violence and language.
Archive: A Feather in the Blood (http://groups.yahoo.com/group/afeatherintheblood/)
Pairing: Paul/Schneider, Paul/Richard
Synopsis: Schneider gives up that which he loves most to ensure Paul’s safety!
Disclaimer: Don’t own Rammstein, wouldn’t be writing this shit if I did….Not for profit, is a work of fiction, yada yada bing bang BOOM.
Author’s Note: I call this story “Undercurrent” because there’s an undercurrent to it in the form of a hidden message…Can you find it?
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D is for Divinity

He is here! In my arms! My heart’s desire is kissing me, tearing at my clothes. We speak no words, make no explanations. Our lips and tongues and fingers speak in our stead. I could care fucking less about machismo or facades…Right now all I want is myself inside of him, and he in me, and we as one, an entity with no beginning or end…He sucks me hungrily, and I close my eyes letting the sensation overtake me…He fingers me as he drains me dry of every drop of lust I can give him, drinking me like wine. And for him, I offer the same…His semen a cocktail of salt and heat and longing, longing like mine. Then, as I fuck him, I worship his body…Going slow and steady and gentle, I want to make him feel adored, not abused, as Richard did. His moans sanctify me as I climax, transported to a plane of ecstasy I never knew existed that wasn’t chemical. He then enters me, making love to me as I had him, and all at once I feel salty drops of my own desperation flooding from my eyes. How could I have denied myself such unprofaned joy? What we shared now was pure, sacred, divine…

A is for Absolution

We lay beside one another, mystified from the ordeal…had we really…? Was this real? Was I going to wake up in my small apartment as alone as ever, or had I really done what I’d longed to for so…? I feel his soft kisses on my neck as he awakes…were my thoughts so loud? I know that no one could ever know…Richard would hurt him, and the others would ridicule us, but I’m happy to keep our passions concealed. As far as I’m concerned, I want to share him with no one. He kisses me, and I can still taste myself on his lips. In his kisses I have found my absolution…

M is for MURDER

I see Paul leaving in the wee hours of morning…He must have thought I was asleep. So, he’s had me, now it’s over. He’s not getting away so fucking easily! His cell phone rang, and I only heard his side of the conversation, but I knew well who was on the other end…

“Yes? I took a walk…No, I’m not…I’m sure he’s with some whore, snorting cocaine off her tits…What did you do? WHAT DID YOU DO? What do you need me for? Tell me what you did and…You’re scaring me…Yes, I’ll be there in a few moments…”

He sounded desperate, scared….I followed him, careful not to let him see me. He stopped his car at the end of a dark alley. He walked down it, and I followed close behind. He knocked in Morse code on a foreboding iron door. I used to be in the military, so I knew the code well…He had rapped out, ”Love is Damnation…”

He was let in, and a few moments after the door closed, I did the same. He walked through a room of people whipping and tearing at each other as if their passions could only be expressed through acts of extreme agony and violence…Is this what he was into? He got to a room at the end of a dark hallway ringing with screams and bad Scandinavian metal music, the kind that might serve as a soundtrack to a Faces of Death film…He went in, and standing silently by the door, I peered in, carefully…I heard him gasp fearfully.

“Richard! What happened?!”
“My plaything gave out on me…”

I saw Richard sitting at a table, spinning a ghastly, bloodied dagger on it… I carefully adjusted my line of vision so I could see a bed dressed in burgundy velvet and black satin sheets. Lying on it was a young man, his delicate form bloodstained and pallid from death.

“I caught him with someone else, and he had to pay. He was my plaything first.”

Richard’s words chilled me.

“Richard, you murdered him!” Paul shrieked helplessly.
“You call it murder, I call it justice, now, help me get rid of him!”

N is for Nightmare

This can’t be happening….This can’t be real…I help Richard dispose of the body, and I hope this is all a bad dream, a horrible nightmare. I want to wake up in Schneider’s arms, knowing that I am safe, and all is right with my world. Richard and I stand at the foot of a shallow grave. I await his command to return the earth to its place over the young boy’s body, but it never comes. Only the cold, evil glare of his eyes.

“In!” he hisses.
I stand, too scared to move.
“Get in!”
He throws me in, and I lay upon the corpse.
I plead, “Richard please!!! Don’t do this!”
“You betrayed me, and now you pay!”

I try to escape, but to no avail. He strikes my head with his massive fist, and all goes black. When I awake, my body is held fast, buried to my neck. Richard kisses me, then stands over me.

“You were mine, Paul…Mine…You belonged to me, and you betrayed me…I almost could have loved you…Oh well…”

He shoveled the soil over my face and I screamed to no avail…He would get his vengeance…I could only imagine what vengeance he would exact on Christoph once my last gasps were done…

A is for Awaken

Paul screamed like a dying rabbit, great desperate screams. Had he had the same dream as I? I hold him close.

“Paul, PAUL! It was a dream, it was only a dream….”

He awakes, slick with sweat, heart thumping to capacity with terror. I hold him, and kiss him, and try my best to soothe him. He sobs helplessly.

“It was horrible, Christoph…”
“I know, but it’s over now…”

It was horrible…and the realization hits me fully…Richard will never let me have him. He IS Richard’s plaything, and Richard has never been amenable to sharing ANYTHING. I know I must do something, something to protect him. I must sacrifice all to make sure Paul is never hurt, that he is forever safe from harm…

T is for Truth

I long to tell Christoph about my dream. He asks me what it was about, but I refuse to tell him, saying I can’t remember it all, but I remember it all to well. My head was warning me of what my heart hid from me. Richard would never stand idly by and let Christoph take me from him. In his mind, I WAS a plaything, and I BELONGED to him…I couldn’t do anything without his explicit permission. I knew the truth, that Christoph would never be mine.

I is for Immolation

I now avoid Paul at all costs. I won’t even look at him anymore. When we perform, I gaze out into the crowd, losing myself among the sea of adoring eyes. I hope their adoration can ease this immolation, this sacrifice I make…the sacrifice I make for my angel. I long to take him away, somewhere where we’ll never be found. Somewhere that Richard’s wrath could never reach. Then, I snort another line and hope it all fades away…I lose myself in the kisses of groupies and whores. I fuck them, killing my own soul as the fee for Paul’s safety. Richard will never harm him if he belongs to him and him alone…I turn to the groupie whore at my side…She slumbers peacefully…I reach into my pocket and pull out the cheap silver band I bought at the pawn shop down the street. I’m going to make her wildest dreams come true while dealing the fatal blow to my own.

O is for Over

Christoph walked backstage after the show with HER. Where did she come from? Who the fuck WAS she? And why was she wearing his ring on her finger? Their marriage was a solemn and modest ceremony before a magistrate. The world could see he doesn’t love her. Hell, even she knows it. She just stands at his side like an obedient pet, his little accessory. It kept Richard convinced, however, that whatever Christoph and I MAY have had was clearly over, but it was only in the physical sense. My heart would always long for him as Richard ravaged me nightly, punishing me for his own desires. I suppose Christoph decided a life without me was more bearable than a life without him was for me…

N is for NEVER

Never will I get over him. Never will her kisses warm my frozen heart. Never will my heart stop longing for him. But, all I can hope is that he is safe from Richard’s anger. As I lay awake in bed, my back to her, I wonder to myself if this pain will ever subside. If this aching in the depths of me will ever fade away in my cocaine-coated, mundane existence…NEVER.

Did you get the message? I knew you would... ^^
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Undercurrent (Part 1 of 2)