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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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I found Till in the bar down the street, not morosely hunched over a bottle, as I might have expected, but at a table playing pool. And he had drawn a crowd. No surprise there. Big ones, little ones, old ones, young ones – women of every description always came running when Till was around. Why wouldn’t they? Simply put, he was an alpha male – prime meat on the hoof – and all the girlies wanted it. And at the moment, I guess that included me too, considering the outfit I’d just changed out of. Haha. Good one, Frau Schneider.

But this time, Till wasn’t paying attention to any of his cooing flock, was dispiritedly banging the balls around on the green felt, seemingly just as unconcerned if he sank any or not. It was his way of letting off steam, I realized, and the fact that the women – some of whom were quite attractive and could’ve been potential companions for the evening – were not of interest, gave me a clue that our vocalist was still as upset as he’d been in the dressing room after the shoot. I ordered us two beers and hurried over, trying to be nonchalant when my heart was actually hammering in my chest. The earlier wank had helped to calm me a little, but now, seeing Till again, knowing how much might be at stake, made me excited and anxious, all at the same time.

“Schneider,” he said when he saw me, his voice a deep rumble that I felt as well as heard, “where’s your dress?”
“Oh funny, Till.”

Some of the women were eyeing me curiously, and a couple who had started to drift over stopped in their tracks. They had that look of deer poised to flee, their noses up and sniffing the air, delicate limbs bent in ready wariness. Stand down, ladies, I’m no slouch, I admit – I get my fair share of female admirers – but it’s not doe I’m after tonight, but buck. A big six-pointer, as a matter of fact.

I could’ve made a snappy comeback, something like, “Where’s your strap-on?” but wisely chose not to follow up that particular line of teasing repartee. Instead, I lifted the two bottles to show Till I had brought friends of my own to the party. “Let’s go sit down,” I urged.

Downing the rest of his own beer, he smiled at the little blonde standing next to him and gave her his pool cue, indicating she could finish his game if she wished, and followed me through the smoke to an empty table in a quieter corner of the bar. Man, their disappointment was literally a scent, it was so palpable. But I was buzzing. I could feel little electrical charges running back and forth pell mell under my skin. Cool. Be cool, I reminded myself. This’ not gonna be easy.

The lamp, a green glass shade hiding a bare bulb, hung from a wire over the table and threw a harsh circle of light that did Till’s face no favors. The shadows outlined every scar, the lines around his eyes, the look of skin well lived-in. It’s odd – Till had had those lines for probably as long as I knew him. He had always had an air of quiet world- weariness about him, even as a young man. And now it had built up in layers like some sort of bitter onion just waiting for someone to come along and strip. Someone – I hoped – like me.

“You OK?” I asked casually, studying his big hand grasping the beer bottle. His lips quirked into a familiar half-grin that I knew from previous experience was the signal for a sarcastic retort. This time, though, the threat of the smirk was empty and it quickly dropped away, revealing Till’s vulnerability that he was allowing me to see.
“I...” he began, and gave his head a rueful shake, “I don’t know how I am. Maybe a better statement is, ‘I don’t know who I am.’”

I took a drink, hoping my trembling hands weren’t too obvious. “That bad?”
“It is when you define yourself by your sexuality, only to find out that the whole thing has been a fucking lie.”
“But aren’t you so much more than that – a...a poet, a father, a...?”
“Doch nur ein Tier, Schneider. That’s all we all are, when you strip away the bullshit.”
“So if that’s so, why does it have to be an either/or proposition? Get over it, Till,” I blurted, angry at his cynicism, “nothing is that black or that white. And you, of all people, should know that. You, who could find compassionate words for a cannibal, should have some for yourself.” Oh great. There I go, putting my big feet in my mouth for a change. But Till knocking himself down yet again was more than I had the stomach to handle.

He said nothing for a moment, that flesh-stripping gaze of his boring right into my own eyes. I swallowed and leaned back a little to get further away from it.
“What, Schneider?” he asked softly, sounding like a hurt child, “you can only feel for me when you’re wearing a dress?”
“No – I just want you to see what pretentious crap this is. Yes, we are sexual animals, but that isn’t even the beginning of who we are. A man – a real man – doesn’t define himself by how many chicks he’s nailed, I don’t, and I don’t think you do either. So stop the act. What are you really so fucking afraid of? Since when do you even remotely care what anyone else thinks of you? So maybe you’re attracted to men too. Big deal.”

Direct and to the point. I thought Till would appreciate that. Instead, he seemed to withdraw into himself, nervously picking at the label on the beer bottle and no longer meeting my eyes. Shit. How had this taken a wrong turn so fast? I was gonna play it cool, remember? Reel him gently into the boat. So what did I do? Jump in and rip up one side and down the other. Great work, asshat. I mentally kicked myself over and over. Hard. That is, until he turned the tables on me.

“Well, what if I were to tell you that it’s not ‘men’ I’m attracted to...but man. That I have been for years, and that....” He stopped suddenly, his mouth a moue of distress. He obviously hadn’t intended to say this, my badgering must’ve made it just slip out. No wonder he couldn’t look at me now...he...he felt...oh my god, I was shaking suddenly. Was it possible? Did Till care for me too? Sure – moving our relationship on to another level would change everything. However, I was willing to take that risk.

“I said in the dressing room that maybe I had been repressing these feelings for a long time and that I wasn’t sure, but that’s not true – I know I have been.” He ran a weary hand through his floppy black forelock, blinking from the sear of smoke.

Now. Now was the time for my own confession. “Till,” I said, smiling at him, and admiring the lines of his broad shoulders that I would soon be caressing if it all worked out as I hoped, “you have to know that Frau Schneider wasn’t just an excuse to put on a dress and makeup. That...”

“And don’t you think that’s precisely why I’m telling *you* this?” he interrupted, smiling too, his big green eyes crinkling at the corners. He looked so handsome when he smiled like this It made me want to jump across the table into his lap.

“I guess as close as we’ve been, there are no hiding some things.”

“Did you always know?”

“You mean, that I fancied men too? It was like you said – it was more about ‘man’, than ‘men’, and maybe now I’ll be able to tell him how I feel.”

But Till was just beaming, wasn’t he? I don’t think I’d seen his face lit with this much joy in...well...maybe ever. Or so it seemed to me. “Oh, Schneider,” he said, reaching across the table and squeezing one of my hands, “I’m so happy for you!”

“For us, Till. Be happy for both of us.”

At that, his expression became coy and almost flirtatious. I swallowed hard, my mind going to places I’d only allowed it in private. Oh sweet lord, the things I’m gonna do to you. “Yes. For both of us...only...how will I tell him?”

“How will you tell him? Oh, I think he already knows.”

“Really? You think Richard knows?”

Ri...wha...? It was as though I could hear the broken bits of atria and ventricle go whooshing through my blood vessels, for surely this pain in my chest could only have been my heart exploding. I think I stopped breathing for a moment. Richard. He’d said Richard. Not...not me. And now liberated from all the guilt and confusion he’d no doubt been carrying for years, he chirped away like a little lovebird. Richard was so talented. And Richard was so sexy. And Richard...

I hardly heard it. My face flamed purple with embarrassment. Oh how could I have been so stupid? “Uh, Till, I need to go to the john – you know how beer goes right through me,” I tried to joke, getting up and moving off before he could say anything. Particularly not another paean to Richard. It was bad enough that what I’d already heard made me sick to my stomach.

I didn’t vomit, in the end, but I clutched at my sore belly, willing it to empty. I’ll stick my fingers down my throat if I have to, I thought, kneeling on the tiled floor before the white commode. Anything, anything to get rid of the bile I could taste in my mouth, the utter awful pang of loss and disappointment. Richard. Oh no – anyone but Richard. Didn’t he already have it all? Looks, personality, a great ass...oh shit...and now he would have my Till too. There was not a shred of justice in this world, I was convinced of it.

Suddenly, I heard the door opening and my name being called. Till. What the fuck was he doing in here? His step was light, he was quick and graceful for a man his size, and I shuddered to see his booted feet appear in the opening under the stall door.

“Schneider – you’ve been in there for ten minutes – are you alright?”

He’d come to check on me, concerned. Couldn’t you just let me jump in and drown, you big dumb fuck?

“-- are you sick?”

Leave it to Papa Bear to get all paternal at a time like this. Especially when he’d just unwittingly broken my heart – I didn’t want him to be nice to me. I simply wanted him to go away and leave me in pieces on the floor...literally.

“Chris,” he said softly, knocking at the closed door. He could peer right over the top if he’d wanted to but he was trying to give me my privacy. Nice of you to be so considerate, you bastard. “Chris, what’s wrong?”

Knowing I couldn’t hide any longer, I got back to my feet and flushed the toilet, pushing open the door and walking past Till to the sink to wash my hands. I reschooled my features to be calm and resolute, to not show my true feelings.

“Just a little upset stomach,” I answered casually. “Must’ve been something I ate earlier. But you know – I’ve reconsidered -- I don’t think I can tell him after all.”

“Oh god, are you sure? Whoever he is, I can’t imagine anyone not wanting a great guy like you.”

“Some things just aren’t meant to be.”

“You know best, I’m sure. Anyway, did you want to talk some more -- we could go to my place and....”

Lieber gott, no. Not to Till’s. I couldn’t bear it. “No. It’s late and it’s been a long day,” I said. “Just wanna go home, I think.”

“OK. I’ll pay the bill and get us a taxi...I’ll meet you out front.”

I watched him leave and didn’t breathe again until he did. My heartbeat was so loud in the empty room, I could swear I heard it echoing off the tiled walls. Till was a good friend. At least I hadn’t lost that too.

I looked at my face in the mirror, thinking: Richard, you little bitch. If you dare mistreat him, you’re going to have Frau Schneider to answer to, and you can count on getting one of my stiletto heels through your windpipe, buddy boy. I’m warning you.
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