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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.

Chapter List
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Title: KAAMOS (A Tale For Grown-up Kids)
Author: Robby a.k.a. Mr Naked
Rating: NC17/AU
Pairing: everyone and then some more
Disclaimer: I was smoking some really good stuff when I came up with this. I don’t own Rammstein and all this is just a fantasy.
Betas: Flowers and thank yous go to Hannelore_K & Ketene

KAAMOS (A Tale For Grown-up Kids)
Part I. The Day The Whole World Went Away
Chapter 2.

I move to the edge of the bed, fighting with the leg that I can’t bend due to the metallic structure around my knee. But I have to go there and to see, even though it’s scaring me so much, melting all my insides and then turning them into ice – that sound of a huge animal - asleep, breathing in, breathing out - just near our window.

To my surprise, I can stand up and walk. So, after all, I’m not completely crippled. I walk slowly, limping, my leg being crossed from time to time by a flash of slight pain, but I get near the wide, opened window, and prop my elbows on the wooden frame.

I am somewhere very, very high, at the last store of a building; down there, like under my feet I see a city fallen asleep, blinking its dim electric lights. I can even spot the tops of the trees, very, very low, down there. And all the streets are empty under the streetlights; the whole town is covered by silence, a silence so still that it seems to have paralyzed the sky with the moon on it.

But I can still hear very clearly, very close, yet pretty far, at the same time, that whooshing sound: inhale, exhale…

I turn my gaze a bit to my left, beyond the tall buildings, and, as I see it, its shape, the claw on my heart squeezes even harder, like trying to stop its, by now, chaotic spasm.

I am telling myself that this is absurd, that I should get a grip on myself, that I’m too mature to react like that, but it’s like something stronger than whatever I might be thinking is making me feel as if I am about to choke, and that I want to run away, screaming in horror, and hide, and, yet, I can’t unglue my glare from it. It’s like I’m hypnotized, frozen in horror, and, at the same time, seduced…

“It’s sleeping now, the fucking thing!” Christoph’s growl near me makes my heart jump inside of me.

I turn to him, alarmed. He’s standing near me, naked, droplets of water shining like rivers of silver on his ivory-like skin. He’s right, it’s so hot here tonight, and it’s not worth it to wipe the water off his body.

“What’s that?” I ask in a dry voice, after I’ve swallowed the knot in my throat.

“That is the Beast, Till,” he says in the gentlest tone, as he stretches out his arm and cups his palm over my jaw to start caressing my face like an understanding mother. “That fucking thing and its servants did this to us. And to you,” he whispers and he kisses me shortly, but sweet, on the lips.

I look at him as he straightens his neck and tilts his head, as if to embrace more of me into his sight.

“What did it do to us?” I murmur, like an idiot, staring at his face and feeling like I am going to lose my mind soon.

Now, in the strong and harsh rays of the moon, I can see him properly; his face with boyish features, his nose - a bit too long, but sharp, his delicate lips, his blue left eye and that dead, nearly white right eye.

“Want a ciggie?” he asks, and lights one before I can answer.

Fuck! He smiles and he looks at me. He sees me, staring at him, stepping back frightened, breathless.

“Here,” he gives me the cig, and I take it out of reflex, fighting with myself to stop staring at him, at his face, at his dead eye.

I can’t though, even if this shiver streaming along my spine foretells something even more frightening about to happen. I throw a glance out the window – its gray shape of straight walls, with no windows and no break into what appears to be concrete, the immense gray towers with opened mouths toward the sky, the white clouds around those mouths, the lights around its massive shape, the Beast.

“It’s asleep and snoring, don’t you hear?” Christoph’s voice resounds so far away from me as I seem to sink deeper into the cold pool of my own fear, into the danger of drowning in it.

I still catch a glimpse of reality, his face as he is realizing that he is wrong. No, it is like that Beast is sending me certain vibes. I freeze, nearly paralyzed for a split of a second before that horrid sound starts to reap my brain. It’s like a plane landing above my head; the noise is so big, threatening to liquefy my insides. I have no more body, thoughts nor feelings; I am only this huge pain, as if something is slowly peeling off the skin from my flesh, inch by inch.

I don’t hear him saying my name, I only see his lips moving, before he grabs me in his arms, squeezes me to his chest, and forces me to bury my face in the nape of his neck. His hands seem to try to cover me, to protect me from that howl and roar that’s driving me insane; he shoves my head more, trying to cover my ears with his arms. And I cling onto him, like that sound would be trying to grab me by my ankles and drag me from here to those infernal mouths of that thing out there, those fire-spitting hungry mouths.

I squeeze my eyes shut, burying myself deeper into his arms. Under my eyelids I see this silhouette – blond guy standing among the ruins, the reflections of flames from a fire near his feet, dancing over his slim frame and over the golden glitters of is long hair. I can’t hear him talking, but I see his lips moving and I know what he is saying – “At one point you will figure it all out. It is all buried in your mind, somewhere.”

Then, this vision of Hell – that thing out there opening thousands of mouths made of cement; I can catch this glimpse: inside those mouths, fires of hell burning, hungry to devour. And this thing out there is feeding itself with millions of human corpses; it is feeding itself on human souls. It is feeding itself on fear, and despair, on everything that is tainted and rotten inside the human heart and mind. It is feeding itself on the sufferings of those that died of exhaustion, hunger and abuses in the Beast’s forced labor camps and demented world. It eats their corpses along with the bodies of those murdered by its henchmen.

“It’s all right, I am here, don’t worry,” my hearing picks the warm and comforting tone of Christoph’s voice. “I won’t let it do anything to you anymore. It can’t reach you,” he goes on, making me realize that infernal howling has stopped. “It probably just had a bad dream,” Christoph keeps trying to calm me down. “It woke up, but now it is going back to sleep.”

I feel my mouth dry, and I am drained and shaking, unable to control myself.

“That was the Beast?” I manage to ask.

Christoph lifts my head gently to look at me for few seconds. Somehow, this time, the sight of his dead eye doesn’t frighten me anymore.

“Till?” He asks, cautious.

“Yes?” I reply, straightening my back.

He hesitates before speaking again.

“Yes, that was the Beast. Do you know who am I?”

“You’re Christoph. Did I lose my memory or something? That’s why you’re acting like that?” I ask, growing irritated by this whole situation.

He only steps back, lifts his forearm and licks a spot on his skin.

“What happened?” I ask.

“Your cig burnt me,” he explains.

“Oh, sorry,” I say taking his hand and stretching his arm to take a look at that spot.

“It’s okay,” he whispers as I slowly caress the skin of his forearm with the tips of my fingers.

I feel his entire being wincing under my touch, all the tiny hairs on his skin rising. I look at his face; he is smiling, so soothing and so comforting, and it is somehow melting away that claw clutch over my heart. But I need to know; my mind is blank, unbearably blank.

“How did that thing fuck up my knee, I don’t get it,” I say.

“If it were only your knee,” he sighs, walks over to the bed and sits on its edge.

“It fucked up my mind too?” I ask limping my way to the bed too, to sit near Christoph.

“Uh, huh,” he emits, and lies in the bed.

I reach out my hand and start caressing along his arm with the tips of my fingers. It’s so hot that even touching feels so painful.

“And your eye?” I ask.

“And my eye,” he confirms reclining better on his back.

“I’m sorry,” I whisper and I realize it only after I’ve done it – I lean over him and place a kiss on each of his eyelids.

“It isn’t your fault,” his lips move voiceless under mine.

I lean above him, as my hand travels to his hipbone, to caress it, and to squeeze his ass before moving downward, along his thigh.

“Ironically, if it wouldn’t have happened, I don’t think I would have been here with you, in your bed, like this,” he whispers to the ceiling as I’m kissing his neck and moving down, onto his collar bone and chest. “But, if it were for me to decide, I would have chosen for you to be with your family and happy, even if that would mean for me not to be with you.”

And he keeps talking as I kiss his flat abdomen and then place my lips over his now erect cock. His legs move slightly, smooth thigh rubbing against smooth thigh, his skin glowing in the blue-silver light. His voice and words transform into guttural panting, as I’m licking harder around that stiffened flesh. I cup my lips around the tip of his cock; my tongue licks it, teasing the slit. His hands tugging at my hair, his fibers tensing, tell me that I am doing exactly the right thing, and that he loves it. And I love it too, his flavor and his scent, the taste of him pouring on my tongue and in my throat as he cums.
Then I rise to his level and lay in bed beside him.

“I didn’t know you could do that,” he laughs quietly, turning on his side and looking at me.

Strands of his hair are wet and stuck at his temples; I lift my hand and push them away.

“Ok, let’s go to sleep. Big day tomorrow,” he decides, and embraces my torso, snuggling against my chest in spite of this heat. My own skin is burning.

“Ok,” I whisper, place a kiss over his hair, wet with sweat, and grab the opportunity to inhale its damp and warm scent.

It is stillness again, and silence, except that sound of the Beast sleeping outside. Inhale, exhale…

Christoph’s breathing is becoming regulated too; he must be falling asleep. Good that he can; this heat, and this feeling of restlessness inside my soul are keeping me wide-awake. No, I can’t sleep while that thing is out there, and it can grab me any time. No, I can’t sleep, especially now, when he isn’t awake to foresee any peril and to protect me. He is sinking into his sleep, leaving me here, in this place with…

“Till?”

He sleepily grumbles against the bare skin of my chest.

“Uh?” I emit like I’m shaken from my sleep.

“Stop doing that,” he mumbles like through sleep.

“What?” I ask, and move a bit.

My skin feels like it is boiling in its sweat on the parts where his arm, body and face press against my torso.

“Just try to sleep, we are safe for now, and I am still here with you. I wouldn’t leave you for anything,” he mumbles in the same voice and shifts a bit into my embrace.

“Okay,” I mutter, knowing that, unfortunately, the stupid and irrational fear is still there. That feeling of being abandoned, that makes your eyes stingy, forcing you to squint and clench your jaws to swallow your anger and bitterness.

“I mean it Till,” I hear him again after few minutes.

“I know,” I mutter and again kiss his damp hair while I sense him sinking in his sleep, leaving me here with my fear and my confusion, the moon shining like a sun outside and that thing – the Beast – sleeping and breathing rhythmically, inhale, exhale…

“It is in you, somewhere buried in your mind,” I hear the words again.

I open up my eyes again, frightened.

No, I can’t sleep, I decide. I sneak out of the bed, clumsy, making too much noise for trying not to wake Christoph as I’m fighting with my crippled leg. I wander around the room, touching the furniture until I find something that could be my pants. I put them on, a real struggle. Then I pick the cigarette pack from the nightstand and light one.

Christoph appears to be sound asleep, his bare skin looking like silver silk glowing dimly in the moonlight. He rolls onto his other side, but he doesn’t wake up.

I remain motionless, watching, bewitched, the lines of his muscles around his spine on his bare back, the shape of his leg bent over all the sheets tucked under his knee. No wonder I’m his lover in this world.

There’s another door, opposite to the one to the bathroom. I walk over to it, and open it. I can’t see much, more like a hall sunk in darkness, only a thin yellow line on the floor that I figure must be the electric light turned on in another room.

I close the door to our room behind me and I sink slowly, limping, into the darkness.

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