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Chapter 1, Anger	By : FetishinChains Category: Singers/Bands/Musicians > Rammstein Views: 1883 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: Disclaimer: This is purely a work of fiction! I do not know Rammstein, and I do not profit from these writings. And unfortunatly none of this ever happened....

Chapter List
- 1-Chapter 1, Anger
- 2-Chapter 2
- 1
- 2
Title: Anger
Author: LydiaTrueblood
Fandom: Rammstein
Rating: NC-17
Warning: Language, violence, slash
Characters: Till, Richard
Status: in progress
Chapters: 2
Summary: Till acts moody

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Till stood there confused for a moment. What the fuck is going on? The last thing he remembered was seeing Richard at the door, then the adrenalin level in his blood rose to the point where it felt like his blood was boiling, every limb in his body was trembling with too much energy and he was filled with the wonderful feeling of power and invincibility. Then it all went red. Next thing he knows he is standing here, Kruspe wrapped around his waist kissing him.

He pulled his head back, away from the kiss and loosened his grip around Richard's arms.
“What the hell?!” Till said, trying to shake Kruspe off. “Get the fuck of me you shithead!” Richard looked hesitantly into Till’s eyes for a bit, before loosening his grip around Till and jumping down.
“I’m sorry Till, but I didn’t know what else to do trying to avoid being beaten to death by a raving lunatic!” Till just glared at Richard, turned around and started walking back towards the house.
“Damn it Till! We need to talk! I know it wasn’t right of me to out you like that, and I really am sorry. But haven’t you punished me enough already? My head hurt like hell and I probably won’t be able to see through my left eye once the swelling on my cheek reaches its peak.”

Till just kept walking towards the house, completely ignoring him. Richard moistened his lips with his tongue. He was suprised by the taste, it was slightly salty and… good, it tasted of Till.
“Come on Till, talk to me. I know you want your privacy, but thanks to you I’m going to look horrible at the TV interview tomorrow. I’ll say we’re more than even!” Till reached the front door of his house and turned around at the entrance.
“Two wrongs don’t make a right Rich. Give me some time to think and calm down. Then I’ll call you when I’m ready.”
“But Till, I’ve driven forever to get here!” Kruspe protested.
“You’re mistake, my terms.” Till said and closed the door.

Richard angrily got back into his car and slammed the door shut. That stubborn moron! Sometimes he’s just like an overgrown 3-year old! Richard started the car and drove off.

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Till stood by the window and saw Richards car pulling out of the driveway. Fuck! Till knew he had overreacted by attacking Kruspe. He had just gotten there at the worst possible time. Till had spent the last day and a half digging into the darkest corners of his soul, finding inspiration for new lyrics. That process always made him edgy, and when he finally emerged back into the real world, Flakes email about Richards latest interview just threw him into frenzy.

Till was a private person. He felt uncomfortable being stared at, liked the peace and quiet out here far away from the big cities, and though people from the media always asked the same stupid questions that he would not or could not answer. Richard on the other hand loved the busy life, big cities, fame, the attention from fans and the media. And this time Kruspe had been asked about Till, about his children and relationships, and Kruspe had opened his big mouth. Given away private information about Till’s life, some of it wasn’t even true, just Richards own assumptions.

But at the moment this wasn’t the main thing on Till’s mind. The rush of old feelings being brought back to life by a simple kiss was. Feelings he had buried a long time ago, and had thought were dead by now. Had his decision to not risk their friendship by talking about it to Richard back then, been a mistake? Or was this kiss meaningless to Kruspe, just a desperate act as he claimed? Fuck, I really need to sort out my thoughts before I call him back.

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Richard were driving fast, heading towards Hamburg where tomorrows interview was taking place. He had a few hours of driving ahead of him. The sun came out between the clouds and stung his eyes. Kruspe fished the sunglasses out of his pocket and put them on. The sudden pain from the sunglasses touching the bruise made him clinch, the car turned off the road and into the field beside the road. Richard quickly got back control of the car and managed to get it back onto the road where he pulled over.

“Shit! That was close!” he bursted out, taking a few deep breaths feeling the panic leaving his body. He removed the sunglasses and looked himself in the mirror. His left eye was almost covered by the swollen purple skin under it. The small crack of eye still showing was bloodshot. God, I look like shit! I can’t be seen on TV looking like this, no amount of make-up can cover this up. I’ll have to get the interview postponed. Richard head was hurting even worse now after the panicking, and he decided to just drive to the nearest town and take in on the bed and breakfast there.

Once Kruspe got to his room he closed the curtains, turned of the lights and lay down on the bed to relax. He had barely laid his head on the pillow before drifting off into sleep.

Richard awoke by his cell phone ringing, he answered drowsily, noticing he was all sweaty and having the hard-on of the year. It was Till.
“Hey Rich. I’m ready to sort things out now. But I don’t want to do it over the phone. You in Hamburg?” Till sounded a bit strange, but Kruspe couldn’t put his finger on what it was.
“No, I couldn’t drive that far in the state you put me in. So I got a room at the B&B in the small town south of your place. What time is it now anyway?” It was quiet in the other end for a short while before he heard Till draw his breath.
“It’s 5.30 pm. I can be there in an hour, unless you want to wait till tomorrow.
“An hour will be fine if you bring some aspirin.”
“Sure, see you soon then.” Kruspe hung up. God his head hurt. Actually they both did. He pulled open his zipper and freed his cock from his pants. It was rock hard, and the head was purple and glancing with precum. He started stroking it. What the hell did I dream about? He tried to remember while stroking faster. Till! Yes, Till was there, in my dream!

They were back in Till’s courtyard struggling. Kruspe leaned in for the kiss and Till eagerly kissed back. Opening his mouth, letting Richard's tongue in to explore and taste. Till’s arms moved over to Richard's chest, grabbing a hold of his shirt and ripping it open. Till’s lips moved down Richard's neck, nibbling, kissing, licking. Kruspe lifted Till’s sweater over his head, uncovering the magnificent broad chest of his. Till’s hands were trying to open Richard's pants, so Kruspe let go of Till with his legs and stood down on the ground. Till dropped to his knees, opened Kruspe's pants and sucked his cock into his mouth staring up at him.

With that image on his mind Richard came, shooting his cum all over his shirt. He stayed in that position for a moment, breathing hard and enjoying the aftershocks of the orgasm. God, I must have hit my head harder than I thought. Better clean myself up before Till gets here.
“If he knew this, he’d probably beat me to a freaking puddle.” Richard chuckled to himself.
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Chapter 1, Anger