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Regen (Rain)	By : maybebaby Category: Singers/Bands/Musicians > Rammstein Views: 2556 -:- 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.

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Title: Regen (Rain) 22/28
Author: akasha6
Writer for this particular chapter: Mr Naked
Translation: lisa_thecat
Rating: NC 17
Pairing: Till/Richard, Richard/Christoph, Christoph/Paul, Till/Gert
Disclaimer: None of this is true, it's all work of fiction.
Warning: This story contains imagery and ideas that some might find gory, immoral and possibly offending. (violence, BDSM, non-consensual sex, incest)

The author would like to thank Mr Naked for the wonderful job he did as a beta and co-writer and to lisa_thecat for the translation.

Chapter 22

Darkness. Silence. The feeling of slowly going crazy. Wandering through a world of pain and tears. Richard had closed himself in his room. He didn’t want to see anyone.

Somewhere in the back of his mind, that part of his brain that kept the connection with the outer world registered that there were three months since Till went back to his house, to his father. Three months that seemed like an eternity to Richard. An entire life.

Oh, God, if you are out there, save your angel, send your warrior to that hell to fight for this innocent soul. To fight for this lost love.

They had so little time.

Richard was lying on the bed and staring at the ceiling. It was all he has been doing, for weeks.

Why did Till do this to him? A part of Richard knew that Till didn’t actually mean what he said back then. But… had it all been a big lie? How could he be so mistaken about someone?

There was this part of his mind that kept replaying for him, over and over again, the scene with the last words Till said to him, before leaving: “It has been nice with you.” And then, Richard recalled, he threw him this look – so stern, so empty of any expression, so opaque. Indifference? It had all been just a game. Till only played with him.

Desperate, Richard sighed and squeezed a pillow in his arms. He wished he were dead. Closing his eyes, he had this vision of himself, dead, oblivious to everything that meant this world. He would be this motionless corpse, with pale skin, he wouldn’t have any memories to torment him, and no doubts about anything either.

Did he really mean it or was he just trying to protect him?

Without Till, nothing in this world had any sense. Absolutely no sense at all!

Richard felt as if all his capacity to love, to even feel compassion and affection, everything was gone. His heart felt like the empty and fragile shell of an egg from which all the contents been sucked out. His brain was drained of the ability to have emotions. He couldn’t even feel anger, that kind of anger that makes one go and fight for what is his. Only from time to time his eyes stung a bit and then these streams of tears were running over his face. He didn’t even bother to wipe them off his face, even if they made his skin feel ticklish.

No, Till couldn’t have meant that. Yet, how much did he really know about that man? That man brought him to that house of horrors, and… Angry, Richard threw the pillow in the opposite corner of the room.

If he closed his eyes, he could still hear the way Till’s voice sounded. He could still smell his scent, even if it was long gone.

Everyone in that house was a crackpot. Why would Till be different? He was his father’s son, after all.

Richard stood up slowly, but then this throbbing headache started instantly. He let himself lay down again, with a sigh. He was thirsty. He had to drink something. His lips were dry and chapped. Till’s lips were so soft, his kisses so sweet, so deep and wet.

“I am going nuts, I’m slowly going crazy,” Richard told himself quietly.

The thought of Till being with Gert, the image of Gert’s hands on his lover’s body flashed painfully through his mind and felt worse than a blow to the head.

“Gert knows what I need.”

What if it was true? What if Till was indeed into all that BDSM shit? Chains, whips, pain and beatings – maybe Till enjoyed being a sub and having Gert as his master.

No way! The man that stayed with him in bed that night and that day, that man that tried to protect him while they both were in that house of horrors, that man knew how to be so tender, so gentle and full of love.

Love? Yes, it was love.

He felt it.

Richard sat up again, on the bed.

And for a true love, one should fight. He wouldn’t give Till up so easily. No way. He would go to that house again and Till would have to tell him in the presence of Gert that it all had been just a lie. He would look him in the eyes, those wonderful deep-blue eyes, and Till would say: “It was a mistake…” and then he would go. He would leave him in peace. Forever!

Richard stood up. In the first second he closed his eyes, as a reflex to that veil of darkness that flooded his sight. He inhaled deeply, and opened his eyes. That hammering pain was pounding between the walls of his skull, but he ignored it.

He had to do something. He had to get out. It was the end of February and soon the spring would come. The sun would shine. Richard wished he could go with Till somewhere in the sun. On a beach…

He listened to the noises coming from outside his room. Rain. Every day. There hadn’t been any snow this winter. Only rain.

What day of the week was it? Richard didn’t know. He hadn’t let anybody in for weeks. He hadn’t reacted to Christoph’s desperate knocks on the door, either.

He walked slowly to the window and pushed the curtain aside. After his eyes got accustomed with the bright light from outside, he looked up, to the skies covered by gray clouds. No sign of change too soon.

Richard turned and walked to the small bathroom. He switched on the light and remained in the threshold of the bathroom door, as he was staring at his own image in the mirror. His head was still throbbing with that headache.

“Oh, fuck, look at me!” he murmured.

He hadn’t shaved since God knew when. He had those black circles around his eyes; not getting out of his room didn’t mean he’d had much sleep. His hair had grown as well, and hung unruly. He wore that t-shirt and those jeans – now they smelled. The jeans were too large at the hips – he seemed to have lost a lot of weight. He looked worse than in those days when he’d gone on his cocaine binges.

He hadn’t thought of eating in the last weeks. Luckily Christoph did think about it and had a servant bringing him food and leaving it in front of the door.

“Ok, Richard. Make yourself pretty for your lover and take him back!” He whispered to his mirror reflection and brushed away the hair strands that kept falling over his eyes. “I’m coming Till! We’ll see if you have the guts to tell me that you don’t love me!”

*

“You can’t help him. The best you can do is let him pull himself out of this,” Paul whispered, and kissed Christoph tenderly on the right temple. It was 2 in the morning and they were lying in bed, awake for hours. They couldn’t find any peace or rest.

“He can’t do it by himself, Paul. Please, let me go to him. Don’t be upset. I love you, but Richard needs me now. He is my brother.” Christoph took Paul’s hand and lifted it to his lips. “Please.”

“Your brother…” Paul’s voice sounded bitter. “Exactly, Christoph. He is your brother. I have often wondered, why do you behave like this?”

“Like what?” Christoph squinted at him.

“Like a betrayed lover or something like that.”

Paul turned and looked outside the window. It was so dark. Rain clouds covered the sky. Soft and steady, the sounds of rain entered the room through the open window.

“He won’t let you in. He hadn’t let you in the last week, either, get over it!” Paul added with the same thick bitterness in his tone.

Paul usually refrained from reproaching anything, especially to Christoph. But he felt like enough was enough. Christoph behaved like a jealous lover. It was as if for him only one man existed in this world – Richard. Always Richard. They were brothers, for God’s sake! Then, why all this? Why did Christoph behave as if Richard was dying or something?

Christoph sighed, moving closer to Paul, and put his arm over his shoulder.

“Hey,” he whispered and kissed him softly on the neck. “Nothing can part us. But Richard is… he is something different for me.”

Paul’s heart beat like mad.

“What is he for you then?” His murmur poured through the silence.

Christoph’s hand moved along Paul’s arm, in a slow caress. Then it moved over his hip, going over the thigh.

“You obviously love him,” Paul said, when he couldn’t stand the silence any longer.

He rolled on his other side, to face Christoph, but the darkness between them was too thick for him to see anything.

“There’s love and there’s love, Christoph,” he added and stretched out his hand to touch his lover.

Instead of anger, Paul felt only this sadness, this bitter taste in his mouth as he got more and more the certitude that he would always come second for Christoph. He realized by now that he couldn’t have Christoph only for himself, that he would always have to share him with his brother, that Richard would always be between them.

“Your love for him has long gone over the limits of simple brotherly love,” Paul whispered, almost choking on the words.

He had something to say and he knew he was going to say it.

When Richard disappeared, he understood Christoph’s reaction – worried, restless, determined to go to the end of the world in search for his brother. When Richard was found, Christoph calmed down a little. Paul could enjoy his company, but these moments were pretty short, since Christoph had to go to the hospital where they kept his brother in that induced coma, and then, when they brought Richard home, Christoph would do what he would do, and snuck into his brother’s room, to watch him and to hold his hand, as Richard was unconscious.

Paul understood that, or, rather, he forced himself to accept that, even though, a part of him was thinking that he was Paul, he was his lover, he had to get attention and affection too. Christoph spent too much time with his brother, neglecting his lover, though.

“Christoph, what’s between you and Richard?” Paul asked directly, seeing that otherwise he wouldn’t get any answer.

The man lying in bed, in darkness, beside him sighed loudly and shifted his position.

Paul’s hand retreated. He only wanted an answer. An explanation of what was really going on. He knew he could accept a lot, but he hated to be lied to and taken for a fool.

“Well, then I’ll tell you what I think,” he said suddenly and turned on his back, putting his hands under his head. “I think that you and Richard are lovers. I think you’ve slept with him.”

Paul held his breath. He couldn’t believe that he actually said it. But it was indeed what he thought.

When Richard woke up from the coma and got back to the real world, things got a bit better. Christoph was finally relaxed, and spent more time with him. With Paul. Then, Till came along. Actually, Christoph brought him into the picture, for his brother. But, if it made Richard happy, it surely didn’t make Christoph return to Paul. No, Christoph was pacing through the house, like a lion in his cage. He was prowling around Richard’s bedroom door, and with all his struggles to appear as if he was happy for his brother, Paul could read clearly that Christoph was faking, that all his thoughts were on his brother.

Now, Christoph laughed and Paul felt his hand starting to caress his abdomen.

“Sure,” sneered Christoph. “We slept together in the same bed often. Before you, we spent every night together, we talked for hours and…”

“Don’t take me for an idiot,” Paul cut off Christoph’s words and pushed his hand away. “Did you get laid with him since you and I started being together?”

Paul jumped to his feet and walked to the window.

“I can’t take this anymore!” He snapped looking outside the window. “I like your brother, you know. But you are my lover, Chris, and I am not willing to share you with Richard. You have to know that. And now, please, tell me the truth. Have you slept with him?”

Paul stared into the darkness outside. He wished he hadn’t started this conversation. But all those suspicions were driving him insane.

When Till left, it was as if Richard had been broken to pieces. He hid in his bedroom to mourn his loss, but he didn’t give a shit about the mess he left here, outside the walls of his room. In these last three months, Paul’s lover was no longer the always easy going and good-hearted Christoph. Instead, this angry-with-the-world man took his place. This guy that was provoking and starting fights out of the blue, with anyone who had the misfortune to cross his path. The worst was that he ignored his lover almost completely, making Paul feel like he was a toy that once used to be the most favorite and now it had been forgotten in a corner of this house. And in the rare moments Christoph would notice his presence, he would snap and yell at Paul, while to any gesture of affection and tenderness he responded by getting annoyed, and rejecting violently. Christoph was frustrated that his brother locked himself in his room and that he was ignoring him; he was taking his frustration out on Paul, though.

“Yes.”

The whisper pulled Paul from his thoughts and threw him into reality. First he thought he didn’t hear right, but he didn’t dare to ask again.

“I knew it,” he murmured clenching his fist. He turned toward where he knew Christoph was lying in bed. “What was I then? A distraction, a little variation?” Paul asked, clenching his fists harder, as if that gesture would have held him there, on the spot, and prevented him from exploding.

“No, Paul, I love you,” came Christoph’s voice through the veil of darkness. “I don’t want to lose you. We belong together. This thing with Richard and I is something completely different. Please, understand me. I…”

“What is there to understand? Richard would always be between us. I can’t accept this. It’s better if I go.” Paul sat on the edge of the bed. “I would always have the feeling that I’m standing in your way.”

“I’m not letting you go. Why did you ask? You know I can’t lie.” Christoph crept over the bed and snuggled close to Paul’s back. He wrapped both his arms around him and kissed him gently on the ear. “Paul, baby, please…” He whispered softly and pressed little tender kisses on his neck and throat. “I’m lost without you. It won’t happen again. I promise.”

Paul sighed: “Christoph, you shouldn’t make promises you can’t keep. What I need to know is if you really love me or I am just a cover for you, in front of your parents.”

“Come here. I’ll prove it to you.” Christoph freed Paul from his embrace, but pulled him by the hand, and walked to the bed, making Paul follow him. And Paul did follow him. He couldn’t resist him. He never could…

*

Till stood by the window of his room and looked outside at the rain. They were treating him well. Too well. He got everything he wanted. He could walk in the house freely, but only inside the house; all the doors were opened, only his little passage was walled in. It appeared that his father knew about it. Till didn’t have to attend to clients anymore. He only had to be there for one man, for Gert, and that, every day and night. Always. At the beginning, he refused. He didn’t eat for days and just sat crouched in a corner, with his knees up to his chest, and his arms wrapped around his legs. His thoughts always went to Richard. He had to hurt him. He had broken the heart of the only man he ever loved and he had to live with this thought.

Gert read every wish in his eyes. He would have given anything for Till’s love. So he didn’t bother him. One day he mentioned that he could send his men to Richard’s house if he remained so obstinate. Till resigned himself…

Since that day he went along with whatever Gert wanted.

“You can have my body, but never my soul,” Till whispered as Gert was placing kisses on his body. But when he wanted to kiss him of the lips, Till turned his head. “And this is another thing that you can’t have,” Till added.

The blow in his face that followed these words didn’t matter to him. It didn’t matter to him that he could hit back, that he could beat Gert shitless, he just didn’t have it in him anymore to get angry.

And now he stood by the window like every other day. Months had passed. It was February already, and soon it would be spring. Sun. Blue skies. Roses. Richard.

Till sighed and pressed his forehead over the cool glass. His mind was always replaying images of Richard for him. His eyes. His lips. His smile.

“Worried?” Gert’s voice took him by surprise. Till didn’t even hear when he’d come in. “Your sigh would break the heart of a stone. I would like to hear you moaning as you lie under me.”

Gert walked over to Till, grabbed his hand and pulled him close.

“Be nice to me, my pretty,” Gert said, and he avidly pulled Till’s shirt from his pants, then pushed him toward the bed. “If you’re nice to me, nothing bad happens to Richard and his family. Come on, take your clothes off.”

Till threw him a cold, filled with hatred glance. But he had to obey. And Gert smiled at that.

Till slowly pulled his t-shirt over his head, and, with a careless gesture, let it fall on the floor. Gert followed each of his movement with hungry eyes, and Till had to make efforts to ignore the anger that built up in him when Gert was so close to him, to his body, breathing the same air with him.

Think of something else. Think of Richard. Think of his hands, caressing you. Of his lips, kissing you tenderly. Of his…

“Faster.” Gert interrupted Till’s thoughts and for a short moment their eyes met. Till turned around fast and stared at the window again. With shaky hands, he tried to stall time and to unbuckle his belt as slowly as possible. Very slowly. But Gert figured out what Till was up to, and that got him irritated.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” Gert snapped and pushed aside Till’s hands quite roughly, and then tore nervously at the belt and at the buttons of his pants. Till remained motionless. He reached out to the window and his hands tugged so strong at the frame that his knuckles became white. He tried to avoid Gert’s eyes. He tried to do anything possible not to anger him. Till knew very well that he couldn’t push it too much if he wanted not to endanger Richard’s life.
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Regen (Rain)