Adult-FanFiction.org : Celebrity

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.

Chapter List
- 23
- 24
- 25
Title: Regen (Rain) 24/28
Author: akasha6 (This particular chapter has been written entirely by Mr Naked)
Beta and co-writer: 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 24

Till exhaled the smoke right into the glass of the window in front of him, and for a few seconds he was surrounded by this soft, gray cloud coiling around his body, in the afternoon light.

It had been the first day in a long time that the gray clouds decided to let the Sun take a peek at the Earth, Till thought to himself. It hadn’t been one of those bright, glorious days either, but the gentle rays shone to dry up a bit this place soaked by the rain. He even had a little walk in the park early that morning, when Gert was still sleeping in his bed. It was his first time in so long that he’d gotten out of the house, too. He’d rather stay inside the house than go out, because Gert would want to go out with him too, or, if it wasn’t Gert, he’d have to bear the company of his father’s guards.

It wasn’t like he would have tried to run away again. He had given up that thought long ago, like he had given up fighting them, as well. As long as he was complying with their insane demands, Richard would be safe, as well as his family, and that was the most important thing for him. He knew that if they had done something to Richard and his family, Gert wouldn’t have missed the opportunity to brag about that in front of him. But so far, nothing of that sort, only Gert’s attempts to tame him.

And Till let him and his father think that they succeeded at that. Most of the times at least. After all, they could do whatever they wanted to his body – that’s what they always did, anyway – but his soul was his. So were those few images of Richard he kept hidden in his mind; it was like this small room buried deep, like a cellar, in which Till would take refuge, especially in those times Gert was taking him. And, suddenly, that hand became Richard’s hand touching and caressing him, those lips turning into Richard’s lips kissing him and whispering his name. This was the only way to keep him sane.

But all this had to have an end. And Till felt like this day was the day. Gert was always aroused by a little or even a lot of resistance from Till, but he was also a smart man that could figure out what was going through Till’s mind. Gert wanted more than for him to obey, he wanted him to do willingly all that he had to and most of all, to love him. It wasn’t easy to trick him. But… Till had been thinking for weeks about another way to his freedom; there was another escape, and he knew that, in spite of all the guards and the video surveillance cameras all over the house, he would slip through their fingers and they wouldn’t be able to do anything about that. All the pain would be forgotten. And they wouldn’t go after Richard and his family either.

It would be too late.

*

Richard exhaled the smoke toward the ceiling.

“Where’s Paul?” He wanted to know.

He sensed Christoph fidgeting in the bed, but got no answer. Richard was lying on the bed, naked, smoking, keeping one hand under his head as he was staring toward the ceiling. He was exhausted, but he felt good, for a change. For the first time in the last three months.

“Don’t tell me that you broke up with him,” Richard whispered and dragged another smoke from his cig.

He turned his head and looked at the man lying next to him. Christoph was lying on his back too, with his hands under his head, and he was staring at the ceiling, as well.

“I told him,” Christoph replied on a stern tone. “He wanted to go and clear his mind. To make a decision. I guess he has to accept this, if he wants to be with me. Just as your Till has to, if you get him back.”

He sighed and turned his head to look at Richard. Both men looked at each other in silence, for a few seconds.

“How am I going to tell dad?” Richard whispered. “How am I going to take Till from there?”

“Go there, with dad. Maybe you’ll see and talk to him,” Christoph suggested.

“He has to choose. He has to tell it to my face that he’d rather be with that Gert,” Richard murmured, feeling the hot stir of anger ignited in his chest. He sat up in the bed, and put out the cigarette with nervous gestures.

“Would you want me to go there with you?”

Richard twisted his head and looked at his brother for a few seconds, without saying anything. Then, he nodded in agreement.

*

Till thought that it couldn’t be any worse than here, in this house. This was hell, and no one can escape Hell, can they?

He’d been thinking about it for quite a while, but he always found himself reasons not to go on with it. He felt as if there was a part of him that suspected that his father and Gert and all the others could reach him even beyond his grave. He had it ready, hidden, and he knew there was no risk of him surviving this. And, as funny as it might have sounded, it kept him alive, it kept him whole all this time. Because he knew he had the back door ready, his escape from which no one could ever bring him back. In the few moments of real solitude he had, when he felt like he couldn’t go on anymore, he would take it out and contemplate it. It gave him such a pleasant, reassuring feeling to know that he had a way out. And it would have been his decision. No more pain. No more beatings. No more Gert. No more rain.

But then, the day before, something happened, something that made him think it was about time he had to do it. Something that Gert told him. Till smiled, feeling a warm stir inside when he recalled. Suddenly he opened the window in front of him.

“Look at me,” Gert demanded of him as he was entering him. Till cursed, in his mind of course, for having to give up on fantasizing about Richard having him in his bed, restrained and thrusting inside him, while Gert would do his business. “Give me a smile,” demanded again that sadistic jerk.

Till grinned at him.

“Drop dead!” He spat through his teeth.

Gert smacked him hard over the head and face, and made him hear a clanging sound. Till swallowed the lump in his throat and burst into a forced laughter.

After he’d finished, instead of falling asleep by his side, like anyone else, Gert started another of his tirades about how Till had to mind his behavior if he didn’t want to read the next day some nasty lines in the newspaper about the tragedy that struck Richard’s family. Then, like out of the blue, Gert added: “By the way, your father’s friend is coming here for a visit and he’s bringing his two sons too.”

Till felt as if his heart stood still. Gert had stopped in the middle of the room, his eyes became mere slits as he watched Till’s reaction. But there was none. No muscle even twitched on Till’s face.

“Of course,” Gert continued to talk. “You will be there. But I’ll be there too. So, be careful. You don’t want to risk some freak accident happening to them on their way back from here. It would be such a shame.”

He threw Till a full of meanings glance, then went into the shower. Till remained still for a while – he hadn’t even heard what Gert babbled about after he had said the magic words: Richard was coming there, the next day. And Till was to see him. Those where the only thoughts that swirled through his head, loud, deafeningly loud.

Richard will be here tomorrow, standing right in front of him, only a few meters way, if not even less than that. He won’t be able to touch him, but … Richard will be here. And these thoughts kept spiraling through his mind like a healing mantra.

Till lit himself a cigarette, listening to the sounds of the water pouring in the shower.

Richard. Here. Near him. In this house.

Till jumped to his feet and put out the cigarette with rushed and nervous gestures.

*

His father’s study room gave him always the sense that he was in a museum, or rather in a courthouse. All the big decisions were made there; that was the place from where his father’s empire was ruled. And, for whatever reason, even now, when he was already a grown-up, Richard felt that he was like a small boy unable to reach the top of that made of massive wood study table of his father‘s. He was always overwhelmed by a sense of respect, once he’d stepped into his father’s den. All that massive wood, all those shelves and all those books, the paintings…

His father had listened to him very attentively as he told him, on a low and monotonous voice about how Till had to be taken away from that place. His father didn’t interrupt him with any comments.

“I have to be there,” Richard pleaded his cause. “I have to talk with him.”

“And then?”

Richard shrugged. He didn’t dare to say it out loud. He wanted Till to leave that place and come with him. What would follow, they’d work it out, but first, Till had to be taken out of that horrific place. If he wanted to. And that’s what Richard was planning to find out.

Richard was surprised his father didn’t start about him doing nothing much with his life, or about the drugs… Each damn day he was thinking of and craving for just one more fix, especially in these last three months, but he always had found the strength to resist the urge.

“Did you think about how you’ll get him out of there?” His father’s calm voice pulled him from his thoughts.

For the first time since this conversation started, Richard looked straight into his eyes. He swallowed this lump in his throat. His lips formed the word:

“Yes.”

*

Till waited until he got accustomed to the humid heat, and his eyes, with the clouds of vapors in the bathroom. He watched the reflections of Gert’s naked body, through the glass walls of the shower. Till thought of how it would be to get in there and just kill him. He had contemplated that thought so many times, but, of course, it all remained just a little sadistic fantasy of his. Not that he wouldn’t have had opportunities to do it; Gert was so confident, and maybe he was right to be like that. Till knew he would never kill anyone.

He opened the glass door, and stepped into the shower, behind Gert. He embraced him, from behind, putting his hands over his chest, and leaned down, placing a kiss on the back of his neck. He sensed how Gert’s body tensed, remaining motionless – surely he was surprised.

“What do you want?” Gert had asked him.

Till kissed his shoulder.

“A favor,” he answered.

“And now you came here to persuade me?”

Till’s hand slipped down, reaching Gert’s cock.

“OK, you can ask anything of me except your freedom or that little whore.”

“I want an hour with him, tomorrow.” Till started stroking Gert’s cock. “Just him and me. Only one hour. Then, I will never ask for anything. Never again.”

Gert gasped for air. He had gotten hard and obviously was enjoying Till playing with his cock. But Till needed that – he had to explain it all to Richard. He had to tell him that he did all that to protect him, that he loved him… He had to set him free; he had to touch and kiss him for one last time. Then, that night he would leave this place of sorrow and pain, this world. He’d take with him the taste of Richard’s lips, the scent of him, the sensation of his skin under his palm and the image of him, imprinted in his mind.

“Get on your knees,” Gert said, and Till obeyed. He had to, if wanted to get his wish granted. He caressed Gert’s thigh and kissed his abdomen, getting ready to take him in his mouth. Right then, Gert tugged at his hair, jerked his head, pulling him by the hair, and forced Till to look up at his face.

“You have 15 minutes with your little whore. But you’re not allowed to touch him. And you’ll explain to him that you don’t want to touch or to be touched by anyone other than me. If you touch him, it will be him that won’t make it to the next day,” Gert told Till on a very relaxed tone, but his eyes were like ice, cold and sharp. “After that, you’ll never mention him ever again, and you’ll do willingly all you’re supposed to do. You’ll truly belong to me, and between you and me there’s no place for your junkie friend.”

Till looked at him with all his seriousness. Gert pulled his hair even harder and jerked his head again.

“Do you understand?”

Till fixed him with his glare. Fifteen minutes. OK, better than nothing. He could deal with that.

“Yes,” he whispered, and Gert’s fingers unclasped from his hair. Till got his mouth closer to his cock. He looked up again. “Thank you,” he said before taking him in his mouth.

Oh, and how he stuck his fingers down his throat to puke it all, after he had finished with him. It felt like hot venom burning his insides – he had to throw it all up.

But now there were only minutes until he had to see him. He was all dressed up, he did try to look his best, and was waiting, standing in the hallway in front of that large window facing the park surrounding the house. He went there, that morning, for one last walk, to feel the sharp, cool and fresh morning air through his lungs, to get intoxicated by the smell of wet leaves and dark ground. He couldn’t sleep all night; actually, since Gert gave him that news, and agreed for Till to have his 15 minutes with Richard, he didn’t have any rest at all.

“Why the fuck did you dress like that?”

Till twisted his head, alarmed. Gert was standing near him, and he didn’t look very happy. Maybe even those 15 minutes he had given Till were too much for him.

“You look like you’re going to a fucking funeral!” He snapped, and Till sensed that Gert would have even hit him, but they weren’t in the privacy of their room. Till was all dressed in black, but that’s how he dressed almost all the time. Gert only gave him an angry, but very cold glare of his, and then he walked away.

Till threw the remainder of his cigarette out the window, then slammed the window shut. He felt his blood boiling in his veins. He stormed into his room and started fumbling through his clothes, almost tearing the fabric, and throwing them all over the place.

“Why the fuck does it matter how I am dressed?” He muttered, while searching through his clothes with hands that were shaking with anger. Finally, he pulled it out.

He held it up, in the light and started to grin.

Pink. It was a pink shirt. The most cheerful pink ever.
- 23
- 24
- 25
You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.
Report Story

Regen (Rain)