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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.

Chapter List
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Title: Regen (Rain) 28/28
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.

Epilogue

Richard sighed loudly, exhaling the smoke toward the ceiling. He put a hand under his head, first squeezing Till’s flesh and then tapping a rhythm on his thigh.

“You’re tickling me,” he heard his husky voice.

Richard turned his head, but he saw only the newspaper Till was reading. They were both lying in bed, naked; Till was reading the newspapers attentively, while Richard was just lying on his back, across the bed, with his head resting on Till’s thigh.

“New Developments In The Scandal Of Human Trafficking And Prostitution Of Minors – Big Industrialist, Head Of The Network” the titles read. “High Profile Multinational Owner, Head Of Juvenile Prostitution and Pornography Network – new accounts of accusation including human trafficking, kidnapping, rape…” – he could read on the folded page of another newspaper lying on the bed right near Till’s naked torso.

He was bored, but he was allowing Till the time to read all that crap in the newspapers about the trial. And Till was following the case very closely, reading religiously anything published about the scandal that erupted only few months ago. He was reading everything, even if there were the same words, same formulations, same images, repeated over and over again.

Richard stretched out his hand, moving over Till’s thighs, as if searching for something.

He would go out for his daily running session, very early in the morning, and on his way back he would buy and bring the newspapers to the small apartment they shared in the city. Even after all that he’d been through, even after his father tried to make out that Till was just as guilty and that he belonged on the accused bench, with him and Gert and all the others involved, Richard could sense that Till was deeply affected by all that was happening. His father was his only living relative. Now he was in prison, and the judge refused to set any bail.

“If you want to see him, you should pay him a visit,” Richard had told him, one evening, but Till refused. He didn’t even say ‘no’; he only shook his head slowly.

Richard took the cig out of his mouth, shook the ash into the small ashtray placed near him on the bed. Under the fingers of his other hand he felt soft, warm skin. He put the cig back between his lips, while he cupped the palm of his other hand around Till’s still dormant member.

Richard’s parents had been more than generous with Till and him, or, at least, they offered, but he refused. He wanted to start a new life, a new life for him and for Till. Till had some money and properties from his mother’s side, while Richard’s parents gave their son something to help him in this new start, so things weren’t that bad for them.

He spread his fingers over the flesh of Till’s cock and caressed it slowly. He didn’t have to wait for the reaction at his touches, as he felt Till’s member hardening. But Till didn’t seem to notice what was going behind the large sheet of the newspaper.

Both Richard and Till were cited as witnesses and they still had to appear in court to testify. Till was reluctant, in the beginning, to testify against his own father. But when his father tried to make out that he was just as guilty, and not a victim, Till agreed to appear in court.

Richard tried to explain how sorry he was, because he felt somewhat guilty for throwing his father in jail, but Till only asked him on a choked whisper not to talk about that again. Richard could see how all these things were tearing him apart.

He went with the touches and caresses to the base of Till’s cock, over his balls and cupped his palm around them. With the other hand, Richard took the ashtray off the bed and placed it on his chest, then shook the ashes of his cig in it.

They would only watch the news on TV and read the newspapers, but wouldn’t comment much. They just wanted all that to be over, though they knew it would still last for a while now. Police would produce more evidence, and new witnesses would appear. More to feed the loud and yapping, hungry mouths of the media.

At the beginning even Richard was reluctant; he was thinking that it would have been too late to go and to report about how he had been held hostage in that house, sexually abused and then the attempt of murder on him. He feared that no one would believe the words of an ex-junkie like him.

Richard wrapped his fingers around Till’s now semi-erect member and stroked it gently. In the same time he dragged another smoke from his cig. He wished Till would get bored with the newspapers sooner. The break was over.

“Anything new?” He asked on the most casual tone, not stopping from stroking Till’s cock.

Till didn’t reply, and kept the newspaper straight, so Richard couldn’t see his face. Richard used his free hand to put out the cig and then put the ashtray at a certain distance. Then he rolled on his stomach; he placed a kiss on Till’s thigh and then another closer to his hip, while he increased the pace of the hand he was stroking his cock with.

A slight moan came from the other side of newspaper, making Richard grin. He continued kissing Till’s abdomen, then lower, to the base of his cock.

“I really can’t wait for all this to be over,” he heard Till’s voice, followed by the sounds of the newspaper being folded and tossed aside. Then, Richard felt his fingers running through his hair.

Richard looked at Till’s face, then rose at his level, but not letting go of his member, even if he stopped stroking it.

“I want to go away, far away from here,” Till whispered, as Richard leaned over him and kissed his lips softly.

“Where?” Richard asked, detaching from the kiss, but still keeping his lips over Till’s.

“Anywhere. Somewhere where it doesn’t rain so much,” Till replied and kissed his lips, shortly, while his hand slid over Richard’s thighs, and he wrapped his fingers over his lover’s erect cock.

Christoph was still with Paul, and their relationship seemed to go fine. They kept in touch with Richard and Till, paying them visits and going out, all four of them. They were living in the city too, building their own life together.

From time to time, though, both couples met and went to visit Christoph and Richard’s parents at the old mansion. For the first time Till felt like he had a family, a place where he belonged. But neither he, nor the others in that house would understand the meaning of those little smiles Richard and Christoph would throw to each other, now and then.

No one in the house knew about the little room in the loft. A little kingdom for only two princes…

March 2007

Thanx to all my readers...the visible and the invisible:)
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Regen (Rain)