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Spiel Mit Mir	By : lisathecat Category: Singers/Bands/Musicians > Rammstein Views: 1402 -:- 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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3. Christoph
“Hey, my love…”
“Hi, Paul.”
“How could you resist two weeks without me?”
“Been busy with family matters, you know.”
“And when am I going to meet this amazing family of yours?”
“I have some things to sort out now. But yes, you have to meet him.”
“Him?”
“I meant them. And Richard, my brother.”
“I’ve been missing you a lot.”
“Me too… Just that now…”
“Now it’s not a good time… I know. I give a few more days and then you will find me at your doorstep! With a bunch of flowers and a mariachi band! You will regret it if you don’t call me first!”
I smile at the phone. Feeling this warmth spreading through me.
“I love you, Paul.”
“And don’t you dare forget it!” His voice becomes serious. “I love you more!”
“Bye.”
I put down the receiver. I do love you, Paul. But I can’t explain to you why for two whole weeks I haven’t thought about you even one moment. It’s all been about Richard. Finding him again. Going out with him. Playing with him. Loving him. And then crumbling inside when he started avoiding me. This past week has been pure torture. I don’t know what is wrong, what I did wrong. But my brother changed. I see him going out in the morning, alone, and coming home late at night, wasted. Each time I tried to talk to him, he gave me some vague answers and pushed me away.
What the hell have I done? I loved him the way I know how to love a man. With all my heart. And all my passion. Does he think what we did was dirty? It was all love. It was all beautiful. He gave himself to me and I gave him pleasure. And love. Doesn’t he love me anymore? Was it just a slip? A mistake?
I am going crazy. Yesterday, in town, I passed by him. He was at this bar with this other guy and he was laughing and drinking and having a good time. I stared at him from the outside, and the windows reflected the image of this broken man, barely able to contain his tears. I didn’t even think about going inside and try and act nice and normal and meet his friend. I ran away, like chased by a ghost. When my lungs didn’t support my running anymore, I just crashed into a back alley. The world was spinning and all I knew was that I can’t take this anymore. I can’t live without him. Without knowing there’s a hope to have him again. Have his eyes smile at me again. Have his mouth surrendered to my kisses. Have his beautiful body shivering under my caresses. Just touch his smooth and silky skin… Press my face on the insides of his thighs… Adore him… Make love again…
A window opened and a woman threw dirty water right near me. It splashed me. I got up and wiped my face. It was only then that I noticed that I have been crying too.
Richard didn’t come home last night. I watched TV late in the night, not paying any attention to the world’s crisis. All that mattered was the Richard didn’t come home. He was with this guy. Some other man was taking what was mine. His wet mouth, his touches, his soft moans, his blue eyes closing in pleasure. My fevered imagination kept playing images of Richard having sex with another man. Writhing in delight. Hungry for more. His pure, angelic face smeared with a stranger’s come.
In spite of the alcohol I poured into myself, I couldn’t sleep. I moved to his room. Tried to find comfort in seeing all his things there. But they only told me about his absence. Desperate to feel his scent I crashed into his bed. I took off all my clothes and let his sheets caress my naked skin. I wetted his pillow with my tears and his sheets with my come.
Morning. Coffee. Headache. Paul’s call. Shower. Despair. Bigger than anything.
“What are you doing in my room, Christoph?”
I literally jump from the bed. His bed.
“Richard… You’re back.”
“Yes. And I am very tired. I want to sleep. Move away.”
He takes off his sunglasses and he looks so beat and tired that my heart cringes.
“Is everything OK, little brother?”
“It’s all good. Now go. I want to sleep.”
He doesn’t want me here. He doesn’t want me, pure and simple. I get out without looking back at Richard, who is unhurriedly undressing. Back to my own room. Completely crushed. I sit by the window and it’s such a beautiful spring day outside, I am aching. Like I am aching for Richard.
This can’t be! I have to tell him. I have to ask him!
I hesitate in front of his closed door. Only a moment. Then I’m in. Richard is in bed, carelessly wrapped in the sheets I messed up. He is already sleeping. He’s so beautiful when he sleeps. My heart is filled with so much love, I am afraid it’s going to burst.
Closer. Removing the sheets.
Richard is naked. My eyes follow hungrily the contours of his body, the fine muscles and the refined curves. A body made to be loved. Without thinking, I’m taking my clothes off and slide near him. Just to feel him. I spread my fingers over that perfect pale skin in an unstoppable caress. Warmth.
“Let go, Christoph! Let me sleep!”
My eyes fill with hot liquid pain.
Out of his bed, I don’t see where I am going. I only find myself again in the bathroom. I have a knife in my hand.
The naked man in the mirror smiles. Sharp pain. I watch the blood flowing and dissolving in the water. Fascinating.
“Christ, what are you doing?”
My brother grabs my still untouched right hand before I make the cut. Richard has tears in his eyes and when I see him, I feel like crying again too. I drop the knife.
He holds me tight and kisses the blood off my left hand.
“God, Christoph, what did you do? We have to take you to a hospital… But everything will be alright, I promise you… I love you… I love you… I love you…”
I touch his lips with my finger, smudging the blood there. My own blood.
“I love you, little brother…”
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