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...and all the sinners, [are] saints!	By : runningnakedinthepark Category: Singers/Bands/Musicians > Rammstein Views: 2308 -:- 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
- 1-Hope I
- 2-Love (Chastity)
- 3-Anger
- 4-Jealousy
- 5-Sloth
- 6-Greed
- 7-Lust
- 8-Gluttony
- 9-Charity
- 10-Vanity
- 11-Hope II
- 3
- 4
- 5
III
Title: …and all the sinners, [are] saints! (3/10)
Author: Mr. Naked
Rating: NC17
Pairing: Paul/Richard, mentions of Till and Flake
Disclaimer: Not for real, just another perverted fantasy of a sick mind
Summary: Jealousy
Archiving: Only with my express permission

III – Jealousy

“I stuck around St. Petersburg
When I saw it was a time for a change
Killed the czar and his ministers
Anastasia screamed in vain”
- The Rolling Stones: “Sympathy For The Devil” -

“It was fun as long as it lasted,” he adds.

I’m stunned. I still can’t believe it.

“But why, Till?”

He shrugs. He reclines better in his plane seat and closes his eyes. He wants to take a nap; the conversation is over, as far as he’s concerned.

But I can’t put up with this kind of crap.

“Why, Till?” I repeat.

He sighs. His fingers tap nervously on the seat’s arm. I can tell he only wants the plane to land so he can have a cig. Not a very good moment to have conversations like this one.

“Well?”

“Paul,” he starts without opening his eyes, “If you don’t want me to lie to you, don’t insist.”

“I want the truth.”

“No, you don’t,” he replies, still with eyes closed.

“Don’t tell me what I want!”

“Paul, I’m tired…”

“I don’t give a shit!”

His fingers clench on the seat’s arm.

“You’re starting to piss me off,” he hisses, turning his face away.

“And you’re pissing me off too, with this “We’re through, but I won’t tell you why” attitude! You sound like a damn bitch!”

I sense all his body becoming rigid as he opened his eyes and turned his face to look at me.

But he doesn’t intimidate me.

“Well…” he starts, his raspy deep voice sounding very calm “The truth is that you really annoy the shit out of me. You bore me, and you cling on me like a leech. It’s suffocating.”

Huh?

I stare back at him, speechless. Unable to understand.

“I’m sorry, but this is the truth that you were so eager to hear,” he concludes.

He keeps looking at me for few more seconds, and then he reclines back on his seat, closing his eyes.

I swallow this lump in my throat before starting to talk.

“Well, I know I’m not the pretty boy Richard is… You decided you prefer him…”

I stop because I can’t speak anymore; I’m about to start shouting and hitting him.

“I’ve been with Richard longer than with you, Paul,” he answers not looking at me. “What you and me had was only a few nights thing, I’m sorry.”

He might be bigger and stronger, but right now I’d smash his face so hard that no plastic surgery would make it like it was before I finish with him.

Instead, I stand and go back to my seat.

No, he won’t win this one. Neither him, neither Richard!

What gives him the right to treat anyone like that? Fuck with me and then tell me I’m annoying him? I’m not his fuck toy!

What did I want from him after all, though? It’s not that I’m in love with him or something.

Actually, I haven’t even been thinking about the possibility of getting laid by him until I found about him and Richard. And if he could be available for Richard, he could be available for me too, right?

And I got what I’ve wished for. I was pretty surprised, to be honest, when he just agreed and went along with it. And, if he wanted it to be only a fling, I guess I can accept it, but not to be told this kind of stuff. He was only allowed to fuck me, no one is allowed to insult me this way, though.

***

He’s drunk. Richard, that is. And he is in my room. His pretty long neat face is relaxed; he still looks like a million bucks, even without his eyeliner and other make-up.

We don’t get to talk too often, like buddies, but from time to time we manage to get together and have a chat.

Now he’s drunk and smoking his cigs, one after another. Something seems to have been bothering him for so long. I’m trying to make him talk, but I can’t get much from him. I’m thinking it might be his relationship with Till, but something in me insists that my assumption is wrong. Something went bad long ago, even before me finding out about him and Till, before me having those few fucks with Till; and I wish I knew what that is that went wrong long ago.

As drunker as he gets, the more closed in he becomes, yet, his features express a deepening sadness.

“Richard,” I whisper, “I know that you’re involved with one of us, from the band.”

For a second he becomes alert, his eyes widen, then squint at me.

“With whom?” he grumbles, threatening.

“Till?”

He inclines his head a bit then he sighs, like in relief.

“Yup,” he says and reaches for his drink to take another sip.

His face relaxes.

“Do you have problems with him?” I start my game.

He shakes his head.

“Not really.”

“What is it, then?”

“Nothing… Guess I’m just tired, all this touring and stuff.”

“You know,” I start “I was thinking…”

“Uhuh” he emits, while drinking again.

“Don’t know, maybe it’s just my stupid mind and…”

He puts the glass back on the table and lights another cig.

“What is it about?”

I straighten my back a bit, positioning myself better on the couch.

“Was wondering about Till.”

“What about him?”

“Well, you know how it was before… The whole situation, before the Wall fell…”

I sense that I’ve caught his attention a bit. But not enough.

“Well, you remember… Back then, to gain a social status, to be able to practice some certain jobs you had to be a certain someone and do some certain things…” I start adding some hesitation in my tone.

Richard crosses his legs, and drags another smoke from his cig. He doesn’t even look at me; as he’s sat like that, and keeping his eyelids lowered he seems more sunk into his own world than paying attention to me.

“I mean, if you wanted to be a journalist or a writer and to be allowed to publish. Or to be allowed to be among the top athletes…”

“What are you implying?” Richard asks absently.

“Well, you know very well how people were forced to join the Party and to…”

He cocks his head, his glance becoming this sharp icy knife piercing through me.

“… and to be informers for the STASI.” I end my sentence in a whisper.

Maybe I went too far, too quick. This could turn against me really bad.

His jaws clench; I swear I can hear him gritting his teeth.

“Or to be able to run a private business without anyone asking you how and what,” I dare to continue my thought.

“I don’t know what you are trying to do Paul,” he said abruptly with a glacial tone. “But I sure don’t like it!”

I lower my gaze.

We’re both quiet for few seconds.

“I’m sorry, I was just…” I start again on a gentle and regretful tone.

But his hastened move, the way he jumped on his feet, his shaking rough gesture of stubbing his cig in the ashtray with an abrupt and rushed movement made me look back at him, worried.

“I don’t want to even start guessing what are you on about, Paul,” he says, on the same glacial guttural tone; now he seems wide-awake. “I don’t think that Till nor his parents were snitching to the STASI. And I don’t want to know why are you telling this exactly to me, when you know what I’ve been through!” He adds and he storms out from the room.

Not knowing doesn’t help you at all, I muse. Actually I don’t know any of that for real, if it’s true or not, but I was wondering about it. Not that I’d care. The past is the past; the present is the present.

And, in this present, I’ve started something I never thought I’d do in my life. I thought I’d be unable to do this kind of thing. I thought I’d never be put in such a situation. But, since that idea about Till’s past was haunting me for quite a while, I thought I should put it in use. True or not, it seems right now the best dagger to stab him with.

Richard didn’t even ask me how I knew about him and Till, though. And his relieved sigh, like he was afraid I’d knew something even deeper and darker about him...

Now he probably hates me. But at least I’ve planted the seeds of that devil in his mind.
I might be a small man, but no one is allowed to trample me under feet like Till did. And Till will get to find that out soon.

***

“Leave me alone, Paul” Richard attempts to fight with me as I’m dragging him along the hallways, to his room.

I couldn’t leave him there, at that party. He’s way too drunk. He spoke on his phone for a bit then remained there, with his forehead propped against a wall. Someone might have seen him like that, standing there, like ready to fall asleep near that wall, because he’s more than wasted.

“You’re a viper, you know!” he chuckles as I’m opening the door to his room and we’re entering.

He’s too drunk and stoned for me to get upset by his words.

“You’re putting bad things into people’s minds,” he laughs sitting on the edge of his bed.

His shirt hangs out of his pants, wrinkled and not properly buttoned. His hair, as his face, looks like a mess, yet, with his disoriented and lost allure he’s more than enticing.

“I hope you’re feeling comfortable with yourself,” he adds while he’s feeling his pockets with his hands, searching for his cigs.

Wow, he’s worried about my conscience! How touching! Give me a bucket before I start puking on the floor!

“What did I do to you?” I ask, amused, standing in front of him.

He sighs loudly. He can’t find his pack of cigs. He shrugs, like giving up. Then he looks up, his blue eyes studying my face.

“It’s like you’re trying to split Till and me,” he says bursting into laughter. “I’m drunk,” he adds inclining his head. “And I can’t find my cigs.”

“Did you talk with him?”

“Uhuh” he says, staring at his feet. "The next day after our little chat"

I’m dying to know what Till had to say, but I feel unable to ask.

Richard lifts his head suddenly propping his glance over my face. He’s grinning. His hands reach out for my hips and he pulls me closer.

“He was upset, obviously,” Richard starts and his fingers begin to unbuckle my pants.

I put my hand over his, to make him stop. But he doesn’t and he pulls my zipper down.

“And?” I ask trying to gain time.

Inside my chest I feel my heart quickening its pace. So it worked! Hold me, don’t let me loose to do my winner’s dance!

“And…” Richard sighs.

He stretches out his index and caresses with its tip along my cock; he wears this lewd and wicked grin, his sight focused upon my awakening member.

“What are you doing?” I’m asking, a bit alarmed.

I can’t do my dance now, this whole thing just started. I’m just at the beginning of it.

Richard seems to ignore my question. He brings his face dangerously close to my erect cock. He stretches his neck a bit, and in this moving brushes the pulsating flesh on my dick with the skin on his cheek.

“He said that if I really suspect him of this kind of shit, I should go check the STASI files, since now they are public,” he continues and twists his head so his lips move against the skin on my cock.

He cups his palms over my ass, squeezing it a bit.

I grab his hair, pushing a bit his face away from me.

He looks up at me with innocent, inquisitive, and rather surprised blue eyes.

“What’s wrong? You don’t want to?” he asks, very serious this time. “Don’t try to bullshit me, I know very well what you’re into.”

Of course I want him, I’ve wanted it for long ago, but it wasn’t for him to know. The idea of a couple lays with him seemed appealing to me, always.

“I asked him to tell me, not to send me to search some fucking files.”

I look at him in silence.

“I know you want it,” he says. “But you wouldn’t dare to ask me. You think I’d get mad and maybe beat the shit out of you.”

He pulls his hands off from mine.

“Probably that’s what I’d do, but now I’m wasted,” he says throwing a fleeting glance over the room. “Look, my cigs!”

He jumps on his feet, but loses balance and falls back on the bed.

I turn around and, holding my pants with one hand, I walk to the table and fetch his cigs.

I give him the pack and I sit near him on the bed. He lights a cigarette and drags the first smoke pursing his lips, his muscles move on his jaws revealing more the exquisite shape of the bone. I lick my tingling lips, thirsty to place a kiss on that very jaw and continue down over his neck.

“He said that whatever he’d tell me, I still wouldn’t believe him. That I’ll always doubt him and all this sort of shit. Contemptible bastard!”

Richard turns his face toward me. He stares at me, motionless.
I stretch my arm toward his hand holding that smoking cig; with a gentle move, I take the cig from his fingers and put it on the ashtray on the nightstand. Then, I cup the same hand over his face, to feel the shape of his jaw and his neck and I start to kiss and nibble over his lips.

He moans in my mouth, folding his arms around my body, and pulling me in the bed near him. He breathes heavily as he grips firmly my neck to bring my face even closer to him, to kiss me even more fervently. He puts his leg over my thighs and I feel him thrusting gently over my crotch as he nibbles and chews on my lips.

For few seconds I hear only the sounds of our kiss and of fabric rubbing and moving.

Richard places his palms on the sides of my face, pushing my head a bit to detach from the kiss.

“You’re a dangerous little man,” he laughs as he lays his head on the side, on the mattress. “You like to fuck with people’s minds.”

He winks and laughs again.

“I’d like to fuck your brain out, what do you say?” he adds, lifting his arm and playing his finger tips along my jaw and neck.

What can I say?

I'm lost. Lost in his smile, lost in that deep blue sparkling ocean of his intoxicated gaze. He simpers and cups his palm over my hip. Then he sneaks his fingers under my t-shirt, his touch along my spine making me moan and arch my back, pushing my chest toward him. He plants his lips over my neck, kissing and sucking on the flesh, as his hand lifts my t-shirt and me, with shaking clumsy fingers, unbutton his shirt. I finally reach the skin on his chest and this weird frenzy erupts inside me, making me lose any contact with reality as I'm assaulting his nipples, kissing and licking them. I sense him laughing as he's fighting with my t-shirt to pull it off me, since I don't want to detach my mouth from his pectorals. I'm pulling his zipper down, and his hand helps me take off his pants. With eager tongue I'm caressing his now stiffened cock, not minding his movements as he's taking off his shoes and gets rid of any other clothes.

I hear again his quiet pleased laughter, and feel him pulling down my pants, as I'm rising with my kisses back over his refined abdomen and chest. His fingers linger between my bare thighs, brushing my balls and with his other hand he lifts my chin so he can kiss my mouth again. His foot pushes down my pants along my legs, and the touch and rubbing of the hairs on his shin against my bare skin make me lose my mind even more. He goes down, with the kisses and licking on my body, pausing more over my cock and my legs as he's getting me rid of my shoes and pants too. Then he rises back at my level, and he curls his fingers over my member, stroking it gently.

“The lube is there” he whispers pointing to the nightstand and, as I turn to search for the tube, he nibbles on my ear and on the back of my neck.

I fumble through the drawers for the damn lube, as I feel his mouth planting kisses along my spine.

He cups his palms over my chest, caressing it, as he's biting the flesh between my shoulder blades.

“Got it” I hiss shaking, but when I try to turn back to him, his hand placed on my shoulder stops me.

He takes it from my hand, pours some of the oily content in his palm, lifts my leg and, with gentle movements he spreads the lube over my ass, sneaking from time to time a finger inside me, making all my muscles twitch and jump in me.

I try to reach my hand backward, to touch his head and face, but he puts it back on my front.

“Play with your cock” he pours into my ear, then I feel him getting even closer behind me.

He enters me slowly, he clings onto my torso as he's starting to thrust and biting and nibbling on my shoulder. His strong arms keep me there as he pounds harsher and faster into me; I fold my palm around my cock and start stroking. I arch my back, leaning all onto him, I make attempts to turn my head and grab his lips between mines for a kiss, but his rhythm is insanely quick, and I just surrender to all this, enjoying the squeeze of his strong arms, his full erected cock like ripping pieces out off my ass, his teeth, clenching on the back of my neck, like tearing stripes off my flesh. But it all has an end too, as I feel flooded inside by his semen, burning my fibres. And it ends again too, when I feel my own seed oozing between my fingers and I spread myself over my chest and the sheets.

Then we hold still, he buries his face in the sweaty back of my neck, his irregular breathing flaming my skin. His thick arms are embracing me comfortably and soothing.

I struggle with my body, forcing myself to stand and then to walk in the bathroom to have a shower. When I get back in the room, I find Richard lying in bed, already asleep.

I throw a fleeting look over the bed and the nightstand. In the ashtray his cig turned into this long grey stick of ashes.

I know I should dress and leave, but I choose to lie in bed near him. I put my head on his chest; I recline better, my shoulders over his stretched out arm, I cover myself with his lifeless forearm and snuggle against his body.

I close my eyes, trying to recover. I’m drained, yet I can’t fall asleep. The lights are out, except from this lamp on the nightstand, pouring dim yellow light, making Richard’s chest glow like covered in bronze. The darkness of the room seems to compress the spot of light into a ball, a warm golden circle surrounding our naked bodies.

I look at his face - his closed relaxed eyelids are smudged with black eyeliner. A small amount of stubble covers his jaws; I’m tempted to caress them, but I fear to wake him.

Minutes crawl in silence; he seems to be deeply asleep; all I can hear is his rhythmic breathing.

I’m thinking again that I should leave, but I seem unable to get myself to do it. I’m enjoying being here, near him, under his arm, in this quiet room, free to watch him sleeping, to feed my eyes on his beauty.

Maybe I’ll never have this chance again.

I close my eyes again, sensing how tired I actually am.

Then, my ears pick that sound. I open my eyes, alarmed.

Someone is entering the room.

A big bulky frame, a huge shadow is walking slowly to our bed.

“What the fuck are you doing here, Paul?” comes this growl from the shadow’s direction.

It’s Till.

Why the fuck did he have to come in right now?

Richard’s arm moves under my shoulders. He opens his eyes too.

“Hello, Till” Richard greets him.

Till stands still, quiet.

Richard rises a bit, and rests his back on the pillows.

“That’s why you called me?” Till growls.

Maybe I should get out. Right now would be perfect. But my limbs don’t obey my brain’s command.

“To show me this?” continues Till.

“Bingo!” replies Richard, calmly, as his hand is searching for the pack of cigs.

“Guess insulting me yesterday with those questions about my past wasn’t enough for you,” states Till, on a plain tone.

Richard doesn’t answer; instead he lights himself a cig. I’m trying to get my body as closer as possible to his, like asking for protection against the big infuriated man that caught us. Richard moves slightly, though, putting a few centimetres between our naked skins, denying me that protection.

“Whatever, Richard” sighs Till. “It was fun while it lasted. I don't even want to know why you did all this.”

The huge shadow turns around and starts walking to leave the room.

“It wasn’t that,” says Richard, bringing his knees closer to his chest.

Till turns back, to look at him.

Richard expires the smoke in Till’s direction.

“I don’t care what you did in the past” starts Richard. “What has been has been, all I want is to put behind me the shit that happened back then.”

“What’s your fucking problem then?” growls Till. “Or was it your idea, Paul, you jealous little shit?”

“No, Till, it was my idea. I surely didn’t like to find out that you were screwing around with him,” explains Richard, pointing me with a movement of his head.

I look at him, startled.

“How the fuck did you…?” Till and me ask in the same time.

“It doesn’t matter” Richard’s glacial tone makes me freeze. “Now, get the fuck out, both of you, I need to sleep. I’m tired to be played around. First, that shit head, now the two of you…” he ends his sentence in an angry mumble.

He keeps smoking, looking through the darkness above his head up at the ceiling, meaning that the conversation is over, waiting for us leave.

I glance at Till, the white of his eyes sparkling in the shadows, beyond the border of the yellow circle of light.

“What shit head?” comes Till’s raspy whisper.

“None of your business. Now, fuck off!” replies Richard sharply, embracing his crouched legs with one arm as he props on his knee the elbow of the hand holding his cig.

I rise in bed, and start searching for my pants. I’m still not sure if Till will leave me alone or break my bones once we’re out of here, but I can’t stand this anymore.

***

Through the half opened door of the dressing room I can see them. They are sitting on the chairs, facing each other. Till’s back is bent, his thick arms embracing Flake’s scraggy waist, as he has his face buried in the skinny man’s thighs. Flake’s hands caress his back, slowly, as he’s whispering something in Till’s ear.

I was sent to fetch them; the concert is about to start. Yet, seeing them like that I just froze.
First I thought… But, no, Till is just sitting like that, while Flake seems to try his best to comfort him.

I make another step to the opened door, but something makes me stop again. My own reflection in the mirror in the dressing room catches my gaze.

So, he’s through with me, Richard rejected him, now he turned toward Flake. I sneer at the man in the mirror, he’s wearing that Tyrolese funny hat and he’s grinning back at me.

I didn’t use to be like that, only the thought of hurting someone on purpose was making me sick. I always thought that revenge is for fools, my thoughts tell the man in the mirror. But, in the same time, I’ve never been humiliated like this by someone that claims to be my friend. Telling me that he can’t stand me. I bore him, I address to the reflection in the silverish lake of the mirror. I’m like a leech… clinging onto him.

Well, that means more fun for me, breaking him and Flake will be my pleasure. Because I’m not done with him, yet!

Then will be Richard’s turn. How the fuck did he find out about me and Till though?

Anyway, they’ll both see how dangerous this little man can be.

I might be shorter than all of them, but I do have my pride, and I can’t stand to be trampled under foot like that! Even if right now I'm eavesdropping, and can't unglue my sight from that silly looking man looking back at me from the shiny surface of the mirror. He's hilarious, but then I've never minded making others laugh or at least put a smile on their faces.

To be continued...
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...and all the sinners, [are] saints!