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Complications Of The Flesh	By : runningnakedinthepark Category: Singers/Bands/Musicians > Rammstein Views: 1262 -:- Recommendations : 1 -:- 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
- 5
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Title: Complications Of The Flesh 6/10
Author: Robby a.k.a. Mr. Naked
Rating: NC 17
Pairing: Till/Christoph, mentions of Till/Flake
Disclaimer: Never happened.
Beta: hannelore_k
Author’s note: Based on lisa_thecat’s wonderful “Dirty Story”.

VI.

*The me that you know…*

The door opened, and Till appeared in the threshold. For a few seconds he looked at me as if an alien had landed right then, at his door.

“Hello to you too, Till,” I said, thinking that maybe it wasn’t exactly the right time to pay him a visit.

“Hey, Christian,” he greeted me and opened the door wider. “Come in.”

“I could come another time, you know,” I said.

“No, it’s ok,” he replied, turning and starting to walk.

I entered the house; I closed the door behind me and followed him. He was wearing nothing but a pair of shorts, and was barefoot. Also, he didn’t exactly look like he just woke up. Then?

“Did you get rid of them?” Came this other voice.

Till stopped at the entrance of his study room as if waiting for me, and when I got near him, he stepped in, making room for me. That’s when I could take a good look at his face, when he turned to me. But only for one second, because then he looked in a different direction. Somewhere inside the room.

“Cover yourself,” he said the moment I entered the room.

First I thought I didn’t hear right, but then I turned my glance and I saw him. He was just putting on one of Till’s shirts. Those beautifully drawn face features, those blue eyes and the longish, black curly hair, the white skin…

“Christoph, this is Christian, my publisher and friend. Christian, this is Christoph,” Till made the introductions.

He smiled then. Warm, extremely friendly, beautiful, bewildering… He stood up, with gracious movements – he was perfect. Perfect face, perfect smile, perfect eyes, perfect legs, perfect body – I hated him.

He shook my hand and then walked out of the room, excusing himself that he should go dress up. I wondered how much about him and me did Till tell this guy.

“What do you want?” Till asked. “Coffee, a beer, something stronger?”

“No, I’m fine.” I replied and took a seat on the couch where Christoph had been sitting before.

“Ok,” Till said and sat down too, on the chair near his desk. “How have you been?”

I looked at his face again.

“Just great,” I answered. “I see that you’ve been busy,” I added on a blank tone.

He couldn’t restrain that lewd smile. That’s when I realized what looked so wrong to my eyes – the fading trace of a bruise sprawled at the end of his left eye, stretching to the temple and the bone of his cheek. What the hell?

Again, he hadn’t given any sign that he was alive and well for quite a while. Just one day I was sent the first draft of his new book.

I heard the bathroom door and then the water of the shower.

“Where did you find him?”

I was curious. I didn’t dare to ask about the bruise.

“On the street,” he answered quickly, on a cheerful tone.

I assume I looked at him a bit awkwardly.

“I almost ran him over with my car,” he added.

“Always a romantic.”

He laughed shortly.

I knew he was sleeping around, he had flings that wouldn’t last more than two weeks, but to actually bring that someone into his house and, more, to introduce him to me, this meant it was serious. Of course I had to find out more.

“He’s young and pretty,” I said.

No wonder Till would forget about everything and everyone, including his best friend. No wonder he was so keyed up; I couldn’t compete with him, that beautiful boy.

“Yup.”

“And what’s he doing?”

Was he doing anything else, besides being pretty and making a man like Till fall head over heels for him? Did he actually work for a living?

“Uhm, well…” Till hesitated and sighed.

Yeah, I knew it. He’s here to suck on Till’s money.

“He’s working on the street,” he answered, his face wearing an expression of fake embarrassment.

“What do you mean? Like the garbage man or…?”

“No, he’s a hustler.”

“Are you…?” I almost exploded, but then I stopped, swallowing the rest of the sentence.

I looked at him, hesitating to ask him to repeat what he had just said.

“Are you out of your fucking mind?” I whispered.

Till only shook his head, smiling.

“Is he tested?”

“He’s not some sort of new drug, you know,” Till chuckled.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” I hissed. “Do you have any idea…?”

I stopped again. All the thoughts in my head were running like the speed of light through my skull, colliding and bumping into each other. I didn’t even know what to start with first.

“He’s ok,” Till tried to assure me.

He looked so calm, so relaxed, so warm and so at peace with himself, like I’ve never seen him before. Till had always had this trace of sadness in his blue eyes - those eyes that made me fall for him, and to forgive and forget many times in a row his moments of messing around – even that trace was gone now.

“Yeah, maybe he’s clean. And he’ll clean you of your money. Are you fucking insane?”

Till laughed.

“He’ll get his friends to break into your house and rob you. Or he’ll kill you, and then rob you.”

Till laughed even harder, slapping his knee with his palm.

“It is called senile dementia. You are not responsible for your actions anymore.”

Till was highly amused.

“You’re an old fool in love with a hooker,” I muttered and stood up.

I couldn’t believe it!

“Well, let’s not exaggerate,” he replied softly. “So, what do you think about the book?”

Yes, the book. Shit!

“Well…” I hesitated, because I felt that if I were to pronounce those words, I would have thrown up, knowing that those pages were inspired by that man’s beauty. “It’s excellent.” I managed to force myself to say it. “It impressed the hell out of me. And you managed to write so much in such a short time. I mean, it’s not like you. But I’m really glad to see you back at work…”

It was the truth. And I hated it too.

The world started to revolve around this new guy, with his innocent face and blue eyes. I wanted to see him, face to face. To tell him. To warn him to watch his moves, to be careful about what he was doing, because Till might have been dumbstruck by love, but I was vigilant. And I would have my eyes on him.

“I still have stuff to do on it, but you’ll have it back soon,” I added. “Ok, I have to go to work. Give me a call sometime, so I know you’re still with us.”

I stepped out of the room, followed by Till.

“Yeah, I will,” he mumbled behind me, as we walked to the door.

Did he give Christoph what he was writing to read? Or did he read for him out loud, with that husky and enticing voice of his?

We stopped at the entrance for a few seconds and looked at each other.

“He will destroy you, Till,” I whispered, knowing that beyond anything else I was right. No matter how well they got along, that kind of relationship would never work.

“Christian…”

He said only that, looking at me, his face wearing a sad smile. It was me who put an end to our relationship. I was the one who decided that I could bear better a life without him as a lover, rather than always wondering where he was, why he wasn’t answering his phone, who he was with …

“How long since he moved in with you?”

I was curious again.

Till frowned and then burst into a short laughter.

“He didn’t move in with me…” He replied shaking his head, as if I was a dumb kid saying something really naïve.

“How did you get that bruise?” I dared, finally. I pointed toward my temple, though.

A guilty look crossed his face. Then he lowered his glance.

“I drank a bit too much one evening,” he said.

I looked at him, wondering if he was telling the truth or lying. If he was lying, then there must have been some connection between this new guy and Till’s bruise.

He raised his gaze, looking back at me.

“Well, take care,” I said and stepped out.

“Thanks, you too,” he answered and drew a tired smile.

I threw him one last look, turned and walked down the two steps from his entrance. I walked into the street, and didn’t look back. I didn’t want to see him disappearing into his house and closing the door.

I felt that nauseating taste in my mouth then. I didn’t hate that boy in there. Actually I would have even tried him at least once, because he must have been a feast in bed just like he was a feast for the eyes.

I hated Till. I hated him for giving this boy something I didn’t think he was capable of. Hell, even he wouldn’t have thought to be able to feel like that for someone, and to actually want to be only with that person, and not to give a damn about the rest of the world or about what anyone else would think.

To be continued...
- 5
- 6
- 7
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Complications Of The Flesh