Betrayal | By : Cyndiana Category: Singers/Bands/Musicians > Rammstein Views: 1162 -:- 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. |
TITLE: Betrayal
AUTHOR: Cyndiana
RATING: NC-17 for very graphic depictions of M/M sexuality and language.
ARCHIVE: A Feather in the Blood (http://groups.yahoo.com/group/afeatherintheblood)
PAIRING: Paul/Doomy, with mention of Richard/Paul
SYNOPSIS: Upon finding Schneider’s journal, Richard discovers their one night of passion. Will his love for Paul be able to stand?
DISCLAIMER: Work of fiction. Not intended as statement of fact. Not for profit.
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[Richard]
That cursed notebook. All tattered and faded. Schneider has HUNDREDS of them. I think he writes everything down. I don’t consider myself a curious person, so I’ve never had much of an overwhelming urge to read it. But it is left open on the little table of our tour bus. And one word, or rather, NAME grabs my full attention: “Paul”. He could have wrote “Richard” and I’d have not cared. He can say what he likes about me, but my Paul? I let my hand brush over the pages. I slip my reading glasses on. I can’t believe I’m about to do this…
[Paul]
I sit at the edge of the pathetic excuse for a creek. It makes me feel larger, and I’m all for that! Compared to this trickle of a stream, I am Godzilla, and decide to emphasize this by stomping about in it, and making monster noises.
Schneider laughs aloud. “Paul, what ARE you doing?”
“Terrorizing the frogs. I am Godzilla! Fear me froggies!”
He cocks that eyebrow at me and returns to throwing pebbles into the stream. He’s wearing a black sleeveless cotton tank, faded baggy jeans, and a baseball cap. I’d never had an attraction to American men (oh Jesus, GOD no!), but if they all looked like Schneider did in his clearly American get-up, I’d be convinced to change my mind. As much as I truly, truly love Richard, the tryst Schneider and I shared flashes through my mind…OFTEN.
I can see the shape of his torso through the tight fabric of his top, and all at once I remember how it felt…How it smelled…How it TASTED. I feel my flaccid corporal begin to salute for my oblivious soldier. God, Paul, you’re a grown man for Christ’s sake! Can’t you gain SOME control of your loins?
[Richard]
I skim over the date. I don’t care WHEN this happened, but WHAT happened, and most importantly HOW. WHY I find to be quite self-explanatory. I read. Typical boring, “We went here…We did this…I hate touring” drabble. Then…
“Till is breaking my heart. I feel so disgusting. I’m not even enough to turn him on, anymore. Maybe I am getting old and losing my looks. I knew it had to happen sometime. Time has been so cruel to me. It has been so kind to the others, especially Richard. It’s as if his biological clock is running backward. I heard someone in the bunk across from me…Paul maybe?”
Then in different colored ink…
“Oh God, what have we just DONE? Not that I didn’t enjoy it…Not that Till didn’t DESERVE it, but oh God…”
I can’t fucking read anymore! Oh, YES I CAN!
[Schneider]
Paul is hiding something. He is the master of redirection. If a magician has a beautiful assistant to distract the crowd while they throw the object off-stage that they’re making “disappear”, Paulie has his silliness. You get so enraptured by the…CUTENESS…You forget there’s something more sinister underneath.
“Paul?”
“Shhh, Schneider, I almost have the citizens of Tokyo under my control!”
“We’re not in Tokyo, we’re in Spain.” I laugh.
See what I mean?
REDIRECTION.
I return to my former train of thought.
“Paul?”
“Yeah, Schneider?”
“Are you…all right?”
“Ja! Why wouldn’t I be?”
I shrug my shoulders. I leave the creek bank and sit in the grass. I laugh as he tries desperately to catch a frog that persists in eluding him.
“Fay Wray, come back!”
“Fay Wray was from ‘King Kong’!” I correct him, giggling.
“Hey! This is MY monster movie, and if I say Godzilla should get Fay Wray, well so be it!”
He sticks his tongue out at me and continues to pursue the frightened amphibian. I sigh and shake my head.
[Richard]
Here he lays bare the sin he and my beloved have committed… In full, color detail. I cry softly, shattering inside. Angry because it happened. Angrier because it was my fault. I ran to her, instead of clinging to him, and now I pay for my transgression. I wondered why Paul looked at him how he did. With that fucking faraway, love lorn glare. My tears are smearing the ink on the pages, but I don’t particularly care. He fucked my love, I can read his diary. I’d almost sign the fucking pages if I only had a pen within my reach. I wondered if Till knew. Then again, Till would hardly care. He was immensely much more forgiving than I in such matters. I told the man I’d fucked his ex-wife and impregnated her, expecting him to crush me like so many egg shells, but he just sighed.
“She isn’t mine any longer, Richard, so what she does and who she does it with are none of my concern. I wish the best of luck to you both.”
I could have killed him for NOT killing me. Right now, all I can think about is killing Paul…Killing Schneider…Then myself. Get it all fucking done with. I throw his bloody journal and sob myself sick.
[Paul]
Ok, so maybe it’s more than lust I feel for Schneider, all right? Maybe somewhere, behind all the big, big, love in my heart that I feel for Richard, there’s a little spot, a LITTLE one for him.
Ok, maybe not so little…
He sits there, eyeing me with that look of concern. I don’t know what he’s so worried about, I seem reasonably happy…I FEEL reasonably happy.
But I’m not.
How could Richard just fuck off like that on me? We agreed that Caron was a beard, and nothing more. That when we were on tour it was OUR time…But in a flash, he flew off to be with her. Grumbling something about, “Family issues”. I was his family! I practically raised Khira Li, when he was stuck with her, and he and Till went out to get pissed. I’d care for her, tuck her in at night.
And he repays me by clinging on to Caron like a clump of toilet tissue on her ass…
And she treats him accordingly.
[Schneider]
He’s thinking…Again…I stand and caress his face.
“Paulie, talk to me…What is it?”
He starts to softly cry. “Paul, tell me…”
“I lost my froggy…” He says, with a soft smile and tear-soaked eyes.
REDIRECTION.
“Paul, be serious, please?”
“I am…I lost my…” He looks down at his feet, “My Richard…”
He clings to me, sobbing deeply.
“Oh, Paul…”
“He’s in love with her, I know it…I know it, and I can’t stop it. I let it happen and now…”
I smile gently, “You’ve lost your froggy…”
He laughs deeply. I tilt his face up to me, and kiss him gently. He returns the kiss momentarily, then stops me.
“No…I’m not going to drive you away, too.”
He walks off with great, long strides, and I stand there, dumbfounded.
[Richard]
I hear Paul enter our hotel room. I am seething, and don’t care to see him, so I hide Schneider’s journal, and curl up in bed, feigning sleep.
He kisses my cheek softly, and I feel a couple of tears fall on my face. It makes me flinch.
“Rich, you awake?”
“Mmmmm…” I mumble in reply.
“Rich, we need to talk.”
“I already know, Paul.”
“You already knew I was going to break up with you?”
I am pissed!
“What?!” I shriek, rolling over so fast, I nearly throw him off the bed.
“Rich, you know this isn’t working…Besides, you’re in love with Caron, I know that, and that’s fine. I knew when we got together in the first place that you were bisexual, and I always knew one day a woman could come into the equati-”
“Paul, shut the fuck up!”
He looks at me with that hurt little boy look.
“I am in love with you, you dumb little shit! Well, I was, before THIS!”
I hurl the journal at him.
Just the mere recognition of who it belongs to makes his lower lip quiver.
“Oh, Richard, I, I….”
“Get out.” I growl.
He looks at the floor sadly, and slips out, taking one last look at me before he goes. I sob madly. What have I done?
[Paul]
That’s it…That is officially IT! I’ve had it. I wait until Richard is out crying on Till’s shoulder and getting pissed, and I pack my suitcase. I am getting out of here. They have Richard, they don’t need me.
I pass by Schneider’s door on the way to the elevator. He pops out and catches me mid-escape.
“Paul, where are you going?”
“Don’t try and stop me, Schneider.” I say, feeling like Ingrid Bergman, and he’s my Humphrey Bogart.
“Paul, don’t go…It isn’t worth it…”
Easy for him to say! He didn’t just lose the love of his life, due to a one-time fling with his best friend.
His best friend who is wearing jeans that hug his hipbones, and a tight, black tank top…and a look of concern…
God damn it!
I drop my bag, and grab him, kissing him so hard, I’m afraid I’ll split his lips, so I ease off a bit.
I feel him smile into the kiss.
“Paul…Paul…”
“Hmmmph?” I ask, still kissing him madly.
“Your bag…Bring it in here…”
Ah yes…
I retrieve it, and drop it on his floor, closing the door behind us. I grab him, kissing him once more.
“So, I take it things with Richard didn’t go so well?” he asks, while undressing me.
“Nope…He’s pretty pissed…He knows about us…”
Schneider stops with his hand on my zipper, shocked. Open mouth, insert your fucking foot Paul.
“How?” he asks.
“He uh…he uh…Read your journal.”
“What?!”
I gulp hard. I have to moisten my mouth to prepare to take into it my other foot. He paces around the room angrily.
“I uh…know how to kill a mood, don’t I?” I ask, faintly chuckling.
Schneider grins evilly.
“Only temporarily.”
What the fuck is he up to?
[Richard]
I am…so….fucking…wasted…
I’ve got to get back to my room.
Ah, there it is…
Fucking Paul…
Mother fucking Paul…
Who’s fucking Paul?
[Schneider]
Richard took my journal, I’m getting Paul in return. Fair trade by my standards.
I wait until I hear Richard enter the room next door to us, and then I finish stripping Paul of the remainder of his clothes.
I lay him on the bed, and suck him in ways I’ve never sucked a man before.
He howls with delight…Good, I want Richard to hear…EVERYTHING.
To bring those journal pages to life for him in living, SCREAMING color.
When I know Paul is PRIMED, I stop, retrieve some lube from my bag, and lube up.
I slide three lubed fingers into Paul, preparing him for the assault I am about to unleash upon him.
When he is ready, I slide into him slowly.
Once we are fit together well, I let all hell break loose.
I slam into him, cutting his loud moans short with each inhuman thrust.
“YES! SCHNEIDER! HOLY FUCKING CHRIST!”
Slam, slam, slam, slam…!
The bed hits the wall, sending the message home: “I’ve got your Paulie”
I keep slamming and slamming…
“SCHNEIDER! OH MY GOD I’M GOING TO COOOOOOOooooommmee….”
He sprays his chest, and mine, and soon I follow suit, screaming aloud.
“OH PAUL! JAAAAAAA!!!!!”
We collapse into a spent, lustful heap.
Revenge exacted.
I kiss him, now able to show him my true intentions.
I love Paul, it isn’t a secret.
I’m happy to have him in my arms.
To have his lips kissing mine.
I’m glad Richard’s such a prick.
He can keep my fucking journal for all I care.
I’m quite sure Paul and I will make enough memories from here on out to fill a new one.
[Paul]
What was that all about?…I want to do that AGAIN!
I pounce upon an unsuspecting, half-asleep Schneider, and giggle.
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