Till was sitting in the deserted kitchen and staring blankly at his glass of vodka. It was barely 12 a.m. and he was already drinking but fuck it, he really had a reason for that. Good reason. Great part of his world was just turned upside down and he felt too dizzy to recognize directions again. What had happened in the bathroom was shocking, unexpected, bizarre. Surrealistic.
The kiss had been desperate, quick and shallow, but not unnoticed. Cold vodka calmed him down a bit, but also washed away the flavor. Hint of cigarettes, a bit of a toothpaste, some sweet accent and fleshy hotness. What in Lord's sake? Should the kiss be treated like a distraction or something serious? How come it could ever be serious? Why would Richard ever feel something more than brotherly connection and manly friendship? He finished the glass with only one sip and shook like a dog out of water. Strong shit, indeed.
Richard definitely was somewhere else, since he was nowhere in the bus. Till wasn't sure if he was ready for the confrontation, after that experience, but he also knew they were short of time- in few hours, they had to be in the city, start preparing the stage and perform a concert tonight. Usual, perfect, outraging, dark, aggressive masterpiece of live performance their fans expected. Yet, it'd be impossible if there was an awkward silence between two main figures of the band, unspoken explanation and ridiculous secrets.
"I'm not sure if it's appropriate to ask" Till almost fell off the chair, when Flake's voice interrupted his train of thoughts
Keyboardist was eyeing him calmly, yet with a hint of strong judgment, which wasn't surprising.
"And I'm not sure I'd be able to answer" he replied grimly
Since it was Flake, who served as an object of Till's affections recently, this situation was only more awkward. And complicated. Till sighed heavily and poured himself another glass of vodka, looking at it as if he was considering drowning himself in it. That'd be way more comfortable that way.
Richard finished his third cigarette and barely stopped himself from lighting up the fourth one. He was already smoking too much and now he was breaking his own record. He also nearly finished the first bottle of beer and his shaking mind turned into shaking vision. He actually had empty stomach so getting drunk soon was highly probable.
"Reesh, just don't get scared"
As it was easy to predict, he probably had never been scared more in his life. He nearly spilt the rest of the beer all over, burn himself with the cigarette and slide off the table he was sitting.
"Fuck it, Landers, I told you to stop sneaking on me like that!" he growled furiously, his words slightly blurry
"I don't sneak. You're the one who never watches out" second guitarist sat right next to Richard without invitation "What are you doing here?"
"Just...chilling. Fresh air and shit"
"Yea, fresh air" Paul muttered ironically, eyeing the cigarette butts and empty bottle "You wish you were as good liar as good guitarist you are, don't you?"
"I only wish to be left alone now"
"No. I'm not going to leave you here like this. I know something is wrong. I was in the bus and saw Till in the kitchen. He looked like he suffered from a hybrid of hangover and brain excision. Flake agreed to check on him and I went to look for you, man. What's wrong?"
"Nothing"
"Yea, and you sit here like beaten puppy, getting drunk and feeding your future lung cancer, for hobby?"
"...Yes"
Paul rolled his eyes and growled, losing his goofy attitude.
"I swear, Kruspe, I sometimes feel a wild urge to smack you in the head with something heavy!"
"Do it. I will be grateful for the lifetime" Richard's voice was mechanical and tired, and he really seemed totally indifferent to his own life
Paul grabbed his head aggressively and made him look. Richard obeyed like a boneless puppet.
"Look at me, Richard, and pull yourself together. What happened? What's wrong?"
"I did something stupid, that's all. Really stupid. I behaved like a brat. End of the story"
Even during Live Aus Berlin, while wearing ice-cold contacts, his eyes hadn't been as dead and dolly as now, and that really scared Paul. His friend and bandmate was totally devastated and stubbornly refused to explain why.
"Richard" he moved hands on Richard's shoulders and shook him "Focus. Please, tell me."
"Please, Paul, let it go. I don't feel like sharing now. I need to be alone and get together."
"Out of question, we...!"
"Please"
Paul opened his mouth to continue but his phone rang. He picked it up and exchanged few negations and agreements. Then, he came back to Richard, who was lifelessly gazing at the cloudy sky.
"Okay. I suggest this: you stay here for an hour, undisturbed and no one asks you anything, but after that time, you get back and prepare for tonight, okay?"
"Yea. Sounds fine" Richard nodded slowly
"I'll get you some water, before your guts drown in this beer"
"Yea, yea"
Paul jumped off the table and headed the bus. Richard started staring at the ground this time, seeing yellowy grass wave in the wind. He had one hour to figure it out. Not much. He didn't feel like doing anything. All he wanted was to sit in a cool air and gaze at his calm landscape, letting his thoughts wander free and drunk forever. He opened another beer and let his world spin faster.
His mind registered autumn grass being crushed by someone's steps. He thought it could be Paul with water but the steps were too heavy for short and slim guitarist. He turned around and saw Till, who looked just as lost and destroyed.
"Here I am" singer said, his words also not so clear, and wheezy
"W...What?"
"Guys told me you wanted to see me. So here I am"
PAUL! FLAKE! BASTARDS! Richard gripped his fists and hissed.
"I didn't call for you"
"Still...it won't hurt...to talk"
"You're drunk"
"Der Kessel schilt den Ofentopf"
Till approached the table carefully and eyed it, then decided to sit on the bench. It wasn't strange for him to be scared of crushing things. They sat like this, in silence, looking in different directions. The silence was heavy, like there was a veil, blocking fresh air around them and muting the sounds of nature.
"Reeshart" surprisingly, it was Till who spoke first "What was this thing in the bathroom...? Did you just...do it to get away...?"
Guitarist finished his beer and put the bottle on the table like it was really fragile.
"No"
"Then what?"
"Panic. Confusion. Fear."
"Of what?"
"Of the conversation we're having"
"Or trying to have"
Richard sighed and looked at him tiredly.
"I'm sick of it. I can't do this anymore. But I can't end it as well" he said more to himself than to Till "It's all fucked up and it's a poison. But I'm a masochist and I don't want to let it out. I'm a liar, coward and an idiot"
"Why are you saying that?"
"Because I'm a grown man who can't even control his feelings and who can't admit he cares about someone and wants them and...loves them...and...." Richard shouted, but in the end, his voice faded away, like he was using a dying batter that gave him one last kick of energy
"How long?" Till's voice rang like church bell after few minutes of windy silence
"How long what?"
"How long have you been....feeling like this?"
They understood each other's slurring words only because they were equally stoned.
"Really? Years, I think. Consciously? About a month"
"Same here...but the latter should be a year..."
"What?" Richard's eyes opened wider for the first time, when he looked aside "What...did you say...?"
"The thing was mutual, that's what I say" Till seemed so done with life he didn't even bother "How did you find out?"
Richard blushed a bit. Yet, he knew he'd gone so far and it was point of no return. They'd said A and now had to say B.
"I dreamt...about you. Many times. That's...that's why I avoided you. I was ashamed to look you in the eye"
"You...dreamt...about me? How...?"
"Stop this, Till, you can easily guess! The...wet way" Richard nearly spitted these words out and lit up another cigarette. He handed another one to Till "Treat yourself"
The singer gladly accepted it and lit it up, inhaling the smoke really deep.
"You had wet dreams about me. I'm flattered" he said, rolling a cigarette between his fingers and observing it with fascination. He looked at Richard then and the guitarist shuddered
Lindemann's eyes were way greener than the actual grass around them. More gray-green, like meadow during a spring storm. Widened and darkened, foretelling the arousal.
"What was happening there?" he asked, voice low
"Pffff I'm not drunk enough to tell that" Richard snorted and laughed bitterly
"What do I have to do to convince you then?" Till shifted a bit, now facing Richard
"There's nothing you can do. Let it go"
"Will it help if I tell you that I wouldn't mind being these microphones you keep making love to?"
Richard choked on the cigarette, not sure whether to be shocked or laugh like a madman. But Till was dead serious, observing him darkly.
"Don't you miss Heirate Mich performances?" he asked
Richard sighed deeply. Their song. Paul was involved in the act too but he had behaved differently every time, depending on his mood, while Richard was the one who ALWAYS had accepted Till. Sweet nuzzling, Richard's hand stroking Till's back, bare skin next to fully clothed legs and hips, Richard's triumphant smirk. Or Live Aus Berlin. Cheek to cheek, lips by lips, 'Heirate Mich' breathed out into one microphone, hand on the back again, keeping him close. Begging, whispering 'Marry me' many nights, when Till had been crawling on his fours around the stage before actually stopping by his silver-haired, white-eyed bride and finally get some award for his patience.
"Maybe that was the spark that ignited it" Richard spoke his thoughts out
Till simply nodded. It'd be a terrible lie to say that he'd never perceived Richard as an attractive man. Only a blind, asexual weirdo wouldn't appreciate at least one thing from the set.
Perfectly shaped body. Tall and muscled, but still lean and narrow. Tanned skin, torso with arms smooth like model's. Except his ridiculous curtain-like sheets, he rocked great clothes- shirts with prints, leather, black, tight jeans. Make-up served him more than well and his perfectly done nails were said to make fangirls scream both in pleasure and envy. Some alcohol, some lonely nights, some freefalling thoughts had led his mind to darker places, where he had considered some things. Some dirty things. Silly ones, like kisses and some serious ones, like blowjobs. He was fearless, unafraid Till Lindemann anyway. It'd be a part of his twisted personality to drag Richard into bed and get it on, out of pure (not so much) curiosity.
"So isn't it pretty clear now?" Till spoke, cutting his own thoughts
"You mean...?"
"Ich will dich and du willst mich...Quite simple for me...or are you afraid?"
It wasn't a dare, at least not fully. More like an assuring question. Richard stared at his nails, contemplating their shininess. It went so differently than expected. He expected nervousness and horniness, fear, drama, but there was none of them. Till went a bit closer and Richard surrounded him with arm, like on stage, letting the singer rest his head on his hip and lap. This time, the silence was shared. Richard's hand was involuntarily stroking Till's hair.
"So...wie ist deine Antwort?" Till mumbled into Richard's side
We live only once. He had nothing to lose now anyway. At least dreams would stop.
"But what if...it doesn't work out?"
"I'm sure that Flake and Paul plot another solution"
They both smiled. True. Keyboardist and second guitarist did have their roles in this madness.
"Another question. Where?"
"if there was an occupation, called Professional Cockblock, you'd be accepted at spot, I swear" the singer muttered in annoyance "Tonight, we sleep in the hotel, forgot to mention that"
"Oh...That explains a lot" Richard's surprise wasn't fake, he really didn't know
"So guess we're clear. Now, c'm here, we have a thing to finish"
Till pulled him down into a kiss. Real kiss this time. Deep and slow, tongues dancing curiously. Till tasted of strong vodka and cigarette smoke.
"We can be...seen here" Richard whispered into his mouth, once they broke to catch some breath
"I can't quit you that easily, Kruspe" Till whispered back, moving to his ears "I want a foretaste of the upcoming night..."
This bastard was using a smart trick. His lips were ghosting on Richard's skin, attempting to bite and lick, but barely brushing its surface, yet driving him crazy. Till was teasing him relentlessly, intoxicated and aroused, and Richard's eyes rolled to the back of his head, when he parted his lips in mute moans.
"Till...We have....to go...Time...is out..." he panted, one hand gripping on Till's shoulder, other stopping singer's palm from going to close to his crotch
"Ugh...Okay, okay..." Till looked ridiculously grumpy and Richard felt sorry for being so rational
"I just...forgot to mention...these dreams...involved tying me up..." he whispered right into Till's ear, devilish smirk widening his lips
"Du Teufel..."
Richard straightened his clothes and hair, wiped his mouth, pretending to be all fine. He was slightly more sober too.
"Let's go....We have a concert to play, fans to meet and hangover to cure"
'Wish it could be cured by smacking this fine booty of yours' Till mouthed, eyes following Richard's legendary ass, swaying as he started heading the bus
Richard used whole of his strong will to stop himself from jumping like an excited little girl and squealing. It was happening. It was really happening. Tonight. Oh god, oh god, oh god.
At the bus, they tried to avoid Paul's wiggly eyebrows and Flake's "I so knew this" face. Smug motherfuckers. Bet they wanted to install some cameras as well. Oblivious Schneider and Olli never noticed the glances Richard and Till were exchanging every time they were passing each other by, touching by accident or not. All the buses switched on and drove to the city and pre-concert fever began. Stage building, light installation, pyro effects machinery being prepared and checked. Also showers, makeup, costumes, hair and always present tequila shots before the performance.
"I'd rather say you two had enough today" Paul muttered into his glass
"Shut your piehole, Landers, if you don't want to snack on glass shatters and your own teeth with tequila" Richard warned him in mutter as well, faking a smile
"I love this gentle side of yours, Reesh"
"Do well on stage and you will done even better off it" Till whispered into Richard's ear right before they entered into the stage light, starting their most sexually frustrated show in the history of the band