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“Come on. Tell me who it is!” Richard pesters, poking at Till in the shoulder. “Come on. Who is it! You need to tell me right now!”
“Richard. Go away from me.”
“No Till come on!” he laughed.
“Fine, you know what, I’ll tell you later. I’ll tell you after the show and then you can leave me alone. Good god you’re so irritating!” Till growled, pushing himself to his feet and stormed out of the green room, heading down the hall to where the pyro guys were getting ready for the show. He wanted to be as far away from Richard as he possibly could. He didn’t want to tell him anything because he’d already had that conversation in his head so he knew where it was going and he knew what Richard’s reaction would be. He knew they the younger man would be a little bitch about it and tease him, so it was better for Till to palm him off till later so that eventually, Richard would drink so much that he’d forget he even knew anything in the first place.
“For goodness sake, Dietrich, why did you open your fucking mouth?” he chastises himself, storming off to where he needed to be to get on stage. He could hear Richard somewhere behind him screaming at the top of his lungs that he hadn’t forgotten and he was going to track Till down as soon as the show was over to chat. Till growled, waiting for his cue to go on.
__________________________________________________________________________
The show went off without a hitch and everything ran smoothly, as everyone expected. They had been doing this same show for three months now around Europe so they knew what they were doing, but there was always a worry that someone would miss their cue or something would go wrong.
But Till hadn’t forgotten Richard’s words, and skulked off back to the hotel before anyone could see him, knowing that Richard was definitely going out drinking with Paul and Schneider. Knowing he was safe till at least tomorrow, the singer made his way up to his hotel room and locked himself in. He revelled in the silence and solace the hotel room offered him, free of the idle chatter and harassment of others.
He sat himself on the bed, lying back and letting the plush mattress and pillows pull him in. He had enjoyed the show, but he needed to sleep now. He was exhausted. But he couldn’t stop thinking about Richard. He knew he loved that man, but also knew in his mind that Richard would never reciprocate his feelings. He undressed himself and climbed into the shower, washing the show’s sweat and burnt hairs from near misses from his body. He loved the fire, but by god he’d nearly lost his eyebrows tonight! He rinsed himself off and thought of Richard, letting the warm water wash over his scarred skin. He loved watching Richard on stage, playing the guitar and the sheer concentration on his face during certain songs. He was magical to watch, and Till took every opportunity he could to glance at the guitarist, watching him move around, making beautiful noises, and he loved particularly how much Richard paid attention to his band mates on stage. He couldn’t help but think of how beautiful Richard was, and that smile of his. He knew there was so many levels to that smile. It was always in his eyes. They seemed to change colour depending on the mood Richard was in; Bright and glassy when he was happy, a deep ocean blue when he was sad, and they went almost black when he was aroused, something Till had rarely seen, but noticed around certain women who graced their presence.
He sighed softly, switching the water off and wrapped a soft towel around himself, hearing a knock at the door as he made his way back to the bedroom. “Hold on!” he called out, searching for a pair of trousers.
“It’s me! I’ve seen it all before, open up!” came Richard’s voice. An involuntary growl came from Till’s throat as he felt defeat upon him. He made his way to the door, pulling it open to be greeted by Richard, eyes bloodshot from too much alcohol, which you could smell on him, and that impish grin on his face as he pushed past the singer, moving straight for the bed. “Why do you always get a better room than the rest of us?!” Richard demanded, groaning softly as he curled up on the duvet, pulling the heavy duvet corners so that he was cocooned in the sheets.
“It’s no different from your room. You’ve not even been in your room yet.” Till returned, moving to put some pants on, as well as some shorts, ready for bed. He turned and looked at Richard, lying still wrapped up in the duvet, eyes closed. He hummed happily at the warmth enveloping him, and Till couldn’t help but smile. He moved to sit on the bed next to Richard, sighing softly. “Did you have a nice evening?” he asked, watching him.
“Weren’t bad. You weren’t there though, and I know why. You still have something to tell me.” Richard frowned, sitting up next to the singer, duvet still wrapped around him. “So, who is it Dietrich. Tell me or I’ll be forced to be completely unreasonable until you tell me.”
“Wait, you’re not being unreasonable now?” Till grimaced, looking over at him with wide eyes, groaning softly.
“I’m being wholly reasonable right now! How dare you! I’ve not smothered you once yet! Though I am in prime smothering position at the moment. So Till, tell me who it is! I must know because it’s been driving me crazy all day.” Richard says softly.
Till sighed softly. “Okay.” He said softly. Richard was drink so he might be more cooperative to his idea. “I need you to close your eyes for me, and count to ten.” he said softly, swallowing hard.
“Not. A. Problem. My eyes are pretty heavy anyway. But be quick, I might be asleep soon…” he laughed softly, his lids shutting quickly.
Till looked over him, biting his lip, listening to his voice count down from ten to one. Was he really brave enough to do this? Did he really want to change the dynamics of his relationship with this man, this beautiful man? He really wanted nothing more than to kiss him. Richard grew closer, Veir... Drei... Zwei... He sighed softly, moving forward, gently pressing his lips to the other man’s. Those lips felt like heaven against his, and he then slowly, reluctantly, pulled away, opening his eyes to look at the other.
“Oh.” Was all Richard said, still wrapped tightly in the duvet. He looked away from Till and down into his lap. “W-well it explains a lot of things…”
“I’m sorry.” Till said softly, slowly getting to his feet. “I shouldn’t have! I’m sorry.”
“N –no. No Till it’s okay.” Richard said softly, slowly getting to his feet. “I guess I was so interested because I kind of wanted it to be me.” He admitted, biting his lip. “I had an idea anyway…” he laughed softly, dropping the duvet to the floor. He looked at the singer, slowly moving forward to press a kiss to his lips.
Till couldn’t believe this, slowly pulling away. “Shut up. You’re having me on.” He laughed softly.
“No. No, I’m one hundred percent serious!” Richard laughed, moving back to take a seat on the bed. “I can’t stop watching you on stage and I always want to be close to you and spend time with you but you’re so stubborn and distant and sometimes I just want to smack you but I think I want this too.” He smiled, slowly taking the singers hand. “Sit with me. Please.”
Till did as he was told, sitting next to Richard on the bed and couldn’t stop himself from smiling. He looked over at Richard and his whole body filled with happiness. He couldn’t stop himself, leaning in to press another kiss to the guitarist’s mouth, a very uncharacteristic move for Till Lindemann, but he didn’t care. He wanted nothing more than to spend the night with this man, kissing him and holding him and loving him.
The two spent the evening curled up in the bed, watching terrible television and holding each other. They kissed and explored, but went no further. Till never imagined that this was how it would be. He never imagined Richard would feel the same of him, but he was so happy.