We're owl exterminators (shadow_hive) wrote,
We're owl exterminators
shadow_hive

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Du Hast

Du Hast
Pairing: Chris Motionless/Till Lindemann, Peter Tägtgren
Rating: NC-17
POV: Till
Warnings: Sex mostly
Notes: So I wanted to do a Till fic awhile, this isn't what I expected to be the first but, well...

"They aren't that bad." Peter leaned in to me, whispering in my ear between songs. The band on the stage below was largely unfamiliar to me. They were Motionless In White, a group of Americans that played what pasted for rock music over there. I had came to see them, mostly, because they had done a cover of one of Rammstein's songs. It turned out to be one of the better ones, the singer even doing it in German despite not being a speaker.

So when I heard they were doing a few dates in Germany on their tour, I figured I should bring Peter along to the last date, to see what these guys were like. There were six members of the band, all guys, and my eyes had been instantly drawn to the singer. He was tall, slim and dressed all in black. He had a certain stage presence and certainly knew how to get the crowd going. Their music wasn't too bad either.

The set drew to a close with a performance of their cover and it made my dick hard, hearing someone else sing our words.

Once the song was over I leaned over and growled in Peter's ear. "Bring the car around." He smirked and with a nod he was gone. I looked out over the stage below, watching the band members filter off stage, after throwing guitar pics out at the crowd. I gave myself a few moments, then headed towards the backstage area. Of course security knew me, so I was easily let through.

Practically right away, I ran into the tall boy and he gasped, his eyes wide as he looked at me. "You... You're Till! I mean..." He took a breath. "Wow, I can't believe you're..."

"You will come with me." I cut him off, in a tone that warranted no argument or discussion. I didn't wait for a response, turning to head through the venue to the side exit. Weather he followed me or not was up to him. If he didn't it would make no difference to me.

Footsteps behind me told me he had decided to follow.

"Where are we going?" He asked, the question confirming it. I couldn't help but smirk at that.

"We are going back to my place." I replied simply, before pushing the door open and stepping into the cool night air. The door opened into an alleyway, tucked away alongside the venue. As there wasn't the space for buses here, I knew it would be quiet here. Indeed, no one was here apart my from my car with Peter in the driving seat. I turned on my heel to face the tall singer, his eyes still wide as he looked at me. "You have a choice now. You can get in the car or you can turn around and go back inside to your little band."

He made this little noise as he took an intake of breath. He looked like he was processing that information, wondering exactly what this all meant. No doubt he was weighing his options up, and I gave him a minute to do so.

He started walking towards the backseat of the car and when he reached out to open it, I grabbed his arm, pushing it away. "What the fuck do you think you're doing?"

He looked at me, his face baffled. "But you said..."

"I know what I said." I nodded to Peter in the front seat and the boot of the car opened up. I spoke my next words slowly and deliberately. "Get. In. The. Car."

His eyes darted from me to the back of the car and, for a moment, I thought he was going to change his mind and run back inside. Of course the door we'd come through was closed now so if he did he would have to go through the main back door which would no doubt have a crowd waiting for him. I saw him take a deep breath and then he moved towards the boot. I gave him a nod, watching as he climbed inside.

His tall frame pretty much filled the whole space and he had to curl around himself to fit. Once I was sure he was... Well, comfortable wasn't quite the right word, I closed the boot lid on him and made my way into the passenger seat of the car. As I fastened my seat belt, I glanced over at Peter who was smirking. "Let's get going."

I turned on some music as he started the car up, driving off into the night.

***

It took us just over 45 minutes to get to my house. We could have gotten there a little sooner, but I made Peter take a few extra turns when we were almost there. Peter pulled the car up into my driveway and, as soon as he stopped the car, I undid my seatbelt and got out. Peter stayed inside, turning the music off as I circled round the the rear of the car. I gave him a nod and my partner pressed the button which raised the boot up, revealing the singer who was curled up just as I left him. He looked up at me, blinking as his eyes adjusted to the change of light. "Get out."

I stepped aside to give him the space to move and I watched as he shuffled around. He swung his legs out first, planting both his feet on the ground. Bracing himself against the sides of the car, he rose to his feet, until he was standing at his full height. I saw him circle his neck and shoulders, to take away the ache at being confined in such a small space. Satisfied, I slammed the boot shut, hearing Peter get out.

"What's going to happen?" The singer, Chris, asked, his voice soft. It was a good question and I hadn't told him he couldn't speak or anything like that.

"Would do you think is going to happen?" I countered, keeping my eyes on his.

"Well, I don't think you bought me here to talk about music." He let out a small laugh, then shuffled on his feet, glancing sidelong at the rear of the car. "I think you bought me here to..." He looked back to me and he looked like he was trying to find the words. "To use me." I saw him swallow, before adding. "Sexually."

"Oh really?" I raised an eyebrow and he looked a little uncertain, like he was worried now that he had said the wrong thing. "And is that something you want?"

He let out a breath, which was visible in the cool night air. "Yeah. It is." The look in his eyes was sure, certain, which was good enough for me.

"Good, then follow me." I led the way up the drive to where Peter stood at the door waiting for us. Out of the corner of my eye I saw that Chris was looking at him, a puzzled expression on his face. It took me a second to realise it was because he'd not yet seen him. "This is Peter, you will show him the same respect you show me." Chris nodded and I pulled out my keys, unlocking the door to admit the three of us.

I turned the light on and the three of us removed our shoes, Chris following our lead. "Do you want something to drink?" Peter asked, looking over at our guest.

"I... Sure." Chris replied after glancing at me and Peter went into the kitchen to grab something for us. Chris was looking around the place, clearly unsure what to do, so I led him into the living room, gesturing for him to take a seat. "I... What did you think of the show?"

"Better than I expected." I replied, and I saw the small smile on his face. "I give you credit for singing in German before a German crowd like that." He nodded as Peter came in with the drinks, three glasses of something that was sweet and fizzy. Peter liked it and it was non-alcoholic so I could keep my wits about me, after all I wanted to remember this. "Pretty impressive too considering you're not a fluent speaker. One of the better covers."

He looked pleased by my words. "Thanks so much!" Peter handed him his drink and Chris smiled to him. "Thanks." Peter sat down beside me and we all took a drink. Chris looked between us and I could see the question in his eyes before he said it. "So are you two... a couple?"

"In a manner of speaking." I replied, glancing sidelong at Peter, who smiled. We had worked together a lot over the years, especially on my Lindemann stuff and, as such, we had gotten close. It happened often in bands, mostly because you'd spend so much time together and in such close proximity. Things were always bound to happen, even though most would not admit it. I bet our guest had done things with his bandmates too, probably that little guitarist of his. "Now to you." I took a drink, leaning forward in my seat. "Have you ever been fucked?"

He squirmed slightly in his seat, his trousers creaking from the movement. "Er... Yeah. I have."

"Of course you have. I bet a pretty thing like you has been bent over more times than you can count." He shifted in his place again and I smirked at him. "I bet you're a cheap little whore huh?"

"I..."

"Well? Are you a whore or not?" He swallowed and I shifted forward in my seat, so that that I was even closer to him. "I expect an answer when I ask you a question."

I saw him take a deep breath and he nodded. "Yeah, you're right. I am a whore. I take it from anyone that wants my ass." His eyes darted down towards the floor as he made the admission and I couldn't help but chuckle at that.

"Of course you are. Hurry up and finish your drink, then you can show me just how much of a slut you are." He nodded and I watched as he downed what was left of his drink. Eager. Good. "You will call me Hure and Peter here you will refer to as Herre." I caught Peter's knowing smirk at my choice of words, which didn't mean what the boy probably expected them too. "Understand?"

"Yes Hure." He replied, careful to pronounce the new word correctly.

"Good, now, let's see you. Strip." I leaned back in my seat, sipping my drink.

Chris rose up, reaching down and gripped his t-shirt, pulling the material up and off to expose his chest. He was slim and his skin was pale, neither of which was a surprise. His tattoos were mostly on his arms, with a few around his neck and a pair on his hips. His fingers went to his flies and he undid them, popping the button and then tugging down the zipper. He pushed his trousers down his legs and then hooked his thumbs under his boxers, pushing them down to the floor. He was semi hard and looked to be a decent size, for an American anyway. He stepped out of his trousers and boxers, pushing them both to one side.

"Good. Now, on your fucking knees. I'm sure it's a position you're very familiar with." His cheeks flushed again and I smirked, setting my empty glass down on the table beside me.

"Yes Hure." He whispered, head bowed, gaze on the floor. Good, at least he knew some respect.

"Now, why don't you be a good little slut and get my dick out, hmm?" I asked, parting my legs nice and wide for him.

"Of course, Hure." He leaned in close, reaching up with his gloved fingers and undoing my flies. Like with his own, the button was undone first and then the zipper followed. He pressed the heel of his hand against the bulge of my dick. A low groan escaped my lips, as his fingers opened my flies up and I lifted my ass up enough so he could tug my trousers down to my knees. I saw him swallow as he caught sight of my bulge. He hooked his fingers beneath the waistband of my boxers and pulled them down, a soft gasp escaping his lips as my dick was revealed to him.

"What's up slut? Haven't you seem a real man's cock before?" I couldn't help but smirk as I said that. Most Americans that I had seen were just so... small. It wouldn't surprise me if mine was the biggest he'd ever seen. "Well, are you just going to stare at it or are you going to suck it?"

"Yes Hure. Sorry Hure." He leaned in close and I watched as he ran his tongue from the base of my dick up along my length towards my head. The metal of his lip rings brushed against my sensitive skin as his lips parted to envelope the tip of my cock. His tongue lapped against it, probing my foreskin gently. Had he ever been with a guy with any? Probably not, Americans were strange like that. I felt him inhale and then he took me into his pretty mouth. His lips inched down my dick and he pressed his tongue up against me. Like I suspected, he was clearly no stranger to a cock down his throat.

Beside me, Peter rose from his seat. I doubted Chris noticed, his pretty face framed by my thighs as he struggled to take me down. He was doing his best, and he'd managed just over half before he pulled back, inhaling a quick breath through his nose. To his credit, he was soon back down on me, taking more this time. His pretty lips were slick with saliva, his multiple lip rings pressing against the flesh of my dick.

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw that Peter was undoing his own flies, pushing his trousers down his legs, exposing his perfect dick. He had foregone underwear for the evening, though that was nothing new, so his cock just flopped out, firm and erect, as soon as he'd pushed his trousers open. He reached for the table, where we kept a bottle of lube just in case we wanted to do anything down here. It saved us making several trips upstairs over the years.

A low groan left my lips, as Chris flicked his soft, wet tongue against me. He had a little mouth of my dick between his pretty lips, and I smirked at the sight of him. "Come on now slut, you can do better than that." I purred, threading my fingers through the short crop of his hair. His head bobbed, in what I assumed was an approximation of a nod. He shifted back slightly, until just my head was between his slick lips. I felt him take a breath and our eyes met, determination clear in his eyes. His lips sank down my erection, going past the point he had reached before. I resisted the urge to just grab his head and shove him down on me. His eyes were pricked with tears as he went down further, his nose pressing against the thick curls that surrounded my dick. His lips were now wrapped around my base and he looked beautiful like that. "That's it, good whore..."

He hummed around me, staying in place as long as he was able before he started to bob his head on my length, steadily moving back and then taking it back down. He took me almost fully each time now, twisting his tongue and humming around me, probably to the beat of one of his songs.

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw that Peter had slicked his fingers up with lube and the sight made my hole twitch on reflex. He gave me a look, smirking in a way that made me think he knew what my reaction was. Bastard. I looked back to Chris, letting out a low growl before speaking. "Move so you're up on all fours, but don't take your lips off my dick." He gave me a slightly puzzled expression with half my dick down his throat. He complied, placing his hands on my thighs as he shuffled his knees back so that his ass was up in the air. As requested, he kept his lips wrapped around my dick and, when he was in position, he resumed sucking me off.

Peter moved around, stepping over Chris' outstretched left leg and then he reached down, grabbing his ass with his unlubed hand. Chris moaned around me and I gripped onto his head, holding him in place. "Just keep on sucking slut." Peter smirked at my words and sank his middle finger into the boy stretched between us. I wondered when the boy last got fingered. Probably recently, by that pretty little guitarist of his. Peter added a second finger already, which made me suspect I was right. He groaned around my stiff cock, suckling around it, his eyes lidding as Peter worked both fingers in him.

"This one's such a fucking whore." Peter told me in his native tongue, so that Chris wouldn't understand. "Takes it so fucking easily, he clearly gets boned a lot."

"Think we're not the first to have him today?" I replied back to , keeping my hand on Chris' head as he sucked me.

"Oh definitely. The little fuck has been screwed today." I saw him twist his wrist as he said that, his fingers deep in the boy. Chris made a little choked noise around me, probably in response to the fingers. "Should be ready for me in a few."

I smirked, looking down at the puzzled Chris, his lips around my head. "Peter was just telling me what a slut you are." I told him, switching back to English. "So he is going to sink balls deep in you." Peter removed his fingers as I spoke, lining himself up. "You're going to stay right the e as he does, understand?" He nodded slightly, as best he could given his current position.

I kept his head in place, watching as Peter pulled his cheeks apart and pushed inside. I felt Chris groan, sending vibrations through my dick. My eyes were on Peter, watching as he filled the American boy with his amazing cock. I loved watching him fuck other guys. It was so hot to watch his dick slide in and out. He sank balls deep into him easily, despite his girth. He wasn't quite as big as I was, but he was pretty big, certainly bigger than the boy between us.

Peter started moving, thrusting at a steady pace within him. I gave Chris a few moments to adjust to being filled by Peter's cock, knowing he'd need it. I watched as Peter moved his hips, drawing his dick out and then planting it back in the boy. The sight soon became too much and I started to push his head back down on my dick. He groaned around my dick and I felt him relax, letting me take control. He flicked his tongue occasionally and squeezed his lips, but he was content to let me control the movements of his head.

The little slut looked so good like this, a dick down his throat, another up his ass. It was like he was made for it, he was taking us both so well, rolling his hips back against Peter, humming softly around my dick. If the band breaks up he'd be all set to do gay porn.

He was bringing me off with his mouth, drooling as I held it in place with my dick fully down his throat. It took him a good few beats until he started gagging around me and I held him there for just a few moments longer, enjoying the feeling around me. I pushed him back so he just had my head between his lips, allowing him a few deep breaths through his nose.

Peter was thrusting harder now, making the boy squirm beneath him. I was sure Chris needed to touch himself, but he was being so well behaved. His gloved hands were still on my thighs, holding on as I steadily moved his head. I could feel myself get closer, his lips drawing a moan from my own.

"You can cum." Peter growled in German, ramming his dick home. "I know you want to, this little whore is practically begging for it. Literally gagging for it." Those last words he said in English, so the slut could hear and understand.

I smirked, pushing Chris' head back down, my fingers digging into his scalp as his tongue lapped at me. A few moments of that, coupled with the sight of Peter pounding him, was all it took to draw my orgasm from me. I growled, shooting down his throat, pushing him back so that he could taste it.

"Good boy." Peter purred in Swedish, eyes on mine. He bought a hand up, pushing my hands off Chris' head and taking ahold of it himself. He pulled Chris' head back by the hair, until his back was pressed against Peter's chest. "Now, you are going to touch yourself cunt. I expect you to cum before I do or not at all."

"Yes Herre." Chris whispered, voice broken from having sucked me for so long. His right hand went straight to his dick, stroking it the second he got ahold of it. I'd have chuckled, but I was feeling breathless.

I raised my ass up from my seat, pulling my boxers and trousers back up before sitting back and enjoying the show. The main sight, of course, was Chris working his dick. His gloved hand was pumping his dick and it looked like he was moving it as quick as it would go. Peter's hand kept his head tilted back, exposing the inked skin of his throat. His lips were wet and shiny, his eyes half lidded and his body trembled whenever Peter thrust back into him.

It would be interesting if he managed to cum before Peter did. He wasn't lying in that he wouldn't let him get off if he didn't manage it. He would sometimes give me the same challenge and I'd always fail, despite trying my best.

They were both making such pretty sounds, gasps and moans as their bodies met and parted. Chris shuddered, and then a groan left his lips as he came, spilling across the pale skin of his belly.

Peter chuckled as he looked down at Chris' stomach. "The little slut has done better than you my love." He spoke in Swedish, smirking before switching to English. "Clean yourself up."

Chris nodded, apparently unable to form a verbal response, which was understandable. He dragged his gloved fingers through his cum, bringing it up to his lips and sucking the pearly fluid from them.

Peter thrust into him a few more times, before he let out a familiar grunt, cursing in his native tongue. I couldn't see of course, but I knew that he had came deep in the goth boy's body. Probably not the first Swede to have laid claim to him. Peter licked a path along his neck, then sank his teeth into the soft flesh, just above his ink, no doubt to leave a mark.

He stayed in him for a few moments, before easing out of him and going to get his own trousers. He nodded to me, then pulled them up his legs. Following his lead, I spoke up to Chris. "Get dressed, then you can have a quick drink before we drop you at the hotel."

He nodded, eyes wide, breath soft and ragged. "Thank you Hure and Herre." As soon as Peter was sat back next to me he started gathering up his clothing, putting them on one at a time. Maybe next time they come by on their tour Peter would let him stay the night, use some of our myriad toys. As he dressed my eyes fell to his soft dick and I couldn't help but think it would look nice in a cage.

Just like mine would be once he was gone.
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