Weddings

Chapter 16

Paul walked towards his apartment, concentrating more on finding his keys than where he was going. Emil was chatting away by his side, occasionally stopping to ask whether his father was listening. Where are those keys?

"Look, Dad! Are you listening? No..? You're out of order, do you know that? You make things awkward at Till's by arguing with Richard, which everyone knows is only ever a waste of time, then you make me wait about an hour.."

"It wasn't an hour." Paul grumbled, still fishing in his pockets.

"about an hour while you talk, and god knows what else you did, to Schneider. And now you won't even listen to me!"

Paul stopped searching for his keys and swung round to face his son, "I'm sorry, Emil. I am sorry you feel neglected! I was searching for my keys, but of course you have my full attention. We can just sleep here in the hall, okay?"

"Fine! Look for your keys!" Paul resumed his increasingly frantic search, gently swearing as they turned the final corner in the approach to his apartment. "Dad?" Emil piped up. "Dad. Look."

"Not now, Emil." Paul mumbled, trying his jean pockets again, just in case his apartment key had magically appeared there since he last checked.

"No, Dad. Look!"

"Not the best time, kid."

"Dad!" Emil hissed.

"What?" Paul turned to glare impatiently at his son, but immediately saw the reason for Emil's concern. They had a visitor.

Richard leaned against Paul's door, one had raised towards his chest, fiddling with something. Paul looked closer. Are they.. my keys! Oh.. Oh shit.

"So.." Richard began. "How about I give you these, you invite me in, we talk for ten seconds about the band while Emil goes to his room, then you can tell me all about you and Schneider. How does that sound?"

Paul gulped, nodding uncertainly as he reached forward and took the keys from Richard's hand. Emil scowled at Richard, pushing in front of him as they entered the flat. "Send me to bed like a child!" He murmured, seeming irritated when Richard didn't respond to his silent protest. "I'm an adult, you know? I live here too! I should choose my own bedtime!"

"Yes, Emil. Thank you." Paul's curt answer cut through any arguments that might have started, leaving his son confused as to how he should respond. "I'll see you in the morning?" Paul turned to Richard, wishing his son away. I don't want you to hear this, kid.

"Fine." Emil turned and stalked towards his room, leaving the two guitarists stood alone, unsure of where to begin.

"So.. you fucked Schneider?" Ah, there. We begin there, do we?

"No." Paul smiled falsely, trying to send Richard the warning signals that this topic was not up for discussion.

"He fucked you?" Richard stepped closer, narrowing the gap between them into a small, intimate space.

"None of your business."

"No then. He wants to fuck you?"

"None of your business." Paul ground out.

"Yes then." Richard quirked an eyebrow. "And would you like that?" He moved closer, forcing Paul to turn his head to the side for more room. "Does little Paul get hard thinking about it?"

"Richard." Paul's tone of voice was a clear warning to the younger man.

"Do you like the thought of Schneider pinning you down? Fucking you?"

"Stop." Paul started to back away, but Richard just moved forward, ignoring his protests.

"No. No you don't. And do you know why?"

"Yes." Paul whispered. Just say it. Acknowledge my feelings so this can all be over.

"Because you will never have a fuck like me again." Richard growled.

"Richard, please." Paul's back pressed against the living room wall, trapping him against Richard's chest.

"I want you Paulie. I want you, and you owe me an apology for that shitstorm you just created."

"I know. I'm sorry."

"Not good enough."

"Then what is?" Paul's eyes flickered to the door, searching for escape. Schneider wouldn't do this. Why was Richard so hard to appease?

"You." Richard growled, stooping to bite Paul's neck. Oh shit!

Richards caresses were harsh and loveless, not at all tender or thoughtful like those of the drummer. Paul wanted to shout, to tell Richard to fuck off, but his mouth was occupied by his friend's tongue, and his mind couldn't really think of much other than how good it felt to have Richard kissing him again. The pair's lips parted for just a moment, long enough for Paul to whimper Richard's name and beg him for one last fuck. "Fuck me. Please!"

Richard rutted against Paul, panting as he tore off the smaller man's shirt and tackled his belt buckle. He pushed Paul harder against the wall, sucking and gently biting his nipples, nails raking across his ribs. "No." He finally spoke, voice hoarse. "Not this time."

"Wh-What?" Paul stuttered, unsure of what was happening.

"This time you're gonna fuck me." Richard panted, spinning them so he was the one pressed to the wall. "Like you tried to fuck me before. You fuck me, then we're even. Understand?" Richard undid his clothes, pulling Paul in for another one of those addictive, hot kisses. "You fuck me, Paul, and I won't hear another word about you and Schneider leaving the band. I make you happy, you make him happy, and he makes me happy by rejoining. Yes?"

Paul really felt like he should say no, but then Richard dropped his trousers, revealing his erection, rubbing against his belly, already beginning to leak. Fuck. Who could say no to that? He nodded softly, eyes trailing up and down Richard's muscular, tanned body and flushed chest.

"Yes. I think we have a deal."

Richard smirked. "Good. Let's get down to business then."