Der Perfekte Drier (The Perfect Threesome) - A Rammstein Fanfiction

Ein Lied

I wake up in my bed to the morning light trying to make its way into my room. I check my clock and realise it's actually the afternoon sun that's trying to ruin the moment. I look over at the German deity in my bed. A little bit of light illuminated his sleeping face and just...wow.

There were no words to describe how gorgeous he looked. The right amount of light and shadow seemed to chisel his jawline, shoulders and chest to perfection. I roll over slowly to ease myself reluctantly out of bed. I didn't really want to get out of bed but I figured he would prefer not to be woken up with sex, given our strenuous activities last night. Or earlier this morning.

I walked out to the kitchen to boil the kettle and find a cigarette. I managed to find a half empty deck and light one up as my phone vibrates.

"Message me when you're free next"

I half smile and exhale the smoke. A weird fluttery feeling ran through my body, sort of like butterflies in my stomach, but more like an elephant stampede down lower. No not there, but close. What was I feeling? I wondered. I hadn't even noticed that I'd started tapping out a response until it was time to hit send.

I paused. I had a very attractive man in my bed and I was texting another guy. I mean, Till said we weren't exclusive and I told him the feeling was mutual. We enjoyed each other's company and we cared about each other but not only was this extremely new but I knew he had a reputation. God knows I did too. And as much I was feeling a little guilty with my thumb hovering over the "send" button, I was in fifty minds about it. Should I or shouldn't I stoke the fire? I wondered. There was nothing really stopping me except for me.

I put my phone down without pressing send in favour of a simpler task, like brewing coffee. Once my coffee was made, I sat down on my couch and grabbed my notebook. Most people kept a journal of their inner most thoughts. However, an artists' journal was different. A painter might create their best work from a canvas painted in anguish and turmoil. An author might weave their issues into their book...or fanfic. A dancer will leave it all out on the stage. A musician, AKA me, tended to turn to their music when in need of solace from the outside world. Right now? I just wanted to lose myself in my guitar.

My old battered acoustic sat familiarly in my lap as I strummed quietly, careful not to make too much noise. Its blue paint had seen much, much better days and it had plenty of bumps and scratches. Given that it was over 10 years old and my first guitar, it had survived very well. I had quite a few guitars that had all seen their fair share of battle fields, but this one was always my favourite.

I first saw it in my local pawn shop when I was 10 and I knew I had to have it. So I asked the man who ran the shop how much it would cost. He laughed at me but he said he'd give it to me for $100. I'd scraped all my birthday money and allowance together that year and took the guitar home. At the time it was way too big for me and the shop keeper said it was older than I was. But there was something alluring about the black fade to royal blue that I just had to have.

Pissed my mother off to no end but I'd sit down and strum and try to figure out how it all worked. She eventually got sick of me sounding terrible and getting frustrated so she sent me to a music school three nights a week to learn. I learned how to read music, how the body and strings worked together. The more I learned, the more beautiful it all sounded to me. My hands were too small to really work the frets but it didn't stop me. I'd been through several bands from the age of 13, most of which were just garage jam sessions that never seemed to lead anywhere. But I knew from the beginning of Kiss This that there was something there. I wasn't sure what but we sounded different than a jam sesh. We sounded right and we sounded real.

I wasn't playing anything in particular, I was just kind of staring off into space and strummed absent-mindedly. Nothing was really coming to me but I didn't care. I more needed the music than the inspiration. Thoughts kept swirling through my mind, interrupting my musical reverie so I kicked it up a notch. First song that came to mind was 'Heaven Beside You' by Alice In Chains.

I wasn't 100% sure of the notes but eh, fuck it. I got into it as well as I could knowing the few notes of the song I knew and fiddled my way through the rest. Around the first chorus, I was beginning to feel better and started getting cockier. I reached the end of the song and decided to go in a different direction. 'Balls to the Wall' by Accept was the next song to be butchered. It was a song I at least knew the notes to. I got into it, head banging and just...feeling the music. And that's how Till found me; rockin' out half naked in my lounge room to old school German metal.