Bad again ~ Paulchard Fanfiction

Chapter 18

"Feeling better?" Richard had almost forced Paul to sit in a bar, a bit more frequented one. They spent almost twenty minutes arguing because Paul had no intention at all to eat nor drink anything. Only after Richard's threat to call Flake, the smallest decided to order something. "What do you want to eat?" Richard smiled, stroking Paul's knuckle and kissing his fingers. "I don't know, if I eat it's just because I don't want to feel bad again, or...for Flake to come here and yell at me." He sighed and shook his head. The lead guitarist smiled at him. "Paulie, he's just worried for you. And so am I. Sugars and sweets is exactly what you need right now."
Paul closed the menu and left it aside. "Listen, Richard, let's talk...seriously right now." The lead guitarist took his hand away and nodded. "Go on, I'm listening to you. I too have to ask you something."

"Why...why did you start drink again?"
"I'm ashamed of this, Paulie. I began to think of myself, what my life had come to. And everything...I could only think about my past, the shitty one. I could always forget anything, with the alcohol. At first it was just, a drink or two. Then a bottle a week. One every day and too soon everything went downstairs. I hated to feel that way but it was the only thing that was keeping me sane, but...I'm sorry okay? I shouldn't have start again. Help me, Paulchen."

The shortest was speechless. "Paul, please, help me be a better person. We can help each other." Paul giggled and nodded. "Yes, sure! That's an amazing idea!" He leaned forward and kissed the tallest.
He simply loved him. His smile, his laugh. And his taste, oh, that taste which stayed on those sweet, warm, perfect lips. Richard could have spent his whole life doing anything but kissing Paul, over and over again. Until his death. And then he would have waited to join him and start all over again; kissing, cuddling, make love to him.
Real love this time and not using...no. That wasn't using him. He had almost abused him. What kind of person had he become.
He pulled away almost too roughly, because Paul looked at him with a sad expression. "Is everything okay..?" The smallest asked sitting back. "Yes, sorry." Richard lit up a cigarette and huffed the smoke. "I was just thinking."

"What was it?"
"Mh? What was...what?"
"The question you had, you know? You told me..."
"Oh, yeah, yes. Sorry."

He cleared his throat. "When...how did your panic attacks begin? What happened?"
It sounded weird. So damn awkward. He blushed, without Paul talking and looked away. The shortest was surprised and had rose his eyebrows, scratching the back of his head. "Uhm, well...it's kinda embarrassing, you know?" He chuckled, getting Reesh's attention again.
"It happened like twenty years ago. I was in my twenty's. I think it was before the fall of the Berlin Wall. Yes, nineteen eighty four. I was twenty. It was my birthday and we were just...fooling around. Me and Flake. Actually the whole Feeling B band and friends. I drank, pretty much and was dancing around, in the middle of the street!"
Richard chuckled. "Typical Paul, uh?" Paul blushed and shrugged. "Yes, you're right." He let the waitress take their orders and went on.
"I wasn't listening, I was shouting like an Eagle and I didn't even notice that Flake and Aljoscha were trying to warn me. I was hit by a car and I had to go to the hospital. I have attacks since then."
He shrugged and sipped on the mug of hot chocolate. "You risked your life! Aren't you scared?" Richard took his cake and send the waiter away. "Well, with you and Till and the others, I mean. What can go wrong?"
The lead guitarist swallowed. "I'm sorry, Paulie. I didn't know."

"Oh, It's okay, dear."
"You...what happened to you, after the...accident?"
"Well...I...fell in a coma for a.... few months. I broke my legs and few other things."
"And Flake?"
"He came visit me almost everyday. Well, that's what they told me, I was...you know?"

He chuckled and finished the chocolate.
"That's terrible, Liebchen." Paul coughed and took the fork from Richard's hand and stole his bite of cake. Schwarzwald Torte.
"Delicious, Reeshy. Amazing taste." He grunted in surprise when the tallest pulled him close again, dragging him from the shirt and pressed his lips again the shortest's, again. He licked his lower lip asking for entrance, which he immediately gained. Their tongues wrestle, fighting for dominance. Paul loved to fight him, to win, but he loved to lose against Richard. In that way, being submitted in a lovely, attentive way.
"It tastes even better in your mouth. It's so warm, God. How can you taste so good, honey?"
"Shut up and keep kiss me." Paul sat on the youngest's legs and wrapped his arms around Richard's neck. They were hidden by the wall, but none of them cared if someone could see them.
"Paulie, do you ever think about Aljoscha or Christoph?" Paul kissed his neck and rose to his jaw, leaving hickies on the pale skin of the youngest. "Sometimes I do, yes." He answered straighten up. "I miss them and...I try to don't think about it. I don't want to forget but at least I have Flake and you and the others." He stroked the tallest's spiked hair. "Can we go home now? I want to cuddle with you." He asked, feeling Reesh's hands rise up, making their way under his shirt.
"I'd love to, but...my home's a mess, Paulie." Richard apologised. "But I can give you extra cuddles if you help me tidy up a bit. Please."
"Of course, with pleasure, Richard."
Despite their agreement, Paul had no intention at all to move nor stand up. It was too comfortable, sitting on the youngest's legs, feeding him the cake, just to have an excuse to kiss him, saying "let me taste if it's as good as the bite before". And Richard never stopped him or pulled away. He had felt so relieved when Paul had kissed him for the first time and he couldn't get enough. Never enough, always more. More and more.
"Now we can go." Richard announced, once the cake was finished.

"Well, shit!" Paul was speechless. Richard's home looked like a battlefield. Cans, empty packet of cigarettes, leftovers and empty glass bottles were everywhere. On the floor, couch, table.
The windows were closed and so the curtains. "This place look abandoned!" Paul commented, covering his nose. There was an unbearable smell. "Jesus..." He coughed and opened the two windows in the living room, the one in the kitchen and the small one in the bathroom. "Let's work here, first. We'll move upstairs later." Paul suggested, taking off his coat and boots and going on his tip toes to kiss the tallest. Richard cracked a smile and blushed.
It took them almost three hours to clean the whole house and the evening was running by. They were now both laying on Richard's bed, on fresh, new bed sheets. The shortest's was curled under his arm, head resting on the other's shoulder, tracing a wet path on his neck. Richard's hands were resting on the shortest back and hip, holding back from grinding against Paul's groin.
He surely wouldn't enjoy that.
"I love you so much, Paulchen. You saved me from myself, you're handsome, smart, funny! God, I'll be lost without you!" Paul smiled in the kiss and sighed. "I know what you want, Reesh, and I'm glad you're waiting."
"Of course, honey. This..." Richard grunted at a sudden, loud beeping. "Your phone's beeping. Answer before Till send the police." He joked and let go of the shortest, who moved toward the bedside table to answer his mobile.
"Oh, Christ." He swore and let the device fall on his chest. "What's wrong?!" Richard sat up and worried, stroking his arm. "Till texted me. Doom is in an induced coma. This thing of waking up and passing out was having bad repercussions on his brain. They'll have to fix it. But for at least...two months he's out."
The bed creaked due to the sudden shifting of weight, when Richard left.
The mood was gone now. He was a fucking murderer. He had killed Schneider, he was sure he would have died. Because of him! Because of his selfish self.
Is it really your fault, Richard? Think a minute.
Who caused everyone to turn against you?
Who fooled you and mocked you?
Exactly. You have no fault, but he has!
"Richard, hey, are you okay?" The lead guitarist smacked Paul's hand away, before he could touch him. "This is all your fucking fault!" He snapped, turning to him. "You really had to go cry in Flake's arms about how miserable you are and blaming it on me, didn't you!?"

"Reesh...what the hell?"
"You're the only reason why he's dying, it's all your fault! Why couldn't you shut your mouth for once?!"

The shortest frowned and shook his head. The corners of his mouth aiming downward. "You're exactly like him..." He whispered, clenching his fists. "Why am I not surprised..." He laced his boots and put his coat on, under Richard's confused, now guilty look.
Why did he say that!? How could he blame him!?
Why, Richard, why?! After everything he had done for you!
"Paulie..." His throat felt so dry. He was losing him! No, no, he couldn't permit it! But he felt stuck. Froze on his spot. Cold sweat was running down his back and face. "Thanks..." The smallest managed to say once he was ready to leave. "Paul, please, I didn't mean..."
"I don't want to listen! Of course it's my fault, who else!?" He snapped and the youngest shut his mouth, looking down ashamed. "You begged me to trust you and give you a chance! Now that I did...you're turning everything against me! You two would have been best friends." He shook his head. "See you around, Zven." And with that he left.
And Richard knew he had caused everything, but most of all he was aware of the attacks he would have cause to Paul with this action.