Chapter Text
Christoph opened his suitcase and dumped its content on the floor. The smell was pungent and hit him straight in the nose.
“For fuck’s sake…” Christoph waved his hands around him to get the smell away. It made hardly any difference. How long had they been on the tour again?
With a resigned sigh he kneeled down on the floor and started sorting the dirty clothes into piles. He worked methodically. Materials, colors, extra dirty, not very dirty - just like his mother taught him.
Halfway through Christoph noticed that the heap in front of him wasn’t as big as it usually was after such a long tour. He could’ve sworn he had packed a lot more shirts and sweaters than were laid in front of him. He looked through his luggage again for any forgotten garments, but it was empty. It was all the clothes he brought back from the tour. And almost half of his shirts were missing. Including his favorite black sweater with extra long sleeves.
Christoph signed in annoyance. He knew who took his beloved shirt. It wasn’t the first time something like that happened and it was always the same perpetrator who never seemed to learn his lesson. Christoph stood up and grabbed his keys on the bedside table… Including the key to Paul’s apartment.
****
Paul Landers was lying on his side, his small frame enveloped in Christoph’s long sleeved black shirt. The sleeves covered the entirety of his small hands. Paul buried his nose in the collar of the shirt where he could smell Christoph’s expensive cologne and unique musky, manly odor.
A small, high pitched sigh escaped Paul’s slightly parted lips as the smell filled his nose. One of his hands took a firm hold on the bottom of Christoph’s large shirt but his other hand traveled somewhere way less appropriate.
Paul’s hand made its way underneath Christoph’s shirt where he was completely naked. The shirt was so long that it covered Paul’s smooth, pale skin down to mid thigh and over his pert ass. His bare legs were on full display against the black covering of the bed.
Paul bit his lip almost violently and felt a surge of heat spread through his entire body a he closed his fingers around his soft cock. The guitarist gave a tentative tug on his cock which sent little sparks of need though his frame. Paul’s steel blue eyes scrunched closed, adorable wrinkles fanning at the corners of his eyes.
The small man took a shaky breath that sounded more like a desperate whine as he started stroking his cock up and down. Paul’s grip on the bottom of Christoph’s shirt tightened as images in his mind went completely wild.
“Christoph…” Paul whispered under his breath.
Since their first meeting back in the Feeling B days, Paul had always fantasized about being with Christoph. Right from the start, the guitarist had been totally and poignantly charmed by the tall drummer. It was everything about his physical appearance that had caught Paul’s attention. From his fluffy, lush curls to his cold blue eyes and his stern, authoritative features, Christoph’s looks had instantly made Paul melt.
After all these years together and everything they learned about each other, Paul grew to love Christoph beyond reason. It was Christoph’s patient and comforting behaviour towards Paul that stole his heart and the way he listened to him when no one else would.
Paul had stilled his hand on his cock but resumed his actions when he again buried his little, pointy nose in the fabric of Christoph’s shirt. The guitarist’s fingers tightened on the velvety skin of his dick as a very naughty thought crossed his mind.
An embarrassingly loud moan escaped from Paul’s lips as he recalled the many times he had experimented with the dildo corresponding to Christoph’s cock in the Liebe ist fur alle da box set. Paul shivered just with the memory of the huge length stretching him open. The guitarist was small everywhere including between his ass cheeks; he could only imagine what the real Christoph would feel like filling him up.
Paul’s cock was fully hard at this point and it still looked diminutive… It was absolutely nothing like Christoph’s but that was exactly what turned on Paul beyond anything. He loved being tiny in every aspect next to the drummer; it made him feel helpless and totally at Christoph’s mercy.
Shivers wracked Paul’s body and his toes curled against the bed. The guitarist imagined Christoph pinning him against his bed and using his strength to claim him in the most decadent and sinful of ways. Even if Paul tried to fight him back, he simply wouldn’t be able to since Christoph was so strong and powerful.
“Oh, mein gott. Ja, Christoph. Ja.” Paul whined loudly, squirming on the bed and pushing his cock in the tight ring of his fingers. In his language, Paul went on rambling; he always got so obscenely loud in the throes of passion. Even at his age, he would scream his voice hoarse like he used to when he was a young man.
“Christoph, I want you so badly. Fuck me, Christoph!” Paul moaned enthusiastically. The guitarist felt his heartbeat accelerate as he imagined Christoph sucking bruising kisses along his neck, on his forehead and on his ears. In his fantasy, he was lying on his stomach, pinned by the drummer’s strong body. Christoph was torturously taking his time with him; only teasing Paul with the flared head of his cock.
Paul’s length twitched eagerly in his hand. Paul pushed the fabric of Christoph’s shirt up and out of the way so that he could see his hard dick fucking the ring of his fingers. The small man gasped as he noticed his cockhead was an angry red and was shiny with precome. He wasn’t going to last long with all these erotic scenarios assaulting his mind and the musky scent of Christoph invading his nose.
“Oh, please… Christoph, please!” Paul begged to the man of his fantasies. The guitarist furiously stroked his cock and sobbed in need as each tug brought him closer to a shattering conclusion.
Paul bit with abandon on the hem of Christoph’s stolen black shirt and moaned around the fabric held between his teeth. It was only momentary because Paul soon couldn’t control the cries that wanted to burst out of his mouth so he let go of the saliva soaked fabric.
The outbursts of passion echoed loudly in Paul’s apartment where the only sounds that could be heard were his embarrassing whines and the wooden bed creaking against the floor. Paul always got impatient when he was close to orgasm and his eagerness often took hold of all his senses.
That is exactly why Paul never heard Christoph entering his apartment.
****
It was pointless to press the ringbell by the door. Christoph was angry at Paul stealing his clothes again. He wanted to surprise the man, yell at him and maybe throw a few things at him. They’ve talked about this!
Christoph was so far down in his own angry headspace, that he didn’t notice he was already walking through Paul’s apartment. He didn’t see the man anywhere. Apart for his luggage being left by the door, there was no sign of the guitarist.
And then he heard it.
Soft moans and pleads were wafting through the air like the sweetest cinnamon smell. It was luring Christoph, forcing his legs to walk on their own accord. The closer he got, the more he heard. Paul’s voice was unintelligible at first, though his groans and whines were quite clear.
Christoph bit down at his lip to stop the smile spreading across his face. Was little Paul getting naughty? Christoph was going to enjoy mortifying the man.
“Christoph, please… give me your big cock, please.”
The drummer stopped dead in his tracks. He was almost by the bedroom door, he could see the edge of Paul’s bed peeking through the wide open door.
“Fuck, so big,” Paul whined loudly.
All the blood in Christoph’s body rushed south and made him impossibly warm. His skin itched as a result of the sudden wave of arousal washing over him. Hearing Paul moaning his name out loud did things to him.
He walked the rest of the way to Paul’s bedroom and leaned against the white painted door frame. Folding his arms over his chest, he was content for a while to just watch Paul jerk off.
That little shit.
Paul was wearing Christoph’s missing sweater. Only the sweater and nothing else. A surge of possessiveness rushed through Christoph’s veins. Paul was his. That shirt on his pale body was like a trademark he left there.
The whines coming from Paul’s pink lips were getting louder and needier. He was about to come. But Christoph was enjoying the show way too much, he didn’t want it to end so soon.
“I thought that we talked about this, Paul,” he spoke up in his best authoritative voice.
Paul was so startled by Christoph’s voice that he nearly jumped right out of the bed. He squirmed and wriggled on the bed in a frenzy, pulling Christoph’s shirt with both hands and trying his best to cover his aching cock. A furious blush spread on Paul’s face and the tip of ears turned bright red.
Christoph watched it all with his piercing, narrow blue eyes and felt his blood boil. He could see how Paul gripped his shirt, a damp spot forming where the fabric was pulled tight over his hard, little dick. The drummer noticed that the guitarist wouldn’t meet his gaze, too embarrassed and mortified.
“You not only took my shirt without asking my permission but you also dirtied it.” Christoph said sternly. His face was strict, his expression cold and his jaw set firmly. Christoph’s posture betrayed his obvious arousal and the fire that was burning inside him. He was angry and horny beyond imagining.
Paul was still not looking at Christoph, his eyes closed tightly as if he was awaiting a terrible fight. But what he got instead was Christoph walking up to him, the wooden floor creaking under his black leather boots. Paul held his breath and didn’t dare look up.
Christoph stopped at the right hand side of the bed where Paul was curled up on himself. The small man was gripping with white knuckles at the bottom of Christoph’s shirt; he was truly embarrassed by what the drummer had seen.
“Stand up, Paul.” Christoph commanded without further thought. In truth, Christoph was quite amused by what he was witnessing. He always knew Paul was a kinky little bastard, but he never would have believed he would go as far as to steal his shirts to jerk off in them afterwards.
Paul was shocked by Christoph’s demand. He didn’t know what to do but a part of him was enjoying this way too much. His erection had not diminished in the least, and he was still very much aroused even after being discovered. Before standing up, Paul finally dared to look at Christoph.
The tall drummer was dressed all in black with a leather jacket on and a scarf around his neck. He wore black pants and high boots that covered the bottom of the pants. Christoph even had gloves on, black leather ones, and Paul imagined the man touching his bare skin with them.
Paul’s eyes stopped roaming to fix the quite obvious bulge in Christoph’s pants. The guitarist tried to ignore this new discovery and met Christoph’s blue eyed gaze instead.
Christoph was just so damn irresistible today, Paul thought. His hair was neatly shaved at the sides and the top part was just so soft looking and fluffy. Paul wanted to bury his hands in that hair. There was a cold expression on Christoph’s face, his lips pressed thin and his eyes unyielding, that prompted Paul to lift himself to his feet.
As soon as he was standing up, one of Christoph’s large hands went to grab at Paul’s shoulder and the other gently lifted his chin. Paul gasped and his eyes widened as he looked at Christoph’s handsome face, barely centimetres away.
“I would like to see what you’re hiding under my shirt, Paul.” Christoph said in a dark voice, the rich German sending thrills throughout Paul’s body, heat twisting inside his stomach.
The smaller man kept staring at Christoph, the words ringing out in his ears. His cheeks turned pink when he realized what Christoph wanted him to do.
The fingers on Paul’s chin tightened.
“Paul. I asked you something,” Christoph narrowed his eyes. “I want to see what it is you’re hiding under my shirt,” he repeated, voice cold.
Paul swallowed and nodded curtly. He clutched a bit harder on the hem of the black sweater that was covering his achingly hard cock.
“Don’t make me repeat myself,” Christoph warned and let go of Paul’s chin.
The drummer walked over to an antique armchair that was decorating one corner of Paul’s bedroom. He sat down and made himself comfortable. The elbow of his right arm resting casually on the armrest, gloved fingers brushing over his chin and lower lip in a thinking gesture.
Christoph’s legs were spread on the chair and Paul could see the hard outline of Christoph’s cock. It looked massive. Paul’s mouth watered. Everything about Christoph’s posture screamed dominance. Power. Possessiveness.
There was a soft tapping noise filling the room. Christoph was drumming the fingers of his other hand on his thigh - he was getting impatient.
Paul remembered what Christoph wanted him to do, and he blushed even harder. He stood there in the middle of the room, dark fabric being the only thing hiding his arousal from Christoph’s piercing blue eyes. Somehow, he felt more exposed than if he were standing there completely naked.
The guitarist slowly let go of the sweater. He was looking firmly at the ground, shame burning high on his cheeks. He bit down on his lower lip and tugged the shirt up. It dragged against his erection, just enough to cause a tickling sensation that sent sparks up his spine.
Paul shuddered and bit harder on his bottom lip. It was the opposite of how loud he had been just minutes ago. He was desperately trying to keep the moans inside, unsure of what it was Christoph was after.
“Paul,” Christoph spoke up in warning. He tapped his fingers against his knee, the soft leather gleaming in the afternoon sunlight.
The smaller man took a deep breath in through his nose and lifted the shirt up enough for Christoph to see. It was silent in the room and Paul felt small. He was exposed in the most intimate way, and the humiliation of it was enough to make his cock twitch.
There was no way Christoph could have missed it.
“Look at you, Paul,” it sounded as if Christoph was mocking him. “All flushed and hard just from wearing my clothes.”
The drummer tutted.
“You’re a thief, Paul. Do you know, what happens to thieves?”
The guitarist looked up to meet Christoph’s eyes. They had gone dark, the blue barely visible.
“They get punished?” Paul replied. His voice sounded hoarse, he almost didn’t recognize it.
Christoph put his left hand on the armrest, while his right was still near his chin. He was imagining things he’d do to Paul. It was visible in the depths of his eyes, the dilated pupils giving away his intentions.
“That’s right, Paul, thieves get punished. Even pretty ones, like you.”
Paul could barely breath. A part of him was excited and curious about what the punishment would be. Paul couldn’t help but twist his hands behind his back; he was so eager. Christoph’s shirt fell back over his erection which had Paul swallowing hard.
Christoph lifted his gloved hand and beckoned Paul to come closer. Paul didn’t move at first, he was too surprised. The drummer gave him a hard look that left no room for disobedience.
Paul walked up to Christoph and it was as if he was floating, too enraptured by what was about to happen.
“Bend over my lap, Paulchen.” Christoph said darkly, the nickname rolling off his tongue teasingly. Christoph didn’t have to ask twice; Paul was already complying to his order.
Christoph spread his long legs a little more and helped Paul settle down over his thighs. He grabbed Paul by his narrow hips and positioned him. The drummer’s hands were so large that every part of Paul looked even smaller.
Christoph noticed the guitarist had one of his golden earrings on - he was going to suck on that earlobe later… He was going to make Paul squirm and beg and moan his name over and over again.
Paul’s legs were barely touching the wooden floor, his cock was squeezed against Christoph’s thigh and his head was hanging down in submission. Paul felt Christoph’s fingers trail through the short brown hair at the top of his head in a gesture of tenderness. The taller man’s other hand tugged on the shirt covering Paul’s ass and lifted it to bunch over the milky curve.
Christoph couldn’t stop himself from grabbing one of the guitarist’s asscheeks. The drummer wanted to see that pale skin turn a beautiful, sinful shade of pink. Christoph’s cock throbbed in his too tight pants as he imagined Paul sobbing in a mix of pain and pleasure.
The black leather glove was in stark contrast with Paul’s skin. The smaller man couldn’t help but shiver, imagining Christoph’s large gloved hands touching him everywhere. Paul wanted Christoph to fuck him, slam inside him while holding onto his hips with his gloves.
“I will spank you a total of twelve times since you stole twelve of my shirts over the year.” Christoph pronounced in a stern voice, bringing Paul back to reality.
The drummer slightly pinched Paul’s left ass cheek and added: “You’ve been so naughty, Paulchen. You’re still so hard against my thigh. You want to be spanked, don’t you?”
Paul squirmed, the pinch and Christoph’s words sending hot currents of lust through his body. He nodded eagerly, whining in the back of his throat. Paul was unable to keep quiet so he blurted: “Ja, Christoph! Spank me hard.”
Paul’s outburst had Christoph’s blood boiling. How could Paul be so shameless? The drummer’s hand abruptly descended on Paul’s left ass cheek with a loud cracking noise. The guitarist whimpered weakly and brokenly, trying to keep the sounds from escaping his mouth.
“From now on, you will call me Herr Schneider and you will thank me for each slap you get, understood?” Christoph said, tugging a little on Paul’s short strands of hair.
“Ja, Herr Schneider.” Paul answered sensually, lust dripping from each syllable. This earned him another harsh slap that had him rocking forward. The guitarist’s cock was swelled and impossibly hard against Christoph’s thigh. Paul adored a good spanking, and he was trying very hard to hide it. He so desperately wanted to let go and whimper like a pure wanton.
“What do you say now?” Christoph asked in impatience, his gloved hand raised for another slap.
“Danke, Herr Schneider.” Paul moaned, his eyes closing in bliss. It was everything Paul ever wanted. His whole body was on fire, his small frame shaking with barely restrained arousal. Paul knew his cock was making a mess of Christoph’s shirt.
The drummer could feel Paul’s little dick twitching against his thigh and wetness spreading through his stolen shirt and dirtying his black pants.
“You’re so wet, Paulchen. Tell me, are you going to come from just a spanking?” Christoph asked, his voice still dark and disturbingly even.
“I think I could, Herr Schneider.” Paul sobbed in need.
The glove collided with Paul’s plump asscheek. Christoph was only spanking the left cheek and Paul could feel heat gathering over his reddened skin.
Paul couldn’t control himself anymore; he cried out and gripped hard on the wood of the antique chair. He thanked Christoph in an embarrassingly high pitched voice and felt tears gather at the wrinkled corners of his eyes. Paul felt totally dominated by the tall drummer.
The spanking went on, each slap reddening Paul’s cheeks until they were both a bright pink. Each time, Paul thanked Herr Schneider and was punished (or rewarded if Paul’s throbbing cock was any indication) with another slap.
At the 10th slap, Paul was feeling dizzy with an imminent orgasm threatening to overwhelm him. His knuckles were white where he was tightly holding on the edge of the chair.
There were tears spilling at the corners of his eyes; it felt too good, and he needed to come. The heat pooling in his lower stomach was getting unbearable with the prickling pain sensation spreading through his asscheeks.
“Christoph, please, please,” Paul sobbed. He needed to be touched so badly. He wanted to come and wanted more of the sweet pain and wanted to hear Christoph’s rough voice. He was completely lost in the pleasure he received.
“Did I tell you that you could speak?” Christoph’s voice washed over him, and Paul shuddered.
“Nein, Herr,” the guitarist replied shyly.
“Then shut up, Paul. I’m going to give you what you need,” Christoph roughly massaged Paul’s tender skin, grabbing handfuls of his ass. “I’ll take good care of you,” Christoph hummed.
“Please, please, I promise I’ll be good!” Paul stammered, trying to be good for him.
“You have two more, Paul,” Christoph reminded him.
Before Paul managed to get a reply, Christoph hit him. Hard. Paul yelped with the force of it and squirmed on Christoph’s lap.
It stung, the pain immediately traveling through his whole body and straight to his dick. His skin was on fire, it burned with the desire to be cooled down. Paul’s cock was hard and dripping heavily with precome between his thighs, soaking the sweater and Christoph’s pants even further.
“D-danke schön,” Paul sobbed and took a deep breath in. “Herr Schneider,” he added in defeat.
He could almost feel the smug smile on Christoph’s face.
“That’s it,” Christoph cooed and grabbed Paul’s tender cheeks. They were oversensitive, and Paul sobbed at the rough contact. He felt Christoph’s gloved fingers brushing over his hole, and he had to bite down on his lip to stifle an embarrassing high-pitched moan.
“One more Paul. Let’s see if you can come without a touch like the little slut you are,” there was still that mocking tone in Christoph’s voice and it sent Paul’s mind miles away.
He braced himself for the last blow, body taut and tense like a wire.
Christoph pulled Paul’s cheeks apart with his free hand, exposing his twitching hole. The smaller man was nervous and on the edge of his orgasm. He knew he wouldn’t be able to hold it back even if Christoph ordered him to.
And then Christoph landed the last blow straight over Paul’s little pink hole.
The smaller man choked, the orgasm being punched out of him with such force. His mind went blank with bliss, every muscle in his body going stiff and then suddenly relaxing just a second later. It all hurt so good.
The pain subsided and Paul realized his cheeks were wet with tears.
“D-danke,” he managed weakly, his own voice still shaking with the force of his orgasm. The guitarist took a few deep breaths to calm himself and slowly released his grip on the edge of the chair.
“On your knees, Paulchen.” Christoph abruptly ordered as soon as Paul regained a little bit of his senses. The drummer gave a few small taps on Paul’s pert ass to prompt him to action.