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Author: -_gekreuzigt auf dir_-
Rating: PG-13, to just a little bit above in some parts
Summary: Dero admits the new American is attractive and the new American admits the German boy's attractive. But is it worth jepordizing Dero's relationship with Crap?
Pairing: Chester Bennington/Dero/Crap (but not all at once...sorry)

I couldn't think of a title....so, um, maybe later...Anyway, here we go! Pardon any misspellings, I typed it all up directly on here. I know there's not a lot of "action" going on, but this is the first chapter...it'll get better as it goes.

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That electric feeling of a show was in the air. Even though OOMPH! wasn't the top bill, Dero was still excited. They were opening for a popular American band that was currently touring Germany. It was a highly anticipated show and the crowd was huge. Dero grinned to himself as he walked into the changing room.

Linkin Park...rap-core's an interesting genre, Dero thought. Since agreeing to open, he had gotten ahold of their CDs. Catchy songs, he was rather impressed. Mike Shinoda had a pretty smooth, rapid voice that was offest by the raspier tones of Chester Bennington.

Andreas looked up as Dero walked in. "Hey." The guitarist turned back to the mirror and sprayed his hair once more to ensure that the blonde triangle wouldn't fall during the show. For bigger concerts (and when they were top bill) and videos, cosmetic professionals and hair stylists followed the guys everywhere. But for an opening set, they guys were considered to be self-sufficient enough to do all that themselves.

The spray had barely disappated before Dero was behind Andreas, arms around his waist and face buried in his shoulder. Goddamn, but he's tall, Dero thought for the fiftieth time. Although he couldn't see it, Dero could hear Crap's smile in his voice. "The hairspray got to your brain?"

"Shut up, you know I love shows..."

Andreas turned around and swiftly kissed the singer. "You love so many things, sometimes I lose track." Dero grinned flirtatiously, weaving his hand through Crap's belt and tugging the guitarist's hips against his own.

The doorknob turned and the jamb clicked.

Dero and Crap had quickly jumped apart, but judging by the look on the American's face, probably not fast enough. An awkward silence fell--the two Germans were furiously thinking of something to say and the American debating on whether or not to back out of the room. Crap finally broke the silence. "Ready for the show?" he asked in heavy English.

The American nodded. "Just need to, uh, get ready..."

"Dero auch. I'll go so you all have room."

Giving Dero one last glance, Andreas left the dressing room. Now it was only Dero and the American. He struggled to match the name to the face...lean, shaved head...Chester. Chester Bennington, that was his name.

Chester gave Dero a little nod, then walked past him to the open niche in the wall that acted as a closet. That jogged Dero out of his embarrased stupor; there was a show to do. Once he did his hair, he couldn't drag a shirt over it. So he needed to get his white undershirt on first--the straightjacket killed and would be the absolute last thing Dero would put on at the absolute possible minute.

By the time Dero got his own shirt off, Chester was already shirtless and bent over, shuffling through the closet. How hard can it be to pick out an outfit? Dero thought. American bands only wear jeans and T-shirts. But his attention was caught by the sprawling art across Chester's body. "Nice tattoos," he said.

Chester straightened up. "Thanks." His eyes ran over the German's torso. Dero was suddenly very aware of the slight weight he had put on over the past few year. The American's eyes slid up Dero's chest and over his shoulder, and down his arm. "Your tattoos are cool, but what are they?"

Thrown back a minute by the slang, Dero quickly recovered. He gave a short laugh. "Many people have asked me that. The tattoos are chaos mechanisms." Chester nodded, but Dero knew he was lost. "H.R. Geiger?" he supplied.

Chester Bennington was still lost.

"So...are you ready for the show?" Chester asked nonchalantly. Dero grunted as he pulled a white T-shirt over his head. Chester assumed this meant "yes". Or "ja" or whatever it was Germans said. "We're still having a combined encore, right? Mike and I listened to some of your stuff. Really good."

"I listen to your music too. It was very good. I'm familiar with most of the singles, so if we perform one of those...it'd be nice." Dero spoke while looking at Chester's reflection in the mirror. The American vocalist had located his jeans and was now searching head-first through the closet-jumble. Dero let the conversation fade into silence. His eyes watched Chester's muscles flex under the ink on his back. Physical art...wonderschön. Shaking his head, Dero tore his eyes from the reflection and began to style his hair.

The gel was thick and rather slimey, but it got the job done. Except that once Dero got to the back of his head...he could spike it himself, but it took forever--time he didn't have before the show. Crap usually helped him, but he doubted the guitarist was willing to come near the American's scrunitizing eye again. Crap was eternally fearful that someone would find out about their relationship.

"Need help?"

Dero looked up and saw Chester standing behind him, holding out a hand for the gel bottle. Silently, without really even thinking, Dero handed it to him. His senses had decided to shut down for the moment. He felt the American ruffling through his hair, twisting the strand into a paint. "I actually used to have hair once," Chester said, breaking the silence. "Spiked it too, but then I decided to shave my head. Makes it a lot easier in the morning."

Dero nodded. "Danke. For helping me out, I mean. Andreas usually helps, but..." All at once, Dero became aware of the knowing glint in Chester's eye and his cheeks flamed red. Oh, Schieße...

"Andreas? Is he that guy who was in here earlier?" Without waiting for Dero to give the affirmative, "Is he your boyfriend?"

"Nein!" Chester cocked his head to the side and raised his eyebrow. Besides not knowing German, Dero's answer had been too quick and loud. "No," Dero said, this time in English and slower. "He is not. Why--no."

Chester laughed. "I mean, it's cool if you are." Dero glared at him through the mirror. "But ok! You two aren't together. My bad. I just thought...when I came in here..." He trailed off, waiting for Dero to offer up an excuse. When nothing was forthcoming, Chester shrugged and tossed the gel back on the counter. "There ya go."

"Thanks." Dero grabbed the hair spray with a shaking hand as Chester left the room.

OMG, -_G-A-D_-, waaay hot. Of course, by the time you read my comment, I'll have already told you at school unless I forgot.

rofl it's okay. I'll wait patiently for more Chester/Dero and Dero/Crap yummyness whee and aren't we all sometimes biggrin

*pokes thread* any new updates? ninja

A/N: Entlich kommt eine neue Kapitel! biggrin Can you tell I wrote this in psych class? Anyway, I wrote half of this in January now that I think about it. redface Hope you like!

If there's any glaring errors, let me know. I didn't feel like proof-reading it (I'm tired, mon!)



The low roar of the crowd pervaded the air, echoing even in the humid backstage. Dero stood in the wings, slowly sipping water and feeling his sweat dry in cakes on his skin. Their opening act had been great. The audience had reacted well, instead of being impatient for the top bill. And now Linkin Park was on stage, performing under the heavy, pulsing lights. Mike was center-stage and there was Chester now without a shirt....Dero turned his back and walked stiffly toward the refreshment table.

Flux raised an eyebrow as Dero sank into a chair. "Are you feeling okay?"

"Ja, ja..." Dero threw his now-empty water bottle at the trash can and missed terribly. "Oops. Where's Thomas?"

Flux shrugged and took another gulp of water before answering. "I'm not sure really. He may have gone to the bathroom or something, oder?"

Dero grunted. Well, at least Crap hadn't seen his agitation over the new American. No, it's not agitation....and if it were, it's not because of him, Dero argued in his head. He was just on edge because the left-over adrenaline. His blood was still hot from performing on stage. There were plenty of logical reasons for his agitation that had nothing to do with Chester. What would Freud say? Dero laughed softly. Freud would say that Dero had turned away from Linkin Park's performance, not because of the shirtless, graffitied singer, but because Dero had repressed anger at the band for being the star of the show...or because Dero had repressed sexual aggression. Gottverdammt! Dero grabbed another bottle of water and got up to pace.

"Why does everyone litter?" Dero turned around to see Crap picking up the water bottle Dero had earlier thrown at the trash can.

Flux pointed at Dero. "He did it."

Dero grinned sheepishly. "Good show?"

"Ja, but we're not done yet. The American manager Kerl asked me to tell you guys to get ready for the encore."

Dero's stomach did a little flip. Oh Scheiße. He had forgotten about the combined song at the end of the show. He was going to have to be on stage, interacting with Chester Bennington. But he put on a smile for his bandmates. "Alright."

"Five minutes then."

After those five minutes had passed, Dero joined Crap and Flux in the wings. The other two men were making the final adjustments to their instruments and Dero pulled at his straight-jacket costume. The crowd screamed as they walked onstage and the rush entered Dero's veins. He exchanged a brief glance with Crap; the guitarist's eyes gleamed, even though he kept the rest of his face stoic as per usual. Was für ein Schauspieler ist ihn... Dero had the sudden urge to kiss Crap's eyelids, but he put the mic to his lips instead and roared back at the crowd.

Mike and Chester were waiting for him at centerstage. Mike high-fived Dero and Chester slapped him on the back. His hand lingering on teh German's shoulder, Chester yelled out, "Together now--we bleed it out!" Dero clapped along with the crowd while ducking back from Chester's touch. Even through his jacket, his skin was all too aware of the hand. And his eyes were all too aware of the gleaming sweat on the man's taut stomach.

The guitarists started up the beginning chords of Linkin Park's latest single. It was an energetic performance, everything working smoother than planned. Mike rapped out the verses as the audience clapped along in time. Crap and Flux added to the heavier guitar lines, making the speakers shake. Chester strutted the stage while Dero jumped about, both singing the chorus. And then the grand finale came and Dero was never expecting it.

He screamed "I bleed it out! one last time, registering on the edge of his mind that Chester's voice had already faded out. The German lowered his microphone and grinned out at the roaring crowd. It was a fantastic feeling...and then he felt a hand on the back of his neck, tightening protectively. Dero jerked his head over his shoulder, only to find Chester's lips on his. Surprise flooded through him and the world seemed to stop for several seconds; his breathe had certainly stopped for longer. And then there was a sting on his bottom lip and Chester pulled away, slinging an arm around Dero's shoulders.

Dero couldn't hear anything above the shrieks of girls in the crowd and the pounding of blood in his own ears. Mike was staring at Chester, as was everyone else on stage. Except for Crap--his eyes were on Dero. Those eyes which had just earlier been filled with the excitement of the music, was now replaced by a mix of emotions Dero couldn't straighten out. The singer himself could not move. He stood there, pinned to Chester's side, blood trickling down from his bitten lip.

Did I really just kiss him back?

O-M-F-G. I love that endlessly to death!!!! heart heart So f*cking adorable! Write another soon!