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The turn of the coming new year came two hours ago now. The living room of Paul’s and Arielle’s home is covered in an assortment of confetti and other celebratory nonsense, considering they were appointed responsibility of hosting this year’s New Years party. Last year it was Richard and Margaux, and before that, it took place at Till’s Berlin home. Schneider and his Ulrike, Till and his daughters, Flake and Jenny, Richard and Khira Li, and, of course, Paul’s kids, made for a party that lasted quite a while. Ollie himself came alone, but even so, he is among family. He finds himself purely happy, a teeth-revealing grin finding its way onto his face easily.
With the never-ending flow of food and alcohol, they’re all kept quite happy. Especially Till and Paul, who have taken it upon themselves to screw around the most, despite Arielle’s tired, albeit fond, amusement. She watches over the pair as if she was more Paul’s caretaker than his wife—always cautious of whatever bullshit he’s found himself involved in now.
The atmosphere is carefree and joyous. Paul would make his way around the room chatting animatedly with everyone, especially the kids. Ollie enjoys spending time with a drunk Flake, who becomes twice the comedian and overall sarcastic prick that he is sober. Richard directs most of his attention to his daughter considering how much he adores her, though he does mingle with Paul and Till quite a bit as well. Eventually, late at night becomes two in the morning. The younger kids have long been ushered off to bedtime, while the elder teenage children are able to lounge around and kick back until they inevitably wander off to collapse into bed.
As per usual, during social gatherings like this, the members of Rammstein find themselves in a circle, seated around a fire pit in Paul’s backyard. Till’s booming laughter carries through the chilly air, punctuated by Paul’s animated rambling, and Arielle’s smooth, stern voice cutting in and adding her own dry joke, while Schneider and Ulrike cuddle up in front of the fire, her head upon his shoulder. Richard is sitting in his lawn chair with rather poor posture, staring distantly at the fire. Khira Li has gone to bed, as well as Emil and Lili. Till’s daughter, Nele, simply observes the conversation with a smile on her face, fingers threaded around a bottle of beer. Flake and Jenny chime in from time to time, but overall seem more focused on each other. Meanwhile, Ollie absorbs it and basks in the feeling of serenity, sitting between Flake and Richard with his broad hands folded together in his lap, fingers laced.
Two in the morning becomes three in the morning. Jenny drags a sleepy Flake into one of Paul’s guest rooms, excusing them with a wave and a smile. Schneider obviously just wants to spend the rest of the night with his wife, so they leave after sharing fond goodnight's with everyone. Nele is the next to go, and then it’s just Paul, Arielle, Till, Richard, and Ollie.
By now, Richard seems more enthusiastic to chime in. He’s drunker now, as well. A drunk Richard is a version of Richard that is louder, more talkative. He and Paul begin to dick around. Their light-hearted bickering escalates into a back and forth quarrel with grins on their faces. It gets to a ridiculous point where Paul reaches into the fire pit to grab a lit log, and pretends to jab at Richard with it. Richard yells at him while drunkenly laughing, kicking at it, until Arielle snaps at Paul to put it down, and to stop acting like a careless child. Till is cracking up, and Ollie is smiling to himself in the secrecy of the darkness, enjoying the moronic tomfoolery.
“I think it’s time I dragged this idiot to bed,” Arielle announces with a wry smile on her face, rising from her chair, sweeping her endless crimson hair back over her shoulder. She reaches out to grab onto Paul’s bicep with both hands, hoisting him up despite his whining. Paul eventually gives up with an obnoxious, drunken laugh and then points at Richard with a threatening finger and a raise of his brows.
“Don’t you forget who won this, Richard!”
“And yet you’re the one running away!” Richard yells at him, grabbing onto a half-eaten piece of food from his plate to chuck it at him. He overshoots it by a long shot. Paul bursts out laughing, until Arielle harshly hisses at him to shut the fuck up—the kids are sleeping.
“Goodnight, everyone!” Arielle calls, while Paul sluggishly waves a lethargic hand back at them. A chime of goodnight’s follow them into the darkness of the house.
Silence reclaims the night, only broken by the crackling and popping of the fire pit. Richard groans, sagging back into his chair, stretching his legs out while curling his toes. He props his feet against the brick surrounding the fire pit, warming his feet. Ollie watches him from the shroud of darkness, idly spinning his glass of rum in his hands. He’s quite tired himself, but he won’t be excusing himself just yet. Till is silent on his side, across the fire. When Ollie peeks over at him, he sees that his gaze is trained up on the sky, studying the moon. His elbow is propped against the armrest of his chair, hand cradling his jaw, fingers absentmindedly brushing across his mouth.
Refocusing on Richard, Ollie watches him. He’s staring into the flickering flames of the fire, hands folded together atop his lap, his body stretched out, lounging back in the chair lazily. With this slouched position, Richard has a lovely double chin going on. It has Ollie smiling to himself, bringing his glass of rum to his lips to take a drink. Richard blinks so lethargically, it’s one eye at a time. Ollie snickers. That earns a sleepy glance from the other man.
“What?” he asks, slurred. Ollie shrugs.
“You just seem really tired,” he says quietly, amused. Till speaks up, agreeing with a low chuckle, “Richard, don’t fall asleep and roll forward into the fire, please.”
“Alright, alright,” Richard grumbles, slowly dragging his feet from the brick barrier, before moving to stand. Ollie notices he begins to sway. In one swift movement, Ollie sets his glass down, and rushes over to catch him. Richard huffs and leans into him, winding his arm around him. Ollie sighs, hoisting him against his side. He looks over to meet Till’s glassy-eyed gaze over the fire.
“I’ll take him to bed,” Ollie says. Till snorts.
“I’m sure you will.”
Richard giggles, hand slinking down to grope Ollie’s ass. Ollie jumps. Till’s deep, rumbling laugh comes out like an earthquake. Ollie, red-faced, says nothing and simply steers the very drunk, very unstable Richard towards the house.
The way Richard splats limply into the guest bed has Ollie laughing. A little tipsy himself, Ollie continues grinning as he reaches out to adjust Richard’s splayed out limbs. Richard grumbles into the pillows, weakly fidgeting in a pathetic attempt to right himself.
“Roll over, you idiot,” Ollie hisses, amusement in his voice. He pushes at Richard’s side and hip, giving him leverage to sluggishly roll over. Richard sinks into the thick duvet and pillows, eyes rolling shut. Ollie reaches out to deftly unbutton and unzip Richard’s jeans to begin pulling them down, leaving his boxers in place. Richard grumbles drunkenly under his breath. Evidently, he maintains enough coherency to lift his hips. Ollie easily slips his jeans off, throwing them onto his suitcase. He then grabs onto the bottom of Richard’s unsightly, tacky shirt and begins drawing it up. Richard slurs incomprehensibly, dragging his arms up to let Ollie wrestle it off of him. Like with his jeans, Ollie tosses it in the direction of his suitcase.
A strong, demanding hand grabs him by the wrist. Ollie looks down at him. Richard is gazing up at him with heavy, exhausted eyes. A weak smile is on his face.
“Come cuddle with me, babe. Sleep with me.”
Ollie blushes. He nods. If he were completely sober, he might reconsider it, but it’s not like it would be necessarily a bad thing if the others caught them. They would just be teased endlessly.
After removing his drop-crotch sweatpants and hoodie, Ollie climbs onto the bed. Richard hums happily, holding his arms out, a gesture for Ollie to come closer. Ollie smiles. He collapses beside him, Richard wrapping his arms tightly around the younger man, pulling him in close to his side. Ollie plants his hand against the bed for leverage, softly laughing, and gets comfortable by wiggling under the covers foremost. It’s hard to do so with Richard holding him like this, but he manages it. Richard makes a noise of realization and seems to agree; he attempts to pull up the covers, but considering he’s laying on top of them, it proves to be a failure.
Ollie thoughtfully, generously decides to assist him. He pries the blankets out from under him and pulls them up over them both. Richard purrs like a cat, a rumbling hum in his throat. He then rolls over to essentially lay on top of Ollie. Ollie wheezes, laughs, and wraps his arms around the other man. Richard realizes he may be crushing Ollie, and wiggles away just enough to let him breathe. With a deep exhale, Richard gets comfortable. Ollie relaxes into the pillows, as well.
“G’night, Ollie,” Richard slurs, nuzzling into Ollie’s shoulder, face hidden in the pillow, “Lov’you.”
A moment of silence hangs over the guest bedroom. Ollie’s heart is fluttering. He strokes his broad hand up and down over Richard’s bare back, enjoying the warmth of his soft skin. He cranes his neck to kiss him on the temple.
“I… Love you, too,” Ollie whispers, earning a lethargic, pleased grumble from Richard, who then squeezes his arm tighter around him, clinging to him affectionately. Sleep will be impossible to obtain in this position, but Ollie doesn’t mind. Truthfully, he greatly enjoys being held by the other man like this. He’ll gladly sacrifice sleep for the sake of it. Love and fondness flutters in his chest for Richard, keeping him utterly warm and truly content.
“You make me… Happy,” Richard sleepily slurs, spoken so heavily and partially muffled. Ollie barely understands him. He pauses. He then smiles to himself, touched. He squeezes Richard’s bare shoulder, leaning over to tenderly kiss him on the head.
“Likewise,” Ollie replies fondly, nuzzling into his hair, eyes closed. He waits a beat, hears no response but a dazed mumble, before he adds softly with a lingering smile, “…Now get some sleep.”