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Since the very beginning of Dethklok, Pickles and Nathan had always been “Mom and Dad,” and Pickles was beginning to see why. Whenever they traveled, the pair always stayed in the same room, even after that became financially unnecessary. They stayed up late eating junk food, getting high, discussing potential new songs, and definitely not talking about their feelings.
That was how it usually went down, anyway. This time, Nathan had been feeling a little adventurous and to steer him away from tequila, Pickles proposed heroin. He expected this extreme suggestion to lead Nathan back to a more rational pre-show drug, but Nathan surprised him and accepted.
One irresponsibly shared needle later, Pickles was slightly regretting his suggestion. Nathan not being a conditioned druggie, he was feeling the effects of the heroin a bit more than Pickles. Nathan was unconscious and sprawled completely across the bed that was supposed to be Pickles’, and he knew better than to think there would be any sort of moving him.
Pickles watched Nathan sleep for a while, mesmerized by the heroin-slowed rise and fall of his chest. But when the snoring began, Pickles knew he would not be able to handle it all night. He narrowed his eyes, trying to decide on the best course of action, but the snoring was making it difficult. Or maybe it was the drugs. Hard to tell.
Eventually, he decided waking Nathan up was the only plausible way to stop him from snoring. Rousing this man was not an easy feat, he knew. He took a pillow from the still-made bed he had been sitting on, and crept towards Nathan, holding the pillow like you might a baseball bat.
He raised it above his head and bit his lip, debating whether or not this was actually a good idea. However, he was still a bit fuzzy, and the pillow made the sound of a gunshot when it hit Nathan’s bare chest.
Nathan started, at the noise rather than the sensation, and clutched at the front of Pickles’ shirt.
“Did you hear that, man?”
He could only laugh in response. Nathan grew more serious and pulled at Pickles' shirt, causing a half-hysterical Pickles to end up sprawled across Nathan. When Pickles finally calmed down, he found Nathan was staring at him more intensely than before.
He could only manage a “Wh-?” before Nathan surged upwards and kissed Pickles roughly. Any thoughts Pickles might have managed before were utterly destroyed as he scrambled to allow Nathan’s tongue entry into his mouth.
He was the first to pull away gasping, which left Nathan looking slightly like a kicked puppy.
“Gotta breathe, dood.”
Nathan half-smiled at that, reassured. He ran his fingers down Pickles’ arm in a caress of sorts before taking his hand and squeezing. Pickles looked unsure and gently withdrew his hand.
“I don’t want to do this if the drugs have anything to do with it.”
“They don’t! Pickles- no, Pickles, look at me. Look at me! They don’t.”
Pickles looked away for just a moment to try and find words, but when he looked back, Nathan was asleep again. He chuckled half-heartedly, and then sighed. He laid down next to Nathan.
“Might as well take what I can get.” He murmured to himself before drifting off to sleep.
The next morning, Nathan woke up first, happily surprised to find himself with an armful of Pickles. He pulled the smaller man closer to his chest and kissed the top of his head. In his sleep, Pickles smiled.