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There was a time when 1AM was not considered late around Mordhaus. It used to be a prime time for a trip to the nearest bar, or an impromptu flight to Italy, or even just watching a few movies before everyone slunk off to their bedrooms. But even before the Metalocalypse, Dethklok’s nocturnal schedule had been thrown out the window during Knubbler’s training, when he insisted the band wake up at the crack of dawn. In the days since the final battle came and went, they’d all been so busy trying to help in the effort to rebuild the planet that the rock stars found themselves falling into bed at practically normal hours. Sometimes they didn’t even make it into bed, dozing off in the kitchen or living room.
That happened to Nathan yesterday. He’d sat down on the couch, fully intending on just checking his texts before bed, but the next thing he knew he was waking up in the morning. Except he wasn’t alone. At some point in the night, Pickles had joined him on the couch, and fallen asleep with his head resting on the singer’s shoulder. Looking down at the sleeping drummer, Nathan was surprised to realize it felt … right? Like maybe every day he should wake up to the smaller man’s comforting warmth and rhythmic breathing. Around the time some corner of his mind started thinking of some very interesting ways to wake Pickles up, Nathan couldn’t take it anymore. He couldn’t handle the mess of overwhelming and conflicting emotions swirling in his head, so he bolted. He didn’t even turn to see how the sleeping figure reacted to the loss of his big pillow.
Which is why after a long day of eagerly taking on any task Charles or the various groups doing repairs on Mordhaus could throw at him, Nathan laid wide awake in the middle of the night, no longer able to distract himself from his thoughts. Amid the chaos in his mind, finally he had one thought that made sense: Go get a goddamn glass of chocolate milk.
Padding barefoot into the kitchen, the front man was surprised to see someone else had a similar idea. Skwisgaar was seated at the table, staring at a glass Nathan suspected had been empty for a while. They exchanged nods, the silence of the night only broken by the noises of the refrigerator door, milk being poured, and the scuffing of a chair against the floor as Nathan sat across from the blonde man. And for a while, they were content to sit in each other’s quiet company. But then he had another thought: Maybe Skwisgaar would understand. Maybe he was the one person Nathan could ask about this who wouldn’t judge him. He just had to think of the right way to bring the topic up.
“Uhhh you’ve fucked a guy before right?”
Shit. That wasn’t it. Skwisgaar looked at him indignantly.
“Excuse me?”
“Fuck. Forget I said anything,” said Nathan, burying his face in his hands.
The guitarist watched him for a long moment before relaxing. “I haves.”
“… Why?”
“Pfft. The fucks you mean why? Because I can’ts sucks it myself.”
Finally abandoning the safety of his hands, Nathan said, “yeah but, you’ve never had any trouble picking up chicks, even before we were famous. So like … why?”
Skwisgaar shrugged, suddenly aloof. “It amn’st that big of a deal.”
“I mean … I kind of feel like it is though?” said Nathan. “Like we’ve known each other all these years, and we’ve never talked about it before.”
“Until yous broughts it up,” Skwisgaar noted.
Nathan didn’t have a good response to that. The supply of bravery he’d mustered to bring up the topic seemed to have run out once it came to admitting why he did.
“… Yeah.”
Skwisgaar studied his bandmate, who was doing his best to avoid eye contact. It seemed he was feeling particularly patient with Nathan’s behavior, because he sighed and continued, “it’s … not likes I go lookings for it. But for de right groupies, I won’t turns it down.”
“But uh … what if it’s not a groupie?” asked Nathan. “What happens when it’s like … someone you know? And you … don’t want it to be a one-time thing?”
The blonde man took a deep breath, exhaling slowly.
“That ams … different.” He shook his head in frustration, closed his eyes and said, “especiallies when de man am such a stupid dildo.”
That snapped Nathan out of his own troubled mind. Sure, everyone noticed something had changed between Toki and Skwisgaar after the Metalocalypse. And yes, there had always been something about the two of them that couldn’t be explained by rivalry or friendship, something no one could quite put their finger on. Or perhaps, didn’t want to put their finger on, for fear of what acknowledging … that type of thing might change about the band. About them. But this was the first time Skwisgaar had actually acknowledged it, and in some way, it was like a bubble had finally popped.
“You … think people are gonna make fun of you for it?” Nathan asked, testing the waters.
Skwisgaar scoffed. “I don’ts care what de mortals thinks of me. I ams de greatest guitarist there ever was or evers will be. I care that …” He huffed, crossing his arms. “I care that he wrotes a whole fucking book abouts whats a monster I ams, and he trieds to ruin my whole fucking careers, and he never even saids he was sorries! And I can’ts brings it up now, after he was kidnapsed and tortured, sos I just has to lets it go. Because apaprentlys Toki can treat ME however the fucks he wants and it doesn’ts even matter, because no matter how much of a selfish dildo he ams or how cruel he treats me, I’ll still fucking loves-”
Skwisgaar froze mid-sentence, as if time stopped. It seemed he'd shocked himself even more than his conversation partner. He slowly lowered his head into his hands, clutching fistfulls of his golden hair.
“I ams patheticks.”
The singer shifted in his seat. Comforting people wasn’t exactly his strong suit, nor was giving relationship advice, especially not gay relationship advice. The idea of talking about any of this would have been unthinkable even a few weeks ago. But Nathan would be lying if he said he didn’t admire the other man in this moment. Skwisgaar wasn’t afraid of his feelings. He wasn’t afraid of the public eye. And even if accidentally, he’d used the L word. Nathan hadn’t even been able to say he loved someone he was trying to propose to. Although in hindsight, he wondered if there were a few other things at play in that particular situation. Regardless, he didn’t want to leave his friend hanging.
“Look … I obviously don’t fucking know anything about relationships or feelings or shit. But … Toki’s been through a lot the last few years. And like, before that, too, honestly. And only having four weird assholes who are all going through their own shit for support didn’t fucking help.”
Skwisgaar gave a snort of laughter. “True.”
“So like, maybe now that we’re all trying the whole caring about each other thing, maybe he’ll … calm down a little. Or something.”
“Maybes.” Skwisgaar leaned back in his chair, looking up at the ceiling with a wry smile on his face. “I was too perfeckts and handsome and goods at guitar, so de gods cursed me with terribles taste in men. At least you has things easy with Pickle.”
Nathan’s eyes went wide. “Wh- uh, what?”
The guitarist looked at him in mild surprise. “Amn’st that who this ams about?”
“It …” Nathan could feel his cheeks heating up, which only added to his embarrassment. Even if the other man somehow knew, saying it for the first time was still daunting. “How’d you know?”
Skwisgaar shrugged. “I’s known since like forevers, really.”
Nathan’s jaw dropped. “What?!”
“Oh ja, didn’ts yous ever wonder why I nevers came on de Friender Benders?”
“Y- but- I mean those are just me and Pickles,” stammered Nathan.
“Sures, now dey are,” Skwisgaar said, speaking in the sort of cadence one might use to explain to a child that if you have three apples and you eat one, now you have two apples. “But de first time, you saids you wanteds the three writers of de album to goes on a trip. But I saw the way you twos look at each others, and I didn’ts want to be arounds when yous figured it out, and feels like the extra bicycle.”
“… Third wheel?”
“Whatevers. Anyways, apparentlies you had so much fun you forgots you even inviteds me.”
Nathan was shell-shocked. He truly believed this was a recent development, but apparently it was so obvious someone had noticed over a decade ago? Suddenly he was questioning his entire life. Had he really been unlucky in love, or had some part of him been dating women he had nothing in common with on purpose? Were Friender Benders the highlight of his year because he got to go wild, or because of all the uninterrupted alone time with Pickles? Was he … gay? No, that at least he knew; no gay guy would enjoy blowjobs from women that much. So was he bi? Was it a thing to be straight except for one particular guy you kind of wanted to spend the rest of your life with?
Skwisgaar chuckled, practically able to see the gears turning in his friend’s head. “Guess I gave yous a lot to thinks about.”
“Uhhhh … yeah,” said Nathan. “I guess I should … tell … that guy.”
“If you wants.” The Swede rose, taking his cup over to the sink. “Well, dere ams a fifty fifty chance Mr. Sensitives ams already waitings in my bed.”
Toki sneaking into someone’s room in the middle of the night was nothing new. Hell, a lot of them ended up in someone else’s bed from time to time. Such was the nature of their weird little family. But at this rate, Nathan wondered how long it would be before the whole room situation changed entirely.
Skwisgaar was almost out the door when Nathan thought of one last question, something he felt he could only ask on this night, in this conversation, before they woke up tomorrow in whatever future they were heading towards.
“Hey uh … what if we lose fans? Because of this.”
The blonde stopped in the doorway, turning back to meet the frontman’s gaze with a resolute expression. “I don’ts care how many fans I haves, or if I has to go back to playings at de trashy venues. If I can keeps playings with hims- with all of yous- forever, that ams enough.”
Huh. It really was, wasn’t it?
A short time later, Nathan headed down the hallway towards his room, but stopped just shy of the door. He swallowed, turning around before he lost nerve. He didn’t even knock on Pickles’ door; he burst in, turned, and quickly shut the door behind him, only remembering at the last second that maybe he should make some attempt to close it quietly.
“Mm … Nate?” came the drummer’s half-awake voice in the darkness, laced with confusion.
“Uhh …”
He didn’t have an explanation for this, and he wasn’t great with words even if he did. So Nathan simply walked over and got in bed.
“Is … this okay?”
Even in the dim red light cast by the alarm clock, he could see the surprise on Pickles’ face. “Oh. Uh, yeah.”
“Good. Awesome.”
A moment passed, and Nathan decided to press his luck a little more. He reached a broad arm out, and brought the smaller man’s body closer to his own. Pickles tensed, but after the initial shock passed, he chuckled softly, resting his head on the larger man’s shoulder, and placing his hand on Nathan’s chest.
And god, it just clicked. This was what he’d been looking for in his all his fruitless efforts at dating. This feeling of the world slowing down as his heartbeat sped up under the touch of this man whose slight frame belied the strength to pound out the most amazing drum solos Nathan had ever heard. He was amazing. Their band was amazing. No matter what the world at large thought about it, they had some fans that would literally follow them to the ends of the earth.
Nathan exhaled, letting go of his tension, and feeling more at peace than he had in … years, probably. He didn’t have to figure this out tonight, or on his own. For now, he could drift off to sleep secure in the thought that one way or another, things would work out.