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"Yeah, I'll see if I can find it." Nathan said on the phone. Pickles was only a few rooms away, but he was far too hungover to get out of his bed, leaving Nathan to look for the aspirin on his own.
"You find it yet, dood?" Pickles asked, groaning the second his question was finished.
"Yeah, yeah, I found it." Nathan replied, opening the drawer to find the medication Pickles sought. "I'll be there in a minute."
"Be quick, man. I'm dying over here." Pickles whined playfully.
"I'll be as quick as I can, okay? Love you." Nathan said, before his eyes went wide, realizing what he'd just said.
"What did you ju--" BEEP. Nathan hung up the phone, face totally red. How the hell did that slip out? It's not like it's something he says often. He'll say it when his parents call, as long as the rest of the band is out of earshot, but never before had he said it so casually, without even thinking about it.
He took a quick glance around the kitchen, sighing in relief that nobody else was in there to hear the phone call. He'd never hear the fucking end of it.
He took his time getting to Pickles' room, no part of him ready for the inevitable conversation they were about to have. At least it was Pickles he'd said it to; he'd probably not even remember this tomorrow.
Opening the door to the drummer's room, Pickles sat up in his bed with a groan.
"'Bout damn time you got here." he winced, holding his head.
"Yeah, uh, sorry. Here." Nathan replied, handing the bottle to Pickles.
"Thanks, Nate'n." Pickles said, downing the pills. With water, for once. Nathan was so proud.
"Yeah, no problem." Nathan replied, turning around to leave.
"Love ya too." Pickles said, making Nathan stop in his tracks.
"What?"
Pickles shrugged. "Love ya too, big guy. No need to be awkward about it."
"It just slipped out, I didn't-"
"Oh, so you don't love me, den?" Pickles teased, his crooked smirk on his face.
"I mean, uh..." Nathan hesitated.
"If you're worried thet it's gay to say it, or not brutal enough, it's naht. We've been through enough together thet I think we can say it."
"Yeah, alright. I do love you guys. Maybe we should start saying it more often." Nathan pondered.
Later that day, Nathan called an unofficial band meeting in the living room.
"So, uh, we came really close to losing Murderface, and uh, I said something to Pickles this morning that really made me think, and uh..." Nathan stuttered, as the rest of Dethklok looked at him expectantly.
"Uh, I know we don't say it enough, but uh... I love you guys. You're my family. And I don't want to lose any of you."
"I loves you too, Nathans!" Toki exclaimed, jumping off the couch and embracing the frontman in a bear hug. "And Pickle, and Skwisgaar, ands Moidaface!"
"Yeh, same goes for me." Pickles said. "Love you guys."
"You ams dildos sometimes... but yeah. I loves you all toos." Skwisgaar admitted, a faint blush tinting his cheeks. "You ams my brothers whether I likes it or nots."
Everyone looked at Murderface.
"I mean, it's a big step to say it, don't feel pressured or anything, man." Pickles reassured him, putting a hand on his back.
Murderface sighed, trying to hold back tears. He could genuinely not remember the last time anybody ever told him they loved him. Pickles, ever observant, scooted closer to the bassist and wrapped his arms around him.
"I-" Murderface choked back a sob.
"Oh nos!" Toki exclaimed, rushing over to hug Murderface as well. "Don'ts cries!"
"I-" Murderface cut himself off again with a sniffle. "I juscht... can't remember the lascht time schomeone schaid they love me, isch all. And y'know. Meant it."
"Aw, Moidaface..." Skwisgaar cooed, scooting closer to him as well and resting his head on the bassist's shoulder. "We's your family. And we loves you."
This broke Murderface's dam, the one he'd been trying so hard to hold back. He just sat and cried for a moment, letting his bandmates hold him.
"I... I love you guysch too..." he sniffled.
Over the next few weeks, it gradually became easier to say. Goodnights were capped off with a quick "love you guys" before heading to their respective rooms, and phone calls almost always ended with a casual "love ya". They didn't care anymore. They didn't care who heard, or what anyone said.
It was the truth.