Fool's Gold (updated 11/3/12)

[Anonymouse]

I've discovered recently that in order to enjoy writing stories for the board, I need a balanced mix of fluff, angst, and pure smut. Lately I've been trying to write too much fluff and smut and nothing was working for me. Then I decided to start working on the Mono Duo sequel I promised. Surprisingly, I kind of like how this first chapter turned out. I have the story in my head, but it was a question of whether or not I could convey it well enough to the rest of you. I'm pleased so far though.

This takes place a few months after the end of The Mono Duo. Skwisgaar and Toki are together, though secretly, and they tend to act and treat each other the same as they used to, except with less snark (in private, anyway). Nobody suspects a thing (except Pickles, who had an idea that something was going on from the start).

I'm sticking this in the general stories section because I don't forsee anything too 18+ (besides language, of course) happening... except perhaps one chapter that I will stick separately in the adult section. What I have planned out right now is more of an action/drama story. Shit's gonna get intense in a whole new way.

I hope you enjoy the first chapter!

---

As far as Skwisgaar was concerned, they should have given him a holiday sooner.

It was the most obvious thing in the world, to reward talented individuals with their own national holiday. Mother’s Day had been around for nearly a century, and all it did was force people to acknowledge and appreciate their mothers, whether they deserved it or not. (Skwisgaar’s certainly didn’t.) Then there was Mardis Gras and Thanksgiving, holidays dedicated to gorging yourself. (As if Americans needed special days for that.) Excluding Halloween, there was absolutely nothing metal about holidays.

But all of that changed when September 25^th was deemed an official holiday in Sweden. Children had off from school and adults had a day off from work in order to celebrate the birthday of the Fastest Guitarist in the World.

It was Skwisgaar's twelfth year now holding that title, as well as his twelfth year in Dethklok. The band had him to thank for its longevity; before they found him they were starting to fizzle out. Skwisgaar was the shot of adrenaline that kept the group alive, dragging it out of the dark hole where shitty metal bands go to die and bringing it back stronger than ever.

He smirked at his reflection as he brushed out his wet hair. Twelve years later and he still looked the same. Sometimes he wondered if he really was a god; it would explain why he never seemed to age, why his hair and skin never seemed to lose that lustrous glow. There were faint lines around his mouth, but those had always been there, brought on from the perpetual frown of his childhood.

Despite the festive atmosphere of the day, Skwisgaar couldn’t help feeling a little depressed. It was quite possibly the first time in his life that anyone was celebrating his birthday. Until quite recently nobody, save his own mother and possibly Charles, even knew the date of his entrance into the world, and Serveta Skwigelf could hardly be bothered to remember it.

He was startled out of his sadness when someone opened the door to his dressing room without knocking. The pair of blue eyes that peered in at him set him at ease. Even after all these months, he wasn’t yet used to Toki’s habits of barging into his room uninvited. “Ams there lots of peoples outside?”

“Ja,” Toki replied, falling into the chair beside Skwisgaar. The Swede was naked, but he made no move to cover himself with the towel he had draped over the arm of his own chair; it’s not like Toki (or any of his other band mates, for that matter) hadn’t seen him nude before. “They’s been waiting since dis mornings. I t’inks some of thems am startings to get frosts-bites.” He snickered. “It’s brutal.”

Skwisgaar grinned at the idea of his slavishly devoted fans waiting for a glimpse of him despite their blackening limbs and frostbitten faces. “I should be finisheds in an hour,” he said, taking his time with his hair. He liked to brush it for a while before he started drying it, even long after all the tangles had been smoothed out.

Toki sat beside him, quietly entertaining himself with his Nintendo DS, though Skwisgaar caught him glancing up occasionally to watch the brush coast through the damp blond strands. “Can I brushes it?”

All the knots were gone, so Skwisgaar saw no harm in allowing this. “Sures.”

He handed Toki the brush and the latter set to work guiding it through his hair. Skwisgaar closed his eyes, shivering slightly at the coldness of the air on his bare skin and the pleasurable sensations that spread across his scalp. He loved getting his hair brushed or touched, but he didn’t allow Toki the privilege of playing with it all that often. The other guitarist had a tendency to be rough, unintentionally snagging his stubby fingers in the tangles. Despite Toki’s good intentions, Skwisgaar preferred not to have clumps of hair torn from his head.

The brush stopped moving, and Skwisgaar popped an eye open just in time to see Toki’s reflection ducking behind his. “Hh’nktchh!”

“Blesses you.”

“Hh’hhhKSHHah!”

“Blesses you.”

Sniffling, Toki straightened up, sweeping his hair out of his face and sighing. Skwisgaar quirked an eyebrow, trying not to smirk. “You gettings sick?” he asked, already knowing the answer.

“Pfft, no.” Toki was picking up more of Skwisgaar’s habits every day. “Just hads a random tickle. It happens.”

It did happen, but a cold was more likely. Skwisgaar couldn’t remember ever going on a tour where Toki didn’t get sick. It was unavoidable, like a hangover after twenty-five beers the night before. The rhythm guitarist’s immune system just couldn’t take the stress of touring. “If you says so.”

Toki pouted. It meant so much to him for Skwisgaar to believe him, but the Swede could never bring himself to make his lies sound convincing. It felt wrong to lie to Toki at all, especially after Skwisgaar spent so much time not being entirely truthful with him. Turning in his chair, he peered up at Toki (rarely did he ever look up at Toki) and reached up to caress his cheek. “Just takes it easy, alrights?”

“Ja, I wills.”

He continued to scowl, so Skwisgaar pressed his lips against Toki’s chest, trying (and failing) to blow a raspberry through his shirt. When that didn’t work he settled on a kiss. Ticklish to a fault, Toki squirmed the whole time, biting his bottom lip to keep from laughing. He didn’t get upset often, but when he did he tried his hardest to stay that way.

When Skwisgaar glanced up again Toki was frowning, but this time it was in concentration. When he didn’t speak after a moment, Skwisgaar adopted a similar expression. “Whats?”

Wordlessly, Toki pinched a lock of Skwisgaar’s hair and lifted it carefully, letting the individual strands fall away until he was holding just one. It was so fine it was nearly invisible, but after staring at it long enough Skwisgaar realized what was so odd about it.

It was gray.

Without warning Toki plucked it from his head. The lead guitarist let out a yelp, clutching his scalp. “What de fucks, Toki!”

“Sorries,” he said, his tone and demeanor genuinely apologetic. “I just thoughts you wanteds rids of it.”

He did, but not like that. In fact he would have preferred it if it wasn't even gray in the first place. Even with it gone, another would grow to take its place, then another and another until his entire head was full of gray hairs. Or worse; bald.

Turning back towards the mirror, Skwisgaar leaned forward and began examining his face. If there was a gray hair hidden among all those glossy golden strands there was no telling what other signs of age could be lurking. Squinting, he focused on his eyes, certain he could see the beginnings of crow’s feet.

Not sure what to make of this, Toki stood awkwardly behind Skwisgaar’s chair for a moment before dismissing himself. “Sees you laters, I guess,” he muttered, making his way out of the room. As the door swung shut Skwisgaar heard a muffled “Hhhff’kshh!” in the hallway.

“Gets some of dat Airs-bornes from Charles or somet’ing!” he called out, still inspecting his reflection diligently.

Sighing, he sat back in his chair and stared at himself in the mirror. Sometimes he felt more like Toki’s mother than his boyfriend.

Maybe Toki was making him old before his time.

Edited November 4, 2012 by AnonyMouse

[March Hare]

Ohhhh, hello. This looks fine. I love how conflicted their 'relationship' seems to be and how UN-loveydovey you write them! This is exactly the way I was picturing them together!

Heh, Skwisgaar fucking Skwigelf going gray... I like that thought. He would still be friggin beautiful with gray hair. It would be silver, knowing him.

I LOVE it that you're writing those bastards again!

[NameTaken]

Aghhhh sequel! Yes!! It's here!

I already love where this is going. Like Skwisgaar just lounging around naked. Yay. Also, I'm with Maru in that Skwis would probably look gorgeous with his hair either way.

Bwah. Anony fic.

[Masking]

TOOOOKIIIII.

Oh, Skwis. So freaking overdramatic. Here's hoping he gets a dildos cold, too.

[Anonymouse]

Not a very sneezy chapter, but trust me when I say there will be plenty more to come. As always, thanks for the comments! I'm glad everyone's enjoying it so far.

---

“What are you, a chick? Stop messing with your hair.”

Skwisgaar glanced up at Nathan, slowly extracted his fingers from his blond mane. Ever since Toki found that gray hair he’d been groping at his head so often that his hands were beginning to automatically wander there without his knowledge. It was becoming a nervous tic. His hand fell back to the neck of his guitar, their other favorite place to be, and he played a few quick scales, his eyes flitting around the room.

“Lotta people out there,” Murderface observed, peering out at the crowd from the wing of the stage.

“No shit, dude. We’re Dethklok.”

“I think they’re here for Skwisgaar,” Pickles pointed out, nudging an elbow into the lead guitarist’s ribcage.

Murderface snorted, but his jealousy was obvious. He pressed his lips together as he surveyed the tall, slender girls in the front row, knowing that they weren’t here to see him. Skwisgaar glanced out at them, too, then closed his eyes as he tried to imagine the feeling of their soft flesh against his body. It had been months since he had a girl. Honestly, he was surprised he’d made it this long.

It wasn’t like Toki even explicitly asked him to stop sleeping with groupies. It just felt… wrong. Skwisgaar made the decision on his own, coming up with excuses after every show out of earshot of the other guys as to why he couldn’t sleep with them. The girls always went away disappointed, but not suspicious, as far as he knew.

He wanted to believe he had transcended above random, meaningless sex, that he wasn’t a whore like his mother. That he could actually control himself for the sake of this strange new relationship and all the wonderful things it had to offer.

When he glanced over at Toki he found the rhythm guitarist staring at him, though his pale blue gaze quickly fell. I wasn’t checkings dem out, Skwisgaar silently insisted, hoping to reassure Toki through his facial expression, but the brunet seemed suddenly preoccupied with adjusting his guitar strap.

The other guys had no idea what was going on between the two guitarists, and Skwisgaar intended on keeping it that way. They were not, and perhaps would never be, ready to hear something like that. In order to avoid invoking suspicion, Skwisgaar and Toki kept their public interactions as typical as possible. The others had become accustomed to watching them behave a certain way. Like siblings, almost. Some hatred and competition mixed in with a little brotherly love. Brotherly love, not romantic love. As in, not the kind of love that made you want to stare at the other man as if you were trying to memorize every detail of his face.

Which was exactly how he was looking at Toki right now. When he realized this, Skwisgaar cleared his throat and strode over to the younger guitarist with an air of authority, under the guise of offering musical advice. “You ain’t gonna fucks dis solo up tonight, ams you?”

Though Toki had spent the past few years being spoken to like this, it always seemed to startle him when Skwisgaar addressed him so condescendingly. “Uh-huh,” he stammered, clearing his throat and arranging his fingers over the fretboard. “Wants me to shows you again?”

“Nah, dat’s okay. Saves it for the show.”

Relieved, Toki let his hands fall to his sides. Skwisgaar could hear Nathan, Pickles, and Murderface arguing over who had the biggest tits in the audience. Knowing they were safely distracted, he offered Toki a small smile and gave his shoulder a quick squeeze. It was then that he noticed that he was shaking slightly. Even after all these years, Toki still got nervous before going out on stage... or maybe it was Skwisgaar who made him nervous. “You’ll do greats,” he whispered, and Toki grinned back in an almost relieved sort of way, as if he were pleasantly surprised to find out, once again, that Skwisgaar really didn’t hate him, and that his hostility was all just an act to hide what they had from their band mates.

The stage lights dimmed and Facebones began his introduction. The band would be on stage in a couple of minutes. Toki was still trembling, and Skwisgaar realized he only knew this because his hand was still on his shoulder. Glancing over at the other guys and finding that their attention was still on the audience, he quickly pulled his hand away. Toki turned away slightly, bringing his own hand up to rub at his nose. “You feelings okay?” Skwisgaar asked in a low voice.

“Ja, I’m fines…”

His voice trailed off, and Skwisgaar waited, expecting him to say more. Instead he heard Toki’s breath wavering uneasily. Clamping his hand over his mouth and nose, the rhythm guitarist twisted to the side with a smothered-sounding “Hhnihffshuu!”

Skwisgaar’s blessing was lost in the thunderous applause of the audience. Toki shook his hair out of his face, a dazed look in his eyes, but Skwisgaar shepherded him towards the stage. “Come ons.”

As they stepped out onto the stage he could hear the fans’ usual chants of “DETHKLOK! DETHKLOK!” mingled with fervent verbalizations of his own name. The front ten rows or so were almost exclusively blonde females with huge jugs, waving their arms around in an attempt to catch his attention and shrieking out in explicit detail what they wanted to do to him later backstage. Out of the corner of his eye he could see Toki fiddling with his guitar strap again. If he was jealous, he was pretty good at hiding it.

After soaking up the audience’s praise, Nathan grabbed the microphone and growled out an introduction. “First off, let’s get a round of applause for this old fucking geezer over here.”

Once again the crowd erupted into deafening applause and Skwisgaar experienced that unique sensation of feeling a million pairs of eyes on him. The girls in the front went insane again, screaming at the tops of their lungs and battling to be heard not only over each other, but the rest of the audience. A few curvy blondes were holding a cake that Skwisgaar had somehow missed seeing before. They were taking chunks of it in their hands and smearing the icing all over each others’ scantily-clad bodies. For a brief moment Skwisgaar allowed himself to imagine spending the evening of his thirtieth birthday licking them clean.

Another quick glance in Toki’s direction reminded him that he would probably spend it in bed with a sick Norwegian.

[Masking]

Skwisgaar, I would vastly prefer the night in bed with a sick Norwegian.

[March Hare]

HURR.

I vote for both. All those cake-smeared girls might even be good for the sick Norwegian, too!

But he will have to have the sick Norwegian there because he has to catch that cold it is only fair.

I love the way you write them so, so much. RAWR.

[NameTaken]

Updaaaattte!! Please just write the show, Anony, I'm depressed enough as it is that we only get half the amount of episodes come the last season.

A night in bed with a sick Norwegian sounds immensely promising.

[Anonymouse]

Oh shit, Maru, I didn’t even consider that as an option! What is wrong with me? Unfortunately this isn’t on the adult boards… and as I keep writing I’m starting to regret that decision more and more.

I think I’ll use that though… well, to some extent. Thanks for the idea.

NameTaken, rumor is that there’s going to be a movie after the last season… so we still have that to look forward to, too!

Longish chapter but HEY, more sneezes!

---

It was the first time Skwisgaar felt thoroughly exhausted before the show was even over, excluding the times he played with mono. His entire body was soaked with sweat, which wasn’t very pleasant when combined with the frigid night air. Even the usually stifling stage lights did little to warm him.

There were only a couple of songs left, anyway. He hoped Toki wasn’t too tired to do a decent job on his solo. The rhythm guitarist’s playing was a little sloppy tonight, and every time Skwisgaar looked over he seemed to be growing more and more languid. The audience was only becoming more energetic as the night wore on, and they began clapping and screaming before the band even finished the last few bars of the song. Skwisgaar took a moment to soak up the praise, the one thing that was keeping him going by this point, before glancing over to check on Toki.

But Toki wasn’t there. Instead he saw Charles stride calmly but hurriedly out onto the stage, whisper something in Nathan’s ear, then return to the wing, where a few Klokateers were gathered. They seemed to be carrying something, but before Skwisgaar could examine the situation further Nathan’s hulking body blocked his vision. “Charles wants you to do a solo set to end the show.”

Skwisgaar was perplexed. “Rights now?”

“Yeah.”

Pretending he’d just noticed the rhythm guitarist’s absence, Skwisgaar asked “Where’s Toki?”

“Charles said he felt lightheaded. Went to lay down.”

“Oh.” To avoid sounding too sympathetic, he added “Pussy.”

Nathan laughed. “Yeah. Well, at least he didn’t pass out on stage. That would have been lame.”

Turning towards the still-cheering crowd, the front man gestured towards Skwisgaar. “We’ve got a special treat for you fuckers, even though you don’t deserve it.”

The screams increased a few thousand decibels. Besides bloodshed and metal, there was nothing Dethklok fans liked more than getting insulted.

“I give to you the only good thing to come out of this fucking lame country besides the Swedish Chef, one of the coolest Muppets ever. Give it up for… SKWISSGAAAAAARRR.”

Nathan’s voice exploding through the amp coupled with the roar of the audience nearly left Skwisgaar deaf. Luckily he recovered his hearing just in time to hear the drums counting off. With only Pickles playing along to keep the beat, Skwisgaar was free to do whatever he wished, which was rare. Being in a band was all about compromise. Less technical stuff and more melodic, because that’s what the rest of the band wanted. But tonight was all about him.

By the end he felt reinvigorated, rising from the ashes of his music like a phoenix reborn. The audience was either stunned into silence or exhibiting a degree of respect previously unheard of in an audience of Dethklok fans. They were absolutely silent the whole time, a rare feat for a crowd of a few thousand, and held their applause until five whole seconds after the music stopped. Thousands of faces stared at Skwisgaar in awe and he closed his eyes, letting the echo of the last note ring in his ear, accompanied only by the sound of wind, before it was followed with the loudest round of applause he’d ever heard in his life.

Backstage, predictably, there were hundreds of girls quarreling to get his attention. As he tried to brush by them, nearly getting mauled in the process, he caught Murderface giving him a strange look. He knew what the bassist was thinking – why aren’t you diving right into that pile of poon and motorboating every pair of breasts that gets shoved in your face? – and without thinking he grabbed the two closest girls. When Murderface turned away in jealousy Skwisgaar knew he’d set any suspicions he had to rest, at least for now.

“Yous goils wants to come gets warmed up with me?”

They giggled their assent, and for a moment he believed he was actually going back to his room with these women.

When he realized he couldn’t, in good faith, do that, despite the objections that were coming from his jeans, he tried to devise a plan to ditch them once he returned to the bus. He really wanted to check in on Toki and make sure he was okay, but he wasn’t sure how to go about doing that without getting rid of the girls first. No good ideas were forthcoming – it was difficult to think when your blood supply was being diverted from your brain to your dick – and by the time he was back on the bus he was seriously considering asking Toki if he was up for a foursome. Checking out the girls he’d selected, he realized that they were the ones who had slathered themselves in cake. Toki liked cake. Maybe he’d agree to this, after all.

He knocked on Toki’s door, a move that elicited confusion from his companions. “Why are you knocking on your own door?”

“Oh, dis ams Toki’s room.”

“Toki Wartooth?”

What kind of stupid question was that? This was one thing he didn’t miss about groupies – they tended to be airheaded sluts. The sluts part he didn’t mind so much, but believe it or not he valued some degree of intelligence too. It was part of the reason he was so fond of older women. And Toki. The kid could be gullible, and he did grow up in a sheltered home, but all things considered he wasn’t actually stupid.

“Ja, Toki Wartooth.”

“Do we get to fuck him too?” one of the girls asked slyly, trailing a finger down Skwisgaar’s chest.

Good, so they were open to the idea. “We’ll see.”

He knocked again, louder, hoping Toki would be awake, even if it was just to tell him no. Yes or no, it didn’t matter – he just wanted an answer. He wanted to do the right thing. He didn’t want to have to make the decision for himself, because it was way too tempting to make the wrong one.

Fortunately the door opened and Toki peeked out, squinting and probably still half-asleep. Skwisgaar felt his body flood with warmth at the sight of his sleepy, bewildered expression and his heart melted like a wax candle.

“What’s dis?” he asked, sniffling and scratching his tousled hair in confusion.

“Oh, you poor thing!” one of the girls squealed when she noticed he was clutching a fistful of tissues. “Are you sick?”

Toki answered by furrowing his brow, still not sure why these people had roused him from his sleep, before jolting suddenly to the side and burying his face in the crook of his arm. “Ihh’BFSCHH!”

Now both girls wailed with sympathy, leaving Skwisgaar’s side to grab Toki by the arms and pull him back towards the bed. Skwisgaar felt his face burn with jealousy – not because the girls were paying more attention to Toki than to him, but because they were paying attention to Toki when all Skwisgaar wanted now was to have him to himself.

Toki sat there listlessly as the girls fussed over him, smoothing his hair back from his face and massaging his shoulders. He swayed a little, in a way that made him look slightly inebriated, before resting his head against one of the girl’s shoulders and peering up into her face sweetly. “Ambs you guys nurses or sub’ting?”

This made them shriek with laughter, which made Toki wince. “We can be.”

Finally Skwisgaar trudged over, removing Toki gently from the girls’ clutches. “Okay, dat’s enough.”

“Oh, but we were going to take care of him!”

“He ain’t sick, he’s drunks-”

“No I’be n-nohh’hhh… hihh’ktTSCHHah!”

“-and I forgots tonight was my nights to babysits him. Sos he doesn’t drownds in his own vomits, you knows.”

The girls wrinkled their noses in distaste. Skwisgaar knew they’d be dumb enough to buy it. He could feel Toki slumping in his rigid, dutiful embrace, resting his warm face against the crook of his arm. Shrugging, the girls turned back towards the door. “Fine, then. Could you direct us to Nathan’s room?”

Thank God for sluts and their one-track minds. Let that fat-ass eat cake, then. “Downs the hall, then go rights. Last door on de left.”

Once the groupies had left, their giggly voices fading down the hallway, Skwisgaar relaxed, easing his way onto the bed behind Toki. The rhythm guitarist’s head was still nestled against his arm, and he rubbed his nose against his skin, his breath coming in small pants. “So t-tihh-hihh… hh’ihh!… ticklyyyISHHuu!”

Trying not to laugh, Skwisgaar combed his fingers carefully through Toki’s hair. It was amazing how much he didn’t care that he just missed out on licking frosting off a couple of naked women, now that they were out of sight. “It tickles because you ams sick,” he said.

“Yeah, I’be sick, dot drunks.”

“I knows, but I needed to tell dem goils something to gets dem away.” He waited a moment, and even when Toki didn’t ask for more details, he added “They followeds me back here.”

Toki remained quiet, so Skwisgaar continued to play with his hair, working his way gently through the tangled bits. “So whats happened on stage? Did you passes-out?”

“I thought I was goings to. I gots really lights-headed, so I wendts and tolds Charles and he gots sub Klokateers to helps be back here.” He paused to sniffle noisily. “They gave be sub Duhh’ihh’KSHHHahh! – DyteQuil and dehnd I goes to sleeps.”

NyQuil. Well, that explained the slight drunkenness he seemed to be exhibiting – that stuff always knocked him out flat on his ass. "Sorries I wokes you."

"It's okay."

Resting his arms around Toki’s waist, Skwisgaar buried his face in the nape of his neck. He could feel the rhythm guitarist’s chest rising and falling uneasily, his breath sawing in and out in quick, desperate gasps. “Hihh… hh’hhh-… hih’BSSHHH!”

“Blesses you,” he murmured, nuzzling his skin.

“Hhh’IHBSHHHH!”

“Blesses you, Toki.”

Snurfffff. “… Sgwizgaar?”

“Yes?”

“You ambends’t sleepihgs wit’ be todights, ambs you?”

Skwisgaar kissed the back of his neck, crinkling his nose as a lock of hair brushed against it ticklishly, before sitting up straight. “Ja, I sleeps with you. Unless you don’t wants me to.”

“I just dodn’t wadnts you gettihgs sick.”

“I’ll be fine, Toki.”

After giving him a cynicle look Toki stretched out and buried himself against the lead guitarist’s chest, safely sheltered in his arms. Skwisgaar could feel his feet hanging over the edge, but he didn’t mind. It was more comfortable than sleeping in a pile of bony old ladies and anorexic groupies, or getting crushed to death by an FBL. It had been months since he shared his bed with any women, and when he felt Toki’s warmth, the way he curled against him as if he completely depended on him, the way his lips curved against his chest in a smile at what was no doubt some ridiculous dream he was having, Skwisgaar knew he couldn’t be any happier.

Edited April 13, 2012 by AnonyMouse

[March Hare]

Wahoo! I'm thrilled that you took my idea and made it fit into the story so well Ungh, Toki sounds REALLY hot, those stuffy sneezes, hrrrnnnnh. And I LOVE sneaky contriving Skwisgaar. Also, Nathan is awesome! "The Swedish Chef, the coolest Muppet ever"... I cannot but agree

(Does FBL stand for Fat Bitch League? Or Fancrowds Broken Loose? Or what?)

[NameTaken]

(Does FBL stand for Fat Bitch League? Or Fancrowds Broken Loose? Or what?)

Haha, I believe it mean 'Full-bodied lady', but correct me if I'm wrong.

Aghh, I just love it. Skwisgaar snuggling up to sneezing, exhausted Toki...God, precious babies.

[Masking]

It stands for Fat Beautiful Lady.

OOOOMG. TOKI. Skwisgaar is a very lucky guitarist indeed to have a sick Norwegian to cuddle. And don't think I missed Skwisgaar's nose crinkling - sensitivity, maybe?

[Anonymouse]

"Full-bodied lady" and "fat, beautiful lady" are both acceptable answers. And Masking, I knew you'd pick up on that.

Enjoy these fluffy chapters while they last...

---

Despite having drifted off into a blissful and uninterrupted slumber the night before, Skwisgaar awoke in a pissy mood. Whenever he started the day in a bad mood it usually lasted until he went back to bed. He groaned into his pillow, reaching beside him to grab whichever part of Toki was closest, and felt his fingers closing around empty air.

Startled, he sat upright. It didn’t take him long to find the Norwegian. He had his hands and face plastered against the window like a kid looking through the window of a candy shop. Skwisgaar scowled, shielding his eyes as the sunlight blasted him in the face. “What t-ti-… hh’NGKxsh! ‘NNGTsh! … time is it?”

Toki peered over his shoulder, waiting patiently as Skwisgaar built up to the third and final “Hehh… hh’ihh… hnn’IHXTshh!”

“You amens’t sick, ams you?” Toki asked, concerned.

“No, it… hhihh…” Skwisgaar’s eyes were going out of focus, but he continued to gesture weakly towards the window. Catching on, Toki quickly let the curtains fall back into place, shielding their room from the sunlight. The lead guitarist shook his head slightly, sniffling, and seemed to recover with a sigh.

“Sorries. I forgots you’s allergic to the suns.”

“I ain’ts allergics, it’s just a...” Hesitating, Skwisgaar shook his head again before glancing up at Toki. “How ams you feelings?”

As if he just remembered he was sick, Toki lifted his arm suddenly and rubbed his nose against his wrist, sniffling. “A little betters.”

“You sounds betters.” Skwisgaar grabbed his Dethphone off the side table to check the time. “And you ams awake at elevens in de mornings. You never gets up dis early.”

“Ja, but Charles calls my phones. He calls yours too, but you didn’t gets up.”

Skwisgaar quirked an eyebrow. Today they were free to do whatever they pleased. If Charles decided to force them into some lame parade or last-minute appearance, there would be hell to pay. “What’d he want?”

“Oh!” Toki jumped, a giddy smile on his face. “He says we all gots presents from Mayor Stålnacke. They’s outsides.”

So that’s what Toki had been gawking at. But why did he and the others get presents, too? It was Skwisgaar’s birthday – whatever it was, they should have all been given to him.

But when he finally got up and ready and went outside with Toki to see what his gift was, he found himself wishing he hadn’t been given anything at all.

“Amens’t they neat?!” Toki asked, beaming as he threw his arms around one of the horse’s necks.

Admittedly, they were pretty metal. Literally metal, in some places. Skwisgaar wasn’t sure if they were cyborg horses or just elaborate decorated with metallic armor and jewelry, but he didn’t want to get close enough to find out. The two enormous black stallions beat the snow impatiently with their hoofs, as if they had been waiting all morning for their masters to get their lazy asses out of bed and couldn't wait a moment longer. “I guess Nate’ns and Moidaface and Pickle took the other ones already,” Toki said, glancing around as if expecting to find three extra horses just lying around nearby.

“Ja,” Skwisgaar murmured, his voice barely audible as he gazed into the eyes of the horse standing before him. Well, eye. Horses always looked at you sideways, like they were up to something. Just one of the many things he didn’t like about them.

“Wowee, dis one ams named Rose-en-crantz,” Toki said, carefully pronouncing the name that was engraved in the metal harness of the horse he’d claimed for himself. “What’s yours, Skwi-…”

His voice tapered off when he turned around and saw that Skwisgaar was as white as the snow under his feet. “You okays?”

Reluctantly tearing his eyes away from his horse, Skwisgaar glanced at Toki and forced a smile. “Ja, just… in awes, dat’s all.”

Toki broke out into a grin once more, and he approached Skwisgaar’s horse with an ease that made the Swede envious. “What ams your names?” he asked, and the horse whinnied and nudged him playfully with its muzzle. Clasping his hat to his head to keep the horse from pulling it off with his teeth, Toki peered at his collar. “Guildenstern. Dat ams a real cool name, huh, Skwisgaar?”

Skwisgaar nodded, trying to appear enthused, but despite the distance he tried to keep between himself and the horse he could feel a tingling sense of dread beginning to spread through his body. Even his nose was starting to tingle, but he was beginning to realize that it probably had nothing to do with fear. “Ja, real coo… cools.”

When Toki turned back to his own horse, Skwisgaar took the opportunity to smother a silent sneeze into the sleeve of his jacket. Guildenstern nickered, perhaps offering the equine version of a blessing, though Skwisgaar suspected the horse was laughing at him.

“You ever rides one before?” Toki asked, stroking Rosencrantz’s neck before shimmying up onto the horse, to Skwisgaar’s terror. He held his breath, waiting for the black beast to throw Toki from its back and crush his skull beneath its hoofs, but it merely let out a contented whinny, its breath showing white in the cold air.

“Nevers.”

Toki fought to keep from looking too smug as he galloped his horse around in a circle. “It amens’t that hard.”

Playing the guitar at speeds previously unheard of wasn’t difficult for Skwisgaar, but that didn’t mean it wouldn’t be hard for everyone else. Toki was smirking now as he guided his horse straight towards Skwisgaar, stopping a few feet away. It took all the Swede had to keep from flinching.

“I’m finally taller than yous.”

“No you ahh-… ... hh’ahh…”

Skwisgaar brought his gloved hands to his face, feeling them fill with warmth as his breath hitched. “Hh’ehhhhh…” Even through the thick fabric of his gloves he could feel his face contorting, his nostrils flaring against his fingers. “Hhh’ehhIHNXGSHH! Hh’IHSHHHieuu! Hh’ihh… hihh’ihh!... hhhhuh’IHSHHHoo!”

When he finished his eyes were watering. He swiped the tears away with his sleeve before they could turn to ice – not that that could happen while his face was a few degrees hotter than usual from embarrassment. Toki wasn’t laughing, though. He was petting his horse, trying to keep it calm – the sneezes seemed to have startled it. “You sure you amens’t sick?”

“Toki, I’m fine,” he said firmly. Besides the sudden bout of sneeziness, he honestly didn’t feel sick at all. Just irritated.

Toki looked skeptical, but he shrugged and turned his horse towards Guildenstern. “You going to gets on or are we goings to spend all day just standin’s around?”

“I don’t know hows to get on, Toki,” Skwisgaar replied in an equally sardonic tone. Watching Toki ride around so easily was making him feel a little more confident in his own abilities, but Toki seemed to have a special connection with animals that Skwisgaar never had. Maybe if it was a girl horse he’d have better luck.

“Well, first you gots to get closer.”

Skwisgaar obliged, though not before making a face at Toki. Guildenstern stood there almost too calmly, peeking back at the Swede with his sideways eye.

“Grabs the reins and puts you’s left foot in the stirrup. Right there… ja, that thing…”

As Toki gave his instructions Skwisgaar pulled himself tentatively onto the horse’s back. It was easier than he imagined, and Guildenstern had done him the courtesy of remaining still the entire time. Now that he was mounted, though, the horse shook its head as if in disapproval of this new arrangement. Maybe he was confident that Skwisgaar would have fallen and paralyzed himself before ever reaching the saddle.

“We’ll go slows,” Toki assured him, leaning forward slightly. Rosencrantz took off at a light gallop.

Skwisgaar mimicked his movements as best he could but Guildenstern wouldn’t budge. He moved the reins back and forth gently but that only made the horse shake its head in agitation. “Come ons, you stupid lugs, move.” As his frustration grew so did the irritation in his nose, and he grasped the reins in his left hand as he pinched his nose with the right. “Hh’nngmphshh!”

Any sneezes that might have followed were startled out of him as Guildenstern lurched forward. Whatever he did, whether he unintentionally squeezed the horse’s sides with his thighs or frightened it with the sound, it made the horse start moving, albeit at a slow gait. Skwisgaar clung to the reins as if for dear life, eliciting an exasperated laugh from Toki.

“Wowee, you’s being a real pussy. Thank Odin the other guys amens’t here to see this.”

For once, Skwisgaar had to agree with him.

Edited April 13, 2012 by AnonyMouse

[Masking]

Damns it, Skwisgaar, why you gots to be so allergics to de horse?

LOVELY post!

[March Hare]

I don't know, man... Skwisgaar fucking Skwigelf is allergic to horses. How fucking sexy is that. I am going to topple over.

Brilliant.

[NameTaken]

Ahh, I thought I commented already.

But god...that triple right there in the middle, and how embarrassed he was...nom.

The horse names are adorable too!

[Anonymouse]

Hi. I suck at keeping up with the thousands of stories I have started but never finish. If anyone sees me starting a new story, slap me.

---

By the time they made it into town two things were apparent: one, traveling on horseback was not a popular means of transportation in Kiruna, judging from the perplexed looks they were getting from the locals (though that might have been because they were members of Dethklok, and their horses looked like CGI creatures from a sci-fi movie), and two, Toki was sicker than he seemed when he first woke up. Neither of them thought to bring tissues (not that Skwisgaar expected to find himself allergic to horse hair), so Toki was forced to utilize the sleeve of his coat to wipe away the messy aftermath of every sneeze. Twice Skwisgaar insisted on turning back and just spending the day in bed, but Toki refused, especially after something in a nearby shop caught his eye.

He leapt down from his horse, nearly sliding on the icy sidewalk in his excitement, and tied the animal to a streetlamp. “I be outs in a little bits!”

Skwisgaar was eyeing the pub a few buildings down. A drink and some alone time sounded like a great idea right about now, so after watching the door swing shut he made his way down the road, figuring that Toki would be smart enough to surmise where he’d gone when he saw Guildenstern tied up outside.

Assuming the horse cooperated.

He dismounted Guildenstern even less gracefully than Toki, bracing himself against the brick façade of the pub to avoid slipping. A few passersby stopped to gawk but he quickly regained his composure, trying to appear apathetic as he looked for a place to tie Guildenstern. Any dignity he managed to maintain went right out the window when his feet faltered and he had to grab onto the animal’s neck to keep from slipping again. And just in case that wasn’t awkward enough, he felt another fit coming on. He had just enough time to make eye contact with the horse, silently begging it not to humiliate him further, and held onto it firmly as he ducked his head into the crook of his free arm.

“Hh’knxght! H’hihNNXGuh! Hh… hh’hhh’ISHHHuuh!”

Guildenstern whinnied and jerked his neck away, almost tossing the guitarist headlong into the road, but he managed to grab hold of a streetlamp and steady himself. A long and bitter staring contest between Skwisgaar and the horse ensued, broken only by an amused-sounding female voice.

“Having a little trouble there?”

The familiarity of it made Skwisgaar jump in surprise, nearly slipping again. Peering around the mutinous beast that had just tried to kill him or at the very least make him the cause of a traffic accident, he saw who could only be the lead singer of Fuckface Academy staring back at him, one dark eyebrow raised.

“Oh, Skwisgaar, I thought that might be you… what’s up?”

Her nonchalance in greeting her former band mate and lover floored Skwisgaar, making him question if it really had been twelve years since they last saw one another. She looked pretty much the same, though there was no denying that she’d gotten older. Her hair was black now, with her natural blonde roots starting to show through at the part, but when he left over a decade ago it had been dyed a fiery red. When time passed and he began forgetting, feature by feature, what she looked like, that color never left his mind.

“Oda… hej.”

It took a lot of effort to sound just as unperturbed by this unexpected reunion as she did. Their relationship had been like this until the very end, a competition to see who could put up the biggest wall. It was another thing that Skwisgaar appreciated about Toki – he said whatever was on his mind or in his heart, no matter how lame everyone thought he was for expressing his innermost thoughts and emotions. There weren’t any guessing games with him.

As much as they tried to hide it, neither of them was prepared for this. There was a moment of silence before Oda said “So I hear you have your own holiday now.”

“Oh, ja, I’s finally getting the recognition I deserves.”

It was meant to be a joke, but even though her expression was unchanging he could tell the comment struck a chord with her. Luckily she spoke again before he was forced to come up with an apology.

“I guess that solo career is going well then.”

It took him a moment to realize that this, too, was a joke. Unless she’d been living under a rock for the past decade, she had to know he was now Dethklok’s lead guitarist. He offered her a slight laugh.

“So does the great Skwisgaar Skwigelf have time for a drink with an old friend?”

Guildenstern let out a sudden, high-pitched whinny that made Skwisgaar jump. It was all Oda could do to keep from cracking up. “He can join us, if he wants.”

“Nah, he ain’ts really a people person.”

“Well, neither are you.”

Skwisgaar watched quietly as Oda stroked the horse’s neck. He wasn’t a people person, a horse person… he simply wasn’t a person anymore. At least, he didn’t feel like one. His talent and fame had elevated him to the status of a god. Which was what he thought he always wanted, but nowadays he wasn’t so sure.

Of course, gods probably didn’t suffer from afflictions as human as allergies. Twisting away from Oda and Guildenstern, he buried his face in the sleeve of his coat. “Hh’ehNGHXST! – ISHHuuh!”

He kept his face pressed against the crook of his arm as he awaited the inevitable third, vaguely aware of Oda’s laughter. “You still sneeze like that?” she said.

“Like w-whahh?… ihh’KSHhhuhh!”

“Like that. In threes.”

Skwisgaar sniffled, then surfaced cautiously, the cold air stinging his face. “I guess… why woulds that change?”

“Well, why does anything change?”

Another thinly veiled jab at the person his success turned him into, or was this just her usual pseudo-philosophical rhetorical drivel? Before he could decide she took his arm, gently, and tugged him towards the entrance. “Why don’t you come on in, where it’s warm, and buy me a drink.”

Charles had been uncharacteristically gracious in doling out their spending money, so he didn’t see any harm in buying her a few drinks. At least, until he remembered that he didn’t come here alone.

They’d only been seated for a few minutes, at a booth by the window, when Toki ambled by outside, clutching a brown paper bag and looking very confused. “Is that—” Oda began, recognizing him, and Skwisgaar nodded with a sigh before gesturing for the Norwegian to join them.

“Ja. We comes here togedder.”

“Ooh, together?” Oda asked, raising her eyebrows and smiling suggestively.

Skwisgaar “pfft”ed dismissively at the implication in her tone, though she was, of course, completely correct.

“Heys!” Toki exclaimed, plopping himself into the booth beside Skwisgaar and holding up the paper bag. His face was flushed pink from the cold, his nose even pinker from the constant rubbing. Skwisgaar made a note to swipe a few napkins for him to use in lieu of his sleeve before leaving the pub. “I gots you a birthday gifts but you can’ts haves it until laters!”

And then, before Skwisgaar could respond, Toki whirled towards Oda as if he was just noticing her. “Oh, hi! Who ams you?”

Skwisgaar had to admit, there was something charming about Toki’s blatant lack of social skills. Oda must have thought so, too, as she smiled and held out her hand. “Oda Ivković. And you’re Toki Wartooth?”

Toki blinked, then glanced at Skwisgaar. “How does she knows?”

“Because you’s famous, you stupid dildos.”

“Oh yeahs.” Turning back to Oda with a grin, he took her hand and shook it. As unlikely as it was, Skwisgaar could only hope for Oda's sake that his hand hadn’t been anywhere near his nose in the past five minutes. “It ams nice to meets you.”

“Nice to meet you, too.”

Smiling, Toki placed his bag on the table in front of him before snuggling up closer to Skwisgaar, who did everything in his power to suppress the instinct to look mortified. Though they never really discussed it, mostly because Skwisgaar had a habit of changing the subject whenever it came up, he’d always assumed that they would behave as they always had in public, pre-this, and generally Toki was good about it. Instead of saying anything he scooted in the opposite direction, eliciting a befuddled and slightly hurt look from the brunet.

“So…" She continued to smile. Skwisgaar couldn't recall having ever seen her smile for more than a couple seconds at a time. “How long are you guys here for?”

“We leaves tomorrow afternoons,” Skwisgaar replied, watching Toki fold a napkin into a paper airplane. He nudged him under the table to make him stop, but all he did was stare blankly at him before returning to his task.

“Oh, that’s a shame.” Her expression had returned to its default, unreadable, but Skwisgaar could hear the sincerity in her voice. “Maybe I can take you guys out tonight.”

“Toki’s not—” Skwisgaar began, glancing sideways at the other guitarist, who was staring at some distant point and squinting slightly. Then, in an instant, his expression crumbled, his nostrils flaring as he drew in a deep breath and ducked his head to sneeze openly at his lap. “HH’KSHHHahh!”

“—feeling well,” Skwisgaar finished, pushing a few more napkins towards Toki, though they went unacknowledged.

“Aw, that’s too bad…” Oda stirred her drink before peering back up at Skwisgaar and asking the question she’d meant to ask from the start. “Maybe just… you and me then?”

He opened his mouth to reply but then looked at Toki for input. Input he shouldn’t have needed – it wasn’t like he and Toki were dating or anything, at least not as far as Oda knew. There was nothing wrong with catching up with an old friend, and it wasn’t like he and Toki had anything planned for the evening, plus he told anyone that if they organized a surprise party he would personally slaughter them, so that wasn’t a concern.

Toki furrowed his brow, as if silently asking why this was even a question, before turning away from Skwisgaar and smothering another “HnnKFSCHHah!” against his bare hand.

“Goddamns-it, Toki, use a fucking napkins or somet’ing.”

He didn’t mean to snap – he was just fed up with Toki’s disregard for basic hygiene, especially in front of other people. Toki stared at him petulantly for a moment before snatching a napkin off the table, wiping his hand dry with it, crumbling it, and tossing it at Skwisgaar’s chest. “I’m gonna goes,” he announced, getting to his feet and grabbing his paper bag. “Haves fun tonights. It was nice meetings you, Oda.”

With that he marched out of the pub. Skwisgaar stared after him for a moment before risking a glance back in Oda’s direction. She shrugged, taking a sip of her drink. “I read somewhere that he was… temperamental.”

“Ja, dat’s him,” Skwisgaar sighed. He couldn’t help but feel terrible now, especially since Toki hadn't done anything particularly wrong. Not to mention he went out of his way to buy him a gift. Skwisgaar couldn’t remember the last time he’d gotten a birthday present from anyone. “I, ah…” After pretending to check the clock on the wall he began to slide out of the booth. “I probably need to gets goings too. We haves a meetings back on the bus soon.”

“Oh.” Oda bit her bottom lip before getting to her feet. “Okay.”

Taking a napkin, she cast around for a writing utensil before grabbing a pen from the bar and jotting her number down. “Give me a call later and let me know what’s going on, okay?”

“Sures,” Skwisgaar said distractedly. His gaze was focused on the road outside, on the horse that was steadily disappearing into the distance.

He slipped on his extra coat and stepped outside, squinting through the falling snow in an attempt to locate Toki. Guildenstern was alone, stamping anxiously and shaking his head. Glancing down at the ground, Skwisgaar saw a series of hoof prints in the snow, leading out of the town and into the wilderness beyond.

Edited July 8, 2012 by AnonyMouse

[March Hare]

Oh the lovely angst of it. You're great! They are so wonderfully awkward!

[NameTaken]

Agh, update! And Dramaaaa. Come on, Skwiss, chase him! They are too cute. And Fuckface Academy, lol!

[Anonymouse]

When Skwisgaar was a kid, his mother had a small snow globe collection that had been left to her by her own mother. Whenever he wanted it to snow he would grab one and shake it as hard as he could, sending the tiny bits of white swishing around in their glass prison, and, like magic, it would snow the very next day. Not that snow in Sweden was unusual, but it was rare that Skwisgaar ever felt like he was in control of anything in his life, much less the weather, and there was something comforting in it.

Now it felt like he was trapped in one of those snow globes. The world was lilting around like a basketball spinning on the tip of a finger. Snow seemed to come at him from every direction, clinging to his eyelashes and obscuring his vision. He blinked and wiped at his eyes frantically, grasping the reigns as Guildenstern galloped uneasily through the deepening snow.

It hadn’t taken long to catch up to Toki once he left town. As soon as the other guitarist realized he was being followed he gave his reigns a little flourish and Rosencrantz sped up, leaving Skwisgaar fumbling to imitate his movements so he could get his own horse to do the same. “Toki, waits!” he cried in desperation, before the rhythm guitarist could fade into the white haze in the distance.

Toki did stop, though just long enough to turn around and smirk almost mockingly at Skwisgaar before taking off again at an even swifter speed. “Toki!” the Swede barked, shaking and yanking on his reigns until one of these unknown combinations of gestures signaled Guildenstern to trot faster. “This ain’ts funnies!”

Though it was difficult to hear with the howling wind, Skwisgaar was almost certain he heard defiant laughter as Toki and Rosencrantz weaved in and out of his vision. There were trees now, growing thicker and closer together every second, and Skwisgaar struggled to hold on as he steered Guildenstern between them. “Toki, stops!”

Toki wasn’t even giving him the satisfaction of a response, though he knew he must have heard him, the way he kept looking back over his shoulder and smiling like this was all just some sort of game. It was during one such time, when his attention wasn’t focused on what was in front of him, that his horse began skidding across a sheet of ice, fighting valiantly to remain in control of his splaying limbs before succumbing to gravity.

It wasn’t until he heard the ice crack and saw both the horse and Toki disappear into the ground that Skwisgaar realized that it wasn’t just an isolated patch of ice, but a frozen pond, the surface of which had been broken by the impact of Rosencrantz’s falling body. Jerking on Guildenstern’s reigns, Skwisgaar didn’t even wait for him to stop completely before leaping off his back and plunging through the hole.

The water was so cold he almost went into shock the moment his body was submerged. Trying to keep himself from sinking too far below the ice, he groped through the darkness until he felt his fingers close around another hand. Grabbing it tight, he kicked his legs as hard as he could until his head broke through the surface of the water. He gasped, his lungs filling with air so cold that he swore he could feel his alveoli crystalizing, and tried to claw his way out of the pond. His nails kept sliding off the ice, so he hoisted Toki up and pushed him out first before grabbing onto him with one arm and pulling himself out with the other. He could feel the water bubbling at his feet and the frantic, thrashing waves caused by Rosencrantz struggling somewhere beneath them.

Closing his eyes, Skwisgaar gave one last push and felt his and Toki’s bodies slide across the ice like a pair of hooked, defeated fish. The frozen surface gave another ominous crack and in an instant he was on his feet, dragging Toki to solid ground. The water continued to slosh over the edges of the ice, the last few bubbles breaking through the surface. Skwisgaar clung to Toki and watched the water become still again, only vaguely aware of the fact that the rhythm guitarist’s chest was still rising and falling beneath his thick, sopping jacket.

When the numbness wore off Skwisgaar tore off his coat, shivering as the wind hit his wet skin. He wrapped it around Toki, who trembled and dug his fingernails into Skwisgaar’s arms as if to keep himself from falling back into the water, though they were now a safe distance from the pond.

“What the fucks you’s problems?” Skwisgaar exploded, more out of fear than anger, once he was able to stop his teeth from chattering long enough to speak. “Why didn’ts you fuckings stops when I tolds you to stops?!”

He could hear Toki whimpering, his face buried against his chest and his body shaking violently. “I tolds you to fuckings stops,” he repeated, though he could feel his anger beginning to fade, both from exhaustion and from sympathy for Toki's sorry state. “You never fuckings listens...”

“I'm s-so... so sorries, Skwisgaar!”

Toki began sobbing, sliding down Skwisgaar’s lap and making no effort to pull himself back up. Skwisgaar watched him rub his face against his leg, crying and sniffling and shuddering as he tried to regain control of his breathing. “I ams my f-faults he dieds... just like everyones else..."

Skwisgaar stared at the now calm water and remembered when Toki’s father had drowned, remembered how Toki crawled across the ice on his hands and knees, pounding desperately against the frozen water as his father sank into the blackness.

Wrapping his arms around Toki, Skwisgaar rocked him gently. They were both shivering so violently that it was hard to keep a solid hold on one another, but Skwisgaar held on as tightly as he could, as if Toki would slip back into the darkness if he so much as loosened his grip. “No... I’m sorries… for alls of it.”

For his father, for Rosencrantz. For being the reason he felt he had to come out here in the first place. Even if he didn’t want to profess their love publicly, there was no reason Skwisgaar had to act like a complete asshole to Toki when they were out together. Toki responded by giving Skwisgaar’s arm a light, forgiving squeeze, his eyes closing as he rested his head against his shoulder.

They sat there for a while, the snow piling up around them. Skwisgaar was sure they would freeze to death if they didn’t start moving soon, but he couldn’t even feel his legs to stand up. Toki murmured something and rubbed his nose against his chest. “Whats?” Skwisgaar asked, prompting the rhythm guitarist to lift his head and blink dizzily.

“I drops-ed your p-present…” he said, his voice cracking slightly as he began tearing up again.

“Toki, it’s fines… it aint's a big deals.”

“B-buts I—… hihh’ihkPTSCHhh!”

Skwisgaar shushed him gently, cupping the back of his wet head and pressing his face against his shoulder. He could feel Toki's breath quaver uneasily before another "KHPPFSHH!” burst out of him, warm and damp against Skwisgaar's chest.

"Blesses you... heys, we ams standings up now, okays?” he said, hoping his own legs were up to the task. “We needs to go backs to the bus.”

“The bus ams rights there.”

Skwisgaar actually glanced around until he realized that Toki was looking up at the sky. There was no bus up there, nor a dethchopper, nor a dethjet. “Those… ams clouds, Toki.”

“Charles!”

He leapt up, his legs wobbling, and Skwisgaar was forced to stand up and grab his arms to keep him from falling. “Comes on, Skwisgaar, grabs onto the ladder!”

“There ain’ts no ladder,” Skwisgaar said firmly, trying to make him understand that whatever he thought he saw wasn’t actually there. “We ams out in the middle of nowheres. We haves to finds our way backs into town.”

Toki stared at him so blankly that Skwisgaar was beginning to wonder if he hit his head on the ice when Rosencrantz fell. “No ladders?”

“No ladder, Toki. No nothings. Nots right nows.”

Going pale, Toki grabbed onto Skwisgaar’s arm and leaned against him listlessly. “But... I’m tireds...”

Skwisgaar sighed, holding Toki close. “Ja... I knows.”

Guildenstern was nowhere to be found. He probably took off in the other direction the moment Skwisgaar jumped down from his back, startled by the chaos of the situation. Any prints he might have left behind were covered by the falling snow. Skwisgaar couldn’t even figure out which direction they came from. Someone else was shaking the snow globe now, and he felt completely helpless.

Deciding that any direction was better than none, he wrapped his arm around Toki’s shoulders and began trudging through the thickening snow, hoping that the other guitarist’s visions weren’t born of delirium, but an ability to predict the future.

Only time would tell if Charles would come to their rescue, and Skwisgaar wasn’t sure how much of that they had.

Edited May 23, 2012 by AnonyMouse

[Masking]

Oh god, poor boys. Poor horse. Let's hope they find the bus soon.

[NameTaken]

Nooo, Rosencrantz! Poor baby :'( And obviously, Toki and Skwisgaar aghh. You are a fantastic writer, I cannot stress enough. And I just love how Skwis doesn't even mind Toki sneezing on him, like, ever. It's just adorable.

[Da Greenz Yo]

AHHHHHH, I love this so much! Smiles, laughs, tears, you have the whole package here. XD Aw man, I love when you write Metalocalypse.

[March Hare]

Oh noes Oh the angst! Oh the feelings! Oh the fangirling And, oh you wicked cliffhanger-writer. Loving it!

[ichixshiro14]

Gahhhhh must. read. more!!!