And Back Again
Sequel to 'There and Back Again'

Rating: R
Category: AU
Pairing(s): Nathan/Charles, Skwisgaar/Toki, Murderface/Knubbler.
Warnings: Some angst, exploding boobies, general Dethklokian weirdness
Summary: Charles dreams of the past, and deals with the present
Notes: This is the much-requested sequel to 'There and Back Again'.

Nathan stood outside the door to Charles’ office, watching him tear about in a fluster, getting ready for… something. Beside Nathan stood Skwisgaar, and the two watched as Charles ran around like a teenager before the prom, and their oldest roadie Badger tried to placate him.

“Charles calm down.”

“I can’t calm down. This weekend means a lot to me. Are you sure you’ll be all right in charge until Monday?”

“Charles I’ve been looking after Pickles since he was sixteen, and the others for about five years now. I can look after the boys for a weekend.”

“Why do they always talk about us like we can’t be left alone for five minutes?” Nathan asked Skwisgaar.

“Mights has somet’ings to do wit’ us blowings every cent we is havings an’ drinkings bleach.”

“Oh yeah, we did do that.”

“I just want this weekend to be perfect,” said Charles.

“It will be perfect,” said Badger. “When is he coming?”

“Seven-thirty. I can’t wait to see him again. A weekend in the Bahamas, just relaxing, lying in the sun…”

Skwisgaar looked puzzled. “Does Charlies has a boyfriend?”

“I think he does,” said Nathan. “Wonder why he didn’t tell us?”

“Woulds you introducing you boyfriend to us?”

“Considering you guys stole every girl I brought home and then organized them into a self-help group for chicks who had dated Nathan Explosion? No.”

Skwisgaar laughed quietly. “Ja dats was good.”

In the office, Badger organized Charles’ bags into an orderly heap. “Charles it’s going to be perfect. I don’t see why you’re all knotted up.”

“Because it’s my birthday Sunday and I think Lloyd is going to commit.”

“Uh-oh,” said Badger. “Sounds like you and I are going to have to have The Talk.”

“Please Badger, my father gave me that when I came out of the closet. I would like to not be embarrassed like that again.”

Badger straightened up and stared at Charles. “Your dad gave you The Talk?”

“My father is a lovely man. But he is very old fashioned and does not understand homosexuals in the least. Ergo he treats his gay son like a straight daughter.”

“Well that’s not mortifying in the least,” said Badger dryly.

“What time is it? It’s Lloyds’ birthday today and I have plans to take him out for dinner and give him his gift before the plane departs.”

Badger glanced at his watch. “Seven-twenty pm.”

Charles actually flitted over to the window to look for his Prince Charming, eyes bright and hopeful. Skwisgaar nudged Nathan.

“Let’s be goings. Shouldn’ts be spyings on Charlies likes dis.”

“Yeah seeing him act like a ballet dancer is kinda creeping me out too. C’mon. Let’s get something to eat and go hang in the hot tub. Discovery channel is doing a two hour special on aquatic dinosaurs.”

“Only if you nots grabbings my ankles! Dat scares me! I nevers go swimmings in da ocean again!”

Nathan and Skwisgaar went off to watch the dinosaurs. Two and a half hours later, Nathan was passing the office on his way to the kitchen. He noticed it was dark inside, and he simply assumed that Charles had left for his weekend getaway. However as he passed the partially opened door… he heard a voice. Nathan paused, and listened. It was Charles, and he seemed to be speaking on the phone.

“Lloyd I don’t understand, you were supposed to be here… what do you mean nothing was set in stone?! You were standing right there when I bought…”

There was a long pause, and Nathan felt his stomach drop. He had a very bad feeling about what was coming next. He didn’t feel any better when he heard Charles’ trembling voice.

“What are you saying? You…. You couldn’t have said this to my face?” Another long silence, then a quiet sound that Nathan knew meant Charles was in tears. “So what you’re saying is since your birthday is today that your gift to yourself is dumping me.”

Nathan slowly backed up, turning back towards the main fire hall, where Skwisgaar was still in the tub with Toki and Pickles. Not far away Murderface sat on the couch. They glanced up as Nathan came in.

“What’s problem?” asked Skwisgaar.

“Lloyd made Charlie cry,” said Nathan.

There was a long, cold, angry silence, and five sets of eyes glowed red.

“No one makesh Charlie cry but ush,” growled Murderface.

***---***

“Charles?”

Charles was sitting in the dark on the floor of his office, crying as if his heart was broken… which it was. He had been seeing Lloyd for eighteen months, and for the first time in his life he was with someone who felt like Forever. He could see himself living with this man, carving a life for himself in the middle of the chaos that was Dethklok, and being happy.

He had ignored the letters from Lloyd’s ex-lover that had come when he and Lloyd first began seeing each other, passing the distraught man off as simply someone who could not handle the fact that the relationship was over. The man had warned Charles that Lloyd was cold, soulless, and thought purely in terms of his own happiness. When Charles was no longer shiny and new, Lloyd would find some other pretty toy. But Charles had seen no sign of Lloyd being cold. He seemed warm and loving and gentle, he seemed sincere and kind, he seemed to be everything Charles had been looking for.

Until tonight, when Lloyd finally called him two and a half hours later to let him know that they would not be going to the Bahamas, at least not together. Lloyd was already there, with a twenty-year-old aspiring singer, and had been for several days. Charles had simply become too much effort and responsibility, and Lloyd had found something new. So as a birthday gift to himself, he was breaking up with Charles.

“Well don’t take it personally,” said Lloyd.

“How the hell can I not take it personally?”

Lloyd sighed and hung up. He was done with Charles. It was simply not his fault if Charles chose to be upset about the matter.

“Charles,” said the quiet voice again, and this time it seemed to penetrate into his brain. It was Nathan’s voice, cracking the shell of the misery that surrounded Charles. He looked up from his seat on the floor, eyes swollen and red-rimmed, his face wet. He shoved a hand through his brown hair and sniffed.

“Hi,” said Charles weakly.

“Hey.” Nathan walked over to him and sat down on the floor. This was not an easy thing for Nathan to do – he was hardly old but years of playing football had left him with knee and hip joints that sounded like miniature gunfire when sitting in certain positions, such as cross-legged on the floor. Charles smiled despite himself.

“That sounds like it hurt.”

“Yeah I’m in great shape, my knees are screwed from playing football, and all the years of windmilling have left me with a head that unscrews. I mean… not that I really use it.”

Charles managed a quiet little laugh, and sniffed. He looked down at the cotton hankie he held, realizing he had soaked it with tears and snot. He tossed it into the trash and was searching for another when Nathan offered him one. Charles accepted it.

“Why do I have the feeling you know what this is all about? Me sitting in the dark crying.”

“Yeah well I was… kinda… in the area when it started to go down. I’m sorry Charles. Breaking up sucks anyway but… yeah what he did was cold.”

Charles stared down at the black hankie, tugging at it, turning it over in his hands. “He told me he had something really special planned. I thought he was going to commit.” Charles shook his head. “I feel so stupid.”

“Hey,” said Nathan quietly. “You’re not stupid. Lotta guys out there would love to be with you.”

“Yes, I know. I manage the finances of the seventh largest economic power on the planet. I get hit on constantly. Never by anyone who wants me, they just… want to cuddle up to the money. I thought Lloyd was different.”

“Charles…”

“Nathan if you don’t mind I’d… really like to be alone.” He let out a quiet, bitter little laugh. “I’d like to do maintenance on my programming.”

“Charles you’re not a robot.”

“No, if I was this would be easier.”

Charles stood up and walked quickly away, fleeing into the safety of his private chambers. At least he had the weekend off. He would need it to compose himself. He hated the fact that he could break down and cry like a baby. Guys were not supposed to cry. Guys who managed enormous corporate power DID. NOT. CRY.

Charles went into the bathroom, leaving the light off, sobbing. He undressed in the dark room and stepped into the shower, turning on the water so he could cry in peace. He had loved Lloyd. He had never dared to let himself do that before. He had loved him, let him into his life, shared all his fears and secrets. He’d talked about what their life would be like together…. How the fuck could he have been so stupid?

He cried in the shower until his fingers began to wrinkle, then finally left the security of the darkness. He made up his mind to take a sleeping pill. Normally he avoided medications of any kind, other than a little brandy. But he needed to rest, and he couldn’t in his current state.

He was reaching for the drawer in the bedside table where he kept his pills… and paused as the phone resting on the top of the small table began to ring. It was Lloyd’s number. As if drawn by some strange siren song, Charles picked up the receiver and raised it to his ear.

“Hello?” he asked in a quiet voice, made rusty by hours of weeping.

“Oh Charlie, it’s Lloyd, listen I was just thinking about that project we talked about last week, and I thought if you didn’t mind terribly we could discuss…”

Charles hung up, quietly, listlessly. He had no strength left. He was heart broken and humiliated, and Lloyd, quite clearly, neither understood nor cared. Charles was crying his eyes out, feeling as if he would die of his broken heart, and Lloyd was in the Bahamas with some pretty male bimbo named Davy Hades.

Charles raised an eyebrow. Why did that sound familiar?

Charles rose from his bed and went into his office, unlocking his top desk drawer with a key from the pocket of his robe. He searched through the drawer, and pulled out an assessment on a band Lloyd had asked Charles to look over. They were an up and coming little band called Dead Lights, and Charles’ assessment had been highly enthusiastic. They stood to become quite popular, especially with their feral and charismatic lead singer…

“Davy Hades,” whispered Charles, and closed his eyes.

Used. He’d been used. He’d been wooed and courted and made love to so Lloyd could wrangle a consultation out of him that would normally cost thousands of dollars. Dead Lights now had the CFO moneymaking seal of approval, and all for the low, low price of one broken heart. Charles lowered his head, feeling the tears start again, but now so did the rage; a dark, violent rage born of being toyed with. He had meant nothing to this man whom he had loved so intensely, whom he had trusted, and shared his body with. He was just a means to an end, and now that end was met, he was dismissed.

He began to shake, gasping as he fought through the pain to breathe. So Lloyd didn’t care that Charles’ heart was broken, hmm? He would. By all the gods of all the ages, he would heartily regret the day he mistook Charles Foster Offdensen for some naïve schoolgirl.

Charles checked his watch. It was eight am in Los Angeles. Time to start making a few phone calls.

***---***

Charles went through Lloyd’s career like a Tasmanian devil through a carcass. No stone was left unturned, and the worms revealed beneath writhed helpless in the daylight. And the worms were many. Shady business practices, breeched contracts, criminal investigations that stalled for lack of proof, even an affair with a fourteen-year-old girl. By the time the cops came to drag Lloyd away for embezzlement, he was living in a station wagon up on blocks. His first phone call from prison was to the man whose heart he had tossed away like so much used tissue.

“Charles for God’s sake!” he pleaded, his voice tinged with hysteria.

“Well don’t take it personally, Lloyd,” purred Charles.

“Charlie whatever I did, I’m sorry!”

Now to deliver the coup de grâce.

“Oh I helped Dead Lights find a new manager. I signed them with a personal friend of mine and helped them get a contract. You know they’re amazing, they already have their first gold record. And such nice boys, really very sweet. Davy and I had coffee together and had a very long chat. He’s really quite bright, if a little young and naïve.”

“Charles…”

“Goodbye Lloyd. Be sure to let me how prison goes, hm? Bye bye.”

He hung up, and sank into the leather chair behind his antique oak desk. He’d ruined Lloyd’s life and taken away the only thing he did care about; his band. Too bad it didn’t make him feel any better.

“Charles?”

Charles looked up, blinking as he saw all five of his boys before him. “Yes?”

Nathan looked uncomfortable. Poor sweet dumb lummox – heart the size of a Buick, brain the size of a walnut, and all the social graces of a constipated rhinoceros. Charles watched as Nathan tried to put his stalled brain into gear and force out a sentence.

“Well we were thinking, me and the guys, and uh… yeah. This is an intervention.”

Charles blinked. He blinked again. He coughed.

“I beg your pardon?!”

“Charles we really need to talk about…”

“Look boys it’s sweet of you to care, but I assure you I have neither a drinking problem, nor a drug habit, and there are no resources for cherry pie addiction.”

“No, you just had your heart ripped out and used for toilet paper, and for the last five months you’ve let our careers and yourself rot while you went after some nothing douche bag. Have you looked at yourself in the mirror?”

Nathan showed him a small mirror, but Charles refused to look at it. He knew what he looked like. He’d seen the red rimmed eyes, the sunken features, the hair grown long and unkempt, and the suits in need of dry cleaning that hung from his wasted frame.

“I’m fine.”

“Uh huh. You’re going on vacation.”

“Nathan I don’t…”

Nathan leaned across the desk and roared full into his face; “NOOOOOWWWW!”

Charles scowled, then purposefully picked off his glasses in order to wipe away the flecks of saliva dotting them. “Alright fine, I can go shopping for an afternoon.”

“NO! You’re going on vacation now, and I’m making you.”

Nathan walked around the desk and over to Charles, picking him up and slinging him over his shoulder. As Charles dangled there, momentarily at a loss as to what exactly he should do, Nathan carried him out of the office and down the hall that led to the small helipad.

“Nathan, put me down.”

“No.”

“Put me down, Nathan.”

“Make me.”

Oh guys like him really shouldn’t say things like that to guys who knew how to kill with pressure points. Charles delivered a quick jab to Nathan’s spine, not enough to hurt him, but just enough to give the spinal cord a brief shock. Nathan folded up and dropped to the ground as if he’d been shot in the head. Charles stood up and dusted himself off as Nathan lay on the stone floor, confused and quiet.

“DOOD!” said Pickles, green eyes large. “Charlie killed Nathan!”

“You bastard!” said Skwisgaar.

“He’s not dead, he’s just momentarily incapacitated. Now if you boys will please… whup!”

Nathan’s hand shot out, caught Charles around the ankle, and yanked his feet out from under him. Charles hit hard, cracking his wrist as he landed on the stone. He rolled onto his back, eyes squeezed shut in pain. Slowly, Nathan sat up.

“If you’re gonna land me on my ass, don’t stand there afterwards. Cause… yeah I’m gonna react.”

“Noted,” said Charles, wincing as he held his wrist.

“Are you gonna be good now?”

“Do I have a choice?”

“No.” Nathan grinned broadly. “’Cause… we went into your files and records and figured out how to stop your pay if you don’t behave. So uh… we’re… suspending you until you… take sick leave.”

Rotten shits. The five of them together couldn’t put batteries in a remote, but sort complex financial data to dock his pay? Sure no problem. He should let the damned Tribunal have them; they’d give them back fast enough.

“So where do you want to go on your vacation?” asked Nathan.

Charles rubbed his throbbing wrist. “Anywhere but the Bahamas.”

***---***

“Charles?”

“Hmm?” Charles opened his eyes and blinked in confusion at the man beside him in the bed. “What is it?”

“You were talking in your sleep.”

“Hmm? Oh. Sorry.” Charles closed his eyes, shifting onto his side, feeling Nathan spoon against his back. “I was dreaming about that time you made me take a vacation with you. After Lloyd.”

“So it was a nightmare.”

Charles smiled. “Was not.”

Nathan gave him a light squeeze, then kissed the back of his neck before settling into a light doze once more, lulled by the quiet sound of the tour bus’ engine. Charles raised his head to look at the other people in the gigantic dethbed. Pickles was a lump with a pair of feet sticking out. Not far away was Murderface, also a snoring lump, Knubbler clutched protectively against him. And on the far side of the bed were Skwisgaar and the ever-increasingly fat and nasty Toki Wartooth. Charles narrowed his eyes as he gazed at Toki. There was something up with that boy. He really hadn’t been right since that night he and Skwisgaar made love in the grove in Norway to seal their commitment vows.

“We need to get Toki checked by a doctor,” Charles said quietly to Nathan.

“Yeah good luck with that,” Nathan growled. “He’s been bitchy as hell. If he was a chick I’d say he was having his period. And he’s been having it for four months.”

“He has been a little testy,” Charles conceded.

“And he’s getting fat. He’s fat and testy. We have a fat testy rhythm guitarist.”

Toki raised his head and looked at Nathan. “Does I sayings bad t’ings abouts you when you asleeps?”

“No,” said Nathan. “But you’re not asleep.”

“I nots testy! I just nots feels good.”

“Toki,” said Charles, “you’re nauseous, headachy, irritable, and you have an obvious mass forming in your middle. You’re going to the doctor. You could have a tumour.”

“I don’t wants to!”

Skwisgaar stirred, and nuzzled up to him. There were murmured Scandinavian endearments, and finally Toki relented.

“Okay. Buts I hates it.”

“You’ll be fine.”

The great bus drove on through the night. They had a performance the following day; just one show; a massive event featuring three other bands, the evening ending with Dethklok performing Dethharmonic with an entire orchestra. It was an all night concert, with fireworks, and an audience of tens of thousands in an open canyon, playing to the stars while a trio of comets that had not seen earth in millennia passed with the slow grace of royalty.

Charles sincerely hoped they didn’t mess it up. But more than that, he…

“Hopes dose groupies nots dere again,” mumbled Toki.

Pickles wiggled his way out from under the covers. “Yeah what is up with them?”

“It’s not like persistent groupies are new,” said Charles. “And what about the ah… Deth Sluts?”

“That’s different! They’re fun!” said Pickles. “We hang out and have a good time! They’re our friends.”

“And these other girls..?”

“Act like we’re supposed to wanna… I dunno… be with them.” Pickles found a new position and settled himself once more. “Creepy.”

“Well I’ll have the Gears keep an eye out for them,” said Charles. “Let’s just try to get some sleep. It’s a big day tomorrow.”

There was some rustling, then there was silence. For about a half an hour, all was quiet.

“Hey Skwisgaar,” Toki announced in the darkness. “I t’inks my tumour just move.”

***---***

Charles stood in the VIP box, overlooking the venue, sipping expensive brandy. Below him on the stage, Nathan was performing his heart out, and while Charles’ eyes never left him, his mind was far away.

The dream had been so vivid, almost too vivid; even seeing parts of it through Nathan’s eyes. He could swear his wrist was still sore from the fall. But that had been years ago; three years in fact. Lloyd had served his time and moved on, never to bother Charles again, and Charles had built a surprisingly stable and nurturing relationship with a guy who had a grade ten education, the IQ of a fence post, and had recently grabbed Pickles by the balls to make him sing higher.

He had a wonderful life. He was happy, loved, and wanted for nothing.

So why was he dreaming about Lloyd? Wasn’t that tantamount to reliving his favourite moments of vomiting? Psychologists claimed that for there to be hate, there had to have been love. Well he had loved the bastard right enough. Then he had hated him. Now he just… felt nothing. Of course that might all be different were he to…

“Charlie?”

Charles felt his stomach drop. Oh lord please don’t let it be…

The tall man stepped in front of him, and smiled.

“Charles! It is you!”

Charles stared at him, feeling a veritable collision of emotions within himself. “Lloyd… what are you doing in my box?”

Lloyd smiled that easy smile. Prison hadn’t taught him a damned thing, Charles could see. It showed in the way he moved, and smiled, and the way he clearly had no idea that Charles could not be fooled a second time.

“Well I heard Dethklok would be in the area, and I know you don’t like to let them out of your sight, so I thought I would show up and let you know that… I forgive you, Charles.”

He said it with such slick easy benevolence that Charles could not help but wonder how long he had practiced in front of the mirror. Lloyd smiled at him, the very picture of grace, magnanimously letting the sinner know that the sin was mere water under the bridge, and they could start anew.

“Uh-huh,” said Charles flatly.

“I was hoping we could have a drink, and talk over old times.”

“And which old time would that be, Lloyd, the time you buggered off to the Bahamas with a twenty-year-old, or the time I found out you used me?”

“Oh come, Charles, that was three years ago! I’ve forgiven you, can’t you forgive me?”

“Forgiveness from a liar means very little, Lloyd. Forgiveness from a liar who sees himself as the abused means even less.” Charles felt his breath hitch, and he hated himself for starting to cry, but could do nothing to hold back the tears. “You laid me on a rack and tore me apart, piece by piece. And then you told me not to take it personally. Well you know something, Lloyd, I took it very personally, and the only time you ever showed the slightest inclination towards wanting me back and making it better was when you realized that without me you are nothing. I’m not perfect, Lloyd, I make mistakes. But you are one mistake I refuse to revisit. I won’t get fooled again.”

“Charlie, please…”

”Lloyd... there is a very large Gear outside, who is very easily distressed. I would really hate to have to call him in here to beat the shit out of you.”

“Can’t we just have a drink together? Two old friends?”

“You’re no friend of mine. Besides, my husband doesn’t like it when I go drinking with bastards.”

“Well you don’t have to tell him, do you?” said Lloyd, grinning.

“I tell Nathan everything.”

Lloyd raised an eyebrow. “Nathan, hmm? Well, well, I see now why you’re so faithful. I’d hate to lose that as well.”

“I don’t love him because he’s rich. I love him because he’s Nathan.”

“Oh of course, sure. I often find myself falling for fat, stupid and ugly. Saves me from the stereotype of tall, dark and handsome.”

Charles punched him, striking him hard enough to send Lloyd stumbling backwards and onto his ass. Charles then fled, darting past Badger and making his way to the green room. He bolted inside and slammed the door, then fell onto the nearest couch, curling up as if trying to protect himself from an impending blow.

He hoped Badger beat Lloyd into a smear.

Charles remained curled up on the couch until, forty minutes later, Nathan slogged in, hot, sweaty, and tired. Charles sat up and reached for him, and felt the weight of the world lift from his shoulders as Nathan knelt before him and held him tight.

“What’s the matter?” asked Nathan.

“Lloyd was here. In the VIP box where I was watching the show. Just blew right in and wanted to start up where we left off. Said he forgave me.”

Skwisgaar was indignant. “He is forgivings YOU?! Oh ja, we havings discussions abouts dat right now.”

Skwisgaar grabbed up his guitar by the neck and began stalking his way towards the VIP box, Murderface right behind him. Charles had no idea if Lloyd was anywhere in the area or if he had fled with a couple dozen Gears hot on his heels, but he was touched that they would want to stand up for him. Toki waddled over to sit beside Charles and offer sympathy-hugs.

“Is okies, Charlies. We loves you.”

Charles smiled. “Thanks Toki. That means a lot to…”

A locker abruptly broke open with a loud bang, depositing onto the floor a short female with brown hair, along with some of Toki’s personal items and unmentionables. She straightened up, and gave them a sheepish smile.

“Hi!”

“Oh boy is crazy lady again,” muttered Toki.

Charles forgot his own pain for the moment, focusing on the intruder. “And just what do you think you are doing here?”

“I um… got lost looking for the bathroom?” She smiled coyly, trying hard to be cute, standing in a chastised-little-girl way in her three inch heels.

“So, naturally, having not been able to find the bathroom, it was just a logical next step to steal from the band,” said Charles.

“I just wanted one small item! That’s all! I just wanted something of Toki’s so I could cast a love spell on him and make him mine forever, ‘cause… y’know, it’s gross for guys to be shagging other guys. He needs a woman to make him happy. And I am totally that woman. He doesn’t need that blonde slut, come on! Fucking Skwisgaar Skwigelf would be like doing it with a bus station toilet. I’m totally the only choice. And Casey loves Pickles! I mean come on, she’s gorgeous, and talk about hooters, man I wish I had tits like that. What is wrong with you guys? I thought guys LOVED massive fucking hooters.”

Nathan had moved over to Toki and gently drawn him close. He had a funny feeling that in a moment Toki was going to be done asking himself if this bitch really did just compare the man he loved to a toilet, and the delayed nuclear blast would be devastating.

“Casey would be the one who spent an hour one night explaining to me that she’s really a princess and Nathan’s half-sister, right?” said Pickles dryly. “And she has super special magic powers?”

“She is a princess! Really! I mean just because the Yannemango tribe doesn’t have any sort of obvious hierarchy doesn’t mean she’s wrong.”

“If she’s Yannemango then I’m Chinese,” said Nathan.

“She told me she’s half Cherokee,” said Charles.

“She is!” insisted the intruder.

Charles was about to call for security when Toki got through asking himself if he had really heard just what he thought he heard, and found he didn’t much care for the answer. He rose up like Thor in a rage, grabbing his guitar and screaming something in Norwegian that did not sound friendly. Wielding the Gibson like a war hammer, he charged for her, and put a monstrous hole in the wall that would have been the offender’s head had she not ducked. Nathan managed to grab him, and held on to him with all his might while she fled like a scalded cat, Toki screaming insults in several languages. Pickles got the guitar away from him, and Nathan yelped as Toki bit like a shark in an attempt to get away and chase after his quarry. Charles sighed and called for security, as well as the band’s doctor. He had a funny feeling that Toki would require sedation, and Nathan would need stitches.

Toki broke loose, Nathan releasing him and grasping his bloody hand, swearing. Pickles tore after Toki, who was intent on homicide, chasing him into the hall. There was a lot of tussling, banging, then a bizarre sploosh! noise followed by a shriek. Moments later, Pickles walked into the green room, covered in wet saline and looking decidedly traumatized.

“Better call a doctor. Toki just accidentally popped the tall chick’s left boob like a zit.”

Charles raised an eyebrow. “Bet that’s one special magic princess power she wishes she didn’t have,” he muttered.

***---***

The bus drove along quietly into the night. No one was asleep yet, but it would not be long now; they were all worn out from the show. Toki was fussing endlessly over Skwisgaar, who did not seem to mind, though he was a little confused as to why Toki would be apologizing for an insult he had not dealt. Murderface was protectively cuddling Knubbler as always, Pickles was a bundle under the covers, and Nathan was trying to talk Charles into a little luvin’.

“Not with a bed full of people,” said Charles.

“Aw come on, it’s not like they mind,” said Nathan, nuzzling close against Charles’ back, his enormous erection nudging against Charles’ bottom.

“I mind!” said Charles indignantly.

“Why?”

Charles gave Nathan a light jab with his elbow, trying to make the big oaf and his boner back off. “It’s just… wrong.”

“No it’s not. Toki and Skwisgaar do it.”

“Toki and Skwisgaar wait until the lights are out and are quiet about it. YOU would do it on a public beach at high noon.”

“Hey who told?”

Charles grinned, then elbowed Nathan again. “You are worse than a randy dog.”

“That’s only because you’re such a hot bi…”

“Watch it, Explosion.”

Pickles suddenly sat up and walloped Murderface with a pillow. “GIT YER ASS OFF MY BACK!”

“IT’SH COLD AND LONELY!”

“WELL STICK IT ON KNUBBLER, GAHD!”

“I hungries,” Toki announced.

Dutifully, Skwisgaar crawled out from under the covers, stark naked and beautiful, to get his husband something to eat.

“Toki we’re getting that lump checked when we get home,” said Nathan. “You’ve been eating like three horses. It’s probably cancerous.”

“Leaves my lump alone, is nots hurting anyone.” His blue eyes became large. “Hey my lump is kicking me.”

“We’re getting it checked!”

“Aw you just mad because Charlies nots givings it up.”

“Darn straight Charlie’s not,” grumbled Charles. His elbow met Nathan’s diaphragm, but it didn’t seem to bother him much.

Skwisgaar returned with munchies, which Toki seemed to pretty much inhale. Sated, he lay down, cuddling close to Skwisgaar. Pickles and Murderface exchanged a few more thumps and shoves, then they too settled down… after Knubbler threatened to leave. Finally all was silent, save for the soft whisper of the air filtration unit, and the barely-felt vibration of the bus as it drove along.

Charles lay in the dark and thought about Lloyd, sorting his feelings, wondering why he had cried when he had seen him again. It made little sense; he would have sworn he’d left all the feelings about him, the good and the bad, far behind. Maybe it was because he had loved the bastard, and even after all this time there was still something hurtful about knowing he had given his heart to someone who truly hadn’t loved him at all, but had just used him.

“Nathan?”

“Yeah?”

“You really do love me, right?”

“Yeah. I do. I love you.”

Charles smiled. “Good. I love you too.”

There was silence for a while, then the familiar soft rustle and shift of sheets, and the whispers in another language that meant Toki and Skwisgaar were making love. Charles sighed in exasperation as he felt something once more nudge against his bottom.

“Nathan…”

Nathan nibbled his neck, then reached down to slip one hand into Charles’ shorts and touch the tight hole he desired.

“You never wanted to do something a little kinky?”

Charles elbowed Nathan rather more forcefully. “I don’t want someone to flip the lights on and humiliate me.”

Pickles raised his head. Charles could almost see his eyes in the dark.

“Charles,” said Pickles quietly, “even if every damned light in the bus goes on, no one’s gonna humiliate you. We’re family.”

“Look don’t you people find this just a tiny bit strange?” Charles asked.

“Yeah it can be da first couple times,” said Toki, who was currently straddling Skwisgaar. “But helps if someone holds you hand da first time.”

Charles pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed. “Un-fucking-believable.”

“You wants me to holds you hand?”

“No, Toki, that’s very sweet but, uh… no.”

“Okies.”

Eventually things settled down. Toki and Skwisgaar finished their love-making, and soon all took on the profound, still peace of deep night, when everyone was asleep, and the only sound was breathing. Charles was just starting to drift off when he realized one creature was still stirring…

“Nathan!” Charles whispered.

Nathan nibbled his neck, then his ear, growling ever so softly. Charles felt his resolve melting as Nathan continued to touch and tease him. He lay in the dark and considered the situation, and the large and very appealing ox behind him. Okay, it wasn’t conventional. But it wasn’t as if Nathan was asking him to have an orgy, or do anything that didn’t seem perfectly normal to him. And the other guys were sound asleep. Maybe it was okay. But… it was scary, and his heart was banging for reasons other than passion when he finally felt Nathan carefully push into him. It just seemed so very wrong. And… anywhere else… it would be.

Charles closed his eyes, and smiled faintly as he felt someone reach out to take his hand.