Boyfriendklok

Rating: R
Category: AU
Pairing(s): Nathan/Charles
Warnings: Devonshire cream.
Summary: Family is what you make it.
Notes: The idea that Crozier is Charles’ father is my own personal opinion and not supported anywhere in canon. I know that. There’s no need to keep pointing it out to me

“You don’t have to do this,” said Charles softly.

“I know,” said Nathan. After a moment, a worried expression crossed his face. “Would you rather I didn’t?”

Charles stepped forward to put a few adjustments on Nathan’s gorgeous black tuxedo, smiling. “Now why would I not want you to come?”

“Charles you know why you wouldn’t want me to come. Look what I did to Finland.”

Charles finished fussing with Nathan’s tux, then stood on his toes and kissed him. “Just don’t summon any trolls and we’ll be fine.”

“I’m not making any promises.”

They left Charles’ private quarters, stepping into the hall, where the rest of the Peanut Gallery were waiting. Charles steeled himself for the usual family drama that ensued when one member of the pack went off to do something without the other four.

“Oh GHAD they match,” said Pickles, taking in the black tuxedos. “Ahfdensen what is it with you and matching tuxedos?”

“Yeah! You look like the top of a gay wedding cake,” said Murderface.

Skwisgaar lowered his head to delicately sniff Nathan, then pulled back, coughing and waving his hand to clear the air. “Is worse dan we thunk. Dey is even smellings da same.”

“Hey, be nice,” said Nathan. “This is expensive shit we’re wearing.”

“Is still shit,” said Skwisgaar.

Murderface sniffed as well, then stepped back and looked disdainful.

“That is the shingle most un-metal thing I have ever been exshposhed to, and I’ve met Barry Manilow.”

“I don’ts know ifs we shoulds be lettings Nat’an go off wit’ dis guy,” said Toki. “What’s his intentions?”

“Yeah what do you two have planned?” demanded Pickles.

“Well,” said Charles, “I plan to take him to my parents’ house in time for my mother’s birthday diner, get him drunk, and then take advantage of him in the back seat of an imported luxury automobile, possibly the Mercedes, preferably the Rolls.”

“We’re good with that,” said Pickles.

There was the inevitable uncomfortable pause. Dammit these boys did not like to let each other out of their sight. Given that the better part of their lives had been nothing but loss and betrayal it wasn’t hard to understand why. Charles had known that dating Nathan meant dating the rest of the band as well, but he hadn’t really understood how intensely co-dependant they were on each other. Remove one member, the other four fell apart.

“I’ll have him home by tomorrow evening,” said Charles, then added, “And maybe we can all do something together.”

And there it was, that unspoken little phrase hanging in the air oh-so-silently yet palpably, like an elephant in a pink fairy gown dangling from the ceiling ‘What’s this ‘we’ shit, shorty?’ Great. It had taken him years to get them to accept him, and now that he was dating Nathan suddenly he was facing an acute case of ‘Daddy’s new girlfriend’ syndrome. He would probably come home to find they had chewed his slippers. It wouldn’t be the first time.

“I’ll be home tomorrow evening ya big babies,” said Nathan. “You can hold on that long.”

They refused to be placated. Instead they just watched as the pair left. Charles sighed quietly once he and Nathan were out of sight of the others.

“Well that was tense,” said Charles.

“We’re just not good with change,” said Nathan. “None of us. It’s never been good in the past. If you and me are dating then that means they have to deal with you and me starting a life together, which might mean them getting left behind, or… you and me having a really ugly break-up, which will… y’know… have an impact on them as well. We’re the only stable family we’ve ever had and if it looks like something could… y’know…. destroy it…”

“Nathan there is nothing that would make me hurt you boys, or break you up. I know how much you all mean to each other. I’m perfectly willing to put up with the weirdness.”

“I know. They know that too, they’re just a little scared right now.”

They went over to Charles’ impressive grey Bentley, Nathan getting in the passenger’s side, Charles behind the wheel. It was a beautiful late summer evening, and Charles lowered the top on the stately convertible. Then they set out on the long drive that would take them to the large estate where Charles had grown up.

The road was dark and scattered with leaves; early harbingers of autumn. Trees lined the road, their branches hanging overhead like a living canopy. The world was peaceful and beautiful, and the air was fragrant with the scent of living plants. Charles glanced over at the large man seated beside him, his long black hair blowing in the wind.

“Nervous?” Charles asked.

“Yeah,” said Nathan.

“Don’t be. They’ll love you.”

Nathan gave Charles a jaded look. “They won’t love me. No one loves to see their beautiful, intelligent, highly-educated child with the seven figure income walk in the door with an ass-scratching Neanderthal.”

“Nathan you’re a multi-billionaire. Trust me, they’ll love you.”

“I don’t want them to love me because I’m rich.”

“I know. But with this crowd you have to take what you can get. I love them but they’re very shallow people. Money is everything. If you took a bath in the punchbowl they’d think it was charming, so long as you were rich enough.” Charles thought about what he had just said. “Please don’t take a bath in the punchbowl.”

“I won’t. That’s more of a Pickles thing anyway.”

“Well Pickles is small enough to fit in a punchbowl.”

They drove on for over two hours in the peasant warm darkness, finally reaching a pair of massive iron gates bearing a heraldic crest featuring a winged horse. They were locked across a cobblestone drive, the polished silver on the Pegasus glittering in the headlights.

“Is that your family crest, or… just something pretty on the gate?” asked Nathan.

“No that’s the Offdensen family crest,” said Charles, smiling.

“Huh.” Nathan studied it. “Pegasus ‘passant reguardant’ on a field of green. Your family were poets and intellectuals.”

Charles’ jaw dropped. “Nathan how did you know that?!”

“Well that’s what a Pegasus on a crest represents. I like heraldry an’ medieval… stuff.”

Charles stared a bit longer, then laughed. “Nathan you never fail to astound me. I truly don’t know why you think you’re dumb.”

“Hey I am the guy who ate your laser pointer.”

“Yes, well, your strange obsession with my laser pointers aside, you’re not stupid. Just… wholly inscrutable in your actions.”

“Huh?”

“I have no idea why you do the shit you do.”

“Oh. Well that’s okay, I’m not real sure either.”

A man came to open the gate for them, and they drove the Bentley up the long curving driveway to the front of the great manor. Charles stopped the car, stepping out as the same man who had opened the gate for them jogged up to park the vehicle. Nathan stepped out and looked up at the great stone house that was probably over two hundred years old.

“Like it?” asked Charles.

“Needs a vampire,” said Nathan.

Charles laughed, walking over to Nathan to take his arm. “Come on. You look beautiful. I can’t wait to show you off.”

They walked up the wide stone steps to the front door, and were admitted by a man wearing a butler’s uniform. He smiled broadly at Charles.

“Welcome home, sir, it has been too long.”

“Thank you, Alfred, it’s good to be here. Alfred, this is Nathan.”

The man turned to Nathan, smiling. “A pleasure to meet you.”

There was a long silence as Nathan fought desperately to behave himself. Finally Alfred sighed.

“Just get it out of your system, sir, you’ll feel better.”

“Where’s Robin and the Bat-Cave?”

“The Bat-Cave is three levels down and Robin is probably off snorting crack and whining about how bad he has it. And if you’re looking for Master Wayne he’s off picking up hookers in the Batmobile with Heath Ledger.”

“I like you.”

“Thank you, sir.”

They walked into the massive house. Nathan paused briefly, clearly feeling a little nervous. He was fine in his own domain, but this was not his domain. This was very clearly someone else’s, and a social circle in which he did not belong. Charles squeezed his hand.

“It’s okay.”

Nathan didn’t say anything, keeping his concerns to himself. Together they walked to the entrance of the great ballroom, and paused so that a servant could announce them.

“Master Charles Offdensen and Nathaniel Explosion.”

Heads turned. Nathan seemed to be wondering if he shouldn’t just flee the situation. Charles gently tugged his hand.

“Come on Nathan, it’s all right.”

“I am so out of place here.”

“You’re doing fine, Nathan. Just relax.”

They walked down the wide set of marble steps and into the great ballroom, where they were met by an older woman in gown that would have been perfectly acceptable at any party in Georgian-era England.

“Charles! You look wonderful! Come give your Auntie Jane a kiss.”

“Hello Aunt Jane,” said Charles. “It’s good to see you. Aunt Jane, this is Nathan.”

She turned to look at Nathan, studying him as if he were a horse she was considering purchasing.

“Rather homely, isn’t he?” she said to Charles. “And with that face he has to be foreign, don’t you think? Honestly, Charles, it was fashionable to date brutes last year, can’t you keep up with the trends?” Jane then asked Nathan loudly and clearly; “DO YOU SPEAK ENGLISH?”

“Nathan speaks English very well, Auntie,” said Charles.

“Well he doesn’t look very bright.”

“He’s the twelfth largest financial power on the planet next to Belgium.”

That shut the old bird up. She turned sheet white and her eyes became positively enormous.

“Mr. Explosion I’m dreadfully sorry!”

Nathan stared at her coldly for a long moment, and then looked to Charles.

“Charles, can you please tell your aunt I don’t like being discussed to my face, and that my four-year-old cousin has better manners than that? I’m gonna grab something to eat.”

Charles smiled as Nathan walked away, heading over to the buffet table to help himself to a few morsels. Charles turned his attention to his aunt once more. The woman at least had the good grace to be mortified.

“Well how was I to know?” she said defensively.

“You had no right to be so rude to my guest,” said Charles. “Even if he was a high school janitor you had no right.”

“Well who is he?”

“Nathan Explosion, the lead vocalist of Dethklok.”

“So he’s a rock star.”

“Yes.”

She breathed out a sigh of relief. “Thank goodness, for a moment there I was afraid I had insulted someone important.”

Charles gave her that cold little stare that usually preceded something unpleasant happening. But this time he simply followed Nathan over to the table.

“I’m so sorry about her,” said Charles.

Nathan shrugged. “It’s fine. But right now I’m kinda wishing you were dating Murderface. Or Pickles.”

Charles winced. “No I think I chose the right man.”

“Pickles and Murderface would have had a better response.”

“Pickles and William are just a little too difficult to rein in. Especially Pickles. At least William is ninety-five percent posturing. Pickles goes off like a nuclear weapon. If the initial blast doesn’t kill you, the ensuing fallout will.”

“Pickles wouldn’t hurt anyone who didn’t hurt him first,” said Nathan.

“I’m aware of that. The trouble is my family kills with ten thousand paper cuts. It’s a comment here, a look there, a veiled remark heard in passing… Pickles would ignore the first hundred and fifty little remarks and then I’d suddenly be prying him off someone’s throat. But I am sorry about Aunt Jane.”

“Ah it’s fine. I’m used to people like her. Ever since I was young. I mean… I look a lot like my mom, but… I mean… in a lot of ways I don’t. For years people would… you know… look at my mom and dad, and then me, and then say something like… oh it was so nice of you to adopt a kid. Or… maybe not say anything at all but… you could tell they thought my dad wasn’t my dad. And the next person who calls me ‘Tonto’ I swear I’ll… I mean my great-grandfather was Amazonian, not… well I can’t say he’s not Native American because his people were here thousands of years before anyone else. You don’t get much more native than that. The point is I’m used to people treating me like I just crawled out of a cave. I’m big, I’m kinda scary looking and I don’t open my mouth a lot because… I mean… you know… it’s hard for me to talk. So… I don’t care about her.”

“It’s still not fair.”

“Yeah well that’s fine. I’m ugly but she’s old and I can get plastic surgery.”

Charles suppressed a laugh. Nathan lowered his head to nuzzle at him, smiling as Charles gently touched his face.

“Charlie. Good to see you.”

Charles looked up, and saw his father waking towards him. Almost without thinking he put himself between General Crozier and Nathan.

“Father. How nice to see you.”

“I see you brought a friend.”

“Yes,” said Charles. “Dad, this is Nathan. Nathan, this is my father, General Crozier.”

Nathan and Crozier studied each other. Nathan clearly had no idea who Crozier was, and was not especially interested in talking to any authority figure in a military uniform. Crozier studied Nathan coldly, as if waiting for him to suddenly transform into something vile from the seventh level of Hell. There was a strained silence. Somewhere in the distance a dog howled.

“Well I’m getting some punch,” said Charles.

“I’ll join you,” said Nathan.

They left Crozier and strolled to a different buffet table.

“Wow. Intense,” said Nathan. “What’s his problem?”

Charles smiled. “He’s convinced that you’re the reincarnation of a dead Sumerian musician who has been cursed through all eternity and will bring about the Apocalypse.”

Nathan. Just. Stared. His eyes were large, and his jaw hung. He gave Charles one of those looks that in a cartoon would have been accompanied by the abrupt screech of a chimpanzee for a sound effect. Sadly no chimps were present at the time.

“You’re kidding me,” said Nathan.

“Believe me I wish I was. Ooh! Pie!”

Nathan looked from Charles to the man in the dark uniform standing a short distance away, then looked back at Charles, who had deftly helped himself to three different kinds of pie

“I always suspected that the military had the best mind-altering drugs,” muttered Nathan. “You know, Charles, if you eat all that you will turn into a pie.”

Charles kissed him. “Then you’ll just have to eat me.”

“Uncle Charlie!”

Charles was pounced on by twin girls. They were wearing matching lavender gowns, their long black hair tied up in flowered ribbons. They were fifteen years old, and his favourite nieces. They were also his only nieces. They were currently accompanied by their grandmother, who was adjusting her glasses as she studied Nathan.

“Charlie I don’t remember you being this tall,” said the old woman.

Charles reached out to lightly tug her sleeve. “I’m over here, Auntie. Nathan this is my great aunt Agatha, and these are my nieces, Sarah and Samantha. Agatha, girls, this is my friend Nathan.”

The girls stared at Nathan, blinking. Then Sarah gasped.

“Oh… my god!”

Samantha finished the thought. “Nathan Explosion is doing Uncle Charlie!”

Nathan and Charles watched as the two girls screeched their fool heads off, clutching each other and bouncing around in a giggling circle. Agatha looked annoyed and confused.

“Doing what to Charlie?”

Charles intervened in the situation before it got out of hand. “Aunt Agatha, would you like some pie?”

“Oh I suppose. Who’s this?”

“Grandma!” exclaimed Sarah. “This is Nathan Explosion, the lead singer for Dethklok!”

“Oh.” The little old woman looked him up and down. “My goodness you’re big. You sing in a band?”

“Yeah, I’m a singer,” said Nathan.

“Oh! Do you know Glen Miller?”

Nathan gave Charles a worried look. Charles sighed as his cell phone went off and drew the device out of his pocket. He groaned inwardly as he recognized the number, answering the call.

“Hello Toki.”

“Dere’s a monster unders my bed!”

Charles pinched the bridge of his nose between his thumb and forefinger. “Toki there is no such thing as monsters.”

“Dere is!” Toki was clearly hysterical. “Is huge demons rat from Hell! Is unders my bed makings horribles noises!”

“Toki it’s not a demon rat.”

“It is!” he wailed. “Is ugly horribles monster an’ no one is here to makes it go away!”

‘No one’ being Charles, of course. Only he knew the proper way to chase off monsters. Only he could possibly rescue a six-foot, two-inch, two-hundred-pound Norwegian from something that was in all likelihood just a large mangy rat. Funny how no matter how miffed they got with him, they all ran to daddy when things got stupid.

“Toki, can you put Pickles on for a moment?”

Toki did. “Hay-lo,” said Pickles happily, clearly stoned off his ass. Once again Charles thanked the gods that Pickles was a passive, happy stone. If he had been aggressive and angry he would have made Charles’ life a living hell.

“Hi Pickles, it’s Charles. Is there an animal under Toki’s bed?”

“Yeah! It’s a huge mama possum with a pile of babies. I tried telling him that but he won’t listen. Do they have possums in Norway?”

“No I don’t believe they do. Is there someone who can get it out from under the bed?”

“Dood no way, those things bite. It’s okay though, Toki is gonna go sleep in your and Nathan’s room.”

Charles mentally counted to ten and then slowly exhaled. “Well that’s just swell.”

“You gonna be home tonight?” asked Pickles.

“No I don’t think so,” said Charles. “Why?”

“No reason,” said Pickles innocently.

“Tell Murderface that my leather slippers are off the menu.”

“Oh we’re not eating your slippers this time.”

“Well I’m very glad to hear that. So what are you doing?”

In the background, Charles heard Skwisgaar call out to Pickles; “Hey dey is gots vids-eos tapes unders da bed!”

“Call ya later Charlie,” said Pickles happily, and hung up. Charles swore and closed his phone, leaving his nieces to go in quest of Nathan, who seemed to have escaped during the phone call. Charles located him by the bar.

“Nathan may I talk to you privately for a moment?”

“Sure. What’s the matter?”

“The guys are in our room, watching our tapes.”

Nathan stared back at Charles, blinking big green eyes. “And?” he said.

“What do you mean ‘and’?! They are in our room watching our tapes!”

“So what do we care if they watch some of those old movies? Toki loves watching ‘Legend’.”

“If they were watching ‘Legend’ I wouldn’t care, but those are not the tapes they’re interested in.”

Nathan looked puzzled. “Well what other movies would…?” Then he let out a squeak of pure terror and hauled out his dethphone, calling home. “Skwisgaar what the hell are you guys doing?”

Pickles and Murderface were in the background, howling with laughter. “Oh we is just watchings a tape,” said Skwisgaar. “Here, I puts you on speakers.”

“You put that tape back right now!”

“It’sch jusht getting good!” said Murderface.

“What’s dey goings to do wit’s da rope an’ da noodles?” asked Toki.

Nathan slapped a hand over his face. “Guys, seriously. Put the tape back.”

Pickles suddenly shrieked in horror. “OH GAHD DOOD I WILL NEVER EAT SPAGHETTI AGAIN!!”

Nathan hung up and looked at Charles. “They’re determined to be rotten.”

“Well colour me surprised.” Charles sighed. “Nathan I can’t say I’m really very happy to have our private intimate moments become public viewing.”

“Look they’ll watch a tape, decide it’s no fun if we’re not calling up every five minutes freaking out, and forget about it.”

“Well what tape are they watching?”

“The uh…. The one with… the… spaghetti.”

Charles almost had a fit on the spot but Nathan grabbed him and quickly hustled him out of the room. “Charles this is not the time or the place for you to have a meltdown.”

“I’ll kill them with my bare hands!”

“You’re not killing anyone, you’re our lawyer, if you go to jail we can’t get you out.” Nathan pressed a glass of wine into his hand. “Here, have a drink and calm down.”

Charles downed the wine, then ran a hand through his hair. “I don’t get paid enough for this.”

Nathan handed him another glass of wine. “They’re just upset. Just give them time.”

“They’re upset?!” Charles sighed heavily. “I would have liked to have waited a while before adopting four special-needs kids.”

“Charles! I heard you were here!”

Charles turned his head and spied a tall woman in a long silvery gown walking towards him. He dutifully glued on a smile.

“Hello Mother, happy birthday.”

She walked up to Charles and hugged him tightly. “Oh I’m so glad to see you here. Is this your friend?”

Charles finished hugging his mother, releasing her and stepping back. “Yes. Mother, this is Nathan. Nathan, this is my mother Charlene.”

Charlene Offdensen looked Nathan up and down, then turned to Charles. “So does he speak English?”

“Yes,” said Nathan.

Charlene did not look at him. She continued to address her son. “And what schools did he attend?”

Charles narrowed his eyes. “Mother I am not playing this game with you. Either you speak with Nathan or we’ll leave.”

Her brown eyes became large. “Charles whatever can you mean! We’re just having a…”

“Mother you may address Nathan or we will leave.”

She rolled her eyes. “I’ll be back to speak with you when you’re done being silly.”

Nathan and Charles watched as she moved gracefully away. “So what was that about?” asked Nathan.

Charles shook his head. “She doesn’t like you.”

“Well why not? I didn’t even say anything.”

“I don’t know. Frankly I don’t care why. But I’m beginning to remember why I left home.” Charles’ phone rang. He answered it. “What do you want, Pickles?”

He was screaming with hilarity. In fact all four of the boys were. Skwisgaar was laughing so hard Charles had difficulty recognizing his voice. Charles raised an eyebrow.

“What are you boys doing?”

There was more high-pitched laugher, then finally Pickles managed to catch his breath.

“‘MAKE ME HOWL LIKE A DOG, BIG FELLAH’?”

“Pickles, there is a special place in Hell for you.”

“You are so fucking cute. Seriously. You are so fucking cute. Hey we wanted to ask you what all that static was at the end of the first tape.”

“Static?”

“Yeah there was like… some static and some pictures of buildings and some other weird stuff.”

“Oh that,” said Charles. He reached into Nathan’s pocket and pulled out his phone, handing it to him. Nathan took it, though he seemed puzzled. Charles continued speaking to Pickles. “Yes, well, the main reason I had that particular tape under the bed is because it is actually a cursed video tape. You’ve seen the movie ‘The Ring’? Well that’s actually based on a true story and… well Nathan and I watched that tape and then we had to make a copy and pass it on in order to save our lives. Then we tried to record over it but… well… as you can see we were not successful. How long ago did you watch it?”

“It just ended a couple minutes ago.”

“Oh. Well in that case the phone should be ringing any moment.”

Nathan grinned, suddenly realizing what Charles wanted him to do. He opened the phone and called a number. Seconds later there was the shrill ring of the phone in Charles’ bedroom. There was a chorus of screaming, followed by the sound of stampeding feet, and then the line went dead. Charles ended the call.

“That’ll teach the little shits to dig into my private things.”

Nathan closed his own phone. “So what was on the end of that tape?”

“Nothing, really,” said Charles. “I tried my hand at film-making once upon a time and discovered I wasn’t especially good at it. The tapes I was most embarrassed by I recorded over.”

Nathan put his phone away, then drew Charles close. “I love a devious man in glasses.”

Charles kissed him softy. “I’m sorry about my aunt Jane and my mother.”

“It’s okay. It’s not your fault some people are jerks. Hey uh… not that it’s any of my business but… how come your name is Offdensen and your dad’s is Crozier?”

Charles shook his head. “I don’t know. Probably has something to do with prestige or some bullshit I don’t understand.” He slid his arms around Nathan’s large body and nestled against him, closing his eyes. “Next year I’m staying home.”

Nathan kissed him gently, lowering his head to touch noses. “You just relax here. I’ll get us something to drink.”

Nathan left in search of alcohol. Charles walked out of a pair of enormous French doors to step onto the marble balcony beyond it, closing his eyes as he felt the warm wind wash over him. He had spent a great deal of his youth on this balcony, hiding from the shallow and petty
small-mindedness of his own family. He strolled over to the railing and leaned on it, enjoying the smell of the evening wind, and the sound of crickets and small frogs.

“Mind if I join you?”

Charles did not have to look to know who was speaking. “Hi Dad.”

Crozier came to stand beside Charles. “It’s nice to have you here.”

“Frankly I’m sorry I came,” said Charles.

Crozier chuckled quietly. “Let me guess. Either your mother or your Aunt Jane, am I right?”

“On both counts,” said Charles. “I keep forgetting what a pack of bigots I’m related to.”

Crozier offered Charles a cigar. Charles rarely smoked, but his father always had the best cigars, and he always found them too tempting to resist. He accepted the hand-rolled Havana, breathing in the smell of the tobacco leaves untainted by the chemicals used to make cigarettes burn continually. He bit the end off, then held it for his father to light.

“They’re good people,” said Crozier. “Just… sheltered.”

Charles drew the fragrant smoke into his mouth. “And what’s your opinion of Nathan?”

Crozier shrugged. “As a member of the Tribunal, that’s classified. As your father, I think you could do better. He’s dumb as a post, unattractive as hell and has a voice that frightens small demons. I don’t know what you see in him.”

“He’s utterly without guile,” said Charles softly. “There is not a mean or manipulative bone in his body. He’s gentle, loving, and so damned grateful to be with me. He tells me daily I’m too good for him. He makes me like myself. I know he’s not perfect. He frequently does things that just leave me dumbfounded, and I swear he’s going to turn me grey before my time. But he’s loving and loyal and utterly devoted. And frankly I think he’s damned sexy.”

Crozier gave his son a sour look. “Well maybe if I shared your fondness for enormous men I’d see it.”

Charles smiled, brown eyes warm and distant as he leaned back against the stone railing of the balcony “He tries so hard to be everything I want and need. I couldn’t do better than Nathan. Even with his problems. He’s so damned special.”

“Charles,” said Crozier softly, “tell me the truth. Just between you and me, off the record. This… curse…”

Charles sighed quietly. “I’ve seen some… very strange things happen around the boys. I can’t pretend I haven’t.”

“So they are part of the Metalocalypse.”

“I think they are,” said Charles softly. “But not in the way the Tribunal seems to think they are. Those boys are harmless, Dad. I know they like to pretend they’re big and bad and mean but… they’re just scared little kids alone in the world with no one else to depend on but each other. And if they are a part of this curse, then they’re a tool of it, not the cause. I think there are much larger forces at work and the boys are being used.”

Crozier nodded. “That’s… pretty much what I’ve come to believe as well. Thanks Charlie.”

Charles smiled. “So does that mean you approve of my date?”

Crozier looked over his shoulder, watching through a large window as Nathan walked over to a tray and picked up two glasses of champagne. The tray tipped over, throwing crystal glasses into the air, which struck a servant carrying a platter of meat. The servant cried out, accidentally flinging meat in all directions as she pulled the platter up to protect herself from flying glass, sending a very large carving knife airborne. It parted Aunt Jane’s wig to the scalp before imbedding itself into a wall. Crozier watched as his wife slipped on spilled roast beef and did a graceless and very un-ladylike pratfall onto her butt. Nathan hastily beat a retreat, heading towards the balcony where Charles stood.

“Well he’s certainly amusing,” said Crozier. “Sure is ugly, though.”

“He’s hung like a racehorse,” said Charles.

Crozier winced as if he had been physically struck. “Charles I don’t need to know that and I could have happily lived the rest of my life without knowing it.”

Nathan stepped onto the balcony, walking over to Charles and kissing him before offering him a glass of champagne. Crozier walked away to give them their peace.

“Sorry about almost murdering your aunt,” said Nathan.

“That’s all right,” said Charles. “The world needed to be saved from her wig.” He looked up at the night sky, marvelling at all the stars that were visible. “It’s so beautiful out here.”

Nathan pressed against his back, one hand on Charles’ shoulder. “Look, there’s Mars. See it?”

Charles looked in the direction Nathan indicated, and smiled as he spied the distant red dot. “I do.”

“‘And so we pass on by the crimson eye of great god Mars as we travel the universe,’” said Nathan quietly.

Charles looked over his shoulder at his large lover, who was watching the red planet that hung in the distance.

“Who said that?” said Charles. “Isaac Asimov?”

“Nah,” said Nathan. “Geezer Butler.”

“You’re joking.”

Nathan shook his head. “No, it’s from ‘Planet Caravan’ by Black Sabbath.” He cleared his throat, and sang softly;

We sail through endless skies,
Stars shine like eyes,
The black night sighs.

The moon in silver trees,
Falls down in tears,
Light of the night.

The earth, a purple blaze,
Of sapphire haze,
In orbit always.

While down below the trees,
Bathed in cool breeze,
Silver starlight breaks down the night.

And so we pass on by the crimson eye
Of great god Mars
As we travel the universe.

“Wow,” said Charles.

“Yeah I love that song,” said Nathan.

“Not very metal,” Charles teased gently.

“Yeah I know, but… I love it.” He nuzzled Charles. “It’s nice to be away from the kids for a while, isn’t it?”

“We should check on them,” said Charles, reaching for his cell phone. Nathan gently stopped him.

“The kids are all right,” he said. “Put the phone back.”

Reluctantly, Charles did so, smiling as Nathan slid his arms around him. They stood together in perfect serene contentment. There was no need to speak. Everything was in blessed peace and balance, the stars above aligning to bring about a moment of utmost harmony…

The glass door opened, and Charlene appeared, cleaned and primped and dragging along with her some prep-school trust-fund entitlement jerk. He was tall and blonde, with broad shoulders, a beautifully sculpted face, and the dead eyes of one who has been handed everything in life on jewelled dishes. Charles braced himself for the inevitable.

“Charles!” said Charlene. “I want you to meet Biff Remington. He just moved here from England. His family is very prestigious. His father owns several large diamond mines and they have been diamond merchants to numerous royal families. Biff, this is my son Charles.”

“A pleasure to meet you,” said Biff. He looked at Nathan. “Oh how charming, you’re an Indian, aren’t you? Or whatever they’re calling themselves these days.”

“Yannemango, actually,” said Nathan.

“Oh how precious, you’re from one of those little Amazonian tribes. So what do your people do, weave trinkets out of bird feathers and take tourists ‘round on sight-seeing trips?”

“No,” said Nathan. “We’re cannibals and head-hunters, descended from a blood-letting cult that existed during the time of the Mayan Empire.”

Biff’s smile became rather plastic. “Oh how quaint.” He tried to laugh off the tension. “Well you haven’t eaten anyone recently, have you?”

“No, which reminds me…” said Nathan. He looked down at Charles. “Are you hungry?”

“I could use a bite,” said Charles.

Biff fled.

“Charles you chased him away!” said Charlene.

“I had to,” said Charles. “Nathan would have eaten him alive.”

“Charles I do wish you would stop being difficult.”

“He’s not difficult,” said Nathan. “I don’t have any trouble at all pleasing him.”

Nathan and Charles left the balcony, leaving his mother rooted to the spot, aghast at what Nathan had just said. Nathan had been heading for the buffet tables, but Charles stopped him, standing on his toes to whisper into Nathan’s ear.

“Wanna go have messy drunken sex in the back seat of a white Rolls Royce?”

Nathan grinned. “I thought you’d never ask.”

Charles liberated a bottle of champagne from an ice bucket, then he and Nathan walked to what had once been horse stables, now converted into a multi-car garage. The Rolls sat in its stall, blue-white and silver, the windows tinted so none could see inside. Nathan and Charles entered the car, locking the door once they were inside, and fell back onto the white leather seat. Within moments, clothing, shoes, phones, and one pair of eyeglasses were discarded and left scattered on the floor of the beautiful automobile. Charles knew his mother well enough to know that the small fridge in the tiny bar would have clotted cream in it. She never went anywhere without it. He couldn’t imagine why she wasn’t eight hundred pounds from eating it all the time. He grabbed a jar and handed it to Nathan.

“What are we gonna do with this?” Nathan asked.

“Well it’s oily and slippery, so… guess.”

Nathan opened the jar and sniffed, then grinned. “Oh yeah, Skwisgaar brought a couple cases of this stuff back from England once, and he and I… never mind.”

Charles blinked. “You? And Skwisgaar?!”

“Oh come on, Charles, everybody’s done Skwisgaar. Even Murderface has done Skwisgaar. Probably you as well.”

Charles scowled at Nathan. “Just pass me the cream.”

Nathan did, grinning. Then he dove for a second jar of the stuff. Within minutes the inside of the Rolls was covered in a liberal coating of Devonshire cream. The seats were slick with expensive imported dairy product, the windows were smeared with it, there were footprints on the roof, and Nathan and Charles were a tangled pile of flesh and limbs on the floor.

“I never trashed a Rolls before,” remarked Nathan, slowly working cream into Charles who was down on his knees before him, his upper half resting on the leather seat.

“I don’t know if it’s trashed, exactly,” said Charles. “But it will certainly need a cleaning.” He groaned quietly as he felt Nathan begin to push into him. “Especially after we get done.”

“Whose car is this?”

Charles grinned. “Mother’s. She’ll have an aneurism when she sees the mess we made. I think she loves this car better than me.”

Nathan chuckled evilly. “Want me to pull out at the last minute?”

“Don’t you dare.”

Nathan thrust slowly, gradually working himself into Charles, then leaned forward over him, holding him close, nibbling the back of his neck. He began to thrust harder, growling quietly into Charles’ ear. They didn’t bother taking their time; Charlene Offdensen would be looking for her son, and Charles had no desire to get caught red-handed defiling her precious snow-white Rolls. Besides there was just something so incredibly arousing about behaving like a wanton harlot. Before he paired up with Nathan he would never even considered doing something like this, if indeed the thought even occurred to him. But Nathan had been a very bad influence, and Charles loved him for it.

His eyes flew open and his erection died as he suddenly heard his Aunt Jane’s voice calling his name.

“Charles? Charles! Where is that boy? I would have sworn I saw him come in here not long ago.”

Charles looked over his shoulder at Nathan. He had his head down, his long black hair covering his face, spilling across Charles’ back.

“Stop for a moment!” Charles whispered.

“I can’t,” Nathan growled.

Charles glanced up, watching as his Aunt Jane searched around the large converted stable. The fact that the tint on the windows kept her from seeing him was no comfort at all; he could see her just fine.

“Nathan!” hissed Charles. “She’s coming this way, you have to…”

Nathan made a strangled huffing sound, biting hard onto Charles’ shoulder, his massive body shuddering as his semen spurted into Charles’ body.

“Charles!” said Jane indignantly. “I don’t know what game you’re playing but I want you to stop it and come out right now!”

Charles cast another glance over his shoulder at Nathan, who was still in the throws of a powerful orgasm, shaking and shuddering.

“Charles Foster Offdensen you come out here right now!”

Nathan growled softly, savouring the final spasms of his orgasm. His large body shivered.

“Was it good for you?” asked Nathan quietly.

“It was until Auntie Killjoy wandered by,” muttered Charles.

“I’ll make it up to you,” said Nathan. He clumsily moved off of Charles and flopped down onto the floor of the Rolls.

They waited for her to leave, then crept naked out of the garage and into a guest room, where Charles got to enjoy a second romp with Nathan in a bed. Afterwards they showered and dressed, and arrived in the dining room just in time to be seated, both still a little damp.

“I was looking for you earlier,” said Jane. “Where were you?”

“In one of the guest rooms on the ground floor,” said Charles. “Nathan and I were discussing the political structure of Stalinist Russia.”

“Oh is that what the kids are calling it these days?” said Biff. He looked over at Charlene. “I was admiring your collection of cars not long ago. You certainly have some beautiful automobiles.”

Charles raised an eyebrow, gazing at Biff. “Oh you were looking at the cars?”

Biff redirected his gaze to Charles. “Yes. Your mother has some very fine ones. I confess to especially admiring the white Rolls.”

“Thank you,” Charlene said. “It’s one-of-a-kind, you know. Made to my specifications.”

“It’s spectacular. I sat in it for a while, I hope you don’t mind.”

She narrowed her eyes. “I hope you didn’t get anything on it.”

“I wouldn’t dream of it!”

Charlene Offdensen looked highly displeased, then turned to her son. “Did you see my white Rolls, Charles?”

“Yes I saw it when I was down for Christmas,” said Charles. “It’s very lovely. And I would like to add that I know better than to touch any of your cars.”

Charlene smiled. “You always were a good boy, Charlie.”

“Devious, too,” said Nathan very softly.

Charles’ phone rang. He answered it, and heard a forlorn little voice with a Norwegian accent.

“Is you sure you an’ Nat’ans nots coming home tonight?”

Charles sighed quietly. “All right, Toki, we’ll be home.”

“Promise?” said the voice.

“You just settle into bed.”

“We’s in bed. We’s in your an’ Nat’an’s bed wit’s da door locks.”

Charles rolled his eyes. “Well we’ll be home just as soon as we can. I promise.”

“Okies,” said Toki.

Charles shut his phone, looking over at Nathan. “We have to go home. They’re upset. So… you drink. I’ll drive.”

Crozier stared at his son, one eyebrow raised. “They want you to come home? How old are they?”

“Well Toki is the youngest, he’s about twenty-three,” said Charles.

Crozier rolled his eyes. “Whatever you get paid, Charles, it’s not enough.”

“I know,” said Charles. He reached out to lightly tug Nathan’s black hair. “But the job does have its perks.”

“Well you don’t have to leave right away, do you?” said Charlene. “We so seldom get to see you!”

“We can stay for a while,” said Charles. “Besides I haven’t given you your present yet.”

***---***

It was very late when Nathan and Charles opened the front door to the mighty keep they called home, and Charles was promptly knocked almost onto his butt by a small form with a lot of long red dreadlocks. As Pickles burrowed as close against Charles as he could possibly get without actually crawling under his skin, Charles made a mental note to not tease the boys about evil little girls crawling out of wells to come get them ever again. Then Toki lunged around the corner and pounced on Nathan, making little sense in two languages. Nathan gave Charles a jaundiced look.

“Well let’s get them to bed,” he said dryly.

“I nots goings to bed!” said Toki. “Dere is demon rat-monster dere!”

“Toki it’s just a possum.”

Toki somehow managed to wrap himself around Nathan like some sort of long-haired Norwegian boa constrictor.

“I guess you can sleep with me and Charles,” Nathan grumbled.

“Pickle too?”

“Yeah, sure, Pickles too, why not.”

“An’ Skwisgaar an’ Murderface?”

“Yeah and I suppose Skwisgaar and Murderface.”

“An’ evils demon rat-monster?”

“I thought you were afraid of it.”

“Ja buts I don’ts want it to be lonely.”

Nathan sighed. “Toki it won’t be lonely. It will be fine.”

“You sure?”

“I’m very sure. Especially if she has babies.”

Soon they were all settled in Nathan’s gigantic bed, Charles and Nathan in the middle, Toki and Skwisgaar on one side, Pickles and Murderface on the other. There was some squiggling and fussing at first, but soon all was peaceful in the bedroom as one by one the exhausted inhabitants dropped off, leaving only Nathan and Charles awake.

“I guess your family don’t like me much,” said Nathan.

“That’s fine,” said Charles, trying to get comfortable as Pickles spooned against him. “I think I decided that I like our family better. Ours seems less dysfunctional somehow.”