By Implication, Anyway

Rating: PG
Category: AU
Pairing(s): Nathan/Charles
Warnings: UST
Summary: Dethklok go to the beach for a little relaxation.
Notes: For the “August 2009 -- Summer is BRUTAL!!!” challenge at [info]brutalbusiness.

Charles wrote the whole thing off as a business expense. In truth he wasn’t exactly lying; although explaining how installing fountains and a shallow pool counted as a business expense to the IRS had been interesting. But it was the hottest summer in one hundred and fifty years, and those who were elderly or ill were dying in alarmingly high numbers. And Toki was highly heat sensitive. He was a cold-weather bunny, and being pounded day after day by record high temperatures had efficiently flipped his switch from “happy great Dane puppy” to “guy who pounded some jerk at a concert into the mud”. Charles knew it was time to do something when Pickles sat down on the couch beside Toki, and Toki made some sort of low-frequency guttural snarl. Pickles decided he needed to go for beer. Charles called a contractor.

Dethklok greeted their new personal-sized water park with the sort of suspicion more commonly seen in zoo animals. They didn’t order it, they didn’t pay for it, and they didn’t know where it came from, ergo it must be the work of some sort of evil summer Nisse or spirit that had recently moved onto the property and was trying to drag them to hell through the drain-holes. A perfectly logical explanation, of course.

“It was not built by evil fairies,” said Charles wearily. “I ordered it for you. It’s a present.”

That sealed it. There was no way in hell they were going anywhere near it after some of the shit they had pulled on Charles. They were dumb but they were not that dumb. They knew a set-up to a revenge plot when they saw it. Oh well, at least the yard-wolves appreciated the shallow pool and sprays of water.

Charles eventually decided to just go ahead and book them all a vacation. After the attack on Mordhaus they had all needed a break. They needed to recover and regain their confidence, and though many, many other resorts had extended offers, Charles had chosen a Victorian house that had been converted into a tiny inn/hotel. The other resorts just seemed to be expecting something in return, and while self-whoring was part of the music industry, Charles knew that the last thing his boys needed was to be treated like performing monkeys. Toki had contracted pneumonia from his broken ribs, Nathan was recovering from burns, and Skwisgaar and Pickles were both more than a little nervy from having been confronted by Edgar Jomfru wielding a shotgun.

Murderface of course was just fine.

The inn was out of the way, isolated, and far from the constant irritant of paparazzi. Which was lucky for the paparazzi because Charles was in no mood for those maggots as he stared at himself in the mirror of his suite’s small bathroom. He decided that he liked the eye patch better than the fake eye. He slipped a contact lens onto his one remaining eye, having decided that glasses with an eye patch was just silly.

Reasonably satisfied with how he looked, he left his room and walked down to the ground floor, then out the back door of the house to where the small pool was. Toki and Skwisgaar were napping on lounge chairs under a large umbrella, enjoying the perfect temperature brought on by a hot sun and a cool sea breeze. Murderface was floating in the pool on an inflatable mattress, roasting his flabby belly, while Pickles was a distant red and black figure standing on some rocks, fishing in the surf and apparently catching a bumper crop of seaweed. He didn’t seem to mind. Charles had a feeling that Pickles was more interested in just being alone with his own thoughts than he was in catching anything.

Nathan was nowhere to be seen.

Charles roamed casually down to the less rocky part of the beach, spying a large form sitting cross-legged on the sand, drinking a beer and watching the sea. His long black hair blew in the warm wind, and he smelled of coconut oil from the sun block gleaming on his skin. Charles sat down on the blanket beside Nathan, dressed in designer beach wear. Nathan was in ripped cut-offs. They said nothing, just watching the waves softly frothing on the shore. Nathan handed Charles a beer, and he took it. Somewhere in the background Pickles bitched and swore at something he had hooked, and then there was a loud splash. They did not react to the commotion. Charles opened his beer and had a swallow, watching a seagull land to pick at something in the surf.

A shadow passed them, and moments later the daughter of the couple that owned the inn strolled by. She was nineteen, lean and beautiful, wearing a thong bikini so small that Charles couldn’t help but think her parents had no idea she was traipsing around in front of a pack of rock stars dressed like that. He glanced at Nathan, and noticed he was watching, but that was all he was doing; viewing the eye candy. Charles could tell from Nathan’s body language that he had no interest in following after her. Then when she “innocently” bent over to pick something up, Nathan just sighed, unimpressed with the display. He looked to Charles.

“I was uh…. thinking. Maybe… we could eat in the hotel restaurant tonight.”

“I’d really like that,” said Charles. “Do they have steak and lobster?”

“I dunno. We can look. Hey did you know they have horses here? I like horses.”

“Maybe a ride after dinner,” said Charles.

Nathan grinned. “A slow ride so dinner doesn’t come back up.”

“Eyew.” Charles’ eyes strayed to the leggy beauty casually displaying herself. “She’s pretty,” he remarked.

Nathan grunted. “Done with girls for a while. Just gonna… hang with the guys for a while. HEY!” he shouted to the female on the sand. She turned, giving him her best “oh I had no idea you were there” look.

“Yes?”

“Yeah you wanna like… find some other place to parade your ass around? Seriously.”

She looked shocked, then outraged. She stormed off in a fit, while Nathan just growled.

“Sick of people,” he muttered.

“Well I have to say I never thought I would see the day when you would intentionally chase off a pretty girl,” said Charles.

Nathan shrugged. “Yeah well, I been thinking and… doing a lot of other things I never thought I would lately. I been thinking… well… nuthin’. Never mind. You uh… want me to oil your back?”

“All right.” Charles removed his shirt, enjoying the feel of huge hands smearing cool slick oil across his shoulders.

“I love the way this stuff smells,” said Nathan. “Makes me want to eat pie.”

“I like pie,” said Charles, his one remaining eye closed in bliss.

The eye opened when he heard some splashing, and he saw Pickles walking out of the surf covered in seaweed, his fishing rod in one hand, and his line in the other. He dropped the rod onto the shore, then turned to face the surf, hauling something large onto the shore. He turned towards them, the fishing line over his shoulder, and began dragging the thing out of the surf. Eventually he pulled out some sort of massive fish. When he had it all the way out, he dropped the line and glared at Charles and Nathan.

“DOOD! When you hear a guy screaming, that’s usually a sign you should come help him! That fish tried to kill me!”

“Yeah well you tried to kill him first,” said Nathan. “Seems only fair. Damn. That’s a big fish. What is it?”

“I dunno,” said Pickles.

He knelt down and pulled the hook out of the creature’s mouth, then took a few pictures of it with Nathan’s camera before he dragged it back into the water by the tail. It thrashed once and was gone, heading perhaps to deeper water, away from baited hooks. Pickles reeled in his line, then went back to the rocks, possibly to catch something that wasn’t larger than himself.

“Are you gonna tell him that was a shark or should I?” asked Nathan, grinning.

“Let’s just not mention it. He’s here to relax. He won’t be very relaxed if we tell him he was just splashing around in the water with a highly annoyed shark.”

They lapsed into contented silence for a while, watching the water. Nathan opened another beer for himself as the surf crept closer.

“Hey… you uh… wanna ride horses, or… maybe we could save that for another night and like… watch a movie or something instead?”

“A movie would be nice. I am still a little sore.”

“Yeah I thought so. Lemme see your face. How’s the eye?”

Charles turned to face Nathan. He was still badly bruised, and sore, and the teeth that the dentist had managed to put back after they were knocked out still felt a little loose to him.

“I’m fine,” said Charles quietly.

“No you’re not,” Nathan gruffed at him quietly, his eyes lowering to the scar on Charles’ chest where the arrow had gone straight through him. “You’re lucky you’re alive.”

“Well I have you to thank for that,” said Charles softly.

“Yeah, well… don’t make me have to do it again.”

Charles smiled. “I won’t.”

There was a long silence. They gazed at each other, brown eye meeting green. Nathan dipped his head slightly, and Charles parted his lips in invitation just the smallest amount. There was some hesitation, then Nathan shyly drew back. Together they resumed looking at the ocean.

“Tide’s coming in,” remarked Nathan idly. “Think we should… move before it gets here? Me, I… kinda like to sit until it reaches me. Dunno why. I would do that as a kid. Just sit on the beach and wait for the tide to come in. One time someone called the cops that there was a dead kid lying on the beach with the tide coming in.” Nathan laughed. “Poor cop nearly turned inside out when I sat up.”

Charles smiled. “We can stay and watch the tide come in,” he said quietly. “If you like.”

In the distance came the sound of a scream, slowly growing louder and closer, until the source ran by. It was Murderface, with Skwisgaar hot on his trail and mad as a wet hornet. It seemed Murderface had moved Skwisgaar’s beach umbrella, but not before writing something on the Swede’s white skin in sunblock. As a result Skwisgaar now resembled a giant piece of blonde bacon with the word DILDO emblazoned on his chest.

“Hey Murderface!” yelled Nathan. “Run into the water! Scandinavians can’t swim!”

That was utter bullshit and Charles knew it. Skwisgaar loved to swim, and Murderface knew that. However in some brain-blocking fit of desperation Murderface headed into the surf. Not surprisingly, Skwisgaar was undaunted.

“MURDERFACE!” yelled Pickles, outraged. “GET OUT OF THE WATER! YOUR FEET ARE KILLING THE FISH!”

Pickles’ shark took one sniff and immediately left the area, never to return. Murderface paused to yell something at Pickles, and was knocked into the water by Skwisgaar. Moments later Toki showed up, sleepy and confused but happy to watch the chaos. Nathan gave Charles a gentle nudge.

“C’mon. We can watch the tide come in another time.”

Unnoticed, they gathered their things and walked back to the inn. They stepped into the cool of the lobby, greeted as always by Hazel, the grandmother of the nineteen-year-old in the thong and the inn’s receptionist. Hazel seemed genuinely pleased to see them, which was odd because Charles had always been of the opinion that Hazel didn’t much care for his boys. He wondered if the thong goddess had complained to Granny about being told to stop parading her ass around. It seemed like the sort of thing Hazel would approve of. In the distance, Pickles shrieked.

“What on earth are those boys doing out there?” Hazel asked.

“Fishing,” said Charles.

“Yeah with us it’s a contact sport,” said Nathan. “Like chess. Or uh… Monopoly.”

“Or Scrabble,” said Charles.

Hazel just sighed and shook her head. Nathan and Charles continued through the lobby, both noticing the song that quietly played on the radio resting on the reception desk.

“Don’t need a whore,
I don’t need no booze.
Don’t need a virgin priest.
But I need someone I can cry to.
I need someone to protect.
Making love and breaking hearts,
It is a game for youth.
But I’m not waiting on a lady,
I’m just waiting on a friend.”

“I like this song,” said Charles quietly.

“Yeah,” said Nathan. “Me too.”