Boy's Night Out

Rating: R
Category: AU
Pairing(s): Nathan/Charles
Warnings: Easter egg spoilers for the Season II Metalocalypse DVD
Summary: Nathan has a few revelations.
Notes: For dwarrowchild. Happy birthday, bug!

Well let the bells ring out and the people cheer, we have canon confirmation that Charles does indeed have a thing for Nathan. How Nathan feels about this is anybody’s guess, but we now know two things for certain; Charlie likes Nathan, and that if you pour enough alcohol into Charlie you get a very silly paper-shuffler.

The lights came up in the club, and Nathan winced. Toki made a plaintive little noise.

“Is too brights,” he complained.

Nathan looked over at Charles, and smiled slightly. Charles was seated upright, but his eyes were closed, and he was clearly to the point where he was too drunk to do anything other than fall over. Toki was blinking owlishly at the club, watching as the employees prepared to close for the evening. Skwisgaar was trying to remember how to get his long legs to work, while Murderface and Pickles dozed.

The night was over. Time to go home to bed.

“Sleepy?” Nathan asked Charles.

A little smile crept over Charles’ lips. “Yes. I’ve never done this before.”

“Gone out and got drunk?”

“Well… I’ve been drunk, but it was never the point of the evening.” He tried to make his eyes open. “It was rather fun.”

“Can you stand?”

Charles managed to force one eye open. “No. And I’m a little reluctant to try.”

“Come on, wild man,” said Nathan, rising to his feet. “I’ll carry you.”

“I don’t advise it. No… Nathan… no you really don’t….”

Nathan ignored Charles’ protests, wrapping his arms around the smaller man’s waist and hoisting him up, accidentally performing a sort of unintentional Heimlich manoeuvre.

Charles puked.

Not a small spit of liquid, not a neat puddle on the ground, but a full-blown beer-soaked projectile vomit straight across the table, most of it ending up in Murderface’s lap. Murderface, who was awake by now, was staring at his lap with an expression of complete and utter horror. Skwisgaar, Toki and Pickles were laughing like a pack of hyenas. Charles, still dangling in Nathan’s grasp like a half-drowned puppy, didn’t hear anything, but he could tell Nathan was laughing too hard to make any sound by the way he was sort of staggering around. Meanwhile Murderface fixed Charles with a stricken; ‘what the hell did I ever do to you?’ expression.

“Squeeze him again!” yelled Pickles.

Before Charles had a chance to complain that he was not some form of highly expensive water pistol, the club staff put an end to the game by tossing them all out. Charles dangled from Nathan’s right arm like a teddy bear, hair askew, tie missing, shirt undone, looking mildly perturbed by this turn of events.

The limo was brought around, and they got in, realizing belatedly that Murderface was not with them. After a minute or two of waiting he appeared, wearing his trademark vest and boots and absolutely nothing else, smelling of the sandalwood soap used in the club’s men’s room. He got into the limo, sat in as inappropriate a position as he could possibly manage, crossed his arms and promptly dozed off.

“Brutal,” said Nathan morosely.

Pickles grabbed up a bottle of Absinthe and placed it where it would do the most good. Murderface now looked like he had a vaguely luminous green glass erection, but it was better than what they had been looking at. Nathan turned on the radio, and was miffed to find someone had changed it to the oldies station. He stared at the device as The Beatles happily trilled their way through ‘I Wanna Hold Your Hand.’ NOT metal. But… it was The Beatles. Ya kinda had to listen if it was The Beatles. Then Nathan became aware of a voice quietly joining in to sing along… only… it wasn’t the right words….

Oh komm doch, komm zu mir
Du nimmst mir den Verstand
Oh komm doch, komm zu mir
Komm, gib mir deine Hand!

Komm, gib mir deine Hand,
Komm, gib mir deine Hand.

Oh du bist so schšn
schšn wie ein Diamant
Ich will mit dir gehen
Komm, gib mir deine Hand!

Komm, gib mir deine Hand,
Komm, gib mir deine Hand….

Nathan slowly turned his head to look at Charles, who was happily singing away in German, completely loaded, looking about as pleased and content with life as they had ever seen him. Nathan chuckled quietly and let him sing.

***---***

Nathan half-carried Charles to his personal chambers, leading him to the door of his bedroom before carefully releasing him, uncertain if Charles was capable standing up on his own.

“You okay there, Charles?”

“Yup,” said Charles happily, weaving a little.

“You sure?”

“Yup. Perfectly…hic!... functional.”

“Well… okay. Night.”

“Good night, Nate.”

Nathan watched as Charles gathered up what little dignity and decorum he had left from his very first Dethklok Pub Crawl and walked into his bedroom, neglecting to turn on a light. Moments later Nathan heard a spectacular crash of falling furniture and bodies, then a small voice, tense with pain.

“I’m fine.”

Nathan stepped into the room and turned on the light. “What did you do to yourself, ya dildo?”

Charles was sitting neatly on the floor, legs crossed, hands in his lap, blinking up at Nathan. Whatever he had done, he had managed to split his lip, break his glasses and blacken both his eyes.

“Ninjas,” Charles assured him solemnly. “Four of them.”

“Ninjas, huh? Not one gooned lawyer and a Victorian chair?”

“Nope. I am quite certain it was ninjas.”

Nathan righted the antique chair, then helped Charles over to the bed. “Well you said you’d get sloppy, and ya sure as hell did. Geez Charlie what a mess.”

“Yup. Charlie’s gooned. You know you’re really, really cute when I’m drunk.”

“How about when you’re not drunk?”

Charles leaned forward, the tip of his nose almost touching Nathan’s as he smiled at him loopily. “Do you know how many times I fantasized about you throwing me down onto the conference table, ripping my clothes off and…”

“That’s just… far more than I ever needed to know.”

“I like you.”

“I’m… figuring that out.”

Charles weaved a little, their noses touching accidentally. “S’okay Nate. I know you don’t like me that way.”

“I have no idea why you would like me.”

“Why wouldn’t I?”

“Well… I dunno. I thought you’d like… Pickles maybe. Or Skwisgaar. Or Toki.”

“I adore Toki. The same way I adore my three years old nephew. And Pickles is… definitely cute but… he has a scary tendency to go off like a grenade.”

“And Skwisgaar?”

“I’m afraid of heights.”

“He’s pretty.”

“You can’t have two princesses in the same bed, they cancel each other out.” Charles blinked, trying to focus, then asked shyly, “Can I kiss you?”

“Let’s… just get you cleaned up.”

“’Kay.”

Nathan helped Charles to get undressed and into bed, then went in search of a warm wet cloth to wipe away the blood. He’d never been in Charles’ apartments before. His tastes seemed to lean towards the Victorian, but without their fondness for draperies. Nathan found a washcloth on the sink and ran it under some warm water. There was a small shelf above the sink, containing the sort of things a person would expect to find in a man’s apartment; a razor, toothbrush, hairbrush, but Nathan could not help but notice there were two toothbrushes in the little glass holder, not one. And two razors as well. Did Charles have a man? Nathan tried to think and honestly could not recall ever seeing anyone that qualified as a boyfriend. But Charles was very private. Or maybe these were painful leftovers from a former lover and Charles just couldn’t bear to throw them out yet. Nathan knew that Tony’s favourite towel and razor sat on a shelf in Pickles’ bathroom to this day, and that was a love that had died years ago. But Pickles still waited. He just didn’t talk about it.

Remnants, Nathan decided. Some guy Charles had loved and had stomped all over his heart. Poor little Charlie. He was going to look like he had been in a bar fight come daybreak, but he seemed fine when Nathan left the bathroom and found him still seated where he had left him. Nathan covered him over, but… found himself oddly reluctant to leave. He suddenly didn’t like himself too much. He’d been awful damned nasty at times to this little man, and… Charles liked him. It was… kinda heartbreaking. And with Charles drunk and unable to hide behind his carefully constructed cold and official demeanour… well… the vibes were coming out loud and clear. Nathan could almost smell them. If he made the slightest move Charles would melt like butter. It was… kinda tempting…

Oh yeah. Like he really knew what to do with a guy.

“Want me to stay?” Nathan asked, wiping away the blood. “Just to like… you know… make sure you’re okay?”

“Well it’s not really necessary, but… if it would make you feel better.”

“Yeah well I’m kinda responsible for… you know… getting you loaded and making you throw up on Murderface… that was pretty fucking funny by the way.”

“My university professors would be horrified to know I was being used as a fire hose.”

“Ah fuck ‘em, it was awesome.”

Nathan finished cleaning up Charles, then tossed the washcloth aside before he took off his boots. Fully clothed, he slipped into bed with Charles, turning out the light before settling himself against the pillows. Charles lay down beside him, and there was a long, uncomfortable silence.

“Good night Nathan.”

“Uh… night… Charles.”

Charles rolled onto his side, away from Nathan and into a ball. At first Nathan thought he may have done something to upset him but no, it seemed that was just the way Charles chose to sleep. It didn’t take long for him to drift off, either. He was out in moments.

Nathan rolled onto his side, spooning Charles, slipping an arm around him, looking down at him, and feeling like a complete and utter bastard. While it was true that for the most part he’d treated Charles quite decently, there had also been a few outstanding moments of pure hurtful bastardness that seem to shine in their own brilliance in the small hours of the night. Charles liked him. He had been a complete dick to this guy, and Charles liked him, wanted him. It made Nathan sick to think about. It wasn’t right. He wasn’t sure if he could bring himself to be with him, but Nathan’s basic feeling was that it was wrong to be an intentional asshole to someone who had feelings for you.

“C’mere,” he said softly, and pulled Charles close. Charles rolled over easily, and happily snuggled against Nathan, not even waking up. He was just a little blissful bundle of alcohol-soaked lawyer. Nathan grinned. “Hey Charles. Wake up.”

Charles’ head snapped up, too well conditioned to emergency visits in the middle of the night not to respond to the prompting. “Is everything okay?”

“Yeah. I just wanted to know if you’d like a good night kiss."

“If I would like…?”

“A kiss.”

Charles blinked, a little uncertain he had heard Nathan right at first. “Okay. Yes, I… would very much like a kiss.”

“Okay. Well… um… yeah I can do this.”

It was a little clumsy and uncertain, but it was definitely a kiss, and it was definitely nice. And he was right; Charles melted like butter. But it was nice. It was very nice. And then it was over, but Charles was once more putting out signals; warm willing ones. He wouldn’t mind if Nathan went a bit farther. It was a little hard to believe this was the same guy Toki and Skwisgaar swore they had seen defeat and possibly kill an armed assassin.

“I totally don’t know what I’m doing,” admitted Nathan. “And I’m way too drunk to do much.”

“So am I,” said Charles. He grinned impishly. “But I don’t mind if you take advantage after I pass out.”

“That’s… so totally not my style. I like live people. Besides that’s just… not right. But you’re…”

“In heat.”

“I wasn’t gonna say.”

“Wanna see my kitty-cat impression?”

“Does it work when you’re sober?”

“Not in the least.”

Nathan grinned. “Let’s… save it for another night then. I’m… not really sure yet how I feel about this.” He kissed him once more, feeling his body react to the way Charles responded to him. Oh this was awkward. Nathan let one hand wander a little over Charles’ small stocky body, then withdrew it, feeling uncomfortable. He wasn’t ready for this. Intrigued but… not ready.

“Will you show it to me another night?” Nathan asked.

“Sure, I’d like that. Does that mean… there will be another night?”

Nathan thought about that, then nodded. “I mean… now that I know the door’s open… I’d kinda like to look inside. Maybe… see if I’d like to hang around. But… I gotta ask whose toothbrush that is in the bathroom. And whose hairbrush.”

“Whose…? Oh.” Charles cleared his throat. “They’re yours.”

Nathan raised an eyebrow. “You wanna run that by me again?”

The room may have been dark, but Charles was blushing almost audibly. “I had this silly conversation one day with this woman, and she was telling me about sympathetic magicks and transference magicks and… she said if you envision something hard enough, and… use methods to make the vision seem real… anyway it’s all a lot of nonsense and I should just throw all that stuff away. It’s childish.”

Nathan felt his lower lip actually start to quiver. “Oh gawd you liked me and I was such a puke to you! I’m horrible!”

“You’re not horrible.”

“I am! I suck!”

“Well I could have just told you. I am an adult. Allegedly.”

“But you liked me that much and I was just… my usual oblivious self.”

“I kinda like your usual oblivious self.”

“Have a thing for gigantic Neanderthal douche bags, do you?”

“Yes. Yes I do. And you’re the only one left on the planet.”

Nathan gazed at Charles, who simply stared back. “Let’s just work on being friends first,” said Nathan.

Charles nodded in agreement, then snuggled closer to Nathan, who slid his arms around him. “This is a nice start to a friendship,” said Charles.

Nathan grinned. “Yeah this could work. ‘Night Charles.”

“’Night.”

Nathan kissed the top of Charles’ head, then closed his eyes, holding him close. Yeah this was a very nice start to a friendship.

He briefly flicked on the bedside lamp. Charles flinched. Nathan turned it back off.

“Sorry,” Nathan said. “Just checking for ninjas.”