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Some bad language.
If you don't like, don't read.
I do not, will not, and never have claimed these characters as my own.
Reviews are love.
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"But when I get home to you
I find the things that you do
Will make me feel alright..."
~~The Beatles, A Hard Day's Night
::M E M O R Y 1::
How stupid. How utterly stupid and dildos. It was so dumb that it made Pickles scoff and repeat, "To the what? The fuckin' movies?"
In front of him Toki was nodding eagerly, saying, "Ja, to the movies! Likes just yous and me toge-"
"Yeah, I heard 'dat part, but I just don't get why on Earth I'd do that," the drummer said, grinning. "I mean, I know it sounds stupid, but you almost make it sound like you wanna go on a date with me, which is dumb 'cause...'cause..." Pickles' voice trailed off once he recognized the hurt look that now dominated the Norwegian's face. He cleared his throat and struggled to redeem himself. "No, look, I'm an idiot. I-"
"Pickle, why can'ts you just gives me a chance?"
"Give you a chance? I..." he bit his lip and his face turned a little red. God, did he feel like an asshole. Toki's pale blue eyes were tearing up as Pickles said, trying to hide his shame, "Okay, look, it's just that...well...how weird would that look? I mean, the two of us just sneakin' off and goin' to see a movie. Not very brutal."
"Well I wants to go see that new horror ones, but nobody will takes me," Toki said, attempting to seem like his invitation hadn't been in a romantic sense at all. By the way he was blushing, though, Pickles could see right thru this act. "I just wanted you to dos me a favor, that ams all. I just gos ask..." he frowned and said after a moment of contemplation, "Skwisgaar."
He turned to leave, but Pickles jumped out of his seat and caught him. "Okay, look, I know what you're tryin' to do. If I do ever take you out, I don't want it to be to some stupid place like the movies."
The guitarist arched a brow. "Where you hads in mind?"
"I...uh..." he thought for a moment. "Well...I..." he cursed under his breath. I really gotta learn to think of things before I say them, Pickles thought, desperately trying to think of some place—any place—to take Toki.
"I wants to go to the circus."
His mouth fell open. "I—huh? The fuckin' circus? Are you serious?"
Toki nodded and explained, "I haves been in America for a whiles, but I never been to the circus yet. In Norways we don't haves a circus, just lots of snows and stuff."
"Well, I guess that would be okay, 'den," the drummer said. He nodded and repeated, "Yeah, fine. Sure, why the fuck not? I'll take you to the stupid, douchebag circus, Toki."
The Norwegian let out an exclamation of delight and wrapped his arms around Pickles' neck. "Thanks you, thanks you! This ams gonna be so fun! Wowee, thanks!"
"Yeah, sure. Whatever. We're gonna go at seven, so be ready. I don't wanna wait for you." And with those last words, the drummer coolly made an exit. He had managed to play it off well, he felt. Somehow Toki hadn't noticed how excited he was. A date with Toki Wartooth? This night was going to be something, that was for sure. Whether it be a good something or a bad something, Pickles had no clue. He just knew that he was happy to go.
Pickles and Toki met and managed to sneak out of Mordhaus together at seven o'clock sharp that night. As soon as they arrived at the circus, the drummer felt his heart sink. There were little kids everywhere. He hated, hated, hated stupid, annoying, spoiled little brats. Toki, though, didn't really seem to mind too much until a kid actually came up and asked for his autograph.
"Wow," the kid yelled, "It's Toki Wartooth!"
"Aw shit," Pickles said, his green eyes growing wide. Everyone was now staring at the both of them, their eyes prying, searching to see if they were indeed the famous musicians from Dethklok. With little thought, the drummer pushed the kid to the side and grabbed Toki's hand. "C'mon," he whispered, "let's just get outta here, huh?"
"But why? I wants to see-"
"Because I don't want anyone to recognize us, dildo!" Pickles hissed.
The kid just kept howling and howling, "Ma, come quick! Toki Wartooth's right here! I want a picture, I want an autograph, I want-"
"Toki, please, Gad, give the kid your fuckin' autograph and let's go." the drummer begged. People were beginning to crowd around them now, all murmuring amongst themselves.
The Norwegian rolled his eyes and said thru gritted teeth, "But I hates kids, Pickle."
"Just do it, please!"
He couldn't remember ever having told anyone please, but it encouraged Toki to pull a pen out of his pants pocket and grab a napkin from a nearby spectator. "Okays," he grumbled, kneeling down and glaring at the kid. "What you wants it to say?"
"To Damien from-"
"Ja, Ja, from Tokis Wartooth, I gots it." he scribbled it down quickly then passed it to Damien. "That ams good?"
The kid turned the napkin upside down and cocked his head to the side. "Uh, Mr. Toki? I can't read what it sa-"
"That's because I can't writes in Englishes, so it ams in Norwegian. Gos away now and lets me and my boyfriend alone."
Everyone in the crowd gasped at the guitarist's words. Pickles' eyes grew wide as he let go of Toki's hand and hissed, "What the fuck are you doin', douchebag? I ain't your boyfriend! Take 'dat back!"
"But we ams on date, Pickle. You was one who what says ams taking me out."
"Yeah, but I-"
"So you like men, Mr. Toki?" Damien cut in, staring at his hero in a very puzzled way.
The Norwegian turned to him and said irritably, "Why ams you still here?"
" 'Cause my mom says that guys who like other guys are faggo-"
"You'd better shut your fuckin' mouth, kid," Pickles warned, taking a step closer to the boy. Toki's face had grown red and he was trying to hide the embarrassed look on his face. In a second he had slipped his hand into the drummer's and was desperately attempting to pull him away and into the crowd.
"Please, this was stupids idea. Let's just gos, please."
"No, Toki. You can't let people call you shit like 'dat."
"Whys not if it ams true?"
Pickles shook his head and raised his middle finger to Damien, who was still staring from one musician to the other, a confused look on his young face. "Hey, go tell your stupid mam 'dis."
The crowd of spectators had grown absolutely rowdy now, and as Pickles flicked the little boy off, they began shouting and calling out. Young, fourteen-year-old girls threw off their shirts, yelled, "It's Pickles the drummer and Toki Wartooth, it really is!"
Every girl in the whole place began begging each of the two muscians to let them bare their children, but Pickles pushed past them all the same. Toki was marching far ahead of him now, and in a second he had disappeared into the crowd. The drummer stood in his spot, tried to seek him out, but it was all in vain. In an instant a hundred fan girls had surrounded him, begging for his autograph, for sex, and drugs...
"Get the fuck away from me! Gad, can't we just have one fuckin' thing for us—just one night?" he bellowed, pushing them and shoving them roughly out his way. Before going out, he managed to find the snack counter and buy a few boxes of candy.
gummi bears were Toki's favorite.
Pickles brought about six little bags of those and headed outside of the circus tent, his arms laden with sugary treats. Toki was sitting a ways away in the parking lot, carefully tucked between two huge minivans. The drummer walked over to him, dropped the candy, and took a seat next to the sniffling, crying Norwegian.
"Hey, are you...I dunno, okay?"
"You don't wanna-"
"-talk about it?"
Toki shook his head and hugged his knees to him. He buried his head in his arms and said, his voice muffled, "Nos, just piss off and leaves me alone."
"Oh. Okay, but I bought you some candy," Pickles said, blatantly ignoring the guitarist's request for him to go away. He looked up at the starry night sky and smiled a little. "Huh. Nice spot. Nobody'll find us here."
"They can't lets us haves it, huh, Pickle?" Toki asked, wiping his nose on the sleeve of his blue shirt and grabbing a pack of gummi bears.
"Haves each other."
What could he say to this? "I...Gad, Toki, look, I don't think that what we're doin' is-"
"I learns something about it," he interrupted. "Long times ago, when I first met you. I learned that for some things you can'ts think about it, 'cause then you get scared and don't dos it."
Pickles frowned. "Can't think about what?"
"Who you likes You just gots to let it happen." he paused for a moment then wiped the tears from his eyes. Before continuing he ate one pack of gummi bears and opened another. "Pickle, I'ms sorry about this. This was stupids idea. I should have known that you didn't wants to go out with me, but I just wanted you to gives me a chance."
"But I did-"
"Just one fuckings chance, and I thoughts...I thoughts I mights make you feel okay." Toki explained, looking down at his boots. " 'Cause when I ams with you, I always feel okay, but I just—I really, really wants to just feel okay like that always."
Pickles sighed. "Toki, look, I'm sorry. Hey, c'mon, look at me."
The Norwegian looked up, his wonderfully bright eyes glowing shockingly in the moonlight that shone above their heads. The drummer swallowed and leaned close to him. Toki was right. It was time to stop thinking about everything. Sometimes you just had to let things happen on their own, and right now Pickles' heart was certainly beating a fucking mile a minute on its own. He took a deep breath and breathed, "Come here."
Toki smiled a little and crawled over into the drummer's arms. He hugged him tightly, trying to retain what warmth hadn't been taken from his body in the chilly city air. "You so warms, Pickle. You feels so nice."
"Um-hmm," was all he could say to this. This whole thing was insane. Loving Toki? Loving him like he loved women? That was insane, but that was what he wanted most, to love and be loved. Yes, he would give Toki more than just one chance. "Hey, look."
Toki looked up, opened his mouth to ask, "What?" but he couldn't get the words out before Pickles was kissing him, before his hands were making their way into the Norwegian's long, brown hair. The drummer's fingers brushed thru the guitarist's hair, traveled down to his belt, and to his hips, and Pickles thrust himself forward, so that both of them were touching in that wonderfully intimate way. Toki let out a moan and allowed Pickles' warm hands find his. God, Toki tasted so sweet, like every kind of wonderfully sugary candy in the world. Fruity, like the gummi bears he had just been devouring. Their fingers laced together, their bodies pressed so close; hearts beating so impossibly fast. It was delicious.
"Oh," Toki whispered as Pickles ended the kiss. "Oh, Gods, that ams-"
"I'm gonna give you a chance," the drummer said, swallowing. "I'll give you a million chances."
"You means you and me ams-"
"Toki, we're whatever the fuck you want us to be, just do me a favor and kiss me again."
Their lips met again, but this time it was brief, because in a moment there was the sharp cracking of thunder overhead. As Toki broke away and looked up, a drop of rain splashed down on the pavement next to them. Pickles licked his lips. He longed for more of those kisses, those sweet, candy kisses, but then another drop of rain fell, and another.
Toki jumped to his feet and pulled the drummer up just as it began to pour down. "Pickle, we gots to gos! We're gonna gets soaked!"
"Okay, okay, just-"
As soon as the two had stood up, a familiar sounding voice came to them. Damien. He was running up, this time holding the hand of a young, wide-eyed girl, yelling, "Oh, oh, oh! Mr. Toki, could you please give my girlfriend an autograph to? Huh, couldja? She said if I got you to sign her Dethklok CD she'd sleep with me, whatever that means!"
Toki gasped, "Oh, wowee..."
Because behind the two kids there followed a whole mob, all waving Dethklok albums in the hands and shouting. Pickles cursed and gabbed the Norwegian's hand. "Come on."
And they ran. They jumped on top of cars and slid over hoods, leaving dirty footprints on the paint, but neither of them really cared that much. They got soaked as they made the mad dash out of the parking lot. Unfortunately, they had managed to take the bus down to the fairgrounds—the Dethcycle would've looked to obvious. Or, at least, that's what Pickles had thought. Now he was regretting this decision. Toki got around with relative ease, and by the time they reached the end of the fairgrounds he was nearly dragging the drummer behind him.
"I...I really shouldn't smoke so much, huh?"
Toki grinned and pulled him along. "Comes on, Pickle."
They hurried down the street and made a left, so that they were heading towards the heart of the glowing city. High buildings and streetlamps loomed above them as they walked, each step they took splashing and soggy. Finally they reached an ally and slipped discreetly into it, both laughing hysterically at some unknown thing. If he had been with anyone else, Pickles would've been cursing and yelling and complaining about how he needed some vodka, but with Toki he couldn't bring himself to do any of these things. He just leaned against the brick wall of a building laughing like an idiot.
Toki fell into his arms and soon they were both holding each other, panting for breath. "I...I gotta-" Pickles breathed, "-I gotta admit that 'dis is pretty fun and...well, I'm glad that it's with you, Toki."
The guitarist blushed a deep shade of red and accepted a kiss on the cheek. "I'm glads that you ams here too, Pickle."
"You're really are great, you know that?"
He shrugged and tried to put some of his dripping went hair behind his ears. "Ja, I knows." he shivered and snuggled a little closer to the drummer. "I'ms so colds, though!"
"Yeah, and I'm soaking wet." Pickles looked around and out the narrow alley. It was still pouring outside. He glanced at Toki and distractedly ran a hand thru his now dark, dripping hair. "Sorry about all this. Just keep close and try to stay warm."
Suddenly he wished more than anything that he had a jacket or something to give to Toki, but he didn't. All he could do was swallow and grin as an idea came to him. "You know what I'm gonna do for you, Toki? Huh?"
"Give you the shirt off my fuckin' back." he took off his sleeveless shirt and threw it at Toki. He knew that it wouldn't do much good, that it was so wet that it was actually dripping rainwater onto the Norwegian's boots, but at least it was something. After all, Toki was his boyfriend now, and he had to take care of him.
But the guitarist shook his head and carefully handed the shirt back to him. "It ams fine. Really, I'm okays."
"I just don't want you to get sick or anything."
"I'll be fines. Look, let's just gos home."
Before turning and walking out the alley, Toki reached over and took Pickles' hand. As the two walked down the street, he began swinging it playfully, so much that the drummer could barley walk straight. But it was still fun, and Pickles still didn't want to be anywhere else. As they walked he leaned over and gave Toki a kiss.
Yes, he felt okay.
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The movie that really inspired me to make this chapter what it was is A Hard Day's Night, by the Beatles, so that's the reason I quoted the song. Just decided to mention it in case you were curious. Also, sometimes Pickles will say stuff like 'Gad' instead of God and 'aff' instead of off. Why? Because that's just how he talks in the show, so that's how I'll type it. Anyways, thanks for reading, much love to you.
Please review. I'll love you forever.
[Peace & Love]