Slash, drug/alchol usage, bad language
If you don't like, please do me a favor and don't read.
No, I still do not own any characters.
Please note that these stories are presented in no particular order.
Reviews are love.
"That you and I were made for this
I was made to taste your kiss
We were made to never fall away
Never fall away..."
~~Civil Twilight, Letters From The Sky
:: ::::KISSES:::: ::
If you would go back and ask Toki, he'd say that it began with just a kiss. Everythingbegan with just a kiss, but that didn't mean that he actually wanted the damn it. To say that the first kiss was an awkward one would be a huge understatement. Pickles had been totally drunk and as he pulled Toki aside from the others. All the Norwegian could think about was the stench of the alcohol and vomit on the drummer's breath. He made a move to shy away, but Pickles caught him fast.
"Hey, Toki," the drummer breathed, drinking some more from the bottle of vodka he was holding. "Dude, y'gatta come'ere for a sec. I gatta tell you somethin'!"
He rolled his eyes and tried to pull away again, but couldn't break free. "Pickle, you ams just drunk! Leaves me alone!"
His green eyes filled with hurt and shame. "But I wanna be with yoooooou..." and without warning, he collapsed into Toki's arms and passed out. The guitarist cursed and tried to resurrect him, but was unsuccessful.
"Pickle, wakes up! Wakes up now!"
After a long while the drummer let out a moan and said drunkenly, "Tooooooookiiiiii..."
"Whats the fucks do you want me to do?"
Pickles put one hand on the guitarist's shoulder to steady himself as he stood up. "T-Toki," he slurred his words as he said, "C'mere."
And he forced his lips over the Norwegian's in a deep kiss; Toki was so taken aback that all he could do was let the drummer kiss him, but as he felt Pickles disgustingly warm, alcohol and vomit-tasting breath enter his mouth, he pulled away and wiped off his lips. "Whats the fuck was that?"
"You kissed me back, y'really did!" the drummer said in shock. He went in to kiss Toki again, but the guitarist pushed him away. Pickles had expected him to melt into his arms, to be overcome by the wild, hot desire that all of his other lovers felt when with him, but there was none of that. There was just Toki glaring at him, blushing madly, and cursing in Norwegian. Pickles could only watch in shock as the guitarist turned and walked off; he stood there clutching his bottle of vodka.
"T...Toki, wait! Where are you goin'? Don't you wanna-"
"Fucks you!" was what he yelled back. "You ams horribles and your breath tastes likes vodka and vomit! Gos brush your teeth!" Pickles hurried to follow him down the hall, but just as he managed to catch up, Toki turned around and exclaimed, "Yous ams so stupids when you ams drunk! What the hell's your problem? Leave me alone!"
"You ams disgusting!" and with that, the Norwegian pushed Pickles away from him angrily and went to rejoin the rest of the band.
Pickles threw his empty bottle of vodka to the floor far below him and laughed when it shattered into a million sparkling shards of glass. Toki was right next to him, handing him another bottle as a Klokateer came wandering out of the Mordhaus. They two of them had managed to acquire a large number of empty bottles and were throwing them carelessly off the roof of the Mordhaus. This was one of many reasons that Toki chose to spend time with the drummer—they always managed to have some fun and fuck something up. It really was incredible.
"Quick, get me another!" Pickles said, frantically holding out his hand.
Toki handed him a second bottle and whispered, "Aims for that guy right there."
"I am, I am! Shut up, you're breaking my focus!" he hissed back, closing one eye and aiming his shot carefully. Just before he let the two bottles fall, he yelled, "Hey, dude! Look up!"
The Klokateer looked up just as the two bottles came crashing down from above; he let out a pained yell and fell onto the ground, a little blood seeping from beneath his black hood. Toki collapsed into the roof laughing insanely, and Pickles did the same.
"That was perfects! You gots such good aim!"
"Yeah, I know. Here, why don't you try?" he offered a bottle to Toki, who shook his head.
"Nos, I'd probably miss."
"C'mon," he urged. "Just throw it down. It won't hurt nothin'."
The guitarist shrugged and took the bottle. He launched it down below, smiling when it shattered into a thousand more sparkling pieces of glass. "This ams pretty fun." he admitted, reaching for another bottle. "I coulds do this all day."
"Throw stuff an people's heads?"
He nodded. "Ja!"
Pickles chuckled. "Yeah, 'dat sounds like something you'd do." he opened a fresh bottle of booze and held it out to Toki. "Want the first drink?"
He took it and drank deeply, until the drummer pulled the bottle away and said with a frown, "Dude, drinkin' ain't a contest. Slow down."
"Yous slow down." he said playfully before snatching back the vodka and drinking some more. He drank until the sky above him was spinning and he couldn't sit up straight. Pickles rolled his eyes.
"You idiot, now you're drunk. What're we gonna do now?"
"Yous could..." he swallowed and let the now empty bottle roll out of his hand. "Yous—you shoulds..." he laughed drunkenly, fell back onto the roof, and covered his eyes from the burning sun. "...headaches..."
"You gat a headache?"
He nodded and held out his hand. "Mores to drink?"
Pickles laughed and shook his head. "No, dude. I think you've had enough."
"I wasn't askings you, though." Toki said, sitting up and opening himself another bottle. "I was tellings you."
The drummer shrugged and laid back on the roof as well, watched as the Norwegian drank away all his previous uncertainties and problems. "Y'knows," he said once he finished that bottle. "I...I never tolds nobody befores, but I really hates the taste of alcohols."
" 'Den why'd you just get drunk, idiot?"
" 'Cause to bes around you makes me feels shy sometimes, likes I should always be perfect."
Pickles frowned. "What?"
"I-I likes you," Toki admitted, closing his pale blue eyes. After a moment he added, "I likes you alots..."
"Oh." the drummer smiled a little and scooted a closer to him. "You'd probably kill me for doin' 'dis any other time, but Toki, how good is your memory when you're drunk?"
He laughed and said, "I don'ts know...pretty bads, I guess."
"Good. Come here." Pickles leaned over and kissed the guitarist tenderly, not at all like the last time he'd done it. This time Toki didn't pull away; he let out a little sigh and eased into it, let the drummer hold him a little closer and touch him a little more.
The next morning when Toki awoke he had a pounding headache and a sour taste in his mouth. He didn't remember a thing.
It was late at night, just before the concert started. Millions of Dethklok fans screamed wildly as the Dethcopter landed and dropped the band members off backstage. Before going on and performing, there was always a moment of brief hesitation, of personal time that each one of the musicians took. For Skwisgaar it was stopping to marvel at his own reflection in the mirror of his dressing room; Nathan always talked to himself, coached himself thru how the concert would go; Murderface sat down and grew utterly and totally silent for once; Pickles drowned out any stage fright he had with booze; Toki sat back and closed his eyes, tried to find a moment of peace amongst all the backstage madness.
Or that's how it usually went. That night, however, something very different happened. Just as Pickles readied himself for his first shot of tequila, Toki walked into his dressing room with a look of concern on his face.
"Hey, what's up, dude?" he put down his shot glass and motioned for Toki to sit down. "You look sick."
"I...I ams not feeling right tonights." he mumbled wretchedly, taking a seat on the couch that sat in the middle of the room.
"You're nervous about the show?"
He nodded and said, his face growing ashy, "I can'ts gos on tonight; Skwisgaar says I ams totally missing the notes and-"
"Toki, c'mere." he held out his hand and the guitarist took it, curiosity and fear shining in his eyes.
"Pickle, what ams you doing?"
"You're gonna be okay."
"Buts whats about what Skwisgaar-"
"He's an idiot. You know 'dat."
"Buts he ams right!" Toki insisted, his words coming out in a rush. "What ifs I mess up? All them peoples will bes watching me! What if-"
"So what? You've played onstage before, so what're you so worried about this time?"
"I..." he looked down and said, his pale eyes full of shame, "I just don'ts wants to looks like an idiot."
"You won't!" Pickles said comfortingly, pressing a hand to the guitarist's cheek. "Trust me. You're always amazing."
"You thinks so?" looked up into the drummer's bright green eyes. "You thinks I ams amazing?"
He nodded. "Always. You're the best guitarist I've ever seen in my life."
"Thanks, Pickle. I-"
"You're still nervous, huh?"
Toki hesitated before confessing, "Ja, a littles."
Pickles gave him a little half-smile and pulled him up and into his arms. He embraced him tightly before pulling away and slowly leaning forward to kiss the Norwegian. He was terrified of rejection, but there wasn't any. Toki leaned into the kiss and accepted it; he stood there, holding both of the drummer's hands tightly, almost in desperation. He knew as soon as the moment was over he'd be scared again, get his old stage fright back, so he made the kiss last as long as he could. When Pickles did pull away, he felt his heart flood with fear again.
"When you're nervous, I'm nervous too," he explained, turning around and downing his tequila. Just as Toki opened his mouth to say something else, Ofdensen entered the room and pointed to his watch.
"Two minutes to showtime, boys. Get ready."
"We are! Fuck aff!" Pickles yelled back, clearly annoyed at the interruption. Once Ofdensen had gone again, he turned to Toki and reached for his hand."C'mon," he said softly. "It's showtime."