There's Got to be a Morning After

Rating: PG
Category: AU
Pairing(s): Nathan/Charles
Warnings: None, other than a possible WTFOMG! moment at the end.
Summary: Strange bedfellows are sometimes the most interesting ones.
Notes: For tod_hollykim! Happy birthday hon! Sorry it’s a bit late.

Morning. Oh… man. What did he do last night? Well there was the concert of course, and then the after-party. It had been a good party. They’d run into another metal band they were friendly with, as well as a small collection of fans that they knew so well they were becoming like family. It was the drummer’s birthday, so they threw him a party. Lots of booze, lots of illicit substances… after that things got a little blurry. Oh man… his head felt like a rotten melon…

Nathan raised a hand to his pounding head. From beside him came a soft sound, and the quiet rustle of somebody stirring under the sheets. It seemed he had not returned home alone last night. Slowly, carefully, Nathan rolled over, finding a small body next to his. He slipped a hand down over his companion’s arm. Hmm… bit stocky and hard to be a woman. Oh well, it wasn’t as if he had never brought a man home before. It was rare, but it did happen. Usually however his men were little pretty things, like something out of a Japanese anime. This guy felt like a boxer. He was small, but well-knit and powerful, and more masculine than Nathan usually went for. Still he must have something going for him for Nathan to have brought him to bed. Nathan shifted closer to his companion, dipping his head to kiss the back of his neck.

“Good morning,” he growled quietly.

There was some shuffling and a few muted sounds of protest. Nathan grinned. “C’mon, let me see your pretty face.”

There was a squeak, and his lover pulled the blankets over his head.

“None of that,” Nathan quietly teased, gently pushing the blankets down. “Come close. C’mon.”

The man squeaked again, then rolled over, pressing close to Nathan, settling against him with a contented little sound, one hand resting on Nathan’s chest. Nathan stared in cold horror as he recognized the man with him; taking in the short chestnut hair, the firm jaw, and the cute little dimples on either side of the perfect little mouth.

Charles.

‘Oh crap,’ thought Nathan. ‘Crap crap crap crap crap CRAP! Okay, calm down Explosion, maybe it’s not what it looks like….’

Charles was waking up by degrees. He nuzzled up to Nathan, parting his lips in invitation, then whispered; “You were fantastic.”

Oooo-kaayyy… soooo it was exactly what it looked liked. Um… wow. He… and Ofdensen… HOW?! He honestly couldn’t think of two people more mismatched! Skwisgaar and Murderface would come close, but…

Charles nudged closer, softly kissing him. Nathan, responded to the kiss, running one hand over Charles’ strong body. Man he was fit. Bet he had a nice tight little ass…

“How did you end up here?” asked Nathan.

“You don’t remember?” asked Charles.

“I have not a fucking clue.”

“Well you were a little drunk.”

Nathan ran his hand over Charles’ hair. “I musta been fucking hammered to have the guts to make a move on you.”

Charles lightly bit Nathan’s lower lip. “Who said you made the first move?”

Nathan raised an eyebrow. “You mean you…?”

“Is that so strange?”

“Well... yeah! I mean I had… no idea…”

“No idea what?” asked Charles softly, kissing him. “That I had desires? Feelings? Needs?”

“Yeah.”

“I do.”

“I’m figuring that out.” Nathan slowly rolled onto his back, grinning as Charles moved over top of him, rumpled, naked, his brown eyes rimmed with red from a night of drinking. He straddled the enormous body beneath him, bracing himself on his arms, his hands pressing against Nathan’s broad chest. Nathan stroked a hand over Charles’ thigh. “You really surprised me.”

Charles leaned forward to kiss him. “Well I didn’t get to where I am now by being predictable.” He kissed him again, moving himself against him. “Care for another round?”

Nathan reached up to gently pull at the soft brown hair. “How about we have breakfast and a shower, then spend all day getting to know each other better?”

“I like that idea,” whispered Charles, and kissed him once more.

***---***

Skwisgaar opened his eyes, aware of a strange odour. He was sore, suggesting he’d been having pretty frisky sex the night before, and his long body had a warm, sated feel. He sat up, stretching, then looked down at the lump beside him. He leaned forward to run his slender hand over the covered body, and said softly in Swedish; “Good morning, beautiful.”

The lump snorted and grumbled, then rolled over. Skwisgaar stared in utter horror at the frizzy brown hair, the bad moustache, the gap between the front teeth, and the square Neanderthal jaw. He grasped the blanket and hauled it up to cover himself.

“WHATS IS DA HELL MEANINGS OF YOU IS BEINGS IN MY BEDS?!”

Murderface opened one eye. “Well good morning to you, too.” He sat up and stared at the horrified Swede. “You know you’re really pretty when you’re all turned on. I don’t shay that often ‘caushe mosht guys jusht shorta look like a randy moosh, but you’re really pretty.”

“Tells me I didn’ts sleeps wit’ you,” said Skwisgaar.

“Shee I can’t do that.” Murderface picked up a remote and turned on the TV. Skwisgaar watched in horror as he saw himself lying beneath Murderface, clawing his back, screaming in pleasure, yelling something about… calluses….

Skwisgaar whimpered. Murderface ran a hand over the long silky golden hair.

“Care for another romp?”

Skwisgaar watched himself on the TV. It was horrid! Ghastly! Unthinkable! But… he did seem to be having fun…

“Ah whats da hell,” said Skwisgaar.