Puppy Pile

Rating: PG
Category: AU
Pairing(s): Toki/Skwisgaar… sorta
Warnings: Some sap and a few little spoilers for Deth Dad but nothing major.
Summary: It’s been a brutal few days. Time to pile onto the bed, have some cheese, and thaw out.
Notes: Here you go! A full thirty minutes in the brains of the comedy duo that is Rat & Rei in ficlet form. She and I are firmly convinced that one of the great secrets of Dethklok is the “puppy pile”, in other words that when things are particularly bad they all pile into Nathan’s bed (his is the biggest) and just huddle and cuddle together until they feel better. Of course no one knows this. And if they DO know this then they better not talk about it.

They shambled into the hotel room, saying nothing, dropping their bags onto the floor as they distractedly checked out the room. Nathan carried Toki over to the bed and placed him on it, then took his face between his enormous hands and looked into the blank blue eyes.

“Ish he back yet?” asked Murderface.

“No. Not yet. He should be soon, though.” Nathan stroked Toki’s hair, then flopped to his back, making everything on the bed including Toki bounce. “This sucks.” He looked over at Pickles, sparing a brief glance for Skwisgaar’s finely made backside as he bent over to shake the ice crystals out of his hair.

“Who you calling, Pickles?”

Pickles had already finished dialling and had received an answer. "Hey, Ahfdensen? Yeah it's Pickles. Um... okay. See.... Toki just accidentally dropped his dad into a frozen lake and killed him. We would really appreciate it if you could come, like.... NOW?!"

Thousands of miles away, Charles sighed. “I'm already packed.”

"Personally I would have dropped the old bastard on purpose,” said Pickles, “but yeah... was an accident."

“Well, I'm coming,” said Charles. “Try and keep Toki indoors.”

"'at's fine,” said Pickles. “Hey, we're in a puppy pile at the Reindeer Inn. Hey you should come join."

There was a pause. “I'll just... see you there.”

“Okay then. See you soon.”

Nathan watched Pickles hang up. "Is he coming?"

"Yeah but I don't think he's gonna join the pile."

"F//guitar riff//"

“Why you cares?” asked Skwisgaar, tossing his long damp hair back, fluffing it so it would dry. “Dat's beings kinds of weird anyways, ja?”

Nathan shot him a cold, sidelong glance as Pickles gently drew Toki close, stroking his hair.

"Yeah,” said Nathan. “It's weird the same way you eating the face off that pretty Goth kid who was flirting with Toki at the last show was.”

Skwisgaar immediately became defensive. “What's dat's gots to does wit' anyt'ings?!”

Nathan just grinned at him, deciding he’s not playing this game. It would be too easy to win.

"Look I just want Ofdensen here because... you know, I.... think he's kinda hot in a repressed paper-shuffler sort of way."

In the background Murderface sputtered in horror at what Nathan had just said. Skwisgaar continued to fuss with his hair, looking thoughtful.

“You t'inks he's hot?” He shrugged. “Okays, I gets dat. Dat's makings sense den.”

"Yeah I can see that, he's got that whole evil accountant thing going on, yeah I see that,” said Pickles. He put an arm around Toki and cuddled him.

Skwisgaar gave his hair a final shake and sat on the bed. “I don'ts. Nots really into nerds. But I gets dat's Nat'ans wantings hims here becauses of dats, 'cause I don'ts knows why else he woulds.”

Pickles tried to coax a reaction out of Toki, playing with his whiskers. "Dood nerds are the best lovers, didn't you know that? All that repressed sexual tension crammed down into that little grey suit behind those little grey glasses. I bet he's a screamer. Probably a back-scratcher too. I bet he can go all night like a carnival ride."

Nathan gave Pickles an annoyed look. "Uh... please don't talk about Charles that way."

“Oh ja, I likes lady nerds,” said Skwisgaar. “And youngs guy nerds okays, too. But nots old guy nerds.” He shot Nathan a confused look as he asked Pickles not to talk about Charles. “What's is problems? We talks abouts peoples we wants to f//guitar riff// all da times.

"Because Charles is different. I don't just wanna f//guitar riff// him, I think... I could actually see myself talking to him afterwards. I think I really LIKE him."

Skwisgaar blinked in confusion. “You whats?”

Nathan’ s eyes darted guiltily as he muttered very quietly; "I... think I really like him. Like.... a lot."

Skwisgaar’s brain was not absorbing the concept. “Ja... You likes hims to f//guitar riff//...?”

"No I think I'd like him to be my boyfriend. Weird huh?"

Skwisgaar stared at him, not comprehending, his brow furrowing. “I's... No, I's not followings you.”

Murderface, who very happy to not be the dumbest guy in the room for a change, added his gentle explanation to the perplexed Swede.

“He's shaying he wantsh a relatchionship with him, dickfasche!!”

“Sexual relationships...?”

“Jusht... Jusht forget it, go play with a yo-yo or shomething. Jeezshy...” Murderface rummaged through a bag. “Oh beer! Nice and icy, too. And cheese!”

“Oh toss it here!” said Nathan.

Murderface handed out beer from a bag like a frightfully ugly and dysfunctional Santa. Pickles cuddled poor unresponsive Toki, looking into the blank and unfocused blue eyes. No sign of life. None. He glanced towards Skwisgaar.

"Here, dood, you hold him, my arms are falling asleep."

Skwisgaar continued to stare at Murderface in confusion for a little while longer, then forgot about him and carefully accepted Toki, settling him comfortably in his arms. He froze, a look of supreme annoyance crossing his face, as Pickles took a picture of the two cuddling.

“Why is you doings dat?” asked Skwisgaar, irritated.

“Dood, to post on a fahn site, just because... y'know, it's cute. Girls go nuts over that sh//guitar riff//.”

Murderface finished handing out beer and cheese and climbed onto the bed to join the rest of his bandmates. “Sho you like Mr. Numbers, huh?” he said, addressing Nathan.

"Yeah. But... I don't think he likes me the same way. Man I'd like to do him."

Murderface curled his lip in distaste “Yeeeeah, uh... The doing him part I really don't get, but whatever floatsh your boat.”

Meanwhile, as the conversation and the devouring of cheese was going on, Toki raised him head and looked around. Safe. He’s safe. He’s in a warm place with the guys, and that’s all he cares about. He snuggled against Skwisgaar, drawing attention to himself. Skwisgaar glanced down and saw the life slowly returning to Toki’s eyes. He smiled, speaking softly as he stroked the long brown hair.

“You's awake! Dat's good.”

Toki blinked sleepily, happy just to be held and snuggled, not quite ready to talk yet. Skwisgaar pet Toki's hair, fishing Deddy Bear out from one of the bags with his free hand. Toki gladly accepted his bear, still not ready to talk but feeling better. He let Pickles feed him some pickled herring, while Nathan continued his conversation with Murderface.

"So uh... what's up with you and Knubbler? You follow his ass around like it's a magnet."

“It'sh a nice ass.”

"It's a non-ass. The man is assless. He's a pipe cleaner in a suit."

“Hey, shut up!! That'sh my man you're talking about! Don't make me shtart saying things about the robot, 'caushe I've got a million!”

"At least my robot has an ass."

“Mother f//guitar riff//er!! I'm trying to be nice here and not make asshumptions about the shize of the robot's dick!”

Pickles looked over at Murderface "Dood what are you tahking about, the robot's dick is right there." He pointed at Nathan, who clobbered Pickles with a pillow.

Skwisgaar managed to look as if he was having a thought. “Now you mentionings it, I wonders how bigs is really being?”

Murderface twitched in disgust. “Aw, grossh. I didn't wanna shtart that.”

Pickles grinned as Nathan kept bopping him with a pillow. He mimed calling someone on his phone.

"Hey, Ahfdensen? Yeah. We all got a question and we want you to not yell at us but.... how big is your dick? Nathan won't shut up about it, I think he's obsessesed or something."

Skwisgaar’s eyes lit up. “Oh, dos it!! Calls him and says dat! Dos it!”

“NO!” yelled Nathan. “Pickles don’t you dare!”

Pickles did, and repeated the statement word for word, waiting for Charles to formulate a response. Skwisgaar made an oddly girlish noise of suppressed glee. Nathan made a dive for the phone in an effort to get it away from Pickles. Charles meanwhile had absolutely not the slightest idea what to think about that question or how to respond, and was silent for quite a long time. Nathan finally managed to get the phone and brought it up to his ear.

"Charles? Yeah. Uh... ignore them. They're high, they're REAL high. I don't think about how big your dick is or what you look like naked or what kind of sounds you make in bed or how good you smell or NONE of that. Okay? Seriously. I don't. Really. Or.... at least... not very often."

There was another long silence. Then finally Charles spoke.

“Nathan?”

"Yeah?"

“Seven and one quarter inches, last I checked. Is that all or can I get on the helicopter now?”

Nathan’s brain did the blue screen of doom. He slowly fell over, unable to believe what he had just heard. Pickles grabbed the phone.

"Hey Charles? That's cool, that’s all we wanted to know, we'll let you go now. But I think Nathan’s in a coma.”

“Well just roll him onto his stomach so he doesn't choke,” said Charles. There was a quiet little sound that could have been a laugh. “I'll be there in a few hours.”

"Okay. Bye."

Pickles hung up and looked over at Nathan, who looked like he just saw him mom and dad doing the nasty.

"Seven and one quarter inches,” he mumbled. “I don't know what freaks me out more. That he measured it or that he TOLD me."

Skwisgaar was grinning, far too delighted with the entire situation. “Well you dids ask him.”

Murderface shrugged. “Dude, everybody measures.”

Toki was a silent spectator to all of this. He’d never measured himself and had no intention of doing so, but he was hardly inclined to mention that. Besides, he was getting Swedish snuggles and that was all he wants right then. Playful and yet very shy, he nipped Skwisgaar's chin, virtually unnoticed by his bandmates.

"Okay, I did not ask Charles how big his ding-dong is,” said Nathan. “Pickles did."

“Well, Pickle saids you wantings to know, so dat counts as you doingks it,” said Skwisgaar.

He smiled down at Toki as he was nipped, giving his forehead a playful nuzzle as he spoke in soft, affectionate Swedish to him. Pickles and Nathan shot each other amused glances as the two Scandinavian airheads, who were definitely not into each other, and if they were it would ONLY be for sex, nuzzle and purr. Toki nudged Skwisgaar back, then delicately nipped his lower lip. Skwisgaar rubbed their noses together, reaching up to play with Toki's whiskers. Murderface decided that he found this just too sickeningly sweet to watch and redirected his gaze to Nathan.

“Sho he told you how big his wee-wee is?”

“Yeah,” said Nathan.

“Y'think he'll let you bone him when he getsh here?”

Nathan was affronted. "I don't know! You don't just bone a guy like him, he's classy! He's educated! He's.... completely out of my league. Nah. He'll probably tell me to go stick my dick in a meat grinder."

“He could've told you that on the phone,” said Murderface.

"No because classy guys don't tell you off on the phone."

“I do,” said Murderface.

“I rest my case.”

Nathan nudged Pickles, and the two watched, grinning, as Toki did what they thought he would never ever in a billion years have the guts to do; plant a shy little kiss on Skwisgaar's full lips. Murderface of course was oblivious, reaching for more cheese.

“Well, try and shtay positive, dude. If you imagine he'sh planning to fuck your brainsh out when he getsh here, then at leasht you'll be happy until he does get here and rejectsh you.”

Nathan mulled over the Wisdom of Murderface and decided it was probably not the dumbest thing he's ever heard. He’s pretty sure he’s heard dumber. Nearby, Toki cringed after kissing Skwisgaar. He said nothing, still not quite ready to speak, and hoped Skwisgaar was not upset by the kiss. He didn’t seem to be. He seemed more surprised than anything, and drew back slightly to look down into Toki’s large blue eyes.

“Tokis?”

Toki cringed a little more, still not ready to speak. Nathan decided that the only decent thing to do was pretend he was not aware of any of this.

“Well, I’m calling room service. I’m f//guitar riff//ing hungry. Anybody want anything?”

Murderface perked up. “Do they have cheesesteaks? Get a cheesesteak. I feel like eating a cheesesteak.”

“I don’t think Norwegians eat cheesesteak.”

The three Americans looked to their one lone Norwegian to clear up the matter, but the Norwegian was currently busy with the Swede. Nathan sighed and spent the next ten minutes explaining to someone on the phone that yes, he really did want a fried steak with melted cheese all over it. In fact he wanted two.

“Oh and get some herring for Toki,” said Pickles, “’Cause… y’know, he was asking about it.”

“Oh,” said Nathan. “And some pickled herring.”

“Woulds you likes cheese on dats too?” asked the man on the other end of the phone dryly.

“Hey. Don’t be a smart ass.”

Nathan ordered cheesesteaks, pickled herring, booze and a few other things. Skwisgaar’s eyes darted quickly between Toki and the rest of the guys, trying to decide if they were suitably distracted before placing a kiss to the corner of Toki’s mouth. He then whispered very softly in his native language into Toki’s ear.

“We’ll wait until we're alone for more."

Toki finally spoke, but very quietly.

"Don't wants more. Gots whats I want here."

Toki closed his eyes, settling against the lean body that held him. Skwisgaar smiled, stroking his hair fondly as he watched Toki drift into a light doze.

“You rests, little Tokis. Is all okays. You see. It’s all beings okays when you wakes up.”

Toki snuggled a little closer, smiling, and Skwisgaar kissed his head.

The mood was ruined slightly when Nathan shoved a lit firecracker down the back of Murderface’s pants.