A/N: You know, I never thought I'd come back here except to read. And yet here I am posting something. Astonishingly, it's not Kingdom Hearts or Final Fantasy, both of which are my current obsessions. I posted this on Y!Gallery, and it was well-received, so I thought I'd let you all have a go at it. First Metalocalypse fic, so please don't be too harsh. Hell, it's my first fic in about a year. Oh well, whatever.

-Never Let Him See-

In public, around the rest of the band, Skwisgaar regarded Toki with a mixture of contempt and a big brother-ish tolerance, which occasionally descended into open rivalry or hatred depending on the situation. When it was just the two of them, he dropped the contempt, or at least part of it, and his manner became something more friendly. (He was not above the more than occasional "You's a dildos, Toki," however.) He never, ever, though, showed anything resembling honest-to-God love towards the rhythm guitarist, even when they were in the privacy of Toki's or Skwisgaar's room.

However, at night, when the little Norwegian was asleep, arms curled around that stupid bear, Skwisgaar sometimes allowed a look of fondness to replace the coldly arrogant sneer. It was hard not to smile while watching Toki sleep. There were times when his toned arms wrapped about that teddy bear with such a strength as to nearly behead the thing, clinging to it like a drowning sailor to a spar of wood. His eyebrows drew in slightly, the corners of his mouth turned down just a mere few millimeters. He so resembled a little child clutching the one thing that was good in his life. At first Skwisgaar wondered why he relied on the stuffed animal for a source of comfort, and it had irked the Swede that he'd turn to a toy instead of a warm human body. Then he'd decided the childlike gesture fit the rhythm guitarist, and began to find the habit endearing.

Those nights, Skwisgaar put his arms around Toki and Deddybear both, feeling oddly protective of the younger man as he drew them close. If Toki suffered nightmares, he never spoke of them, and Skwisgaar was not one to press the issue. Gradually, bit by bit, Toki's brow would smooth, his lips straighten, and his whole body would relax against Skwisgaar's. Sometimes he'd nudge his head beneath Skwisgaar's chin, trying to get as close as he could. He'd give a soft sigh and mutter something unintelligible, and would refuse to budge for the rest of the night.

In those moments, and those moments only, a look of such affection and something close to love would cross the Swede's face that it would have been hard to recognize him. The sneer vanished entirely, his icy eyes softened, his calloused fingers traced soothingly through Toki's long hair. An onlooker would not be able to believe what he was seeing; that the cold-hearted, sneering, vain, infamous womanizer could show such tenderness towards anyone, let alone another man.

By the morning, the sneer and the attitude were back in place, and sometimes Toki wondered if Skwisgaar loved him at all. There were times when Skwisgaar regretted making the little Norwegian doubt him at all, but Toki would never see those looks of warmth. They were looks for the dark only, when no one, including Skwisgaar himself, could see them. He'd little idea why he was so unwilling to let his true feelings show; it wasn't a reputation issue, or some misguided sense of masculine pride, or anything like that. Perhaps he felt he could never truly trust someone with so vulnerable a part of him. But, whatever the reason, he would hide himself, as much or as little as he thought he could get away with.

And so he continued his charade, keeping his moments of love for the early morning when Toki was asleep with his head under the Swede's chin, when all was dark and no one could see him, in those rare moments when he hid nothing. He wouldn't let anyone see him so vulnerable, see him with his feelings laid bare for dissection like the frogs Nathan had sliced up in school.

He would never let Toki see.