DISCLAIMER: Metalocalypse and its characters belong to Brandon Small and Tony Blacha. "While My Guitar Gently Weeps" belongs to The Beatles.
AUTHOR'S NOTE: How could I not use this song in a series about guitar players? Toki and Skwisgaar can only keep their relationship secret for so long…
While My Guitar Gently Weeps
I look at you all, see the love there that's sleeping…
"Where the fuck is Toki?" Nathan growled to Pickles. "His tracks are all fucked up and he needs to rerecord them."
"I dunno, dude," Pickles said. "Probably still asleep."
"I wanna get this shit done!" the front man bellowed. "Come on. Let's go find the little douchebag."
The two of them set off towards the wing of Mordhaus that contained the band's private quarters.
"Toki! Wake up, asshole!" Nathan yelled as he pounded on the rhythm guitarist's door.
"Fuck it, dude," Pickles said. "Just open the door!"
The drummer pushed the door open and entered the small room. The various model airplanes swung idly from their cords as the opening door created a slight breeze. The room was empty.
"Where the fuck is he?" Nathan asked, entering the room behind Pickles.
"Dunno," Pickles replied. "Maybe Skwisgaar's seen 'im"
"Skwisgaar hates that little dildo," Nathan said. "Why would he know?"
"What do we have to lose?" Pickles asked.
"I guess you're right," Nathan mumbled as they set off down the hall.
The two didn't bother knocking on Skwisgaar's door. They froze in the doorway. At least they'd found Toki.
The guitarists gaped wide-eyed at their band mates. The jig was up; there was no way to talk their way out of this one. The pair was naked, Skwisgaar on his back with Toki straddling him. The blonde's dexterous fingers still gripped Toki's hips. Toki snapped out of his stupor and clambered off Skwisgaar, burying his head beneath the blankets. A miserable groan escaped his lips. Skwisgaar sat up, crossing his arms in front of his bare chest and looking defiantly at Nathan and Pickles. He remained calm, but mentally he was kicking himself.
I don't know why nobody told you…
The secrecy had been taking a toll on Toki and he'd brought it up to Skwisgaar a few nights previously. He wanted to tell the others, but Skwisgaar had been dragging his feet. Toki could be so naïve at times and Skwisgaar didn't want to see his young lover get hurt. The world could be an ugly place for gay men, especially when they're members of the world's most brutal death metal band. Skwisgaar wanted to preserve these clandestine days of their relationship, a time in which his Toki was temporarily safe from the dark side of the path they'd chosen. He shouldn't have waited and now, because of his hesitation, Toki was forced to come out the hardest way possible.
With every mistake we must surely be learning…
Nathan and Pickles stood in the doorway, eyes wide, mouths opening and closing as if unable to find the right words to express their sudden onslaught of emotions. Nathan turned from the sight before him and stormed down the hallway.
"Dude, where are you going?" Pickles called after him.
"I can't handle this shit!" Nathan called back. "I'm goin' to find Offdensen!"
"Wait up!" Pickles yelled.
Before exiting the room he turned to Skwisgaar, an almost apologetic look on his face.
"Fuck," Skwisgaar sighed, putting his face in his hands.
I look at the world and I notice it's turning…
How long would it be until Offdensen was calling them to his office? Maybe ten minutes. He shuddered to think of what was to come of them now. Toki reappeared from beneath the blankets, his blue eyes wide and swimming with tears. The sight was too much for Skwisgaar. He pulled Toki into his arms and clung to him as if he would disappear at any moment. Toki shook in the blonde's arms as sobs wracked his body.
"I loves you, Toki," he whispered. "They ams nots going to change that."
Skwisgaar turned to the end table as his dethphone rang. His hands shook as he picked it up.
"Hellos?"
"Skwisgaar, it's Charles. Collect Toki and come to my office. We've got a situation to discuss."
Toki nodded when Skwisgaar turned to him; he knew what must be done. The pair dressed in silence. Skwisgaar put an arm around Toki as they walked to meet their fate. This must be what it felt like to walk death row.
How to unfold your love…
Skwisgaar took a deep breath before opening the door to Offdensen's office and going in, pulling Toki behind him.
"Hello boys," Charles said. "I assume you know why you're here."
Toki's eyes were locked on the floor, his feet shuffling nervously.
"Ja," Skwisgaar replied, his eyes locked with the manager's.
He moved closer to the terrified Norwegian and wrapped his arms around him. Toki buried his face amongst the blonde hair tumbling over Skwisgaar's shoulders. The older man planted a kiss on the top of Toki's head, muttering something in Swedish.
"So you two are together," Charles observed. "It's not just a sex thing. I think that's what the boys thought when they walked in on you."
"Ja," Skwisgaar said. "We ams together."
Toki smiled against Skwisgaar's shoulder. Part of him worried that if caught Skwisgaar would deny everything to save himself.
"Well," Charles said, fiddling with his glasses. "That makes things a little more complicated."
The man at the desk looked up at the Europeans standing in front of him. Never would he have thought that he'd have to deal with such a situation. He couldn't imagine Skwisgaar tied down to one person, let alone his fellow Dethklok guitarist.
"What ams goings to happen?" Toki asked, looking up from Skwisgaar's shoulder.
"I don't know," Charles replied. "I don't think I can make this decision alone. I'm going to arrange a meeting with the rest of the band."
He peered down at his own dethphone and began looking through schedules.
"This may take a while, boys," he said without looking up. "I'll get back to you."
Skwisgaar ushered Toki out of the office and back to his room. The Norwegian collapsed on the bed, exhausted from the day's events. Skwisgaar lay beside him, running his fingers through the rich brown locks. Once his lover had drifted off to sleep he sat up, taking his Explorer from its stand. He sat on the edge of the bed, pouring his feelings into the instrument. Tears fell over his furiously moving fingers. He wept for himself and for Toki and for the uncertainty of their future. They were in this together, no matter what.
While my guitar gently weeps.
