It had all started because Charles had refused Nathan's advances. Nathan was not typically into the homo thing, but Charles was not your typical homo. He could kill a dude. With his pinky. It was fucking brutal. And he liked metal instead of that gay Broadway shit. If Charles hadn't come right out and said he was a homo, Nathan never would have known. But now he knew and it was actually kinda awesome because it meant that Nathan had a shot with him. Because, let's face it, Nathan was the most brutal singer on the planet and Charles was the most brutal lawyer and if they got together the universe would probably implode under the weight of so much concentrated brutality. And that was like, awesome. And something that should totally happen, forever.
Which is why it was such a shock when Charles said no. And then he wouldn't even let Nathan talk about it. It was totally weird, because everyone, everyone in this case meaning everyone in the band, could tell that Charles was into Nathan. It was like blindingly obvious when he was shitfaced. He sat in Nathan's lap and played with his hair. You'd have to be dumber than Dethklok not to notice.
So Nathan got drunk, not because he was upset but because it was a day that ended in y, and poured his heart out to the rest of the band. Don't tell anyone this, because it is totally unmetal, but the guys were kind of like his best friends when they weren't being total dicks. So when his heart got broken by his stupidly handsome manager, they were the ones to listen while he totally didn't wine about his heartache.
Charles was completely unaware that anything was wrong. Sure, Nathan had gotten extremely drunk the night before, but it was a day that ended in y. Which is why he damn near jumped out of his suit, when Pickles knocked on his door bright and early the next morning. It was unprecedented for Pickles, who normally slept like the dead, to wake up before noon.
As Pickles entered his office shouting an inebriated wooohoooo, Charles realized it wasn't a matter of waking up early, so much as it was a case of never having gone to sleep in the first place. Trying to be as professional as possible Charles asked, "What can I do for you, Pickles?"
Pickles stared at a spot that only he could see and enunciated the word dude like he was taking it on a sixteen syllable roller coaster ride.
"You ah, needed something?" Charles prompted, hoping to hurry this process along, he had a mountain of paperwork to get back to.
"Ya need ta go do that thing that ya didn't do." he slurred drunkenly.
Charles was confused. He was doing his paperwork, what other things had he left undone?
"What ah, thing do I need to do?" he asked Pickles.
"Dood, not a thing but ya know a..." Pickles waved his hands about wildly in a manner that was completely inexpressive. "Doodle-lee-do...thing doodle-lee..wha?" he was starring blearily at Charles as if he had just suddenly noticed him for the first time.
"Right," said Charles, picking up the phone. "I'll just go, ah, call one of the klokateers to come put you to bed."
It took all of fifteen seconds for a klokateer to collect Pickles and throw him over his shoulder. As the klokateer exit his office and Pickles wiggled his fingers in an inebriated imitation of a wave, he shouted one last piece of drunken advice. "But really dood, you should do it, it will be awesome."
Charles got back down to the paperwork at hand and put the incident out of his mind.
That is, until after dinner.
The day had seemed normal enough even after Pickles' visit. The band had staggered awake in the late afternoon and avoid the recording studio like the plague. Murderface had bad touched another female klokateer, Toki and Skwisgaar had had a fight that degenerate into hair pulling and Nathan had blown something up with his stupid fireworks. Perfectly normal.
Charles was still in his office after dinner. With Dethklok there wasn't really an end to the paperwork, just a point at which Charles could take no more for the day. Skwisgaar hadn't bothered to knock, he never did, and just stormed right in like he owned the place. Charles dutifully put down his work and waited for him to speak.
Skwisgaar stared disinterestedly at Charles' newest selection of 'good lamps'. At least Charles hoped that was disinterest, he was hoping the lamps would last another week without being smashed.
Finally, staring at Charles' favorite desk lamp in an almost threatening manner, Skwisgaar got down to business.
"Amn'ts you ever having seeing Nathkens naked?" he asked.
"What?" Charles had seen Nathan naked, the boys spent most of their days freeballing then getting drunk enough to lose their pants. He just, wasn't sure how to answer that question.
"Nathkan, he ams..." Skwisgaar spread out his hands to indicate an object of great length.
Charles coughed once to cover his confusion and longed to return to his paperwork. "Yes, I ah, had noticed."
"The dethsluts," Skwisgaar continued, "they ams tellking me it ams, enjoyables."
Charles stared at Skwisgaar in disbelieve. Why was he telling him this?
Skwisgaar gave Charles a cold, calculating look, willing him to get to some unspoken point.
"Thoughts, you shoulds bees knowing."
Then he turned and left Charles to his confusion.
All in all it was still a fairly average day for Dethklok and Charles put the incidents out of his mind. The band was always going on about something and either Charles would figure it out or they would move on.
It all became much clearer when Toki came into visit him the next morning.
"Whys amn't you goes outs with Nathan?"
Charles covered his face with his hand for a second. It was all falling into place. That had been the thing, that was not a thing, that Pickles had wanted him to do.
When Charles failed to respond, Toki urged him on. "Nathans am says he likes you. And we alls thinkings you likes him toos."
"This is a deep and complex issue between adults, Toki. Not middle school. Nathan asked me out, I said no, end of discussion."
Toki stared at Charles forlornly and Charles had the insane urge to reassure him that mummy and daddy were still friends, this wasn't his fault and they weren't breaking up the band. He didn't say anything though, because Toki was a grown ass man, he and Nathan were not mummy and daddy , and he was pretty sure the devil himself couldn't break up the band till the Metalocalypse had run its course.
Eventually Toki left and Charles contemplated taking an emergency business trip to the other side of the world until this whole thing blew over.
In the end he stayed because he figured the worst was over with. The band would forget about it and move on. Oh, how wrong he was.
When Murderface showed up in his office a day later he didn't immediately think to run for cover. That was a mistake. While the other members of the band had secret soft spots a mile wide, Murderface really was callous all over. Particularly about the gay issue. Charles figured he'd come by to bitch about yet another female klokateer suing him for sexual harassment.
Instead of bitching, Murderface leaned over the desk invading Charles' personal space, hands twitching for his switch blade.
"This is so fucking gay,(Gay!)" it was like listening to someone with Tourettes. Every few words Murderface would twitch and shout gay like an involuntary reflex. It was so surreal he almost missed the rest of the conversation. "But like the gay fucking homo that you are(Gay!), you need to man up and go fuck Nathan(Gay!) so he'll stop bitching all the time(Gay!) like a whiney little homo. GAY!"
Charles needed a moment, and probably a drink, to recover from the surrealness of that little speech. "While I appreciate the level of dedication you boys are showing Nathan, with all due respect it's none of your business."
Murderface looked at Charles with indignant rage.
"None of my god damned(Gay!) business?" Murderface poked one smelly finger at Charles' chest, it left an awful grimy black finger print on his white dress shirt. "He won't shut up about it.(Gay!) I don't care if you're a god damn eunuch(Gay!) and in love with the stapler. You need to go do something. At the very least (Gay!) you need to blow him."
Charles stared at Murderface in horror while he hiccupped a few final 'gays'. This was just too much to deal with. Staring evenly over his glasses Charles said as calmly as he could manage, "Get out."
Murderface opened his mouth to say something else.
"No. Get out." It was the tone of voice that promised a swift and painful end. He had never used it on one of the boys before. Murderface turn and got out with no further comment.
Charles put down what he had been working on and poured himself a stiff drink.
Charles went off looking for Nathan early enough the next morning so that he wouldn't be drunk, but late enough for him to be awake. Charles found him, thankfully alone, in the kitchen, drinking coffee and decimating a bag of potato chips. Charles sat down across from him at the table. The room was silent save for the crunching of the potato chips. They were both trying their hardest not to look at the other. Charles broke first.
"Look, If I go out with you, will you promise, promise, sign a legally binding contract, that I never have to hear to Murderface talk about my sexlife, ever, ever again?"
Nathan looked confused. Charles probably should have waited until later in the day to have this conversation, but he couldn't run the risk of one of the guys deciding they needed to pay him a second visit.
Nathan's brain took a minute to process. When it did, his face lit up.
"What? Yeah, totally!" Nathan agreed. "I'll pound his damn face in, if that's what it takes. Anything."
Charles took a moment to appreciate the enthusiasm on the singers face. He felt the stirrings of something like hope, and for the first time in a long time, didn't immediately squash it.
"Good, I've made us a reservation for seven, try not to be drunk and wear something nice."
Nathan's grin was face splitting, despite the condescension in Charles' tone.
Charles couldn't help himself, as he stood up to leave he leaned over the table to place a single light kiss to the corner of that earth shattering grin.
To soften the sentimentality of the action Charles added, "Good. And if Murderface ever tells me what to do with my dick again, I'm leaving you. For a boy band."
Nathan was still grinning like an idiot when Charles walked out the door, despite the threat.
end