Disclaimer: I do not own The Nightmare Before Christmas or any of the characters from the movie or games, they are the sole propperty of Tim Burton.
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Barrel loved watching Lock draw up plans and booby-traps. Seeing a master at work, while he sat and watched was the most he could ask for. He had no head for math or calculations of any kind. No, his strength was in brute force.
That's how it was. Lock was the technician, Shock mobilized forces and was a master of diplomacy, Barrel picked up the slack. It was what was. It worked.
But lately Shock had been reclusive and snippy to Lock's leadership. Not that anyone could blame her. Jealousy usually has that kind of effect on people. It was obvious she was jealous of one cruel fact:
To say that Shock had become the most beautiful of the group would have been a lie. A very bad lie.
As he had reached maturity Lock had become lean and seductive in his looks. He had retained his Handsome-Devil hair-cut, but his face had filled out, making it less angular and sharp around the chin and cheekbones. Puberty had given him the kind boon of a goatee and light moustache. His skin had became a creamy white, having lost the chalk-like quality of his youth. In short, his looks had become a power-house of sensuality.
Barrel smiled to himself. He hadn't turned out to bad either. He was muscular and had gained a striking tan. He was slightly scruffy in a oh-so-manly way, and his hair was his pride and joy. He had at some point in his crazed early teen years, gained a rather scary scull tattoo on his shoulder (He was always a little hazy on the details of how he had acquired said tattoo). He was by far the most physically active of the group. He guessed he was just a normal type guy... Well, maybe a bit more rough and tumble, but besides that...
Lock hissed angrily, crumpling his plans into a ball and dumping them into the trash flowing over bin beside his desk.
Barrel shifted uncomfortably from his perch on the edge of Lock's bed. Lock had done that a few times already. " Hey, are those plans really hard? "
Suddenly Lock spun his chair, glowering at him. " What do you think dummy? " He had bags under his eyes and his cheeks were flush.
" I think you're tired Lock. "
The glare deepened. " Yeah, what's it to ya? "
Barrel rolled his eyes, got up, and turned Lock's chair back around. Lock growled. " What do you think you're do- ooh... " Barrel massaged the devil's shoulders softly.
" Does that feel good? " Barrel tried to contain the uncertain huskiness in his voice.
" Ugh, Barrel...don't stop...Ooh. " Lock seemed to melt beneath Barrel's deft hands.
After a while Lock was lying back in his chair, snoring softly.
The skeleton boy looked proudly down at his work, before draping a blanket over Lock's sleeping form, and kissing his cheek softly. He tip-toed across the room and closed the door quietly behind him.
With his eyes still closed, Lock's hand raised, fingertips brushing where he had been kissed, smiling. " Barrel you dummy...Heh. "