Bloodshot Bright Spark
After an entire day of pranking Mordhaus, Pickles and Toki share a moment together.
Pickles and Toki slash...ish. Rated T for alcohol, and language. Also because of the fact it's Dethklok. It's been a while since I uploaded something for you all, and I decided to give you all a little Metalocalypse fic. I think I've improved a lot, so here you are…
It was a slow morning at Mordhaus. The sun rose over the clouds, casting over the brass windows, illuminating them as it did every morning. It shone through Toki Wartooth's window, lighting up the angelic Norwegian skin, a brilliant white underneath the warm, golden glow. His hair shone brightly, and his eyes opened sleepily. A brand new day, and Toki was happy. He was always happy in the mornings. Nothing could ever bring him down. The silence was welcoming, as if the morning was smiling at him without words. He lay in bed for a few moments, taking everything in, the warmth of his own body was comforting underneath the sheets. He threw them off his body, sat at the edge of bed, stretched, and decided to get ready for the day.
As he was pulling his jeans up and doing the belt, he heard a knock at the door, and before he could answer it, Pickles stumbled in, holding an empty bottle of Tequila Sunrise. Fiery, ginger Pickles, red all over. Red face, red rings underneath bright green eyes, red dreadlocks, red lips. Toki blinked, and then brightly smiled. Pickles just blinked back, as if trying to engage a blinking war with someone, but then he stumbled against the door, jerking his fists as if to try and remember something desperately urgent.
"Tokeeeee..." Pickles grunted, grinning widely. "Good mawnin..."
"Hiyas, Pickle," Toki grinned. "Yous up so earlies! Isn't todays your sleep-ins?"
"No, 'cus tha thing is," Pickles began, placing a hand to his chin and stroking it in an exaggerated fashion. "Toki, come spy on Murdaface with me."
Before Toki could respond, the drummer began to giggle in a schoolboy fashion and dragged him from the room, literally, down the hallway. Toki began to laugh with him and the two ended up staring through the large keyhole that lead to Murderface's room. Pickles leant up against it, obviously intoxicated on alcohol, adrenalin, and excitement. Toki leant up beside him, not surprised that the drummer didn't shove him away. They chuckled at each other at Murderface's conversation on the Dethphone.
"...yeah, scho, Dick, Planet Pisch will be scho awshome..."
"Ach, he's jest goin' on about Planet Piss," Pickles chuckled quietly. "Toki, 'ey, 'ey, can you go inta my room an'...I gat such a good idea fer playin' a prank on Murdaface....if ye go inta da kitchen, there is yella food colourin'. Why don'tcha, like...get a bucket...o' wahter, and then put the colourin' in it, and then, we can like, throw it ovah Murdaface! He'll go skits! He'll think it's piss!"
Toki nodded obediently, and followed Pickles's orders. He took a bucket out from under a cupboard once he reached the kitchen, which was only next door to Murderface's room. He giggled while he was carrying out the bucket, pouring the entire contents of yellow food colouring into the water, the water sloshing onto the ground. Pickles giggled even more, both of them like schoolboys, until Pickles cleared his throat and knocked on the door.
"...aw, for fucksch schake. Schomeone here thisch early?"
"One, two, three, THROW!"
With surprisingly perfect timing, just as Murderface opened the door, Pickles and Toki, holding each side of the bucket, threw it at the bassist. Most of the water missed him, but a good amount landed in his face. The drummer and rhythm guitarist ran off to the living room, laughing loudly, their sound echoing through Mordhaus, and they didn't care. Pickles was on the sofa, holding his stomach and laughing. Toki was standing up, leaning backwards, hooting with laughter. Once their sounds stopped, Pickles wiped an eye and looked at the rhythm guitarist.
"That wis fun, Toki!" Pickles grinned. "You really 'er a lat more fun to hang out with than dose guys."
Toki smiled, happy to finally earn more respect from Pickles. The drummer and the rhythm guitarist definitely got on well, but they had never spent a morning together doing such devious deeds. Pickles always had a bit of a soft spot for Toki, even if admitting it made him gay. Toki had always looked up to the drummer, always admiring his drumming skills. And he could never resist looking at Pickles' amazing, captivating green eyes.
"You, eh, y'know, we should, like, spend the whole day pullin' pranks on everyone. I don't think I evah done dat before. Mordhaus is gunna be in da palm of our hand. Wanna hang out with me?"
"Oh, yes, lets dos that!"
Pickles couldn't do anything but slap Toki a high five. Today was definitely going to be eventful, and in the very, very least - it was going to be hilarious. The gears and cogs in Pickles' mind were already at full speed ahead.
That afternoon, Pickles and Toki surprised an "un-pranked" member of the band. This member consisted of long, flowing black hair that swished greatly over his shoulders. His name was Nathan Explosion and by the looks of the prank, he probably would have blown up the whole of Mordhaus in frustration.
"Aw'right, then, Toki," Pickles whispered. The two were hiding in the main room, in a small alcove. Nathan was busying himself talking to Skwisgaar about whatever they would usually talk about - usually how brutal something was - or watching a video on open heart surgery.
"Whats are we goings to do?"
"We're gunna make Nathan go to bed, and I mean dat pretty literally," Pickles giggled. "What we do, is I sneak inta his room. I learnt this trick on da Internet, so you cen fold a dood's bed so they can't even gat inta it! So, I'll do dat, and you distract him, and Toki, you gatta outsmart him, so he decides to go take a lie down. Y'know what I'm sayin'?"
"Ohhh," Toki pondered, scratching his smooth chin with a rough finger. "That makes senses, Pickle. Go, goes, I'll distracts him!"
With impeccable timing, Pickles escaped the room just as Nathan entered, and the drummer pretended to enter his own so Nathan wouldn't ask questions. Entrance to the Explosion lair was Strictly Forbidden. Pickles peeked his head round the door, coast clear, and darted into Nathan's large, demonic room.
He ignored the loud, death metal blasting from the speakers as he took the top sheet from the bed and lay it loosely over the fitted bottom one. He tucked the top half under the mattress, and could not stop his schoolboy giggles as he did so. So immature of himself and Toki, but he could not resist the hilarity. He folded the bottom half up to look like a normal top sheet so Nathan could fit into the "pocket". Pickles camouflaged his handiwork by making up the bed as usual. When the unsuspecting slumbered would try to go to bed, he would only be able to fit halfway.
He quickly walked out of the room, hands covering his mouth to mask his laughter, and stood behind the living room door to hear what Toki was saying to Nathan. From his back pocket, he pulled out worn drumsticks and began to beat against the wall.
"Nathan, I has a questions."
"Huh? What? Oh, go ahead, ask away."
"What's the square roots of nines?"
"Uhh…I don't know."
"But it's maths, you shoulds knows…Pickle always says that drums is maths. Don't you remembers in our Birthday Dethday song, where the drums are alls like, dun dun dun dun duuuuh dun dun duuuuuh? That is maths, Nathans…"
"The square root of nine…the fuck is a square root?"
"What times whats makes nines!"
"Oh. Six and three? I don't know."
"It's three and three. Three times threes is--"
"I'm gonna…just. I don't get math. I'm just gonna…take a lie down. This is too, uh, overwhelming."
Pickles muttered a simple word in success, ready to slap Toki a high five if his prank was an achievement. Nathan left the room and Pickles absently drummed against his knees, causing no reaction from the lead singer whatsoever. Toki followed, and once Nathan was out of sight, they grinned at each other.
Silence.
No words from Mordhaus, or any other member of Dethklok. Toki appeared to have stopped breathing in sheer excitement. They looked at Nathan's door, anticipating it, knowing it was going to happen. It had to happen.
And then, the most beautiful sound reached their ears.
"WHAT THE FUCK?!"
Pickles and Toki burst out laughing, holding their stomachs in hilarity, slapped a high five against rough hands and escaped to Pickles' room before Nathan attempted to murder them. Another prank under their belts, they only had one more person left to bug the shit out of.
Now, nobody was sure what happened that evening. After Nathan was over the fiasco with his doctored bed, the whole band were sitting in the hot tub. Skwisgaar had his ever-present Gibson Explorer with him, his fingers floating over the strings effortlessly. Pickles had his back to the band, pretending to be interested in his lighter, when in reality he was burning the bottom of a beer can, which created black soot.
"Guys!" Pickles announced. He had discussed this one with Toki after the Nathan scenario. "Let's play dis new game we thought up. It's called Pinchy Winchy."
"Sounds fucking brutal," Nathan shrugged.
"Sit in a circle."
Pickles made sure he was next to Skwisgaar, and rubbed the bottom of his can to transfer black soot onto four of his fingers, leaving one blank. Toki was trying not to giggle, but biting the inside of his cheeks helped. He couldn't believe Pickles' genius when it came to pranks.
"Right, okay," Pickles began. "The person who is Pinchy Winchy is, y'know 'it'. They have to use their hands to touch people's faces in the circle. And dose people have to close dere eyes. If the person bein', y'know, touched, starts laughin', then, they're Pinchy Winchy. Gat it?"
"Brutal."
"Schounds pointlesch if you ask me."
"Wells, Murderfaces, no one is askings you."
"So, who's gonna be, uh…Pinchy Winchy?"
"Me," Pickles grinned. Toki smiled from the other end of the circle. "Right, close yer eyes…closer yer fuckin' eyes, Murderface!"
The band obliged. Pickles rubbed his four blackened fingers even more from the can, set it aside, and got to work. He placed his blank finger on Nathan, Murderface, and Toki. But he used his other four on Skwisgaar, pleased that no one seemed to be showing signs of laughing, except for Toki.
"Uh, Pickles? Toki's, like, laughing. Isn't he 'it' now?"
"Toki always laughs at dis game, so I let him aff with it," Pickles commented, running a finger down Skwisgaar's face, pulling silly expressions at the guitarist. The Swede remained emotionless. He made sure to spend a lot of time on Skwisgaar, until Pickles rested his blank finger on Toki, who burst into peals of laughter.
Pickles withdrew his hand and placed it under water, rubbing the soot off. "Open your eyes!"
The band opened their eyes, and all rested on Skwisgaar. The guitarist blinked, playing his guitar absently, staring at the four other members. All of them were in shock, albeit Pickles and Toki, who were biting their cheeks and snorting in the attempt to not giggle.
"What? Whats are you starings at me for?"
It was only at that moment they noticed. Pickles had spelled out the word 'DILDO' on Skwisgaar's head, in simple dots that came from his fingers. It was almost illegible, but still recognisable. Murderface laughed loudly, Nathan simply chuckled, but Skwisgaar did not see the hilarity in anything. By the time he found the mirror, Pickles and Toki had already pulled their jeans and shirts on, making haste to Pickles' room and locking the door.
When Skwisgaar reached the door, black soot still all over his face, embedded into the pores, the only sound that could be heard was the sound of sheer, genuine laughter.
"Aw, Toki, that was so awesome today! You really made dat loads of fun," Pickles grinned, lying on his bed, arms draped behind his head. "Can't believe they just all fell for it! We gonna gat so much shit at breakfast tamorrow."
Toki was clapping his hands like a little child, which made Pickles laugh. The drummer didn't want to admit it, but Toki looked so very cute when he did that. He never talked about his family, or his past - ever. At least, not to the other members. But Toki could trust Pickles somewhat. He had told the drummer of what happened to him when he was a child, only under the influence of alcohol. Toki was not the get-up-and-dance drunk, which was what Pickles expected. But the drummer was surprised at how the Norwegian was more of a spill-my-heart-out drunk.
"Pickle, can we dos that agains? It was so fun! I love prankings them," Toki giggled. "I learns a lot about its from yous. Maybe that way, I cans be better at something than Skwisgaars is."
The normally uncaring, notoriously proud alcoholic Pickles looked up and saw sadness in Toki's eyes. Behind those Norwegian eyes, Pickles was sure he could see the pain of being second best. A screaming genius crying for help, to be the best at something that no Swede would take away. Pickles beckoned the young guitarist to sit next to him, and he threw an arm round his shoulder, pulling him to lean on his own.
"You are definitely better at prankin' them than Skwisgaar is," Pickles softly sighed into Toki's soft brown hair. "You better than him at a lat of things. You make people laugh, I ain't ever seen him makin' people laugh. And y'know, you actually care, which is a lat bettah than he cen do."
Toki now knew why he had admired the drummer so. He was passionate. And he had seen that passion in everything he did. The worn, black drumsticks, with fingerprints and sweat on them, didn't need to be bashing the drums or beating someone over the head. His words did it for him. In those green, bloodshot eyes that were just so endearing. So alluring. So fucking crazy and so Pickles. Toki liked green eyes just because of the drummer. They were so warm and welcoming, to him.
As Pickles looked at the rhythm guitarist for confirmation to his words, Toki took his chance. He had admired the drummer from afar, in a friendly way, in any kind of damn way, and now he had to show it. In silence, his gratitude for an eventful day, he swiftly placed his hand on Pickles' neck and pulled him in, locking his lips with the drummer's, surprised at how soft and warm they were. His hot, alcohol-tainted breath seemed to intoxicate Toki, hypnotize him. Neither of them knew what they were doing until Pickles pulled away slowly. Not firmly. Gently.
"Toki…" the drummer whispered. "Uh…know what? That cen be our li'l secret."
"Yous a good kisser," Toki giggled, not moving away. Those eyes. That face. Those lips that he had managed to feel with his own. That passion. For a few moments had he felt that passion. Pickles had responded. His arm tight around the rhythm guitarist, until their minds caught up with them.
"But a kiss is like…emotional."
"You can'ts be brutals all the times, Pickle."
"S'pose nawt."
The musicians eyed the clock on Pickles' wall, and the redhead looked at the Norwegian, licking his lips ever so slightly. Toki giggled. Pickles had always loved to play pranks, that was one thing he had learnt today. He didn't want the alcohol taste out of his mouth, and it was slowly disappearing.
"You should get ta bed, ya little dood," Pickles laughed. "An' no more kissin' round the band! I told ya, it's gunna be our secret. Deal?"
"Deals," Toki grinned, nodding in obedience. "Well, goodnights, Pickle!"
The rhythm guitarist darted out of the door before the drummer could even respond. It had been a amusing morning, a comical afternoon, and a hilarious evening. But the night, just before bedtime, had been Pickles' favourite. He would never admit it, but Toki had been a good kisser, too. Better than any girl he had ever been with. Pulling off his jeans and black vest, throwing them to the floor, he climbed into bed with a smile on his face, and Toki's love on his lips. The rare, raw passion that they both shared, not in their instruments, but in themselves, each other. Pickles would make sure to not pull any pranks on Toki, not when his rhythm guitarist was so willing. Not when they had shared a special, albeit different, moment together.
Breakfast was going to be fun tomorrow - once he put black food colouring into the milk.