Breaking Lamps II

Author: LuciferxDamien
Rating: PG-13
Pairing: Nathan/Charles
Genre: Romance/Humor
Summary: Set shortly after Snakes 'N Barrels II. Nathan is bothered by something that happened that fateful night in L.A.
Disclaimer: I still don't own.
Warnings: Sweet blow-jobby metal. Lamp death.
Fandom: Metalocalypse

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"Hrrrh…" Nathan sighed again, staring up at the canopy of his four-poster bed. They'd been back from crashing the Snakes 'N Barrels lame-ass sober turned violent weird-ass concert for a week now. But it wasn't the brutal beating Toki gave that annoying dickweed or all the weird blue snakes flying around that had him so discombobulated. Wait, was that even a real word? Gah! Whatever.

No, what had him so out of sorts was what Pickles said while he was giving them a tour through L.A.

"And this is where I saw Franky Switchblade of the band Super Destroy Fuck Machine blowing a guy. Right there, I'm not joking…And that guy was me."

At the time, Nathan was freaked out. But not because he was like disgusted or anything. It was actually because he'd had uh…similar thoughts about one Charles Foster Ofdensen.

And sure, Pickles said he was joking after, but the thoughts still stuck. Nathan rolled over onto his side, letting out another long sigh.

And he still wanted to know what it would be like to see his manager on his knees, watching his hard cock pass through those lips that always seemed to be drawn thin in frustration. He wondered what those lips would look like when Charles wasn't increasingly annoyed with his and the rest of the band's ADD antics.

Fuck!

Nathan grabbed a pillow and screamed into it. He was driving himself insane and giving himself a hard-on in the process.

Then came the question he had been dreading: Did this make him totally gay? Wanting another guy…well, not just any guy, but his MANAGER, to blow him?

Which was quickly followed by a second question: Did he even care at this point?

No, not really.

Nathan hurled the pillow across the room and got up, hair falling in his face as he sat on the edge of the bed, trying to get his erection to go down enough to walk to his manager's office. Though he had no idea what he was going to do or…say when he got there.

Fuck that shit. He'd figure it out later.

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A/N: It's about fucking time I got a random Metalocalypse fanfic idea instead of all the billions Superman/Batman ideas I always get…usually involving strip clubs and Superman cross dressing. Or Superman making out with every part of Batman's body. Or uhhh…awkward sleeping situations on a cruise ship. Okay, so that one actually happened in the comics, but W/E I can write the sex in there that they can't show us. Stupid comics code.