CHAPTER 4: REUNIONS
"So this ams L.A.?" Toki inquired as Pickles lead him up the stairs of some shabby apartment complex. The redhead nodded anxiously and urged him to keep up pace. He spared on time in climbing up the stairs, though this wasn't actually the apartment that he'd lived in before going to the Mordhaus. It was his old band mate's. He hadn't seen Tony in a few weeks, but they'd always usually managed to get together once in a while and drink. Although Pickles wasn't sure if the other man would be up to it, he planned to crash for a few months at his apartment, at least until he could make enough money to pay for his own place again.
They reached the door and Pickles knocked once before entering. "Hey, Tony, I'm home."
A man greeted them, one who wore a tattered leather vest and a top hat. He arched a brow when he saw the two men standing there in his doorway. "Uh...hey, bro. What's up? I didn't know you were gonna come over tonight." he said, closing and locking the door behind him. He gave Toki a quick study and added in a sort of sinfully welcoming voice, "You should've told me that you'd be bringing company." just the way he let the word slip past his lips made Pickles reach protectively for the Norwegian's hand.
"We need a place to crash for a few." he said, going over to the fridge. He dug himself out a bottle of of half empty, cheap booze and took a sip from it before passing it to Toki. Tony watched them with suspicion in his dark, shining eyes.
"Uh-huh," he said, crossing his arms over his chest, "a few—like what, a few months or weeks or-"
"Just a few, dude." he answered nudging Toki in the direction of the living room area. Well, it couldn't really be called a living room, per say. The whole apartment itself only consisted of a few rooms—the kitchen and the t.v. area, which housed a small, sagging loveseat. The only other rooms were the bathroom and what Tony had designated as his 'Private Room', or the only bedroom in the place. Sure, one could always throw a few pillows down onto the floor and sleep there, but the Private Room had a nice, soft, huge bed and a door that actually locked; the bathroom door barley closed.
"Sit here for a while, 'kay baby?" Pickles murmured to Toki before making his way back into the kitchen to talk with the other man. Tony was glaring at him.
"What's the big idea, man? You just barge in here at eleven at night and expect me to-"
"Look, dude, I'm sorry, but it's just 'dat me and the kid just came back from a trip, and I was so far behind an rent for my old place that-"
Tony sighed and nodded understandingly. "Okay, okay, I get it. You fell back on rent like always and you need a place to stay for the next few weeks, right?"
"I'll pay my share, and Toki's too."
"You'd better." he warned, glancing over at the Norwegian, who was busy flipping thru static t.v. channels lazily. "Don't make me regret this."
"I won't." he swore.
Tony just pulled him into a hug and whispered to him, "This is good—I've been worried about you being on your own lately...you haven't been right in the head. I guess it's stupid, but I was really starting to think you would hurt yourself."
"Wasn't so stupid," Pickles disagreed, pulling away.
The other man just stared into his face for a while, studied him carefully. That was one of the things that the redhead hated about Tony—he was quiet most of the time, but inhumanly observant. He could tell the woes and sorrows of a stranger just by taking a quick study of them. It unnerved him, but all the same he really did love Tony. They'd been best friends for the longest time.
"Fine," he said at last, motioning over to the living room area—the loveseat which Toki was already occupying, and the small t.v. "make yourselves at home. Pickles, you can sleep on the floor, and the other guy-"
"Toki."
"-yeah, whatever. He can take the loveseat if you wa-"
"Nah, I think we'll work somethin' out. You just go to bed already." Pickles interrupted, making his way over to Toki. He knelt down behind him and delicately pulled some of the younger man's hair back behind his shoulders, just so he could better see his face. "Baby," he whispered, "are you tired?"
In fact, the Norwegian was hanging onto his current state of awareness by a single, nearly spent thread. He nodded and answered drearily, "Ja, sleeps please."
"Okay, lemme fix it."
Pickles went over and retrieved the pillows and cushions from the loveseat. He placed them in front of the T.V. and then piled a few blankets on top. Toki eagerly climbed into the makeshift bed and the redhead did the same. Neither of them realized that Tony was still watching, his arms crossed, his eyes shining brightly. Pickles laid down next to the Norwegian and put a blanket over the both of them. He draped an arm gently over Toki's shoulders and pulled him closer; the younger man let out a tired, content sigh and snuggled close to him. Pickles blushed and kissed his forehead. "G'night, dude."
"Hmm." he said, already half asleep. Slowly the redhead caressed him, let his hands work around his shoulders, to his chest, and then down to his back. He held him impossibly close until finally he felt himself being watched. He glanced back over to where Tony was still standing and his green eyes grew wide. He hadn't meant to be so obvious about it...
"Oh, now I get it." Tony said, smiling a little. He made his way over to the door of the Private Room and chuckled under his breath, "Cute, Pickles, he's real cute; I'm glad you're with someone who you actually care about, finally."
: :: :: ::: : ::: : :: :: :
Late the following evening Toki finally awoke alone in the messy pile of pillows and blankets. He rubbed the remaining sleep from his eyes, stretched, and looked around the small apartment. He didn't remember where he was or how he'd gotten there, only that the night before Pickles had been with him, had kept him warm and whispered comforting things to him during his sleep. He'd told him stories of how they'd get out of this shabby place, move to some rich neighborhood like Beverly Hills, and be content forever. He'd told him that he'd give him anything that he wanted, and that he'd go to any lengths to ensure his happiness...Toki blinked in a confused way and frowned in thought. If Pickles had been here last night, then that must mean that this place was good. It must mean that he was safe here, even though currently his love was nowhere to be seen.
"Hey, finally awake?"
Toki jumped and let out a startled gasp. He whirled around and was surprised to see a rather slender man standing behind him, not at all like Pickles. He had dark, shoulder-length hair that was greasily tucked underneath a worn top hat. The only thing covering his torso was a leather vest. Something inside of his mind clicked; hadn't he seen this man before on T.V., during the resurrection of Snakes 'n Barrels all those years ago? Wasn't he one of Pickles' best friends?
"You want something to eat?" Tony asked gently, holding out a plate of toast. Toki took it gratefully and began eating. Meanwhile the dark-haired man took a seat on the couch and stretched out; he began flipping thru channels on the television as he watched the Norwegian eat. "Pickles went out." he finally said.
"Wheres?"
"T'work."
This struck him completely off guard. He glanced over his shoulder at Tony and asked curiously, "Pickle has a jobs? I didn't know that."
Toki just smiled a little to himself and answered evasively, "Yeah, I guess you could call it that—a job."
"If it's not a job them what ams it?" when no answer came, Toki slowly put down the plate and reached up. He tugged roughly at Tony's vest in an attempt to get his attention. "Well, what does he dos that ams such a big secret?"
"What else?" he asked lazily, giving the younger man a sort of knowing smile. "He deals."
"Oh..." a pause, then, "He deals whats, exactlys?"
He gave the younger man an amused look and then peered back over to the t.v. After a minute or two he responded coolly, "Drugs—crack, meth, anything he can get his hands on. He deals for a few hours every night, makes enough money to pay for his share—plus you, now—and then comes back home and crashes for the whole day." then he gave Toki a sort of sad smile and added, "Didn't he tell you, kid? Seems like he really likes you. Maybe he was afraid that you'd-"
"But if he ams doing that, he'll gets hurt!" was all the Norwegian could say. Tony gave him a confused look and laughed a little. It was an out-of-place sound, one that was unexpected, and so Toki turned to him and asked sharply, "What ams you laughing for? You think this ams funny or something?"
"No, it's just that...well, all you care about is him getting hurt? What about the money he brings home, or-"
"Nos way! Oh Gods-" he was terrified now. What if he lost Pickles? Where would he go, how would he be able to live? He wouldn't, he couldn't...Toki paled and rose to his feet, ignoring Tony's probing gaze. It seemed as though the other man was constantly, silently demanding more—more answers, more questions, more everything. This confused the Norwegian even more, made him feel oddly uncomfortable in the other man's presence. He glanced over his shoulder at Tony, who was staring at him with a kind of quiet, mild intensity. "What time ams it?"
"Eleven at night. You've been sleeping a lot." he answered simply, an odd smile on his face. "C'mon, kid, it won't do any good for you to go running away for Pickles in the middle of the night, not knowing where you are. Just c'mere and watch some t.v. with me, okay?" he motioned to the small, torn couch and said coaxingly, as if he were trying to attract the attention of a cat or dog, "C'mon, c'mere. It'll be fine, you'll see. He'll come back in a few hours and you won't have to worry no more."
"H-Hows ams you just sos okay with this?" Toki demanded, narrowing his eyes at Tony.
"Okay with what?"
"He coulds be out there getting shot or-"
He chuckled and said under his breath, "Not likely. More likely that he's stuck in some sleazy back-alley getting so stoned that he can't stand up straight."
"Whats?"
"C'mon, you must've known that he did drugs when you got with him."
Toki reddened and nodded. "Ja, buts I didn't know that it was likes this."
"I get it, trust me I do, but there isn't anything we can do to help him right now." Tony said soothingly, turning his attention back towards the t.v. "We can just wait and mind our own business, now c'mon and siddown. We'll watch something good, like a movie." when Toki complied, he smiled a little and passed him a cigarette, a lighter, and an old, nearly empty bottle of booze.
The Norwegian, not really realizing what he was doing, devoured the booze and smoked four cigarettes before finally calming down. So Pickles went out nearly every night to sell drugs, just to earn enough money to get by? What kind of life was that? Of course Toki felt partially responsible—after all, he was nothing but another mouth to feed. Still, his desire to protect the redhead was an impossibly strong one. What would he do with himself during these late hours of the night, waiting for his love to return home? Then he glanced over at Tony, noticed the other man was carefully observing him, and quickly shifted his gaze back down to the floor.
"Don'ts stare at me." he said coolly.
"Why not? I'm not hurting you, am I?"
"Nos, but-"
"Get used to it, kid. Get used to me, 'cause we're gonna be spending a lotta time together." Tony cut in, lighting himself the last cigarette. His thin, starving frame was sprawled out on his half of the couch lazily. Clearly he wasn't inclined to be shy around new people. Toki began to dislike him.
"You ams from Pickle old band?"
"Yep." he answered, letting out a smoky breath.
"Ands you've known him for yours whole life?"
"Practically."
"So you two ams like best friends?"
"More'n that."
"Ohs." Toki stopped talking then. Just the manner in which the other man answered him—so confidently and unwaveringly, as if he knew a whole world more than Toki—unnerved him, and so he lapsed into a lulling silence. At last Tony broke the silence.
As he pressed the cigarette to his lips and inhaled, he said quietly, "Brothers."
The Norwegian arched a brow and glanced over at him cluelessly. "Huhs?"
"Brothers," Tony repeated, fingering his top hat lovingly, "we're like brothers."
"Oh, okays, then." still, the jealously stabbed at his heart, threatening to infect it fully, but with these carefully chose words he was able to stifle it somewhat. "So you loves him, too?" Buts never more than I do...
The dark-haired man snickered softly and slowly turned to face Toki. He had a soft, almost gentle smile on his pale face as he inquired, "What if I do?" when the Norwegian said nothing, he rolled his eyes and said, "Yeah, as a matter of fact I do—like a brother."
"Oh." Toki said, "okays."
Two hours of silence followed. Finally the hostility and bitter feelings between them began to melt away when a classic horror movie came onto the television screen—Nosferatu. As the black and white, pretty, old-time figures of actors and actresses moved across the screen, Tony began to laugh. Toki did as well. "You like this kinda shit, kid?" Tony asked as he scratched his bare stomach.
"Jas, a lots. Me and Pickle used to watch this kinds of stuff all the times back at the Mordhaus." he smiled thoughtfully.
"The first time he saw the Exorcist, he pissed his pants." the other man said in a serious tone. Toki laughed a this and he added, "God, he was embarrassed—he tried to play it off, but...fuck, that was funny. His face...what a damn idiot..."
They both began laughing hysterically, and for the next several hours they talked about years ago, back when they'd been famous, back when they're names had actually meant something. Back when they'd owned the whole world.
: :: :: ::: : ::: : :: :: :
Eventually Pickles came home. He entered the apartment, threw off his shirt and slipped out of his sneakers and socks—he looked exhausted, totally spent, and he stank like hell. The scent, Toki recognized, was that of smoke, booze, sex and sweat. Immediately he rose up from his seat and went to help the redhead; Pickles rejected his touch and fell on the floor, on top of the mattress of pillows and blankets that he'd made himself earlier. Tony didn't even give him a second glance. He just turned down the volume on the television and asked, "Good night?"
"Pocket." he answered, exhausted.
"Right, okay." Tony glanced over at Toki and instructed almost harshly, "You—in his left back pocket there'll be a few thousand dollars in cash. Put it on the counter."
"Okays." he raced to do as he'd been told, but Pickles reached out and caught his pants leg.
He pulled Toki down onto the floor and instructed, "Kiss me."
Without question, the Norwegian got down on his hands and knees and allowed the redhead to pull him into a lustful, hot kiss. He wanted to gag—the other man's breath tasted like the worst thing in the world. He couldn't even think of what the taste was, all he knew was that it was disgusting. He still bared the disgust until Pickles was done. Once the kiss was ended, he hurried to do as Tony had told him. Still he could hear Pickles talking drowsily on the floor.
"You—asshole, don't ever talk to Toki like 'dat, got it? He ain't your slave."
Tony hesitated before saying mildly, "Shut up; you're high."
"Bitch."
"Asshole."
Once Toki had managed to dig the money out of the pocket of Pickles' pants, he put it on the counter then went and retreated back to the t.v. area. He went to sit back on the couch, but again he was stopped. "Here, with me, baby." the redhead said, his voice slightly slurred as he scooted over on the floor. The Norwegian gave into his request and laid down next to him. "Lemme touch you." he whispered in Toki's ear as he hugged him close. Tony just rolled his eyes and threw a blanket on the top of the two lovers.
"Either haul your asses up and use the Private Room, or cover it."
"Uh...shut up. I gatta hellva headache." Pickles slurred, nipping at Toki's ear. "Love you..."
"Uh-huh." he nodded, swallowed, and felt sick with himself. Although he'd waited hours for Pickles to get home and give him this kind of attention, a part of him said that it was disgusting and wrong. After all, he wasn't even sure if the redhead was fully there, which he most likely wasn't. He didn't know exactly why he his heart was beating so sickeningly, but it was, and when Pickles' hands traveled lower, down to the zipper of his jeans and hovered there, he tried to squirm away.
"I want you..."
"Pickle, please nots now."
"...wanna fuck you."
"You ams high right now; I don't wants it."
He shook himself, tried to get a grip on his desires, but found himself unable to. "You're so fuckin' sexy...I...I..." he was too tired to continue putting sentences together, so he simply hugged the Norwegian closer to him and began breathing deeply. Toki finally relaxed.
"I loves you, Pickle. I'ms glad you're okay."
"Mmm." he mumbled, burying his face in Toki's hair. "Love you too," he worked up the energy to say in a nearly inaudible voice, weak with exhaustion, "so much...love you...you're so..."
"I'ms what, Pickle?" he asked, squeezing the redhead's hand gently.
"Warm." he had nearly fallen asleep by now, and although the eyes and ears of Tony were on him carefully, he didn't stop himself from saying, "Toki, don't go nowhere."
"I won'ts ever gos nowhere, Pickle, not unless you wants me to."
"N-no...don't...stay here w'me." he held Toki closer to him in a protective way.
"You knows I'll stay with you forevers."
"Good, 'cause I...I..." his voice failed him for a moment and he fell into a doze. In his light sleep he managed to finally get out the words, "I love y'too much to let y'go."
: :: :: ::: : ::: : :: :: :
"Wake up, you lazy queers." Tony announced as he slammed a couple of cups of coffee down on the floor next to Pickles and Toki. The redhead opened his eyes first, then shook Toki awake lightly.
"Wake up, baby. Time t'wake up." although he was still hugging the Norwegian close to him, he didn't hesitate to reach out and grab himself a steaming cup. He blew on it for a long moment, then swallowed a few large sips before taking Toki's cup and pressing it into his hands. "C'man, get up."
He opened his pale eyes and saw that there was not only coffee, but a small array of food beside their cozy sleeping spot. Tony stood above them, a small, knowing smile on his face. He stared Toki dead in the eye and asked, "Sleep good, angel?"
"I—whats?" he just asked cluelessly, grabbing a Pop Tart. He ate it quickly, but not before Pickles leaned in and kissed his cheek.
"Hey," the redhead snapped at Tony, "watch your Gad damn mouth around him." There was a distinct air of jealously in his voice; he slipped an arm around Toki's waist and pulled him close, so that they were sitting up shoulder-to-shoulder.
"I was only kidding, fuckface." Tony retaliated, going back over into the kitchen. He began counting the bundle of money that was on the counter to himself. When he was done he turned to the other two men and said with a grin on his face, "Wow, nice job last night. You made enough for the rent and-"
"For somethin' for Toki." he said, running a careful hand thru the Norwegian's long, brown hair. "Somethin' nice for him to wear..."
"No fuckin' way." Tony said, firmly shaking his head. "We need to buy food and gas and and a whole bunch of important stuff."
"He is important, you douchebag!" he said in retaliation.
"I don't need anything anyways, Pickle." the Norwegian said, shaking his head and pulling the covers up a little more to cover himself. He was freezing, for some reason. "I don't wants anything."
"Don't care, you're getting' somethin' anyways for putting up with me last night." he turned his attention to Tony and asked, "How bad was I last night? Totally fucked up, or—"
"Not half as bad as I expected you to be." he answered, placing the money back on the counter. "You practically raped the kid, though."
"I—oh Gad, did I really try t'fuck him?"
"Nos you didn't, you just-"
"Yeah, nearly pulled out his dick and-"
"Shuts up! It wasn't even his fault!" Toki interrupted, clearly embarrassed at last night's memories. He sipped on his steaming cup of coffee and said confidently to Pickles, "It ams fine, nothing bad really happened, anyways."
This didn't convenience him, though. He sighed deeply, his eyes full of concern. " 'Dat's bullshit and you know it. I'm sorry."
"It ams okay! You were just a littles..."
"Totally fucking stoned."
"Ands maybe a littles..."
"Wasted outta your freaking mind." Tony completed, pouring himself a cup of coffee. He didn't bother to pour cream or sugar into it—he just dug out a bottle of vodka from a cabinet and dumped a good bit of it into the steaming cup.
Pickles let his head fall against Toki's shoulder. He gave the Norwegian a pitiful, sorrowful look and timidly whispered, "I'm so sorry."
The younger man, remembering how horrible he'd felt the night before, tried to forgive him, but found that he wasn't quite able to. He just looked away and shrugged Pickles off. "If it ever happens again I don't know whats I'll do." he warned. "I don't wants to be pushed into anything. I've tolds you that before."
"I'm s-"
"I heard you." he said coolly, drinking some more coffee. "Nows do you hear me?"
Pickles nodded and sat up straight. He said, totally ashamed, "Yeah, I hear you, dude." They lapsed into a heavy silence, one which could only be broken by the welcome presence of Tony.
The old singer put down his cup of coffee and vodka, went over to them, and announced, "Well, we do have good news—we're pretty much set for rent money this month."
"And the bad news?" Pickles asked, knowing there was some hidden catastrophe behind it all. Tony glanced over at him and gave him a sort of awkward half-smile.
"Dude, you tried to rape your boyfriend. Isn't that enough bad news for one day?"
His face reddened in anger and he jumped up, threw his hot cup of coffee at the wall, and stormed out of the apartment. Toki stared after him, a concerned look on his young, fair face. "Whats just happened? Where ams he going? Wh-"
"He'll be back." Tony promised, throwing himself down lazily onto the couch. It squeaked violently, but he ignored it and switched on the t.v. Toki just watched him with a clueless look.
"I don'ts...does he do that a lot?"
He chuckled and nodded. "Yeah, all the time. It's 'cause'a all the drugs he's always pumping into his damn body...makes you get really defensive and paranoid. Sometimes he even gets, y'know, violent."
Toki swallowed nervously. "Ja, buts he wouldn't actually hurt us, rights?" when nothing was said to him, he clarified, "Nots me? Pickle wouldn't actually hurts me, would he?"
Finally Tony confessed, "There's no telling what he'd do, man." then he gave the Norwegian a sorrowful look and added, "I'm sorry—so sorry—that you have to deal with him like this, but don't worry. If he ever comes at you, I'll protect you."
"Ohs," he said, looking down quickly, trying to hide the tears of pain that were reflecting in his clear, crystal eyes. "okays."
: :: :: ::: : ::: : :: :: :
Pickles stayed out for the rest of the day, but in that time Toki and Tony were able to prepare a halfway decent dinner for his return. By the time he came back, he was totally—almost strangely—placid, and his emerald green eyes hinted at no trace of his former rage. Instead of wasting his energy with anger, he just went over to Toki, pulled him into his arms, and kissed him deeply.
"We're gonna get outta here," he swore, playing with some of the Norwegian's long hair, "I was lookin' for places today—they're expensive, Gad everything is so fuckin' expensive, but we can make it an our own, I think."
Toki, still fearful that Pickles would relapse and begin throwing coffee cups all over again, just motioned over to the kitchen area and said charmingly, "We mades you supper."
"You did? Thanks."
And so they all went and sat down in front of the t.v. together. Tony gladly let the two lovers have the couch; he elected to sit down on the floor. Once they were done eating, he announced, "Hey, I got an idea—Pickles, remember when we used to have those movie nights that you liked so much?"
The redhead rolled his eyes and said, "Yeah, s'what, dude?"
"We should have one tonight—just you, me, and the Kid." Tony had taken quite a liking to referring to Toki as 'Kid', mostly because of the reaction he got from it. Like now, how the Norwegian jumped out of Pickles arms, got on the floor, and tried to smother him with a pillow.
"Stops calling me kid! I'ms no fucking kid! I'ms an adult! I-"
"Yeah, don't call my girl a kid." Pickles teased, snatching the pillow away from the fuming Norwegian. He gave him a sneaky smile and added, "Trust me, he ain't no kid."
"Ugh, gross gay shit." Tony groaned before rising up and making his way over to the DVD player. He pulled out a stack of old, mostly black and white movies and asserted, "We're gonna let the Kid pick."
Toki rolled his eyes. "I don'ts care what we watch, just stops calling me k-"
"I wanna watch Frankenstein." Pickles piped up, taking a seat on the floor next to the Norwegian. Tony inserted the DVD into the player, grabbed the remote, then jumped onto the couch. They were all deathly silent as the beginning credits flashed across the screen. Within half an hour of the old movie Toki was quickly losing focus. He laid down on the floor, snuggled under a blanket, and used Pickles' shoulder for a pillow. The redhead just smiled down at him.
"What, you getting bored already?" once again, they talked without realizing that Tony was listening in on their conversation. Toki just shook his head.
"Nos."
He frowned a little and scooted closer to the younger man. "You okay? You're actin' kinda..."
"Whats?"
"I dunno..." only one word came to his brain then. It seemed impossible, but still he said it anyway. "Scared."
Toki just paled in the light that came from the t.v. All was silent as he repeated, "Nos." then a small silence elapsed. Finally he worked up the courage to ask, his voice but a mere whisper in the redhead's ear, "Pickle, cans I ask you something?"
"Yeah." he said, still watching the black and white movie. "Anything, dude."
"Woulds you...I don'ts know...Pickle, woulds you ever hurt me?"
Pickles felt something inside of him become heavy—was it guilt weighing down his heart?-and shook his head. "No, course I wouldn't. I'd die before I'd do 'dat, Toki. Don't you know that?" when he got no response, he met the other man's intense gaze and inquired painfully, "D'you think that I'd ever hurt you?"
"Ja—I means no...I means, ja, I know that you'd nevers do nothing like that, it's just that..."
"What?"
"I..." Toki sighed heavily and closed his eyes, tried to clear his mind. "I can't explains it, but sometimes you scare me."
Pickles felt as though he was about to cry as he slipped an arm around the Norwegian's waist. He pulled him closer, held him to his chest, and reached out to place the covers a bit more over the other man, so that he wouldn't get cold. "I'm sorry," was all he could say, "I'd never do anything to hurt you, nat on purpose." then, without warning, a few tears slipped down his cheeks. Toki became alarmed by this and tried to wipe them away, but Pickles shrank away from his touch. He couldn't stand it, even the mere thought that he scared the other man tore him apart. "Do I really scare you?"
"Nos," he said, shaking his head. "it was just a question, a stupids, dumb question. I'm sorry I asked it."
" 'Cause you know that I love you, right?"
"Ja, of course I knows that."
"And I'd never hurt you?"
"Uh-huh."
"Okay, good, 'cause I can't have you thinkin' for one second that I'd do anything to fuck you up." Pickles said, gently pressing a hand to Toki's cheek. "I'd rather die."
