CHAPTER 4: APOLOGIES

He laid there staring up at the ceiling, his green eyes devoid of any emotion whatsoever. Waiting...waiting...waiting...

He was dead, he had been thru enough already, and it was only the second day of this torture. That morning seemed like a nightmare as he waited. Sleep hadn't found him that night, it had evaded his grasp and left him too tired to even move. His body ached and occasionally he would run his fingers up under his shirt, feel bare skin, find the place where the bruise Toki had given him was located. Still, as the room changed from midnight to an early morning gray, he waited. He listened to the steady, unwavering breathing of Toki in his sleep.

He laid there waiting, waiting, watching the other teenager sleep, envying, hating, and sympathizing with him.

He remembered that steady, tender gaze that Toki had, the subtle manner in which he knelt before other people, totally surrendered his power and pride. He smiled and waited. He waited until—there it was. The alarm clock went off and Toki sat up, scratched his head, and stretched. He looked over and saw that Pickles was lying on his bed, protected from the chilliness of the room by mountains of blankets. "Hey." he said cautiously, remembering the beating he'd taken last night. The redhead sat up and nodded to him.

"Yeah."

He switched off the alarm clock and yawned. "Do you wants the first shower?"

"Nah," Pickles shook his head numbly. "you take it"

He didn't say this out of kindness or because he regretted his actions of the night before, only because he didn't feel like taking a shower that morning. He didn't feel like moving at all, so he laid back down and closed his eyes as Toki got up and hauled himself into the small bathroom. He didn't know why, but he waited some more until the Norwegian came out of the bathroom; only then did he rise from his warm blankets, throw on his shoes and jacket, and walk over to the door.

"I'm goin' get some food." he said, swallowing. He didn't meet Toki's gaze as he went out the door, but nonetheless the kid followed him.

"Ams you going to class tod-"

"Don't push it." he warned, rubbing his burning eyes. He knew that they were probably red, irritated, and bloodshot, but he didn't care. He just lit himself a cigarette and had a smoke before going into the dining hall to get breakfast. As the two outcasts took their seats at the empty table, Pickles cleared his throat and said dully, "I gat your book, by the way. You forgot it yesterday after you were done callin' me an asshole."

"Oh." Toki turned red and nodded. "Ja, rights."

"You want it back?"

"Ja, I woulds." he sounded uneasy, as if he were afraid that by indicating his desire for the object Pickles would keep it from him.

"Oh, that sucks." the redhead mumbled before wiping his nose on his jacket sleeve and stabbing at his food with a fork. " 'cause, y'know, s'pretty good, I guess." and he peered up and met Toki's gaze before adding quickly, "Nat that I read much—I actually hate reading, but it's just a good book."

"Ja, it ams." he lapsed into a fearful silence and then ate his breakfast. Pickles watched him and let his head rest on his hand. He felt mildly guilty for beating the Norwegian up, and he tried to push this feeling aside.

Finally he lost his sickening battle with guilt and said in a hushed tone, "I...I'm sorry."

Toki looked up and laid down his fork slowly, as if he was too astonished to believe what he'd heard. "You ams what?"

"Sorry," Pickles repeated, looking away and trying to hide the guilty look on his face. "I'm just...I'm so fuckin' sorry that you have to put up with me."

The Norwegian chuckled at this. "Puts up with you? What ams you mean?"

He struggled to find the right words. "I...y'know, I've just never really had to try before...I'm so used to just beating the shit outta people and tellin' them what to do, but this is different." he let out a tired sigh and admitted, "Everything's different; I'm in a whole new world and I don't know what to do or where the fuck to start. I'm just-"

"I'm sorrys." Toki interrupted, licking his lips and eating some more. "I'm sorrys that you have to be here to begins with. Your parents must reallys hate you to send you here, all the ways to Norway."

"Yeah," Pickles smiled to himself. "I guess they do." there was a long silence before the redhead dared to ask a question that had been on his mind for a while. "You're nat bad, so why did your parents send you here?"

"It was mostly my dads." he confessed. "And no, I don't thinks that I'm bad, but they do." he picked at the remaining food on his plate. "Maybe I ams..."

"No you're nat."

Toki met Pickles' gaze and said, "Maybes I am. What abouts you? You ams bad, but why?"

"I'm a fuck-up," he said almost proudly. "just a standard, top of the line asshole."

"Nos, I don't think you ams."

Pickles was so shocked by this response that his mind froze for a moment. Toki didn't think that he was a fuck-up? Wow. Everyone thought Pickles was a fuck-up, even Pickles himself, so what could the Norwegian possibly see in him that was halfway decent? The redhead had beaten him, degraded him, and broken his personal property, but still that wasn't enough to get Toki to hate him? Suddenly a slight, quickly growing fear filled Pickles' heart. He looked down at his shoes and began to pick his nails nervously. If Toki didn't hate him now after all he'd done, then he obviously was willing to be friends with him, and the redhead didn't know how to handle this. The only reason that Gunther Bekker was his friend at all was because he had beaten him up so many times that Gunther had become friendly with him out of fear. This was different, though. What Toki was aiming for was something more than just some crappy, fear-based thing.

What would he ask Pickles, what would he want to know? All at once it became too much for him, and the redhead got up and walked away without giving Toki a second glance. He didn't know it, but the Norwegian wasn't phased by this at all. He just smiled to himself and ate the rest of his food.

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He walked into class feeling utterly hopeless and pathetic that day. As he took his seat, another boy turned and laughed at him. Pickles didn't hesitate to throw his books onto his desk, take his jacket off, and approach him. "What're you laughin' at, fucker?" before he even had a chance to talk, Pickles had beaten him senseless. The other kids grew silent at this display and stared at the redhead with wide, open eyes. "Fuck all of you." was all he said as he retreated back to his desk and put on his jacket. He didn't even bother to stay and try to explain himself to the teacher. In a matter of minutes he was back out of class again, sitting on the same bench that he'd talked to Toki at yesterday.

Something inside of him secretly craved the Norwegian's approval, but this wasn't a shock to him. He always desired people's approval, only usually he was too afraid to be denied it and he just made an asshole out of himself. No, Toki was different. There was something about him that Pickles longed for, something that he didn't quite know how to process or comprehend. It was a mixture of the other teenager's astounding innocence, his fearlessness—he hadn't so much as flinched when Pickles had beaten him—and his seemingly endless supply of patience towards those who gave him trouble that the redhead was so drawn to. That's why after he went out of class and wondered around the empty, echoing halls of the school, he let his feet take him back to he and his roommate's spot. He didn't have to wait long. Something inside of him said that Toki would be here, all he had to do was be patient, and surely enough about ten minutes later there he was, crunching thru the snow and trying to hide the shame that was etched so clearly on his face.

"Heys." he mumbled quietly, throwing his stuff down next to the bench. "cans I sit down?"

Pickles shrugged. He was smoking now, unconcerned if anyone saw him or if he got in trouble because of it. He was beyond the point of caring about anything right now except Toki. He wanted to give the Norwegian what he'd never gotten from anyone before—a good, safe place to retreat to. He wanted the other boy to feel safe around him, because he knew that he sure as hell needed that same thing. Slowly he turned and stared at Toki, noticed for the first time how embarrassed he seemed. "What?" he asked in a deliberate softness, careful not to sound too pressing or angry, "Did they give you hell, too?"

"They?"

"Everybody."

He looked away and nodded, let some of his long hair fall and hide his face. "Ja, they dids."

"Hmm." he exhaled and smoke came out thru his nostrils, filled the chilly air. They said no more, because there wasn't anything else that needed to be said. Pickles had made his point perfectly clear; he was there for Toki just as long as Toki was there for him. Neither of them would be able to survive this trip into Hell without someone else there to lessen the pain of every day, and so they'd have each other for that. Pickles felt ashamed that he was this weak—he'd never needed someone else in his life before, he'd been totally and independent, confident in himself and his abilities, but here it was a whole different game he was playing. Here he could lose.

"I...I didn't do anythings, you know." Toki said, swallowing down his shame. "They just always fucks with me."

"Yeah," Pickles said in agreement, "I know."

"And...well..." he hesitated, glanced over at the redhead, but then became shy again and looked away.

"What?" the other teenager prodded.

"You wants to know why I'm never in class? It ams not because I get kicked out—sometimesthat happens, but mostlys I just gets up and walks out on my own."

"You can do 'dat?" Pickles asked, amazed that Toki had the guts to do this. The Norwegian nodded and put some of his long hair behind his ears.

"Um-hmm, I dos it sometimes, but only when I really can't takes it anymore. Only when I feel-" he stopped right there, afraid to stretch Pickles' patience too far. The redhead, however, wasn't feeling angry or impatient in the least; he just nodded in understanding and stuck his cigarette between his lips.

"Yeah." and with that simple response, Pickles let his mind wander back to his former life in his hometown. He wondered how everyone was doing—Duncan Hansen, his stupid father, Seth, and Gunther. His mind reeled at this last thought. Gunther! Pickles abruptly put his cigarette out and began digging in his jacket pocket. Toki watched him with a curious look on his face.

"What ams you-"

"Ssh," he said, motioning for silence as he dialed in the number. "I'm gonna make a call."

"Ohs, okay." and he distractedly began chewing on his nails. Pickles saw this out of the corner of his eye and frowned.

He slapped Toki's hands and scolded, "Hey, don't do 'dat, please. I hate it when people do that. S'gross."

"But you dos it, too."

He lowered the phone. "I do?" and he remembered that yes, he sometimes did, but only out of sheer, terrifying nervousness. He only ever picked or bit at his nails when he was absolutely on the edge of his rope and needed a way to level himself off. His mother had told him to do this when he was very young, because he'd had severe issues with controlling his raging temper. 'Pickles,' she'd say harshly, 'you get angry too much—punching boys in the face, slapping girls...whenever you get angry like that just think about something else—anything else...'

"Yeah," he said flatly. "I guess I do." then he turned his attention back to the still ringing phone. "C'man, Gunter, you fuckin' prick...you fuckin'-"

"Yeah, what do you want?"

"Gunter!"

"Yeah, it's me, but hurry up. It's two in the afternoon and me and Duncan are about to go to the field and get wasted."

"Right, uh—wait, two?" he inquired, "How can it be two in the fuckin'-"

"Times difference!" Toki chimed in almost happily. Pickles glanced over at him and nodded.

"Oh yeah, right. Anyways-"

"Who was that?" Gunther asked. "Who's there with you?"

"Nobody, just my roommate." Pickles said, rising up off the bench and pacing around in the snow. He could never keep still while on the phone.

"Oh, right, the cute one."

He became infuriated. "I never said-"

"You don't gotta say it, I could tell."

"Gad damn it, you little b-" he looked over, saw that Toki's eyes were wide with fear, and stopped himself. He took a deep breath and said with a forced calmness, "-listen, I don't have time for 'dis, alright? I only gat about an hour before I have to go back to class, and I don't wanna spend it talkin' to you about gay crap. Okay, I need-"

"Yeah, the classes!" Gunther exclaimed. He acted as if he'd forgotten that his best friend was actually in school at all. "Right, how are those?"

"Fuckin' stupid, alright? I can't stand it here, which is why I need to talk to you about that whole visitor's day thing."

"When is it?"

"I...uh..."

Toki, as if reading Pickles' mind, called out, "Next Mondays!"

"Thanks!" he yelled back before saying into the cell phone, "Next Monday. Can you get plane tickets?"

There was a slight hesitation in Gunther's voice before he admitted, "Yeah, about that...there's a lotta shit goin' on around here, and-"

"Unbelievable!" Pickles cried. "You can't even manage to get a couple of plane tickets for me! What the hell's wrang with you?"

"It's not me, its-"

"Listen, you've gat about five seconds to tell me why you can't come and see your best friend when he needs you. What kinda bitch are you?"

Gunther scoffed into the phone and asked sarcastically, "What, so now we're best friends again?"

"Just tell me! It's cold and I'm tired of standin' outside!" the redhead complained, making his way back over to the bench where Toki was sitting. The Norwegian was staring at him with big, almost expectant eyes, as if he expected to get a reward or something. Pickles just looked away and listened to Gunther speak.

"It's Jen—you remember Jen?"

He blushed. Yes, his little Italian princess. "Fuck yeah, I remember Jen."

"Crazy Jen? The Jen who still sticks naked pictures of herself and love notes in your locker, that Jen?"

"Yes," he said pressingly. " 'dat Jen, so what about her?"

"She..." Gunther seemed to be bracing himself as he said, "...she wants to come to. She wants us to buy her a ticket and-"

"Tell her no."

"We did, but she's crazy. She says she'll tell your dad that you—I dunno—raped her or somethin'."

Pickles laughed. "Wait, what? Are you stupid? Who cares if she tells him 'dat, he won't believe her!"

"He won't?"

And his laughter faded as he thought about this. His father had never trusted him, had always hated him, had always said that he'd grow up to be a rapist or a murderer or something worse... "I...uh...so what's the big deal? Just bring her."

"Pickle," Toki asked, nudging the redhead's arm. "ams everything okay? Ams it-"

"We can't find the cash to brig her!" Gunther exclaimed.

Pickles thought and thought. Suddenly he was feeling very stressed out, but an idea came to him. He said excitedly into the phone, ignoring Toki's questions, "Yeah you can, 'cause you're gonna go into my room, alright?"

"How will that help?" Gunther asked.

"In my room there's a little box thingy under my bed fulla cash. It's gat, like, fifty grand in it. I've been savin' it to move out, but if that bitch is gonna start a bunch of shit, just use it to get her and her big mouth over here and away from my dad." the more Pickles thought about it, the better of an idea it seemed. "Yeah," he thought aloud, smiling and blushing all over again, "get Jen down here, get me outta this stupid place, and then leave us alone and let me fuck her." Toki stopped his insistent inquires at this point; he turned completely red and scooted away from Pickles, looking astonished that he'd even heard those words. Gunther, however, wasn't surprised in the slightest by the redhead's thinking.

"I knew you'd say that. Okay, so it's under your bed, r-"

"Yeah, yeah, under my bed. Also, while you're in my house my dad keeps this really good whiskey in the cabinet just below the coffee maker. Get 'dat too, and if you can go to the little store by school and pick me up some more booze—good stuff, nat no cheap crap. Oh, and while you're at it, get me some-"

"Forget this!" Gunther cried in agitation. "I'm not your bitch and I'm not goin' shopping for you!"

His temper flared up again and he yelled into the cell phone, "You'll do it or I'll kick your dick-lovin' ass, do you understand me, you shitty little faggot?"

There was a moment of silence from the other end of the phone, and for one terrifying moment Pickles thought that Gunther had hung up on him, until a voice responded with a pitiful, "Fine, but only 'cause I miss you."

"Cut the gay crap and listen up—get some paper and a pencil, 'cause I want a lotta stuff. Now, while you're buyin' that booze from that store, don't forget to-"

"We're underage. How am I supposed to by any alcohol?"

He shrugged and smiled deviously over at Toki. The Norwegian was still quite red and puzzled-looking. "They never I.D. you there, so you shouldn't have a problem. Now listen, I want a buncha stuff...I want vadka, I want Bacardi. Get my drumsticks and my good guitar—nat the shitty acoustic Jen gave me last Christmas, 'cause only pussies play acoustic. I want my new Gibson..."

About half an hour later, a few moments from the bell, Pickles finally managed to hang up the phone. Once that was done he let out a relaxed sigh and looked up at the rolling, gray sky. Toki bit his lower lip shyly. "You...ums...bringing a girl?"

"Huh?" he broke his gaze away from the sky above and nodded over at him. "Yep, sure am."

"Ohs." he looked down at his boots and awkwardly cleared his throat. He was blushing all over again. "That ams cool, I guess. Girls ams nice."

"Yep, 'specially this one. She'll pretty much fuck anything that moves—and has red hair." Pickles grinned at this. Jen loved his hair...

Toki seemed even more confused by this. "I thinks your hair ams fine."

"But you're nat the one I'm gonna be fuckin', so I really don't give a shit if you like it or nat."

"Huh." he began kicking the snow below his boots, making little mountains of white powder. "Pickle?"

"Yeah?"

"You ever beens with a girl before?"

"Yep, loads of times."

"Hmm." he nodded and said softly, "That ams a surprise."

"Whadda mean by 'dat?" Pickles glared over at him. "I'm fine with girls, alright?"

"I never said that you wasn't, I just meants that-"

"I lost my virginity when I was, like..." he thought for a moment then said proudly, "...seven."

Toki laughed openly at this and shook his head. "Nos you didn't!"

"Uh, yeah, I did." Pickles insisted. "And I remember who the bitch it was, too. She was fourteen."

"Liar!"

"No way, I swear it's the truth!" he crossed his arms over his chest and said cockily, "Girls love me, I can't help it. They wanna fuck me all the time."

Toki got up, grabbed his book sack, and rolled his eyes. He said, his voice full of sarcastic humor, "Ja, sures they do, buts I don't see why." he turned and walked away. Pickles frowned at this.

"Wait, where you goin', asshole? You can't just say somethin' like that and walk away!"

"Class!" Toki yelled back. "It starts in a littles while."

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Clearly there was some kind of mystic ability that Toki possessed to make Pickles lose himself, because when the redhead went to his next class he wasn't angry at all. He didn't know what kind of hold the Norwegian had over him, but obviously it was good, so he sat in his desk and silently tolerated the humiliation the other students put him thru. At the end of the day he was feeling more than pleased with himself and the little amount of work he'd managed to accomplish, so he strode into his dorm room feeling wholly satisfied. Toki was laying on his bed facing the wall, his thin blanket pulled up to his chin. Pickles didn't think this was strange, so he went up to him and punched him roughly on the shoulder. The Norwegian just let out a little whimper of pain and pulled the covers up higher to cover himself.

"Guess what?" Pickles asked happily. For once he actually was proud of himself, he didn't feel like a total fuck-up. When Toki said nothing he answered his own question. "I made it thru the whole rest of the fuckin' day without beating the shit outta anyone! Ain't that just—hey, Toki, you okay?"

"Ja." he answered, his voice muffled by all of the blankets and pillows he had covering himself. Pickles frowned at this, utterly unconvinced.

"You want me to leave you alone, I guess?"

"Ja."

"You still mad at m-"

"Ja, just leaves me alone. That would be greats."

"Okay, sorry." he let out an annoyed huff then went over to his bed and laid down. He lit himself a cigarette and began to smoke, just to annoy Toki. It wasn't necessarily out of meanness, but more because he just wanted to get his attention and make him talk. It worked; in a few seconds the Norwegian was throwing pillows at him and yelling loudly in his native language.

"Slutte å gjøre det, jævelen!"

Pickles laughed at this and sat up. He continued smoking. "What'd you just say, idiot? Talk in English, I don't play that stupid, fuckin'-"

"Would you just please shuts up already? God, when will you just get it thru your stupids head that I don't care?" Toki cried. Still he didn't turn over in his bed, he just laid facing the wall. Pickles opened his mouth to speak, but before he could the Norwegian was sobbing. A look of worry came across the redhead's face as he slowly rose up and snuffed out his cigarette.

"Dude, are you okay? What's-"

"Leave me alone! You wouldn't care anyways."

"I don't know what you're even talkin' about! You're just being an asshole! Hey, why can't you even look at me when you talk? Turn over, lemme see your stupid fuckin' face, you prick." when Toki didn't comply, Pickles got up and angrily went over and made him turn to face him. He was surprised to see that Toki was cradling a bloody tissue to his chest and that his lip was split open. Blood slowly tricked out of the Norwegian's mouth, and he wiped it away before pushing Pickles aside and getting up. He made his way over to the bathroom and slammed the door.

"Wait!" the redhead called, desperate to make things right. "I didn't know—I didn't mean-"

"Leaves me alone! Jeg hater deg!"

"But I..." and his concern gave way to frustration. So what if Toki was hurt? That didn't mean he had to take it out on everyone else. Pickles pounded on the bathroom door and demanded, "Asshole, you'd better open this fuckin' door and talk to me like-"

"Likes what?" his voice was a wretched half-shriek, half-sob.

"Like a real man! Alright, so someone beat the hell outta you, who cares? Rub some dirt in it and be a man! That's what my dad always told me, and when I cried you know what he said?"

He heard Toki sniffle loudly in the confines of the bathroom before asking, "W-What?"

"He said he'd give me a fuckin' reason to cry, and he'd-" no, that was too much. He couldn't tell anyone what his father did to him, all the beatings he'd received from that man. Not even Toki could know, so he quickly resumed with, "Just get over it and come out and talk to me like real man."

Toki unlocked the door and stood there in the bathroom, his head hung low, his hair sticky with blood and clinging to his bleeding lips. He knew that Pickles was staring at him, sizing him up all over again, just like he'd done the day they'd met, and so he shrank back somewhat and spoke with an annoying meekness that the redhead despised. "I...I..." he bit his lower lip, ignoring the stinging, tear-summoning pain this brought onto him, "I'm nots a man!" that's it, he had lost his calmness all over again and he was sobbing and shrieking again, trying to shut the door once more on Pickles.

The redhead was too smart for him, though; this time when Toki went to slam the door shut, he stopped it with his bare foot. The door slammed into his foot hard, making him let out a yelp of pain and stagger back. That was all the motivation Toki needed to hurriedly lock himself in the bathroom again. Pickles rolled his eyes and took off his jacket. He said irritably, "Look, if you wanna be a little bitch about this, then fine, but you know what? You think that hurts, that little cut on your lip? That doesn't hurt, that isn't real pain. You don't fuckin' know real pain! You're a little bitch!"

"I'm nots a bitch!"

"Then prove it! Come outta the bathroom!"

"No!"

He sighed. So that wasn't going to work. Breathing heavily with rage, Pickles looked around the small room for anything that could help. He saw it, the old book. The Catcher in the Rye. He went over and opened it to a random page. From there he began reading.

"...I sat in the chair for a while and smoked a couple of cigarettes..."

"Pickle!" Toki begged, punching at the door in an attempt to get the other teenager's attention. "Stop readings my book!"

"...Boy, I felt miserable. I felt so depressed you can't imagine..."

"Shuts up! Stop reading!"

He didn't. Instead he just flipped a few pages and resumed, even louder now, "...What I really felt like, though, was committing suicide. I felt like jumping out the window. I probably would've done it, too, if I'd been sure somebody'd cover me up as soon as I landed. I-"

"Fine!" he unlocked the door, snatched the book back, and howled, "Fine, I'm outs! What the fuck do you want?"

"You...uh..." Pickles backed away and shrugged. "Just man up, 'dat's all."

Toki rolled his eyes at this and said hopelessly, "Pickle, I'm onlys fifteen! How the fuck ams I supposed to man up when-"

"Only fifteen? Whoa." He looked down. "But you don't act it. Sometimes you're weird and all mature. It throws me aff."

The Norwegian lost all signs of anger, resentment, and embarrassment and actually smiled at this statement. "Whats?" he asked innocently. "What does it dos?"

"Throws me aff," Pickles repeated. Toki began laughing, but the redhead just stood there frowning in confusion. "What's so funny?"

"You—'affs'. Ams that how all Americans talks?"

He blushed and went and laid down on his bed. "Asshole." he murmured as he leaned over and switched off the lamp. Toki happily went and crawled under the covers of his bed again, still gently dabbing his bleeding lip with his tissue. After a while Pickles couldn't help but ask, "Hey, kid, you're okay, right? I mean..." he felt so stupid for caring, for showing even a small bit of affection or concern for Toki, but he couldn't help it, not after seeing him like that, so pitiful and hurt. "...if you're nat I could, y'know, beat the shit outta someone for you."

"Nos, I think I can handle it."

"Oh. Okay, then."

Another moment of silence elapsed before, "Pickle?"

"Um-hm?" he asked, trying to make out the other teenager's face in the dark. He couldn't. The room was pitch black.

"I...well, nevers mind."

"Okay." he laid on his back and closed his eyes. Just when he had began to nod off to sleep he thought of something else he needed to say. "Heya, Toki?"

"Ja?"

"I lied."

"You lied? Abouts what?"

"That whole virginity thing."

He didn't seem surprised. "Oh."

Pickles didn't know what on earth he was thinking as he confessed, "I didn't lose it when I was seven, it was three months ago, and I've only really ever screwed one girl."

"Hmm. What ams her name?"

"Gabardi, Jen Gabardi."

"Oh. Okays, then." he acted as if this was the most normal conversation in the world, and Pickles really did silently thank him for that. At least he didn't make it awkward. Suddenly the redhead realized that he could talk to Toki about pretty much anything, and this made him smile to himself.

"Yeah," he continued, "and you know what else?"

"Whats?"

"I didn't even really like her, nobody did. Gunter dared me to fuck her, just to see if she'd actually put out. When she did I was so fuckin' surprised...scared shitless, too." he sighed in content and closed his eyes.

Toki just let out another simple, "Umm-hmm."

"It's weird, y'know? I mean, you do know, right—you know how weird it is to fuck a girl for the first time?"

"Nopes."

He frowned at this response. "Whadda mean nopes?"

"I don't."

So it was true, his first guess had been correct after all. Toki was a sad little virgin. Pickles almost laughed aloud at this, but controlled himself for fear of embarrassing the other teenager. "Uh-huh, sure. You mean you've honestly never gotten any?"

"Nope."

"Never?"

"Nos." Toki repeated calmly. He didn't seemed ashamed in the slightest, which was very odd. "Never, nevers, never, nevers, nev-"

"No sex, nat ever?"

He laughed now, amused by Pickles' failure to comprehend this fact. "Nopes, not ever."

"But have you ever wanted to?"

"Sures, I guess. Doesn't everyones?"

A weak answer. Pickles didn't accept it. He wanted to see just how far he could push Toki until he broke down and became humiliated. He wanted to know just how much he could trust the teenager, so he pressed on. "Don't you ever get horny?"

He hesitated before admitting, "Doesn't everyones?"

"Sure, but I'm nat talkin' about everyone, I'm talkin' about you."

"Oh...wells, ja, I guess."

"Well whadda do? I mean, if you've never fucked a girl, you have to do something, right?"

"Can we stops talking about this?" There it was, his breaking point. Although Pickles couldn't see Toki's face, he could tell that he was blushing madly. This idea made him chuckle, so he persisted relentlessly.

"Sorry, I guess I just can't remember what it's like."

"What what ams like?"

"Nat ever havin' fucked anyone, being a virgin. I don't get it. Why don't you fuck someone? I bet you could. Don't you want to?"

"I..."

" 'Cause I could set you up, I swear to Gad."

This idea seemed to intrigue Toki. "With whos?"

"Jen. She's Italian, really horny, and she'll do pretty much whatever I tell her. You want me to make her get with you?"

"I...n-nos, that ams fine. I'm good."

"Whatever...queer."

Toki snapped, "Whats did you just say?"

"Nothin'," Pickles answered, snickering to himself. "nothin' at all." He didn't know why, but that night he dreamed more about sex than usual, and he woke up feeling totally horny and aroused. His dreams hadn't all been about Jen Gabardi, his Italian princess, though.

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**A/N**

O_O

OMG, why is the ginger-haired alcoholic so fucking sexy? Damn, I don't know, but I hope you liked this chapter. More to come, and as always reviews are appreciated and all of that stuff. Yeah...I'm gonna go type the next chapter now while I'm still in the mood. Oh, and by the way, I've started uploading more Metalocalypse fanart up on my Deviantart account, so check it out if you want.

[theLastFlowerchild]

PEACE & LOVE