Authors Note: I do not own Metalocalypse at all. Do not own Dethklok. I merely borrow them for my own personal amusement and perversion. Hopefully, more perversion to come. Also, this chapter contains a small OC, but don't worry I refuse to do a Mary Sue or Gary Stu, ever.

A few weeks later

Toki found himself perched on a broken down amp in the corner of a basement of a friend-of-a-friend of Pickle's in a place ,known bizarrely as Club Baby Seal . He was dressed in Pickle's old hand-me-downs yet again-distressed and ripped all to hell skinny jeans, and holey Snakes N Barrels tee shirt that was so threadbare it was nearly translucent. As Pickles was a few inches shorter than the rapidly-growing teen, the jeans barely reached the kids slender ankles. In the crowd, Toki blended in perfectly in the sea of black shirts and distressed jeans.

Club Baby Seal was a 70's style split level house with a gigantic walk out basement, a fairly good main area. The basement had a long, comfortably padded bar surrounded by Halloween lights, and orange Christmas lights. . On the shelves were bottles upon bottles of various types of booze-ranging from Viking Blood Mead in a clay bottle, to Pernod Absinthe, and various flavors of schnapps. To the left hand of the bar was a long tacky card table that was laden down with various snacks, including to Toki's delight , cupcakes. There were also piles of brownies which had a label on them saying "Adults Only, Please" with a drawing of some green plant that the Norwegian didn't recognize. There was also brownies with frosting and sprinkles labeled "Kid-Friendly" , which Toki gladly helped himself to a few. Weirdly enough, there was huge bowls of Swedish Fish everywhere, as well as piles of Sour Patch Kids. Toki wasn't about to complain, he loved candy and he got a strange kick out of the Swedish Fish, thinking of Skwisgaar's reaction to them "Dey amsnest nots from Sweden!"

There was a fridge nearby, which was stocked to the brim with all types of German style beer, pitchers of lemonaid and bottles of spirit mixers. There was also a huge selection of various sodas, including strawberry flavored Crush. The top of the fridge had several anatomical human skulls and an impossibly, hilariously over-sized monster dildo in pitch black silicone. The top of the heavy silicone member sported a tiny plastic green St. Patrick's Day hat at a jaunty angle. In a corner was a male manikin that was spattered with neon paint, and had a huge neon green strap on codpiece attached to it. A policeman's hat completed the ridiculous ensemble. Somehow, the strange oddity fit in with the rest of the discorded decorations.

Here and there were broken-down couches, and chairs, none of which matched each other in the slightest. The theme simply was "70's Garage Sale meets 90's Grudge", which oddly enough gave the place a comfy, lived in feeling. For whatever fucking reason there was a wooden board duct taped to a part of the wall, an angry face crudely drawn in it with a Sharpie, but it was cool. Behind the bar there were several posters 80's style glam-rock girls posed in high-cut bikinis, their faces artistically replaced with Nicolas Cage's creepily smirking face. It was hilarious.

As he looked around, he noticed more posters-some were cult classic movie posters, others were various band posters, several of which, Toki noticed, were of Snakes N Barrels. Pickles and his band stared wantonly at the camera, pink painted lips puckered up in a mocking, bitchy sort of way. Toki studied one he was closest too. He didn't recognize the other members of the band, but focused instead on the much younger Pickles. His red hair was all over the place-like a lion's mane. His green eyes were lined in black, making the green appear more vivid. Toki briefly wondered if he would look good in eyeliner like that, but then thought how girly that was.

He then glanced over at the drummer, seeing the difference in age-this Pickles was a bit pudgier , his hair in thick dreads, some of which were combed over in order to hide his bald spot. Not that it was a bad look. Present-day Pickles was currently talking to the owner of Club Baby Seal , two icy cold bottles of something in his hands.

Pickles patted the owner guy on the back before wiggling through the crowd towards Toki's corner. He holds out a pink bottle of something that smells fruity to the Norwegian, who hesitatingly took it from the drummer.

"You'll like dis one, Toki.. it's fruity, and light enough for ya that I won't get Blondie on my case aboutcha" Pickles shouted over the music.

Toki took a sip, it was really good. It had a syrupy sweetness to it , and he didn't taste the alcohol at all in it. He grinned at the drummer, pointed to the drink raised in his hand, and gave him the American thumbs-up sign. He drank it within minutes, and was starting to feel fairly good. Thank Odin he was wear a thin top, because it was hot in here. The body heat, the booze and the various hookahs scattered throughout the area made it hot and humid in a hurry. The shisha smelled heavenly, some using peach flavored shisha, and the largest one was using a combination of strawberry and a hint of something else, which made it smell like strawberry pop tarts. Toki imagined that Wonderland would smell like hookah smoke-soft, fluffy and deviously wicked.

The drummer wandered off looking for people to talk to, leaving Toki to people watch in the corner. The music overhead was playing a strange mash-up of a techno violin song and a some death metal song Toki wasn't familiar with. . The DJ was a dorky-looking chubby kid with a surprisingly pointed noise, who kept messing with the songs as they were being played. The area of the floor was cleared to make room for anyone wanting to dance. The next song started up, and suddenly the floor was bogged down by a incoming tide of black and indigo. The tide swelled, ebbed and flowed with the music, everyone swaying in harmony and discord with each other. Toki hoped off his amp and joined in, losing himself in the heavy beats of the music-a combination of techno and death metal.

He grinned as he flailed his arms about, mimicking the dance moves others were doing. He probably looked like he was having a seizure, but what the fuck? He felt hands on his slender hips, but didn't turn around right away, until a curtain of blond hair fell across his vision.

"Hellos, Little Tokis.." the blond guitarist said , his lips brushing against the teen's ear. He was gyrating against the Norwegians back, matching beat for beat with him. The increase of people in the tiny "dancing area" made their bodies press together all the more.

Skwisgaar bit back a groan, spinning Toki around to face him. Much better. Toki looked up from where his face was smashed up against the other man's bony sternum, which seemed lovelier in the orange lighting. The blond man reached his arms around crushing the boy's hips to his own, grinding into him in time with the music. The teen could feel the other man's hardness as they bumped and grinded , which make him feel lightheaded and giddy. It was the very mimicry of sex that made the teen flush with excitement. The feel of the Swede's hands rucking up his shirt was nearly too much. Toki's nerves were on fire, his skin feeling suddenly too tight. The song ended all too soon, replaced by a slower tune, and the crowd dissipated towards the couches to smoke hookah, or towards the bar for a refill. Skwisgaar still had a tight hold on the kid's shoulders as he steered him towards the bar again.

Toki was handed another pink wine cooler by the blond , and was steered back to a vacant loveseat in one of the darker corners. He felt his face flush as Skwisgaar settled down next to him, the loveseat sinking in far too much, squishing the pair closer together. Toki grasped the cool bottle in both hands and timidly looked around before sneaking a glance at the Swede.

Skwisgaar was watching Toki was his innocent lips wrapped around the frosty bottle , watching him gulp down the sticky sweet drink. His eyes lingered at the Adam's apple bobbing up and down as he drank, then back to the lips which seemed fuller. He licked his lips, and lowered his head, looking up through his long golden eyelashes, biting on his full lower lip before slowly releasing it. He allowed the tiniest of groans to escape his lips as he imagined what he would love to do to the scrawny teenager.

Toki's already large frosty blue eyes got impossibly huge and round when he saw Skwisgaar eye him like he was a delicious treat he couldn't wait to devour greedily.

His thoughts were interrupted by Pickles and another redheaded man coming their way. The man looked a lot like the drummer, except he was younger and much thinner, though his hair was down halfway to his back in a low pony tail. He was dressed a bit more casually then the rest, a loose fitting green shirt and dark not-so-skinny jeans, and oddly enough, green and white stripped socks.

Toki had a slight fetish for novelty socks-he felt it added some fun, plus people never really saw your socks, so who gave two flying fucks in the Vatican if your socks featured seasonal motifs or super heroes? Toki had a growing stash of socks-his current pair was Loki from the Avengers.

"This is Skwisgaar, he's our lead guitarist, and the kid is Toki, he plays rhythm." The drummer pointed out "This here is my cousin, Cherry .. he said he's gonna be our DD tonight so we can all get shitfaced.."

"Cherrys.. likes de fruits?' Skwisgaar asked with a smirk from his position on the loveseat

"Eh." The man named Cherry shrugged good-naturedly, not offended by anything.

"Why joos calleds a fruits?' Toki had to know. Then again, he still didn't get an answer on why Pickles was called Pickles. Was he named that when he was a baby? Did he change it? Maybe it was something Pickle's family did-name their kids after food stuffs. What was the rest of the Pickle's family's names? Pickles and Cherry… maybe there was someone named Pizza, or Cupcake. That would be funny.

Cherry turned his attention to the older redhead "Oi, Pickles, no OD'ing on me tonight, kay? I dun' wanna have ta git yer ass to the doctor's and sit 'round da damn ER fer five fackn' hours bored ta tears caz they gotta pump yer fackn' bloody guts and IV yer scrawny ass arms n shit.. plus, I gotta deal wit yer bitach of a ma, and .. dun git me started on yer dad.. fucker. Sorry.. they jus' keep naggin' me ta bring ya back ta Wisconsin, and well, fack them, am I right? Fack.. I kno' ya like it 'ere wit' yer band an all...I'm gonna get a soo-da.. ya want sumtin'? '

'Sum vodka and orange juice, eh?'

"Screwdriver it is..'

Toki was still confused, but didn't think too much on it as the man wandered off somewhere, leaving Pickles behind with the two Scandinavians.

"Whats ams Dee-Dee?' Toki asked, looking up

"Designated Driver. Means that he will drive us home so we can totally get drunk tonight. Cherry can't drink anymore cuz of his meds, so he is a good DD. Can usually call 'im up anytime for a lift, rilly.. '

"Hows do yous normallies gets homes whens joo drunk?"

"Nathan usually gets stuck being sober so he can drive. Pisses the fucks outta him." Pickles said absent-mindedly before he moseyed off in search of the lyricist to tell him the good news. The crowd swallowed up the little redhead drummer within a few feet.

Toki settled back down against the loveseat, and relaxed as Skwisgaar turned to face him, leaning against one impossibly slender arm. The lead's long fingers trailed lazily at the boy's collarbone, playing with the ends of hair that was starting to brush his wide, bony shoulders. Toki mirrored the action, turning his body to face the older man, and bringing his arm up in a similar fashion, twirling playfully at the golden tendrils. The world seem to shrink down to the two of them, even though Toki could feel the bass of the music thumping against his vocal cords and in his veins. The music seemed softer, muted, and the edges of his vision where delightfully fuzzy. The world shrank down until the party beyond the two Scandinavians ceased to exist. The Swede was staring at Toki thoughtfully, his eyebrows arched in what most people would deem a scowl, but the Norwegian had come to know as Skwisgaar's "thinking face".

The eyebrows furrowed deeper, and those impossibly full lips turned down slightly more at the corners, and Toki noticed that the older man seemed to be tracing small circles now against his skin, trying to work out what to say next.

"Toki…" Skwisgaar murmered softly

"Ja.."

More soft tracing of his skin, and Toki was starting to shiver. Club Baby Seal was now positively packed with people, and the basement was swelteringly humid from all the body heat. But Toki suddenly felt icy cold and feverishly hot. How the hell was that even possible?

"I.. uh.. do you like your drink?" The Swede blurted out, his face suddenly terrified. "Mine is empty..uh"

Toki watched the back of the Swede as he went back up to the bar, only to be slapped on the back by giggling Cherry, who was busy downing a tall bottle of some fruity-looking cocktail. The Swede seemed awefully tense, considering that he usually seemed to thrive in a crowd full of drunk and horny women. He spoke briefly to the redhead before he sauntered back to the loveseat in the corner, this time a strawberry soda in one hand, and a Legspreader cocktail in the other, its color a opaque yellow-green, but smelled like pineapples and coconut, which the lead guitarist was very fond of.

"Pickle's friends Cherry said nots to gets you toos sloppies, saids for everys twos drinks you haz, you drinks a sodas..which is dildos, buts joos little baby that can'nst handles joors drinks" Skwisgaar scoffed as he sipped at his "buts, tries dis, I tinks joos likes."

Toki took a cautious sip-it was surprisingly good, the pineapple and coconut reminded him of Pina Colada popsicles that Murderface would buy him from Aldis. The melon flavor, though was a nice twist. He took a few more little sips, before he felt the glass being tugged from him.

'dats enough, Tokis.. sips de sodas insteads..'

"I has to finish de seconds ones firsts..' Toki whined, holding up his half-full bottle of Jamaca Me Happy wine cooler.

"Alrights, buts afters dat, you drinks sodas.. don'ts wants yous barfings all overs de places"

Toki sipped the rest of his wine cooler as he watched the party from his cozy loveseat in the corner. Several plus size women were dancing in a trace-like way to a slow paced, melodic techno song. The way their full hips were gyrating under their full, fluffy Lolita skirts reminded Toki suddenly of the hippos in their pink, frothy tutus in that Fantasia movie. Toki couldn't help himself. He started giggling into Skwisgaar's shoulder.

He felt good, damn it, so fucking good. Bubbily. That was the word. Bubbily. The music was really good, the DJ was blending deth metal with trance with an eerie effect, and dance floor was seething with everyone dancing, bumping and grinding against each other. Everything just felt wonderful, and here Toki was, on the other end of the world from Norway, in a friend-of-a-friend's basement, the world's fastest guitarist alive by his side on a crappy little 70's plaid loveseat.

The very same lead guitarist that constantly showed the love-starved Norwegian affection, the very one Toki was falling in love with. The blond was absentmindedly petting the back of Toki's head as he drank his Legspreader cocktail.

Toki sipped the last drops of the wine cooler, leaning back into the loveseat. He was now in the most brutal dethmetal band, they had been signed to a label. Hell, within a few weeks, they would be finally recording their songs and making their very first album. He, stupid little worthless demon-spawned Toki Wartooth, was going to be rich, maybe not famous right away, but he could have money to buy things.

He finally had a home, his own room. His new family let him have coloring books, and things to draw with, and he was allowed to have toys for the first time in his life. It was a far cry from his punishment hole and his clown doll, which he had to hide from his parents, who refused such basic creature comforts as a companion doll.

He had clothes-okay, they weren't fancy, but they were cool. Back in Norway, he only had a ragged pair of shorts a a threadbare tee shirt, two pairs of socks, two pairs of underwear. His family didn't see the need in providing more then the barest of the bare basics. Toki didn't even own a sweater, much less an actual coat for the freezing cold. He dreamed that one day he could wear whatever he wanted, and here he was, wearing "devil's music" tee shirts, and skinny-leg jeans , and shoes that had laces.

He finally was wearing band tee shirts like he always wanted, granted most of them were various Snakes N Barrels tee shirts (Nathan's were so big they ended up more like a dress on his small frame), but they were band shirts. It was even cooler that they were worn by an actual famous person-Pickles. The same exact Pickles who pawed through his belongings in search of a lava lamp because Toki just couldn't stand the dark anymore. Pickles, who tore through his closet in order to supply the homeless teenager with something to wear, because he knew the others clothes wouldn't fit (Skwisgaar didn't have much, and what he did own was miles too long in the legs for the short Norwegian).

Nathan took him to the library every Thursday, rain or shine, so he could get books to read, and he never made fun of him for his love of Beatrix Potter's works. Murderface took him to the cheaper drag races, and college baseball games, using a fake school ID to get him in for free. He even let Toki join him when he went "dumpster diving" or "curb shopping", where they would drive about in Nathan's truck, looking for anything good that was left out on the curb. Sometimes they would keep something, adding to the Mordhaus, other times they would pawn or sell it at a secondhand store, then buy whatever the two wanted with it.

All the stupid, horrible shit that went wrong in his life led up to him, here now, sitting next to a gorgous blond man, sipping some pink fruity wine coolers, listening to some metal-techno mashup, in a basement. And, for once, Toki thought perhaps all the beatings, all the scars, all the drudgery in the snow was worth it for him to just end up here next to the fastest guitarist alive, his hands on the older man's knee like it was the most natural thing in the world.

Suddenly, Toki felt wetness on his cheeks. He was crying. It wasn't sad crying, not exactly but still.

"Tokis.. what is wrong.."

"I don't know" Toki hiccupped, clutching the fabric of his shirt in his fists, looking down at the orange-brown shag carpet.

"Please.." Skwisgaar's cool hand was at the teen's shoulder, and the blond was leaning down to get a better look at the Norwegian.

'I guess. .. it just hit me.. that I am here, right now. I'm actually at a party, with friends, and cupcakes, and booze. And I am wearing a real cool band tee shirt… I am in a dethmetal band, and I have my own room, and toys, and I got to kiss you.. and.. " Toki babbled, hiccupping harder as tears fell down onto his Snake's and Barrels shirt.

Skwisgaar grabbed a small handful of Toki's shirt, too worried

"then why are you crying, Little Toki?"

"I'm just really happy..I'm sorry I'm so weird.. I just get like this'

"shh. It's okay, come on, lets get out of heres.. too crowded."

Skwisgaar stood up, and bent down to offer a hand to his rhythm counterpart. Toki on his feet, he followed the blond up the stairs, ignoring the grins, and smiles of the other party goers. They blinked when they entered the kitchen-the bright fluorescent lights seemed harsh after the mellow orange glow of the Halloween lights in the basement. Wonderful smells drifted up from various crockpots, and there was several bags of various chips.

They walked , Skwisgaar's around around Toki's shoulders, through the living room which was crowded with a bunch of sorry looking metal head kids hunched over a coffee table, deep in a game of Magic the Gathering. In a recliner, a blond punk rock chick was making out furiously with a Gothic Lolita, her giant head-eating bow disheveled in her hair. Skwisgaar shot the punk girl a grin. She flipped him off with a cute smile.

Skwisgaar ignored random people in the hallways, before opening up a random door. Nope. Bathroom. Next one, closet.. but there was already in there, passed out drunk and holding a foam battle axe. Nice.

He found a small bedroom that was unoccupied, and pulled Toki with him into it. As soon as the door shut, he pounced on the Norwegian, who just smiled sweetly at him before rising on his tiptoes to kiss him back.

Odin, he missed this-he was positively starved for the other's kiss. He wanted to devour the younger man , and he focused his energy into lapping his tongue playfully against the others. Sweet Black Fucking Sabbath, the kid tasted sweet, syrupy strawberries coupled with the illicit tang of alchohal. Naughty and Nice, Skwisgaar thought as his hands slid up Toki's shirt to reach his tiny little nipples. His skin was so velvety soft, and Judas Priest, the kid's skin was on fire. He pushed the shirt, revealing those cute little pink disks.

'Gods.. Tokis.. what ams yous doingsk to mes?" Skwisgaar groaned against a nipple before sucking at it greedily.

Toki moaned loudly, arching his back against the door of the bedroom and into Skwisgaars hot mouth. The older man bit at the petite nubbin of flesh, and slid another hand along the teen's bulging inseem of his jeans. Toki nearly screamed when the blond man rubbed his member.

He never felt anything like it, and his breath caught in his throat as the older man slid down on his knees, his long fingered hands hooking around the teen's jean loops .

Skwisgaar looked up at his rythim counterpart, drinking in his flushed innocence. He loved how the boy's chestnut hair was nearly down to his shoulders, loved how the choppy, peicey layers he cut on his first day was now grazing along those sharp cheekbones. That wide mouth was parted ever so slightly, the corners up turned into a sweet smile. He wanted to make this good, he wanted to savor this for himself as well, like Toki's innocence was a fine wine to sip, savor and take the time to thoroughly enjoy to the very last drop.

And savor he would.

Skwisgaar carefully unbuttoned the Norwegian's jeans, before sliding down the zipper. Toki was starting to hyperventilate above him, and was trembling with nervous energy.

"Skwisgaar.." Toki breathed, reaching out a hesitant hand to awkwardly pet the blond's hair.

"Relax, Little Toki.." Skwisgaar pulled the teen's straining member free of its blue boxer-briefs. Cute, he thought, so cute. The Norwegian's wood was gorgeous, slightly curved, and much thicker than his own, though not as long , but still sizable. The color was nice too-delicately pink at the tip, but deeper in color then his own ivory rod.

He touched the velvety skin and caressed the bulbous tip. It was throbbing with need, and starting to weep for him.

Skwisgaar looked back up, his breath catching in his throat. Toki was just so fucking gorgous, he was biting at his lower lip, his head thrown back against the door, and was staring down at him with those glacier blue eyes shadowed by those thick black eyelashes. His face had a beautiful crimson flush. Perfect.

He lowered his head, breathing hotly on the Norwegian's wood, watching it pulse slightly, bobbing just a tiny fraction of an inch. Then, with a gasp of pleasure, Skwisgaar took the engorged head into his wet mouth, before starting to slide down the length.

Gods, he was thick, stretching his jaws to the fullest as he took the teen down to his downy base of his cock. Toki desperately clawed at Skwisgaar's shoulder, his hands fisting in his golden hair, making mewing cries.

The Swede should have known his rythim guitarist could only handle so much, and within a minute, Toki let out a strangled cry, releasing his seed into the surprised blond's mouth. Skwisgaar bobbed slower, letting the younger teen come down slowly from his orgasm.

Smirking, Skisgaar pulled back so he could swallow every last drop, savoring the sweet-salty taste. He lingered, closing his eyes at the sensation. He had never enjoyed himself to much giving oral pleasure as he did now.

"Yous dids verys goods." Skwisgaar murmered, standing up and brushing off his knees. He crushed the Nord in a embrace , leaning against him as he buried his head in the younger one's soft brown hair. He was still achingly hard, his body screaming for release, but he wanted to take things slow.

"Wowee" Toki gasped, his eyes not quiet meeting his, but rather down and to one side. He was obviously embarrassed. He patted the blond's back, and nervously petted along the length of the other's silky wavy hair. He didn't know what he should say. Thank you? Was that a good thing to say?

"Um.. thanks?"

"Dids yous likes it, Littles Tokis?" Skwisgaar smiled warmly, stroking along those cheekbones with a calloused thumb.

"Ja.." the teen breathed shakily, tracing circles along the other's upper arms.

"Wes cans dos dis agains, as muchs as yoos wants.."

"Id.. like that, a lots.."

"Me too.." Skwisgaar sighed, resting his forehead against Toki's, his touches soft and slow, relaxing. He wanted to make sure he did this right from start to finish.

There was now lots of noise coming from the other side of the door, and he heard a pair of yooper-tinted accents crawling throught he walls.

"Where da hell did Jailbait and Blondie go?'

"Dood.. dun call Toki Jailbait, dats not cool.."

"Yer da one dat brought a cute kid like him to Club Baby Seal, man.. dun start that wit' me.. until ya told me his age, I thought maybe ya were gonna set me up wit' him.. '

"Gawd.. Cherry.. ya'r rilly, rilly gahy..'

'The gayest ginger eva'

The Scandivanans scooted away from the door just in time for Cherry to open it. He saw them, mid-embrace, Toki's pants still undone, and Skwisgaar's hair messed up. Toki looked paniced, his eyes huge and round, and Skwisgaar scowled at the intruder.

'Hey.. Um, .. . dun lemme spoil yer fun', and with that the redhead dug in his baggy jeans for a packet of lube, and a condom, which he unceremoniously tossed at them with a shit eating grin, before closing the door, laughing like a merry Leprechaun as he sashayed down the hall, steering Pickles away from the bedroom.

'Yannow what ya need, Pickles? A good ol' game of Beer Pong, eh… lemme ask ol' whatshisnuts about it..Ca'mon.."