Authors Notes: I am very very sorry about the delay in chapters! I had my head wedged up my ass. Please pardon the massive amounts of Deftones.. not metal, I know. But perfect to fuck to. Lemon ahead.

Toki pushed through the seething crowd of metalheads, before launching himself into the circle pit that was forming in the center of the floor while the headliner was feverishly playing. It felt good to get out there, pushing against the other sweaty bodies and being pushed back. A sense of belonging overtook him. These sweaty, filthy assholes were all like family. A big fucking dysfunctional metalhead family.

Fuck it. He lost himself in the madness.

The floor was slippery with spilled beer and sweat as Toki slid into various people, taking out his frustration out on the bodies next to him. He slammed his body against his brethren, joyous rage overtaking him. As shoulders collided against his bony ones, something felt validated deep within him. The strobe lights going off above his head made everything seem surreal and alien in sudden still-frames before darkness engulfed them.

Endorphins were pumping through his system, and damn it felt good. A ham-size fist collided with him, and he ignored it, pushing back at the writhing black mass of bodies.

The next song started up, earning a collective cheer from everyone before the pit continued. The violence was escalating, and the Norwegian was soaked in sweat as he pummeled away through the crowd.

He felt his hair plaster to his face, and was grinning ear to ear. He allowed himself to be swept along with the mass of bodies, crashing into the other concert goers like waves on the beach. His muscles burned pleasantly as he pummeled, moshed and swayed to the hypnotic beat of the bass and drums. It had been nearly too long since he felt a release like this.

Strobe lights went off again, distracting the young Norwegian slightly.

A pair of huge hands grabbed at him, before latching on with an iron grip that would not be denied. Toki, frightened pulled away, suddenly scared shitless. Before Toki knew what hit him, Nathan had him by the wrist and was hauling him bodily out of the pit and into the greenroom.

The crowd seemed to part for the hulking lead singer, as he dragged along the smaller teen. Nathan scowled at a few people who wouldn't budge out of his way.

The disoriented Norwegian found himself practically thrown at Skwisgaar, who was nervously shredding on his Explorer on one of the sofas in the dilapidated green room.

Skwisgaar wrapped his skinny long arms around his Norwegian counterpart without a second thought, scowling at the others before they could say anything else.

Toki was the "baby" of the band after all.

The scantily clad bassist from the first band snickered as the teen tried to worm his way out of the Swede's iron grip.

"Fer shames, Toki! Joos could have been hort. Joos could has brokens you hands. What den? What about de band, Toki? Who wipes you ass den?" the blond scolded when Toki finally broke free.

Toki shrugged.

"Yeh. Wot about da band, Tokiee..? If ya hurt yer hands, den ya can' play, you can' play, den ya fack up da band." The drummer piped up before being hit on the shoulder by the lyrist.

" Uh, Toki… listen, mosh pits are brutal. I get that. But if you fuck up your hands, I swear to fucking god of fuck , I will have to break you and whichever motherfucker fucked up your fucking hand."

"Way ta use the word "fuck", Nate.."

"Rnn" the lyrist grunted, feeling like he was caught in a marital battle with his drummer.

"Fines." The sulking Norwegian sighed, looking defeated.

"Aw, Hey.. don' be hard on yerself.. cahm 'ere. Gotcha a drink.." the drummer motioned to him over at his seat

"I don' like de beers, Pickle.'

"Naw, dis shit ain't beer, its this hard cider.. You like apple cider?"

"I likes de apples juice de French guy boughts.." Toki said after awhile

"You'll like this. It's hard apple cider-tastes like really good juice, only better. Cuz it's got booze in it." The drummer grinned

"Booze makes everything better" Nathan agreed

"Youch knowsh whatsh makes things better then beer? Titsh." The bassist spat from his dark corner, where he had been absient-mindedly stabbing at the paisley easy-chair.

"Ha.. joos noes what better den tits? Tits what have booze comings out of dem." The blond joined in

"Naw.. tit booze would be warm.. I dun' know 'bout you Scandies, but I like my booze n' shit COLD. Nat luke warm, nat sorta-gas-station-cool, and certainly nat fackn' warm..tastes like piss, Skwis. Heh. Dat rhymes.."

"Ah, sorry to interrupt you boys, be we need to hit the road if we are going to make it to the next gig. Chop chop. " Charles said from the doorway to the green room, trying to see through the cloud of pot smoke.

"Noo! Dood, it's only nine at night! Cahm ahn Afdensen! Yer nat our Mam! "

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Several hours later, Dethklok found themselves on the road again, trying to put as many miles between them and their last gig. The air conditioning was on full blast, in effort to keep Charles awake behind the wheel. It was officially freezing balls inside the un-marked pedo-van ( as Pickles called it).

Its occupants were trying desperately to warm up, but decreed that jackets were not metal. The Tomahawk native didn't give to shits about the rule, as he was riding shotgun next to Charles, and was taking the full blunt of the polar air pouring in. He had wrapped himself up in one of his fuzzy green towels as a blanket, in attempt to warm himself up. He was starting to wish like hell that he brought along his weather-stained SnB hoodie.

To distract himself from the cold, the redhead stared out the window.

Pickles was mesmerized by watching the night scenery pass by. Cities always looked beautiful to him at night, their lights twinkling in the distance.

Their manager was playing some classical music softly in the back ground. The music suited him, Pickles thought as he snuck a peek under his lashes at the brunet.

He was definitely a classy type of guy, from the top of his well-groomed, slicked back hair, to the bottoms of his polished, Italian-leather shoes. Hell, even his features were classy. Attractive, even.

He spent way to long in the glam rock scene to be bothered by his thoughts. Attractive was attractive, whither you were a dood, a chick, chick with a dick, or whatever. It wasn't as gender-biased as the rest of the members thought.

He glanced back at the rest of the band in the darkness. Nathan was sprawled out, thick arms crossed over his black composition notebook. Murderface was sleeping with his head at an ackward angle that would probably hurt like a bitch later. The bassist's mouth was wide open-Pickles could practically smell it from where he was. The drummer had a suspicion about ol' William- he had to do yoga in his free time-if his legs were any further spread, he would be doing the splits. He was always standing like he just got done with seeing his gynecologist.

Way in the back, under Nathan's old navy fuzzy throw blanket were the Scandinavians. He couldn't help but grin. Toki had practically crawled into the older man's lap, burying his face in to the crook of his neck as Skwisgaar rested his head on top of his while his long arms wrapped securely around the Norwegian. It was hard to tell where one started and the other began-just a jumble of long hair and long limbs.

He knew what was going on between the those two from the moment they locked eyes on each other. Hell, he felt it practically crackle in the air at that first meeting. How the others were oblivious to it was beyond him, but he knew how homophobic the bassist was, and how Nathan could get. Being gay wasn't brutal, and as a death metal band they had to keep it together.

He leaned back into his seat , to find the manager staring at him briefly.

"Dood, everyones passed out." Pickles commented softly.

"Yes. It would seem so. Otherwise, I am sure that my music selection would be a source of debate."

"Naw, it suits you. Classy, you know?"

"Ah, thank you, Pickles."

"What other kind of stuff do you listen to?"

"I don't really see how my music choices are relevant.."

"Aw.. don' be dat way, Charlie. Jus' askin' a question.." the drummer pouted, wrapping his makeshift 'blanket' around him tighter.

Charlies sighed next to him, loosening his tie with one hand while keeping a firm grip on the wheel with the other.

"I listen to all kinds of music." The brunet ventured

'Dat is the sorriest excuse of a answer I ever heard.."

The older man sighed again.

"Fine. I like Porcupine Tree, Pink Floyd, Tool, Snakes n Barrels…"

"Wait, what? You like my old band?"

"Yes." Charlies muttered, shifting slightly

"Rilli? You don't seem like a glam-rock kinda guy."

Charlies cleared his throat before softly saying "Maybe not now, no."

"Ah, see, I knew you were cool, man. Knew it. Why the hell else you wanna babysit some baby death metal band?!"

Nathan grunted in his sleep, causing the drummer to whip his head around to make sure everyone was still out of it.

Pickles was grinning ear to ear. He got so much shit for being in a glam rock band, but it was good to have some company at last.

They passed their time quietly talking about old 80's bands, and the 90's grunge scene, but it ended too quickly .

As soon as the van stopped, the others stirred, though the Scandinavians were still conked out in the back. The Roadie's van and the equipment truck had already arrived some hours before hand, and the various members were already stretching and hauling Dethklok's luggage out.

"AWSH. SCHICKS! Yoush are gaysh.!" Murderface lisped as he saw the two guitarists snugged up under the blankets.

Pickles sighed. "Dood, their European.. dey do shit differently. Aren't so fackn' homophobic like we are.."

"Europeans aresh gays." The bassist muttered as he limbered out of the black van

"Sir, we have your luggage ready for you in room 12." One of the long-haired roadies offered, handing over a card-key to the yellow-eyed man, who eyed it like it might bite.

"Yoush gots beersh in there.?"

"Yes, sire. As well as snacks."

"Good.. whatsh about a hot chick?" the bassit mumbled hopefully

"No, regretfully not sire… "

"Who the fucksh do I havesh to kill to get a blow job around thish fuckingsh place? Jeezy!"

"There are roadies that would be willing, sire…" the man replied carefully, his poker face on as the brunet leered at him

"Whatsh.. theysh chicks? I didn'tsh thinks we had girl roadies…"

"No, sire. As of now, all Gears are male.."

"Gearsh? Whats that shit.."

"Ah.. I would belive that is the term for your new roadies, William." The manager sighed as he glanced over, a small cluster of Gears were relaying information and going over the next day's schule one last time before the hazel-eyed man retired for the night.

"Gears." Nathan muttered

"Yah.. Our own minions.." Pickles smiled

"Brutal."

Toki and Skwisgaar stretched their long limbs under the blanket and piled out of the van.

Toki's hair was fluffed up, and was blinking sleepily at his surroundings as the redheaded roadie handed over their key cards.

"Joos..uhm..does what I asks?"Skwisgaar shifted slightly, lowering his voice to a barely audible whisper.

The other redhead nodded ever so slightly, a smile quirking at one side of his lips.

Toki blinked at the two conspiring long-haired men before yawning a little bit as he shifted the fuzzy blanket over his shoulders like a super hero cape. In his mind, he looked really cool right now.

"Comes on, dildos, we gets joos to beds so joos playing amnest not so like shit from ?" Skwisgaar said in his regular volume, tugging along the half-awake Norwegian. Their room was slightly away from the others, located closer to where the roadies were holed up at the other end of the motel.

As he tugged the younger man along with, Skwisgaar swore that the manager leveled him with a nasty stare. Pickles gave him the thumbs up behind the other's retreating backs, whatever the hell that was supposed to mean.

The blond's hand's trembled ever so slightly. Ok. So, he and the Nord shared a room most times. Why was this so different? Huh?

Oh.

Right.

Porcupine Tree's Let's Sleep Together greeted the Scandinavians as they opened the door, as well the heavy scent of spicy incense.

"Oh, dis smells pretties, Skwisgaar.." the pale-eyed teen smiled at the taller man.

"Ja.. dats am rights. Better den stale ciger-wrecks stinks of de last hotels." The blond commented as he went in, carefully sitting down on the corner of the only queen sized bed.

"ja.. it ams." Toki responded, suddenly feeling shy under the intense sapphire gaze coming from the blond.

Insteed, he focused on the tacky vine pattern of the carpet as he shifted nevarouly.

"Comes here, min lilla Tokis.." the lead guitarist purred in his velvet baritone, patting the space next to him.

"Ah.. okays.." the Norwegian whispered as he complied.

Skwisgaar took the opportunity to reach his long arm around and pull the slightly shivering teen closer to him. He nuzzled his forehead into the other's soft caramel locks, his breath fanning the flushing face of the teen.

"You ams okays, Tokis"

"Norvous."

"Whys?"

"Just ams…"

"Its be okays."

With that, Skwisgaar pulled the smaller man down against the tacky motel bedcover, before turning on his side to stare at his Norwegian counterpart. Deft pale hands tucked a stray lock of chestnut hair back behind the delicate shell of the teen's ear.

The same ear that found itself nipped gently.

Toki let out a soft little moan.

Skwisgaar chucked as he pulled away to stare at his rhythm guitarist. Toki's pale gray-blue eyes were dark with desire, the pupils impossibly fat. He smirked as he leaned back down to nip that damnable ear again, this time harder, earning a sharp intake of breath.

"Skwisgaar.."

It sounded like a prayer on those soft baby lips.

The blond captured petal-soft lips with his own before nudging them open to plunder their hot depths. Toki's tongue tentatively touched his own pillaging one before all was lost.

Skwisgaar felt like the bottom dropped out of his stomach, his eyes searching the other's intently. Yes, he was lost. He smiled warmly into the crook of Toki's neck before nuzzling into it. He inhaled deeply, finding himself aroused at the scent of Toki's sweat, and that damn berry shit he used. It was a maddening combination of brutal masculinity hand-fasted to delicate femininity that drove the poor blond mad with lust.

"Tokis.." the blond murmured into the sensitive crook on the neck, just below the ear. His free hand was already sliding up under the sweat-stained shirt, gliding along hard abs. He bit down again, loving the sensation of firm flesh between his teeth.

"Ah.."

"Takes off you shirt."

Toki's face broke into a grin, as he jumped up to comply, the sweaty shirt fluttering to the floor.

The music changed again to a slow, breathy song that, despite not being metal, suited the mood perfectly. Deftones might not be a band that Skwisgaar would ever admit to liking, but damn, it was good music to fuck to.

I watched you change

I looked away

You were on fire

I watched a change

In you

Skwisgaar lounged on the bed, looking for all the world like a indolent princeling as the younger man began to shuck off his clothes. It was amusing and charming at the same time, the way the young Nord grinned innocently while he was perversely standing naked and aroused before him. His thick, heavy member was arching up eagerly against that finely muscled stomach. A tiny pearl was perched at the very tip of that slightly pink head, making the older mans' mouth water. It looked so fucking delicious.

It's like you never had wings

Now you feel so alive

I've watched you change…..

"ah.. Tokis..come here..I wants to makes dis gooders for yous." He breathed, flashing a winsome smile at the trembling kid before him.

Toki carefully crawled into his Swedish counterparts slender arms, his whole body trembling with nervous desire. He nuzzled his head under Skwisgaar's and nipped at the ivory flesh he found there.

Skwisgaar rubbed his hands down Toki's arms, trying to smooth down the gooseflesh. He made a slight frown. Was he doing the right thing? Not that the blond ever bothered his pretty head too much about doing the right thing before, but here he was.

"Shhh.. Tokis.." he murmured, pressing hot open-mouthed kisses along the young man's face. He traced from his hair line, over those sharp cheek bones, down to that strong line of his jaw. Kisses danced lightly over the wider bridge of the Norwegian's nose, before nipping playfully at the end.

Toki barely suppressed a giggle as he relaxed against the older mans ministrations. Skwisgaar pressed his rhythim counterpart onto his back, drinking in the sight of his protégé's member weeping onto that flat plain of stomach before him.

I took you home

Set you on the glass…

Teasing touches flitted from collarbone, down to the sternum, then skirted around those pebble-hard dusky disks. The little Norwegian was writhing under his counterpart's ministrations, making pathetically cute mewling noises in his throat, his eyes scrunched up tight.

Skwisgaar smiled, trailing down each tan leg, before getting to the feet, which he tickled lightly, delighted in seeing those pale baby-blue eyes pop open as the brunet man giggled at him.

"Skwis.. stop.." he laughed as the blond turned his attention to the other foot.

Skwisgaar Skwigelf was nothing but a considerate lover.

He skirted around the straining erection, watching in amusement as the poor kid arched his hips in vain to get closer to the creeping hand. A dark chuckle came from the lead guitarist before he lightly trailed a single finger down the turgid flesh. Hard abs constricted, arching the teen's hips up, encouraging.

Skwisgaar wrapped his hand around before lowering his head to lap gently at the delicate pink tip.

Toki keened as the other man slowly engulfed him fully in his mouth, the sensation surprisingly hot for someone who looked like an Ice King.

"Gah… Skwisgaar… stop…ahh….teasing me.." the caramel haired man breathed, caught between a sob and a prayer.

"In goods time, Tokis.. I makes dis goods fer joos.." the blond smirked as he pulled off the teen's cock with an obscene slurping sound.

As Skwisgaar worked Toki over, his free hand sought the nightstand drawer, blindly seeking the lube. He had purposely asked the damnable mad berry-head to "stock" his room for such occasion. He could only hope the fucking rabid leprechaun complied to his request for lube and other… items.

He was not disappointed.

His hand found a bottle of high-quality, long lasting lube, which he deftly opened with a single flick. He squirted a generous dollop of the clear gel before lightly circling the young man's opening.

"Ah… cold."

"Sorries.."

The lead guitarist massaged the tight starburst of flesh as the younger man relaxed under his touch. Carefully, Skwisgaar prepped him, sliding a single digit into his tight heat while he placed kisses along Toki's sharp hip bones.

"How you feels?"

"Full.." the brunet breathed

"Goods..de best ams yet to comes.." the blond smirked against Toki's hip, wiggling his fingers within the younger man

"Dat.. feels weird."

"Good weirds or bad weird?"

"Ah! Goods.. "

Soon, Toki was slick and pliant, his flushed hole seeming to suck eagerly at the slender digits nestled within.

Skwisgaar stood up, wiping his hands down on a stray washcloth (conveniently located near where the lube was) and started to undress himself with shaky hands.

"Tokis.. you ams so beoteyfulls." He sighed as his hands hooked around the jeans, sliding them down.

Toki looked up at his guitar god, his pale eyes hungrily caressing every inch of pale alabaster skin, trailing all the way down to that perfect member that was arched tautly up against the man's slender torso. Pale, glacier blue eyes locked onto sapphire, and it felt like the world had stopped.

Everything outside of themselves ceased to exist, or matter.

The lanky blond crawled onto the bed, nestling beside his counterpart, tracing comforting strokes along the goose bumped flesh. Toki was still trembling, and he couldn't help but admit, it was adorable.

Here I lay

{Still and breathless}

Just like always

{Still I want some more..}

The music playing suited the mood perfectly-he would have to ask the fucking lepercuan to burn him a copy.

He kissed Toki's soft, berry-scented skin as he crawled up his body before rolling his hips against the narrow ones below his. Turgid flesh rubbed against each other, sparking desire into a full-fledged flame.

"Tokis..min lilla Toki.. ams you readies…?" Skwisgaar breathed against the other's lips as he rubbed the swollen head of his ivory rod against the puckered entrance of the teenager.

"Jas.. I wants to feel you does it.."

"I donts wants to hort joos..Relaxs.."

Toki squeezed his eyes shut as he felt the hot press of flesh breach that sensitive star burst of flesh, and felt himself opening up to Skwisgaar. It was wholy alien in sensation-and hot. Skwisgaar might have been the Ice King, but his probing cock felt smoldering within his tight confines.

Skwisgaar let out a shuddering breath, his tip barely in, allowing the smaller body below him time to adjust before carefully inching in a bit more.

He looked down at his little Nord, and felt heat blossom in his core. Caramel locks fanned out against the stark white motel sheets, and the scrunched up look of the younger man's face was adorable. Toki was biting his lip, and his eyebrows were arched up in that lost puppy-dog way of his.

"shh.. Toki.. you feels amazings. So tight, warms..You feels so good.."

Skwisgaar propped up himself on one elbow, comforting the man beneath him. A passion-warmed hand caressed his cheeks, slightly startled to find a fat tear at one corner of his eye.

"Amest I hortings joos? You tell me if joo want or need stopings."

"No. I wants dis.." came the wrecked sob as he rolled his hips against the older mans, nudging him slightly deeper.

Skwisgaar sighed as he got sheathed to the hilt, now officially balls deep within his rhythm guitarist.

Valhalla at last.

Toki was trying to breath as shallowly as possible. The feeling was too intense for proper words. He felt impossibly stuffed. On one hand, it hurt like hell, even after all the prepping, and he couldn't tell if he wanted to throw up, shit or start crying like a baby. Perhaps all at once. It was all too much. On the other hand, it felt amazing. The pain was starting to slowly dissipate and he was becoming accustomed to the sensation of overwhelming fullness with it in. He could practically feel Skwisgaar's heart beat throbbing in his cock.

He was finally doing it. He used to try to imagine what sex would be like (always with a girl, well-maybe a boy) but those thoughts paled in comparison to having nearly eight and a half inches of Guitar God with in him.

It was both something outrageously filthy and beautiful at the same time. Something holy and sacred, and special, coupled with shame, disgust, and the forbidden.

Briefly, the face of Aslaung Wartooth flashed beneath his eyelids, unbidden. His religious father would die of shame to see him here, in a cheap motel room, letting a Swedish guitarist fuck him up the ass like a common whore. The word 'ass-rager' came to mind.. but, dissipated as his face was tickled by a stray lock of flax and gold hair.

I'm your passenger..

His eyes flew to Skwisgaars and he was taken back by the soft expression on those sharp, noble features. His eyes were dark with lust, and the way those golden eyebrows were ached made him seem more like a god claiming him then any mere mortal.

"Shhh.. Toki… you ams doing great." He crooned before minutely rocking his hips into Toki's tight heat, before withdrawing just as slowly, tell he was nearly all the way out. The Nord's ass was wrapped tightly around his cock, and it felt perfect.

Skwisgaar started rolling his hips more eagerly as he felt Toki's hips to meet his thrusts. The Norwegian threw his head back as the blond hit a certain spot inside him.

It felt like sparks, going all the up his spine to his brain, and he wiggled slightly, trying to urge the man above him to go faster…deeper, anything to hit that spot.

"Ah…gods, Toki.."

"its feeling good now.."

The blond rested his weight on his elbow and snaked his free hand around the bobbing member of the teen below him, stroking him in time with his thrusts as he tongue-fucked him.

He could feel himself getting close to coming, but he wasn't before he made sure that his young (and possibly illegally so) lover got off first. He had to make it good for him.

He tilted his hips in such a way that he kept hitting that sweet spot nestled within the young man, making him sob in frustration.

"Ah.. gods, just does it….alreadies.." Toki whined as Skiwsgaar pulled off slightly from him. It was that knife-edge before bliss, and if he could just go…

Skwisgaar was rutting against him, relishing in the sweet tight slide as Toki threw his head back. He tightened his grip as the brunet mewed helplessly. It was impossibly adorable and endearing.

He kept up his face until Toki let out a straggled cry, crunching up his face as he coated the blond's hands and their stomach's with his thick seed.

As he came the Nord clenched down and pulsed around Skiwsgaar, and he quickly toppled over the edge, coming in thick, powerful spurts within the rhythm guitarist.

It felt monumentous, and perfect.

He nuzzled against Toki's sweaty forehead, and brushed away some strands of hair that were sticking to his face.

"wowie…" the teen said quietly

"ja.. joo ams alrights..? Not hort?"

"sore.. but good.."

"I pulls out mine dick now.. might short a bits.." Skwisgaar grumbled, furrowing his brow

He pulled out, planting a kiss as he did so, before moving to the bathroom to start the shower.

'Jos comings?" the blond smirked over his shoulder

"Pfftt.. whos wouldns't want shower wit' de Skwisgaar Skwigelf.."

Together they cleaned each other off, playfully soaping each other off with berries and cream scented body soap before drying off each other's bodies.

Later, the Swede held Toki close to him, resting his chin on the top of the younger man's kitten soft hair as Toki nuzzled his face into the other's long neck.

Together they drifted off to the scent of berries and sex.

AN/ Please clean off you keyboards. No one likes sticky keys..