Robot Ninja's are Confusing
Disclaimer: Metalocalypse and Dethklok belong to people who are not me. I am making £0.00 out of this fic; it is written purely because this idea wouldn't leave me alone.
Authoress note: Charles and Nathan come to a realisation.
For all my reviewers, who without I would have surely given up a long time ago.
Chapter One
Charles Foster Ofdensen was well known for his skill in negotiation. He could talk kings, queens, business moguls and assassins around to his way of thinking. All he had to do, at least in his own opinion, was explain things clearly and concisely. People often saw reason when things were explained clearly to them. Those who couldn't understand after careful explanation were at risk of being eliminated. In that respect, at least, Charles found 'People' easy.
But Dethklok were not people.
The band, his boys, were stubborn and too foolish to be convinced of something just because it made sense and they were too bold to be bullied. Though these days Charles found that the thought of bullying his boys left a sour taste in his mouth.
His usual way of dealing with them was bribery. He had thrown money, girls and mind-altering substances at them, all to get them to behave themselves. Sometimes it worked and sometimes it did not. He'd worked with them for years in a never-ending frustrating spiral of bribes and badgering.
Then one day, he finally figured out what it was they wanted from him. It was so simple that it annoyed him he hadn't realised it earlier, but so uncharacteristically wholesome that it also amazed him that he'd figured it out at all.
They wanted to 'pal around'.
They wanted to be his friend. Despite all their bullshit, their insults, and the casual violence, they wanted him to like them. Charles wondered if this was how girls felt when boys pulled on their pigtails.
He had always cared about the boys, but at some point, in their journey that had changed, they had stopped being 'the band', or 'the boys' and had become his boys. He couldn't put a finger on the moment it had happened. The change had been an insidious creeping thing. It had burrowed inside of him until it was so intertwined with his innermost self that he neither could nor wanted to remove it.
He liked it when Pickles would appear in his office door, bottle in hand, to complain about his brother or mother in a way that he never did with any other (especially when Pickles found out he liked brandy and the bottle he brought was always brandy). Charles delighted in the way Toki would enthusiastically share his models with him (one such model sat on Charles' desk, pride of place). He enjoyed the way William's face would light up when he showed he knew some obscure civil war fact. It pleased him when Skwisgaar would ask him about his father and sit quietly in his company afterwards, contemplating a deep emotional wound that probably would never heal. It was something to treasure being a friend and confidant.
Then there was Nathan.
Charles had always had a soft spot for Nathan. The man was handsome, broad shouldered and strong. There was no denying his physical aspect was pleasing, and Charles remembered in the early days of their contract that he had sworn to himself he would not even try to indulge himself. This promise became easy to keep when Nathan was loudly and publicly vocal about his disdain for men, at least in a sexual sense. Yet he still favoured Nathan, using his own power, be it physical or verbal, to keep him safe. He enjoyed the little smiles he would get when he blocked a punch meant for Nathan's face, the occasional kind word or chuckle at a joke he'd made.
But then things changed.
Charles fought the Half-Man to keep Toki and Skwisgaar safe. He'd not given it any thought, but apparently the tale of his heroic rescue had touched Nathan deeply. Ever since the afternoon Nathan had joined him in the gym (and Charles had knocked him on his arse) something between them changed. Charles couldn't say what that was, but Nathan watched him more, spoke to him more, and seemed to enjoy him more.
Then Charles had died.
He'd left his boys for 9 months and that had hurt all of them, but it had cut Nathan deeply. The front man had barely spoken to him afterwards. But then they were attacked at the gig by the Half-mans associates. Nathan had come into the fire to pull him out. That act alone would have changed their dynamic somewhat. Nathan had foolishly risked his life for Charles. But before Charles had a moment to process that, he discovered something perhaps even more impactful about Nathan.
Nathan had a kink.
A kink that involved Charles.
Nathan got off on him, hurting people.
He didn't think Nathan understood it himself yet, but it was very apparent to Charles. Nathan enjoyed watching him 'work'. Enjoyed it to where he would ask for the recordings. It was always under the guise of music videos this and inspiration that, but it was obvious when none of the footage turned up in the videos that Nathan was building a personal library. Charles started embracing creative information retrieval techniques and sought opportunities to use them.
He thought he'd be happy with that. Happy knowing that Nathan was getting something out of spending time with him. He wasn't going to push for more; he was going to be professional, at least 90% of the time. But then Nathan changed again, almost to spite Charles and his promise to himself.
Nathan started asking to 'spar' with Charles. To get a feel for a smaller but still threatening opponent. At least, that was what Nathan said. But Charles was suspicious. He wondered if Nathan had figured out that Charles was gay and was aware of his attraction to him. Was this some ploy to expose him? But no, it rapidly became apparent that it wasn't.
Charles was not a psychologist, but he could read people. He knew Nathan well, well enough to promptly notice that Nathan had no malicious hidden agenda in this case. Nathan was just so far into denial that he might come out the other side.
When they fought, Nathan would deliberately miss his footing, or fumble a blow or a hold. He'd fuck up something so basic that it made Charles roll his eyes. That missed footing, blow, or hold would give Charles a massive opening, one that Charles always took. Nathan would end up on the floor, either pinned under Charles or flat on his back, waiting to be pinned.
Charles wondered if in those moments when he'd pinned the larger man if Nathan was thinking about the last person Charles had tortured. If he was imagining himself at Charles' mercy, or if perhaps his mind was somewhere else entirely. It didn't anger Charles that Nathan perhaps didn't take him seriously as an opponent. But it frustrated the fuck out of him when he found himself wondering if Nathan was thinking about being at Charles' mercy and his own mind wondered to the idea of chaining Nathan to a bed. These 'sparring' sessions were rapidly losing their allure and instead becoming annoyingly frustrating.
"You did that on purpose," Charles jeered when Nathan made another obvious mistake. He deliberately avoided taking advantage of the mistake, instead pulling back.
"No." Nathan grunted, making an obvious swipe at his manager. Sweat dripping down his face.
"Do you want me to beat you?" Charles snapped. Nathan flushed red through from embarrassment or something else Charles couldn't tell.
"No." Nathan said again, but with more heat. Charles ducked under a swipe and got in close.
"I don't believe you." He landed a few light blows and darted out again. Nathan made a sound of irritation and closed the distance between them.
"You should." He grunted, actually landing a hit. The blow hit Charles like a steam train and the manager had to blink to clear his vision. Nathan didn't respond well to jeers, apparently. Charles couldn't help himself.
"Convince me." He kicked out at Nathan, who dodged the blow, something he normally wouldn't do. Charles raised an eyebrow and smiled. Nathan met his smile with a grin and darted around him faster than he usually moved in these sessions. Charles turned, but before he could manage a full turn, Nathan had crouched and swept his legs out from under him.
Charles landed flat on his back with the wind knocked out of him. This was the first time Nathan had knocked him down. It impressed him. But before he could give voice to the praise or even gather his bearings and get the hell off the floor, Nathan was on him. The front man caught his wrists in a vice-like grip and pinned him down.
Well, shit.
Charles twisted, trying to dislodge the hold, and Nathan's heavy body came down on him, pressing firmly. Charles froze with keen awareness as Nathan's hips came down firmly between his thighs. Nathan's face was only inches away as he smiled in triumph.
"I got you." The front man hissed. Heat flushed through Charles and without thought, he parted his thighs further, nearly groaning as the other man's pelvis pressed more firmly against his own.
"Well done," he whispered, fighting the urge to flex his hips.
Nathan flushed a deeper red, his pupils suddenly blown. If Charles didn't know better, he'd be expecting the other man to close the distance between them and kiss him. But Nathan did nothing. He kept his hold firm, but he didn't move any closer. Charles was struggling to breathe. The weight of the front man and the tight grip on his body were both wonderfully restricting but also depriving him of oxygen.
"Nathan." His voice came out breathy and quiet. Nathan's eyes unfocused, his eyelids fluttered shut and Charles felt 'something' hard twitch in the front man's trousers. Fuck.
"My Lord." The klokateer picked the worst fucking moment to interrupt. Nathan moved up fast and smooth, leaving Charles dumfounded on the floor before offering a hand. Charles took it and let Nathan pull him to his feet.
"Yeah, what?" Nathan's voice sounded like gravel.
"Apologies for the interruption." The Klokateer dipped his head. "But the Lords, they are growing impatient. Tonight is the night for the arrangement."
Oh, shit. Charles had forgotten.
Part of his new agreement with the boys was that once a month he'd go out with them to 'pal around'. He would have kicked himself had he not had an audience. This month was special as well. He'd booked out a bar, with the express intention of celebrating Nathan's success. He looked at the front man, who was still gloriously flushed and not meeting his eyes.
"Sorry Nathan, I lost track of time. Um…let me grab a shower and I'll meet you at the venue."
"Venue?" Nathan still wouldn't look at him.
"Yes, I uh, I booked out a venue, because we have something to celebrate, or rather, you do." Nathan's flush depended. "You've still not told them about your GED?" Nathan shook his head. "Well then, just say I wanted us to have all the beer for ourselves."
"Thanks." Nathan muttered and practically fled out of the door, leaving Charles alone to get ready.
End Chapter One
Thank you for reading, please review, I'd love to hear what you think of the fic.
For information on published works and upcoming projects, release dates as well as weekly blogs check out www . katiemariewriter . co . uk