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Parabola	By : Ennead Category: +M through R > Metalocalypse > Slash - Male/Male Views: 1106 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Metalocalypse, nor do I make any money off of any of the fan works I create of its characters.

Chapter List
- 9
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- 11
Charles was very much shaken by the events of the night, though he had still enjoyed spending time with Nathan. In retrospect he felt stupid for allowing himself to come so close to letting go, knowing that he had more discipline than that and vowing to exercise it in the future. Surely it couldn't be that hard to resist a man - and a straight man, no less - but it was proving difficult.
He was in bed for once, opting not to spend another night on the couch, and fidgeted under the covers as his thoughts wandered. Nathan really wasn't just a man; he wasn't just anything. No, he was much more than that, more impressive and captivating. His personality was so interesting, shy but kind despite how he might have seemed otherwise, and sharper than anyone else seemed to think he was. That wasn't even to mention his body, which Charles frankly found to be very tempting. He was just so massive, so solid and real, that he made things around him seem lesser in comparison. Charles had always seen that in him, long before he'd ever admitted to himself that he had an attraction to the singer. Nathan had presence.
God, he wanted him.
The bed seemed too large with just Charles in it, though it had only ever held him before. He rolled over on one side and then the other, totally incapable of getting comfortable. Despite being tired, he could not sleep. All he could do was think, and want, and repress it all.
His mind was replaying the scene from earlier over and over, the details as clear as when it had happened. The way Nathan had just pinned him, so easily and seemingly without thought, all that power holding him down. His hips, his arms, his shoulders... shapes Charles was familiar with and parts of the man he wanted to touch, all so close to him. Suspended over him in an almost cruel taunt. Nathan had looked at him intensely then, like for a moment they were on the same page, thinking the same things. Just the thought of it was overwhelming.
Charles frowned, knowing that his reaction to those memories was simply not going to make sleep any easier. It seemed wrong to act on it, though, as if Nathan could somehow find out. As if he could be caught, despite his room being locked and the place being empty except for him.
Nobody would know, if he did...
He shook his head, burrowing further into his sheets and ignoring the prominent arousal that was the result of his mind wandering. It wouldn't make anything better, it wouldn't change how he felt. He wouldn't do it.
Think about work. Think about those fans whose paperwork you have to sift through tomorrow. Think about staples.
Think about large, warm hands, and deep green eyes. Think about long black hair hanging over wide shoulders. Think about well-fitting shirts on a broad chest.
Think about work!
Charles groaned angrily. He was so frustrated, but it seemed so unfair to do anything about it. Though there was no possible way for Nathan to know, the idea of what his reaction would be if he did find out was awful. It was enough to hold him back. He'd just have to ignore it, until it went away.
It was going to be a long night.

*********

Nathan fell backwards onto his bed as soon as Pickles left, feeling even more wrecked than he had before. False hope on top of the frustration was the last thing he needed, and it just made him angry. Hopeful, but angry all the same.
His head was spinning with all kinds of thoughts. He felt inadequate, but wanted to believe Pickles at the same time. He wanted Charles, but also felt bad for not putting the other man's feelings before his own desire at all times. He felt turned on by memories of the parking lot, but guilty as hell for putting Charles in that situation. It was like being a teenager all over again, not knowing which fucking way was up.
What he wanted to focus on was showing Charles he cared. Pickles had assured him that was the right thing to do, but it was so hard to display that without letting it go too far. The line between caring and loving was thin, and he didn't want to slip over it in his behavior. Charles would probably notice, and that would be bad.
It was a strange thought; did he love Charles? Was that what it was? Nathan wasn't really sure, having never loved anyone before. It could be, he supposed, but what the hell would he know about it if it was? And did it really matter what label he put on it? It'd be the same frustrating, maddening feeling no matter what he thought of it as. Love or not, he was stuck with it.
He rolled over onto his stomach, resting his chin and arms on the pillow. Sleep was nowhere near, and all Nathan wanted was not to be awake for a while. Too much time thinking about seriously confusing stuff had left him reluctant to spend time alone, yet being around the guys was a pain in the ass because they would bother him about his time with Charles. He wanted to sleep, to get away from reality for a little while.
Nathan remembered, with a flood of relief, the bottle of sleeping pills he had somewhere in his bedside table. He'd gotten it from Pickles a while back, for god only knew what reason - he didn't recall and it didn't matter anymore. The fact was that he could get some sleep, and he rooted around frantically for the container. Please don't let me have thrown it away...
"Yes," he muttered, hand closing around a distinct orange bottle. Nathan popped the cap and swallowed two, tossing it back into the drawer and lying down to wait for the much-needed unconsciousness. Maybe the medicine would prevent him from dreaming, and then he wouldn't have to tolerate the disappointment he felt each morning when he woke up alone, dreams of managers in pajamas revealed as mere fiction.
Being awake really was overrated. He thought he might do it less from then on.

*********

It was no good. Charles just couldn't sleep. He was strung too tightly, his mind whirring at a million miles per minute, and though he was exhausted sleep seemed nowhere near. Frustrated, he rolled out of bed and resolved to walk around a little. Some nights, when work was piled up to the point where he worked past a reasonable hour, a nice stroll around the halls would calm him down enough to let him pass out.
He so desperately wanted to sleep. So tired, so stressed. Just wanna sleep.
A glance into the main room showed Charles that Toki had fallen asleep on the couch, watching what was, by that hour, paid programming. He covered the guitarist with a spare blanket and switched off the obnoxious advert, feeling much the nanny as he often did. The boys were forgetful and at times a little useless; Charles imagined them sometimes as large children.
Perhaps that was an odd road to go down; he hid an extremely inappropriate attraction to someone he cared for, yet he thought of that same man also as a child? Charles examined this thought as he wandered the halls aimlessly. Was it just another reason for him to stay away from Nathan? Was he getting his manager's duties tangled up with something else? The band would be largely screwed without him, so it wasn't unrealistic or arrogant of him to recognize that they needed him. They depended on him. Did that make his feelings even more misplaced... or less so?
It was just another confusing piece of the puzzle. So many things grouped together to show him why what he wanted was wrong, but many of those same things could be seen, in a different light, to encourage him. Charles was torn neatly between his job - which he was most accustomed to anyway, of the two - and his desires. He was no longer completely sure that having what he wanted would destroy everything he had worked for, and that baffled him most of all.
Could he really be happy and responsible at the same time?
Internally he knew it didn't matter, because having Nathan was not an option. Whatever internal conflict there was for the singer, he was still straight. No amount of personal problem-solving was going to change that, and Charles was practical enough to realize it. Still, it didn't change that now he was almost angry for not pursuing something he wanted. He felt as if he had been cheating himself for some time and only just realized it.
He hadn't, honestly, just realized it. It may have seemed that way, but he knew better. This was just another one of those things he had repressed, hidden away inside himself for the sake of making things easier and more efficient. Now it had come out with a vengeance, making him feel robbed of time he could have spent enjoying himself. He knew he had done that, knew he had been the one keeping himself away from the rest of the world. Really, Charles had always known this, and he considered this fact as he drew level with Nathan's bedroom door.
Maybe it was time for a change of pace.
- 9
- 10
- 11
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Parabola