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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
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- 6
Nathan wasn't reading.
He'd finished his cereal, and picked up the book, fully intending to finish the whole damn thing before ever leaving his room. But after spending a good twenty minutes staring blankly at the same page, absorbing nothing on it, he put it down in frustration. He couldn't focus on anything with this thought lurking in the back of his head. It seemed he had no choice but to haul it out of the shadows and take a good, hard look at it.
It was a moment his brain had grabbed onto from earlier in the day, refusing to let go no matter how much he didn't want to think about it, compounded with other moments from the day before. They all grouped together, sticking like bits of lint to form a giant ball, a huge looming concept that Nathan felt he was unprepared to deal with. Frankly, that thought concerned him.
He focused on it.
It was Charles' sleeping face from when he'd rolled off the couch, caught looking so unaware and so very human. It was the look on his face when Nathan's eyes met his shortly after, a moment that evaporated before either could be sure it was real at all. His rumpled expression upon being forced into Nathan's shirt, and the glint in his eye as he told a story over a glass of beer. The way he avoided Nathan's eyes when he explained that he was gay, obviously thinking he'd be judged - caring what Nathan thought. The way he fell asleep on a bed that wasn't his and looked so peaceful. And a drop of water...
Fuck. Too much, Nathan thought abruptly. The enormity of what it all added up to, what it all felt like to him, to someone not nearly as stupid as people thought he was... it was big. The whole thing was too big even for him. He felt like it was out of his hands - and this made him helpless to it.
"This sucks," he muttered, propping his head in his hands. "Fuck."
The last thing he wanted to do was approach Charles on the subject. Well, that wasn't entirely true; he wanted to talk to him at length about it, or as at length as he discussed anything aloud. But he also wanted to run screaming from him when the idea of actually doing that surfaced, and so he resolved not to do it at all. He was enjoying getting to know Charles, and had hoped to continue doing it for longer than just two days. This... would ruin it. He couldn't let it happen.
It was so fucking hard to ignore, though!
Nathan didn't 'connect' with anybody. He hadn't ever, really. it was difficult for him to do. So, when he'd found himself observing Charles, physically as it were, he hadn't made anything of it at first. There was just something curious about the man that made him want to look and look until there wasn't anything left to see but things he was intimately familiar with. When it occurred to him that it was unusual, that it was somewhat related to - though not the same as - the way he wanted to drink in the appearance of a beautiful woman, that was when he realized there was a problem. His manager wasn't supposed to summon the word "cute" to his lips, but he did.
That was weird. That was something Nathan was wholly unprepared to handle. He wasn't even sure he wanted to handle it. Flustered, he decided a shower was probably in order; it would calm his nerves a bit. Besides, he did some of his best thinking in the shower.
Before he could actually go into his bathroom and do that, a knock came at the door. He answered it warily, wondering if Murderface or Toki had come to fucking bother him again. To his surprise, it was actually Charles; dressed once again in one of his numerous identical suits and looking like the normal CFO he was familiar with - or unfamiliar with, as the case may be.
"Hey."
"I thought you might want this back," Charles said, holding out a small bundle. "That's all."
He was gone before Nathan could even respond, which made the singer frown. Looking at the object he'd been given, he found it was one of his own shirts... oh. It was the shirt he'd made Charles wear the night before. Nathan inhaled a little before shutting the door, a smell of freshness lingering in the air where Charles had been standing. Apparently he was not the only one who had felt like a shower... damn, but that was a good smell, he thought.
Returning to his initial task of cleaning himself, he went to the shower and fired it up to a decent temperature. He tossed the shirt on the counter, shedding the clothes he was wearing and leaving them on the floor in a heap. For some reason his eyes kept tracking back to the folded shirt, mentally connecting the item with the delicious smell Charles had left in the hallway and in his mind. Was that really coming from him, just because he bathed? Why had Nathan never noticed? It was ridiculous. He couldn't possibly walk around smelling that good, all the time.
He relaxed, stepping under the hot water and wincing as it stung him a little. The initial discomfort was worth it; he liked his showers hot, as hot as he could stand them. It just helped him think better, and made him feel cleaner. Nathan realized he was looking at his shirt again, but not actually thinking about the object itself. He was thinking about Charles, and he didn't need to be doing that any more than he could help it. It would cause problems.
In fact, it already was.
Nathan glanced down at himself, embarrassed though he was alone. 'Come on now, really?' he thought, willing the half-erection to vanish and not be seen again in the company of thoughts like those. It was just the damn scent from the man, it lingered in his head like the smell of a food he desperately wanted to eat. Almost like it was still in the room with him, but it wasn't.
'Even if it was,' he reminded himself, 'it's Charles. And Charles is a guy. Charles is also my friend. This is inappropriate.'
The thought itself was so very unlike himself, so very Charles-esque that he laughed the moment he had it. It was just like something the manager would have said. Inappropriate. Wasn't he supposed to disregard what was appropriate, anyway? He was a musician, it was sort of his job.
Hmm.
The hot water wasn't helping him think. At all. In fact, it was only facilitating his lack of thought, the heavy mist in his brain that swirled only around the very concept of Charles. He wouldn't ever know, Nathan reasoned, if I thought about him like this. That I think about him like this. It's not like he can read my mind.
You'd know, he reminded himself. You'd fucking know.
Nathan pushed the thought away, and brought back the earlier one. The one that was all Charles, in form and essence. Distantly he felt like he would regret doing this, but he had to try something to get his head clear. He couldn't think about anything with Charles on the forefront of his mind like this. Had to clear his head... it was really all the justification he needed, at that point, and he wrapped his hand around his cock. The voice in the back of his head disappeared.
He wasn't focusing on any particular image. There were certain ones that were more vivid to him, that rose up in his mind as being more important, but there were many things going on. That scent was there, in his head, the culprit that started this whole new issue for him in the first place. Nathan incorporated the scent with a moment from the previous day; looming over his manager, feeling an odd moment pass. The way his lips had been parted as he looked up at Nathan, eyes lidded a bit more heavily than normal, but no less focused on him...
Bracing his other arm against the shower wall, Nathan tried not to think about what he was actually doing. It wasn't hard. Nothing, then, was about how he actually touched himself, about how fast or how hard, or about how close he was. His whole head was a fog of Charles. It overwhelmed him with intensity, far more than he'd thought it would coming into it, and he let it take him. Why the fuck not, he thought distantly. Why the fuck not.
He didn't think about Charles as he had been when returning the shirt, back in his suit and his polite, plastic demeanor. He wanted casual Charles, Charles in his clothes, or his bedclothes, or no clothes... fuck, what a thought. Nathan didn't let his brain go quite that far, still feeling edgy about it, even though without his bidding a million images were racing through his head. That grain of control was false, and he knew it, since the moment he'd thought it, he'd gone too far. There was too much emotion, too much sensation, for him to keep tabs on at that moment. He saw, in his head, Charles' face when he'd swiped away the speck of water from his lips, and remembered how soft that mouth had felt under his thumb.
It was why he'd left the room at that moment, feeling so unsettled, and it came out then as he left his thoughts unguarded. Conjured visuals of Charles looking up at Nathan from between his knees, still with such a quizzical expression, and that same mouth...
That was all it took. Nathan came hard, feeling overwhelmingly relieved and guilty at the same time. The shower took away the evidence of what he'd done, but he still knew. Just as he'd warned himself before it had happened, just as he'd feared, he knew.
Every time he looked at Charles after this, he would know. He would remember that he had done this.
"Oh, fuck."
- 4
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- 6
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Parabola