Chapter Text
Toki ran off, cheeks flushed and sweaty. God this was embarrassing, why couldn't they just leave his body alone?! Why couldn't they just let him live his life! Pickles, one of the men whom he'd come to greatly respect, having to constantly see him dumb down his own manhood to that of a stupid child. Pickles was probably judging him right now, he would probably never want to talk to him again! Seriously- construction paper dolls?! Glitter Glue?! Kanin had never been so bold before, he normally just stuck to himself and colored quietly, occasionally playing games with the bandmates that weren't too childish, but this was just too much. Toki just had one simple request, one, for Kanin to stay the hell away from his body and shut the fuck up. To sit there quietly and let the adults play, like a good boy. But of course even that simple request was too much for that tilbakestående barn to comprehend. And now Pickles was indulging him as well? Whose side was he on anyways!? The boy would never learn if he was constantly enabled. God, he could completely understand where Auslag and Anja were coming from right now, that boy just never fucking listened.
Toki slammed the door to his room and pulled a locked box from the top of his closet.
He could hear the loud wailings of the child from inside his mind. Good. He wanted him to feel this.
Toki stop! You don't have to do this! We don't have to go through this anymore!
God, her too? She was supposed to be on his side! He was just a disgusting little boy who couldn't listen to and needed to be punished, no one should have sympathy for a man like him.
Toki grabbed the key and shoved it in the lock, turning it with force, he could feel his actions get slower, more rigid, almost as if someone was trying to stop him. Toki had to make this fast, he wouldn't have control for much longer if he didnt speed things up.
*Pop!* The box clicked open, and there it was, the object of his affection. Toki was panting, he wasn't sure if it was from fear or arousal, maybe both? That person from earlier was right, Toki did need this, and this time he wouldn't stop until he was lying dead on the floor. Maybe his soul could still be redeemed. Maybe he could still make it to heaven.
Trembling fingers gingerly touched the whip. She could feel the tears stream down her face as well as her throbbing erection. A screaming in the back of her head, the tortured voice of a small child. God what the hell was wrong with her? With them? How could they- he enjoy something that had caused them so much pain and suffering? A method of torture she could renember hiding with Toki from, years ago, decades ago. Now once again being a threat, and this time from someone she thought she could trust.
Toki always went too far with this shit, she could remember one night when she came back to, pools of blood saturating their tile floors and bruises so large they didn't go away for days. Legs paralyzed for hours from the extent of the physical trauma. Ugly welts that made Agnes grateful that Toki always forced them to wear those stiff jeans. Agnes swore that sometimes the Liten Hare went even harder than Auslaug ever did. One day he was going to kill them with this shit.
She needed help.
The sky was growing dark as Skwisgaar finally decided to call it a day and head to bed. His fingers had gone numb from hours of practice, endlessly strumming the guitar with no clear goal or plan in mind. He held his fingers out in front of his face to assess the damage. Yep, bruised and welted as always, pretty pale fingers discolored with purples and greens. Skwisgaar had a habit of playing so hard and for so long that even his most prized possessions began to suffer, every part of his body, beautiful and untainted besides those long knotted digits. He rubbed his hands together and hissed, blood was leaking from the open sores. No matter, he had a stock of crayon shaped band aids long ago gifted to him by a certain guitarist friend. He never used them however, too embarrassing, but right now, he could use the comfort of something, someone so familiar. God forbid he actually talk to the man, oh no, tonight was his night. He was probably going to spend the rest of this time alone and unbothered, watching My Little Pony reruns while he soaked his muscular yet spindly fingers in ice water, hopefully. A Skwisgaar Skwigelf night, to just relax alone, in peace. One fit for a god, with no hyperactive brunettes in sight to ruin the mood, yep.
Skwisgaar shoved his fingers in his mouth and began walking towards his door, then paused as he heard a shuffling and quiet curse in a far too recognizable language. The lead guitarist slowly turned the doorknob and stepped in as inconspicuously as possible, yet there was no guitarist?
Huh, strange. No matter, it's not like he needed the company right now anyways. It was weird though, he could still hear something. The sound was coming from…his closet? A massive room filled to the brim with the latest boots and his extensive collection of rare guitar pics. He swore to himself, if some little dildo was messing around in his guitar pics he would beat his Norwegian a-
“Oh Tokis youse dirty dogs, I didnts knows youse gots down likes dats?” The brunette turned around, eyes wide, midway through rummaging around through Skwisgaar's “special” bin. There stood that beautiful blonde yet again, hair long and silky, boots shining, looking like they had been freshly cleaned and polished, likely after that particularly bloody incident from earlier. And best of all, that smug know it all smirk.
“If youse wants to borrows my gears, you cans just a- oomf!” Skwisgaar was nearly thrown off his feet as the woman threw her arms around him in a tight hug, instantly melting into the Swedes body and sobbing intensely.
“Oh! Tokis youse donts have to crys, I amnst mads that youse sneak through my stuff, youse does it all the times anyways.” Skwisgaar stood stiffly, not exactly sure what to do with the random show of affection. Verbal reassurance he supposed? He was still trying to figure out how to show love.
“Just eughh- ask next times.” The rhythm guitarist's arms wrapped around him tighter, it was feeling slightly suffocating, but…well needed? The sobs continued however, with an even louder intensity. Unfortunately for Skwisgaar, there was no magic phrase to make someone's pain instantly disappear. Why was life so hard?
Skwisgaar reached out a hand and began rubbing the others back, stealing a move he had seen Pickles do earlier. He didn't know what this was all about, but he knew he needed to be there for him.
The younger guitarist eventually stopped crying and looked up. “Skwisgaar, if I ever ask youse for dis, dont gives it to me, ok?” Skwisgaar's eyes widened as the brunette's soft hands gently placed a well worn 8 inch bullwhip into his own. That was a little odd, Skwisgaar never took him for the type.
“Euggh, I means youse didnt asks mes in de forst place but okeys, …eughh, whats dis alls about anyways?” They now sat together on the floor of Skwisgaar's disgustingly huge closet, Skwisgaar gently combing his fingers through the young woman's hair. He knew that they always found this soothing.
“...I donts know whats wrongs with mes Skiwsgaar, I seriously dont know.”
This was a perfect time for Skwisgaar to make a jab at the other guitarist, There ams a lots wrongs wit youse you little dildoes. But he could tell by the somber tone that this wasn't the time.
“What ams you thinks ams wrong with youself, Liten Hare?”
The brunette blushed despite herself, she loved that nickname, and she hated herself for loving it. She hated it all.
“I thinks my brains ams too full, deres so much goingks on I cans barelys concentrate sometimes.”
“...”
“Dat littles dildoes rhythms guitarist? I knows youse hate him, I hates him too, he gets on my nerves so much I wish I could get rid of him forever!”
“...Toki…you means youself? Toki I donts hates you- youse knows dat rights? I amnst hatingks you at all! I ams just hatings de ways youse pla- well, de way you donts play.”
The Norwegien paused and fiddled with the hem of her shirt, lips pouting as she prepared herself to reveal some serious information.
“...Skwisgaar…dose youse ever…feels like a different persons sometimes?”
“Nopes, wells, yes, sometimes when I gets on de stage or when i’m in front of a lots of bigs groupie sluts, I feels like de gods! But at de end of de days I know it ams still me.”
“I dont think dats true for me Skwisgaar, I thinks I gets stuck in my rockstar personas and I convince myself dat ims not me, dats im not Toki Wartooth. Dats ive been doing it for so longs dat it becomes true.”
Skwisgaar paused in his finger combing. Did he just- or whoever this was- just- ? Skwisgaar wasn't sure if he would ever get a confirmation, or if this would just be a dirty little secret the band would avoid until it settled down just enough to be stomped back in its place. Come to think of it, Toki seemed different right now from the Toki he had known day in and day out for a decade now. A more stern facial expression with a deeper less whimsical voice. They held their body more stiffly then Toki but had an easier time relaxing in the blonde’s arms. Long brunette hair smelling of peaches, arms smooth with neatly trimmed nails, and those pouty lips. Did Toki’s lips always look that full? Or has this different persona used some sort of lip plumper? Skwsigaar wondered what it tasted like.
This “not Toki” seemed so familiar though. Skwsigaar could've sworn he had met this person before, perhaps multiple times. He would love to get to meet her again.
However, it felt like a betrayal of trust, to know something so intimate about the rhythm guitarist, especially without hearing it from the man's mouth himself. He wanted to wait until he heard a confession, wait, was this a confession? He had to make sure.
“Toki, what ams youse tryings to say?”
“DAT IMS NOT FUCKING TOKIS WARTOOTH! Gods Skwisgaar!” The brunette had suddenly whipped…her? Head around to face Skwisgaar with annoyed desperation.
Skwisgaar paused. “What ams you means by dis…err…Toki…dats youse not de reals Toki or somethingks, dats youse imposter?”
“Stop calls me dats! Stop calls me by dats name! I ams reals and I amnst Toki! Amnst not!” The person shook their head frustratedly, hands clenched at their sides, huffing from overwhelming emotions.
“Not Tokis, I thinks I ams knowings what youse saying.”
The woman looked up in confusion. How could he possibly know what she meant?
“You kind off feels like youse ams Toki, but not reallies, because youse amnts, youse ams…youse owns.”
Huh, maybe he did understand.
“Hows youse know, hows youse know how I feel?!”
“You ams maybes- havings a splits personalities?”
“...Ams not a personality…I ams a real person.”
“I gets it Tokis.”
“DATS NOT MY NAMES-!”
“OKEYS DENS “NOT TOKIS” WHAT IS YOUSE FUCKING NAME DEN?! SPITS IT OUT!”
The woman looked down nervously and twiddled with her fingers.
“I goes by de names Agnes.”
Skiwsgaar was silent for a moment, wishing he had his guitar to strum to ease the tension, fucked up fingers be dammed.
“ I wasnt expectings youes to- wells- I guess it ams official.”
“Ams officials? What ams dat mean?”
“It means I ams haves to officially introduces myself Agnes, I ams Skwisgaar Skwigelf, best guitarst in de worlds, somethingks of a gods, and it ams nice to finally meets youse.” He held his hand out, Agnes taking note of the half dried blood encrusting the fingers.
Agnes could feel her cheeks glow red, finally being acknowledged by a man she held so dearly in her heart made her feel so elated she felt like she could die, hopefully not though. She wanted to enjoy this moment as long as she possibly could.
Agnes shook his hand enthusiastically then quickly wiped her own on her pants. “Yes of course, we knows all about youse, Toki ams never shutting ups about “de guitar god.””
“Reallys? Toki? He ams always talking about mes?”
“I guess you could say dats he ams obsessed, just hims though, the rest of us have things to do.” That was a lie, Agnes was just as obsessed, if not more, than Toki, but when in doubt, pinning your embarrassing traits on another alter never failed.
“Dats umms, eughh, it ams a bit weirds havings a fans dats I donts hate from de bottoms of mys heart.”
“Yeah umms, yeah...”
A fan? She had never considered herself to be a fan. Both her and Toki were a bit obsessive, yes. With Toki spending every waking second of his day starting petty arguments and fights with the lead guitarist just for a crumb of attention, then pushing him away for a sense of control. Agnes hopelessly flinging herself at the Swede at any chance she got, following him around like a lost puppy, doing anything to please him, or be him. Maybe Toki was a- a fan, but she supposed that made her one too.
I hate him! I hate his stupid smug face and his stupid bitchy voice! What's wrong with him? Why can't he just leave us alone?!
He's just trying to get you to do better Liten Hare, maybe if you practiced more-
Oh fuck all the way off! Not you too! You know today he wouldn't let me do a solo for the kitty cats at the hospital?- and he called my fingers fat! Are- are my fingers fat Agnes?
I don’t know Toki, are they? Lay off that shitty sugary cereal for once and you might notice a difference.
Watch it bitch.
No i’m serious, lately we’ve been feeling sick, especially when you eat that sugary stuff. I think we need to pay more attention to our conditions, before another fat hospital bill. Liposuction isn't cheap.
I dont give a fuck about any “conditions”, thats what we have insulin for! I just want to be respected by that stuck up jerk for once in my life!
And I don't want us to get fat, Toki! If we get fat Skwsigaar definitely wont respect us, like that fatty whale fat fuck Murderface.
Leave him alone! He’s just big boned!
Whatever lies he's feeding you.
Urghhh! I hate that asshole so much but I just want to- I just want- I DONT KNOW SOME FUCKING APPRECIATION!
I have an idea to get his attention- but I don't know if you’d like it.
Urghhh…it better not be anything stupid Aggie, but I think I trust your decision making skills, every once in a while.
Of course you would! I have great ideas! All I need is a printing press, a couple million dollars, a translator and some baggies of cocaine.
I know where we can get cocaine!
Fuck no.
“So what we ams goings to do now Agnes? How bouts an autographks, would dats cheers youse up?”
“I knows youse has womens clothes in youse rooms.”
“Whats?! Who tells you dats?! De only person dat knows-. Oh- well, I guess it ams making sense youse knows, considering youse and Tokis…well…” Skwisgaar vaguely gestured towards Agnes' body. Agnes smiled sheepishly.
“Wells I donts knows what to tells you, but it ams just left overs from the groupies…and some kinkies stuff…and some experimentationks I guess.”
“My tops ams all staineds, I cants be walking arounds de haus looking like dis!”
Agnes gestured at her shirt. Clumsy Toki must've spilled something without bothering to change once again.
“Ams goings to be honest T- Agnes, I donts think dats anyones gives a craps whats youse wears.”
Agnes frowned. She just wanted to look good for him. Herself too she supposed.
“Which is whys its amnst a big deals if youse tries on some of de ladies clothes my groupies left overs.”
Agnes had to physically hold herself back from squealing and throwing herself onto the lead guitarist once again. She was going to have fun tonight.
“Hows you thinks about dis Skwisgaar?”
Toki- no Agnes- came out wearing a slightly faded black denim skirt and a slightly too tight black camisole, just ill fighting enough to lift over Agnes’s stomach and show off her and Toki’s hard earned abs. Her hair, of course, tied into a high ponytail.
“It ams…nice, waits, does a little twirls so I can sees how de backs fits.”
Agnes blushed and spun around as Skiwsgaar quickly checked out her ass.
“Yeps, looks goods from de backs too, alls youse needs is some boots, I have somes of mine you cans borrows, from expirimentationks of course.”
Skwisgaar presented her with a plain pair of equestrian riding boots. To the naked eye, they looked the exact same as Skwisgaar's normal boots, but to boot connoisseurs such as themselves, she could tell that this was a high class womens pair, likely costing in the thousands.
“Wow Skwisgaar! They fits perfectlys!” She sighed breathily as she admired the leather boots in Skwisgaar's ornately decorated full length mirror.
“Dats because we ams having de sames shoe size dumbass, you off all peoples should knows dat. Dere, keeps it, it ams lookings goods on youse, and maybe dis keeps you twos from always takings my shit.”
Agnes pouted but she had to admit, she did have a habit of sneaking in to steal Skwisgaar's clothes, mainly his boots. The amount of times Toki had to take the blame for wearing a pair of boots he didn't even realize he had on. Poor Liten Hare, maybe they both needed a ban from digging around in Skwisgaar’s closet.
“Agnes I has to admits, you amnst looking dats bads, considerings who you ams looking identicals to. I never noticed how greats dis body ams looking. Youse…holds it differently. Wears it…differently.” Skwisgaar paused and once again looked the Norwegian up and down. “And in dis outfits you almost looks exactly like me.” Skwisgaar’s cheeks flushed as a slight smirk graced his face
Agnes didn't know whether to be offended or flattered, but she felt that she should take it as a compliment. She blushed as well and looked off to the side.
“Umms, we mays looks identicals, but wes not entirely the same, I cants plays guitars as good as hims, I donts gets enough times out to practice.”
This was a blatant lie, Agnes was on par with Skwisgaar's skills, if not better, spending more than half of her time out actually dedicating their body to their chosen craft. It seemed as if she was the only one who realized how important this was to them, the only one that cared.
The only one who knew what got them out of that shit hole village in the first place.
But if she had to dumb herself down a little bit to satiate the blonde’s self esteem, so be it. Nothing she wasn't used to anyways.
“Well if youse wants to practice sos bads, why donts we do it like de old days and haves…a littles jams session.
The rhythm guitarist's eyes lit up. A jam session, a time of day, usually at night, where the two guitarists met up in the recording room, got as high as kites, and practiced together while chatting about anything and everything under the sun.
“Nej Toki, holds youse hands highers ups, and keep youse backs straighter. Youse wants to look dignitifieds, wese plays guitars, not bass.”
“Hee hee, “Dignitifieds” dats ams funnys words, what means?”
“It means youse ams too goods for dis shits, it means donts dumbs youself downs for no ones, I can sees youse potentials.”
They were some of the most memorable times Agnes had with the man, what had made it so easy for her and Toki to adjust after they had first joined, what made them feel at home, but after a while Skwisgaar had started to change. Getting more nitpicky and stringent with Toki’s and therefore her skills, turning what was supposed to be a relaxed hangout between friends into an intense examination. Eventually Toki stopped showing up, choosing lazing about with his stuffed animals and model planes over being berated and harrassed, and eventually Agnes stopped caring.
It had been years since they had last had one, but now that she had been reminded of how good it felt, at least in the beginning, it was all that she could think about.
“Ams ok wit dats.” More than ok, she was delighted.
“As longs as youse actualllys tries, not like last times, ills get de beers, go gets youse guitar.”
The recording studio was a little chilly. For some reason, it always got colder in the nighttime, and Pickles swore up and down that it was a sign of ghosts. Skwisgaar and Toki never noticed though, more than used to freezing temperatures, albeit for different reasons. Skwisgaar claimed that the electricity often went out in his home and that he had to eat snow when times got tough. And Toki…
And Toki…
No matter, it hardly affected them, and it kept the studio free from any pesky intruders whenever either Scandinavian wanted some peace and quiet outside of their respective rooms. And if it got too cold, well…
They always had each other.
“Hey, donts take offense to dis Agnes, but youse seems alots nicer den dat other ones. As much as I loves dat little dildoes guitarist, he ams always starting shits.”
“Yah, he loves to fucking argue, always pullings shit with me toos, youse not alones.”
“Haha, good to knows I amst get singled out, wit de things he ams dosing, ams surprised that he doesnt hate me.”
“Youse doesnt hate us, and we doesnt hates youse. Youse ams just way to hards on us sometimes, on hims.”
“...sereiouslyks?”
“Seriouslys! Youse dumped blood on me just because I played the wrongs note!”
“Dats was youse? Oops, sorrys, I thought dat was Toki-”
“Wese part of the sames person asshole!”
“...huh…”
“Yeah.”
“...do you think…if I eased up on Toki…he ams be more willings to play?”
“Yes, I dose, he mights even gets betters den youse.”
“Huh, guess dat means I should gets even meaners-ow!” Agnes gave him a swift yet merciful jab at the shoulder.
“Kiddings! Kiddings! I will trys to ease up, ey? Ams sorrys! I miss having dats little dildoes arounds, even with all dat hortfuls stuff hes dose.”
“Yah, on his behalfs, sorrys, and I honestly feels bad for dats shit I did, with dat books.”
“What books-? Noooo, SKWISGAAR IS AMS DICKS?! Dats was youse Agnes?!” Skiwsgaar looked shocked and betrayed. Agnes nodded, feeling ashamed of herself.
“Ams sorry Skwisgaar, youd been horting Tokis so much and I guess Id… only really knews de bads parts of youse relationships, not de goods, and I kinda gots de wrong ideas.”
Skiwsgaar sighed and looked down at his beer, “If ams honest, I had alreadies forgiven youse…two…but it ams nice to hear you apolgisex, ams better dens likes, Nataans or somethinks, hah. Nos, I shouldtns says dat, he ams trying. Here.
Skwisgaar held out his beer, his own version of peace treaty.
Agnes took it, grateful. She had her own, but somehow it tasted better knowing that his lips had touched it.
“Alrights, ams get boreds, lets start playingks, what songs dose you wants to plays?’
“Which song dose you wants to play Skwisgaar?” The rhythm guitarist nervously waited for Skwisgaar’s approval.
Skwisgaar quirked his eyebrow, then shrugged. “Lets do dats first songs, de openings one for ours next concerts? I’ll goes forst and shows youse hows to plays it properly.”
Bold of him to assume that she hadn't practiced the song before, how else did he think that they kept up with him on stage?
Skwsigaar wiped his hands in jeans before grabbing the guitar, face completely neutral as he played a complicated series of notes. It was heaven to Norwegian’s ears, perfect as always, almost uncanny.
The Swede smirked as he noticed Agne’s stare.
“Nots bad rights? Dats because I actually practice. Its youse turns, hopefully youse do betters den dats other guys. No, sorrys, too means.” Skwisgaar took a swig of his beer.
“Wells, ahh, here goes nothingks! Hopes youse likes it!” Agnes closed her eyes and grasped her own Gibson, letting muscle memory do the work.
Skwisgaar raised his eyebrows in surprise. Where the hell did this talent come from? And why had it been hidden from him for so long? Oh…yeah
Skwisgaar picked back up his guitar. As impressed, and proud- ? As he was in the womans shockingly great guitar playing, he knew the Norwegian had a habit of letting his ego get the best of him if he got too confident. At least the one he was most familiar with.
“Ahh, nots bad, betters den whats I usually hears at least, but I thinks youse messed up on dems last couples of notes. Heres, lets me show youse.”
Agnes watched with wide eyes as Skwisgaar began strumming. She knew it was bullshit, she knew that she played that shit perfectly, having spent the past couple weeks making sure that she got the notes perfect for their next show. She didn’t want their skills to slack, they might lose their place in the band and end up on the streets if one of them didn’t at least try.
And yet…
Agnes was entranced by Skwisgaar’s playing. She felt like she was under hypnosis, a daze as she watched him effortlessly strum at his Gibson Explorer. She could pull a Toki, call him out for his bullshit and assert herself, but just getting a chance to receive such direct recognition from a God, her God? She was enjoying this moment too much to ruin it with a petty argument, but something was bothering her.
She grabbed at Skwisgaar's fingers the minute he set the guitar down and examined them closely. “Youse fingers ams all fucked ups, whats- youse been fingerings a cheese graters or somethingks ?”
“Nos I-”
“You evens lost youse prettys nail polish?”
Skwsigaar tried to pull his hand back, but Agnes held firm.
“How de hells youse hand even gets like dis Skwisgaar? Youse not taking cares of dems? Youse needs dem to plays youse knows dats right?”
Skwsigaar sighed, not attempting to pull back his hand again, Agnes had the same muscles Toki had, and apparently the same stubbornness.
“Dey gets like dis sometimes when I practisks too hards. Its nothingks new Agnes, and it doesnt gets in de ways of my playingks. It ams unimportants.”
Unimportant? Unimportant?!
Agnes relinquished the blondes battered fingers and stood up, lifting up her skirt in the process.
“WoahAgnestooso- what- what ams dat?”
A deep lash mark on their inner thigh, barley hidden by her short skirt, speckled and rotten looking, crusted on the edges with puss and blood.
“It ams unimportants Skwisgaar? Because dis de types of shits dat happens to thingks dat ams “unimportants”.
“I didnts- how dids- dids youse evens-?!”
Agnes set back down her skirt and shook her head. “I sees de doctors, buts it was alreadys too lates.”
A certain someone fought tooth and nail to keep them from going. By the time Agnes had finally managed to convince him, it was already too infected for much intervention. Now their already long list of medications was further cluttered by daily antibiotics and wound care. Not like Toki ever bothered to keep up with it anyways. Agnes warned him of sepsis. Toki said he hoped it killed him.
“Sometimes I feels like I am de only ones keeping dis bodys from de brinks of deaths. I donts wants somethingks like dats to happens to you too.” Agnes couldn't have that. Agnes wouldnt have that.
“Agnes…who dose dis too youse? Dids youse trips or somethingks?”
Agnes sighed. She was almost glad Skwisgaar hadn't put the pieces together. It was far too embarrassing.
“Does youse at least haves a routines?”
“Does I haves a- a whats?”
“Youse knows- somethingks to keeps dem cleans- to keeps dem pretties fingers from turnings blacks and fallingks off.” Agnes and Toki valued those Swedish fingers too much to let anything happen to them, almost more than they valued their own life.
“T- Agnes, I donts thinks my cuts ams gets as bad as youse, deys so tinys compareds to- dats, besides, I haves cold water…”
Agnes grabbed Skwisgaar’s wrist and stood up.
“Lets go.” Whas the only clarification Skwisgaar got as she began marching out the recording studio, confused lead guitarist in tow.
“Whys wes in youse rooms?” Skwisgaar looked around awkwardly as Agnes began digging around for something hidden under her mattress.
“Nail polishes.” Agnes turned to Skwisgaar and dangled a bottle of sparkly blue nail polish.
“Eughh, dats cutes and alls, but hows dats ams goingks to fix my fingers?”
“Oh yah!” Agnes quickly dashed off to their tiny bathroom, loudly shuffling around and most likely knocking over at least a couple of supplies judging by the clanging noises, then just as quickly dashing out.
“Ointments! Dis ams what wese youse on de cuts, well, me at leasts. Lets go back to youse rooms so youse can wash youse hands.”
“Cants I just dose it heres.”
Agnes made a strange face and and broke eye contact. “No…lets just use youse bathroomnks.”
“Okeys, just donts get surprised if youse sees somethingks youse donts wants to see.”
Skwisgaar’s bathroom was almost triple the size of Toki’s. Of course it had to be big and extravagant, Skwisgaar had a hard time staying humble, despite how often he nagged Toki about his own ego. It was also littered with…a collection of more adult toys. Nothing Agnes or Toki weren’t familiar with, she just hoped Kanin didn't decide to join the party.
“Bes carefuls touching dem, I dont thinks I cleaneds all of dems yet, heh, I just goes through dems so fast you knows?”
Skwisgaar began washing his hands as Agnes snooped around his medicine cabinet. Smiling cheesily as she spotted something that wasn’t a dildo or a buttplug.
“Youse kept dems!”
“Kepts what- oh, yeah, dose or whatevor.”
Agnes grinned at the crayon bandaid box she had in her hands, feeling a warm fuzzy feeling overtak- not now Kanin goddamn it.
“Hurry up and dries youse hands! I wants to see what youse prettys little fingers looks like in my bandaids!”
The guitarist was now bouncing on the tips of their feet, clearly excited.
“Oh! And wes gots nail polishes too! Dis ams goingks to be sos much funs!”
Skwisgaar patted his hands dry in his towel, eyeing the rhythm guitarist suspiciously after noticing an obvious change in their demeanor.
“Ja, eughh, lets go to my beds, mights be more comfortables dere.”
“Oooo, what ams dis?” The brunette was now curiously examining one of Skwisgaar's 14 inch silicone “toys”, eyes widened innocently as a pointed finger neared dangerously close to it.
The rhythm guitarist felt a firm hand grab at his wrist just as he was about to make contact with the cool new toy with the pretty colors.
“Bed, nows.” The blonde above him sternly ordered.
Skwisgaar’s bed was soft and fluffy, made of something Agnes would compare to a cloud. That made sense, if Skwisgaar was a god, then his bed had to be heaven.
Skwisgaar’s cheeks flushed a light pink as the brunette in front of him carefully turned his hands over in hers, gently working ointment onto his most severe cuts.
Their hands were…so soft. No surprises there, they were rarely used to the same level of intensity compared to his own. It was honestly starting to make him self conscious. He wished his hands could be as pretty as hers.
His prayers were answered as Agnes cracked open the bottle of nail polish, messily streaking over the Swedes fingertips, barely even getting the nail. It was a little ugly yeah, but he found it kind of…endearing.
Agnes noticed the Swede wincing and rubbed the back of her neck shyly.
“Sorries, I donts get a lot of times to pratisks dis, I cans stop if youse want.”
“No it ams ok! I can shows you how to dose it on youse own nails aftors!”
“Wowiees reallys! Yipees dis ams goingks to be so much funs!” The rhythm guitarist bounced his leg happily and stuck out his tongue in concentration, somehow getting even worse at the manicure.
“Eughh…you…did it- good- job…” Skwisgaar examined his barely colored nails in mild horror. His hands looked less like they had just been manicured and more like they had been happily doodled on by a small child, and with the way the brunette expectantly looked up at him with those big, pleading eyes, Skwisgaar was only half sure that wasn't the case. Oh well, part of a healthy relationship is dumbing yourself down, just a little bit, to satiate the other's ego, or something like that. He could just get the rest out with nail polish remover, but he would be damned if he ruined this beautiful moment with a petty argument, as difficult as mustering up a compliment was for a god like himself.
“Sos prettys! Now time for de bandaids!” Agnes? Began happily wrapping Skwsigaar’s fingers up in bandages, beginning to get a little “bandaid happy” and plastering the colorful bandaids all over Skwisgaar’s hands, even where no cuts were in sight. As cute as the guitarist looked right now, pink tongue wiggling as Skiwsgaar’s hands were happily plastered with far more crayon bandaids than necessary, he had to draw the line somewhere.
“Eughh…Agnes…or whoevers…I think dats enough.” Skwsigaar gently pulled his hands away, much to the disappointment of the Norwegian in front of him.
The brunette quickly pouted, then widened their eyes as she came back to her senses.
“Oh…umms…ams sorrys…I thinks we gots a little carrieds away.”
“It ams ok- I think it ams kind of cu-” The guitarist gasped as Agnes kissed his fingers.
“So pretty.” She grinned cheekily and slowly massaged his hand onto her cheek. “Lets take some of dese band aids off, show off youse gorgeous godly hands.”
Skwisgaar wasn't sure it was possible to make taking of bandaids seductive, but something about the way the woman made eye contact with him as she slowly unwrapped the extra crayon bandaids was making his heart beat faster and his head all fuzzy. Who knows, maybe it was just the beer talking? He took the nail polish from Agne’s soft fingers and tried to hide his erection while painting her neatly clipped nails.
They now found themselves back in the recording studio, Agnes feeling far more at peace knowing that Skwisgaar's fingers were well taken care of and at no risk of falling off.
The blonde complained of course, saying that the bandaids got in the way of his playing, but Agnes wasn't having that shit, threatening to tattle on him to the band if he took them off.
Skwisgaar was now rambling on about something guitar related, the man clearly had problems talking about anything else. As much as Agnes cared about the guitar, even she was starting to grow tired of hearing Skwisgaar’s complaints about the most recently released Gibson, which he of course collected in his unnaturally long closet, and anywhere they would fit to be honest. But he was just so pretty when he grew passionate about something, no matter how boring. If only she could freeze this moment and keep it forever.
She scooted her chair closer, just to hear him better, that's all. Skwsigaar paused and took another swig of his drink, handing it to Agnes, who drank it fervently.
Skwisgaar leaned in a bit closer as well, adjusting a strap on her camisole that had fallen down her shoulder.
Agnes could feel her heart beating, the atmosphere was perfect, and she was just so close, so close, to her own god’s otherworldly lips. She knew her other half would most certainly disapprove, such an act with his most hated best friend?! But it was her life too! And who knew when he would let her out next, when she would get this opportunity again. Shit, maybe it was the beer talking, but if she couldn't have a life of her own, then this would be the next best thing.
Skwisgaar’s eyebrows raised as the pretty woman sitting in front of him leaned in, soft pink lips pursed in a desperate attempt at love and bodily autonomy. He could feel his own body lean in, his eyes flutter closed, his own lips copying hers.
But he stopped. Inches away from her face. He couldn't. Not now. It just didn't…feel right.
“Agnes…I cant dose dis…youse just looks too much likes him, and I donts know how he woulds feels.”
The rhythm guitarist paused, staying frozen for a couple seconds with their lips still pursed.
Their eyes fluttered open, with a strange expression. Beginning to scan the room as if completely unaware of any proceeding events.
“...Tokis?”
Toki, felt different. A warm giddy elation warming his bones from the bottom up. It was weird. He wasn't sure if he had ever felt a feeling like this before, and he was even less sure if he liked it. But something was off. For one, he was way too close to his rival/best friends/idols face, for two, his legs felt awfully cold.
He looked down, and to his horror, was wearing a fucking skirt.
That fucking slut! He had just told her not to do shit like that in public! And in front of Skwisgaar of all people?! To embarrass himself like this in front of his idol, the lead guitarist must be as disappointed in him as he was in himself. But how could Agnes get like this without Skwisgaar pushing her away? Did Skwisgaar help her? Was that why they were currently so close together? And why were his lips puckered? No, there was no way that-. Oh god…he felt sick.
Tokis face was pale as his eyes darted around nervously, he looked like he was going to have a panic attack.
“Tokis youse ok! Nothings ams happenings between us…yet.” Skwisgaar chuckled nervously.
“How much- how much did he tell you? What did he do with you?”
“Oh Agnes- she ams just introducing herself and whatnots. Then we practice guitar together for a whiles- shes actually a very sweet ladies-I donts know whys-”
“THAT FUCKING SLUT!” Toki stood up suddenly, nearly knocking Skwisgaar off his chair, and ran off. Skwisgaar collected himself and followed hurriedly after. “Tokis wait!”
Toki stood in front of his dresser and was rapidly undressing. Removing all the disgusting fruity shit as fast as he could before anyone else could see his sinful secret, as Agnes pleaded loudly in his ear.
Toki please listen! All I and Skwisgaar did was talk! You need to relax yourself- you're having a panic attack!
FuckyouFuckyouFUckyouFUCKYOU! Toki screamed as loudly as he could into his own head. He knew he shouldnt have tried to discipline himself with her so close, but he had to make it clear how badly she had fucked them over. Now thanks to you, i'm going to be known as the f*ggot crossdresser who cant even remember his own fucking name! And the band is going to hate me- and im going to loose my place in the band- and get kicked out and fuck, shit- imgonnabehomelessandimgonnahavetomovebackinwithmotherandfather!
Skwisgaar loudly banged on “Tokis ams you ins dere?! I wants to talks to youse! Its ok, youse not in troubles dis time!”
Toki's chest felt like it was on fire, his vision was getting spotty and the fog was coming in, again, and rapidly at that. All Toki wanted to do was let the young rabbit out, for him to just play with his toys and color, not having to worry about any of this shit, such an innocent thing. Or for Agnes to come back and take all his pain away, to live it up with his beloved friends while he was unaware, unconscious, unreal. But he couldn't let that happen, not this time, not ever again if he could help it. And he could fight it, fight them. He just needed the.banging.to.stop.
The baniging continued on the door however, a loud call of…his name? He wasn't sure anymore. Yes, it was…Toki…Toki Wartooth. A booming noise, the pounding on the door as a man called for his name, that man. What was…he doing again? God he couldn't concentrate on anything else but that sound, it felt like his ears were being grated. Father? No, focus Liten Hare, he could fight this, he could stay here, forever. *Bang.* He was Toki Wartooth. He was Toki Wartooth? He was…
He caught sight of the scars in the mirror as he was pulling off his shirt, and he was gone.