Chapter Text
In his room, Murderface opens his laptop, clicks incognito mode and then gets stuck. He’s not even sure what he’s looking for.
He remembers what Charles said. He needs to think back to what other people have experienced. Maybe he’s missing something.
He thinks back to what Toki said. They were friends first. He and Knubbler are friends. Might be a good place to start.
Meanwhile, in the control office, one of the klokateer’s spots something and summons Charles. “Sir, you asked me to keep an eye on Murderface after your conversation earlier. He’s searching for … strange things.”
Charles looks confused. “He’s into weird things. How’s this any different?”
The klokateer moves his seat away from the screen. “It’s out of character.”
Charles wanders over and stops dead in his tracks. William has searched “Friends get gay” “Is it weird to suck your friend off?” “Seducing your friends” and he’s still typing.
Charles pinches the bridge of his nose. “Is the VPN up?”
“Yes sir.”
“I want everything scrubbed clean when he’s done. Give him an hour and tell me if he starts looking at anything dubious.”
“Dubious?”
“Anything that might cause him harm or make him want to cause harm to others.”
Meanwhile, sat on his bed, Murderface felt better educated. The videos make him question if that's normal, then the internet tells him it is. Maybe when he tries again, he and Knubbler will figure it out.
*
Knubbler walks casually down the halls of Mordhaus looking at his phone. He walks past the rest of the band who snigger and childishly whisper as he goes past. Luckily, Knubbler couldn’t give two shits what the rest of the band think. He loves Dethklok for the music, but he loves William as a person. They’ve seen each other at their best and their worst and whether this happens or not, irrelevant.
What caught Knubbler off guard was Charles giving him a weird look. When Charles is phased by something, you know something unpredictable is going down. What does Charles know that he doesn’t?
Knubbler makes it to Murderface’s room and knocks. “Willy, you in?”
The door opens and he’s dragged in by the collar before the door is closed behind him by a distressed version of Murderface.
“Will?”
“I worked it out, man. Those fuckers just had to be cryptic about it, but I did my research and figured it out!”
This isn’t the first time he’s been in Murderface's room while he’s been acting like a crazy person, so he just sits down and waits for an explanation. “What did you work out?”
Murderface proudly made his way over to the couch. “The thing we were missing, Dick. I figured it out. I didn’t know what I was expecting because I didn’t know what I wanted.”
“And now you know what you want?” Knubbler said, getting slightly nervous about Murderface's revelation.
Murderface sat down with him, facing him this time. “No.” He said smiling. “But I got some ideas.” He ran off to get his laptop.
Knubbler hesitantly followed.
Murderface continued his little speech. “Toki likes to keep it tame and friendly so he looks for people with similar interests. Nathan likes to keep it quick and quiet. Pickles will fuck anything. Skwiss likes women. But what do I like? What does Murderface like?”
Knubbler looked over at the screen to see all sorts of filth. “Is this what you’ve been doing all day?”
“I spent all day looking at dicks and ass to figure out that I don’t even like that. I like what we have. I liked being on the roof with you. I like arguing with producers over the phone with you. I like driving to the local bar where we look at girls and throw up near each other.” Murderface looks at him. “I think we need to just do what we like doing!”
Knubbler needed a minute to process that. “I like hanging out with you because you do all the same stupid shit I do.”
“Then let’s do hard drugs and play some fuckin’ music,” Murderface said through his teeth.
“You read my fuckin’ mind, baby!”
*
Amps plugged in, shirts off, joint lit, Murderface plays the bass while Knubbler jams at the control board. The backing music is turned way down so Knubbler gets the full experience.
He doesn’t stop playing. “Turn the drums up,” he demands.
Knubbler bobs his head as one hand moves the dials and the other hand lifts the spliff to his mouth. Murderface puts his all into matching Pickles’ prerecorded beat.
“You sound fuckin’ awesome!”
“You think so?”
“I know so, baby, look at you go. Can you hear yourself?!”
Murderface stops playing. “No, I usually can’t.”
“What I wouldn’t give to play a note.”
“Then get over here,” Murderface takes the instrument off and puts the strap over Knubbler.
“I don’t know how to play this thing,” Knubbler smiles, embarrassed at how bad this is about to sound.
Murderface turns the noises down, so it's just the base tempo and the notes being played by the bass. “I’ll show ya.” Murderface stands directly behind him and repositions him so he’s stood with his legs apart and hands in the right place. He places his hand under Knubbler’s hand and puppeteers his fingers himself. He rests his other hand by Knubbler’s forearm. When he looks up to watch over his shoulder, he finds himself breathing down his neck, pressing his front to his back.
Knubbler shudders. This has been the closest Murderface has been to his personal space since they fell over each other drunk.
Murderface bites his lip and cautiously pushes his hips forward. “When ur … When you’re playing you wanna be as comfortable as possible.” He stands on his tiptoes to try and balance the height difference. He can hear Knubbler’s breathing getting a little heavier.
“I .. always thought you … leaned forward..” Knubbler leans forward, basically bending Murderface over him.
Murderface catches on and plays the game. “That depends on,” He stands them back up right and reaches around the body of the guitar. “How you fret.” He plucks the strings and makes the bass vibrate. That time, he felt Knubbler tense up.
“You ur .. got your hand on the wrong side of the instrument.” Knubbler said, facing away from Murderface.
“Is this not doing it for ya?” Murderface pressed Knubblers fingers into the strings and made him play increasingly intense notes.
Knubbler shuddered again. “I’d like to know what you could do without the guitar in the way,” he said almost breathlessly.
Murderface knows this feeling. It’s confidence. It’s excitement. It’s control. He untangles Knubbler from the strap and lets the instrument fall to the floor. He hooked Knubbler by the collar and dragged him backwards to the bed, tripping him up and letting him fall backwards in front of him. This felt right.
Behind Murderfaces door, Pickles, Nathan and Swkisgaar have their ears to the wood.
“Can you hears anything?”
“Not since Murderface stopped playing his useless fucking instrument.”
“I can definitely smell skunk.”
Back on the bed, Murderface rips Knubblers 60s style pants from his waist. He brought himself over Knubblers bare body and bobbed down for their first kiss of the night. It was only now Will felt comfortable enough to run his hand down the other man's body and stop at his raised briefs. The kiss broke as both men looked at each other, silently asking for and giving permission.
Outside the door, the rest of the band held their breath while they heard Knubbler cry out “Fuck”.
“Ahem?” A stern voice whipped the 3 men up and away from the door. Stood with folded arms in the middle of the dark corridor was Charles. Stood less confidently but more disappointed was Toki. “Is there something going on here I need to know about?”
Pickles opened his mouth without thinking. “Pretty sure you already know about it.”
“PICKLES!” Nathan yelled.
“What? We’ve been ratted out anyway.”
Charles raised his head just enough for them to notice. “Stay out of William’s personal life.”
The group slowly disbanded, but each of them gave Toki a look.
Charles sighed. “I was hoping it would be boring by now. I guess I was wrong.”
Back inside the room, Knubbler sat over Murderface’s hips, crotch to crotch, completely naked. Except the boots. They stay on during sex.
“You know, it's not gonna fit, right?”
Murderface thought back through his short lived research. “I wanna try something. Up.”
While Knubbler kneeled up, Murderface licked his fingers and put them in the right place between Knubblers legs, never breaking eye contact. Knubbler seemed pleasantly surprised by the action, but never made an attempt to stop it.
“You wanna see what bass players can do?” He pushed up and curved inward, massaging the spot with surprising delicacy.
“Oh fuck,” Knubbler said under his breath.
Murderface’s expression softened. “I’m doing this right, right?”
“Don’t fuckin’ stop,”
Excitement reignited, Murderface pressed a little harder while his other hand gripped Knubbler’s hip to hold him still. The best Knubbler could do was hold Will’s legs and keep himself under control.
Murderface looked up at his wobbly friend. The piercings have changed since last time. He never took in how thin he is until right now. He is long and thin like a noodle. It also never occurred to him how expressive those robotic eyes are. The man doesn’t have eyelids, yet Murderface can tell his eyes are wide open. Maybe it's his eyebrows giving it away, or how relaxed his face is. He supposes he likes this more because it's how he looked when they got to know each other.
Knubbler sniggered. “Stop teasing me, babe. I know we got all night but this is just torture.”
Murderface fell back into action like he never left and rolled them over effortlessly.
Knubbler hit the bed with Murderface’s full weight hanging over him, and his first reaction was to laugh. Murderface was quickly infected with the giggles and had to sit on his feet while he recovered.
“This is crazy,” Knubbler said happily.
“I know!” William confirmed. “This has just been -- too easy.”
Knubbler pulled a cocky face. “Then make it hard again.”
Murderface interlocked their legs. “I’d rather die than fuck this up.”
Murderface backed up a little while he found his target. He shoved forward. As soon as the heat encased his cock, he began thrusting, blindly following instinct over thought. What brought him around was the sound of Knubbler panting beneath him. The feel of thin legs around his hips, the build up of sweat, the normality of looking down on another man in an intimate setting, it was like everything was making sense.
The sudden change in pace caught Knubbler off guard. “You okay, Willy?”
Murderface could only blink. He needed to be closer. He needed to hold him, feel him breath, hear his voice in his ear. He wrapped himself around Knubbler and let him hold his shoulder and the back of his head. He felt him tip back and take a deep breath as he pushed in deeper and let a harsh breath go.
He’s not ready for this to end, but it can only get better from here. He selfishly gives up and follows the urge to speed up, building himself up while Knubbler just takes it.
Climax hit him like a brick. The air wasn’t in his lungs anymore. The adrenaline had faded to a mellow and relaxed high flowing through his veins. His body felt weak. His memory was fuzzy. He knows what he just did, but he forgot all the details. As he sat up, he saw Knubbler laying there, waiting for him to come around, but all he could do was stare back at him with a gormless face on.
“You ur .. wanna finish this off?”
“I’m not gonna lie. Yes. Yes I do.” Murderface caught his breath as he pulled out and leaned back. He took Knubbler’s dick in his hand and started rubbing. His mind went blank as he let muscle memory take over. The sound of Dick’s moans told him what he needed to know. His arm was still in full force when Knubbler jolted and spasmed through his own climax.
Murderface laid next him, boots hanging off the bed and looked at the ceiling with Knubbler.
“How’d you feel?”
“Better. A lot better.”
“You wanna cuddle?”
The word cuddle is the least metal word that exists in the English language, but Murderface held back his spicy comment and agreed.
After neither can handle being the little spoon, Will took his boots off and protectively held Knubbler chest to chest. This is how they fell asleep.
Meanwhile, there is a thick tension between the rest of the gang.
Charles breaks the silence. “Stop moping.”
“We’re not moping,” Pickles said with a face like thunder.
“Hopefully now you’ve left him alone, the subject won’t be a laughing matter any more.”
“That's exactly the problem,” Nathan complains.
“Excellent. So now you might all be a little more empathetic towards him since you all share that experience.” Charles turned on his heel, happy that the situation had finally been put to rest.
The room goes quiet again. Far too quiet. The only noise in the room was Skwisgaar’s guitar being fiddled with.
Toki broke the silence. “Ifs it makes you feels better, am’s sorry I was a convincing woman.”
Skwisgaar death stared Toki into silence. “I thoughts am said we weren’ts goings to talks about it.”
Pickles’ eyes darted to Nathan. “Was it seriously the best-”
“-I don’t wanna talk about it,” Nathan said, turning away from Pickles’ side of the room.