Chapter Text
“We’re BloodFuck and we’re here to rock this shit tonight!”
After the frontman’s brief introduction the drummer sets the pace with a four-count before the rest of the band comes to life and assaults Nathan’s ears with some of the worst shit he’s ever heard in his life.
Thankfully he’s no longer near the stage and now sits at the bar with the guys but it doesn’t make the racket any better. Magnus, to his right, claps Nathan on the shoulder with a laugh. “Hey, they had a tough act to follow, alright?” Clearly, Nathan must have worn his displeasure on his face plainly for Magnus to have noticed it through the remnants of his corpse paint.
“I guess.” Nathan takes another long swig of beer and as he brings the bottle back down on the bartop, he can’t help but grin. “We did kinda kick ass up there tonight.”
“Damn fuckin’ right we did,” Magnus returns with a wolfish grin of his own.
One of the many good things about putting on a show was when he and the rest of the guys could just relax and be fucking normal around each other. Life isn’t always a living hell when they’re together but that’s not to say living in a crappy apartment with five other guys is a walk in the park, but when it’s like this? He can feel that bond between all of them stronger than anything during their setlists and the comfortable camaraderie that lasts through the rest of the night. Things can always change in an instant such as Murderface getting into a fistfight or Pickles getting so drunk he passes out somewhere he’s not supposed to be and the guys have to contemplate putting up posters that say MISSING DRUMMER PLEASE CALL IF FOUND on telephone poles around town but right now, none of that is happening. It feels right. Even when Magnus leaves his spot next to him to get some fresh air and have a smoke Nathan still feels that connection.
Drinking gets him like this, sometimes. It’s whatever. Who ever said it was a fucking crime to be happy every once in a while?
A lingering touch to his shoulder pulls Nathan from his thoughts and he looks up lazily to see Skwisgaar hovering over him from where he’s hunched over on the bar stool. It’s hot in the bar with this many people crammed in such a small area even with the overhead fans on full blast and if he didn’t already know that from his hair sticking to the back of his neck uncomfortably he would know it just by looking at Skwisgaar; his corpse paint nearly melted off his face and staining his white shirt collar from how much he was sweating during the show. His eyes shine at him from under the dark shadows he’s painted onto his eyes, his long blonde hair still in a state of disarray from all the headbanging and Nathan finds himself transfixed by the sight.
Skwisgaar’s hand trails down to his bicep, toying with the edge of his shirt sleeve. “Nathans,” He starts, leaning in closer so Nathan can hear him over the music and the loud conversations taking place around them. “Cans you helps me find de bathrooms?”
Wordlessly, Nathan looks over at the large signs towards the back of the venue that say RESTROOMS along with a helpful arrow pointing in the direction of said bathrooms with some type of fancy reflective paint that glows under the fluorescent lighting of the bar. It was pretty difficult to miss.
Skwisgaar follows his gaze and after pausing to read it, he turns back to Nathan with a pout, sucking his bottom lip between his teeth. “I can’ts reads.”
“Ok, well uh–”
“Cans you not be stupids for a seconds?” Skwisgaar huffs out, exasperated, forgoing the sultry breathy voice he was putting on that Nathan hadn’t even noticed he was doing until he had dropped it. “Comes with me, I ams sayings. Jesus.”
To be totally fair, at this point in the night Nathan had already knocked back a few and taken a hit off of some random dude’s joint that had been wordlessly offered to him. He wasn’t really in the state of mind to be put through the type of mental gymnastics Skwisgaar was subjecting him to. Now, though, he’s pretty sure he understands.
“Oh,” he says, eventually. “Yeah, alright.”
As soon as they figure out which stall of the janky bar bathroom has a working lock Skwisgaar shoves Nathan against the stall divider and kisses him hard, shaking the whole damn thing in the process. A pleased groan reverberates through Nathan’s chest as he tangles his fingers in Skwisgaar’s hair and gives him a run for his money, licking into his mouth and pulling whiny sounds from him as he pulls him even closer so their hips are flush with one another. This is something that happens every once in a while after shows when the adrenaline is running high and while he doesn’t know what started this particular habit, Nathan has never been one to look a gift horse in the mouth. He tastes like sweat and booze and also of the damn corpse paint that’s running down the slick skin of his face and while it’s not the best thing he’s ever had in his mouth he doubts it’s toxic enough to kill him. That would be kind of brutal, though.
Skwisgaar gropes him the whole time, rucking up his shirt to paw at his pecs and snaking around him to grab a handful of his ass. Nathan retaliates in turn by biting on his lower lip and pulling, sucking it into his mouth as Skwisgaar tries to pull back with a particularly needy whine. God, he was fucking noisy.
“Sits down,” Skwisgaar breathes out once he can finally get himself to pull back from Nathan's hungry lips completely. “On de fucking toilets.”
Thankfully there’s a lid so he slams it down and sits himself squarely upon it, spreading his legs for Skwisgaar to gracefully slink down and kneel to slot himself between as he wastes no time grabbing for his belt.
“You really wanna fucking do this now?” Nathan asks, though he has absolutely zero intentions of stopping him. “Anyone could come in here.”
“Ja,” Skwisgaar agrees as he zips down Nathan’s fly and fishes out his cock, shooting him a wide smirk with bruised lips. “That’s what’s make it so fucking hots.”
He doesn’t get to it right away and instead presses hot wet kisses to the side of his shaft, keeping eye contact with Nathan as he does so. As Skwisgaar leans further into Nathan’s lap he angles his knees so he can arch his back Nathan sees something that makes him sort of. Draw a blank.
“Wait.” Nathan cranes his neck to get a closer look. “What the fuck are you wearing.”
Skwisgaar is languorous as he twists to take a look himself as if he has no idea what Nathan could possibly be seeing. “Oh, thats?” He fondles the straps of the black mesh thong, shifting them so they sit higher up over the bones of his hips. “One of the goils lefts it behinds. Lucky for me, it ams just my size.” He sits back on his heels for a moment so Nathan can appreciate how it looks from the front and how it dips down his trim waist and under the waistband of his white jeans. “You likes it?”
Nathan furrows his brow and actually stops to consider how he feels about it. To make sure, even, he bends downwards and grabs the delicate strap of the thong himself and pulls it back until the material has no more give and he lets it snap back onto Skwisgaar’s skin, pulling a bitten-off moan from him as it slaps his pale flesh. “Yeah, I uh. I do like it,” he admits. He’d have to think about this more later, for sure. Then, curiously, “Does it actually fit?”
That gets him a sheepish grin from Skwisgaar in return. “Not reallies. No space for my balls.” He leans back down over Nathan’s lap and pushes his legs out the same way to bring attention to the thong and Nathan doesn’t even try to look anywhere else. “I’m goings to suck you offs now, okay?”
And by God, on the awful stained uneven tile of the bathroom floor, he does. Honestly, Nathan has a hunch that Skwisgaar likes this even more than he does which is a pretty high bar to clear but the way he moans around Nathan’s shaft in his mouth and the flush over his cheekbones that’s visible through the corpse paint sort of gives him away. He’s fast and efficient and Nathan really can’t do much but endure his hot mouth as he lets his head fall back against the wall and uses a hand to hold onto the back of Skwisgaar’s head, not pushing or directing the pace at all but simply holding on.
He gets lost in it until the rattle of the bathroom door being yanked open takes him out of the moment and he jerks his hips in surprise which causes Skwisgaar to choke around him before he pulls back completely.
All he can see is a pair of shoes and the bottom half of some guy’s pants and the guy doesn’t move for a moment as the door slams behind him. After a pause which has Nathan feeling mortification burning the back of his neck the guy finally just mumbles something under his breath that sounds like ‘whatever’ and then makes his way towards one of the stalls.
There’s no way the other guy doesn’t know what’s going on in here because the stall dividers are high enough that they leave little to the imagination and because, well, Skwisgaar did choke on him for a second there. But most importantly are the two pairs of legs in one stall that are most definitely visible especially with the contrast of Skwisgaar’s all white ensemble and Nathan’s dark jeans and black boots. The guy doesn’t hesitate before he steps into the stall next to them (the one without a lock) and starts to piss.
As he listens to the guy pissing without another word, he gets it. He’s been in this situation before as well where he’s walked in on people fucking and sucking in bathrooms but at the end of the day it’s like, what are you going to do, not piss? The only thing you can really do is to finish what you came here for and pretend whatever you just saw never happened. He honestly feels like he should be counting his blessings because out of everything this guy could be doing to the toilet, this is by far the least offensive option. He lets his head fall back against the wall again and stares at the cracks in the ceiling that are probably indicative of some type of structural damage and waits for it to be over.
What he does not expect is for Skwisgaar to take the tip of his dick back into his mouth and Nathan whips his head to look back down at him incredulously. He wants to ask him what the fuck he thinks he’s doing but for obvious reasons he doesn’t and he hopes his expression conveys that.
Skwisgaar doesn’t go any further than that and just mouths at the head with his plush lips and a mischievous look in his eyes as he teases his drooling slit with his tongue. Nathan makes no sound whatsoever and he’s surprised that Skwisgaar doesn’t either, though his breathing is considerably heavier than Nathan’s both from the enthusiastic cock sucking and also because this is absolutely turning him on. His hot breath keeps hitting his dick and Nathan resumes looking up at the ceiling because he really does not want to be brought closer to the edge while some rando is pissing not even two feet away from them and looking down at Skwisgaar making porn star faces at his dick is really not going to help him in this situation.
Finally, the guy finishes and flushes (which is great) and then leaves without washing his hands (not so great). Once the door swings shut completely, Nathan lets out a long-suffering groan and rubs his temples which he belatedly realizes is a bad idea when he smears the facepaint even more than it already is.
“For fuck’s sake, hurry up. That was awful.”
“That ams kinds of more up to yous than mes,” Skwisgaar laughs, but he gets right back to work with renewed vigor anyway.
It’s not too difficult to get back into the rhythm of it once Skwisgaar’s wet mouth is on him and instead of trying to prolong the sensations coursing through him like he had been he lets them run their course uninterrupted. Yeah, he could make this last longer, but that type of shit is better suited for when they’re not in a public bathroom.
“Gonna cum,” he warns him, already feeling his toes curling in his boots. Skwisgaar pulls off of him, his hand taking place where his lips once were to jerk him off as he looks up at him through his kohl-lined lashes and Jesus , he can really look like such a fucking whore when he wants to. It doesn’t take much more before Nathan is breathing hard through his nose and spilling onto Skwisgaar’s waiting tongue but also making a mess of the rest of his face as well, his cum painting white on top of the white of his corpse paint and dripping down his cheeks and chin, taking paint with it where it trails downwards.
Skwisgaar winks up at him, clearly pleased with his work, before he makes a move to stand.
“You want me to jerk you off or something?” Nathan asks as Skwisgaar leverages his weight onto Nathan’s spread thighs to push himself upwards and once he does, he pulls Skwisgaar in closer by his slim hips.
Skwisgaar swats his hands off of him and steps away. “Laters, you pays me back.” He drags a thumb over his cheek to get the cum off of it and sucks it between his lips before a grimace twists his face. Before Nathan even has a chance to be offended, Skwisgaar speaks again. “Ugh, why the fucks do we wears this face paints again? Tastes like shit.”
“It unifies our image,” Nathan answers him seriously.
Maybe it was a rhetorical question because Skwisgaar doesn’t respond. “I cleans up,” he says instead. “You, go.”
“Where the fuck were you?” Magnus laughs as Nathan takes a seat back on the stool he was sitting on before this whole thing transpired. The stage is empty now as the live music portion of the night has ended and the noise pollution has been replaced by the sound of the radio playing through various speakers mounted across the bar, the bass tuned too high for him to even really hear what band they’re playing. “You missed the rest of BloodDick’s set.”
“BloodFuck,” he corrects. Nathan doesn’t know if he’s allowed to say that Skwisgaar was giving him a blowjob so he settles on something else. “I was taking a dump.”
“Yeah, that’s great.” Then, “Have you seen Skwisgaar anywhere, or?”
“Uh.”
“Oh, there he is.”
Thankfully, Skwisgaar saunters up to the bar at that moment and plants himself between Nathan and Magnus, leaning back against the countertop with the grace of a large cat on the prowl for its next meal. The black is still around his eyes because you can’t really get that shit off without mineral water but most of the white, at least, has been diligently scrubbed away. He tilts his head towards Magnus wordlessly and raises a brow in an unasked question.
One of Magnus’ hands trails down to rest at the small of Skwisgaar’s back, fingers splayed wide as he pulls him closer to his side with a possessive gleam in his eyes. Nathan really has no idea what the fuck is going on with them. With Nathan and Skwisgaar it’s just easy sex but with Magnus and Skwisgaar it’s just weird. All they ever seem to really do is fight but neither of them have ever mentioned anything about it to him so he’s never asked. He and Pickles have tried to guess about it once or twice but the only thing they could settle on was ‘toxic fuck buddies’. He looks away because it seems like the polite thing to do.
“You wants to get out of heres?” He can hear Skwisgaar ask and by the sound of his voice he’s probably pulling that same pouty fuck-me eyes he was using on Nathan just earlier. Unlike Nathan, though, Magnus is a bit faster on the uptake.
“Yeah, fuck this noise,” Magnus agrees easily, standing up from the stool before he just sort of stops for a second and makes a sound of disbelief. “What the fuck are you wearing?”
Neither of them stick around for much longer than that, Magnus announcing that they’re catching a cab back and also suggesting in no uncertain terms that he and the guys find something else to do for a while. The night is young anyway, or probably the morning at this point, so Nathan grabs another beer and decides to figure out where the hell the other guys are at. He finds Murderface playing strip poker with a few stripper-adjacent women and even with how little they have on, they still look overdressed compared to Murderface who is muttering a slew of curses under his breath as he looks angrily at the cards in his hands as if they have personally wronged him. Locating Pickles is a bit more difficult but after a brief search he finds him backstage, fast asleep under his drum kit and clutching an empty beer bottle to his chest like it’s his newborn baby. It’s kind of cute, actually.
He’ll have to haul him out of there eventually but for now he has nowhere to be and he prefers the quiet ambience of the backstage, the din of the barhoppers and the radio muted by the extra wall separating him from the rest of the bar so he takes a seat nearby on the floor and takes another swig of his beer.
All things considered, Nathan could count tonight as a good fucking night. Maybe it’s a bit sentimental of him and he’d never admit it out loud but he can’t think of any douchebags he’d rather be stuck on this stupid planet with.
He only hopes it stays like this for a bit longer.