[Metalocalypse] The Multiverse is Metal: Part 1
“Desk sex,” said Nathan.
Charles said nothing for a few seconds. He stared at Nathan and waited for him to continue. No context was forthcoming. “Sorry?”
“Desk sex,” repeated Nathan.
“No, I heard you the first time.” Charles looked down at his desk then back at Nathan. Realization came over him slowly. So, it had come back to this, but- “That was more than a year ago.”
“Was it?”
“Nathan, I’ve been talking to you about some… very important things for, at least, half an hour. How much of that did you actually hear?”
“Uhh.” Nathan fixed his gaze on the desk and gave a noncommittal shrug.
Charles sometimes wondered what went on in Nathan’s head. He imagined there was a semi-intelligent mind in there; thoughts dulled as they were by years of partying and getting lost in the stretch of blissfully ignorant fog that must fill that thick skull of his. “You aren’t having sex on my desk.”
“Seriously?” Nathan grazed the desk’s finished surface with his fingertips. “It doesn’t have to be with some groupie, if you’re worried about germs and shit. It could be with you.”
An uncomfortable and entirely unfamiliar tightening sensation occurred in Charles’ chest. “With me?” he asked, doubtful, though he wasn’t sure why. Yes, it had been more than a year ago since they had slept together… a few times… in quick succession… before Nathan had seemingly lost interest.
“Yeah,” said Nathan, sounding annoyed that such a thing needed to be asked.
It wasn’t as if Nathan wasn’t capable of regaining interest suddenly and inexplicably. Charles just hadn’t thought… “Not on my desk.” He raised a hand, thoughtfully fiddling with the knot in his tie. “But if you wanted to-”
Nathan grunted what Charles could only assume was a negative response. He stood up.
“Oh… All right… There is, of course, still the, uh, matter of the last audio book a-”
“No thanks,” said Nathan, leading Charles to believe his singer was still talking sex propositions rather than business.
“Nathan, that’s not- Nathan, focus- Nathan!”
Nathan stopped at the door. “What!” he shouted back. “Why are we shouting!”
“I was- I was trying to get your attention.” Charles shuffled the papers on his desk and used them to motion to the chair Nathan had recently vacated. “We have work to do. Remember? That’s why I called you in here. Please, sit down.”
Nathan stared at the chair. He considered it for a moment. “No,” he said.
“No?”
“No, I don’t want to work. I want to have sex.”
Charles didn’t want to be presumptuous, but- “With me?”
“With someone.”
“We could have sex.”
“On the desk?”
“No.”
Nathan groaned.
“What about the floor? Or a chair?”
“Your chair?”
“If… If you insist. Does that do something for you sexually? Ruining my things?”
“I dunno.” Nathan was already removing his belt.
Charles stood, giving his chair a final forlorn look. Even if it came out of this unstained, Charles couldn’t see looking at it the same way ever again. “And after this you’ll get to work?”
“I dunno,” said Nathan.
Charles suspected he’d lost his attention again. He turned to say as much but Nathan’s mouth got in the way. He kissed him roughly, grappling with the hem of Charles’ jacket and the buttons on his shirt. He dropped back into the chair and pulled Charles with him. It rolled backwards. The back of the chair hit the window, hard.
“Please be more careful.”
“This chair is really comfortable.”
What was the use? Charles straddled Nathan’s lap.
God, he’d missed this.
Nathan pushed Charles’ jacket down. He managed to get it off his shoulders but wasn’t entirely successful in removing it. He must have decided this was good enough, because the entirety of his concentration seemed to move to getting his manager’s pants off.
Charles couldn’t explain exactly why he had missed it, but he definitely had.
Smiling, Charles leaned forward. Using one hand to brace himself against the window, he slid the other between their bodies and expertly unbuttoned Nathan’s jeans. The armrests made the angle a bit awkward, but he managed. Charles had one hand around Nathan’s cock within seconds. Charles felt him give an appreciative shudder before redoubling his efforts to get Charles’ belt off.
And then the alarm went off.
Frustration and subsequent anger hit Charles with the cold chill of a bad surprise. “Dammit, not now.”
“What?” It seemed to take Nathan a moment just to realize there was a noise. “Just ignore it… probably… probably… fire alarm… or something - Fucking finally!” Nathan pulled Charles’ belt off like a hard-won prize, then tossed it aside without a second thought.
The alarm kept going. Charles sighed. Before Nathan could get any farther, he pulled away.
“What are you doing?” Nathan demanded as Charles stood and headed for his desk.
“I’m sorry, Nathan.” Charles took a deep breath. “Very, very sorry. You have no idea how sorr- Nevermind. I have a call. I need to take this. It’s important.”
“And this isn’t?” It might have been a touching sentiment had Nathan not been motioning toward his crotch.
“That is, uh, also important… We’ll just have to pick this up later. I’m sorry.” Charles hoped “later” wouldn’t turn out to be another year. There was just no helping it, though. “I need to ask you to leave.”
The alarm kept going. Reluctantly, Nathan stood and buttoned his jeans. “That doesn’t sound like a phone,” he said.
It wasn’t. “Well, it is.”
“Where’s it coming from? “ Nathan reached for the spot the sound seemed to be emanating from.
Charles grabbed Nathan by the arm before he could touch anything. “Again, very sorry, but-“ Using considerably more force that he would have liked to, Charles all but dragged him to the door. “-I really much insist.”
“Ow. Ouch! Geez! Fine. You don’t have to-“
Charles closed the door to his office before Nathan could finish that thought. “Dammit,” he repeated. He retreated back to his desk, pulled the chair from the window, and sat back down. He removed the false panel beneath the desk, flipped the switch, keyed the passcode into the number pad. And then he waited, shifting miserably in his desk chair as he did so. It seemed he’d ruined a perfectly good chair for nothing. There would be no focusing on work done in this thing from now on.
Charles said nothing for a few seconds. He stared at Nathan and waited for him to continue. No context was forthcoming. “Sorry?”
“Desk sex,” repeated Nathan.
“No, I heard you the first time.” Charles looked down at his desk then back at Nathan. Realization came over him slowly. So, it had come back to this, but- “That was more than a year ago.”
“Was it?”
“Nathan, I’ve been talking to you about some… very important things for, at least, half an hour. How much of that did you actually hear?”
“Uhh.” Nathan fixed his gaze on the desk and gave a noncommittal shrug.
Charles sometimes wondered what went on in Nathan’s head. He imagined there was a semi-intelligent mind in there; thoughts dulled as they were by years of partying and getting lost in the stretch of blissfully ignorant fog that must fill that thick skull of his. “You aren’t having sex on my desk.”
“Seriously?” Nathan grazed the desk’s finished surface with his fingertips. “It doesn’t have to be with some groupie, if you’re worried about germs and shit. It could be with you.”
An uncomfortable and entirely unfamiliar tightening sensation occurred in Charles’ chest. “With me?” he asked, doubtful, though he wasn’t sure why. Yes, it had been more than a year ago since they had slept together… a few times… in quick succession… before Nathan had seemingly lost interest.
“Yeah,” said Nathan, sounding annoyed that such a thing needed to be asked.
It wasn’t as if Nathan wasn’t capable of regaining interest suddenly and inexplicably. Charles just hadn’t thought… “Not on my desk.” He raised a hand, thoughtfully fiddling with the knot in his tie. “But if you wanted to-”
Nathan grunted what Charles could only assume was a negative response. He stood up.
“Oh… All right… There is, of course, still the, uh, matter of the last audio book a-”
“No thanks,” said Nathan, leading Charles to believe his singer was still talking sex propositions rather than business.
“Nathan, that’s not- Nathan, focus- Nathan!”
Nathan stopped at the door. “What!” he shouted back. “Why are we shouting!”
“I was- I was trying to get your attention.” Charles shuffled the papers on his desk and used them to motion to the chair Nathan had recently vacated. “We have work to do. Remember? That’s why I called you in here. Please, sit down.”
Nathan stared at the chair. He considered it for a moment. “No,” he said.
“No?”
“No, I don’t want to work. I want to have sex.”
Charles didn’t want to be presumptuous, but- “With me?”
“With someone.”
“We could have sex.”
“On the desk?”
“No.”
Nathan groaned.
“What about the floor? Or a chair?”
“Your chair?”
“If… If you insist. Does that do something for you sexually? Ruining my things?”
“I dunno.” Nathan was already removing his belt.
Charles stood, giving his chair a final forlorn look. Even if it came out of this unstained, Charles couldn’t see looking at it the same way ever again. “And after this you’ll get to work?”
“I dunno,” said Nathan.
Charles suspected he’d lost his attention again. He turned to say as much but Nathan’s mouth got in the way. He kissed him roughly, grappling with the hem of Charles’ jacket and the buttons on his shirt. He dropped back into the chair and pulled Charles with him. It rolled backwards. The back of the chair hit the window, hard.
“Please be more careful.”
“This chair is really comfortable.”
What was the use? Charles straddled Nathan’s lap.
God, he’d missed this.
Nathan pushed Charles’ jacket down. He managed to get it off his shoulders but wasn’t entirely successful in removing it. He must have decided this was good enough, because the entirety of his concentration seemed to move to getting his manager’s pants off.
Charles couldn’t explain exactly why he had missed it, but he definitely had.
Smiling, Charles leaned forward. Using one hand to brace himself against the window, he slid the other between their bodies and expertly unbuttoned Nathan’s jeans. The armrests made the angle a bit awkward, but he managed. Charles had one hand around Nathan’s cock within seconds. Charles felt him give an appreciative shudder before redoubling his efforts to get Charles’ belt off.
And then the alarm went off.
Frustration and subsequent anger hit Charles with the cold chill of a bad surprise. “Dammit, not now.”
“What?” It seemed to take Nathan a moment just to realize there was a noise. “Just ignore it… probably… probably… fire alarm… or something - Fucking finally!” Nathan pulled Charles’ belt off like a hard-won prize, then tossed it aside without a second thought.
The alarm kept going. Charles sighed. Before Nathan could get any farther, he pulled away.
“What are you doing?” Nathan demanded as Charles stood and headed for his desk.
“I’m sorry, Nathan.” Charles took a deep breath. “Very, very sorry. You have no idea how sorr- Nevermind. I have a call. I need to take this. It’s important.”
“And this isn’t?” It might have been a touching sentiment had Nathan not been motioning toward his crotch.
“That is, uh, also important… We’ll just have to pick this up later. I’m sorry.” Charles hoped “later” wouldn’t turn out to be another year. There was just no helping it, though. “I need to ask you to leave.”
The alarm kept going. Reluctantly, Nathan stood and buttoned his jeans. “That doesn’t sound like a phone,” he said.
It wasn’t. “Well, it is.”
“Where’s it coming from? “ Nathan reached for the spot the sound seemed to be emanating from.
Charles grabbed Nathan by the arm before he could touch anything. “Again, very sorry, but-“ Using considerably more force that he would have liked to, Charles all but dragged him to the door. “-I really much insist.”
“Ow. Ouch! Geez! Fine. You don’t have to-“
Charles closed the door to his office before Nathan could finish that thought. “Dammit,” he repeated. He retreated back to his desk, pulled the chair from the window, and sat back down. He removed the false panel beneath the desk, flipped the switch, keyed the passcode into the number pad. And then he waited, shifting miserably in his desk chair as he did so. It seemed he’d ruined a perfectly good chair for nothing. There would be no focusing on work done in this thing from now on.