you are coming down with me

[toki_in_the_cube]

[It's not fair.

Cursing your lot in life was always a fun way to make time go by faster. Why did I do this? Why did this happen to me? Is the universe conspiring against me? Am I cursed?

Tonight, as Toki fell into his bed with a choked sob, he could not shake the idea.

It's not fair!

Getting tackled had left him with a nasty yellow bruise on his hip and a headache that Tylenol couldn't fix, but the most devastating blow had been to his ego.

At this point, I'll take anything!]

So why don'ts you, asshole?!

[He screams into his pillow, he punches it, he kicks his legs back and forth like a miserable teenage girl.

None of them got it. Oh, there goes stupid Toki! Fucked up his laundry, skating around in his shrunken underwear with a cute little ponytail! What a moron! He was flirting with them, quite literally asking for it, and the only one who seemed to understand hadn't gone through with it. Why?!

He wedges a hand between his legs, pressing against the wet folds of his briefs, and cries out in frustration when a wave of pain shoots through his wrist. Carpal tunnel is a bitch.]

Oh, screws you all offs!

[Once he's taken a moment to stew in his own rage, face down in the pillow and uncomfortable heat pooling in his belly, he grabs his phone and mumbles into the mic, sending a transcribed text to the man of the hour.]

we needs to talks

Comments

[pisch]

( It was a moment of weakness. Everyone gets to have a moment of weakness now and then. Gandi, Martin Luther, all the greats. So, it's not like this is something for Murderface, or anyone else, to get all worked up about. Sure, they had to pull Murderface free from Toki kicking and screaming like a wounded animal, but he'd been this close to the jackpot, that sweet, tight ass that's been just out of reach for days on end. Murderface gets the feeling that he's doing it on purpose, that he knows what he's doing, the tease, but in a breakout room, Nathan had said, no, Murderface is just horny.

Well, duh.

That doesn't make Toki any less of a slutty tease tramp whore.

So, Murderface is in the brig, and he's pacing. It's the closest thing to an actual horny jail this submarine can provide: small quarters, a metal cell door, a plain ceiling. It's not much worse than his regular room aboard this sub, but it's the principle of the thing. He's being sequestered. He's a danger. Anyone could be Murderface's next target, and they can't have that, so they've jailed him like a criminal.

Distantly, Murderface wonders if they'll slide him rations on a plastic tray, or if they'll forgo feeding him entirely. Out of sight, out of mind.

At least one person hasn't forgotten about him yet. )

wut
her 2 rub it in??

[toki_in_the_cube]

Oh, fucks you!

Fucks you, fucks you!

[Toki grinds his teeth until pain wipes his mind clean, he rubs his thighs against each other, he fights the urge to hurl the phone across the room and be done with it.

He can't use text-to-speech again. He needs to convey what his words can't.]

you hurts my feelings >:( says sorry!!!

[pisch]

( Oh. Huh. He's not used to seeing the consequences of his actions manifest so quickly. Normally, he'd get to feel a little not bad before the waves of built come rolling in, but Toki's coming in strong for some reason.

Good thing this is about the abstract concept of 'feelings,' otherwise Murderface might actually have to dignify this with a real response beyond the usual: )

gaylord

( Feelings are gay, Toki. You know this. )

[toki_in_the_cube]

Oh, you's would says that.

[Toki falls on his back with a sigh.]

fags

has funs with toms cruises? :)))

[He doesn't like wearing the ponytail when he's just lounging around in bed. It gets in the way. So, he pulls it free and drops the scrunchie like it burns him, sighing. That's a little better.]

wheres you ams?

[pisch]

i no u r
but wut am i???

( Got 'em.

At least texting Toki is providing some entertainment. He should get around to apologizing at some point, maybe, but that doesn't really fit his brand. Plus, Toki's the one who teased him. If anything, maybe Toki should be the one apologizing! )

NOT SO FAST
dont u hav sumthin 2 say 2 me

im wayting

[toki_in_the_cube]

[Oh, you're on.]

i knows you ams but what ams i :)

[Toki shoots it back rapid-fire, ignoring the pain that rockets through his wrist and makes his fingers go stiff.]

no? :/ dont gots nothins to says to you. ams waitins for YOU to says it.

[pisch]

gay
slut

( Hello?? He asked?? )

i dont got nothun 2 say 2 u
so
i gues were at an inpass

( And, maybe a few seconds after that last message sends: )

send me a pic

[toki_in_the_cube]

gays gays homoskexuals gays

[A jolt of excitement shoots through him at the accusation.

Slut.

He shuts his legs again, lashes fluttering as he giggles. His own lack of a response says enough.]

nothins? fucks you. dicks.

whats you gonna do with pics of me? O_o jacks off??? roflmaos

[pisch]

yea
u r

( What a gross, terrible accusation. Murderface doesn’t need Toki to jack off.






But it wouldn’t hurt. )

mak fun of u
obvislee

[toki_in_the_cube]

no :) you ams

[His mind works at warp speed. Complex thought isn't beyond him, contrary to popular belief; he'd just prefer not to do it. Tonight is the grand exception.

William's defenses are low. They'd have to be, if he's willing to pounce him in front of everybody. Hook, line and sinker.

He sends a debatably innocent picture of himself - brown hair fanning out around him like a halo, face red and blotchy, teeth sinking into his thin bottom lip.

And then, a couple of seconds later, once it sinks in, he sends another.

His chest, shirt yanked up to show his pecs - decorated with tiny patches of fine hair, sweat clinging to him like a second skin, the studs driven through his nipples glinting in the dim light.]

I gots you now.

[He whispers, grinning.]

[pisch]

( The first picture alone would have done plenty for Murderface in this state, not that anyone needs to know that. He'd stopped pacing a while back, now posted up against the wall of his cage as he looks down at this phone, hanging on Toki's every word. It's a cheap thrill, but a thrill nonetheless. Attention is good, being responded to is good, even if those responses are, quote, gays gays homoskexuals gays, which is less than ideal. Still, being bullied is better than not being seen, so Murderface is happy with it.

And he's happy with a tastefully horny photo. Toki looks like he's blushing. What a gay.

Murderface tucks into the stiff, uninviting cot of his jail cell, ready to make do with what he's been giving with a hand shoved between his legs, when Toki hits him with the real kicker.

Sir, he would have busted off to halo hair lip bite. This is almost too much.

He just sort of stares at it for a while, disbelieving, damp shorts made all the more damp without him even trying to address it just yet. It's like when a really cool bug lands on your hand; you just want to admire it a bit before whapping it away. )

Sweet Jesus...

( Rather telling is the fact that he's not replying right now. Clearly, he's busy. )

[toki_in_the_cube]

[Oh, he's so fucked. Toki doesn't need a response to confirm what he already knows. The other guys might have cringed in disgust at the idea of William Murderface beating off to them, but not Toki - despite what he might claim, their long-neglected bass player didn't have a dominant bone in his body. Toki could squish and stretch him like playdoh; it was fun watching him pretend that it wasn't happening.]

I gots you. I gots you.

[His voice is light, breathy, sing-songy, and he swoops in for the kill.

Murderface's cell floods with the sudden shriek of a crunchy decades-old ringtone as Toki calls him.]

[pisch]

( Slowly, cautiously, Murderface's fingers slide into his shorts, but that's more the fear of this all being an illusion, like it might disappear once Murderface touches himself. That's ridiculous, though. He couldn't have made this up, which means it has to be real. He's hardly gotten into any real motion when his phone rings, and he screams in fear. God, he knew it! Nothing is real! He's dying! He's been caught! The minute he gets down to business, everything falls apart! He's sorry!

...

...

...Oh, it's just a phone call?

Be still his hammering heart. Fuck, that scared him, and that annoys him. To think he'd been so rattled by the blaring of a phone, that's embarrassing. )

What?!

( In the tone of fuck you. )

[toki_in_the_cube]

[Oh, he's pissed.

Good.

Toki shuts his eyes tight, imagining how Murderface's short, stubby, calloused fingers might feel inside of him. Just when the silence might stretch into eternity, he moans, loud and shameless, directly into the receiver.]

...needs you--

[Colorful stars flash around him when he opens his eyes, breaths shallow and hitching. If this doesn't work, he'll eat his own shorts.]

[pisch]

( Not for the first time, Murderface assumes he’s being messed with. As much as he wants it to be, there’s no way this can be real, not with him. He’s not the one who gets the guy in the end. He’s not the frontman, or the sexy guitarist, or the cool, laid back drummer. He’s just Murderface.

He knows it’s all an elaborate prank. The moment he responds to it, he’s sure he’ll hear them — Skwisgaar, and Nathan, and Pickles, and, of course, Toki — all cracking up into the receiver.

I can’ts believes he ams fells for that!
Ain’ts he a dummy?!
Doood! We totally got ‘im!
Uh. Brutal. Haha. Hey, pass me the chips.

Or some variation of that; Murderface’s internal impressions of his bandmates isn’t spot on, he knows, but the feeling of being humiliated feels real enough.

He hangs up. )

[toki_in_the_cube]

[Oh.

Fuck, what did he do wrong?]

No--

No, no, no!

[He dials Murderface back in a flash, stiff and sweaty fingers stumbling over the screen, and sends a preemptive text.]

DONT HANGS UP ON TOKIS :(((

[pisch]

( Nice try, fucko!! )

dd NATHAM put u up 2 dis????

[toki_in_the_cube]

Wh--

UGH!

[He nearly sobs in his frustration, legs tangling up in the blanket and kicking it off in the next second. Every brush of the itchy cotton against his bare legs feels like electric needles.]

no??? >:( ams in my rooms hurtins BC OF YOU!!!

[pisch]

( As unlikely as it seems, Murderface supposes it’s… possible.

Still.

He’s going to need that in writing.

He starts a video call with Toki, which should save them both the trouble of using their hands for typing. )

[toki_in_the_cube]

[Toki accepts the call and props his phone up against Deaddy Bear, laying back on his side so that Murderface can see it all - the rise and fall of his bare chest, flyaway strands of hair plastered to his blotchy face, the way his bottom lip swells as he bites into it - the heavy, half-closed, fuck drunk look he's giving the camera.]

...I really, really hates you, sometimes.

[He mumbles, sulking.

There's no signs of the other boys - no hands lingering just inside the frame, no muffled conversation, nothing.

Just a tormented Toki.]