Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

London had failed.

By extension, that meant Nikki had failed. He wasn't, however, going to focus on that right now. It wasn't important. He didn't need it, either. You could argue that he didn't need the hangover he was definitely going to have the next morning, but he played the Whiskey-a-go-go, you don't do that and leave sober.

Unless you have no reputation, of course. Or if you didn't want one.

Yes, Nikki had a problem. Not like he was going to admit it, least of all to himself. He wanted a band - not a bunch of guys who could hold instruments. In all honesty, he was surprised London didn't fail sooner. He didn't need t face that now, though.

What he needed was a Jack and coke.

More than anything else, he needed inspiration. His dead-end job selling lightbulbs wasn't helping him, and the only good songs he had so far were far too... Personal to perform yet.

Frankie died just the other night

He didn't die. Nikki killed him, burned the driver's license, the only identification the so-called 'Frankie' had. Franklin Carlton Feranna was dead.

Some say it was suicide

Nikki laughed as he remembered this; a dry, humorless laugh. It was, in a way, suicide. He was Frank, Frank was him, no matter how much he tried to deny it. There was no escaping the fact.

But we know how the story goes.

The most terrifying sentence Nikki wrote till then - it haunted him. Yes, he knew they were his lyrics, his emotions. He knew how the story went. Hell, it was his story. But Frank Feranna, the boy that came to the Sunset Strip after running away, was gone. He was Nikki Sixx now.

Shaking the thoughts from his head, he left the back room of the Whiskey, putting his cigarette out in the door frame. Throwing it onto the ground, he crushed it with the back of his shoe, as if it were the reason his music failed.

As if that was why he was a failure.

He really needed that Jack and Coke right now.

At the back of his mind, the thoughts lingered. Nikki knew why nothing worked. He knew why nothing went the way he wanted it to go, and he knew why he would fail at the Rock 'n' Roll renaissance he was trying so desperately to start, that he was trying so desperately to bring about.

He slammed his fist on the table as soon as he sat down, earning the expected glare from people at the bar. He didn't care. Not about this, not about anything. Maybe, he thought, snarling, Frankie would have. If, of course, Frankie was still alive.

The bartenders knew him, what he had usually, what he ordered when he was in one of his moods. Soon enough, his drink was in front of him. Pouring it down his mouth, a wave of fury washed over him. He bit down - as hard as he could, shattering the glass, spitting the pieces everywhere, a furious look in his eye as he slammed the money for the drink on the counter ad stormed out.

Right now, Nikki knew exactly what he wanted.

Chapter Text

The metallic taste of blood wouldn't leave his mouth, even the next day. Crawling out of his bed, Nikki realized it was over - London, his opportunity, everything. There were fragments of glass on his clothes, he realized, and most likely on his bed as well.

He was a bassist with no band. He wanted to end that new-age crap, make music that was aggressive, provocative, and - most importantly - music that was real. London had failed - the reality of the situation only hit him now. He was a bassist, for f.uck's sake, he couldn't not have a band. At the very least, a drummer and a singer.

There wasn't a shortage of kids who wanted to join one, hell, this was the Sunset Strip. Even so, he didn't want just anyone - he needed a born musician, someone who played with everything they had.

He viewed himself as Sid Vicious, and couldn't for a second stop looking for the members of the band he knew would be his Nancy Spungen.

*

"What was your crime against humanity?"

The kid next to him was silent, staring into his drink. Nikki took a moment to look at him - high cheekbones, dark hair and eyes, around the same height as himself. He had an air of naivety around him, and a look on his face that made him seem like in that moment, he wasn't quite himself.

"I didn't do it," He choked out, his voice weak, as if he'd been crying recently. Nikki frowned, about to speak as the kid opened his mouth again. "She fucking stabbed me, man. Said I was cheating on her, and didn't even let me explain that I was talking to my sister. Man, I loved her. I thought this would last, we'd been together since high school dude."

He reached for his t-shirt, showing the bandage on his shoulder. "Used a fucking butterknife. It hurt like a bitch, but honestly the only thing I can think about is her..."

He was a hopeless f.ucking romantic, wasn't he? Nikki sighed. "Sorry to hear that, man," He said, reaching behind the counter and pouring himself another glass of whiskey. "She wasn't worth it, anyway, if she did that."

The guy looked like he'd been personally offended, like he'd throw something, or burst into tears. "She was the love of my life," he said, shaking slightly.

Nikki looked at him, "You're kidding me, right? That bitch, that stabbed you?"

"I wish people would stop talking like that. I'm old enough to think for myself - yes, her. I loved Honey. We were together since we graduated high school last year."

Nikki sighed. He never understood people like this guy people who tied their existence to one other person. "Listen, kid, you've got to let go, she's a shit person, and if she's ready to stab you she's not the person you need."

The guy looked at him, his chocolate brown eyes wide in shock.

"Dude, you're Nikki Sixx," He said, changing the subject, "I can't believe I just said all that to Nikki f.ucking Sixx, I'm so sorry, man, I... I have your poster in my room, you know that? I picked up a London flyer, you guys were great-"

"Take the poster down, that's f.ucking creepy," Nikki interrupted, "London's done, man. It failed, and it's in the past. Singer was an useless, drummer was mediocre."

"I'm Tommy," he said, "I know, I only listened after the first show because your playing was amazing. I actually met Honey there-"

Tommy had tears streaming down his face again.

Nikki sighed, "You said you didn't do it. What is it you didn't do?"
He thought it would make the kid - well, technically, Tommy wasn't a kid, but he was crying over a chick, so that made Nikki call him a kid - calm down but it just made him cry even more. Nikki sighed, about to speak when Tommy started talking again.

"She's saying I'm framing her. It's not framing if she actually did stab me!" he was close to hysterics, and pulled down his shirt's collar, showing the bandage on his shoulder.

An unreasonable amount of rage filled Nikki again, as he grabbed a bottle of Jack from behind the bar, and took a long drink from it.

"You're not f.ucking going back there, okay?" he said, glaring at Tommy. "If nothing else, you can sleep on my couch till you find somewhere else. You're not going back to that undeserving b.itch."

Tommy as nineteen, for f.uck's sake. No way in hell was he going back there, to "Honey".

Seeing the stab wound, something snapped in Nikki. His grip tightened, breaking the bottle he had clutched, and fragments of glass were everywhere.

"You know what? You're staying with me, kid. I know that face, you're not going back to her."

Chapter Text

Tommy groaned in his sleep, turning over on the couch so that his face was pressed against the armrest. Nikki winced at the sight - that could not be comfortable, with his hurt shoulder pressed against the backrest. Not that it mattered - the kid was far too drunk to realize. Nikki wanted to do something. He didn't know what it was about this Tommy fellow. His mood went from awful to amazing the second he saw Nikki, and creepy as it was that he told him 'I have your poster in my room, dude!' Nikki felt responsible for him. At the very least till he sobered up, so he could f.ucking kick him out without feeling guilty if he got hit by a car.

Nikki stumbled back to his room, separated from the rest of the apartment by a curtain (it didn't matter before - Nikki lived alone, for f.uck's sake), not bothering to change out of his booze stained clothes before crashing on the bed, practically comatose moments later.

Tommy slept like a corpse most of the time, only waking up minutes before Nikki did, sitting on the couch, looking completely disoriented as he took in the unfamiliar apartment. Nikki had quite honestly forgotten he was even there.

"What the hell!" Tommy practically yelled as he saw Nikki, who yelled equally loudly.

"You're the kid from yesterday," Nikki said a minute later. "Right. That's who you are. How's your shoulder?"

"I'm not a kid! My - oh, you saw that," Tommy said, his face instantly falling. "Don't talk about Honey! She didn't mean it..."

Nikki was livid. Tommy was absolutely innocent. Naive. He didn't know this Honey chick but she'd f.ucked him up enough if he thought she didn't mean to stab him with a butter knife. He bit his tongue; Tommy was in pain right now. "Fine. You're right. I don't. Though, I do know that you need to change those f.ucking bandages, man. I think you got booze in them."

Somehow Tommy had reverted back to his natural state already. He looked like he was going to start smiling or some shit. "Yeah, dude. I think I need to do that. Though I'm telling you right now, it's pretty nasty."

Nikki sighed, getting Tommy's shirt off, and slowly peeling off the bandages. "It's already dried, so this will hurt," He said, frowning. Tommy clasped his hand. "What now?!"

"Just... Slowly, okay?" Tommy looked up at Nikki with what he thought were the biggest eyes he'd ever seen.

"You know what? Sure," he said, as he went to get the bandages from the cabinet and slowly peeled off the bandages from Tommy's shoulder. Tommy was right - it was the most disgusting knife wound he'd seen in a long time...

*/tw

"That's it! I am done with you, and there is no way in hell I am living here anymore," Frankie said, pulling out the stiletto blade he'd taken from one of the 'degenerates' he was always around. "Between those assholes you're somehow always with - don't make that f.ucking face, you know as well as I do that they are. Not like you ever cared what I told you about anything before. Or anything that happened to me before. Are you forgetting the whole Jack situation? Or is Frankie, your own son, not worth a second thought?"

"Frankie! Frankie no!" Deana was screaming, Frankie was unaffected, he plunged the blade into the skin below his elbow, a sick smile on his face. He pushed it in. He was making it deeper and deeper. It didn't even hurt - it was more mesmerizing than anything else...

\tw*

“Who’s Frankie?”

Nikki snapped out of his trance. “None of your f.ucking business, kid.”

Tommy fell silent. He could feel Nikki getting angry. He stiffened as Nikki moved behind him, letting out a half-scream as he felt a swab on his shoulder, and the burning that followed. Nikki could practically see the tension in his shoulders.

Focus, Nikki!

He put the antiseptic on Tommy’s injured shoulder. The kid had still not calmed own, or reverted back to ‘happy’ the way he usually did.

“What the hell is going on with you?” Nikki hissed, as Tommy jerked his arm away.

“I’m – I’m sorry,” he said, holding still. He clearly was not fine. Nikki could see that. He sighed; it was not his problem, right? For f.uck’s sake, he met this kid that day. He had to get a grip.

Minutes later, Nikki was done. “Don’t move your arm too much,” he said, getting up from behind Tommy, and heading to the front of the couch. Tears were flowing freely down Tommy’s face.

“Don’t make me go back,” Tommy choked out. “This…This isn’t the first time she did something like this, Nikki. I’m sorry, but can I-”

“Stay here. Yeah. I told you yesterday. You’re not going back to her.”

As soon as he said that, Nikki was engulfed in a bone crushing hug. He sat there, frozen, as Tommy laid his head on his shoulder. “Thank you, Nikki Sixx. Can I ask you for one last favour? You don’t have to do it.”

Nikki sighed. “What is it?”

“I know myself. I am going to try to go back to her. Can you please try to stop me? Do whatever it takes. A whack on the head. Hell, even a punch in the jaw. Just…Please? And if you do see her, can you help me avoid her?”

Nikki didn’t know what came over him. He didn’t know why he was doing this, it was crazy. He never needed anyone before, and he doesn’t need anyone now. He doesn’t owe the world anything, and certainly not this Tommy character. This kid better just leave already –

“Yeah, Tommy. I will.”

Chapter Text

Tommy had taken a couple of pens from Nikki's drawer, and was tapping them against the side of the bed. He'd felt guilty about just crashing here and not doing anything all day, so he'd cleaned Nikki's apartment. A thank-you of sorts, while Nikki was at work that day.

He was tapping out a beat on the side of the bed, vocalizing the drums as he did. It wasn't remotely close to his drum set back in Covina, which he sorely missed. Honey had hated his music – whenever he wanted to play, he went to a music store and played on their drum set till he got kicked out of the store. It was one of the things he missed most.

He lost himself while drumming – almost like it flowed through him because of some external force, and he was just an amplifier. He loved this – he called it reaching Drliss. Even his sister Athena thought that was a stupid name, but he didn't care, people always thought he was stupid, no matter what he did. Plus, what else was he supposed to call it, 'drummer bliss'? Now that was stupid. With a capital stupid.

"You a drummer?"

Tommy half jumped out of his skin when he heard someone behind him. He snapped his head back, relieved to see that it was just Nikki. Just Nikki. He almost laughed at the thought that it could ever be just Nikki Sixx.

"Yeah, dude! Though my drum set's still in my parent's place in Covina. Honey didn't really like it, so I left it there. Good thing is, though, that a few music stores on the boulevard let me practice there when I want to. Oh, and I hope it's cool that I cleaned the place up a bit – saw a few roaches and shit, it was f.ucking nasty man. I fried them with a lighter, now that was fun-"

"Breathe!" Nikki said, half-smiling. "Breathe, Tommy."

Tommy laughed as Nikki said that. "Right. That. I somehow always forget to do that when I talk. I talk a lot, when I'm in the mood to, anyways. To be fair, it is almost always. Just tell me if it's irritating, yeah? I've heard it gets irritating."

Nikki nodded, "Okay, but really, don't worry about it."

He wasn't looking at Tommy, but he swears he could feel the room become less tense, knowing immediately that he'd just smiled again.

"Enough about me, dude that's all we've been talking about. How was your day?"

Nikki sat down next to him, "Same old same old, really. But I need a new band, I can't just wait here, doing nothing while potential rivals take everything," He said, "So far, I thought I'd only have a bassist if I started planning already – but looks like I've got a drummer, too."

"You – you're kidding me, right? Nikki Sixx from London wants me in his band? Yeah, of course! Damn, my parents wanted to send my drum set here for so long, now they can have their garage back, too. Can we keep it here?"

Nikki didn't know what it was about Tommy that made him feel so at ease, so happy, and so calm. He loved the feeling – he had a taste, and he craved more. "We'll have to move most of this stuff in here, but yeah. We can leave your drums here, sleep in my room, and use this as a rehearsal space. Not like we're going to be home much at all once the band takes off, or even before it does."

"You're sure it's not too much, right Sixx? I totally get it if it is, living with me isn't easy, I'm told I have 'too much energy' and shit-"

Nikki did something he hadn't done in a long time – not genuinely, anyhow. He laughed. A small laugh, unnoticed when most people do it. "It's fine, Tommy. It's all fine."

"Are you smiling, Sixxter? The scary, dangerous bassist from London is smiling? Damn, something's gone right for you today." Tommy was grinning widely, twirling the pens between his fingers. "Dude, I've been watching London's shows since you guys played the Starwood, I don't think I've ever seen you smile before."

All Nikki could do was roll his eyes - this guy was going to be the death of him. And he wasn't sure that he minded, at all.

Chapter Text

"Nikki! Nikki! Hey, Nikki!"

Nikki groaned as he got up, propping himself up with his elbows. "Yeah, Tommy?" He says, cursing the kid in his mind. It was too damn early to wake up. For any reasonable person, anyway.

"Dude! I saw you had the stuff, so I used up whatever I needed to to make it! Man, I think they turned out good, too!"

"Tommy, can you please be a bit more vague? I understood what you were saying a bit too well."

"Oh! Right, dude. Uh - it might take a few more minutes. Back to sleep!" He said, placing both hands on Nikki's shoulders and pushing him back down onto the bed, pulling the blanket over his face. 

"C'mon, T-Bone, I'm already awake," Nikki groaned as he felt Tommy's hand on his face, covering his eyes.

Tommy giggled, "T-Bone? Okay, Sixxter," he said, "Just - two more minutes, yeah? Please? I've got a surprise that's getting ready. Don't worry, it doesn't blow up. Unless I messed up real bad. Uh - how about this, we keep talking so I don't have to wake you up again? Man, when you sleep, you sleep hard, like that's the last sleep in the world and you're gonna take it and use it as well as you can. It's gnarly, dude, really similar to everything else you do."

Nikki smiled to himself, secretly glad the blanket still covered the lower half of his face while Tommy's hands covered the upper half. "Do you want me to close my eyes and lie down, pretending to wake up when you get the 'surprise' here?" He asked, earning a nod so enthusiastic he could feel the air in the room moving. "Okay, then, I'll close my eyes, lie down, and pretend to sleep."

He heard Tommy humming as he pulled the blanket over himself again, taking in a deep breath as he finally felt himself become lucid enough to carry on with the day.

"Done!" Tommy said, pulling the blanket off Nikki. "Come on, dude! I think you'll like it."

Nikki got up, following Tommy to the small counter he had next to the fridge and stove and gasped.

"You made this?" He asked, looking at the french toast on it. Tommy grinned. "T-Bone! You didn't have to do this!"

"I wanted to - plus I saw the stuff and couldn't help myself. Anyway, I thought you could use a change from instant coffee for breakfast. Try it!"

Nikki took a bite - it was still warm. "This is easily the best thing I've eaten in weeks," He said, letting his hair fall onto his face to hide a grin. Before he knew it, he'd eaten both the slices Tommy made for him, causing the younger one to look at him with a joy Nikki never thought could be associated with him.

He smiled back - at this point, he couldn't really help himself.

Then Tommy did something even more unexpected.

Nikki felt his long, gangly arms wrap around him, pulling him into a tight hug. He awkwardly placed one of his hands on Tommy's back, and rested his chin on Tommy's shoulder. Just as soon as it started, however, the hug was over, and Tommy let go to clear away the plates.

"See you when you get back from work, man," He said, after glancing at the clock. Nikki sighed, giving Tommy a half-smile before leaving.

*

"What the f.uck are you doing?!" Nikki said, his face paling as he got back home from work. Everything of his was on the floor, surrounding Tommy. His notebooks, pens, all the song lyrics he'd written on tissue paper, whenever inspiration struck.

Tommy basically had the gateway to his soul. The worst part? He didn't even know it – he was sitting there, tapping his fingers against his thigh, and humming the lyrics. Nikki felt exposed. Vulnerable. He was not ready for it, he didn't want this-

"You've mentioned Frankie here again, who is he?"

Nikki froze.

He knows. He knows. He knows. Heknowsheknowsheknowsheknows-

"Dude?"

Nikki was shaking. "Say one more thing and I will not be responsible for what happens here today, I swear on my life, kid."

"What the hell?"

Tommy couldn't finish. Nikki threw a bottle of Jack across the room, shattering it against a wall. "Some things are private, kid. Go back to school or wherever the f.uck you're from," Nikki said. "F.ucking say something! Don't just stare at me like an idiot –"

"Just tell me-"

"Shut up! Shut up shut up shut up! You don't know shit - just get out before the situation gets worse. Learn the meaning of privacy, kid. I'd kept these in a drawer under the bed how the f.uck did you get them?" Nikki was shaking. He couldn't be weak. Not right now, with this guy who'd already looked through what he wrote. Pretty on the inside? This guy's the only one who'll know. He's seen my insides, they're laid out in front of him and he's smiling at them. Sadistic bastard. Bet he likes this.

"I just - I was cleaning the place, I did that yesterday too, and you looked so happy once you saw it clean, I wanted to do that again. I thought there were clothes under the bed, Nikki, and when I saw lyrics I just wanted to help with that - for our band, remember?" Tommy's face somehow fell even more as he talked - Nikki was not happy. He looked hurt, even. It broke Tommy's heart - he could never handle people being sad around him, but because of him? That made him feel awful. Worse than usual this time. Maybe Honey was right when she said it, he always meant well, but he f.ucked up. He was a f.uck up. No doubt Nikki thought so too, now.

"Get out right now, Tommy. Get out. I need to be alone for a while, without you looking through the lyrics I wrote for myself."

"I'll leave. I'm sorry, Nikki Sixx," Tommy said, shaking a bit as he got up and walked out of the apartment. "I'm sorry, Nikki. I just wanted to help. I uh- I'll be on the roof of the building if you - never mind."

Nikki slammed the door shut behind Tommy, sinking to the floor as he heard his footsteps receding. It had been so long since he heard the name "Frankie" said by someone else. He could not bear that. He was not Frankie, never again. The name had brought him nothing but pain, for as long as he was Frankie. The only refuge he had was the lyrics he wrote, only for himself. And Tommy saw it.

Tommy. He felt a twinge of guilt – Tommy's positive demeanor, the way he tried to make Nikki happy despite knowing him for less than a few hours, everything about him, no matter how infuriating he thought it was initially. He couldn't leave Tommy outside. Nikki was still beyond furious that he'd read those lyrics, of course. That wasn't something he could forgive.

But Tommy was the first person in so long who cared. He was the first person to laugh with him, to even try to listen to him when he needed someone to listen. This was the first taste Nikki had ever gotten of it. He was not ready to let it go. Not yet, when it lasted little over a day. Selfish as it was, he wanted Tommy to come back. Now. Even though it was him that pushed Tommy away.

Just another man in my life you're going to push away.

He was doing to himself what Deana always accused him of doing to her - forcing away the people he started to care about.

Chapter Text

Tommy was sitting alone on the roof, his legs pulled close towards himself. He looked up at the sky - something he used to do as a kid to calm himself down - and blinked, looking for the constellations he loved pointing out.

Orion. Ursa Major. Pegasus.

He bit his lip, playing with the frayed hem of his jeans before taking a second to look down. He ran a hand through his hair, sighing softly to himself. At least he'd managed to get away from Honey, right? The rest didn't matter. It's okay. It was all okay. Just like the skies are magenta, it's all okay.

He let out a dry laugh to himself, before looking back up at the sky. There weren't as many stars visible in Los Angeles as there were in Athens, or even Covina. He ran a hand trough his hair, counting them.

One, two, three - wait, I know there are supposed to be more. What if while I'm counting them, there's wind, and some of the clouds go away? How do I count them then? And what if there's a star I count twice accidentally? Do I start again?

Tommy was lost in thought, leaning against the brick wall on the entrance to the roof of the building. He lay his head back, half closing his eyes as he thought about summer when he was a kid. All those nights, stealing snacks and sitting on the roof till he got tired enough to go back to his room. Or, on other days, just fell asleep there, in the middle of the flat portion of the roof just above the garage.

There was always something that was just beautiful and calming about the night sky for Tommy, no matter what was going on.

He felt his eyes about to close, and didn't bother fighting it. He smiled and leaned back-

When the door slammed open. Tommy opened his eyes, snapping his head back. No, it couldn't be...

But it was - Nikki was standing on the rooftop, running a hand through his unkempt hair as he mumbled under his breath.

"Nikki?" Tommy said, slightly confused as Nikki turned to face him, relief flooding his features as he saw the younger one seated against the roof. His eyes are such a nice shade of green, Tommy thought to himself, as the moon hit Nikki's face just right.

Niki crouched next to Tommy, before sitting down so their faces were on the same level. "Nikki, I-"

Nikki cut him off. "I know," he said, inhaling deeply. "I know, Tommy. You told me. You're sorry," he said, brushing some stray hair out of Tommy's face. "For what it's worth, I - f.uck, I'm bad at this."

"Nikki, it's okay, you don't need to say anything. I'll find another place to stay, really, you don't have to deal with me anymore."

"No! No, Tommy, that's not what I'm saying," he said, "I - Tommy, I over reacted."

Tommy sat there, frozen. "I shouldn't have gotten violent earlier - I know you didn't get hurt, but I shouldn't have thrown that bottle of Jack either way. I shouldn't have yelled at you so much, I shouldn't have kicked you out of the apartment, and I shouldn't have just... Made you leave.

"Don't say anything, let me finish. I was scared, Tommy. I'm not used to having someone look out for me, it's not something I'll get used to any time soon, either. But the thing is, I've started caring about you, Tommy. And that scares me. You have no idea how much it scares me. Those lyrics I wrote - yeah, I'm mad that you read them. But I'm more mad at myself for treating you the way I did once I found out you read them. Hell, till I over reacted, you probably thought they were a random story I came up with."

Tommy nodded slowly. "Yeah, I did. Or like about a friend or something, since you mentioned Frankie earlier-"

"They're about my worst enemy, Tommy. I am Frankie."

Tommy fell silent again, before looking up at Nikki. "Is it okay if I hug you, Nikki? I usually do that when I want to apologize to someone, but this morning when I hugged you you weren't the biggest fan of it."

Nikki didn't say anything, just sat down next to Tommy and opened his arms for him, as Tommy half flung himself at Nikki, hugging his gangly arms around Nikki, hugging him tightly as he buried his face in Nikki's shoulder. Nikki bit his bottom lip, slowly stroking Tommy's brown hair as he held him on the rooftop. Tommy inhaled deeply, curling up against Nikki. "Hey, um is it okay if we spend the night here?" he asked.

"How come?"

"I like looking at the stars, Nik," he said, still holding onto Nikki.

"Yeah, sure, Tommy," Nikki said, almost without thinking.

Tommy beamed - the moon reflected in his teeth as Nikki gave him a slight smile back, before they both got comfortable lying down. "I love roofs so much, I used to spend all night on the roof in summer when I lived in Covina. I'm so glad this place has a railing around the edge of the roof, it means it's possible to just lie down here. Do you know any constellations? I know a few, can I point them out to you? It's fun pointing them out."

Nikki smiled to himself as he felt Tommy go back to being himself. Motormouth. Sweet, though.

"Yeah, I know a few. You see that there?" Nikki said, pointing to a cluster of stars. "That's the Great Penis."

Tommy laughed, "No, dude, I'd remember if there was a Great Penis. That's not a real constellation."

"Yeah, it is, man - sailors used to navigate by the Great Penis. You can look it up," Nikki said, hoping to hear Tommy's laugh again.

"No, man, that's not a thing," Tommy said, unable to stop himself from laughing again. "B-But, that's pretty damn close to Pegasus. The Winged Horse."

"There's no Great Penis, but there's a winged horse? Pshhh."

Tommy laughed. "Yeah, man! You can see it if you look hard enough."

"Yeah? Tell me more," Nikki said, not even looking at the sky anymore.

"You see that cluster there? Those four stars, forming a sort of sideways L - that's the leg," Tommy said, pointing at the sky. "The square's the body..."

Nikki wasn't even listening anymore, just smiling at Tommy as he talked. "Yeah, I see it," He said, as Tommy smiled at him, inching closer.

Tommy pointed out a few more - The Great Dipper, Ursa Minor, Orion - and all Nikki could do was sit and watch as Tommy pointed out clumps of stars Nikki couldn't even tell the difference between. Tommy had moved closer to him, and was resting his head on Nikki's shoulder, yawning. Nikki smiled, nodding enthusiastically as Tommy pointed out the constellations he knew, before he fell asleep. On Nikki.

Nikki stroked his hair, he had promised Tommy they could stay here all night, and sighed before closing his own eyes, falling asleep soon after.

Chapter Text

Nikki blinked as he let his eyes adjust to the light. He looked around, squinting at the nearly blinding sky. He looked down, smiling when he saw Tommy curled up against his chest. His neck was stiff – but that’s to be expected considering he slept on a concrete roof with the giraffe of a drummer curled up against him. He pried out one hand from under Tommy, using it to remove his hair from his eyes as he tried to sit up. It was still morning, but only so in the vaguest definition of the word. Tommy was snoring softly, seemingly unaware that he was using Nikki’s chest as a pillow. He held Tommy’s head in his hands as he shifted slightly, not wanting to wake the younger one up just yet.

Propping himself up on his elbows, Nikki took another look around. It was a clear day, and the streets were busy. At the moment, he was just glad he had the day off. He stared off into space, absent-mindedly stroking Tommy’s hair as he slept. He tilted his head back, looking up at the sky again, the way he did last night with Tommy. He didn’t know what was happening – he wasn’t this soft with anyone except him. Clearly, he hid it well enough; though he couldn’t help but wonder why this maybe-drummer had such a profound impact on him.

He looked at Tommy, curled up against him. He winced slightly at the sight of the stab wound on his shoulder, though from the way Tommy was sleeping comfortably, Nikki assumed the other bruises Honey had left had mostly healed – something he was grateful for. He watched Tommy sleep for a while, before closing his eyes again. He stroked Tommy’s hair in his sleep, smiling slightly as Tommy made a slight noise of contentment while moving closer to him. Nikki zoned out, staring off the rooftop as Tommy slept.

Nikki had lost track of time; he thought about Tommy, the band he wanted, life on tour if they ever did. It seemed so far away, yet so real at the same time.

He finally had a shot at making it.

He felt Tommy stir against his chest, before suddenly feeling his head lift off his chest. “Hey, Nikki,” Tommy mumbled, still completely disoriented. “Did I fall asleep on you, man? Shit,” he said, sitting up slightly. “Where’s your house, dude?”

It took all of Nikki’s strength not to laugh at that. “We’re on the roof of the building, Tommy,” He said, “After last night…”

Tommy nodded, “The Great Penis,” He said with full seriousness. “Right.”

At this point, Nikki couldn’t help but laugh, to the point where his sides started hurting. Tommy smiled as he laughed, eventually joining in.

“Yeah, man, that’s one hell of a constellation.” Tommy yawned at the end, putting his head back on Nikki’s chest, his hair spreading out around him.

“Hey, Tommy?” Nikki said as he made eye contact with Tommy. “I could make breakfast today – I have the day off work. It won’t be anything as good as French Toast, but I could make a grilled cheese or something, if you’d like-“ He was cut off by Tommy nodding enthusiastically.

“Yeah, man, that sounds great! Oh and another thing – I have a bit of cash in my jeans pocket, I just remembered – enough for a trip to this one backyard party. It’s today at four, I thought you’d want to come. There’s an open bar, too.”

Nikki sighed a bit. What was the harm, anyhow? “Yeah, okay. Where are we going?”

Tommy grinned. “Covina. We can get my drums, too,” He said, smiling. “If the band thing is still gonna happen. I mean, I get it if it’s not, I royally fucked up, dude.”

Nikki laughed. “Sure, we can go to Covina. You got the money for a round trip, plus drums?” He said, raising one eyebrow.

“We’ll only need to pay for the trip there – my parents got me a van, I left it there because – uh, she – figured we wouldn’t need it. I think it’s got enough gas.”

Nikki nodded, “Okay, T-Bone. Sounds great, we’ll just need to figure out where to park. Today, four o’clock, we’ll head to Covina.”

*

The bus was cramped – Nikki was sure he’d smell like shit when he got off despite the fact that he’d just put on fresh clothes. That were actually fresh, not just relatively. The saving grace of the journey was the fact that – thank god – the two of them managed to get seats next to a window that opened. Tommy sat next to the window, and Nikki was next to him, leaning back in the seat. Tommy had been talking about something, but it was too cramped for Nikki to focus. He’d settled for the good old smile-and-nod.

“You know, what, Nikki?”

Nikki was caught off guard; Tommy had gotten his attention. “What?”

 “I’ve always been good at reading people.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah, my mom said it was a gift. She said I could always see things about a person they didn’t show too much.”

“Prove it, drummer,” Nikki laughed.

“I’m serious! I can figure things out about people.”

“Okay, and I’m asking for proof.”

Tommy took a deep breath in. “Fine, I’ll do that about you, yeah?” he said, looking at Nikki who just nodded in agreement. Tommy let his head roll a bit to the side, so he was staring Nikki in the eye – not in a threatening way, but more of a comforting way. Nikki stared back into Tommy’s eyes, letting a slight smile form on his face.

Tommy started talking. “You feel things very intensely.”

Nikki couldn’t hold back a laugh. “I barely feel anything at all, Tommy. Much less intensely – shit, are you high, dude?”

Tommy looked exasperated. “You didn’t let me finish,” he said, his lower lip sticking out.

Nikki looked at him – that expression alone made him feel guilty about cutting Tommy off so soon. He sighed; turning slightly to face him again. “I’m sorry – but I’m serious, Tommy. I don’t really feel that much – it’s just a fact at this point. I don’t feel intensely at all.”

“What I meant to say is when you let down the armour that you almost always have up, you tend to feel things very intensely because of how much you hide it. You’re a sensitive guy; you just don’t like showing it. You hide it behind song lyrics and being angry when someone finds a vulnerability of yours.”

Nikki fell silent for a second; he bent his head down till his hair covered his eyes. “That much of an open book, am I?” he said, laughing a bit. “Your mom’s right. You’re good at this.”

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to-“

Nikki put his hand on Tommy’s, shaking his head a bit. “Don’t need to apologize.”

They spent the rest of the ride in a comfortable silence.

Chapter Text

The party had already started when Nikki and Tommy arrived. People were drunk by the pool, and a few had taken the opportunity to just jump into the water to cool off. Nikki felt out of place; Tommy was ecstatic. The second they arrived, Tommy got swept away in conversation with a few people he presumably knew from when he lived in Covina earlier. Nikki sighed, taking an open bottle of Jack. He’d never been good with people – even as a kid, he never got what to say to a new person.

Hi, I’m Nikki. Who’s your favourite serial killer? Mine’s good Ol’ Charlie Manson.

Yeah, that never worked. He should know – he’s tried it. It’s just easier when someone else keeps the conversation going.

He took a seat, watching the party go on. There were girls in bikini tops and crop tops, and most of the guys wore lighter colours, too. Nikki, in his dark leather pants and olive jacket stood out like the sore thumb he was. Then again, Tommy had been dressed similar to him, and he had no problem at all…

He shook his head, turning back to his drink. He was awful at this, wasn’t he? It was different when he was on the Strip; nobody really gave a shit about anything. Partying was a lifestyle – in Covina, it was a side thing. Tommy had gone to get his van – and drums, of course – and said he’d be gone for at least an hour. He walked around, looking at people and mentally pointing out everything wrong with them.

That haircut makes you look eighty - just because it's the nineteen eighties, doesn't mean you need to LOOK eighty. Hawaiian shirt? Really? Oh for fuck’s sake – sandals?

“Hey f.uck you, asshole,” someone snarled, audibly spitting on someone else. Nikki grinned – this was exactly what this party needed.

“The f.uck is going on, blondie?”

The shorter guy glared. A few of the ones around started laughing. “F.uck, this little kid’s going to do something?”

There was a cracking sound, and blood flowed down his face.

Nikki grinned. Finally.  “I don’t know who you are, but I’m with you here. You’ve got balls,” he whispered to the blond, who grinned back. “Ready?”

“F.uck yeah.”

The blond pushed his hair back, before sprinting forward, connecting his fist with the other man’s face, knocking him onto the ground. Nikki grinned, elbowing one in the gut and smashing a bottle on the ground in front of another. He felt himself get slammed onto the floor, a faint metallic taste in his mouth. “You motherf.ucker,” he snarled, getting back up onto his feet and connecting his fist with the jaw of the other man.

“F.uck!” The blond screamed as his assailant slammed him against a wall. Nikki glared, throwing a chair out of the way.

“Think twice next time, motherf.ucker,” He growled, punching him in the throat and pulling the blond away from the wall.

A van slowed down in front of the yard. Nikki sprinted towards it, the blond following.  “Get the f.uck in, Nikki!” Tommy yelled from the van. “It’s not locked – oh hey, Vince.”

Nikki bolted to the front, riding shotgun as the blond – Vince – climbed in the back. “Hey, Tommy. Hope you don’t mind.”

“Hey, f.ucker,” Tommy said, laughing as he started to drive. “Mind the drums.”

“You know him?” Nikki asked, confused.

“I slept in Tommy’s van for a while. It’s a long story; I’m not saying anything about it. Let me guess, you know Tom from LA?”

Nikki just nodded. “I stole a bottle of Jack. You want some?”

Vince just nodded as Nikki passed it back, taking a long swig.

“I’m gonna close my eyes, f.ucking sun’s too damn bright,” Nikki snarled, leaning back in his seat and closing his eyes.

*

“Aaaaaand he’s asleep before we’re even out of Covina. He’s a real tough guy, that one,” Tommy laughed, leaning back in his seat as he drove. “How’ve you been, Vince?”

Vince snapped out of his daydream, “Oh. Sorry, spaced out. A lot better, actually. It’s gotten so much better since…” He trailed off. Tommy just nodded; he knew exactly what Vince was talking about.

“That’s good. Amazing, actually. Though I take it the guys in Rock Candy didn’t know?”

“You’re the only one that knows. Or, well, remembers. A perk of being flat as fuck – it’s easier to pass. Same goes for having a ‘low’ voice,” He said, giving a dry laugh at the end of the sentence. “Though I left Rock Candy, today was my last gig with them. Backyard party circuit is great for getting chicks, but I don’t know if I’m ready to… You know. On the plus side, I’ve got cash from most gigs and I’m a licensed electrician, so it’ll be pretty easy for me to get a job.”

Tommy nodded – ever since Vince came out to him, Tommy just understood.

That’s the best thing about him, Vince thought.

A comfortable silence fell over them, with Vince and Tommy’s slow breaths the only sounds in the car other than the noise from the engine as they headed back to LA. Tommy had spaced out, and was staring at the road as he drove.

“You know, you’re the only one who called me Vince without fail ever since the moment I told you,” He said, “Nobody else got it – not my ‘friends’, not my ‘boyfriend’ and sure as hell not my parents. Thank you, Tommy.”

Tommy smiled softly, “No problem at all, Vince. It’s who you are – calling you anything else would be weird. It would be as off as calling me Vassilikki.”

Vince let out a laugh, “Yeah, I guess so, Tommy.”

Vince always liked Tommy’s sense of humour. Even when they were friends in Covina, he always felt like Tommy was one of the few people he really… connected with. Maybe it was his open mind, maybe it was his empathy, or maybe it was his humour. Maybe it was a mixture of all three. Vince didn’t know, and frankly, he didn’t care. Tommy got him, he liked Tommy. That was all that mattered – they were friends. Somehow, even after Tommy moved to LA, he was exactly where Vince needed him to be, at the exact moment he needed him.

 Vince was thankful for Tommy. He craved some form of a healthy friendship – one not filled with lies and manipulation. Any relationship like that, actually. Family was supposed to be like that. They’d filled his head with lies. “We’ll always love you,” they’d said. Sure had a strange way of showing it.

He dug his nails into his hand, staring out of the window. He couldn’t cry. Not now, not with this other guy in the van. He didn’t want to answer any questions for this stranger. He leaned his head against the window as Tommy turned on the radio, silently staring out as they drove back to Los Angeles.

Chapter Text

“Get up, tough guy, we’re back,” Tommy laughed, shaking Nikki a bit, earning nothing but a groan and a fuck you from the older one. Tommy held Nikki’s forearm for a second, tugging at it in a last effort to wake him up, when his eyes fell on a long scar on Nikki’s arm. Tommy absent-mindedly ran his finger along it, trying to figure out some sort of explanation. His mind drew a blank.

Nikki jerked awake, inhaling deeply.

“Fuck, man, we reach already?” he said, suddenly aware of where they were. Vince let out a slight laugh; when Nikki slept, he slept hard.

“Yeah, dude! Oh, and you know that apartment next to yours? Vince has the cash to rent it! Isn’t that great? It’s going to be so awesome, man!” Tommy grinned, not realizing Nikki was still groggy and disoriented.

“Mmmmmmmmm,” Nikki managed to get out, stretching a bit as he stood up. “Mhm.”

It took all of Vince’s strength to not laugh at that as Nikki blinked, trying to let his eyes adjust to the light. “Uh – I’m going to talk to the landlord, the studio apartment next to yours is free, I just want to get the contract signed, and stuff,” he mumbled, only just clear enough for the other two to hear what it was he had just said. Tommy nodded enthusiastically, Nikki just nodded.

Nikki was starting to regret drinking as much Jack as he did; “What do you say we keep the drum in Vince’s apartment? That way we don’t need to move, plus, it is right next to ours!” Tommy said, grinning. “Dude, Vince is gonna love this idea! He’s looking for a band too, you know? He’s got an amazing voice. And vocal range.”

Nikki felt something in his gut – not a good one, either. Yeah, this Vince guy was good. Hell, he was amazing as a singer. He made a f.ucking cover band sound good, Nikki had to admit. There was, however, a small part of him that didn’t like how well he and Tommy got along – two physically affectionate extroverts around each other was basically the recipe for friendly hugs, constantly holding hands, and, worst of all, long, in depth conversations with strangers. Nikki liked talking to interesting people – the problem was, Tommy thought everyone was interesting. Nikki sighed; Vince was clearly Tommy’s friend already – they knew each other from Covina. He felt himself getting irritable; he assumed it was the hangover setting in.

“That’s… A good idea, Lee,” He said, forcing himself to nod a bit.

They sat down on the footpath, their feet on the road as they waited for Vince – the meeting with the landlord would decide if he was even moving in. Nikki leaned back, using his arms to prop himself up. He bit his lip. “Tommy?”

“Yeah, Nik?”

“How well do you know Vince?”

Tommy grinned. “We were friends in high school – first couple of years, everyone in school loved him. He was awesome, the literal coolest. I thought he was a fun guy – shitty friends, cool guy, you know? Anyway, some friend drama or something happened in junior year, and he became a bit of a loner. He was still one of my friends, obviously, so we started hanging out for a while till he dropped out of school to form a band – Rock Candy.”

Nikki just nodded, feeling the pang from earlier again. He bit his lip, nodding. “He seems cool, he’s got balls. Most 5’ 9” guys don’t fight as well as he does.”

Tommy smiled a bit, nodding. “Yeah, he’s cool.”

*

Three hours later, they’d finished putting Tommy’s drums in Vince’s place. It was a significantly cleaner place than Nikki’s – though to be fair, Nikki was a messy person. He’d lost track of the amount of times he’d put out his cigarettes in the wall this week alone. Tommy had a giant shit eating grin on his face once they were done. The place was already semi-furnished, or as Vince put it, ‘as furnished as it absolutely needs to be’. He’d gone out to get clothes for himself, Tommy tagging along for ‘second opinions’. Nikki had been about to volunteer to come too, but Tommy cut him off saying it’s a nostalgia thing. Not that Nikki actually cared. Right? Who gives a shit about clothes? Hell, Vince can have Tommy all to himself if that’s what the bastard wants-

Oh.

Oh.

He swore loudly, punching the wall.

You can’t fall for the first person who gave enough of a shit to stay for more than a couple of days, idiot. That messes shit up. F.ucking dumbass!

He clenched his teeth, inhaling deeply as he stuck his hand down his pocket, pulling out his lighter, flicking it on. Watching the flame was always oddly soothing for him; it managed to calm him down just enough every time. He sighed to himself. He had to leave. He couldn’t let Vince see him like this. He definitely couldn’t let Tommy. Not again.

Nikki’s breath got caught in his throat as he turned off the lighter, sprinting to his apartment and locking the door shut. He pulled the curtains closed, sliding against a wall and trying to get his breathing under control again. He pulled his knees closer to himself, the way he used to when he was much younger, when he was still vulnerable (though, come to think of it, he was, once again, vulnerable).

He ran his hands through his hair, pulling at it till he felt a few strands too many tear off, breathing heavily as he tried in vain to get his tears to go back into his eyes, instead of flowing over the sides of it. He clenched his jaw, digging his fingers into his arm as he made one final attempt to calm himself down.

He thought about his goal – the only thing he wanted from life. Success. Enough to finally cause Deana the regret she deserves. He bit his lip once more, thinking about how she’d never given a crap – and how, if his aunt’s words were to be trusted, she’d refused to even look at him for the first three weeks of his life. If Tommy spending all his time with Vince was the price he had to pay for it, Nikki knew he had to let it happen.

Even so, Tommy lived with Nikki. Not Vince.For the moment, that was enough of a source of comfort for Nikki.

Chapter Text

Tommy and Vince returned a few hours later, putting the bags in a closet in Vince's apartment and heading over to Tommy and Nikki's place for a cup of coffee as Tommy had promised. It had been a good trip for them both - Vince got a job, too. As an Electrician. Tommy got one in a cafe. Neither were amazing ones, but they were good enough to pay for rent and food. Tommy was happy - he was away from Honey, saved from who knows how many other bad decisions, living with a friend and right next door to another one and able to play his drums again.

Yeah, he knew he didn't need too much to be happy. It's why he almost always was - the less you need for something, the more often you do it. That was his philosophy, and it seemed to be working fine so far. Vince was getting ready, taking a shower and things like that. Tommy didn't know why Vince bothered, he was going to get sweaty again anyway. He shrugged. To each his own, he thought as he opened his and Nikki's door.

He gasped.

Nikki was passed out on the floor, his cheeks stained with tears. By the looks of it, he'd been out for at least an hour. He lay uncomfortably, his breathing still ragged as he 'slept' on the floor, visibly uncomfortable. Tommy crouched down.He placed one hand on Nikki's shoulder, shaking him slightly. 

"Sixx? Sixx!" He said, trying in vain to wake the older one. There was no use - Nikki lay there, just shaking a bit in his sleep. Tommy recognized the expression on Nikki's face as he slept - something had hurt Nikki. He grabbed one arm of his, wrapping it around his neck as he slipped his arm around Nikki's torso, half-carrying half-dragging Nikki to the bed as he helped Nikki lie down, taking off his shoes and pulling the curtain separating the sleeping area and the  rest of the apartment. He sighed, softly stroking Nikki's hair as the older man slept, trying to give him some form of comfort. He leaned back, his back touching the headboard oh the bed as he stayed with Nikki, getting worried about his new friend as he slept. The scar on Nikki's arm was easily visible. Tommy glanced at it, trying not to stare at the gash that was nearly four or five inches long. He automatically thought of his own shoulder - but that was a single stab, maybe half a centimetre deep. Nikki's knife wound looked like it had been, based on the scar, at least twice as deep. 

Tommy interlaced their fingers, moving his thumb over Nikki's knuckles. He felt some of the tension on Nikki's arm vanish as he did that, smiling to himself a bit. He lay down next to Nikki, turning onto his side so as to face Nikki's sleeping figure. He stroked Nikki's cheek slightly, resting his forehead against Nikki's. He felt Nikki physically relax, and wiped away a few tears that came down his face. He smiled a bit as he felt him relax and lose the tension, leaning back and looking at the ceiling.

Absent-mindedly, he stroked the back of Nikki's hand with his thumb, not expecting any response from Nikki, but grinning widely when he felt Nikki lightly squeeze back. Tommy wrapped his other arm around him, stroking Nikki's hair as he slept. He'd always been a physically affectionate person, and was happy to see that Nikki liked it - most people didn't. He smiled again as Nikki curled up against him, his breathing getting even again. Tommy'd only had a few friends that liked hugs as much as he did (if, of course, his sister counted as a friend. Then the only other one was Vince. Nobody else seemed to enjoy it, and energetic as he was, Tommy respected people's boundaries. Or at least tried to. Even Honey hated that part of his personality - she had no problem turning a hug session into se.x. It was okay, but Tommy had started missing simple, soft hugs a while back).

*

"Hey, Sixx," Tommy said, smiling at him.

Nikki was disoriented again, looking around and trying to figure out where he was. Didn't he fall asleep on the floor next to the door?

"You looked really uncomfortable on the floor, so I moved you here. Hope that's fine, dude."

Nikki just looked at Tommy for a bit. "Yeah, that's fine. Thanks, Tommy."

"Also I'm so happy you like hugs! Most guys don't. When I moved you here, you felt really tense and shit, so I just stayed and you relaxed so much once I hugged you! Most of the people I know don't like that, but you hugged back! In your sleep!" Tommy was excited, blabbering on the way he did.

"I- huh," Nikki said,turning his face towards the mattress as Tommy said that. It was only a matter of time till Tommy figured out... "Yeah, dude. I like hugs, but only with people I'm comfortable with. You made the cut surprisingly fast."

Tommy seemed to buy it, pulling Nikki into another hug. Nikki was on the verge of tears once more - this time from relief as he hugged Tommy back. He buried his face in Tommy's shirt, like Tommy had done last night on the roof. He let his hair cover his face, smiling as Tommy brushed it out, and feeling himself grow genuinely happy in a way that only Tommy managed to make him.

"Best friend goals," he heard someone say, snapping his head back to see who it was. 

"Hey, Vince," Tommy said, still holding Nikki in his arms. Oddly enough, Nikki didn't feel that bitter jealousy he had felt before - he was the one holding Tommy right now. Not Vince.  

"I got coffee," Vince said, holding up a pot of what smelt like espresso. Nikki forced a smile - he liked Vince. He really did. But he always just had to be better with Tommy than Nikki was, didn't he? He bit the inside of his lip. 

"Coffee sounds great," he said.

Vince grinned. "Great, there's enough for each of us to have two cups in this pot. Put the powder and stuff in before my shower, made a little more than I probably should have, but who can say no to coffee?"

Nikki laughed. He had a point - He didn't mind this guy too much. Just when he was with Tommy.

"Awesome! Did you get a cup for yourself, though? Nikki only has two mugs," Tommy said, "Just use the one you bought today - You know what? You use the cat one, I'll use that - don't want to keep Vince Neil waiting on his coffee, he turns into some sort of swamp monster!" Tommy laughed, getting up.

Nikki held back a sigh as Tommy left, looking over at Vince rinsing out the cups.

"You know if there's something you want to say, you can tell Tommy, right? He doesn't judge - no matter how much you think he would. And he doesn't tell anyone unless you tell him he can."

"It's not that simple..." Nikki trailed off.

"Easier said than done, trust me I know. But there's exactly one person from everyone I knew before I let the cat out of the bag - don't get offended, you're a cool enough guy, I just don't know you well enough to tell you this shit - that treated me the same. Hell, the only one who still treated me like a person."

Nikki frowned, looking at Vince. "I'm not going to ask shit, you clearly aren't in the mood to talk about it. But all I'm saying is that I can't tell Tommy. It's about Tommy."

Vince just nodded, giving Nikki a cup of coffee seconds before Tommy returned with the bright green mug he'd bought for Vince.

"What'd I miss?"

"Vince and I were just talking," Nikki said, internally smiling as Tommy sat right next to him again. Vince didn't look like he minded, which was a shame as that meant Nikki was the only jealous bastard there, but it was what it was, he supposed. He smiled, feeling the genuinely-happy feeling return as Tommy let him lean on his shoulder.

Right now, Nikki was happy.

Chapter Text

After coffee, the rest of the day had gone mostly fine. It was... uneventful. Not in a bad way, it had just been quiet. Calm. Nikki never thought he'd like that. Maybe it was just that he didn't like it alone. He'd never thought about it before. He put the dried plates on the shelf above the sink, pouring himself a beer. It wasn't a big deal - it was just a glass of beer. He glanced at Tommy, asleep already. Nikki had tried to tell Tommy to keep the bed to himself that night - the younger one promptly refused. After a long, long talk, Tommy agreed to sleep there provided they share the bed.

Not like the stab hurts as much as it did a few days back.

Nikki called bullshit, but didn't want to argue. He was tired. Tommy was tired; Vince was already asleep. At least, Nikki thought he'd gone to sleep. For all he knew, Vince had a night job as a Ghostbuster. Maybe that's what he meant when he talked about Tommy being the only one who treated him the same.

Nikki frowned, putting the beer down and keeping it back in the bottle - thank god it was a screw on. It'd be a shame to let a beer go to waste.

I've been listening to Tommy too much, he thought, laughing a bit to himself as he took his shirt off, heading back to the bed and lying down next to Tommy, who was already fast asleep. He pried Tommy's gangly arm off the pillow, stretching out as he lay down next to him, managing to fit on the edge of the bed.

Why the hell did I agree to this, he thought to himself, laughing slightly as he realized Tommy was sprawled out, practically a starfish on the bed. Nikki laughed to himself, kicking Tommy's leg lightly to move it. He felt an immediate pang of jealousy as he saw the slight smile on Tommy's face, shutting his eyes tightly as he shoved that thought down and just closing his eyes.

He had just started to drift off when he jerked awake, feeling something on his shoulder. He inhaled sharply, feeling it and realizing it was Tommy's arm. He slowed down his breathing. In for five seconds, hold for six, out for seven, He thought, using a tip he once heard someone tell him. He didn't bother moving Tommy's arm off him; he just let it stay there. No point waking him up. He sighed again, slowly stroking Tommy's soft skin as he slept, feeling closer to Nikki than he had been when Nikki first got in bed. He sighed, closing his eyes again as he tried to fall asleep.

There was a loud thud the next time Nikki woke up - He looked around, feeling the floor under him. F.uck, I fell out of the bed, He thought as he saw Tommy's leg dangling off. He looked out of the window - No point going back to sleep, he had to go to work soon anyhow. He rubbed his eyes, getting up and walking over to Tommy.

"Get up, Tommy, I need to change your bandage again," He said,tapping on Tommy's leg.

Nope, that was a fail.

"Tommy!" He half-yelled, irritable after not getting any good sleep. "Get up!"

"Shit, sorry, Honey, I didn't mean to oversl- F.UCK!" He said, feeling the stab on his shoulder brush against the bed. 

Nikki immediately felt guilty. "Tommy, it's okay, just me, Nikki," he said, reaching over to place one hand on Tommy's forearm. "I just need to change your bandage. Nothing major."

Tommy's eyes focused, and he visibly relaxed on seeing Nikki. "Oh. Okay. Sorry about that, man."

Nikki just nodded, reaching under the bed for the first aid box. "It's okay. Don't apologize for it, Tommy," he said, getting worried about him. "Something wrong?"

Tommy bit his lip. "I don't- She usually talked like that just before-"

"Don't say anything you don't want to say," Nikki said, as he felt Tommy shaking a bit as he comfortingly placed a hand on his shoulder. "It's okay, Tom. You're going to be okay."

Tommy bent his head forward, letting his messy hair cover his face. "Thank you, Nikki," He said, turning around.

Nikki peeled off be bandage - he felt Tommy wince as he peeled it off the wound itself. He folded it up, dropping it on the floor. Taking the antiseptic on a piece of cheap cotton, he cleaned Tommy's wound again, feeling Tommy flinch. 

"Tommy?"

"Yeah?"

"If uh- if it hurts too much, just squeeze my hand okay?" Nikki gave Tommy his free hand, using the other one to clean the wound. He bit his lip as Tommy squeezed his hand, before rubbing Tommy's knuckled with his thumb as he finally finished cleaning the wound. "Worst's over, Tom," he said softly, as Tommy let his hand go. 

Nikki absent-mindedly ran his fingers through Tommy's soft curls, smiling to himself as Tommy relaxed into his touch, turning his face to nuzzle his hand. "Almost done, Tommy," Nikki said, taking a bandage and medical tape out of the box and putting it on his shoulder. "Yeah, we're done now," He said, unable to stop himself from smiling. 

Tommy turned around.

"Feeling any better, Lee?" Nikki asked him, hoping it hadn't hurt too much.

"Yeah, much. It doesn't feel as moist anymore."

Nikki smiled. "There's cereal and milk if you want - i's not french toast, but I'm nearly late for work."

Tommy nodded. "Sure, man, see you when you get back. I only got a half-day thing, but it pays decently per hour! I am so, so happy it's a barista thing, I'm gonna get to meet so many people!" Tommy was grinning ear to ear. Nikki just smiled, ruffling Tommy's hair a bit. "Take care, drummer boy," He laughed, before leaving.

*

Nikki had just left the building - Tommy rushed to Vince's place.

"Vince! VinceVinceVince!" He said, knocking.

He was greeted by a greasy, disheveled Vince, who was somehow more tired than he was last night. 

"Who hit you with a train?"

"Nobody, but you're going to get hit by one if you don't tell me what's going on," he said, yawning.

"Inside!" Tommy said, pushing past Vince and sitting on the pullout couch.

"Yeah, Tommy?"

"It's about Nikki," He grinned.

Vince was interested. "Spill. Wait, let me guess. Hopeless romantic, getting this hyped up about somebody? You like him, don't you?"

"HE LET ME SQUEEZE HIS HAND WHILE HE CHANGED MY BANDAGE, VINCENT! IT MIGHT BE MUTUAL!"

Vince just laughed. "That's... definitely a maybe, Tommy," He said, "Keep it to yourself, though. For now, anyway. Nikki doesn't strike me as the type who's ready for anything like that."

Tommy nodded. "I'm just gonna act with him the way I act with you. He's chill with that."

Vince smiled, pulling Tommy in for a hug. "Look at you, making the best possible decision!"

Tommy just smiled as he hugged back.

Chapter Text

A week later

Tommy smiled to himself as he let the music take control as he played – Nikki was standing next to the drum set, playing riffs with him and almost perfectly matching his rhythm. There was an aura around Nikki, he thought, when he played bass. Right now, and for the past hour or so, they’d just been jamming – Tommy knew for a fact that Nikki didn’t want to share his lyrics. How could he forget? It had taken its toll on both of them that night.

Vince was still at work – he’d probably take a while to get back. Thank every god there was that Vince gave him the spare keys, laughing and saying that he “wouldn’t dare separate Tommy from his children”. It was an inside joke, Vince was married to himself, and Tommy’s drum set was his child. You wouldn’t separate a mother from her children, would you? Vince had said to Honey before she and Tommy moved to LA. She didn’t find it nearly as funny as Tommy or Vince did, just calling them idiots in addition to throwing a b.itchfest about why Tommy was still friends with Vince given everything once they were alone in the car. Tommy bit the inside of his cheek; he knew he’d just get angry at how she talked about Vince, or sad about leaving her, or something else along those lines. He couldn’t let that happen.

He started drumming more intensely, seeing a smile creeping onto Nikki’s face.

“Ready for some real Rock n’ Roll, backyard party boy?” He grinned, playing a long note as he put his pick into his pocket. Tommy stared at Nikki, nodding and intensifying each beat, feeling the rush he was so familiar with, yet missed so much over the past year. He smiled, feeling the familiar joy pass through himself as he kept drumming till his hands ached.

*

“I got Chinese,” Vince said, unlocking the door to his place and stepping over the numerous cables as he went to Tommy and Nikki, who were bickering with each other on the couch. He laughed, setting the takeout bag on the counter as Tommy sprang up.

“Smells great – got your paycheck too?” He asked, and Vince smiled at him and nodded, engulfing him in a hug. Nikki looked at his hands, playing with the pick he’d kept in his pocket as the two of them hugged. They stopped a few seconds later, and Tommy put the containers on a large enough plate.

“We’re splitting it all – whatever we don’t finish now, we’ll have tomorrow,” He said, as he and Vince sat cross-legged on the floor behind the couch. Nikki bit his lip, getting up and sitting with them.

This is nice, actually, He thought to himself as he felt Tommy shift towards him a bit. He picked up some of the chicken with his fork, putting it in his mouth and chewing. Takeout always did taste best the day it was picked up.

He absent-mindedly put his fork in the plate again, picking up some of the noodles.

“A.sshole!” Tommy’s voice rang out. Nikki snapped back into focus. He’d taken the noodles right off Tommy’s fork, in a nearly empty plate.

For two guys as scrawny as that they can eat like nobody’s business.

He rolled his eyes, shoving the forkful of noodles into his mouth. Vince laughed, watching the horrified expression on Tommy’s face as Nikki laughed, eating the noodles he’d so blatantly stolen.

Nikki smiled, making brief eye contact with Vince as the clearly much younger one laughed, leaning with his back against the couch.

“Get back to your own damn place, you two, you’ve been in here long enough,” Vince laughed as he picked up the now empty plate, playfully glaring at the two of them. Nikki just smirked slightly as Tommy sprung up to his feet, dragging Nikki to the door. Nikki looked at Vince, opening his mouth to speak.

Vince cut him off before he could. “Yes, you can leave your bass and amp here, it’s not like I’ll use that area anyhow.”

“See? I told you he can read minds,” Tommy whisper-yelled in Nikki’s ear as he dragged him out.

*

Crazy.

That’s the only word that could describe the previous few days. Hell, Vince just took a ride in the back of Tommy’s van from Covina to Los motherf.ucking Angeles. Nothing but the cash he had from the gig plus his job, his driver’s license, and the clothes he was wearing. He’d managed to get his own apartment the first day – yeah, it was a cardboard box, but it was his – plus clothes he actually wanted, in addition to a job that wasn’t awful.

Maybe good things could just happen. They just took their own sweet time to happen when it came to Vince. Either way, all of this, he felt, was long overdue. Hell, he’d had to run away when he was 16 because he just felt so trapped. He wasn’t even entirely sure why at the time. Coupled with the absolute hell that ensued when he opened up about how he felt – suffice to say his experiences were far from positive. Tommy had been the only one who still treated him the way people are supposed to treat other, you know, people. It had taken its toll on him. He lifted his shirt slightly, biting back tears as he ran his fingers along the mark on the side of his stomach. Were it not for Tommy, his so-called friends –

No. He wouldn’t think about that right now. He hurriedly rolled down his shirt again. Out of sight, out of mind. Right now, he’d better just focus. There was so much that could go wrong, at any second – the bathroom had a giant mirror in it. That was probably the last thing he needed. He’d be showering. He bit his lip, somehow picking up the steel-legged stool that came with the place. He carried it in his hands, kicking open the bathroom door and ramming it right into the mirror.

Luck is bullcrap. I haven’t broken any mirrors, and we've all seen what happened. Suck my dick, serendipity!

He smiled to himself as he thought that. He repeated it in his head, feeling a slight rush of joy each time, before mumbling it out loud.

“Suck my dick. Suck my dick.”

He thought back to the party.

‘You’ve got balls,’ Nikki had said – despite being a complete stranger.

He smiled, smashing the stool’s legs against the mirror one last time, putting it aside and staring at the mess of glass on the bathroom floor, feeling strangely comfortable for someone who was barefoot and surrounded by shattered glass. He smiled one last time, picking up a few of the pamphlets the store had given him, sweeping up the shards of glass from his bathroom floor.

He dragged himself out of the bathroom – the catharsis that came with shattering the mirror soon fading. Too soon. Not that it mattered – he’d done it, hadn’t he? He had, albeit temporarily, prevented himself from… Feeling that way. That was the important part.

He smiled as he lay on the thin mattress, staring up at the ceiling and holding his license in his hands, a finger covering part of it for obvious reasons. He stared at it – just the part he deemed most important.

FN: Vincent
LN: Neil.

Chapter Text

Vince made a face.

Whoever wired this up was high on the job, He thought, following one of the wires with his eyes to hopefully spot  the loose connection. Scratch that, they definitely were. Or they were just stupid, which is worse.

He was glad at the same time, however - because that meant he could charge more for this. He deserved it - fixing the wiring so far in this house whose initial electrician was most definitely either a monkey or a moron had already cost him whatever sanity he had left. He bit his lip, trying to keep his hand steady as he soldered the wire back in the right place, before crossing his fingers and hoping the microwave finally worked again.

If this doesn't work I'm going to get stabby, he mumbled, removing his hand and turning on the power again.

He let out a sigh of relief  - after not one but three hours of painstakingly finding every mistake in the wiring, Vince was finally done. He wiped away some sweat from his forehead, smiling at the fact that he got this batshit wiring to work (seriously - NONE of the wires were soldered in place, just jammed there. No wonder the adapter didn't work. And don't even get him started on the other appliances in the kitchen. Just the thought was enough to make him cringe.) He smiled, getting up and turning around to tell the lad who'd hired him that he was finally done.

She just scoffed. "Took you long enough."

Vince held back every urge he had to roll his eyes. "None of the plugs had properly fixed wires, and whoever set up the AC adapter was on crack."

"Fine. Payment in cash?"

He nodded as she started pulling out the money, tipping him an extra 10.

"That's for being the first electrician who didn't put his ass crack on display for the entire family to see while working."

Vince laughed, "Thank you," He said, taking the money and leaving. He ran his fingers through his hair, inhaling deeply as he started walking back home. He was thankful it wasn't too hot - he didn't want to spend the cash he'd just earned on a bus ride just because it was too hot to walk. He smiled to himself as the wind blew, his light hair slightly flying in the breeze.

After about half an hour of walking, he finally reached the building, stepping inside and heading to his apartment. He fiddled with his keys, shoving one in the lock and feeling the lock click as he swung the door open.

Vince walked in, still lost in his own world as he heard someone call out his name.

"Nikki? Oh, uh - Tommy's not here, he's-"

"Got an extra shift at the coffee place, I know," Nikki said.

"Oh, okay."

"Here," Nikki got up off the floor, holding out a few papers in Vince's direction.

"What's this?"

"Lyrics."

"Huh?"

"For our band."

"Oh - Thanks, Nikki," He said, looking over it. 

Plug me in, I'm alive tonight,
Out on the streets again.
Turn me on, I'm hard to stop,
Something you'll never forget.
Take my fist,
Break down walls,
I'm on top tonight.

"Your lyrics?" 

Nikki nodded.

"They - They're good," Vince muttered, taking a pillow from the bed and sitting on the floor near Nikki. "We should use there. I'll figure out how to sing it, thanks, man."

"Yeah, you're a good singer, man. I  mean, I'm assuming you want to be in mine and Tommy's band."

Vince beamed. "F.uck yeah, I want to be in your band! Man, that's amazing - I thought you and Tommy had some huge-ass plan about the whole thing. Thanks, Nikki," He said, steppig closer to Nikki to hug him, before remembering the things Tommy told him and instead playing it off as a high-five. 

"Okay, then. Tommy wanted to rehearse after he got back - give it maybe an hour first, there's something I want to talk to Tommy about before."

The last part felt like a thorn on a rose for Vince - he was still option B, after Tommy. There was a voice in his head telling him he should just be glad he was even an option, and he was happy about it. But it still made him feel like shit - Nikki and Tommy were close. He knew that. Hell, absolute strangers could figure that out. Even the owner of the liquor store they usually stole from was able to figure that out. That didn't mean that it didn't hurt, though. Vince was used to it - even before... The Incident, he wasn't anyone's first choice. Third? Sure. But never first.

He still nodded at Nikki - he was going to sing for the band the two of them were forming. That had to mean something, at the very fucking least, didn't it? “Yeah, man, I get that. Sure Whenever.”

…Yeah, if there was one thing Vince was bad at, it was downplaying how he felt.

Lucky for him, Nikki was one dense bastard who just left the pages with Vince and went back to his own apartment.

*

"Have a nice day!" Tommy said, smiling as his customers went away. He huffed. So far, only five people said it back, and mostly, they were awkward. He turned around - it was one of those mid-afternoon lulls for the coffee shop right now, and he sat down behind the counter. He was bored - there was nothing to do at all! His eyes roamed the shop, falling on a newspaper's classified section someone had left behind.

Oh, screw it, he was so desperate for entertainment, he may as well just read that. Not like anyone would miss it, it was the classifieds. Nobody reads that. Well, other than him. But like he said, he was bored!

He picked it up, opening it to a random page as a slip of paper fell out. Curious, he bent down to pick it up.

Loud, aggressive, rude guitarist seeks band.

There was a phone number scrawled on the bottom of the page, and he read it out loud to himself before grinning and folding up the paper and putting it in his pocket. Nikki's going to be thrilled, He thought, smiling to himself as he started the espresso machine again, humming under his breath as he drummed a beat on the counter.

He poured himself a glass of water, smiling at the thought of Nikki's reaction to the ad. He loved it when Nikki was happy - of course, he loved it when anyone was happy, but when it was Nikki, it just felt better than when it was anyone else was happy. Maybe it was because he was crushing on Nikki, or the fact that Nikki was rarely happy, or some combination of both. It wasn’t relevant; the point was that he loved when Nikki was happy.

He already knew how the conversation would go – he’d head home, and show Nikki the ad. Nikki would be all “What’s this?” and Tommy would tell him all about the guy he saw leave the ad there, and they’d talk about it for a while after which Tommy would feel prompted to give Nikki a hug. Maybe, just maybe, Nikki would hug back instantly. Or even better, he would melt into the hug and close his eyes, feeling comfortable in Tommy’s arms. Just the thought was enough to make Tommy smile, only snapping back to reality when the alarm rang, signalling the end of his shift.

He grinned, hanging up his apron and heading back to his place.

*

Nikki was waiting alone – he’d gotten a glass of water for himself but couldn’t bring himself to look at it, much less drink it without feeling sick to his stomach. He had to tell Tommy. There’s no way this whole… band arrangement would work without Tommy knowing. He bit his lip, looking down at his lap as he waited for Tommy to get back. There was no going back from this now that Vince had the lyrics. He wanted to tell him anyway - now he just had a deadline. It made sense when he first thought of it but now...

Nikki was scared.

Chapter Text

There were a lot of things Tommy expected Nikki to say when he got back after the double shift. "How do you do a double shift of pretending to like people without going crazy?" or "Want some of the Jack I stole before we go to Vince's place?" or "Fuck yeah, you're here, man."

"Tommy, I need to talk to you about something, and it can't wait till after practice," was not one of them. It was, however, what Nikki said. Tommy bit his lip, already starting to feel some of the discomfort he always felt when Honey said she needed to talk. Nothing good ever came of it, all conversations like that ever did was make Tommy feel guilty  about something he thought was harmless. Talking too much, laughing too loud, calling his parents too often on the phone whose bill she paid (seriously?! He called for five minutes a day - she called her coworkers for twice as long)... The list went on and on, and every time that did happen, Tommy felt like crap for days afterward. Off course, he didn't show it - smile, make others happy, and absorb that was basically his life's motto. He bit his lip. This wasn't Honey - it was Nikki. He was different from her in every possible way... He let himself hope that this wasn't what Nikki was going to say.

He just grinned, not wanting to worry Nikki. "'Skoin' on dude?" He said, smiling and sitting next to Nikki.

Nikki was shaking, rolling up his sleeves as he struggled to form a sentence. Tommy frowned, moving closer to Nikki and wrapping one arm around him. "It's okay, Sixx, I've got you," He said softly, almost instantly feeling happier when Nikki relaxed against him. "Whatever it is, I promise I won't tell anyone, okay? I promise, Nikki."

Nikki bit his lip, looking away from Tommy. "I-It's about the lyrics. The uh- reason I got mad that you saw them."

"What happened?"

Nikki looked at Tommy, peeling the skin off his lip with his teeth slightly. "It's also about that scar you looked at on my arm."

Tw for past abuse, repeated abandonment, knife violence and death - summarized at the end (in italics)

Nikki bit his lip. "My dad left when I was two - I don't remember shit about him, but apparently my mom and him had some long romance. I don't believe that, way she acts I find it hard to believe she can love anyone," He gave a dry laugh. "My aunt said she didn't spend any time with me when I was born, only doing the essential shit for the first month and... I don't even know what the rest of the time. When I was six, she ran away with some trucker guy, called my grandparents to pick me up, and locked me outside the house till they came," His breathing was becoming more and more erratic. Tommy felt himself start to cry as Nikki said that, doing his best to hold back his tears and just holding Nikki close to himself. "Till I was seven, I lived with them. I loved living there, I felt wanted. Important. B-but-" 

He let out a sob, clutching onto Tommy's arm. "There was a fire that year. Both of them died, Nona and her husband Tom. I was sent back to Deana - my mom - after that. Things got bad - she was using, and she had a revolving door of dickheads she'd date - they'd beat the crap out of me for no reason at all. They liked it, I think, having a weak little boy scared shitless of them, hiding when he saw them, and whimpering when they pulled him out from wherever he was... A few days, I'd not be able to leave my room because I got shit scared of seeing them. Deana changed too, for the worse. She'd started backing them up. It was gradual, but you'd have to be blind not to see it." He took a deep breath. "There were times where her boyfriends would just push me down the stairs, or hit me with a booze bottle or something, and she'd just turn a blind eye, or worse, just watch."

He whimpered at the memories as they came flooding back, swallowing the bile that rose in his throat as he made an attempt to keep talking, but instead choking up. "I didn't trust anyone - I couldn't trust anyone. Not anymore, with everything Deana had done. My own mum, who was supposed to be someone I trusted  - I saw how people talked about theirs, and I just felt so, so alone in this, like I couldn't tell anyone - each time I tried, they said the same shit. She's your mother, she loves you. You should love her too."

He curled up against Tommy. "I started hanging around with a bunch of kids who lived in a juvenile home. They got me, they didn't shut me down. I started doing every drug on the face of the planet - so many of them were dealers. It was bad - but feeling alone was worse. At least this way, I had some sort of safety net. Deana was just getting worse and worse. I just couldn't take it anymore."

"Eventually, when I was 15, I stole a knife. cut my arm, right here, blamed her boyfriend when CPS were called, and made a break for it that night with cash I stole from him. I didn't care - why should I? I put on the mask of always being angry, or always being ready to fight. It made everything easier in  its own fucked up way. I ran away from Seattle and moved to LA. Lived on the street for a while, till I saved enough to get a place to stay - this one. Music was the only thing in the whole motherfucking world I liked. I stole the stuff I needed - only from large stores or chains, but only when I had to. Once I had enough money, I bought a bass, and searched for a band.

"One day when I was eighteen, something hit me - I don't know what. I searched and searched for my dad's phone number, and called him. His name was Franklin Ferrana, I was Frank Ferrana jr. He said I was a worthless shit, and cut the call, before I had the chance to say anything other than my name," Nikki bit his lip. "Frankie died the other night. The next day, I burned my driver's license, and changed my name to Nikki Sixx."

\\

Nikki's mom left him with his grandparents when he was six, but there was an accident so he had to move back to live with her. Deana's boyfriends were abusive to Nikki, so he cut his arm to frame one of them and ran away at age 15, lived on the streets of LA till he got the money to get this apartment. He changed his name from Frank to Nikki after a phone call with his father.

Tommy just held onto Nikki as the older one shook, burying his face in Tommy's arm. "It's why I freaked out when you read those lyrics, Tommy. I mean, It's glaringly obvious when you know the story and see any of those lines..." Nikki mumbled against Tommy's arm. "I gave Vince one of the light ones I wrote last week. Well, it seems light, I made sure of that..." He trailed off again, as Tommy just held him close to himself, almost protectively. Nikki let a few of his stray tears fall onto Tommy's arm, not having the energy to remove his head. It's almost funny, he thought, how it started with him taking care of Tommy. Not that it mattered; Tommy was the one he trusted most in the world anyhow. He squeezed his eyes shut for a second, trying to figure out how to ask Tommy to let go of him. It would have been easy if Nikki wanted him to, but that was the problem - after nearly his entire life on his own, this feeling was almost addictive for him. He turned around slightly, wrapping his arms around him and resting his chin on Tommy's shoulder.

He felt him take a deep breath in. "Nikki?"

"Yeah?"

"I'm proud of you - saying this isn't easy for anyone."

Nikki couldn't fight off the smile that appeared on his face, or the tears that welled up in his eyes, just hugging Tommy back as tightly as he could.

"I trust you, Tommy. I don't know how it happened this fast, but I do, and... Thank you for staying."

Tommy held him tightly, slowly stroking his messy hair as Nikki held onto him. He bit his lip, placing the ghost of a kiss on Nikki's shoulder, holding the older man tightly in his arms as he did that. "I'm always going to stay, man. I care about you."

To anybody else, this would warrant perhaps a smile and an 'I care about you too'. For Nikki, it was the cue to let out a sob he'd been holding back for years; it was the cue to hold onto Tommy Lee with everything he had. "I care about you, too," He said, hiding his face when he felt the slight, almost unnoticeable kiss.

"Whatever happens, I've got your back, okay Nikki?"

Nikki just nodded. His voice trembled. "I've got yours, too, Tommy."

Chapter Text

Of course Tommy and Nikki wouldn't show up.

Why did he expect anything different? He should have gotten used to this by now. Why did he think this time things would be different? Because it was Tommy Lee? Sure, Vince. Sure. There's always a pattern to this shit, he should have known. Vince let out a sigh. That's why he's naive. He lets himself hope too damn much, and it always gets the better of him. He glared at the stack of papers Nikki had left - he was a good song writer, no doubt about that. He was just a fucking prick too. Which, of course, Vince should have assumed when he first met Nikki.

He groaned. How did everyone else have someone to hang around with? How was everybody else someone's favourite person to be around? Hell, there was no way Vince could see himself being that for anyone anymore.

Anymore.

There was a time when he was the best friend, the perfect kid, the favourite. And that came crashing down almost as quickly as he started liking it.

Vince let out a groan - each time he started thinking about that, he couldn't stop. He always ended up a mess, lying on the floor and more often than not, trembling. He dug his fingers into the flesh on his arm - physical pain to cancel the emotional - and sighed, trying in vain to get his mind to stop racing.

*

Everything went fine till he was in middle school. Of course he'd always felt a little different, but he never really registered what it was that made him feel that way. At all. He had the perfect life - good grades, parents that loved him, money wasn't a problem, and he was even on the volleyball team at school.

He always felt like there was something wrong with his body, though - he could never quite place his finger on it when he was younger. All he knew is he wanted to be Ric Flair one day - man, he loved Ric Flair. When he told his parents, they thought it was the eleven-year-old's equivalent of a crush, but Vince knew it was something else entirely. He didn't want Ric, he wanted to be Ric. Not a wrestler, no, but there was something else about him that Vince wanted. His bravado? No, he had plenty of that already. His fan following? Not especially, though he wouldn't mind that.

But you're not a boy, silly, everyone said. Nothing pissed off Vince any more than that one sentence - nothing shortened his already short temper more than those six words. He didn't know what it was, really, just that he never felt like a girl. It wasn't who he was, not in the slightest. It wasn't just that masculinity came with freedom while femininity came with constraint - it was something else, too.

Then, in the last year of middle school, he came across the word. Transgendered. It was a simple word, he thought, that somehow summarized everything he felt. It was as if a weight had been lifted off his shoulders. He felt almost free after finding the term. It was odd, he thought, how something that simple could cause a change that big.

Of course, he didn't tell anyone - they could never know.

High school came with huge changes for him - he was lucky enough to not be very... curvy. With his hair back, he passed as the average surfer. The first day, he mustered up all his courage to correct the teacher when she called him Vinnie - blaming it on poor handwriting on the receptionist's part - and semi-officially changing his name to Vince on the attendance register. It almost felt cathartic for him.

Given his luck, however, he should have known that was nothing but a calm before a storm. He should have known it would all come crashing down for him. Being called Vince in high school? Please. That lasted a mere five weeks.

Parent's evening.

He'd not even considered that before - his parents were furious. Their daughter? Changing her name? And being called him on a regular basis?

Everything came crashing down. That evening was a blur for him - he recalled crying, screaming, and being locked in his room for hours on end while his parents discussed what they should do about the situation. Only other person he'd told was an ex-boyfriend of his - Tommy Lee. They'd split amicably - neither was interested in the other. Vince's hand shook as he dialed Tommy's house; asking if he could crash in the van.

Vince couldn't take the constant name-calling in school, or the humiliation he faced every day. Everyone had a limit - and the start of the second year of high school, Vince had reached his.

He dropped out.

Ran away, letting Tommy know he was fine.

Joined a band.

Two years later, he came back to Covina with a changed last name, a hair dye, and no relationship with anyone there.

He was the chick magnet, not the chick. He was the guy who hit on girls at parties. And he loved it.

He assumed he was supposed to be grateful he got into a fight with the band he was in before they had a chance to find out he was transgendered. Then again, it's hard to be grateful for a band with having regular gigs (in a quiet town, too!) that pay for your semi-decent place being taken away, for a shitty studio apartment in LA and a band that doesn't even rehearse.

Not to mention the one person who wholeheartedly accepted you spending every waking moment with his roommate, giving you, if you're lucky, an afterthought.

*

Nikki's eyes were still glassy, but he'd relaxed into Tommy's arms and gotten his breathing under control. He was staring at the ceiling, lying on Tommy's chest with Tommy slowly stroking his messy hair. 

"Thank you," he mumbled, rubbing his face against Tommy's arm. "Tommy, I-"

Tommy just held him tightly, wiping away a few of Nikki's stray tears and rubbing small circles into his arm. He smiled, watching Tommy's long fingers move over his arm.

"Want to hear some good news, Nikki?" Tommy said, feeling Nikki trying to start a conversation.

Nikki looked at him gratefully. "Yeah, Tommy. What is it?"

He grinned. "I got a guitarist's number today. I think we can start that band we wanted to already."

Nothing could have prepared Tommy for what Nikki did next. Nothing surprised him more, either. Tommy always thought of himself as the physically affectionate one.

Nikki lifted Tommy's hand, kissing the back of it.

"That- That's amazing, Tommy,' he said, squeezing it gently.

He just smiled back, hugging Nikki tightly as he squeezed his hand, too.

Chapter Text

Nikki showed up first.

Then Tommy.

Vince looked at them, not wanting to bring up the previous night.

"So we called a guitarist," Tommy began, "He called us piece of crap motherfuckers and said he's coming to audition!"

Vince looked at the two of them.

"You are piece of shit motherfuckers! What the hell, Tommy! We haven't even had a proper rehearsal - " He cut himself off, feeling his voice get higher-pitched, squirming a bit. Fuck, he couldn't have one day without that lovely little reminder?

Nikki felt Tommy tense up - he glared at Vince. Tommy hated yelling, directed at him especially. If he ever found Honey, all hell would break loose...

Stepping forward, he glared at Vince. "Shut it. Not like you've got a fucking impossible job, Vince, you've got to learn a song and sing it. Cover band singer like you should find that a piece of cake."

"Oh yeah?" Vince scoffed, glaring more at Nikki. He knew for a fact Nikki would not take him seriously if he told him what was really on his mind - what was really bothering him. "We were supposed to rehearse yesterday, Nikki. If you and your little whore Tommy actually bothered to turn up instead of mumbling sweet nothings to each other all night we wouldn't be in this position!"

Next thing he knew, he'd been tackled to the ground, Nikki's hands wrapping themselves around his throat. He growled, bringing up his leg to kick Nikki in the gut. Everything was a blur - he felt someone try to pull him off, just turning and slapping them as hard as he could across the face. "Back off, bitch," He growled, getting up and giving Nikki one last punch in the gut, stepping back as the raven-haired bassist doubled over, clutching his stomach.

"Don't test me, it's always a conscious decision to hold back."

He was glaring at both of them fists still shaking and ready to attack as he felt the rush of pure rage fade. He squeezed his eyes shut, panting and breathless.

A twinge of guilt washed over him when he finally opened his eyes and looked around - Nikki was doubled up on the floor, Tommy had a handprint on his face. He barely felt anything.

"Shit..." He was shaking - before he knew it he'd gotten up and sped out of his apartment, slamming the door shut and sprinting to the roof.

*

Nikki winced - he crawled back up to his feet, largely ignoring Vince and stumbling over to Tommy. He was in a heap on the floor - frozen and in shock, clutching his cheek, eyes fixed on one point on the wall.

"Tom..."

He flinched away from Nikki, still shocked.

"Lee, please just look at me?"

Tommy murmured something under his breath.

"Can you repeat that?"

"How... How long till it's me you attack, Sixx?"

A million things flooded Nikki's mind - none of them seemed good enough to say while Tommy was in this state. "I'd never hurt you?" How pathetic was that - Honey probably said it to him when she lost her temper during their early days. Nikki knew how it sounded - like a last ditch attempt to keep someone with you.

"I-" He cut himself off, reaching over to stroke Tommy's cheek softly. "I never want you to get hurt, Lee..."

Tears streamed down Tommy's face - every trace of his usual easygoing nature gone. He didn't look at Nikki, just down at the floor, and grabbed his hand, holding it against his face. Nikki heard something that sounded like a cross between a whimper and a whine, feeling the exasperation he normally felt till he realized it came from his drummer - his best friend in the world. He looked at him, slowly stroking his cheek and holding his head close to himself. "I - I was just trying to get Vince to stop saying horrible shit about you like that, I hate it when anyone insults you..."

Before he knew it, Tommy had flung his arms around his waist, hiding his face in Nikki's shoulder. "You promise you'll never turn around and take it out on me like she did..."

Nikki barely caught the words - Tommy's voice was ever so slightly above a whisper. He didn't want to lie - he knew how volatile he could be. But wasn't every single time he got into a fight to protect someone he cared about, ever since he met Tommy? Wasn't it always to make sure Tommy was safe, that Tommy's friend got to LA okay?

Before he could give it another second of thought, he heard the words tumble out of his mouth. "I promise, Tommy. I'll never, ever take my anger out on you - you're too important for that."

Tommy threw both arms around Nikki, almost desperately. He let his sobs escape his mouth, not caring who heard them at all All he cared about right now was Nikki - being with Nikki, staying with Nikki, and not changing a thing about Nikki. He was attached - there were no two ways about it. If anyone else were here, they'd probably laugh, he hadn't known him a month. 

Not that he ever cared if they did - when nobody takes you seriously, you learn early on to stop taking them seriously, too. He hummed a bit - though it came out more like a groan - when Nikki tangled his fingers in his hair, running them through it. He sighed softly - strange as it was, he trusted Nikki, too. More than he trusted anyone else.

Almost the way he instantly trusted Honey.

*

Vince lit a cigarette, wincing as he touched his face and staring at the street below, just looking at the passing cars. It was somewhat of a hobby of his - he wanted to see every single license plate, and see if he could spot a 1921 Alaska plate. It was rare, that much he knew - so rare, in fact, he was sure he'd never see one. Still, searching kept his mind occupied. It also kept him away from tendencies most would simply describe as self-destructive.

He saw a black car pull up in front of the building, and a dark-haired man pull out an amplifier.

Shit, the guitarist...

He had to go back down now - back to Tommy and Nikki,joined at the hip. He wouldn't be surprised if they'd demonized him, too. Or if Tommy got so pissed that he told Nikki about 'The Situation'.

Throwing his head back, he let the warm sun rays fall on his face as he blew out smoke, watching it float away into the air for one last second before throwing down his cigarette and stomping it out. He sighed; he had had approximately a minute and a half to himself.

The only thing that brought him comfort? Maybe Nikki would keep his mouth shut and perhaps actually rehearse at the set rehearsal time for once.

He fixed his acid-washed jeans before opening the door to the roof and walking back down.

Chapter Text

Tommy sat on his stool, running his fingers over the diaphragm  of his drums, closing his eyes and listening to the guitarist play. 

This guy is awesome.

He'd gotten his own stack of Marshalls, his own cables and glared at Tommy when he'd offered to help him carry the amps up the narrow staircase to Vince's apartment. 

Granted, that was hardly... Sweet, especially after what just happened, but in the end, it was a distraction.

Exactly what he needed at that moment.

It felt almost stupid - staying here, acting as if everything was fine when seconds ago the singer and bassist were at each other's throats. Tommy appreciated his roommate's protective streak, he really did. Hell, most of the time it made him feel better. After seeing it as something other than theoretical, however...

He didn't know what to feel.

It was scary, almost, how easily Nikki flipped from being excited about them finding a guitarist to practically beating the shit out of Vince. Not that Vince was innocent in this either.

He just had to be drawn to the most volatile people, didn't he? maybe he should have listened to his parents and become an accountant or some shit. Accountants don't beat up the people they live and work with... And (probably) don't call each other whores...

He clutched onto his sticks and shook his head. Not the time, he thought, twirling them between his fingers and looking at the guitarist's slender fingers moving with surprising speed and accuracy over the fretboard. He forced a smile.

It was something he never thought he'd have to do again. Put on a mask, act happy... This was the first time he'd had to do that since he left Honey. He couldn't let it slip, he didn't want to make Nikki feel worse. Not after he saw what happened when Nikki did. 

He looked at the ad - he still had it in his jeans pocket. 

Mick Mars.

That was a cool fuckin' name. 

A drop of genuine happiness found its way into his smile, the shred Mick was playing seeming to cheer him up marginally.

*

He was a fucking moron.

Nikki slapped himself mentally - that was an idiotic thing to do. Especially after Tommy had finally started trusting him, and he'd started too trust Tommy. Of course, he knew he would never, ever want to hurt him. But life's a bitch, isn't it? It's not like he ever wantted to hurt anyone he ended up hurting. 

The music stopped abruptly, and Nikki's head snapped up.

"Listen, you three. I'm fucking old - I don't have time to put up with your crap if you're going to sit there silently and stare at the floor. Are you willing to go the distance? If not, I've got better things to do. I'm giving you fifteen minutes to resolve whatever temper tantrum you've got going on, and if it's not done by then, find a different loser to play guitar for you."

Before any of them had a chance to respond, the Mars guy kept his guitar down and walked out. Nikki instinctively glanced at Tommy - hoping to see something in the drummer's eyes. He was smiling, yes, but Nikki noticed pain in his expression despite it.

"Tommy-"

"I'm fine. It's all okay remember? It's fine."

A sigh came from the corner - Vince was holding a bag of peas to his nose. "No, the fuck it isn't. Nikki, we had a deal and you fucking broke it. I don't have to deal with your bullshit, I'm willing to bet I can just leave here and find another band in twenty minutes flat. Give me one good reason to stay."

Nikki's eyes were downcast. "I can't..." He said softly, before inhaling deeply. his dream was falling apart before it even took off. He sighed. However stupid it sounded, he had to say it. "Only reason you shouldn't is because I want you in my band. Despite what happened, I want to be around you."

He heard Vince inhale sharply, before throwing the bag of peas. "It happens again and I'm gone."

Tommy got up. "I'm getting Mick back, if we're done."

"Tommy, wait."

Tommy's head snapped around, "What is it, Nikki? Something wrong?"

Nikki got up and grabbed his arm, "Tommy, I need to talk to you..." He said softly, starting to loosen the grip. "I swear, it's nothing bad. I promise."

All he got in response was a sigh and a nod, before Tommy followed him away from the main room.

He drew in a shaky breath. "Tommy, I'm not the type who usually apologizes. No, don't say anything yet, please let me talk?" He pressed his finger against Tommy's lips. "I'm sorry I hit you. I don't care whether it was intentional or not. I hurt you, and that's not okay. I'm the reason you got hurt. I can justify myself a million different ways - I got overprotective, I meant to hit Vince not you, or that I just wanted to get you out of the way so you wouldn't get hurt when Vince and I fought it out. None of that excuses it. I hurt you, and you didn't deserve that in the slightest. You're the sweetest, happiest person I've met despite everything that's happened to you and I never meant to hurt you. You get me in a way nobody else ever did, and... I'm sorry. I promise, that for you I'll stop fighting as much as I do. In the shirt time I've known you, you've become the most important person in the world to me." He paused for a second. "Now, I don't want you to say anything about this just yet - I want you to think it over, okay? I don't want you to stay if you don't feel safe here. No matter what happens, I want you to know that I'll always care about you, okay? You don't deserve to be hurt in any way, shape or form. I'm sorry, Tommy..."

Tommy looked at him and nodded slowly, "I'll think it over, like you asked, Nikki..."

Nikki's heart clenched, but he nodded.

*

Truthfully, Tommy was far from fine. But at times like this, there was one thing he knew how to do - make everyone else happy and maybe absorb some of that for himself. He got up and went out the door.

"It's all fine now, Mick."

"Don't waste my time. I'm not joining if there are going to be too many fights - if you're serious, I'm coming," came the guitarist's voice, the puff of smoke emerging from his mouth easily visible in the sunlight.

"I'm serious. Band's all good." Tommy had his best happy face on.

Mick let out a small smile, "Good. You've got talent  - don't squander it fighting. There's no bigger waste, nothing that ends careers more than that."

The words struck some sort of chord with him, and his mask fell away. "There isn't..." 

Tommy froze again. "I need to talk to Nikki.. I promise, though, Mick. Band's completely good, dude."

Chapter Text

Mick held back a groan as he re-entered the room. Nikki and Vince were sitting in silence - granted, it was a step up from before, but it didn't exactly make him hopeful for the band's future. Especially considering they were all too damn young to understand the gravity of the situation. Yes, he'd picked up on how close Nikki was to Tommy, how alienated Vince felt even with them, and their passion, but none of that was enough. Nikki's inner child was violent, Tommy's wide-eyed and energetic and Vince's an outcast. In the end, he realized, all three of them were ruled by  their inner child.

"I thought about it. And I want in - if you three will put in the time and effort, I'll do the same. No more fucking band politics, got it?" He said, looking at each one of them in turn. As expected, Tommy chipped in with an enthusiastic nod first, Nikki took a long drink of Jack and looked at Tommy before nodding, and Vince sighed and muttered something along the lines of 'Fuck these assholes but fine'.

Looking back, he probably should have mentioned something.

"And whatever stupid rockstar shenanigans you do, don't expect me to be on board. My back kills me enough already, and I've got a boyfriend to get home to."

Vince's head snapped up.

"Before any of you say something stupid, let me just say that you will not find a better guitarist than me anywhere on this strip. So sure, if you want to let that get in the way, go ahead."

Vince looked him in the eye. "That's not what I was going to say," He said, seeing Nikki basically unfazed by Mick's words. "I - uh - I've got something to say too."

*

And just like that, three sets of eyes were on him. Tommy looked encouraging, Nikki looked mildly irritated that he wasn't the one talking and Mick looked... Well, nobody could really tell what Mick was thinking. About anything.

Now or never, right? And it looked like 'never' wasn't really an option, considering he lived next door to tweedle dumb and tweedle dumber, for whom "Motherfucker give me some goddamn privacy" wasn't a demand so much as a suggestion.

"There's only one way to put this," He said, suddenly feeling the rush of confidence he'd felt a mere two seconds back fade away. His voice was stuck inside his throat, and he couldn't breathe. 

"I'm trans."

No response from the moody, raven haired members. Not really a surprise, he'd had to explain it a million times before people got it before. Tommy gave him a small smile, a welcome change from the confused expression on Nikki and Mick's faces.

"Basically, my body doesn't reflect who I am properly. No, it's not a case of 'I should  be fuckin' ripped but I'm not' - it's a real thing. I'm a guy, but I was born in the body of a girl. I never connected with this body, and I'm never going to. It feels like it's alien to me, and hold back your negative comments if you know that's good for you," He winced slightly at the anger that left his mouth, before forcing himself to calm down once again. He breathed in shakily. "It's not who I am. It's why I always wear a slightly baggy shirt. While that does cover up... The You Know Whats, I still feel sick whenever I feel it on myself. Before you ask, yes, I have found a way to stop the time, birth control pills work great for that. For the last month or two, at least. And fine, if I'm out of your precious band, so be it, I don't need you anyhow, I can find another in seconds."

Nikki was the first one to speak up, much to Vince's surprise. "As much friction as there's been, I'm not kicking you out of the band," He said, shocked by Vince's confession. Mick just nodded in agreement, face still blank but Vince could have sworn he saw a hint of encouragement on it.

Before Vince could react Tommy had pulled him into a bone-crushing hug. "I'm so proud of you, V," He said in his ear as the singer awkwardly hugged back.

"Need my lungs, Tommy, can't sing without them."

Vince let out a laugh, relieved more than anything else. As much bravado as he had, he was near-certain that he couldn't find another band as easily as he'd said he could. 

Nikki looked at Mick, "What's your boyfriend's name?"

"What's it to you?"

Tommy laughed, "You sound like my gran. Speaking of, how old are you, Mick?"

"Fuck you, you fucking teenager."

A grin broke out on the drummer's face, before he got up and smacked Nikki on the shoulder. Mick didn't have to pay attention to hear the words "This dude is legit," Tossed around.

He smirked, tuning his guitar up again and glancing over at the singer, before putting it down.

*

Mick took a long drag of the cigarette he held between his lips, seeing the tension radiate slowly off Vince's shoulders. He reached into his pockets, snarling when he felt the bottle of painkillers was nearly empty. Brilliant, as if he wasn't broke enough as it was.

"Back later, I saw a payphone here..."

He needed John. Without him, Mick would go fucking mad...

Feeling around in his pockets  for a coin, he smiled when he felt it. He had a minute on his hands - he'd better make the right use of it. He sighed, stepping out of the apartment and walking fast as he could to the payphone, inserting the coin.

...36...24...36...

The dial tone rang, as he clutched the phone desperately, the cold plastic so different from the warmth of John Corabi's hands, that Mick craved so desperately right then.

"Hello, John Corabi," Said the voice that felt rich as molasses to Mick - smooth, yet still deep.

"Babe..."

"Mick! Hey, what's going on? I know you've only got a minute..."

"Do we have any extra cash? I'm out of meds... Again..."

Mick could almost hear the sigh in John's voice. "I thought you stopped using booze to down them, how are you out already?"

"AS is fucking killing me, Corabi," he hissed, "I can't go too long without the meds, you know that."

Another sigh.

"I'll see if I can get the pharmacy to give it to us cheap, I know one of the stockboys..."

The minute was over, and the line went dead.

Mick hated everything about that. John shouldn't be forced to work a shitty part time job at a packaging factory to pay for Mick's pills, especially not while Mick went on wild goose chase after wild goose chase trying to find a band that likely wouldn't make it...

"Shit." His hand was cramping up - his knuckles were white already. He loosened the near deathgrip he had on the phone, before hanging it up again. Letting out a slight groan, he turned around and walked back to the apartment building. He was in the band now, no turning back.

Chapter Text

Nikki had his notes all over the floor. He stared at his ideas intently; he had a band, they needed a name. He and Tommy were messing around earlier - the name 'Sixx-crotum', 'Four Skins', and 'Condom-nation' (Tommy swore that was a play on condemnation; Nikki didn't see it. Either way, it hardly fit the band) decorated the pages of his notebook, among other song ideas. He sighed, letting the drummer lean into him before wrapping one arm around him.

He felt Tommy bury his face in his arm, relaxing into him and he smiled. It was an unprompted smile - a pure one, the type he only ever did around Tommy. He didn't understand it - as much as he despised the weight of what he felt for him, being around him always filled Nikki with a sense of security that was completely foreign to him, like he was wrapped in the safety and care he craved his entire life.

Looking around the room, he took a second to breathe before moving towards Tommy, letting his mind wander from the constant staring at his ideas. Vince was in an ill-fitting tank top, sitting by a window and going over the lyrics, unmistakable focus in his eyes. He felt a sudden rush - this was his dream. And it was happening, at last. He had a band, they had talent and he was on his way to the top. It was surreal.

"You okay, man?"

"Oh, yeah, just... it's strange, is all. I've got a fucking band..."

Tommy laughed a bit, sitting up fully but still holding onto Nikki's arm. "It is, right? One day it's going to be us headlining a tour around the world - you, me, Vince and Mick, thousands of fans chanting the band's name..."

Try as he might, Nikki couldn't fight back a laugh as he rested his head on his shoulder. "You're right, Tom," He said, "It's going to be us there, one day, changing lives with music. We just need a name..."

*

Fuck it, Mick thought, feeling around in his pocket for any spare change. This was going to go towards rent - but his back was killing him. He dragged himself to a pharmacy, pulling out his copy of the prescription.

"Two bottles of this," He said, handing the papers and the cash, leaning against the counter, wincing. His whole body was on fire. It felt like he was cracking into pieces as he stood there, desperate for the medication. He knew it was doing more harm than good - but as long as it stopped the pain, what did he care?

Grabbing the pill bottles, he dry-swallowed a tablet, remaining at the confuter till he felt it finally kick in. He shoved it into his jacket before turning around, wincing to himself as he went back to the apartment.

John didn't have to know.

*

"Did you get any decent names yet?" Mick asked, coming back inside. The pain in his back had faded to a dull throb; it was still there, it just wasn't as... Crippling as it had been earlier that day. He clenched his jaw, sitting on the stool next to the three of them. "Please tell me you're not going with Nikki's idea of X-Mass, or Vince's logo idea for it."

Vince smirked to himself - the logo he'd suggested (two people with substantial mass participating in X-rated activity) would NOT work; especially not if they wanted to be played on the radio at some point. But, it did get him a laugh from the other three.

"No viable ones," Nikki said, now on the couch while Tommy scribbled away penning down a rhythm he had in his head.

An audible sigh left Mick's mouth. "I've got an idea for a name - it just doesn't give me the right energy when penned down. Paper?" Mick's hand shook slowly above the paper as he spelt the words - 'Motley Crew' - onto the paper and handed it to Nikki.

Seconds later, it had been crossed out. Mick looked at the bottom of the page and smirked.

Mötley Crüe

"Been waiting a long time for this day..."

The conversation had piqued Tommy's interest. "That's going to look AMAZING on the banner above the stage!" He said, twirling his drumsticks in his hands as he looked at Nikki, the same giant grin on his face. "Mötley Crüe, what it's pronounces the same as Motley Crew? Or are we gonna do that whole Scandinavian O and U thing?" Tommy was leaning against Nikki again, clearly thrilled once he heard Nikki's slight laugh at what he said.

Mick presumed he didn't need nor want an answer - simply a positive reaction from Nikki. The smile on the drummer's face proved him right.

"We're Mötley fucking Crüe," He said, "And we're going to knock all those motherfuckers on their asses."

Chapter Text

Psst, you awake?

Nikki forced his eyes open, moving his head to look at Tommy. The couch had been long-abandoned; the drummer was perched on the side of the bed. He'd made himself comfortable, too - the thin blanket covered everything but his face as he sat there, cross legged, with light from passing traffic the only source of illumination. He shifted a bit, making space for Tommy on the bed and gesturing at him to lie down.

All he managed to get out was a "Yeah, I'm awake," his voice was slightly hoarse, scratchy from being asleep almost a few hours, from what it felt like. Slowly, he rubbed his face with his hand to wake himself up as he heard the light thud of Tommy's head falling onto the pillow next to him, curls fanning out under him. "Now, anyway. What's going on, drummer?" 

There was squirming - Tommy readjusted himself so that he was lying down and facing Nikki fully. His face broke into a grin. "I've got a band, dude! With you. You and me, in a band, together," He said, his eyes the same unmistakable shade of bright brown they became when he was excited. Even in the light you practically had to squint to see, Nikki could make out each individual twinkle in Tommy's eyes.

A smile appeared on his face - the kind he didn't even try to fight back. The kind only Tommy Lee could get out of him, the kind only Tommy Lee would ever see. "We've got a band, Tommy," He said, letting Tommy move closer to himself. "You, me, Vince and Mick. To be honest, I never thought I'd get this far. Band I actually like being in... If you told me that when I was in London, I'd call you an idiot."

Tommy was now right next to him, laughing a bit himself. "You've already called me an idiot, dingus," He teased, gingerly hugging onto Nikki's arm. "Uh - sorry, is it okay? I figured I'd sleep better if I held onto someone.  I get it if you don't want me to, though..."

"Go ahead," Nikki said, fighting a laugh. "Sleep tight, Tommy."

*

The room was empty, but Tommy was surrounded. He didn't know who surrounded him - he only heard their whispers, almost indistinguishable from each other. He whipped his head around, trying to take a step forward but no matter how fast he ran, he didn't seem to be headed anywhere.

He felt a cold hand on his shoulder - it was freezing in the room he was in. If it was a room - there was nothing he could think of right now. He tensed up immediately.

"Who is it?" 

The voice that came out of his mouth was shaky, almost foreign to him. It was frightened - something Tommy hadn't felt in a while.

I never wanted to be stuck with you.  I could have chosen anyone, but I chose YOU, of all the morons.

It was like the air around him was suddenly solid - Tommy recognized everything about that whisper, from the time to the length of each syllable to the words to the barely discernable voice.

I fucking hate you! You can't do shit right, can you? Can't keep your mouth shut when I ask you to-

The voice was progressing into a shriek. Pain radiated off every one off Tommy's limbs, appearing in spots. He felt the familiar fear tear through his throat as he hid his face, curling up on the ground. He fell endlessly, shame cloaking him.

You are too fucking loud! And I told you a million and one times, Lee, DON'T mention a band when you're asked about what you want to do. You're not going to fucking make it, you are an awful drummer! Hell you got kicked off marching band. You were too stupid to graduate high school, what makes you think you've got the skills to make it in music, hm?

Honey's voice ripped through his skull, every punch sending shooting pain, comparable to his shoulder stab wound through his body. He was alone. As much as he'd tried to avoid any form of isolation, he was alone against Honey. He always was, always would be nothing without her. He wanted to scream, at the same time he wanted to stay so silent he popped out of existence - he cared about nothing except stopping the sharp, constant reminders.

A deeper voice came into the picture - one that Tommy would much rather focus on. He whimpered, trying to pay attention to that as he felt everything fade around him, slowly opening his eyes before shutting them almost instantly.

He violently shook his head, not even sure what the deep voice was saying. He gripped onto some fabric that he felt, clawing into it till he felt some slight warmth around his finger tips. He was hyperventilating, shaking and curling in on himself. Hot tears streamed down his face as he struggled to breathe; grabbing at whatever he could reach. He didn't know why - comfort? Agency? Frankly, he didn't care. He just wanted the pain to stop...

*

"Tommy, you're safe now," Nikki mumbled, holding his head against his chest as he whimpered, still shaking and twitching. Sobs filled the once still air of the apartment - it was a relief for him, it meant Tommy was finally letting the pain out of himself. He wanted to comfort him - he wanted to remind him, somehow that he was safe...

"It's okay, T-Bone," He said softly, wrapping both arms around Tommy tightly, letting the drummer cry into his chest. He closed his eyes momentarily; before running his fingers through his soft curls. "You're far, far away from that now, Tommy. It's okay."

Nikki sat up, pulling Tommy close to himself and letting him use his lap as a pillow. He winced, slightly as he felt his nails dig into the skin on his thighs, before he felt Tommy's heart rate finally reduce again, almost back to normal. His breathing was starting to slow down, and the trembling was nearly non-existent again.

"It's okay, Tommy. I'll keep you safe - you just focus on resting properly, okay? " He said, stroking Tommy's hair and leaning against the wall, forcing himself to stay awake as Tommy finally started falling asleep again. He let our a breath he didn't realize he was holding, before lying down again.

"I know you're asleep, and I know you can't hear me. Hell, that' part of why I'm saying this right now -" He took a deep breath in. "You and I clicked the first day we met - two sides of the same coin, and everything. Tommy, you really fucking get me, and all I wanted to say is Thank you."

He laughed to himself.

"That's a lie. There's something else, too. But I don't know if it's a sentence I can say out loud, for a multitude of reasons. Maybe one day, you'll know."

Chapter Text

Vince despised the morning shift. 5:30 was when sane people go to sleep, not when they go to work. He rubbed his face. Fuck whoever ‘Ford’ and ‘Jett’ are for having their inverter spoilt. He could have been asleep in the office instead of using his cash for a bus ticket to fix their damn inverter. They’d better tip well. Who needs backup electricity at 5:30 am?! He groaned, rubbing his face as he got on the beat-up bus, wishing that if he was going to die in a bus crash, he’d at least not have dark circles around his eyes.

“5:30?! Joan Jett I know you’re pissed at me but this is a whole new level of low!”

Well, at least the person Vince thought was Ford was sane. A rare luxury. He chuckled to himself and waited for her to open the door. “Hi, I’m here to fix your inverter?”

Ford grunted. “Mhm.” Her hair was sticking up, and she looked about as angry at the world as Vince felt right then. “Under the stairs.”

Vince followed her, rubbing his eyes as he put his equipment on the floor. “I’ll need to cut your power,” He said, pulling the switch to turn it all off.

“I know you’re dying to ask why I was yelling at Joan, go ahead and ask.”

“Yeah, why were you?” He said, lazily. His ears perked up ever so slightly, and he smirked. Finally, decent dirt. All he got from Tommy were updates about how perfect Nikki was.

“I didn’t want to collaborate with her on her album because her playing and mine are worlds apart. She took that to heart and the inverter broke when we were arguing. Since I’m the villain, I had to get the door. She called you first thing…” She grumbled.\

A shriek cut through the air. There was a thud on the lofted floor. “LITA THAT IS NOT WHAT HAPPENED AND YOU KNOW IT!”

Vince raised his eyebrows – this was going to be eventful.

“Oh?! And how did it happen, Joan? I’m three days younger than you, not three days old! I’m not an idiot so stop treating me like one!”

Vince silently cut the power as he heard fast-paced steps approach.

“Lita, you called me a Jimmy Page wannabe. Guess what, freeloader? Being a Jimmy Page wannabe in a shitty cover group pays the rent!”

“I PAY FOR UTILITIES, JETT! AND I paid for that mullet you wanted because you blew your spare change on a leather jacket that didn’t last a day!”

Joan froze. “Don’t you bring Cindy into this.”

“Stop naming your haircuts, babe!”

Vince smirked to himself – grateful the power was off. Meaningless arguments like this made a shitty side-career worth it. He tuned them out every so often, slightly suspicious when there was silence. He took a deep breath in, bracing himself as he connected the inverter, and turned the power back on. “Sorry to interrupt, but uh – your power backup’s fixed.”

He turned around. There was cash with a sticky not on it – “tips for the power guy” – behind it were Lita and Joan, in a liplock.

“I’m – uh –“ Yes, Vince Neil was at a loss for words. “I’m gonna go –“

Lita waved her hand.

He took the money and left.

*

It was still early when Tommy woke up again. He kept his eyes shut, curling into the familiar scent of whiskey and cheap cologne he'd come to associate with Nikki. A small sound escaped from the back of his throat, only just loud enough to make the smallest dent in the silence. He smiled softly to himself when he felt Nikki's arms wrapped around him protectively, the thin blanket long forgotten by them both. He buried his face in Nikki's chest again, inhaling deeply before slowly opening his eyes. He rubbed his face against the fabric of Nikki's shirt, soon lifting up his head.

The first thing he noticed was a slight moist spot on Nikki's shirt - it stood out against the faded black, but was mostly dry. He frowned softly to himself; it was too regularly shaped to be sweat. Slowly, he lifted his head - Nikki was sitting upright, his head leaning to the side as he held Tommy in his arms, his fingers tangled in Tommy's hair. Nikki's muscles were tense; Tommy could only assume that it was because he'd had a restless night somehow. He wracked his brain, but nothing came to mind. He remembered bouncing over to Nikki's bed at night, he remembered lying down with him and falling asleep, he remembered Nikki saying they'd make it.

What he didn't remember was why Nikki was tense. 

He wound his mind back, trying what he could to remember what happened the night before - if he's the reason Nikki's sleeping uncomfortably, he'd better find a way to fix it. Shit, Nikki's too damn nice to him. Anyone else wouldn't be, Honey would have-

Oh.

The dream came back to Tommy all at once - the shame, the humiliation, all of it. He remembered Nikki waking up, holding him close and rocking him gently till he fell back asleep - maybe Nikki fell asleep soon after. He nudged Nikki's arm with his head, trying to get him to move his arm so he could get him to lie down.

It was his fault. Nikki woke up in the middle of the night to tell him it's gonna be okay, and for what? So he could have a crick in his neck the entire next day? So he could be exhausted, uncomfortable and drained the entire day all because he decided to take pity on an 18 year old he met in a bar once? Fuck, this was bad. Tommy knew Nikki would regret that one day - he didn't want it to be soon. 

He didn't want it to be ever.

But that's what people do, right? They get sick of you. The honeymoon ends and everything they loved becomes everything they hate. Your spontaneity becomes recklessness, your humour an inability to focus, your energy becomes overwhelming and the intense love they once gushed about becomes your inability to understand that they don't like it when you're clingy. Bonds you thought were forged in iron melt like ice on a hot day, and soon there's nothing - to them, you're nothing.

Tommy wanted to cry. He wanted to scream, he wanted to shout, he wanted to shut his heart so it wouldn't implode again.

All he found himself doing was hold onto Nikki, hide his face again and stay absolutely still, softly shutting his eyes, trying to relax into his arms again. 

*

Nikki's eyes snapped open the second he felt someone nuzzling into him. His neck felt stiff, and his back felt strange as he looked down into his lap, relaxing as he noticed the drummer still holding onto him. He stroked his hair gently, letting his fingers move through Tommy's brown curls, twirling a lock of it around his finger before lifting his head up. His neck popped slightly, as he felt around for the pillows so he  could put them under Tommy's head as Nikki went to work for the day. He grabbed both, lifting Tommy's head and putting them under him.

"Hey," He heard him said softly, opening his eyes and looking at Nikki. "I'm up, you don't need to do that..."

Nikki's calloused fingers brushed against his cheek, tucking his hair away. "You've got time till you have to get to work. Go hang out with Vince? It'll be good to hang out together, without me and him causing fights."

Tommy just looked at him incredulously. "You're sure?"

Nikki nodded in response, "And when I get back we'll rehearse, okay?"

Tommy's face broke into a grin, and he nodded, hugging Nikki tightly before letting go. "I'll get breakfast ready, you shower, you smell," he joked, testing the air. The low chuckle emerging from Nikki's lips was indication enough - Nikki liked his stupid jokes and childish humour. It felt foreign to him, but he finally felt like he was needed by someone - not just wanted around. He smiled, throwing both arms around Nikki tightly as he saw him going to the bathroom. 

"Hey Tom?" 

"Yeah?"

"Do you want to shower first?"

Tommy looked up at him. "You know my showers are long - what if I use up all the hot water, Nikki?"

"Don't worry about that."

"But you need to shower?"

Nikki sighed. "It's okay, I can take a cold one. You should shower too, I like the way your hair curls after you shower," He said, before laughing to  himself at the slight blush that now decorated Tommy's cheeks. He cupped his face in his hands, squeezing his eyes shut for a second. He laughed softly as he felt the drummer hide his face.

"But Nikki!" he hid his face in Nikki's chest, before hearing a slight laugh. He smiled, relaxing but still keeping his face hidden as he felt Nikki's arms wrap around him too. "Fine..." He said in a small voice, mostly just trying to conceal how his voice became significantly higher when he was excited.

He felt Nikki's fingers in his hair, slowly massaging his scalp as he relaxed into them. "Did you wake up last night because of me?" He was already feeling guilty.

"Yeah. Don't worry about it - I'd rather wake up every night than see you in pain like that."

Nikki could see the guilt wash over Tommy before the drummer pulled away slightly, looking down. "I'm sorry you've got to deal with all this crap..."

Nikki softly brushed his chapped lips against Tommy’s soft ones, placing a firm but gentle hand on his cheek. Tommy smiled, moving a step closer to him and kissing back. Tommy threw control to the wind as he kissed Nikki back, his kisses sloppy, uncontrolled, but passionate. He didn't use his mouth, he used his heart. He laughed softly to himself, pulling away and resting his forehead against Nikki's. "Guess you don't smell that bad," He said, a blush dancing on his cheeks again as he looked at Nikki. "You're a good kisser, too..."

Now there's no chance to backtrack. Nikki’s in this for the long haul. He felt himself grow cold, squeezing his eyes shut so he wouldn’t lash out. He couldn’t, not at Tommy. Not after this.

“Can we keep this between us?” He asked, still holding onto Tommy’s arm. Vince and Mick may have secrets of their own – but Nikki wasn’t ready to share his. He looked at Tommy. “It’s nothing personal – I just can’t… Say it yet. To myself, more than anything.”

He felt Tommy put his head on his shoulder again and nod slowly. Relief flooded through him. Tommy didn’t hate him. He didn’t think he was a coward. He smiled, playing with his curls and staying with him, standing on the spot in front of the bathroom and letting out the breath he didn’t know he was holding in.

Chapter Text

Tommy leaned into Nikki. He'd had a long, long day at work - a middle-aged lady threw a hissy fit when a hair - from her head - fell into the tea she'd brought somewhere else. Who goes into a coffee shop with a giant cup of tea? It took all of Tommy's self-control to not lash out at her, right then and there.

"Fuckin' bitch," He mumbled, holding onto Nikki's  shirt. It was already slightly damp - pressure and yelling always made him tear up. He hated it - it took him hours to calm himself down after it. Putting his legs over Nikki's lap, he curled up, hiding his face and listening to his heartbeat. "She laughed when I started breathing heavy. Laughed. I couldn't take it, Sixxy..." 

"It's okay, Tom. We'll figure this out, okay? I've got you," He said softly, running his fingers through his hair in an attempt to comfort him. He didn't know the full extent of what happened with Honey - but hearing Tommy's reaction, and how much he was shaking as he begged Nikki to go pick him up seconds after he used a payphone... Nikki knew he as leaving something out. 

Clearly, it wasn't something small - Tommy hated keeping things from people. Just two days back, he'd left his shower midway to remind Nikki that he'd eaten the sugar and needed him to buy more. He let the younger one rest his head on his shoulder, slowly rubbing his back and relaxing his muscles, wanting nothing more than to keep his Tommy safe.

"Each time she said something to me it made her smile to  see me squirm. She yelled. Called me stupid, said I wasn't good for anything and should just go back to my parents, they're obligated to put up with me," He choked out, Nikki's shoulder already damp for the tears. "I wish someone - anyone, save you - took me seriously. I don't want to go through life with everyone making me second-guess  every god damn thing I do!"

Oh. It was about Honey - he sighed under his breath. He wrapped his arms around Tommy tightly. "It's over, Tom," He said softly. "Nobody's gonna hurt you again. Shitheads like her won't do anything to you, I swear."

A small whine left Tommy's mouth - he hid his face and clutched onto Nikki. "I don't know what to do. Everything she said - it felt so familiar. At some point you start wondering..."

Tommy just sobbed softly - hiding his face in Nikki's already damp shirt. It had been an exhausting day - by the looks of it, he hadn't even begun to let out what he was feeling at that point. Nikki knew it would be another long night for the two of them - not that he cared. In his head, Tommy feeling better was far more important than any amount of sleep. He kissed his forehead gently, rocking him in his arms. 

*

Vince stared at the bottle of bleach he'd bought for his hair. He felt a slight sense of achievement - he needed it, he bought it. He remembered the awful trips to the makeup store when he lived at home - the way his mother would insist on doing something or the other to make him more 'feminine'. Secretly, he'd been glad she didn't suspect anything - at the same time, every single trip to a similar store brought back too many memories, and the painful reminder that most people wouldn't give two shits what he really was - to them, he'd always be a girl. He ran his fingers through his hair, a nervous habit of his, and started the walk home. 

"Hey, you're the cute electrician!"

Vince turned around, forcing a smile. "Hey," He said, teeth still gritted. "Uh - inverter giving you trouble again?" 

He recognized the blonde - her sharp yet smooth voice wasn't an easy one to forget. What he couldn't remember, however, was her name. She just laughed and walked over to him, "Nope. But Joan naming her new haircut 'Nina' is. At some point, I think she's just trying to get on my nerves. She finds it oh-so-funny when the calm Lita Ford gets annoyed and her British accent slips out," She laughed, playfully shoving his shoulder.

Right. Lita was the one he'd liked - the one who hadn't called him there at 5.30 in the morning. "Things any better with you two?"

She just laughed, ruffling his hair. Vince bit his inner cheek, muffling a groan  as he looked at her, mildly annoyed. 

"You could've just said no."

"Alright, curious boy," She smirked, "How about you tell me what's got you in a permanently piss-poor mood and I'll tell you about me and Joan? Oh, your place, not mine."

He had to admit, he was intrigued. Of course, he knew there were things he'd have to filter, but there was still enough to say. "You know what? Sure. Tomorrow evening work for you? I'll meet you here."

Lita just smiled, tapping his shoulder. "See you then."

Chapter Text

"You bought it on your own, didn't you?" John said in a stern voice, coming out of the bathroom. "Mick, what have I told you a hundred times? you drink as much booze and eat as many painkillers as you do, and you'll end up dead. Why can't you fucking listen to me? I told you I'd buy them for you at the end of the day."

Mick looked at his boyfriend uninterested. "Okay," He said, lying down on their couch. John was a sales rep for a pharmaceutical company - why he remained with Mick was a mystery to him. He looked over at his boyfriend, the evident exasperation on his face making him feel a twinge of guilt. He quickly brushed it off - John never understood. How could he? He didn't face what Mick did. He'd never feel the way he did. Mick inhaled deeply. "Man, Corabi, you've got to get off my back about this. You know how it feels, I've told you. Why do you insist on asking me to quit the painkillers every god damn time, hm?"

He didn't mean to snap. He never did - it was just something that happened. John put up with it - bless his soul - not a word of protest. It wasn't that Mick didn't try - of course he did. He just needed to be alone.

At least, that's what he told himself.

*

Nikki had his notebook clutched close to himself. Tommy knew not to disturb him - it looked like he was drawing, but the way Nikki held a pen... He could be drawing, or writing, or scratching ancient demon summoning runes onto the paper for all he could tell. He waited patiently, just clearing up the apartment.

"Tom?"

His head snapped up. That meant Nikki wasn't working! His face split into a grin. "Yeah?"

"We've got ten songs down, right?" He said, "Covers included. That makes it a set."

His heart fluttered. "What are you implying, man?"

A soft smirk appeared on Nikki's face as well. "You know those flyers you designed? I think we finally have a use for them."

It was as if the sun shone directly out of Tommy's eyes. His face lit up with a sort of glee that Nikki had only ever seen on him - pure, genuine, and honest. He wore his heart on his sleeve, to some that was a weakness. Tommy made it his strength.

Rehearsal after rehearsal followed, to Nikki, it seemed almost surreal. The band wasn't a collection of people anymore, when they played their hearts almost beat as one. He took in a deep breath, "Tomorrow. That's the day, the day the world meets Motley Crue."

Chapter Text

Nikki groaned, rubbing his temples as he tried to shake off the remnants of sleep. The room was filled with a soft glow from the early morning light filtering through the curtains. He glanced at the clock, realizing time was ticking away faster than Tommy's willingness to get out of bed.

"Get up," Nikki mumbled, giving Tommy a gentle shove. The response was a soft groan of protest as Tommy rolled away from the disturbance. Nikki sighed, frustration evident in his voice. "I mean it, Tom, we have the show tonight. I told you not to stay up sorting the cups. We stole them from that preppy coffee place you wanted to try; we're gonna chuck them anyway, they're fucking paper."

Tommy, still half-asleep, rolled over with his face buried in the pillow. "You didn't mind when you got extra marshmallows in your chocolate," he mumbled, his voice muffled. "I'm awake, but I don't wanna get off the bed. It's soft."

Nikki fell silent for a moment, then relented with a sigh, climbing into the bed. "Move over," he instructed, pushing Tommy towards the wall. Their limbs tangled together, creating a chaotic yet comfortable embrace. "Ten minutes, then we've got to get up, okay?" Nikki yawned, fingers interlacing with Tommy's. A small smile escaped Nikki's formerly serious expression as the warmth of the bed enveloped them.

"Hey Nik?" Tommy's brown eyes met Nikki's gaze. "You gonna wear those leather pants tonight? They look so good on you."

"Uh- We'll see," Nikki replied, biting the inside of his cheek, trying to conceal any sign of the blush he felt coming on.

*

"Lita let me borrow some lipstick; she said it would look good," Vince said, casually placing the makeup on the table. "Don't give me that look; she said it's for you guys too."

Mick, adopting his usual nonchalant demeanor, dismissed the concerns with a shrug. "You boys put it on. I don't like red - Hey!" He swatted away Tommy's hand, noticing a bit of glitter. "Is that glitter?" he wrinkled his nose in playful disbelief.

Nikki, seeking comfort in a familiar remedy, added with a chuckle, "Pass me the Jack, old man, I can't do this sober."

"Get it yourself, pretty boy."

Teasingly, Nikki turned to Vince, "You think I'm pretty?"

Vince's sigh cut through the banter as a gentle reminder of the impending responsibilities. "We have soundcheck soon, pretty yourselves up, or don't, I don't give a damn. But I'm not the only one that's gonna put this shit on!"

"Vince, chill, man - Tommy!"

Nikki's breath hitched as Tommy abruptly left the room. "What the heck - give me a minute; I'll get him."

*

Tommy closed his eyes - he didn't need this. Logically, he knew it was just the guys having fun, but the fighting, the fucking fighting... It was too much. He knew it wasn't real, but what did that matter? His stupid brain, stupid, stupid...

His arm jerked, reaching for his face. Oh, god he did not need this, not right now. Not with the guys about five fucking inches away... He squeezed his eyes shut - he could see it, them on the stage, lights bright, hot, burning at his skin. The crowd, their eyes spotting every flaw, every mistake, every misstep they made. His bandmates, his best - hell, only - friends, screaming at him for messing up. He would mess up, that was just... Inevitable.

Nikki - enigmatic, gorgeous Nikki - could get ANYONE, why would he want Tommy, an anxious mess that couldn't stop a 19 year old girl from making him miserable? Nikki would know, the world would know, they'd tear them apart the first chance they get. Hot tears fell down his face - he blew out a puff of air, squeezing his eyes shut. His heart beat like a drum - not the steady ones in marching band, or even rhythmically, hell, thunder had more order to it - it was like someone had handed a monkey a trash can lid, and given it free reign inside Tommy's skull . Not the organized beats that marked time, but a dissonant cacophony that rebelled against any semblance of order. It was as if the drum had lost its sheet music, and the monkey inside gleefully improvised, creating a tumultuous symphony that resonated through every fiber of Tommy's being. Each beat felt like a rogue note, a wild drum solo that defied convention, an unpredictable cacophony that left Tommy's chest in pieces.

Tommy's hands flailed to hold himself up, grabbing at the wall - cold, hard, smooth, unforgiving. He closed his eyes, leaning his head back, suddenly feeling warmth on his cheek - rough hands, but gentle agains this skin. He exhaled slowly, "I'm okay," He lied, feeling the thumb rub him under the eye. "I'm -" He said again, cut off by a soft shushing. He heard something, leaning in - the scent comforting him as he leaned his head down. "i'm oka-"

"It's okay. You're okay," He heard Nikki's voice, leaning in as he rested his head on his chest. "Whatever happens tonight, we're okay. It doesn't matter, none of it does, there's always the next one."

Tommy closed his eyes, wrapping his arms around him, the soft fabric of this shirt absorbing the residual tears.

"We'll be okay. Let's just have fun tonight, alright? We'll celebrate after."

Chapter Text

"You've got it smudged on your face, a little bit."

Tommy blinked, then turned toward him. "Is it really that visible?"

Vince laughed, soft and crooked. "Not bad, just a little raccoon chic." He reached out without thinking, thumb hovering near the corner of Tommy’s eye. Tommy laughed - nervous energy radiating off him in waves. Vince licked his thumb, 

"Don't. I like it."

Nikki's husky voice made Tommy lean back in his chair slightly. Vince dropped his hand, and tommy looked in the mirror... "Don't? Nik, I look like a racoon, Vince said so."

"I say bull," Nikki walked over, and Tommy smiled without meaning to - eyes catching on Nikki's pants. His movements weren’t catlike, exactly, but they had a deliberate rhythm to them. Like he owned the space.  Tommy stayed still, catching a whiff of Nikki's scent: cigarette smoke, mixed with the cheap soap they used at his apartment, and a hint of something earthy and herbal. His eyes wandered, reaching Nikki's smudged eyeliner. For the briefest moment, there was a twinge in his chest.

Calm your shit, Tommy, he thought to himself - cut short by Nikki's firm, calloused fingers holding his face in place, making two quick lines below his eye.

"Now it looks intentional," Nikki muttered, voice low.

*

 Tommy wondered if you could melt under lights. He looked up, and his eyes nearly fell out of his head. Surely this wasn't the standard - was it? How did anyone focus, especially when the rest of the place was dark? Or did that help - no, the dark would make this feel brighter, not dimmer. God, he was going on stage tonight, under these lights that could for sure melt metal. His fingers spun his drumsticks around - over, under, let it go, catch one, catch the other, repeat - the rhythm the only thing keeping him grounded. He let out a small puff of air - 5 minutes til the bar opened. Not empty, not a packed bar - why was he so tense? He had played shows before, before everything with -

She's not going to ruin today. No, today is for him, and Vince, and Mick, and Nikki -

God, what about Nikki? Nikki said this was a band he had faith in - that Tommy was someone he had faith in. If Tommy let him down...

"Goin' back for a smoke."

Before Tommy knew it, he had gotten up from his stool, carton of cigarettes he'd taken from Nikki's nightstand in his hands, before going to the back rooms. The lights, Vince and Mick getting ready, the microphone feedback... God, why did he think this was a good idea?

He flung open the back door - propped it open with a cinderblock, the alley cracked and uneven beneath his boots. The air was cooler out here, not fresh (where in LA can you find fresh air? Tommy had lived around there his whole life, there's no way this was fresh) just less... dense than indoors. Tommy leaned against the wall and shook out a cigarette with fingers that wouldn't stay still. He dropped it once, cursed under his breath, and lit the second one with hands cupped to block the breeze. The lighter clicked twice before it caught.

The first drag hit fast. Sharp and bitter. He coughed once, eyes watering slightly, then forced himself to take another. It steadied him—barely. At least it gave him something to do with his hands. He exhaled slowly, watching the smoke curl up and vanish into the night.

Five minutes. Just five more. Then lights, noise, maybe disaster.

He thought about Nikki’s eyeliner again. The way he didn’t even flinch when he’d said, “I like it.” The way he’d drawn those lines under Tommy’s eyes like it was nothing.

Tommy pulled the cigarette from his lips and stared at it like it might give him answers. It didn’t.

He took another drag, then one more. Before he knew it, it was down to a little stump - only the filter left. He crushed it under his boot. His fingers still smelled like it as he pushed the door open again.

*

They started with the song Mick hated.

It wasn’t planned, not really, but Nikki kicked it off anyway. Loud and clumsy on purpose, just to catch your attention. That chugging, ugly bassline he’d half-written in a motel room, too much coke in his nose, too much KISS in his head. Mick had told him flat-out it sounded like a discount Gene Simmons riff. Nikki said good, and played it louder.

Now, under the lights, it didn’t matter. The bar wasn’t even half full, but it felt like it was vibrating under his boots. The speakers screeched, and Vince had already gone hoarse during soundcheck, but the noise was real. The way the air shifted when they hit that first chorus: that was what Nikki played for. He didn’t play bass the way he was supposed to. Never had. He couldn’t read sheet music, didn’t know his scales, didn’t care. He played like he wanted to rattle the floorboards loose. Everything he loved - T. Rex, Sabbath, Bowie, New York Dolls - they didn’t sound clean either. They sounded like sex and glitter and cheap beer. Like they wanted to take your head off and then kiss you on the mouth.

The second song was sloppier, faster, something new they hadn’t even rehearsed properly. Vince fucked up a lyric and laughed into the mic. Tommy didn’t miss a beat. His drumming was tight, relentless, a little showy in that way Nikki secretly liked. He'd toss and catch his sticks like they were nothing, but held a beat like it was gold.

Nikki turned slightly on stage, half-out of instinct, half-out of the magnetic pull that Tommy had without realizing it. His hair was falling in his face, eyeliner still smudged, but those two little black lines Nikki had drawn were holding up under the sweat. It made Nikki feel... weirdly proud. Tommy was magnetic, and Nikki was metallic - drawn together in some inexplicable way. Silently, he thanked whatever gods existed that nobody paid attention to the rhythm section til a band got big.

He looked happy back there, or if not happy, then wired. Tuned in. The kind of alive that only happened when he hit a groove. Nikki watched the way he moved: shoulders loose, mouth slightly open, chewing the inside of his cheek. Fills within fills, adding more complexity to his sound than Nikki thought necessary. 

That was the thing about their sound. It was a mess. A loud, swaggering mess. But sometimes, when it locked in just right, when the floor vibrated and the feedback squealed and someone in the back actually screamed or clapped around - those were the moments that Nikki understood faith.

He turned toward the drums again. Tommy’s eyes met his for half a second. Just a flicker. A flash of teeth. And it was there again, that same tension they always felt outside - curling hot and stupid in Nikki’s chest.

*

The feedback screeched - there was a small group on their feet in front of the stage. Vince slammed the mic back onto the stand, dragging Nikki to the front, Tommy and Mick following.

Motley fuckin' Crue. Motley Crue. Motleyfuckingcrue.

It felt right. The blood in his veins was electric - he could see it on Mick's face, too - this gig was different. Something about it set it apart from every other gig they'd played before starting this. The lights dimmed, and the sweaty, testosterone-fueled hug felt right more than anything else. 

Tommy's head instinctively buried itself into Nikki's shoulder, Mick looked like he was able to tolerate the contact. Vince wasn't stupid - but he wasn't about to bring it up. 

"First round's on me," Mick's voice came from the back. Gruff, but something softer in it today. "After that, I'm gone, John's in the crowd."