(REQUESTS CLOSED) Gay Motley Crue Oneshots Part 2

Can You Die Twice?(Part 2)

It’s a boiling summer night like any other in LA. People are out on the strip rocking out, fucking and getting fucked in more ways than one. That’s just how things went in the 80s. A decade of reckless fun and everlasting partying.

At least...that’s what the masses say. It’s all fun and games until you slip up royally. Until you make the mistake that changes everything. That’s exactly what Nikki Sixx had done the night he murdered Tommy Lee in blind, closed minded rage.

That’s all it had been. An unwillingness to accept that Tommy is quiet literally something what Nikki himself should be: a demon. Unable to wrap his head around the fact that his sweet, angelic drummer was a creature of Lucifer himself, he’d beaten the poor thing so ruthlessly.

Now Tommy lays in his arms, his precious light gone. His skin is cold and ashen, full lips pursed in lax as if awaiting a kiss. If only he hadn’t let his primitive instincts outshine his cognition. If only he had held himself back for even a second. He could have let Tommy run, allowed breathing room. Then maybe, just maybe, Tommy would still be alive.

“Nikki...Nikki...wh-why are you crying?” The drummer’s soft, dark chocolate voice caresses his ears, startling him out of his trance. He shakes his head, attempting to clear his head. He’s hallucinating, he just has to be.  He sobs louder yet, wondering why the universe would play such a cruel trick on him. Of course, it was the least he deserved. To hear his sweet friend’s voice being carried by the wind without ever being able to see him again. He wants to cry, scream, even louder than he already is.

“Shut up! Shut the fuck up! You aren’t here! You’re just-you’re just-” Nikki pauses to gasp in deep, rapid breaths, heart palpitating with the speed of a galloping horse. He had to free himself from this  nightmare. End it. End it all. He starts frantically patting himself down, searching for a knife, a gun, a blade, broken glass, any fucking thing to reunite himself with his beloved Tommy.

Tommy’s tail curls around Nikki’s waist, his warm palm finding its place on his terror twin’s tear-soaked face. He guides the bassist’s face to align with his own. The warmth sends tingles into Nikki’s skin and he knows it’s real. Nobody but his Tommy Lee smelt of joints, booze, chocolate, and flowers, along with this sent of an anomalous fire he had never before noticed.

This was real. His Tommy was real. His Tommy was okay. He was alive and smiling at him, gazing into his eyes. Nikki cries still, but now it is out of joy,”Oh, thank fucking god-satan-g-I-I don’t fucking know but whoever brought you back to me thank god!”

Tommy giggles, his demonically layered voice now sounding as soothing and cheerful as his human one. He shifts to sit next to Nikki, though his tail keeps its place around Sixx’s impressively wide hips. His clawed fingers work through Nikki’s hair, pacifiying him as the demon sings lowly in a mixture of Latin and Greek. It’s nearly incoherent in lyrical terms, but the tune is beautiful, like a lullaby from the finest regions of heaven and hell simultaneously. It grounds Nikki, assuring him that Tommy is indeed, still here.

“Sixxy, I died long ago...where would I go if I did so again?” The demon drummer keeps at his work on Nikki’s hair, continuing his song as he awaits his dear friends calming. He can tell that Nikki is still badly shaken. Asking for conversation now will do nothing. The aftershocks of Nikki’s presumed grief are still too strong.

So they continue like this for what feels like hours, even to a creature of such age as Tommy. The demon smiles, thoughts filled with a decadent sense of completion as he pets his best friend. An angel would usually do something like this, but Lee takes pride in being unlike the other creatures of hell. Perhaps that was why they cast him back out to Earth. Little did they know they gave him a second chance, and the man of his dreams.

Finally, Nikki composes himself, swallowing thickly as he firmly grabs Tommy’s lanky wrists. His voice still wavers, but he can talk,”Tommy...you i-idiot...d-don’t you ever scare me like that again! I...I thought you were turning to dust I...I’ll never fuckin’ forgive myself, man. I-I-h-how are you even still here?!”

Tommy chuckles,” Sixxy, I’m a demon! I’ve been dead for more than a century. It’s going to take a lot more than that to make me leave you.” He nudges Nikki’s face with his horns playfully, only for the bassist’s strong, calloused hands to grasp them. 

Rubbing his horns, which are glossy, and smooth to the touch, Nikki laughs back,”Centuries?! You’re older than Old Man Mars, T! When were you born?” 

Tommy seems to think for a while as he rubs Nikki’s hips and sides, clawed hands caressing the bassist’s fucking enormous thighs. He smirks faintly at the soft moan he earns,”I believe I was born during the industrial revolution. I died while working a factory machine. Can’t fuckin’ remember the exact day though.”

The demon’s tail twitches, obsidian and chocolate eyes sparking as if his death was a fond memory rather than a fearful one. Nikki’s eyes bug out, jaw hitting the floor,”You were born in the 1600s?!”

Lee stares, spluttering before bursting into hysterical laughter. Of course his best buddy is just as dumb as him,” Sixx, the industrial revolution was the late 1800s you fuckin’ dumbass!”

He laughs heartily, the contagious sound bringing Nikki to laugh with him.