After a long, satisfying show at the Whisky A-Go-Go, Nikki Sixx is in a fantastic mood...A mood which he shares with his beloved blond vocalist, until a certain thrash metal nay-sayer enters the eq...
“Hey, Sixx.” The bassist was vaguely aware that Vince was now outside with him. Not that he minded, of course. Sometimes Vince would share in these quiet moments with him. That just made them all the more special. “Hey, Vince,” the older replied, not bothering to open his eyes. He didn't need to. The singer leaned against the wall beside him, laying his head gently on Nikki's shoulder. All was silent, save for a soft contented purr that came from the blonde as his bandmate wrapped an arm around him, his fingers stroking through the younger's soft hair.
But the silence didn't last long.
“Wow,” called a voice from not-so-far away, “Further proof that Mötley Crüe is a FAG band!!”
Nikki groaned and opened his eyes reluctantly, displeased that his peace had been disturbed. He scanned the dark street, quickly finding the one lone soul who the voice could've belonged to. It was a short, ugly little thing that went by the name of Lars Ulrich, the drummer from an underground thrash metal band called Metallica. “Ignore him,” Vince said quickly, grabbing the bassist's arm as he stood up straight, “He's just an ass.”
Nikki simply ignored the singer. “Wanna say that to my face, Ulrich?” he called back in response, fists clenched tightly by his sides. “Oh wait – you CAN'T, 'cuz you're too SHORT, MOTHERFUCKER!!”
“I don't need to prove myself to you,” the drummer spat back. “I'm not the one wearing fuckin' lipstick and six-inch heels!”
“Hey!” the bassist growled, shaking his wild hair out of his eyes. “JUST BECAUSE I'M WEARING FUCKING LIPSTICK DOESN'T MEAN I CAN'T KICK YOUR FUCKING ASS, ULRICH!!” Vince gently grabbed the older man's shoulders, attempting to hold him back. The last thing he wanted was a fight.
“TRY ME, SIXX,” Lars shouted back, raising his balled fists. “I COULD TAKE YOU ANYDAY!”
“Oh yeah?” Nikki said through clenched teeth, glaring across the street at the smart-ass drummer. “YOU AND WHAT STEP-STOOL, ASSHOLE!” The singer, visibly annoyed that his wishes had gone un-noticed, sighed and started lightly banging his head against the brick wall.
“O-HO,” the drummer called back with a laugh, “That's CLEVER! What, did yer BOYFRIEND come up with that one??”
That one struck a bad note with the bassist, and it stung. But he wasn't about to let his guard down. Vince saw the anger in his friend's eyes, and he knew that it would be pointless to try and stop it. “IF YOU VALUE YOUR BALLS, ULRICH,” Nikki began, advancing slowly towards him, 'YOU'LL SHUT YOUR FUCKING MOUTH AND LEAVE VINCE OUT OF THIS!!” Vince didn't even have time to wonder, because before he could open his mouth to interject, the older man had taken off down the street, his platform heels clicking dully against the pavement as he chased Lars around the corner.
It wasn't long before the bassist returned, panting softly with a look of accomplishment on his face as his footsteps slowed. He shook his wild hair out of his eyes once more, returned to his place leaning against the brick wall, and pulled the confused singer into a gentle embrace. “So...?” the singer asked, looking up into the taller's glassy green eyes.
“I kicked his fucking ass,” Nikki replied with a triumphant smirk. “He deserved it, that asshole...” He sighed, snuggling the singer closer. “Nobody talks shit about my Vince and gets away with it.”
The blond coughed nervously and looked up at his friend. “Your Vince?” he asked curiously, raising an eyebrow. It wasn't an annoyed question; to be fully honest, Vince rather liked the idea of belonging to his gorgeous raven-haired best friend. The bassist hesitated for a moment before catching the younger man's lips in a soft kiss. It was sweet, gentle, loving. The singer's heart fluttered excitedly as he felt the older's tongue gently sweep across his bottom lip.
All too soon, Nikki pulled away, breaking the kiss. The blond touched a finger to his full lips in shock, and a smile spread itself across the bassist's face. Once again, the older wrapped his arms around Vince's waist, pulling him into a gentle embrace. The singer sighed softly, nestling his face into Nikki's shoulder as his friend gently stroked his platinum-blond hair with long, slender fingers, placing a delicate kiss on the top of the younger man's head. The bassist let out a soft, contented sigh. Nikki had always loved quiet moments like these...