#(okay so maybe this was a cop-out answer but shhhhhh)

[doriangrayanswers]

Your painter boyfriend looks kinda fine, mind if I take him?

This feels like several trick questions…. But I’ll have you know he’s more than kinda fine. And you probably don’t deserve him if you can’t see that

[forkanna]

[AO3 LINK]

NOTES: Wow, that was quite a response to just reposting the prologue! Hopefully you all enjoy the rest of this fic as much as you've been anticipating it; I know it's been a lot of buildup to it, unintentionally I promise you. Here you go, better late than... well, you get it.

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The next morning had been a hard one for Anna. School just felt strained and weird without knowing for sure where her mother was. Punz helped her through it, and she managed to do most of her classwork, but her mind kept wandering off.

Tomorrow was the earliest they could report her missing to the police. Of course, she had a feeling that it wouldn't matter one way or the other, but it was the strongest hope that she and her father had. Knowing what they knew about time travel, they had refrained from calling John or Wendy for the time being; she might come back.

She had to come back.

So when she walked into the living room after school and saw her mother sitting on the couch, looking quite weary but whole, safe, normal, she ran into her arms. It didn't even occur to her to ask about her father, or what she was doing there, or anything else. Need overrode curiosity.

"MOM! Oh my god… oh Mom, you completely freaked me out, I didn't know what happened!"

Elsa wrapped her arms around Anna, hugging back just as a tight as a sound halfway between a laugh and a sigh spilled from her lips. "My angel… I'm so sorry for worrying you like that. Really."

Anna felt her eyes well with tears. She had been unwilling to truly face the idea that Elsa was truly gone, but seeing her here threw into sharp relief just how much she had been terrified. Her arms grew tired as she held on, but there was nothing that could make her let go. Not at this moment. Even the mere thought had her arms tightening their hold, squeezing just a little harder.

"Please don't leave again," she said softly. "Not- not without telling me first. Dad- Dad came home last night and we were gonna go to the cops and-"

"Shh…." Elsa hushed her, inhaling deeply. "I promise I'll never do that again without telling you. I'm so sorry, Anna."

Tearfully, Anna drew her head back, just enough so she could look in Elsa's eyes. "Where did you go? Did I… did I do something?"

Oh God. Elsa could see the forty-something version of her daughter, asking that same exact question. "No, no, baby. No you didn't do anything."

"But you just left me…" Anna's words, cracked and small, were also so heartfelt. So sincere in their pain that it made Elsa want to cry, too. How could she even have thought of giving this up? Of leaving the person who, truthfully, had become her entire world?

"I waited until the day your father would come home. That way, you wouldn't be without someone to… look out for your well-being, no matter what came to pass."

Clearing her throat and sniffling, Anna pulled back and gazed at her mother. "What… came to… Mom, what happened? Where did you go?"

"I was figuring some things out. Took a few weeks. And I've come to some decisions." She took a deep breath, then let it out very slowly before she took both of Anna's hands. "I'm not leaving you."

"Okay. I'm… b-but you made it sound like you… wanted to?"

"Not 'wanted'. But I thought it might be best." She released her hands. "However, there are going to have to be a few changes around here."

Still incredibly relieved at not losing her mother, Anna slumped downward. Then she said, "Okay, okay. You want me to stop hitting on you? Is that pretty much it?"

Elsa nodded slightly. "For now. I'm… willing to revisit that at a later date, but you have to promise me something. From now until you are in college, this stops. We have to learn to keep our hands to ourselves. It's going to be difficult, I know; we've already proven that it will be. But that's very important to me. You might technically be of age, but… you're my child, and you live in my house. There's no pretending that won't affect which of us has the power in a… in… well, in a romantic relationship."

"O-oh." Anna wasn't sure what to say. This sounded like bad news, but it also sounded like there was some good news attached. "But… what about when I'm in college?"

Only now did Elsa smile slightly. "Depends. I want you to really take this time to think hard about you and I. We both will. And we'll try our best to be a normal family. I'm never, ever going to stop loving you!" Her smile faltered slightly, and she looked away with red cheeks. "And if, once you're out on your own, not… being 'parented' by me, you still want to be something more than mother and daughter… we can try that. I know it's a long time-"

"Oh, Mom," she breathed, crushing her with her arms again, sore as they still were. "God! Of course, I… oh I'm sorry, I'm so dumb, I kept trying to… I d-don't know, I'm stupid, I'm so stupid!"

"Shhhhhh." It was soothing and sweet, and she kissed the crown of her head. Anna hummed a little through her tears, glad for the gentle gesture. "It's okay. Everything's okay, Anna; you're going to be just fine."

"B-but what if we try it, and I hurt you somehow? Make you sad th-that your daughter is… disgusting?"

"Don't ever think that. Even if I've been a little disgusted by your desires, by my own, that does not mean I think you are 'bad' or… or anything! And it never did. Do you hear me, sweetie? You'll always be my sweet Anna, whether or not I can handle you being my Tori at the same time. Always."

With renewed vigour, Anna hugged her mother so aggressively. Elsa returned the expression – and, where once she would have hesitated, now there was no sign of that reluctance. It was just what Anna needed.

"I should… really call Punz," she said finally. "Let her know what happened."

Elsa's lips quirked. "I should probably ring your father," she said. Still, neither of them moved. If anything, Anna seemed unable to stop herself pressing closer.

"What if… what if I can't?" she whispered. Even in that low tone, it was obvious she was scared – terrified – of something. "You want me to stop until college, but what if I can't? Or, if I slip up? Mom, I can't lose you just because my balls get ahead of my brain sometimes."

Squeezing tight for a second, Elsa chuckled and closed her eyes. "Accidents happen…" she began. It wasn't good enough.

"No! How can we trust that it would even be an accident when I want you so bad? It hurts, Mom!" Anna sniffled. "It hurts to have you so close sometimes when I want so much more but you… don't…"

"Anna, listen to me." Elsa had Anna's face clasped in her hands, giving her the ability to look directly into her eyes. "You have no idea how much I want you. But right now is the wrong moment. For you, for me… and sweetheart, you need to think of Punz, too. That girl adores you. And-" Elsa lowered her voice, though she smiled now, too. "I would love to be her mother one day, too. Well, mother-in-law."

"That still doesn't solve this problem," Anna said. Her words were monotone, but she felt herself blushing at Elsa's suggestion. It was easier to deflect than it was to think on the future and whether or not Punz would be part of hers.

"You're right. But I guess what I've realised is… this problem is not worth me leaving you behind. I want to work on it together. And if we slip up again, we will deal with it like adults. We aren't animals who have no willpower."

"Are you sure?" she asked with a weak laugh. "You came pretty close that morning."

At that, Elsa leaned in and whispered, "I really did. I was very close." The double meaning made Anna's cheeks grow yet rosier. "But I'm serious; I won't try that while I'm 'in charge' of you. That's not right. Even if we try to treat each other equally, we can't be equals until you're out on your own. And I'm not going to let you drop out of school or anything like that, before you ask," she warned.

"Damn, you caught me," Anna hissed, and Elsa chuckled. "Still Mom with your freakin' parenting chess moves, ten steps ahead. Man… that's so long, though."

"Is it? I know it seems that way to you, because you're young."

Sighing, Anna admitted, "Maybe not. And you're right, like… the past couple of weeks have been great! Not just the parts where we flirted, but everything. All three of us hanging out together was nice, too."

"See? We can make that work. And as I said, if I know you're making advances on purpose, then I will have to leave until you've graduated. Just for my own sanity, and to make sure I don't hurt you – and then I'll come back. But a few slip-ups here and there can be forgiven, Anna."

Anna's hand stroked up and down Elsa's side for a moment. Again, she didn't flinch away, but she started to look a little less comfortable, so Anna stopped. "Okay. I… don't really get the whole 'I can't be in charge while we're dating' thing, because like, you parenting me is totally separate. But I do trust you, Mom. So… so I can try it."

"Not as separate as it should be. But thank you, Anna," Elsa said honestly. She was smiling, too, so that was a good sign. "Now I really must contact your father." She got up and was halfway to the kitchen before Anna spoke.

"Hey, Mom?" she asked. Elsa turned.

"Yes, sweetheart?"

Suddenly, Anna felt very gun-shy and guilty. Like she was going to ask her mother for a treat after her father had already said no. "Can I ask a favour?"

"Of course!" Elsa turned more fully towards her daughter, and Anna felt her mouth grow dry. Just for a second, but it was more than enough, really.

Swallowing hard around a lump in her throat, Anna looked away. "Can I… have a kiss?"

Her mother answered with a sigh, but it was more weary than truly upset. "That would seem to defeat the purpose of giving us this dry period, wouldn't it? Unless you just mean a cheek-kiss."

"I didn't," she admitted readily. "Um… and I do kinda get what you mean? Cooling off to make sure this is what we really want, cause we can't put the toothpaste back in the tube. But like, I already did that. The past couple weeks were me trying not to feel things for you, and it didn't work. But if you want to try for longer…"

"I think, if a few more months go by and you still want me the way you did a couple of days ago, then it will prove that we're really intended to be that for each other. And if the feelings fade for you, then won't it be better that we never went too far? That we never… crossed the line that cannot be uncrossed?"

Anna was having trouble wrapping her mind around what Elsa was trying to get through to her. What would be the difference at this point? She already let her go down on her once before, even if it was her younger self and not this mother standing in front of her now. But she supposed there was probably some wisdom in this plan that she simply hadn't considered.

"Just tonight," Anna whispered very quietly. "Like, to get it out of my system. Then tomorrow, we can go back to 'Mom' and 'daughter' and all that, and… see where we end up when I go to college. And I know, I sound like an ungrateful brat, and it's demanding, a-and… I'm sorry. But I think it'll drive me nuts if I never get to touch you from now until I'm out of the house!"

"It's not a good idea, Anna." But she relented. "Fine. But you have to make all the moves. I already basically attacked you in 1985, and now that I really am your mother…"

That part, Anna could understand. Especially after she explained the whole 'being in charge' aspect; if she was worried about wielding power over Anna, she would give it all to her. Smiling, Anna placed her hands on Elsa's waist. "Just a kiss. Maybe it won't even feel right and we won't have to worry about anything more."

Both seemed to realise at the same moment how silly a thought that was. Anna could feel it already, that pull. Her mouth was no longer than dry – no, she was almost salivating at the thought of doing this again. Her cheeks warmed and her heart picked up, trotting in her chest as she took a step closer.

"Just a kiss," Elsa echoed, though her voice had suddenly lost its power.

Biting the inside of her cheek, Anna leaned forward. Elsa wasn't much taller than her – wasn't much taller than she had been in '85 – but still Anna missed. Her lips found Elsa's chin, and Elsa let out a snort of what could have been laughter.

Anna didn't correct herself upward, however. Contrarily, she moved away from Elsa's lips, grazing hers down to lave at her mother's throat.

"Anna…" Elsa tried. It was meant to be a warning, but instead it came out hoarse and throaty. A small noise slipped from Anna as she wrapped her hands more solidly around Elsa's waist. It was more of a hug now, and it had the side effect – intended or not – of bringing them even closer together.

Eyes sliding shut, Anna merely enjoyed the taste of her mother's skin. She felt gentle fingers tangling in her hair, and was prepared for when Elsa tugged her away. Even if it was a gentle distancing.

"This isn't quite what we agreed to," she sighed nervously. But she could see her mother was uncertain. Guilty. There had to be a way she could remove that guilt. What would make this woman she adored more comfortable with her how much she adored her?

"Elsa… you can call me 'Tori' tonight if you want," she murmured. "If that makes it easier. I could even dress up in 80s clothes or something? Like… since the whole problem is me being your daughter, I could be her instead."

At that, Elsa let out a soft laugh. "I didn't know we were doing an all-night affair. But… well…"

"Well?" Anna asked after a few seconds passed and her mother didn't finish the thought.

"I did ask Kristoff to get a hotel room. Give us space enough to figure things out." Anna drew back to see Elsa looking ashamed, but also smiling very slightly. "Not that this was what I had in mind. Just wanted to be prepared for any… eventuality."

For a few seconds, Anna had to suppress the tingles burbling up through her body. From very specific places. Elsa had planned for them to sleep together. Not as an intention, but a precaution – though that was still more than she had hoped lips pushed into Elsa's neck again, hearing a sigh. Then she whispered, "What if I just keep kissing? All over?"

"An- Tori," she corrected, and Anna smiled against her neck.

"You don't have to do anything back. I'm good. But… I want to try this out. See how far I can get before you need me to stop. Or before I need to stop."

"Let's just stick to kissing above the waist." When Anna pulled back to grin at her, head starting to duck downward, she hastily added, "Above the shoulders! Jesus Christ, how did I raise such an opportunist?"

"You didn't; the other Anna probably wasn't as bad as me. And she also wasn't as hot for you as me…" Knowing she was pushing her luck, she leaned up to whisper into Elsa's ear, "And I'm pretty hot for you right now."

Elsa let out a sharp breath that was probably covering something else. "Anna…" she tried one last time. This one felt breathier and needier than before, and Anna could feel the warmth pooling just below her navel.

"I just want you," Anna said softly. "To touch you… in whatever way you let me." Her hips rolled very slightly against Elsa's – not enough for any real friction, but certainly enough to give truth to her words. Elsa gave out another shuddering breath. "But for now, a kiss will do…"

And she did just that, sealing their lips together once more. Elsa sank down into it as if it were a warm bath, perhaps grateful that she no longer had to speak. It didn't really matter.

Slowly, Anna began to back away, leading them back to the couch. It seemed safer than heading for one of the bedrooms. It took Elsa a moment to realise what she was doing, but when she finally caught on she wasted no time in guiding Anna. Despite what she had said, she seemed to be a little less willing to stop now.

But finally they were seated, a strange parody of that moment in Doc's car. Anna had little doubt that she wanted to try paying her mother back for what she had done there, either. Hopefully Elsa felt the same.

Anna slipped her tongue between Elsa's lips, and she only groaned and accepted it with her own, leaning back until she was lying on the couch with Anna over her. Her arms never tightened around Anna, and she never gripped her shoulders; only laid her hands gently on her biceps. Seemed she was deadly serious about not making any 'moves', after all.

When they broke apart again, Anna's hips still grinding, Elsa warned her breathlessly, "This is… more than a kiss."

"Yeah. But hey… tonight is our night, huh? Like, the last one to be Tori and Elsa."

"It is. Even though we aren't going as far as you think we're going," she told her, resolve returning as she pointed a finger up at her.

"Right, I get it. So…" Biting her lip, she got up from the couch, leaving Elsa briefly confused. "Let's do it. Let's dress up."

What an adorable blush crept into the middle-aged woman's features. "Oh, you… were serious about that?"

Dancing backward a little, she said, "Remember that outfit I made you buy? The one that you said you wouldn't wear out of the house, short-shorts and crop top? You can put that on, and I'll find some stuff in my closet that makes me look really… different. Really Tori for you. And I'll change my hair, and wear the shoes from the dance!"

"Oooh," Elsa sighed at the mention of the shoes. Apparently, that was such a strong tie to the memory of going down on Anna that it instantly heated her up. Then she cleared her throat. "Well… I suppose it wouldn't hurt to simply look the parts. Might help create necessary boundaries."

She knew what her mother really meant; it would help assuage her guilt if they were recreating the past, instead of forging a new, sinful future. Clapping her hands, she started to head for the hallway. "You just wait! This is gonna be amazing!"

"I hope you're right," Elsa chuckled as she started to follow her. They were both going the same way, after all. "But I just wanted to reiterate..."

Hesitation. So she prompted, "What?"

"No matter what happens… I'm always going to love you. That was never in danger at any point, Anna."

"I know. Don't worry, we got this. Promise-promise."

"Now, that sounds familiar..."

Anna had no way of knowing what Elsa meant; she hadn't said it yet, after all. But she was all smiles as she retreated to her room with glee, only sparing Elsa one last glance over her shoulder to see her mother was standing in the doorway to her own room with a bemused smile on her blushing features.

Still so beautiful.

                                         To Be Continued…

[alolowrites]

Late Night Visitor

Summary: A mysterious stranger visits your balcony and accidentally leaves behind a priceless jewelry that they stole from a museum.   

Author’s Note: I’m pleased to share the next story for @bnhabookclub​ Hero Camp Bingo event. The prompt I used was “Crime AU” It took a while getting this done because of work stress and having slight writer’s block (plus I kept changing the story’s direction). But really, it was because of how stressed/tired I’ve been the past few weeks. So, really sorry if it took forever posting another story.

It’s also my first time writing for Hawks, so hopefully I did him justice! He was the first character that popped up when working with this prompt. Please enjoy!!

Word Count: 2.3K+

“Ah! Hot, hot!”

Well, isn’t this just great? Nothing like accidentally burning your tongue during dinner to remind yourself how impatient you are—damn hunger. One hand flails to cool down your mouth. Steam dances above the hearty bowl of curry rice, the sweet smell of caramelized onions greeting your nose with a soft kiss. Bless the local 7-11 markets for selling quick and easy meals.

You sit criss-cross applesauce on the fluffy gray rug and scroll through social media for the millionth time. It’s been a slow weekend as yesterday’s news is recycled for today’s news. A random show plays on the television, but you don’t pay attention to the white noise. All your focus is on the phone, yet you still reach for another bite from your meal. How the rug stays clean during dinner nights at home is a complete mystery.  

Sipping on your drink, you spare a glance at the balcony and do a double-take—a stranger is crouching outside. You choke, “Oh shit!”

Without thinking, you scurry behind the gray couch, not caring if the rug becomes messy. Your pounding heart is like a concert bass drum which echoes around the small apartment. The sound drowns out the show’s mindlessly chatter. Frightened eyes peek around the corner, and you whip back in full regret.

The person is still outside. Their back is facing toward the balcony door, and they are wearing a form-fitting black hoodie. Hands search for your phone, but they come up empty. Panic finally settles in when you realize it’s on the coffee table. Great, you moan as your head softly hits against the furniture—is the door even locked?

You’re faced with a dilemma: Do you stay out of sight until the stranger leaves or risk being seen while getting help? After much deliberation, you swallow a hard pill and growl at the ceiling, “If I’m doing this, I better not die!”

You’re like a soldier crawling through the mud with a drill sergeant yelling down your neck. You snatch the phone off the table, but make the mistake of looking up at the sliding door. Everything comes to a screeching halt as curious gold eyes stare into your timid ones. The mysterious visitor becomes more intimidating thanks to the balaclava mask—it covers the lower half of their face.

The intense staring contest last for an eternity. You nearly rip off the loose strands on your rug when the stranger approaches closer; they stop when you back away. Taking pity on you, they jump over the balcony and disappear into the quiet night.

A sense of relief washes over you.

Who knows what could have happened to you? Maybe your mom was right about learning some self-defense; the pepper spray is not enough. As you stand and dust off your pants, a shiny light catches your attention; it’s coming from outside. You go against your better judgment and tiptoe toward the balcony.

Your jaw immediately falls to the floor when you spot an exquisite ruby pendant. A sparkling round diamond sits above the bright red gemstone, a slight tint of purple hue lurking underneath. Even the platinum metal chain carries an air of luxury. It’s as if the gods carefully hand-crafted this entire jewelry themselves. In short, it is simple but elegant.

Sliding the door, you wonder if this is some kind of trap. After checking your surroundings, you swiftly pick up the accessory and snort, “Thank you for making me feel poor.”

Fingers glide along the gemstone’s perfect curves as you gaze at the sleeping neighborhood. Your mind goes wild: Who was the person with those haunting golden eyes? Why did they come to your balcony? And why in the world did they leave behind a beautiful masterpiece?

You have so many questions but very few answers.  

༛༛ ༛ ༛༺༻༛ ༛ ༛༛

“So, you didn’t call the police?”

“Um…no…?”

“And why not?”

“It was a mixture of being both scared and stupid.”

“Oh my—” Fuyumi pinches the bridge of her nose. You twiddle your fingers like a guilty child and sink further into the booth. Fuyumi had her suspicions when you texted her to meet up at the usual coffee shop near your apartment. It’s your go-to place whenever you’ve done something questionable, which is ninety-nine percent of the time. Plus, the café whips up the perfect batch of castella—her favorite pastry.  

Customers stroll in and out of the coffee shop as piano music plays softly in the background. Roasted coffee beans linger in the air, tempting your nose with its delicious aroma. Out of habit, you push the castella closer to Fuyumi as if that would help soften the blow. She exhales, “Next time, please call the police.”

“Yes, mother,” you mumble much to Fuyumi’s displeasure, but she lets it slide. With the worst over, you bounce straight up and tap the table with an air of excitement. “Oh! Here’s the best part though, besides surviving a break-in—”

“The person was outside your balcony.”

“—close enough, but not really the point, okay?” Fuyumi rolls her eyes, and you fish out your phone to show her a picture. She takes a closer look as you ramble off. “Anyway, my late-night visitor left behind this gorgeous pendant! Why they were carrying this around is beyond me, and so carelessly too. I’m no jeweler, but I’m pretty sure those stones are worth a fortune—still beautiful, though.”

“Yeah, and stolen!” The white-haired teacher hisses. You blink, wholly baffled at her extreme reaction. Fuyumi whips out her iPhone with two fingers flying above the screen. She shoves it toward you, your eyes skimming through the article. The news delivers a sharp slap across your face as the realization sinks in.

Oh no…

Fuyumi bites her lip, “It’s The Grand Droplet, a priceless heirloom rumored to offer infinite life and prosperity. Police are saying the notorious thief, Hawks, stole the pendant last night from the Yutaka Jewelry Museum.” A few seconds later, she adds, “You have the pendant—”

“Shhhhhh!” A hand attacks her arm, your panicked eyes wandering around the coffee shop as if your cover got blown. No one turns their heads, but you shoot an annoyed glare at Fuyumi. “Why don’t you say it louder? I don’t think the barista heard you!”

“I’m sorry! It’s just,” she grips the table’s edge and leans closer, “This is serious! You have to bring the pendant to the authorities. See, this is exactly why you should have called the police last night! The longer you wait, the more guilty you look. Maybe you’ll even become an accomplice to the crime.”

“You’re not helping!”

“Sorry…”

You dramatically groan into your hands, “Why did this happen to me?! When I said I wanted to live like Larry, I didn’t mean this!”

“I know,” Fuyumi pats your head and sneaks a bite of her delicious treat; her phone chimes beside you. She checks the message before flashing an apologetic stare. “Listen, I have to take care of something with my family, but I hate to leave you like this.”

“No, it’s okay. I can handle this myself,” you pathetically convince her. “I’m sure nothing bad will happen, knock on wood—”

“The table is metal.”

“I said what I said!” Your fist aggressively pounds the table, scaring off some customers. A mother hastily pushes her child away from the chaotic scene. You calm down and sigh, “I promise to call you if I’m in danger, okay?”

“Okay.”

You nod before whispering, “Sorry, table.”

༛༛ ༛ ༛༺༻༛ ༛ ༛༛

The walk back home is anything but relaxing. You are on high alert, throwing suspicious glances at anyone coming too close to you. They could be undercover cops waiting to ambush you and interrogate your poor soul for hours until the necklace reappears.

But I didn’t do anything! I’m a good noodle!

You sigh as the key unlocks the door, your shoes flying off by the entrance. Fortunately, you hid the pendant in a safe place. All you want to do is get rid of this jewelry; it brings nothing but trouble.

Marching down the hallway, you grumble under your breath, “Stupid Hawks, and his stupid stealing habits.”

Everyone knows about the infamous Hawks. He strikes when one least expects him to, and somehow successfully evades capture after every heist. But Hawks always leaves behind his signature red feather as a little present for authorities—it never fails to rile them up. Hopefully, the cops show some mercy when you explain what happened. Maybe you should work on your puppy dog look before heading downtown, which might help you score a few sympathy points.

You find the burgundy jewelry box sitting on the closet’s top shelf and breathe a sigh of relief—the pendant is still inside. Not wasting precious time, you close the lid and exit your room. A soft click makes you freeze.

Standing by the balcony door is Hawks, who wears a black jacket with a white shirt underneath. His ashy blonde hair is lazily slicked back, a few strands sticking here and there like no tomorrow. Surprisingly, he lowers the balaclava mask and flashes a boyish grin, “‘Bout time you came home! I was getting bored out there.”

“How did you—wait, never mind. You break into high-security places to steal things for a living,” you say, shifting the jewelry box onto your right grip. “Listen, as much as I would like to stay and chit-chat, my day is fully booked. Can’t really cancel on these people, ya know?” You slowly tiptoe backward, an awkward laugh ringing through the air. “Let’s do a rain check; I’m free next week. Okay? Okay! See ya—“

“Hold it!” You halt on his order, a curse slipping out your mouth. Hawks strides across the floor, and you clutch the box closer to your chest. You feel as though your feet are glued to the ground, the nerves growing stronger once Hawks stands only a few feet away. He crosses his arms and nods at the box, “Whatcha got there?”

“Oh, it’s nothing special, really.”

“Can I take a look?”

“No.”

“Why not?”

“Um, because I don’t want to, that’s why,” you childishly snap and send him a dismissive wave. “Now, shoo! You’re wasting my precious time.”

Hawks chuckles at your feisty attitude. He finds this whole ordeal extremely amusing. You know who he is, you know of his reputation just like everyone else in Japan. And yet, you keep on swinging like a boxer with your witty responses. Still, he has a job to finish. “I’m not leaving until you give me that pendant.”  

“Well, I hope you’re paying for half the rent because there’s no way in hell I’m giving it to you, Mr. Thief.” Two seconds later, you add, “Besides, it’s not even yours!”

“It’s not yours either.”

“Oh!” You give him a fake laugh, pointing one finger at your chest. “So the thief is criticizing me for having something that’s not mine? How rich.”

“You’re lucky I find you cute, but,” Hawks dangerously invades your personal space without giving you a chance to stop him. From far away, he doesn’t appear tall. However, Hawks somehow towers over you, which makes you involuntarily squeak. A wicked glint shines through his golden eyes as he studies your unique facial features. You suddenly forget to breathe when his eyes glance at your lips—damn him.

Hawks plucks the box from your loose grip. The hypnotic spell comes crashing down, and you loudly snarl, “Hey! Give it back!”

“Sorry, Dove,” Hawks keeps you at arm’s length, his gloved hand giving your shoulder a soft squeeze as he smirks, “I got a buyer who’s willing to pay a hefty price for this beauty. Of course, you are way more stunning, but he doesn’t need to know that.”

“Quit charming me!” You’re a blushing mess now and throw a pillow at him; he easily dodges it much to your dismay. Hawks’ cackles bounce off the wall, which makes you scowl. His fingers slide the balcony door open, and he tastes sweet freedom.

“Farewell, Dove!”

You have a deja vu moment when Hawks jumps over the edge. Your legs rush outside, and eyes frantically search the streets, but it’s no use—the thief is long gone. One hand slaps your forehead as you stupidly let him get away with the jewel. Feeling like a deflated balloon, you whip out your phone and make a quick call.

“Fuyumi…yeah, the pendant got stolen again.”

Stupid thief.

༛༛ ༛ ༛༺༻༛ ༛ ༛༛

You collapse on the couch with as much grace as an inexperienced dancer who steps on people’s toes. Work left you exhausted, but you’re glad it’s almost the weekend. You’ll definitely sleep in and have a lazy day on Sunday. It’s what you deserve after meeting tight deadlines and also talking to the police about Hawks.

Fortunately, they do not blame you for anything, much to your relief. It’s been about a week since Hawks broke into your apartment to steal back the Grand Droplet. Police have no luck locating him; they believe the thief is lying low until it’s safe enough for him to strike again. Where exactly is anyone’s guess.

A knock disrupts your thoughts.

It comes from the balcony, and you jump to your feet. No one is outside, although a flash of red catches your eye. Lo and behold, it’s Hawks’ signature feather with a small note attached. Oh, how lovely, you think before snatching the gift off the floor. Your pet name is affectionately written across the paper. You hate yourself for finding Hawks’ calligraphy impressive, but proceed to read the note.

Sorry for cutting our convo short—had a deal to close. No hard feelings, though, right? If anything, I’ll make it up to you, Dove. Besides, you still owe me that rain check.

See ya soon!

-H

You don’t bother biting back your smile.

Guess you’ll be seeing Fuyumi at the coffee shop again.

Fourth prompt is crossed off. Which one will be next? Stay tune! Thank you for reading! 

Previous prompt: Cuddles 

Hero Camp Bingo Masterlist

[jaxl-road]

Better Watch Out

Motley Crue and Guns N Roses have a Secret Santa gift exchange. What could go wrong?

Pairings: Nikki/Tommy, Slash/Axl, Duff/Izzy

This beast is over 10,000 words long, just fyi -_-;

(Also on AO3)

~~~~~~~

“WHY are there so many people in our tiny ass apartment?” Nikki groaned, running a hand through his hair.

Axl scoffed, “You guys hold ragers in your ‘tiny ass apartment’ practically every night.”

“Yeah, but I’m usually wasted when that happens. Right now I’m sober.”

“That’s your own fault,” Duff smirked, taking a long sip from his water bottle that everyone was suddenly positive was not filled with water.

Nikki sighed as Tommy skipped over and patted him on the shoulder. Their dilapidated living room was packed full with the members of Motley Crue and Guns N’ Roses. It was late morning, which in Nikki’s opinion was way too early to be dealing with this many rockers in his apartment. Mick and Slash were sitting on the couch, the former looking annoyed and the latter looking calm and content (or in other words, high). Vince sat next to them on the back of the couch, glaring childishly at Axl who was sprawled across the armchair and looking far too at home in the blonde’s opinion. Izzy leaned against the back of the armchair, smirking in the direction of where Duff was standing, the bassist now casually holding his water bottle above his head while Steven tried in vain to snag it. Finally, still standing at the start of the hallway, Tommy threw an arm around Nikki’s shoulder to keep the dark haired man from returning to bed.

“Come on, Nikki, don’t be grumpy!”

“Have you met Nikki?”

“This is gonna be fun!” Tommy grinned, ignoring Slash’s comment, even as Nikki flipped the guitarist off. “Steven had the best idea, so I invited them all over!”

“Ah fuck, the drummers are responsible for this?” Mick leaned his head back dramatically to stare at the ceiling, “This is going to be more annoying than I thought.”

Steven laughed, moving to stand by Tommy and Nikki, “If by ‘annoying’, you mean FUN!”

“I do not.”

“Anyway,” Steven clapped his hands, “We’re gonna do a Secret Santa!”

There was a long pause as all eyes stared at the blonde drummer and processed his words.

Then they all started talking at once.

“What?” Nikki exclaimed.

“Oh Hell no,” Mick muttered.

“Oh Hell YES!” Slash countered.

“Presents? Presents!” Vince’s eyes lit up, “Gimme pretty things! Whoever gets me I have a list for you!”

“This is going to blow up spectacularly, and honestly I’m down for it,” Duff shrugged.

Izzy sighed and leaned his head on his hand, “See I’m torn. I want to watch the chaos, but I don’t want to be involved in the chaos. Dilemmas, dilemmas.”

Axl leaned back, letting his head hang over the arm of his seat. Narrowing his eyes, he pointed at Steven, “I will agree on ONE CONDITION.”

The attention of the room shifted to the red-head. Steven cocked his head curiously, “What?”

“We do this game on hard-mode.”

“I’m going to regret asking,” Mick sighed, “but what’s hard-mode?”

Crossing his arms, Axl answered firmly, “No giving drugs or alcohol as a gift.”

Immediately, there was a riot.

“Oh COME ON!”

“But I WANT drugs and alcohol!”

“These fuckers’ entire personality is based around drugs and alcohol, what the fuck else am I supposed to get them?”

“If I don’t get Vodka, Christmas is cancelled.”

“You can’t just-”

“Izzy, take Christmas away from Axl!”

“It’s cute you think I have any power over him.”

“Hey! HEY!” Tommy shouted, finally getting everyone’s attention and putting a stop to the bickering. “Look, I love drugs as much as the rest of you, but I have to admit, I think it’s a good idea,” he rolled his eyes when several people groaned in response, “It makes it more of a challenge!”

It took a bit of convincing, but eventually the group reluctantly conceded, Axl smirking victoriously. With the rockers appeased, Steven pulled a top hat out of seemingly nowhere.

Slash sat up straight and glared, “Hey! I’ve been looking for that!”

Ignoring him, Steven tossed about the small pieces of paper inside the hat, “Okay, we’ve got everyone’s names written down, so take one and pass it. And no peeking!” As the names got passed around, Steven continued, “So, I don’t think we need a price limit, cause we’re all pretty broke.”

“We know, but hey!” Vince muttered as he took the hat.

“How about we meet up for the exchange one week from today?”

“At your place, next time,” Nikki huffed.

Axl shrugged, “Whatever, fair enough.”

“Cool,” Nikki nodded, “Now get the fuck out of our apartment.”

~~~~~~~

Izzy would be the first to admit that he hadn’t been on board with the whole Secret Santa thing at first. He didn’t dislike Christmas or anything, but he wasn’t a hugely festive person either. So the idea of partaking in a theoretically light-hearted game with a group of hardrockers didn’t exactly appeal to him.

That is, until Duff came home the next day with an armful of Christmas lights.

“Woah,” Slash chuckled as the bassist walked past with strings of lights trailing behind him, “what, did you rob Whoville or something?”

Grinning, Duff opened his arms to let the mass of lights fall onto the ground in the middle of the living room, “I will neither confirm nor deny where I got these.”

“Fuck yeah, I didn’t think we were gonna decorate the place!” Steven smiled excitedly.

Shrugging, Duff looked away, a touch of embarrassment on his face, only noticeable if you were looking (and Izzy was always looking), “I dunno, I wasn’t planning to at first. I never really got into the holidays, even when I was younger. But since we’re doing the Secret Santa thing with the Crue, I figured, why not?”

He smiled so shyly, and Izzy’s heart fluttered.

That was when he realized that he’d been handed the perfect opportunity. Izzy had been crushing on the tall blonde for awhile now, much to Axl’s amusement and Izzy’s torment. But he’d be the first to admit that he wasn’t the best at expressing his feelings, and everytime he had Duff’s full attention he forgot every word he had ever practiced in front of the mirror and ended up chickening out and running away to get high (he’d also tried getting high first, but the results were the same).

So maybe, giving Duff a gift was the perfect way to try to confess his feelings; a way to help take some of the pressure off his words.

And watching Steven and Slash wrap the lights around Duff, seeing him twirl and laugh when they plugged them in, looking at the way the lights reflected in his eyes and illuminated his smile, Izzy knew he was going to need all the help he could get.

~~~~~

If Nikki was going to participate in this Secret Santa bullshit (and not even get any coke out of it) then he was going to fucking give a gift to Tommy and no one else. He had already been trying to psych himself up to do some sort of romantic holiday shit, but the game with the two bands provided a perfect opportunity. The only thing standing in his way was the name scrawled on the scrap of paper in his hand.

Izzy

Leaning heavily on the kitchen table, Nikki steeled himself for the trip he was about to make. It wasn’t like he could judge Guns N’ Roses for their living situation, given the squalor Motley Crue currently called a home, but it always felt weird seeing them by himself. He didn’t like being outnumbered.

But from what he could tell, neither Vince nor Mick had Tommy’s name (if they did, they’d be teasing him incessantly)(he still didn’t understand how his feelings managed to be so blatant to Vince and Mick while still going right over Tommy’s head). So that meant someone in the other band had his drummer’s name, and he was going to get it if it was the last thing he did.

~~~~~

It was weird for anyone to knock on their door when the sun was still out, Slash thought as he cautiously made his way to the entrance. Cracking the door open, wondering if any of the idiots he lived with had done anything worth a house visit from the cops lately, he was instead met with the wild black hair and smudged eyeliner of none other than the very person he was tasked with finding a gift for.

“Oh,” the guitarist blinked in surprise, opening the door wider, “What’s up Sixx? Wasn’t expecting you.”

“No one ever expects me. My presence is either surprising or disappointing, but never anticipated.”

Rolling his eyes, Slash moved aside to let the other man inside, “Yeah, yeah, whatever you drama queen.”

“I don’t think you can call me a drama queen in good faith when you live with fucking Axl.”

“You got me there,” he chuckled, “But seriously, what brings you to our humble Hell House?”

Sighing heavily, Nikki cut straight to the chase, “Did you get Tommy’s name for the Secret Santa?”

Slash raised an eyebrow, “I thought this thing was supposed to be, you know… secret?”

“Oh fuck off,” Nikki huffed, “No one in Crue has it, which means someone here does, and I fucking want it.”

“Why?”

“…Cause.”

“Ooooooh,” a slow grin spread on the guitarist’s face, “I get it.”

“Don’t-”

“You’ve got a cru~ush~” he sang teasingly.

“Shut up!” Nikki shoved him lightly, his cheeks reddening as he scowled.

Slash laughed, “Okay, okay, jeez! To be honest I assumed you guys were already a thing. Like, sometimes I can’t tell where one of you ends and the other begins. It’s super gross.” He gave an exaggerated shudder.

“Oh please, you and Axl are always fucking hanging off each other.”

Sputtering, Slash gaped, “We do not!”

Blinking, Nikki raised his eyebrows in surprise, “Holy shit. Don’t tell me you two aren’t actually a couple.”

“Keep your voice down, he’s in the other room!”

“Holy shit! And you were fucking with me about Tommy!”

“Shhhhhh!” Slash covered the bassist mouth with his hands, “Okay, alright, we’re both lovesick idiots. I’ll tell you who has Tommy’s name and then we can both never speak of this again, deal?”

Smirking, Nikki pushed his hands away, “Deal.”

Nodding, Slash crossed his arms, “I heard Axl complaining about having to shop for ‘fucking sunshine drummers’.”

“Let’s be real, that could mean Tommy or Steven,” Nikki pointed out.

Slash shrugged, “If it had been Steven he wouldn’t have kept his voice down.”

“You know what? That’s fair.” Nodding decisively, he turned to walk into the next room, “Thanks man.”

“Yeah, yeah…”

Turning the corner, Nikki found himself in a small, dingy kitchen, empty save for the red-headed singer sitting on the counter. He was kicking his legs back and forth, a mug in one hand and a book in his lap. He looked so peaceful and innocent, but Nikki knew better than to let his guard down around the little terror.

Point made when the singer’s head snapped up as he entered, “What the fuck are you doing here?”

“Good to see you too, Rose.”

Axl’s only response was to quirk an eyebrow, so Nikki sighed, “Look, I need a favor.”

That made Axl’s eyes light up in interest, “Oh?”

Yeah, Nikki was gonna be fucked. Asking Axl for a favor was like making a deal with the devil. But, well, desperate fucking times and all. “Yeah,” he glanced away, “I heard you got Tommy’s name for the Secret Santa. Is that true?”

“Maybe,” Axl drawled, placing his mug and book to the side so he could lean forward and give Nikki his full attention, “What of it?”

“I want to trade.”

“Hm,” the singer considered for a minute. Finally he jerked his head at the bassist, “Whose name did you get?”

“Izzy,” he replied, “He’s like, your best friend, right? So it’s perfect.”

Axl snorted, “I don’t like him that much.” He tilted his head side to side as he thought. Nikki held his breath, hoping to God that this could just be simple. But when Axl grinned slowly at him, he knew that he’d have no such luck.

“I’ll tell you what,” he offered, “I’ll give you Tommy, if you get me Slash.”

For a long minute, Nikki could only blink. Finally, he deadpanned, “You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.” If he wasn’t certain that one or both of them would murder him on the spot, he’d just drag Slash in here right now and tell them to bang or whatever. But he was, in fact, certain that one or both of them would murder him on the spot. So.

“That’s my offer, take it or leave it,” Axl shrugged.

Goddamn pining idiots. “Ugh, fine!” Nikki threw his arms up in exasperation. He was pretty sure he knew who had Slash’s name, but it was going to be annoying as fuck.

Axl snickered as he stomped out of the house, shoving past Steven without a word. “What was that about?” The drummer questioned.

“Oh, you know,” Axl grinned, “just the holidays, bringing people together.”

~~~~~~

Izzy sighed from his spot outside the liquor store, pulling his jacket tighter around his body as he took a long drag from his cigarette. The slip of paper with Mick written on it weighed heavy in his pocket. He’d been eavesdropping on his bandmates, and as far as he could tell none of them had Duff’s name. The idea of trekking over to Motley Crue and asking one of them to trade made him wince.

Speak of the devil though. As he ground his cigarette under his heel, he saw a tall, curly haired drummer make his way over.

“Oh! Hey Izzy!” Tommy grinned, “Fancy meeting you here!”

“Yeah,” Izzy shrugged, “Just grabbing a couple things. Too lazy to go all the way to the market.”

“I know that feeling,” Tommy laughed.

Eyeing him carefully, Izzy tried to keep his voice casual as he asked impulsively, “So, how’s the Secret Santa shopping going?”

To his surprise, Tommy’s face fell a little, “Oh, it’s fine. I don’t really know what to get them though,” he rubbed the back of his neck and mumbled to himself, “I was kind of hoping to get a different bassist…”

No fucking way.

Izzy gaped for a moment. What were the odds? He never got this lucky! “You got Duff?” He blurted out.

“Ah, fuck, it’s supposed to be a secret,” Tommy floundered.

“No, no, it’s cool!” Izzy was quick to calm him, “You want Nikki’s name, right?”

“Yeah,” the drummer admitted. Then he lit up, “Do you have his name?”

“Well, no…” Izzy confessed, “But, I was hoping to get Duff. So maybe we could…?” He trailed off, looking at the taller man expectantly.

Looking at the drummer though you’d think Izzy just kicked his puppy, “I really want Nikki though. He like, never celebrated Christmas, and sometimes the holidays make him sad, and I don’t want him to be sad, so I just want to get him something special, y’know?”

Yes. Izzy did know, because he was in a very similar situation. Sighing, he pinched the bridge of his nose, “Right. Okay. If I can get Nikki’s name though, you’ll trade with me?”

Perking back up, Tommy nodded enthusiastically, “Absolutely, dude!”

Nodding firmly in response, Izzy agreed, “Alright. It’s a deal.”

~~~~~~~~

“Please?”

“No.”

“Please?”

“No!”

“Pleeeeeeease?”

“Jesus fucking Christ,” Mick slammed his magazine down, glaring at the bassist across from him, “Why the fuck do you want to trade so bad?”

“Because,” Nikki whined, “Why do you even care? You’re probably just going to get something generic no matter whose name you get.”

“It’s the principle of the matter,” Mick insisted.

“Come on, do you really want to deal with me annoying you over something that you couldn’t care less about? For that matter, do you really want me to bug you with all the bullshit details of why I need Slash’s name?”

“Fuck,” the guitarist muttered, even as he moved to rummage through his pockets, “I’ve been spending too much time around you crazy fuckers, ‘cause you’re starting to make sense.” He slapped the paper down, snatching the one Nikki offered in exchange, “You still owe me though.”

“Yeah, yeah, I’ll find some way to make it up to you,” Nikki grinned, jumping from his seat and running for the door, “Thanks, man!”

“Fuck you.”

~~~~~~~~

The club was packed, bodies pressing together and jumping to the beat of the loud, angry music. Slash sat at the bar with Duff and Axl, Steven and Izzy running late. Guns N Roses didn’t see Motley Crue perform too often, but apparently Nikki needed to meet up with Axl because of their Secret Santa bullshit, and the others tagged along out of habit. Slash figured it might give him some inspiration for what to get the bassist, anyway. The petty part of him wanted to tell him that directing him to Tommy’s name was his gift, but that felt cheap even for him.

But what the fuck did Nikki Sixx want, other than drugs and to fuck his drummer?

The crowd cheered loudly as the four rockers finished their set, making their way off stage as the next band began to set up. Axl chugged the rest of his drink, nodding at the others as he made his way towards the stage, presumably to meet up with Nikki. He and Duff chatted for a bit until the bassist was distracted by the bartender blatantly flirting. Slash rolled his eyes. He knew without a doubt that the tall blonde only had eyes for one person, but he was also the king of playing it up to get free drinks and, well, no one could fault him for that.

“Hey Slash!”

Turning at the sound of his name, he grinned as Tommy and Vince stumbled over to him, “Hey guys! Great show!”

“Thanks!”

“Hang on, I think I see a challenge,” Vince grinned deviously, abandoning Tommy and Slash in favor of competing with Duff for the bartender’s attention.

Slash snorted, shaking his head in amusement, “That’s not going to end well.”

Tommy laughed, swaying from alcohol or coke or both as he leaned against the bar and pushed sweaty curls out of his face, “Vince will be fine. If this doesn’t work out he’ll find another chick and be right as rain,” he waved his hand dismissively.

“Yeah, and I don’t think Duff will be heartbroken either.”

Sighing heavily, Tommy nodded, “Yeah, Duff’s a cool guy.” Biting his lip, he glanced away almost guiltily, “I feel bad for trying to trade his name away for the Santa thing…”

Slash blinked in surprise, “You got Duff?”

“Oh, Goddamn it!” Tommy exclaimed, “I am so bad at this fucking secret thing…”

Laughing, Slash patted his shoulder consolingly, “Hey man, it’s no biggie. Whose name are you trying to get, anyway?” He had a feeling he already knew.

Sure enough, Tommy sighed dreamily, “Nikki. He’s so great, y’know? And I just want to give him something special and nice so he knows I…. y’know,” he waved his hand vaguely.

Snorting, Slash reached into his pocket, “Oh, I know,” holding a hand out, Slash took pity on the kid. What could he say? The Terror Twins were fucking adorable. No matter how much he teased Nikki, he honestly didn’t mind helping them along.

Tommy blinked in confusion as he took Slash’s offering. When he saw what it was, his whole face lit up, smiling so wide it was practically blinding, “Dude! Seriously?!”

“Yup,” He motioned with his hand, and Tommy scrambled to give him his own paper, “Tidings of joy or whatever bullshit. Go get ‘em, tiger.”

“Seriously, dude, you’re the best!” Tommy wrapped the guitarist in a bone crushing hug, nearly knocking the wind out of him.

“Yeah, it’s cool, really, please, I can’t breath.”

~~~~~~~~~~

Izzy and Steven made it to the club during Motley Crue’s last song. Izzy had stopped by the house to change after working, finding Steven asleep on the couch. After shaking him awake (the drummer had completely forgotten about the group’s evening plans) they both made their way to the venue.

Despite snooping around, Izzy could not figure out who had Nikki’s name. He was starting to think someone from Crue must have it, or worse, Duff, which would make for an awkward affair if the blonde wanted to know why he wanted to trade. So he made up his mind to just grovel to the best of his ability and get Tommy to trade with him anyway.

The crowds, mixed with the loud music and the flashing lights made it hard to find anyone. Izzy and Steven eventually got separated, and he ran into Vince, who was too busy cozying up to a busty brunette to pay him much mind. For the first hour or so, he drifted around the floor, listening to the current band, occasionally snagging freebies from the rare fans who recognized him. Tired, and assuming that the Crue had already made their way back to their apartment for an afterparty, he made his way to the bar. As soon as he arrived, he flagged down the bartender and took two shots in quick succession, impatient to get a pleasant buzz going.

Looking across the bar, he finally found familiar faces. Duff was obviously well on his way to wasted, laughing at something with Axl, Slash, and Steven. Quickly slipping over to them, his bandmates greeted him enthusiastically.

“Izzy! We were wondering where you disappeared to!” Steven exclaimed.

“We missed you, buddy!” Duff grinned and slung an arm around Izzy’s waist and okay, screw Tommy, he wasn’t moving from this spot for the rest of the night. He pointedly ignored Axl’s knowing look and the conversation picked back up, the five friends laughing cheerfully and Duff’s hand warm on his hip.

He’d deal with the Secret Santa thing tomorrow.

~~~~~~~~~~

This was not supposed to be this hard.

Nikki had been wracking his brains on what to get Tommy. It needed to be something heartfelt, something Tommy would understand was supposed to be special, but still simple enough that he could give it to the drummer in front of the two bands. Ultimately, he decided that something homemade would be perfect- Tommy would lose his shit over Nikki putting actual time and effort into his gift.

That was how Nikki found himself in Motley Crue’s kitchen at 10am trying- and seriously, emphasis on trying- to bake cookies.

He had a limited window where he had the apartment to himself, and immediately took advantage of it. Baking supplies had been hidden in his room for the last day to keep the others from giving him shit or finding out his plan. The bag of chocolate chips had a recipe on the back, and Nikki could fucking read, so he figured it’d be easy.

The problem started when he realized that while he had purchased ingredients, he had forgotten to consider that their apartment was almost completely devoid of actual baking equipment. The biggest ‘bowl’ they had was an old metal pot, and he was forced to stir with a soup spoon.

Measuring was also tricky, since he hadn’t even thought about picking up measuring cups or anything. But hey, how hard could it be to eyeball it? They had cups, he could fill it halfway just fine.

Judging by the smoke coming out of the oven, it was not fine at all.

Sighing in frustration, Nikki scraped the paper thin and charred pastries into the sink. He had his fingers crossed for the next batch, saying a quick prayer to whoever was listening as he scooped them sloppily and slid them into the oven, not bothering to wait for the single sheet pan they owned to cool down.

He was standing impatiently in the middle of the kitchen when someone pounded on the door. Furrowing his brows, he didn’t know who to expect. People usually only knocked if they were there about a noise complaint, but the apartment was currently silent.

Opening the door, he was faced with a tired and hungover looking Izzy Stradlin.

The bassist had barely opened his mouth before Izzy was cutting him off, “I just need to talk to Tommy real quick.”

Raising an eyebrow, Nikki crossed his arms, “Why?”

“Because,” he ran a hand over his face, “Look, can I just-” he stopped suddenly, finally taking in the man in front of him, “Why the fuck are you covered in cocaine?”

Blinking in confusion, Nikki looked down at himself before sighing at the sight of his flour covered shirt, “It’s not cocaine. You know I’d never waste coke like this,” he gestured at himself.

“Then what-” Izzy paused again, this time his eyes widening as he glanced over Nikki’s shoulder, “-the FUCK is going on in your kitchen?!”

Spinning around, Nikki cursed loudly at the sight of black smoke wafting from the other room. Sprinting to the oven, he threw the door open, coughing when a wave of smoke billowed out. He snatched a dish towel and recklessly grabbed the tray of cookies, throwing the whole thing into the sink. Izzy, who had run up behind him, quickly reached over and flipped the faucet on, steam mixing with the smoke until the entire kitchen was in a haze.

Both rockers coughed and sputtered, waving their hands around their faces. “What the actual fuck, dude!” Izzy cried incredulously, “Were you cooking meth or something?”

Groaning, Nikki dropped his head onto the counter roughly, letting his hair hide the tears of frustration that threatened to well over, “I fucking wish.”

Glancing around the disaster zone of the kitchen, Izzy slowly pieced together what had happened, “Were you… baking?”

“Well I was trying!” Nikki shouted, tugging at his hair and still face down on the counter, “But I’m such a fuckup I can’t even do something as simple as make a fucking batch of fucking cookies without it literally going up in fucking flames!”

Okay, so Izzy definitely had not anticipated this when he came over. Hesitantly, he reached out to pat Nikki awkwardly on the back, “Um. There, there?” He glanced around helplessly, “Where the fuck is the rest of your band, maybe one of them could help with…”

“They’re not here right now,” Nikki finally straightened up, looking utterly miserable, “Vince is shacking up with whatever girl of the week he’s got, Mick is dealing with his ex, and Tommy’s at work.”

Izzy took a deep breath through his nose, trying to resist tearing his hair out, “Right. Okay, I’ll… make you a deal,” he grit out. How many fucking deals was he going to have to make this week?

“What?” Nikki mumbled.

“I’ll help you salvage your baking project if you tell me where Tommy works so I can fucking talk to him.”

“Really?” the bassist looked at him wide eyed and hopeful, “You’ll help? And not fucking tell anyone?” he tacked on with a glare.

“Yes, yes, whatever, let’s just do this so I can get out of here,” he looked around, “Where are your measuring cups?”

“Um…”

Izzy pinched the bridge of his nose. Lord have mercy.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Steven hummed to himself from his spot laying on the couch in their living room. In his pocket was a scrap of paper with Axl scrawled on it. The drummer wanted so badly to get him something good- the singer was his best friend! Well, okay so maybe he considered all the members of Guns N’ Roses his best friend. And okay, maybe there was room for him and Axl to be better friends, but that was why this Secret Santa gift was important! It was a chance for Steven to build their relationship a little more. The problem was, he had no idea what Axl would want. He’d been wracking his brain all morning, but nothing felt right.

At that moment, laughter rang out from the kitchen, light and carefree, “Hey! Get your own!” Steven could hear the smile in Axl’s voice.

Hopping to his feet, he peeked around the corner into the kitchen. Axl was indeed smiling, no matter how hard he tried to look annoyed. Slash was grinning widely as he held a mug of coffee just out of the red-head’s reach, “Sharing is caring, Sweetheart!”

Axl was pressed against the guitarist’s back, his chin resting on Slash’s shoulder as he stretched his arms out to try to reach the mug Slash held in front of him. When Slash finally broke away, rushing to take two large gulps of the coffee, Axl gasped in exaggerated offense, “You asshole! It’s not sharing if you don’t leave any for me!”

Slash laughed, “I’ll give you more of the next mug.”

“Oh no, you wanted my cup? Fine,” the singer rushed to the coffee maker, grabbing the entire pot and holding it to his chest, “But THIS is mine!”

“What! No way! I can’t survive on one cup of coffee!”

“Serves you right!” Axl ran out of the kitchen, shouting between childlike laughs as Slash chased after him, complaining loudly even as his face showed nothing but joy. Listening to the two musicians as their voices rang through the house, Steven was struck by inspiration, a grin spreading slowly across his face.

He knew what to get Axl for Christmas.

~~~~~~~~~~~

Tommy sighed as another stack of plates was placed next to him, grabbing the first one to start scraping off excess food. God, he couldn’t wait until Motley Crue started making enough that they could all quit their shitty jobs. Washing dishes all day wasn’t that bad, but it wasn’t how he wanted to spend his day, either. He tossed his head back, trying to get a strand of hair that had come loose from his ponytail out of his face, when he heard some sort of commotion out in the restaurant.

He didn’t think much of it at first, shitty customers weren’t that uncommon. But then the voices started getting closer.

“Sir, you cannot go back there-”

“I’ll just be a minute.”

“Sir, I’m going to have to ask you to leave-”

“Yeah, yeah, in a minute.”

The voices were right outside the door, and just as Tommy turned, Izzy Stradlin burst in, followed closely by one of the managers. The guitarist looked frazzled, his hair a wild mess, dark circles under his eyes, and what looked like some sort of batter smeared on his shirt.

“Tommy! Fucking finally,” Izzy muttered, steadfastly ignoring the manager that was still trying to talk to him.

“Izzy? What the Hell are you-”

“Look, I have no idea who has Nikki’s name. Can you please just switch with me? I’ll owe you one or whatever, just do this one favor for me.”

Blinking slowly, it took Tommy a moment to figure out what Izzy was talking about. When he finally caught up, he winced, “Oooooh fuck.” Izzy stared at him, the manager still standing to the side just watching. “Um,” Tommy shuffled awkwardly, “I actually….”

“What?”

Gulping nervously, Tommy finally spit it out, “I don’t have Duff’s name anymore.“

Silence stretched for a long minute, Izzy staring blankly while Tommy’s manager looked back and forth between them in confusion. Finally, Izzy slowly stalked forward and Tommy was pretty sure he was about to get murdered.

Izzy stopped just inches away from him, “Who does?”

~~~~~~~~~~

“Slash, I need you to make out with Axl.”

Sputtering, Slash practically spit out his water in surprise and dismay, “What? Why??”

Taking a deep breath, Steven explained, “Okay, so I got Axl for the Secret Santa, right?” Slash opened his mouth, but Steven barreled on before he could speak, “And I want to get him something good, cause I love the dude. And I couldn’t figure out what to get him, cause like, what does Axl even want? But then I realized, he wants you!” Grinning widely, Steven didn’t even register the deep shade of red blooming across Slash’s face, “I’m pretty sure he wants you more than anything. So for his gift I figured I’d get you to kiss him! So will you do it? Please?”

Swallowing thickly, Slash brought one hand up, pushing his hair to try to hide his flaming face, “I- Um- …Hang on, I need to process this.”

Thankfully, Steven was happy to stand patiently while Slash’s brain rebooted. Logically, the guitarist knew on some level that his feelings for the red-head were mutual. At least, he hoped. After all, who’s to say their flirtation wasn’t just a friendly joke to Axl? He’d always been too anxious about being rejected to make any sort of blatant move; to do anything that didn’t have some element of plausible deniability.

But… Nikki had thought that they were already a couple. And now Steven was saying Axl wanted him. And, well…

That had to mean something, right?

Inhaling deeply, Slash finally met Steven’s gaze, “Okay. So. I see what you’re saying. But our Secret Santa gifts are going to be exchanged in front of a group, and do you really think Axl would appreciate me kissing him in front of an audience?” Just saying it had Slash’s blush reigniting.

Steven’s face fell, “Oh, I hadn’t thought of that.”

“Yeah. But… why don’t we trade names? And I’ll, uh, kiss Axl after the gift exchanged,” Jesus Christ he felt like a middle schooler. Fucking Axl messing with his fucking emotions.

The drummer hummed in consideration, “… You’ll tell him I helped though? Because I still want you making out with him to be my gift to him.”

“Fucking Hell, yes I’ll let you take credit if everything works out, so just stop talking and give me his damn name!”

Laughing, Steven swapped paper with the guitarist, “My work here is done.”

~~~~~~~~~

Axl glared at nothing as he stalked down the street. He was a fucking idiot. Why had he gone to the trouble of getting Slash’s name for the Secret Santa when he didn’t even know what the fuck to get him? He knew the type of shit the guitarist liked, and so in theory getting him a gift shouldn’t be that hard. But he wanted to give the other man a gift that would say something. Something that would maybe help… push things forward.

Unless Slash didn’t actually like Axl that way. In which case Axl needed to be able to laugh and say he was overthinking it. Plausible deniability and all.

Sighing, he wandered into another shop. This one seemed mostly full of novelties and souvenirs for tourists. He drifted aimlessly, kicking himself for getting into this situation and debating about just trading Slash’s name away to someone. But just as he was turning to leave the store, eyes burning with hopelessness, something caught his eye.

Picking up the item, he considered it carefully. It wasn’t some intimate symbol or heartfelt offering, but that almost made it better. Just something simple that would make Slash laugh and maybe hint at something more. Smiling, he swallowed back the lingering nervousness long enough to place the item on the counter to buy it.

~~~~~~~~~~

Slash kneeled on the floor, rifling through the single drawer of the coffee table in the living room. He was pretty sure he’d seen a spool of thread in there at one point…

There was a bundle of fabric shoved under the guitarist’s mattress in his room which had been there for almost two months now. The pattern had jumped out at him when he had passed a small stand where an older woman had been selling various crafts and knick-knacks on the street. At the time, he’d had no idea what to do with it, even as he shoved some crumpled bills into the woman’s hands and snatched the fabric. But he knew that he would kick himself later if he didn’t get it.

Months later and sure enough, he was so glad he had. He only needed to do a little bit of simple stitching for what he had in mind, nothing he hadn’t helped his mom with a million times. Now if he could just find that thread…

Suddenly, the front door slammed open. Jumping in surprise, Slash turned to see a frazzled looking Izzy. He barely had a chance to even process what was happening before the other man was stalking towards him, his teeth clenched as he practically collapsed onto his knees next to him.

“Slash,” he ground out, “I know Tommy traded you Duff’s name and I need you to give it to me so I can buy that giraffe bastard a fucking Christmas gift, okay?”

Oh boy. “Um…” Slash would love to tease his bandmate for his crush, but the situation felt a bit… volatile. Gulping nervously as he looked into Izzy’s hard eyes, he admitted, “I actually don’t have Duff’s name. I traded it for-”

“WhAT?!”

In the blink of an eye, Izzy was standing, hands fisted in the front of Slash’s shirt. Slash squeaked in surprise as he was dragged off the floor until their faces were inches apart. “What do you mean you traded it??” Izzy shouted.

“Holy shit, man,” Slash stared wide-eyed at his band mate, stumbling to steady himself and gripping Izzy’s wrists uselessly, “I-”

“Who the FUCK did you trade it to?” Izzy actually shook him, his eyes manic as he tried to shake the information out of the other man, “Who has Duff’s name now??”

“Steven! I traded with Steven! Fuck!”

“What’s going on? I heard my name?”

The drummer didn’t know what to expect, especially after walking in on what looked like Izzy threatening Slash. But before he could process what was happening, Izzy’s eyes snapped to look at him. Steven felt like a deer in the headlights, and in mere seconds Izzy had opened his hands, letting Slash drop unceremoniously to the ground with a ‘thud’ and an ‘oof!’, before full on sprinting and tackling Steven to the floor.

Shrieking, the two musicians tumbled to the ground, Izzy grabbing Steven’s shirt as he pinned him down, “Steven I swear to fuck if you tell me you traded Duff’s name-”

“No, no, I have it! I have it!” Steven blurted out in a panic, scrambling to pull the paper from his pocket.

Snatching the name from his hand, Izzy released him, standing shakily as he looked down at paper, “Fucking finally,” he muttered to himself. He reached into his own pocket and carelessly let it drift down onto Steven’s chest before walking away, slamming the door to his bedroom behind him.

Steven and Slash stood shakily, eyeing the closed door warily.

“What… the fuck?” Steven breathed, turning wide eyes to Slash, who only threw his hands up defensively.

“Fuck dude, I have no fucking clue. This Secret Santa thing is driving everyone crazy.”

“Ah man, am I gonna be the only one with no one to make out with after this thing?” the drummer pouted, leaning down to pick up his new name assignment from where it had fallen onto the floor, “I mean, I guess I wouldn’t mind kissing Mick.”

Slash snorted, shaking his head in amusement. He froze when he noticed Steven seriously considering the paper in his hand, “Stevie, no. Do NOT kiss Mick. We all love the dude, but we wouldn’t find your body after.”

Rolling his eyes, Steven laughed, “Haha, Dude, I’m just kidding,” he glanced back down at the name, “…unless?”

“Steven NO!”

~~~~~~~

Opening the door quietly, Tommy glanced around the apartment. Seeing that the coast was clear, he quickly entered, cradling his gift carefully in his hand. The door to Nikki’s room was closed, music blasting from within, so Tommy was able to sneak past easily and slip into his own room.

He hoped that Nikki understood his gift. The bassist tried to shrug it off, scoffing whenever the subject came up, but Tommy could tell the holidays were hard for him. It hurt Tommy’s heart to see the other man struggle, and he wouldn’t even really talk about it. The most the drummer got was some drunken muttering on the nights Nikki got really fucked up, but never enough for him to really get it off his chest and feel better, so he always awoke the next morning just as melancholy and frustrated and distant.

Sighing, Tommy placed his gift gently on the table next to his bed. Maybe it was far fetched, but he loved Nikki. He just hoped his present would communicate that.

~~~~~~~

Izzy was collapsed face down on his mattress, the same spot he’d been in for the last hour. When this week had started, he had not anticipated having to go through so much trouble to get his crush’s name. But it would all be worth it when he gave him his gift and-

His eyes snapped open.

Oh fuck.

He hadn’t gotten Duff a fucking gift yet.

~~~~~~~~

Sighing in relief, Duff finally made it home after a hellish double-shift. All he wanted to do was crawl into bed and pass out. He had finished his gift for Steven a few days after they all drew names, and he felt confident the drummer would like his gift when he got it the next night. When he walked into the living room, he waved tiredly at Steven, who was smoking lazily on the couch.

“Hey man,” the drummer nodded at him.

“Hey,” Duff sat next to him, leaning his head back, “Any crazy plans for tonight?”

Steven shrugged, “Nah, I need to figure out what to do for the Secret Santa thing.”

Duff snorted, “You’ve had a week and you’re doing this the night before?”

“It’s not my fault!” Steven whined, “I had to switch names last second.” He crossed his arms with a huff, and before Duff could question what he was talking about, the drummer muttered, “Izzy must’ve gotten you something really good, he wanted your name really bad.”

There was a long stretch of silence.

When Steven finally looked up, he immediately straightened in his seat, eyes widening at the sight of Duff’s pale face, “Dude? What’s wrong, are you ok-”

“Izzy got me for the exchange?” the bassist asked weakly.

“Well, I mean, he does now? He pretty much forced me to give it to him and-”

Duff stood abruptly, Steven following after him with his hands out because honestly Duff looked a little like he was going to pass out, “Oh my God. Oh my God, Izzy is going to give me something. I don’t have anything for him!”

“That’s okay, it’s okay!” Steven desperately tried to soothe him, “You’re only supposed to give a gift to your assigned person, so-”

“No!” Duff’s fingers curled into his own hair, eyes wide and panicky, “Izzy is getting me a gift! He- he deliberately got my name and I don’t have anything for him! That is not okay!”

“Fuck, okay, Duff, just breathe, okay? Oh God, please don’t cry! Duff if you start crying then I’m gonna start crying!”

Just then, the front door opened. Axl blinked in surprise, eyes darting between Steven and Duff and immediately rushing forward in concern, “What the Hell is going on? Why do you both look like you’re going to cry? Do I need to punch someone??”

Duff covered his face with his hands, “I fucked up and now Izzy is going to fucking hate me!”

“No, he’s not!” Steven insisted, rubbing Duff’s back as he turned to Axl, “Izzy has Duff’s name for the Secret Santa and now Duff is freaking out because he doesn’t have a gift for Izzy.”

Axl furrowed his brow in confusion, “But if you don’t have Izzy’s name then you weren’t supposed to get him a gift?”

“Fuck that!” Duff cried, “It- it’s Izzy! I can’t take something from him without giving him something back! He’ll think I don’t care!” His chest was heaving, “Oh my God, I can’t breathe, he’s going to think I don’t care, I can’t breathe, I’m dying-”

Scrambling, Steven and Axl gently pushed Duff back onto the couch, sitting on either side of him, “Duff, Duff, don’t think about that right now, just breathe okay? In and out, just copy us,” Axl’s deep voice was soft and comforting, Steven’s hand on his back grounding him as the two musicians beside him took exaggerated breaths.

As air finally started to reach his lungs, Duff wiped at his face roughly, “Fuck. Sorry.”

“Hey, you’re fine dude,” Steven insisted, Axl nodding in agreement. They were both a little shaken- they knew that Duff could get anxious, and he’d told them that he had had panic attacks before, but they’d never witnessed one before. Still, they managed to keep it together while Duff calmed down.

“Okay, so I still say you have nothing to worry about,” Axl began, “but if it will help, I know Nikki had Izzy’s name to start.”

“And I know no one in the house has his name,” Steven added, “So it’s definitely with someone in the Crue!”

Nodding, Duff took another deep breath, “Okay. Okay, so I’ll just go over, and switch, and… and figure out something to give him… tomorrow…” he ran a hand over his face, “Fuck.”

“It’ll be fine, you’ve totally got this!” Steven encouraged.

“Right. Fuck, I’m wasting time, I need to go,” Standing, Duff took a few steps towards the front door before stopping, turning on his heel and rushing into the room he shared with Steven. He emerged moments later with a paper bag clutched in his hand.

“What’s that?” Steven asked.

“Nothing. See ya,” And with that, Duff was running out the door.

Turning slowly towards Axl, Steven bit his lip nervously, “Should we…?”

Sighing, the red-head stood, “Yeah, probably.” The two men quickly ran out the door after the bassist, following after him down the street. Because they were good fucking friends.

~~~~~~~~~

Slash returned home after making a run to the liquor store and found the house dark, empty, and quiet. He glanced around in confusion, raising his hands in dismay.

“Where the fuck is everybody?”

~~~~~~~~~

“Maybe speed it up just a little?”

“I think the issue is more with the key than the speed,” Mick argued. Tommy hummed in consideration while Nikki made a few notes in his notebook. Motley Crue was crammed in their usual corner of the apartment dedicated to their band practice.

“Well, let’s start with a key change and then see how we feel,” Nikki decided. The others nodded in agreement, but before they could start playing, they all jumped as someone started pounding on their door.

“NIKKI!” A voice yelled, “Nikki, let me in!!”

All eyes snapped to the bassist, “What the fuck did you do, Sixx?” Vince questioned accusingly.

“I didn’t do anything!” Nikki replied, huffing defensively.

The pounding at the door suddenly stopped, and the four rockers heard more voices from outside, “Jesus fuck, Duff, will you please calm down?”

“Should we do another breathing exercise?”

“I’m fucking FINE, I just-”

Finally, Nikki hesitantly opened the door, revealing three fifths of Guns N Roses standing on his doorstep. “Uuuuuh… hi?”

“Nikki!” Duff exclaimed with relief, “Do you know who has Izzy’s name for the Secret Santa?”

“Mother fucker.”

Mick’s voice was more resigned than annoyed, and Duff immediately gave him his attention, “Mick do you have it? Can you-”

“Yes, fuck, whatever, I don’t care!” the guitarist threw his arms in the air in exasperation.

Beaming, Duff quickly jogged over, swapping scraps of paper and also handing Mick the paper bag he had brought with him.

Raising an eyebrow, Mick looked at it suspiciously, “What’s this?”

“Oh, I already had a gift, so you can just give it to him instead.”

“Hell yeah, that makes my life easier.”

“It was the least I could do,” Duff shrugged.

“Great, this has been fun,” Vince rolled his eyes, “Now get out, we’re busy being a better band than you guys.”

“Excuse me?!” Axl stepped forward, fists clenched and ready to go, but Duff swiftly wrapped his arms around his waist and lifted him off the floor. “Hey!!” the singer struggled, arms still reaching out as if he could get a hit in from his current position.

Duff nodded at the four men, “Thanks again. See you guys tomorrow!”

Calling out their farewells, Vince snickered as Axl cried out “This isn’t over, asshole!” just as the door closed behind them.

Nikki shook his head, “I get the feeling that tomorrow is going to be interesting.”

~~~~~~~~~~

By the time the two bands piled into the living room of the Hell House, every single one of them was some level of buzzed. Slash and Steven had smoked a bit earlier in the evening, Nikki, Tommy, and Vince had done a few lines, and the drinks were flowing early. Duff didn’t even bother with pretense this time, a bottle of Vodka held loosely in his hand.

“Man, we should have decorated the apartment!” Tommy pouted as he admired the Christmas lights that had been tossed around and hung haphazardly in the living room, Duff smiling proudly from his seat. Axl, Izzy, Vince, and Steven were pressed close together on the couch, Mick taking the only chair, while the rest of the group sat on the floor. The coffee table was piled up with their shoddily wrapped gifts in the middle of their circle.

“Alright, who’s starting this thing?” Nikki questioned.

For a moment, everyone was silent, each person looking around and waiting for someone else to volunteer. “Oh for fucks sake,” Axl rolled his eyes, “Steven, this whole thing was your idea, so you get to start.”

“Sure!” Steven grinned widely, reaching into the pile to grab a paper bag with a very familiar shape, “Merry Christmas, Mick!”

“Hey, wait a sec-” Axl protested.

Opening the bag, no one was surprised to see the bottle of vodka inside. There was a chorus of complaints, Nikki slamming his hands on the coffee table, “Dude, we said no alcohol!”

But the drummer only smirked mischievously, “That’s the real gift,” he explained, “My present to Mick is saying ‘fuck it’ to the rules.”

The group went silent, all of them considering his words. “Damn,” Slash muttered, “That’s actually pretty good.”

Even Mick couldn’t hold back a small smirk, nodding in appreciation, “I dig it. Thanks, drummer,” he raised the bottle with a nod of thanks, and Steven pumped his fist in victory. Slash mentally sighed in relief that at least the drummer hadn’t tried to kiss the man.

“Let’s just go clockwise, now,” Tommy suggested, “So Mick, you’re up next!”

“Well, surprise, surprise,” the older man rolled his eyes, “I got Steven. So here,” he grabbed the bag Duff had given him the day before, pushing it into the blonde’s arms.

Opening the bad excitedly, Steven gasped in excitement. He pulled out a pair of drumsticks, the handles covered in dark swirls and designs which, upon closer observation, looked like they had been practically carved on with ballpoint pen. “These are awesome! Thanks, ‘Mick’,” he looked at the guitarist first, before smiling at Duff. Slash and Izzy exchanged silent glances. Neither understood the exchange, shrugging nonchalantly and ultimately deciding not to worry about it.

Slash was next, and he shyly tossed a light package wrapped in tissue paper into Axl lap, “I got Axl. Merry Christmas, dude.”

A subtle pink spread across Axl’s cheeks before he even opened the package, but it got even worse once he did. Folded inside was a bandana. Everyone knew it was one of Axl’s favorite accessories to wear, so it made sense as a gift, but what really made him pause was the pattern on it. The black fabric was covered with designs of golden snakes wrapped around dark red roses.

Swallowing thickly, Axl cleared his throat, doing his best to smile casually, “This is awesome, man,” he looked up to meet Slash’s eyes, “Thank you.”

Mick took a long drink from his vodka.

“Okay! Tommy, you’re next!” Slash slapped at the drummer’s arm, desperate to get the attention away from himself and the singer.

“Oh, yeah, right!” Tommy nervously lunged forward, to grab his gift. His present was in a paper grocery bag, which he held carefully by the handles as he placed it in Nikki’s lap next to him, “Here you go, buddy!”

Nikki blinked in surprise, his heart skipping a few beats as he looked down at the bag. Opening it up, his eyes widened as he saw what it was. Moving carefully to keep it upright, Nikki pulled out a small potted succulent. The bassist couldn’t help but let out a small, breathy laugh.

Tommy gave him roots. The fucking, sappy bastard.

“Thanks, man!” He slung an arm around the drummer’s shoulders, pulling him close to his side, “I fucking love it!” He shook his head a little, letting his bangs cover his eyes that he knew were getting glassy. “And hey, what are the odds, I got your name,” the entire room rolled their eyes, a few of them chuckling at the reality of what they’d all gotten themselves into. Meanwhile, Nikki grabbed a foil wrapped bundle and handed it to Tommy.

Peeling back the foil eagerly, Tommy gasped, “Cookies!!”

While they weren’t exactly prize-winning, with Izzy’s help Nikki managed to make the pastries both edible and at least somewhat visually appealing. As he happily shoved a cookie into his mouth, Tommy almost choked when he saw, near the bottom of the pile where no one else could see, one large cookie shaped like a heart.

“Thnn yu nnk! Ahveum!” Tommy’s words were practically unintelligible as he tried to speak with his mouth full, but Nikki understood, especially when the taller boy pulled him into a tight hug.

“Anytime, dude,” both of them were beaming, and even as Nikki called for Duff to take his turn, the terror twins kept their arms around each other.

Duff took a large gulp of his vodka before shakily reaching for his gift. It was small and flat, wrapped in magazine pages, and he couldn’t quite meet Izzy’s eyes as he held it out to him, “Here you go, Izzy. Um, merry Christmas.”

Taking the gift, Izzy could feel himself gaping. He hadn’t expected Duff to get him for the game. Tearing the paper, he found himself pulling out a loop of bass strings. As he looked at it though, he realized that the four strings had been carefully braided together. The braid was then carefully twisted around before being wrapped tightly with a thin metal wire to hold it together as an intricate bracelet.

Izzy couldn’t stop staring at it, “Dude,” he breathed out, “this is amazing. Did you make this?”

Duff was twisting his fingers together so hard it had to be painful, “Uh, yeah, I…”

Smiling, Izzy slipped the bracelet on, only taking his eyes off it for a moment to look at the bassist, “It’s amazing. Thank you.”

Returning the smile, Duff allowed himself to relax, if only a little, “Anytime. Uh, Axl, you’re up.”

Steeling himself, the singer kept his face neutral as he tossed a small plastic bag across the coffee table, “Merry Christmas, Slasher,” he smirked, putting all his effort into not showing his nervousness.

Slash didn’t know what to expect, but when he opened the bag and saw what was inside, he immediately burst into a grin and started laughing. Axl smiled in relief, while the rest of the group looked on in confusion. Finally, Slash pulled out a pair of heart shaped sunglasses with soft red lenses.

The group laughed along with him, “Oh my gosh, you got him rose-colored glasses? That’s amazing,” Izzy chuckled, bumping his shoulder against Axl’s.

“Heart eyes, motherfucker!” Tommy laughed.

As his laughter trailed off, Slash looked up at Axl, his smile soft and sincere, “Thank you, Axl. They’re perfect.”

Ducking his head, Axl smiled back shyly before clearing his throat and turning to Izzy, “Alright Stradlin, your turn.”

The smile dropped off of Izzy’s face, replaced by anxiety and uncertainty. But there was no going back now. He had to fucking commit to the plan. He picked up a small box and handed it over to the tall blonde bassist, “Right. Merry Christmas, Duff.”

Duff looked almost as nervous as Izzy did (Axl didn’t know whether he wanted to smack them or hug them). Opening the box, he blinked in surprise. Tilting his head curiously, he pulled out one of Izzy’s wristwatches. “Oh, cool. Thank you!” Across from him, Izzy took a deep breath and finally managed to force out what he’d been practicing in his head all day.

“If there’s no time like the present, then there’s no present like the time.”

Everyone’s eyes snapped to the guitarist, and he felt his face grow warm with the attention. Then, Duff snorted, slapping a hand over his mouth at the sound. But it was no use- within seconds he had dissolved into giggles. The rest of the room soon followed.

“Oh my God. Oh my GOD,” Axl laughed loudly, “You got him a fucking dad joke for Christmas!”

Even Mick was chuckling, and Tommy grinned at Steven, “I think Izzy beat you as far as metaphorical gifts go, dude.”

“I’m okay with that,” Steven giggled.

By the time they all calmed down, Duff had fallen back to lay on the floor, clutching the watch to his chest as his laughter finally tapered off, “Oh, Izzy, I love- I love it. Thank you,” he was smiling so wide his face hurt, and Izzy’s cheeks were still bright red, but he didn’t care. It was worth it.

“Wait…” Slash suddenly narrowed his eyes, “Hold on a sec…” Scanning the room, his jaw dropped, “Who the fuck got Vince??”

“I DID, BITCHES!” the Motley Crue font man stood dramatically, flipping his hair as he made his revelation.

“What the fuck?” Steven gaped, “Did you draw your own name?”

“You bet your ass I did.”

“Why didn’t you say anything??”

“Because I deserve nice things and who better to treat me to them than me?” he grinned pretentiously, “For this exchange I got myself an entirely new makeup kit and a new scarf, which is way better than-” suddenly, Vince pouted, “Hey!” he cried, clearly offended, “At least go into another room!”

The rest of the boys followed his gaze, quickly groaning when they found Nikki practically in Tommy’s lap as the two kissed passionately. Axl made fake gagging noises, while Mick just took a long, long drink from his Christmas Vodka.

“Alright, I think we all need some drinks,” Axl rolled his eyes as he stood, “You two better cool it before I get back or I'm pouring ice water over your heads.” Nikki flipped him off without even breaking away from the drummer.

As the red-head rushed out of the room, Slash stood abruptly, “I’ll go help!” He quickly hurried into the kitchen behind him.

“I’m definitely down to get fucked up, but I need a smoke first,” Izzy sighed. Hesitating, he offered almost shyly, “You want one, Duff?” He held his box of cigarettes out in offering.

With a small smile, Duff stood to follow him outside, “Yeah, sure.”

As they left, Steven looked between the door that closed behind them, the entryway to the kitchen, and the terror twins still making out on the floor in front of them. Quietly, he reached out to hold hands with both Mick and Vince.

The guitarist narrowed his eyes, and started to pull away, “Don’t-”

“Shhhhhh, Mick,” Vince grinned as he shushed him, sitting down directly on Steven’s lap, “It’s Christmas.”

“…Jesus Christ,” Mick let out a long sigh, glancing upwards for just a moment. But when Steven and Vince shifted over to make room for him, he moved to sit next to them on the couch, allowing Steven to continue holding his hand as they passed the bottle of vodka between them. And as much as Mick might try to deny it, none of them could keep a smile off their faces.

~~~~~~~~~

“So, there’s a second part to my gift.”

Axl jumped slightly when Slash’s spoke behind him. Turning to face him, he felt his cheeks burning again just thinking about the gifts they had given each other, “Oh?”

Slash nodded, tugging on a strand of hair shyly.

After a long pause, Axl tilted his head questioningly, “…So-” But right as he tried to speak, Slash finally gathered his courage and surged forward, wrapping his arms around Axl’s waist and kissing him deeply.

For a moment, the singer felt frozen in shock, but once his brain catches up and he convinces himself that this isn’t some hyperrealistic fever dream, he can’t help but melt into Slash’s arms, kissing back passionately. They’ve both waited so long for this moment that they can’t help but stay pressed together until they’re forced to break for air, both gasping deeply into each other’s mouths.

“…That was actually Steven’s Christmas gift to you.”

“WhAT??”

~~~~~~~~~~~~

The night air outside was brisk, but for two men who were raised outside of California it was pleasant. Duff and Izzy smoked quietly next to each other, standing in the dim glow of the only working light outside of the Hell House. With each drag of his cigarette, Izzy mentally worked himself up to just say something to Duff. Something, anything to even remotely explain his feelings.

But before he got a chance, Duff started rambling.

“Thank you again. For the gift, I mean. I mean the- not that the watch isn’t nice! I love it, honestly, but that joke man, I definitely didn’t see that coming. And I know sometimes my jokes are dumb, so I appreciate you… indulging me, or whatever,” he waved his hand vaguely, ducking his face in embarrassment, “It just, meant a lot to me. Which might seem weird, or dumb, but-”

Izzy interrupted him with a soft, gentle kiss that still managed to steal the breath from his lungs.

Pulling back, Izzy weaved a hand through Duff’s hair, cupping the back of his head lightly, “I love your jokes. And I love your smile, and your laugh, and your bass playing, and your singing, and… I fucking love you.”

“Oh,” Duff breathed quietly, his eyes wide with awe, “Thank God. Cause… I love you too.”

Laughing, Izzy didn’t have any more words to say. He simply pulled Duff down to kiss him softly again and again.

~~~~~~~~~~

Both bands got spectacularly wasted that night. They pooled their money and ordered five pizzas, and passed around bottles of nightrain and whiskey and vodka, and played music as loud as their speakers could go. Axl and Nikki started writing song lyrics on the walls, and Tommy and Steven drummed on every surface available including their bandmates. At first every kiss was met with groaning and gagging, but by the end of the night every kiss got a round of applause and drunken cheers. Steven even managed to steal a kiss from Mick without being punched in the face. Motley Crue ended up spending the night, half the group stumbling towards whatever mattresses were open, while the other half passed out on the floor of the living room.

Looking around at the group of rockers, Steven beamed happily.

“God bless us, every-”

Vince shoved a pillow into his face.

[jeromevaleskaisreallyadorab-blog]

Headlines {J.V}

I slam the newspaper down on the table, startling Oswald. “Do you know anything about this?” i ask, staring into Oswald’s eyes. “Y/N. I know you’re upset about this Ginger freak but-” i hold up my finger, and raise my voice. “It’s taking MY headlines, Penguin. MY headlines. A psychotic, red head who killed his mommy, is stealing MY headlines!” I walk over to him, popping out my hip and resting my hand on my hip. “I understand Y/N. What do you want me to do about it?” I growl, leaning forward. “I want you to do something about it, Penguin!” He looks at the window. “Y/N. It’s not that easy.” I grab the newspaper. “Fine. I’ll do it myself.” I walk towards the fireplace and chuck the newspaper into it. “Jerome Valeska.. you have no idea what’s coming your way.” I chuckle darkly, letting my boots click against Penguins wooden floors, slamming the doors shut behind me. 

I grab my pocket knife and put my black hoodie on. I slide out the back door of my apartment and hurry to the GCPD. I slide in the back and see Edward Nygma. “Shhhhhh. Say anything I’ll slit Miss Kringles throat.” He nods, but smiles. “Why are you smiling?” he just shrugs. “I don’t know. You tell me, Goldie Locks.” I roll my eyes. I slide into the commissioners office. “Hey Commissioner.” She looks up, fear fills her eyes. “Goldie Locks..” She goes to grab a gun but nothings there. I laugh hysterically. “Now now Essen. Still dumb as a all of your employees.” I hear gun shots behind me and a officer walking in. “Well well well. What do we have here?” I then hear a maniacal laughter from behind me to see the one, the only, Jerome Valeska. “Great! Perfect! Everyone ruins my time to kill Essen!” I plop myself down on the chair, sighing. “Go ahead. Kill her.” I mumble, pointing to Essen. “Wait, you’re Goldie Locks. Aren’t you?” I roll my eyes and chuckle.”Yeah, I am. Now are you going to kill her or?” He smirks. “Help me. “ Shockingly, I turn and look at him, removing my hand from my forehead. I stand up, moving my blonde hair out of the way. (You have blonde hair in this, obviously.) “You want ME to help YOU kill Essen?” He nods. “HELL YEAH!” I start laughing hysterically and grab a trophy on her desk, then hitting her in the head with it, knocking her out. “Hmm. Fun.” I drag her body into the huge room and tie her to a chair on the desks. She wakes up and starts to try to escape. I laugh, from behind her. Making her freeze. “Oh Essen. You really ARE dumb.” Jerome comes back onto the desk. “Hell of a first week you’re having, Commissioner.” I chuckle at his sarcasm. Maybe he isn’t so bad, after all. “Why are you doing this?” She asks me, I open my mouth to respond but Jerome answers for me. “To rule the world. Blah, Blah, Blah. But we’ll settle for some dead cops and some good PR. Kidding” He chuckles. “Yeah, Yeah I get it., You’re just crazy.” i laugh. “Oh please bitch, you HAVEN’T seen crazy. But,” i rub my finger on the desks and climb up. “I can show you crazy.” I smile, turning into a hysterical laugh. I turn around. “Oh. I assume you want to make a speech now?” I ask. Jerome just nods, grinning. I smile and hop off walking around to see Miss Kringle kneeling beside Edward. “What the hell happened to you?” I ask Ed. “I got shot in the shoulder obviously.” Miss Kringle freezes. “Y-you’re G-Goldie Lo-Locks.” she stutters. I grin. “Why yes I am. But i promised your boyfriend here i wouldn’t kill you guys.” I smile, placing my hand on the nearby desk. “you’re craz-” i hold up my finger. “You don’t want me to break my promise and kill you, do you?” She shakes her head. “Oh, and Ed isn’t my boyfriend.” She replies. I shrug. “Oh. I figured he was.” I clean up Ed’s shoulder and go back over to Essen. Jerome shoots the fat guy behind him. “My line.” he puts his gun back in his fake officer uniform. He leans into Essen's face, “There’s nothing more contagious than laughter. AHA!” Essen spits in his face. He licks his face, tasting the saliva. “That was strangely pleasant. Do it again.” He leans back in and i hear a crack and see Jerome leaning back, face to the ceiling. Laughing. “Oh you got me, My turn.” He starts laughing. I grab my pocket knife, climbing back up. “Oh please, my honor.,” I chuck the knife at Essen's gut, hearing her scream bloody murder. I laugh and lean down to her, eye level. “Hope you had a AWESOME week being Commissioner. Because you won’t see another day.” I grit my teeth, then grinning like a Cheshire cat. I slowly pull the knife out of her gut, wiping the blood off my knife onto her white blouse. “Damn, you’re bad.” Jerome chuckles behind me. I turn around, “Oh please. I know this. I’m Goldie Locks.” I stand up. “Oh by the way, my real name is Y/F/N Y/L/N. And if you tell ANYONE, ill slit your throat. Okay?” I smile. He laughs. “I like you already.” He hops down off the desks and grabs the camera that fell onto the floor when he shot the fat guy i believe was, Robert Greenwood. “Hello Gotham City! We’re the Maniaxs! And i’m Jerome, the shot caller of our little gang.” I clear my throat. I walk behind him. “And I’m Goldie Locks.” i grin. “And we are here to spread the message of wisdom and hope.” a guy grunts, pushing himself off the floor. I chuck my knife at his head, ending his suffering instantly. “Some people have no manners.” Jerome sighs. ‘You’re all prisoners. What you call, sanity, it’s just a prison in your minds that stops you from seeing that you/re just tiny little cogs, in a giant absurd machine... WAKE UP!” I jump from beside him. “why be a cog? be free like us. Just remember, smile.” Jerome starts playing with a dead cops face, making him smile. I hear police sirens in the distance. “Shit.” i mumble. Jerome says his goodbyes. “Hang onto your hats folks, cause’ you ain’t seen nothing yet!” he laughs and turns the camera off. “C’mon. I don’t think you wanna be sent back to Arkham, because I know i don’t.” I grab his arm and yank him out the back door. “Y’know Goldie Locks, you are amazing.” I sigh and turn around. “What do you want, Valeksa?” he smiles, and holds out his arms. “Wanna be part of the Maniaxs?” I laugh. “As if. Penguin won’t be happy with that.” He moves his head to the side. “Penguin?” I roll my eyes. “My boss, technically but he doesn’t pay me.” he chuckles. “That sounds sucky.” I nod in agreement. “Now, we have to leave, so we don’t get caught.” I chuckle, running down the alleyway, with Jerome following me. 

As soon as I walk into Penguins, he rushes over, seeing the blood on my shirt. “Oh Jesus, Y/N. You didn’t kill him did you?” I roll my eyes. “Long story, but no. I didn’t kill him. In fact, he isn’t that bad.” He looks at me confused. “Now I am off to bed. Goodnight Oswald, Goodnight Butch.” I walk down the hall way to my room, opening the door, then closing it shut, and locking it. I grab some sweats and a towel and go into my bathroom, taking a steaming hot shower. “y/n.. I’m proud of you.” Oswald calls on the outside of my bedroom door. “Thanks.. But i don’t know what for.” I reply. I hear a sigh and a clunking sound against the hallway flooring. He’s walking away. i change into my sweats and put my hair in a bun and lay in my bed staring at the ceiling. I hear a tapping on my balcony door. I grab a baseball bat close by and move the curtain back to see Jerome. I chuckle and drop the bat. i unlock the door and open it letting him in. “Yes, Jerome?” he smiles. “Hi.” I smile. “Why are you here?” He just shrugs. “I missed you, I guess.” wait what? “y-you missed me?” I ask, shocked. He just nods. I smile. “So you came all the way out here, just to see me?” I ask, holding the door open. “yeah.” i chuckle and let him in. We spend the rest of the night watching movies.. horror movies and laughed at the  murder scenes. 

this is honestly HORRIBLE

[tbehartoo]

Summer Days pt 5

Characters: Levy McGarden x Lisanna Strauss (Levanna)- Characters from Fairy Tail by Hiro Mashima

Rating: General? Teen? I don’t know, where do you stand on fluff?

Summary: Modern AU vignettes where Lisanna and Levy spend a summer together for @filiadcorblog

on AO3

*Lockser’s Water World- Local water park, wave pool, lazy river, sunscreen and sunburns

Lisanna looked at the view in front of her, looked at Levy, and then looked back at the view. The sight that greeted her was slightly … sad. Water slides that had been bleached colorless from obviously spending too many years in the sun, a wave pool that boasted six inch waves, a kiddie pool that seemed to be half the size of one that was easily purchased at the local supermarket, and a slow moving moat running around it all were all that she could see.

“Remind me again why we are going to a water park when there is a perfectly good beach just ten minutes away,” she said.

“Lisanna, I promised you an authentic Magnolia experience,” Levy said as she led her toward a bank of lockers. “Which means you get the bad along with the good.” She was looking for a free locker that wasn’t broken. “And when you’re in high school your first summer job is either here or the fast food places, if all the college students have gone home.” She found one that suited her and started putting their bag and towels in it. She pulled out the spray on sunblock and applied another layer offering it to Lisanna as she continued, “And if the college kids haven’t gone home you’re babysitting and doing yard work hoping to have the money to be able to come here to hang out with your friends once in awhile.” She put the sunblock away and pulled out a padlock and key. She checked that the key did indeed open the lock, then secured their items as well as could be hoped and strung the key around her wrist. “And don’t let the look fool you. They might not be the highest slides in the world, but they’re still fun, and the Black Hole gives me chills every time.”

“So you started out as a lifeguard?” Lisanna asked, curious.

“Oh no,” Levy said perfectly seriously, “I started out on the clean up crew and managed to make it to the snack shack by the end of my first summer. I had to get CPR and some other special training before I could do the lifeguard position.”

Lisanna was surprised to hear that, but she hadn’t given pool cops much consideration before. “What was your favorite position to work here?”

“That’s hard to say,” Levy said as she showed Lisanna where to pick up one of the mats needed to slide on the first ride, “because each area has it’s own unique, soul-sucking boredom associated with it. Being lifeguard at the wave pool is just a lot of counting heads over and over again, and an occasional whistle blow to make everyone get out while the pool has to be decontaminated.” Levy shivered at a particularly nasty memory. “The kiddie pool is just a constant repetition of the phrase ‘No running!’ while the little imps continue to dash around the place.” They’d finally reached the end of the line and now had to wait patiently as people moved one space at a time. “Doing refreshments wasn’t too bad, except when the patrons are complaining about slow service or the price of the food. Did you know most people don’t realize that servers don’t actually set the price of the food? And that they aren’t the ones to have instituted the No Outside Food or Drink policy?”

Lisanna giggled. “Really?” she asked in mock surprise, “I am shocked to hear it.”

“Yeah,” Levy said dryly, “you’d think more people would have figured it out.”

“So, you didn’t have anything that you liked to do when you worked here?” Lisanna asked. “That sounds like a lot of bleak summers.”

“No it wasn’t bleak,” Levy hastily said, “but it was work, and sometimes all you can say is that it was work.” She smiled and added, “I think I enjoyed working the slides the best. Especially the ones the littles would go on. When you could see that they were so scared to go on their own, but then they work up their courage, and they scream all the way down you think you’ll never see that one again, but then here they come right back and sometimes it’s the whole scared-courage-scream cycle and other times they have a fire or are ready to take on the bigger slides. That’s really the best.”

Lisanna looked carefully at the line they had been shunted into and noticed that they were at least a foot taller than most of the rest of the line. “Levy, are we in the line for the little kids’ slide?”

Levy smirked mischievously. “You have to start at the bottom and work your way to the top before you’re ready for,” she paused and then dramatically said, “The Black Hole.”

Lisanna laughed but stopped when she heard the child next to them gasp.

“You’re going on the Black Hole?” he asked with widened eyes.

“Uh, yes?” she answered.

“Have you gone on it before?” the girl next to him asked. She looked almost like a smaller clone of the boy, leading Lisanna to think she must be his younger sister.

“Um, no,” Lisanna was wondering about the awe she heard in the little girl’s voice.

“Wow!” the girl said, “You’re so brave.” She turned to the woman who was obviously with them. “Mommy she’s going on the Black Hole!” The girl looked back at Lisanna in admiration. “Isn’t she brave?”

The woman laughed. “Yes she’s very brave,” her eyes twinkled as she looked at the two young women, “but I think she’s probably old enough to- survive the Black Hole.”

Lisanna heard similar statements from everyone at the park. In line for the slides, lounging in the lazy river, or making small talk with the cashier at lunch the infamous slide was spoken of with reverence, awe, and in some cases unabashed dread. The unbridled fear seemed to be catching, especially as they stood in line waiting for their turn to go down the tube of terror.

“Levy, what have you gotten me into?” Lisanna wailed as they neared the top.

“Lissie, I promise you won’t die from going on this ride,” she answered with a wicked grin. “And if your heart stops,” she continued on, “I know exactly where they keep the AED.”

“Somehow, that’s not really comforting,” she eyed the nervous girl in front of them. One more rider and it would be her turn.

“Look Lissie, I’ll go first and meet you at the bottom. Okay?”

Lisanna looked relieved at the small reprieve from her impending doom. “Okay.”

The last sighting she had of Levy was her blue hair disappearing into the murky shadows with a scream torn from her throat.

Levy waited with great anticipation at the bottom of the slide. When Lisanna shot out from the bottom her eyes were squeezed shut and her arms firmly clutched across her chest. It took a moment for her to realize that she had stopped moving. She stood up looking around wildly.

“You!” she pointed a finger at Levy when she finally found her. “You devious,” she started in Levy’s direction, “cunning,” she finally made it out of the pool, “horrible, beguiling she-devil!” She had finally reached where Levy waited, tears running down her cheeks from laughter. “All day you tormented me with this,” she accused waving in the direction of the water slide, and Levy merely nodded. “I’ve been hearing the horror stories from every man, woman,and child in this park!” Again Levy could only nod. “You let me believe that this was going to be the most thrilling, heart stopping, terrifying ride I’ve ever been on!” she stamped her bare foot on the pavement. “All!” she poked Levy’s side, “Day!” she poked her other side as the giggling woman squirmed away from her finger, “Long!” a poke to her midsection. “When really it’s just-”

Levy threw a hand over her mouth, abruptly stopping her tirade, her other arm supporting her back so that she didn’t accidentally push Lisanna over.

“Shhhhhh!” she whispered in her ear. “This is all a part of the fun! Don’t spoil it!” Levy suddenly seemed to realize how close she was holding Lisanna and, recognizing that Lisanna wasn’t going to interrupt, she let her go and stood back. “Sorry about that. I couldn’t let you finish that sentence out loud where everyone could hear you.” She looked around then quietly offered as she leaned back in, “It’s like Fight Club. No one talks about the Black Hole after they’ve been on the Black Hole.”

Understanding bloomed across Lisanna’s face. She was trying to maintain her righteous indignation but it lost to her natural disposition for fun. She let out a little chuckle. “Oh, you got me. You got me good Ms. Levy Aloysius McGarden.”

“Aloysius?” Levy was clearly confused.

“Give me a break it’s the worst name I could think of in the heat of the moment,” Lisanna said with a grin. “Make no mistake, I will be getting you back for this.”

“I have no doubt about that,” Levy said. “So...uh...Do you want to go again?”

“Are you kidding?!” Lisanna scowled and Levy looked worried. “Of course I want to go again! And this time I’m keeping my eyes wide open.”

As they stood in line a nervous voice cut into their conversation.

“Excuse me, but have you gone on this slide before?” the young man, who couldn’t have been more than twelve, asked.

“Yeah,” Lisanna said with a friendly smile.

“How bad was it?” he asked clearly worried.

“Well I know it’s different for everyone,” Lisanna said, “but I hear that they have lifeguards with defibrillators at the bottom just in case your heart stops.”

He moaned and closed his eyes at her words while Lisanna turned back to move forward in line.

Levy put her arm around Lisanna’s shoulder and gave her a hug. “That's my girl. You were perfect,” she whispered into her ear.

They moved forward again. Levy looked closely at Lisanna and put a hand to her face. There was definitely a lot of heat there, and Lisanna had paled, like she might faint soon. Levy began to worry since heat stroke was nothing to take lightly. She declared, “We’d better get in the shade and maybe apply more sunblock after this ride. Your cheeks are starting to turn pink.”

Lisanna knew it wasn’t the sun that was heating her up, but merely nodded in agreement.

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