#but I’m convinced he talks incessantly about Tommy

[foxtrot91]

shovel talk

“So,” Maddie says, eyes squinting as she looks Tommy over, wine glass cradled in one hand while the other rests on her hip. 

They’re in the hallway of Bobby and Athena’s new place, and Tommy doesn’t think it’s a coincidence that she’s catching him in the bathroom hallway just as Tommy’s about to return to the party. Remembering another conversation at another party, he suddenly wishes he was holding a slice of cake; though he gets the feeling Maddie wouldn’t be easily deflected with it, Hen certainly wasn’t. 

“Are you looking for the bathroom?” He asks instead, tossing a glance behind him. “It’s right over there, second on the left.” 

He gives her his best grin; just because he knows this conversation is inevitable doesn’t mean he has to make it easy on her. Her eyebrows raise and Tommy thinks someone so small shouldn’t give him the same feeling as being dressed down by his sergeant once did. He hopes for Chim’s sake that he doesn’t find himself in the doghouse too often. 

“So,” she says again, ignoring his directions to the bathroom. “I was just thinking that we haven’t really had a chance to properly meet.”

“Oh,” Tommy says, still suspicious about where this conversation is going. “I guess we haven’t.”

It’s true, it’s only been a couple months since he and Evan got together and between their differing schedules and the drama going on behind the scenes at the 118, there hadn’t been much time for larger get togethers. For the most part, Tommy and Evan have either spent their time just the two of them or hanging out with Eddie in an effort to keep his mind off of Christopher’s departure. Which, thank god that has since been resolved, for awhile there Eddie had been a bit of a basket case. There had been the wedding, of course, but even a normal wedding doesn’t leave time for the bride and groom to spend much time with individual guests, and there’s had been anything but normal. 

“You know, Buck was really nervous when he told me about you,” she says, eyes glittering as she looks him over before taking a sip of her wine. 

“Coming out to someone you care about will do that to a person,” Tommy says simply, eyebrow raised. 

“Of course,” she says with a soft chuckle before continuing, “it made me realize that he’s never told me about any of his other relationships before.” 

“Oh?”

“I mean, I knew they existed and I knew their names, but he never once talked about them, I barely even knew a thing about Ali. Even Taylor, she was his longest relationship and I barely heard a word about her. Then there’s Natalia who was barely a blip.” She pauses here and takes another sip from her wine before shifting her gaze back to Tommy. “Actually, there was one person I heard a lot about, even if I never got the chance to meet her.” 

“Abby,” Tommy says, figuring with what he knows of Evan’s relationship history that she’s a safe bet. 

“Mmhm,” she hums, nodding in agreement. “But since that first day he told me about you, you’re all he talks about now.” 

Tommy feels warmth bloom in his chest at that admission, the thought of Evan feeling happy and secure enough in their - admittedly young - relationship to talk about it with others leaves him feeling pleased. 

“It kind of reminds me of how he was with Abby, actually,” she continues, “before he’d accepted that she was gone I got to hear all about her, almost felt like I knew her.” There’s a bit of a wistful edge to her voice, though Tommy can tell it’s less about Abby and more about Evan's happiness. “He hasn’t been that way with anyone since, at not least until now. So I guess you could say that as his big sister I thought I'd better check to make sure that he’s not going to wake up one day and find you’ve suddenly discovered a burning desire to – I don’t know, Amelia Earhart your way around the world and leave him behind.” 

Her voice grows firmer on that last bit as she pins Tommy with her gaze, eyebrow raised. Despite the teasing edge still present in her voice, Tommy can tell she’s serious, and truthfully, he can’t say he blames her. Eddie once told him over a shared six-pack that Evan has abandonment issues the size of the moon, and everything he’s learned about his past relationships - both romantic and familial - supports that. If Evan has avoided talking about past girlfriends, Tommy wonders if it had anything to do with a fear that they’d leave him behind too. He wonders what that says about the fact that he apparently talks about Tommy with those closest to him.

“Well, if it makes you feel any better, Amelia Earhart's disappearance is a pretty strong deterrent for that. Also— can’t do Muay Thai in the sky,” he says, unable to resist responding with his own personal brand of humour. Maddie doesn’t respond during the pause he takes to gather his thoughts, her face giving nothing away. “But... the truth is, that I can’t tell you the future, I don’t know what will happen tomorrow, let alone six months from now.” He pauses, suddenly wishing he had his own glass of wine to occupy his hands as he contemplates his next words. “What I can tell you is that I didn’t step into this lightly, and that I care about him a lot.” He takes a moment to let the truth of that sink in before adding, “and for what it’s worth, if you talked to any of my friends, I’m pretty sure they’d tell you the same thing, which is that I talk about Evan so much that they’re probably sick of hearing about him now.” It's true, Sal barely manages to repress the eyeroll whenever Evan's name comes up, and Angela and Jenkins have started a drinking game during Trivia Night based on how often Tommy says his name. It's made them terrible at trivia. 

The beat of silence that passes between he and Maddie isn't exactly uncomfortable, but he does find himself holding his breath a little wondering if he passed. He has the idle thought that she’d be good at poker with how little she’s giving away with her facial expression. But then, a smile stretches over her face, and Tommy finds himself sighing in relief. This was different than his talk with Hen and Karen that had obviously been more teasing in nature. While Maddie may have done a good job in keeping her tone overall light, Tommy’s under no delusions that she wasn’t serious in sizing Tommy up to determine if he was fit to date her brother.

“Good,” she says simply, and then tilts her head slightly towards the kitchen. “I need a top-up, and you seem like you could use a glass, have a drink with me?”

“Absolutely,” Tommy agrees, his own grin stretching across his face.

He follows Maddie into the kitchen where she grabs a second glass for him before pulling out the wine she and Chim brought – a merlot – and pouring him a glass before topping off her own.

“So, you’re a pilot,” she says, a statement, not a question.

“I am.”

“Could be handy having a pilot in the family,” she comments, eyes twinkling, “Chim said you flew Eddie to Vegas.”

It's said nonchalantly, with a hint of expectation but before he can respond, Evan’s rounding the corner, clearly having heard at least part of their conversation. “Oh no,” he groans, “you do not get to commandeer my pilot boyfriend so that you and Chim can have some private date weekend in Vegas.”

“I said no such thing,” Maddie claims, hands raised, shoulders shaking with suppressed laughter.

“But you thought it,” Evan says accusingly.

Tommy watches them, barely suppressing his own laughter as he grabs a potato-chip from a nearby bowl to munch on. He lets them go back and forth, trading verbal jabs in the way all siblings do before he takes his moment to jump in.

“I’d be happy to fly your sister to Vegas,” Tommy says, grinning at Evan’s indignant look and Maddie’s triumphant one.

“Thank you,” she says, voice overly sweet as she pats Tommy on the hand before picking up her glass. She starts towards the door, presumably to rejoin the others, but he doesn’t miss it when she leans in and whispers to Evan, “he’s a keeper,” before smacking a kiss to his cheek as she heads out the door. Evan’s face softens at Maddie’s approval, and Tommy’s does too.

Evan joins him at the table, cheeks pink as he swipes Tommy’s glass to steal a sip.

“You disappeared on me,” he says, looking up at Tommy. “How bad was it? She give you the third degree?”

“It wasn’t bad at all,” Tommy says honestly, “I like that you have people who care.”

“Hm,” is all he says, though Tommy can tell he’s at least a little pleased by it too. “Still, we need to have a talk about how you’re supposed to take my side in arguments with my sister,” he adds, semi-serious.

Laughing, Tommy stands from his seat and comes around the table, offering Evan his hand before pulling him back towards the door. “Evan, the only useful relationship advice my dad ever gave me was to ‘get in good with the family.’” He adds air-quotes and deepens his voice for effect. “Of course, he thought my relationships would look a lot different, but the advice is still solid,” he says, before adding, “besides, I like your sister, and flying Maddie and Chim to Vegas for a weekend would also mean flying you and I there.”

Evan perks up at that, “yeah?”

“Separate hotel rooms, of course,” Tommy adds, letting his smile take on a suggestive edge as they open the door to the balcony.

“Separate hotels,” Evan says, his own lascivious smile spreading across his face.

Whatever their faces are doing as they join the others must make it obvious what they’re both thinking about because the next thing he hears is Chim saying; “Mm, I don’t like that look, too reminiscent of Buck 1.0. Does anyone have a spray bottle? Gotta squirt him like an overgrown tomcat before he gets outta control.”

Tommy lets the subsequent laughter at Evan’s indignant squawk envelop him, somewhere in the background he hears Christopher question what Buck 1.0 means and Eddie insisting he doesn’t want to know. Tommy finds he’s enjoying himself, even if the laughter is at their expense. He wasn’t lying to Evan when he’d told him before that he’d been jealous of the family the 118 had become but for once, Tommy isn’t jealous. He doesn’t need to be, because this time he’s a part of it.

Read on ao3

[sparxwrites]

everyone: i wonder what sparx will write for dsmp? sparx in my dms: drugs drugs drugs

wow this is slander. there's loads of stuff i want to write that doesn't involve drugs: tommy in the nether being sad (after doing drugs), wilbur being a weird taciturn maybe-sociopath (talking about withdrawal), wilbur being sexually weird at quackity (which does not explicitly involve drugs conceptually speaking, but given it's those two, it will). also some other stuff but i'm pretty sure they all include wilbur and/or quackity (bc i love them your honour), both of whom are the Drug Boys so. so.

..........okAY okay that's not very convincing but please consider every fucking person in this series takes drugs or manufactures drugs or talks incessantly about drugs. other than techno, and he is going to have a nice conversation w people at some point about what the fuck is wrong with quackity, and there will be no drugs involved. thank u techno for being my single light in the darkness.

[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.

[thedirtpreferences]

Preference #7 - Surprise (Requested)

Mick: Your thoughts were relentless, hurtful and it didn’t help that Mick hadn’t called you yet tonight. Furthermore, he always called you after the show ended and when he made it back to the hotel. Tonight was the first night in over a year that you hadn’t heard from him. Needless to say, you were sad. Clad in only one of his black button up shirts, you crossed your arms across your chest and rubbed the tops of your arms, closing your eyes as you tried to ground yourself and your thoughts. You knew Mick would never do anything to hurt you, but you couldn’t help but to wonder if maybe just maybe it was actually possible. Your thoughts were quickly interrupted, however, when you heard the jingling of keys at the front door. It was currently one in the morning, and you clearly weren’t expecting any visitors so instantly your mind went to worst case scenario. “Shit,” you hissed under your breath as you jumped up from the couch, picking up the closest item to you that happened to be a lamp resting on a side table. Lifting the lamp over your right shoulder in comparison to a baseball bat, your breath hitched when you heard the keys click and the door open. You had every intention on throwing the lamp when the door opened, but froze when you saw who it was. Mick. Examining your physical state, Mick raised his eyebrows as a smile twitched as his lips. “You’re not going to throw that, are you?” It was then when you dropped the lamp, and launched yourself at your boyfriend with the force of a head on car collision. “Surprise!” He murmured, laughing into your hair as an uncontrollable sob ripped through your chest. “I thought-I thought the tour,” You stuttered incoherently, pulling back to look at Mick who was smiling down at you as if you were the most beautiful thing he had ever seen. “Doc thought that we could afford a few days off, so I got the first plane home.” Wiping your tears away with the pads of his thumb, he shook his head amazed by your reaction. “I’m so happy.” You choked, as Mick wrapped his arm around your lower back, his other lifting your chin to meet his gaze. “Me too, pretty girl. Me too.” It was then where he filled the space between the both of you, and pressed his lips gently against yours, electricity buzzing through your veins at his touch. Even though you had shared over a thousand kisses, this one would feel like the first, excited to finally see eachother again.

-

Tommy: You let out a sad sigh as you watched the clock turn from 4:59AM to 5:00AM. Tommy called you every night. Every. Single. Solitary. Night. On the nights he couldn’t talk, he would even call just to let you know he wasn’t going to be able to talk that night, but that he still wanted you to know that he loved you more than anything. It was the little things in your relationship; it was the small details that made the difference. You believed that was the reason why you were so upset tonight too; you hadn’t even had a single ‘I love you’ since the last phone call the night before. Touring was tough on you, and you were trying not to let it get to you, but it was nearly impossible. Rolling over in bed, you tried to close your eyes and get comfortable, but you just couldn’t seem to; you were far too distracted. Flipping onto your back, you let out a groan and smacked your palms against your eyes, slowly letting your hands fall down your face, dragging your features with it. Was a phone call really that important? Your thoughts were interrupted when suddenly a large rock flew through your window, causing you to gasp. Quickly jumping out of bed, you began to button the top two buttons of Tommy’s flannel that stopped just above your knee. You knew you should call the police, but impulsively you couldn’t help but to run to the window to see what the hell it was. When you reached the window you opened it, despite the huge hole that now appeared, and poked your head out. What you saw was better than you could have ever expected. “Shit,  that was supposed to be romantic! Like, when Romeo threw pebbles at Juliet’s window!” You could not believe your eyes when you saw your boyfriend, standing sheepishly outside your window scratching the back of his neck. “Oh my God, Tommy!” You squealed. Suddenly you were sprinting out of the room, your legs carrying you faster than they ever had before. When you reached the bottom of the stairs, your boyfriend was already there holding his arms out for a hug. Jumping from the last step, you bounded into his arms, wrapping your legs around his waist and locking your arms around his neck. You giggled as he swung you around in circles, finally putting you down to examine you at arms length. “Is that my flannel?” He asked and you blushed, shrugging in response. “That’s okay, babe. It looks better on you,” Pulling you into a kiss, you smiled into it happy your boyfriend was finally home. In addition, it was so not worth getting a call.

-

Nikki: You were convinced it was finally happening; Nikki had finally came to the realization that he could do better. You knew how the tour was; you knew how women threw themselves at the band incessantly no matter what the circumstances were. Temptation was always there and Nikki had finally fell for the bait. Shaking your head in an attempt to shake the thought itself, you raised the wine bottle to your lips, taking another swig out of your almost empty bottle. He always called. Whether it was for an hour, whether it was twenty minutes. In the entire time you had been dating, Nikki always made a point by the end of the night to talk to you and let you know how much he loved you and missed you. Today had been first day where that did not happen; where you had even tried to call him, and you got zero response. You were sad, and maybe even a little angry. Yet, you still couldn’t bring yourself to take off his t-shirt that you always slept in because you couldn’t help but to feel close to him even if he was thousands miles away. Instead of taking the shirt off, however, you decided to drink. Taking the last swig of the red wine you had only bought today, you groaned when you realized you had finished the bottle by yourself. Walking into the kitchen, you grabbed the second one from the counter and began to struggle to open it. “Damn, cork.” you cursed as you struggled to get the top off, frustrated by the effort it was taking. It didn’t help that you were already kind of drunk. “Haven’t you heard you’re never supposed to drink alone?” Your heart stopped when you heard the familiar voice you had been yearning to hear all night come from behind you. Turning around, your heart nearly stopped as you took in your surroundings: Nikki was here. “Haven’t you heard that you should always call your girlfriend no matter what the circumstances are?” You fired back, not being able to fight the smile that tugged at your lips. “As you could see, I was a little busy.” As if gravity itself was pulling your bodies together, you both walked towards each other instinctively filling the empty space between the both of you. When you reached each other, Nikki wounded his arms so tightly around your waist that it nearly took your breath away. Locking your arms around his neck, you smiled when Nikki leaned down and pressed his lips against your own. It was in that moment that you forgot why you had ever been upset or mad; it was in that moment that the only thing that mattered was that Nikki was home and you were wrapped securely in his arms. How had you been so insecure before? Of course he loved you. “Do you think you can forgive me for not calling?” Nikki asked when you broke away, your foreheads resting against each other. “I think you’re off the hook just this once.” You breathed as your lips reconnected once again.

-

Vince: It was a particularly long day and all you wanted was your boyfriend. Yet, here you were. Laying on the couch, completely alone, eating chinese takeout. Your hair was thrown into a messy bun, your dress socks were still on from the work day, and you were wearing one of Vince’s tank tops; you looked a complete mess. Even though you were completely relaxed now that you were home and not at work, you couldn’t help but to feel like a large part of you was missing and that part of you was Vince. Tour took a toll on you. Furthermore, it was often responsible for manifesting chaos and self doubt in your head. While he was there, all you could think about were the countless number of women who throw themselves at him despite knowing that he was in a relationship with you. You knew Vince was loyal to you, but you couldn’t help but to fear that one day he might just get tired of being lonely himself on tour and decide to take one of those lucky women up on their offer. That thought alone was enough to keep you up until the wee hours of the night. Closing your eyes and shaking your head, you took another bite of your lo mein cringing when the sauce dripped down the front of your shirt. At least with Vince being gone, you had zero excuse to look good for anyone. That’s what you thought until you heard a knock emerge from the door. “Shit,” you grumbled, pausing the tv to stand up from the couch. Walking to the door, you passed a mirror and laughed slightly at your physical exterior hoping that it was nobody important. When you reached the door, you opened it only a smidge, poking your head out from the corner. You weren’t expecting your heart to drop to your stomach, however, when you came face to face with your boyfriend. “I was going to surprise you, but I think I lost my house key on tour.” His smirk made your heart sputter as you choked on the air in complete shock. “I-I can’t believe you’re here!” You crashed into his body, forgetting the fact that you were in your underwear as you stepped out onto the front porch without a care in the world. You smiled when Vince lifted you in the air and spun you around in a half circle, whispering how much he missed you in your ear. You couldn’t believe this was real life. “As proud as I am to show you off, let's get you back inside.” Vince laughed, leaning down to peck your lips as you both stepped back inside. Once the door closed, you reached up to kiss him, frowning when he stopped you putting his index finger on your lips. “I just want to look at you for a second.” Vince marveled, holding you at arm's lengths as his eyes glazed over you carefully. You were embarrassed at the way he was staring at you, for you knew you looked a complete mess. Little did you know, that Vince was completely amazed by how effortlessly beautiful his girlfriend looked without even trying. “I’m so lucky.” He smiled, finally leaning down to kiss you. You both were ecstatic to be with one another again. 

[soft-stxrlight]

Uncle Tommy | Tom Holland x Reader

request: Aye if you're looking for something to write about, a super cute imagine where tom and the reader go to visit the readers brother or sister whose just had a baby, and tom gets referred to as "uncle tommy" and it's just super fluff

a/n + warnings: s u p e r  fluff

word count: 1118

------------------------

The car lurched forward as you smacked your boyfriend’s arm. “Thomas Stanley Holland! Pay attention to the road, the light turned green like 5 seconds ago!” Red blossomed on his full cheeks as they spread into a sheepish smile.

“Can’t blame me for getting distracted by your blinding beauty.” He puts heavy emphasis on the word ‘blinding’ and you huff at his sarcasm, but you knew that he wasn’t lying; he’d been staring at you. After 3 years Tom still looked at you the same way he did the very first day when Harrison forced him to talk to you in the pub.

“I’m so excited to see Jacob! Little baby Xavier is the cutest.” You were buzzing with excitement, you hadn’t seen your brother in 2 months (which was long for you) and his new baby was born yesterday. Plus, their 4 year old, Maya, was the sweetest little muffin on the planet.

“I know! I want to squeeze his little cheeks and bite him.” Tom laughed while clacking his teeth together audibly. His fondness of children made your heart surge with warmth. Of course this brought you to the thought of him with your future children, his love and light and kindness would make him an incredible father... and husband.

“Ohhhh we’re here!” You squeaked, dismissing the hopes for the future, as the familiar cul-de-sac came into view. Tall Georgian Colonial homes towered around you, reminding you that your brother was a successful lawyer (he was a real adult, weird).

“Alright love, let’s go.” Tom puts the car in park in front of your brother’s brick and slightly ivy-covered home.

“Let’s go indeed.” You beamed at him and waited as he hopped out and looped around the car to open your door for you. You had learned that Tom would insist upon doing that every time and it was easier to let him than deal with the pout he’d have if you didn’t.

“Thank you, kind sir.” You curtsied and batted your eyelashes at him, to which he chuckled and threw an arm around your waist and swept you into a leaning kiss. With his silken lips pressed lightly against yours, you nearly forgot that your plans for the day.

When he pulled away you were thrust out of your reverie, “Let’s go see Jacob!” You gripped his hand and hauled him towards the door.

When you made it, you knocked incessantly until the door swung open and your brother’s strong arms squeezed you tightly, ending the reunion hug with a noogie. “We are not 11 anymore, you can’t noogie me!” You brother smirked and messed up your hair again.

“I can noogie you for as long as I want to, I’m the older brother remember?” You  give him an eye roll of epic proportions as he turns to your male counterpart, “Hey Tommy-boy, it’s good to see you again bro.” They bro-hug, cueing another eye roll.

“AUNTIE Y/N” You hear your niece coming around the corner and then feel her slam into your knees, causing you to rock a little bit. After squeezing your legs to the point of blood loss she turns to Tom and squeals again, “UNCLE TOMMY” But when she runs to him he lifts her into the air and spins her around while she shrieks in happiness.

You could only marvel at Tom as you watched the twinkle in his eye as he talked to Maya in that way of his, like he was on her level, he was the only one who always knew what she was saying.

Tom lifted his head over her shoulder and gave you a gut-wrenching smile. One little curl fell over his golden eyes and he shook his head trying to dismiss it. It was one of those little moments that seem so insignificant but that you find yourself realizing you’re falling even deeper in love than ever before.

The day was awesome, your brother and his wife, Aliyah, were so sweet. Maya kept trying to convince Xavier to speak to her, she’d just seen the movie Baby Geniuses. And Tom encouraged the behavior by doing the same.

You sighed and leaned back into the plump couch cushions. “You okay darling?” Tom questioned, entering the room and gently sitting next to you and pulling you into his warm torso.

“Yes, just thinking.” You mused back to him, snuggling deeper into his chest and getting lost in his scent.

“Me too. Seeing the little ones makes me think of our kids.” Tom whispered in your hair, before placing a tender kiss on your temple. You smiled, happy, and then shot straight up, bumping heads, realizing what he’d said.

“Sorry,” You mumbled, rubbing your aching skull. “Did you just say “our kids”?” You looked at him expectantly and realized that your eyes were suddenly wet.

“Yes, um I’m sorry if that makes you upset. I just, we’ve been together three years and-” Tears were spilling over now and Tom looked both concerned and frightened that he’d done something wrong.

“Tom-” You choked on a sob, “I was thinking the same thing. And it sounds stupid but-- I was afraid that- well- I don’t know, we aren’t ready for marriage yet and-”

Tom reached a hand to your cheek and swept it over your tears, then he took his thumb on your chin and lifted your face to his, only inches away. “I want a life with you, and you only, I love you more than anything Y/N. You see that right?” He was afraid too, afraid that you didn’t feel his love, that he wasn’t showing you enough.

“I do, Tom, I do. You are just so- unreal. I am surprised by your kindness and wonderfulness everyday.” You gingerly laid a hand on his chest.

“Don’t you get it? It’s you. It’s always been you. You are like no other and you surprise me everyday. I love you.” His eyes were staring intently into yours, like they had just realized something life-changing, earth-shattering. And as they passed sporadically between each of your eyes it was as though he was trying to make you feel what he meant, and you did.

Nodding wordlessly, you leaned into his lips. You moved together and he pulled you close to him, one hand on your lower back pressing you against him, and the other at the nape of your neck.

You had never kissed like this, it wasn’t hungry, it wasn’t needy. It was steady and infinite, an epiphany.

You felt so safe and at home, and at some point you just drifted into sleep. You had dreams of chatty curly-haired cherubs laughing and playing with you and Tom.

(tags below the cut)

@littlemisscaptainfandom @fanficsandcoffee @tomllholland @sameoldmistak-es

[puns-and-fics-has-moved]

Could you write 338 with jamilton please? I ❤️ your writing btw

thank you!! here you go!

Word Count: 913 (yikes sorry)

Warnings: swearing (as always)

From: Hercules (hercules.mulligan@mail.ucolumbia.com)

To: Alexander (a.hamilton@mail.ucolumbia.com)

Dude, seriously. You claim youhate him, but you obviously like him. Get over yourself and ask him out.

From:  Alexander (a.hamilton@mail.ucolumbia.com)

To: Hercules (hercules.mulligan@mail.ucolumbia.com)

I DO HATE HIM

 From: Hercules (hercules.mulligan@mail.ucolumbia.com)

To: Alexander (a.hamilton@mail.ucolumbia.com)

Okay, sure.

From:  Alexander (a.hamilton@mail.ucolumbia.com)

To: Hercules (hercules.mulligan@mail.ucolumbia.com)

….Okay, let’s just sayhypothetically I liked him. How would I ask him out? If I liked him, I mean.Which I don’t.

Shut the fuck up, I knowyou’re laughing. Also, you shut up too, Laf. 

From: Hercules (hercules.mulligan@mail.ucolumbia.com)

To: Alexander (a.hamilton@mail.ucolumbia.com)

Just ASK HIM. He’ll say yes,he likes you too.

also ps hello this islafayette you are a catch alexander he will say yes i know this

Alex couldn’t help chuckling to himself as he read the laste-mail. He was all alone in his dorm room, but his cheeks were flushed brightred. It was true, he always complained about Jefferson, but he’d actually justhad a huge crush on him since day one of their political philosophy classtogether. They were in the same tutorial, and, while they fought incessantlyabout the course material, Alex couldn’t help but be drawn to the guy. He waspassionate about politics, and he was also devastatingly attractive.

Alexander’s e-mail account pinged again, and he saw thattheir political philosophy tutorial had updated the materials to bring to classthe next day. He ignored it, his mind on Jefferson, and decided to reply toHercules.

From:  Alexander (a.hamilton@mail.ucolumbia.com)

To: PHL142 – Tutorial D3 (charles.lee@mail.ucolumbia.com,john.laurens@mail.ucolumbia.com,   thomas.jefferson@mail.ucolumbia.com,[21 others]…)

Oh, ASK him? So, like,“JEFFERSON I LOVE YOU GO OUT WITH ME?” or like, “You free later?”… ooh, how about “Netflix and chill, Tommy?”

Also P.S. Laf, learn how tocapitalize and USE PUNCTUATION for God’s sake…

Oh, and P.P.S. Herc, fix yourfucking phone so we don’t have to e-mail anymore. I feel like a grandpa. 

Alex hit send on the e-mail without proofreading. Momentslater, he got a call from one of his best friends, John.

“What’s up?” Alex answered casually.

“Um. Why did everyone in our political philosophytutorial get an e-mail of you professing your love for Thomas?” John askedimmediately.

Alex’s insides went cold. “I sent that to Herc.”

“No, you didn’t,” John said. “Clearly youfelt so much like a grandpa you forgot how to work e-mail.”

“B-but, I hit reply on Herc’s e-mail, didn’t I?”He checked. He had clicked reply to most recent.

“Oh shit, oh shit, oh SHIT!” Alex cried, his faceturning bright red.

“It could be worse,” John said awkwardly.

Alex groaned and hung up the phone. Trying not to thinkabout it, he crawled into bed and hid under the covers.

The next day he debated whether or not to show up to thetutorial. There was nothing he would like to do less, but he figured he shouldat least try and face the problem head-on. He could let everyone know that itwas just a mistake, and manage to convince them that the thing about Thomas wasa joke.

Even with this plan in mind, he dragged his feet as hewalked to tutorial, feeling nervous and embarrassed. As soon as he walked in,all eyes were on him. John gave him a pitying glance.

“Hey,” Alex said awkwardly. “So, I guess Ishould learn how to work e-mail.”

A few people laughed, relaxing at his acknowledgement of theelephant in the room.

“How stupid do you have to be to send an e-mail to twenty-fiveof the wrong people?” Charles Lee laughed. “Including the guyyou’re talking about!”

Alex flipped Charles off and took a seat next to John. Theirtutorial leader entered and started taking attendance. As always, Thomas walkedin late, but he didn’t have his usual confident air about him. Alexander sunklower into his seat, trying not to make eye contact.

The tutorial dragged on forever, Alexander and Thomas, foronce, not making any comments. Since they normally drove the discussion, theirpoor TA was struggling to make the rest of the students speak up. Eventually,the class ended, and Thomas walked up to Alex.

“Can we talk?” He asked.

Alexander’s face coloured and he nodded. As everyone filedout, the two of them were left alone.

“Alex -” Thomas began, but he was cut off by atorrent of apologies.

“Look, Jefferson, that e-mail was a joke. I didn’t meanit, it was something that Herc was teasing me about. I’m sorry if that made youfeel weird, it was totally a mistake, and I should have fucking checked whoI was sending it to, and I’m really sorry if I embarrassed you, and I know you’retotally gonna hate me, so please, just yell at me or whatever-”

“Will you just shut up for a moment so I can saysomething nice to you!” Thomas interjected, and Alex clammed up,blushing even more.

“What do you mean?” Alex asked.

“I wouldn’t say I love you, but I will go out with you,I am free later, I will not Netflix and chill, and don’t call meTommy,” Jefferson said, smiling shyly, an expression Alexander had not yetseen on his face.

Alexander’s face was beet red. “O-okay,” hestammered. Thomas placed a kiss on his cheek and turned, waving as he left.

“I’ll text you!” Alex called after him lamely.

After a second of silence, Alexander heard Thomas’ reply;“Why not e-mail?”