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xxisxxisxxis · 2 years

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Gateway Drug: Volume II | Part One

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Warning(s): explicit language

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3 MONTHS LATER

"I'll be home for Christmas, you can count on me…" It filters through the pocket radio perched on my bathroom vanity as I finish off my lipstick, taking one last look at my curled hair in the mirror, my stomach turning as I let out a breath, clearing my throat and practicing my smile a couple times, dreading leaving the comfort of my bathroom.

"You're such a dork, Viv, why're you so nervous?" I snap at myself in a whisper, trying to catch my breath that runs further and further from me the longer I think about my husband waiting in the living room.

"Viv?" Mandy's voice calls from the other side of the door and I'm trying to snap out of it.

"Yeah?"

"You're ten minutes behind schedule." She politely reminds me like I had asked her to when I started getting ready.

"I'm coming." I tell her, turning off the radio and inhaling deeply, breathing it out and opening the door, meeting the step-mother of my baby boy. "Are you sure you guys will be alright staying so late? I really don't want to be a bother – "

" – Vivian, me and Duff have the baby. You go have some fun and relax." She assures me, and I hear Duff laughing in the living room, no doubt amused by our son.

"Okay." I say, swallowing the lump in my throat before pulling my heels on as she slips out of my room.

I follow once my shoes are on, stepping through the masses of Christmas decorations before walking past the kitchen, getting to the living room.

A Charlie Brown Christmas is on the T.V., and Duff's on the cream colored carpet with the baby in a t-shirt and boxers, blowing against the bottom of his little foot, getting him to kick and squeal as a big toothless smile comes to his face.

I watch the exchange, my heart further tugging at the idea of leaving him, but glancing at Nikki to see his attention has been pulled from his step-son and redirected onto me, his amused laughter halting as hungry eyes lick up from my feet to my hair, causing heat to rise up in my face.

I'm walking over to Duff, Mandy, and Monroe, his green eyes shifting to me, and he's smiling wider.

"Hey, handsome!" I pipe, Duff picking him up and handing me to him. "Ohh, my big man." I add, kissing at his cheek when I forget I'm wearing lipstick. "Oops, sorry," I chuckle, wiping at his cheek, smearing it. "Okay, bottles are in the fridge, they're ready to go just warm them up. Tommy fed him before you guys got here so don't give him his next one for another hour. He's still doing the thing when you lay him down at night where he cries for no reason. Remember how the doctor said just let him cry it out."

"Viv, I know, you've told me this a hundred times." Duff assures me, and I have to remind myself he's been soaking everything I’ve told him about our child like a sponge, and he's aware of the same things I am at this point.

"Right." I breathe out. "We should be back by midnight." I add, looking down at my ex-boyfriend who's got his happy eyes glued to our son.

"You can stay gone all night, we don't care." He says, and I know he means it, enjoying the time he's had to see his kid.

It just happened that Duff would have one day home after the birth of Monroe before he and the rest of Guns ‘N Roses were being swept away on tour with Aerosmith. It was a month-long spree, and then they toured with Alice Cooper, then Iron Maiden followed after that. By the time Duff got home, our newborn sprouted into his twin with a head full of brown hair, and was dressed in Christmas-themed onesies marked 3-6 months.

I think he freaked out when he realized how much he had missed in the few short months. Of course he would call, send letters, and when they returned he’d have a plethora of baby clothes/toys.

It helped me out that his family wanted to be as involved as they could be, two of his sisters coming to stay a couple weeks after he was born, his mother as well. Even Matt, who I had possibly dreaded seeing the most being that he was well aware that we had been fooling around long before anyone else knew — and had even warned Duff of this kinda thing at some point, I’m sure — was ecstatic to be with his nephew.

I expected some petty, catiness from Mandy, but there was none to be found. She was all for practically moving in to my house with me while Duff went on tour with the guys, and we didn't have anymore qualms. Like I stated before, she was really good to my son, and that's all that I cared about by that point.

Tommy also stayed an exuberant amount of time (An entire month straight with no interruptions), and by day 21 I asked, “Does Heather not mind you not being at home even though you’re in the same city?” To which he responded, “she’s working, anyway, she’s cool with it.”

I didn't realize how awesome he was with kids. It made sense since he himself was like a giant child, but he loved every moment of time with the new little man in my life – even when he would get shit on or covered in throwup.

Sharise helped me out, majorly, recommending brands she had used and tried with Skylar that worked the best for her.

It wasn't a hard adjustment for me, I was used to not getting much sleep at night and cleaning up puke, and once Monroe got to be a toddler and went through a phase of not wanting to keep his clothes on, I realized just how much Motley Crue had prepared me for motherhood.

As for Nikki and I, he and the boys had started writing for Dr. Feelgood, and we had decided that once I had gone through the eight weeks of healing – thanks to Monroe, for not wanting to just do what he was supposed to and forcing me to go through the fever dream that is caesarean delivery – every Saturday night was dedicated to a date night between the two of us. I thought it was a good plan and a great way to try to get back to how we were before had gotten married.

Except I completely forgot we were also screwing like rabbits before we got married, so our dates back then would always end happily and satisfied, whereas once we started dating again, he was so nervous he was scared to even touch my hand while I was used to him taking the lead and making all the first moves. So, whatever awkward dates I avoided in my teenage years had caught up with me in my mid-twenties through my own husband.

"Did you have a good day?" He asks me once we get into his car – the blacked out Mercedes I had told him not to get last year and he had gotten it anyway as a reward for sticking it out in rehab for the majority of the time he was supposed to.

"Yeah."

It's been decent, to say the least.

"I was gonna try to go down to my studio and see what all needed to be repaired and then go look at cars but Tommy absolutely forbade me." I add, looking at him. "He said I don't get to leave him since we haven't gotten to hangout much. So I didn't argue or tell him we'd've had more time to hangout over the years if he wouldn't have been so freaking insufferable from being loaded and lying to me all the time."

Nikki doesn't say anything, and I'm not sure if it's because he just doesn't have anything to say, or if he's trying not to get into all that.

I decide it's the latter, and offer up a, "sorry," still working on the skill of letting shit go – which believe it or not has become easier to do since I've had a kid.

As if everything that I saw as monumental before was just background noise compared to motherhood, now.

"So…" I start as we start down the street to get out of the neighborhood. "...Where are we going?"

"It's an early surprise for my birthday." He explains to me and I furrow my brows, looking at him.

"You're surprising me for your birthday that isn't for another, what, almost two weeks?" I ask him, and he licks his lips, nodding.

"Yeah."

"Sixx, if you bought me a car or a house or anything at all, other than dinner, I'm going to kick your ass." I promise, raising my brows.

"I don't have the money to do all of that right now." He chuckles as we head to town. "The only car you're getting from me is in your driveway." He adds, referring to my Corvette.

I've been hard at work looking for a new car that I can legally ride Monroe around in, having to use either Duff's or Mandy's car for the time being, though Nikki offered his Jeep up but I'm not comfortable driving it with Monroe in tow.

It doesn't feel sturdy enough to face a potential car accident.

He starts up again, and I look over at him, his straight hair that's just past his shoulders, now, so vividly black that I know he's dyed it recently, his skin has maintained it's healthy glow since sobriety, no longer a yuckish yellow hue to it or unnecessary claminess to accompany the track marks.

It's a little shocking how vastly different he looks now compared to a year ago, down to the way he offers me a warm smile when he looks at me now instead of a cold snarl followed by a slew of curses and topped off with addressing me as, "crazy bitch."

Though I'm not too prideful to admit I wasn't exactly a ray of sunshine either, at that time.

I'd provoke him for the hell of it sometimes, so those "crazy bitch"s I'd get were deserved…sometimes.

"...But after this album and this new tour, I'm buying you anything you want."

"Oh, yeah?"

"Yeah." He nods, smacking his gum.

"You know I don't care about that stuff, Nikki." I mumble, looking at my lap for a moment before pushing a strand of red hair behind my ear, and he looks at me for a second.

"I know that, Viv, but I do." He shrugs.

"I'm well aware." I scoff, rubbing my lips together. "Just, don't buy me a bunch of shit I don't ask for again and then call me ungrateful anytime we get into a fight."

"I'm not gonna do that, anymore, alright? But that doesn't mean I'm not gonna buy you nice things, either." He counters. "I wanna spoil you." He adds, smirking, "Starting with a nice dinner."

"How nice?" I nearly dread asking it, beginning to feel underdressed suddenly, despite the fact that I know I'm not.

All he does is look at me with a sly grin, one that made me question ripping his head off – and his clothes – simultaneously.

As suspected, his dinner was a trap.

We arrived at the posh restaurant only to be met by Gene Simmons and his girlfriend – Shannon.

I'd never been more tempted to try to impossibly shotgun a bottle of wine in my life than that night.

I take a prolonged drink of water, trying to listen as Mr. Simmons – who I refuse to call "Gene" to his face thanks to him practically undressing me with his eyes upon seeing me, exuberantly extending his hand and offering a cocky, "Call me Gene," before kissing the top of my hand – continues to hammer on about anything and everything me, Nikki, and his beautiful girlfriend will listen to.

Even Shannon, blonde hair falling over her shoulders, straightened, as wisps of a bangs framing her face, can't help but eventually roll her blue eyes and politely interrupt, "Genie, maybe let someone else speak."

She talks to him as if trying to coax a toddler to eat vegetables, though I learned long ago that it's the only way most people can get him to do anything he doesn't want to do.

"Okay, baby, okay," He sighs out in an almost condescending tone that Shannon brushes off before looking at me.

"How's your baby boy?" She asks innocently, despite the fact that the question has me nearly choking on my water for a moment while Nikki awkwardly fumbles with his rings.

"He's great." I answer her.

"How old is he, now?" She asks next.

"Um, he just turned three months last week." I reply, and Gene leans back in his chair before bluntly asking:

"Does he look like the blonde kid?"

I know he's referring to Duff, my nails biting into my palms as I try to remember what I've been telling myself for the last three months.

People are going to ask questions. Talk about it like it's not a weird situation, and it won't be a weird situation.

"He does, actually." I nod, and he looks at Nikki.

"I bet you're thrilled about that." He tries to sound like he's joking, but I know he's not as sarcastically throws it out to my husband, to which Nikki scoffs it off and says, "It is what it is, man."

"At this point, I'm sure everyone's just grateful that he's a healthy baby." Shannon eases the tension before it even really arises.

"Exactly." Nikki agrees, glancing at Gene.

"Well, I commend you for what you're doing. I wouldn't be able to try to make it work if I were you." He adds, raising his thick, black brows.

"You wouldn't be able to pull Vivian in the first place for you to be me." Nikki passive aggressively counters, his jaw clenching and unclenching despite his smile on his face as Shannon and I look at one another for a moment as if we're expecting to dodge from the table and let them duke it out – well, kind of. Gene doesn't seem like the type.

"Haha." Gene laughs it off with the same passiveness.

"I heard you on Howard Stern." Shannon starts next, and I feel the color drain from my face.

"Oh, yeah?"

"You two held it together really good – he was invasive. It would've given me the creeps if I had to be there." She says.

Shortly after I had Monroe and Appetite for Destruction flew off the charts and the band started blowing up big-time, Howard Stern wanted to sit down and talk with me and Duff about our unique predicament and Duff's forthcoming fame. It was just as weird as I had feared it would've been, and because of it I failed to mention even doing it to Tommy, Vince, Mick, and especially…

"Howard Stern? You were on Howard Stern?" Nikki asks as he looks at me with furrowed brows.

"This morning." I nod, licking my lips. "Duff and I went."

"For what?"

"To talk about the stuff that's happened, and Duff talked about Guns 'N Roses, and the album, and the tour, and stuff." I try to emphasize Duff's involvement and brush over the fact that I essentially got an interview with Howard Stern just for screwing my husband's friend and getting knocked up.

My sugar-coating doesn't work, however, Nikki's eyes staying on me while I drink more water to fill the gap of silence as Shannon looks as if she's in trouble for mentioning it while Mr. Simmons leans on his elbow, hand covering his mouth, hiding a smirk while he glances between the two of us.

I know we'll get into it on the way home tonight by the way he clears his throat, patting himself down before stating, "I forgot my wallet in the car, I'll be back in a second."

He offers a fake smile, patting my shoulder as he stands up and Shannon lets out a breath and smiles at me awkwardly.

"I'm gonna powder my nose." It's as if she's clawing to escape the quiet that has now engulfed our table, leaving me and her boyfriend alone so she can go to the bathroom, only for him to stare at me freely now, out from under the supervision of our significant others.

I stir my water with my straw, looking around for Nikki to come back as if he can walk at super-human speed.

I'd rather be arguing with him in the parking lot than sitting across from the man who's slept with over 2,000 women and allegedly has kept photo albums to document each conquest.

"Is that your natural hair color?" He asks me and I look at him.

"Yep…is that yours?" I nod to his jet black hair and he slowly cracks a smile.

"Yeah, it sure is." He states. "All the hair on my body is naturally colored, too." He adds. "And yours?"

"I don't like body hair." I say flatly, feeling I know where he's trying to go with this, his brows shooting up.

"Woah, they didn't say anything about that in Hustler." He retorts.

"It was Playboy." I correct him as he picks up his water glass.

"Porn is porn." He finishes off his drink, the bottom of it hitting the table as he puts it down. "And I personally think you should do more of it."

I get the same unsettled feeling I had in my stomach when Sparkie started to hit on me in a very abrupt and creepy way.

My face must be red because he furrows his brows, next, and says, "What? There's nothing to be embarrassed about. They were beautiful pictures." He adds. "Shannon's done Playboy before…"

"...Yeah." I try to sound as disinterested as I can, looking around for his girlfriend or Nikki.

"Maybe you two can do one together." He says next, smirking at the thought. "Or with me, for my own collection, of course." He offers smoothly, my throat drying up as well as other anatomical body parts, and I'm being snapped from my sudden need to throw up as Shannon comes back with a smile, plopping down in the chair, letting out a breath before kissing Gene's cheek.

Of course he glows under her affection, as if viewing it as worship, before he gives me one last glance while I wait for Nikki to return.

I never considered myself a prude, not really – especially not with flirting. I didn't mind when guys I was friends with laid on the pickup lines and heavy compliments, mostly because I knew that they knew nothing would've ever happened between us so it was more so a show of affection.

There was a distinct line between Robbin, Vince, or Stevie hitting on me, and then guys that were borderline giving the impression that they were entitled to me because they found me attractive.

And Gene had left me with the impression of being one of those guys.

The drive back to my house after dinner is awkwardly quiet, reminiscent of our trip home from Duff's wedding, though this time it's not Nikki's fear of me still being in love with Duff that keeps him so quiet, it's the fact I kept a decently big thing from him, again, and he's trying to bite his tongue to keep from getting into it with me.

I let out a breath and look at him, the silhouette of his toned bicep extending down his forearm to his wrist, connected to the single hand holding at the wheel of the car.

I’m wrestling myself not to reach over and run my hand along the warm skin of his arm and press kisses along his jaw while whispering how sorry I am for not telling him about the Howard Stern thing.

A couple years ago I wouldn’t have thought twice about it, it was an easy way to get out of an argument that we both utilized.

Trying to figure out what to say to him to start the inevitable conversation, I have to put an end to where my touch-starved train of thought is headed, knowing that we can’t solve our problems with sex anymore.

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you about the Howard thing.” I admit softly, hoping the tone of my voice is enough to melt some of his anger, being that a blowjob would be inappropriate right now. “I just didn’t want you to listen to it because I thought he’d be weird and creepy — and he was — but it was already a risk with Duff there, too, but he’s got a decent grip on his temper and takes stuff on the chin more than you do.” I explain.

He lets out a heavy huff of breath, not saying anything, his jaw tensing for a moment before relaxing, his hand adjusting on the wheel.

I have to pull my eyes away from him and look out the window, thinking of Gene to hopefully calm the ache that’s starting to grow the longer I’m sitting in close proximity to my husband.

It helps substantially, but it’s shot to hell when Nikki’s right hand falls to my thigh, his fingers having a stern hold to the flesh under them and my breath nearly hitches in my throat.

I want those fingers digging into my hips or wrapping tightly around my throat as he watches tears fall from my eyes from pleasure while he punishes me the way I know he wants to, despite the fact that we agreed to “wait” until marriage — more so our vow renewal on our anniversary in seven months.

Ever since that agreement, he hasn’t so much as given me a kiss on the cheek Goodnight.

“I’ll get over it.” He finally mumbles, ending the conversation there.

I figure it’s better for him to say that than start tearing into me the way he would’ve a year ago.

Once we get back to my house, he’s getting out of the car and opening the door for me, helping me out, before we head to the front door.

“Let’s never do that again.” I say, not wanting to go for the “that was fun” bullshit because it wasn’t.

“Yeah, Gene’s…” he trails off, trying to find the word to describe him.

“He made me uncomfortable, Nikki.” I say next.

“Same here.” He agrees.

“No, Nikki, he made me uncomfortable.” I repeat, blinking.

"What, he didn't say anything when I left, did he?" He questions, and I rub my lips together, my silence answering for itself. “You know, I wouldn’t have agreed to go out with him had I known you’d already had your fucking fill of creeps to last the rest of the month,Vivian, I’m sorry you got it back to back.” He says next, and I cross my arms.

“What the hell are you doing being friends with him anyway, Nikki? He's a dickhead."

"Because he called and I'm trying to do more than sit in the house and work on an album. I need to be more social – and you do, too – and I figured it couldn't hurt anything for us to be social together." He says as if this is an argument.

"I'm social." I snap back, furrowing my brows, and he acts as if he's trying not to laugh as he shoots back, "That's the biggest load of bullshit."

"Why the hell do you have to turn everything into an argument?!" I ask sharply.

"I'm just saying we needed to go out and be social with other people and you're flipping your shit."

"I am not flipping my shit." I reach for my house key in my purse, unlocking the door.

"Vivi – "

" – I can flip my shit if you want me to since you've clearly forgotten what that looks like." I say it as I open the door, only for him to pull it closed once more, grabbing at my hip to turn me to face him, gently shoving me against the door to trap me, his left hand flat against the door above my head, his right hand pointing in my face as he looks down at me and states, "I know what you're doing, and it's not gonna work," while he's trying to hide a smirk.

"What am I doing?" I ask, looking at his finger for a moment, resisting the urge to pull it into my mouth.

Perhaps on a subconscious level our bickering has been rewarded by the other person so many times in the past – ending in mind blowing orgasms – that it's something we (should I say 'me') fall into easily.

"We agreed not to do anything until June." He tells me.

"You won't even give me a goodnight kiss, though." I say, raising my brows.

"Because that always leads to more stuff."

"No, it doesn't."

"Viv."

I hate to admit that perhaps this is another time that he's better at this whole 'repairing our relationship' thing than I am.

"Just one. A little one." I look up at him, trying to give my best puppy dog eyes, and he licks his lips.

"No tongue." He adds.

"No tongue." I agree, rubbing my lips together as my eyes dart from his eyes to his lips.

"A little one." He repeats, getting a little closer to me.

"Barely noticeable." I reply, my breath hitching as he relents, leaning down fully to catch my lips with his, except the door swings open in full to reveal Mandy, immediately causing the both of us to dart from one another, clearing our throats awkwardly.

"Monroe woke up from the bickering." She tells us.

I can believe her words because the window facing the street, only a few feet from our door, is the same window his crib is beside.

"Sorry." I whisper, but she doesn't make a move to look at me, keeping her eyes on Nikki with a raised brow as if he's solely to blame as the baby whines behind her from the living room.

Duff must be rubbing off on her because she's no longer a fan of my husband, either.

"Sorry." Nikki doesn't bother trying to whisper because the damage is already done, though he does look at Mandy the same way she's looking at him, and I have to clear my throat again and say, "Well…", to get them to cut it out.

"I got it from here." I say to her and she steps aside so I can get into the house. "Goodnight." I look over my shoulder at Nikki.

"Goodnight. See ya later." He grins at me.

Mandy's looking between us and rolling her eyes.

"C'mon," She nudges me inside, shutting the door in Nikki's face.

I don't think Mandy was going out of her way to be a bitch – I think she just didn't like Nikki much. Shortly after I had Monroe, she had tried to set me up with a friend of hers, another musician in the punk scene, but I told her I wasn't interested in being with anyone else other than Nikki, and that wasn't ever going to change.

I'm not sure if she just had more time to really think about it and dwell since Duff had been gone more often after that, but her attitude toward my husband had turned somewhat sour, and I couldn't really blame her. Anyone else in my shoes would've left him, but she should've also been glad I stayed with him, because if not for me staying, I would've ended up with Duff.

I made certain to never remind her of that, though, of course.

Once Monroe is back in his crib asleep and Mandy's in the kitchen washing his bottle, Duff's nudging me with his elbow, nodding to the back door of my house.

We get outside, the two of us sitting on lounge chairs, facing one another as his elbows rest on his knees, and my knees are almost touching his.

He rubs at his forehead, taking a moment to gather his thoughts as if he's hesitant to speak.

"What is it?" I ask him softly, plucking his hand from his forehead, holding it in mine, knowing he's doing it out of nervousness.

He looks at his hand in mine and lets out a heavy breath.

"So, we gotta be in Tokyo tomorrow night to be able to play Sunday." He gets it out, clearing his throat.

"I thought your tour was done?" I furrow my brows. "I thought you said – "

" – I should've told you sooner, Viv, I'm sorry." He says calmly.

"Oh, you lied to me." I look at him pointedly, dropping his hand.

"I didn't lie." He shakes his head.

"So, they just now let you guys know they were adding an extra leg to the tour while me and Nikki were out, or…?" I try to keep the sarcasm from my voice, irritation beginning to seep into my words.

"I didn't know how to tell you." He admits. "I've been gone a lot – "

" – No shit." I don't bite my tongue and he raises his brows.

"Excuse me?"

"You were here one day. One day. And it wasn't even the day he was born."

"How the hell was I supposed to know he was gonna be early, Vivian? That's not my fault!"

"But you did know you weren't gonna be here for his actual due date." I fire back. "And never told me."

"That doesn't even matter now, Vivian, he's here."

"It matters to me!" I raise my voice. "I didn't want Axl to be the one in the room with me during one of the scariest things I've had to go through. I didn't want him to be the first one – aside from myself – to hold our baby. And I tolerated it because I thought to myself, 'he came earlier than we planned, nobody was prepared for it', and then I found out that it wouldn't have mattered if he came when he was supposed to because you wouldn't have been there, anyway." I point at him and he takes in a breath, not saying another word. "You told me you'd be home at the end of September. You didn't get home until Thanksgiving. Then you told me you were done until the next album. Now, you're gonna be gone for how long, again?"

"We will be back December 20th." He replies flatly. "And we'll be done until next year." He adds.

"Okay, Duff, right. We'll see." I scoff, standing up, walking back into the house, slamming the door shut.

Perhaps I overreacted, or maybe he would’ve felt more comfortable telling me the truth sooner had he thought that I would’ve reacted more calmly.

I was proud of the guys and their success, and them being pressed to tour so much was a sign that they had finally made it the way they had dreamed of — it was a wonderful thing to happen to them, and I’m glad it did.

I just hadn’t exactly thought through raising a baby with someone who couldn’t be there 100 percent of the time, and it hurt the both of us for him to miss so much so early on, and had me wondering if I even wanted children with Nikki, because I knew it would be the same damn thing.

#nikki sixx #mötley crüe #nikki sixx fanfiction #nikki sixx x oc #gateway drug

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