Flesh and Blood (Sequel to Poison'd Crüe)

One

February, 1990

Just over two Years after the surprise of a proposal that led to him being Graced with his mate’s restored feminine virginity, Mötley Crüe bassist Nikki Sixx was nearly at the End of his rope. His band had gone back into the studio after the holidays of 1987 to start recording what was now their fifth album, Dr. Feelgood, once said band had gone through some extensive rehab. The band his mate was bassist of, Poison, had headed out on tour to support their sophomore album–Open Up and Say…Ahh!–which’d spawned several hits, but none as popular as the number-one single Every Rose has Its Thorn.

        Now, after most of a tour that was enough to drive any man completely insane, he was almost ready to throttle anyone who so much as looked at him. Dr. Feelgood was Mötley’s first–and so far, only–number one album, and while he was proud of achieving that feat, he just wanted some time off. He’d barely gotten to see his poor mate since that Yule when he proposed, and he knew Bobby was just as sick of the circumstances.

        The only times they ever got to see each other were when either they both had a Day off before Poison concluded their Open Up tour, or at least said younger bassist did. Even if Nikki didn’t have the Day off, no one knew when he disappeared to take a personal Day–his own buddy and Mötley’s manager as of 1986, Rikki, covered his six like any good friend would. The man was an Elf capable of pulling Glamours so realistic, no one could tell the difference unless their nose was as good as his and his Zorro mate’s. Knowing him so well, he could impersonate him in any mental state helped make the façade that much more believable–there’d never been a single report of anyone outta the crowds being able to tell the difference.

        Such was the case on this Day eleven Days after Valentine’s–or Lupercalia, as he and Bobby celebrated it since they were both Witches, and he was Italian. Nobody was any the wiser to him having gone home to Los Angeles the Night previous, despite Mötley having a show in Seattle, Washington before getting a week off to just chill wherever they decided to go. Rikki took him home by way of something called Transference, which basically amounted to magickal teleportation, before going back to fill in for him onstage.

        “Mmm,” the older bassist hummed as he woke to something squirming slightly against his side.

        “Mmm–mraw,” answered him, drawing a smile from him.

        “Buongiorno, mio piccolo Volpe,” Nikki murmured, rolling slightly so he wasn’t on his back and slightly propped up and could kiss him.

        “Buongiorno, mio Stregone Musica,” the younger bassist murmured sleepily, humming into the kiss he was given.

        “Glad to get me for an extra Day, huh?” he chuckled.

        “Mmm, hmm,” Bobby hummed, nodding against his chest. “I missedja, love.”

        “Couldn’t have been as much as I missed you,” the older bassist retorted playfully.

        “Really, now? Maybe ya need to show me again how much ya missed me,” he snarked with a grin.

        Letting out a low growl, he rolled atop his much younger mate so he knelt between his legs, their Morn Wood brushing as his hips gently pinned him to their bed. The younger bassist couldn’t help a moan as he bucked up against him, his arms already wrapping around him as his head tilted back. He gladly took advantage of that, ducking his head to nip at his throat as he lined himself up and entered him in one swift, but gentle thrust.

        Bobby cried out softly as his eyes rolled back slightly, the brown of his irises almost unable to be seen as he got lost in the pleasure. It’d been nearly two months since he’d gotten to see his mate for anything but a quick lunch date before a show, or just to hang out with one of their bands for the Day. Sex’d pretty much been outta the question due to Time constraints, or having too many nosy eyes and ears around.