Bandom One-shots book 3

Thanksgiving! (Nikki Sixx x Slash)

~1995, Thanksgiving. Slash POV~

The smell of pumpkin pie and roasted turkey filled the house, wrapping around me like a warm blanket. My mom had been in the kitchen since early morning, fussing over the meal like it was the most important event of the year. Dad was in the living room, grinning ear to ear as he poked at the fireplace. He hadn't even needed to light it, but he was doing it anyway—said it made the house feel "cozier."

And me? I was pacing in the hallway, wiping my sweaty palms on my jeans as I waited for Nikki's car to pull up.

"Saul!" my mom called from the kitchen. "Will you stop pacing? You're going to wear out the floor!"

I groaned, running a hand through my hair. "I'm not pacing," I called back.

"You're pacing," she shot back, her voice teasing. "Relax, sweetheart. He's going to love us."

I sighed, leaning against the wall. It wasn't him I was worried about—Nikki was cool as hell, and I knew he'd be his usual charming self. It was me. I didn't want to screw this up. My parents had been over the moon when I told them I was dating a guy. They'd been even more excited when they found out it was Nikki. But this was different. This was Thanksgiving. This was big.

Before I could spiral any further, there was a knock at the door. My heart skipped a beat, and I practically tripped over my own feet rushing to open it.

Nikki stood on the porch, looking as cool as ever in his leather jacket and dark jeans. His hair was perfectly messy, his eyeliner smudged just enough to look intentional. He was holding a pie in one hand and a bottle of wine in the other.

"Hey," he said, grinning that crooked grin of his. "Happy Thanksgiving."

I couldn't help but smile back, my nerves melting away just a little. "Happy Thanksgiving. You brought pie?"

"And wine," he said, holding them up. "Your mom likes red, right?"

I blinked, touched that he remembered. "Yeah, she does. Come on in."

He stepped inside, and I closed the door behind him, taking the pie and wine so he could shrug off his jacket. The second he did, my mom appeared, her face lighting up like a Christmas tree.

"Nikki!" she exclaimed, wiping her hands on her apron before pulling him into a warm hug. "It's so good to finally meet you!"

Nikki blinked, clearly a little surprised, but he hugged her back, a small smile tugging at his lips. "It's good to meet you too, Mrs. Hudson."

"Call me Ola," she said, patting his cheek like she'd known him forever. "Now, what did you bring me? Is that wine? You're already my favorite."

"Uh, yeah," Nikki said, chuckling as he handed her the bottle. "And a pie. Pumpkin."

She gasped. "Oh, you're definitely my favorite. Saul, you better keep this one."

"Mom," I groaned, feeling my face heat up. Nikki just laughed, his dark eyes sparkling with amusement.

Dad poked his head out of the living room then, his face breaking into a wide grin when he saw Nikki. "There's the man of the hour!" he said, striding over to shake Nikki's hand. "I'm Anthony. Welcome to our home."

"Thanks," Nikki said, shaking his hand firmly. "It's really nice to meet you."

Dad clapped him on the shoulder, his grin not faltering for a second. "Nice to meet you too. We've heard a lot about you."

Nikki raised an eyebrow, glancing at me. "Oh yeah? Good things, I hope."

"Nothing but," Dad said with a wink.

"Okay, okay," I cut in, desperate to change the subject. "Can we move this to the dining room before you guys embarrass me to death?"

Nikki chuckled, leaning close to murmur in my ear, "I think it's cute."

My face went even redder, but I managed a small smile.

The rest of the evening went better than I could've hoped. Nikki charmed my parents effortlessly, laughing at Dad's jokes and complimenting Mom's cooking. They asked him a million questions—about his music, his life, how we'd met—and he answered them all with an easy confidence that made me fall for him all over again.

By the time dessert rolled around, Nikki and Dad were deep in conversation about guitars, and Mom was already planning to teach Nikki how to make latkes for Hanukkah.

After dinner, when Nikki and I were alone in the kitchen, washing dishes while my parents relaxed in the living room, he turned to me with a soft smile.

"Your parents are awesome," he said, bumping his shoulder against mine.

I smiled, feeling a warmth in my chest that had nothing to do with the food or the fire. "Yeah, they are."

He leaned in, pressing a quick kiss to my temple. "I can see where you get it from."

I rolled my eyes, but my smile didn't falter. "Shut up and dry the plates."

He laughed, grabbing a dish towel. "Yes, sir."

And for the first time in a long time, everything felt exactly the way it was supposed to.

~Thanksgiving!~