All In The Name Of.... // Nikki Sixx X Tommy Lee

Chapter 9 - Just Go Away

Nikki's POV-

Fuck my life. How the hell did this just happen? I'm standing at the bathroom sink. I can't even look at myself in the mirror. What is this going to do to our relationship with each other? Fuck. 

How could I let this happen? A little touch play is one thing, but to bring it to life is a whole fucked up can of worms. My best friend and I just fucked each other good, and I can't deal with it. I just need it all normal again. I thought that I could put him back under my thumb by going back at him hard, and putting him in his place, but really, it did nothing to make it better…. well, except maybe the fantastic orgasm. It all felt so good. That's part of the problem. I liked it. Why? I'm not gay, or even bi-sexual, and I've never even fantasized about any of this. It just happened. I don't know how to face my friend. I want want him to be fucking gone when I go back out there. He needs to go back to his own room. I really think that I just need to make myself unconscious. It's nearly 5am. I need to be out cold because I don't want to think about anything right now. 

I wasn't planning on using any more junk tonight. I'm low, and this leg of the tour goes on for 11 more days. I don't have enough to get through, even if I'm only just chipping as to keep the pain and the jonses from starting. I'm going to have to find a way to get more. But, I think for now, I can put myself out with sleeping pills and Jack, and a desire to die right about now. What kind of fucking pit of hell did I drop myself into. 

I need the pills, I need the Jack, I need Tommy gone. He better have left the damn whiskey here. I need my pants. Everything I need is out in the room. I need my sanity, but that's nowhere to be found.

I walk out into the dimly lit room. To my dismay, Tommy is still here; I see his shadowy figure smoking in the corner of the room, feet propped up, like he's some sauve prick from an old Hollywood movie of the golden age, having a smoke after satisfying sex. Bastard. He's here to fuck with my head. I know it. Not gonna give him the satisfaction. 

I shuffle over to my suitcase. The sight of it is overwhelming me. Messy piles of shit crammed in there from sloppy packing and not caring. Fuck the pants. I don't give a shit right now,  and I'm not squeezing my leather ones back on. Just pills. I know where my stash is. I find the bottle, pour several into my hand, not bothering to count them, nor care. Now the drink. 

I feel Tommy's eyes burning a hole in the back of my head, and I have to turn around towards him to find the Jack. I see him gazing at me, then I spot the bottle on the nightstand. I walk to the bed, sit on it, once again away facing from Tommy. I pound the pills and the rest of the whiskey, rub my eyes, and find myself holding my head in my hands for a minute before getting into the bed, underneath the covers…. on my side, faced away. 

The silence is cut by a snide remark from Tommy. "Not much for basking in the afterglow, are you Sixx?" I tell him to go fuck himself. And he comes right back and say, "I don't need to. You just took care of that." I'm about ready to bust his fucking teeth out, but everything seems a little fuzzy and slowed down right now. I think I told him to go back to his own damn room in some sort of slurred, fucked-up version of the English language. I hear a laugh, and some distant chatter, I'm fading out. Thank God.

Tommy's POV-

I predicted wrongly. Well partially. I think Sixx probably was wallowing in some sort of mental anguish, but his emergence from the bathroom was relatively calm, and slightly comical. To see him putzing around naked, staring at his mess, trying to piece together his plan of action to get himself into bed. I couldn't help messing with him. He'll be alright. I love him. I'm just bringing some levity to the situation. Only he's not getting it. 

He just needs to sleep it off, and he's off to a good start. I'm pretty sure he's out cold. The last thing he said to me was completely incoherent. I think he told me leave. I would, but now I'm a little nervous about leaving him alone. We all go to bed sometimes with a handful of pills and booze, and we all wake up alive the next day. It's nothing new. But I'm just feeling a little worried. Probably just because something out of the ordinary happened tonight, so it seems like it’s the type of night where other out of ordinary things could happen, like an OD. I know I'm overreacting, but I just feel better staying close by. I get into bed too. Turn on the TV, but I am soon out as well, in just a matter of minutes.