Disclaimer: The following story is a work of fiction. The author does not own any of the following names or personalities. The author does not imply that the people mentioned within would act or have acted in the ways depicted. No money has been made from this.

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Nikki slid his finger down the side of his half-empty whisky glass, collecting the condensation. The humid, smoky air of the Seventh Veil pressed against his bare arms, his face, and felt thick in his lungs. His hair had wilted and now drooped in front of his eyes, and no amount of puffing could push it back where it belonged. A drop of sweat ran down his temple, down his cheek, but it was too hot to bother wiping it away. He blinked at the neon signs over the bar and the dim lights overhead. The odd lit cigarette shimmered before him, too, and he let his eyes come unfocused. The usual aroma of beer and sweat barely registered, this night replaced by the strongest, most beguiling scent of all: Vince's cologne. Vince's thigh pressed against his own, and that was the hottest place of all, the one most worthy of his attention.

Tommy chattered to his left, arm moving into Nikki's peripheral vision as he described the size of the last cake he saw a stripper jump out of. Nikki had heard the story a dozen times; each time, it became less amusing. The two strippers Tommy was talking to tonight had never jumped out of any cakes. Really? Tommy asked them.

To Nikki's right, Vince had finally pulled the label off his beer bottle. He crumpled it and sent it skittering across the table. He laid the naked bottle on its side and spun it with a half-hearted flick of the wrist. The neck pointed at Nikki.

"Whatcha doin'?" Nikki could barely get the words out, mouth hot and sticky and throat parched. He lifted the remainder of his drink to his lips.

"Eh," Vince grunted in response, shifting in the booth. His leather pants squeaked against Nikki's. He spun the bottle again.

"Your bottle keeps landin' on me."

Vince's brow furrowed, and then he grinned. "Oh, heh. Yeah." He flipped his hair back over his shoulder, and a few strands grazed Nikki's cheek, whispy and fragrant. He spun the bottle again. Nikki caught a lock of Vince's hair with his wet finger. It darkened a little, sliding like silk against Nikki's skin. Vince leaned away. "Dude."

Nikki held on to the lock of hair and pressed it between his fingers, squeezing the water out of it.

Vince held himself still. "What the fuck are you doing?"

Nikki put his head on Vince's shoulder. And then Vince laughed. Nikki could feel his pulse pounding in his temples, so hard he was almost surprised Vince couldn't feel it, too. He slid his hand up Vince's back and over Vince's other shoulder.

Vince squirmed. "Really. What are you doing, dude?"

"Slow night, isn't it?" Nikki tried again to puff the hair out of his eyes and leaned back in their booth, pulling Vince back with him.

Vince tipped his head back and let it rest on the vinyl seat. "Yeah."

This kind of heat was okay. Body heat. Living heat. Vince heat.

Nikki let his fingertips graze Vince's neck. He wondered what that must feel like to Vince, wondered if his ragged calluses were a thrill or an irritation. Or a big nothing. Vince's eyes were closed and his breathing was even. Nikki guessed Vince was used to him by now, used to the touching, the squeezing. He probably chalked it up to alcohol or smack. Suffocating me, Vince would say, crushing me, and Nikki would always let go. He pulled Vince's hair back and traced his ear. Vince didn't open his eyes. Nikki tugged on his earlobe.

One corner of Vince's mouth quirked upward. "That's nice."

That's nice. It was never nice before.

"Hold still." With his free hand, Nikki fished an ice cube out of his glass and sucked the dregs of his drink from it. He dragged the ice cube up the side of Vince's neck to his ear. Traced the curves inside it. Cold water ran back Nikki's hand and down his arm. Vince shivered and squirmed, pressed himself into the seat. Didn't try to get away. Nikki brought the thin nub of ice across Vince's cheek to his lips and pushed it between them, where it melted completely. Vince's tongue probed the ends of Nikki's fingers, and sparks flew down Nikki's spine. He withdrew his fingers and let them pull Vince's bottom lip down. It sprung back up, moist and plump and soft. The heat was Vince, the scent was Vince, the throbbing pressure building in his groin was Vince.

Vince uncrossed his arms and squeezed Nikki's thigh. "Hey." His hand crept across Nikki's lap, slid over Nikki's crotch. A smirk crossed his lips, but he kept his eyes closed. "Why didn't you get a couple strippers tonight?"

Nikki swallowed. "Not interested."

Vince dug his fingers in. "Guess not." A genuine smile now; the smirk was gone.

Nikki swallowed again, glanced sideways. They were alone in their booth. He had no idea when Tommy had left with the girls. He blinked at the backs of the patrons at the VIP bar. Vince's fingers eased under the flap of his fly and found his zipper pull. He leaned in close to Nikki, lips just inches away from his ear. "No tablecloths in this joint."

"I don't give a fuck."

"Sure?" Vince's hot breath puffed against Nikki's ear. "'Cause we could always go back to your place."

"Could we?"

"Mmm-hm."

Nikki envisioned grabbing Vince by his t-shirt, hauling him onto the tabletop, pushing his legs apart and burying his face in Vince's crotch, tasting leather. Imagined the horrified stares they'd get while he was pulling Vince's zipper down with his teeth. Imagined the terrified flush that would rush into Vince's cheeks while his head was hanging over the edge of the table, the frantic Nikki, get off me!

Vince nuzzled his earlobe.

Nikki imagined dragging a naked Vince over to his bed, throwing him down onto the black, satin sheets. Pinning him there, jerking his cock, listening to him whimper and feeling the sweat-slick squirming underneath him. The soft, breathless Fuck yeah, baby.

Nikki knew Vince would never call him Baby or any other fucking pet names. He knew he'd always be Asshole, Motherfucker, Bastard, Junkie. That for any whispered I love you, there'd be a dozen sneered I hate you's.

Vince sighed against his ear. "What's it gonna be, baby?"

Nikki blinked at Vince. Their lips were just inches away, and Nikki could feel Vince's steamy breath gliding across his cheek. And then Vince leaned in for a kiss. It was a live wire, red hot, burning his lips the way the whisky burned his throat. Nikki eased off, blood rushing, lust flushing his body. "Let's go."

They scooted out of the booth. Nikki stood, glancing around the bar, wondering if anyone had seen them kiss. Vince tugged on his belt loop. He turned and studied Vince's face-- his smouldering eyes, flushed cheeks, full lips. It seemed too good to be true. There was no way Vince really desired him, craved his touch, wanted his cock. Not after all this time. Not after all the rejected advances, the sneering dismissals. Not after, Are you some kind of fuckin' faggot, Sixx? The adrenaline rush brought Nikki a sudden flash of mental clarity. Vince was a fucking player to the core. He slid his arm around Vince's waist, pulled Vince tight against him, dipped down, and hoisted him onto their table.

"The fuck?" Vince scowled as glasses and bottles crashed to the floor behind him. "What are you doing?"

Nikki grinned, nostrils flaring. He grabbed Vince by the thighs, tried to pull his legs apart.

"Jesus Christ, Nikki, get your hands off me!"

"Hush now, you're going to disturb the other patrons."

"Fuck you! Let go!"

"Sshh."

Vince's eyes went wide. Then a voice from behind Nikki said, "Excuse me."

Nikki craned his neck to see who was behind him. Club security. "Hey, Pete. How you doin'?" Nikki let go of Vince, plastering a smile across his face.

Pete rolled his eyes. "Where's your partner in crime?"

"Tommy? Out with the girls."

Pete snorted. "I think you two ought to get outta here. Before you break the table or each other's skulls."

Nikki glanced back at Vince, who glared at him.

Pete said, "Let me walk you to the door."

"Fine, okay. Fine." Nikki stood up straight and reached for Vince's hand. Still glaring, Vince took it and let Nikki pull him off the table. Pete steered them both by their shoulders to the door.

"Don't be stupid," Pete said, and disappeared back into the club.

Vince glowered at Nikki. "Jesus Christ."

Nikki inhaled. The air was much cooler outside, much fresher. If you could call any Los Angeles air "fresh." He took a few deep breaths. "What's the matter, Vinnie? Not like you never got kicked out of a club before."

Vince shook his head.

"What?"

"Fuck, Nikki. What'd you think you were doing?"

Nikki simply grinned in response. Vince rolled his eyes and hailed a cab. Tommy and the strippers had apparently taken their limo to fuck-knows-where. Vince climbed in in silence.

Nikki scooted in beside him, and their knees bumped together. Vince rested his forehead on the passenger-side window's glass. "Vince." Vince didn't look at him. "Mad at me now?"

Vince tipped his head back and closed his eyes. Sighed. "No."

Nikki peered at Vince, trying to gauge his mood. The cabbie's voice broke his concentration. "Where to?"

Nikki's gaze flicked around the inside of the car, then landed on Vince again. "Motel Six."

"Okay," the cabbie said, and the car lurched forward.

Nikki stared at Vince for minutes, he was sure-- solid minutes-- before he finally opened his eyes. "What?" The promise of a smile played over Vince's face, then vanished.

Nikki looked away. "I hope they have the vibrating beds."

A small chuckle, and then Vince's fingers were twining through his hair. Twisting. Tugging. Nikki tilted his head into the touch.

"Your hair is fucked, man. You need a fuckin' shower." A pause. "We both do."

"What else is new?"

"Heh."

They rode in silence the rest of the way. Nikki felt as if he couldn't escape the humidity. Every breath he took inside the car grew increasingly labored. He imagined water vapor coating his lungs, felt beads of sweat forming at his temples and across his forehead. Every glance at Vince made his breath catch, hitching and rattling in his chest like a broken, toy train. He was far, far too sober for this. Vince had finally given up, given in-- or so he wanted it to appear to Nikki. They would get to the motel, and Vince would laugh, and then he'd call the phone in the limo and convince Tommy to come over and make it a real party.

No, that wouldn't happen tonight, Nikki decided. The Motel Six wasn't good enough for one of Vince's parties. He glanced over again. Vince looked serene, head tipped back and eyes closed. Arms loosely folded across his chest. Nikki frowned. He wasn't in the mood to play games with Vince. At least, not any games that wouldn't leave him the winner.

Nikki paid the driver and the two of them shuffled toward the entrance of the motel. Ten minutes and two fake names later, they had their room.

It was clean enough for Nikki. He glanced at Vince, who scowled and plucked at the bedspread. "You think they ever wash these?"

Nikki jerked the bedspread off the bed and tossed it on the floor. "Who cares?"

Vince smiled, slowly. Seductively. Closed the space between them, wrapping his arms around Nikki's waist. His fingers crawled under the hem of Nikki's t-shirt and then slid under his waistband. He looked up, grinning. Expectant.

Nikki kissed him. Nothing discreet about the kiss this time. Certainly nothing polite. He caught Vince's bottom lip with his teeth, worrying it until that raw taste filled his mouth. Letting it go just short of blood, then diving in again, pushing his tongue into Vince's mouth. Tasting beer. Vince made a sound of protest in his throat. Nikki ignored him and pushed on, winding Vince's hair around his knuckles. Their teeth clicked together. Vince whimpered and wriggled. Nikki tilted his head to the side, letting his tongue probe one of Vince's sharp, canine teeth. He wanted that hot mouth, those sharp teeth, all over his body. Vince tried to twist away, and this time Nikki let him go.

Vince stepped back and wiped his mouth with the back of his arm, never breaking eye contact with Nikki. Then he pulled his shirt off and tossed it behind him.

Nikki followed suit and tossed his own t-shirt on the pile. Vince was tan, so tan compared to a pale junkie like himself. Nikki stared at the strong, golden arms as Vince worked on his fly. Vince inched the leathers down on his hips, giving Nikki a glimpse of his tan line. Of dark pubic hair. And then, of his cock. Vince had a good-looking cock, just like the rest of his body. Nikki briefly recalled the aborted threesome he�d had with Vince one night. Remembered how thick and powerful Vince�s erection had looked as it rubbed against Nikki�s girlfriend�s ass.

Vince�s cock wasn�t hard now, though. It simply dangled there between those slim, strong thighs. Nikki looked down at his own leather pants and his very obvious arousal.

�Come on, Nikki.� Vince stepped close to him again, fingers popping the button on Nikki�s fly. �What are you waiting for?�

�You.�

Vince smirked. �So fuckin� lazy.� Vince eased his zipper down. �Can�t do anything yourself, can you?�

�Can�t suck my own cock.�

Vince pushed the leathers over Nikki�s ass. �Shame, isn�t it?�

�Not really.�

Vince grinned and slid down Nikki�s body, pulling the pants with him. Hitting his knees. Nikki�s hard-on bobbed in front of his face. Vince rubbed his palm against Nikki�s groin, fingers catching in pubic hair.

Nikki bit his lip. It would be so easy to just lean forward a little-- he rocked forward on the balls of his feet-- just a little, and let his cock bump into Vince's lips, or cheek, or chin.

Vince jerked his head back. "Whoa, shower first."

Nikki stepped out of his pants. "Gonna wash my dick for me, too?"

"Maybe." A flutter of eyelashes.

Nikki smirked and headed for the shower without another word. He wondered how far he could take Vince. Needed to call his bluff before things got out of hand. Before he couldn't stop himself.

Vince swept the shower curtain aside with his arm. "The shampoo is mine... even if you could probably use it more." Vince handed the tiny bar of soap to Nikki.

"I guess that's fair."

Vince got the shower up to temperature and gestured to the tub. "After you."

Nikki brushed past Vince and stepped under the spray, letting the water saturate his hair. Vince stepped in behind him.

"God, Nikki, why did you have to pick this fucking shit hole?"

Nikki studied Vince. "Just relax, dude. Wash the sweat off." He brushed his fingers over the small of Vince's back, and Vince shuddered. From arousal or revulsion, Nikki wasn't sure.

Nikki pressed closer, sharing the spray with Vince. Rubbing his boner against Vince's ass.

Vince seemed to be ignoring him.

Nikki took the little bottle of conditioner out of Vince's hand before he got a chance to unscrew the cap.

"Nikki..."

"We're gonna need that later."

"Oh."

Nikki pushed his cock between Vince's ass cheeks. Vince took a step forward, pressing himself against the pea-soup-colored tile.

"You dirty fucking dog. Wash yourself."

Nikki smirked and did as he was told. Vince turned around to face him as he shampooed his hair.

"What, don't you trust me?"

"Yeah, sure I do." Vince rolled his eyes and rinsed his hair. Then glanced at Nikki's boner. "Okay, I think we've showered enough." He stepped out of the tub and grabbed the lone towel from the towel bar.

Nikki followed Vince back into the bedroom, dripping wet. "Are you gonna share?"

Vince tossed the towel at Nikki.

"Thank you." Nikki patted himself dry as Vince flopped back onto the bed. "So..." He dropped the towel on the floor. "Where were we?"

Vince pretended to yawn. "I think you were getting ready to beat off frantically while I watch TV." He picked up the big, clunky remote and clicked until he found a wildlife program.

Nikki joined him on the bed. "Look at those. What the fuck are those? Antelopes?"

"I dunno."

Nikki smirked as one of the creatures mounted the other one. "I think we were about to do that, actually."

"Fuck like antelopes."

"Yeah."

Vince took a sidelong glance at Nikki. "If you say so."

Nikki snatched the remote from Vince's hand and turned the TV off, then threw it across the room. "Listen, cocktease, I didn't come here to watch TV."

Vince arched an eyebrow but remained perfectly still. Only his flaring nostrils gave him away. "Smooth, Sixx."

Nikki kissed him. This time he tasted blood. Vince yanked a fistful of his hair, but Nikki ignored him, biting down harder. This was the closest he'd ever been to Vince. Tasting his blood. He came up for air.

"Motherfucker!" Vince gingerly touched his lip where Nikki had bit him. "You busted my fucking lip! You think I'm sucking your cock now? Fuck you."

"I never wanted you to suck my cock."

Vince stared at him, wiping the blood from his chin.

"Well, let me put it this way. That wasn't going to be the main course, if you get my drift."

"Fuck you. I'm not letting you fuck me."

Nikki smiled, more like a baring of teeth. "That's fine, Vince. What I wanted was for you to fuck me."

"Bullshit."

"You don't believe me? Why would I joke about it?" Nikki ran his hand up Vince's thigh, across his dick. "What I want, what I have wanted for a long time, was for you to fuck me" --he curled his hand around Vince's cock-- "in the ass."

"Bullshit."

Nikki looked into Vince's wide eyes, took note of how quick and shallow his breathing was. "No bullshit." He leaned down and rubbed his lips against Vince's cock, leaving a smear of blood. "I've seen chicks fuckin' limping away from your hotel room. I know what you like."

Nikki buried his face in Vince's crotch and licked the head of his cock, lips and tongue finally coaxing out an erection. "Yeah, that's what you like, isn't it?" Vince turned his head away, eyes squeezed shut. His lip was already beginning to swell.

Nikki savored the taste of Vince, the heat and the weight of his cock. After a few minutes, he stopped. "Now, here's the deal." He found the bottle of conditioner in the tangle of sheets and pushed it into Vince's hand. "You be gentle and I'll be gentle."

Vince finally opened his eyes and glared at Nikki. "Okay, I got it. Gentle. Like the way you kiss, right?"

"Gentler."

Vince unscrewed the cap from the bottle. "Face in the pillow, cocksucker."

Nikki did as he was told, stomach heaving with anticipation.

"Spread 'em."

Nikki spread his legs and felt cold conditioner land on his ass cheek. Vince's fingers followed, dancing through the puddle and then into the crack of his ass, slick and unrelenting as he felt for Nikki's asshole. Nikki squirmed as Vince wiggled a finger in.

"Stop squirming, unless you changed your mind about me being gentle."

Nikki pushed himself up onto his hands and knees.

"I'll bet you like pain, you sick motherfucker." Vince forced another finger in.

Nikki grit his teeth as Vince used his fingers to fuck him. "Just do it, unless you're a fucking pussy."

The fingers left him, replaced a moment later by the head of Vince's cock. "You know, I fucking hate you." Vince thrust inside him, deep, and Nikki dropped to his elbows, burying his face in the pillow again. Vince slapped Nikki between the shoulder blades. "Stay like that, you piece of shit." Vince thrust harder, throwing his weight against Nikki. "You're nothing but a bitch junkie. You're weak. You're nothing. You want everybody to think you're so great, but you're not." Vince's hand tangled and fisted in Nikki's hair. Nikki tried to get up on his hands again, but Vince pushed his head into the pillow. "Stay like that!" The hand never left the back of his head, knuckles digging into his scalp. "Stay. Like. That." Vince's thrusts became more erratic. "I hate you, Sixx. I fucking hate you!"

Nikki tried to breath, tried to suck stale air through the pillow. The coarse fabric scratched against his cheeks and forehead. He scrambled for leverage to throw Vince off, but every move allowed Vince to crush harder against him. His lungs ached.

And then Vince's hand was gone, his weight was gone, his dick was gone. Nikki flopped onto his back, gasping for air. Vince was already curled on his side, facing away from Nikki.

"Jesus Christ, " Nikki panted. "I called your bluff, didn't I, Vince?"

Vince said nothing. Nikki grabbed his arm, wrenched him onto his back. Tears streamed down Vince's cheeks. "Get your hands off me." His voice was cold, his eyes glazed and distant.

Nikki let go.

Vince's face hardened into a sneer. "Go to hell."

Nikki would have said he was sorry, but he wasn't.

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