Chapter Text
It's happened a few times before; The almost sticky sweet scent of burnt sugar and thick cherry syrup passed through his senses, and disappeared as fast as it had appeared. It made his mouth start to water every time it happened...
The drummer turned his head quickly from side to side, to try and find where the scent had come from, and more importantly, where it had gone. Instead, he gets puzzled looks from his bandmates sitting beside and across from him at the booth they were sitting in.
"What's up, T?" Nikki asked, having just slid into the booth with a fresh round of drinks for them all, as celebration for a good show that night.
"N-nothing... I just-... I thought I smelled something," Tommy replied, lips pressed together into a slight frown, confusion written over his face.
"Yeah, it's your own BO, man. When was the last time you even showered?" The blonde named Vince beside him, asked.
The brunette frowned, "Hey-" before lifting up an arm to smell himself. It wasn't bad per se, but he definitely didn't smell like roses. "I showered this morning. It's not my fault I get all sweaty when I play."
"Don't listen to him, drummer. He smells just as bad, and I can tell from over here." Mick says, a small snicker in his voice as he reached for one of the glasses on the table.
"Oh so what? You think you smell like daisies or something?" Vince snapped back defensively, "Those stage lights are hot, especially with those fire-technics, and you're dressed in heavy black clothes!"
"It's pyrotechnics, firstly."
"Oh fuck off-"
"And secondly, I've learned of the magical product called deodorant that masks ungodly scents like your own," Mick replied, before taking a sip of his drink. Tommy was just glad that the attention was off of himself for now.
"I use deodorant!" Vince said, still trying to defend himself.
"Clearly not enough. You should use whatever Nikki is wearing, because I can't smell a thing from him." The guitarist said, sitting back a little further to enjoy his drink before the three got too rowdy for him to handle while sober.
They all turned to Nikki then, who almost choked on his drink at the mention of his name in the conversation. "What?"
Tommy's interest in the conversation picked back up then. He honestly hadn't noticed it until Mick mentioned it just now, but the old man was right. Tommy could never pick up on the bassist's scent, and usually he was really good with smells. He could always tell when Mick or Vince showed up at the apartment, because their scent always washed through the place as soon as they entered, but Nikki... Nikki always came in without a trace. Sometimes he could pick up the faint scent of something sweet- like girls' perfume clinging to his shirt still, or whiskey from having drunk too much, but that was all. It always confused Tommy.
"Fine then!" Vince, who was now clearly annoyed, downed his drink before asking, "What's your secret, Sixx? Where do I buy it?"
Tommy watched as Nikki put his glass back down on the table, the muscles in his hand looking a little tense, but Tommy couldn't tell if it was just the lighting or not.
"My secret?" Nikki repeated, pressing his lips together. It was a faint notion that only someone like Tommy- his twin- could tell that the bassist was feeling uncomfortable. It only lasted a moment though, because a second later the corner of Nikki's mouth curled upwards into a half smirk. An expression that always made Tommy feel a little giddy to see. "Why should I tell you?"
"Because, fuckface, you already have enough secrets. Just spill this one." Vince chuffed.
"That's not a very good answer."
"He doesn't want to scare off the ladies with his stink rays." Mick chimed in, finishing off the rest of his drink and placing the empty glass onto the table.
"Fuck you. At least I have a better chance with my stink than you do with your whole Count Dracula thing going on." Vince said, circling his finger at Mick to insinuate that all of the guitarist was the issue.
"Say what you will, but the ladies dig the look," Mick said with a shrug. "What kinda lady wouldn't like a little bite on the neck from their vampire fantasy anyways?" he smirked, showing the flash of a fang as he played into the whole vampire look that Vince was trying to drag him on.
Tommy tried to stifle a chuckle, raising his free hand to cover his mouth. Mick had a point. Tommy hadn't met a single girl that didn't like a little nibble on the neck at times. Even the alpha girls liked it.
"You know what?" Vince huffed, "I don't need to hear this from you today. I'll show you I can pick up any girl I want, even if I apparently stink!" The blonde abruptly tried to get out from his spot in the booth, but not before shoving Tommy out of the way and crawling over him to get out as fast as possible, knocking the table and causing Tommy's drumsticks to roll off and clatter onto the ground.
"Damn, Vin! You could've just asked me to move!" Tommy huffed, a slight growl in his voice from the frustration he was feeling from basically being trampled on by his bandmate.
"You're too slow," Vince said before he turned and disappeared into the crowd, fully intending to show up Mick by having a girl in each arm by the end of the night.
Tommy was a little dishevelled after Vince had shoved him, and when he looked down at the ground, he couldn't see where his sticks had rolled off to. "Shit- Where did my sticks go?"
"I got 'em," said Nikki as he ducked under the table to grab the sticks that had fallen near his feet.
"Thanks, man," replied Tommy as he reached his hand forward to grab the sticks from the bassist when he came back up, but his hand faltered for a moment as the scent of dark sugary syrup passed through his senses for the second time that night, and disappeared as quickly as it did the first time. Damn. What the hell.
"No problem," Nikki replied, and Tommy had no idea how that sickly sweet scent wasn't affecting anyone but him. Could only the drummer smell it? Maybe it just wasn't as strong for Nikki.. or Mick? There's no way...because even just a faint whiff had caused him to grow a little uncomfortable in his pants. God damn. Tommy really had to figure it out soon.
Growing up, Tommy had always been told about soulmates, and how magical they could be. At first, he didn't know how they could have been any different from a regular mate. Couldn't anyone be your soulmate, if you clicked with them enough?
His mother had tried to explain it to him on multiple occasions.
"Soulmates have a deeper connection than regular mates do, Thomas. It's all instinctual. It's like an internal pull that you aren't able to deny, no matter how hard you try."
"That just doesn't make any sense, Mom," Young Tommy had said, confusion written across his face.
His mother sighed softly, "I know, honey, but it's true. Soulmates aren't able to deny the other. It's what makes the connection between them so intense and strong from the start. It's the reason why I agreed to marry your father the day I met him. I had no reason to say no, and I could tell that deep down, he was my soulmate."
"But.. I just don't get it. How did you know he was different?"
"I could tell... In here," she said, raising a hand to place it where Tommy's heart would be on his chest.
It just didn't make sense to him though. How would that feeling be any different from when he meets a hot chick that gets his blood pumping and his heart racing?
It wasn't until after he had met Nikki and joined his gang-turned-band that he thought he finally understood what his mother was trying to explain.
He experienced it for the first time after Motley Crue had just finished their first show together at the Starwood. They weren't expecting the amount of applause that they received, especially after all the minor fuck-ups that they did.
Tommy had experienced the thrill of adrenaline rushes and the highs of cocaine and sex, but nothing could have prepared him for the pounding of his heart when he reached the front of the stage with the other members. At first he thought it was because they just finished their first show together as a band, but it wasn't until the scent of burnt sugar hit his nose that he finally understood what it was.
His mother was right. He would know right away.
"Oh, fuck.." Tommy had groaned before slightly stumbling into Nikki, his knees suddenly feeling weak. His hand came up to cover his nose to try and restrain the scent from hitting his senses.
"You okay, Tommy?" Nikki asked, turning to support his friend by placing an arm around him. "Have a little too much to drink?" He teased, smirking as he turned back to the new fans that had gathered at the front of the stage to try and get closer to them.
"Y-yeah... Probably," The drummer said, forcing out a small chuckle as he tried to compose himself. Meanwhile, his eyes darted across the fans' faces, hoping that his eyes would meet with whoever it was that had the scent strong enough to make his stomach flip and have him weak in the knees.
He was unlucky though, because soon the scent faded away, and the girls were still there, and Tommy had no idea what to do with himself. Did he miss his chance? Had his apparent soulmate been here and left? Would she have not noticed the same thing he did? Did she care? Could she have denied fate? No.. that was impossible... Right?
Tommy wasn't sure, but it left him in a downer mood for the next few days, spiralling and wallowing in what-ifs and fake happenings.