The streets of LA never seemed better. Slash/Axl.
The warm Autumns air hung heavy in the rays from the midday sun, eyes scanned the atmosphere around him, the dull streets of LA weren't much to look at in this time of day, come dark, the bright lights of the strip clubs and overcrowded bars would fill the silence that now lingered around him.
Leaves crumbled beneath his shoes, the scattered remains breaking apart and blowing across the cracked cement and down into the gutter. A day like this he would be back at home, in front of the TV with a smoke and the company of his Jack Daniels but come early hours of the morning and their red haired singer hadn't yet stumbled in through the front door he downed the last of his second bottle that day and went in search for his friend.
A silhouette strayed from under a large tree, his shadow dancing up the branches of the old oak and his small figure curled at its roots. A leather covered hand came up and pushed the stray curls from his eyes, the last thing he needed was to trip.
Without saying a word he cautiously placed himself beside the singer, without a single acknowledgement from the older man he decided it was best to keep quiet. The midday's sun coated the singer in the low yellow light, the streaks of gold mixing with his red hair. His sunglasses covered any evidence of emotion but he knew the singer all too well not to know what was racing through his mind.
“I've always liked the way the sun mixed with your features,” He whispered quietly, his gaze set out in front.
A small breeze picked up, the red and orange leaves swirling lightly across the green grass and around their feet. Soon it would be dark and he'd have to help the older man home, in bed and into his arms.
“Thanks Slash,” Came his reply, he simply smiled to himself and rested his head upon the singers shoulders, only ready to leave when he wanted.