Categories > Celebrities > Guns n' Roses > Challenge
Talking Games
0 Reviews“Bend over.” Izzy’s eyes widened for a split second, but his body shifted back more noticeably. Nikki grinned as he...
As expected, Duff’s face contorted into ice-cold anger at Nikki’s announcement on who was riding in what bus. Nikki fought tooth and nail to hide his complacent smug curled lips into a solemn face of bemusement at the fussy blonde bassist. But Duff’s discomfort gave him too much pleasure especially from the point that Steven bounced carefree into the designated bus. Nikki mulled over the vast differences between the two blondes. Blondes he felt were like that, sexy, alluring but high maintenance and unpredictable. You had to watch out for those claws that they showed sometimes when they were in prime heat. That was the exact reason he never pursued Vince, too much drama for one guy.
What intrigued Nikki more than the blondes was not just Izzy’s impassive face, but his complete lack of emotion when Duff stepped up behind to whisper something to the smaller brunette. Izzy listened unresponsively; giving a dull nod and a short shrug after the blonde finished talking. Duff went to touch Izzy, but tensed and recoiled it quickly. Izzy had just blown Duff off? Nikki fought back a purr by closing his eyes for a few minutes.
Regardless of any distracting thoughts Nikki had, he had decided to approach Izzy on the bus. He desired to crawl into the guitarist’s core, his heart, and his soul. How succulent his heartstrings would be to pluck under his bassist’s calloused fingers, to tamper with, to jerk, to yank and twist, to wring, all his, only his. Nikki’s eyes kindled with orange embers radiating from the scent and thoughts that deluged his mind all the way down his body as he entered the bus.
Axl sat in Slash’s lap. Izzy and Mick at the table leaving Nikki to settle into a large leather chair that served as his solitary fortress. With a groan and an awkward lurch forward, the bus pulled away. Conversations of sorts were struck up as the landscape passed by the window like an old fashioned nickelodeon.
Nikki leaned back soberly observing the scene, analyzing Izzy’s subtle movements. His hands were still. Occasionally he spoke to Mick, but not much and rarely did he make eye contact with the small guitarist. His enjoyment of watching Izzy was well passed the waning stage.
A smashed bottle of Jack and screaming shrieks and growls brought the honeymoon bliss of male comradery and peace to an end. The furious red head slammed the door hard causing it to reverberate from the force. Slash jumped back a few feet in shock. Recollecting, himself he charged after Axl. His eyes flashed like lightning.
“Axl, let me the fuck in!” Slash yelled, slamming his fist so hard the wood bent cracking slightly. Axl hurled back words that would make Satan blush. Slash finally gave up with a final brutal kick, before storming off to lock himself in another room. Once secure, he kicked that door, bending that one too.
Nikki was mildly shocked. He had seen Vince fight with plenty of girlfriends and boyfriends, but he never envisioned these two Gunners who were always cuddled together like sex-deprived kittens to ever get this angry. Hell, Nikki wasn’t even sure what they were angry about and he had been sitting right in front of them the entire time. They hadn’t really said much of anything to each other - just snuggled. Nikki wondered if Axl didn’t want to put out. That brought a wicked curl to the side of his mouth.
“At least they had the decency to not lock themselves in the bathroom like girls do so we can take a leak,” Mick said dryly. Picking up his bottle of red liquor, he headed toward the other giant leather recliner at the far end of the bus.
Nikki could have sworn he saw Izzy’s lips twitch amused at Mick’s remark. He shrugged. Once he was sure the intoxicated guitarist had fallen into a soft blanket of slumber, he slid into Mick’s unoccupied spot at the table. He kicked one boot, then the other onto the table, crossing them as he leaned back. He had a small smug pout on his lips and draped an arm over the back of the bench. Izzy gazed out the window unmoved or undisturbed by the bassist’s appearance. Nikki wasn’t sure if he wanted to slap him or kiss him. Whichever way the wind blew he would go there, he supposed.
“You’re a little one sided on emotions, you know,” Nikki said with a tiny hint of amusement.
“How so?” Izzy asked still entranced in the never-ending sea of corn that whirled by the window.
“You don’t react,” Nikki informed him. “To anything.”
“Shook you up to see the love birds go at each other’s throats?” Nikki blinked at the detached voice. “That’s one of their more contained fights really. You should see them when they think no one’s watching.”
“You must watch them a lot. Gets you hot.” Izzy gave a laugh. It was small, but Nikki patted himself on the back for cracking Izzy’s shell for that split second.
“I guess about as much as you or your band would or do. I live with them you know.”
“You’re okay with them fighting then?”
“It’s their relationship not mine.”
“Ever been in something like that?”
“Once. Something like that,” Izzy said preoccupied. Nikki arched a brow at the subtle and abrupt openness of the guitarist.
“So since you live with them, what did they just start fighting about? They didn’t say more than two words to each other and they set each other off like fucking dynamite.”
“Nothing so blatantly superficial as a bad word between them. It’s the odd interworking of what makes that relationship tick. Too bad it’s also a time bomb that goes off without warning. Why so interested?” Izzy’s hands had grown restless. He tapped them on the table, wrung them, and balled them into fists only to lay them flat on the polished wood. He needed something, Nikki thought, a cig, a guitar, a bottle, a Nikki. That last one Nikki knew Izzy was definitely going to need.
“Slash is my friend…”
“Don’t give me that shit,” Izzy hissed mildly. He bit a nail as Nikki reached into his pocket pulling out a crumpled cigarette. He held the long white and brown cylinder under the guitarist’s nose.
“If you look at me during this conversation, I’ll give you this. It’s my last one.” Izzy turned his face for the first time to face Nikki. His eyes full and heavy, they entranced Nikki with their dark umber pools rimmed in fiery sienna. His features were sharp on his erotically gaunt face. Framed by the strings of his black mane, Nikki wanted to yank it back so as to have better access to that pale throat. His eyes descended onto Izzy’s Adam’s apple as it bobbed slightly at the sight of a cigarette.
“Fine,” Izzy said reaching out a hand. Nikki snatched away the guitarist’s prize.
“Uh-uh.” Nikki taunted twirling the cigarette under the other man’s nose as he eyed it with a ravenous hunger. “You didn’t promise or say please.”
Izzy eyed him suspiciously for a brief second and then smirked vaguely as he gave a soft snort. “Please, Nikki.” He stretched the please out into a small meek little whine that bordered cutesy. “If you put that stick in my mouth and light me up I promise I’ll stare into your warm green eyes forever.”
Nikki froze his spine, snapping forward as if someone had just smacked him hard on the back. Izzy reached over, snatching the cigarette from the befuddled bassist’s fingers. Nikki grinned wide as the tricky brunette slunk back into the wooden back of the bench. He didn’t necessarily pout, but he wasn’t mad either.
“You’ve got a few tricks up your sleeve, huh.”
“Always works on Duff.”
“You two together?”
“Yeah. We’re in the same band.”
“I mean you two fucking.”
“What’s it to you?” A foreboding chill descended over the guitarist’s penetrating brown eyes.
“Curious question.” Nikki shrugged trying to look nonchalant. The right side of Izzy’s mouth twitched upward into a mock smile as he turned his face away to stare at the interior of the bus. “Nu-uh.” Nikki growled grabbing the sinewy man’s jaw in one powerful hand, jerking the guitarist’s chin back, centering the smaller man’s face on his own. “You promised to actually look at me during this conversation. Now you have a choice: I can hold your jaw and you can talk through my hand or I can let you go and you keep those fucking eyes focused on me. Take your pick.”
“I’ll look at you. Now lemme go,” Izzy said between Nikki’s fingers. With a soft grunt, Nikki released him. Izzy rubbed his jaw slightly.
“Good.” Nikki gave an impish smirk when Izzy attempted to light his cigarette. The lighter sparked, but nothing came of the sparks.
“Bend over.” Izzy’s eyes widened for a split second, but his body shifted back more noticeably. Nikki grinned as he flicked his own lighter open keeping it low on the table. Izzy grinned as he bent over the small flame. Nikki risked bending over Izzy’s head inhaling his prey’s scent. It was musky, with traces of smoke, gin and fresh air laced together into a heavenly bouquet that filled his nostrils with an enthralling sensation of bliss. He flicked Izzy’s smooth chin as he pulled back from the flame. A thick plume of smoke wafted from Izzy’s puckered ruby lips, coiling into a lazed smile, as he stared at the Crue bassist with the intensity of a cobra.
“Do you ever answer questions?” Nikki asked enjoying the guitarist’s gaze on him.
“Sure I do. Hey, I just answered your question.” Izzy flicked the ashes away.
“Let’s play a game,” Nikki announced abruptly, causing mild shock to pass over Izzy’s eyes. “We each ask three questions. You tell me the truth. I tell you the truth.”
“All right,” Izzy said never breaking eye contact. He took another drag off his cigarette before cocking his head. “What’s off limits?”
“No limits. Anything goes. Think you can handle it?” Nikki said coyly. Izzy gave a curt nod. “You start.” He smiled when Izzy hissed under his breath.
“Do you play this little game with everyone or just me?”
Mm, Nikki liked that question - it was loaded with double and secretive meanings that could be twisted any which way. No matter how he answered, he could twist his meaning later, once his words were exposed, with the utmost care.
“I only play with people who are worth my time,” Nikki said coolly. “My turn. Who’s your favorite band?”
“Aerosmith, Led Zeppelin, Alice Cooper,” Izzy responded bewildered at such a shallow question. Nikki was pleased with his choice of bands and indicated with a soft gesture to urge Izzy into his turn.
Izzy righted his face before asking, “Who out of your band is a top and who’s a bottom?”
“What kind of a question is that?” Nikki said laughing.
“A question you said you would answer honestly.” Izzy said point blank.
“Well, Vince is a bottom. Mick I’ve never really asked. Tommy’s, well, T-Bone’s more of a knees type of guy.” That earned Nikki a serene smirk.
“And you?” Nikki gave a mild scowl at Izzy’s follow up question.
“I asked about your band. You’re in your own band aren’t you?” Nikki shrugged.
“Top I suppose. Then again I’ve never found anyone who’s denied me to penetrate them.” Nikki’s flash of teeth was wicked.
Izzy stared. His eyes had never left the bassist since his chin had been released. Nikki liked that he could watch him. The guitarist’s body was placid, but his eyes snarled and hissed. Behind those sparkling irises, his brain calculated each and every move as if he were playing chess. Nikki couldn’t wait to crawl into his brain to rework the clogs into a machine that was focused only for him.
“Hmm, well to shoot back - what’s your band?”
“I assumed you’d be able to figure that one out yourself.” Izzy frowned shrugging as he stubbed the end of his cigarette. He held up his hand. “But I’ll answer. Axl’s a bottom, but don’t tell him I told you that or I won’t get any sleep for the rest of my life. Slash is a top mostly, but he likes a good rim job from time to time. Duff is versatile and the non-committed type. Steven goes every which way, but he’s great on his knees.” Nikki leaned his head forward warning the guitarist to continue to keep speaking. “And me. Well, I guess I’m in the same boat as you. They just roll over the second they see me.” His lips drew up in a complacent smirk.
“I think you told me a few things I didn’t know.” Nikki said nodding his head. “It’s your turn to ask.”
“Do you want Duff?”
Nikki came close to slapping him. After this fun little cat and mouse game of words, he had the nerve to ask him if he wanted that gangly blonde excuse as a replacement for Tommy! Fuck him! He fought his anger swallowing it. It went down his throat hard.
“No, don’t tell me he wants me,” Nikki said trying to play it cool.
“Is that your final question you want to ask me?” Izzy said with wicked satisfaction.
“Everyone wants me. Why would I waste my last question on that?” Nikki tossed back at the smart-alec guitarist. “What power do you have over Axl that Slash doesn’t?”
“Liked that, did you?” Izzy’s eyes lit up with naïve excitement.
“Answer the question,” Nikki said impatiently.
“Slash! Goddamit, Slash, help me!” A strangled high-pitched, frightened scream rang out from the closed half broken door, before Izzy could reply. The curly haired guitarist threw open the door, throwing himself into the other with all of his strength, breaking the wood into thousands of pieces and flying splinters.
“Axl. Axl!” Slash said grabbing hold of his singer, cradling him in his arms. “Aw, come on fucker, don’t cry. Come on. Don’t. Don’t cry.” The singer coughed and stuttered as if he was about to cry, but the tears never came. He just shook badly. A collected Izzy silently strolled into the room, sitting with his knees drawn up into himself beside his band mates. He motioned with his head, urging Nikki and the rudely aroused Mick to the other room. Grimly, Nikki obeyed, following the lethargic guitarist.
“What did the two of you talk about?” Nikki asked, the second Mick dropped into another chair after closing the door.
“When?”
“Earlier, before you passed out.”
“Oh,” Mick said thoughtfully as if coming out of deep contemplation. Making Nikki even more impatient. “Guitar strings.”
“Guitar strings.”
“Yeah. He wanted to know if he could borrow some of mine. Slash apparently keeps stealing his.”
“That’s it?” Nikki looked at him incredulously.
“He starred out the window most of the time and I was drunk. Still am,” Mick said calmly. “Want my opinion?”
“Do I have a choice?” Nikki growled softly, like a frustrated lion.
“The guitarist’s got some sort of history with the other Gunners. If I were to guess, it would be something with Duff or Slash.”
“No. If it’s anyone, it’s Axl.”
“Why do you say him?”
“Axl was the one who just split us up. Fucking prima donna.”
“Whom did he cry out for though?”
“Slash, but Slash is too into…”
“Quit thinking like a kid, Nikki. Think this through. Why would Axl break you up by using Slash to do it? If Axl had a history with Izzy, he would have done it himself. He’s hot tempered. It wouldn’t fool Izzy - he’s too clever to not notice what Axl would be trying to do.” Mick’s gaze was even, the drunken mist lifting from his eyes. “It’s Slash, Nikki. I don’t know what it is, but I can tell there’s something unresolved between the two.”
“Why can’t you just be like Tommy and suck me off?” Nikki asked dismissively. He wanted to strangle Mick. He reminded him of another raven-haired rock god that tried to conquer him. That man was still on his mind even though he was miles and miles and oceans of corn away from him.
“You never asked,” Mick said as if he were reprimanding a child.
“What?” Nikki’s eyes flashed wide. “You’d actually do it?”
“No,” Mick said with the same level of calmness. “I give good rim jobs though.”
Well I guess Mick is more of an ass man, Nikki thought. Fuck, or a tongue man.
What intrigued Nikki more than the blondes was not just Izzy’s impassive face, but his complete lack of emotion when Duff stepped up behind to whisper something to the smaller brunette. Izzy listened unresponsively; giving a dull nod and a short shrug after the blonde finished talking. Duff went to touch Izzy, but tensed and recoiled it quickly. Izzy had just blown Duff off? Nikki fought back a purr by closing his eyes for a few minutes.
Regardless of any distracting thoughts Nikki had, he had decided to approach Izzy on the bus. He desired to crawl into the guitarist’s core, his heart, and his soul. How succulent his heartstrings would be to pluck under his bassist’s calloused fingers, to tamper with, to jerk, to yank and twist, to wring, all his, only his. Nikki’s eyes kindled with orange embers radiating from the scent and thoughts that deluged his mind all the way down his body as he entered the bus.
Axl sat in Slash’s lap. Izzy and Mick at the table leaving Nikki to settle into a large leather chair that served as his solitary fortress. With a groan and an awkward lurch forward, the bus pulled away. Conversations of sorts were struck up as the landscape passed by the window like an old fashioned nickelodeon.
Nikki leaned back soberly observing the scene, analyzing Izzy’s subtle movements. His hands were still. Occasionally he spoke to Mick, but not much and rarely did he make eye contact with the small guitarist. His enjoyment of watching Izzy was well passed the waning stage.
A smashed bottle of Jack and screaming shrieks and growls brought the honeymoon bliss of male comradery and peace to an end. The furious red head slammed the door hard causing it to reverberate from the force. Slash jumped back a few feet in shock. Recollecting, himself he charged after Axl. His eyes flashed like lightning.
“Axl, let me the fuck in!” Slash yelled, slamming his fist so hard the wood bent cracking slightly. Axl hurled back words that would make Satan blush. Slash finally gave up with a final brutal kick, before storming off to lock himself in another room. Once secure, he kicked that door, bending that one too.
Nikki was mildly shocked. He had seen Vince fight with plenty of girlfriends and boyfriends, but he never envisioned these two Gunners who were always cuddled together like sex-deprived kittens to ever get this angry. Hell, Nikki wasn’t even sure what they were angry about and he had been sitting right in front of them the entire time. They hadn’t really said much of anything to each other - just snuggled. Nikki wondered if Axl didn’t want to put out. That brought a wicked curl to the side of his mouth.
“At least they had the decency to not lock themselves in the bathroom like girls do so we can take a leak,” Mick said dryly. Picking up his bottle of red liquor, he headed toward the other giant leather recliner at the far end of the bus.
Nikki could have sworn he saw Izzy’s lips twitch amused at Mick’s remark. He shrugged. Once he was sure the intoxicated guitarist had fallen into a soft blanket of slumber, he slid into Mick’s unoccupied spot at the table. He kicked one boot, then the other onto the table, crossing them as he leaned back. He had a small smug pout on his lips and draped an arm over the back of the bench. Izzy gazed out the window unmoved or undisturbed by the bassist’s appearance. Nikki wasn’t sure if he wanted to slap him or kiss him. Whichever way the wind blew he would go there, he supposed.
“You’re a little one sided on emotions, you know,” Nikki said with a tiny hint of amusement.
“How so?” Izzy asked still entranced in the never-ending sea of corn that whirled by the window.
“You don’t react,” Nikki informed him. “To anything.”
“Shook you up to see the love birds go at each other’s throats?” Nikki blinked at the detached voice. “That’s one of their more contained fights really. You should see them when they think no one’s watching.”
“You must watch them a lot. Gets you hot.” Izzy gave a laugh. It was small, but Nikki patted himself on the back for cracking Izzy’s shell for that split second.
“I guess about as much as you or your band would or do. I live with them you know.”
“You’re okay with them fighting then?”
“It’s their relationship not mine.”
“Ever been in something like that?”
“Once. Something like that,” Izzy said preoccupied. Nikki arched a brow at the subtle and abrupt openness of the guitarist.
“So since you live with them, what did they just start fighting about? They didn’t say more than two words to each other and they set each other off like fucking dynamite.”
“Nothing so blatantly superficial as a bad word between them. It’s the odd interworking of what makes that relationship tick. Too bad it’s also a time bomb that goes off without warning. Why so interested?” Izzy’s hands had grown restless. He tapped them on the table, wrung them, and balled them into fists only to lay them flat on the polished wood. He needed something, Nikki thought, a cig, a guitar, a bottle, a Nikki. That last one Nikki knew Izzy was definitely going to need.
“Slash is my friend…”
“Don’t give me that shit,” Izzy hissed mildly. He bit a nail as Nikki reached into his pocket pulling out a crumpled cigarette. He held the long white and brown cylinder under the guitarist’s nose.
“If you look at me during this conversation, I’ll give you this. It’s my last one.” Izzy turned his face for the first time to face Nikki. His eyes full and heavy, they entranced Nikki with their dark umber pools rimmed in fiery sienna. His features were sharp on his erotically gaunt face. Framed by the strings of his black mane, Nikki wanted to yank it back so as to have better access to that pale throat. His eyes descended onto Izzy’s Adam’s apple as it bobbed slightly at the sight of a cigarette.
“Fine,” Izzy said reaching out a hand. Nikki snatched away the guitarist’s prize.
“Uh-uh.” Nikki taunted twirling the cigarette under the other man’s nose as he eyed it with a ravenous hunger. “You didn’t promise or say please.”
Izzy eyed him suspiciously for a brief second and then smirked vaguely as he gave a soft snort. “Please, Nikki.” He stretched the please out into a small meek little whine that bordered cutesy. “If you put that stick in my mouth and light me up I promise I’ll stare into your warm green eyes forever.”
Nikki froze his spine, snapping forward as if someone had just smacked him hard on the back. Izzy reached over, snatching the cigarette from the befuddled bassist’s fingers. Nikki grinned wide as the tricky brunette slunk back into the wooden back of the bench. He didn’t necessarily pout, but he wasn’t mad either.
“You’ve got a few tricks up your sleeve, huh.”
“Always works on Duff.”
“You two together?”
“Yeah. We’re in the same band.”
“I mean you two fucking.”
“What’s it to you?” A foreboding chill descended over the guitarist’s penetrating brown eyes.
“Curious question.” Nikki shrugged trying to look nonchalant. The right side of Izzy’s mouth twitched upward into a mock smile as he turned his face away to stare at the interior of the bus. “Nu-uh.” Nikki growled grabbing the sinewy man’s jaw in one powerful hand, jerking the guitarist’s chin back, centering the smaller man’s face on his own. “You promised to actually look at me during this conversation. Now you have a choice: I can hold your jaw and you can talk through my hand or I can let you go and you keep those fucking eyes focused on me. Take your pick.”
“I’ll look at you. Now lemme go,” Izzy said between Nikki’s fingers. With a soft grunt, Nikki released him. Izzy rubbed his jaw slightly.
“Good.” Nikki gave an impish smirk when Izzy attempted to light his cigarette. The lighter sparked, but nothing came of the sparks.
“Bend over.” Izzy’s eyes widened for a split second, but his body shifted back more noticeably. Nikki grinned as he flicked his own lighter open keeping it low on the table. Izzy grinned as he bent over the small flame. Nikki risked bending over Izzy’s head inhaling his prey’s scent. It was musky, with traces of smoke, gin and fresh air laced together into a heavenly bouquet that filled his nostrils with an enthralling sensation of bliss. He flicked Izzy’s smooth chin as he pulled back from the flame. A thick plume of smoke wafted from Izzy’s puckered ruby lips, coiling into a lazed smile, as he stared at the Crue bassist with the intensity of a cobra.
“Do you ever answer questions?” Nikki asked enjoying the guitarist’s gaze on him.
“Sure I do. Hey, I just answered your question.” Izzy flicked the ashes away.
“Let’s play a game,” Nikki announced abruptly, causing mild shock to pass over Izzy’s eyes. “We each ask three questions. You tell me the truth. I tell you the truth.”
“All right,” Izzy said never breaking eye contact. He took another drag off his cigarette before cocking his head. “What’s off limits?”
“No limits. Anything goes. Think you can handle it?” Nikki said coyly. Izzy gave a curt nod. “You start.” He smiled when Izzy hissed under his breath.
“Do you play this little game with everyone or just me?”
Mm, Nikki liked that question - it was loaded with double and secretive meanings that could be twisted any which way. No matter how he answered, he could twist his meaning later, once his words were exposed, with the utmost care.
“I only play with people who are worth my time,” Nikki said coolly. “My turn. Who’s your favorite band?”
“Aerosmith, Led Zeppelin, Alice Cooper,” Izzy responded bewildered at such a shallow question. Nikki was pleased with his choice of bands and indicated with a soft gesture to urge Izzy into his turn.
Izzy righted his face before asking, “Who out of your band is a top and who’s a bottom?”
“What kind of a question is that?” Nikki said laughing.
“A question you said you would answer honestly.” Izzy said point blank.
“Well, Vince is a bottom. Mick I’ve never really asked. Tommy’s, well, T-Bone’s more of a knees type of guy.” That earned Nikki a serene smirk.
“And you?” Nikki gave a mild scowl at Izzy’s follow up question.
“I asked about your band. You’re in your own band aren’t you?” Nikki shrugged.
“Top I suppose. Then again I’ve never found anyone who’s denied me to penetrate them.” Nikki’s flash of teeth was wicked.
Izzy stared. His eyes had never left the bassist since his chin had been released. Nikki liked that he could watch him. The guitarist’s body was placid, but his eyes snarled and hissed. Behind those sparkling irises, his brain calculated each and every move as if he were playing chess. Nikki couldn’t wait to crawl into his brain to rework the clogs into a machine that was focused only for him.
“Hmm, well to shoot back - what’s your band?”
“I assumed you’d be able to figure that one out yourself.” Izzy frowned shrugging as he stubbed the end of his cigarette. He held up his hand. “But I’ll answer. Axl’s a bottom, but don’t tell him I told you that or I won’t get any sleep for the rest of my life. Slash is a top mostly, but he likes a good rim job from time to time. Duff is versatile and the non-committed type. Steven goes every which way, but he’s great on his knees.” Nikki leaned his head forward warning the guitarist to continue to keep speaking. “And me. Well, I guess I’m in the same boat as you. They just roll over the second they see me.” His lips drew up in a complacent smirk.
“I think you told me a few things I didn’t know.” Nikki said nodding his head. “It’s your turn to ask.”
“Do you want Duff?”
Nikki came close to slapping him. After this fun little cat and mouse game of words, he had the nerve to ask him if he wanted that gangly blonde excuse as a replacement for Tommy! Fuck him! He fought his anger swallowing it. It went down his throat hard.
“No, don’t tell me he wants me,” Nikki said trying to play it cool.
“Is that your final question you want to ask me?” Izzy said with wicked satisfaction.
“Everyone wants me. Why would I waste my last question on that?” Nikki tossed back at the smart-alec guitarist. “What power do you have over Axl that Slash doesn’t?”
“Liked that, did you?” Izzy’s eyes lit up with naïve excitement.
“Answer the question,” Nikki said impatiently.
“Slash! Goddamit, Slash, help me!” A strangled high-pitched, frightened scream rang out from the closed half broken door, before Izzy could reply. The curly haired guitarist threw open the door, throwing himself into the other with all of his strength, breaking the wood into thousands of pieces and flying splinters.
“Axl. Axl!” Slash said grabbing hold of his singer, cradling him in his arms. “Aw, come on fucker, don’t cry. Come on. Don’t. Don’t cry.” The singer coughed and stuttered as if he was about to cry, but the tears never came. He just shook badly. A collected Izzy silently strolled into the room, sitting with his knees drawn up into himself beside his band mates. He motioned with his head, urging Nikki and the rudely aroused Mick to the other room. Grimly, Nikki obeyed, following the lethargic guitarist.
“What did the two of you talk about?” Nikki asked, the second Mick dropped into another chair after closing the door.
“When?”
“Earlier, before you passed out.”
“Oh,” Mick said thoughtfully as if coming out of deep contemplation. Making Nikki even more impatient. “Guitar strings.”
“Guitar strings.”
“Yeah. He wanted to know if he could borrow some of mine. Slash apparently keeps stealing his.”
“That’s it?” Nikki looked at him incredulously.
“He starred out the window most of the time and I was drunk. Still am,” Mick said calmly. “Want my opinion?”
“Do I have a choice?” Nikki growled softly, like a frustrated lion.
“The guitarist’s got some sort of history with the other Gunners. If I were to guess, it would be something with Duff or Slash.”
“No. If it’s anyone, it’s Axl.”
“Why do you say him?”
“Axl was the one who just split us up. Fucking prima donna.”
“Whom did he cry out for though?”
“Slash, but Slash is too into…”
“Quit thinking like a kid, Nikki. Think this through. Why would Axl break you up by using Slash to do it? If Axl had a history with Izzy, he would have done it himself. He’s hot tempered. It wouldn’t fool Izzy - he’s too clever to not notice what Axl would be trying to do.” Mick’s gaze was even, the drunken mist lifting from his eyes. “It’s Slash, Nikki. I don’t know what it is, but I can tell there’s something unresolved between the two.”
“Why can’t you just be like Tommy and suck me off?” Nikki asked dismissively. He wanted to strangle Mick. He reminded him of another raven-haired rock god that tried to conquer him. That man was still on his mind even though he was miles and miles and oceans of corn away from him.
“You never asked,” Mick said as if he were reprimanding a child.
“What?” Nikki’s eyes flashed wide. “You’d actually do it?”
“No,” Mick said with the same level of calmness. “I give good rim jobs though.”
Well I guess Mick is more of an ass man, Nikki thought. Fuck, or a tongue man.
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