Categories > Celebrities > Guns n' Roses > Concrete Jungle Gym

Anything Goes

by SADIS 6 reviews

That was Indiana rain in the summer. He remembered the rain in winter the best, cold and unforgiving showers that destroyed the radiance of spring and summer.

Category: Guns n' Roses - Rating: R - Genres: Crossover,Erotica,Humor - Warnings: [X] - Published: 2013-03-24 - Updated: 2013-03-27 - 3915 words

I apologize it's not really new, but I edited a few things I missed and changed the title. I'm so sorry! I'll try not to let this happen again!

Duff threw his shoulder one last time into the door. Splinters flew from the chipped wood as it shuddered open with trepidation. He stumbled forward almost landing on his knees if not for Axl quickly grabbing his arm.

“Thanks,” Duff turned to him, smiling sheepishly. “Door always sticks so don’t be afraid to manhandle it a bit. Just watch your step.”

Axl nodded as they walked into the room. Duff’s apartment was a one-room studio with a pile of blankets stacked in the corner amongst two homemade pillows of rags. A small sink sat idly in the corner with a tiny mirror that had been ripped off a car door, above it. On the far side of the room a chair rescued from someone’s back alley lay exhausted against the one small window. Several old t-shirts dangled across the dust-glazed panes serving as curtains.
The walls were tarnished and beginning to yellow from cigarette ash and age. A few sparse punk rock concert posters adorned various corners. Clothes, jewelry, and other items littered the floor. Duff quickly shuffled the affects to one side with his boot, clearing a path on the hard stained floor.

“My roommate hasn’t left just yet, but he’s staying with his girlfriend until he heads out to New York,” Duff explained, motioning to the clear spot for Axl to sit and unpack. “The bathroom’s down the hall. It’s a community shower, but it has stalls. Not many use it really and sometimes they turn the water off, but not often. Oh, and you’re welcome to the closet.”
He pulled back a tall door that had a huge crack running down the center. It creaked and swayed outward as he drew it to the side revealing a bare cavern.

“Careful when you open it. The hinges were broken when I started renting this place,” Duff said, kicking an odd shaped piece of wood on the floor. “I’ve finally gotten enough dough to do laundry which is why my clothes aren’t in here. I just haven’t had a chance to get down to the laundry mat.”

“So you’re a musician?” Axl asked as he placed his suitcase in the closet. His movements were stiff and rigid, watching the foreign entity warily.

“Yeah! Well at least I want to be. Right now I’ve got a part time job as an appetizer server downtown. I had a gig last night at a club. The house band needed a bass player and I knew one of the waitresses so I got the gig.”

“You play bass?”

“And drums and guitar. I want to get in a band and make a life for myself in music.”
Axl nodded and almost dropped a shirt he had picked up as he maneuvered trough the maze of debris.

“Do you play an instrument?” Duff smiled, lying against his frayed leather guitar case.

“No,” Axl said his voice cracked. It came out high pitched and harsh. He softened his tone when he noticed the kind and curious eyes watching him. “Well, I can play piano and I sing a little. At least I did when I was in the choir back home.”

“Hey, cool. We should get some guys together and start a band. You’re probably a kick ass singer if you’re voice can crack that high.” Duff beamed, but Axl blushed. The red head tried to scowl to cover up his embarrassment at allowing his voice to squeak. “Uh, no offense man.”

“Okay. Yeah. Maybe.”

“Sure we should,” Duff said, snapping off his fourth beer from the six-pack they had bought. It took most of Duff’s paycheck, but he didn’t care as he slammed back half the can. “We’ll start first thing tomorrow.” He yawned.

“It is tomorrow,” Axl pointed out. Turning back around he found Duff fast asleep against the wall. Begrudgingly a slight smile spread over Axl’s sun illuminated face as Duff began to snore softly. He cuddled his the remaining beers like a teddy bear.

Something still bothered Axl. It was the man in the leather trench. His face was gaunt almost hallow like a skeleton drawn from the depths of that hellish night. Yet there was a familiarity that he couldn’t get over. That stupid fucking feeling was the only thing that stopped him from decking the drug-dealing bastard, that and Duff intervening.

Looking down, Axl realized he had taken his cross off and was now rubbing it between his thumb and forefinger. The tiny faded gold glittered like the irises of the impish man. Axl’s lips moved silently as he placed the religious trinket against his chin. Sighing to himself, he placed a chaste kiss to the necklace before refastening it around his neck.

Duff snorted, shifting in his sleep. Axl’s critical eyes ran over the elongated body searching for signs of consciousness. Duff seemed dead to the world as his bare torso rose and fell. Lying down next to him, Axl closed his eyes trying to block out the haunting apparition that loomed in his brain.

In the middle of the night Duff awoke to a heavy warmth on top of him. Opening one eye his vision was blocked by a sea of coppery red that blazed in the sunlight. It was Axl from the bus. Duff smiled happily that the guy hadn’t left or tried to mug him for that matter. He was rather drunk when he offered Axl a place to stay, but he was glad he did. Duff nestled farther down against the wall, closing his eyes, as he was lulled to sleep by another’s breathing.

Across town on the other side of Sunset Boulevard lived a house of quiet proportions. A ranch style house serenely set in the dewy morning light. The kind old porch swing, glided back and forth in the benign morning wind as the neighbor’s wind chimes clanged together in a rich harmony of melancholy peace.

“Fuck those chimes,” Slash grumbled, clutching his head. He tugged hard at his hair, trying to drown out the sound with pain. With a dull thud, he rolled off the couch to crawl underneath, but he bumped into a large blonde dust ball or rather Steven’s fluffy blonde head. “Steven, what the hell are you doing here?”

“Sleeping, dumbass.” Steven mumbled, burying his head deeper into his arms.

“Well, move over, fucker. I’m trying to escape those fucking wind chimes,” Slash whined, pushing Steven’s shoulder.

“Turn off the light first, asshole,” Steven hissed back. He kicked Slash out of the safety of the couch. Slash growled. Catching the drummer’s ankle, he hauled him out into the burning sun. “What the hell, man! I made money last night leave me alone!”

“Oh, good. You’re both up,” Izzy said, tossing a leg over the sofa then the other to perch on the back. Arms resting on his tight black jeans, he peered down at the squabbling twosome.
“I’m not going shopping right now fucker it’s too early,” Slash whined.

“You should go to school. You haven’t been for two weeks,” Steven reprimanded, pointing a finger at Slash. “And they keep assigning me to bring your homework home. Those books are damn heavy”

“Mom! When did you die your hair blonde? Is this a mid life crisis?” Slash asked, swaying a bit. Steven tried to crawl back under the couch.

“You went to school?” Izzy asked, dragging Steven out from under the couch by the waistband of his pants.

“Wait, I have homework?” Slash asked the concept foreign to him.

“Where are the textbooks?” Izzy probed further as Slash prevented the sleepy Steven from hiding under the couch again.

“That’s what I’ve been trying to tell you,” Steven said, beaming. Jumping to his feet, he immediately groaned as his head pounded harder from the sudden rise in elevation. He fell backwards onto the couch sprawled between Izzy’s legs. Holding his head, Steven squinted and pointed at Slash. “I sold your textbooks last night.”

“How much?” Izzy asked his brain already beginning to calculate money.

“I have textbooks?” Slash asked still completely bewildered, his mouth hung slightly agape.

“Not anymore. Made myself twenty bucks off your history book alone. They’re almost as good as selling drugs.”

“Look we need to go window shopping for some new gear if we’re going to try forming a band again.” Izzy informed the toxic twins as he counted Steven’s money. “Your guitar sounds like shit. And you can’t get by with Tupper Ware anymore.”

“Fuck you, fucker! No one can even hear your bass,” Slash growled. “I better go to school before they call my other Mom.” Slash dismissed padding lazily to the mirror. He tugged at his hair once before embarking on a quest to find his shoes.

“She still dating Bowie?”

“Shut the fuck up,” Slash hissed softly.

“Fuck school man,” Izzy growled, spinning around the back of the couch and onto his feet. Crossing the room in swift pointed strides, he glared hard at Slash. “We need to get serious about this.”

“Damn, fucker I don’t always go to class. I’m usually playing my guitar in the bathroom anyway. I just gotta go to keep up appearances and shit.” Slash wafted silently to the door. He could feel Izzy’s determined gaze burning through the back of his skull. “Why don’t you go lift our stuff and we’ll jam later? Stevie you coming?”

The blonde moaned but dragged himself off the couch.

“Fucking, kids,” Izzy spat, pushing past the smaller boy. His boots clicked against the asphalt ignoring the moaning cries from behind him. Continuing down the L.A. suburban road, he ignored the awkward stares he received from more acceptable members of the human race who lived on Slash’s street.

Izzy knew they could make it big. They could be amazing, but he wished those two had more ambition. Slash had it in him when he wasn’t stoned. Izzy couldn’t be too hard on him really. He did more than his share of drugs and he supplied them to those two. Steven had the right spunk if he could ever get his act together and maybe ditch his love of KISS.
Turning a corner, Izzy found himself in a completely new part of town. One cast in shadow. The only sunlight allowed in was burnt orange, and haggard as if happiness had been sucked out of its soul. Ghoulish lies and secrets whispered in the wind taunting and tempting. The rancid underbelly looked as though it were painted with a cheap layer of white paint trying to mask the inevitable darkness.

A splash of water hit Izzy’s ankle. Peering down, he noticed he was ankle deep in a pothole filled with rainwater. Numerous puddles flooded the street turning it into a swamp. He had been awake all night and yet never saw or heard a single drop of rain, but it looked as though it had been a downpour.

He squatted down, noticing his reflection. Harsh lines lined his eyes and mouth. Drugs did not treat him well unless he was high then he was perfect. It was the only time he felt perfect or at the minimum okay.

A random bitter wind swept through his bones as he started scratching his arms. The remnants of a rainstorm and the promise of a brewing storm hung in the hollow echo of the breeze. L.A. rain wasn’t like Indiana rain. It was hotter, almost steamy, like the heart of a rainforest jungle. Like thick underbrush you had to fight your way through or allow yourself to be consumed by the painful heat that filled your lungs until there was nowhere left to breath except death’s kiss.

That was Indiana rain in the summer, but it wasn’t that way year round. He remembered the rain in winter the best, cold and unforgiving showers that destroyed the radiance of spring and summer. It was either torrential downpours or long lasting droughts of heavy humid air that made your skin weep and crawl in desperation for the river of life.

As he looked at himself, a memory of a night of Indiana rain in late November came back to him. One he hadn’t thought of in a while. Either it was Thanksgiving or a couple days after, he didn’t want to remember. It was late or early in the night depending on what time you went to bed, or woke up. A slim body pressed against him on his bed, seeking refuge even in his dreams.

Leaked tears had striped William’s pale cheeks his slender hand curled into the collar of Jeff’s night t-shirt. A thumb gently pressed against Jeff’s collarbone. Jeff kissed it. William snuggled harder, drawing closer to his side.

Jeff shushed him telling him that the sun would only shine tomorrow if he smiled. Despite the roaring thunder outside his childhood window, the tension was fading in the frail body beside him as it swiftly and painfully became one with Jeff’s. He smiled his fingers brushing softly against William’s damp shoulders.

Now Izzy shook his head aggressively trying to free himself from the imprisonment of the happy memory. He kicked the puddle hard in a futile attempt to bring him back into his present abyss. That was two fucking years ago. Fuck, I can’t, can I? Izzy thought. Spying a familiar apartment, he spryly climbed the twisting vines and somersaulted through the open fifth floor window. He strolled along the corridor until he found room number six.
He rang the doorbell five times in succession, knocked three times, rang it once again and waited. Foot tapping, he crossed his arms while he waited. Soft thuds, a scuffle, and a few choice heated words droned from behind the door. It swung open with a mild shuddering vibration sending flecks of cheap paint to all sides. A short blonde smiled up at him.
“Hi there.” Her voice had a trace of an accent and her lips peeled up into a radiant smile. Izzy gave her a curt nod, his eyes looking around her to find a slim man stalking her.
“Aw, you have to leave so soon?” The naked man wrapped an arm around the clothed girl’s waist. His torso was lean with soft ripples of muscle along his flat toned belly. Izzy’s eyes followed his happy trail to the button to his more promising and hidden bits. He only wore a cowboy hat that was smashed on top of his untamed dirty coal black hair. She moaned softly, but pushed him away.

“Got to get to work.” She kissed him. “Help yourself to anything in the fridge while I’m gone. And you.” She placed a single manicured finger on Izzy’s chest. “Should stick around and the three of us can have a little fun later.” With a wink, she strutted down the hall in long determined strides, head held high. The man draped himself against the jagged edges of the doorframe, eyes glued to the fading blonde.

“Since when do you drool over women, cowboy?”

The cowboy snapped his head to Izzy. His eyes bugged out as if he had just realized the guitarist was standing there. His cowboy hat almost fell off his head as he jerked against the door. Izzy bit back a laugh, as the other looked excited, aroused, and embarrassed. It seemed like the cowboy didn’t know which one he should be at the moment.

“Since you fucking quit coming over, Stradlin,” the cowboy replied hautily, pushing the hat down atop Izzy’s head. Izzy quickly worked to remove it. “We fuck a lot. We take a break. You want to join my band. You don’t want to join my band. You want to sell your drugs, I buy your drugs. We do your drugs and I finally get to fuck you again. You whisper to me I’m one hot piece of shit. Then you don’t want to talk to me. You stop answering my phone calls.”
Izzy stepped forward and seized the shorter man’s wrists in one hand. He twirled him around like a tango dancer before slamming him into the rickety door, effectively shutting it. Izzy drew the other’s hands up above his head as he started to grind his lean hips against the other’s naked flesh.

“Shut that pretty little mouth of yours, Tracii,” Izzy growled lustfully. Swiftly he drew Tracii onto his chest, causing Tracii to arch on tiptoe. Fastening the other guitarist’s long sinewy arms around his waist, Izzy kissed him hard. Tracii pushed back breaking their lips apart.

“Are you high?”

“I wish,” Izzy said with a feigned sigh, “But I can’t stay away from you for too long. You know that, pretty boy.” Tracii grinned impishly as he shoved the cowboy hat back down on Izzy’s head.

“Then let’s fucking party, Izzy-bell!”

“Don’t call me that.” Izzy’s eyes narrowed.

Tracii just snickered as he walked Izzy deeper into the apartment backwards by his belt. He started kissing him, as he bent Izzy over the back of the couch. His thumb dipped beneath the black denim running a blunt nail over Izzy’s hidden supple skin. Izzy groaned, arching forward.

“Like that?” Tracii asked.

“Just like, that,” Izzy exhaled, cupping the back of Tracii’s head bringing him closer to his body. He bit and sucked the other boy’s bottom lip and cheek. Tracii’s ragged breath was a humid hiss against his cheek. “Lower.”

Tracii smirked at the lusty command, which he was all too happy to fulfill. With an exaggerated sweep of his head Tracii slunk down Izzy’s chest. Placing gentle kisses and even smaller nips to Izzy’s torso as he worked the buttons of the other boy’s shirt off one at a time. Izzy groaned as the hot wet lips and pointed teeth grazed his skin that left a trail of red in their wake. Izzy braced himself on the couch so he could shove the guitarist’s head down faster. Tracii shook Izzy’s greedy hands out of his hair. Cheekily he placed his head against Izzy’s hip nuzzling the shirttail up the his belly.

“Want it fast today?” Tracii grinned against Izzy’s navel his eyes, peeking up to meet Izzy’s hooded eyes.

“What do you think?” Izzy hissed, but it came out a ragged whisper as Tracii’s tongue swirled his navel tickling inside before kissing it. He raised one of his trembling legs as the pleasure rocked through his calf muscles, placing his foot on Tracii’s shoulder.

“If you want it fast then you have to say, pretty please, pretty one,” Tracii taunted, pulling away from Izzy’s grasp.

With a growl, the other quickly grabbed him. Without ceremony, Izzy yanked him down onto his chest. Tracii placed a hand out to catch them before they both fell, but he only succeeded in spluttering as his mouth was attacked. He arched, whimpering against Izzy’s teasing fingers that tickled along his lower belly, searching for just the right spot. It was too much. Tracii’s resolve broke and they both tumbled to the floor with a loud thud. Izzy held his throbbing head, and Tracii groaned, but recovered quicker. Mounting, Izzy’s hips, he placed both hands on the tops of Tracii’s unbuttoned jeans.

“Relax, babe. I got you covered,” Tracii purred as he set to work, using his mouth to pull the other’s pants the rest of the way.

That voice was the same deep wild purr that made Izzy’s head feel light, and saturated with lust the first time they had slept together. It vaguely reminded him of that deep guttural voice from years ago. When the owner was happy. Tracii rubbed circles over Izzy’s hipbones, slowly moving further down his body to reveal more tantalizing skin.

Izzy kicked his jeans off his last leg as Tracii moved his succulent mouth back up. Izzy arched his back as his fingers tried to dig into the floor. Using pain to fight off his memories of years ago and enjoy the present. The slimmer body, the creamy skin, the fine hands that seemed so eager to explore every inch of him. The closeness of their bodies seeking and finding the other in between the sheets only to…no! Yes! Tracii reached up, pushing Izzy’s hands into his hair. Puzzled, Izzy looked down.

“Hold on to me,” Tracii whispered, threading Izzy’s hand in his hair. The greasy strands instantly tangled around Izzy’s nimble fingers and he gave a sharp tug. Tracii hummed teasingly against the flesh beside Izzy’s crotch, enjoying the hard tugs of his hair. The vibrations sent Izzy into a frenzied tailspin as his hips shot forward. His belly hit Tracii’s cold nose, adding new waves of shivers to transcend his spine.

Tracii smirked before coyly wrapping his tongue around Izzy’s hardened flesh. His wet tongue sawed against the underside wiggling it against his balls. He drew away only to lap at the base like an eager puppy while petting Izzy’s thighs, drawing gentle circles in his pubic hair.

“Faster, ah fuck,” Izzy cursed between heavy moans of pleasure. Tracii pouted against his skin, nuzzling it as he gazed sideways.

“That’s not the magic word, but fine. You’re not much fun today anyway.” Before Izzy could make a snarky remark, Tracii engulfed his entire length, literally pulling every drop of the bitter liquid from his erection. Sucking hard, Tracii brought his mouth back up the shaft to the base before humming his way back down the hardened flesh, tugging more and more. Izzy kicked the floor with his boot as he moaned and screamed, coming hard and fast into Tracii’s mouth.

With a soft pop Tracii pulled back. A satiated grin plastered on his face. A thin sheen of sweat covered Izzy’s throbbing chest spasms of aftershock raked his body as he panted for air. He snuggled deeper between Izzy’s spent thighs, resting his head on the panting chest. He peered up at the breathless guitarist.

“So are we boyfriends again, sexy?” Tracii snickered against Izzy’s quivering thigh, kissing it softly.

“Yeah, sure. Yes.”

“Wonderful,” Tracii laughed, flicking his lighter open. He lit two cigarettes in his mouth and passed one to Izzy once the paper had caught. “What brought this on? Get dumped by a girl again or no guy wanted to fuck you?”

Izzy smashed the abandoned cowboy hat back down on the younger boy’s head. Tracii laughed and peeked out from underneath the brim. A serpentine stream of smoke passed between his lips as his tongue swiped the remaining drops of Izzy’s cum off his still bare penis.
“I think I saw an old friend from back home. He just got to the jungle.”
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