FicWad

We pulled into New Orleans a few days ago. The car slid along the streets of the French Quarter, looking for somewhere to stop for the night. We took in the sights, sounds and smells. Mardi Gras was in full swing when we arrived and people dressed in a kaleidoscope of colours peered in at us. Some waved, some smiled. Some just gave us the creeps. We were in a whole different world to LA.

Our apartment is nothing really to write home about. It's not even really an apartment, more of a glorified room above a little blues bar. It's pretty much like Izzy's old apartment except with a much better view. Hell, we even have a balcony! It's great to sit out there in the balmy evening, listening to the music floating up to us as people party and the rich scent of southern cooking wafts over us.

And man, am I ever loving the cooking! It really is soul food and I can feel myself getting better and growing stronger. I'm beginning to live and love again. Never has Izzy looked so good to me. Never has he looked so beautiful and so ethereal. As he stands in the corner of the bar, guitar strapped over him and fingers plucking the blues, I can only stand and wonder why he's stayed with me for so long.

As I polish glasses, my eyes follow Izzy. He stands in a dark corner, eyes closed as he sways to the music he's making. Beautiful, sweet and slightly melancholy blues. In the low lit bar, a few people sit at small tables, smoke gliding into the air. Barely anyone talks, bar to order drinks, all as captivated as I am.

The owner of the club took pity on us, letting us take over the unused stock rooms above it. We appreciate the gesture and, in return, work for him. I serve drinks to the slow moving patrons beneath the light of flickering neon signs while Izzy entertains them with his equally lazy licks.

We're off the beaten track, hidden away from the main drag of Bourbon Street. Only those that are in the know hunt us out. Sometimes stragglers find us, but it's a rarity.

One such straggler is sat by the stage, eyes following Izzy's every move. Red hair, that looks a dark, deep copper in the dim light, is brushed over their slender shoulders, twitching as they occasionally sway with the music. They're dressed entirely in black, delicate lace hanging from their waif like arms while velvet trousers encase their long legs. If I hadn't seen the gentle swell of their breasts as they walked past me, I'd have been more worried. A hell of a lot more worried.

Placing a glass on the counter, I smile as I hear Izzy's husky voice begin to hum the lyrics to a long forgotten song.

There is a house in New Orleans...
... They call the Rising Sun ...
... And it's been the ruin of many a poor boy...
... And God I know I'm one...

I look up and notice him smiling at the girl. My heart twitches as she stands, swaying a little, captivated. In the next instant, the glass I'm holding shatters on the tiles as she presses her lips against his. Yet he never stops playing. What may have been a fleeting second in the real world is an eternity in mine as the kiss seems to linger. Then Izzy nudges her away with his toes and shakes his head with an embarrassed smile. I see him mouth /sorry/, his eyes flicking to mine. Her eyes follow his and I find myself under a painful glare. I try and smile, giving her a tiny wave, but the damage is already done.

Well, I got one foot on the platform..
... The other foot on the train ...
... I'm goin' back to New Orleans ...
... To wear that ball and chain...

Izzy drops the guitar onto a strand, the last of his notes fading and dying in the heavy air. Stepping from the stage, he ignores the girl as he trots over to me, brushing dark hair from his eyes as he smiles.

"Hey," he whispers, leaning on the bar and gazing up at me.

I can't help but return that smile, the smile that has fixed my broken heart a million times before.

"Hey," I quietly reply as soft music begins to fill the air again. This time it comes from a stereo, hidden beneath the bar, recorded and manufactured stuff.

Turning away from him for a moment, I pluck a bottle of water from a fridge and place it in front of him. Izzy smiles and picks it up, eyes never leaving mine as he delicately places the neck to his lips and drinks. I shiver as I watch him, mind drifting to where that mouth might be later. On my lips... On my neck... On my cock...

Dropping me face, I hide behind my hair as I blush. Izzy's spent the past few nights teasing me and driving me crazy. We haven't had sex yet here in New Orleans, but it can only be around the corner. Instead I've found myself pinned to our bare mattress as he strips off and touches himself, freshly calloused fingers leaving pale red marks in their wake. Shifting from one foot to the other, I try to divert my mind away from what might happen later, placing newly cleaned glasses back on the shelves as I try to distract myself. But out of the corner of my eye, I can see her watching us. Feel her eyes boring into my head as she sends death glares into my head.

Swallowing nervously, I turn back to Izzy. Leaning my elbows on the bar, I cup his face, nudging the bottle away with my nose. My tongue darts out, licking his now wet lips before pushing between them and into the warmth of his mouth. I hear him gasp, fingers tangling in my curls as he tugs me close, the kiss becoming more hungry. The warm, soft point of Izzy's tongue pushes against my lips, encouraging me to open up. I do, sighing as his tongue drifts into my mouth, teasing and touching, making me sigh.

Eventually we pull away, just leaning our foreheads together as we stare into each others eyes. Smiles play on our lips and I flick my tongue over Izzy's lips.

"I'm gonna fuck you later..." he purrs, eyes glittering.

I chuckle and gently kiss him again, my whole body tingling with anticipation. The girl is sidling closer, hair falling into her eyes as she watches us. Pulling away, I look at her.

"Are you two," she says in a husky voice, "together?"

My eyes drop to the floor as I nod. I feel a hand in my hair and Izzy's voice answers for me, "Yes, we are. Can I help you in any way?"

The girl shrugged and smiled weakly. "I was just wonderin' if you were single." She bit her lip, looking at the floor. "Obviously not."

Izzy's sighs and I look up to see him smile. "Sorry."

He turns to me and takes my hand. "Come on, Slash. Time to clock off."

I still feel weak, still wondering if Izzy will go off with the girl. I mean, she looks like Axl. All that red hair, the slender body. She could be his sister.

Walking towards the stairs, I can feel her eyes following us. I know we're going to see her again, I can just feel it.

"D-Do you like h-her?" I quietly ask.

"No," Izzy quietly replies. "I don't like girls." He smiles at me. "I like boys. You should know that by now."

Stopping, I smile weakly at him. Looking around the dim stairwell, I suddenly feel a little happier. We're out of the way of prying eyes. Pushing Izzy up against the wall, I gently kiss him, feeling him sigh beneath me. My eyes slip shut as I begin to gently caress his mouth with mine. We press our bodies together, squirming and sliding against each other as our hands slip beneath each others clothes. More soft groans and sighs fill the tiny space. Izzy spreads his legs and I push myself between them, rubbing our groins together. I can feel him hardening beneath me, my own cock responding.

Izzy's hands come up to my head and begin to push me to my knees. "Suck me..."

Sliding to my knees, I gasp as I look up at him, his eyes as dark as I know mine are. Peeling his tight jeans from his legs, my eyes slid shut as his hard cock slides between my lips. I want to make him happy. Want to make him shiver and moan and whisper my name. It makes me happy when he does. I love him, love being around. Love having the old Izzy with me.

His hands tighten in my hair, tiny sighs filling my ears. I suck harder, wanting to pleasure him. My tongue slides along his cock, tracing the veins and ridges, remembering how it feels to have it in my mouth. And it feels nice. I love it. Love feeling it throb between my lips, love how it fills my throat. Love feeling his warm come fill my mouth.

"Slash," he whispers and I look up.

His dark eyes are glazed, tongue wetting his lips, panting quietly.

"I'm gonna come..." he whispers, head falling back against the wall.

Bobbing my head up and down, I bury my nose in his pubic hair and inhale his scent as I tighten my throat muscles around him. Above me Izzy groans and his hands tug at my hair one last time. Then hot, salty semen flows into my mouth and down my throat, droplets escaping from my lips. Swallowing, I pull back and look up at my lover. My lover... He smiles down at me, kneeling to lick the last drops from my chin. I close my eyes, sighing and letting my head drop back as his tongue teases me.

"Come on," he purrs into my ear. "Let's go to bed..."