FicWad

Axl took a long, hard drag from his cigarette, watching with uncaring eyes as the bar's patrons continued to make fools of themselves in public. He followed each one meticulously and routinely while setting his soft lips into a thin line. It was demeaning to him, having to share a bar with drunkards that could not even walk a straight line the length of two feet. He hated it, immensely. But he was bored, very bored; to the point that even degradation was necessary in quenching his thirst for excitement. Axl observed quietly as a hopelessly drunk man tried to pick himself up from off the ground using the corner of the bar counter. Of course, this task was near impossible for the poor man, considering he could not even recognize the hands that were but a mere inch from his face. Axl smiled sadistically as the man continued to trip and fall after each attempt to stand up.

"What a fool..." The red-head shook his head in pity before taking a final drag of his withering cigarette. After making sure he had drained his fag of all life, he dropped it onto the ground and stepped on it casually, without remorse or passion. Axl dug his hands into his pockets, making his way out of the lifeless bar. He stealthily pushed past a drunken couple snogging profanely at the entrance and then made his way to the subway. As he continued to venture farther out from the center of the city, the amount of glowing neon lights and beeping signs only seemed to grow smaller and smaller. The cold air whipped his face relentlessly, motivating Axl to move faster. After walking the last few blocks, he finally came to find the entrance of the subway. He hurriedly traveled down the stairs into the lobby where he was met with the pungent stench of piss hanging provocatively in the dimly lit air. Axl shuffled to the counter, pulling out the remnants of money he had left over from the bar.

"May I help you?" asked the tired old man from behind the glass window. Axl looked up from his pockets and gave him a small smile.

"Yeah. Can I get a ticket to Torrance, sir," the singer requested politely. The old man just sighed, his glasses falling farther off his nose. He pressed a red button on a small machine to his left. The machine, after processing the request, quickly ejected a small, square ticket from out of a slot. The man ripped the ticket from the mouth of the machine and handed it to Axl. Axl smiled. "Thanks," he said before walking to the edge that separated the subway train from the walkway.

The red-head shivered in the unforgiving cold of the subway station, waiting silently. A few moments passed, yet the lobby remained quiet. Then, apprehensively, the subway finally made its loud entrance into the station, the screams of the rails piercing the heavy air. Axl watched as the train slowed to a long halt and proceeded to walk past the automatic doors into the small, cramped cart. He found a small seat in the corner next to the rows of different colored gum and vulgar writings scrawled messily in permanent marker. The cart was completely barren, save for a somewhat tall and dark man sitting in the far right corner. Axl looked him up and down almost cautiously.

The shady man was sitting with a demeanor that reeked strongly of nonchalance, his legs spread apart and his feet pointing opposite directions. He was slouching with his elbows resting on his lap and his hands dangling underneath his legs. The man had completely immersed himself in black clothes. His shirt was black, his leather jacket was black, his fingerless gloves were black, his jeans were black, his cowboy boots were black, the bandana wrapped around his neck was black, even his hair was black. His hair was one of his more interesting qualities. It was thick, long, and very curly, surrounding his face so that all that could be seen were his plump lips and his flat nose, complete with a small silver nose ring. His eyes were not at all visible, so it was difficult for Axl to tell what the man was thinking or feeling, which was a bit more bothersome than the red-head would have preferred. Axl continued to stare at him from the corner of his eye, his grimace only deepening with each passing moment. The subway had started moving, but the red-head was not aware, nor did he care. He kept his gaze and mind fixed solely on the man sitting diagonally from him. The singer couldn’t understand why at all he felt the strong need to keep his eyes on the man at all times. He was almost afraid that if he dared to look away, the dark man would do something. Axl of course wasn’t afraid of the thought of the man doing something, he was apprehensive of what the man would do if ever he was to do something. The singer chuckled silently to himself. This man didn’t pose a threat. What was Axl being, ridiculous? Of course he was.

The red-head turned away from the dark man across the cart and began to stare at the fast-moving wall. He scrutinized the windows of the subway, making it a point to denounce the corners of the windowsills for not being cleaned properly. After staring at the walls of the subway tunnel, he turned his head to steal a quick glance at the dark man sitting in the corner opposite him. When Axl looked to the bench he was seated at, he was stunned to find that the man was gone. The red-head looked right and left rapidly. Where is he?

“Hey,” said a soft, coarse voice. Axl froze in place. He turned his head slowly to the direction of the voice. He was then met with the face of the dark man. The singer remained silent, his eyes wide and pupils dilated.

“What do you want?” Axl sneered, backing up against the wall. The man only moved closer to the red-head, making Axl very anxious.

“Your name’s Axl Rose, right?” the man asked curiously. Axl just stared.

“What’s it to you?” Axl retorted rudely, turning his head away.

“That’s what I thought. I heard you had a bitchin’ voice, man. Oh, my name’s Slash, by the way. Nice to meet you,” Slash stuck out his hand to shake Axl’s. The red-head looked at him skeptically before tentatively taking the other man’s hand in his. This man named Slash had very rough hands. They were very calloused and bruised.

“You play guitar?” Axl asked unintentionally. Slash gave a small smile.

“Yeah. I play lead,” he said modestly, still shaking the red-head’s hand.

“Really? My friend plays rhythm,” Axl said, continuing to shake Slash’s hand as well.

“That’s pretty chill,” Slash commented. Both men then realized that they were still shaking each other’s hands. They both pulled away at the same instant. “Sorry, man,” Slash apologized.

“Forget about it,” the red-head smiled with Slash shyly returning the favor. “Where are you headed?” Axl asked.

“Torrance,” the dark-haired man replied.

“Same,” the singer said.

“No way?” Slash questioned. He sat silently for a moment as he pondered. “You know, my friend and I were planning on heading out to pick up some drinks and shit at the Roxy. You want to join?” he asked almost timidly as he let his tongue venture out from his mouth to lick his chapped lips.

“Sure,” Axl chuckled. Slash’s smile grew immensely.

“Awesome,” he let out before pulling out a beat up cell phone from his pocket and beginning to text rapidly. “You’re going to love my friend. He’s such a fucking party, I swear,” Slash said as he continued to stare at his phone’s bright screen.

“I bet,” the singer said, watching the lobby of the Torrance subway station slowly come to head. Well, this should be fun. Axl smiled as he and Slash promptly exited the train and made their way to the city. Very fun.

Author's Note: I don't know if I'm going to continue this. This stupid story was supposed to be all smut, and then it ended up like this. God damn it. Oh well. I'll try not to fail so badly next time. I'll probably delete this later.