Categories > Celebrities > Guns n' Roses > Ain't It Fun
Lita and I were sharing a recliner, me in the seat, her on the arm, guy-watching. I leaned over to her. “See any cute guys?”
She smiled. “One.”
“Who?”
She pointed over to a loveseat where a guy with teased blond hair, violent lipstick, black boots, and tight leather pants was making out with a piece of jailbait. It was Bret Michaels. I rolled my eyes. “I mean someone cute who isn’t a complete man-hoe.”
Lita frowned. “Then no.”
The sound of the front door squeaking open caught my attention. Five guys were walking in, free of all gay-like clothing. Two blond, two black haired, and one red-head and all of them were cute. I tapped Lita’s leg. “Look at those five, near the door.”
Lita followed my finger and gapped at the guys. “Where did they come from?”
I shrugged. I was staring at the one with long black hair, sunglasses, a cigarette, and a top hat. He seemed familiar, as did the short blond who reminded me of a puppy. Where had I seen them before?
Top-Hat was scanning the crowd of people when his eyes rested on me. He smiled. “Hey Triple-Six!”
My heart beat picked up and I started to scream with happiness. “Slash?” I jumped out of the chair, leaving it rocking worse than a boat in a hurricane with Lita hanging on for dear life. I ran up and hugged him. “Oh my God, what are you doing here?”
“Joe’s pretty cool with our bass player.”
“Cool as in?”
“Cool as in he hangs out with the band every once in a while.”
“You’re in a band?” I inquired, suddenly very interested. Slash, or Saul Hudson as he had been called in high school by the teachers, had been the greatest guitarist at Fairfax High School. I had always known he was destined for fame, but I thought he’d be one of those guys who just do solo riffs, like Yngwie Malmsteen.
“Yeah, with these guys,” he indicated to the mass behind him. “We’re called-“
“Riles!” a scream behind Slash sounded. Before I knew it I was being hugged by Puppy Dog. I was spitting out blond hair when he finally released me.
“Geez, Stevie. Can you try to not break my back? I kinda need it.”
“Sorry,” Steven Adler apologized bashfully. Steven had gone to Fairfax High as well. He and Slash were in the same grade, which was three below mine. Slash was being picked on during Freshmen Friday by three seniors who I knew. I called them off and instantly clicked with Slash. Then he met Steven and introduced us. All three of us were trouble-makers and loved to sneak out and hang-out on Sunset Boulevard. We were inseparable until I graduated. I was the only one of the three to get a degree from Fairfax, or any other high school for that matter.
Slash was laughing when he grabbed my shoulder. “Let me introduce you to everyone before Steven sends you to the hospital.”
“Hey! I wouldn’t do that to Riley!”
Slash swung his arm out, completely ignoring Steven, and indicated to each guy in turn. He started with the other blond. “This is Duff McKagan, he’s our bass player. This is Izzy Stradlin, our rhythm guitarist,” he continued indicating to the other black haired guy. “And this,” he lifted his hand to the red-head, “is Axl Rose, our singer.” I stopped and looked at the man in front of me. Axl, huh? He was the hottest one in the group and seemed to exude a sense of bad-assiness. I was instantly attracted to him and the way he was looking me up and down told me he was interested in me.
“And this,” Slash continued, now talking to the three, “Is my and Steven’s best gal friend from Fairfax. This is Riley Scott.”
Axl raised a single eyebrow, a sinful smile spreading across his face. I could feel my face grow hot with embarrassment. Slash looked between us and smirked. “Come on guys,” he called to the other three. “Let’s leave these two alone.”
The guys filed past me all except for Axl. He was staring at me and I was starting to get uncomfortable under his piercing blue gaze. But at the same time I felt some sort of pride in that the fact that he was staring at me and not someone else.
After about five minutes the silence became extremely awkward. “So,” I began trying to break the silence. “Is Axl your real name or is it a stage name?”
Axl smiled. “Legally it’s now Axl Rose. My name’s changed like three times now, though.”
I frowned. “What do you mean it’s changed three times?”
Axl sighed and I suddenly felt bad for asking. “You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to. I’m just curious.”
“No it’s fine. I’m used to it by now.” Axl put his left hand on my shoulder and turned me around, trying to lead me to the couch. “It’s best if we sit down,” he explained. “It’s a really long story.”
After we got comfortable he began. “I was born William Bruce Rose, but my mom and dad broke up when I was two, I think. Mom was nineteen and remarried a year later just so she could get out of her parents house. She married this dude named Bailey,” he turned to look at me. “I was little ya know, so I though this fucker was my real dad so I went along with the name and was known as Bill Bailey for most of my childhood. Then in ninth grade, I think, I started to rebel. I was just like, ‘Fuck this shit. This ass isn’t my real dad, so why should I have to do what he says,’ ya know?”
I nodded. “So you found out he was your step-dad?”
“Yeah. I was like twelve or thirteen, maybe even fourteen. But anyway, my parents started accusing me of doing all this shit, like drinking and smoking and shit like that. So I decided I’d just start hanging out with these guys who drank, smoked pot, and did a lot of pills, ya know, see what was so bad about it all.”
He continued, explaining why he changed his name and that, legally, it was W. Axl Rose.
I was leaning against the back of the couch by the time he was done. “Jesus Christ! I thought my life was fucked up,” I mumbled. Axl laughed.
“Why would your life be fucked up? I mean, you had one of the coolest dad’s ever and, well you’re hot!”
I blushed. “Thanks, but my dad was way too protective of me. It wasn’t until I was like twelve that he let me hug another guy, and he didn’t want me kissing a boy until I was sixteen.”
“Well obviously that didn’t work out,” Axl interjected, picking up the black, heart-shaped pendant resting against my chest.
I giggled. “Obviously.”
We sat in silence for a while longer, neither looking at the other now. “Stairway to Heaven” came on and Axl perked up. He stood up and extended his hand to me. “Would you like to dance?”
I stared at his hand for a moment before grasping it. He pulled me up and led me to the make-shift dance floor. He grabbed my wrists, led them up to his neck, and placed his hands delicately on my waist. We swayed in one spot and he began singing along to “Stairway”. My mouth popped open slightly. Now I could see why he was the lead singer. His voice was beautiful! Low, slightly quiet, but at the same time it gave the impression that if he wanted to he could sing in a arena jammed pack full of people and everyone, even the one’s at the top row, would hear him without a microphone.
I looked up into his eyes, not listening to Robert Plant’s voice but Axl’s. It was hypnotic. After Jimmy Page’s guitar solo, Plant’s voice wailed over the speakers. Suddenly Axl’s voice changed. It went from being low, almost baritone, to a marvelously high falsetto that still sounded fantastic. When the song finished I was only vaguely aware of my dropped jaw. He smiled again and popped my mouth closed.
“I…I never would have guessed that you could sing like that,” I stuttered out.
“Yeah, a lot of people don’t expect that,” Axl explained.
“Wow,” I whispered.
He laughed. He looked into my eyes again and I could feel my heart rate pick up. Those blue eyes were extremely stunning. Before I knew what I was doing my lips were less than an inch away from his. I paused for a moment, before continuing. I don’t even know how long the kiss actually lasted but it seemed like several minutes. He pulled back, then kissed me again, but with more force. He forced my mouth open with his and stuck his tongue into my mouth. I was startled, but I didn’t stop him. Instead I massaged his tongue with mine. He slid his hand under my shirt, then up my waist and continued to-
“Riley!”
I pulled away startled. Axl was looking over my shoulder, glaring at someone. I snapped my head around and there was Bret, holding a beer in one hand, his other hand just leaving the waist of that jailbait. He was walking toward me and, for some reason, Axl tensed up.
“What?” I called, still holding onto Axl. Bret sneered when he saw Axl’s hand on my exposed ribcage.
“I need to talk to you,”
“So talk,” I demanded. Axl exhaled humorously.
“In private.”
I smirked. “I don’t think so. The last time we ‘talked in private’ I almost ended up pregnant.”
Bret looked like he just got slapped. He went forward and grabbed my elbow. “Just for a second.”
“No.”
“Come on, Riley. Just for a sec.”
“No, Bret. Stop it.”
He pulled harder and ripped my hand off Axl’s shoulder. “Stop it, Bret!”
“I won’t!”
“Quit acting so spoiled!”
“If you don’t come with me-“
“Don’t you dare threaten her, you faggot,” Axl warned.
I looked into his face. What had seemed romantic and peaceful just a moment before was now twisted and red with rage. Obviously Axl carried some sort of grudge against Bret, not that I minded. I didn’t like Bret anymore either.
Bret smirked. “What are you going to do about it, Fire-crotch?”
Axl let go of me and turned to Bret. Axl was almost a complete head taller than him and was way more menacing. “What’d you just call me?”
“Are you deaf? I called you Fire-crotch.”
“That’s what I thought you said. Now if you want to keep you fuckin’ balls attached to your dick you better run and not bother us for the rest of your sorry life.”
Bret backed off, but not before giving Axl and me one last glare.
I couldn’t help but laugh.
Axl walked back over to me and wrapped his arm around my waist, pulling me into his chest. It was at this point that I realized I was acting completely out of character. I was acting like a complete slut, exactly what I hated. I’d known this guy for an hour tops and I was already making out with him and had let him feel me up. What was wrong with me?
Axl was kissing and nibbling at my neck by this point. I didn’t stop him, but I didn’t stroke his hair like I did with Bruce or Eddie when they had done something like this.
My thoughts were frenzied as I tried to figure out what I knew about Axl and why I was letting him do this to me. And finally I came to a conclusion.
Axl was a hypnotist.
Well, maybe not, but it was the best explanation I could come up with.
He moved me to the couch and pulled me into his lap. I didn’t mind this either, it gave me the opportunity to feel his muscles and reassured me that Axl wasn’t one of the weak red heads. He was kissing my hair and whispering things I didn’t catch into my ear. He was getting me seriously aroused, but I was definitely not giving it to him on the first night. Even with Axl I had my limits.
After what seemed like minutes but was really several hours, Slash came over. Axl had me leaning back into the cushions slightly and was gently making out with me. Slash was smiling, and I realized he had Lita on his arm. I raised an eyebrow at Lita, but she didn’t see it because she was too busy staring at Slash. Sometimes I really wondered about that girl. I still do.
Apparently the guys needed to get back to their apartment before the cops crashed the party and found Axl. Evidently he had some warrants out for his arrest which only aroused me more. Jesus, a hot, muscly red head with a criminal record. Since when did this kind of stuff happen?
Axl reluctantly got off of me, but not before sucking on my neck a little. After he left I went to the bathroom to clean up my hair which was sticking up in weird places, and noticed a red mark developing on my neck where Axl had sucked. Oh boy, a hickey. Just what I needed.
I didn’t get much sleep when I went back home. All I could think about was Axl’s lips on my neck, and his hand on my ribcage, slowly stroking the skin just under the wire of my bra.
She smiled. “One.”
“Who?”
She pointed over to a loveseat where a guy with teased blond hair, violent lipstick, black boots, and tight leather pants was making out with a piece of jailbait. It was Bret Michaels. I rolled my eyes. “I mean someone cute who isn’t a complete man-hoe.”
Lita frowned. “Then no.”
The sound of the front door squeaking open caught my attention. Five guys were walking in, free of all gay-like clothing. Two blond, two black haired, and one red-head and all of them were cute. I tapped Lita’s leg. “Look at those five, near the door.”
Lita followed my finger and gapped at the guys. “Where did they come from?”
I shrugged. I was staring at the one with long black hair, sunglasses, a cigarette, and a top hat. He seemed familiar, as did the short blond who reminded me of a puppy. Where had I seen them before?
Top-Hat was scanning the crowd of people when his eyes rested on me. He smiled. “Hey Triple-Six!”
My heart beat picked up and I started to scream with happiness. “Slash?” I jumped out of the chair, leaving it rocking worse than a boat in a hurricane with Lita hanging on for dear life. I ran up and hugged him. “Oh my God, what are you doing here?”
“Joe’s pretty cool with our bass player.”
“Cool as in?”
“Cool as in he hangs out with the band every once in a while.”
“You’re in a band?” I inquired, suddenly very interested. Slash, or Saul Hudson as he had been called in high school by the teachers, had been the greatest guitarist at Fairfax High School. I had always known he was destined for fame, but I thought he’d be one of those guys who just do solo riffs, like Yngwie Malmsteen.
“Yeah, with these guys,” he indicated to the mass behind him. “We’re called-“
“Riles!” a scream behind Slash sounded. Before I knew it I was being hugged by Puppy Dog. I was spitting out blond hair when he finally released me.
“Geez, Stevie. Can you try to not break my back? I kinda need it.”
“Sorry,” Steven Adler apologized bashfully. Steven had gone to Fairfax High as well. He and Slash were in the same grade, which was three below mine. Slash was being picked on during Freshmen Friday by three seniors who I knew. I called them off and instantly clicked with Slash. Then he met Steven and introduced us. All three of us were trouble-makers and loved to sneak out and hang-out on Sunset Boulevard. We were inseparable until I graduated. I was the only one of the three to get a degree from Fairfax, or any other high school for that matter.
Slash was laughing when he grabbed my shoulder. “Let me introduce you to everyone before Steven sends you to the hospital.”
“Hey! I wouldn’t do that to Riley!”
Slash swung his arm out, completely ignoring Steven, and indicated to each guy in turn. He started with the other blond. “This is Duff McKagan, he’s our bass player. This is Izzy Stradlin, our rhythm guitarist,” he continued indicating to the other black haired guy. “And this,” he lifted his hand to the red-head, “is Axl Rose, our singer.” I stopped and looked at the man in front of me. Axl, huh? He was the hottest one in the group and seemed to exude a sense of bad-assiness. I was instantly attracted to him and the way he was looking me up and down told me he was interested in me.
“And this,” Slash continued, now talking to the three, “Is my and Steven’s best gal friend from Fairfax. This is Riley Scott.”
Axl raised a single eyebrow, a sinful smile spreading across his face. I could feel my face grow hot with embarrassment. Slash looked between us and smirked. “Come on guys,” he called to the other three. “Let’s leave these two alone.”
The guys filed past me all except for Axl. He was staring at me and I was starting to get uncomfortable under his piercing blue gaze. But at the same time I felt some sort of pride in that the fact that he was staring at me and not someone else.
After about five minutes the silence became extremely awkward. “So,” I began trying to break the silence. “Is Axl your real name or is it a stage name?”
Axl smiled. “Legally it’s now Axl Rose. My name’s changed like three times now, though.”
I frowned. “What do you mean it’s changed three times?”
Axl sighed and I suddenly felt bad for asking. “You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to. I’m just curious.”
“No it’s fine. I’m used to it by now.” Axl put his left hand on my shoulder and turned me around, trying to lead me to the couch. “It’s best if we sit down,” he explained. “It’s a really long story.”
After we got comfortable he began. “I was born William Bruce Rose, but my mom and dad broke up when I was two, I think. Mom was nineteen and remarried a year later just so she could get out of her parents house. She married this dude named Bailey,” he turned to look at me. “I was little ya know, so I though this fucker was my real dad so I went along with the name and was known as Bill Bailey for most of my childhood. Then in ninth grade, I think, I started to rebel. I was just like, ‘Fuck this shit. This ass isn’t my real dad, so why should I have to do what he says,’ ya know?”
I nodded. “So you found out he was your step-dad?”
“Yeah. I was like twelve or thirteen, maybe even fourteen. But anyway, my parents started accusing me of doing all this shit, like drinking and smoking and shit like that. So I decided I’d just start hanging out with these guys who drank, smoked pot, and did a lot of pills, ya know, see what was so bad about it all.”
He continued, explaining why he changed his name and that, legally, it was W. Axl Rose.
I was leaning against the back of the couch by the time he was done. “Jesus Christ! I thought my life was fucked up,” I mumbled. Axl laughed.
“Why would your life be fucked up? I mean, you had one of the coolest dad’s ever and, well you’re hot!”
I blushed. “Thanks, but my dad was way too protective of me. It wasn’t until I was like twelve that he let me hug another guy, and he didn’t want me kissing a boy until I was sixteen.”
“Well obviously that didn’t work out,” Axl interjected, picking up the black, heart-shaped pendant resting against my chest.
I giggled. “Obviously.”
We sat in silence for a while longer, neither looking at the other now. “Stairway to Heaven” came on and Axl perked up. He stood up and extended his hand to me. “Would you like to dance?”
I stared at his hand for a moment before grasping it. He pulled me up and led me to the make-shift dance floor. He grabbed my wrists, led them up to his neck, and placed his hands delicately on my waist. We swayed in one spot and he began singing along to “Stairway”. My mouth popped open slightly. Now I could see why he was the lead singer. His voice was beautiful! Low, slightly quiet, but at the same time it gave the impression that if he wanted to he could sing in a arena jammed pack full of people and everyone, even the one’s at the top row, would hear him without a microphone.
I looked up into his eyes, not listening to Robert Plant’s voice but Axl’s. It was hypnotic. After Jimmy Page’s guitar solo, Plant’s voice wailed over the speakers. Suddenly Axl’s voice changed. It went from being low, almost baritone, to a marvelously high falsetto that still sounded fantastic. When the song finished I was only vaguely aware of my dropped jaw. He smiled again and popped my mouth closed.
“I…I never would have guessed that you could sing like that,” I stuttered out.
“Yeah, a lot of people don’t expect that,” Axl explained.
“Wow,” I whispered.
He laughed. He looked into my eyes again and I could feel my heart rate pick up. Those blue eyes were extremely stunning. Before I knew what I was doing my lips were less than an inch away from his. I paused for a moment, before continuing. I don’t even know how long the kiss actually lasted but it seemed like several minutes. He pulled back, then kissed me again, but with more force. He forced my mouth open with his and stuck his tongue into my mouth. I was startled, but I didn’t stop him. Instead I massaged his tongue with mine. He slid his hand under my shirt, then up my waist and continued to-
“Riley!”
I pulled away startled. Axl was looking over my shoulder, glaring at someone. I snapped my head around and there was Bret, holding a beer in one hand, his other hand just leaving the waist of that jailbait. He was walking toward me and, for some reason, Axl tensed up.
“What?” I called, still holding onto Axl. Bret sneered when he saw Axl’s hand on my exposed ribcage.
“I need to talk to you,”
“So talk,” I demanded. Axl exhaled humorously.
“In private.”
I smirked. “I don’t think so. The last time we ‘talked in private’ I almost ended up pregnant.”
Bret looked like he just got slapped. He went forward and grabbed my elbow. “Just for a second.”
“No.”
“Come on, Riley. Just for a sec.”
“No, Bret. Stop it.”
He pulled harder and ripped my hand off Axl’s shoulder. “Stop it, Bret!”
“I won’t!”
“Quit acting so spoiled!”
“If you don’t come with me-“
“Don’t you dare threaten her, you faggot,” Axl warned.
I looked into his face. What had seemed romantic and peaceful just a moment before was now twisted and red with rage. Obviously Axl carried some sort of grudge against Bret, not that I minded. I didn’t like Bret anymore either.
Bret smirked. “What are you going to do about it, Fire-crotch?”
Axl let go of me and turned to Bret. Axl was almost a complete head taller than him and was way more menacing. “What’d you just call me?”
“Are you deaf? I called you Fire-crotch.”
“That’s what I thought you said. Now if you want to keep you fuckin’ balls attached to your dick you better run and not bother us for the rest of your sorry life.”
Bret backed off, but not before giving Axl and me one last glare.
I couldn’t help but laugh.
Axl walked back over to me and wrapped his arm around my waist, pulling me into his chest. It was at this point that I realized I was acting completely out of character. I was acting like a complete slut, exactly what I hated. I’d known this guy for an hour tops and I was already making out with him and had let him feel me up. What was wrong with me?
Axl was kissing and nibbling at my neck by this point. I didn’t stop him, but I didn’t stroke his hair like I did with Bruce or Eddie when they had done something like this.
My thoughts were frenzied as I tried to figure out what I knew about Axl and why I was letting him do this to me. And finally I came to a conclusion.
Axl was a hypnotist.
Well, maybe not, but it was the best explanation I could come up with.
He moved me to the couch and pulled me into his lap. I didn’t mind this either, it gave me the opportunity to feel his muscles and reassured me that Axl wasn’t one of the weak red heads. He was kissing my hair and whispering things I didn’t catch into my ear. He was getting me seriously aroused, but I was definitely not giving it to him on the first night. Even with Axl I had my limits.
After what seemed like minutes but was really several hours, Slash came over. Axl had me leaning back into the cushions slightly and was gently making out with me. Slash was smiling, and I realized he had Lita on his arm. I raised an eyebrow at Lita, but she didn’t see it because she was too busy staring at Slash. Sometimes I really wondered about that girl. I still do.
Apparently the guys needed to get back to their apartment before the cops crashed the party and found Axl. Evidently he had some warrants out for his arrest which only aroused me more. Jesus, a hot, muscly red head with a criminal record. Since when did this kind of stuff happen?
Axl reluctantly got off of me, but not before sucking on my neck a little. After he left I went to the bathroom to clean up my hair which was sticking up in weird places, and noticed a red mark developing on my neck where Axl had sucked. Oh boy, a hickey. Just what I needed.
I didn’t get much sleep when I went back home. All I could think about was Axl’s lips on my neck, and his hand on my ribcage, slowly stroking the skin just under the wire of my bra.
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