Categories > Celebrities > Guns n' Roses > No Regrets
“If Axl ever needed me for something, I’d always be there.” ~Slash
In the morning, Slash woke up and discovered Axl was still there, tucked under him, head on his shoulder. He wondered if Axl knew how amazingly gorgeous he was when he slept; his cheeks were flushed light pink, every one of his features seemed softened. His hair spilled around his head like a halo. Slash leaned in and kissed his singer gently on the cheek, and he woke up, green eyes softening when he looked at Slash.
“Morning, Saul,” he said, sliding his hand into the guitarist’s, so that their wrists were touching. They gazed at each other for a while, then Slash said:
“Wanna go downstairs?”
Axl nodded slowly, sitting up. The blanket fell from around him as he stood and started gathering his clothes from off the floor, and Slash whistled softly. The redhead turned, one leg in his leather pants, and said, “Guess I look good?” He was grinning, and when Slash plunged under the remaining sheets, cheeks flushed, Axl just chuckled.
Eventually, they went downstairs, slightly nervous about telling Izzy what had happened. Steven was nowhere in sight, but Duff and Izzy were eating breakfast and talking softly. They looked up as Axl and Slash entered and smiled.
“Hey, Izzy,” started Axl, “we have to talk—”
“It’s okay, Axe,” interrupted the rhythm guitarist. “I already know.”
“Yeah,” Duff smirked. “We heard you.”
Axl’s cheeks flamed up and he rocked back on his heels and stared at the ground.
“Are you mad?”
“Mad? No. Why would I be?” Abruptly Izzy stood up and, walking over to Axl, gently laid his hand on his shoulder. “You’re my best friend, okay? We both knew we were falling out of love. I don’t want anything except to see you two happy together. And besides, I could tell how you felt about him, even before you were aware of it yourself.”
Duff grinned. “Yeah, Axl. No offense, but the two of you pretty much have your hearts on your sleeves when it comes to how you feel. Slasher, I know you’re good at hiding stuff, but bro, you’ve always been so damn obvious about this.”
It was Slash’s turn to blush. He crossed his arms and mumbled something about how Duff’s head would look on a silver platter.
“Oh, and Axl?” Suddenly Izzy looked shy again. “I…um…I’m sort of…with someone else too.”
Axl raised one eyebrow, smiling a tiny bit. “Who?” he asked, though he could tell, already, what the answer would be.
Izzy reached over and grabbed Duff’s hand. “Duffy,” he said, blushing just as hard as Slash.
“Congrats,” said Axl, nodding once at the couple.
Then he turned to Slash and gently pushed his large curls out of his eyes. “Wanna go write some shit down at the studio?” he asked softly, and the guitarist nodded, reaching down to take Axl’s hand. They walked out together, pale Axl and dark Slash making a fine contrast, both of them knowing full well that a lot more than songwriting was about to take place at the studio.
In the morning, Slash woke up and discovered Axl was still there, tucked under him, head on his shoulder. He wondered if Axl knew how amazingly gorgeous he was when he slept; his cheeks were flushed light pink, every one of his features seemed softened. His hair spilled around his head like a halo. Slash leaned in and kissed his singer gently on the cheek, and he woke up, green eyes softening when he looked at Slash.
“Morning, Saul,” he said, sliding his hand into the guitarist’s, so that their wrists were touching. They gazed at each other for a while, then Slash said:
“Wanna go downstairs?”
Axl nodded slowly, sitting up. The blanket fell from around him as he stood and started gathering his clothes from off the floor, and Slash whistled softly. The redhead turned, one leg in his leather pants, and said, “Guess I look good?” He was grinning, and when Slash plunged under the remaining sheets, cheeks flushed, Axl just chuckled.
Eventually, they went downstairs, slightly nervous about telling Izzy what had happened. Steven was nowhere in sight, but Duff and Izzy were eating breakfast and talking softly. They looked up as Axl and Slash entered and smiled.
“Hey, Izzy,” started Axl, “we have to talk—”
“It’s okay, Axe,” interrupted the rhythm guitarist. “I already know.”
“Yeah,” Duff smirked. “We heard you.”
Axl’s cheeks flamed up and he rocked back on his heels and stared at the ground.
“Are you mad?”
“Mad? No. Why would I be?” Abruptly Izzy stood up and, walking over to Axl, gently laid his hand on his shoulder. “You’re my best friend, okay? We both knew we were falling out of love. I don’t want anything except to see you two happy together. And besides, I could tell how you felt about him, even before you were aware of it yourself.”
Duff grinned. “Yeah, Axl. No offense, but the two of you pretty much have your hearts on your sleeves when it comes to how you feel. Slasher, I know you’re good at hiding stuff, but bro, you’ve always been so damn obvious about this.”
It was Slash’s turn to blush. He crossed his arms and mumbled something about how Duff’s head would look on a silver platter.
“Oh, and Axl?” Suddenly Izzy looked shy again. “I…um…I’m sort of…with someone else too.”
Axl raised one eyebrow, smiling a tiny bit. “Who?” he asked, though he could tell, already, what the answer would be.
Izzy reached over and grabbed Duff’s hand. “Duffy,” he said, blushing just as hard as Slash.
“Congrats,” said Axl, nodding once at the couple.
Then he turned to Slash and gently pushed his large curls out of his eyes. “Wanna go write some shit down at the studio?” he asked softly, and the guitarist nodded, reaching down to take Axl’s hand. They walked out together, pale Axl and dark Slash making a fine contrast, both of them knowing full well that a lot more than songwriting was about to take place at the studio.
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