FicWad

It was a warm Sunday evening. Slash was sitting on the couch, a half-empty bottle of Jack on one knee; a burning cigarette resting between his calloused fingers on the other. He was staring through half-closed eyelids at the TV, wondering when his lover would come home.

Suddenly the front door burst open and Axl came running in, copper hair flying, bracelets jangling. Slash started to move off the couch, naturally assuming that Axl would want to talk to him about how the studio run had gone, but the redhead ran past him, down the apartment hall, and into the bathroom. He slammed the door shut, and Slash sighed. He counted sixty seconds down, then went after him.

Axl was standing over the sink, hair hanging over his face, tears streaming down his cheeks. Slash hesitated for a second, then walked up to him. He put his hand on his shoulder, and Axl shrugged it off.

"Ax...what's wrong? Why are you crying?"

Furiously, Axl rubbed at his eyes. "I'm not crying..." he mumbled hoarsely. "Just ran into Izzy at the studio, that's all... not fuckin' crying."

Slash bit down on his lower lip. He knew that Izzy had been Axl's boyfriend in Lafayette, but he'd left him a few years ago, and they still hadn't made up completely.

"Listen, Ax..." Slash said after a while. "It's okay to cry sometimes. You don't always need to hold it all in."

"Why?" Axl snarled, wiping at his eyes again.

Again, Slash put his hand on Axl's shoulder, but this time the singer didn't shrug it off. Taking advantage of this, Slash moved forward and wrapped his arms around the singer's waist.

"Because," he whispered, "I'm here for you."

Axl turned slowly, looking confused, a little hopeful.

"Really...?"

Slash nodded. He squeezed Axl's waist and kissed him, and Axl smiled against his will. Feeling the tension shift, Slash smiled back.

"C'mon," he said, sliding his hand between them to take his singer's hand in his. "Let's go write some songs."