FicWad

Slash

What the fuck? Steven and Izzy and I made it back to the meeting with the producer guy but after we got there I don’t really fucking remember much until Axl started screaming at us when the guy said he wouldn’t work with us because we were all fucked up. Axl had a legitimate point but at this second I couldn’t be bothered to remember what the fuck it was. Something about how we had all gotten fucked; that’s when I stopped listening. I didn’t want to hear about getting fucked by record company execs; that’s why I got this high, so I could forget that shit. I don’t want to remember those two guys from Virgin sitting there smiling while I sucked their dicks. I don’t want to remember that guy shoving me down into the seat while I watched his partner panting over Duff’s back. I don’t want to think about how I just grabbed Duff’s hand and held the fuck on like there was no tomorrow while that fucker behind me made me bleed. I don’t want to think about how Duff’s eyes looked so sad and how he told me to look at him and nothing else so I wouldn’t die from the shame and humiliation of the whole thing. I didn’t want to think about Axl’s breathing getting faster in my ear after he asked me if he could fuck me a little bit harder so he could get off. I didn't want to think about any of it and I almost stood up and yelled that at Axl but I didn't think my legs would hold me.

I hated hearing Axl talk or breathe; all it reminded me of was the first time I had sex that I didn’t want to. There was nothing else I could associate with it. Just fucking hearing the sound of his voice made want to panic and fucking feel like some piece of shit dog that somebody kicked. It made my chest fill up with this horrible fucking black and grey feeling of wanting to die. I just wanted to die right that fucking second. I think he probably knew it too. He wasn’t trying to do anything to hurt me and I know it but I can’t help what happens when he talks. It makes me feel even worse that he was protecting me from the fucker in a way by not letting him fuck me that night; at least he fucking let the first time I got fucked when I didn’t want to not be with a strange, old, weirdo. Shit, at least the first time I got raped I got coaxed through it right? I squirm around in my chair a little and continue to tune him out. I can’t even think the word “raped.” That was some word associated with chicks in after school specials; it didn’t fit with anything that happened to me, or to Izzy, or to Duff. Guys don’t get raped do they? That’s not something that happens.

I hear Duff say something beside me and the image of him bloody and stumbling fills my head and I move my hand to touch him and make sure he’s really there and I let myself sink down into the haze of smack. It doesn’t last very long because Axl punches Izzy and runs out and Izzy goes running after him. Steven just looks at them and says “Paul fucking Stanley? KISS?” Kiss has been his favorite band since we were in junior high. He’s probably going to have a major heart attack when he sobers up and realizes we got turned down by their producer. I mean he knows it now but not like he will sober. He stands up and follows Izzy and Axl yelling at them to wait and are they serious about the guy being Paul Stanley?

I look over at Duff. He looks a little more sober than me. Just looking at him makes me feel guilty. He’s been through just as much shit as I have; more even, and he still tries to take care of me and never let it be the other way around. I wish he would let his guard down and let me care for him once in a while; I wish they all would. They all make me very aware that I’m the youngest out all of us; “Slash is just a baby!” or “Is the baby crying?” if I complain too much about something, they tease me all the fucking time. I don’t mind the teasing except that I know that because I’m the baby they’re all trying to keep me safe from even worse shit than I’ve already been through. Duff told me “You’re only 19, you have parents and a grandma who loves you, a little brother who looks up to you and so far you’ve gotten lucky; you managed to run the streets and act like a hooligan and nothing really ever happened to you. You didn’t end up in a gang, you didn’t get grabbed and sold as somebody’s bitch like your buddy Steven, you haven’t knocked anyone up that we know of, you didn’t break your neck doing any of those bike tricks when you were doing BMX competitively, and you’re not in jail despite the fact that you have a smart mouth when cops come around. You’ve been lucky so far; luck only lasts so long, especially now that we’re working with record company pieces of shit who are secretly pervs and go home and fuck their wife with the same dick they just held some guy’s head down on for the shot at a record deal. The rest of us have been through some shit in life and we don’t want any of it to happen to you; no point in going through something bad if you don’t have to. Besides that you’re really pretty Slash, like Axl and we’re all afraid somebody’s going to take it too far and really hurt you. So we keep you safe from as many things as we can because I love you and would be lost without you and the band needs the most talented guitar player on the strip who happens to look really hot under the lights with no shirt on to attract chicks to our shows ok?” Duff teases but I know he means it

“Does Axl know you think he’s pretty?” I ask sniggering.

“I dare you to go tell him and we’ll see how long it takes him to punch you!” Duff laughs.
I know Duff’s right about me being the best guitar player on the strip too even if I am too shy to ever admit it to anyone. I go to a lot of shows and I always learn something from the guitarists that I can maybe use and there are a lot of guys who are really good; but I heard Izzy tell Axl I’m the best and threaten to cut off all blow jobs if he didn’t stop riding him about wanting me and it was funny at the time, not so much anymore; but if Izzy said I’m the best it must be true.

I know Duff’s mad at me right now for nodding out and helping to lose Paul Stanley as a producer so I’m surprised when he asks me if I want to get out of LA for a little bit. I jump at the chance.

“Good, cause we’re going to the beach! We need a break, just you and me like before. I need to be alone with you, not with the three of them bickering. We need to have a serious talk and we both love the ocean so I thought it would be a healing place for both of us, “ Duff says and slides his arm around my back in the chair. Then he hauls me off to the bathroom, gives me some coke to wake me up so I can actually walk and has a serious chat with me about how he doesn’t want to turn into Izzy and Axl; the addict and the non-addict/enabler. He’s right and I don’t want to be them either; not on any level. But I’m so terrified by the things I see in my head when I’m straight and I hate the panic and shame that come with the memories and I don’t know any other way to cope with them. It’s not the drugs I want, it’s not the booze Duff wants, it’s not the valium Axl wants, all any of us want is to forget what we did to get a record deal and Axl and Izzy; I don’t know what else they’re running from that they’re not telling but they’ve been running from a long, long, time.

“Do you want to tell me where we’re going or are we just randomly driving?” I ask Duff about an hour into our drive. We’d left with minimal clothing, bathing suits, a couple of water bottles, a pillow, and Duff’s Seahawks blanket for whoever isn’t driving to curl up into. Izzy was sitting on our couch rolled u in his camo blanket trying to act like he wasn’t crying when we came in to get our stuff. Even in the new record company house he still loved that blanket; those loud yellow striped sheets covered the bed in his room too; Axl hated them but Izzy loved them. I walked over to him and squatted down in front of him. “Hey, Izz, it’s not your fault, we were all screwed up and Axl was being a loudmouth. Everybody says Paul Stanley’s a dick to work with anyway. Duff and I are going away for a few days and Axl’s over at Erin’s so the house all yours and Stevens. I bet I know a pretty, dark eyed brunette who would love to be with you and cheer you up!” I tell him trying to get him to smile.

“Who, you?” he teases.

“Good thing Axl wasn’t around to hear that one he would have had a conniption!” I joke. But seriously, call Angie, bring her over. No reason to be alone. We’ll be out of here in 10 minutes; Duff is making super -secret plans on the phone in the bedroom,” I tell Izzy.

Duff walks out of our bedroom carrying our two small bags. Ready to go beautiful?” he asks me. I’d go anywhere with him I manage to push myself up a little and kiss his lips and he smiles sweetly against my mouth
“You know the only part of you I’ll get lonely for when you’re this smacked out is how damn needy and cuddly you get!” Duff teases me and pulls me closer to him for another soft, sweet, kiss full of longing. I return it eagerly; even though we had only been apart for a few hours while I was in Mexico I had missed him.

Sometimes in the middle of his shift at work I find myself lonely for him and I’ll dig in his laundry bin until I find a shirt that I like that smells like him and I’ll wear it until he comes home and asks why I’m wearing his dirty shirt The answer is always the same :”It smells like you and I missed you so much!” This will usually get me some ribbing about what a needy little bitch I am but then he’ll wrap his arms around me and hold me leaning against the kitchen counter and kiss me and we ask about each other’s days and catch up and kiss some more. If nobody’s home we’ll strip down and one of us will fuck the other one leaning up against the kitchen counter. I love to just spread for him right there and let him take me from behind against the counter. I love the way his palm flattens against my chest holding my body so firmly and tight against his while he kissed and licked and nipped at my neck, sucking the soft skin behind my ear because he knew it made my knees give out from under me when he did it.

So he would save it for times when I wasn’t expecting it to push me over the edge and into orgasm. I loved how he would talk dirty to me as he worked his Crisco (pastry chefs always have Crisco in the kitchen) slicked fingers into me to open me up to him, stretching my muscles and skin so they don’t tear when he bends me over and fucks me. The way his greased up fingers work to play and stroke and tease; sometimes bringing me off with his fingers before his dick ever touched me. He’d nibble at my neck as I came; whispering filthy things that he was going to do to me in my ear and sometimes sweet things like “I love watching you cum baby boy but I love loving you more.” Then before I had even fully come down from the orgasm Duff’s hands had given me he would push into me; drawing a cry out of my mouth that he would shush with heated kisses; feeding them to me while he moved inside my body. It was an impossible, twisted way to move to keep kissing while fucking that way but I couldn’t get enough of him; we were starving for each other all the time and it was great.

I loved those days. But those days had started to happen less and less often as Duff fell down further down into his vodka bottle and Mr. Brownstone and I got to know each other and developed an on again friendship. ;

“Is that all we’re taking I ask as Duff comes out of the bedroom with a couple of small bags.

“Yep, get in the truck!” Duff said and laughed.

“But I don’t have many clothes in that bag!” I objected.

“ I know but we both need some new ones anyway. Our stuff is getting pretty ratty. So you have enough dope to live through a week without getting sick right?” So we can maybe taper you down? he asked.

“Yeah, more or less,” I answered.

“Well Jason, Nikki’s dealer came by after you left and I bought another $300 worth off of him so now you have plenty because I wanted to get away with you and I don’t want you getting sick. Now, are you ready to go? Your pillow’s in the truck, you can sleep in my lap,” Duff says. I just look up at him; amazed that he would plan something this elaborate (maybe?) when he knew I’d spent most of the day driving to and from Mexico attempting to score dope. Good thing he didn’t know that somewhere in there I had kissed Izzy too. I can’t explain why Izzy and I kiss sometimes except that it’s a reminder that there really is someone out there who cares about Izzy and I could use the comfort of someone that I know takes care of me no matter what the situation. It doesn’t make it right though and I know it would hurt Duff. He can’t ever find out.

I look at his sparkling brown eyes and proud smile and say “Wow, thank you! Duff…why are you so sweet to me? Even when I don’t deserve it? Even when I do things that make you angry? You know I just spent the morning smuggling dope across the border with Steven, Izzy, and Nikki and you hate dope and we blew the producer deal but you’re still taking me to the beach? What in the hell did I do to deserve somebody half as sweet to me as you are?.” I ask him and gaze at him in absolute wonder.

I don’t know what I did to deserve you either. But I love you so lets go.

“So will you hold my stash for me when we get there so I don’t do it all at once?” Help me manage it the way you did with Izzy?” I ask Duff quietly; ashamed that I can’t trust myself to manage my own drug intake; but I couldn’t and I knew it.

He pretended he didn’t hear the shame in my voice and joked with me instead. “Sure, but on two conditions: 1. You promise not to punch me for it like Izzy did! 2. You hold my vodka bottles and help me manage how much I drink. Deal?” he asked sheepishly?

“Deal. I love you Duffy. I couldn’t do all of this without your support and I know that. The fame and the whirlwind that comes with it is coming; I’m going to need you to be my rock and I’ll be yours; think we can make it?” I whispered and stared into his eyes.

“We can make it together Baby Boy. Now come on, lay down in my lap and relax, sleep, I’ll get us to the beach. So I did, I laid a pillow in his lap and stretched myself across the seat of the old truck and nodded out. I wake up in front of a San Diego shopping mall that is across the street from a giant thrift store. We look at each other for a second trying to decide where to go first and at the same time we say “Thrift Store!”

We walk across the parking lot of the mall and end up in front of a huge thrift store. We did through their t-shirt racks and I find several with dirty sayings on them like “Hard Cock Café” instead of “Hard Rock Café,” Duff finds a Sex Pistols shirt and I find one with Pepe le Pew, the skunk from the Bugs Bunny cartoons on it. We also find some cool tanks tops and knit shirts and swim trunks and button down flannels and leather pants and old jeans with rips in them, my favorite thing though was a burgundy tank top that said “Fuck You” on it. Duff got a cool cowboy hat and we both got some boots that looked like they’d never been worn and some flip flops. I love rich people’s thrift stores. I got Axl a black, net shirt for showing off his chest, he’ll love it,a KISS shirt for Stevie, and a nice leather pageboy for Izzy. The cashier laughs and says we could have bought all of this stuff new across the street but we looked at him and said “Dude, why? It'd be three times the price!" We do go in the mall for clean boxers and socks though, they have a Target at one end. We also grab a buttload of sunscreen too; neither of us will be getting cooked on this trip.

Duff still won’t tell me where he’s taking me and we drive a long way away from civilization if you ask me and energe infront of one of those hotels that has little round cottages instead of a concrete building. Each cottage is solid bamboo and they’re scattered pretty far apart. Duff pays for one (ignoring me telling him I would pay) and a bell hop shows us and our new bags of purchases (while sneering at us) to one of the beautiful cottages. He shows us where the mini bar is, the TV remote, the bathroom, all of the essential things and then he leaves us to explore. There is a round bed in the center of the room with mosquito netting hanging all around it like a canopy. There blue and green and white candles tucked away all over the room but the best part, at least for me was the huge hammock that swung across one side of the doorway. There was another one on the back deck facing the ocean. The water was so clear, there was snorkeling gear in a bin on the deck and I couldn’t wait to go see what lived under the water.

I just look at Duff in wonder. “Thank you Duffy, how did you know about this place?”

“I saw a brochure for it in the hotel lobby while you were drying out and I picked it up. No biggie. I knew you would like this place and so I wanted to bring you here. You needed a break and you needed to smile. I figured this would do it for you! Plus, I wanted to sleep in one of those hammocks with you..” Duff says smiling a naughty smile. But he’s right; line that hammock with a blanket and it’s the perfect way to sleep wrapped around one another.

We spend the afternoon snorkeling and marveling at all of the beautifully colored fish that live so close to the shore. We float on our backs in the water at sunset, we order grilled fish and crab from room service and gorge ourselves. Then Duff lays me down on that round bed and makes love to me so tenderly that I feel like a precious treasure that he’s found on the beach, something special to be celebrated, and somehow, he makes me feel so special that I remember that this is a sacred act, something people do to show how much they love one another; not as payment for new instruments or record constracts. When we switch places and it’s my turn to top I pour my whole heart into my every touch, every kiss is filled with the fullness of my heart. Our lovemaking is filled with whispered words of affection and happiness and I realize how very far I’ve fallen since we first met; my whole heart and soul belong to Duff and in a good way; there’s no darkness here between us like there is between Izzy and Axl, there’s only light.

Later, when we’ve showered and relaxed I rub lotion into Duff’s back and tight muscles and he smiles contentedly at me. “Curly Sue do you know how much I love you?” He asks.

“I’d like to think a lot,” I tease gently.

“Baby a lot doesn’t even cover it. You’re my whole world. If I lost you I’m not even sure how I could go on. If we argued back and forth and broke up like Izzy and Axl all the time I think I would probably die. I look at them and see how much they’re hurting each other and I just want to smack some sense into them and squeeze you even harder. We need to talk about some things though, not tonight, let tonight be peaceful and happy. I love you so much and that’s all I want to think about,” Duff says turning over, his eyes sparkling. “Lay down, let me rub your back, you made me so relaxed I want to return the favor; you’ll feel so much better.”

I do as he asks and he’s right; the massage is amazing. Even move amazing because it ends in a rim job and Duff takes me again from the back. He takes his time with me, softly caressing my back and my sides and my arms, placing soft kisses on my shoulders, and neck, and ears and cheeks, stroking my hair. I love it when he moves inside of me, his cock stroking my prostate hard and slow and says to me “I love you baby boy, you’re the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen. I’ve never been so in love in my whole life.”

“Me either Duff, I whimper as he teases me some more. You’re the one Duff, the only one I’m ever going to want or need, my whole heart and I want you to be forever.” Right at that second Duff very deliberately moved his dick down so the tip of it pushed right into my prostate as he pushed into me and I sucked in my breathe and exploded right then all over the sheets underneath me. I’ve never felt anything like that before; such a strong heart/body connection. I feel Duff’s climax begin and he fills me with his warmth as his seed spills out inside of me. “I love you my beautiful baby,” he sighs as he comes down from his high and then gently lays down on top of me, his chest pressed to my back for a minute just enjoying the afterglow. He threads his fingers through mine and I smile which earns me a soft kiss on the corner of the mouth. “You’re so beautiful, and I’m so happy with you,” Duff whispers.

“You make me happy too Duffy, happier than I’ve ever been in my entire life.” Eventually we get up and make it to the shower which is long and hot because the warm, soft, kisses between us seem endless. When we finally get out we slip on t-shirts and boxers and line the hammock with a thick, soft blanket from the bed and turn the ceiling fan on high. We grab another lighter blanket and carefully climb into the hammock hanging from the bedroom ceiling. It’s the most comfortable thing I’ve ever lain in. Duff and I wrap around each other and exchange whispered endearments in the dark. I didn’t need smack tonight to sleep or to forget; all I needed was the person that I’m pretty sure is my soulmate.