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Wild Is The Wind

by MaryJaneSixx 0 reviews

Izzy's world

Category: Guns n' Roses - Rating: R - Genres: Romance - Warnings: [V] [X] [R] - Published: 2017-06-28 - 1054 words


I look at the candle flickering on the bashed up little table on the back of the bus. Ritualistic, they say, of us junkies. We are as addicted to the ritual as we are to the high.

The flame, the burnt ornate silver spoon, the bubbling syrup darkening at the edges, until it acquires the perfect shade of brown. The dart, filling up with it with the heavenly nectar, the little drops that leak out of it when I press the plunger, and the smell of the alcohol soaked cotton and it's coolness hitting the skin. The rubber band, it's pressure like the caress of a lover, promising that the best it's yet to come. And then, the bite, as I call it, followed by the sweet numbness that spreads like liquid fire through my body. The high is not much of a high these days, not when you have someone my every move 24/7.

I push the thought out of my head. Axl is the last thing I want to think about now; I don't want to think. I want to enjoy...

I look at Slash, sprawled at the bed, curls everywhere, a blissed expression on his beautiful face; because by God, he is beautiful.

I curl up beside him inhaling his scent; whiskey and cigarettes and leather and I wonder why I feel so good when I'm alone with him. He understands me, he gets me, he admires me, and I feel young again; I feel fresh, I feel almost clean, like the dope, the rapes and the heartbreaks never existed. It's just him and I and our little cocoon of abandon and bliss.

We are tired. We are tired of being second best sometimes; although today is the only day I know of that Duff has openly betrayed him it's not the first time he's put Mandy first, even if it was by force and instead of saying no he just gave in to whatever demands were put on him. We are tired of the stupid label and tired after a long day and part of the night being locked in a studio all day recording the stupid “Sweet Child O'Mine” video, for stupid people to believe that it was written as a love token for Axl's stupid girlfriend. I am incensed by it, as much as I understand why, it was still my song; it was written for me. Geffen insisted we fill the video with our “girlfriends”, so Duff had to fly his wife in for it, Axl had to have Erin, Steven brought a girl he's getting serious with and Mandy brought a friend for me and Slash brought in a cute little groupie he picked up a couple of nights ago when he and Duff decided tits and pussy sounded like fun. They all posed love dovey and cozy with them, but I refused to take a shot with Suzette, the girl Mandy brought to pose as my girlfriend; doesn't mean Axl and I didn't double team her earlier though. I picked up at the pound and brought him to be my girlfriend in protest of having to pose with actual girls. So here I am, curled in the back of the bus with a broken hearted Slash, doped up to the gills, drunk, and I don't have the energy to be pissed off anymore. Axl and Duff are entertaining their “guests”, and Slash and I are entertaining ourselves. End of it.

I look at Slash lying there; that sweet baby face and beautiful fucking lips and I want to kiss him; so I do, up his arm, to the soft skin of his neck, sucking a little at his collar bond and he lets out a shaky moan. It's not even sexual; I can't get hard now even if I tried, the heroin is still kicking strong inside me. But I need to kiss and touch and feel him, so I run the palm of my hand under his t-shirt, feeling the hard muscles of his stomach and he hisses at the contact. I love him right now.

Right now, I love him more than anything in the world, and I'd be dammed if it ever blows in my face, but right here, right now, there's nowhere I'd rather be.


When I arrive back at the hotel, its almost daybreak. I expect the room to be empty, but Axl is sitting by the window smoking, the make up they applied on him for the video still in his eyes, and I feel a pang of guilt, because I still have the taste of Slash lips on my tongue, and his scent all over me. I close the door without a sound and head straight for the shower, but no amount of water will make me feel good about myself ever again.

I'm almost done washing my hair when Axl slips in with me, so I hand him the shampoo and watch the eyeliner run off his face. We haven't spoken a word yet, and I'm glad we could maintain this long silences between us now, because he is probably feeling as shit as I am, he's probably washing her scent of his body and the taste of her mouth from his tongue. The only thing is, he's interpreting my silence as anger. He feels guilty, and I feel guilty. But he doesn't know that, and if the world is to keep turning at it's axis, it's better for all of us if he never finds out.

“Izzy, I..”

I cut him off with my finger on his lips. No, please, don't excuse yourself. “Shush. It's ok. You did what you had to do.”

He nods and I step out of the shower. When he comes in to the bedroom, I'm lying on the bed smoking and my eyes taken his slender figure, his narrow hips, his copper hair, his perfect nose, and I know I'm a cheat, I know I'm perverted, I know I am deviant, and I know I love him like I love life itself.

He lays on top of me, and I get lost in the immensity of his eyes. I cling to him and sob.

I love him more than life itself, and right here, right now, theres nowhere I rather be.
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