FicWad

Duff

I sit alone in the dark with just the TV Illuminating the room. My left hand is chopping down coke on the table next to me, my right brings a bottle of vodka t my lips. I don't sleep much anymore. I spend my nights watching Slash sleep. It's like this OCD thing I've developed, stay awake and watch my Curly Sue. I know that at any given moment Nikki could swoop in on his fucking black jet with the big naked chick straddling a bomb on it and grab Slash so fast that if I blinked I'd miss it. I just can't let him down anymore. I want to be his hero. I know I have to stay sharp and keep my fucking eyes open in order to do that. Seriously, it gives me great anxiety when I start to feel sleepy. Thank-you George Jung for bringing coke to the states. It's like my only answer to staying awake, and the vodka, well it takes the edginess off and the coke takes the drunkenness away. I don't see how a prescription happy doctor could do any better than I was.

I run my coke coated finger across my gums and lay my head back waiting on the drain I can't even taste anymore, my whole goddamn face in numb. I pour some vodka in my mouth and swallow it down just staring up at the flashes from the TV on the ceiling. They were like really soothing actually. I quickly raise my head. If I get too comfortable I will just fall asleep. I can't fucking do that. I've gotta stay awake so I can watch Slash sleep in peace. I reposition in the chair with a sigh and brush my hair out of my face. I reach my hands up to my nose and unclasp my nose ring. I pull it out and lay it down. The coke is starting to corrode the metal. I really need to invest in one made out of surgical steel or gold or something coke proof. I look over to the coke and break down some more. I grab the straw and suck it up my nose. I grab it and snort deeply trying to unclog it.

My attention gets diverted to Slash giggling in his sleep. I smile as I watch his smile fade back to his sleep face. He's so fucking cute when he sleeps. Except when he having nightmares. I'm glad to see that tonight good dreams seem to have found him. I don't remember how long it's been since I dreamed period. Fuck, when did I actually sleep last? I don't remember much more than cat naps when I know everyone else is around in weeks. I'm so fucking tired. All I want to do is lay my head on a pillow, wrap Slash up in my arms and sleep...for like a whole week. This tour could not be fucking over soon enough man.

I've gotta stand up. I've gotta walk off the urge to fall asleep. I grab the vodka and give it one last tug before I sit it down to pace myself awake. I chew at my fingernails as I watch Slash all alone in that big comfortable fucking bed. I don't think he notices that I never even come to bed anymore. I give him his nightly shot and he goes to bed while I sit in vigil all nght. I guess he thinks I just wake up before him everyday. I really didn't want to hear him ride my ass about staying up on coke for days...maybe weeks on end. He would force me to go to sleep. Even if it took shooting me up. But I just can't risk the sleep. Six probably knows every time I take a shit, much less sleep. That's the sort of thing he would do too, wait a motherfucker out, catch you off guard. I can't get off guard, I just fucking can't.

My eyebrow twitches as I pass by Sleeping Beauty again. I guess I could think of a couple more creative ways of staying awake besides pacing the fucking room like a coked out drunk idiot. Yeah, I can definitely come up with something more fun. I glance to the clock on the wall. It's about 5:00 am. Slash has had more hours of sleep than I have in...well however fucking long it's been. I walk back over to the vodka bottle and turn it up. I polish it off and stroll back to The side of the bed. I gently grasp the covers and slowly pull them back. The TV dances across his naked form turning his skin different shades of color. He was like an Andy Warhol painting, but way more beautiful.

I lower myself to my knees beside the bed. I rest my head on the edge peering up at Slash. I can't not fucking smile at him. I never imagined I could love someone so much. My eyes slowly travel down his to his sparse chest hair. I take one of his curls and loop it around my finger. It springs back in place when I let it go. I trail my hand gently down his chest. He breathes in deeply and slightly stirs. I reach out and wrap my hand around his soft dick. It was intimidating even limp. I really loved his fucking cock. It was an additional addiction, I guess you could say. I move in and ready my mouth over him. I swirl my tongue around the tip of his dick while my free hand traces little circles just above his pubes. He draws in another breath and stretches his arms up. His eyes slightly part and he looks at me. A lazy smile comes to his face as his hand finds its way into my hair.

"Morning," I smile and flick my tounge across his quickly hardening dick.

"Is it?" He asks and looks at the clock. "Duff...it's fucking five in the morning...it's not really morning..."

"Well...in Australia it's like 5:00 pm," I shrug and lick up his shaft.

"Babe...this is Florida..."

"Uh uh," I shake my head with my mouth suctioned around him. "It's the red center baby boy. I just saved a baby from a dingo and threw another shrimp on the Barbie. And after that I thought we might go crocodile hunting mate," I say in what is probably the lamest Aussie accent.

Slash busts out laughing, "Oh baby you know how I love reptiles."

"Yes I do," I nod and hiss up his dick like a snake.

"Mmmm," he coos softly and clenches my hair tighter, "well now that you have my attention, what are you planning on doing with it?" He raises a curious eyebrow.

"Ah, you know it's whatever...if you'd rather sleep..." I smile and raise up a bit.

Slash pushes my head back down, "Nope, I'm up, I'm good."

I smile, "I thought you might say that."

**
That night at the show we ended up waiting around for Axl to work through some bullshit reason for not being ready in time. Izzy's chilling, drinking, snorting, flirting and generally having a good time so we know it's nothing serious with Axl. Probably another case of the missing contact, that's always his favourite comeback excuse for just going off the fucking deep end. But Izzy's content so the rest of us are too. Izzy takes the dollar bill in his hand and leans over a topless chick to get to the line. She starts playing around with his fly. He smirks and shorts up the line.

"Jeffery Dean Isbell!?!" Says a completely astounded male voice.

All of our heads snap to the door. We see Axl standing there with some old guy. The look on his face is a perfect mixture of shock and disgust. I look over at Izzy who drops the dollar from his nose with a gaping jaw and quickly starts taking his dick away from he chick who's unleashed it in all its glory.

"Dad!" Izzy utters in confusion as he tries to get his dick back in his pants.

Axl is rolling his eyes but no one but me notice I think.

"W...what are you doing here?" Izzy asks trying his damnedest to play shit off cool. Yeah, wasn't working on pops.

"Surprising you," Axl answers, "I called him."

Izzy just stares blankly at Axl. Izzy's dad just turns on his heels and bails.

"Dad wait!," Izzy calls out and chases after him.

I look up at Axl who just sighs and drops his head shaking it slightly. Then he looks at me since I'm the only one feeling brave enough to look him in the eye. "Did you motherfuckers have to start the after party before the fucking show?"

"There was nothing else to do, we were waiting," I shrug.

Axl just shakes his head in disappointment and frustration and leaves.

Slash looks at me, "Dude, what the fuck just happened?"