FicWad

The police keep coming and going. They want to interview us again and again, trying to work out if what Axl is saying is the truth or outright lies. At the moment Slash is elsewhere in the house, being interrogated while I sit here in the kitchen. It's hard to talk about everything that's gone on. It's tough when they repeatedly ask the same questions over and over. How? Why? Did you provoke him? Because I'm a bastard, again because I'm a bastard and yes, I suppose I did provoke him. The hardest parts to talk about is Slash walking in on us and the death of his mother. I've seen him afterwards, just looking haggard and drawn, eyes stained red with tears.

"So." The officer sips at his coffee, staring at me over the top of the cup. "Let me get this straight. You and Bailey were together in Indiana, but he beat you so you left and came here?"

I nod, eyes not connecting with him, just going through the motions.

"So why'd you hook up with him again?"

I sigh and place my mug back on the table. "Because he was threatening everyone. If I didn't get back together with him he'd kill Saul, my mother and then me. He killed Saul's mother. You've seen what he's going through. He's a fuckin' kid and the bastard robbed him of his mother."

The officer looks at me, obviously bored. He's obviously dealt with a million cases like this before. He picks up his pen and begins to write again.

"So we've got Bailey on first degree murder. But he didn't fire the gun and he's protesting his innocence. They all fuckin' do it, right from the beginning right up until we gas 'em. The ballistics experts don't think it'll hold. His hand wasn't on the gun when it went off so it'll probably be manslaughter. If we can prove it, we might be able to get him on rape, bodily harm and kidnap. Unfortunately, your boyfriend won't be a reliable witness because, let's face it, he's your boyfriend. And the only other witness is sadly dead." He puts the pen down and stares at me from cold, blue eyes. "I'm sorry Mr. Isbell, but unless you can prove some of the allegations Mr. Bailey will soon be a free man." He shrugs. "Did you ever go to the hospital after he beat or raped you?"

Sighing, I shake my head, closing my eyes as I do. "I couldn't afford it. Besides, who'd believe that a guy was raped?"

I hear the pen hit the pad and I open my eyes to see him looking at me.

"You'd be amazed," the officer replies, his voice softening. "You're not the first case and you won't be the last." He sighs. "Look, we'll get you a lawyer, okay? This may well go to court but we're going to need all the proof we can get. The guy I've got in mind is great and once I speak to him he may even do it for free. He's a sucker for stuff like this." He smiles a little. "But it's gonna mean a few trips to the hospital. They'll wanna take a look at you, see if they can find anything. It's gonna be intrusive but you'll be fine."

He stands, picking up his pen and pad, tucking them under his arm as he offers me a hand. I shakily stand, taking his hand and shaking it.

"Thanks," I whisper.

He smiles a crooked little smile. "Not a problem. We'll be in touch."

I nod, watching as he leaves before collapsing back into the chair. Fuck! So it could swing either way. Either he's going to wind up dying or he's going to wind up free. My stomach knots and I can feel myself wanting to vomit as the memories of what he did flash through my mind. Stumbling to the kitchen sink, I grip the side and heave my guts down the plughole. Again and again I wretch, my muscles screaming as my body stiffens against the work surface. Panting, I rest my head against the stainless steel sink, watching my vomit trickle away.

Suddenly a hand strokes my back and a voice whispers, "How you doin'?"

Weakly I turn and look at Slash. Yet again his eyes are ringed red, still glazed with tears. I don't know if I want to know what he's been talking about. Yet here he is, having probably talked about his mother's death, and looking after me. The perpetual fuck up. He picks up a cloth and gently wipes my mouth clean before pressing a kiss to my lips.

"What did they say?" he quietly asks.

I shrug and sigh, dropping my eyes from his. "It looks like Axl may get off."

The air in the room changes and I look up to see Slash's eyes flare. A shiver runs through me as I recognise the anger. The anger he shows towards Axl. The anger he showed towards me.

"If he gets off," he hisses. "I'll personally hunt him down and kill him."

I nod and wrap an arm around his waist, leaning against him, tired and exhausted. This whole "Will he? Won't he?" bullshit is sapping me of the will to live. I want it over and done with. I want to know whether I can stay in California or if we need to move. Because if he's released then we're going to be spending the rest of our lives running. Running until we, or someone else, finally takes him out. The only constant through all of this is Slash. Despite everything I've done, despite every fuck up, he's willingly stayed by my side.

He sighs and rests his head against mine, moving and gently kissing my hair. His strong arms wrap around me and he lifts me up, cradling me against him. A weak smile ghosts his lips as he moves to kiss me.

"Come on," whispers Slash. "Let's go get comfortable."

He walks towards the basement and excited trepidation fills my stomach. The basement is a special place that we hide away in when the going gets tough and ugly, now filled with wonderful and exciting toys.

He carries me slowly down the stairs, being careful not to trip or fall. Butterflies fill my stomach as I anticipate what's going to happen next. Tenderly Slash sets me on the floor, smiling as he does before pressing a soft kiss to my lips. I return his smile, my heart filled with a love I'd forgotten I had. Slowly, teasingly, he undresses me. My cock twitches into hardness, knowing what's coming next.

Once I'm naked, Slash pulls the black box from beneath the bed, ritualistically taking the key from his neck and unlocking it. I rock on the balls of my feet, slowly stroking my cock. I know it's the last time I'm going to be touching it for a while.

With a smile, Slash stands, padded leather cuffs in his hands. Stepping forward, he gently kisses me before walking behind me. I twitch and shiver, as he removes my hands from my cock, gently pulling them behind me. First the cuffs are attached to my wrists, the padding soft and reassuring against my skin. Then a thick, leather strap is wrapped around my upper arms.

Everything Slash does here in the basement is done with an awful lot of care and touching. As the strap tightens, he lays kisses along my spine until he reaches my butt. Straining, I look over my shoulder and see him on his knees. He gives me a small smile as he kisses my ass, nipping as I shiver and moan. He slides my legs apart and pushes a spreader bar between them, wrapping more leather cuffs around my ankles. I groan, my cock rock hard against my stomach as Slash pulls my arm taunt behind my back, clipping them to a chain suspended in the ceiling. I'm completely immobile, bent forward at a strange angle and, despite Axl having tied me up and beaten me, I actually quite enjoy it. Slash is a million miles from Axl, making it warm, loving and completely consensual.

A loud groan escapes my lips as my ass cheeks are pushed apart and a warm, wet kiss placed to my hole. Hands stroke between my legs, not touching my cock, but teasing me with gentle strokes along my perineum. Something slips down my cock, tightening at the base and I let out a moan of disgust; Slash isn't going to let me come that easily.

The tongue and fingers carry on, sending shudders of pleasure through me. Eventually he pulls back, placing one last kiss against my buttocks before standing in front of me. His eyes are soft and filled with love as he strokes my face, kissing me. I purr quietly, kissing him back and pushing my tongue into his mouth. I want him, desperately want him to do things to me. I want him to whip me and fuck me and make me his. Over and over again. I want to see our blood smeared together on my skin, want to know that it is what bonds us. What brings us together in this beautiful union. This beautiful marriage.

He smiles, his hand gently stroking my throat.

"What do you want Izz?" he whispers.

I grin and bare my teeth, purring a little louder. "Hurt me and fuck me Slash."

He returns my grin and I watch as he goes to a corner and carefully selects a cane. Still grinning, he runs it through his fingers, taunting and teasing me. I gasp as he lets the tip trail down my cheek. It trails lower, down my body and over my cock, making it twitch and me grit my teeth even harder. Slash lets out a low laugh and walks behind me. There's a painful silence and I mentally prepare myself. This is going to hurt but it's what I want. I want the pain, need the pain, need to be able to feel again. I love and need Slash, need him to make me whole again. And he's more than willing to do this. He seems to like being in control and I like him being in control. Makes me know I'm wanted and needed.

I howl as the cane bites into my ass, stretching against my bonds as it comes again and again. The snap of it against my skin is heavy in the air, repeating over and over again. Again and again I howl and cry, tears beginning to stain my face. But they're not the same tears I shed for Axl. These are tears of need, tears of want, tears of years of repressed anger and hate, all coming out.

Eventually the beating stops and I feel the cane fall to the floor behind me. Then Slash is pressed up against me, teeth nipping my ear as he growls and rubs himself against me.

"Know what I'm going to do to you now?" he purrs.

I swallow and pant, trying to push myself back against him. I can feel his erection, nestled between my buttock, still hidden in his pants. A moment later and the leather has been replaced by his naked cock. His hands grip my hips as he rubs himself against me, working his prick between my buttocks. I pant and squirm, desperate for him to be in me, desperate to come.

Then he's in me, pushing himself deep as I let out a groan. Strong hands tightly grip my hips as he carefully rocks me. Too much and he'll break me for real. And the last thing we need is another trip to the hospital. I can hear him panting, his warm breath washing over my neck as he whispers my name. The tears still stain my face as I respond, his name forever on my lips.

I want to come, I'm desperate to come but I can't. The harder I get, the more the cock ring tightens. My teeth grind together and I struggle a little, panting and moaning. Slash's voice gets a little louder and I know he's getting close. A hand slides from my hips and to my cock, quickly releasing the cock ring. I scream Slash's name, coming hard and long, my come arching through the air to join the rest of the stains on the carpet. A second later and Slash is screaming, his hot come filling me. He carries on thrusting for a little longer, his come dripping down between my legs.

Then he's pulling out and releasing me, gently lowering me to the floor as his hands shakily unbuckle everything. Then he's pulling me into his lap, tears on his own cheeks and hungrily kissing me.

"I love you," he whispers. "I love you so fuckin' much and I'm never letting you go."

That's all I need to hear before I begin to bawl my eyes out.

Dear Izzy,

Seriously dude, what's going on? I'm sitting here in a prison cell and I'm desperately waiting to hear from you. Please Izz, I'm begging you. Please write. I need to hear from you. I need to know that you're okay. I need to know that you're still alive. Please don't forget me. Please don't let me rot here.

Love,
Bill.