Too Adorable

Very pleased that my #slaxl story ‘Sunset love’ is ranking high under #rock on Wattpad (out of 1000s), I wanna get it higher under #slaxl tho!! (Out of 165 😕) Id really appreciate if you could share and like my story,,follow me on Wattpad, (link in bio), not to mention read and vote!! 😍😍 https://www.instagram.com/p/CKe4jObs4R5/?igshid=3tvskx0alken

Sunset Love ch. 2: Four Walls

Slash lay there, staring up into the dark, feeling the weight of his friend's arm. Why was he not flinging it off? He felt its warmth seep into his skin. It was fucking cold in here now. Despite himself, he inched closer to the other man's body, seeking heat.

He was close enough now to feel Axl's breath through the t-shirt fabric on his shoulder. He remembered from when they first shared a bedroom last year, in Slash's mom's house, being surprised that a jumpy, talkative guy like Axl slept so soundly. His breath came slow and regular, in and out, soothing Slash's anxious mind. The pressure on his hip from the hard floor made him turn his aching body to the other side to seek relief.

Now Axl's breath was on his face. Slash could feel the body heat between them. What was he doing? Axl was a guy, remember? He, Slash, was a red-blooded male, who had slept with more girls than he could ever count, who liked nothing better than a pair of big tits and a wet pussy, who only last night had had some chick's legs wrapped around him up against the wall in the Rainbow car park...

Soft lips brushing against his. Sweet, tasting faintly of whisky.

What the fuck?

He found himself responding, pushing his lips against the other man's, allowing his lips to be gently prised open, feeling wet, persistent tongue exploring his mouth, gliding over his teeth, his gums, probing farther and farther til they were locked in a full-on, deep kiss that made his head swim more than any alcohol, any drug had ever done, and all he could be sure of was that he didn't want it to end.

He reached out and pulled the nape of Axl's neck towards him, feeling the soft baby hair at the hairline, pulling those beautiful, pillowy lips even harder against his own. He had forgotten how amazing this was. His body filled with delicious warmth. The image of sweet caramel came back into his mind.

In the dark, he felt Axl's arm tighten around him. Axl's knee come up over his waist, sliding over the hump of Slash's erection through his leather pants. Their noses switched sides as the kiss went on, hands in each other's hair, sliding over each other's necks, incredulous at what was happening, drinking each other in.

They broke off, gasping. Their jagged breathing cut through the dark and silence. Slash found his forehead at the other man's shoulder, feeling the bone through the warm skin. Axl's hand moved to his jaw, leaving one last gentle kiss on his mouth. He heard the rustle of skin on leather as the other man turned over, then silence.  

After a few seconds,  Axl's breath came slow and measured again. He was asleep.

Slash lay stunned, looking blindly into the dark. His head swirled crazily. Had that really just happened? There was no denying the swelling in the front of his pants, pressing almost painfully against the lace ties.

He knew only one cure for the cacophony of thoughts and feelings. He turned over and fumbled around the on floor for the bottle.

Shit. They'd drunk all the booze.

He felt his way along the block wall to the door and pushed it open. Milky dawn light was seeping across the sky over Guitar Center and the flat roofs of Sunset Boulevard beyond. The lot was empty. The ever present traffic hummed, at a lower volume than usual at this hour.

He closed the door quietly - the last thing he wanted was to wake Axl now. He shoved his hands into his pockets and headed up the alley in the direction of the nearest 24-hour liquor store.

Gorgeous piece of GNR fluff

𝖘𝖍𝖔𝖗𝖙 𝖘𝖙𝖆𝖈𝖐 (𝖘𝖑𝖆𝖘𝖍)

𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐛𝐲 𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧 𝐒𝐥𝐚𝐬𝐡 𝐱 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐆𝐮𝐧𝐬 𝐧’ 𝐑𝐨𝐬𝐞𝐬 𝐬𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐲𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐞: 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐢𝐬 𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐫𝐭 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐚𝐬𝐤𝐞𝐝 𝐒𝐥𝐚𝐬𝐡 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐚 𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐫𝐭. 𝐃𝐮𝐟𝐟 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐒𝐭𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐧 𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐫𝐨𝐨𝐦 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐝𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐝𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

Keep reading

Sunset Love ch. 4: I can’t stop myself

Getting up in the morning was never a problem for Slash. The gnawing craving for alcohol woke him every morning early, regardless of how much (or little) he'd slept the night before.

It was around one in the afternoon and he had been up for hours. He had fled the garage as soon as he'd woken that morning, not wanting to face Axl. He had put a stop to things the night before, mumbling something about being tired and jumping up into the loft to sleep. Alone - to be fair, Axl hadn't pushed it; he had stayed on the floor.

As soon as he was out on the street, Slash had forked over the last of his cash from his old newsstand job for a bottle of Jack, then called over to Izzy's place. Izzy's girlfriend was out, so the two spent an agreeable few hours on the sofa, putting away the whisky and talking about  the band.

"Hey, that reminds me," said Izzy, putting down the empty bottle on the shaky coffee table. "The rehearsal space is a fucking disaster, man."

"Whaddya mean?" said Slash, his head lolling pleasantly against the back of the sofa.

"You and Axl live there," replied Izzy. "Me, Duff and Stevie are gonna be there every fuckin' day - and probably a lot of nights. We gotta make it a bit more - I dunno, livable. We gotta fix up somewhere to sleep."

Through his whisky haze, Slash realised what Izzy was getting at.

"Right," he said. "A fuck space."

Izzy chuckled.

"Correct, my friend. I think you'll agree that the rehearsal space is going to be used for that purpose? I don't think any of us is keen to get it on with someone on that fuckin' hard-ass concrete floor."

Slash felt his face get warm. He dipped his head to take a long drag on his cigarette.

Izzy stood up and patted his pockets for his key.

"Uhhh...where we going?" said Slash.

Ten minutes later, Slash found himself ducking his head and following Izzy through a gap in a chain-link fence around into a construction site just off Clark Street. Despite his long history of shop-lifting and general pilfering, Slash was glancing around.

Izzy snorted. "It's Saturday, dude. Construction workers aren't like us - they don't work weekends."

He was right. No-one bothered them as they selected a few lengths of plywood and wooden blocks that were stacked against a wall. Ten minutes later again, they were pulling open the door to the studio on Sunset and Gardner.

Sunlight hit the bare walls inside, cutting through the dark. Incredibly, Axl had been still asleep  in his snakeskin jacket on the concrete floor. He didn't look too happy to see them.

"What the fuck?" Axl groaned, squinting.

"It's the afternoon, asshole," said Izzy, nudging Axl in the side with his toe and, with a grunt, letting the wood he'd been carrying crash to the floor.

Slash noticed the easy camaraderie between the old school friends. He was always more cautious when he talked to Axl. Everyone knew that Axl was a grenade, liable to explode at any moment.

"I'm here to do you a massive favour, Ax," Izzy declared. He started laying out the two-by-fours, then produced a box of nails and some tools from his pocket. "Slash and I realised this place is not very fucking hospitable to the so-called fair sex. Plus there's no space on the floor with all our gear. We're going to build a loft."

Slash spent the next few hours - alongside following Izzy's building instructions - discreetly observing Axl. He found it funny to see him doing manual labour - clearly unwillingly. Probably, Slash thought as he held pieces of wood while Izzy sawed and hammered, Axl felt it was beneath the job of a singer to labour with the rest of them. But Duff and Steven were nowhere to be seen and it was his home, so Axl had to muck in.

It was so sexy the way Axl clenched his jaw when he was annoyed or concentrating. Through his hair, Slash observed the muscles at the angle of Axl's jaw rise and fall. And the way his full lips pursed a little at the same time. Every so often, Slash got annoyed at himself, sneaking looks like a besotted school girl. But he couldn't help himself. Plus, the rehearsal space was tiny - ten by fourteen feet - so they were working literally shoulder to shoulder.

Try as he might, he couldn't stop sensations from last night coming back into his mind. Warm, smooth lips against his own. The sweet, coffee-like aroma of their sweat intensifying as they kissed, slowly, delicately. Breath coming fast and rough from their throats.

"I said hold it steady!" came Izzy's voice, irritated, waking Slash from his reverie.

Slash tried to concentrate. He and Axl were standing in among Steven's drums, holding over their heads the flat wooden structure they had nailed together, while Izzy hammered it to the small wood blocks he had attached to the wall. Slash glanced in Axl's direction and thought, fuuuck. The space had warmed up as the day wore on and Axl had discarded his jacket. He was bare-chested, ropes of muscles in his arms and abdomen on full display.

Slash closed his eyes, willing his twitching cock to be still. He was surprised to notice that sadness was mixed in with his lust. Yes, Axl was naturally strong, but the guy was also thin. The rest of the band, including himself, had mocked the sucked-in-cheeks look Axl had in their one band photoshoot so far. Slash now realised those cheekbones were so prominent because the guy had barely enough to eat.

Izzy was standing back and rubbing his palms on his pants.

"A good day's work, gentlemen!"

And there it was, their new loft. The living space in the studio had just increased by roughly fifty per cent. Just above head height, just enough space to hoist yourself up and roll in, perfect for their purposes. They regarded it with pride.

Slash sucked deeply on a fresh cigarette and frowned.

"Did we, like, just spend the afternoon doing home improvements?" he said.

***

"Man, I love that stuff!" shouted Steven, taking a long swallow and thrusting the bottle high into the night air.

It was around four in the morning on Palm Avenue, West Hollywood. The first shafts of daylight were beginning to tease the grey sky. The five of them were walking home from an uproarious night in Lizzy Grey's sleazy apartment with even sleazier chicks and some coke Duff had produced. They left when the coke was gone. They had pushed all the money they had between them - a few dollars - over the liquor store counter for two bottles of Night Train.

"Eighteen per cent," Axl was saying musingly, looking at the label on the bottle in his own hand. He grinned. "Bottoms up!"

"I'm on the Night Train," sang Duff, his head tilted back, his body full of coked-up energy .

Axl took up the snatch of melody and played with it, flinging his arm around Duff. The two stumbled along, singing out of sync and guffawing with laughter.

Slash trailed the rest of the group as they staggered across the junction onto Sunset. His emotions swirled, despite his attempts all evening to anaesthetise them with coke and booze. The afternoon of hard work cheek-by-jowl with Axl had been followed by an evening of being ignored. Axl literally hadn't looked at him the whole time in Lizzy's. And now to top it all off, here was he, Slash, finding himself simmering with jealousy at Axl and Duff.

He hadn't felt this down in a while. He caught up to Steven, grabbed the bottle and took a long, numbing swallow.

At the junction to Gardner Street, he waved half-heartedly and turned left, not bothering to check if Axl was coming. He made out the door of the studio and pulled out his key chain. The studio looked its usual disastrous state, the half-light throwing into relief the trash, the empty cans and bottles. But at least there was the loft. He summoned up the strength to heave himself up and let his aching body fall onto the flat surface. He surrendered his mind to blessed oblivion.

***

He had no idea how much time had passed when he heard the metallic bang of the studio door, then the familiar deep voice.

"Why'd you disappear, man?"

Slash said nothing. He didn't know what to say.

He heard a grunt, followed by cursing and rustling. Axl was swinging his legs into the loft and lying down beside him. The flash of a lighter briefly illuminated Axl's face, his lips balancing a cigarette. Slash felt a flash of annoyance at the warmth that flared low in his belly at the sight.

"You not talkin' to me or what?" came Axl's voice through the darkness.

"Shut the fuck up," grunted Slash, rolling over onto his side, his back to the other man.

There was silence for a moment. Then a hand on his arm. Slash rolled onto his back. He couldn't contain himself any longer.

"What the fuck is happening here, man?" burst out Slash. "Is this how it's going to be? You never speak to me or look at me all day, even in fucking rehearsals, then here at night you - you - we..." He couldn't find the words to finish.

He heard Axl blow out slowly, his breath controlled. The aroma of tobacco filled the air in the tiny space.

"I don't know either, man," came Axl's voice finally, quiet and measured. "I - I don't know. I just can't stop myself touching you."

OMG look how cute Slash is here ❤️ thank you @solpadawan for this

Look at the way he sits down, the way he lights his cigarette and shakes out the match, the way he grips his hair at the back, the way he looks into the audience and beams with the biggest smile because he's so happy to see everyone excited

I will never get over how absolutely adorable Slash is :')

Sooo true

A few things I (a fanfiction writer) want you to know

 I write fanfiction because I love the characters and ships I write. I’m not a published author, nor am I trying to become one. I’m here because I got obsessed with a stupid tv show. That’s it. 

Kudos and/or comments fuel me more than you can imagine. 

Every day, I get a ‘You’ve got Kudos!’ email. Every day, I open it. I take note of which of my fics have been given kudos. I take note of the usernames I find there. If you’ve left kudos on one of my fics before, I’ll recognize you. I take a moment to appreciate your support. I feel validated and inspired after this. 

When someone comments on one of my fics for the first time, I go ‘Oh hey there, new friend. Welcome to my world.’

If you’ve commented on one of my fics more than once, I know you. I’ve checked out your profile, your works, your bookmarks. When I see your username, I feel like I’m meeting a friend. I’m like ‘This is the person who likes the same rarepair I do.’ - ‘This is the lover of fluff/smut/angst fics.’ I remember.

I read every comment I ever get, many of them more than once. I try to answer them all. I’m not always fast with that, but I promise you, I appreciate the hell out of your feedback. Sometimes people ask me why I’m grinning so dumbly down at my phone, and many times it’s because I just got a new comment. You’re making my day with this. 

Sometimes I get a comment on a WIP I haven’t updated in a while, and in most cases, it motivates me to get the next chapter out. You’re reminding me why I started writing this story. You’re making me want to finish it. 

When I feel down and unable to write, I go back to the comments on stories that mean a lot to me personally. They give me new life. I treasure them. You have no idea how long they stick with me. 

My ask box is always open. You want to express an opinion on my writing anonymously? You have a prompt, an idea, a wish? You probably don’t know how easy I am to persuade to write something. Honestly, try it. 

No fic is too old to comment on it. Never. 

If you’re too shy to leave a comment, you are valid. I’m happy to have you as a reader. I’m a crazy fangirl like you. I’m dying to talk to you. If you can’t, that’s perfectly fine though. 

If you don’t know what to comment, believe me when I say that it doesn’t matter as long as it isn’t rude. You’re too tired to leave a proper comment? I read fics at 2am too my friend, I understand. You don’t know how to put your thoughts into words? You can literally leave me a HI and I’ll be happy about it. 

If you’re too shy to comment in English because you’re not a native speaker, you’re valid. You’re good enough to read fics in this language, you can be proud of that. I know how to use a translator. You may comment in whatever language you want to. I’m not a native speaker either, I’ve long stopped trying to sound like one. I take no shame in that. 

If you have ever taken time out of your day to read one of my stories, I appreciate you so much. If you have ever hit the kudos button on one of my stories, I appreciate you so much. If you have ever written me a comment, shared your genuine feelings about my writing with me, you are responsible for a big, stupid smile on my face and a significant bit of motivation. 

Thank you!

Gorgeous Slash-Y/N piece, it’ll give you the feels 💕

Birthday boy

Pairing: Slash / Saul Hudson x reader

Info: Smut [oral on male] and fluff; 1906 words;

Summary: Y/N gives Slash a little gift on the morning of his birthday, but it turns out that Slash had a much bigger gift hidden. One that they could both enjoy, for a really long time…

A/N: Hey loves <3 A little birthday piece for our boy Slash. I regret not writing these pieces for the other boys (and I blame my brain for only coming up with an idea to celebrate AFD’s birthday only at the end of the day when I could no longer write…) but, hopefully, Guns N’ Roses will be a fandom where I stay active for a long time, so I will be here to write the boys their well-deserved fics. 

Continuar a ler

Sunset Love ch. 8: The hour before dawn

AN: Here’s the next part in my Slaxl fic. Hope you like it! If you do, please Reblog, share, Like, etc. xx

***

Slash sucked deeply on the reefer someone had passed him, leaned back his head and blew up a long, slow stream of aromatic smoke at the sky. 

It was sometime in the darkest part of the night, before dawn. His head swirled as he surveyed the blackness above. The noise in the lot outside their rehearsal space off Sunset and Gardner - music from a ghetto blaster, voices, laughter, bottles breaking, cans crunching, grunts from people fucking - was all around him, but he felt remote from it, disconnected.

A dull pain rumbled somewhere in his gut. He couldn't identify it ... He closed his eyes. Oh yes. He remembered. He had fucked some chick and Axl was giving him the silent treatment. In fact, he hadn't seen him since they left the Whisky.

Rage swelled in Slash's throat. He had known this ... thing... between him and Axl was a bad idea. He shook his head. He had been drunk, high, lonely, let his guard down... whatever. And now look where they were: Axl breaking his balls, acting like a fucking teenage girl. 

He shoved the reefer into someone's hand and pushed his way through the crowd in the lot, looking around him. He was going to have it out with that motherfucker once and for all.

He searched all over the lot and the alley. No sign. Slash elbowed his way past some people and pushed through the half-open door to their rehearsal space. He heard a female voice moaning and looked up to the loft. In the half-light cast by a lamp on the floor, he made out Axl, his face buried in some girl's breasts, his ass humping energetically between her thighs. 

Slash stood, frozen, for a second. Axl must have heard him come in because he lifted his head. When he saw it was Slash, an expression crossed his face... what was it? Through the haze in his head, Slash realised it was... vengeful.

Slash stumbled out the door. Appalled, he felt tears pricking behind his eyeballs. What the fuck? He wasn't seriously upset? 

He went and stood at end of the alley where it opened into Gardner Street, the party roaring  behind him. He pulled a crumpled pack of Marlboros out of his back pocket, lit up with shaking hands, inhaled and closed his eyes. 

Footsteps on the ground behind him. A rough hand at his shoulder, pulling him around.

They stood facing each other. Slash sucked coolly on his cigarette. Its brief glow highlighted  Axl's face, his lips pressed together in a snarl. No fucking way am I saying anything, thought Slash. Let's see if the amazing lyricist has the balls to talk first.

Slash couldn't help smirking when Axl opened his mouth.

"Your little performance in the Whisky didn't mean shit to me, asshole."

Slash couldn't help having a little fun. He widened his eyes. 

"You didn't like my playing?"

Axl's eyes narrowed and Slash saw the muscles in his jaw tighten.

"Funny. Making eyes at that chick all night. Making sure everyone saw you going into the restrooms with her. Acting like the big fucking stud coming back out." 

Axl shoved his hands into the back pockets of his leather trousers. He was clearly trying hard to be cool but his chest was heaving.

Slash frowned.

"Are you kidding, man? That chick gave me the eye first, not the other way around. And I don't give a fuck who did or didn't see." 

Slash exhaled his last drag and ground the cigarette under his toe. He steeled himself. He was going to say it.

"What the fuck do you care, anyway? We fuck chicks, that's what we do, what we've always done. I did it tonight, you did it tonight. Who gives a fuck?"

Axl was looking at his own toes now. He rubbed a hand over his mouth and turned away. 

Slash turned away too and looked down Gardner at the intersection with Sunset Boulevard. A solitary car sped through, going west, and disappeared into the night. The low, ever-present, night-time hum resumed. There were hours to go yet before the day's din began. 

His head ached. A familiar emptiness was gnawing at the edges of his consciousness. What was he doing with his life?

"Slash." 

That voice. That deep rumble. It made his goofy nickname sound like poetry.

"I -". 

An exhale, almost like a gasp. Slash looked around. Axl's back was still turned, he was still looking at the ground. Was he actually stuck for words?

"What?" snapped Slash, a harsh tone to his voice. He wasn't going to make it easy.

Another exasperated breath.

"I - I didn't like it." Another pause before Axl continued. "You and the chick in the Whisky. It - it made me pretty fucking pissed. Okay? You happy now?"

Slash felt warmth seep through his belly. Axl was jealous and... Slash realised he liked it.

Axl's arm was cold when Slash reached out and pulled him around as Axl had done to him minutes before. He folded the other man into his arms.

"Jesus fucking Christ," hissed Axl. Slash felt himself being pushed roughly up against the wall around the corner from the alley opening. 

"D'you want someone to see us?" Axl demanded, his face close to Slash's.

For a split second he thought Axl was about to beat the shit out of him. Then he felt the other man enveloping him in his arms and burying his face in Slash's neck. 

Slash slowly circled his arms around Axl's sinewy torso and stroked the back of Axl's head, equal mixtures of relief and arousal flooding through him.

"I'm fucking pissed at you, too," he said softly into Axl's hair.

He felt Axl's ribcage contort with a chuckle. 

"That girl there?" Axl's voice came muffled against the fabric on Slash's shoulder. "I totally did that to get back at you, man."

Slash held his friend tight, drinking in his scent, a sweet blend of sex, sweat, smoke, whisky, and something else, something undefinable that was just pure Axl. His head was swimming again, but not from weed this time. Axl had shown vulnerability. 

Slash felt Axl lift his head and slowly, cautiously, touch the tip of his nose to Slash's. That cute, adorable nose. Slash gently kissed it, the soft skin around it, then moved his lips down. Their mouths met hesitantly, almost carefully, as if they were mindful not to hurt each other again. The kiss deepened slowly as they held each other even more tightly, Axl's pillowy lips so incredibly soft and yielding, Slash drinking in the taste of him. Their tongues found each other and intertwined, harder now, searching inside each other's mouths more urgently, hands grasping in each other's hair. 

Axl pulled his mouth away, his breath coming hot and fast.

"I want you, Slash," he whispered, pushing his forehead against Slash's, eyes closed.

"I want you too," said Slash.

Without another word, they made for their door in the alley, heads down, not looking at anyone. A quick glance inside showed it was empty. Axl pulled the door shut after him and fumbled for his keychain in the dim lamplight. Slash heard the grind of the lock in the metal door.

Their bodies slammed together, hands everywhere, pushing off clothes, pulling at belt buckles. Slash yanked off Axl's pants, followed by his own. He had never felt such want; he wanted all of Axl, every part of him, now. Their mouths sucked at each other greedily, teeth pierced delicate lips, the taste of blood tinged Slash's tongue and it was good, so good. 

"Loft," panted Axl.

Sunset Love ch.10: Not any more

Slash got to his knees over Axl, his legs still trembling as his orgasm dissipated. He placed a hand each side of Axl's head and propped himself on his palms, looking down on the other man's face. The cheap wooden boards of their makeshift loft scraped against his skin but the blissed-out feeling pooling throughout his body killed the discomfort.

To his surprise, Axl flipped himself over and got to his knees, too. Slash found himself looking down at Axl's bare back.

Then all other thoughts vanished from Slash's mind as he regarded the naked ass beneath him.

Yes, he had seen it often enough, encased in shiny black leather, on stage; he had even seen it mostly bare when Axl performed in his infamous assless chaps. He had never given it much thought before - he was usually so preoccupied with his playing, not to mention drunk or high, or both.

What had he been thinking? he asked himself. It was the curviest, tightest, most perfectly shaped ass he had ever seen.

He reached out a hand and stroked the soft, smooth buttocks, then lowered his head and pulled his lips and nose across the skin. With delight, he heard the other man's soft moans as he buried his face in the softness.

Axl turned his head to the side for a moment and said quietly, "I want to feel you inside me."

Slash's cock, already hard again, twitched at the words. He looked on in amazement as Axl arched his back so that his buttocks parted slightly, exposing his beautiful asshole. Slash moved his hips from side to side so that his cock, stiff and slick with precum, grazed off one buttock, then the other, a thread of shiny, sticky liquid connecting the tip of his cock to Axl's skin, while Axl groaned in pleasure.

Remembering his own pain moments before, Slash scooped a palmful of his own cum, still sticky on his belly, down to his cock and lubricated himself. He ran his fingers around Axl's hole and inside as well, adding spit for good measure, while Axl breathed raggedly and raised his ass higher in a silent plea.

Oh sweet fucking Christ, thought Slash as he finally pushed the gleaming, swollen tip of his cock against the opening of Axl's ass. The other man's skin was tight, yet yielding. Their moans mingled as Slash pushed oh so gently inside.

Fuck, Axl was tight, so much tighter than pussy; Slash felt his cock being squeezed hard; it was a weird sensation, still new to him, but it was fucking amazing. He had a hand on each of Axl's buttocks now, lightly keeping them apart to allow him to plunge himself farther, deeper, as the other man responded by pushing back against him. Slash withdrew slightly, then pushed in again, and again, till he was balls deep inside, his groin pressed against that perfect ass.

Slash felt a lump rise in his throat at the feeling that part of his body was literally inside Axl's, at how they were now as close as they could possibly be, their bodies fused. His head swam and he realised it was awe at the beauty of what they were doing, at the intimacy they were sharing. He buried his face in the warm skin between Axl's shoulder blades, glad that Axl couldn't see his face or the tears threatening in his eyes.

Slash felt for Axl's outstretched arms against the wooden boards and grasped the backs of Axl's hands, intertwining their fingers. His plunges were coming harder and faster, unstoppable now, his cock pulsing as Axl moved with every thrust; he felt Axl's insides clench around his length; he lost all control and cried out "Axl, Axl" as he emptied himself into his friend, exploding load after load into the beautiful body.

They collapsed, Slash chest-down on Axl's back. They lay, rib cages heaving, hands still entwined, panting, sweating, spent.

After a minute, Axl shifted and Slash rolled off him. They lay side by side on their backs, arms touching, sweat mingling. They looked each other full in the face. Slash's impulse was to look away but he forced himself to maintain eye contact. Axl's gaze was steady, unflinching, the green eyes turned grey in the dim light from the lamp on the floor below.

"That was - " said Axl, then stopped.

"I know," muttered Slash.

"What is this?"

"I don't fucking know," said Slash.

Another pause. The only sounds were their breathing, slowing gradually, and the distant hum of early-morning traffic. Slash slowly remembered that there was a world outside these four walls. He pushed the thought aside. He wanted to stay here, in their spell, inside.

The corners of Slash's mouth turned up as he recalled the previous evening. It seemed like an eternity ago. Had Axl really been jealous of some random chick Slash had hooked up with in the Whisky toilets? Had he really gone looking for Axl, determined to end this thing once and for all?

"You not jealous any more?" Slash said with a sly grin.

Axl smiled back.

"Guess not," he said, and turned his eyes up to the ceiling.

After a moment, Axl turned his face back to Slash and said, "I want to own you."

Slash didn't know what to say. There was no need. Axl leaned over, grabbed Slash's shoulders, pressed his lips to Slash's neck and began to suck, hard.

"Ow!"

Slash flinched and tried to pull back but Axl was holding him tight. After a few seconds, Axl let go and surveyed his work with a satisfied look.

"Did you just give me a hickey, motherfucker?" demanded Slash, rubbing the tender spot on his neck, not knowing whether to be pleased or outraged.

"I've marked you. That means you're mine," said Axl in such a deeply sexy voice that Slash couldn't be annoyed. His head and chest filled with what he guessed was happiness.

He leaned over and kissed Axl softly. Axl returned the kiss. They nestled into each other's arms and fell asleep.