Big News At The Start Of A New Week ... My #slaxl Story Sunset Love Has Reached 100 Kudos On AO3!! 🎉*does

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=m8gjlcpz44en

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.

OMG OMG Slash gave up his snakes for his baby!!! *heart melts into a puddle*

Sunset love ch. 6: Inside

AN: Welcome back! I've been working on this part for a while... here it is.

Slash felt Axl's weight lifting off his chest. His knees were pushed up and back towards his ears. Axl's hands moved feather-light down Slash's thighs to his ass. Discomfort flashed through Slash as his ass cheeks spread. He had never felt so exposed before.

"I'm spitting, OK?" came Axl's throaty whisper. Slash nodded again. A slick, wet finger pressed to his opening and he whimpered involuntarily.

"Is this OK?" said Axl, pausing.

Christ, his concern was so arousing. Slash nodded again and the finger pressed in, inside his body, farther in now, creating pressure deep in his groin and at his lower back that was so alien, so strange, but... good. Axl slid his finger out a little only to push into Slash's hole again, this time with two fingers. Slash jerked with a jolt of pain as his ass stretched inside. Axl's breath was at his ear.

"Good pain?"

"I - don't know," Slash whispered back. His fingers were clamped to Axl's back and his head rested against his sweat-slicked chest. "Try again."

The pressure came again, slowly, so slowly. Slash felt Axl's finger press into him again. It hurt and he flinched. Axl instantly pulled out.

"Sorry, I - " said Slash, flushing inwardly. He cursed himself. He had said he wanted it, now he was wasn't sure.

"Hold on," whispered Axl. Slash felt him kneel up again and push himself off. Slash frowned. Had he ruined it?

Slash heard rummaging - it sounded like fabric. Then Axl was back, his mouth over Slash's again, hot breath in his face.

"I got this earlier," came the deep voice. "Lube."

Slash slowly understood.

"I - I was hoping, you know..." said Axl, then trailed off. Slash flushed, this time with pleasure. Axl  had gone to the trouble - and embarrassment - of getting lube. He really wanted to be with him.

"It's OK," whispered back Slash, his hand reaching for Axl's face. "I - want to."

More rustling, then pressure again. Axl's fingers were much smoother this time. They slipped inside him, still slowly. Slash gasped. It was - it was still weird but... good.

"Better?" said Axl, pausing.

Slash nodded, biting his lips together. He felt Axl's fingers push farther inside him, then curl. The most intense sensation he had ever experienced shot through his body. He gasped and jerked his head up.

"You like that, baby?"

Axl's voice was deeper than ever, arousal reverberating in every syllable. Slash could barely nod.

"I'm going to push in now, OK?"

Slash nodded again. He felt a release of pressure as Axl withdrew his fingers, then stroke more lube around and inside his entrance. Axl moved his hands and supported himself on them, his hair hanging into Slash's face.

Slash felt intense pressure at his hole as Axl pushed into him again but this was different, so different, in such a fucking good way. A whole new sensation invaded him and Slash braced himself with his elbows, pulling his knees up more and raising his hips to meet Axl's, which were grinding against his crotch now, plunging deeper into him. A little pain again but Slash thrust himself forward some more, chasing the incredible pleasure from a few moments before. Axl moaned in delight at Slash's response and thrust forward again and again. He felt Axl's cock pulsate inside him. He pressed his face into Axl's, the other man's hot breath in his mouth, their foreheads together, and he thought he would die of intimacy.

Axl's body began to shudder and Slash realised Axl was losing control, that his hips were pushing on their own now. The shuddering grew faster and the thrusting harder. Finally,  Axl slammed into him, their skin melded together, hot, wet bursts shooting deep inside him as Axl collapsed on top of him, whispering in his ear in an otherworldly voice, "Slash, oh fuck, oh Slash, Slash..."

Hands, hair, mouths, lips, legs, skin, sweat...

Slash let his whole body fall back, Axl on top of him, and knew he never wanted to let this feeling go.

AN: Hope you liked this part! It's a new phase for the characters now, I'm not quite sure where they will go next... xxx

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."

MMMMM Such a well executed Sluff imagine

Wish you would write a fic where sluff has to share hotel rooms on tour & there's somehow always only one bed. It's winter & cold & duff is unashamedly a cuddler, slash always the little spoon, & omg is duff humping me rn?! (He gets pretty frisky in his sleep, as Slash comes to realize) Finally they get a room with two beds, but apparently duff doesn't notice because he crawls in with slash after his shower & snuggles up to him

I looove that, little spoon Slash is so cute and lmao of course Duff is a horny fucker even when he’s asleep 😄  Mildly smutty ahead:

Maybe Slash is one of those people who likes to be cuddly with his friends but he’s shy about initiating so he never really does it (at least not sober) and he ends up a bit touch-starved.

Duff on the other hand is all about physical contact, he’s very touchy-feely with his friends.  Slash loves it, Duff will casually throw an arm around his back and hold him close and Slash will just melt into his shoulder.  It’s just so nice to have someone he feels completely comfortable with, someone he can be close with without any expectations or ulterior motives.  

Slash is also starting to develop a little crush on Duff, but that’s neither here nor there, he’s perfectly capable of repressing those budding feelings and appreciating the platonic relationship they have.  

By the time the band goes on the road, Slash and Duff are close friends and it seems perfectly natural to share a room.  Even if there is only one bed.  

Duff is somehow even more cuddly in his sleep.  He clings to Slash like a lifeline but Slash doesn’t really mind, he really should have expected this anyway.  So he doesn’t say anything about it, even when he finds himself waking up with his ass pressed against Duff’s morning wood more often than not.

Duff really isn’t sure when he stopped thinking of Slash as just the perfect teddy bear/space heater and started having sex dreams about his bandmate.  But he isn’t too concerned about it – Slash is stupid hot, who wouldn’t want some of that?  He knows he’s not going to act on it (well, not unless Slash is interested...), so no big deal, right?

Apparently his subconscious didn’t get the memo.

He’s dead tired that night, the steamy shower made him warm and sleepy and he doesn’t even think to use the other bed, just slides in next to Slash with a contented hum.  Slash is surprised, but Duff looks so worn out, he’s already half asleep and Slash doesn’t have the heart to tell him he has to move.

Slash wakes up early the next morning when Duff rolls over a little so that instead of just spooning, Duff is half on top of him.  He can feel the heat of Duff’s crotch against his ass – even more so when he starts to slowly grind into him.  

Duff nuzzles into Slash’s neck, breathing in the scent of his shampoo, and sluggishly gropes at his chest and his dick as he starts to thrust more vigorously – Holy shit is he seriously dry humping me rn?

Slash can’t help himself, he bucks back into Duff.  They’re both wearing shorts but Slash squirms until Duff’s cock slots between his cheeks and he lets out a quiet moan.  Duff responds with a slurred, sleepy murmur that might have been Slash’s name.  

“Oh for fuck’s sake.   You’re not going to sleep through it the fist time I get you off!”

“..Huh...?”  Duff is now slightly awake, and confused and embarrassed.  It takes a second to register that Slash isn’t mad, that Slash has every intention of continuing what they started now that Duff is awake.  

Sunset Love ch. 3: Ain’t nobody here but us

"Slash, what's up, man?"

Duff had broken off mid-phrase, frowning. Izzy and Steven let the drums and guitar peter out. Slash lifted his head, cigarette smouldering among his curls.

"What?"

"You've been on another planet since we started. You OK?"

Slash took a deep drag, stalling.

"Sure," he said, extracting the cigarette from his mouth and blowing out a long trail of smoke at the ceiling. "Never better."

The others looked at him suspiciously. He'd been missing notes, coming in late, fluffing riffs. This was Slash, Mr Guitar God. No matter how much he'd drunk or smoked the night before, no matter how little sleep he'd got, when it came to guitar and the band, he always delivered the goods. Until today.

"Right. From the top," said Duff eventually. He locked eyes with Steven, counted them in and they were off again.

Slash berated himself as he tried to concentrate on his playing. Fuck, the guys were actually noticing. He had to get it together or they'd start coming to conclusions.

He'd stayed out as long as he could that morning, wandering penniless around Sunset and Hollywood as the sun came up, bumming cigarettes from other street rat acquaintances he bumped into. As the booze wore off, he couldn't stop thinking about what had happened with Axl, and his mood had plummeted.

What the fuck had he been thinking, letting that happen again? They had kissed before, when Axl lived in Slash's house, in his basement room. But they had agreed that time: they weren't fags. The band was all about maleness - straight maleness. Jokes and banter about fags and queers were part of their daily routine. Insinuating that one of the others was a homo was always met with instant aggression or a counter-accusation. Where did what had happened the night before fit into that?

Thank God for his hair, tumbled all over his face. It let him avoid meeting Axl's eye. Not that that seemed likely - the singer had his back to Slash all rehearsal. Slash wondered whether Axl even remembered. Maybe it had been all the Jack? Had Axl even been awake?

Anger seethed inside him. He had never agonised like this over a chick, even proper girlfriends.

He clenched his jaw as he played. A headache was banging in his forehead. Axl was in his line of sight now, doing that new snake dance thing he'd seen some other singer do. It looked ridiculous, Slash told himself. Turning his heels out and swaying his hips. It made his ass ripple under his jeans like a goddamn woman's. Slash realised his eyes were lingering on that ass. He closed his eyes and shook his head as if to shake out the thoughts.

He felt a physical sense of relief when Izzy finally called, "I gotta slip out. Slash, coming?"

Slash knew what that meant. Izzy had a number of contacts in the area who supplied him with chemical sustenance of various kinds. Lately it had been lumps of brown, sticky, sweet heroin, which Izzy showed him how to inject. Slash's energy lifted immediately at the prospect. He leaned his guitar against the wall and followed Izzy out the door, keeping his eyes down.

***

Sweet, delicious, soft, floating, spinning, bliss ...

Slash's eyes opened a little and he realised he'd nodded out, his head propped against the cinder block wall. He pulled open his eyelids a bit more. All five of them were here in the studio, sprawled around the floor in various states of highness. There were girls there too, and a few guys he half-recognised as members of the band who practised in the unit next door. One of them was lying on top of a girl, humping her, her feet clenched against his white ass as it pumped. The door was open and Slash heard the sounds of more partying coming from the lot outside.

He jerked awake again. More hours must have passed. He could just about make out a weak light through the gap in the door, casting everything in the studio shades of grey. People were starting to stagger to their feet, stumbling out the door in ones and twos, calling goodbye.

"Duff took his coat back, the bastard." The voice was smooth, low, restrained.

Slash tried to think of a reply but his brain was too wasted. Axl was kicking aside empty beer cans and bottles, clearing space on the floor. Through the slits between his eyelids, Slash watched as Axl pulled something out of a grocery bag and shrugged it on. It was the fake-snakeskin jacket some girl had given him. It came from the thrift store and looked it. Axl loved it.

"We really gotta get some bedding, man," Axl muttered as he lowered himself against the wall beside Slash and started to lie down.

Before he knew it, Slash moved away instinctively. Axl looked at him, surprised.

Slash summoned up the balls to return the look, meeting his eyes.

"What?" asked Axl, propped on an elbow.

Slash cursed himself internally. He really was shit with words. How could he express the fucked-up turmoil of thoughts in his head?

"What the fuck was that the other night?" he finally managed.

Axl's brow furrowed. Was he really going to say he didn't remember? Yet more rage added to the cauldron already boiling in Slash's head.

"You fucking kissed me, man," Slash blurted, his emotion overtaking his awkwardness.

Axl was still staring at him.

"Not just like - y'know - a joke - it ..." He could only finish the sentence in his mind: it felt like you meant it.

Axl pushed himself back up to sitting and leaned his head back against the wall. Dawn light filtering through the door highlighted his profile. That cute nose. Those perfect lips.

"Did you kiss me back?" said Axl, eyes at the ceiling.

Now it was Slash's turn to stare.

"You serious? That's what you say?"

Axl turned his head. Slash looked at his face, inches away from his own. The shadows beneath the cheekbones. The tiny one just below the bottom lip. The eyes, their green turned grey in the dim light, deep and beautiful. Slash was suddenly very conscious of his mouth. His lips tingled. He felt them moving towards the other man's. He felt Axl's hand on his jaw. It was happening.

The last time had been slow, incredulous. This time their desire was clear. Their lips and teeth clashed urgently, tongues exploring the insides of each other's mouths as they gripped the back of each other's skulls. Slash's head was swimming but not like from dope; no, these were  different chemicals, ones that came from deep within his body, not outside, creating reactions that exploded in his groin and made him groan deep inside his throat.

Axl smiled, breaking the kiss, leaning his forehead against Slash's, still gripping the back of his head.

"I guess you kissed me back this time," grinned Axl.

Slash looked down but couldn't help smiling too, moving his fingers in the smooth silkiness of the other man's hair, the solidity of his skull.

"I don't know what's happening, man," he said, realising he was whispering. "We agreed..."

"Hey," said Axl, tilting up Slash's jaw with his fingers, making him meet his eye. Oh, that voice, that deep, sexy rumble.

"We can... un-agree," Axl went on quietly, one corner of his mouth tilting up.

"But..." said Slash, unable to stop his hands from moving to Axl's ribcage, bare under his jacket. The skin was warm, baby soft.

"We don't have to analyse it," said Axl, stroking the tip of his nose against Slash's. Slash could feel Axl's lips moving glancingly against his own as he spoke. "It's OK."

"I'm not... you're not..."

"Slash." The sound was so soft coming from Axl's mouth, the "shhh" at the end lingering unbelievable sexily. It made Slash's cock, already straining against the restraint of his jeans, twitch and pulsate.

Axl pushed himself to standing and strode to the door. The light in the room disappeared as it closed. Slash heard boots on the floor, then felt Axl's body against his again.

"Ain't nobody here but us," he whispered into Slash's mouth.

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 :')

My Rock Realizations #1

Are You Gonna Go My Way is an anti-war song.

The Stars Are a Part Of Us: The Brains Of This Outfit

This my “Almost Famous” inspired groupie fic, with appearances by @awrestlinggirlwholoves80sbands (Celestia/Alessia), @sexcoffeeandrockandroll (Absinthe/Amy) and @no-stone-no-bone (Velvet), plus yours truly as Karen.  This is a pretty dark fic, with VERY mature themes and smut.  Cross-posted on AO3

Tag list @izzysdenimjacket ​ @no-stone-no-bone ​ @sexcoffeeandrockandroll @awrestlinggirlwholoves80sbands ​ @smokeandmirrorz ​ @sodalitefully ​ @roger-taylors-car ​ @lost-in-the-80s @whisperess33 ​ @shawolat​ ​@80snikki @rumoured-whispers

Warnings: Underage sex, drug use, drinking, implied violence.  18+ ONLY

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