Latest Posts by ifyouvegotthemoneyhoney - Page 2

Because Slash.

Slash Lockscreens 🥀

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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.

Too adorable

I like the idea that slash (whether he means to or not) covers a good portion of his face with his curly hair whenever he feels self conscious or unsure of himself, it almost seems like he wants his hair to swallow his face somedays. Axl will crawl into his lap when theyre alone and just gently push his hair away from slashs dark expressive eyes and just quietly tell him how handsome and lovely and beautiful he is and axl wouldnt wanna be anywhere else in the world besides with slash :p

I just died this is so adorable :’)

(i don’t know if you were talking in the magic au or not)

Axl is tired. It’s been a long fucking day, and finally, he gets the house to himself. It’s weird to be alone with Duff and Steven practically living in the house which he, Slash, and Izzy have shared for a while now. It’s nice though, he never got to have that as a kid. It’s like a real family now. 

He flops down on the couch, and flicks on the TV, searching for a minute before settling on some random show that caught his eye. It doesn’t hold his attention for long, and he finds himself walking back to his room. Maybe he’ll just crash for a minute.

The door to his room is cracked open and he pokes it open all the way, expecting to find his and Slash’s room empty. Except, it isn’t. Slash is sitting at the head of the bed, with his legs folded neatly beneath him. His hair falls over most of his face, all Axl can see is a sliver of one eye.

“Slash? Didn’t think anybody was home yet,” Axl says.  Slash shifts a bit, but doesn’t answer. It happens like this sometimes. Slash can look big and bad strutting around in a leather jacket and his hat that makes people let him pass on the sidewalk, but he isn’t always like that. Because beneath all that there’s still a person. Sometimes he shuts down, just stops. 

“Babe?” Axl tries again, making his way over to the bed and sitting on the corner. He still gets no answer. Axl crawls across the expanse of sheets till he settles near Slash. He hesitates for a moment before he crawls onto Slash’s lap. 

Hooking his finger under Slash’s chin he pulls his gaze up to meet his, “Hey there.” There’s no one else home, so Axl presses a kiss to his forehead. He gently moves the curtain of hair off of Slash’s face, tucking it behind his ears. He kisses his nose this time, brushing lower till their mouths slot together. Slash moves slowly winding his arms around Axl, slung low on his waist, just holding him closer. Axl’s lips move over his cheeks, leaving a trail of kisses in their wake.

“You’re so fucking pretty, y’know?” Axl whispers winding a dark curl around his finger and marveling at the way it bounces back into place when he lets it go. “I mean, you really are.” 

Slash buries his face in the crook of Axl’s neck, and his breath tickles against Axl’s skin, “Don’t hide from me.” 

Slash pulls his head back and screws up his nose just a bit before speaking, “That was really cheesy.”

“Oh, shut up!” Axl laughs as he pushes Slash’s hair back again, “There we go, I knew I lost my boyfriend somewhere in this jungle.” Slash laughs, and kisses Axl again. 

Sunset Love ch. 1: Roomies

"Fuck! This stuff weighs a fucking ton," grunted Duff, shoving the bass drum into place at the back of the room. Steven twisted the screws on the hi-hat and gave it a little roll with his fingers. A pleased grin crossed his face.

"That's me all set up," he said, throwing himself onto his stool and spinning his sticks in the air. Izzy scowled as he bent to plug in his Marshall amp.

"At least this place has fucking electricity," he grumbled. He threw his guitar strap over his head and banged out a few chords. He grimaced and crouched down at the amp. "Yeah, the sound in here blows."

Duff was picking out rumbling notes on his bass, his head to one side. "Hey, this place is costing us four Benjamins a month," he replied. "Let's appreciate it, yeah?" He looked across the room as someone came in. "Speaking of which, you gonna get me your share of that, Axl, yeah?"

Axl had his head down, hands in pockets, sheets of red hair shielding his face as he kicked a lump of concrete on the floor.

"Yeah, sure, man," he replied absent-mindedly after a moment. He looked up, sweeping his hair back out of his eyes. He surveyed the room and pursed his lips. "It sure ain't the Sunset Hyatt," he said moodily.

Duff rolled his eyes and stretched out his arms. "What's with you guys, pissin' and fussin'?" he demanded. "We had to twist the guy's arm to even let us have it. Quit bitchin' and let's do what we're here to do."

The others mumbled assent and continued setting up. Electric twangs, beats and thumps filled the space, disappearing into the bare-brick walls.

"Where's Slash?" asked someone.

"He's here," said Slash, who had just dashed in the metal door. He stomped across to the other side of the room from Izzy and set down his guitar case and amp. "What'd I miss?"

He looked around at the other four. "Hey, Axl, you still got no PA?"

Axl was mooching in a corner, hands still in his pockets, whistling scraps of tunes. "Fuck you," he shot back, "You know I don't."

"Right, so, how we gonna hear you?"

"Guess you'll have to stand right up next to me if you wanna hear me," said Axl in his smooth, deep voice, tilting his chin at Slash. The others watched warily. Axl may have been small and skinny, but they knew his temper, and his fists.

Slash said nothing. Guitar on, he strummed out the opening chords of the new song they were working on. Like the others, he grimaced at the awful acoustics in the room, then grinned.

He was playing it cool, as always, but Slash was psyched that they finally had a place of their own to rehearse, day and night, whenever they wanted. This was going to take the band to the next level, he thought. The level where they could get a whole set down and really start pushing to play the clubs on Sunset, and beyond. He already had an idea in his head for their band logo. Two guns, their handles intertwined with two thorny roses.

"We ready?" came Axl's voice, cutting through his thoughts. Duff gave the nod to Steven, who clapped his sticks together, and they were off.

***

They played until they were too hungry and tired to go on.

"I'm outta here," called Duff, swinging off his guitar. "I promised Mandy I'd take her to the Rainbow tonight. Who's coming?"

Steven was already up from his drum kit and at Duff's side. Izzy mumbled about having to go see someone and was gone. Duff looked from Axl to Slash, then laughed.

"Right. You guys live here." He was grinning madly. "So this is like, your first night in your new home? Like a house-warming?"

"Fuck off," muttered Slash through a cloud of smoke and turned towards his amp. Axl said nothing, just lit his own cigarette and blew out a long lungful, staring at the wall. For a moment Duff thought he caught something of what Axl was thinking. Duff knew he sometimes slept rough around West Hollywood: stairwells, doorways. This place was a roof over his head.

"Just fuckin' with ya," said Duff easily. "See you guys tomorrow sometime."

He and Steven stepped out into the alley and left into Gardner Street, the thrill of their new rehearsal space putting a spring in their step as they headed towards Sunset Boulevard.

There was silence in the room for a while as Slash and Axl smoked, perching on amps, looking around at the place that was newly theirs: four bare cinder block walls and a sheet metal roof. It was storage space, advertised as such; they hadn't exactly made it clear to the owner that they were a rock band intending to rehearse. The guy had made a big deal out of the fact that there were electricity sockets and a shared toilet in the lot.

The floor was bare concrete. The drum kit and guitars looked odd, standing around unused. It was 10 P.M. on an August evening, the sun had gone down and the day's heat was seeping out of the walls. The reality of their situation was beginning to dawn.

"Guess we shoulda got ... mattresses or something," said Axl, looking around.

Slash chuckled, nodding. "Yeahhh," he drawled. He reached over to a paper bag by the wall and pulled out a familiar brown bottle.

"'Least we got our friend Jack to keep us company."

Axl looked up at Slash and smiled slowly.

Slash busied himself popping the lid, taking a swig and handing it over. He felt suddenly weird - was he embarrassed, shy? It was true that he and Axl hadn't spent a lot of time together since Axl moved out of Slash's mom's house a while back. But that smile of Axl's - it looked like it had been more than just a casual facial expression. Or was he imagining things?

Slash knocked back more of the Jack, passing it back and forth to Axl. It did its magic, as usual - with every swig, the awkwardness he felt faded. He knew that many people drank to feel different, to feel less like themselves. He did it to feel less awkward, more sociable - more like himself.

Fortunately, Axl was a good talker. It never took much to set him off on one of his long, rambling musings about life, music, art, whatever he was digging at the moment. Slash provided nods and comments here and there as that voice filled the small space.

What a voice, he thought. Many singers he knew had speaking voices that didn't resemble their singing at all. Axl was different. When he spoke, the tones were just as smooth and deep as when he sang. Thoughts of thick caramel and warm, melting chocolate came into Slash's mind. He found himself trying not to stare too long at Axl's face, especially his lips as they moved. He noted their feminine curves and their natural pout.

Suddenly Slash realised what he was thinking and was annoyed with himself. What was he, a fucking fag? He took another gulp. It must be the whisky. He shivered.

"Yeah, it's getting fucking cold, man," said Axl. He cast around the room and squinted into a corner where Duff had propped his bass. "Hey - what we got here," said Axl, jumping to his feet and picking something up from the floor. He held it up. It was Duff's voluminous red and black leather trench coat. He had brought it from Seattle and thought it was the coolest thing ever.

Axl spread the coat down on the floor by the wall and lay down. He closed his eyes and appeared to be going to sleep.

Slash seized up with awkwardness again. He drained the last drop from the bottle.

"Sure as hell beats the fucking Tower Video stairwell," said Axl with closed eyes.

Slash said nothing.

"You going to sleep or what?" said Axl.

Slash got up and flicked off the light. He moved warily in the dark towards where Axl lay. He crouched down and clumsily stretched himself out on the leather coat, leaving as much space as possible between himself and Axl.

"Night, fucker," came Axl's voice, sounding half-asleep already.

"Fuck you," fired back Slash, turning onto his side, away from the other man.

It might have been better than a stairwell but it was still fucking uncomfortable. Slash dozed fitfully, turning to one side then the other against the concrete, his drunken mind filled with disturbing half-dreams. At one point, God knows what time, he jerked awake as he felt something heavy on his chest. He gradually realised it was Axl's arm.

The other man appeared to be sleeping deeply, his steady breathing coming through his nose.

Slash froze. He clenched his teeth in anger. We fucking agreed this wouldn't happen again, he thought.