Book Two : Aveline. | Slash Fanfiction

chapter sixteen

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SIXTEEN - 1992, Southampton.

          IT WAS LESS of a harmless party, with a few beers and quiet music that only held four to five occupants, and more of a mass mob, countless intoxicated bodies swarming the street as tables were carried out from houses and booze were purchased by total strangers, all adding to the insanity of the whole ordeal.

Then again, a small, reserved party wasn't in any member of the Guns' vocabulary.

"Go big or go home, right?" Duff had said to Izzy as he returned to the bus, only to be welcomed by drugged up, drunken English fuckers that really tended to crowd his personal space.

And of course, Izzy being Izzy, he had responded with an eye roll and a simple, "I wish I could go home." Before he bent down and used a rolled up dollar to snort three lines, the cream settling in the back of his throat a reminder that he needed to let lose a little. And then Duff handed him a large bottle of red wine, demanding he chug the entirety before he was allowed to leave.

Safe to say, Izzy joined the party pretty damned quickly.

Slash had his lips hooked on a girl with round brown eyes and pure blonde hair, something he found himself enjoying running his hands through as they continuously and tirelessly played a match of tongue hockey. Though his movements were sloppy and slurred by the heroin in his blood and the empty bottle of Jack Daniels rolling about his feet, it seemed the blonde enjoyed his sexual company enough to remove her shirt and stand free in the middle of the street.

She had him pinned against the wall of the bus, her red lipstick staining his neck and his chest as it smeared along his upper lip and to the left of his cheek, his hair no longer tied back courteously. She tugged on it aggressively - an action he found himself not so fond of, reaching up to remove her tough grip upon his curls.

As per usual, Slash was shamelessly shirtless, his torso on full display as an array of fresh hickeys sprawled along the complexion as it stretched upon his panting chest and rising collar bones, one in particular standing out far darker upon his neck. Slash wasn't exactly a fan of hickeys from girls he didn't know, but he was enjoying the action thus far, and made no attempt t stop her as her hands trailed down to the fly of his jeans, tugging down the zipper and withdrawing her face from their smothering session.

She held a dirty smirk upon her lips, crouching down to her knees as Slash rested his head back against the bus wall, mouth agape and eyes closed in pure blissful pleasure, her head bobbing back and forth as the crowd went about their night, high off cocaine and dope and free booze.

Aveline wove in and out of the bodies, dragging along a man she didn't know the name of, but liked the look of. He looked slightly delicious - someone she could really envision herself kissing unabashedly - and his roaming hands weren't too daring or too forceful, just enough of a push to get her in the right mood. It was well past three am, and Avline found herself dangerously drunk and extraordinarily high.

This man - the one gripping her hand and nibbling on her neck as he lead her away from the party - had already handed over four different kinds of drowsing drugs to Aveline, the kind that really chilled someone out until they were practically unable to speak or make any form of self-inflicted movement. She had also snorted a line and a half, unable to finish the second due to a frustrating and deterring nosebleed, and she had consumed an entire bottle of vodka, something that left her throat dry and croaky.

Izzy noticed the maneuvering of the brightly-colored hair from the distance of the tour bus, the notion ringing alarms in his drugged up ears. He cursed beneath his breath, a bad feeling beginning to brew in his gut, and glanced around in attempt to find a familiar face.