So, Ya Like Coffee? (Slaxl Fanfic)

Mars

Axl's POV

The flames spread. The smoke thickened. My eyes watered. There was no escape.

I struggled against the ropes restraining my wrists, but with every pull and every tug, the material dug into my skin, rubbing it raw.

"FUCKKKK!" A deep, throaty scream emitted from the very depths of me. Tears rolled down my cheeks and on my beat up hands. I had failed. I had failed everyone.

Vince burned the place with me in it as if taunting me to stay alive. Not for Slash or for the pure human want to keep living... but because if I died, I couldn't get him the money. If I died, he would take everyone close to me along for the ride.

"G-GODDAMMIT!!" I howled, clenching my teeth.

I failed, I failed, I failed.

The flames had reached high above me, hissing and popping as orange and yellow spread to the second floor. The smoke became thick as the place I once called my home burned around me.

I can't breath, I can't breath, I can't breath!

Snot was running down my nose, dripping down my chin and mingled with salty tears. This was it.

I'm going to die, I'm going to die, I'm going to-

Before I blacked out from the lack of oxygen, a hand with a knife reached out of the darkness.

-

Slash's POV

"Home, sweet, home!!" I yelled into my empty apartment (except for the few critters I had). I hung my house key up, slipped off my shoes, then walked a few steps into my living room and collapsed on the cozy sofa.

My mind was jumbled full of shit, nonstop running like a film. Thoughts of Axl, thoughts about the movie we watched, thoughts about snakes, thoughts about Axl's dick, thoughts about Taco Bell.

I sighed, reaching up and running my fingers through my curls, knotted from sticking my head out the window of Axl's car like a dog. I smiled.

My eyelids dropped and I blinked myself awake multiple times, until i realized i didn't need to stay awake for anything. Droop, droop, droop, until my eyes were closed and my breathing slowed to a soft snore.

-

Bzzz bzzz bzzz.

Bees?

Bzzz bzzz bzzz.

No, not bees, it's vibrations near my butt.

Bzzz bzzz bzzz.

MY PHONE!!!

I awoke in a flurry of limbs, sitting straight up and reaching into my back pocket to grab my buzzing phone.

"Nikki?" I questioned out loud, smoothing down my hair and pressing the green 'answer' on the touch screen.

"NikNak, you woke me-" I began until I was interrupted.

"My apartment NOW!" He howled through my phone, then hung up.

It was so late at night, what could he possibly need? I asked myself and shook my head. Whatever it is, it has to be important.

So I lept off my couch, pulled a snug sweatshirt on, snatched my keys, and went on with my mission.

-

Mick Mars POV

I used to be one bad sonofabitch back in my day.

I did my fair share of drugs, fair share of sex, fair share of stealing, and a fair share of fucking up my life like everyone else.

Although all of that is behind me, never had I ever forgotten the name 'Axl Rose.'

I had never met him until the day he showed up at the shop, practically begging with his eyes for a second chance.

I knew his story. Not because of Slash or Nikki or anyone, but because of Vince.

Ah, yeah. I knew Vince. Back when that fucker was a pewny dick. Back when he was just starting off in the drug business. Did I buy drugs from him? No. Quite the opposite, in fact.

I was is mentor.

But Mick, if you were Vince's mentor, doesn't that mean all of the shit he's done is pretty much your fault?

Oh, go fuck yourself, yellow bellied bastard. Of course it's all my fault. You think I haven't heard that enough? From myself, from Vince.

That's all he would say to justify his actions.

'You made me this way. You made me do it. You taught me.' That's all Vince would say. All the time. When he gave someone too illegal or drugs, when he caused someone's amazing life to go downhill, when he killed. That little fucker.

He knows how to get his way.

Once I realized how powerful Vince was becoming, I hid. I changed my life and never went back.

But Mick, why didn't you turn him in? HAH! And get my ass ratted out? Hell no. Can't do that. Vince is a rat. A slimy, lying, manipulative rat. That's why he's never been caught. Not because he's a sneaky bastard, but because people are too scared.

A former kid in my drug circle, Sebastian Bach, I believe, notified me that Vince was going to jump Axl at his house.

Thank Satan himself I got there when I did.

When I got there, the poor kid was passed out on the floor, tied like a woman in a bondage video I wanked off to a couple nights ago (I don't get much action from the ladies now that I'm older).

Vince was no where in sight.

The burning smell of wood and wires, old records and clothing, all ran up my nose like toxic fumes. I held my breath, grabbed a pocket knife I always carried around from my back pocket, and cut that sucker free.

I hurried as fast as I could because sirens wailed in the background as the flames began to kick up. I didn't want the officers to question what the fuck I was doing leaping out of a building with a man in my arms, completely out of it.

Still unconscious, I grabbed the kid in my arms bridal style and kicked out a piece of old wood that was used to block up the places windows. I leapt out, shoved the boy in my pickup truck, and off I went to Nikki's, the only safe place I knew around.

~

A/N

Mick Mars is my lord and savior.

The story is coming to an end.

Have Jesus Christ ⬇️

- MUNKYYY