So, Ya Like Coffee? (Slaxl Fanfic)

City

Slash's POV

We drove in silence. It wasn't a bad silence. I don't think any of us could figure out what to say. The only thing I wanted to ask was 'Are you okay?' but I had already said that a billion times and it was the same answer... 'yeah'. He wasn't.

"Slash?" Axl whispered, pulling his skinny legs closer to his chest, not moving his gaze from the road ahead of us. "I want to do something."

"It's kinda late to do something." I laugh, glancing at the clock reading 9."Plus, doesn't your body hurt? I need to clean you up." He shook his head.

"I want to do something. I want to do something stupid to distract myself... from him." He sneered the last part, lights from passing cars and buildings danced on his face, blending in the scars and bruises into pretty patterns. "Stop here."

I raised an eyebrow.

"Axl, we're in the middle of the city-" I began to start but he cut me off as he started opening the door. I sighed, pulling over and to the front of a beaten up little Teriyaki shop, the open sign blinked and flickered. 

He hopped out once the car came to a stop, burying his cut up hands into the pockets of his leather jacket.

"What are we gonna do?" I asked, throwing on a light grey sweater and shivering in the cold. The wind winded down alley ways as sirens wailed and cars screeched. "Please don't tell me you're in a secret cult or something that meets in alley ways and kills people."

Axl snorted, rolling his eyes and grabbing my hand. 

"Shut up and follow me." He hissed, looking both ways before crossing the street, black boots clomping on the asphalt of the pavement, dragging me behind him. He looked around, amber hair swirling like fire in the wind, then walked briskly into an alleyway. 

My heart sped up as we neared a pot shop. I sighed in relief as we passed it, taking a left near an old factory of some sort made of brick and broken glass. The older man grabbed ahold of a rusty ladder railing and yanked himself up, hopping through one of the broken windows.

"Axl? Axl, what the fu-" I yelped in shock as a pair of hands grabbed me and yanked me up. I landed clumsily on the dirty hardwood floor. "What the hell?!"

My jaw dropped as I looked around.

"Welcome to my real crib." Axl grinned, smirking a cocky smile as he motioned around him. "This is where I really live, I just use the apartment to distract Vince so he doesn't find out about this place. I'm safe here."

The big room was lit up with neon signs, one reading 'live nudes' the other flashing 'harley davidson'. There was a large shelf full of records and CDs, cassettes and a single radio along with a record player. There was a large, leather sofa in the far left corner, a small box TV sat next to it. 

"Holy shit." I breathed, staring awestruck at all the new wonders. "W-What? How?"

"Come sit with me, Slasher." Axl motioned me to follow him upstairs and I did so, wiping dust off my jeans as I got up off the floor. We walked up a huge flight of stairs that looked like they were on the edge of breaking. We then walked up to the roof.

There was another smaller sofa on the flat concrete roof overlooking the city. Axl plopped down onto the plush, grinning at my still stunned face. I hesitantly walked over and sat down next to him, staring at the city lights twinkling in the night.

"You have a lot of questions." Axl murmured, closing his eyes and letting the cool wind run its gentle fingers through his hair. He said it as a statement, not a question. I nodded.

"Wha-How? How l-long have you lived here?" I stuttered, trying to calm my racing mind. We didn't look at each other, just watched the neon lights shimmer around us. 

"About 3 years." He muttered, eyes still closed and cheeks flushed at the cool breeze. "Ever since Vince and me got together. He always abused me and I need a place to get away. This shitty place was abandoned, not too far away from my cheap apartment. I hid here all the time and practically live here. I'm not even paying for the apartment, Nikki is, God bless him."

"So... You're homeless?" I look at him, studying his features. The first time I met him, he seemed so... rich? Not rich, wealthy, happy, like there wasn't a care in the world. I never ever expected him to live in an abandoned building to hide from his abusive ex.

"Yeah... Yeah, I guess." Axl scratched the back of his neck and scrunching his nose. "I never thought about it that way, I guess."

"Do you have a job? How do you survive?" I dug deeper, trying to answer the burning questions in my jacked up mind.

"Uh, I steal stuff." Axl scratched his neck again, probably a nervous tick of his. "And... Other stuff. Small jobs."

"Like...?"

"Selling drugs." He said bluntly, huffing a little and gazing at his breath in the chilled night air. "That's why I owed Vince money. Stoll some of his shit to sell and he got pissed."

"Is that all you do? Sell drugs?"

"I do other... Stuff."

"Stuff?"

"Sex."

"Oh."

"Yeah."

"You're a prostitute."

"I guess."

I looked over at him to see his eyes glossed over and glazed with tears hanging onto the brim of his eyes.

"Slash?"

"Yeah?"

"I fucking hate my life." He croaked, taking a cigar out of his pocket and lighting it with a cheap green lighter. Axl took a long drag, calming his nerves and taking a deep breath, shifting his weight on the couch.

"Don't say that." I sigh, scooting closer to him and laying my head on his lap, breathing in the left over smoke he exhaled.

"But I do." He growled, taking another drag, this time more violently. "My family fucking hates me, I owe a guy two thousand dollars and he beats me to a fucking pulp everytime I see him, I'm homeless and have to have guilty sex whenever I want money for food, I don't even have a fucking house!"

I closed my eyes, hearing him pour the emotion out of his mouth like honey dripping from a spoon, warm coffee pooling out into a porcelain cup. And I let him.

"I could jump, yenno." He sniffs, wiping his nose with the sleeve of leather, placing his other hand on my head, playing with my thick curls. "'Could jump off this building an' no one would care. But I don't. Because of you."

I turn so I'm on my back, looking up at him, gazing into his eyes. 

"Because of you, I'm not fucking roadkill." Axl chuckles, leaning downward to me, brushing our noses and resting a hand on my face, stroking my cheek. "It's all because of you, ya little fucker."

He kisses me, this time roughly. It wasn't soft. I liked it. I kissed back, harder, grabbing his hair and pulling him closer until he's straddling me and we're making out on a couch in the middle of a city on a roof.

So fucking unreal.

~

A/N

That was really fun to write. I'm proud at how aesthetic this book is and the pictures heheHEHEHE.

I'm thinking of smut next chapter? Want some descriptive blowjobs on a roof? Yeah you do, fucker.

I taught my 2 year old cousin to say Motley Crue and he pronounces it "Mommy Coo" and it's adorable. He also loves saying Nikki Sixx and he says it pretty well. He also loves to dance to David Bowie. I'm teaching him damn well.

~Munky