First Night

1K 37 11
                                                  

It was just a shitty little garage. That's all. We used it as a rehearsal space. And a living space, a hangout space, a storage space... Well, you get the idea. Sometimes the other guys crashed here, sometimes they didn't. Axl and I lived here full-time. That's all. Nothing special.

It started out as nothing. Just innocent. It was raining, and the roof was like Swiss cheese. Water dripped in from the ugly cracks in the ceiling. Axl and I were the only ones here, and we went to bed a little early tonight. And by "early tonight" I mean before 5 am. We were just laying in the pitch-dark up on the lumpy mattress in the loft the other guys had built for us when the rain started hitting the roof. Raindrops started to drip into my hair. Damn. This place really was a shithole.

"Hey, Slash?" I heard Axl's beaten, scratchy voice in the dark; he had a cold. Which means I was probably going to catch it too, seeing how close we were.

"Yeah?"

"Can I move over to your side? The fucking rain is dripping on me."

"Yeah, sure, I guess. Take your half of the blanket with you so it doesn't get wet. We don't have a dryer."

He grabbed his half of the blanket and sheet and scooted over to me. Now it was cramped. Eh. I missed my space already. Fuck you too, Mother Nature. Our arms were touching; we were both laying on our sides. I could feel the heat of his body hitting mine in waves. I felt bad for him; he probably felt like shit. I wanted to help him feel better...

"I think you've got a fever, man." I said, reaching my hand out feeling his warm forehead in the dark. Somehow I knew exactly where he was, even though I couldn't see him. All of a sudden, my heart started pounding. Like, out of nowhere! What the fuck was this all about? Just from touching him? The weirdest thing of all was that he didn't shy away from my touch.

"Ha. Guess that explains why I feel like fucking shit." He laughed softly in the dark. The rain continued to pound on the roof. It was like a thousand ping-pong balls hitting the roof and rolling off He coughed. Ugh. That sounded horrible. He pulled his half of the sheet in closer around him; I could hear the rustling of the musty fabric in the pitch blackness. I knew what that meant.

"You cold?" I asked him, yawning a little.

"Ah-yeah." said Axl, sniffling. "It's really cold in here." This was half true: it was a little cool in here, but not cold. I was pretty comfortable; or, as comfortable as it gets when you're stuck in a shithole like this. Now I did feel genuinely bad for the guy. Even though he pissed me off sometimes.

"Well, come here, I'm warm." I wrapped my arms around him, one around his waist and the other around his shoulders. When I'd said it, I'd thought nothing of it. Once I pulled his body in a little closer to me, my thoughts changed. He was so warm and soft, and his skin was like milk under my hands. Wow... that was not what I was expecting at all. He smelled good; I'm not sure what it was, but I liked it. Maybe it was his shampoo or something. I held my breath, realizing exactly what I'd just done. Axl does not like to be touched like this by a guy...he's gonna think this is weird...he's gonna hit me and call me a freak, or worse... oh fuck!

He didn't hit me. He didn't pull away. He didn't call me a freak. He didn't even move! My heart was going to burst in my fucking chest! Damn, Slash, what were you thinking...? But what happened next shocked me even more.

He sighed and settled into the touch. Like, I could literally feel every muscle in his body relax under my fingertips. Holy. Shit. Wow...that fever must be frying his brain for him to actually like me holding him close like this...And why was I even doing this in the first place?

"You are warm..." Axl sighed contentedly. He coughed again, trying not to do it on me. I did silently thank him for that. Being sick was a pet peeve of mine. "Sorry..."

"No, it's ok. You're sick. You can't help it." I said, yawning again. He laughed again. I was starting to like that sound. And... he felt good in my arms. I couldn't even explain it. It just...felt good.

Silence fell, except for the rain. He was so close to me. I could hear his congested, but still soft, breathing and feel his shoulders rise and fall gently with it. The ends of his hair were really silky and soft too. I could picture him in the dark; I didn't need to see him. His slender neck, the slope of his shoulders that spilled into his curvy back and narrow hips... Wow, it was getting fucking warm in here...

He was asleep long before I was. I just laid awake on my side, lazily stroking down his back and up again, sometimes migrating into his long hair. I liked his hair; it was bright and real. His breathing was soft and really relaxing, even though it sounded a little ragged from his cold. His fever made him feel like a human furnace, but I liked the extra warmth. I would never tell him any of this though. Oh no. Not me.

I'm enjoying this. More than I should be. So much so that him sleeping is making me fall asleep. Ha. Go figure. I guess I'd be ok with it raining more often if it meant we could do this.

I sighed and rested my forehead on the top of his head. That's the last thing I remember.

5 Nights at Our PlaceWhere stories live. Discover now