Book Two : Aveline. | Slash Fanfiction

chapter sixteen

Hurriedly, he made his way down the steps, jogging unusually, and tumbled to where Saul stood, his dick in some blonde chick's mouth. Izzy winced and looked away, calling his name and tapping his cheek lightly, "Slash," he called, "Slash, man, some dude's takin' Aveline."

He took a moment to digest the sentence, though it went in one ear and out the other, a groan of pleasure escaping his mouth before his words had the chance. "Oh-What?"

"Aveline," Slash sobered up slightly at the alarmed mention of her name, causing his eyebrows to draw together, thick with concern for his dearest friend and companion. "I saw her taking off with some guy. She looks totally fucked up, man."

Cursing, the curly haired guitarist pushed away the blonde with slight remorse, smiling apologetically in her direction, before attempting to tame his boner, folding it into his jeans and zipping himself back up. The only issue was - not only did he not have any underwear on - but it was almost impossible to run - or even walk - with a hard-on.

"Which way?" He was unbelievably wasted, too.

"That way." Izzy pointed to the direction and Slash began to hobble as quick as he possibly could, pain sprouting through one of his most prized possessions, a large and extremely noticeable limp shadowing every step he graced.

Advancing into the darker part of the street, Slash heard the beckon of shuffling and a few mumbles of slurred protest, the noises drawing his limps toward their source. The sight before him sent him into a frustrated sigh, catching the attention of a slightly out of breath, intoxicated, British man. Slash raised a challenging eyebrow, checking behind where he pinned another figure down to see who it was. He hoped it wasn't Aveline - Slash didn't really feel like fighting this guy.

However it seemed luck was not on his side, the frightened stare of her piercing orbs staring directly through his angered gaze. Slash found himself approaching the scene with slow steps, an attempt of not only menacing threat but also to keep his balance.

"What're you doin', there, tough guy?" He questioned, putting on his coldest accent.

"Fuck off, Afro. This doesn't concern you." He scoffed, gradually standing. Aveline scampered backward - or attempted to, at least, slightly unsure of where she was with creatures surrounding the breathing walls.

Slash smiled toothily and nodded insincerely, "I guess you're right, man." He admitted, "My bad. I'll just let you carry on doing your thing, okay?"

"Thank you." The man spat, turning around and latching back onto Aveline as she made no attempt to fight back, her muscles weak and jelly-fied. Only, Slash was slowly firing himself up more and more, drifting into his classical fighting mood.

Slash had always loved to tackle the largest man in the bar - and if this was as close as he'd get, then he'd make it worth the while.

He lunged toward him, clashing his fist with the back of his head, a loud pain shooting through his wrist and knuckles as he hissed and cursed exaggeratedly; "Fuck!" He bellowed out, holding his joint and massaging the pain away. The stranger, now successfully slumbering and lying flat upon Aveline, sent a sneer to Slashes lips as he built up a wad of phlegm, spitting the mucus on the side of his face before latching onto the back of his shirt, tugging him roughly from Aveline's body.

"How you doin' Leanie?" He smiled sheepishly, tossing the heavy man from his grip, the loud clap of his body against the ground only widening his smile. "You ready to crash this party and catch some sleep?"

But Aveline was too out of it to speak, staring with wide eyes into his as the grin on his lips faltered slightly. She couldn't feel the weight of her head, but it was far too stiff to move, locked in position as dots of color invaded her line of vision.