Buttered Popcorn

Chapter 23: June 23, 1987

"I cant find my hairspray!" Axl called from the bathroom, assumed to be waiting for some sort of fairy godmother to appear and style his hair for him. Jimmie- who was sat on the counter in the kitchen sipping on a plastic cup filled of whiskey (courtesy of Slash's tasteful recommendation of a tall solo cup of ice that is 3/4ths filled with straight liquor)- was listening to a soft, spinning Neil Young vinyl that Izzy had bought for her yesterday. He had, after all, insisted that he'd get new records for her after the last ones were stolen.

Eyes fluttered shut, the ice rested against her lips as she slowly sipped from the beverage, savoring the chill that the whiskey sent through the pit of her stomach as she swallowed. The boys continued to clamor about the apartment, gathering whatever things they needed for a night out. Steven stumbled into the kitchen just as she went to take another sip.

"Hey, babe. You goin' out with us in a bit? Slash won't shut up about getting you to try his new favorite drink down at the Roxy." His elbow rested on the doorframe with a thin tank top hanging from his broad frame.

She listening a moment to the record's final song before it needed to be flipped to the other side. "Not tonight, I think I just want to stay in and hang out." Steven's eyes held a noticeable disappointment and borderline teasing gaze as he walked over to place himself between her legs. "You sure? I'll miss you, especially watching you dance," he moved closer, shifting her hips to be firm against his own and leaned closer to he left ear, "Moving your hips, looking at me with that dangerous smile. Y'know, you get me hotter than you could imagine."

She tilted her head back, allowing him to plant light kisses across her skin with soft whimpers coming from her lips.

Never in her life would Jimmie have thought a man- a rockstar, no less- would have her in such a state.

One arm wrapped around his neck to bring them closer, the other still grasping her plastic cup, Jimmie allowed the liquor to blur her thoughts. His lips found her own and they leaned into each other with fervor, their bodies now flush against one another before he pulled away. "You taste like whiskey."

She held a dreamy glaze in her eyes as she stared at him, hardly smirking, "Like it?"

Steven felt electrified by the way Jimmie gazed at him, and was, in fact, not pleased to hear that she would be skipping tonight's outing. However, he knew it made being with her that much more special after waiting for an entire night of dreaming about what they would do. What he would do.. to her.

"I'll miss you tonight." he said again, his hands massaging the curve of her hips with a curious touch.

"I'll be thinking about you, while I'm here," she tipped the cup back and sipped again after mumbling from behind the lip of the rim, "All alone."

He leaned his forehead on her shoulder, wrapping his arms fully around her torso and hugging her figure close to his own, "God, woman, why do you torture me?"

"I'll show you what real torture is, Adler."

The whiskey had usurped her self awareness as each thought tumbled directly from her mind out of her mouth, not regretting any part of it with the way Steven's sparkling eyes illuminated. Along with her last daring claim, Duff and Slash toppled from out of the hall, their focus landing on the kitchen entanglement that was Jimmie and their drummer.

"You comin' with?" Duff asked, peering into her cup as he approached the pair but backing away when he noticed the whiskey. Slash followed closely behind, actually sipping from her cup after Duff had dismissed it. "Y'know," he swallowed the rest of the liquor from her cup before grabbing the bottle and filling it back up, "I've got this new drink I want you to try. You'll fuckin' love it."