Rockstar One-shots

Hotel Room Lovin

Mick tuned his guitar quietly and put it back on the rack, picking up another one and tuning it slightly different. He looked out on stage, he didn't want to perform, he just wanted to go home.

Even through their show, he seemed rather uninterested. He just wanted to go get drunk alone in his hotel room. He racked his guitars after the show, and shoved off everyone that wanted to try and talk to him. He swore, the next person who touched him, he'd hit with a full bottle of vodka.

"Hey buddy"

Mick grabbed the mysterious person's wrist and bent it backwards, turning on his heels to hit whoever was behind him.

"Sorry, someone said you were a bit jumpy, I should've-"

Mick quickly withdrew his hand and bottle upon recognizing Steven Adler from their opening act.

"Your buddies and mine are gettin drinks, if you wanna come?" Steven asked.

"Sorry about your wrist" Mick cringed slightly, noticing it was red now.

"Nah it's cool, I bust shit all the time" Steven chuckled. "I think everyone already left, uhm, I ah, I think they just kinda forgot I was here, but I can get a car and... take us? If you wanna go?" He rambled.

"I was actually just gonna go get drunk in my hotel room" Mick started to say.

"Oh! Well, I think I might go to mine too, I don't think I know where they went" Steven rambled a bit more.

"You can come too, if you'd like, I think we were both left behind" Mick said. "Besides... I can get some ice for..." he gestured to Steven wrist. "Fuck, I'm sorry"

"It's cool dude, it's my fault, I'm
Sorry" Steven apologized. "I'm gonna go grab, and by grab I mean steal, some more booze, and..."

"I'll wait here for you" Mick said.

"Cool, I will be right back" Steven offered a warm smile at Mick before skipping off.

What the fuck is my problem? Mick thought to himself. What the fuck is HIS problem? He felt as if Steven suddenly lost his mind, agreeing to drink with him.

"Dude I don't give a shit!" Steven suddenly said, walking backwards, booze in hand, out of a hallway. "Let me form my own fuckin opinions"

"Steve... I'm warnin ya man..." a mystery man said. "He's... he's not good to be around"

"I" Stevie clapped his hands between words. "Do not give a shit" He clinked some bottles together. "We are going to go drink together, eat some food, and y'all can't tell me no"

Mick watched Stevie physically wiggle out of a conversation. He smiled slightly to himself, he didn't realize Steven Adler would be so charming off stage.

"I got whiskey, and coconut booze. Shit's like candy" Steven said smiling.

"Cmon then, hotel's across the road" Mick said.

"Lead on, good sir" Steven giggled.

Steven followed close as they exited the venue and waited at the crosswalk. Their light turned and before Steven took another step into the road, Mick grabbed his hand and pulled him back, as a car ran a red light.

"Fuck!" Steven squeaked, cowering into Mick's shoulder.

"Shit... you okay?" Mick asked, squeezing Steven's hand lightly, and coaxed him to cross the road with him.

"Fuck..." Steven breathed. He seemed on edge as they crossed.

"Cmon... let's get inside" Mick said.