You Don't Come Close.

11

When I try to get up, my legs are shaky, weak and as soon as I'm on my feet, there's a stinging pain increasing from my ass, making me grimace and hiss quietly. I'm all sticky from my own mess and Axls cum in between my ass cheeks and my inner thighs, but I just pull my pants up, too lazy and still too drunk to get rid of it now.

Axl watches me all the time, almost observing every move. "You're disgusting...", he says with a grin, cheeks flushed.

"You're not fuckin' better, man. And I'm going to shower later."

"You're not."

"Yeah...maybe not...I need a drink first. And something to fuckin' eat. I'm starving."

"Can you even walk?", he asks, not even hiding the sadistic laugh.

"Yes. Fuck you."

I'm a little stiff, careful when I walk out, less for my body, but I'm sure when I leave and return he'll start the thinking, the regretting, the pushing me away again. Damn, it was worth it, yes, but nevertheless- the bad part is still coming. But what can I do? I can't force him into being nice and staying close, allowing me to get a little nearer than he can stand.

I'm caught in my own thoughts when I enter the kitchen finding Duff standing there, searching for something. "Girls are gone?", I asks, but stop in the conversation when I see the look on his face as our eyes meet. I am not sure if he's going to burst out laughing or if he's just totally confused, but I am sure that he knows exactly what happened.

"Uhm...yes. No. Amy is still there. "

"Which one was it?"

Ok. Just trying to avoid talking about it.

"The blonde."

"Uh ok. Do we have something to eat?"

"No...maybe...dunno'...Slash?"

"Hm?" I almost dive into the fridge, hiding my face in there, searching too long for just a few beer cans and nothing else, just wishing for my blushed face to cool down.

"Are you ok?"

I lay my chin to the opened fridge door, watching him suspiciously. "What?!"

"Well...we heard your fight...I heard what you said to Axl."

"Ok..."

"Well...two options...he tried to beat you to death...or..."

Oh dear god. "Or?"

"Well judged by...uhm...the sounds..."

I dive back into the fridge, trembling hands grabbing for a beer, then I suddenly close it, standing up, annoyed by his slow attempts to just ask me what he wants to know. "If you want to say or ask something, just spill it, man."

And suddenly he's grinning and it can't mean anything good.

"What, Duff?!"

"I ...'Just fuck me bastard'...?"

I am blushing so hard like, I think, never before in my life, my fingers digging deep into the metal of my can of beer. Oh god. Goddammit. No. No. No. For a second I am searching for an answer, but I can't stand his amused and curious face, so I just turn around and leave, hurrying back into our room.

"Really Slash? Just running away?!", Duff shouts, laughing, but I'm ignoring him, closing the door behind me with force and waking a sleeping Axl with it.

He looks at me from half closed, sleepy looking eyes, humming lazily without really noticing what is going on as it seems. When he sees me there's another smile. "Come here", he murmurs while he roles to the side and I sit on the bed beside him, letting him pull me down and cuddle against me; affectionate, calm and quiet.