Book Two : Aveline. | Slash Fanfiction

chapter ten

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TEN - 1992, On A Boat.

          "OH NO." IZZY mumbled, settling further into the uncomfortable seat with a large gulp, scratching the back of his hair regretfully. "Oh no." He continued to repeat, clearing his throat. "I'm gonna be sick, man."

"Don't! For the love of god, Izzy, please don't chuck up." Aveline exclaimed, holding the trash bag closer to where the black haired guitarist gagged and spat into the abyss, lurching occasionally as a cough came wetter than expected.

Due to a lack of communication, the band - excluding Axl, of course - were highly uninformed of the transportation they would be forced to take in order to cross the water and enter the British Isles, and Izzy - with his incapability to function correctly when riding waves - wasn't handling the Ferry Ride too well. His mind was foggy and his throat ached from wrenching and spitting and gagging and coughing up things that he no longer had withering around in his digestive system. Then again, being extremely hung over - as they all were - didn't entirely help. However, for Saul, he intended on sleeping through the whole ride peacefully, not bothering to explore the deck or whatever.

But the boat truly was beautiful.

Before having been informed of Izzy's state, Duff and Aveline had wandered along its perimeter, taking a quick peak here and there to view the fine art surrounding the architecture. It was mostly a crystal white, the furniture plastic and shiny with sandy brown oak tables, china dishes and cups adding to the aesthetic of it all. Copious amounts of useless utensils served for finger-food, a bar occupied by the majority of the boys as the tender shot them concerned looks - all of which were blatantly ignored with another celebratory drink.

Though now, the two were suffering on 'Izzy duty', as Duff decided to refer to it as. Aveline glanced over to the towering blonde, raising a curious eyebrow in his direction as she leaned up, attempting to peer further inside of his red cup - something he occasionally swigged at as though it were insignificant and unimportant to the matter at hand. Which, Aveline supposed, it sort of was.

"Whatcha got there, Duff-o?" She grinned, squinting slightly against the pearly white paint's light reflection, the pure and bright light seizing her ability to see correctly, though she could make out his soft smirk as he shook his head in response.

Duff smiled simply, a soft dimple appearing in his left cheek as he replied to her inquiry. "Duff-o." He mimicked, thick amusement riddled in his tone, "I've never been called that before."

"Really?" She drew her brows together, surprisingly curious to discover what was in his glass. It didn't smell of anything. Perhaps that was the main cause of her interest, of her intrusiveness.

"Yeah." He breathed a small chuckle and held out the beverage, nodding with a smile for her to give it a try. It almost beckoned to her taste buds - oddly enough causing her mouth to water. What was this sensation? This craving to delve into something she most likely wouldn't even enjoy? Aveline hadn't a clue, but she decided that she liked all the change - all the snoopiness she was newly filled with. "Have some, its nice, I promise."

And foolishly, she believed the bleached dick, pressing the plastic glass to her lips and taking one large gulp of the scorching yet sweet and utterly fizzy concoction; spluttering and coughing the moment the liquid ran - spikely - down her throat. It burned - it really fucking burned - and ached her tonsils.

"What the fuck is that?" She gasped, choking on her own saliva.

Duff laughed teasingly, patting her back softly enough that she felt the tap whisper a quick 'you're a pussy' in her ear. His voice was mocking and joking, rigged with sarcasm and laced with amusement. "You don't like it?" He chuckled. "God, man, I drink this shit all the time."