Buttered Popcorn

Chapter 8: February 19, 1987

'If you don't like oral sex, keep your mouth shut'

I snorted at the shirt, chuckling to myself and letting a smile spread across my lips. I had always loved Slash's dumb shirts, no matter how vulgar or stupid they were. "What's so funny?" Slash looked over, furrowing his eyebrows but unable to let a grin of his own stop from growing on his features.

"Your shirt." I chuckled again, shaking my head. "You like it?" He stretches out the material to reveal the full design and words, proudly beaming. "Absolutely. It really fits you."

"Right?! I think it got thrown on stage or something. Pretty badass though, huh?" With the prominent smile on his lips never leaving, he chuckled along side with me. "Oh, for sure. Those shirts always crack me up." I admitted.

"Yeah? Go ahead and take one." he shrugged. "Huh?" "Yeah! It's whatever, I won't miss any of them. They'll look better on you, anyway. I'll probably get another one sooner or later." he assured, waving me off to his bedroom.

"You're the best, dude." I nudged him excitedly and quickly scrambled off to his room down the hall. Slash, Duff, Axl and I were all in the living room, listening to music and chatting about anything and everything.

Rummaging though the mass of clothes in the room, I held each one up and read the words. Of course, they were all signature Slash shirts, if he wore one at all.

'Love sucks. True love swallows.'

'Sluts'

'Life sucks then you die'

'Wasted Youth'

'Fuck Cen***ship'

'Follow me. I'm having drinks with Elvis.'

Classy, if I do say so myself. I grabbed the one that read 'unfuck the world' and began making my way back to the living room, stripping out of my top and slipping into the new shirt as I did so. The boys managed to spot me before I could get the shirt completely back over me, revealing my bra to them and earning a few whoops and hollers.

"Ooh! Alright, Jimmie! Take it off, baby!" Duff cheered jokingly, wiggling his eyebrows as I approached the couch. "Whew! Man, I can see why you got slapped for talking about her like that when you guys first met... but damn!" Axl eyed my up and down, despite me now wearing a shirt.

"Yeah, yeah, lay off," Slash chuckled, "Good pick, by the way, Jimmie. Really brings out your eyes." he winked. Obviously it didn't, but I did appreciate the compliment.

The boys were all drinking some form of booze. Duff with a beer, Axl had one as well, and of course Slash with his whiskey. "Wanna do me a solid?" I leaned over to Duff, smiling to sell my offer. "Hm, depends what it is." He turned to face me, his nose only a mere few inches away from my own.

"Wanna grab me a drink?" He cocked an eyebrow, the smirk never leaving his lips, "Alcoholic?" "Of course." "Then it'd be a pleasure." he winked, getting up and making his way to the kitchen.

A Prince vinyl was spinning on the record player, currently streaming 'Kiss' in the air. "Hey, who sings this?" Duff called from behind the counter. "You don't know?" I looked over to him in disbelief, then switching to Slash who only shrugged in agreement, "Seriously? Axl?"

"Oh, I know. Yeah, it's uh.. shit. It's on the tip of my tongue. It's that fuckin' fruit, Prince." he smiled proudly of his claim, successfully remembering the name. I elbowed him in the ribs, getting a groan, "Don't call him that, fuckface. He's a good singer."

"You like this shit? This is damn near disco music!" Slash scoffed from beside me, shaking his head. "No it's not. You guys just don't have taste." I rolled my eyes and thanked Duff quietly as he handed me a red solo cup of vodka mixed with a tad bit of soda, "Jesus, Duff, I wanted some soda with this vodka, y'know."

"Can't handle it?" he teased. "Oh, please." I scoffed, skulling half of the cup in just a few gulps. The taste burned and I wanted to throw up right then and there, but I knew the boys would absolutely never let me forget it, so I held back the urge to gag.

'Don't have to be rich to be my girl
Don't have to be cool to rule my world
Ain't no particular sign I'm more compatible with
I just want your extra time and your
Kiss'

Duff hummed beside me, adding in the smooches in the song for effect. "Oh, fruit, huh? Look, your own bassist is singing!" I said cockily, glancing to Slash and Axl. "Duff, stop, you're making us look bad." the singer muttered. 

"It's catchy." Duff shrugged back, continuing to mumbled along to the song. "We should go out tonight. Maybe to Les's club. Is she working?" Axl asked while finishing the rest of his beer.

"I thought you guys were done?" I questioned. I refrained to mention that she hadn't mentioned anything about her and Axl in what seemed like ages. "Eh, nothing official or exclusive. Man, I'll tell you, that bitch is crazy." the redhead sighed.

"Watch it." I nudged him again in his ribs. He raised his hands in surrender, "Hey, all I'm saying is she's real sensitive and gets attached too easy. I mean, I bought her a necklace one time and she thinks we're like.. married? I dunno, it's kind of complicated right now."

"How is it complicated? Seems simple enough to me," Slash shrugged, "You guys either together, or aren't. It isn't rocket science."

"Well, Slash," Axl started, saying the guitarist's name with a sassy attitude, "I haven't actually asked her out or anything like that. We're kind of just fuck buddies right now. She's real good in bed."

"Watch it," I hissed again, "Don't talk about her like she's a sex doll." "Ooh, she told you. Careful, Ax, you're gonna get Jimmie all mad." Duff jeered, smiling as Slash chuckled beside me.

"You guys are dicks." I huffed. "Aw, come on, it's just guy talk! Don't spaz just 'cause he said he likes fucking your friend." Slash laughed, nudging my side playfully.

"Do you hear yourselves? You can't justify objectifying my friend- or any woman for that matter- by saying it's 'guy talk'. Fucking idiots." I mumbled, sinking deeper into the couch and looking at the wall in front of me. Obviously I wasn't going to let them get away with talking about anyone like that. Have some decency!

"Alright, alright!" Axl surrendered, clearly a bit aggravated, "Jesus, it wasn't that serious." Instead of continuing to fuel the fire by saying something back, I just sighed and kept staring ahead. The air in the room was tense and quite awkward now, due to me completely killing the mood, but I didn't care.

"You guys wanna go to a bar?" Duff asked after a few minutes. Nobody said anything for a while until Slash spoke up, "Fuck it, I'm in. I need a drink." "Ax?" Duff asked, looking back from the front door that he was about to open. "Yeah, yeah, I'm coming."

I stayed on the couch, bouncing my leg and ignoring all that went on around me. "Jim? You comin'?" Duff made his way over to me, leaning directly in front of my face to break my staring contest with the wall. "No." I said blandly. I didn't really have a reason to be mad at him, but I wasn't in the best mood.

"Come on! Don't be a drag, it'll be fine." he urged, grabbing at my arm and trying to pull me up. "I'll pass. Stevie and I will hang when he gets back."

"Aw, you're ditching us for the drummer? Harsh." he joked, I could tell there was a small serious undertone, though. I only shrugged in response. "It might be a while until he comes back. Might as well come with us." I shrugged again, "I'll wait."

"Duff! Let's go! Just leave her, she's in a mood." Axl ordered. "Women. What can 'ya do? " Slash snickered beside him. "Go leave with your idiot friends." I had yet to look Duff in the eye, who was still leaning beside me.

He gave a defeated huff before standing up straight, "Fine. But, you're always welcome to hang with us. With me, at least." I finally met his gaze with my own, giving a small nod. "Alright, let's bust this joint!" the bassist yelled, whooping as he slammed the door behind him.

"Dumbasses." I muttered to myself. I was now alone on the couch, bored out of my mind. What could I do now?