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Sunset-strip - Blog Posts
A Songbird's Life, Love and Loss! (on Wattpad) https://www.wattpad.com/story/261373195-a-songbird%27s-life-love-and-loss?utm_source=web&utm_medium=tumblr&utm_content=share_myworks&wp_uname=hannahwootton92&wp_originator=abc7DgdyVdz3p9MnsBW7pxuqe9iUJOOPmu7m02O1I5PkaRHR9I2nVhmCxz0cijYnJa4jlJMeKHi2o8K6c7oYcOfDaHwkql3jWh8I9HLWSb08EcIswCQWSXnIxbolviKC In 1987 22 year old Evie-Marie From the small village of Hatton, Derbyshire in the Midlands Lives and works in London, where she works with a Bass player from Liverpool who introduces her to a group of American Musicians looking for a Singer and a Bass player. Their journey as a band starts and Evie's Life will change forever through Love and Loss!
Sunset Love ch. 8: The hour before dawn
AN: Here’s the next part in my Slaxl fic. Hope you like it! If you do, please Reblog, share, Like, etc. xx
***
Slash sucked deeply on the reefer someone had passed him, leaned back his head and blew up a long, slow stream of aromatic smoke at the sky.
It was sometime in the darkest part of the night, before dawn. His head swirled as he surveyed the blackness above. The noise in the lot outside their rehearsal space off Sunset and Gardner - music from a ghetto blaster, voices, laughter, bottles breaking, cans crunching, grunts from people fucking - was all around him, but he felt remote from it, disconnected.
A dull pain rumbled somewhere in his gut. He couldn't identify it ... He closed his eyes. Oh yes. He remembered. He had fucked some chick and Axl was giving him the silent treatment. In fact, he hadn't seen him since they left the Whisky.
Rage swelled in Slash's throat. He had known this ... thing... between him and Axl was a bad idea. He shook his head. He had been drunk, high, lonely, let his guard down... whatever. And now look where they were: Axl breaking his balls, acting like a fucking teenage girl.
He shoved the reefer into someone's hand and pushed his way through the crowd in the lot, looking around him. He was going to have it out with that motherfucker once and for all.
He searched all over the lot and the alley. No sign. Slash elbowed his way past some people and pushed through the half-open door to their rehearsal space. He heard a female voice moaning and looked up to the loft. In the half-light cast by a lamp on the floor, he made out Axl, his face buried in some girl's breasts, his ass humping energetically between her thighs.
Slash stood, frozen, for a second. Axl must have heard him come in because he lifted his head. When he saw it was Slash, an expression crossed his face... what was it? Through the haze in his head, Slash realised it was... vengeful.
Slash stumbled out the door. Appalled, he felt tears pricking behind his eyeballs. What the fuck? He wasn't seriously upset?
He went and stood at end of the alley where it opened into Gardner Street, the party roaring behind him. He pulled a crumpled pack of Marlboros out of his back pocket, lit up with shaking hands, inhaled and closed his eyes.
Footsteps on the ground behind him. A rough hand at his shoulder, pulling him around.
They stood facing each other. Slash sucked coolly on his cigarette. Its brief glow highlighted Axl's face, his lips pressed together in a snarl. No fucking way am I saying anything, thought Slash. Let's see if the amazing lyricist has the balls to talk first.
Slash couldn't help smirking when Axl opened his mouth.
"Your little performance in the Whisky didn't mean shit to me, asshole."
Slash couldn't help having a little fun. He widened his eyes.
"You didn't like my playing?"
Axl's eyes narrowed and Slash saw the muscles in his jaw tighten.
"Funny. Making eyes at that chick all night. Making sure everyone saw you going into the restrooms with her. Acting like the big fucking stud coming back out."
Axl shoved his hands into the back pockets of his leather trousers. He was clearly trying hard to be cool but his chest was heaving.
Slash frowned.
"Are you kidding, man? That chick gave me the eye first, not the other way around. And I don't give a fuck who did or didn't see."
Slash exhaled his last drag and ground the cigarette under his toe. He steeled himself. He was going to say it.
"What the fuck do you care, anyway? We fuck chicks, that's what we do, what we've always done. I did it tonight, you did it tonight. Who gives a fuck?"
Axl was looking at his own toes now. He rubbed a hand over his mouth and turned away.
Slash turned away too and looked down Gardner at the intersection with Sunset Boulevard. A solitary car sped through, going west, and disappeared into the night. The low, ever-present, night-time hum resumed. There were hours to go yet before the day's din began.
His head ached. A familiar emptiness was gnawing at the edges of his consciousness. What was he doing with his life?
"Slash."
That voice. That deep rumble. It made his goofy nickname sound like poetry.
"I -".
An exhale, almost like a gasp. Slash looked around. Axl's back was still turned, he was still looking at the ground. Was he actually stuck for words?
"What?" snapped Slash, a harsh tone to his voice. He wasn't going to make it easy.
Another exasperated breath.
"I - I didn't like it." Another pause before Axl continued. "You and the chick in the Whisky. It - it made me pretty fucking pissed. Okay? You happy now?"
Slash felt warmth seep through his belly. Axl was jealous and... Slash realised he liked it.
Axl's arm was cold when Slash reached out and pulled him around as Axl had done to him minutes before. He folded the other man into his arms.
"Jesus fucking Christ," hissed Axl. Slash felt himself being pushed roughly up against the wall around the corner from the alley opening.
"D'you want someone to see us?" Axl demanded, his face close to Slash's.
For a split second he thought Axl was about to beat the shit out of him. Then he felt the other man enveloping him in his arms and burying his face in Slash's neck.
Slash slowly circled his arms around Axl's sinewy torso and stroked the back of Axl's head, equal mixtures of relief and arousal flooding through him.
"I'm fucking pissed at you, too," he said softly into Axl's hair.
He felt Axl's ribcage contort with a chuckle.
"That girl there?" Axl's voice came muffled against the fabric on Slash's shoulder. "I totally did that to get back at you, man."
Slash held his friend tight, drinking in his scent, a sweet blend of sex, sweat, smoke, whisky, and something else, something undefinable that was just pure Axl. His head was swimming again, but not from weed this time. Axl had shown vulnerability.
Slash felt Axl lift his head and slowly, cautiously, touch the tip of his nose to Slash's. That cute, adorable nose. Slash gently kissed it, the soft skin around it, then moved his lips down. Their mouths met hesitantly, almost carefully, as if they were mindful not to hurt each other again. The kiss deepened slowly as they held each other even more tightly, Axl's pillowy lips so incredibly soft and yielding, Slash drinking in the taste of him. Their tongues found each other and intertwined, harder now, searching inside each other's mouths more urgently, hands grasping in each other's hair.
Axl pulled his mouth away, his breath coming hot and fast.
"I want you, Slash," he whispered, pushing his forehead against Slash's, eyes closed.
"I want you too," said Slash.
Without another word, they made for their door in the alley, heads down, not looking at anyone. A quick glance inside showed it was empty. Axl pulled the door shut after him and fumbled for his keychain in the dim lamplight. Slash heard the grind of the lock in the metal door.
Their bodies slammed together, hands everywhere, pushing off clothes, pulling at belt buckles. Slash yanked off Axl's pants, followed by his own. He had never felt such want; he wanted all of Axl, every part of him, now. Their mouths sucked at each other greedily, teeth pierced delicate lips, the taste of blood tinged Slash's tongue and it was good, so good.
"Loft," panted Axl.
Sunset Love, ch. 7: Not a glance
AN: It's been a while... the weather is shit today and I'm grumpy!! Thanks for coming back -- or coming for the first time. I try to make the parts work on their own as well as being part of a longer story. Hope you like this one. xx
The chick with the low-cut top standing at the side of the dance floor had been looking up at him since the start of their set. It was quite clear from her expression what was on her mind. In between his riffs and solos, Slash was keeping an eye on her from behind his hair on stage.
It was 9 P.M. on a Tuesday night and the Whisky was almost empty. The night hadn't even really started yet. But this was what you did when you were an unknown band - you started at the bottom of the bill, early in the week.
To give him his due, Axl wasn't letting the sparse audience affect his performance. He was giving it his all, as he always did: shirt thrown aside, sweat gleaming in the stage lights, the muscles in his back tightening and relaxing along with his voice.
Slash had given up pretending to himself that he wasn't watching Axl every chance he got to do so unobserved. On stage - behind his guitar and his hair, the other guys absorbed in their playing - was the perfect place. That writhing, snake-like body, ink standing out against the whiteness of the skin, the black leather pants slung low around the hips, barely clinging on...
Axl rang out the closing notes of their new song, 'Don't Cry', and let them reverberate around the room. A few hesitant hand claps echoed around the walls and their set was over.
The girl was still there. They made eye contact again and Slash felt a rush to his groin. Relief flowed through him. He was still straight. Whatever was going on with Axl didn't make him a fag. He cocked his head towards the restroom door beside the stage and the girl gave a brief nod.
***
He buried his face in the girl's breasts and pulled her hips closer to his. She anchored her arms behind his neck and wrapped both her legs around his waist. The flimsy partitions in the Whisky toilets rattled as he began banging himself into her, pushing her against the wall to keep her up. It was skeezy but that was OK; he was into it and she certainly was too, thrusting her pelvis energetically against him and digging her nails into the skin on his back. He dragged his lips across her chest from one tit to the other, relishing the yielding softness, so different from...
He pulled his head up suddenly.
"What the fuck?" the girl gasped, her face in his shoulder. "Don't stop!"
Had he stopped? He resumed his frantic banging into her but was having trouble focusing on the task at hand. He'd been comparing this to ... how he felt doing the same thing with Axl. Jesus.
He squeezed his eyes tight and thank fucking Christ, he was about to come now... he exploded into her, clutching her buttocks tight to keep her in position. He kept thrusting til he was spent.
"Thanks, honey," he muttered, panting, as he let her down and hoisted his pants up. The girl grabbed some tissue and cleaned inside her thighs, looking none too happy.
"Yeah, really fucking great," she said, glaring. "What was that - like, twenty seconds?"
"Fuck you," he retorted, though he flushed inwardly. He knew he'd been selfish; he'd taken what he wanted from her and he just wanted to get out of there.
"Fuck YOU, asshole," she shouted and slammed the stall door behind her.
***
The next band was slamming out their first chords as he slunk out of the bathroom. More people were wandering in; cigarette smoke billowed, people's hands hung out over the balcony upstairs, some girls clustered against the front of the stage. Slash made out Duff, Izzy and Axl leaning against the bar at the other side of the room with their buddies West and Del, knocking back bottles of beer.
"Ah, here's the dirty dog," said Duff, grinning, holding out an arm as Slash approached. "Taking care of business, eh?"
They had all seen him disappear into the bathroom after the girl. The group chuckled indulgently, admiringly even.
Slash shrugged and flicked his eyes discreetly to Axl, as had become his habit. Axl was standing a little apart from the group, studying the band on stage intently. Slash mouthed 'Jack and coke' to the barman and checked back again. Yep, Axl was still acting like he wasn't there.
Slash sucked down his drink hungrily and signalled to the barman for another. He nodded along as Steven enthused to him about something, but he wasn't listening. Minutes passed and Axl's back remained firmly towards him.
Slash frowned in confusion. Sure, Axl was moody, and unexplained silences were a thing with him. This was one of those episodes, right? It couldn't be ... the girl, could it? Getting as much pussy as possible was one of their core aims as a band. Surely there was no way Axl was ... jealous?
At some point later, after several more drinks, Izzy flung his arm around Axl's shoulders, dragged him back to the group and forced him to clink bottles.
"Our position at the bottom of the bill continues uncontested!" exclaimed Izzy, lifting his drink into the air mock-heroically.
"How many was that tonight, four people?" mused Duff. "Two of them were our friends who we bribed with free beer -" he gestured to Del and West, who raised their drinks graciously - "One was that strung-out guy by the door who clearly hadn't a fucking clue where he was, and the other was that girl who just came to fuck Slash."
Axl looked away sharply, examining the ceiling. Everyone else was too drunk to notice, or care. But Slash knew now. It was the fucking girl.
"Better than our first gig," said Steve. "The Troubadour, before Seattle? Two people - the bar manager and that random guy who said he thought we were gonna be some other band?"
"Your fan base is growing, then," declared Del. "I call that progress." More cheering and clinking bottles.
Slash wanted to leave, wanted to get Axl on his own and demand to know what the fuck was going on, but the guys were in roaring form and the drinks were coming thick and fast. It was easier to just stay.
The headlining band came on, the club had filled to capacity, bodies packed in, the music and noise deafening - and their collective cash had dried up.
"Back to the Sunset and Gardner Hotel and Villas!" roared Steve, throwing his arm around Slash's neck. Slash had loosened up a bit. The knots in his shoulders were relaxing and he could talk more. Thank fuck for that. He didn't care as much about things with plenty of alcohol on board. He headed for the door with the rest of them, not casting a glance at Axl.
***
AN: It took a while to get this part right. I really want to hear what you think of it - it's harder to write tension than the lovey-dovey stuff :) Please leave me a comment.
izzy stradlin & slash in the ‘80s ♥️
Am I going crazy or do Axl Rose and Charlie Kirk have the same cursed smile
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Axl Rose and Tracii Guns
a true dream 🥹
don't you ever just want to go back to the 80s and go experience the height of the sunset strip, go to crazy hairmetal concerts, and try to run into your favorite band members? man that's just the dream