Disclaimer: The following story is a work of fiction. The author does not own any of the following names or personalities. The author does not imply that the people mentioned within would act or have acted in the ways depicted. No money has been made from this.

******

Axl had been anxious all night, which wouldn't be strange at all, except this was the big Guns N' Roses Christmas Eve party. We'd even hired chicks in little Mrs. Claus dresses to serve hors d'oeuvres and cocktails. One of them, a pretty blonde girl, even squeezed Axl's ass on her way by. Normally he would have had her on her knees in the coat closet in a second, but instead he jumped a mile, glared at her, and scurried off to the opposite corner of the room.

To the corner where I was sitting with my bottle of Jack. He stood directly in front of me, fist on hip. "How come you can get away with sitting on your ass in the corner..." He hooked a finger under the brim of my hat and pushed it up my forehead. "When every time I try to get away from these clowns, it's 'Axl, come over here, Axl, I want you to meet my best friend Bitch Horseteeth, Axl, I haven't seen you in ages, blah blah bullshit'?"

Axl whacked me in the nose with the bottle of Jack as he snatched it from my hand.

"Hey, watch it."

"Sorry," Axl said.

I watched him gulp down a couple shots worth of my whiskey. Some suit brushed Axl's shoulder as he walked by. Axl glared at the guy and took a step to the side, pressing his bony shoulder into my chest.

I leaned back a little. "Dude, calm down."

"You're drunk."

"No, I'm not."

Axl curled his lip at me and grabbed my arm. "Yeah, you are. We're getting out of here."

I let him lead me into the kitchen. I hopped up onto the counter as he opened the refrigerator and stuck his head inside. He emerged a couple seconds later with a tiny carton of leftover Chinese food. "What are you smiling about?"

"You. I was picturing you with a bonnet on. Like Little Red Riding Hood. You're already holding the picnic basket or whatever the fuck."

"You're drunk." The corners of Axl's mouth twitched like they do when he's trying not to laugh. He turned to face the refrigerator again and yanked the door open. This time when he turned around, he held a half empty bottle of wine. "Let's go upstairs."

"Okay."

We arrived a few minutes later at Axl's bedroom door. "Come on," he said, and threw the deadbolt in place immediately after we stepped inside. He took a deep breath. Then he sat down on the floor and dug into his egg rolls. "Here." He waved one at me. "I can't eat these all myself."

I sat down across from him and took the egg roll from his greasy fingers. "Thanks." We chewed in silence for a few minutes. "There's food down there. Why are we eating this?"

"Because that place is full of annoying motherfuckers. This is peace." He waved his arms around.

I took another drink. "Why are you so tense?"

Axl reached for his wine.

"And why am I up here with you instead of that blonde who pinched your ass?"

Axl's eyes narrowed.

"Dude, you just need to get laid." I lifted the JD to my lips again.

Axl threw back a mouthful of wine and then cast his eyes down at his lap.

Minutes passed as I waited for Axl to answer me. I reached under the bed for his old Gibson acoustic, took it out of its case, and busied myself with tuning it.

"Play 'Liar'."

My head jerked up. With such a sweet guitar in my lap, I'd almost forgotten he was in the room. "Damn, I haven't heard that in a long time."

Axl smiled. He leaned back on the plush carpeting as I played, and closed his eyes. I fucked up a chord. And the next chord. After a few more, I wasn't playing "Liar" at all. Axl opened one eye. "Sorry, man. It's been a long time."

"You're drunk." Axl took the guitar out of my hands and laid it back in its case.

"What's the matter with you?"

Axl's eyes searched mine. Then he looked away. "I want to be drunk, too." He reached for his wine.

I sighed and decided to change the subject. "You know, now that I think about it, that chick must have had fake tits."

Axl snorted. "Fake tits? Fake smile, fake personality... shit." He lifted the wine to his lips. "That's all there is anymore. Before it was fat chicks who wanted to feel special. We're supposed to get all the good girls now, right? Big shot rock stars that we are. Well, fuck 'em all." He slammed the bottle to the floor.

"I'm workin' on it."

Axl snorted again. "How do you do it? Nothing bothers you, man. Don't you ever feel like... Doesn't it drive you fucking crazy..." Axl rolled closer to me until his head bumped my knee. "How do you do it?"

I planted my bottle of Jack in the middle of his chest. His fingers closed around it. He looked up at me, and I covered his face with my hat. I heard his muffled laughter. Then he picked the hat up. "Your hat smells nice. It smells like your hair."

"You've been sniffing my hair?"

Axl rested his head on my thigh. "Of course I have, dude. It gets me high. Almost as good as coke." He laughed. His cheeks flushed a deeper pink.

I grinned down at him. "Now who's drunk?"

Axl reached up and slid his fingers into my hair. "Mmm." His hand moved to my neck, then brushed over my chest on its way back down to rest on his stomach. He shut his eyes. His head suddenly felt heavy against my leg.

"Dude, you can't sleep on the floor."

"Yes, I can. I'm a big rock star. I can sleep wherever I want. Except with you, right?" Axl laughed again.

"Come on, get up."

"And if I get up, what'll you give me? Besides fucking blue balls."

"Axl."

"Slash."

I pulled on his arm. He laughed again. "Just leave me alone, Slash."

"Damn it, you're sleeping in the bed if I have to hold you down on top of the fucker. The fucking floor is bad for your back. I don't want to hear you complaining about it later." Axl didn't struggle this time when I tried to pull him up. He swayed on his feet, though, so I slid my arm around his waist and pulled him closer to me.

"Hey Slash, how drunk do I have to be to get away with this?" He grabbed the back of my head and pulled my face toward his. I felt his warm breath against my lips. Then he kissed me.

I kissed back.

His lips were soft, just like I'd imagined they'd be. I could taste the wine on them.

He pulled away. "Shit, I'm not a queer." His hands roved over my chest. "You need... you need fucking tits, man."

I shook my head and directed him toward the bed. "Go to sleep."

He fell into bed and pulled the blanket around him.

"Good night, Axl."

"Yeah."

I opened the door.

"Slash? Have a... have a cool Yule, or whatever the kids are saying these days."

"Yeah man, you too."

###