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.

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"Dude, we're gonna be sick if we keep drinking this shit." Slash filled Axl's half-glass of egg nog up to the top with the cheap rum they had bought earlier that week and had been saving for just this occasion.

"I thought the plan was to get fucked up."

"Yeah, I guess it is." Slash grinned. "Maybe we should just leave the egg nog out next round." He fixed an egg nog for himself and leaned back against the bed frame.

They drank in silence for a few minutes.

"It should be fucking snowing. I wish it would snow." Axl looked at Slash plaintively.

"Don't look at me like that, man, it's not my fault it doesn't snow here."

Axl shifted his position on the floor, nudging Slash's shoulder. He leaned back and let out a breath. "I'm never going to get used to this."

"No snow?"

"Having nothing better to do on Christmas Eve than get drunk."

"What would you rather do?"

"I dunno, Christmas stuff."

Another pause.

"Yeah." Slash's mind kept wandering back to the shoebox he had stashed under the bed.

He'd found it a few weeks ago while he was looking for a pair of pliers. Izzy had told him he needed them to wire together who-knows-what, and Slash hadn't asked questions. While rummaging through the box, a silver glint had caught his eye. Then he remembered.

Her name was Irina. She'd had wild black hair and the iciest, bluest eyes Slash had ever seen. She wore a Led Zeppelin t-shirt all the time, with no bra on underneath. Everyone said she'd knifed a girl at her last school. That she was crazy. But Slash hadn't cared. They had spent many nights sitting on her floor, listening to her vast record collection, smoking pot, and making out. For her birthday, Slash had given her a silver bracelet with lightning bolt charms. He'd even told her a mushy story about how meeting her had felt like a lightning bolt.

The day she broke up with him, she'd given it back.

Slash had kept it in the shoebox ever since then. The mushy story hadn't been just a bunch of sentimental bullshit. Slash had really felt like he'd met his match-- and that he'd never meet anyone like her again.

While Slash had been lost in thought, Axl had taken the opportunity to lean against Slash's shoulder.

"Hey," Slash said, suddenly back in the moment, and feeling a little awkward.

"Hm?" Axl turned his head and looked up at Slash's face.

"I have something for you."

"Oh?"

"Hold on, I'll get it."

Axl moved so Slash could reach back under the bed. Axl watched him slide the shoebox out and rummage through it. He caught a glimpse of something silver before Slash hid it in his fist.

"Give me your hand."

Axl eyed Slash suspiciously. "Why?"

"So I can give you the present." Slash grinned.

Axl regarded him warily for another second, and then stuck out his hand. In an instant, Slash had the charm bracelet wrapped around Axl's wrist.

"You can wear it onstage. It'll look really cool when the lights hit it."

"But where'd you..."

"I've had it for awhile."

"Yeah?" Axl quirked an eyebrow.

"I gave it to this chick I used to go out with, but she gave it back when she dumped me."

"Dude, why didn't you pawn it or something?"

Slash paused. Good question. Irina had been...what? His soul mate? No. But he had thought he would be with her for a very long time. He felt like they had been two of a kind, kindred spirits, even.

Axl stared at him.

"I guess it's like a symbol to me. It's like a symbol of when you finally meet somebody who...who's a lot like you. It's like, when you realize how much you're alike, it feels like a lightning bolt-- everything seems clearer and it's like there's this...feeling in the air...shit. That's really sappy, isn't it?" Blushing, Slash looked up from his lap to meet Axl's eyes. He was surprised to see Axl's serious expression.

"No, I get it." Axl reached up to brush Slash's hair away from his face. "Thanks," he whispered.

Then, before Slash could really process what was happening, Axl's mouth was against his lips and Axl's arms were around his shoulders and Axl's fingers were wrapped in his curls. The kiss couldn't have lasted more than three seconds, but nevertheless, the air left Slash's lungs in a rush as Axl withdrew.

Axl looked at Slash's stunned expression and smiled. Then he reached for the bottle of rum, poured them each a glass, handed one to Slash, and settled back against the bed frame.

"Here's to Guns N' Roses." He tipped his glass against Slash's.

"To Guns N' Roses."

As Slash gazed at Axl sitting next to him, he was sure he heard the crack of thunder somewhere in the distance.

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