Duff looked adorably puzzled sitting there in the middle of the bed, hair all rumpled, post sex cigarette clutched in his long fingers. He wore the lost puppy look so well that Slash sometimes wondered if he practiced it in front of the mirror. It wouldn’t have surprised him at all. There was something too innocent about Duff. It couldn’t possibly be real.
“I do?” There! Perfect example. There was no fucking way one human being could be so vacant unless it was deliberate. “I’m pretty sure I’m not, Saul. I mean… why would I kid about something like that?”
“Don’t call me that,” Slash said automatically. He’d already lost the name battle, but he still had to try. Duff smiled sweetly and sucked on his cigarette, nodding.
“Sorry, Saul,” he chirped. “I won’t do it again!”
I hate my life and want to die. I hate my life and want to die. Deep breaths, man…
“Duff, listen carefully,” he said, holding out his hands and speaking very slowly. Sometimes it was a good idea to treat Duff like he was retarded. The guy was just willfully stupid when he didn’t want to hear something. “You just said something that you didn’t really mean. You remember what it was?”
Duff shook his head no.
“Okay, what was the last thing you said?” Slash asked patiently. It was hard; all he wanted to do was reach over and smack Duff upside the head.
“’I won’t do it again’,” Duff parroted obediently. He had to do it on purpose! No actual human being could be so fucking clueless. Slash clenched his fists and tried again.
“Before that. Before, when we were lying in bed and you’d just lit your cigarette.”
“Oh!” Duff beamed and Slash let himself relax a little bit. It wasn’t so bad, he just had to remember to be very clear with Duff. It wasn’t fair of him to wonder if Duff had an IQ equivalent to that of a moldy sock. They’d both had a little bit to drink. It was only natural that Duff wasn’t entirely with it.
“I don’t remember!”
Anger
“What the fuck do you mean you don’t remember!?”
Slash was well aware that he was howling. His voice bounced off the walls and echoed in his ears, unpleasant and shrill. Only Duff could drive him into such a rage. It made him wonder why he bothered in the first place.
“I don’t remember,” Duff said, still smiling and placid, cigarette dangling from his lips.
“I heard that part,” Slash grated, fingers curling into fists. “How do you not remember? You just said it five seconds ago!” Duff cocked his head and Slash heroically resisted the impulse to slap the everloving shit out of him.
“Did I?” Duff mused. Smoke billowed out of his nostrils and he smiled sweetly. “I think it must have been longer than that. You don’t remember either!”
“Of course I do!”
“Then why are you asking me?” If anyone else had said it, it would have been a defensive sentence. When Duff uttered it, it was soft and reasonable and faintly quizzical. Slash wondered if he’d been dropped on his head repeatedly as a child.
“Because, you colossal idiot!” And he stopped there, not really sure why he wanted Duff to repeat himself. To confirm that he’d actually heard what he thought he’d heard, he supposed. “Just… because!”
“Saul, are you okay?” Slash ground his teeth audibly, but Duff didn’t seem to notice. In fact, he seemed utterly oblivious to Slash’s growing rage. “You seem tense. Maybe you should have a drink or something. Quit pacing at least…”
“You know, if I killed you right now, it would be justifiable homicide!” Slash immediately regretted his words as Duff’s eyes grew slowly. It was a low down, dirty trick that Duff used with great success, eyes continuing to widen until they teared up just enough to be slightly watery. It worked like a charm, too.
Bargaining
“Aw, no, come on,” Slash wheedled, crawling onto the bed. “Don’t get like that…”
Duff continued to stare at him, soft brown eyes huge and wounded. He looked like a sad, scared little animal, like those dogs that they showed on commercials for animal shelters. Take me home, cause if you don’t the image of my giant puppy eyes will HAUNT YOU FOR LIFE. Slash had always felt those commercials were fundamentally unfair.
“You wanna kill me, Saul?” Duff asked, lower lip trembling a little. Yet another low blow out of his arsenal of pathetic expressions. They shouldn’t have worked so well, both because Slash knew they were phony and because he simply wasn’t a nice enough person to care.
“No, man, I don’t wanna kill you.” Not really. Ish. “I just wish you wouldn’t be so… so…” He couldn’t say stupid because then Duff would do the little shoulder hunching flinch thing and all of Slash’s willpower would evaporate. “Vacant.”
Duff’s eyebrows drew down a little and his fingers plucked at the bedspread. It was a step up from the flinchy shoulder thing, but not a very big one. “You think I’m stupid, don’t you?”
“No!” Yes! A lot! And you do it on purpose! “I don’t think you’re stupid. I just want to know what you said earlier…”
“I don’t remember!” Duff protested, a plaintive note entering his voice. Slash automatically crawled forward and wrapped his arms around Duff’s shoulders, cuddling him close.
“Yes you do, babe. I know you do,” Slash said, voice low and soothing as he stroked Duff’s hair. Duff dropped all pretense of being sad and confused, and nuzzled up, grinning. Lanky bastard. “C’mon, Duffy, think.”
“Can’t think,” Duff answered. His voice was purry now, like a satisfied cat.
“What if I scratched your back?” Slash knew how much Duff loved having his back scratched. It was practically an orgasmic experience for him.
“Ooh!” Duff was on his stomach before Slash had time to blink. “That might help.”
Rolling his eyes, Slash straddled Duff’s hips and began to run his fingers lightly up and down Duff’s spine. His fingernails were too short and ragged to really scratch, but his callused fingers made up for that a little. Duff certainly seemed to enjoy it. His long, lean body wriggled against the blankets happily, little mewls and purrs escaping his lips.
It was actually pretty adorable until he started snoring.
Depression
“DUFF!”
Duff came awake with a little snort, eyes blinking blearily. Slash had retreated to the other end of the bed, arms folded across his bare chest, dark eyes narrowed. He was positive now that Duff was deliberately trying his patience. There was just no way around it.
“Oooh, Saul,” Duff cooed, holding out his arms and wiggling his fingers. He stretched like a lazy cat, muscles shifting under his pale skin, and Slash’s mouth went dry. Fuck him for being so pretty. “Good morning. Can we have pancakes?”
“…morning.” The despair was evident in Slash’s voice. Duff was clearly attempting to drive him completely insane by being vapid and difficult. He had to be. It just wasn’t possible for someone to be so fucking stupid. “Duff. You were asleep for about a minute.”
“Really? It felt like longer,” Duff chirped, sitting up and grabbing his cigarettes. “Do you need one?”
Slash just stared at him. He’d really run out of options at this point. Obviously, there was no pressing Duff into giving up the answers that he wanted. Barter had failed. The only course of action left to him was total surrender. Well, that or flinging himself out of a twelfth story window, but he valued his life a little too much for that option.
Numbly, he took a cigarette.
“It is getting late,” Duff continued, as though his best friend wasn’t sitting on the bed contemplating dramatic suicide. “We should go to bed soon. Are you sleeping here or going back to your own room?”
“Does it matter?” Slash muttered. Of course it didn’t. If he left, Duff would knock on his door within fifteen minutes complaining about how his bed was too big or his neighbors were too noisy or the heat in his room didn’t work. It was always something different, and he always ended up in the bed with Slash. Eventually, Slash had figured out the scam, so now he just cut out the middle part for simplicity’s sake. “I’ll stay here.”
“Ooh, good.” Duff beamed through the cigarette smoke and Slash felt like crying. Why did things have to be so fucking difficult? Why was Duff so fucking frustrating? “Maybe when I wake up I’ll remember what I said, and then I can tell you!”
If Slash had been a cartoon, his head would have exploded.
Acceptance
“Dude, are you fucking around with me?”
Duff cocked his head and put on his best innocently puzzled expression. Slash met it with a steady stare. “What do you mean, Saul?”
“I mean, are you fucking around with me?” Slash repeated patiently. “I know you remember what you said. So why are you dicking around?” A little pout curled Duff’s lips, but Slash remained unaffected. Somehow, he’d reached a plateau of Zen-like calmness about the entire situation.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Duff said, grinding his cigarette out and settling back against the pillows with a little huff. “You’re being crazy tonight, dude.” There was a pause, then Duff said loftily, “Maybe you should sleep in your own room.”
“Should I just tell you what you said?” The scowl on Duff’s face deepened.
“If it would make you feel better,” he answered, folding his arms across his chest. Slash contemplated that for a moment. It really wouldn’t make him feel better, but he might as well do it. Duff would continue to be impossible otherwise.
“I love you,” he stated simply, voice devoid of emotion. True, the words had left Duff’s lips in the heat of the moment, but his big brown eyes had been so fucking sincere. It was a little bit freaky. He opened his mouth to continue, but Duff cut him off.
“Aww! That’s so sweet, Saul!” Beaming, Duff sat up and wrapped his wiry arms around Slash’s shoulders, hugging him close. “I love you, too! Now come to bed…”
Slash just stared, mouth gaping open. Was that…? What just happened? Had he just been tricked into professing his love? Duff smiled sweetly from his nest of pillows, one eye closing in a slow, knowing wink. Fuck!! He had been tricked! Screw Duff! Screw all of this! He’d go back to his room and call a hooker and…
But he didn’t get out of the bed. In fact, he settled beside Duff and held his arms out as the bassist curled against him. He was still a little bit in shock, and fully intended to take it all back as soon as he got over how thoroughly he’d been had. Duff’s lips moved beside his ear, and his voice came out in a soft, satisfied whisper.
“It was for your own good, Saul.” There was a momentary flash of irritation, and Slash growled warningly. It was greeted with a soft laugh and a little squeeze, and as Duff shifted to get comfortable Slash caught the smell of cigarettes and shampoo.
And it occurred to him that really, he didn’t want to take it back at all.
