Sweet Agony (Slaxl)

IV

Slash's POV:

I woke up in the middle of the night still tangled up in Axl. I breathed a sigh of relief when I found this. He was safe, right in my arms. Axl wiggled a lot in his sleep, and he spoke too. Not complete sentences, but little whispers and mutters that I could understand. He said my name a lot in his sleep. I'd found this out about a year ago, and after three months of listening to it, I pretty much figured that I was feeling a romantic attraction to him. Of course, neither of these things I'd told Axl himself. For starters, he'd never let us share a hotel room again if he knew I was watching him sleep and getting pleasure from it. And of course there was the obvious one. He'd openly denounced gay people from lousy past experiences he'd had with them. I didn't blame him, they were both traumatic. It still burned me up inside to hear it though, but I never told him that it got to me. After he figured out that I had small homosexual tendencies, whether or not they were towards him is irrelevant, he lightened up on the insults a little bit.

Every night for the last year though, I'd opened his curtain to check up on him, listening to him talk about me in his sleep. Sometimes he would just call me quietly, and sometimes he would go on these long conversations with me. In his sleep, he was gay for me. Another contributing factor as to why I could never tell him about it. 

Axl started to mutter in his sleep. "Oh, Slash," He sighed, sounding a little bit happy. "So warm....Fever....I'll be your doctor, baby." He smiled lightly, even in his sleep. I never got to see this when he was awake, so I reveled in the moment. There was something poetic about it. I closed my eyes, trying to force myself to fall back asleep.

I woke up again when Axl was squirming away from me. The sun was shining through the thin curtains of the hotel, blinding me momentarily. Axl shivered as he sat up, ready to go on about his day. "Did we sleep like that all night?" He asked me, looking at me. I groaned and put my hair over my face, wanting to avoid answering the question. "Answer me, Slash. Did we sleep like that all night?" His tone wasn't irritated, which did surprise me a little bit. He wasn't angry that I'd cuddled him all night long? I sat up, barely able to open my eyes. It was far too early to wake up. 

"I'm pretty sure," I shrugged casually. If I played it off like this wasn't a big deal, he might not believe that it was a big deal to me. This was the largest deal to me. If anything, this made me want to go out with Axl more. "You told me that you were cold. Are you still cold now?" I looked him up and down, noting the goose flesh on his arms. The little bumps over his pale, lightly tattooed skin that showed the truth, no matter what he tried to tell me instead. 

"A little. You're right, I shouldn't have been out in the cold rain." I was taken aback. Had something in his mind changed overnight? Since when did he ever give a damn about his health? If anything, the fact that he was so cold should make him feel alive. He would love to feel dead, which is irony for you. I wanted to ask him about it, but I was afraid that he might go back to the way that he had been. He sniffed, wiping his nose with his hand. I reached over to the nightstand on the other side of me, grabbing him a tissue and handing to him. He gave me a strange look. "I hate it when you take care of me."

"You're sick. I like taking care of you." 

Axl pointed to the dark circles under my eyes, moving his finger along the direction that they went. "It seems to be taking a lot out of you." He sounded like Duff. "Or do you have other motivations?"

"Doesn't everyone?" I tried to make the question sound nonchalant, but it probably came across as defensive. 

Axl rolled his eyes. "You've got me there," He sighed. He brought his knees up to his stomach, resting his chin on them. The position made him look vulnerable, and I felt like my heart was ready to jump out of my chest at it. "What are  your other motives though?" The way he looked at me made me believe that he already knew the answer, but he just wanted for me to say it out loud. I hated it deeply when people did this. 

"You're my best friend," I said, regretting it. I wanted desperately to get out of the friend zone, despite the fact that I'd accepted it was never going to happen a very long time ago. "And I'd like you to stay my living best friend, if that's alright with you."

"Oh, you're being ridiculous," He waved his hand dismissively. "I'm not that suicidal." My mouth dropped open, and he cringed. "Maybe I've been worse than I thought," He admitted, nodding his head a little bit as he thought about it. "Did you say seventeen?"

I nodded slowly. "Yes, I know it's been seventeen. You were laughing maniacally last night and scaring the shit outta me, too." The last note was unnecessary, I didn't want to have him committed, but he had been worrying me a lot lately. He cringed again. "But I don't think that it's that bad. That's why you keep me around, right? To protect you."

Axl looked a little sad. "It shouldn't be your job." He shook his head. "Why am I talking about all of this mushy stuff? I've gotta be sleep deprived." He laid back down, looking at me. His eyes begged me to hold him again, but I wasn't in the mood anymore. Now I was panicked again, on full alert. Gone was the man desperate for a relationship with his best friend, and it should stay that way.

Forever.