Welcome to the Jungle, Sweetheart

No Homo

            After Axl had fallen asleep, Slash had to carry him bridal style to his own bedroom. Carrying him down the hallway his legs would sometimes kick and he'd giggle. Then he would sing a made up little song where he'd dreamily ramble, "Slash's little biiiitch...He's stuuuck with meeee...Cuz I'm his biiiiitch...Hahahaaa suckahh..." 

Izzy poked his head out the door of his room, hearing the noise, and he eyed at Slash suspiciously with an amused smirk on his face. 

Once he was in Axl's room and he dropped the goofy bundle onto his bed, Slash then woke up the drunk and half asleep Axl to ask him what he wanted to sleep in. 

The Axl then in return giggled, told Slash he was pretty, made out with Slash for another few seconds, to which Slash was confused but Axl was sleepy enough to break it off himself, and he rolled over sleepily and mumble-requested some drunk Axl gibberish words that roughly sounded, "Mphs...Fuck...Eirsmth shff...Shr.." which Slash loosely translated as Slash's Aerosmith shirt from his closet that had been missing for about a week, and he didn't get the last bit but he asked him if he wanted his white spandex shorts and he went, "Mph.." and nodded. 

It was at this time that Slash was thinking drunk Axl was fun. He had no inhibitions whatsoever, and he said and did literally everything that came through his mind, even if they weren't actual words. 

The following morning, Axl slept until it was no longer classified as morning. Everybody had eaten lunch, and it was almost three o' clock in the afternoon. He stumbled out of his room with no recollection whatsoever of last night, and a major headache. He then grumbled some swear words at everybody who crossed his path, nearly punched Steven in the face, and took about five aspirin. Or was it six? He wasn't sure, he just kind of kept popping more in his mouth until his head didn't hurt anymore. 

So when he woke up that morning in his own room, in different clothes, he figured that some time last night he just came home, got changed, and went to sleep. And nobody mentioned anything. 

Slash was the only one who really knew everything that happened, and Izzy was the only other one who had witnessed Slash having to carry Axl to his room. But Izzy just figured Axl stumbled into Slash's room, in his drunkenness thinking it was his, and Slash had to carry him out because he was too drunk to walk and he felt like singing a goofy song. 

Neither him or Slash said anything about last night, Slash was thinking about it, but ultimately he thought it would be better for Axl's sensitivity and his pride to not tell him. However, Izzy sometimes walked past him whistling his little song. Axl didn't even recognize it though, and thought Izzy just had some Thin Lizzy stuck in his head.

"Hey Slasher?" Slash didn't shift his focus, just gave a grunt of acknowledgement to show he heard Steven. Steven peered over the couch, "Why are you watching a paused tv? Indiana Jones isn't as cool when stuck like this-" He stepped around the couch to pose like Indiana was on the tv, holding his invisible whip like he was about to swing over a cliff edge.

Slash rolled his eyes, "I'm drawing, fuckhead."

Steven returned to motion again and loomed over him, looking past his shoulder at his notebook. "Oh hey that's pretty cool." Slash muttered his thanks but didn't cast him so much as a glance from his page, his whole attention fixed on it. Steven wandered back off to somewhere.

Then Slash felt somebody flop onto the couch next to him but he didn't bother lifting his gaze. "Hey baby," Axl purred, wrapping his arm around Slash's shoulder and climbing into his lap. 

"Somebody's feeling better," Slash remarked, never lifting his eyes. 

Axl nodded with a dorky grin, "Yeah well, I'm probably two pills away from being high," he said, playfully biting Slash's ear.