Welcome to the Jungle, Sweetheart

Sweetheart

             Axl leaned over the pool table, finding the right angle to shoot the yellow striped number 9 ball. Once he positioned himself perfectly in the corner, he shot it straight into the pocket. Axl straightened back up and took another swig of his drink.

Axl saw out of the corner of his eye somebody set a liquor filled glass on the edge of the pool table. "Hey red, can I buy you a drink?"

Axl whipped around and eyed the stranger with suspicious, fiery eyes. He had longish dark brown hair that went to his neck, hazel eyes hidden behind dark, aviator sunglasses. He wore a light blue jean jacket over a graphic t-shirt, with tattered grey pants and leather combat boots on his feet.

Axl wanted to see if he liked flirting with guys, but now he had guys hitting on him? Holy fuck.

He did not like being treated in that way, he didn't feel at all flustered or any attraction to this guy. Especially when he said he wanted to buy him a drink. Like he was some whore that he could buy for the night.

Axl gave him a smoldering glare. The guy backed up, "Woah, don't burn a hole through me like that," he teased Axl's glare. Axl exhaled with flared nostrils and restrained himself from punching him. "Fuck off man, I'm no whore."

Axl turned his back to him and went back to his game. Axl held back a growl, almost feeling the weight of his eyes drifting up and down his body as he's looking at his ass.

He steps around the pool table to face Axl again, "Hey hey, woah sweetheart. Listen, I'm not tryin to buy ya, just get you a drink." 

Axl rolled his eyes leaning closer to find a good angle. Axl growled, shooting a blue striped ball, "Don't call me sweetheart."

He put his hands up in protest with a cheeky smile, "You got a problem with it sweetheart?" 

Axl stopped and narrowed his eyes at him, "Fuck yeah I do so shut your fucking trap and fuck off."

Axl scoffed under his breath, how long is this guy gonna be fucking pestering me until he gets the idea? Can't he tell how close I am to punching him in the nose and strangling him?

Axl wondered for a minute why he didn't beat him to death yet. He knew though he had some anger issues, and the situation probably wasn't as bad as his brain thought it was. So he figured he may as well at least try to cool off the situation, even though he was pretty furious. 

The guy sighed, "Alright alright, I'm sorry, that wasn't cool of me," he smirked, "I'll play you for it."

Axl set down his drink and raised an eyebrow in suspicion, "You'll play me for it?" 

He nodded with a grin, "Yeah, you win, I'll go, I win, I buy you a drink." Axl sighed. 

Fuck it. Game of pool, either get left alone, or free drinks. I'm done. 

"Y'know what? Fine. I'll play you."

Axl still didn't like how this guy talked to him like how guys talked to chicks. Calling him sweetheart, the teasing way he smiled at how he glared at him like he didn't take him seriously. At least when Slash teased him it was because he liked making fun of him, and he was just being silly, not because he was condescending or thought he was superior or thought Axl was his.

He wasn't a girl and he didn't want to be treated like one. 

He realized then how much it must really suck being a girl.

Were girls talked to like this all the time? Were they really treated like this all the time? He felt a pang of regret for how he talked to girls. But then he remembered that when he talked to girls like that they usually blushed and liked it. This guy thought by talking to him the same way he'd behave like a girl and get all red and shy. 

What a fucking jackass.

The guy shot number three, knocking a bunch of other balls into each other and scattering them across the table. "So what's your name red?" 

Axl growled, "Axl. And you can call me Axl instead of red or sweetheart." 

He grinned, "Oh? You don't like it do ya sweetheart?" Axl slammed down his pool stick on the edge of the table. 

"You call me that one more time and I'm walking out that fucking door right now."

He eyed at him teasingly, "You afraid of losing are you? Pussy?"

Axl snarled and grabbed him by his jean jacket collar, "Don't. Call me. A pussy. I'm fucking playing you aren't I? So just fucking drop it, 'kay?"

He nodded eagerly with that stupid smirk, and Axl knew there wasn't a single word coming out of his mouth that he was taking seriously.

Axl was about ready to beat the shit outta this guy.

Axl let go of his jacket with a glare. Axl picked up his pool stick again, "So what's your name then shithead?" 

He shrugged, "I like shithead just fine. But its Daniel." 

Axl nodded and rolled his eyes, "Your shot."

He leaned forward a little, and Axl, having not paid attention, watched as time slowed down and the 8-ball expertly rolled across the table. It seemingly had a mind of its own as it passed two other balls, and drifted into the pocket without knocking into a single one. And just like that, the game was over. Daniel won.

Axl sighed. Daniel smirked, "Alright red, whaddaya want from the bar?" Axl sighed, I guess if he's buyin, may as well go to town. 

Axl eyed at Daniel, "You do shots?" 

Daniel shrugged, "Sure."

Axl threw another shot to the back of his throat and felt the warm sting of the alcohol go down into his system. So many shots.

Another.

After another.

Then a few more.

He started to feel the buzz of intoxication in his head. But he was thinking clearly still. Just everything around him, he cared less about than he did before. Like Daniel, still really irritating, and the way he treated him made him feel nauseous at the bottom of his stomach, but he didn't show his caring as much.

Daniel on the other hand, was far beyond the point of buzz. Axl lived this lifestyle, he was well adapted to it, he was used to doing shots like this, he could go a lot longer without being hammered. Daniel, however, clearly, was not. 

His words were messier, his eyes weren't quite as open, but for the most part remained hidden behind his aviators, and he looked clumsier. "You're fun," he slurred with a slight giggle. Axl rolled his eyes resting his arms against the counter and laying his head down as the buzz started to feel more of a throb.

Axl closed his eyes but opened them again when he felt a hand on his leg.

Axl side-eyed Daniel, whose hand rested on his thigh. "What the fuck are you doing?" Daniel didn't seem to show any signs of answering his question. Axl's heart started to beat uncomfortably, and not in the same adrenaline rush he always had with Slash. 

"Shhh," Daniel mumbled, his hand creeping further up the inside of his leg.

Axl gritted his teeth, burying his eyes into his arms, "Stop..." he muttered dazedly.

He didn't, it just continued to get closer and closer until his hand was almost at his crotch. Axl squirmed with a grunt of unease, silently urging him to stop.

 Daniel shook his head, "Why would I," he hiccupped, "Would I stop when I know you want it too..?"

Daniel took his hand off him and stumbled off his stool, taking Axl's arm, "C'mon, I wanna get outta here."