Bandom One-shots book 3

Don't Let The Sun Go Down On Me (Stuff)

~Duff McKagan POV~

The room feels suffocating, even though the windows are wide open, letting the stale air in. I'm sitting at the piano, fingers on the keys, but nothing feels right. I've been here for hours, just pressing one note over and over again. It's the only sound that doesn't feel like it's suffocating me. It's a fucking release in a world that's been choking me for weeks, months. But I can't get past it. The note keeps sounding, each repetition just reminding me of how much I'm stuck in this place, in this head of mine.

The guys have been distant lately. Steven—god, Steven's been on my mind more than I care to admit. We've drifted, but it's not like I don't feel the weight of it. It's always been complicated between us, and I don't know when it became this... thing. This rift that I can't seem to bridge.

I don't even know what I'm trying to do with the piano. I can't remember the last time I wrote something real. Hell, I can't even remember the last time I wanted to. The band's falling apart, and it feels like I'm just a shadow, clinging to the remains of what we used to be.

I keep pressing that same damn note. Again and again. It's so simple, but the sound cuts through me, sharp and endless. Dum, dum, dum. It's not music. It's just noise. It's a cry for something, for someone.

And then I hear him.

The door creaks, and I know exactly who it is before I even look up. His presence has always been like that—a pull I can't explain, something magnetic that drags me in no matter how far I try to push it away.

"Steven..." I whisper, even though I don't want to.

I don't stop playing. I can't stop. The sound is the only thing filling the void right now, the only thing that keeps me from falling into something darker. But I feel him standing there, watching me. I can almost feel the weight of his eyes on my back, his breath in the air.

"Why're you still playing that?" he says, his voice low but filled with something close to concern. But there's that edge, that distance.

I shrug. "Don't know. Can't seem to get past it."

I look over my shoulder, and there he is—just standing there, leaning against the doorframe like he's not sure if he's allowed to be here. His hair's a little messy, and his eyes are tired, like he's been running on empty too. I wonder if he's been thinking about the same shit I have. Wondering when everything went sideways, when it all became a war we couldn't win.

"I miss you," I say before I can stop myself. The words come out too raw, too easy, like I've been holding onto them longer than I thought.

Steven doesn't move. His eyes soften for a second, like he's hearing something he wasn't expecting. "I miss you too, man."

I keep playing. I don't even think about it anymore, just letting my fingers guide the notes through the quiet tension between us. The silence feels like it's about to swallow us both. I want to stop. I want to look at him. I want to reach out and do something. But I don't. I can't make myself move.

And then, he steps closer. I'm still playing, the note reverberating in the room, but it doesn't sound the same anymore. It doesn't hurt as much.

And then his hand is on mine, gently pushing the keys away from me, pulling my hand up, his fingers brushing mine. His touch is warm, familiar. I feel my heart skip in my chest.

I stop, but the silence is almost deafening now, like everything's frozen between us. His gaze never leaves mine.

And then, Steven leans down, his lips brushing against my ear. "I'm sorry, Duff. I fucked up. I was trying to figure myself out... trying to figure you out. I should've been there. I should've."

I don't know what I was expecting, but it wasn't that. He's always been the one who pulls away, the one who never says enough, never lets his guard down. But here he is, in front of me, the walls cracking, letting something real in.

I don't know what to say back to him. I don't know what to feel. But for the first time in a long time, I don't feel so fucking alone.

Before I can say anything, he's kissing me. It's not a demand, not something rushed. It's slow, careful, like he's not sure if he should, but he can't hold back anymore. I don't pull away. I don't want to. I kiss him back, slowly, like this is the first time we've really connected in forever.

When we pull away, Steven's face is close to mine, his breath shallow. He's looking at me like he's waiting for something—an answer, a response, or maybe just some kind of reassurance.

I lean in, forehead against his, and whisper, "We'll figure it out." It's all I can promise, all I know how to say.

For the first time in a long time, I feel like we're not broken anymore. Maybe a little bruised, a little scarred, but not broken.

I don't know where this is going, but for the first time, it feels like it's something worth finding out.

~Don't Let The Sun Go Down On Me~