Bandom One-shots book 3

A Night In Transit ! Part Two !

The music video playing on the TV was one of those glossy productions, all flashing lights and dramatic poses. Slash snorted at the over-the-top theatrics, shaking his head as he crushed his cigarette into the ashtray on the nightstand.

"Think we'll ever end up like that?" he asked, gesturing at the screen.

"What, prancing around in leather pants and acting like gods?" I smirked. "Too late, man. We're already halfway there."

Slash laughed, his hair falling into his face. "Yeah, but at least we mean it. You think they really believe the shit they're singing about?"

"Doubt it," I said, leaning back against the headboard. "But who cares? As long as people eat it up, right?"

Before Slash could respond, a loud knock interrupted the moment.

"Finally," he muttered, getting up to answer it.

Steven burst in like a whirlwind, all energy and chaos, with Duff trailing behind him. Steven was halfway through a story, gesturing wildly with one hand while clutching a bottle of Jack Daniels in the other.

"...and then the guy looks at me like I'm the crazy one! I mean, come on, it's not like I was gonna steal his damn dog!" Steven's words tumbled out in a rush, his grin wide and infectious.

Duff leaned against the doorframe, a fond smile tugging at his lips as he watched Steven bounce around. "I leave him alone for five minutes, and he's already causing trouble."

"What else is new?" Slash said, smirking as he stepped aside to let them in.

Steven flopped onto my bed, his boots dangling off the edge. "You guys ready or what? The bar's not gonna wait for us to show up and make it interesting."

"Define 'ready,'" I said, giving him a once-over. "You look like you've been through a tornado."

Steven laughed, unbothered. "This is rock 'n' roll, man. Tornado chic is in."

Duff shook his head, walking over to the window and peeking out. "Izzy's meeting us there, by the way. He said he needed a minute to finish... whatever it is he does."

"Let me guess," Slash said, smirking. "Staring at the ceiling while pretending not to care about anything?"

"Pretty much," Duff said, grinning.

I noticed the way Duff's face softened when he said Izzy's name, like he couldn't help it. Subtle, but there. I wasn't the only one who caught it either—Steven did a double take, leaning closer to Duff with a knowing smirk.

"Aw, did you go check on your boyfriend before you came to get us?" Steven teased, his voice lilting with mock sweetness.

Duff swatted at him, laughing. "Shut up, Adler. At least I don't make out with everyone who smiles at me."

Steven gasped in exaggerated offense, clutching his chest. "Excuse me, Mr. McKagan, but if someone's nice enough to smile, who am I to deny them a little love?"

Slash rolled his eyes, already halfway to the door. "We'll never get out of here if you two don't shut up. Let's go."

We grabbed our jackets, and Steven practically dragged Duff out the door, the bottle of Jack still in his hand. Slash walked beside me, his pace slow and easy, our shoulders brushing every so often.

"Think this night's gonna end in another Steven disaster?" he asked, glancing sideways at me.

"Probably," I said. "But at least it'll be entertaining."

The bar was dimly lit and crowded, the air heavy with smoke and music. We found a booth in the corner, Steven sliding in first and immediately flagging down a waitress.

"Where's Izzy?" Slash asked, scanning the room.

"Over there," Duff said, nodding toward a shadowy figure by the jukebox.

Izzy stood with his hands shoved in his jacket pockets, his eyes scanning the song selections like he was picking out a soundtrack for the night. Duff didn't hesitate—he slid out of the booth and made his way over, the tension in his shoulders easing as he got closer.

Slash leaned back in the booth, lighting another cigarette. "They're like magnets," he muttered, watching Duff stop beside Izzy and whisper something that made Izzy smirk.

"They try to act subtle," I said, shaking my head. "But they're not fooling anyone."

Duff and Izzy returned a few minutes later, sliding into the booth with us. Izzy ended up next to Duff, their knees brushing under the table. Slash had scooted closer to me, his arm stretched casually along the back of the seat.

Steven came back with a tray of shots, grinning like he'd won the lottery. "Alright, drink up! We've got a whole night ahead of us."

"Don't let him go too hard," Duff said to me, though his tone was more amused than serious.

"Yeah, yeah," I said, grabbing a shot glass. "You just focus on keeping Izzy out of trouble."

Duff chuckled, but the way he rested his hand on Izzy's thigh under the table didn't go unnoticed. Izzy shot him a sideways glance, the faintest hint of a smile tugging at his lips.

As the night wore on, the booze flowed freely, and the laughter got louder. At some point, Steven was halfway through telling an increasingly wild story when Slash leaned closer to me, his breath warm against my ear.

"Let's get out of here for a bit," he said, his voice low.

I raised an eyebrow but didn't argue. We slipped out of the booth, leaving the others mid-chaos, and found our way to a quieter part of the bar.

"What's up?" I asked, leaning against the wall.

Slash shrugged, his cigarette dangling from his lips. "Nothing. Just wanted a minute alone."

There was something in his tone, soft but sure, that made my chest tighten. I reached over, plucking the cigarette from his lips and taking a drag myself.

"You could've just said that," I said, smirking.

He grinned, leaning closer until there was barely any space between us. "You would've laughed at me."

"Maybe," I said, blowing smoke between us. "But I'd still follow you."

He didn't say anything, just leaned in and pressed his lips to mine, the taste of whiskey and smoke lingering between us. It was quick, but it was enough to set my blood humming.

Back at the booth, Duff was leaned into Izzy's side, his arm slung casually around him like it belonged there. Steven, oblivious, was trying to arm-wrestle the waitress, while the rest of us just soaked in the chaos—the kind we wouldn't trade for anything.  

~A Night In Transit ! Part Two ! ~

~Should I make a part three?~