Bandom One-shots book 3

Asshole (Sluff/Dash/Slash x Duff McKagan)

It's a quiet evening in the studio—well, mostly. The usual hum of chatter and guitars fills the room, but there's a certain kind of focus tonight, something in the air that feels different. Axl's pacing, deep in thought about something. And Slash? He's got that intense look in his eyes, completely absorbed in his guitar, fingers moving over the strings in that way that makes it seem effortless. It's always a little magic when he does that—like you can see the wheels turning in his head, the music coming together piece by piece.

And then, Axl does what he does best. He gets an idea, and suddenly, we're all in the middle of something bigger than we expected.

Slash's fingers are still moving, warming up the neck of his guitar. It's a gentle riff, soft but full of promise. And then Axl, without missing a beat, steps up and starts singing the first few lines of "Sweet Child O' Mine." His voice rings out, like it's always meant to be there.

At first, I just watch, a little smile tugging at my lips. It's Axl, always spontaneous, always jumping into things without warning. But then I catch Slash's reaction. His fingers freeze on the strings, a sharp jolt running through him as he looks up, eyes narrowing, clearly pissed.

"Goddamn it, Axl," Slash growls, standing up quickly, slamming the guitar down against the amp. His expression is hard, like he's trying to control the storm brewing in him. "You think this is some damn joke? You just start singing over me like that? You don't even—"

Axl opens his mouth to defend himself, but Slash cuts him off. The tension in the room is thick, thick enough that I can feel it in my chest. It's a full-blown argument now, words being thrown back and forth like daggers.

I'm standing there, watching the whole thing unfold, and my heart's racing. I know Axl and Slash both, and this isn't their first heated moment. But it's different this time. There's something else going on, something beneath the surface I can't quite put my finger on.

Before the fight can escalate further, I step in. I don't even think about it. I walk over to Slash, grabbing his arm gently but firmly, pulling him away from the heated exchange.

"Slash," I say, my voice low and calming, the kind of tone that's meant to reassure him more than anything. "Come with me, okay?"

He doesn't fight me, but I can see the frustration still written all over his face. We move to the side of the room, away from the others, and the moment we're alone, he looks at me, his expression softer but still tense. I can see the anger flickering in his eyes, but there's something else—vulnerability, maybe. And a little fear.

"Damn it, Duff," he mutters, raking a hand through his hair. "I don't know what the hell he was thinking."

"I know, babe," I say softly, stepping closer, placing my hands on his shoulders. "I know. But this... this is what we do, right? We push each other, we mess up sometimes. But it's gonna be okay. You're okay. I'm here."

Slash sighs deeply, looking down at the ground for a moment, his jaw clenched. I wait, giving him the space he needs to cool off. And after a long pause, he looks back up at me, his gaze softer now.

"I just... I don't want him to take over everything, you know? I need to be heard too, Duff."

I nod, my thumbs gently rubbing over his shoulders in slow circles, trying to ease some of the tension from his muscles. "I know, baby. You're heard. And you'll always be heard. Axl doesn't mean to step on your toes. He's just... he's just excited. But I get it, okay? You've got your own voice too. And I'll always be here to make sure you're heard."

He exhales, the anger starting to fade from his body, replaced with that familiar softness I know so well. It's that side of Slash that only a few people get to see—the one that trusts, the one that loves deeply, even when he's frustrated. And that's why I love him.

"I love you, Duff," he says, his voice quieter now, almost like a confession.

I smile, stepping closer to him, brushing a lock of hair from his face. "I love you too, baby."

And then, without saying another word, I pull him in. The kiss is slow at first, like we're both savoring the moment, feeling the softness of each other's lips. But it doesn't take long for it to deepen, for the passion that's always simmering beneath the surface between us to bubble up. It's everything—gentle and fierce, tender and raw all at once.

When we finally break apart, I rest my forehead against his, my breath still heavy from the kiss. "You're amazing, Slash," I whisper, my lips brushing his lightly. "You're my everything."

He smiles, a real smile this time, eyes soft as he looks at me. "You're my everything too, Duff."

We stay there for a few more moments, just holding each other, letting everything else fade away. The argument, the tension, the noise of the studio—it's all forgotten, because in this moment, it's just us.

~Asshole~