Bandom One-shots book 3

No One Can Know (VinAxl)

I wasn't supposed to be here.

I wasn't supposed to be sneaking out the back door of The Whiskey at one in the morning, pulling my leather jacket over my head like some guilty bastard on the run.

I wasn't supposed to be slipping into an alley where he was waiting for me, arms crossed, foot tapping against the pavement like he was already impatient.

"Took you long enough," Axl muttered, but the moment I stepped close enough, he grabbed me by the collar and yanked me in for a kiss.

It was desperate. Needy.

And I melted into it, like I always fucking did.

I should've pulled away. Reminded him that we were playing with fire, that if anyone saw us like this, we were done for. The press would eat us alive, our bands would fall apart, and the whole world would know that Vince Neil and Axl Rose—the two frontmen who were supposed to hate each other—were actually tangled up in each other like a couple of lovesick idiots.

But instead, I just clung to him.

"Missed you," I breathed against his lips.

Axl let out a soft chuckle, his hands still fisted in my jacket. "You saw me two nights ago."

"Still missed you."

His fingers slid up, tracing my jaw, tilting my head just enough to kiss me again—slower this time. More careful. Like he was trying to make up for lost time.

God, I wanted this. I wanted him.

But then—

"Vince? You out here?"

We broke apart instantly.

Shit. That was Tommy.

Axl was already moving, disappearing further into the shadows while I forced myself to breathe and step out of the alley like I hadn't just been making out with the enemy.

Tommy spotted me and grinned. "Dude, what the hell? We're heading to another bar. You coming?"

I forced a smirk, slinging an arm around him like everything was normal. "Yeah, man. Let's go."

But as I walked away, I could still feel Axl's kiss on my lips.

And I already knew—I'd be sneaking out to see him again the second I got the chance.

Because this wasn't just a fling. It wasn't just a dirty secret.

It was us.

And no matter how dangerous it was—I wasn't giving it up.

Weeks Later

The more we snuck around, the harder it got.

Hiding our relationship wasn't just exhausting—it was dangerous.

There were so many close calls. Like that one time Izzy had almost caught Axl sneaking into my dressing room before a show. Or when Nikki had made a comment about how I always seemed to disappear in the middle of the night.

But the worst?

The worst was when Axl and I got careless.

It was after a show. The energy was still buzzing in my veins, my ears were ringing, and my hands were still shaking from the high of being on stage. I didn't even think—I just grabbed Axl by the hand and dragged him into an empty hallway at the venue, pressing him against the wall and kissing him like I needed him.

Because I fucking did.

"Vince—" Axl tried to say something, but I just kissed him harder, tangling my fingers in his hair, pulling him close, feeling the way his body melted against mine.

And then—

"What the fuck?!"

We ripped apart.

Standing at the end of the hallway, eyes wide with shock, was Duff McKagan.

My stomach dropped. Axl went dead silent.

None of us moved. The air felt like it had been sucked out of the room.

Duff looked between us, his brain obviously trying to process what the hell he had just walked in on.

And then—without another word—he turned and walked away.

Axl cursed under his breath, running a hand through his hair. "Shit. Shit, shit, shit."

I swallowed hard, trying to think. "Maybe he won't—"

"He's gonna fucking tell them, Vince," Axl cut me off, looking at me with something almost like panic.

For the first time since this whole thing started, I actually thought—maybe this was it.

Maybe we were really about to get caught.

But instead of freaking out, instead of backing away—Axl reached for my hand.

Not in the desperate, secretive way we always did.

But like he didn't care anymore.

Like he was tired of pretending.

"I don't wanna hide this anymore," he said, voice raw.

My chest tightened.

I didn't either.

But if we did this—if we really stopped hiding—there was no going back.

It wasn't just about us anymore. It was about the band. The press. The fans.

The world.

I stared at him, at the way his fingers curled around mine, at the way his eyes dared me to make a choice.

And for the first time in my life—I didn't know what to do.

~No One Can Know~