Bandom One-shots book 3

Livin On A Prayer (Jon Bon Jovi x Duff McKagan)

Afterparty in LA, 1987

(Duff's POV)

I was leaning against the wall, beer in hand, cool as hell but feeling a little out of place.

Another afterparty in LA. Another night where the music was too loud, the room packed with people I didn't know or barely gave a shit about. A-listers, models, and wannabes floated around, chasing the high of being seen. Meanwhile, I was just... here.

I glanced across the room, watching Slash flirt with some girl while Axl was holding court with a group of people who hung on his every word. Typical.

And me? I was just... existing.

I shifted uncomfortably, feeling weirdly out of place despite being in the middle of everything. I was used to the chaos by now—hell, I thrived in it most of the time—but tonight? Tonight I just... didn't feel like I belonged.

I was about to slip out quietly when I felt it.

That feeling.

Like someone was watching me.

I looked up, and...

Oh, shit.

Jon Bon Jovi.

Fucking Jon Bon Jovi.

His eyes locked on mine from across the room, and that megawatt smile he was famous for spread across his face.

My heart? Gone.

Before I could process what was happening, he was already walking toward me, effortlessly weaving through the crowd like he owned the place.

"You look like you could use some company." His voice was smooth as silk, laced with that Jersey charm that could disarm anyone.

I tried to play it cool, but I knew I was blushing. Hard.

I smirked, covering up the nerves bubbling in my chest. "Depends... you got anything stronger than beer?"

Jon laughed, and damn, it was the kind of laugh that made you feel warm inside. "I think I can arrange that."

We hit it off instantly.

Talking about music, life, and everything in between. He was easy to talk to, and before I knew it, hours had passed, and I was actually enjoying myself.

What started as innocent flirting turned into something more.

We started sneaking around between tour dates. Meeting in hotel rooms, late-night rendezvous in places where no one would recognize us.

Because what would the world think if Jon Bon Jovi and Duff McKagan started dating?

It'd be a fucking field day.

But we didn't care. Not when it was just us.

Jon would fly out after shows just to spend a few hours with me, even if we were both exhausted. He always made time.

And then came the late-night phone calls.

When I was overwhelmed with life, with the chaos of the band, Jon's voice kept me grounded.

"You okay, baby?" Jon whispered through the phone one night when I was spiraling, feeling like I was drowning in everything.

I closed my eyes, holding the receiver like it was a lifeline. "Better now that I'm hearing you." My voice was barely above a whisper, but I knew he heard it.

And then... it wasn't just phone calls.

Jon was sitting on the hotel bed one night, acoustic guitar in hand, strumming softly.

"What's that?" I asked, my voice hoarse from the show.

Jon smiled, that soft, sweet smile that always made my knees weak. "Something I've been working on... for you."

My heart? Fucking melted.

He sang softly, words meant for me and only me. I tried so hard not to cry, but my eyes gave me away.

I was exhausted, lying on Jon's chest, feeling the steady rhythm of his heart as he softly hummed Bon Jovi ballads to me.

"You're safe here, Duff," he murmured, running his fingers through my hair.

And for the first time in a long time...

I believed it.

Then it turned into... living together.

We weren't officially living together, but whenever we weren't on the road, we were inseparable.

Jon's loft in New York became our safe haven.

"Mmm, smells good," I murmured, wrapping my arms around Jon from behind as he stood at the stove, flipping pancakes.

"You're the only thing that smells good around here, babe," Jon teased, that cheeky grin making me kiss the back of his neck.

Domestic bliss.

And I was terrified.

I could feel it getting too real.

And that scared the shit out of me.

Jon was too good for me. He deserved someone who wasn't... so fucked up.

I started pulling away.

"Duff... what's going on?" Jon asked one night after I bailed on a date we had planned. His eyes were full of concern, and it killed me.

"Nothing," I mumbled, avoiding his gaze.

But Jon wasn't stupid.

"Don't do this, Duff."

My throat tightened. "I'm just... not good for you, Jon."

Jon's jaw clenched, his eyes full of love and frustration.

"You don't get to decide what's best for me, Duff," he said softly but firmly, stepping closer. "I choose you. Always."

Cue emotional confession.

I couldn't hold it in anymore. Everything poured out—my fears, my insecurities, all of it.

Jon didn't flinch.

He just held me.

And I realized...

I didn't want to lose him.

Months later, Jon did something that broke me in the best way.

It was just us.

Quiet. Private.

"Duff?" Jon whispered, his voice soft and a little shaky.

I looked up from where I was sprawled on the couch, half-asleep.

Jon was kneeling in front of me.

My heart stopped.

"What... what are you doing?"

Jon's eyes were shining.

"I don't care about the fame, Duff. I don't care about any of that. I just... want you. Forever."

Tears. Instantly.

"You're crazy, Jon..." I whispered, trying to fight back the emotion clawing at my throat.

Jon smiled softly. "Crazy about you."

He slipped the ring on my finger, and my heart shattered.

After a show in some random city, when the crowd was gone and the stage was empty, Jon pulled me close.

"Dance with me."

"Here?" I raised an eyebrow, but Jon just smiled.

Soft music played from his phone.

I rested my forehead against Jon's, arms wrapped around each other.

"You still nervous about this, babe?" Jon murmured softly.

I smiled, my heart so fucking full.

"Not anymore."