My Random Guns N' Roses One-shots

Duff x Slash (not smut, sorry)

"Remind me again why we woke up at five-thirty in the morning to drive to the mountains, purposely go out in the freezing cold, strap metal planks to our feet, and slide down the face of a cliff?" Slash was not a morning person. Duff had woken him up at an ungodly hour- "why the fuck are we getting out of bed, it's still fucking dark out"- forced him to get dressed into a ridiculous amount of clothing- "how fucking cold can it be that you're making me wear three fucking layers of shirts"- dragged him out to the car- "holy shit, how the fuck did your car get so cold"- and was now taking him on a two hour long drive to go skiing. At least they had stopped to get Egg McMuffins from a McDonald's drive through. Putting up with this kinda shit on an empty stomach would have been too much.

"Because it's fun and we can't do this in California, now shut the fuck up and be happy." Duff was ridiculously excited about the whole thing. He was excited in the store where he had bought the skis, while the clerk did little more than stare in awe of the two rock-stars that had entered his store; he was excited when he had borrowed his brother's car and loaded it up with the ski equipment last night; and now he was excited when it was only a little past six in the morning, dark and raining outside. If the day had been up to Slash, they would be in a warm hotel room, with glasses of extremely alcoholic eggnog, watching shitty Christmas specials and laughing at them. But alas, he was in a car with a shitty heating system, humoring his overly enthusiastic boyfriend. He supposed it could be worse.

Duff really didn't understand why Slash was being such a party-pooper. Skiing was awesome. He had happy memories of skiing from his childhood, and he wanted to do that again with the person who made him happiest. Was that such a crime? The drive was shorter than usual, only taking about an hour and forty-five minutes, and the parking-lot was empty; Wednesdays were the best days to go skiing, no one was ever there. Thank god his brother's truck had four wheel drive, driving along the dark and icy mountain roads would have been hell otherwise.

Leaning behind his seat into the truck, he grabbed the bag he had stuffed the two pairs of ski boots into. Handing Slash his pair, he opened his car door, pulled off the pair of cowboy boots he had jammed on before getting in the car, and began the still annoying task of jamming his feet into ski boots. Yup, they were the same uncomfortable, stiff, plastic, heavy boots he remembered. They went great with the annoying ass ski gloves and unflattering snow-pants. It was totally worth it though.

"Open your door; I'll come around and help you get your boots on; we'll carry the skis and shit up past the main lodge and I'll get our lift passes." He went over to the passenger door, doing the awkward slide-walk that automatically went with ski boots, and opened it to reveal a still sleepy looking Slash, who handed Duff his pair of boots.

With some struggling- ski boots were a little on the heavy side- Duff got a boot upright on the ground with Slash's toes lined up with the opening. "Okay, now this part's kinda a pain. You're going to stand up, and jam your foot down into the boot, using your body-weight to help push it in. It's going to feel uncomfortable, that's just how ski boots are." Duff held Slash's waist as he attempted to push his foot into the uncomfortable ski equipment.

"'It's going to feel uncomfortable, that's just how ski boots are,'" Slash parroted, complaining. "How the hell is something uncomfortable supposed to be enjoyable?"

It took a total of five tries to get both ski boots on Slash's feet, but there was no breaking Duff's spirit. He was grinning the entire time, handing Slash his helmet, goggles, gloves, poles, and of course, skis, before grabbing his own shit and starting the long process of lugging ski equipment up the concrete stairs that lead to the main lodge, then across to the actual snow.

"Wait here, I'm going to go get our lift tickets. If you need to take a piss, now would be a great time, before we actually start skiing. I am not skiing all the way back to the lodge because you have to pee." As soon as Duff left, Slash dumped the ski shit on a table and went to find the bathroom. When he got back, Duff was still gone, so he sat down at the table where he had unceremoniously dumped their shit, and watched the few other skiers and snowboarders on the mountains. He could see how someone might enjoy this, though he was never going to admit that to Duff, he had picked to be a total Scrooge about skiing, he had to stay in fucking character.