My Random Guns N' Roses One-shots

Duff x Steven (fluffy)

"Hey Popcorn, how many chocolates can you fit in your mouth?" It was the day after Valentine's Day, and Duff and Steven had gone and bought four grocery bags full of half-priced chocolates and other assorted Valentine's themed candy. Duff had also brought out his stash of alcohol, and the two friends were now moderately intoxicated, sitting in Steven's bedroom surrounded by half-empty boxes of sweets. The afternoon sun was shining through the single grimy window, casting warm light across the thin, beige carpet, painting the dirty gray walls with broad stripes of light. Duff's legs were stretched out in front of him, acting as a table for the twelve empty conversation hearts boxes he had devoured. They still tasted like flavored chalk, but they were sweet, and someone would have to eat them eventually. He took another swig of vodka to cleanse his palate before grabbing one of the unopened boxes of Whitman's chocolate, tossing a second one at Steven's head.

He was more intoxicated than he thought and missed his target wildly, laughing as Steven made a dive for the airborne chocolates, catching them before they hit the floor and all broke. The blond held up the box triumphantly, grinning, and began stuffing the chocolates into his mouth, counting them out as he shoved them into his face. "One. Two. Three. Mmpf, four. Five. Six. Se-" Candy threatened to spill out of Steven's mouth, and the blond gracefully shoved it all back in. "Seven. Eight." The more chocolate the blond put into his mouth, the worse his pronunciation of the numbers became. "'Ine. 'En. E'efen. 'Welfe." At thirteen, they all came spilling out, much to Steven's disgruntlement. Giggling like mad, Duff began to stuff his own face with the sweets.

Duff only made it to eleven, which filled Steven with a petty, childish pride. He rose up from his seat on his bed, which was really just an old twin sized mattress on the floor, and using a blanket as a cape, began dancing around the room, boasting of his abilities to fit large objects in his mouth, which they both found hilarious. "I CAN FIT MORE CHOCOLATE IN MY MOUTH THAN DUFFY CAN! I CAN FIT MORE CHOCOLATE IN MY MOUTH THAN DUFFY CAN! I AM THE CHOCOLATE EATING KING! I CAN FIT MORE CHOCOLATE IN MY MOUTH THAN DUFFY CAN!" Duff curled up into a shaking ball of hysterical laughter, empty chocolate wrappers falling from his lap. The shorter blond spun around, blanket cape flowing out behind him. "I CAN FIT MORE CHOCOLATE IN MY MOUTH THAN DUFFY CAN!" Steven lost his balance and stumbled into the wall, snickering like an idiot. Duff found the blond's antics hilarious.

Steven righted himself from his drunken loss of balance and waltzed over towards his friend, plopping down in front of the bass player, staring up at him through the blond hair that had fallen into his face. Duff looked back at him grinning and dumped an entire box of conversation hearts into his mouth. "Duffy..." Steven whined, staring at the pile of empty chocolate wrappers. "Save some candy for me..."

"You want candy?" Duff asked, eating another chocolate, grinning at the burst of cream in the middle, and held up what he thought was a caramel. "Then you're gonna have'ta come and get it, Stevie." The blond giggled at the nickname, and leaned forward, opening his mouth. Duff fed him the candy, but not before smearing it across his face, neither of them able to accurately determine where his mouth was in relation to the chocolate due to intoxication.

"Shotgun?" asked Duff, retrieving two cans of beer and a corkscrew, which he used to poke a hole near the bottom of both cans, handing one to his friend. Steven held the can up to his mouth, using his lips to seal over the hole Duff had created to prevent any of the beer from spilling out. When the other blond nodded, he popped up the tab, letting air begin flowing into the can, sucking hard as beer began flowing rapidly into his mouth.

Laughing as some of it ran down his chin, Steven finished the beer, chucking the empty can at the wall. Giggling, he blinked rapidly in an attempt to bring the two Duffs sitting in front of him into focus; fuck, how drunk was he? Gazing at his friend, the hyperactive drummer was struck with an idea, which made him laugh harder. "Lemme braid your hair..."