Dream On

The "Buy Duff Some Earplugs" Charity

Please God just kill me thought Duff. Like seriously just hand me some arsenic to shallow. Or just pour some bleach into my eyes and get it over with.

Duff was currently sitting at the kitchen table in their apartment with Izzy and Steven. Steven was using some plates and cutlery as a drum kit, lost in his own world, seemingly unfazed by the events around him and Izzy appeared to share Duff's suicidal tendencies, if the hands wrapped around his neck in a chocking motion were anything to go by.

What about Axl and Slash you ask?

Oh they were the reason for Duff's and Izzy's current torture and suicidal mood. They were on their couch, Slash was laying down on his back, half naked, his shirt was tossed on the floor and his pants were pulled half way down his legs, while Axl was laying on top of him, licking and sucking on his cock like it was the tastiest damn thing on earth. They didn't seem to give a flying fuck that their other three bandmates were in the same room -their living room and kitchen were merged into one big room, open floor plan or some shit the owner had called it when they had first rented the place- as they continued fucking like wild rabbits. And really who knew that Slash could scream that high.

This whole scene had played out countless of times in the past two weeks since Axl and Slash had confessed their undying love for each other and Duff was ready to take one of Steven's forks and stab it into his eye.

Why didn't they just leave the apartment you ask? Well for starters it was their apartment as well but if that wasn't reason enough, they also had nowhere else to go. The tried to spend as much time as they could away from the apartment and the joyous couple but at the end of the day they needed somewhere to crash. Sure they stayed over at friends' and girls' houses a lot but there was a limited amount of times you could use the excuse "I need somewhere to sleep because the friends that I share the apartment with are fucking in the living room". Because also God forbid they use one their rooms, no they had to do it on their precious couch. And even when the other three were in their own rooms and they managed to escape the graphic images, there was no way of escaping the constant whimpering -yes Axl indeed whimpered when he begged for Slash to "please just fuck him with his big fat cock", Axl's words not Duff's- moaning and screaming.

Axl and Slash surely didn't seem to mind the audience -kinky bastards- and they sure as hell didn't seem to care that they had left their friends practically homeless.

Duff was idly beginning to wonder if it would just be better if things had just remained the same, if Axl hadn't confessed his feelings. That would for sure have saved his brain from a lot of scarring images.

But also his best friends wouldn't be as happy as they are now and that was a good enough reason for Duff to put up with the constant moaning. Because after the sex, and trust Duff there was a lot of it, came the moments where Slash and Axl would just be. They were kind of like they were before, they would simply stay up and talk for hours and they would whisper sweet things to each other and they would write songs together with amazing lyrics and incredible melodies. Their unbreakable connection and friendship was still there but in those past few weeks in had matured, it had grown into so much more, into something deeper. Now there was nothing holding them back, they were completely open with each other, they were their truest selves, they were one. And all this newfound feeling of mutual love showed in their eyes, which had found a sparkle that Duff thought existed only in fairytales and above his annoyance and moodiness he was beyond happy for his friends and truly hoped and wished that they would always be this happy and in love.

But seriously though for the love of God could someone just go buy him some earplugs.