My Random Guns N' Roses One-shots

Izzy x Slash (no smut, but more spanking... and some figging ;p)

The clock above the fireplace read three-fifteen. Exactly three hours and forty-five minutes past the time Slash had to be home. Needless to say, Izzy was not letting him go out at night again for a very long time. Not that he didn't trust Duff and Steven to take care of his baby, but they were proving themselves very untrustworthy. The longer Slash took to get home, the longer Izzy had to get increasingly worried, and therefore the longer he had to get increasingly pissed off. He considered calling Duff again, but figured it would probably be useless. So instead he sat in his faded-green, corduroy chair, smoking a cigarette and staring at the front door. The ashtray already held the burned-out remains of the previous two cigarettes that he had smoked over the course of waiting for Slash to get home.

The front door opened almost silently, as though Slash figured that since all the lights in the house were turned off that Izzy must have gone to sleep and he would get away with staying out almost four hours past the curfew they had both agreed on. Izzy watched in calm silence as Slash carefully pulled off his pink vinyl Doc Martin's and set them on the bench next to the door, the only light coming from the burning end of Izzy's cigarette and the headlights of a car outside. Izzy hoped that car was a taxi and not Duff driving after a long night of drinking. He stubbed his cigarette out against the ashtray.

"You're late." Izzy's voice rang cold and hard throughout the living room and Slash's head snapped up. "Do you know what time it is?"

"No?" Slash didn't sound drunk, which was good, but then again, Izzy didn't really expect him too. For the most part, aside from the occasional fruity cocktail, Slash wasn't really that big on drinking or drugs. Unless you considered five to six juice boxes a day a drinking habit. Izzy was more angry at the fact that Slash was late.

"It's three twenty-eight. Do you remember what time you were supposed to be back?"

"Eleven thirty?" Slash peeped out, looking guilty.

Izzy stood up and pointed towards the stairs. "Go to our room and wait for me there. I hope I don't have to stress how badly you've disobeyed me tonight."

Slash scurried up the stairs. Izzy sighed, going into the kitchen and grabbing a paring knife and opening the fridge. He was pretty sure that the ginger he had bought two days ago was still in the vegetable drawer. It had been purchased with the intention of being used in stir-fry but he could just buy another hand of it later. Finding it, he followed Slash upstairs, bringing both the knife and the ginger with him. He also grabbed a wooden paddle from the hall closet. Izzy wondered what his mother would say about the fact that he kept a large collection of sex toys with his towels and bedsheets.

When he entered the bedroom, he found Slash sitting on the edge of the bed, fingers twisting at the corner of the fluffy, pink sweater-hoodie he was wearing. Izzy ignored him, going over to the desk and sitting down, placing the ginger, the knife, and the paddle down in a row before finally turning to look at Slash. Slash looked at the innocent hand of ginger, eyes widening in fear, then looked back at Izzy. Izzy almost felt bad, then he remembered that he had spent four hours worrying about Slash's safety and he no longer felt bad.

"You understand why I have to do this, right Saul?

"Yeah." Slash's fingers paused in their twisting at the corner of the hoodie, though his eyes remained downcast and pearly teeth began tugging nervously at his lower lip. He opened his mouth to add something, then seemed to think better of it and returned to twisting the hem of the fluffy sweater.

Sitting down at the desk while still keeping his gaze on Slash, Izzy began to peel and carve the ginger into roughly the shape of a butt-plug. It wasn't a piece of art by any means, Izzy was no artist, but then again it didn't really need to be. It just needed to be smooth on the outside and have a flared base so it wouldn't get stuck. Also, he needed to finish carving it before all the juice inside of the ginger leached into the air and ruined it.