Izzy blamed the weather. It was the middle of summer and too fucking hot to do anything but stay inside the Hell House and get stoned. Well, it wasn’t exactly like it was any less hot in the Hell House. They could barely afford food and beds, let alone air conditioning. At least it was sheltered. It was too early in the morning to do anything anyway, and Izzy wondered where the rest of the band were. It wasn’t what you call ‘morning’ either—the time being just past 2pm—but Izzy had only woken up an hour earlier so it was still morning to him, and as far as music and partying and sabotaging other bands’ flyers was concerned, nothing got done before dark anyway.
He had been fiddling with his guitar just a few minutes ago, but inspiration didn’t come that early in the day, nor was it particularly fruitful as the only other member of the recently formed Guns N’ Roses was sitting in a corner and ignoring him, so Izzy decided to roll a joint instead.
“You want some?” he said to Axl, who was sitting on a mattress in a pair of boxer shorts, scribbling in a notebook.
“No,” he said, without looking up.
“Suit yourself,” Izzy said, and took a few puffs. He had thought that he might entice Axl, but he seemed stuck into his scribbling. “Whatcha doin’?” Izzy asked a few minutes later.
“Can’t you see?”
“Um,” Izzy drawled, “drawing a comic? Compiling a shopping list? Writing out your will? Sketching a portrait of me?”
“Shut up. Leave me alone,” Axl said. It wasn’t in a malicious or angry way, he was just busy and wanted to be alone with his muse—whatever it was.
Izzy shrugged, lay back on his bed and took a few puffs, keeping his eyes on the hunched-over figure opposite him. He wasn’t too far. In fact, if Izzy stretched a little he was sure he’d be able to kick him. Not that he particularly wanted to, but he could, and now he began wondering what would happen if he did. Axl would probably throw something at him or attack him with his bare hands, and that’d be about it. It wasn’t the most far-out “what if…” idea Izzy had had. He thought about these kinds of things often, like when he was on a bus or walking down the street. Generally anytime he was around people he’d contemplate what would happen if he did something totally unexpected, like pull the hair of the random person who stood in front of him in a shopping line, or lick a passenger next to him on the bus. Again, they weren’t things that he really wanted to do, but he was curious about how people would react, and he wondered how it was that curiosity never seemed to get the best of other people either. It wasn’t only curiosity, but urges too. There were many times when he’d want to scream or start singing show-tunes in public, yet he never did, and he wondered what stopped him—and others who, Izzy was sure, would’ve had the same desire at some point. There was that whole ‘social etiquette’ and being ‘civilized’ thing, sure, but who was to judge that, really?
And so he wondered about Axl. No, he didn’t want to kick him. He had other ideas.
There was Axl, sitting there almost naked, with just a small pair of boxer shorts covering him. Izzy wondered what would happen if he was to get up and sit next to him, right up close, without saying anything. What would Axl do if Izzy put a hand on his bare thigh? Or if he just leaned over and kissed him? He’d probably flip the fuck out, that’s what he’d do, but this was Izzy… they’d known each other for years, so Axl couldn’t just punch him and walk out, could he? Well, he could and he probably would, but he’d have to come back sometime, and then what would he do? It would be so easy to do something like that, Izzy thought, so what was stopping him?
Izzy put the joint aside and took a few sips from a near-empty bottle of wine which had been sitting by his bed for God knows how long. Then he took out a cigarette and settled down to stare at Axl.
Axl…
Izzy had never really stopped to consider his sexuality. The way he saw it, he had the right to fuck—or at least want to fuck—anyone he pleased, regardless of age, race, or gender. It was so simple, and Izzy never quite understood the fuss people made about putting themselves in these categories – straight, gay, bisexual. What the fuck ever, he thought. Everyone’s human, and if they’re nice to look at, then looked at they shall be. And if they feel good to the touch, then touched they shall be.
It was only recently that Izzy had realized that he wanted to touch Axl in a way which may be considered more than friendly. More than friendly? Shit, that’s what friends were for. Izzy had fooled around with plenty of his friends – both male and female, and he never thought twice about it, not before and not after. The body wants what it wants, and that’s all it is. Of course not everybody could appreciate the simplicity of his outlook on sex. But fuck them, it was their loss. They could confine themselves all they fucking wanted. Izzy didn’t care, he just wondered what Axl would think of it…
He stared for a long time at Axl. He had his head bowed, concentrating on his task, and his hair—which was still jacked up by all sorts of hairspray from the night before—obscured his face. The muscles in his left arm were tense as he wrote, and when he’d stop he wouldn’t look up, only tap the pen on the pad of paper and occasionally blow his hair out of his eyes. Izzy was curious about what he was so feverishly composing. He was also curious about why Axl wasn’t noticing that Izzy was blatantly staring at him from just a couple of meters away. He had always thought that people could sense when they were being looked at, especially in an atmosphere like this, with only the two of them in such close quarters.
Izzy decided to change position. He grabbed his pillow and tossed it to the opposite side of the bed, then clambered over, a cigarette still hanging out of his mouth, and resumed admiring his friend from a closer distance.
Axl still wasn’t noticing. Oh well. Izzy didn’t really care. He had wanted to test how Axl might react to the admiration, but that wasn’t something he had to do immediately. For the time being, Izzy was content in just doing the admiring.
Suddenly Axl stopped writing, pursed his lips and it looked like he had stopped breathing altogether. He stretched out his bare legs, then looked at Izzy through a fringe of red hair.
“What are you doing?” he said.
Izzy smiled. It wasn’t because Axl was finally responding to his plan, but just because he had finally put aside the notepad and was engaging him.
“Looking at you,” Izzy said evenly.
Axl furrowed his brows. “Yeah, I can see that.”
“Well, what’re you asking for then?”
Axl seemed genuinely perplexed. “Well… you’re just sittin’ there… fuckin’ staring at me. It’s weird.”
“You don’t like it?”
“No, man, why would I like it?”
Izzy perked up now and sat up, leaning back against the wall. “I dunno,” he said. “But why don’t you like it?”
“Because it’s fucking weird for you to just lie there and look at me like I’m a goddamn TV.”
“Well yeah, I got that you think it’s weird, but why don’t you like it? You like a lot of weird shit.” Izzy was speaking very matter-of-factly, and Axl was growing more and more confused. “Besides, you’re nice to look at, so why shouldn’t I look?”
“What?” Axl said flatly.
Izzy rolled his eyes. “Handsome. Pretty. You know, easy on the eyes. And don’t act like you don’t know it, you know you’re good looking.”
Axl was at a loss for words, so Izzy offered him a cigarette and he took it nervously.
“You should lay off the fucking pot, Stradlin.”
“It’s not the pot. Look, the fact is that I like looking at you and that’s what I’m going to do. And if you don’t like it, tough fuckin’ cookies. You can leave if you want.”
“I’m not gonna leave my own fucking house just because you’re temporarily insane and wanna sit there and glare at me! Fuck you!”
“Okay,” Izzy shrugged. “Get back to work then.”
Axl gaped at him for a few seconds. “You’re nuts,” he said at last. “I’ll get back to work as soon as I finish my cigarette. And don’t tell me what to do!”
“Okay,” Izzy said, fighting back a grin. This was turning out better than he had hoped. Izzy had almost convinced himself that Axl would deck him for calling him pretty, but the way his lips were twitching suggested that Axl was enjoying the attention to some degree, though he was clearly quite disturbed and confused by it coming so suddenly, and from Izzy of all people.
Axl turned to staring into space, trying to avoid Izzy, but it was obvious that he was still conscious of the fact that Izzy was still looking at him.
“Stop it!” he growled.
“Why?”
“Because it’s weird!”
“It’s not weird. You stare at girls all the time. And why? ‘Cause they’re nice to look at—well, some of ‘em, at least. I think you’re nice to look at, so I’m looking at you. It’s not that hard to grasp, and it’s not a bad thing, you know.”
Axl’s eyes blazed with a comical sort of fury for a second, then he said, “Fine! I’ll sit here and glare at you then! See how you fuckin’ like it.”
Izzy couldn’t hold in his laugh. So, it had come down to a staring contest. Interesting twist, he thought.
“Fine by me!” Izzy said merrily.
Axl was outraged, but he made himself comfortable and leaned against the wall to prepare for the contest. Anything to prove a point.
Izzy snickered. “So are we allowed to talk and blink?”
“Yes, asshole. It’s not a staring contest—it’s a… fuck you!”
Izzy had stubbed out his cigarette and lit another one. This was going to be fun. Amusing, at least.
They stared at each other for almost a minute without talking, but Izzy, watching Axl quietly seething, was having a problem controlling himself from bursting out with laughter. Not that he wasn’t allowed to laugh, but he didn’t want Axl thinking that this was all a joke. Well, the staring contest was something of a farce, but he wanted Axl to know that he was serious when he said that there was nothing weird about admiring somebody’s beauty.
“We’re friends, right,” Izzy said. “We’re comfortable enough with each other that I don’t have to sneak peeks at you if I wanna look at you.”
“Yeah, but why the fuck would you wanna look at me?”
“You really are thick sometimes, aren’t you. I don’t believe you’re that thick, Axl. I think you’re just playing coy.”
“This staring thing isn’t working right if we’re talking. I mean, it’s not weird if I’m looking at you while I’m talking to you.”
Izzy smirked. “So what, you want me to take off my clothes and sprawl out on the bed so you can stare at me and try to make me feel awkward? It ain’t gonna work, buddy, ‘cause I don’t find it weird.”
Axl puckered his lips and nodded slowly and condescendingly. “Do it then,” he said daringly. “Then we’ll see.”
Izzy couldn’t believe his ears. “What?”
“I said do it. Get naked, lie on the bed and I’ll sit here and stare at you and prove that it is weird. What’re ya, chicken?”
Izzy stared dumbly at his over-confident friend. He couldn’t believe it. That little bastard must’ve been planning it all along, Izzy thought. The command was too absurd to be just a dare to prove a point. Axl wanted to see him naked. That had to be it! That conniving little scoundrel…
“Oh, I’m no fuckin’ chicken!”
Izzy leapt to his feet, stuck the cigarette between his teeth and pulled off his t-shirt proudly. He had spent most of the day in bed, so he hadn’t yet gotten dressed and the only thing left on him was a pair of shorts. He got hold of the waist band and pulled it out a little, raising his eyebrows at Axl, waiting for a confirmation.
Axl scoffed, then put his hands under his armpits and started flapping his elbows.
“Oh yeah?” Izzy said defiantly, not about to wait for the clucking noises which were imminent, then pulled down his shorts and tossed them in Axl’s direction. He threw up his arms and spun around a couple of times. “Here I am. Do your worst, pal!”
Izzy lay back down on the bed, comfortably resting his head on a pillow, and continued to smoke his cigarette nonchalantly. Shit, it wasn’t like Axl hadn’t seen him naked before. Being in this band, living in this house, everyone had seen him naked. He would’ve laughed in Axl’s face at his attempt to embarrass him, but he knew that proving a point by embarrassing Izzy wasn’t Axl’s full agenda. And if it was, then the idea that that kid needed therapy was well and truly settled.
Axl seemed a little shocked that Izzy went through with it, but he put on a staunched face and hoisted himself up to sit on a stack of amps so he could look down at Izzy. He felt pretty stupid sitting up there, staring down at his naked bandmate, but if Stradlin wanted a contest, he was gonna get one.
Izzy was unmoved by this. He picked up a guitar magazine and began reading. Really, he wasn’t just going to lie there. That’d be silly. He’d go on doing his usual business, and Axl could stare all he wanted.
It was a good couple of minutes before somebody spoke. Axl was glaring at Izzy, trying his best to make him uncomfortable, while all Izzy did was glance at Axl every now and again to make sure that he was glaring at him, trying his best to make him uncomfortable.
Then an idea popped into Izzy’s head.
“Care to make this interesting?” he said, putting aside the magazine and smiling up at Axl.
“How?”
“If you, with your useless attempts, can somehow make me blush then you win and I’ll do anything you want. However, if you can’t, you’ll do anything I want.”
“Ha! Oh, no, no, I’m not falling for that. No deal. I know you, Stradlin. If you win, you’ll have me holding up a fuckin’ liquor store or eating dog food or some shit.”
“Don’t worry, it won’t be anything that bad. It’ll be something which doesn’t even require leaving the room. That’s safe, enough, right?” Izzy said innocently. “But that’ll go for you too.”
Axl mulled over the proposal. “Alright,” he said. “But ten minutes is the time limit, or else we’ll be here till fucking Christmas. That’s all I fuckin’ need anyway, but you can’t be reading that magazine or doing anything to distract yourself.”
Izzy took the magazine and threw it in the corner, then folded his arms across his chest. “You’re on.”
They both looked at the clock. 2:37pm.
Minute one. Izzy was picking the dirt from under his fingernails, and Axl was still glaring and at the same time contemplating how he could win this.
“Hold on!” Axl said. “You can’t do that. That counts as distracting yourself. You have to look at me, or else it won’ t bother you.”
“Whatever Trevor.”
Minute two. Izzy was looking at Axl now, and pretending to yawn, and Axl was beginning to think that this might be harder than it seemed at first. Then he smirked proudly when he remembered who exactly Stradlin was fucking with. He’d show him…
Minute three. Izzy was making himself look like a difficult opponent, but Axl wasn’t buying it anymore. He realized that he had only been staring at Izzy’s face earlier, and only rarely glancing down at the rest of his body. Oh, I’ll show you, he thought with confidence. Izzy was trying to dishearten Axl by looking at him and appearing bored, but now Axl licked his lips slowly for Izzy to admire. It was subtle, but not too subtle. Shit, he knew what he had. He knew what effect he could have on people if he chose to turn on the charm. Innocent, Axl told himself, sweet and innocent like you’ve never seen a naked man before. That’ll learn him. He lowered his eyelids as he trailed his eyes down along Izzy’s chest, and parted his lips and began to breathe a little heavier as he came to rest with his eyes on Izzy’s cock. Acting shy, he widened his eyes and quickly averted his gaze.
Minute four. Izzy had flinched, and Axl was keeping up the ‘virgin’ act. All seemed to be working in Axl’s favour, until the door opened and Axl almost fell—but to look graceful decided to jump—off the stack of amps.
It was Duff standing in the doorway, his eyebrows knotted and one corner of his lip raised.
“What the hell are you two doing?”
Axl went red, while Izzy only rolled to his side and scratched his chin. “Nothing,” he said casually. “I was just trying to convince him that there’s nothing weird about staring at a person for no reason other than they’re nice to look at.”
“Oh,” Duff shrugged. “Yeah. I do it all the time.”
“Oh! Bullshit!” Axl suddenly snapped out of embarrassment and went back to outrage. “I’ve never seen you stare at anyone like how he was gaping at me!”
“Yeah, you’re just saying that ‘cause I don’t look at you,” Duff said. “Anyway, I just came to get my wallet.”
He grabbed his wallet from a shelf and went on his way.
“See,” Izzy said, “nothing weird!”
“You’re both fucking crazy. Put your goddamn pants back on!”
Izzy shrugged and pulled on his shorts. “So I win?”
“Like hell! He interrupted. I would’ve got you good if Duff hadn’t barged in and ruined everything.”
“Yeah, that ‘innocent little boy, never seen a dick in his life’ thing was really working,” Izzy smirked.
Axl’s jaw dropped. His plan had failed, and now he was being insulted. “Fuck you!” he spat. He stormed out, evidently not planning to go far as he was still almost naked, and sat on the doorstep outside. Izzy followed him and sat next to him.
“So you’re angry now?”
“No. Go away.”
“Jeez, man. Why do you have to make things so difficult all the time?”
“I’m not making anything difficult. This is all fucking stupid!”
“C’mon, man. I was just having a bit of fun.”
Axl was pouting and staring angrily at the concrete by his feet. Great, Izzy thought. He couldn’t understand why Axl was so upset all of a sudden, but then he remembered that this was Axl and Axl never really needed an excuse at all. Izzy put an arm around him, and at first Axl flinched away but then calmed himself and let Izzy keep his arm around his back.
“Look,” Izzy said, “I’m sorry if I upset you—“
“You didn’t upset me! Quit treating me like I’m a fuckin’ mental patient.”
“Fine, fuck you, whatever.”
Izzy left him outside and went back into the Hell House, back to his bed and back to his pot and cigarettes and magazines. Stupid Axl. Why was it that any bit of fun with him always turned into dramatics? Well fuck him. He could sit outside and sulk all he wanted to. He’d get over it soon enough. Shit, he should be a mental patient.
A few minutes later Axl came inside, and lay down next to Izzy. “I’m sorry,” he said. “I’m being a prick again.”
“It’s okay, I’m used to it.”
“Are you angry now?”
“No,” Izzy said genuinely. “Let’s just forget about this and go on about our normal business.”
Axl sighed, but he didn’t turn away from Izzy and kept studying his face as if they were still talking, even though Izzy seemed deeply involved in his magazine.
“It’s not really that weird, you know, for people to blatantly stare at each other,” he said. “I was just… I don’t know… I was fucking with you.”
Izzy put aside the magazine. The conversation didn’t seem to be close to an end.
“I was fucking with you too. Well, I was sort of conducting an experiment.”
“And what’d you discover?”
“That you’re a lost cause,” Izzy snickered.
Axl looked a trifle offended. “And what’s that supposed to mean?”
How to explain this…? Izzy thought. This whole thing had gotten much more complicated than it was meant to be, and Izzy wished that he had never bothered trying to explain himself. When Axl had asked what he was doing, Izzy should’ve just said ‘nothing,’ and gone back to getting high.
“I’ve always had the philosophy that if you wanna do something, you should just quit being a bitch and do it,” Izzy said, and he was going to leave it at that. Trying to explain to Axl why he had been staring at him sort of defeated the main point of his philosophy, which was that simple acts such as that shouldn’t have to be explained at all.
“Me too,” Axl said, and put a hand on Izzy’s thigh. The gesture could have been considered a friendly pat between friends, but as the two looked at each other both of them knew it was more than that.
It was only awkward for a second, when Izzy didn’t know if Axl was about to lean in and kiss him or reach over across him to grab a packet of cigarettes. But when Axl climbed on top of him and slid his tongue inside his mouth, it felt nothing short of natural.
It’s finally happening, Izzy thought with content as he smoothed his palms along Axl’s back. His skin was soft and warm, just like Izzy had always imagined it. He spread his legs so that Axl could lie comfortably in between, and they stayed like that, kissing until both their lips were swollen and sore.
Axl pulled away when he felt Izzy’s erection against his thigh. “What now?” he said.
Izzy drew in a long breath. “I don’t know what now.”
“It’s not weird,” Axl said.
“I told you.”
“Okay,” he said. “Good. Now that we’ve established that… I think we’re good.”
“Good.”
Axl shifted down a little and lay his head on Izzy’s chest. He was comfortable like that, and at the moment that’s all he wanted. He would need time to get used to the feel of Izzy’s skin, and the taste of his mouth and the smell and texture of his hair and this new idea that they could touch or look at each other whenever they wanted to, without having to explain themselves. It didn’t need an explanation.
“It’ll take time to get used to,” he told Izzy.
Izzy shrugged.
“Just as long as we’ve established that it’s not weird…” he said, and put his hand on Axl’s shoulder, closing his eyes in content.
|