#i wrote most of this one a loooong time ago

Our names in lights – Slash/Duff oneshot

Inspired by some of Slash and Duff’s onstage antics, a bit angsty. Enjoy!

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Duff McKagan.  

Bassist for Guns N Roses.  

Human equivalent of a Golden Retriever.  

Boyfriend to one very, very lucky lead guitarist… who dreads the conversation he’s about to have with the man he loves.

“Babe, I need to talk to you for a minute, okay?”

Slash stamps down the post-show high as well as he can and tries to speak in his Serious Voice, the tone that already has Duff’s metaphorical tail between his legs as Slash pulls him around a corner into an empty hall backstage. It’s plain on his face that he knows where this is going, he knows what he did, and Slash wants to hold him and promise that it wasn’t his fault but this isn’t the time or the place for reassurances.  He’ll try to be gentle, but that doesn’t change what needs to be said:

“Duff.  C’mon, look at me.  There’s going to be a million cameras out there, alright?  We have to be extra careful, especially after the way we were acting on stage tonight.  No more of this " — he shakes their linked hands, — “if we want to keep this thing private, okay?  Can you do that for me, baby?”

Duff breaks Slash’s gaze and stares down at the toes of his cowboy boots, anxiously grinding one of his soles into the concrete floor.  His hair is stringy with sweat and it hangs in front of his face, but even with his downcast eyes obscured he’s the very picture of chastised contrition.  His shoulders are shamefully hunched and he’s chewing lightly on his bottom lip as if to keep it from quivering.  One hand is tightly clasping Slash’s, and the other is clenched in the fabric of his shirt.

The whole scene is like a dagger in Slash’s heart.  Fuck, he hates it when he has to be firm with Duff.  It’s not Duff’s fault that he’s such a perfect boyfriend, so generously affectionate and loving that he has a hard time reigning it in at the appropriate times.  And it’s not either of their faults that slipping up in front of the wrong person or camera could spell the end of both their careers.  Slash would never risk putting Duff through that — he was too selfish to let him go, but he’d do anything in his power to make sure that nothing got in the way of the dream Duff worked so hard to achieve. 

So they had both agreed that it would be best to play just-friends in public.  But the thing is… Duff has a hard time following through. This wasn’t his first time slipping up, nor will it be the last, but Slash still feels like the most ungrateful asshole of a boyfriend in the world every time he has to call him out.

Duff nods quickly, still not meeting Slash’s eyes.  A barely-audible sigh escapes his throat as Slash untangles their fingers and places both of his hands on Duff’s arms, a purely platonic gesture belied by the hushed words Slash leans in to whisper: “After we get through this, I’ll make it up to you at the hotel alright?” A hint of a sultry smirk appears as his eyes flick down to Duff’s lips.  “… I got some ideas when you were grinding on me during the show tonight.“

Duff nods again, but he can see the come-on for what it really is — a courtesy, Slash trying to prove that he’s not mad when by all rights he should be.  Or maybe even an incentive, to ensure Duff behaves himself for the rest of the night.  

Each of his fuckups is a reminder that he’s the weak link in their relationship, he’s the over-emotional mess who can’t keep himself in check.  It’s a goddamn miracle that he hasn’t gotten them caught yet… He could never forgive himself for doing that to Slash.

The guitarist might be one of the smartest, toughest people Duff has ever met, but deep down he’s shy and sensitive.  If the media found out about their relationship, the fallout would hurt him badly – they both know it, but Slash still loves him enough to take the risk. 

And how does Duff repay him?  By humping him like a dog in front of 20,000 people, that’s how.  God, the thought of it now makes Duff feel sick. 

Slash takes a step back and turns to lead them back through the maze of corridors, tossing an encouraging grin over his shoulder as he does so.  Duff does his best to return the smile.  Mentally, he avows to be perfect — not to earn a reward that he doesn’t deserve, but to prove that he can pull his weight in this relationship, that Slash doesn’t have to keep covering for his mistakes.

The corridor grows brighter ahead of them, illuminated by the glittering flare of cameras flashing. Slash greets the assembly, Duff trails behind at a safe distance with his head bowed and his hands shoved in his pockets. For both their sakes, he thinks, he better not fuck this up.

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