#if you're wondering how the fuck Vince/Steven became a thing you're asking the wrong person

[jaxl-road]

Scar Tissue chapter 4

The boys reluctantly deal with the fallout the next morning. The road is looking long and rocky for all of them, but hey. They’ve got each other.

Pairings: Slash/Duff, side Axl/Izzy, side Nikki/Tommy

Warnings: ((not in this chapter)) Implied/discussed past abuse (non-explicit)

Read on AO3

“Please tell me I just smoked some bad weed last night and I didn’t actually punch Vince in the face.”

Slash was still half asleep when Steven barged into his room. “Uuuuh,” Rubbing his eyes, he glanced around and wasn’t surprised to find that Duff was already awake and out somewhere, “I mean, I don’t know if you technically punched him in the face. There was definitely some hair pulling, but…”

“Fuuuuuuuuuck…” Steven let out a long groan, shuffling over to fall face-down next to Slash on his bed, “Shoot me, Slash. Just put me out of my misery.”

Sitting up, Slash pat his back sympathetically, “Hey, we were all fucked up. Everything will be fine-”

“No it won’t!” Steven wailed into the mattress, “God, what the fuck is happening? I was acting like you last night.”

“Wait, what?” furrowing his brow, he shook at Steven’s shoulder, “What the fuck does that mean? I rarely get in fights!”

“I meant I was acting stupid.”

“Hey!” This time he shoved him harder, “That’s not better!” He may have been offended, but he couldn’t help but be a little relieved when Steven giggled softly. “Seriously, dude. What happened?”

It took a minute for the drummer to answer, “I have a crush and it made me act dumb,” he finally turned his face to look at Slash, smiling wryly, “just like you,” he explained.

Slash paused, “Oh,” he said, “that’s fair actually.”

“Yeah, I know,” Steven huffed out a laugh, but it quickly dissolved into a whine as he buried his face in his arms, “But at least you haven’t fucking decked your crush.”

“Wait, wait, hold on,” holding one hand up, Slash used the other to pinch the bridge of his nose. It was too early for this. “Vince is your crush?”

“Uh, yeah?” Looking up again, Steven looked confused, “I thought it was obvious?”

“Nope, definitely not obvious at all.”

“Well, you’re a bad judge, you’re so distracted by Duff I don’t think you’d notice if I dyed my hair green or some shit.”

“Am not!” He cried as Steven stood up, walking out of the room. Slash quickly followed after him.

“Izzy!” The drummer skipped over to the rhythm guitarist, the other man sighing into his coffee as he was approached by his band mates, “Izzy, did you know I have a crush on Vince?”

“I didn’t want to know,” he mumbled tiredly.

“Is that a yes?”

“It’s a fuck off.”

Slash snickered as Steven huffed, “Oh come on! If you knew you have an obligation to help me out! You and Axl somehow manage to be in a more-or-less stable relationship. Who else can I turn to? Slash??” he gestured at his friend, “He shares a room with his crush and he still can’t get it!”

“What the fuck, shut up, asshole!” Slash covered Steven’s mouth with both hands, head whipping around wildly in search of the tall bassist in case he had overheard.

“He’d not here, dumbass,” Izzy smirked, “Apparently he got called into work today.”

“Oh,” Slash should have been relieved, but instead he deflated at the realization that Duff would be gone all day.

“See! This is what I’m talking about!” Steven exclaimed.

“Shut up! You fucking punched Vince, I think I’m a step above you at this point.”

“You punched Vince?” Izzy raised an eyebrow, “Nice. I should tell Axl, it might help cheer him up.”

As Izzy walked out of the kitchen, the other two followed after him. They were surprised when they walked past Izzy and Axl’s shared room to find it empty; they had expected the singer to still be holed up. But when they entered the living room, their eyes immediately fell on a lump of blankets sprawled out in a patch of sun on the floor, a few strands of red hair peeking out.

“I put him out here since our room doesn’t get any sun,” Izzy explained with a shrug.

“You two are sickeningly adorable,” Slash pouted.

Izzy ignored him, crouching next to the mass, “Hey, Axe, Steven punched Vince in the face.” It took a moment, but the fabric shifted just slightly. If Axl spoke, his words were too soft to reach Slash or Steven, but Izzy responded, “Last night, I think.”

“There was also hair pulling involved,” Slash chimed in, grinning when Steven shoved his shoulder.

There was more shifting, until a pale arm managed to escape to give a thumbs up in Steven’s general direction. Chuckling, Izzy gave his boyfriend a soft pat around his shoulder as he wormed his arm back into his cocoon. Standing, he gestured for the other two to sit on the couch with him.

“Alright, I’m awake now. Tell me what the fuck you lovesick idiots got into last night.”

“Yeah, I actually want to know the details, too,” Slash agreed, the three of them lounging on the beat up couch as Izzy sipped his coffee and Axl stayed in his motionless heap on the patch of sunlit carpet across from them.

Sighing heavily, Steven dropped his head into his hands as he explained, “We were both drunk and high and shit, and he kept talking about who he could hook up with since Duff was gone, and he mentioned practically every fucking person in the room except me. And so I tried to like, be cool or some shit and mention that, hey, fuck, I’m available, y’know? And that stupid fucker offered to set me up with some chick, and then I think I called him a slut, and then it just… escalated.”

“Yeah, that sounds about right,” Izzy nodded.

“At least you were interacting with him,” Slash mumbled, still feeling bad about his actions the previous night, “I was so determined to impress Duff I ended up ignoring him the whole night.”

“That also sounds right.”

Glaring at Izzy, Steven and Slash both slumped onto the couch, resigning themselves to wallowing for the day.

Izzy shook his head at the two of them, “You two are a sorry sight. I can’t believe you go out for one night without me and Axl and you both manage to fumble your nonexistent love lives. That’s gotta be some sort of record.” Steven shoved him weakly as Slash flipped him off, making Izzy roll his eyes, “Oh for fuck’s sake,” he grumbled, “Coffee’s not enough for this, I need a drink. Or a hit. Actually both. All of you just…” he glanced around at his three band mates, each in some sort of lifeless heap, before sighing heavily, “...stay here.”

After a few minutes of silence, Slash rolled his head over to look at Steven, “This is dumb. We should just, like, find someone else. We get enough hot chicks crawling over us after shows these days.”

“True,” Steven sighed, “maybe if we find someone hot enough to fuck we can just forget about these bastards.”

“You’re both pussies,” Izzy deadpanned as he reentered the room, coffee spiked to Hell and back and a fresh flow of dope in his blood. Dropping onto the couch, he stretched his legs out over the other two men’s laps, “If you really thought that would work you’d have done it already.” Receiving two groans of reluctant agreement, he continued, “And besides, you’re barely trying. You don’t get to give up until you actually put an effort into it.” Immediately they both started arguing.

“I have to put effort into it!” Steven exclaimed, “Were you not listening to what happened yesterday? The asshole was just too dense to notice it!”

“I spend everyday talking to Duff and I’m still getting nowhere!”

“He literally flirts with everything that breathes except me!”

“And I can’t even like, get a little handsy cause he’s jumpy as fuck!”

“He even flirted with Duff-!”

“Vince fucking flirted with Duff-!”

“But he didn’t even notice me!”

“And he didn’t even realize how jealous I was!”

“What else am I supposed to do?”

“What else can I do?”

When they finally ended their rants, they found Izzy giving them an unimpressed stare. He took a long drink from his mug before responding, “Steven,” he spoke slowly, like he was talking to a child, “I’m pretty sure next to no one knows you have a crush on Vince. You’re all loving and happy and shit with everyone. The only difference between the people you’re friends with and the people you bang is whether or not you bang them.”

Steven sputtered, wanting to deny Izzy’s words but, unfortunately unable to. Taking another drink, Izzy turned his sights on Slash, “And you,” he pointed almost accusingly, “your crush is obvious to us because we know you. Duff probably just thinks you’re being a nice roommate or some shit.”

“But,” Slash frowned, “even as friends, I feel like no matter how close we get he always…” he hesitated, casting a quick glance towards the mound of blankets on the floor, “he’s always closer to someone else. Like, he’s always more comfortable with other people than he is with me,” he finished sadly.

Humming thoughtfully, Izzy debated his response. But before he could say anything, a snapping sound cut through the room. Looking over, they saw Axl’s arm had emerged again, snapping his fingers to get their attention. After a moment, he waved his hand in a ‘come here’ motion.

Izzy raised an eyebrow, “All of us or just Slash?”

Axl held up two fingers, and Izzy kicked at Slash’s side, pushing him off the couch. Frowning in confusion, Slash crept over to Axl’s side, kneeling next to him and leaning close. Shuffling, the singer tugged the blankets down to reveal the top half of his face- eyes red with dark circles under them.

“How relaxed are you around Duff?” he asked, his voice soft and slightly raspy.

The question surprised him, “Uh,” Slash blinked a few times as he considered his answer, “I mean, I’m not… not relaxed around him? But like… I like him a fucking lot, so I guess I’m usually a little more nervous around him than you guys?”

“Hm,” Axl raised a tired eyebrow, and then, before Slash could say anything else, he burrowed back into the comforter, “Okay. Now go away.”

Slash spread his arms in confusion, turning to Steven and Izzy with a look of offended confusion. Returning to the couch, he repeated the short conversation to the other two, “Like, what the fuck was that about?”

Izzy leaned forward, putting his head in his hands and sighing long and hard while Steven giggled, “Oh my God, dude. Dude.”

“What?”

“Jesus fuck, I feel way better about my own situation now.”

Slash shoved at him, Steven still laughing as he ran into the kitchen, the guitarist following him still bickering and clueless. Shaking his head in amusement, Izzy stood and made his way over to Axl, laying down and stretching out next to him. The red head shuffled a bit to flop his head and one arm across Izzy’s chest.

“...We weren’t that dumb before we got together, right?” Axl mumbled into his chest.

Laughing, Izzy pressed a kiss onto the top of the singer’s hair, “Oh babe,” he grinned, “We absolutely were.”

~~~~~~

By the time Duff got home in the early evening, the sun had gone done, leading Izzy to carry the Axl burrito back into their room, and the kitchen was in disarray from Slash and Steven throwing things at each other as they bickered about their respective romantic stupidity. On the plus side, they had at least worn themselves out and come to a reluctant understanding that they were both dumbasses.

“Um…” Duff looked around at the mess, before turning to look at Steven and Slash, who were sitting at the kitchen table with a few empty beer bottles between them, “Hi?” The two boys mumbled out a greeting. Clearing his throat, Duff held up a paper bag almost nervously, “I brought food?”

That had them perking up. “Really?” Steven grinned excitedly, “Fuck, Duff you’re the best!”

Chuckling, the bassist set the bag down on the counter, “I mean, it’s not much. Just leftovers and shit from work.”

“It’s food, therefore you’re my new favorite,” Steven insisted.

He and Slash cleared the bottles off the table, allowing Duff to unpack the paper bag, “I’ve got some lasagna, a few pieces of garlic bread, and a bit or ravioli.”

Faced with actual food, Slash and Steven didn’t even bother with plates, each grabbing a fork and eating right out of the containers, expressing their gratitude through mouthfuls of food.

Duff laughed at their enthusiasm, “Save some for Izzy and Axl, you fucking animals!”

Some of the food was reluctantly set aside before the two continued devouring their meal, “You gonna eat any, Duff?” Slash asked.

Shaking his head, the bassist leaned back in his seat, “Nah, I ate at work.” The three band mates chatted amicably for a few minutes as the food steadily disappeared before Duff finally turned to the drummer hesitantly, “So, hey, Stevie, are you, uh, alright? After last night, I mean. Things got kinda intense at the end there.”

“Oh,” Steven blinked in surprise. With all the morning discussion and bickered they’d had, he’d sort of forgotten that Duff hadn’t been around to hear all the details, “Yeah, no, it’s cool. I mean, I’m gonna hang with Tommy tonight to get a feel for how bad I fucked things up but,” we waved a hand, smiling wryly, “just love and war bullshit, y’know?” Steven tried to keep his words lighthearted and nonchalant, but he could still see little flickers of fear, or sadness, or both, flash across Duff’s eyes.

“Hah, yeah, of course, that… makes sense,” he tried to laugh, to stay natural, but Duff's whole body seemed to deflate in something like defeat.

When the bassist looked down to fiddle with his bracelets, Steven sent a look of thinly veiled panic towards Slash. They had been friends long enough for the guitarist to hear the words in his head loud and clear: Holy shit did I fuck things up with Vince AND Duff??

Before they could press the issue further, Izzy wandered out, pausing when he saw the containers of food, “Oh Hell yes, something that’s not ramen,” he said excitedly.

“We were even nice and saved some for you and Axl,” Slash pushed one of the takeout boxes towards him.

“Awesome, hold on,” slinking back into his room, they could hear some shuffling, murmured words, and then soft curses. When Izzy returned, he was carrying a familiar bundle of blankets, but this time it was squirming and releasing a series of muffled expletives. Izzy paid it no mind though, unceremoniously placing it on the kitchen counter before turning to sit at the table with the rest of the band. The grumbling continued, and when he noticed the three sets of raised eyebrows, Izzy merey shrugged as he pulled the tray of lasagna towards him, “Axl is mad ‘cause I’m not letting him isolate himself for once in his fucking life.” A hand wormed out of the comforters just long enough to give a firm middle finger in the man’s direction.

It was strange, Slash thought. Steven was nervously chatting with Duff, scooting his chair closer to try to bridge whatever gap he’d accidentally created, rambling about how Tommy was going to help him fix things. Slash tried to insert himself in their conversation while also chatting with Izzy to keep the other guitarist’s mind off the unmoving, silent, hidden body on the countertop across from them. The dirty, run-down kitchen was packed with five kids who all seemed to carry their own flavor of deep exhaustion and pain with them.

But they also carried the same flavor of ambition and drive and determination. They still managed to fill their hellhole of a house with laughter and creativity, drawing each other out of their own heads, even managing to literally draw Axl out of his shelter after a couple hours (well, the top half of his face. But still).

When the night ended, Steven was still trying to figure out what to do about the Vince situation as he left to find Tommy, and Izzy still had to carry Axl back to their room, and him and Slash still shot up together to take the edge off, and Duff still got wasted before he went to bed, and Slash still didn’t know how to move forward with the bassist. Honestly, things still weren’t great.

But still. Still. Slash couldn’t help but feel like maybe they would be. He couldn’t help but have hope.

They'd get there.