He was hot. Really hot. But there was something strange. Bree could remember everything that happened, so obviously she had not been drunk. And she didn't recall Slash drinking anything at all beforehand, and he certainly seemed sober enough.
So ... He had sex with her.. because it meant something to him. If it was just a drunken fuck, he would have gotten her drunk, but he didn't. Not at all.
Bree's heart swelled and she giggled. Slash. Slash from Guns N' Fucking Roses.
Her giggles woke him. He grumbled lowly and moved. "Bree?" he mumbled sleepily. HE FUCKING REMEMBERED !
Bree stroked his soft, thick black curls. "Hey, sleepy." She kissed him softly.
She could feel the light scratch of his stubble but she kind of liked it.
Slash kissed her back deeply, smirking against the kiss as she pushed her hands into his curls. He held her against him , his body pressing against hers.
Bree pulled away for a second for air, and leaned on him. The soothing motion of his chest as he breathed relaxed her, and she rested her head just where she could hear his heartbeat.
His hands cupped her face and he kissed her nose playfully.
"You're so cute."
"I know," she cuddled against him. He lay back and relaxed, holding her.
"Saul." She called him by his real name, and he looked down.
"What?"
"I have weed in my handbag. 10 joints."
"Okay ..."
"Wanna smoke it?"
"Go get it!" he grinned. She was fucking awesome, he loved her to bits.
She was hot, she could knock whiskey quicker than he could blink, she was covered in tattoos AND she talked to him about stuff, intimate stuff. They talked about kinky things because, not only were they lovers, but they were best friends, too.
Bree leaned over the side of the bed and retrieved a red and black handbag.
She put it on Slash's chest and rummaged through it. She took out a freezerbag of joins, some makeup wipes and a blue lighter.
"What are the wipes for?" he asked curiously.
"For me. Panda eyes." She put a joint in his mouth and lit it. He took a drag , startled.
"Shit, that's strong."
"I know." She took a long pull, and held it. Then exhaled deeply.
"Fuck me, that's good."
"I wouldn't mind fucking you," he chuckled softly and he kissed her.
She smiled and lay back, continuing to smoke the joint.
Four joints later, they were both feeling the buzz, and not just any buzz.
"Fuck me," she gasped, her mouth locking with his.
He did. And it was amazing.
After they lay together, still completely stoned, but sober enough to realize one thing.
They loved each other.