Author: Yours truly
Rating: PG-13 (for language)
Disclaimer: You will get hot and bothered
Feedback: Don't care.
Summary: Edge gets lonely in Miami.
Notes: Read it. Don't. No, read it.
The band had just finished their second and last show in Miami. Bono had spent the weekend club hopping, Larry stayed for the most part at the private pool at the top of the hotel sunning and Adam had chartered his own boat to a private island, some 15 miles off the coast of Miami Beach. This left Edge bored and lonely in their four night stay in the city of passion. With his wife not being able to make it that weekend, Edge was very lonely indeed. He had spent most of the weekend enjoying the mini bar and watching weekend movies on HBO.
Bono had been playfully filming him for most of the day and although this normal routine would usually tire Edge, he found himself with a burst of energy after the show. With only one night left in the beach made famous for sexcapades, Edge had decided to live it up.
Edge walked into his hotel room, a lavish suite with room for at least 200 Africans. But tonight, Edge didn't care about Africans. Edge was taking care of Edge's needs. He slid into the hotel bathrobe and collapsed on the bed, massaging his sore feet. He grabbed the lotion on the side of the bed and moisturized those hands of gold, making sure that they were ready for the long night ahead. He lifted the covers to his right and saw his partner was already there.
"Oh my love, you've been hungering for my touch. I'm so sorry," he added, while tenderly kissing her neck, "I haven't been with you this tour. It's been such a crazy time." Edge was loosening the bathrobe and moving his hand down under the sheets.
"My exotic little princess...I wish they'd let you come onstage with us again." Edge threw his bathrobe on the floor and got under the sheets.
"But Bono says you're too...too...pretty...and naughty for the Vertigo tour." Edge, relying on pure instinct, started to fingerpick his precious love as she made noises that seemed oh so familiar to him. He was loving every minute of it. His other hand began to move over the curves of her body, making sure to feel every side of her, even her flat back. He tapped it playfully to keep his rhythm.
Edge stopped the fingerpicking to make sure she was ready for the wailing he was going to make her endure. He grabbed her tuning nuts and turned them tighter. Her strings became taut.
"Oh, stop getting all tense, you..." he growled. Edge hadn't been with her in ages and didn't know when to stop. She began to wail in pain as her strings snapped one by one, hitting Edge on his fuzzy stomach, but he didn't care.
"Oh God! Spank me, I love it. Spank me again!" he yelled as the D string hit him harder than ever. He licked her now bare neck and enjoyed the metallic taste that came with her. He fumbled around for the pick lying by her neck and gently licked it. He grabbed it in his mouth and rolled it with his tongue before popping it out of his mouth with his free hand. He ran it down her back and dropped it quickly as he found her output jack.
"Oh God! I'm so fucking close to the tone controls!" he moaned. "Quick baby, where is your distorter?! WHERE!"
Then Edge found what he was looking for. He rapidly grabbed her whammy bar and twisted it around and around. His head thrashed in ecstasy, but it still wasn't enough of a rush for him. He didn't want to leave Miami Beach without having the most passionate night he had in years. Edge slid towards the edge of bed and reached around for his stolen property. He had been planning this months in advance. It was the one thing Edge never had the nerve to touch, to play, to love. And there it was, in his hotel room, alone.
Bono's green tinged thick guitar with the tired lyric was now in his hands. Edge had never experienced bisexual guitar love, but he was ready. He sat Mr. Soul at his knees, and enjoyed having his weight rest on his lower body. He layed in his bed just long enough before running his arm down his backside. It wasn't like the other guitars. It was rough and wide. Edge moaned at the thought of having both guitars at his side.
It was at this point that a normal warning knock came at his door, but Edge did not hear it. Bono stumbled through the door, not yet wasted, but with enough of a buzz to leave him tipsy at the feet.
"MR. SOUL! GET OFF YOUR KNEES, PLEASE!" he screamed in a shrill voice Edge hadn't heard in years.
Edge reached for the covers, but the damage was done. Bono's shock had knocked the buzz out of him and he was glaring at Edge with menace in his eyes.
"WHAT THE FECK ARE YOU DOING TO MY GUITAR!" he demanded.
"It's the one thing you'd never give me. I wanted him, and he wanted me," Edge replied, defiantly.
"It's a fucking guitar, you sick fuck!"
"Like you've never h-"
"NO. I've never gotten off on guitars. Is this what all the 'experimenting' was in the nineties?" Edge sheepishly brushed off the broken guitar strings on the floor and answered with a low "yes."
"Give me Mr. Soul back, please."
"We were enjoying it."
"You kidnapped him."
"He came willingly!"
"I don't even want to know what that means," Bono shouted and grabbed his precious green guitar. "Keep your hands off my soul, pervert." Bono left the room and slammed the door shut leaving Edge to wonder if he could have planned a better evening. He sat for a moment, chuckling to himself before reaching under the bed again and pulling out ole' trusty.
"They don't call you The Explorer for nothing," he taunted, just before turning off the lights.