Title: "Breaking Pattern"
Author: Kelandris the Mad
Fandom: View Askewniverse, pre-Mallrats
Pairing: Jay/Silent Bob
Rating: Songfic. NC-17 for graphic sexual content between males, 
references to rape and sodomy, emotional pain, angst, and language.
Status: New
Archive: The traditional places. If you don't know what the 
traditional places are, you might want to write and ask. And here's 
how:
Feedback: kel@crazysheep.net
Series/Sequels: Should be a one-shot.
Disclaimers: Kevin Smith, View Askew Productions, Jason Mewes, Scott 
Mosier, and Miramax have creative control and ownership of Jay and 
Silent Bob. I am just an insignificant slasher who wants the boys to 
have fun now that they've retired. I'm not even charging them.
Notes: This is based around two things: the real-life experience of 
the rape of a friend of mine, and how she asked me to help her 
through the trauma, and a quote from Angelina Jolie: "There were 
moments where I just wanted physically to have something... whether it 
be a knife or a whip, you want to be drained of everything that is 
making you... you want somehow to have everything go quiet." Here's to 
the hope that things are quieter now for both of them. I should 
mention further that the boys being the boys wanted to take it 
further on their own. Oh, and Tricia's blue plaid jumper actually 
belongs to a friend of mine. It's a very adorable jumper in a nice 
Black Watch plaid. Our dear non-American friends should understand 
this is not a sweater, this is a *dress*. And the fellow who wore it 
home from the party looked positively charming in it. Pity he 
doesn't get that drunk more often.
Summary: Jay asks Bob to help with an unusual problem.
Warnings: Graphic depiction of rape trauma, sodomy, homosexuality, 
fingering, fisting, and eventual fucking. Oh, and shit, like I 
fuckin' said already, damn it, there's a language warning, too. :>

"Breaking Pattern"
by Kelandris


Another scream at midnight, another choked-off cry, and the dark-
haired man wearily dragged himself out of bed. His new roommate was 
having nightmares again.

**Well, new,** he thought, rubbing his eyes. **Been here for a 
year. When do you stop thinking of him as new?**

But new or not, Jay was dreaming again, and whatever he was dreaming 
about... was terrifying. The first few times he'd leapt from his bed, 
grabbing a weapon--switchblade, broadsword, sometimes a baseball bat--
and dashed for the source of the disturbance, intending to fight off 
any attackers who'd slipped in unawares.

The first time Jay had locked his door, and Bob, unthinking, had 
broken it down. Jay had really started screaming then, making the 
transit from sleep into wakefulness, and seeing a large man holding a 
knife, kicking down the shards of the door. It had sent him into 
hysterics, and Bob still received sideways comments intended to wound 
about bursting in on Jay uninvited. Most of them still drew blood--
the boy knew how to use his tongue, that was for sure--but he was 
coping with that as the price of scaring the blond, when he'd already 
been terrified out of his mind.

But now. Now it was getting worse. Something had to be done.

*Morning smiles
like the face of a newborn child
innocent unknowing*

This time, Bob carefully eased the door open, and closed it quietly 
behind him as he walked into the room. As he'd seen before, Jay was 
a knotted lump snarled in bedsheets, writhing with his eyes closed. 
Bob couldn't just stand there, he had to do *something*, even if it 
was something he'd pay for later. He moved to the bed, sitting down 
carefully, watching Jay. Watching him whimper, watching him cringe 
away from dark air.

One cry was one cry too much and he reached out, touching Jay between 
the shoulderblades. He hadn't even managed to speak the blond's name 
when Jay shrieked, sitting up, flailing wildly at the hand touching 
him. Bob grabbed his wrists instinctively, and Jay shook his head, 
shrieking again.

"Jay," he said softly.

"No, no, nonononono, noooo..."

"Jay, you're safe. Safe, Jay. Safe." He stared into the blond's 
blinking eyes, hoping some part of him heard.

"Jay. Come back to me. You're safe."

And Jay blinked, shaking his head, looking at Bob for the first time 
since he'd walked into the room. The sudden transition from 
straining muscles fighting his grip, to boneless sobbing, curled 
around him, shaking the bed with the force of his tears, was 
astonishing to him, brutal on his senses, draining to his soul. But 
he held Jay, trying to soothe him with soft words, the lightest of 
touches to remind him there was another living soul in his life now. 
Finally, with no end in sight, he just picked the boy up, scooting 
onto the bed and stretching out. He laid Jay across him, holding him 
close, stroking his hair, and Jay ended up falling back asleep. 
After a few moments of moving the puzzle pieces around, he gave up--
he didn't have enough of Jay's pieces yet to solve. Soon, he was 
asleep himself.

*Winter's end
promises of a long lost friend
speaks to me of comfort
but I fear*

"Uhhh..."

Bob woke to sunlight and another male body in bed with him. The sun 
was coming in at the wrong angle, and he remembered the night before, 
putting things together. He was in Jay's room. And the other body 
in bed was Jay.

Who, at that moment, sat up, beginning to berate him for sneaking in, 
trying to cop a feel, wanting his ass... all the usual rants that Jay 
flung his way on a daily basis. Bob just looked at him.

**Not today,** he thought, wondering. Why? He thought about it, 
looking over at Jay. 

Because of last night. Last night changed things. Because of...

"The nightmares," he said aloud, interrupting Jay, whose eyes grew 
wide.

"What night... I mean, what the fuck you doin', sneakin' in here without 
my say--"

"Jay," Bob said firmly. "Breakfast."

Jay blinked. Then he slowly nodded. "Yeah, food sounds fuckin' good 
right now..." Then his attitude reasserted itself. "So move your 
tubby ass, man! Gimme some fuckin' privacy!"

*I have nothing to give
I have so much to lose
here in this lonely place*

He didn't know how the day could pass so quickly, weighed down as he 
was by secret thoughts. Could Jay open up to a therapist? Was it 
just a question of getting him to talk? How could he get him to talk 
when he was so traumatized by... by... whatever it was, that he could only 
sob helplessly?

The biggest question of all, circling the others like a shark, was 
how he would get Jay to talk when he, himself, had that little 
problem. If it wasn't something he'd willingly die for saying, it 
didn't need to be said. That had been proven over and over in his 
life already. He'd seen too many men go down for speaking out of 
turn, and he tried to avoid learning where their graves were kept.

But still. He had to say something. Or he had to find another way 
to break down those walls. Jay needed to sleep. Four months of this 
was more than enough.

*****

They were taking a break from wandering the mall when Tricia Jones 
walked up to them. She wore a blue plaid jumper and had her shoulder-
length hair bound back with gold barrettes. Bob smiled, watching her 
walk their way. Fourteen years old and already writing a book, he 
thought. He couldn't for the life of him remember what it was about, 
but it was an impressive accomplishment for someone her age.

She smiled briefly, sitting next to them at the table. Food court 
patrons walked between the stands, talking loudly, but Bob ignored 
them and Jay just clenched his hands. Tricia watched the mallwalkers 
for a moment, then turned towards Bob.

"Do you still have your video camera?" she asked softly. 

His eyebrows rose, but he nodded. Then he looked at her 
quizzically. She just smiled.

"Well, it will take a slight amount of explanation," she replied to 
his unspoken query. "I'm researching the male sex drive--"

Now she had Jay's attention, and judging from her expression, she 
profoundly did not want it.

"Ooh, bay-bee, you want any help with your research?" Jay sat 
forward, smirking, but there was panic in his eyes. Tricia narrowed 
hers, shaking her head.

"This is only the first stage of the testing. I'll need to film 
encounters I have with test subjects to document their reactions. 
It's all very clinical, Jay, you'd be bored silly." 

Jay nodded, turning his attention back to the drifting shoppers and 
his clenched hands.

She explained to Bob the layout she wanted and that it would be an 
extended loan of his equipment. Would he mind? He shook his head 
and she smiled back at him.

"Fine. I'll draw up papers for an extended lease, I'm sure we can 
work out some small stipend you'll be happy with. And I might want 
your help during the second stage of testing."

Jay looked up again. "There's a second stage of fucking somebody?"

Tricia frowned. "No, it's nothing like that, I'm afraid. I'm sure 
in certain cases I'll find aberrant behavior; I'm interested in 
testing the efficacy of repatterning therapy on them during the act."

Jay furrowed his brow. "What the fuck is that? Re-what-en-ing?"

"Repatterning. It was once a fairly obscure therapy, but it seems to 
be growing in favor amongst mental health care practitioners. Simply 
put, it involves the overlaying of positive experiences over the 
negative experiences already extant, sometimes involving application 
of the same type of experience that was so emotionally charged 
previously."

Jay sat up, blinking slowly. "So, lemme get this straight--you gots 
someone been burned by a cigar or something, so you'd set `em up with 
a marshmellow and a stick and put `em at a campfire? Same risk of 
getting burned, but the second time it'd be fun?"

Tricia shrugged. "In a matter of speaking. Why?"

Jay just shook his head.

"Lunchbox, we gotta jam. Be seein' ya, Trish." And he pulled Bob 
away, out to the curb, out to the bus stop.

Jay moved across the asphalt, his skin paper-white, drifting, but 
awake. Smoke-colored smudges under his eyes attested to his lack of 
sleep, and the way his eyes flicked from side to side... That was it, it 
had to be tonight. Walking home from the bus stop, Bob finally 
decided. One more night and Jay would crack.

What was becoming normal nightly routine also passed quickly, save 
for tonight, Jay was more twitchy than usual. A lot of it Bob 
attrributed to lack of sleep, but the way the blond kept watching him 
was becoming unnerving. They had dinner, shared a couple joints to 
wind down, watched a movie in the dark, Jay leaning against him. 
Finally, Bob thought, he had to bring it up. He couldn't let Jay go 
off to bed for another night of... of... whatever it was. He touched Jay 
on the arm, intending to tell him so, and looked down to find Jay 
looking at him.

He looked up at the dark-haired man, looking absolutely miserable, 
and Bob wondered why.

"Hey," Jay said softly.

Bob raised his eyebrows.

"You were talkin' about nightmares. Earlier," he clarified.

Bob raised his eyebrows again. **I remember.**

"Yeah, well, I, umm... I been thinkin' today, I been thinkin' about the 
dreams, about the... mem'ries behind `em." Here he swallowed, 
shuddering, before going on. "An' what Trish said today about 
repatternin'... I think..." He swallowed, looking away, twisting his 
hands in his lap.

"I been thinkin'... maybe there's a way to sleep better." Now he 
wouldn't meet Bob's eyes at all, and Bob began to worry.

**How bad could it be? He's just a kid, for--** Then he remembered 
some of the things he'd seen at his age, and before, and sighed, 
waiting.

*tangled up in our embrace
there's nothing I'd like
better than to fall*

Slowly, in fits and starts, he related some of his childhood that Bob 
hadn't known. He knew about the incident that caused Bob to take him 
out of there at last; he knew about the times when Jay had been 
beaten, once so badly that Bob had taken him to the local clinic, 
where he screamed until they sedated him. He hadn't known this.

Dear God, he hadn't known this.

Bob clenched his fists, listening. Suddnely he wanted very badly to 
rip Jay's stepdad's face from his skull. He wanted to hammer blows 
into him until he felt organs rupture. God, it hadn't been just 
beatings. It hadn't been just the final four-way that Jay's mom had 
peddled her son into. It had been a lifetime of pain, a lifetime of 
sex, a lifetime of rape. Culminating in these nightly fears that his 
stepdad was coming back, coming to take him again, coming to rape him 
again.

Jay looked up. "I think, uh, maybe, if you c'n do it... I think if you 
help me, I c'n get over this, maybe." He looked at his hands 
again. "I don't wanna spend the rest of my life screamin', Bob."

Bob's head stuttered to a halt, then started again. No. Of course 
not. Of course he would help. He found himself nodding, but his 
head was afraid. Repatterning. Of a rape victim. What would Jay 
ask him to do? All the ideas that his brain was tossing him involved 
Jay naked, and that was not something he felt could safely happen.

*but I fear I have nothing to give*

Jay went into his room first, turning off the lights and stripping 
down to shorts. He laid face-down on the bed.

"Uhm, okay," he said, his voice sounding years younger. Bob walked 
in, every muscle tense. He looked at the tableau on the bed, 
wondering what now.

"Touch me," Jay whsipered.

Oh. God. 

*they say temptation will destroy our love
the never ending hunger
but I fear*

Swallowing, Bob walked over to the bed, seeing the blond flinch, 
feeling his own face twitch in response.

"Are... you sure?" he asked, the words barely audible. Jay just nodded 
against the pillow, trembling. He thought that would be it, until he 
heard Jay whisper, "I trust you."

**Great. You trust me. What if I don't trust me?** 

"What do you want me to do?"

"Just...touch me," He clenched his fists in the pillow, the shaking 
getting worse. And Bob touched him. Lightly at first, every flinch 
of Jay's cutting thorugh him with scalpel precision.

He started on Jay's shoulders, stroking his fingertips lightly over 
the sweating skin. Then he moved to Jay's arms, trying to remind him 
through touch, through whatever feelings he could project through his 
fingertips, thorugh words if he had nothing else, that he was here. 
That he was Bob. That this time was different.

His hands moved lower, stroking over the outline of his ribs, still 
far too close to the skin. He swirled his fingers over Jay's lower 
back, resting his curled fingers for a moment in the hollow of Jay's 
spine.

"I trust you," he heard Jay repeating over and over. *I trust you, I 
trust you, *God*, I trust you..."

Bob clenched his eyes shut, feeling sudden tears press against the 
lids. He started to lift his hands away and Jay protested wordlessly.

"What?" he asked, his voice softer than Jay had ever heard.

In reply, Jay turned over slightly, away from him. Just enough to 
shuck off his shorts, in fact, and lay down once more. Face down 
again, he stretched, and curled his long arms around the lump of 
pillow he clutched.

"You gotta..." Jay paused, pressing his face into the pillow. "Maybe...
you got any lube?"

**What the hell would I want lube for,** he thought, a split second 
before the bottom dropped out of his stomach. He looked at the 
floor, blinking stupidly, and for once in his life, spoke entirely 
without thinking.

"You aren't serious. You don't want me to--"

"Fuck no!" Jay cried. "I wanna get raped, I can just run outside 
like this, dude!" Then he stopped, stricken, and they both hung 
there, watching the word neither had wanted to say hover between 
them. Then it dissolved, and Jay looked up at him again.

"It's like... y'know, you fall off the horse, you hafta get back on 
again?"

"You're not a horse," Bob said.

Jay snarled. "Nah, I just shoot horse to forget. Shit, man, you 
gonna help me or not here?"

Somewhere in Bob's mind, he thought, was an off switch. When he 
found it, he could pull it, and this entire night would disappear, 
and he wouldn't have to worry about anything but waking up tomorrow 
after a night of dreamless sleep. And while he was having that nice 
fantasy, he went and got the lube from his room, coming back in as 
quickly as he could.

Jay still jumped, and he clenched his fists, nearly crushing the 
plastic bottle he held.

*Wind in time
rapes the flower trembling on the vine

Lubing one finger up, he smoothed the other hand over Jay's ass, 
hoping he'd relax a little. He tensed up further, and Bob shook his 
head. How the hell was he going to do this wihtout causing Jay 
further mental pain? 

Hell, foreget mental pain; this might cause him great physical pain. 
How the hell... He traced a finger down the cleft, feeling the 
translucent downy hairs stroking along his fingers, and pushed his 
index finger against the clenched puckered circle of flesh he found 
there. His breathing sped up slightly as he pushed into Jay, just 
the tip of his finger, just letting it rest there, clenched by heat 
and the tightest rings of muscle he could remember feeling.

Jay was shuddering now, full-body shakes that moved the bed, and Bob 
could just make out his lips moving.

"Breathe, Jay," he whispered.

"Try--ing," he gasped. "Hurts."

"That's why I'm not moving."

"Yeah." And he ducked his head again, shoulders shaking, taking 
unsteady, gasping breaths. He breathed in and out for a moment, then 
turned his head, trying to look back at Bob.

"More," he whispered.

Bob closed his eyes, pushing the finger in a little more. Jay gasped 
and he stopped again, and Jay's legs kicked a little.

"No," he whispered. "More."

**More. How much more?**

*nothing yields to shelter it
from above*

Two fingers later, Bob was beginning to wonder again how much Jay 
wanted from him. Jay was a little less tense now, but he still 
whimpered with certain moves Bob made, and Bob still moved in slow 
motion.

Jay looked over his shoulder again. "Okay," he gasped. "I'm okay."

That was good. Bob, now, he was approaching dismantled. He couldn't 
look down and watch his fingers moving in and out of the straining 
blond. He couldn't *not* look down, because he had to be careful 
with what he was doing. And there was another upsetting factor--as 
distressed as he was over this situation, over what had driven Jay to 
this point, it was... oddly, uncomfortably... arousing. Shit.

"More," Jay gasped, and Bob shuddered.

*I have nothing to give
I have so much to lose
here in this lonely place*

Time passed as Bob worked fingers in and out of Jay. Slowly, slowly, 
the blond was relaxing, and his breathing was becoming more even. 
Bob was up to three fingers, and was just pushing in a forth, when 
Jay spoke again.

"Bob," he whispered.

Bob swallowed, looking up. Streetlights glittered over Jay's open 
eyes, staring at him. It made his eyes look nearly silver in the 
shadows.

"I need... somethin' else." Jay blinked slowly, Bob breathing in time 
to the eyelids falling, the lashes brushing the cheeks, the lids 
rising and revealing those strange silvered eyes.

"What?"

"You," he whsipered.

**What do you need me to--** Damn, there went his stomach again. He 
thought for sure he heard a clang when that fucker dropped out for 
the second time. There wasn't much more of this he could take.

"You..." He paused, swallowing again. "You want me to..." He couldn't 
even say it. What the hell were they doing? What the hell were they 
both doing?

"Repatterning," Jay said softly, turning over. Bob couldn't stop his 
eyes from tracing over Jay's skin, more of it than he'd ever seen 
before. Stripes of shadow and light crossed him diagonally from the 
blinds, revealing a nipple here, a smooth, nearly hairless slice of 
chest, a blond patch of curled hair, a slowly growing erection. He 
wrenched his eyes away.

Jay watched this, his eyes widening.

"You're... you don't want me. Shit, you don't fuck guys, how fuckin' 
stupid am *I*, man, I am so fuckin' sorry--"

Instinctively, Bob pulled him up, pulled him into an embrace, 
stroking his hand down his hair.

"Shhh," he said, feeling Jay tremble in his arms. Come on, words. 
Words would be good here.

But he had no words. He truly didn't know whether he wanted Jay or 
not. He'd never wanted a guy before, and he'd never let himself do 
more than think idle thoughts about the blond's long hair in his 
hands, about holding him. Like now, he thought, feeling Jay's 
trembling lessen. But how could he say any of that to a scared, 
traumatized child, desperately in need of reassurance? He couldn't. 
So as usual, he couldn't say anything.

Acting purely on instinct, now, knowing something had to happen, he 
tilted Jay's chin up, angling his lips down. It was meant to be a 
quick brush of lips against lips, a quick reassurance for all the 
words he couldn't say. It was meant to be innocent.

It wasn't. He never knew who inhaled first, who pressed against the 
other body first, but suddenly, Jay's hands were tangling in his 
clothes, and he was kissing Jay, kissing Jay for all he was worth, 
sending his tongue diving inside Jay's mouth to tangle with the other 
agile, warm muscle, tasting the tip of Jay's tongue and coming back 
for more. He wrapped his hand around Jay's neck, fingers ruffling 
through his hair, and was rewarded by Jay gasping, moaning against 
him.

Suddenly he pulled back, blinking, staring at Jay in shock. Jay was 
breathing hard, hands still pressed against Bob's chest, fingers 
tapping the downbeat of his pulse.

"What the *fuck*?" Jay said, gasping out the words.

Bob just shook his head, stunned.

"This always happen?" The blond still sounded breathless. 

Bob just shrugged. He had *no* clue, and at this point, didn't even 
want to hazard a guess.

Then Jay smiled. "Kiss me again," he said.

Bob shook his head. He could still feel Jay straining against him, 
and he didn't know why. He knew he wanted more of it, but Jay was so 
fragile right now. He didn't need some other idiot fucking him over 
like his stepdad had. He needed new experiences, layered... over... the...
old...

Light dawned, suddenly, and Bob nearly ran from the room. You want 
me to... he thought. Oh, man, this is fucked up. You want me... You want 
me.

Holy fuck, what the hell did he do now? He looked back at Jay, 
biting his lip, and Jay's smile grew.

*tangled up in our embrace
there's nothing I'd like
better than to fall*

The blond's hands moved with sure grace towards the zipper of Bob's 
sweatshirt, unzipping it while Bob was searching for neurons in his 
head that still worked. Jay's fingers moved to the t-shirt, pulling 
it over Bob's head, and Bob suddenly pulled away. He pulled the 
shirt off, but looked at Jay warily.

"Come on," Jay urged. "We gotta get you naked."

Shudders ripped through Bob, and Jay bounced on the bed, leaning over.

"C'mon," he said quickly. "It'll be good. You c'n fuck me silly, 
and I c'n like it, and I'll be all repatterned and shit."

"That's not how it works--" Bob started, and then broke off. He 
looked down. Oh, no, this is *not* happening. There was no *way* he 
could do this!

"What?"

Bob shook his head. Nothing. Don't ask, Jay, don't even ask.

"Aww, what, you hung like a midget or shit? Fuck, dude, you think I 
care? Hells, women been sayin' for years I'm on the small side, and 
like I care what *they* say--"

The blond reached for Bob's pants, pulling the waistband down, 
tugging at the waistband of the shorts beneath, and Bob tried to pull 
his hands away.

"Fuck that, man, I'm sittin' here in all my nakedidity, least *you* 
can do is join me an'--HOLY SHIT!"

The last two words were screamed as the Monster fell out. The 
Monster, having a perverse sense of the absurd, had been growing 
harder and harder with every word Jay spoke. It was easily the 
length of Jay's forearm, and half the diameter of one of Bob's 
wrists. Now it twitched upwards, tapping Jay's hands, and Bob 
swallowed, biting his lips again.

"Holy..." Jay breathed. "I'm gonna *die*."

Bob cringed, looking away, and Jay grabbed his face.

"Aw no, boy, you ain't getting' off that easy. We just gonna hafta 
get in*ven*tive and shit."

*but I fear
I have nothing to give*

And Jay moved, leaning down on the bed, looking at the Monster. The 
Monster tapped him on the chin impatiently.

"Yeah, yeah, calm down, big boy, you gonna get what you want." And 
Jay lipped the head of the Monster, pulled it in, sucking on the root 
of most of Bob's problems in life. Bob's eyes rolled back in his 
head, then Jay pulled off.

"Less clothes," he said somberly. "An' if I'm gonna break my jaw an' 
shit, you gotta lay down."

Carefully not thinking, Bob stripped, his dark eyes dazed. Jay 
looked at him, grinning, and tweaked his chin.

"Damn, I think I like you like this, all helpless an' everything." 
Jay pushed him down on the bed, pushed him flat, and straddled him. 
Bob gasped when their cocks touched, and Jay bucked forward, 
breathing hard.

"Maybe I like this better," he breathed, and bucked forward again. 
Bob's hands fastened on Jay's arms, pulling him down, pulling him 
flat against him, and kissed him again. That same moment of dazed 
incomprehension struck him, and then he drove his hips upward just as 
he drove his tongue into Jay's mouth, licking everything that had a 
pulse. Jay moaned against him, writhed on top of him, broke the kiss 
to scatter licks and nibbles down his broad chest, moving down, 
moving down as Bob's hips arched into empty air.

"Fuck yeah," he murmured against Bob's skin. "Fuck yeah, needed 
this, fuckin' needed this, needed you--" And those moving lips 
reached his cock again, and swallowed as much of him as they were 
able.

*I have so much to lose
I have nothing to give*

Bob panted, twitching, eyes crossing as Jay sucked him in, sucked him 
hard. A spasm crossed his features--pain? Need? He was never sure, 
later... and he knew he had to do something. His mouth wet with the 
thought of what, he leaned forward, grabbing one of Jay's arms.

"What the--fuck you, man, I'm *busy* here--"

Bob shook his head, pulling Jay into the new position, swinging his 
hips and his legs over his head by impatient force. He parted Jay's 
legs, grabbed his cock, and guided it into his mouth.

Oh. Yeah. That's what he wanted. Not thinking beyond this moment, 
not thinking beyond this one sweet, straining moment in time, he 
licked and lapped and lipped Jay, sucking him in and swirling his 
tongue over every surface he could. Jay was shrieking and writhing 
on top of him, breathing hot air over his cock when he couldn't 
fasten his mouth to suck, then remembering and plunging his open 
mouth down over the Monster once more. The on-again off-again nature 
of the blowjob was making him nearly lose consciousness.

Then Jay pulled away, cursing, climbing up his body like a monkey, 
straddling his face.

"Fuck can't wait fuck don't stop fuck can't I can't I can't--"

He bucked against Bob's open lips, and Bob sucked him in, sucked all 
of him in he could, and Jay grabbed the headboard, thrusting in and 
out of Bob's mouth. Bob felt his thighs trembling, and fastened his 
hands on Jay's hips, feeling the tremors running through the skin.

"Fuck!" he screamed. "Bob! Yeah, Bob, yeah, yeah, YEAH!" 
Shuddering, Jay came, filling Bob's mouth with salty fluid. Bob 
nearly smiled, swallowing, and was pleasantly surprised. The taste 
of Jay was nothing that he'd expected. Salty, yes, but the faint 
citrus overtones, and the sharp electric tang, that was nothing he'd 
ever read about. He swallowed all he could, Jay shuddering over the 
sounds as well as the sensations, before Jay pulled his softening 
cock away.

"Fuck, dude..." Jay shivered, curling up next to him. "You never done 
that before?"

Bob shrugged, shaking his head.

"Well, shit. You're a fuckin' natural."

Then a wicked expression crossed his face. "Aww, but we left you all 
alone," he said, looking down at the other end of the bed where the 
Monster still waited, pointing at the sky. Then he trembled, looking 
back at Bob.

"You think... you think you can... fuck me?"

Bob sat up, spilling Jay onto the other side of the bed. He shook 
his head violently.

"Aww, c'mon, man, you got lube."

**There's not enough lube in the universe."

Jay looked up at him, laying his head on Bob's thigh. One hand 
grabbed the Monster, fingers stroking it idly, and Bob shivered.

"Please? I... need you. I need you, *in* me... You unnerstan' that at 
all?"

This was another moment, he thought, reaching for the lube, where 
thinking about something would only cock him up. Carefully, he lubed 
his fingers up, beginning to open Jay for the ultimate invasion, 
working first one, then two, then three fingers in and out of the 
boy. He moved a fourth inside, minutes slowly scrolling by while Jay 
twitched under his hands.

Then Jay decided he'd help by leaning over, licking up and down the 
length of him, and Bob gasped, his arm twitching forward. Suddenly 
Jay had all of Bob's fingers in him, deep, up to the knuckle ridge, 
and he broke off, crying out.

Immediately, Bob pulled his hand free, checking for tears, but Jay 
didn't let him. He scrambled atop Bob, chanting something under his 
breath, and positioned himself over the head of Bob's cock. Before 
Bob could stop him, he'd driven himself down on the tip, grabbing it 
with both hands and pulling Bob into him.

They both froze, Jay with his mouth hanging open, his eyes wider than 
Bob had ever seen them. And Bob was frozen, fighting the urge to 
grab Jay's hips hard enough to bruise, and drive up into the boy, 
possess him utterly, pull him down tight against his pelvis. His 
hands twitched at Jay's side, and Jay giggled breathily.

"Never felt nothin' like that, have ya, big boy?"

Bob just blinked at him. Jay leaned forward.

"C'mon, Bob. C'mon in. Come fuck me."

With a shudder, Jay unclenched, as much as he was able, and his eyes 
crossed. He reached down, grabbed Bob around the waist, and pulled, 
sliding Bob into him. Both men screamed, arching off the bed, as Jay 
got a good two inches more inside him before he clenched again.

"Ohfuck, ohfuck, ohfuck, ohfuck," Jay chanted again. 

Yeah. Like that, Bob thought. Shit, how do I get myself into these 
situations? And inch by inch, Jay was ruining him. No woman would 
ever be as tight as Jay, no other partner would ever be as willing, 
no one would ever do it for him past this point. He looked up, 
seeing Jay's flushed face, the lips trembling, the eyes clenched 
shut. You little fuck, he thought. Did you know you were addictive?

He grabbed Jay's hips again, pulling him off by an inch or so, 
pulling his legs farther apart as Jay hissed air thorugh his teeth. 
Then he pulled Jay's hips down, down, sliding in as slowly as he 
could, filling Jay completely. He pushed in about halfway before Jay 
screamed again, shuddering, and he felt hot fluid jet onto his belly.

"Again?" he asked, looking up. Jay looked embarrassed.

"Sorry. I was watching your face, and... shit, dude, you're so fuckin' 
hot. I couldn't help it."

Now Bob's eyes crossed slightly. `So fuckin' hot.' Him? Man, talk 
about your keep-you-hard-at-night compliments. One hand stroked up 
Jay's chest, the other wrapped around an arm, pulling him forward, 
kissing him again. It hurt, he was being bent in a really strange 
position, but he needed Jay's lips again.

Then he released Jay, rolling over and pinning the boy beneath him. 
Jay's eyes grew wide gain.

"Uh... Bob... what're you...?"

"Shhh," Bob said, and spread Jay's legs as wide as he could.

"Bob, you're... this is a little too fuckin' much like..."

Bob looked down at him, eyes blazing, mouth nearly smiling.

"Repatterning, remember?"

"Repatterning. Yeah." Jay gulped, breathing hard. "Yeah. Okay."

"Okay." And with one slow, driving thrust, he entered Jay, not 
stopping until he was completely inside. Jay went from watching him, 
to breathing hard, to shuddering, to flailing, and now was screaming, 
tossing his head from side to side, bucking against him hard and 
fast. He pulled out by a couple of inches, thrusting back in, little 
mini-thrusts that were deranging him. But he didn't dare completely 
pull out, he'd rip Jay in half.

Tension built in both of them again, and Jay kept opening his eyes, 
fastening them on Bob's face. He was sweating, his eyes wide, his 
mouth open and panting, and then he'd close his eyes again, tossing 
his head back and forth on the pillow. Bob just thrust in, slowly at 
first, then, when Jay relaxed, a little harder, a little faster. 
Soon he was thrusting in and out of Jay, sending six inches in and 
out of him at a time.

"Bob yeah, fuck Bob yeah, fuck me, fuck me, hard yeah, hard yeah, 
love it, love this, love what you do to me Bob--"

And Bob's hands clenched on either side of Jay's head. He looked 
down, watching the blond's face, seeing the blond open his eyes to 
look at him again.

"Ready?" he gasped.

"Fuck, yeah."

Bob picked up speed, thrusting hard, thrusting fast, and felt the 
tension build. Going to come. Going to come. Going to fill Jay 
with come. The image made him spasm, and Bob thrust in for the last 
time, hips lifting Jay off the bed, and came in that instant, 
spurting for an eternity into the blond's tight heat. Jay screamed 
again, shuddering, clutching him, clawing his sides, tossing his head 
back. Bob ran a finger down Jay's exposed throat, leaning forward to 
kiss it as he slowly pulled out, and Jay whimpered, holding Bob 
tightly for a moment.

It took both of them a few minutes to recover, notice such external 
things as sweat drying on their skin, chill in the air, and the state 
of their exhaustion. Bob started to leave the room, and Jay held 
onto him.

"Don't go."

Bob turned slightly, looking at his roommate. Why not?

"Want you here." He stared into Bob's face, searching it for 
something. He shrugged. "Or, fuck, we can go sleep in your bed, I 
don't fuckin' care. But... I want you next to me tonight. Keep the 
nightmares away," he added as an afterthought.

Bob just held him, stroking his hair again, pulling a blanket up to 
cover them both. But he wondered, as the blond slipped into slow, 
even breathing, what this had done to Jay. Had it helped? Had it 
hurt him? Had *he* hurt him?

And what was this going to do to the friendship, he thought, before 
sleep claimed him at last.

*We have so much to lose*

END
(Song is Sarah McLachlan's "Fear")
*****
Kelandris the Mad
one, two, three, let's call it a game