Title: Centerfold
Author: Joy (marcyleecorgan@yahoo.com)
Summary: Bob reminisces.
Rating: PG-13, for now
Archive: Charles' archive, and anyone else can ask. Nicely.
Disclaimer: The boys belong to Kevin Smith, the song belongs to the J. Geils Band.
Notes: Oh look. A songfic. :) "Centerfold", by the J. Geils Band. This has not gone through a 
beta, so forgive obvious glaring errors. This is also a product of being snowed in for two days 
and counting... As for the # Challenge, c'mon, we can make 666 by Xmas!

***

The broad figure easily avoided contact, swinging through the holiday crowds. He toted along 
several large department store bags, filled to the brim. He peeked down at the sweaters and toys, 
smiling to himself. Next stop, the homeless shelter down the street.

Sometimes his address took a heavy toll on his heart. The rent was manageable, but the 
neighborhood left a lot of things to be desired. Sometimes he wished he could make a place in 
his family again, to get away from the nightly gunfights or the crying children. But this was 
his life now--isolationist, lonely, desperate. He knew, though, that seeing the smiles on 
Christmas Day would be worth an entire year of wanting to scream angrily.

He briskly moved past the newsstand kiosk, nodding at the proprietor. Then a thought occured to 
him. He deserved at least one present for himself. Just a stocking stuffer, only a few dollars' 
worth. He stepped in under the canopy, and drew himself up, mentally strengthening.

The owner hardly blinked as he handed over the plastic-encased magazine, taking the change 
without even counting it.

"Merry Christmas, sir."

He nodded in response, tucking his chin under to indicate reciprocation. Then he scurried down 
the sidewalk, quickly shoving his own present inside his worn-gray trenchcoat as he presented 
the gift bags to the shelter's secretary-volunteer.

When he finally wrestled the key into his door and flopped down on the couch, the plastic under 
his weight. Slowly, he drew the magazine out, peeling the wrap with his teeth and letting the 
taste of plastic coat his tongue for one moment.

Then he was flipping past the articles, over the letters, and the pages fell open to the middle. 
One hand was on auto-pilot, already undoing his zipper, coating himself with saliva when he 
stopped.

And stared. Jay...? What was... Jay...?

The boy, for he still looked too young to be a man, looked just as skinny as he had been in high 
school. He was draped over a white sheet, staring out a window into sunlight, catching in his 
long, impish hair.

"Oh.... Jay." Hand was gripping tighter than he realized, and he gave a quick stroke, just to 
assure himself he hadn't gone numb. Anything above his groin was frozen, full attention drawn to 
the glossy photograph.

He knew it was Jay, all right. The hair was obvious. But there were subtle details. Like the 
faint scar right above the hipbone, where airbrushing failed to capture the shadows of slightly 
pitted flesh. He shuddered as he remembered.

~Wiping his forehead with a towel, still steaming from the showers. Turning to see the boy forced 
to his knees by one of the football players. Biting back a growling moan as he saw how 
professionally the boy handled cock. Seeing the bright flash, watching silently as the boy
expertly avoided the knife to the gut, twisting so he only caught it in the hip. Flying forward, 
his bulk crushing down better than any homecoming tackle.~

His breath let out explosively, and he shook his head, trying to free himself of the memory. He 
carefully placed the magazine on the side table, closing it. It was obvious the universe was 
determined to force him to realize facts. Too many years had gone by without trying to find the 
broken trail his confused first love had left, too afraid to face the truth.

Standing up and pocketing his keys again, he was off. Off to find Jay.

***
no one could ever stain the memory
of my angel could never cause me pain
years go by i'm looking through a girlie magazine
and there's my homeroom angel
on the pages in between
***