Title: Going to Golgotha Author: Kelandris the Mad Fandom: View Askewniverse Pairing: Jay/Silent Bob Rating: NC-17 Status: New (as in, posted earlier, reposted January 13, 2003) 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: Here we go again. Collect the complete set: "Out of the Rain", "Can't Afford to Pay the Rent", "Inhabited", "Pleasure of Your Company", "Hell to Raise", "Another Cross to Bear", and now this one. Damn thing is getting more religious as I go on. Here I thought I was doing a clever play on Frostbite Falls turf. Oh, well. Disclaimers: To the best of my recollection, this is intended as a work of satire and/or fannish devotion, with no more weight against the Powers that Be than a feather. I make no direct income from these stories and I explicitly reserve all rights to all View Askew characters to Kevin Smith, View Askew Productions, Jason Mewes and Scott Mosier. Notes: Halfway through writing this, I transferred everything I'd written over to the next story, and created save files for two others, which I'm hoping won't be necessary. I still don't know what Anya told Bob about Tony (doesn't that fucking SUCK? You have any ideas, send 'em to the address above) so I'm really making this up as I go along. As opposed to just generally making it up, being the writer and all. :> Also, to get the next story going, I think I've accessed every Russian language site on the web, and also learned a little on my own. Do not use my example, I am an obsessive- compulsive With Issues.) Summary: Bob returns to the old homestead...more or less. The grand plan is to try and save Tony, who I guarantee you, won't appreciate it. Warnings: For this, not that much. Break between sections of pain and chaos. Some deep tissue action, some more abandoned moans, some more frustration and confusion on either side, followed by happy naked boys. All prologue for the morrow. "Going to Golgotha" by Kelandris The phone rang. Bob looked at the phone with dread, looking back at his new-found blond companion. "What?" Jay said. Bob shook his head, knowing he couldn't explain it if he tried. He walked from the strange red bathroom of the motel room, to the table between the two beds. He picked up the handset of the phone. "Hello?" "Prostovya," said the voice on the other end of the phone. It was Anya. "Anya," he said. She'd done it. And that same night. The sense of foreboding he'd had turned palpable. He waited, silent on the phone. She wouldn't wait long. He was right. She didn't. "Go back to New Jersey. I'm sending Antonin around with a car. He'll drive you to Da." There were words he wanted to say, words that welled up against his lips, nearly forcing them open with their heavy leaden weight. He fought them back, sighing, and their weight dragged them down again. **Da, I'd like you to meet Jay, former prostitute and soon to be my roommate, I think. Maybe my lover if I completely lose my mind. Jay, meet my father, who splits control of the New Jersey drug and gun trafficking with the Italians.** Oh, yeah. That would go over wonderfully. "Anya, we really need a night." Now it was her turn to sigh. "I know. I tell you what, brother darling--Antonin's here now, but I'll send him off on the Newark run, okay? He won't be back until ten tomorrow, and that's *if* he drives fast." "Okay." A night wasn't much, but they could recharge a little. Man, was it only two days ago he'd found Jay in New York? Shit, it felt like they'd been on the run for forever. **On the run...Shit.** He scowled, shaking his head. Anya twitted him for his silence, and he responded back in kind, and soon hung up the phone after a brief exchange of insults. He lay back on the bed. He was tired to his bones, and it didn't look like it was going to get easier for a while. And Jay was looking at him. *well it's 3 a.m. I'm out here driving again through the wicked winding streets of my world* "What?" he asked softly. "So what's the fucking deal? The gang back there with the big guns, and that chick huggin' on you, and what was that about 'we need a night'?" All good questions. Bob pillowed his head on his hands, staring at the cream-colored ceiling. Yellow walls in here, red in the bathroom; was there any place in this building that wasn't some odd non-white color? He felt the bed sink slightly under Jay's weight, and after a moment, had his arms full of warm, wondering blond. For once, he didn't mind, running his fingers through Jay's long hair, feeling him arch against his hands. He opened his mouth and words, unbidden, spilled out. "Is there anything to this?" "To what?" Bob pulled his hands away from Jay. **Shit.** "This," he said, gesturing towards Jay, towards himself. "What we have going...whatever it is. Is there anything more to this than...what? What is it?" "You're a fuckin' freak, you know that? Everything in your world gotta have a meaning?" **Maybe,** he thought. **Maybe you do. Maybe you need to.** But aloud, he said only yes. *I take a wrong turn break it but I'm too far gone I've got a siren on my tale And that's not the fine I'm looking for* "Huh." Jay turned on his side and propped his head up on his elbow. "Well, how 'bout...fuck, but you're hot when you wanna be, and let's get back to the kissin', huh?" Bob shook his head, moving away. He got off the bed, cracking his neck from side to side, and moved to the minimal desk/table, dialing the front desk. He scheduled a wake-up call at eight the following morning, complete with cab pick-up. Then he started organizing the boxes and bags so they'd be more or less out of the way. Jay snorted. "Fuck, just leave it." He grabbed his crotch, kneeling on the bed, and tossed his long blond hair over his shoulder. "Baby, just come back to *bed*..." Bob's expression darkened. "You should come with a warning label," he muttered. "I heard that," Jay said. **Of course you did.** Bob sighed again, closing his eyes and rubbing the bridge of his nose. Fuck, but he was tired. It seemed like a solid month had passed between his leaving New York, the boy in tow, and now. Maybe time was spinning out on him, and it really had been a month. *I see a stairway so I follow it down into the belly of a whale where my secrets echo all around* He knelt down next to a black case, opening it and letting his fingers wander over packed t-shirts and sweats. Did he even want to take a shower surrounded by red tile? Shit, he could walk in there and slit both wrists and fling the blood around the room, and the mirror would be the only thing that would notice. He shook his head, blinking, shaking the image away. That'd been too creepy. He'd thought... No. Had to be tired. That was all. Tired and overstressed and confused by it all. Shit. Another year of this and he'd feel forty before he ever knew it, fifty even. All this fucking stress... He inhaled sharply, then, because hands were on his shoulders. Hands attached to very long, very nimble fingers, fingers that ran up and down his neck, then moved to his shoulders, rubbing the knotted muscles. "Shit, boy, you need to re*lax*," Jay said softly. **Don't I know,** Bob thought miserably. Aloud, he only groaned slightly. "Right," said the blond. "Fuck your ethics. Get on that bed." "What?" Jay hauled him up by one arm and looked him in the eye. "Babe, I already had you, if you don't recall. An' I know how to do it again. I ain't askin' for that this time. But you keep this up your heart's gonna pop or some shit, an' like I need *that* on toppa everythin' else..." Bob blinked. Blond boy had a point. Still feeling dazed, he walked over to the bed, stripping down to shorts. He looked over his shoulder. "Fuck, you gettin' *modest* on me? Think I missed seein' your shit?" Jay shook his head. That made Bob grin, and he shucked off his boxers, laying face down on the bed. *you know me now but to do better than that you've got to follow me boy, I'm trying to show you where I'm at* "Thass better," Jay murmured, straddling him. For a moment he just rested his hands on Bob's hips, then he began to move, running his thumbs up either side of Bob's spine. He reached the shoulders and the hands branched out, rubbing and kneading the tension away. He hummed now and again under his breath, nothing Bob could catch, and slowly, Bob began to relax. Shit, this was nearly better than sex, he thought, closing his eyes. *Jay's face over his, forehead knotted with effort, eyes shining. He'd fallen into a good rhythm, poling his length in and out of Bob, the sound of flesh slapping flesh loud in the room, the air heated by their exhalations and their sweat.* *"Yeah, baby, yeah, yeah, fuck you hard, yeah, you want this, you want this..."* *"Yes, yes, *please*--" he moaned. "Fuck me, God, fuck me harder, *harder*--"* *He moved the hands that had been untied, pulling at the blond so he could capture those lips again, suck on his tongue, dance patterns across his salty skin while Jay fucked him, fucked him, fucked him--* Bob shuddered, trying not to moan aloud. Jay changed the tempo, moved his hands up to ruffle through his hair. "Sorry," he murmured, and moved his hands slowly down the back of Bob's neck, the fingertips kneading along the flesh. Bob felt like he was melting into the mattress; nothing should feel this good. Well, few things did, save for a certain blond-haired ex-whore...He clenched his eyes shut for a moment. Fuck, he *hoped* ex-whore. He hadn't seemed too thrilled about getting off the game, though, had he? "Gettin' tense again, pretty boy," Jay murmured, leaning down against Bob. He felt the brush of that wheat-sheaf gold hair along his skin, like electricity sparking along his nerves. Gently, Jay kissed the nape of his neck and he shivered. Then Jay shifted his weight, moving his hands back down the spine to his lower back, kneading along his hips, pressing the tips of his fingers deep into his padded flesh. *hey pretty don't you want to take a ride with me? through my world* Bob blinked slowly, breathing slower. This did not feel good, this really *hurt*. But he noticed a moment before he would have complained, Jay's hands moved away, or rubbed the surface skin, grown hot from the deep tissue work. And he felt those muscles unkink and release, muscles he'd never even noticed had knotted up on him. Jay found all the places he was hurting, it seemed, and rubbed or pressed all those hurts away. Damn. He was good at this. Tension bled out of him, and he sighed, a long, slow exhalation. He went completely limp, even his eyes closing, and followed Jay's progress only by touch. And everywhere he touched was starting to feel very good. The blond's humming picked up tempo, then slowed down again, and then Jay touched his hip, pushing it up as he lifted off Bob. "C'mon," he said. "Turn over." Turn--no. "I, um, don't think that would be a--" "Shut the fuck up and turn over, okay?" Bob fought back a grin. He sounded so irritated. Okay. He turned over and lay on his back, his palms flat against the bedspread. He closed his eyes again, as Jay began to rub his arms, working from the shoulders down to the fingertips, concentrating on relaxing his entire body. He started rubbing Bob's right shoulder, kneading whatever tension was left far, far away. His hands trailed down, moving in spiral patterns, down his arms to his hands. There he picked his hand up, massaging Bob's wrist, the palm and finally each finger, rolling them in his grasp until Bob sighed out again. This was very odd, but very comforting. This, he could happily deal with. No questions, no commentary, even his brain was relaxing. Man, he thought, he'd been missing out all these years. He should have been going to massage clinics. There was something so...so...safe, about this. That was it. Being touched like this, being touched by warm hands stroking over only slightly less warm skin, made him feel safe, and held, and protected. So why did this not bother him, and yet, having sex with Jay hurt him like little else? *Sudden flash: ice-blond hair on a painfully lean child's frame, as the head under the hair burrowed into his sweatshirt, crying as if everything in his world was gone, never to return.* Okay. Fine. There was that. History of bad abuse, history of it not getting better, the reason, in fact, Bob had found him in New York in the first place. But Jay had grown up in the interim. Hadn't he? *flash of the dark alley, flash of the swagger and the loose-boned grace, and the emptiness in the eyes. Jay had seen him as just another trick. Another way to make rent that week. Nothing more. Certainly nothing...special.* Was that what was bothering him? Two days with the boy and he wanted to get married? Two days and that was it, he was ready to throw Trin out, throw out everything else just for this kid? Or maybe it was just that terrible emptiness in his eyes... *hey pretty don't you want to kick and slide with me through my world* Jay leaned over him, the tips of his hair tickling across Bob's chest. Oh, no. He'd been willing to swear there was no part of him that could possibly be tense just now. And now here Jay was, lovely, sex-mad Jay, proving Bob wrong. Working from the shoulder down, Jay was diligently rubbing his muscles in small circles. Shoulder, upper arm, down to the elbow. Fingers moving in circular patterns, turning the arm, lifting it. And all the while Jay's strands of silken gold were brushing across Bob's nipples, the tips twining through the dark tufts of chest hair. Bob stopped breathing. "Baby," Jay said softly. "You're getting tense again." Then his gaze was drawn to Bob's growing erection, standing purple and impatient between his thighs. **Okay. Okay. Calm down. We don't need a repeat of this morning. Just breathe, Robert, breathe and relax and--** Jay ran a finger down his cock, from the fluttering moist slit at the tip, to the point where his pulse beat the strongest at the base. Bob hissed air through his teeth and Jay stroked his fingers across his forehead. "Man, you sure are fuckin' pretty," he whispered. **Shit. *Shit.* Here we go again...** He bit his lip, opening his eyes, catching a rueful expression on Jay's face. He would have loved to know why, but right now he wanted something else a bit more. He leaned up, wrapping strong arms around the blond and pulled him down on top of his chest. Jay started to giggle. He tilted Jay;s head up, staring into those stormy, sea-blue eyes, and then kissed him. Jay's giggles cut off abruptly, changing into moans. Bob felt as if he'd been set on fire--every inch of skin was burning, aching to be touched. And Jay obliged him--one long-fingered hand wrapped around his cock, pumping it in time with his heartbeat, and the other slid around the back of his neck, the fingers twining in the soft dark hair. Jay kissed him, quickly taking charge, plundering Bob's mouth with his agile, dancing tongue. Then he pulled back. Even the hand on Bob's cock stopped pumping. He stared at Bob, staring into his dark espresso eyes, breathing hard and furrowing his brow. "Fuck, I want you," he said hoarsely. *well I've got a mind full of wicked designs I've got a non-stop hole in my head* Bob shuddered, licking his lips. **Please, fuck me--please please please just fuck me--just flip my legs in the air and *take* me, man...*Fuck*...*me*...** It took nearly every ounce of willpower he had not to babble all of it into Jay's pink shell ears. Jay was still looking at him. "I'm so fuckin' hard right now..." He still spoke in that stunned, hoarse voice, and his breathing picked up speed as he pulled back, sitting up. "But I c'n...I c'n stop, if you want," he said. His eyes were fixed on this precise point between Bob's chest and Bob's eyes, about mid- neck. Bob felt as if his brains had been gently stirred by a swizzle- stick--everything was shifting and wasn't falling easily back into place. **Stop?** he thought. **Dear God, why stop?** He'd die if they stopped. His heart would explode. Or his dick. Or something. *imagination I can't forget I am a sole architect I built the shadows here I built the growl in the voice I fear* He inhaled, a long, slow, shuddering breath, looking at Jay. All his rationalizations tumbled through his agitated head, bits of ticker- tape thrown with great force. Yeah, they could stop. Because that was what he wanted, wasn't it? Or it was what he *had* wanted, before the massage. Before realizing how wonderful Jay's hands felt on his skin. Oh, God... Jay must have been watching all of this play across his face, because he sighed and nodded. "Yeah, safe stuff," he whispered. "I know, you tol' me already." And he scooted down the bed, away from Bob's nipples, hard enough to etch glass; away from Bob's cock, hard enough to carve through that glass. **Oh, no, that's not what I--** Bob inhaled slowly. **Breathe, damn it.** His cock bobbed impatiently while Jay positioned himself. He pulled Bob's feet into his lap. **What the hell--?** Jay began rubbing. And just like that, Bob was giggling. He tried to stop, but he just couldn't help it. This oversexed jagged fractured beautiful blond boy thought he was playing it *safe* by rubbing Bob's *feet*! Fuck, hadn't he seen Pulp Fiction? And he couldn't stop. It began in giggles, progressed to laughter, cascaded into full-body bed-slapping howls. Jay looked puzzled at first, then irritated, then outright angry--then, slowly, slowly, a grim warmed his face, like spring sunrise. "So you don't want me to rub your feet?" he asked softly. Bob blinked a moment, staring at him, and then, he nearly fell off the bed laughing. He waggled a finger in Jay's direction, incapable of speech, clinging to the bed in hysterical desperation. Jay mock- snarled at him, and pounced, tickling his sides. After a few moments, he was laughing too, and they were both rolling around on the bed, laughing like five-year-olds. For endless minutes they held each other, laughing until their sides hurt. Occasionally Bob pulled away, pointing at his feet, pointing at Jay, but he never managed to stop laughing long enough to get a full sentence out. Jay seemed to take it all in stride, giggling like a madman, and finally, Bob managed to calm down. And once he did, he realized he had a very happy, if very confused, boy in his arms. **Oh, I'm going to regret this later,** he thought. But what the fuck, right? What the fuck. Morals and standards couldn't exist in the vacuum he was in, the vacuum left by his sister's words about Tony. His eyes glittering with tears of departing laughter, he reached out for Jay, tongued his mouth open, and plunged his tongue inside, reeling a little with the sensation of it. His hands dove for Jay's waistband, unsnapping and pulling down the jeans, the briefs beneath them. And now there was an expression in Jay's eyes--they weren't empty shallow waiting spaces anymore. He was confused, and a little giddy, and a little startled, but his eyes were alive with his presence. Still giggling a little, Bob pulled back, wiping tears from his face, shaking his head. "Oh...man," he gasped, struggling to keep the smile from maniacal grin territory. He pulled Jay back into his arms to kiss, and now the confusion was wearing off, because suddenly Jay jerked away from him, shucking off his jeans and briefs and socks and diving back against him, thrusting against his hips while his mouth captured a still-hard nipple. Bob arched off the bed and Jay tongued warm, wet kisses across his chest, down over his belly, down to his throbbing cock. "What the fuck, huh?" Jay asked, one corner of his mouth quirking. **Yeah. Yeah. What the fuck--** And Jay's mouth was swallowing him, his head moving down over him, engulfing him whole. He sucked him in, sucked Bob *hard*, and Bob bit his lips, moaning in earnest now. *you know me now but to do better than that you've got to follow me boy, I'm trying to show you where I'm at* **Mary, Mother of God, pray for us sinners,** he thought hysterically. Jay swiveled around, and Bob looked over, seeing long, supple legs and bony knees at his shoulders. And Jay's thin, sharply-veined cock bobbing at chin level. **Holy *fuck*, yes!** He leaned forward, licking along the pulsing vein, earning a scream from the boy at his waist. He wasn't sure he could concentrate well enough to do this properly, but he was for damn sure going to try. And he swallowed Jay, pulled his cock into his mouth, and listened as Jay began to gasp around him, twitching. **Good answer,** he thought, dazed from it all. And Jay's mouth sped up, his tongue swirling in insane patterns, and pleasure sheeted over Bob's vision. He was reduced to the taste of salt and Jay, electric citrus tang of warm male skin, and the feeling of incredible suction capturing his cock. He tried to pull back, tried to calm himself, but his hips kept jerking forward, wanting to fuck something, anything, any willing orifice. Jay giggled breathily, pulling off, pulling away with a popping sound. He knelt on the bed. "Baby," he breathed. "I gotta fuck you." Oh, God. If the room had lit on fire in that moment, he couldn't have walked away. That phrase turned major parts of his skeleton to jelly. He shuddered on the bed, blinking, watching as Jay lifted his legs in the air, positioned himself between Bob's cheeks, rubbing against him. Oh, God. Wait. No. Not again. He didn't think he could survive two periods of total, abasing abandon in the same day. Something must have shown in his eyes, because Jay tilted his head to one side, biting his lips. He looked down, breathing unsteadily. "Fuck, man, I'd say...*you* fuck me, 'cause I want you in me, baby, but.fuck, dude. You'd *kill* me with that thing." Bob pulled his ankles from Jay's grasp, sitting up. "Not if I go slow," he gasped, leaning forward. Oh, he was so hard he *hurt*. And he wanted to feel Jay, once and for all, wanted to be inside the boy, filling him, filling him completely. Shivering a little, Jay lay down, and then turned his face away. "Oh man, oh man, oh man..." he kept saying. Bob placed a hand on his knee, and Jay jackknifed up, launching himself off the bed. He found the big army surplus bag he'd brought with him, and rummaged through it at speed. "WherethefuckisitdamnitIknowIhaditfuckfuckfuckfuckfuck--" Then he stood up, holding something in his hand, and grinned back at Bob over his shoulder. He held up the bottle of lube that he'd found in Tony's apartment. "Jay!" Bob said. His mouth fell open. "*Now* we ready," Jay said smugly, tossing him the tube. By the time he was flat on the bed, though, he was back to shivering slightly and looking nervous. "You better be fuckin' careful, dude," he whispered. Jay's eyes shone like stars. Bob nearly dropped the bottle. But he managed to flip the cap, pouring a generous dollop into his hand, which he began to work over the skin of his cock. Damn, this would've been a great time for a drugstore run-- "Almost forgot," Jay said. He held up a square foil packet. Beauty. Bob smiled, taking the packet, tearing it open and smoothing the condom over his lube-slick cock. It was a little tight, and he was actually glad he'd lubed up first. He poured more lube into his palm and slid a finger into Jay, and to both their surprise, it slid right in, no effort at all. Jay arched off the bed, nearly screaming, and Bob couldn't stand it anymore. *hey pretty don't you want to take a ride with me? through my world hey pretty don't you want to kick and slide with me through my world* He leaned forward, lifting Jay's legs--no *way* was he doing this without watching Jay's eyes--and slowly lined himself up between the boy's cheeks, pushing against the fluttering hole. Pressure increased; he knew his grimace reflected Jay's, and he felt the blond's hands skittering over his chest. He licked his lips, smoothing a hand down Jay's cheek. "It'll be okay," he said softly. "Relax. Trust me." "Okay," the blond breathed. "Fuck. Okay." With a pop that was nearly audible, the tip of his cock slid inside Jay. Bob watched him inhale, his blue eyes wider now, darker, and Bob slid his hand down to his chest. "Relax," he said again. "Don't tense up." "Fuck," Jay whispered. "So...God...you're *big*..." Carefully, he slid in, inch by slow inch, while Jay shuddered underneath him. Slow, inexorable taking, driving them both mad; no thrusting, just constant, slow, steady movement. In moments, he was buried to the hilt in a place he'd only dreamed of, vaguely and inconsistently. Jay, meanwhile, threw his head back and began babbling things at speed. It didn't sound like his usual slick whore's patter. It sounded like begging. Ardent, from the heart, abject begging. Bob assumed the words were in English, but frankly, he was concentrating more on the hot, warm feeling of being gripped by glove- softness, glove-tightness...and then Jay's legs wrapped around his hips, pulling him in, pulling him deeper, and he was gone. Thrust and repeat became the total focus of his world. He held Jay's ankles high, dipping occasionally to suck on his lips, nibble on his ears, before pulling back and thrusting again. Soft at first, then harder, and his Jay was loving every minute of it, his nimble fingers urging Bob on. Fuck, and that babble, that hoarse, raspy voice calling his name, it danced like lightning up and down his spine. God, he wasn' going to last long. He wanted this to take hours, days maybe, he didn' want to ever stop plunging his cock in and out of that sweet narrow ass...breathing hard, he leaned in again to kiss Jay, and Jay captured his face with his hands. "Baby, I'm gonna come," he whispered. "I can't, I can't, it's too good, you're too fuckin' good, oh, God, God, I'm gonna--I'm gonna--" And he threw his head back, releasing Bob, in time to grip his cock roughly, pumping it quick and hard. Bob thrust in, his hips bucking forward, and just after he felt Jay splash warm, sticky fluid across their bellies, he came, crying out, crying Jay's name, twitching inside the latex barrier between them. He gasped, his hips jerking forward again, and Jay groaned deeply, tossing his head from side to side. "Fuck," he gasped, over and over again. "Fuck. Fuck!" Yeah. As slowly as he could, Bob pulled out, earning whimpers from them both. He pulled off the rubber, tying it off with a practiced twist, and walked into the red bathroom to throw it away. He ran some warm water into the sink, moistening a towel and quickly cleaning himself off. Shit, he was still half-hard. Tired, yeah, exhausted, yeah, but still...Shit. They *had* to get some sleep. No more playtime. He shut off the water and walked back in, and spent some time wiping their commingled fluids from Jay's lower body, Jay watching him in something that felt uncomfortably like awe. "What?" he finally asked. "Nothin'." He shrugged, looking down, running a hand down his leg. "It's just that, no one ever done that before. Cleaned me up an' all." Well. What the hell do you say to that? "Oh," he said. **Yeah, Bob, real fucking original. Jesus.** But Jay just nodded, laying back on the bed. Bob rose, tossing the towel into the sink, and came back, looking around for a t-shirt. "What the fuck you doin'?" Jay asked after a moment. "Looking for a--" "Fuck that. Come to bed." Bob blinked, then shrugged, walking to the other bed and folding the covers down. "You brain-dead or something?" "What?" "Bed. Over. Here. Dipshit," Jay said, enunciating clearly between each word. He scooted over, tapping the empty side of the bed. Oh. For a moment that chiaroscuro spiral of doubts and obligations and restrictions poured through his tired mind, all the shouldn'ts and wouldn'ts and don'ts. He shrugged again. **Fuck it.** Clicking off the light, he climbed into bed next to Jay, turning over on his side. Jay immediately curled up behind him, throwing an arm over. The hand drifted until it came to rest on his belly, and out of habit, he lifted it, placing it around his chest. "What?" Jay asked sleepily. "Nothing, I, just, I..." Bob trailed off. He'd never had to explain this before. He wasn't sure he could. There was silence for a moment. Then Jay leaned up, leaned over, put his lips close to Bob's ear. "You think I fucked the hell outta you when we woke up, and let you fuck the hell outta me now, and I got a thing against your bod? Are you nuts?" "I--no, I--it's just--" **Fuck!** Now he was stammering, and felt like a complete idiot, and of course that's what he had thought, he suddenly realized, because with the exception of Tony, long ago and far away, everyone else he'd dated had been close to his size. So there hadn't been the esteem issues, had there? But Jay...fuck, Jay was long and lithe and pretty and limber, all the things Bob wasn't, and it did weird things to his head. In fact-- Jay chuckled next to his ear. "You fuckin' think too much. I like your belly. Deal with it, fat man." And he curled up behind Bob, face nuzzled against him, his soft exhalations dancing across the sensitive skin on the back of his neck. Twitching a little, swallowing, he slowly relaxed again enough to sleep. Just before he passed out, Jay's arm snaked around him again, resting on his belly. **Okay,** he thought. **Fine.** Yeah. More than fine, if he wanted to stick around. In fact... ...and Bob was asleep. *hey pretty my pretty baby rock it through my world can't you feel me longing?* END (Song is Poe's "Hey Pretty" off Haunted) ***************** Kelandris the Mad she was a photograph just ripped in half (dio)