Title: Gothic Rose
Author: eenodol
Pairing: J/SB
Part: 2/?
Archive: only under the name eenodol
Disclaimers: The following story is entirely fictitious. Any
similarities between yadda yadda yadda.

Bob left Mary Jane's and began to head back toward the apartment when
suddenly a man wearing fishnets and not much else tapped him on the
shoulder.
"Hey hot stuff. I like your liner, you headed to Mosca Muerte?"
"Er?" Bob questioned.
"You know, Dead Fly, The club for our type." the man said.
Bob simply shrugged.
"Well c'mon" the man coaxed.
And with that the two headed down the street together. The man,
taking a hint, didn't even bother to try to make small talk with Bob as
they pressed on. 
They approached a small coin laundry that Bob had never been to, the
main reasons being that not only were all the instructions written in
some strange oriental language but the machines just didn't make sense.
The man led Bob through the door and to the janitorial closet. Inside
was a huge room filled with smoke and flashing lights, not to mention
seemingly hundreds of people. The smell of cloves hit Bob from every
angle. He stumbled backwards but the man gabbed him by the arm and
pulled him in.
The man noticed Bob's shocked expression and asked him if he had ever
been there before. Bob shook his head no so the man began to explain.
"This is a gay goth club for gay goths. Are you a gay goth?"
Bob shrugged emphatically.
"Well then, I'm gonna hit the bar. You want anything?"
Bob shrugged.
"Well okay then."
Suddenly the man was gone and Bob was mobbed by about ten other gay
men all asking him questions.
"What's your sign sweet thing?"
"Do you like blood tiger?"
"How do you feel about being tied up?"
"wanna meet my meat?"
Bob shrugged at them all. Suddenly a clove cigarette was thrust into
Bob's face. Bob accepted it and nodded his head in appreciation. Bob
wandered over to an abandoned booth and sat enjoying his clove cig when
suddenly the man whom had brought Bob to the club reappeared from the
bar holding two drinks. He offered one to Bob then took a seat next to
him in the booth.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Jay rolled over and suddenly realized that he was on a fluffy
surface. Sure Bob was somewhat cushy but this feeling was different. He
pondered for a moment and then opened his eyes. He was now in his own
room. Confused he glanced at the clock. It was 3:30 am.
"Awww man, I'm so hungover. I wonder if that tubby bitch made coffee
yet." he groaned.
He rolled over again, this time unfortunately off of the bed.
"Ouch! What the fuck is stabbing me in my motherfucking back?"
Jay reached under him and retrieved his baby kitty shaped crackpipe.
"Fuck. I hope I didn't break that shit.
With that Jay stood up and continued his trek towards the kitchen. He
disdainly noticed that the coffee pot remained empty.
"Bob! Yo Bob, get your tubby ass out here and make some coffee." Jay
yelled then stood for a minute waiting for a response.
"Bob?! Damnit I want some fucking coffee. I ain't kidding here
tubby."
Jay paused for another moment and then headed towards Bob's bedroom.
He swung open the door and turned on the lights.
"Damnit you ain't fucking funny Bob...Bob? Where the fuck are you?"
Jay asked the empty room.
"Wait that tubby bitch ain't ever gone at this time of night. He's
missing his Degrassi reruns. What if he's hurt? What if he's dead? What
if he's goin' at it with some fineass bitch? I'm gonna go get me some of
that then." he said with determination.