Title: Hurt Author: Kelandris the Mad Fandom: View Askewniverse Pairing: Jay/Silent Bob Rating: Songfic, of course. I'd say heavy R for references to hot sticky sexual stuph. Plus language and, you know, mentions of homosexuality and such. Status: New Archive: Drop me a note and it's yours. And here's how: Feedback: kel@crazysheep.net Series/Sequels: "Liar" comes first, then this. Think we're done here, but hey, with my brain, the territory could always be revisited. Disclaimers: All parts of my fannish being are enriched by the presence of Kevin Smith, Jason Mewes, Jason Lee, Ben Affleck, and all the merry characters at View Askew Productions (including their current master, Miramax,) save for that pesky financial part of my being, which receives no compensation whatsoever for these tawdry little tales. Notes: Jay still does have a serious denial thing going, but Bob hasn't convinced him of shit. *Still*. Summary: Sometimes, love means nothing, as Bob finds out. Warnings: Still SERIOUS crippling angst, mostly from the Jay-head, this time out. And some mention of hot sweaty mansex. And probably boykissing, since the activities go so very well together. :) And Jay being more clueless than usual. And Bob getting all hurt and sad. Some language warnings. Some heavy drug mentions, though no heavy drug use. No light drug use, for that matter. "Hurt" by Kelandris the Mad *(One, two, three, four) I am for you can enjoy I can give you* The bathroom was cold, and his breath didn't fog up the mirror. That was his first clue something was wrong. He looked up and saw the hectic color in his cheeks, the wide dilation of his eyes, and he realized he wasn't breathing. Air came out in a whoosh, and he hung onto the sink, trembling. His blond hair fell across his face, and he could still feel Bob pounding inside him, Bob fucking him, Bob *loving* him...and it took all the strength out of his legs. Grimly he hung on, forcing the collapse to be slow, to be steady, and still, he wasn't breathing right. He heard movement on the other side of the door, must be Bob, moving into his room--the sound of an inner door closing, even here in the bathroom, was softer than the front door because of the swelling of the wood. *(Give me, give me, give me) It's a time we love to hate, I can give you* And he was fine, he was calming down, he was starting to breathe again--until he heard the *snick* of the lock on Bob's door snapping shut. **Oh, *shit*...he locked his door.** He blinked, rubbing at his eyes, and straightened, eyes on the closed door of the bathroom. No. Couldn't be. Couldn't. Bob *never* locked that motherfucking door. Somethin' about a safety valve or some shit...Bob'd tried to explain it to him one day, but he hadn't really been listening. Shit, some days, he could not get fucking *enough* of Bob's voice, he *lived* for that soft, fuzzy tenor, laced through with caring and compassion. Some days. **And some days, fuckin' face it already, some days you just tune his shit out, 'cos you don't want to listen. Y'know, in case he lets somethin' slip you don't wanna fuckin' think about. Just in case. You tune him the fuck out.** He whimpered, tracing aimless patterns on the bathroom door, leaning his head against it. It'd been one of those days, one of those *tuning-out* days, that Bob'd explained it to him, too. Somethin' about...he wouldn't lock his door, 'cos Jay needed to know it was open...or some shit. Somethin' about his nightmares. Somethin' about...safe havens? Or... "Shit, like *I* fuckin' know!" he screamed to the still air, and then shuddered all over. *I am for you will enjoy I can give you (Give me, give me, give me)* He inhaled, standing as straight as he could, feeling as if every vertebrae he owned was on a steel cable pulled taut. Made him walk a bit carefully across the carpet, noting with an odd kind of detachment, they needed to vacuum. Or, fuck, be honest, *Bob* needed to vacuum. 'Cos he didn't do so much for housework, truth be told. Bob'd grown up with the dishes and the mom and the assigned chores, and he still couldn't wrap his head around it, thinkin' of it now. He'd grown up knowing that the only shit in the fridge was old take-out and beer. He finally learned the fine art of cooking for himself when he was six--find can of chili, find can opener, open fuckin' can, find fork that's clean enough, eat. Repeat when fuckin' hungry. Bob'd been trying to teach him something about applying actual *heat* to things, which made him laugh, 'cos shit, hadn't he taken Home Ec like every other fucker in Leonardo High? Hells, it was one of the few classes he'd *liked*, man, 'cos if you made the shit right, you got to eat it, and damn, sometimes that shit was *good*. **Shit,** he thought, feeling depressed. **Bob only tried to teach your motherfuckin' ass 'cos he wanted to take care o' you. Ain't you figured that shit out yet, numbnuts?** "Shut up," he hissed under his breath. "Just shut up, shut up, shutthefuckupthankyou..." And he stood next to Bob's door, raising a hand to knock. Then he stopped. Shit. What if Bob didn't want to see him? What if Bob wouldn't open his door? Shit, Bob *had* to open that door, right? At...some point...'cos...he just *had* to. Stupid to think he wouldn't. 'Cos that just just...crackheaded... He swallowed against sudden pain, discounting any possible source, and knocked on the door, as if Bob locked himself in all the time. "Hey," he said. "Bob?" And there was silence from the other side. **Well, sure, shithead, what the fuck'd you expect? He don't fuckin' *talk*, after all...** Save that Jay knew how untrue that was. Jay knew how often Bob talked. 'Cos they talked a lot--at home, in quiet rooms at parties, walking between houses...Bob talked a *lot*, actually...when he...trusted someone... **Shit.** He slid down the wall, scrubbing at eyes that threatened to spill tears down his cheeks. Fuck, like he *needed* this crap, like he needed that silent shit behind door number one...'cept, he did. And he knew it. He just...didn't know how to tell him. *This is the time you'd love to hate I will take you* Jay leaned his head against the door, closing his eyes, sighing out breath. "Okay. Fuck. Okay." He blinked at the empty apartment, pulling his legs up. "Shit, Bob...you never understood. Y'always tol' me you did, but you never fuckin' *got* it...you know? I never figured out how to tell you. Think the only way I'm tellin' you now is...you won't come outta your room. So...it's like you're not there." "Or...fuck, leastways I c'n pretend you're not. Like I ain't good at lyin' to myself..." "I ever tell you how much I envy you? I mean, you don't talk to most of 'em, but you got this family...you got this...*thing*, this...I dunno, this *network* or some shit...Like, you could get hurt and you could fall down and, and, if I wasn't here...man, if I wasn't here..." He sighed, shrugging against the door. He thought he heard some movement on the other side, but he told himself to ignore it. And he did. "They'd catch you, Bob. I know it. If you argued with 'em, if you didn't talk to 'em for twenty years...if you needed 'em...they'd be there. Took me a while to get that, 'cos...I never had that, man. *Never* fuckin' had that." He sighed again, his hands clenching. **You ain't gonna tell him?** the back of his head asked. **Tell *Bob* about *your* fuckin' family?** The voice was acidic, bitter. Biting off each word. It sounded just like-- "I ever tell you about my dad?" he asked softly. *I'm quite determined and there will be No more mistakes, no more talking* The door cracked open, and he saw a sliver of Bob's face, deeply shadowed. Streaks of wet, like tears, ran down his face, and Jay suddenly wanted to smack the shit out of himself, 'cos his first thought hadn't been, 'Shit, Bob's been crying', but 'Shit, why's Bob's face wet like that?' He was *so* fuckin' stupid sometimes. *Fuck*. "Bob..." he whispered. *I'll bet you hate this* Bob just blinked, looking at him. He breathed in, and Jay watched, not moving. Finally he leaned his head against the doorframe. "You don't have to tell me," Bob whispered. Jay shrugged. "Not like I wanna tell you. But...I don't...I..." "Jay," Bob said. He reached out, and his hand was trembling, and that just about broke Jay entirely. He slumped against the door, still mostly held shut, and stared at Bob with despairing eyes. "I don't wanna hurt you anymore, either," he whispered. "I *don't*, Bob. I...I....*shit!*" Knuckling his hands against his eyes, he shook his head violently. "It's not *fair*," he heard himself say. "This is...this is *so* fucked up, and it's *not* like you even *care*--" "Jay," Bob said. He'd leaned forward, now, resting his forehead against Jay's shoulder. "I care." Obscurely, it made things easier. "My...my dad," he began, his voice hoarse, stumbling. "I always knew...no matter what, no matter what else I was, what *other* kinda fuck-up, I didn't want to be *him*. That's all I had, growin' up. Tryin' to find enough food to eat, and tryin' to find a way to get some sleep without bein'--" He swallowed thickly, throat convulsing. Bob didn't move, just tensed a little. Okay.
"I just...I...shit, Bob, you grew up, you never hadda worry about...I...I never...never wanted...*Bob*," he said, his voice strangling off. "I can't--" Bob withdrew suddenly, and the door flew open. And Bob was there, Bob was *there*, and Jay huddled against him, shivering as if his frame was gonna shake apart. And then Bob's hand was in his hair, stroking through it, calming him, making the shudders pass. Finally he just clung to Bob, hands loosely fisted in his unzipped sweatshirt, listening to Bob's heartbeat, listening to Bob breathe. *Oh, I am for you will enjoy, I can take you (Give me, give me, give me) This is the law and you...* "I dunno if I love you," Jay finally gasped. "I just know...I don't wanna be my dad. I don't wanna be...*anything* that he was..." And Bob didn't say anything, still didn't say anything. Hadn't laughed, hadn't flipped him shit, hadn't pushed him aside. He just held him, held him, held him. And Jay finally slept, lulled by the tidal sounds of Bob. *I'm quite determined and there will be No more mistakes like the last one* END (Song is New Order's "Hurt") ***************** Kelandris the Mad trapped within the silence