Title: Inhabited
Author: Kelandris the Mad
Fandom: View Askewniverse (pre-Clerks)
Pairing: Jay/Silent Bob
Rating: Songfic. Touches of NC-17 for sexual content between males, 
but I mean that--just touches, sadly, no real substance. R for 
language.
Status: Posted February 2002. Written anywhere from three to six 
months before that.
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: Sequels "Out of the Rain", which was then sequelled 
by "Can't Afford to Pay the Rent". Third in the WonderWhore series. 
Prequels "Pleasure of Your Company", which should, if we're lucky, 
tie all this up with a neat leather bow.
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: "Hey," she says. She walks into the room with a tiny stuffed 
hedgehog in her hand. She pulls a cord feeding into the back of the 
hedgehog, and the entire two-inch thing vibrates spastically for 
about half a minute. I look up. "And why...?" I ask, at a loss for 
words. "Oh," she says, smiling, "I thought it might inspire a plot 
bunny. It's just what every household needs, innit? A vibrating 
hedgehog." Oooookay. So free bunny to whomever wants it. I don't. My 
love in life is weeeeeird.
Summary: Bob plays the memory game.
Warnings: Angst. Angst angst angst angst. Weird supporting 
characters. Jay collapse. TalkyBob. Wandering clueless characters in 
need of a more disciplined author. Kid recollections pair oddly with 
the adult stuph. 

"Inhabited"
by Kelandris the Mad

"Ba da pa pa...ba da pa pa..."

Bob looked over at his strange friend, Jay. He watched the blond lean 
his head against the bus window, humming to himself. He didn't seem 
to be watching anything, just staring out.

A frown crossed his brow, but he turned his attention forward, 
watching the bus eat away great sections of midnight road. Three more 
hours and they'd be back in Leonardo, a bevy of cars waiting. Various 
parents would be huddled over coffee and cakes, warming their hands 
over the steam. **All because,** Bob reflected sourly, **the school 
was too cheap to pay for one additional day at the hotel for sixteen 
students and their mentor.**

Well, plus one additional invited guest. His brow creased again. What 
the hell was he going to do? He couldn't take Jay back to *his* mom's 
place; set aside the fact that one of Jay's stepfathers had tried his 
best to light it on fire in the past, it wasn't exactly the happy 
home environment to begin with.

And by an odd reverse token, he couldn't take the boy home to *his* 
family. Lord, but Jay would slip a cog there--cats and dogs and 
babies underfoot, and Mama grabbing everyone indiscriminately, 
hugging or swatting bottoms as she felt applicable at the time. 
Everyone in the house constantly dizzied by the smells of cardamom 
and coffee, cigar smoke and gun oil, ginger and allspice and cloves.

No, not there. And not Jay's house. Where then? He didn't feel up to 
taking him back to the apartment, throwing him onto the living room 
couch with a spare blanket. That might come later, but for right now, 
he just needed time to figure things out. Why he'd brought Jay back 
here, for one. Why he'd thought it was so essential that Jay come 
home. That Jay return with him.

Plus, he didn't want to risk dumping a stranger at his doorstep just 
yet; Trin might stage that final throwing-things fight she'd been 
planning for weeks. Any provocation at this point might be the 
breaking point for her.

*Come here
Pretty please
Can you tell me where I am
You, won't you say something
I need to get my bearings*

For a moment he was trapped in memory. When had it gone wrong between 
them? It hadn't been the sleeping around; they'd both done it, they'd 
both been happy. What then? Had he been too far away, too wrapped up 
in his studies? He hadn't had a serious date in weeks, he'd been a 
model TA, he'd taken Trin to dinner, rented films to watch together, 
made time for her--at least, as much as he could during finals. All 
those papers to grade, and all those untouchable boys with their wide 
eyes desperately seeking breaks in their patterns.

Maybe the answer was simpler. Maybe she could sense that his heart 
wasn't in it, anymore. Everyone reached that point. Bob started 
relationships, was happy in them for months, sometimes as long as a 
year, and then...it faded. He faded. It wasn't that he started to hate 
them; God, sometimes he felt it would be easier if he hated them. 
Instead, he just...stopped loving them. If he ever had. He honestly 
thought he'd never loved anyone in his life save for his family, and 
not all of them.

**brief sense-memory, triggered by the thought: pale candyfloss hair, 
paler skin bruised and broken, thin body shaking in his arms. He'd 
loved that one. Loved him so much his heart had broken when he'd run 
away. Loved him so much it was a physical pain when he'd--**

No one ever seemed to stick around, he thought, tossing away the 
memory set whole. No one. Trin was just one in a long line of...
replacements.

*I'm lost
And the shadows keep on changing*

He tossed over various solutions, rejecting them all in turn, and 
held Jay as he curled against his shoulder, sleeping. A brief flash 
of candyfloss hair in his mind's eye made him tighten the arm around 
Jay, Jay protesting sleepily until Bob relaxed. Finally, it came 
down to one name, arrived at by an incredibly circuitous route, and 
it was the last place he wanted to take the blond. But it was short 
notice, and there was nowhere else to go--at least, not for tonight.

It had to be Tony's. Damn it. 

The bus groaned to a halt, and he nudged Jay to wake up, gather his 
stuff, and began to do the same, walking to the front of the bus to 
organize the students.

*I'm haunted
By the lives that wove the web
Inside my haunted head*

After all the students were away, he strode over to a pay phone, Jay 
yawning and ambling beside him. He picked up the handset, glared at 
it for a moment, then dialed. Cab company was quick to answer, and 
for once, miracle of miracles, someone had just dropped off a fare in 
their area.

"Be about five minutes, awright?"

Bob watched Jay jitter across the parking lot, the reality of the 
situation seeming to be slowly sinking in. He watched Jay look 
around, face hanging slack, and tried to imagine what he was 
thinking. Leonardo High had changed a little, since their days. 
There was a new performance amphitheater, the roof angling up like a 
ski slope, and they'd done some extreme ground work, uprooting trees 
that had been on the front lawns for a good fifty years, and putting 
in pavement, benches, fountains, stone signs. But the basic 
structure was the same. Did Jay remember it?

He began rotating in a slow circle, and Bob had a sinking feeling he 
was about to bolt. He agreed, and hung up the phone, walking over to 
the blond. He held out a distinctive red pack, tapping out a 
cigarette with a practiced movement of his wrist. Jay's eyebrows went 
up, but he pulled out the cig, leaning forward to let Bob light it. 
The click of the Zippo was startlingly loud, but Jay flinched only 
slightly. Bob stared at him, wondering what to say now, and was 
spared the task of word choice when the cab pulled into the lot.

"Where we goin' now?" Jay asked, tossing the butt of the cigarette 
onto the grass. Bob frowned, stamping it out, and followed Jay into 
the cab.

"Friend's place," he said, and handed a twenty and the address to the 
driver.

****** 

*And I'm haunted
By the lives that I have loved
And actions I have hated*

"Whhzt...better be head or blow, man, `r I call the cops." The door 
cracked open a fraction of an inch and Bob sighed. This was going to 
be a long night, he just knew it.

Bob and Jay stood on the other side of the dark door. Cars whizzed by 
behind them, the sidewalk so narrow both men could feel the cars pass 
by as if the doors had reached out, grazing the backs of their legs.

"It's Bob," he said tersely, wanting to say much more, but trying to 
keep from either screaming at the top of his lungs at the oaf 
indoors, or battering down the door with his fists. It wasn't easy. 
Tony was making it less easy with every second they stood outside.

"Bob?" Tony said quietly. Suddenly Tony sounded much more alert. He 
cleared his throat, swallowing audibly, and Bob saw a slice of black 
eye appear in the gap between where the door ended and the jamb began.

**What the hell?**

Tony began speaking very fast.

"Hey, Bob, hey, nice to hear from you, really nice, your cousin, you 
know, he don't mean what he tol' you, we're just kiddin' around, 
there, you know, with the money and the death threats--"

"*Death* threats?" squeaked Jay. "Hey, you know, I'm sure I saw a 
hotel on the way in here--"

Bob gave him a look, and he stopped talking, but looked unhappy. Bob 
sighed again.

**Shit,** he thought. **What the fuck have you done now?**

*We'll pray
Please, I know it's hard to believe
To see a perfect forest
Through so many splintered trees*

"Tony..." He sighed, He did *not* have time for this.

"I'll call my cousin, all right?" Right now, he didn't even know 
which one it was. If it was Mischa's son, Tony was out of luck. Any 
of the others could be worked with.

Tony unlatched the door, swinging it open another few inches. He 
stood there in black satin boxer shorts and a white tank top, his 
brown hair tousled and spiky from the morning's mousse. It should 
have looked ridiculous. Sadly, on him it looked painted on, the tank 
barely restraining the pumped muscles clearly defined underneath. 

"You'd do that?" Tony asked wonderingly.

It was worth noting that in addition to the black eye, his lip was 
split and there was a growing bruise on his left shoulder. Bob shook 
his head, wondering what he was about to fall into. Tony's face 
hardened, and he started to shut the door.

"Like you care, whatha fuck you come here this time of the night for 
anyway..." he muttered.

Bob placed a hand flat against the door, holding it open. 

"What?"

"One night."

"*What*?"

"One night," Bob repeated. Tony just stared at him. For a moment 
there was silence. And then, Tony started laughing. Started laughing 
so hard within moments, he was leaning against the door, kicking the 
base as peals of hilarity rang down the sidewalk.

"Trin kicked you out, din't she? I knew it! Fuckin' matter of *time*, 
din't I tell you? Shit, she find out how much you like boys, or she 
find a new boy herself?"

Again Jay's eyes darted to him, suspicious and guarded. "I knew it," 
he hissed, and turned to leave the doorstep. Bob grabbed his arm.

"Fuckin' lay *off* me, man, I ain't interested--"

**With what you do for a living, why does *that* little fact shock 
you?** he thought, his mood turning vicious. He so wanted to give 
Tony a matching black eye.

"Did I offer?" Bob hissed back, refusing to let go of his arm. Jay 
looked down, looked at the hand holding him. Then he looked up. His 
lips were twitching, but he barely nodded.

"Ton, open the damn door," Bob said tiredly. "*Now*."

*Don't cry,
There's always a way
Here in November in this house of leaves*

"Ba da pa pa, ba da pa pa..." Jay was humming again, and Bob strove 
to place the song. They were in, and Tony was puttering in the 
kitchen, carefully staying out of Bob's way. He'd brushed past Tony 
on the way in, going to the linen closet without a sound and grabbing 
sheets for the bed in the spare room. Tony blustered next to him, 
ruffling his hands through his short, spiky hair, protesting.

"Shit, boy, `s'like you still live here--you *could* just ask me!"

Bob looked at Tony, and Tony stepped back, pouting.

"Fucker," he muttered, stepping away, and then he'd retreated to the 
kitchen. Bob finished making the bed, and brought the one extra sheet 
and a spare pillow out to the couch, laying them over one of the 
arms. He sat down, Jay immediately stopping his small circuits of the 
living room, and sitting down next to him. He looked at Bob. 

Bob looked at him. Jay's eyes grew wide, and he scooted away so that 
his legs weren't touching Bob's.

Bob tried not to twitch at that, but it hurt on some level. He heard 
clinking in the kitchen, and then Tony came out, waving three beers 
and a yellow tin Bob remembered vividly. He sat down on the couch, 
turning to face Jay, and tossing Bob a smile that was all sharp, 
white teeth.

Extending one long arm, he passed a beer to Bob, and then held one 
out to Jay. When Jay reached for it, Tony smiled a little, caressing 
the fingers that wrapped around the bottleneck. Jay flinched, eyes 
wide, and then they narrowed.

**Shit,** thought Bob. **Here we go again.**

Tilting his head, Jay tipped the beer, making sure Tony was watching 
him. Then he bobbed his head forward, lipping the longneck, slowly 
sucking in the glass rim. He pulled his lips away briefly, tongue 
swirling around the rim, then tilted the bottle further, swallowing a 
single gulp of foamy beverage. As he pulled the longneck free, a 
droplet of foam hung on the glass rim, and Tony shuddered, all over.

"So, wow, look at the fuckin' time," he said, rising so quickly he 
nearly dropped his beer. "I gotta be gettin' to bed, and I'll leave 
you guys to, uh, whatever it is you were, uh, plannin' to do, and uh, 
just, let yourselves out inna mornin', okay?"

And he fled to the back room, closing the door hard. Jay laughed, 
shoulders shaking, until he turned to face Bob.

The laughter stopped.

"What?" Jay said sullenly. "Like you din't know what was on his mind."

Bob just shook his head. He stood, tossing his head towards the back 
room, and watched as Jay got to his feet. He set off, Jay sneering at 
his side, for the guest bedroom. He reached the door a split second 
after Jay did, and watched, perturbed, as Jay moved towards the bed. 
He sat down, bouncing a little, then tossed his hair over his 
shoulder, looking at Bob.

**Here it comes.**

*You and me
And these shadows keep on changing*

"So you like boys, huh?" He arched a shoulder, laying his head on it 
for a moment, licking his lips.

"Stop."

"What, I'm not good enough for you?"

**memory flash like a knife under his skin: smaller hands stroking 
ice-blond hair, watching the gracile shoulders shake with pain so 
deep, it could not be spoken, and wondering. Wondering. When the boy 
would leave. If the boy would leave. Why he wasn't strong enough to 
take him away from here, himself. Little Bob, his family called him. 
He was short, he was thin, he was weak compared to his cousins, even 
his sisters. Sturdy farmer stock, the rest of his family, but this 
one child, this last child, was small. Slender. Bookish. Fearfully 
intelligent. And not strong enough to fight off the forces 
surrounding his friend, penning him in, pushing the poison into his 
system. He ached for his friend, he wept himself, he held him tight 
and--**

Bob licked his lips, turning away. He returned to the couch and Jay 
followed. Sitting down again, he watched as Jay walked over to his 
side.

"Y'know, we'd be more comfy in the bed."

Bob just looked at him, and Jay smiled quirkily. But his eyes were 
still, resigned. Leaning in, he came close enough to Bob to straddle 
him, and then moved his hips forward. Both men froze for a moment, 
afraid to move. Then Jay relaxed, laying his hands across Bob's neck, 
playing with the fine dark hairs at his nape. Bob shuddered, gasping, 
and that brought some warmth to the blond's sea-colored eyes.

"Hey," Jay whispered. "Kiss me again."

Bob leaned in, wanting to taste those lips again, feel Jay arch 
against him. He barely brushed the soft, soft surface of Jay's lips, 
and then pulled back.

"Wha--"

"Do you remember me at all?" he asked softly.

Jay just shook his head. "I don't get you."

Bob licked his lips, swallowing.

"No," he said. He hated this. "You don't. Not until you remember me."

*And I'm haunted
By the lives that I have loved
And actions I have hated*

Jay sat up, angry now. "Fuck you, man," he spat. "I'm supposed to 
remember every twenty came my way? What, you came down for some 
convention last year and you liked my fuckin' hair and decided you 
wanted a live-in? Well, *fuck you,* man, *fuck* you and *fuck* your 
games and fuck your fuckin' *dog* and--"

And Bob kissed him. He told himself it was just to shut him up, so 
that Tony wouldn't get up again, but that fire blazed up between them 
and within moments, Jay was thrusting against him, moaning into his 
mouth.

Oh, God. It was too much. It was dangerous. He didn't want this. He 
never wanted it to stop. Once more, he pulled back, and dizzily, Jay 
sat up, looking around. Bob sighed. His hands fell to Jay's hips and 
he nearly twitched them away, stiffening. Jay looked at him, eyes 
twin propane flames, burning in his pale face.

"Kiss me," he whispered. "Just kiss me."

*I'm haunted
By the promises I've made
And others I have broken
I'm haunted
By the lives that wove the web
Inside my haunted head*

"I can't."

"Why *not*?" Jay splayed his fingers against Bob's chest, frustrated, 
and it took Bob's breath away. It wasn't just him, he was sure of it. 
It wasn't just playacting. Jay wanted *him*. Or, he reflected sourly, 
did right now. That might change, later.

"You grew up here." He gestured towards the window, correcting 
himself.

"Actually, you grew up in Leonardo. This is Red Bank."

And a convulsive shudder passed through Jay, causing his thighs to 
clench around Bob's. It made Bob whimper, feeling the strength in the 
muscles. Dear...GOD...he wanted Jay's legs wrapped around him, Jay's 
hands gripping his hips, driving him in fiercely; he wanted...he 
wanted...

*Shit,* he wanted Jay to know who he was. He looked up and Jay was 
clinging to him.

"You...you...*fucker*...you tol' me, but I din't believe it. You 
brought me back to...how far are we from my mo--" 

Jay stuttered to a halt, gasping as if he'd been struck repeatedly in 
the stomach. Bob's eyes widened.

*I'll always want you
I'll always need you
I'll always love you*

"Fifteen miles, maybe less. We're on the edge of--"

Jay interrupted him, laughing hysterically, then the laughter cut off 
as he snapped his head up, looking at Bob.

"Shit," he said precisely. "He's going to kill me."

And he toppled forward, unconscious even before Bob caught him. More 
worried than he'd been when he found Jay in the alley, he brought him 
back to the guest bedroom, laying him down on the bed and pulling a 
blanket over him. It was a long time before he went back to the 
couch, and even longer before he fell asleep himself.

**Kiss me,** he heard, and more distantly, the sound of wails and 
sobbing, in a very small room.

*Come here
No I won't say please
One more look at the ghost
Before I'm gonna make it leave
Come here
I've got the pieces here
Time to gather up the splinters
Build a casket for my tears*

END
(Song excerpts from Poe's "Haunted". Quote below is from "If You're 
Gone" by Matchbox 20)
***** 
Kelandris the Mad
there's an awful lot of breathing room but I can hardly move