Title: Jigsaw
Author: Kelandris the Mad
Fandom: View Askewniverse, pre-Clerks
Pairing: Jay/Silent Bob
Rating: NC-17 for a bare minimum of sexual activity. I wanna write a
third go at this series, but the last story would be pretty much
plotless sex. You're probably not interested. :>
Status: posted to the site 4 October 2004
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 a story written last year, "Missing Pieces".
Might lead to more stories past this point. I really don't know.
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: Actually, I'd completely forgotten about "Missing Pieces". I
thought it might be easier, writing on essentially two different
computers *and* OS platforms as I do, to go ahead and write stories,
then code them out in HTML prior to posting to my site. (Rather than
code online as is my usual trick, y'see.) So I grabbed something at
random from the directory I was working in, copied it, downloaded it
to disk, and downloaded it to the Mac. Then I read through what I'd
brought down, and went, "Oh, right. I was gonna sequel this."
Summary: Bob plays with Jay's head.
Warnings: Homoerotic activity--in thought, word, deed and shower.
Angry!Bob. Nervous!Jay. Playful!Jay. Shower fun and foot rubbing and
Bob acting all sexy.


"Jigsaw"
by Kelandris


Steve had been something of a dead end, Bob thought. Tales of dealers
horning in on their turf, hells, they could handle that. They'd
handled it before. Besides, it wasn't that they had that big a turf to
roll--little section of downtown Leonardo, a slice of Red Bank, that
was really about it. The mall. The Quick-Stop. Most of 14th. Not that
wide a territory.

But Steve had been upset, and Bob had let Jay spin his shit, claiming
bigger guns than they actually had, more of a defense capability than
they needed. Still. Made Jay feel big to do it, and in a pinch, he
could rustle up some firepower if he needed to. Not a hard call, just
difficult.

Anyway. Steve was walking away now, and Bob checked his watch,
figuring out how much time they had until the next bus. Not that long
a wait, maybe five minutes. He got Jay's attention, tossing his head
towards the bus stop, and Jay nodded, ambling after him as usual.

Well, Bob thought. Not precisely as usual. He focused on the man
behind him as he walked down the alley to the street. He ran fingers
across the collar of his black cotton trench, snapping it up around
his ears. Jay inhaled sharply behind him. Interesting. He *had* been
watching.

They got to the bus stop, A little early, the bus roared to a halt and
they ran their passcards through the machine, ambling towards the
back. Most days, Jay sat beside him, rambling on about some stupid
thing, girls or pot or blow or business or sex. Something. The mouth
going a mile a minute, reflecting on the world.

Not today. Today he sat across the aisle and fidgeted, as nearly quiet
as Jay got. My. Big thoughts circling in that pretty head. Bob hid
another smile, fingering his Zippo.

Then he painted concern in broad strokes across his bearded face.

"Hey," he said softly, getting the blond's undivided attention. He
pointed with his chin across the aisle. **You okay?** the gesture said.

Jay shook his head vigorously. "Yeah, I'm fine."

Fascinating. Did he even know he'd shaken his head?

"If you're sure," Bob said, his voice pitched low, designed to shiver
across skin. Jay fell right into it, too, leaning forward, mouth
falling open, and shivering after the echo died out of the air.

"Uh...yeah, dude, just...uh...little cold, s'all."

"Mm." He looked across the aisle, capturing Jay's vivid gaze. **We'll
have to get you warm, then,** he thought, and watched Jay shiver again.

Fascinating.

***

When they reached home, Jay bolted off the bus as if the hordes of
Hell were inches behind. Then he stopped, rocking forward on the balls
of his feet, and unsteadily turned. He waited, shifting his weight
from one foot to the other, for Bob to catch up.

As if it were any other day, Bob walked upstairs, fishing out his
keys, and unlocked the apartment door. Toeing it open, he walked
inside, Jay behind him, and took off his trenchcoat. He hung it up as
Jay jittered around the apartment, looking at everything as if it were
about to jump out and attack him.

"Time to get you out of those clothes," he said softly, and Jay jumped
a good foot. Bob looked over his shoulder, closing the closet door.

"What?" Jay nearly shrieked.

Bob just watched him. He raised an eyebrow, questioning him silently.
Jay swallowed.

"Shower," he said patiently. "You're cold."

Jay blinked.

"Right, and you don't wanna--"

Bob's rapid look the blond's way cut off however that statement might
have finished.

"What?" he asked aloud.

Jay looked down at his shoes. "Nuthin'," he muttered.

"Okay, then." Shrugging, he moved across the carpet, rolling first one
shoulder, then the other, cracking his neck from side to side. Jay had
stopped breathing again. As if he hadn't noticed, he sat down, kicking
off his shoes, wincing a little as he rubbed a hand across the instep.
Shit, he needed better shoes. What he really needed, he reflected, was
to go out and actually buy new things, rather than making do with what
he had. It wasn't like they didn't have the money, and--

Jay stepped forward, and he stopped speaking.

"Your, uh, your feet hurt?"

He raised his eyebrows. He nodded slowly. Jay walked over to the
couch, dropping to the floor. He looked at Bob's feet as if they might
spontaneously explode under his hands, and then he extended fingers,
rubbing along the instep. Licking his lips, he cocked a leg up,
bringing his ankle to rest on Jay's folded knee.

Bob's eyebrows shot up again, but he said nothing. And he had to
admit, Jay knew what to do. His fingers seemed to search out each
source of hurt, rubbing until the tension left, then moving to the
next spot without being asked. He shivered slightly, imagining those
hands working on his body, and Jay looked up.

"Uh...Bob..." Jay's hands slowed to a halt, and he just held Bob's
foot in his fingers.

Bob looked down, cocking his head to one side.

"I...um...I been...thinkin'...and..."

The phone rang.

**Shit,** Bob thought, watching Jay race for the phone. He picked it
up, chattering animatedly at whomever was on the other end.

Well, fine. He was cold from the weather, too, so he went into the
bathroom, running a shower for himself. Maybe take out some of the
kinks here and there, take his mind off a little blond stoner who had
no clue. The last thing he wanted to do, he thought, stripping off his
sweater, was force him. If it wasn't Jay's idea, Jay would give him
endless amounts of shit over it, for the rest of their natural
lives--and that was always assuming he didn't cry rape and simply leave.

And he couldn't bear that. He shucked off his pants and shorts and
climbed in, the small room filling with pale steam. He set his hands
on the tile, ducking his head under the hot spray, and came to the
uncomfortable realization that he loved the little fuck.

**Well. Who knew? And here you thought you were just gaining a limber
bedmate.**

Shouldn't have surprised him. The amounts of sheer insanity he put up
with from Jay's mouth and Jay's attitude should have clued him in long
ago. No one who wasn't hopelessly in love with him would stay around
him for ten minutes. In fact--

The door to the bathroom opened. Bob stiffened, and then looked down,
grimacing. Damn. All day long of being around Jay, watching him dance,
watching him shiver, holding his hands and blowing on them to warm him
up, and nothing. Now, the boy walks in and here he was, standing at
attention. Great.

"Bob?" Jay asked. He sounded nervous.

"Yeah?" Bob said. He turned towards the corner, the tip of his
erection grazing the cold tile, and he gasped, hissing.

"C'n I...come in?"

Bob heard clothing fall to the floor, the sounds of zippers and snaps
loud in the room. He couldn't believe it.

"You wanna--" He cut the words off, shaking his head. Don't give
anything away, Robert. Keep it cool. It's not an everyday thing, but
who knows what he's thinking right now?

"Sure, if you want," he said softly, and heard the curtain draw back.
A rush of cold air hit his back, and he straightened, listening as Jay
stepped into the tub.

"Sorry," he murmured.

"S'okay," Bob said.

"You, uh, want me to wash your back or anything?"

The image of Jay studiously washing his back almost made him laugh,
but he sobered up quickly. There were dangerous undercurrents to this
conversation. He strummed his fingers against the tile, thinking. This
could get dangerous, for both of them. But�maybe some risks are
necessary. Decided, he turned around.

He faced a naked Jay for the first time in five years, and frankly
looked him over. He was very thin; the boy never ate enough, never.
Either that, or when he did eat, it was the wrong thing, just empty
calories and sugar. Or he just burned it off in frantic energy,
moving, dancing, shadow-boxing in place.

He was also very pale, most of his skin kept hidden from the sun. His
chest was nearly hairless, and tapered to slim, narrow hips, lightly
muscled thighs, strong calves, long feet. Bob let his eyes drop to
Jays' long toes, flexing in droplets of water,, then they rose until
they fastened on Jay's rising erection, smoothly driving out of a
thatch of glittering gold curls.

"Beautiful," he whispered, before he realized he'd spoken. Oh, shit.
He rapidly looked up to Jay's face, but Jay just looked nervous,
biting his lower lip. Well, there was no hope for it either way. If
he'd been hard at the thought of Jay wandering around the bathroom
while he was naked one curtain over, he could cut diamonds, now that
Jay was in the shower with him.

Jay fluttered his hands, all pretense gone. He looked up, looked at
Bob's face, didn't seem to want to look down.

"Bob, I, um..." Then he looked down and his eyes widened.

"Holy shit..." he breathed.

"What?" Bob asked, surprised again into speaking.

"Dude...you're...wow." He swallowed again, and then looked up, the
beginning of a shy smile lifting his lips. A trace of his former
attitude sparkled, deep in his bright eyes.

"That for me?" he asked.

Now Bob bit his lip, looking at Jay. He nodded.

"Well. Guess I should say thanks." And he stepped forward, sliding
down Bob's body and making the brunet gasp. He knelt in the cutting
spray, and brought his head to the juncture of Bob's legs.

**He's not,** Bob whispered to himself. **He's teasing. He's not
serious. He wouldn't--**

And Jay swallowed him, taking a good five inches of him into his
mouth, curling his hand over the rest and stroking up and down. Bob
cried out, bucking forward, and Jay just swallowed more, mouth working
over the length and width industriously.

Then suddenly he pulled away, looking up.

"You...you don't mind? I mean, you don't want me to stop?" Anxious
blue eyes burned into wide brown, as Bob looked down at Jay. Jay still
held his cock in his hands, working it slowly, and it made him twitch.
His eyes crossed, but he blinked, shaking his head.

"No," he gasped. The look in his eyes softened, and he placed his
hands on Jay at last. One stroke down his long, wet hair and he knew
he couldn't hold back any longer.

"Don't stop," he said softly. "Don't ever stop."

Jay stroked him, the sensation thrilling, and then laid one palm flat
against Bob's belly. He looked up. One side of his mouth quirked,
but his eyes were bright.

"Cool," he said, and then sucked him down again.
<br>
**Oh, yeah. This was gonna be...fun...** Bob gasped, bracing his
knees; the *last* thing he wanted to do now was to fall down.

END
*****************
Kelandris the Mad
impedimentia in the way