Title: Kiss
Author: Kelandris the Mad
Fandom: View Askewniverse/AU
Pairing: Jay/Silent Bob
Rating: NC-17, but more for m/m sexual situations than *graphic* sex
Status: New
Archive: Yes if you tell me
Feedback: kel@crazysheep.net
Series/Sequel: Ties up the Fever series: "Fever", "Jersey Boy" 
and "Deluded"
Disclaimer: All of this springs from my imagination, but Jay and 
Silent Bob sprang from Kevin Smith's imagination first.
Notes: Oh, I'm just not happy unless it breaks into four parts, I 
think. I like my quartets.
Summary: Jay and Bob try to deal with the fallout from earlier 
admissions.
Warnings: Weird arty camera angles for some reason. Some angst. 
Yet more references to Jay's tortured past.

"Kiss"
by Kelandris

**Imagine the tableau as if set on display: plastic bright with 
lettering and sale prices hangs in tiny sugarglass windows and from 
the miniature ceiling struts. Gleaming metal, glass and flooring 
tiles cover all visible surfaces, and everything is painted to a 
bright glitter under the banks of display lights. Small posed people 
set on rounds of black plastic sit on small benches or stand on white-
tiled stairs, or move in a dozen different mechanized ways, attending 
to their daily cares. Selling, buying, tending to children, looking 
around that great American construct, The Mall. Silk and plastic 
ficus trees reach for a sky they can't see, trapped in white plastic 
pots surrounded by smaller pots of more indistinct greenery. 
Everything, for this moment, is frozen and glossy with time standing 
still.

**Now: blow everything up to life size, and make it real. Restore 
the ticking of the clocks that are only audible in the clock store on 
the upper level. People move now, in random patterns, checking their 
own timepieces, checking their children, talking to each other; 
laughing, buying, walking, comparing.

**All but two, who sit on a bench just past the pet store, studiously 
looking at anything but each other. In fact, we might almost believe 
that time is still frozen here. The black leather shines more 
obviously than the seal-dark hair of the man wearing it, yet both 
gleam under the mall lights. And the long blond hair of the man 
sitting next to him glitters nearly as brightly as the red thread 
spelling out the word "SNOOGANS" on his black knit cap.**

Finally, the blond twitches, squinching up his face and hunching his 
shoulders.

"Noodge," he says miserably. "Dude, I feel gut-punched here."

The man in black is silent. Well, as we know, he's nearly always 
silent, but this is more than his typical stoicism. This is the 
wordlessness that springs inchoate from helpless yearning, from 
confusion and pain, from everything he's striving so hard to keep 
bottled inside.

Both men shift uncomfortably on the bench. Finally, the man in black 
opens his mouth.

"Jay..." he says softly.

The blond looks over. For one moment, his face is unshuttered. The 
silent man sees hope, fear, yearning, wonder--then that expressive 
face shuts down, and he's left staring at sullen confusion and 
resentment. He shakes his head, rising. He can't fling words 
against that fa�ade; they won't be heard. Instead, he walks off down 
the mall.

Jay watches him leave, growing frustrated, growing angry. He stands, 
moving to follow.

"Fuckin' Bob, man, always has the last whatever."

His hands clench into fists as he runs to catch up. When they pass 
some maintenance doors, Jay reaches forward, grabbing Bob's collar 
and pulling him into the access tunnel. Before he can even open his 
mouth, Jay's in Bob's face, slamming an extended forefinger into the 
other man's broad chest.

"Now, you fuckin' *tell* me about this shit!" he says. There is a 
slight hysterical edge to his voice, slowly cutting through the 
anger. "What happened when I was sick?!"

Bob tilts his head to one side, considering. For just a moment, we 
silent observes can see him contemplating replating his armored hide, 
going back to Situation Normal. But something happened while Jay was 
sick. He knows, even if Jay does not, that things are different on 
this side of the fever. He thinks�he thinks he would like that 
difference.

Bob steps forward then, kissing Jay. At first, it's just a brush of 
his lips over the blond's, whisper-soft and subtle. He steps back, 
looking at Jay's stunned face, and steps forward again, placing his 
hands against Jay's smooth cheeks and pulling him forward, kissing 
him a second time.

It's longer this time, slower. Hotter. He gently tongues open Jay's 
trembling lips, licking over his teeth (taste of nicotine, pop, pot 
and pretzels) and then parting them before Jay could think to clench 
the muscles taut. He pauses for a moment, then sucks Jay's tongue 
into his mouth.

In a rush, Jay steps forward, pinning Bob to the wall and moaning. 
His hips are thrusting forward in little bucking motions, and Bob's 
eyebrows go up as he feels an erection pressing against him. He's 
fairly sure Jay can feel his, and at some point, he's going to have 
to do something about that, but right now, it's too good just kissing 
Jay.

Grey-walled access tunnel, silent save for heavy breathing and small 
cries from the two figures standing under a ceiling spot. An 
invisible camera rotates around them, seemingly stopping time again. 
We are that camera, rotating around Bob to Jay, into Jay.

And Jay is scared. It's not that he doesn't like Bob kissing him--
oh, God, he loves it, *loves* it more than anything, and Bob's lips 
are just as satin-soft as he'd thought. And it feels so good, so 
*right*, pressed up against Bob. Feelin' their dicks grinding 
against each other. In fact, he wants to do more. He wants to show 
Bob what his mouth can really do, slide him around that corner at 120 
mph, hear Bob--*hear* Bob, *yeah*--screaming and pushing that big bad 
boy he feels inside those shorts, inside Jay, *yeah*--

And that's what scares him. That's what terrifies him more than 
getting arrested again, more than living on the street again. 'Cause 
what if all this was to get into Jay's pants? An' then what if Bob 
leaves?

**Seven years, man, kind of a long fuckin' seduction, dipshit!**

**Yeah, but what if, man? What *if*?**

What if may not matter if this keeps up, though--his thrusts are 
close to bringin' him off. Just bein' this close, feeling Bob's 
tongue in his mouth, and his body heat--

**Fuck!** he thinks, pushing away from Bob with all his might. His 
dick throbs in his shorts, tenting out the front, needing more, more, 
just a little *more*...he does his best to ignore it.

"Fag," he mutters, trying to sound contemptuous and tough. It 
fails. His voice is thin, reedy, breathy and scared. And Bob just 
looks at him with those guileless brown eyes, a low fire burning at 
their core.

"That bother you?" he says softly.

**Fuck,** Jay thinks. **He's s'posed to hit me or somethin'...So I 
could...**

And Jay's eyes open wide as he stares at Silent Bob, shock and hurt 
and comprehension flooding his brain.

**I *want* him to hit me,** he thinks, **so I don't have to deal with 
likin' the way he kisses, or how he looks, or how I...love him...**

**SHIT!**

And we the camera pan around again, click by click back into Bob, and 
inwardly, Bob's shaking his head. Such confusion, such insecurity--
how does Jay cope? How does he tell him it'll be okay?

He steps forward, wrapping a hand around the back of Jay's neck. The 
blond shudders under his grasp, gasping. Hmm. A sensitive spot. 
He'll have to remember that. In the meantime, he pulls him foreward 
until their foreheads are touching.

"Jay," he says softly, "I'm not going anywhere."

"Fuck you," Jay says, his voice small.

Damn. He has to try again. Bob casts around for words with 
meaning. Words usually didn't have meaning, it's why he usually 
didn't use them.

**Oh.** Light dawns on marble skull. **I'm an idiot.**

"Jay," he says again, pulling back enough to look into his eyes. 
Jay's twitching, but won't look away.

"I love you," Bob says simply. And the blond gapes at him. It's as 
if there'd been a string holding him tense, and his words severed 
it. Now Jay just hangs there, limp and confused.

*Well,* he corrects, looking down, *not quite limp.* Jay doesn't 
seem to notice.

"You...you mean that?"

Silent Bob nods, pulling his hand away, feeling the blond shiver when 
he does. He watches as Jay inhales, eyes wide, then watches as he 
pounces, pressing him against the cold grey wall again. Then Jay is 
kissing him, savagely, tongue plunging into Bob's mouth and hands 
pushing his shirt up, fingers rubbing against his nipples. Bob 
moans; he can't help it. Jay pulls back at the sound, smiling 
quirkily.

"Yeah," he says softly. Suddenly his mouth is where his fingers 
were, scorching trails of wet heat across his chest, fastening on his 
nipples and sucking.

**Shit, I'm going to fall down,** Bob thinks, feeling slightly 
hysterical himself. **This is going *way* too fast...**

Then Jay's kneeling, kissing down his belly, and pulling down his 
shorts. He smiles when he sees Bob revealed, like a child given a 
fabulous new toy. He wraps his hand around the large man's large 
cock, licking the tip with the edge of his pointed tongue.

Bob looks down in that moment, and sees those lips wrap around his 
cock again--with Jay conscious and aware of what he's doing. He 
shudders, gasping.

"Shit!"

Jay looks up and flinches away, hand dropping from Bob.

"Y'gonna hit me now?" he whispers fearfully. Bob can only stare at 
him.

**HIT you?? Dear God, *why*?**

He shakes his head, then he wants to slap himself. **Words, you 
idiot. We need words here.** He makes his mouth move.

"I love you," he says again. It was still the right thing to say. 
Jay grins once more, wrapping both hands around Bob's cock as he 
guides him towards his waiting mouth.

"Yeah, then you're gonna love this, man," he says, and swallows him 
whole.

"Fuck..." Bob breathes, bracing his hands against the wall.

"Later," Jay says. Mumbling. But Bob understands.

END
***********