Title: Mine
Author: Kelandris the Mad (kel@crazysheep.net)
Fandom: View Askewniverse, Jay/Silent Bob
Rating: NC-17. Extreme homosexuality? M/m sex; mention of 
tattooing, branding; ownership issues raised.
Archive: The usual places. Tell me if it's somewhere other than the 
list archive or a list member's grab.
Series/Sequel: You Never Know, but probably not.
Status: New
Disclaimer: Jay and Bob belong to Kevin Smith and the View 
Askewniverse. Really. Actually, I'm just playing with clones. 
Really flexible clones.
Summary: Frenzied little smutfest, no redeeming value whatsoever.
Notes: This for your little dare, Alexa. HAH!
Warnings: Nothing more than you've read above. Hickie action, hair 
action, marking fantasies, hard brutal loving sex and lots of it.

"Mine"
by Kelandris

"C'mere..."

Bob's gutteral growl pulls Jay out of a sound sleep, as he hoped it 
would. He watches as his boy rolls over, and his heart pounds harder 
behind its fence of bone and flesh. Filters of streetlight through 
the blinds he'd left down patterns him in stripes of shadow and 
silver. Bob reaches out, running a finger down Jay's smooth chest, 
and he watches Jay blink his way to consciousness, still managing to 
tremble at the touch.

"Wahizit? Bob?"

Still blinking, he pushes up on his elbows, the blankets tangling 
around his sharp little ankles. Bob just chuckles low in his throat, 
leaning forward to capture one of Jay's nipples, sucking it between 
his lips as Jay arches his back, gasping.

"Holy *shit*, man, give a man some fucking *warning*--"

Laughing again, Bob sends a hand down to part Jay's legs, reaching 
down to clasp his hand around Jay's semi-rigid length, listening to 
him gasp again. It doesn't take his boy long at all to come to full 
attention, throbbing in his hand. Insistent. Demanding.

**Mine.**

"'Kay, `kay, fuck the warming..." Jay's voice is still thick with 
sleep, but his breath is hitching out of him already in hisses and 
gasps. Yes. Yes, what he could do to him. All to him, all for him, 
all *his*.

**Mine!**

Turning on the bed, he tears the sheets back, revealing Jay to what 
light there is, scattered lines of moonglow and night. Planes and 
angles, muscle strands and pale, unmarked skin. Jay. He flips him 
over, his boy protesting being shoved down on the bed. Oh, there are 
scars here and there--some of those stories he knows, some he'd never 
asked about. There are at least two burn marks, one on his upper 
arm, one on his leg. He didn't have to ask about those. But no 
other marks, no tattoos, no birthmarks, no... brands...

Bob catches his breath, suddenly wanting an iron in here with them, a 
tattoo gun, *something*. Not to hurt Jay; never to hurt his one and 
only, his other self. No, just to mark him, mark Jay as he felt he'd 
been marked, mark him forever as his. Some little swirl of ink, 
somewhere most of the world can't see, that he can revel in. Some 
raised bit of flesh he can lick over, rub, suck on when it heals, 
that meant Jay was his for all time. August and ever after, yes, 
just for him. All for him.

He snaps his fingers, panting, and Jay rumbles something about pushy 
bitches. He opens the nightstand drawer anyway, fumbling until he 
finds the lube and hands it back. Yes. *Yes*. Bob opening the 
bottle, filling his hand with a generous amount, Bob beginning the 
gentle task of opening Jay wide to take him.

Nothing in him wants to be gentle tonight, but he forces himself to 
go slow, go easy, slide in lubed finger after lubed finger and slowly 
stretch, slowly rotate as Jay moans underneath him. There'd been a 
time a few months back, when they were both still new to this, that 
he didn't wait, didn't stretch him long enough, and when he thrust 
in, he tore Jay. Just a little, didn't even bleed for that long, but 
he was convulsed by it. He'd wounded Jay. Jay had forgiven him, 
long before he'd forgiven himself. Now, he takes the time and does 
it right.

He strokes one hand over the curves of Jay's ass, leaving a sticky 
trail of lube behind, thinking of where he'd put a mark. Would Jay 
give him permission for something like that, something someone else 
could run the risk of seeing? His fingers moved, on Jay, in Jay, and 
the blond writhed underneath him, crying his name over and over.

"Fuck, Bob, fuck....yeah... God, yes, Bob, *fuck* me, quit this fuckin' 
foreplay shit, just *fuck* me, I don't fucking care! Bob... Bob, c'mon...
Bob, *please*..."

Mmm, yes, right *here*, he thinks, tracing his initials over and over 
again on the high curve of Jay's left cheek. Right *here*, where 
even his chippies wouldn't look necessarily, and make it obscure 
enough so that only someone looking *very* close--and he was the only 
one who would do that--would make out letters at all. Yeah. Like 
that, like that, just like that--

"Bob!" Jay cries out, pushing against him so that half his hand 
nearly slid in. He was sobbing with frustration, crying out, shoving 
back hard. 

"Fuck, I need you in me, Bob, *in* me, c'mon c'mon c'mon... don't make 
me wait, c'mon, fuck me, I need you, I need you inside me, c'mon Bob, 
*please*, *please*..."

Bob leans down, running his tongue up from the base of Jay's spine to 
the back of his neck, feeling the muscles in his torso clench and 
contract. He reaches up to Jay's hair, wrapping the beaten gold 
length carefully around his fingers, loving the feeling of the silken 
mass brushing his skin. Then he tugs on it just hard enough to pull 
Jay's head up, pull it back. Bob leans closer, kissing the side of 
Jay's neck, biting it, leaving little nips along the skin while Jay 
gasps and gasps and gasps beneath him.

"You fucker," Jay whispers. "What the fuck you want me to do, 
*beg*? Awright, awright, I'm beggin' already! *Please*, okay, 
Lunchbox? Move your fine ass and fuck me already!"

Nearly growling with lust and need, Bob flips Jay over again, 
throwing his legs wide and pinning him for a moment against the 
mattress. Belly to belly, he leans in as the breath leaves Jay, then 
raises himself on his elbows while the air rushes back into his boy.

"Fuck, man, you always know that makes me dizzy!" Jay complains. He 
doesn't sound that convincing even to himself, and Bob catches his 
wry, rueful smile. Jay lifts a hand to stroke along the face he sees 
over him, and Bob turns his face into the palm, kissing the center of 
his hand as Jay whimpers.

"Hells, yeah... do that *again*..."

Bob snorts, leaning in to kiss him harshly, lips scorching across 
Jay's, fighting the lips open, fighting to get inside the mouth that 
still tastes of the rum they'd had that night. Not that Jay was 
fighting him in the least... he wraps his legs tight against Bob, moving 
his knees up to clasp Bob's ribs as he fights his lower body towards 
Bob's cock, all the while sucking Bob's tongue deep into his mouth, 
moaning against it, breathing hard. Jay's whole body is twitching, 
even down to the toes. Bob lifts one of Jay's legs, smiling, kissing 
the instep on the foot before putting it down.

"Fuck me! Please, please, please Bob, please fuck me, please Bob, 
please Bob, *please*..."

Jay's whimpering now, loud, insistent, and Bob reaches between them, 
grabbing the thick head of his cock and sliding slowly into Jay, Jay 
who is hot and wet and ready for him, Jay who wants him more than 
he'd ever wanted anyone else. His boy. His Jay. Dancing underneath 
him, panting, mouth open and eyes gloriously glazed with lust, yes. 
Yes. All his, all his now, everything he wants. Everything.

**Mine. Mine. Mine!**

He thrusts in harder now, faster, listening to Jay whimper and beg 
and plead underneath him. He trails a hand down Jay's chest again, 
pinching his nipples, scratching gently over his sternum, down to his 
twitching abdomen. Down to where his cock beats out 4/4 time 
against Bob's own belly. He thrusts in fast, faster, and wraps his 
hand around Jay's cock, Jay moaning loudly underneath him, moaning 
his name.

"Fuck yes, fuck, *yes*, Bob, yes, so good, so *good*, so good... love 
this, Bob, love this, love this, love *you*, love *you*, yes..."

Yes. Yes. Just like this, always like this, Jay hard against him, 
hot around him, tight, so tight. And his hand wraps around Jay's 
cock, pumping him, precum soaking his fingers, soaking the sensitive 
skin of their bellies, easing the friction as he pulls his hand back 
from Jay, away. Jay moaning, Jay crying out, protesting wordlessly, 
Bob only smiling, fire dancing in his eyes.

He lifts Jay's legs, holding them high in the air for a moment, 
pulling nearly completely out of Jay as he does. He lifts Jay, 
holding his hips, wrapping Jay's legs over his shoulders, then slams 
into him, hard, listening to Jay scream underneath him, tossing his 
head from side to side on the pillows.

"*FUCK, YESSSS*!" Jay screams, hands fisting in the covers thrown to 
either side, muscles in his arms cording as if he was trying to lift 
a Buick on his own. Bob pounding into him, owning him, the sound of 
his balls slapping against Jay's ass the sweetest sound in the world, 
barring Jay moaning his name. Right now, he knows his brain is 
recording everything for later playback, Jay screaming for Bob, Jay 
crying out for Bob. And Bob is fucking him like there is only this 
moment in all the world, and he must press everything he is into Jay, 
force his way inside him, mark him as he has been marked. Bending 
down, forcing Jay into a jackknifed tangle of arms and knees for a 
moment, he sucks one of Jay's nipples into his mouth again, Jay 
reduced to small panting noises and whimpered cries. Moving his 
mouth, he finds a patch just under the nipple, and he sucks there, 
sucks hard on the sweat-sheened skin, sucks the blood to the surface, 
sucks some out and swallows.

**Mine. Inside me now, yes, mine. Mine, you're all mine, always 
mine.**

Jay cries out, aware only that Bob's fucking him right now, fucking 
him as hard and fast and brutal as he's ever been fucked before, and 
his eyes are rolling back in his head, his breath coming in hard 
hitching gasps. Bob leans back, grabbing his ankles, pulling them 
off his shoulders and fucks him, fucks him harder, faster, putting 
everything he has into slamming his hips, slamming his cock into Jay, 
over and over again. Yes. Love you, Jay. Yes. Own you. *Yes*--

--and in that moment, he jerks forward, thrusting all of himself 
inside his beloved, filling him completely. And he's coming, coming, 
coming so hard it's a physical pain he moans with, muscle jerks and 
shudders hitting him like earthquake aftershocks, white noise playing 
in the back of his brain.

And Jay's panting like a bellows, cursing under his breath, 
whispering for Bob to stay in him, stay inside, just stay there, stay 
*there*, just a little longer. Just a little longer, bringing his 
legs down, cursing them, throwing his arms around his lover, folding 
him tight against his chest.

"Yeah, Bob," he breathes, and twitches in time to Bob twitching 
inside him still.

"Yeah. Just like that."

And just like that he's out again, and Bob gently slides out of him, 
earning another sleepy moan from his boy.

**My boy. My boy Jay.**

Jay murmurs, rolling on his side, and Bob leans over him, pulling the 
covers up around Jay's bare shoulders, kissing the shoulder and the 
one ear he sees revealed. He sees the edges of Jay's sleepy smile 
and rolls on his back, smiling himself.

**Yeah. Mine, Jay. You're all mine. All *mine*.**

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