Title: Near You Always Author: Mercury Starlight Rating: R, language of course ^_^ Pairing: J/SB Archive: Oh please, please! Disclaimer: The standard. I don't own Jay, Silent Bob, or the lyrics to "Near You Always". The first two belong to the ever-holy Kevin Smith, the last to the ever-lovely Jewel. Spoilers: many, many Mallrats references Sequels/Series: Kind of a series of angsty little vignettes, all taking place at the same time (or just pre/post) each Askew movie. The series is prequelled by the "No Buzzkill Like the Past" trilogy, but aren't really sequels to either the Buzzkill trilogy or to each other, as they can all be read individually. Notes: Actually, although this is kinda angsty, I think it's kind of sweet. Maybe it's just `cause the song is sweet. Well, that's two Jewel sonfics now...wonder if I should make this a theme... Notes 2: Yes, I know that Mallrats is technically a prequel to Clerks, especially considering the Julie Dwyer reference, but dammit it was filmed later, therefore Jay and Silent Bob are older, therefore it officially happened later because I say so. So there. Neer, neer, neer. =� Notes 3: You definitely want to read the words to this one, whether you like sonfics or not. It just makes the fic that much cuter. Besides, it says a lot of things that I don't. (Hey look, she's getting someone else to say things about someone else's characters! This is a whole new level of laziness on the part of the writer!) Also, I seem to be very comma-happy today. So sue me. Notes 4: On second thought, don't sue me. I take that back. Definitely, do not sue me. Ok, now that that's established, on with it already! ~ Near You Always ~ *Please don't say I love you. Those words touch me much too deeply. They make my core tremble. Don't think you realize the effect you have over me. And please don't look at me like that. It just makes me want to make you near me always.* The entire day was insane. Before they had even left the house, Jay was already confusing the hell out of him. Up for ten minutes and already making strange comments. Bob had tripped in the hall, running into Jay in the process. This had unleashed the usual tirade, with the exception of one phrase. "Well, I know you wanna' fuck me, an' I understand, me being so hot an' all, an' you know I love ya, Lunchbox, just not that way, understand? When are you gonna' figure out that I'm all about the pussy?" `You know I love you? What the hell does that mean? He's never said anything like that before. How am I supposed to take that?' He was entirely lost in thought, so lost that Jay had been talking for another five, maybe ten minutes and he hadn't heard a word of it. Not like it much mattered. "And that's why you gotta' knock it off with all this goin' after my ass shit, `cause you's gonna end up making some fine ass pussy jealous an' if I miss getting laid for your hefty ass I'm gonna hafta represent, an' you don't want me kicking your sorry ass, `cause there ain't gonna be nothing left when I'm done with you." Jay paused, more than likely for breath, rubbed up against Bob suggestively, whirled away again and practically jumped out the door, "Come on, Tons a' Fun, we gots ta' get down to the mall, I wanna' go to the pet store again, get the lead out!" Bob was still playing it over and over in his mind, `You know I love ya, Lunchbox.' He had to have been kidding. He knew Jay was kidding. It didn't make it hurt any less, if anything it made him hurt more, but one of the things that kept him sane was knowing where they stood. As long as Jay was kidding, Bob knew where they stood. Sort of. *Please don't kiss me so sweet, It makes me crave a thousand kisses to follow. And please don't touch me like that, Makes every other embrace seem pale and shallow. And please don't come so close. It just makes me want to make you near me always* All right, quick mental review. In the course of a couple of hours, Bob had now managed to convince Jay that no, he did not need a kitty, kicked the shit out of the Easter Bunny, flown through the air wearing, yes, a quasi-Batman type-outfit, seen the unfortunate effects of a child getting stuck in an escalator, attempted to possibly kill a security guard with a fucking sock, and seen that poor Gwen chick naked, twice. Currently, he was running, trying very hard not to be arrested. Fucking Brodie and TS, he was going to kill them both...as soon as he got himself and Jay very far away from LaFours. Oh shit...dead end. This was...not good. He could not let Jay go to prison. He knew what they did to pretty young things like Jay in prison. `All right, think... ...no... ...no... ...!.... ...grappling hook!' It was a stupid idea, but considering how many other stupid things had happened that day... Success! Up, to relative safety (trying very hard to forget his fear of heights) for the time being. "Where do you get those wonderful toys?" Jay's smile beamed, and Bob was halfway to laughing at the quote when Jay kissed him. Just a little thing, a friendly little peck on the cheek. But coupled with that morning's comment, it sent chills up his spine. He still couldn't get used to how close they were on such a regular basis. Jay still clung to him for quite a few moments after they were back on the ground, and Bob had to physically force himself to let go. God forbid he would be accused of hugging the little homophobe. Oh, Jay could hug him mind you. Jay could hug him, kiss him, offer to go down on him (numerous times), snuggle up to him on the couch, climb into bed with him because he was `scared,' anything really. But if Bob were to so much as look at him the wrong way, well then he was a fucking faggot and should back off, because Jay was, (everybody all together now) `All about the pussy.' It was a mantra by now. Bob was still deciding whether Jay was trying to convince other people or himself. He smiled at this thought and Jay immediately jumped in. "The fuck you smilin' about? Yeah, I know you're thinking `bout how close you just was to my three-piece set. Jesus, is that all you think about?" Bob shook his head, laughing silently. "Come on, we can hide in the bookstore." Jay clapped an arm around Bob's waist, causing a slight chuckle from Bob, and the two waltzed back into the mall as if they had never left. *And please don't bring me flowers, They only whisper the sweet things you'd say. And don't try to understand me. Your hands already know too much anyway. It just makes me want to make you near me always* Walking to the bus stop, it wasn't hard to see how Bob had come up with his nickname for Jay. He was jumping back and forth, talking a mile a minute, stopping every once in a while to toss out another meaningless insult in someone's direction. `Hopping around, screeching loudly, dive-bombing people. Bluejay. Obnoxious but pretty, that's him.' Bob smiled, even as Jay assaulted him with...a handful of dandelions? "Flowers for my Jedi Knight," Jay presented him the `bouquet' with an awkward bow, and then continued as if he had never stopped babbling, "Fuck! That's so fuckin' cool, I can't believe you actually did that shit! Man, if I'd a seen that shit, I'd a been all like..." `Flowers? Well, sonofabitch, he just gave me flowers,' Bob was perplexed, but amused. He looked at the bunch of weeds with slight disdain `Hey, savor it...this may be the closest to long-stemmed red roses he ever comes...' He thought a bit more and suddenly got hung up on semantics, `My Jedi Knight. _My_ Jedi Knight? As in _his_ Jedi Knight?' He frowned, `Was that a figure of speech? He considers me his? Or maybe he just -' "Hey, Lunchbox, what'cha lookin' so pissed for? You pissed? Why're you pissed, I ain't done nothin' ta' getcha pissed at me -" Bob stopped him mid rant with a raised hand and a quick head shake, `I'm not mad at you, why would you think I was?' "You was thinkin' pretty hard about somethin', what'cha thinkin' about?" Jay got into his face, walking backwards and looking very much like a child. A six foot, foul mouthed, horny child, but a child nonetheless. Maybe it was the expectant look in his eyes, or the look of slight worry that, even with assurances, Silent Bob really was mad at him. Bob simply shook his head harder, `You don't want to know. I promise you.' "Dude, you should be psyched right now, you're a fuckin' Force- wielding fiend!" A couple of karate chops punctuated this point, "You should be fuckin' bouncing off the walls or some shit!" Bob shrugged, shook his head a third time. "Fuck, you gonna' just shake your fuckin' head the rest a' the day? Shit, I do not fuckin' get you, Lunchbox. I don't get you at all." Jay turned around again and walked a little ahead of his partner, slightly annoyed at being snubbed. `No, Jay, you do not get me. If you did, you wouldn't like it, trust me. You'd be scared shitless if you knew half the things I thought about you.' Bob frowned again. Jay would probably be scared shitless if he knew Bob was thinking about him at all. Fuck, why did he have to go and think a thing like that for? Now he was in a bad mood. Now he had to drown it out again. He caught up to Jay and clapped a hand on his shoulder, stopping him for a moment. They were at the bus stop anyway. He spoke, in a slightly harsh tone. "Smoke a bowl when we get home?" The sentence wasn't meant to come out as callous as it sounded. He sounded pissed. He hadn't meant to. Jay looked him over once, more than likely triple checking that whatever Bob was pissed about, it wasn't him. He nodded and said something that Bob would have caught had the bus not drowned out his voice. It was probably just as well. He really couldn't take any more of Jay's voice today. *And when you look in my eyes, Please know my heart is in your hands. It's nothing that I understand. But when in your arms, You have complete power over me So be gentle if you please, 'cause Your hands are in my hair, but My heart is in your teeth Baby, and it makes me want to make you near me always.* Silent Bob sat on the living room floor, Jay on the couch above him, legs hooked under Bob's arms with his bare feet in Bob's lap. Bob was in a slightly better mood now, what with the bowl duly smoked, one beer down, one in hand, and John Hughes playing for the third time this week. Not to mention that Jay was playing with his hair again. He seemed to have developed some sort of weird fetish for it. Not that Bob minded, but it was...oh, who was he trying to kid, it was great. He loved having his hair played with, truth be told. It put him in a sort of relaxed, semi-comatose state. Gave him the warm fuzzies as it were. That Jay had decided to make it his latest household pastime was just fine as far as he was concerned. He sighed, relaxed for the first time all day, as he absent-mindedly stroked his thumb along Jay's ankle. Jay was allowing this, it seemed, at least for the time being. In fact, after a few minutes he leaned forward and wrapped his arms around Bob's neck. Well now, this was new. Jay nuzzled against Bob's neck and kissed his cheek for the second time that day. Interesting. Bob closed his eyes, wrapped his arms around Jay's, and the two stayed like that, not moving, not speaking, for a good ten minutes. The thought occurred to Bob that if he were to die right that moment, he would be completely fulfilled. Then Jay broke the silence, leaning into Bob's ear and whispering. "You tell anybody I kissed you and I'll smash in your balls with steel-toes." With that, he gave Bob a little squeeze, dislodged himself, stood up, and casually wandered to his bedroom, shutting the door quietly behind him. Bob leaned his head back against the couch and sighed again, this time in exasperation. Back to square one? Or maybe somewhere in the middle of square 4 1\2 or something. Crazy, crazy day. And he wouldn't have traded it in for anything, because damn it, Jay had kissed him. That was really all he would remember about that day, no matter how many other things may have happened. It was the day Jay kissed him, dutifully filed away in his memory with all the others. The day Jay smiled at him for no reason, then looked embarrassed when discovered. The first day Jay played with his hair. The day Jay gave him a birthday present, a week too late and stolen to boot. These and hundreds of others went into the memory file labeled, "Jay." It was his playback for when he was feeling down, or hurt, or angry. It was his reminder that Jay, underneath all of the bullshit, was his reason for just about everything. Obnoxious or not, he loved the bastard. Even if all he was left with at the end of the day was a head full of good memories. *Want to be near you always. Want to be near you always. Want to be near you always.* ********************************************************************** Ok, time for beddie-bye. The getting-the-warm-fuzzies-when-your-hair- is-played-with is one of mine. Shit damn near puts me to sleep every time. ~*!*~ Mercury (<---who wishes someone would play with her hair, but will settle for feedback.)