Title: Pretzel Logic
Author: Kelandris the Mad
Fandom: View Askewniverse
Pairing: Jay/Silent Bob
Rating: Oh, this is just a pure mush piece, barely sexual at all...damn 
it
Status: New; posted July 2002
Archive: Drop me a note and it's yours. And here's how:
Feedback: kel@crazysheep.net
Series/Sequels: Oh, this might, if only because it's irritating me, 
leaving it as half-done as it is. I swear, this feels like a sketch 
piece.
Disclaimers: No insult is intended...yada yada yada...all respect...yada 
yada yada...rights reserved to Kevin Smith, View Askewniverse and 
Miramax, as well as Jason Mewes...yada yada yada...thank you for not 
suing.
Notes: Something I started several months ago that I started working 
on again tonight, between hands of Magic: the Gathering. Somehow, 
starla-girl's birthday coming up *and* her being in such a Deeply 
Scary Place, jolted this out of me. Hopefully, you all won't think 
it sucks.
Warnings: Oh, please. This is nearly safe enough for church.

"Pretzel Logic"
by Kelandris


"What the hell are you doing?"

When Silent Bob opened the door, Jay looked like a pretzel. The 
blond was supporting himself on his hands, the muscles corded along 
his tanned arms. The golden hair dusting them sparkled in the light 
that slanted through the dusty apartment windows.

Bob blinked, supposing he could be forgiven for speaking, just this 
once. Jay hadn't even looked up yet. He seemed to be counting, his 
lips moving silently over each number. His legs were wrapped around 
his neck, and his midsection swayed forward...swayed back...swayed 
forward...

Bob shook his head, moving into the apartment. No good thinking 
thoughts like that. Thoughts like that only got him sheets he had to 
wash more often. Of course, now, as he moved behind Jay, all he had 
to look at were the flexed muscles of his back under the t-shirt, and 
the golden fall of his long hair, tied back with some scrap of 
cloth. It was red, and cotton, and unprinted; that's all he 
recognized before his eyes moved down Jay's body, the planes of 
muscles curving from ribs to the hollow of his spine, to the barely 
rounded half-globes of his ass--

"Yoga," Jay said, lowering himself to the floor and unwrapping his 
legs from his neck. Bob watched Jay's long feet slither away from 
his shoulders, and swallowed. Flexibility. He knew Jay had 
flexibility. That flexibility had gotten them out of a lot of 
scrapes, actually, and--

**searing flash of Jay naked, Jay pulling those long, *flexible* legs 
towards his ears, his mouth begging, pleading Bob to come on, come 
inside him, come inside him and--**

Bob shook his head, moving into the kitchen, putting the bag of 
groceries he'd gone out for on one of the counters. He listened as 
Jay rose from the carpet and ambled in, long bare feet shuffling 
through the strands of polycellulose. Blindly he put half the bag 
away before what Jay had said registered.

Yoga. He'd said yoga.

"Yoga?" Bob asked, surprised into conversation once more. Then he 
flinched as Jay ran a finger across the back of his neck, forgetting 
to breathe, before the more familiar cackle filled the air. A sharp 
jab into his side took the rest of his breath away.

"Man, you are so fuckin' easy, I swear...musta been some kinda wet 
dream fer you, *comin'* in on me then like ya did..."

The way he leered, the way he stressed the words, made him flush. He 
shook his head, blinking, and moved half a step away. His stunned 
brain handed him line after line of commentary that he ruthlessly 
suppressed from vocalization.

**Yeah, actually, it was,** he thought longingly. **You in those 
bike shorts and that tank top, just...just...*spray-painted* on, and 
why the fuck don't you wear clothes like that outside this house? 
No, you wear sweatshirts and long shorts and leggings and cut-offs 
and big, baggy t-shirts...**

He realized his hands were trembling, and swallowed. Jay looked over 
his shoulder at what was on the counter.

"What, no cigs? You brain-dead or somethin'? Man, we *need* smokes, 
dude, need smokes *bad*!"

Right. He nodded spastically, turning and walking out of the kitchen.

"Where you goin' now, fat ass?"

Bob risked one look over his shoulder, running his eyes almost 
palpably over the outline of muscled curves, the bulge underneath 
thin black spandex at Jay's crotch. Shit. He had to leave. He had 
to go. He had to--

"Get smokes," he gasped, opening the door and stepping outside.

There didn't seem to be enough air in his lungs, and he was gasping 
for a long while on his walk to the Quick Stop. Hour on the bus to 
the damn store, hour back, and all to leave the house again because 
Jay was being...being...

What the hell was Jay being? And where the fuck had he learned yoga?

He turned around, intending to start back, and found Jay strolling 
about half a block behind him. He stifled a shriek, and slowly 
inhaled, his mind seizing on higher number functions in a desperate 
attempt to calm down. Square root of 81. Sine and cosine of 5,060. 
Find seven procedures to solve this equation: x plus y equals 49.

**Okay. Okay. We're fine, man, we're just fine. Stop seeing your 
roommate naked. Fuck, get a grip.**

"Man, you look freaked as shit, dude," Jay said, the corners of his 
mouth quirking. "What the hell is goin' on in that big head?"

Bob frowned, shaking his head slightly. **Big head. I'll show you a 
fucking big head--**

He froze, twitching slightly. **Shit. *Breathe*, motherfucker! 
Mother of God, he's going to figure you out--**

Breathing unsteadily again, he patted his pockets carefully for cigs, 
pulled out a battered half-pack, and lit two cigarettes by habit. He 
inhaled, letting the crisp, acrid smoke circulate in his lungs, then 
handed the other cig to Jay, who took it and breathed in grey smoke 
gratefully.

"Fuck, man, that's almost better'n sex," he sighed, exhaling smoke in 
a long stream.

Bob's brain seized again. His body, thankfully, was still capable of 
functioning on previous orders. It turned him around and began 
marching him towards the Quick Stop. Jay, still smiling, walked 
around in front of him.

"I don't think so, Silent Bob," he said, his voice soft and scratchy.

Bob blinked. **What now?**

"You should come back wit' me--I can show you some o' this shit 
Lise's been teachin' me--c'mon!"

And he burst into a run.

Silent Bob scowled after him, following only after long 
consideration. He might have known. Lise was Jay's latest--
something. He didn't know what. She came over, they spent long 
hours in his room, but it didn't sound like they were in there 
screwing their brains out. A lot of giggling, actually, more than 
anything else.

So Lise knew yoga. He wondered darkly what else she'd been teaching 
Jay, as he followed him up the stairs. It hit him like an almost 
physical blow, watching that trim ass take the stairs in spandex--he 
couldn't believe he hadn't noticed that before.

**Shit, man, find a fucking hobby. Other than boning the boy. 
You're gonna go crazy here...**

And just that simply, they were back in the apartment. Down to four 
cigs, he knew, and he'd be leaving again when those were out. But 
Jay didn't seem to care. In fact, he walked over to Bob, pulling at 
the larger man's arm until he'd walked him to the center of the room.

"Siddown already," Jay said. He promptly collapsed into a knotted 
position that looked uncomfortable as hell. Bob raised his eyebrows, 
but shrugged out of his trench, throwing it onto the couch. With a 
slight grunt of effort, he folded himself up on the floor.

Jay just shook his head, blue eyes twinkling. " `Kay, now, breathe."

**What?**

"You heard me. Just breathe for a while. Close your eyes."

Licking his lips nervously, he closed his eyes, breathing in. He 
tried to take deep breaths, but he began to focus on Jay's breathing 
instead. Soon he was breathing silently, shallowly, listening to 
Jay. Inhale. Hold. Exhale. Inhale. Hold. Exhale. Inhale. Hold-
-

"Bob!"

His eyes snapped open. "What?"

"You gotta *breathe*, man! Fuck!" He scooted around behind him, and 
Bob immediately went rigid. Jay snorted, brushing his mid-length 
hair aside and wrapping his hands around his shoulders. He clenched 
his hands, and then started slowly kneading the tension from Bob's 
neck and shoulder muscles.

"That...feels really good," Bob managed to gasp. **Oh, Lord. I'm 
doomed,** he thought.

"Good," Jay said. He moved closer, and now Bob could feel the heat 
of his body against the thin fabric of his black sweatshirt. The 
hands rubbed up the column of his neck, fingers tangling in the short 
hairs at his nape, making him gasp. They moved back down, rubbing 
along his shoulders, rubbing along his upper arms, squeezing and 
relaxing.

"That's better," Jay said. "You're relaxing."

Bob clenched his eyes shut, willing his body to go limp, to just 
accept this for what it was, nothing more. Sheer will carried him 
through, forcing his body to go soft and rubbery, forcing his half-
hard cock to soften.

**Okay. Okay. Just breathe. This doesn't mean anything. He just 
cares for you. He--**

The hands danced up the back of his neck again, the fingertips 
trailing over Bob's very sensitive ears.

**Oh, shit--**

With a strangled moan, he pivoted, grabbing Jay and pulling him 
forward, plastering a kiss on Jay's still-smiling lips.

**Oh fuck--oh fuck oh fuck oh fuck oh--**

But...Jay didn't seem to mind. Jay was...oh, Lord. Jay was kissing him 
back.

Suddenly the half of him that had been rigidly tense relaxed, and the 
half that had started to go soft went rigid. Jay's elbow brushed up 
against his crotch and he pulled back, staring at Bob.

"Damn, Silent Boom. You are one dense motherfucker. You just 
figuring this shit out now?"

He shrugged, feeling dazed. This was happening too fast, this was 
all happening too fast, his brain couldn't keep up. Slow down, he 
wanted to plead, slow down and let me know if you're really serious, 
let me know this isn't just some hallucinatory nightmare I'm going to 
wake up from later--

Jay watched his eyes, laughing slightly. "Man, oh man, Lise tol' me 
you were slow." 

Then his eyebrows danced, wickedly arched. "Hey," he 
whispered. "Bob."

Bob looked up. He was so stunned at this point, he knew his eyes, 
his face, was completely open. Yearning, want, confusion--it was all 
there, frighteningly easy to see. What the hell would Jay do?

"How slow are ya?" he asked.

And the minutes stretched into hours. Suddenly, he had exactly the 
right amount of time.

END
*************
Kelandris the Mad
we stood and talked for hours