Title: Scenario 6: The Fairly OddPairings Author: J'Kitty Fandom: Askewniverse Feedback: As always, on the list if possible, jabinkle@unity.ncsu.edu otherwise Pairing: Uh. Don't hurt me. Rating: NC-17 Disclaimer: Kevin 0wns j00! Archive: Sure, lemme know where. Type: Sunburst Fic Summary: Random Strange Pairings Notes: Hmmm... I haven't pirated any quotes or references this time (except the short Star Wars reference), I don't think. Uh. Except the weird-ass pairing. Uh. I'm sorry. I love you guys. Don't kill me. This one is specially dedicated to starla, because she told me she's kill me if I didn't post it. (The rest of you might kill me _FOR_ posting it..) Before Bob left, he said goodbye to everyone, save Jay (who was nowhere to be found). Brodie and TS saw it as a rather inevitable inevitability. They weren't particularly perplexed. Nor were Banky and Holden. Especially Banky. Bob gave Banky another three months or so before things broke out with him and Holden. Then he went to the Quick Stop, nodded to a few regulars, gave them a wave. They seemed to understand he was going for a while. They waved him goodbye, and wished him well, and Bob left. That was at eleven. At two, Dante and Randal were watching Jerry Springer. "No way that's a guy." Dante said in frustration. "There's no way she can hope to pass as a guy, that's just so... wrong." Randal considered the television gravely, "I don't know man, she's got bigger arms than you do. And hairy." "Arm hair does not make the man." Randal snorted and began to disagree when a very distraught Jay burst into the Quick Stop. "Aight you cocksmokin' clerks, where the hell is my muscle?" A look passed between Randal and Dante. Randal sighed, "Bob's gone." "No shit, Sherlock, where's he at?" Dante cut in before Randal could retort, "We don't know. He came by and said he was leaving. Said he was having some romantic problems." Jay blanched. His mouth open, and then shut. Then, he simply turned and walked out of the store. Another look passed between Dante and Randal. Finally, Dante said, "That was easier than I expected." Randal shook his head at Dante's naivete, "The day is short yet, Obi-Wan." As the day passed, however, Dante began to think that Randal was wrong. Both stores were quiet, devoid of stoner and customer alike. It was almost... boring. Strangely enough, it made Dante long for a little bit of business. As the clock drug on towards nine, Randal wrangled his way to the counter. "Hey man, I'll lock up tonight. Go on home." Dante was puzzled. Never in his entire life had Randal volunteered to do work of his own volition. His puzzlement must have shown, because Randal simply shrugged and replied, "No business at all. Easier to nap in the Quick Stop." Dante rolled his eyes, but left anyway, cautioning Randal to at least lock the door if he was going to sleep. "Yeah yeah. Now go before I change my mind. Or tell the boss you want to open tomorrow." With that, Dante became scarce. Time slowed and dragged. The store closed at eleven, and it was only nine thirty. Randal had sung every song he knew, recited the entire script to "Return of the Jedi" and eaten a full half-aisle of food. The night was simply bland. As he wandered back from raiding the rear freezer for popsicles, he heard a noise outside. He peeked out of the store carefully. Given the neighborhood (and the absence of Bob and Jay), he wasn't just going to jump out and scream "Hey, what's going on!" As it turned out, however, he didn't need caution. A very (very) drunken Jay was simply trying to find the doorknob on the plate glass window of the RST video. Randal sighed. "Jay! Hey Jay! The video store's closed! Dante went home early, so I'm getting the Stop. Come in here!" Jay was startled to the point of nearly losing his balance, but waddled over to the Quick Stop anyway. There, he sat with his back to the counter, drunkenly meditating. To pass the time (and try to get Jay to cheer up), Randal read articles from Maxim, Playboy, and even Reader's Digest. Nothing seemed to faze Jay, however. At 10:45, Randal began to clean. He swept, and organized, and inventoried, all the while keeping a distracted eye on Jay (who, quite frankly, was the quietest he'd ever seen him). At last, eleven o'clock came. He prodded Jay with the toe of one shoe. Jay groaned and staggered to his feet, but nearly collapsed. Randal sighed, and threw one of Jay's arms over his shoulders. "Where do you live?" Jay mumbled something incoherently. Great. Just great. He had an incoherent drunk who couldn't even give his address. He sighed, and drug Jay out to his (newly acquired) car. "Do not yak in my new car," intoned Randal, not sure whether that would actually help. Jay mumbled back, and it sounded like an agreement, so Randal backed into the street and began home. Jay seemed painfully unaware of anything; least of all that Randal was taking him in what was probably the opposite direction of his house. He wasn't quite sure what had sparked Jay to be so smashed, but he was glad that the guy had at least been picked up by someone who wouldn't leave him off in an alley somewhere. The ride wasn't long, but it sure was silent. Jay was in no condition to talk, and (in Randal's experience, anyway) talking to drunks didn't accomplish much. They didn't understand, didn't care, or didn't remember. When Randal finally pulled into his place, Jay looked ready to hurl. He drug Jay from the car, threw open the front door, and heaved him into the bathroom, where Jay lost his drink (thankfully) into the toilet. As Randal held his hair back, he considered the other things he could be doing right now with this moment in his life. Like sleeping, or watching TV, or reading porn magazines. Anything at all in the world would probably be better. After what seemed like ages (but couldn't have been more than fifteen minutes) Jay seemed steady enough to take out of the bathroom. He was even walking on his own. That is, until he wobbled over towards the bed and passed out. Randal sighed a sigh that was somewhere between exasperation and relief. He removed Jay's boots and coat and stuffed him under the covers. Mission completed. Randal's head ached and his back was sore from what amounted to carrying Jay into his house. He chugged a quick Mountain Dew and took a quick shower. Nothing was going to be better than snuggling down in his bed and -- aw fuck. Jay was in his fuckin' bed. _What the fuck_, he reasoned, _it's a king size anyway_. More grumpily (but no less tired) than before, Randal struggled into his flannel PJ bottoms and tossed on an undershirt. Jay had wiggled his way into the middle of the bed. Randal drug him over to one side and crawled in on the other. So far, so good. Jay was sleeping. He wasn't snoring, and he wasn't drooling, and he wasn't kicking. That was ok. Since Randal was expected to open in the morning, he set the alarm for eleven. Then, thankfully, he drifted off into sleep. &&& When he woke, the sun wasn't even up. The clock read three and he wasn't sure why he'd woken up. It was warm, and he was in the middle of the bed, and someone was doing wonderful things to his neck with their lips. Wait a sec. Lips? But he'd gone to sleep with... Jay! He tensed up involuntarily. Jay stopped kissing his neck, and started crying. Jay was crying in his bed. Could the night get any worse? He turned over. Jay's face was tear-streaked and it looked like he'd been crying for a while. Randal sighed and hugged him. "What's wrong? You can tell Randal." The body in his embrace stiffened and Jay said, "I made Bob leave." "You didn't make Bob leave! He said he was having romantic... oh." Jay sniffled, "Yeah. I was the romantic problem. He loved me, and I was an ass to him, because I couldn't change. He wanted me to change! He wanted me to go from being myself to the perfect boyfriend in what, three months? Didn't even tell me what he wanted to do. Just kept fuckin' comparin' me to this damn invisible standard that I didn't know about." After that, Jay's crying had become more muffled and less meaningful. And if there'd been an actual time where Randal's hug had gone from friendly to demanding, neither of them were aware of it. But suddenly, it was very tangible. And suddenly, Randal was knew what was about to happen. He looked at Jay, and Jay knew too. So Randal looked at Jay, and kind of sighed (as Randal always did, when something inevitable and wonderful and yet very stupid was about to happen) and kissed Jay. And for a couple of seconds at the most, Jay very passively allowed Randal to kiss him. And then, he was on the offensive. Jay's tongue invaded Randal's mouth with vigor, tasting him and tracing the contours as though he never expected to taste it again. Then, without warning, Jay rolled on top, and sat straddling his waist. For a few moments, his vision clouded as the blonde on top of him rubbed against his body like some sort of great cat. And Randal ground upwards against him to get the feeling again and again. Jay rose from him slightly, when Randal would have happily made himself come against Jay (who was beautiful, how could he not have noticed...), except that Jay wouldn't let him. He opened his mouth to protest when Jay slid down him, lifting his undershirt above his head, and taking one of his nipples in that gorgeous mouth. Randal arched from the bed wanting to scream or cry or beg for more or just burst into flames. He could feel Jay grinning at him across his stomach, and surely enough, when he could open his eyes again without seeing stars, Jay was grinning like a Cheshire cat. And slowly, (too slowly) he worked down the flannel pajamas and then, there wasn't anything for a while but the beautiful feeling of Jay's tongue across his cock. Without warning, Jay deep throated him, and Randal screamed and bucked into Jay's face and came. And he was grinning again, damn him, and purring at him across his stomach. "Jay..." Randal panted. Jay's great blue eyes shone in the darkness with a beauty of their own, "Whatcha need?" "You. Now. Come on." Jay looked startled, but nodded and searched the stand next to the bed. He finally found some long ignored lotion. Randal was up, and crawling over him, suddenly eager all over again. So Jay squirted a bit of lotion onto his fingers and pushed Randal back down. And as gently as his could, pressed a single finger into the stockier man. Randal squirmed and panted and demanded, "Jay, fuck me now." The words nearly undid him. His cock twitched and for a millisecond, he wanted to plunge himself into Randal up to the hilt. Through clenched teeth he gasped, "Can't. You're still too tight." And slowly, over a million years, he worked another finger in, and another, until Randal was nearly ready to forcibly impale himself on Jay. Finally he pulled his fingers from the other man. With one hand bracing him, and the other holding Randal where he couldn't buck, he slowly (excruciatingly) worked his way into the other man. Randal was ready to cry. He was hard all over again and ready to be fucked properly and Jay was taking his sweet time. After another half century, Jay was seated in Randal. "Don't move," he begged. He was perilously close to shooting, and Randal could feel the muscles in his body tensed and trembling. Then, slowly, too slowly, he began to slide out. And when his pace was quick, Randal began bucking. And when Randal began bucking, Jay's wonderful cock began hitting that spot inside him that he didn't know was there. And when that happened, Randal began groaning. Jay grasped Randal's cock and began working it with his rhythm, until (it seemed like seconds) later Randal was screaming his name, and he came violently. And his already tight muscles clamped down on Jay's cock, and Jay screamed, and came inside him, and then collapsed atop him. When both of their breathing had quieted, and they'd cleaned a bit and Jay had slid as gently as he could from Randal (who could already tell he wouldn't be doing much sitting), the clock read five. Randal bashed Jay with a pillow. "I've got to work tomorrow, damnit. Gotta get up at eleven." Jay smirked back at him, "Doesn't the video store open at ten?" "That's beside the point." Jay wrapped himself bodily around Randal, and the argument was ended. Jay sighed, and Randal snuggled into his warmth. "Thank you... I... I don't know. I needed to feel like I wasn't such a fuck up, you know?" "Yeah. I know. Thanks for waiting until I woke up." Jay couldn't help but laugh, as they both finally sank back into sleep.