Title: Seeds of the Pomegranate (pt. III)
Author: Kelandris the Mad
Fandom: View Askewniverse
Pairing: Jay/Silent Bob
Rating: NC-17, this section, beginning in PG-13-land. 
Status: New
Feedback: kel@crazysheep.net
Archive: Yes if you tell me
Series/Sequel: Answer to Meghan's Goth Bob challenge.
Disclaimer: All characters belong to Kevin Smith and the View 
Askewniverse, save for Avriel, who worked very hard at the Spirit 
Superstore during the Hallows season here in Spokane. Very cool 
lady; I hope she comes in to the shop soon so we can talk more.
Notes: Yes, Avriel is a real person, but this is my creation of her, 
not actually her; not that I need to make the point, but still. This 
was written in slashes to three strange soundtracks-scattered 
childrens' programming, New Age music, and repeated viewings of the 
Buffy the Vampire Slayer episode, "Once More with Feeling". 
And "Curl Up and Dye" may be somewhere in New Jersey, I haven't 
checked; but I know it's here in Spokane. Sadly, it's not a goth 
outlet.
Warnings: Some chick action with Bob. Oh, please, deal-he gets Jay 
in the end. :>
Summary: Bob helps a girl by going undercover in a goth club.

"Seeds of the Pomegranate"
by Kelandris


The Last Step: Orpheus Walks from the Underworld

Jay wasn't as stupid as everyone seemed to think he was. He knew 
Avriel owned a shop somewhere downtown, and he hopped on a bus, 
riding down the strip until he found the heaviest concentration of 
clown-faced motherfuckers. He got off, scanning the names. 
Unimpressed. The Shop. Ovo Loco Body Piercing. And on the next 
street, Trieste and Curl Up and Dye.

Jay was pretty sure one of those two was the business Avriel worked 
in. He hung out in a coffeeshop across the street, watching both 
stores for two hours, until Avriel walked out of the hair place. He 
blinked, rubbing his eyes. That black-haired guy with the face 
paint...That couldn't be...Shit...that *couldn't* be Bob, could it??

He watched as they got into a cab, and waited until he was sure they 
were out of sight. Tossing a few bills on the table, he ran across 
the street and into Curl Up.

"Hey," he said to the first girl he saw. "Friend of mine was in 
here, came in brown-haired, just left with shiny black hair."

The girl with the Mohawk shrugged, making the blue spikes wobble a 
bit. "Yeah?" she said.

"Well, uh...You know where he's going?"

She smiled wickedly, leaning forward. "Like you'd last two seconds 
in the Pom, lookin' like that."

"The Pom? They're going to the--hey, uh, thanks!" And he ran back 
out, racing to the next bus stop. He checked his watch. It'd take 
him a half hour to get there walking, an hour by bus. Sighing, he 
set off by foot.

By the time he'd reached the club, he'd been hit on five times, made 
three sales, and had an uncomfortable encounter in a back alley with 
a former parole officer. The side of one jaw was bruising slightly, 
and the skin across one of his left knuckles was split. He got to 
the line in front of the club, and despaired of ever getting in, and 
then a girl in a plum-colored velvet gown stepped forward, smiling.

"Let this one in, Marcus," she said softly. Her voice was like 
bells, and Jay was briefly entranced.

"Whatever you say, Lady Sylver," and Marcus ushered him inside.

"All *right*," he said softly, turning to thank the girl. She 
sneered, pushing him against the wall, and raised his bleeding hand 
to her mouth. He watched, fascinated, as she sucked at the knuckle, 
drawing a trickle of blood out of him.

**Motherfuck...**

"Hey," he said aloud, "you sure about that? I could have all kinds'a 
diseases and shit."

"But you don't," she said, stepping back and dropping his hand. She 
looked slightly flushed, and there was an impression of black lips on 
the back of his hand.

"I don't know that," he said, as she walked away.

"Welcome to the Pom," she tossed back over her shoulder. "Hope you 
survive..."

**Survive??** And he walked out of the hallway, into the main floor 
of the club.

"Holy *fuck*," he said. **Bob's in *this* madhouse?**

The entire high-ceilinged space was painted black. Silver cages hung 
at intervals from the ceiling, with people either chained inside 
rattling at the cages and moaning, or girls in strips of leather and 
metal dancing for all they were worth. The music pounded thought to 
shreds, reducing everything to pulse-pounding beat. He was 
definitely the odd man out, from the looks he was getting. The guys 
looked like they wanted to beat him up, or worse. The third one to 
lick his lips when he saw him made him swallow uncomfortably. 
Definitely worse. The girls, though...

One pressed a spiked bracelet onto his arm, and was gone before he 
could thank her. Another draped a length of chain around his neck, 
buckling it in back. For a long scary moment he thought she'd put 
him on a chain, until she realized it was hers she was holding out 
behind him. He shook his head, and she just looked vaguely 
disappointed, fading back into the dancers. Another girl, busy 
spraypainting one section of wall, spraypainted the back of his 
shirt. He turned on her, angrily, and she turned him so he could see 
the symbol on the back. He didn't know what it was, but he'd seen it 
on several guys here.

"Protective camouflage, my pretty," she said, and went back to 
painting black lines on the black wall. Jay just shook his head. 
Had to find Bob. Had to find Bob and get the fuck back to Leonardo, 
man. Soon as fucking possible.

He drifted deeper into the crowd, looking.

On the other side of the dance floor, Avriel introduced her friends 
to a young man she named Orpheus. Suddenly young Orpheus had nearly 
every girl in the place stroking his silks and velvets. It wasn't 
uncomfortable, Bob thought, it just wasn't what he was here to do. 
He leaned in towards Avriel.

"Where?" he whispered, close to her ear.

She pointed with her chin. In an open back room were two high-backed 
chairs, all dark wood and red velvet. A thin rake of a man was in 
one, eyes burning hollows in his face, mouth thin-lipped and pursed. 
In the other was Alice, Avriel's sister. She looked as tense and 
uncomfortable as Bob felt. He pushed through the crowd only to be 
pulled back by Avriel.

Her lips were very close to his ear. "Ask Alice to dance. Lord 
Damon can't refuse, that's why he has her on display tonight. Dance 
to the other side of the floor, there's a side exit there. I'll have 
a car waiting." She stepped back into the crowd then, and vanished. 
Great. His big chance to play James Bond.

He looked down, frowning slightly. James Bond in drag. Then he 
caught his reflection in a set of ornate mirror shards glued to one 
wall. Well, James Bond in really *good* drag.

He stepped forward, cocking his head to one side. With a flourish he 
didn't know he possessed, he bowed before Alice, sweeping his hair to 
one side and looking up.

"My lady," he said softly. "Wilt thou dance with this poor soul?"

Damon looked over at that, frowning, then looked at Alice. She 
shrank back into the chair. 

"And you are?"

"Orpheus, my lord, a wanderer, far from home." Where the hell was 
this coming from? He was going to see right through him, send his 
bully boys by the thrones forward and--

"Go on, then," Damon said roughly. He gestured towards Alice, then 
turned his attention back to whatever one of his boys had been 
saying. The girl sighed, but she rose, stepping lightly towards 
Bob. Whatever she wore was blood-red and cut to her curves 
precisely, stopping just above her thighs and lightly muscled calves, 
which were bare to a set of high-heeled ankle boots. Sighing again, 
she took hold of Bob's outstretched hands, letting him guide her onto 
the dance floor. She draped her arms around him, pressing her body 
close, and for a moment, Bob forgot why he was there. His hands fell 
to her hips, pulling her closer, and the music surrounded them, 
pounding and vital, making them tingle and sway to the beat vibrating 
through them. Then he looked down, catching sight of the pain in her 
grey eyes, and sighed himself. He leaned down, putting his lips 
close to her ear.

"Avriel sent me," he whispered. She jerked as if stung, then darted 
a look over towards the back room. She leaned up, her lips grazing 
Bob's earlobe.

"He'll never let me go," she said. "Never."

"He might. Avriel's just through that door," he said, pointing with 
his chin. "If we dance over there--"

"It's guarded. You can't take me through. But..." She paused, 
thinking. "If you walk over, and I follow, maybe...You can't look 
back, though. Then he'll know we're together. You just have to 
drift around and move towards the door. I just have to follow you."

"If you think that would work...?"

The song was ending. She nodded frantically. "It has to." She 
stepped back, curtseying, and he bowed, already turning away as if 
bored. He watched in the shards of mirror as she drifted back to the 
throne room, fanning herself as if overheated.

"I'd like some air, Damon," he caught her saying, then she moved out 
of range. He swallowed. This has to work, he thought. This has 
to...

...Jay. He blinked. That was Jay. Jay was *here*. Why the hell 
was--

*Shit*. He clenched his eyes shut for a moment. Paranoia boy must 
be thinking he was off on a date. Why he even cared...It was almost 
like he was...jealous?

No. Bob shook his head. He knew he'd had feelings for the li'l 
sonic boom just about from the first month they'd been roommates. 
But first Jay had been too young, then Jay had been too bitter. Then 
Jay had been something else or other, and by then the insults had 
started. Tubby bitch. Tons-o-fun. Lunchbox. *Lunchbox*, by 
God...where the hell had *that* one come from??

And all the gay shit that had started in the past two years. Like 
he'd ever let it slip now he wanted to kiss the boy, when that was 
all Jay seemed capable of talking about, how goddamned straight he 
was, and how Bob was always after a piece. Shit, nothing worse could 
happen.

He shrugged again, firming his resolve. He'd just have to ignore 
him, that was all. He caught a flash in the mirror of Alice turning 
out of the main room, and turned himself, away from the mirror to 
walk along the outside wall. Peripheral vision showed him Jay 
looking shocked and surprised, then overcome by something, and 
angling towards him. He couldn't see Alice, and he knew if he turned 
around, something would happen. Damon would know somehow. And that 
would be the end of the attempt. Not including, of course, the sure 
possibility of getting badly beaten--how many men in the Pom were 
Damon's?

He walked along the wall, nodding at the boys, trailing a languid 
hand down the faces of the girls. He heard behind him Jay cursing, 
and shook his head. Architecture, he thought, become fascinated with 
the architecture...He looked up just as he was spun around from 
behind.

It was Jay.

"What the hell, dude? What the fucking hell?"

He cocked his head to one side, blinking. "Are you addressing me?" 
he said in a bored voice.

"Addressing you, undressing you, redressing you--whatever, dude! I 
just want to know what the hell is going on! Why you're dressed like 
the fucking Crow on a binge!"

"Pardon," growled a low voice near both men. They turned to see one 
of the bouncers. He still couldn't see Alice, and couldn't turn to 
look now. Was this one of Damon's men?

"Yes?" Bob said, still in that weirdly disaffected voice.

"Is this...*infant*...bothering you, sir?"

"Call me infant again and I'll clock you one, bondage-boy," Jay 
growled.

Bob only sighed, raising a hand and flailing it slowly.

"Nothing that won't be solved by...a little air," he said softly, 
struck by inspiration.

"Oh. Yeah. *That's* rich, dude. Lie to me, come sneakin' off here 
to the freakshow, an' then get in a few back-alley punches. Oh, 
that's just *per*fect!"

"I see, sir," the bouncer said, moving away. "A...private 
disturbance. Do let me know if things get...out of hand."

"Most assuredly," Bob murmured, and pointed towards the side 
exit. "After you, my...*dear* boy."

Jay's face suffused with red and his lips curled back.

"Oh, you are *so* gonna pay for that crack, tubs..." But he stalked 
over to the side door, not even noticing the lithe girl in red who 
slipped out ahead of him. In fact, only one of the bouncers noticed--
the one who was watching Jay and Bob leave. Frowning, he followed, 
out to the alley.

Alice was waiting when Jay and Bob emerged. Two seconds later, a cab 
pulled into the alley, Avriel leaning out a window, gesturing wildly.

"Come on, guys! Get in!" She opened the door, waving them forward.

"Vree?" the girl in red said shakily. "It's...it's really you?"

"It's really me, Alice-Alice, but you have to hurry! Before they--"

And the back door opened. The bouncer stepped through quietly, 
shaking his head.

"I am sorry, miss. I don't see how I can allow this." He raised his 
fists, bowing slightly as he brought the knuckles together. Alice 
shrank back against the cab, and Avriel leaned out, pulling her 
inside.

"Close the door!" she hissed. But Alice seemed frozen, staring in 
horror out of the open door.

Jay threw up his hands. "OKAY!" he screamed. "I have *HAD* *IT* 
with all this costume shit!" And he ran forward, winding up his fist 
and driving it hard into the bouncer's jaw. He went down and Jay 
didn't stop, kicking him in the sides until Bob pulled him away, 
running for the cab.

"Exit stage left," he said, smiling at Avriel. Then he shut the 
door, pounding on the roof of the cab. It sped off into the night, 
both girls looking out the back window at Jay and Bob's dwindling 
figures. Meanwhile, Bob grabbed Jay's hand and pulled him onto the 
main street, into a second alley, down that to the back street and 
ran for a bit, exhilarated. He could hear Jay bitching behind him, 
but it wasn't until he pulled him into a third alley that he learned 
why.

"Man, my hand's all bleeding and shit again, and that had to be the 
one you fuckin' grabbed!"

Bob looked down. There was a dark glistening streak of blood on his 
palm.

"I'm sorry," he said softly.

"Yeah," Jay said, looking at the torn skin. Then he tightened his 
hand into a fist, pulling it back and looking up.

"You fucking *should* be sorry, shithead! I hadda spend all day 
worrying about your ass joining some weird new cult, or running off 
with that chick, and you couldn't have even written me a goddamned 
*note*?" He stepped forward, and for a moment, Bob was absolutely 
sure he was going to get cold-cocked.

Then Jay dropped the fist, hands hanging limply at his sides.

"I mean...what the fuck, man? I didn't know where you were. I hadda 
find you, track you down, like some stranger. I mean...that's fucked 
up, you know?"

He knew. Suddenly, he knew, and the half-smile on his face from 
getting away from the Pom intact broadened. Jay had been worried 
about him. Jay had been *very* worried about him. Which meant...Jay 
cared for him. Maybe...could he hope for this?...as much as Bob 
cared for Jay.

He stepped forward, touching Jay's face where the swelling was.

"Orpheus doesn't always have to lose," he whispered.

"What the fuck are you on now, fat boy? My God, if I haveta listen 
to any more of your shit--"

"Shhh," he said, pushing him back against the alley wall. He stepped 
closer, just looking down into those deep, burning blue eyes. Anger 
turned to confusion, which turned to...could it be hope? Then panic 
rose and Jay stiffened in his arms. Stupid boy, not to know. Then 
he laughed at himself. Stupid Bob, not to know what Jay knew. 
Stroking a strand of limp gold from Jay's forehead, he kissed the 
place where his fingers had been. Jay inhaled sharply. He leaned 
down, tilting Jay's head up and kissing gently along the line of 
bruised flesh. He thought Jay stopped breathing for that moment. 
Then he tilted Jay's head down again, and finally kissed the lips 
that had taunted him all these years.

For this, for one taste of Jay, he'd take whatever came after. 
Beatings, abuse, the end of the friendship--he was ready. He was 
hoping it wouldn't go that way, but he was ready. He could take it. 
For this one, sweet kiss.

Didn't work out that way. Jay whimpered, pulled away, eyes large and 
staring.

"You...you...I didn't...I..." And suddenly Jay moved in his arms, 
slamming *him* against the alley wall, still whimpering. He stroked 
his hands up Bob's silk shirt, fighting with the little buttons, 
kissing him savagely. His mouth was open, his tongue forcing its way 
into Bob's mouth, and Bob felt his cock stiffen, just feeling Jay 
squirming against him.

"Ah...God...yeah...*fuck*, *fuckin'* buttons, I can't--" He pulled 
back, preparing to tear the shirt off, and Bob seized his hands.

"No, don't," he gasped. "It's silk."

"I don't care if it's bat leather, get it off, man! I gotta...I--" 
And he was kissing Bob again, pressing against him so tightly it was 
hard for Bob's fingers to unbutton the shirt. Finally it was open, 
and Jay moaned, scorching kisses down his torso, across his nipples, 
tangling his fingers in the brown curled hair. Bob closed his eyes, 
drowning in sensation, leaning back against the wall. He heard snaps 
unsnap, and his eyes snapped open, looking down.

Jay was on his knees, tugging the velvet pants down, shaking his head.

"What, she *pour* you into these, Lunchbox? Fuck, not that you don't 
look good, but...oh, yeah, there you are...Holy *fuck*, Lunchbox, 
you're *hung*!"

Bob blinked. He'd never thought of it that way. In fact, he'd 
thought he was about--

"AHHH!" His mouth widened into an `o' of surprise; Jay had engulfed 
him, swallowing all of him he'd been able, the moment he'd looked up 
again. Jay was trembling, his hands clenching, and he was making odd 
strangled sounds. But he kept sucking, and Bob clenched his eyes 
shut--he couldn't watch that blond head bobbing at his crotch and not 
lose it entirely.

One hand mutely reached for Bob, and Bob held it, leaning down to 
kiss the fingertips. They tasted like nicotine and pot, and he 
smiled, licking the pads as Jay moaned against him. Jay was 
thrusting against his leg now, sucking on him so hard, and Bob began 
to twitch. Jay pulled off enough to kiss along the length of him, 
nipping him lightly, lips only.

"Oh, yeah, baby," he breathed. "Come on, Bob, come for me, come for 
me, `kay?" And he swallowed him again.

Fuck, it was good...It was good, Jay was good, oh, *God*, Jay was 
good-He couldn't stop himself; he started thrusting against Jay's 
face, little hip jerks while he breathed Jay's name, just at the 
audible range.

"Ummm," Jay said. "A-mmm..." His hands clenched in Bob's silks. He 
was whimpering again, licking the tip of Bob's cock, and then his 
tongue licked over the fluttering slit at the tip and Bob couldn't 
hold it back. He arched, crying out, crying Jay's name, and jetted 
into Jay's open mouth, looking down in astonishment as Jay tried to 
swallow all he could.

Bob helped him stand; he was still shaking, and his legs weren't 
steady yet. He waited a few moments, nuzzling against Jay's neck as 
he moaned and twitched, then he carefully knelt, undoing Jay's pants.

"Jesus, Bob, what the fuck are you--" Jay was looking around 
frantically. Bob just shook his head, pulling down his shorts and 
his pants.

Well, now he saw why Jay had been so impressed. Jay wasn't small, by 
any means, but he was narrower in width than Bob, and there was a 
slight curve to one side that grew more pronounced, the more Jay got 
aroused. Bob looking at Jay's cock was all it seemed to take. Then 
Bob leaned forward, licking at the tip. He was a little unsure; he'd 
never done this before. But Jay's huge gasp above him convinced him 
he was at least on the right track.

For Jay's part, he'd thought the night couldn't get any better--or 
weirder--than him on his fucking knees, blowing Bob. Now he was 
looking down, seeing those nearly black lips sucking him in, those 
nearly black lips that belonged to Bob, for Christ's sake, and he 
almost shot his load right then. Breath shuddered out of him, and he 
felt like he was going to collapse onto the alley floor. Bob's arms 
snaked around his hips, holding him up, and he whimpered, leaning 
forward.

"Fuck, Bob, fuck yeah, fuck...fuck..." He gasped Bob's name over and 
over, tangling his fingers in Bob's newly black hair. "Oh yeah, oh, 
yeah, oh God..."

Slowly, Bob sucked him in, the feeling of a man's cock in his mouth 
entirely novel. He didn't know in this moment if this was something 
he'd always wanted. He did know Jay had been something he'd always 
wanted. And he had no idea what to expect after this. Jay's skin 
tasted salty, and the drops that he licked from the tip of Jay's cock 
tasted musky, salty, like...like...He didn't know. He didn't have a 
comparison. Other than it was good, what he was doing felt good, and 
he wanted to do more of it...His tongue danced patterns along the 
senstive skin in his mouth, and Jay whimpered louder.

"Oh, man...fuck, man, fuck, Bob, I'm gonna...I can't, I can't, I 
can't I can't hold back, it's too much, too fucking much, I'm gonna--
I'm gonna--*COME!*" he cried, and arched his hips forward, head 
flying back to crack against the brick.

"Ugnh..." He staggered along the wall, pulling free of Bob's seeking 
mouth. Conscious of the silk still, he pulled to one side, letting 
Jay jet onto the pavement. Then he stood, supporting Jay over to 
some wooden crates in the middle of the alley.

"Hit my fuckin' head," the blond said dizzily.

"I guess so," Bob said. He pulled up Jay's pants, chancing a light 
caress, and delighted in Jay's whimpered moan. Fastening them, he 
then turned to his own, pulling them up, snapping them closed. He 
reached for his shirt.

"No, not yet," Jay breathed.

"What?"

Jay leaned forward, licking the skin along his collarbone, hands on 
his nipples. He moved his mouth into the hollow of Bob's throat, and 
Bob stopped breathing for a moment himself. Then Jay's mouth was 
against his ear, licking at it, biting the earlobe, and Bob whimpered.

"Gotta get you home," Jay said after a bit. "Get you into a shower, 
get all this crap off you, that you do *not* need to be pretty, and 
then get you in bed. Gotta have more of you, man...Can I have more 
of you?"

Bob pulled back, shouldering Jay to his feet. He held the younger 
man close, looking at him.

"All of me you want, Jay. As long as you want."

"Good." Then Jay chuckled, blinking heavily. "Dude, you are *so* my 
bitch now..."

"Don't even start," Bob growled. "Let's find the bus stop."

"Yeah," Jay gasped, hands digging at Bob's waistband. "Then let's 
find a bed."

Bob shook his head, laughing. Yeah. *Yeah*. Sometimes Orpheus gets 
the Jay.

END
*****
Kelandris the Mad
the wreckage of my past is haunting me