Title: Tangle
Fandom: View Askewniverse
Pairing: Jay/Silent Bob
Rating: NC-17 PWP, holiday-based and so, so bad
Status: posted to the list 23 December 2004
Archive:  The traditional places.  If you don't know what the
traditional places are, you might want to write and ask.  And here's how:
Feedback: kel@crazysheep.net
Series/Sequels: Sequels "Portrait", so I suppose this makes this the
second in the Flannel Jay series.  Aaargh.
Disclaimers:  Kevin Smith, View Askew Productions, Jason Mewes and
Scott Mosier have creative control and ownership of Jay and Silent
Bob, not me.
Notes:  This is all starla's fault.  Still.  But hey, Jay's recovered
from mono.  Now if he can just recover from Christmas...Oh, and the
end tone of this piece radically changed from the beginning, because
between writing the first half and finishing the last half, I saw
*National Treasure*, and...it affected my language. :)
Summary:  Jay tries to surprise Bob by a fully decorated
apartment...in his own inimicable style.
Warnings:  Boykissing, boygroping, some boysucking.  Yeah, you know
that already.  And Christmas light torture.


"Tangle"
by Kelandris

Six months later and Bob was still wearily climbing the stairs to his
apartment, sans the Sonic Boom.  Only this time Jay wasn't sick.  In
fact, Jay had pretty much recovered completely, save for a bit more
tiredness than usual, some problems with low energy.  Bob was feeding
him up right and making him take it easy.  Well, *trying* to make him
take it easy--he only had *so* much self-restraint, after all. 
Eventually, always, Bob hit a breaking point.  He couldn't take it any
more, looking at Jay, sitting on the couch being beautiful.  He had to
take Jay back to one of the bedrooms, kiss every inch of skin he could
reach, hold him close and make him scream.

Yeah, well, that was in the off-times.  Just now, over the past month,
he'd been doing more warehouse work.  Because he had the experience
from Uncle Saul, he'd been able to get a temp gig closer to home, and
the overtime made his eyes cross--$45 an hour, depending on how
important whatever shipment was to get unpacked.  He'd been saving it
up, saving for something special, and he could finally relax for a
while.  He thought he'd just take January off, make up for all the
long hours.  Stay home, spend time with Jay.  Take Jay wherever he
wanted.  Make Jay happy.

Really, that was all he'd ever wanted to do in the first place.

But yeah, last night working, last night dragging home.  Shit, he
could sleep in tomorrow.  Man, that was all he'd been dreaming of,
too, past two weeks now at least.  Well, that, and Jay flat-out on the
bed, Bob with an ankle in each hand and--

He turned the knob on the apartment door and stepped into darkness. 
He blinked, confused.  Okay, it was never completely dark, they lived
on a scarily well-lit corner--two big orange sodium spots fore and aft
of the building, one silver halide oval out on the side street. 
*That* shit had come about when Leonardo and Highlands went into their
big Save-Our-Streets push, to make everything `safer'.  Yeah, safer
for *who*, that was what he wanted to know.  Shit, if you knew who to
avoid, then you weren't there when the bad shit went down.  And if you
knew the bad guys in the neighborhood...fuck, sometimes they'd watch
your back *for* you, you were polite, didn't knock their rep.  Maybe
tossed `em a bag now and again.  It all worked out.

 So there were trails of orange and white light snaking through the
blinds, but not damn much else.  Outlined bits of silver glitter here
and there around the windows, though, flash that he couldn't quite
make translate into a shape he recognized.  And there was something in
the main part of the room, and automatically, he changed his stance,
crouching a bit, raising his arms in case he had to take someone out.

*Click*.

One click, the room had light.  Quick dart of eyes, no predators
visible, other than him.  He started to relax, standing up, and froze,
slightly bent over, breathing out...and out...and out.

**Holy fucking shit,** he thought, his eyes going wide.

First off, the place was clean.  Nothing on the table but a green
envelope addressed to him.  Nothing on the breakfast counter.  Carpet
even looked vaccuumed.  Silver garland graced all the windows, and
there was red, fluffier garland around the outside of the TV screen. 
Nothing in any of that, though, was what had stolen his breath.

Jay had.  Again.  For the second fucking time, Jay had made it
physically impossible for Bob to breathe, and he watched the sheen
across those glittering teal eyes, and was fairly sure the fucker
*knew* what kind of effect he had.  Especially dressed in--

"Breathe, tubs," Jay said softly.  And grinned.

He was on the floor, naked, his legs slightly spread.  Behind him was
the Christmas tree they'd found three weeks ago, but all the lights
were gone.  Well, they weren't *gone*, they were wrapped around
various parts of *Jay*, and *that* had made things a bit hard on the
breathing for a while.  Red and green flashing lights were wrapped
around his arms, amber and blue steady-burns were wrapped around his
torso, surmounted by loops of gold-white fairy lights.  Worst of all,
he'd dug out two strands of purple lights, little tiny ones, and he'd
wrapped one of those around his head, holding his hair back.  The
other set was wrapped in loops around his cock.  Which was just about
as hard as he'd ever seen it.

Bob slowly knelt, inhaling as he went, and Jay smiled at him approvingly.

"Good, you're breathin'.  About fuckin' time, silent mother--FUCKER!"

Jay screamed as Bob leaned in, licking and biting at one of Jay's
tight little nipples, and just for a moment, Bob slid his face across
the strange textured surface that was Jay right now.  Heated little
points of light, chill skin in between slick wires...Hmm.

He rose again, turning to the wall, listening with a huge grin to Jay
screaming imprecations behind him.  `Where the fuck YOU goin', ya fat
fuck?' was the most polite, and he inched the thermostat on the wall
up another five degrees, before turning around, impression perfectly
schooled to the innocent look he'd practiced all his life.

Jay blinked.  Jay shut his mouth.  Jay blinked some more.

"Oh," he finally said.

Bob shrugged.  **You looked cold,** he thought, and knelt back down. 
He brushed back Jay's hair with his fingers, ran his hand down his
torso, just starting to tremble a bit--and not from cold.  He set in
to the slow, slow process of unwinding the boy.

Five minutes later, Jay told him *he'd* do it, and to back off.  Bob
refused, placing his hands in such a way that Jay would have to fight
past him to unwind the lights.  He counted to ten in his head until
Jay had reached the angriest he was going to get, just then, without
any additional impetus.  Then he leaned forward and kissed him.  All
the anger defused, leaving Jay blinking in confusion, swaying in his
net of lights.

Ten minutes later Jay began begging for some wire cutters, and Bob
just shook his head, ducking it so Jay couldn't see his smile.  He
wrapped lights as he went, figuring they could be draped back on the
tree the next day, and carefully separated out amber from blue, red
from green, purple from everything.  Save for the last purple
strand--while his hands touched every other inch of Jay's skin, and
Jay was reduced to a mass of pleading moans and whimpers, he never
even came *close* to Jay's weeping cock.

At this point Jay himself was near tears, leaning in whenever Bob gave
him the chance, rubbing glow-washed skin over Bob's roving hands.  Bob
kissed him whenever he was given the opportunity, which was often. 
Each kiss deepened, grew, and Bob still carefully separated lights. 
Amber in four little piles, blue in four slightly larger ones.  Red in
two little looped areas.  Green piled on top.

And he was down to the purple, being carefully, so carefully, pried
loose from Jay's hair.  Jay was shuddering now, staring at him mutely,
breathing hard, and Bob was having a difficult time himself, hiding
the smile.  God, he liked this image.  He had the feeling he was going
to wake up to the memory of Jay aglow for...fuck, *years*, probably. 
Damn.

One purple strand, looped carefully, placed on the carpet.  And Bob
looked down.

Jay's cock was nearly as purple as the lights, and bobbing up high
enough to tap Jay on the stomach every few seconds.  It was producing
enough pre-come, Bob was surprised Jay hadn't shorted out the lights.
 As Bob leaned down--and Jay inhaled--he saw the problem.  To keep
everything wrapped, until Bob got home, Jay had taken the end of each
strand and tucked in the last light under the last loop.  Then he'd
pulled it just that little bit tight, to secure it.

Everywhere else, it'd been the work of a moment to untangle Jay.  But
this strand Bob had left until last.  And this strand was tied around
*much* more sensitive skin.  And *this* strand had either gotten
pulled harder, or had been tighter to begin with.

No wonder Jay was near tears.

Bob lay down, his head on Jay's right knee, and began to gently tug,
gently pull, Jay's moans escalating above him.  Every millimeter of
skin revealed, made free of purple lights, Bob kissed, licked, sucked
upon, while Jay near-convulsed over him.  Finally, the lights were
unspiraled, unspooled, and Bob licked Jay's cock from base to tip,
just once, one broad, wet lick.  And Jay came, crying his name,
thrusting forward, begging Bob to swallow, wishing he would.

And Bob did.  Held Jay afterwards, one hand cupping his cock, only
half-softened, the other wrapped around his hips, holding him close. 
For a few sweet, uncounted moments, Jay was silent, and Bob just
breathed in the lack of words.

"Um," Jay finally said.

**Yes, beloved?** Bob thought, feeling giddy, and not a little surreal
about the evening so far.

"C'n we...um...c'n you take me to bed now?  I really want..."

Bob looked at him, rising, picking him up and pulling him close.

"Oh, fuck," Jay whispered.

"What?"

"I just...fuck, dude.  Din't expect you to do that."

**What?** Bob thought.  **Pick you up?  Hold you close?  Love you so
desperately my heart is full to bursting?  What?**

But as usual, Jay didn't answer, and Bob sighed, hiding another smile.
 He walked to his bedroom door, turning the knob with one mostly free
hand, swinging it open while Jay looked on in confusion.  Maybe he
should go back and get that strand of purple lights again.  After, of
course, he got Jay settled for the long winter's night.  After all,
wouldn't do to have the Freakiest Stoner wander through the living
room when Santa was there...

**I mean, you never know,** Bob thought, and pushed the door to his
room shut with a toe-tip.


END
**************
Kelandris the Mad
flannel bunnies, they'll gnaw on ya