Title: Why?
Author: Kelandris the Mad
Fandom: View Askewniverse, Clerks/Mallrats era
Pairing: Jay/Silent Bob
Rating: Songfic.
Status: New
Archive: Drop me a note and it's yours. And on that note...
Feedback: kel@crazysheep.net
Series/Sequels: Should be a one-shot
Disclaimers: All parts of my fannish being are enriched by the 
presence of Kevin Smith, Jason Mewes, Jason Lee, Ben Affleck, and all 
the merry characters at View Askew Productions (including their 
current master, Miramax,) save for that pesky financial part of my 
being, which receives no compensation whatsoever for these tawdry 
little tales.
Notes: I thought I'd take a traditional (well, as far towards 
tradition as the Meat Puppets ever got) breakup song and see what 
happened if I twisted it. Thus we create the anti-breakup song, or 
the perfect little venue for a little Jay ansgt.
Summary: Jay beats himself up for loving Bob.
Warnings: 

"Why?"
by Kelandris

*Why must I move so slow
In my heart I can't let it go
And dreams fall into my eyes
In the night I have no disguise*

"Uhh..."

The blond on the bed gasped air through clenched teeth, spreading his 
shaking legs farther apart. The sounds in the room made him dizzy, 
and he raised a hand to stroke the dark cap of shoulder-length hair 
on the head of his lover. His lover, he thought, and that hand began 
to tremble. He snatched it back, breathing hard.

His lover raised his head, looking at him with dark, possessive, 
impassioned eyes. He was also breathing hard, his chest rising and 
falling like a bellows. His mouth was wet, and the blond carefully 
flinched away from why, and with what.

But his mouth had other ideas.

"Fuck, Bob," he whispered. "Fuck, fuck, don't stop, please don't 
stop..."

He was appalled. What the hell was wrong with him? Why was he 
encouraging this? He closed his eyes, wishing it away, wishing Bob 
away, wishing his clothes back on and the beers undrunk and the idea 
that had lodged in his head these past few nights unlodged. Then Bob 
leaned down, whispering his name, kissing the trail of hair down his 
belly.

"Jay... Jay, so sweet, so good, Jay..."

Feeling Bob's breath, warm and moist on his skin, sent muscle spasms 
through all his limbs. His head swam for a moment, and he bit his 
bottom lip. Fuck, he wanted this. He wanted Bob.

Then he shook his head, looking down at the moving cap of dark hair. 
Why the hell did he want--

And Bob swallowed him again, sucking him in from the head to the 
balls and all in between. He arched off the bed, his hair trailing 
over the pillows like strands of yellow silk, and moaned low in his 
throat. And Bob, Bob just kept swallowing, the muscles of his throat 
like satin on such sensitive skin, and God, God, why? Why this, why 
now, why? *Why?*

*Why does it seem to go
Fall apart in lies
Seems we will never know
Always asking why*

Bob's tongue, that agile terrorist, wrapped around the head of his 
cock, and he groaned, feeling trembling through his limbs again. 
Gods, he was close. He was so close. He was close to blowing a load 
in his best friend's mouth, and fuck, not even on the streets did 
this shit happen, so why the hell now? Why the hell Bob? What was 
it about that tubby motherfucker that made him want this?

Jay stared at the ceiling, counting up inefficiencies against the 
constant sucking pressure of Bob's mouth. He was short, for one. 
Several inches shorter than him. And he was fat, Jay thought, 
looking down at the broad pale expanse of back. And he had eyelashes 
like a girl, soft and feathery and long, nearly darker than his 
eyes. He'd watched Bob blink several times, watching those eyelashes 
curl and flutter and move. Entranced by the motion, entranced in 
watching the curve of his cheek, the ruffle of hair over his 
shoulders, the curl of his lashes.

Shit,

Okay, and he never fuckin' spoke, and he always wore the same few 
outfits, and he had big flat feet... and... and...

Bob withdrew and Jay whimpered, watching as Bob moved up Jay's body, 
kissing as he went, until their legs tangled together and their cocks 
met, jumping against each other in happy vibration. Jay stopped 
breathing when one of Bob's huge hands fisted around both cocks, 
stroking them against each other, against the flesh of his palm.

"Holy fuck..." he breathed.

*Please let us stop this now
No it don't matter anyhow
This heart's trivialities
Are the world's sole realities*

"Ungh, ungh, God..." Jay panted, twitching in Bob's grasp. "Gotta, 
gotta, gonna... gonna..."

Bob leaned down, licking his ear, nibbling on the lobe.

"Next time, I want to come inside you," he breathed, and Jay cried 
out, coming in that instant from the mental picture his brain had 
flashed him--Bob, face flushed from exertion, hands grasping each of 
Jay's ankles and holding them high; Jay himself holding his ass 
cheeks open and begging, begging Bob to fuck him harder, fuck him 
faster, while Bob pounded inside him, opening him up, opening him 
wide...

Oh, God. He wanted Bob to fuck him. He wanted Bob to fuck him 
*hard*, hard and fast and brutal, stamp his claim like a seal on his 
flesh, like a brand with Bob's initials. What *was* this? He 
whimpered, twitching again, as Bob pulled away from him. And he 
watched as Bob walked from the bedroom to the bathroom, coming back 
with a towel dipped in warm water, and slowly, carefully, cleaned 
both Jay and himself. The care he took, the love he knew he felt in 
those large hands, brought him to half-hardness again, and Bob just 
smiled.

"Later, love," he said softly, folding Jay into his arms. Jay nearly 
protested, then realized how warm Bob was, and how cold he'd gotten 
from lying in the open air nude. He relaxed into Bob's embrace, 
listening to the sounds of his breathing in the still air, and then 
froze.

He'd said... love. He'd said *love*. Bob fucking *loved* him? Oh, 
that was *so* beyond fucked up...

*I know that it's over now
But I still want it anyhow
This heart's sole realities
Are the world's trivialities*

...because Jay knew, lying in the circle of Bob's arms, that he loved 
him too. Shit, he loved Silent Bob. That motherfucker. How the 
hell had he accomplished that?

They were gonna have to have a *talk* tomorrow, that was all there 
was to it. His overactive brain flashed him a pic of Jay on his 
knees, sucking Bob in, sucking all of Bob, and loving every single 
long, thick inch of him, and he shivered. Bob murmured something 
sleepily and pulled the covers up.

Shit. All this and nice too. It would be so much easier if he was 
just another asshole. He shivered again, and fell asleep to the 
image of Bob bending him over a bar, watching Bob behind him in the 
barback mirror, as Bob thrust in and out and in and out, fast as he 
could take it... Crying, screaming Bob's name, begging for more, raising 
his ass high in the air, whimpering for Bob to pound him, and right 
before he would have come again, spraying the sheets they were 
wrapped in... Jay fell asleep.

END
(Song is Meat Puppets' "Why?")
*****
Kelandris the Mad
I'll be crawling through the sand for at least a couple days