Title: Never Everything
Author: Kelandris the Mad
Fandom: View Askewniverse, post-Mallrats
Pairing: Jay/Silent Bob
Rating: NC-17 for masturbation, extreme language
Status: New
Archive: You must send an email to me and let me know where you intend to archive. Private archiving allowed as long as you don't intend to publish. Behave.
Email address for feedback: Kelandris
Series/Sequel: Part II of a, yes, trilogy!! Sequels "Everything is Never Enough".
Disclaimers: All characters belong to Kevin Smith and the View Askewniverse. If I really get into this, I probably will too. Or at least go into hock when I walk into a video store, go into rut, and buy all the DVDs at once.
Notes: Woke up with the first story in my head this morning and wrote this one and the last one straight through. Kind of cool. (Microsoft is very weird, btw--in spellchecking the above passage, Word suggested 'heads' was more appropriate than 'head'. Now I'm a mutant??)
Outline: Jay wakes up with the typical problem--AGAIN.


"Never Everything"
by Kelandris the Mad


Jay shook his head, shaking his blond hair out of his eyes, and turned to look at the clock by the bed. One pm. Shit, late even for him. Well, yesterday had been a weird, long day. They'd gone to the mall again, and hung out near the pet store. Jay was trying to talk Bob into getting a cat, and for once Bob would not be moved. No amount of cuteness, wheedling or insults would get him the kitty he wanted.

Groaning, he kicked free of the blankets and walked over to the closet, opening the door slowly. And here we are again, kiddies, he thought bleakly. Staring into the mirror once more, wondering what we fucking lack.

Twenty-two-year-old young man, a bit more definition of muscle and bone, slightly less pale. Two eyebrow rings through the edge of his right eyebrow. Some slut he'd dated briefly talked him into them. Said they made him look cute. Cute, hell, like he needed to look cute. Who the fuck did he have to impress?

Besides, it was bullshit. Silent Bob hadn't even fucking noticed. And what had he been thinking, anyway, that he'd come home and Bob would've looked up, thrown the book aside, said, "Oh, you're so fucking hot" and come over and kissed him until he couldn't breathe?

Well, Jay amended, like the silent fuck would ever say anything he didn't have to. And he never would have thrown a book. Bob treated books like most fucks treated kids. Strike that, Jay thought sourly. Like most *good* parents treated kids they loved.

Like Bob, who actually had a family that seemed to care. Jay had been dragged along to a couple of family get-togethers, and he'd kept searching for the dark secrets that had to be there. Bob's mom was divorced, but that seemed to be the extent of it. They had family in Russia; he'd even met Bob's cousin once, a few years back. Shit was back in Russia now, of course. And Bob had two older sisters here, living in Highlands. And though Jay seemed to puzzle everybody, they'd accepted him without question. And wasn't that fucking weird? His brain had no place for familial love.

And the *really* weird thing was, Silent Bob seemed to understand this instinctively, and stopped taking him. Like he was in tune with what Jay was feeling. Which was complete shit, because if that were fucking true, he'd have known what those perfect lips felt like wrapped around his cock by now.

Christ...He looked down, shaking his head. Think of Bob and up you come, like I don't have enough fucking problems.

His hand worked under the waistband of his shorts, long fingers wrapping around himself, falling into that rhythm he loved best. Pump-release, pump-release, stroke. He remembered a shattering moment from yesterday's mayhem, when that scary fuck LaFours was chasing them again, horde of yapping mallcops behind him, and he knew, he just knew that was it, they were going down. And Bob had grabbed him, pointed something black at a roof strut, and wrapped his arms around Jay. A puff of escaping air was all he heard before the coiled cable within shot out, the grappling hook at its tip unfolding and reaching for the sky. And, just as it seemed LaFours would catch them after all, Bob had pressed a button and they'd risen into the air, both of them dangling from the cable.

Jay had never been so scared in his life, both of falling and of being caught. He got caught now for anything and it wouldn't be juvie anymore. Not that juvie was good--Jesus, that one time he'd gone in had nearly killed him. Never be a cute boy with long hair in juvie, man.

Pump-release, pump-release, stroke, stroke. Nice, long, even strokes, thinking of Bob. Thinking of yesterday. Fuck, yeah, he remembered. How terrified he'd been, and how he'd wrapped himself around Bob, for the first time feeling Bob pressed against his body, and didn't care if Bob felt how hard he was at the thought. Bob saving his ass...*literally*...He'd huddled close, holding Bob, wondering how the hell they were gonna get down.

"Where do you get such wonderful toys?" he'd asked, knowing Bob would catch the reference. And, greatly daring, he'd leaned forward and kissed him on the cheek. Bob barely smiled at that, looking down, and when everyone had left the square of asphalt beneath them, he'd hit another button which lowered them slowly to the ground. And with a shake of the cylinder, the hook had released, and everything wheeled back into the little black pipe.

Dimly Jay heard ringing, caught up in the image of Bob walking away, trench fluttering like a superhero's cape. He'd turned, stared at Jay with those soulful eyes, shaking his head towards the side entrance. You coming? the look said.

Two precise knocks, clear and distinct.

"Phone" said Bob.

"Ahh!" cried Jay, and bucked against his hand, then rolled his eyes at the ceiling. Every fucking time, he thought. *Fuck* this.

"Yeah, I'm coming," he called, and shook his head, reaching for another tee to wipe himself clean.

I gotta tell him. I gotta make him understand, Jay thought. Or I gotta fucking move.


END
****************
Kelandris the Mad
there's at least one more


If you wanna go back, go back. If you wanna read the next one, read the next one. If you wanna go somewhere else...hey, I ain't stoppin' you.

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