Title: Falling in Love
Author: Kelandris the Mad
Fandom: View Askewniverse, general (let's peg it as Mallrats)
Pairing: Jay/Silent Bob, Jay/some unnamed chippie
Rating: Sex, pain, and angst, the big three.
Status: posted in 2002
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.
E-mail address for feedback: Kelandris
Series/Sequel: Possibly, if Jay doesn't get OUT OF MY HEAD!!!
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: Another song-fic. Gee, this could become a habit.
Summary: Jay's past catches up with him, in a really scary way.
Warnings: Language, some sex, some graphic descriptions (of several types).


"Falling in Love"
by Kelandris the Mad


*You think you're in love like it's a real sure thing
but every time you fall, you get your ass in a sling
You used to be strong, but now it's ooh baby please
*'cause falling in love is so hard on the knees*

"Hey, Trina-licious! Baby, come here and gimme some!"

The redhead tossed her head, sneering at the blond boy in the black cap.

"Jay, don't you have an elsewhere to be?"

"Ooh, a Buffy fan, I can get into that action...Want me to make with the fangs and be your Angel?" He was grinning so hard, he thought his face would break. **Come on, just a little closer, bring those tits over here...** "I can be snarly, baby, I can be whatever you want."

Fuck, not the first time he'd said that, he thought darkly. 'Course, usually that was to some back-alley troll, someone who'd give him just enough money so he could taste the rim of the gutter, never enough to leave. He'd gotten so fucking tired of giving blowjobs by the time he was fourteen, looking for any friggin' way out...and then he found a good source for weed. Of course, then he started horning in on turf wars...but it was easier being beaten than being face-fucked. Ain't it the truth.

"And where's your other half?" Trina asked waspishly. Coquette was not her strong suit, and he shook his head. **Lack of action, man, I see this brainfuck comin' a mile away.**

"What, Silent Bob? Ah, the pussy stayed home today. Some head cold or some shit, I don't know."

Actually, he knew exactly. Three days into this major fit of depression, no fucking idea *why*, mind you, fat bitch wouldn't talk to him, and he gnawed at the why of it. Girl on the side? Someone he didn't wanna talk about, that was for fucking sure... And usually that meant a fucking girl. **Or, pardon me, a girl he's *fucking*,** he thought bitterly.

*We was making love when you told me that you loved me
I thought ol' Cupid, he was takin' aim
I was believer when you told me that you loved me
and then you called me someone else's name, yeah*

Her friend, though, she was giggling in all the right places. She was short, and fluffily blonde, and completely beyond stacked, just like Trina. He thought he saw roots, though, and wondered if her little love-patch would match other places...Only one way to find out.

**Ramp up the charm, Jay-o, full steam a-fucking-head!**

"*Baby*, where you been all my life?" he asked, sidling up to her. "You got a name, cuteness, or you too young to have one yet?"

She giggled. Ooh, severe lack of brain, too. Pretty and dim, the perfect combination. He turned back to Trina.

"Changed my mind, ice-n-fire--leave your friend behind, we gonna get intimate." He ran a finger down her bare arm, liking the way she shivered, and stared down at her as if he'd already had her and tossed her aside for something better. At one time, that was Trina, but she obviously had Developed Attitude since then. So fuck her. **And fuck her little friend instead.**

"Yeah, well, that's just *fine*, Jay, fuck you!" Trina stormed off, obviously in huff mode, but hey, she didn't feel like putting out, wasn't his fucking problem. Now he, he felt like boning something pretty, and that was this thing here.

*There ain't gonna be no more beggin' you, please
You know what I want and it ain't one of these
You're bad to the bone and your girlfriend agrees
that falling in love is so hard on the knees*

Her eyes were a rich honey-brown, made him feel all safe and warm for some reason. Her mouth was just begging to be kissed, all big and pouty, just the kind he loved sucking on his knob. And Lord, but the tits on the wench! They pushed out of her low-cut top, and he could tell that she wasn't wearing a bra.

He looked around, gauging the crowd at the mall. No biggie. He sidled closer, reaching out and tweaking a nipple, just to see her reaction. Ooh, killer. Fuck, yeah--giggle and shocked look combined, but not before she'd flushed a little. **Yeah, bitch, bet you're already wet for me. Want me to check?**

"You ain't answered my question yet, baby-girl," he said, leaning in and breathing into her perfect pink shell ear. He kissed it for good measure, tonguing the lobe fast, make her wonder what else his tongue could do. **You would be surprised, chicklet, I swear it to you.**

Another giggle, breathy this time.

"What question?"

"What's your name?" Shit, he had to repeat that one? Okay, strike dim. Move it down to brick-stupid. Still, brick-stupid with tits like that should never be thrown away. Who knows when someone else with huge pillows like that is gonna walk on by? 'Specially not for free.

*Chip off the old block, man, you're so much like your sister
My fantasize it must be out of luck
My old libido has been blowing a transistor
I feel like I have been hit by a fuck, yeah*

They ended up in a little cul-de-sac, formerly a thriving mini-court selling hot dogs and pretzels on one side, and portraits on the other. All three businesses had died, and no one'd moved in to take the spaces. The mall had left the benches here, though, and boarded the rest up, and now he sat her down on one of them.

Smiling broadly, he took her hands, kissing each one in turn, then placed them on his hips. Obligingly--**bitch takes a hint well, aw, yeah!**--she unzipped his jeans and slid them halfway down his hips. Pulling down his shorts, she smiled when she saw his half-hard cock.

**And this is just from thinkin' about your shoes, bitch...Get it on, get it up, baby!**

Before he even finished the thought, she was swallowing him whole, making cute little squirrel noises as she sucked him down. Not much for technique, 0 out of 10 points for style, but 10 out of 10 for speed, fuck! He moved in rhythm to her noises, finally just abandoning all shreds of dignity and buffeting her face.

"Fuck yeah," he moaned, "yeah, suck it, baby, suck it...Suck it, Bob..."

She pulled her mouth off his dick.

*I'm jonesin' on love, yeah, I got the DTs
You say that we will, but there's no guarantees
I'm major in love, but in all minor keys
*'cause falling in love is so hard on the knees*

"Bitch, what you stoppin' for?" he shrieked. Fuck, he'd been so close and now this idiot decides to check her brain at the door! What the hell?

"You called me Bob," she said, her eyes and tone accusing as hell.

"What?" he asked, blinking. His brain seized completely. He could nearly smell the smoke from the melting gears. **Fuck, man, think fast, you're losing her, you're losing her!**

"Who's Bob, then?" she asked.

He shrugged, stepping back.

"Hey, babe, I fuck a lotta chicks, sometimes shit slips out, okay? It don't mean no thing. Now, let's get back to some serious boning, what say? You and me and some strawberry jam--"

She rose, brushing her knees and skirt angrily. "Fuck you, you bastard! I should have listened to Trina! She says you're fixated on that--"

He stopped her, gripped her shoulders tight and brought her in close. "You callin' me a fag?" he asked. "Is that what you sayin'?"

She tried to jerk away but he held her too tight. "You're hurting me," she whimpered.

Burned by that statement, he released her. Too fucking close to some real-life unexpurgated badness, fuck...Twitching, he jerked his pants up, fastening them with some little difficulty. He gestured with a wildly waving hand.
"So go, bitch, ain't nothin' holdin' you here but time."

She stalked off, and even in anger, he could enjoy that pert little ass switch away.

**Fuck, that pert little ass I ain't never gonna taste,** he sighed. What the fuck was Trina-licious spreading about him? He had to find her, now, slap some sense into her one way or another, fuckin' bitch tellin' people I'm...

Then the penny dropped.

*You called me Bob,* she'd said. *She says you're fixated on that...*

Warm brown eyes. Warm honey-brown. Like...

Bob's.

Frustrated, he howled, not caring who heard, kicking over anything he found on the way out that was light enough to be kicked or thrown aside. He made his way to the nearest exit and the bus stop for home.

*What are you looking for? It's got to be hard core
Must be some kind of nouveau riche
Is this your only chance, or some hypnotic trance?
Let's get you on a tighter leash*

By the time he got home, he was in the world's-champion-level of piss-poor moods. He hadn't been able to get what she said out of his mind. It rang, over and over, driving him nuts. He was so ready to break something, or someone, just to hear the sound of shattering and get her voice the hell out of his head.

He stalked into the house, seeing Bob on the couch.

"Yeah, of course you're gonna be right there, where the fuck else would you be?"he snarled, and Bob put down the book, raising his eyebrows.

**Again with the eyebrows, like I'm supposed to know what the fuck that means!**

He stepped up the the couch, swaggering a little. Planted his feet right in front of where Bob sat, and threw his hat on the floor.

"You think I'm a fag?" he asked Bob angrily.

"What?"

**Amazing. Bitch actually sounds surprised. Wonder why?** Moving on overdrive, Jay unzipped his jeans, shucked them and his shorts down to his knees in one motion, and let his erection, now coming up to full mast, dangle in Bob's shocked face.

"Wanna prove it?"

"*What?*" Bob said again, and there were traces of panic in his usually calm voice.

**Shook you up *good*, Silent Boy. Now let's see how far you go.**

"Jay, I don't--" he started, and Jay didn't let him finish.

"Bitch, you ain't gettin' another chance, better take it now," he said. And waited. The shakes from the adrenalin were starting to kick in, and he stiffened his muscles to compensate. He'd been here before more times than he could count, it didn't matter who it was now. It always came down to this.

And there it was, like he expected. Bitch shot forward, angling to get some of Jay's meat, and Jay let him, sneering. Then the unexpected happened. It wasn't going to be another suck and swallow, he knew that instantly. Bob's hands wrapping around his ass, for one, bringing him closer. And the way he was curling his tongue around the head, like he fucking cared or something. Then Bob pulled back, running little kisses along the shaft, making the sensitive skin there spark with electricity.

"Oh, God," he moaned, closing his eyes.

"Mmm," said Bob. He swallowed him again, bringing his hands around to splay over Jay's abdomen. Jay looked down, seeing Bob's dark, dark hair, where he suddenly realized he'd wanted him all along. Tears began to fall down his face, and he was making these awful sounds, and this was not what he wanted, not what he wanted at all...And Bob looked up. And stopped, proving finally he wasn't anything like the others, because he instantly pulled him down into an embrace, holding him close, stroking his hair, and telling him it was going to be all right, everything was going to be all right.

And for once in his sorry excuse for a life, he actually believed what he heard.

And when he looked up, he was smiling through the tears.

"Bob?"

Bob smiled down at him, the gentlest, most heartbreaking smile he'd ever seen on the big man's face.

"You wanna try that again...for real?"

Bob's eyebrows quirked, and suddenly Jay heard it, clear as a fucking bell: **You want me to? It's okay if you want to say no. You can say no.**

"No, man, I want to. C'mon," he said, and pulled Bob into the bedroom.

*You ain't that good; is that what you said down to the letter?
But you like the way I hold the microphone
Sometimes I'm good, but when I'm bad, I'm even better
Don't give me no lip, I've got enough of my own.*


END
*****************
Kelandris the Mad
running for cover before the sunrise


If you wanna go back, go back. If you wanna read the very first one, go on, then. If you wanna go somewhere else...hey, I ain't stoppin' you.

Or if you want, write me.