Title: Twitch
Author: Kelandris the Mad
Fandom: View Askewniverse, general
Pairing: Jay/Silent Bob (angsty bitchy piece)
Rating: I'd say R for language, and at least R if not higher
for sexual situations. And ooh, the bite of Bob jealousy,
haven't felt that in a while. Gee, I hope Jay gets out of this
all right.
Status: posted 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.
Email address for feedback:
Kelandris
Series/Sequel: This should be a stand-alone, but you know how I
get...
Disclaimers: I forget all the usual babble I put in here. I
grovel at Kevin Smith's feet to feel flattered by this, not
litigious. (Not a bad position, must be said, though his wife
would probably beat me soundly for letting the idea cross the
forebrain.)
Notes: Oddly enough, wrote this in response to the Shirtless Jay
pic and the two-hour rant call I got while writing two other
articles. Two hours of jealous ranting puts me in the mood to
go pound on things. I had Bob do that instead.
Summary: See Jay and Bob. See Jay and Bob go to a club.
See Jay meet a girl. See hijinks ensue.
"Twitch"
by Kelandris the Mad
Smoke drifted in lazy spirals over chromed struts, over rotator
supports, over exposed wiring and matte-painted pipes. Bob
inhaled deeply on the cigarette in his mouth, looking up,
catching his reflection in crazy-tilted mirrors. One of them
accurately reflects the dance floor where he saw Jay dancing
with his latest acquisition, a short stacked redhead who bounced
in an eye-popping fashion. Some mental defective had painted
leopard spots and leaping stick figures on the wall behind the
main dance floor. Silver spray-paint, no less. Bob grimaced.
No style.
Still, he got to stand here against the back wall and watch Jay
dance just by looking up. Fewer finer sights than watching his
boy move, hair swinging out behind him like the robe on a
dervish. Bump and grind and now those hips were going, jerking
forward, jerking back...He made the mistake of looking at Jay's
face and had to inhale sharply. The look of pure unadulterated
lust filling his eyes, his smile hit him like a mescaline hammer,
making his heart stutter to a halt in his chest. He took several
shallow, shuddering breaths, ground out the cigarette, and moved
to the bar. Amazing. He was still shaking.
**Fuckers with long hair,** he thought wryly, then
corrected himself.
**No, just Jay. Only Jay.**
I got a boyfriend
He's a bad boy
He is my favorite
He is my joy
By the time he got there, Jay had noticed him and was moving to
intercept. He drew close to Bob, shaking his head and screwing
his face up, looking between the man in the trench and the girl
in the tank top.
**Here it comes.** He wasn't disappointed.
"What, ya tubby bitch, thirsty for more already? Goddamn alky,
I fuckin' swear...Good thing we're done for the night, you'd'a
smoked up all the profits!!"
Bob raised an eyebrow, completely confused, and Jay ran a finger
up his arm, smiling shyly. It removed any sting from the words
and left him shuddering again. Then he looked at the girl,
standing there, twitching in time with the music. Or maybe in
time with Jay, who was twitching on his own internal metronome.
Hip jut, head waggle, hand jive, shoulders arching in a way that
would send him to the hospital for a week, and now the feet
wiggling and tapping. Just watching him was making Bob nervous,
and he quickly turned, ordering another couple of beers. Then
he looked at the girl again, gesturing with a thumb towards the
bottles under halflight.
I got a boyfriend
Danger Boy!
He's got a girlfriend
She is my toy!
She just stared at him, big eyes blinking. Bob felt slightly
irritated and tried to force it down. Always picked these
absolute brainless cases, nothing going for them but youth and
beauty, and he could never figure that out. He'd stayed up
nights wondering at it, worrying at it, and he almost had the
answer, but never completely. Jay wasn't stupid, not by a long
shot. Five years of dealing, and the only arrests he had were
for assault, not drugs. And he liked Bob, hell, more
than liked Bob...Another warm flush thrilled through him and he
covered it with a quick sip of beer, passing two other cold
bottles to Jay and the girl. She actually squealed and
simpered when he handed her the beer, and something of the
shock he felt must have shown on his face. Jay started to
scowl and Bob started lining up his defenses, then sighed,
realizing they'd have to leave the bar in order to have this
discussion, because the music was vibrating them into jelly.
Sometimes he'll twitch for no reason
It's just a twitch and it's part of his style
He tells me I'm his one and only
I'm the only one making him smile
One more beer, he thought, watching Jay go into the routine.
Quick trip to the back room for Jay and the Bimbo of the Week,
one more cigarette for Bob the Bouncer. He tapped it out now,
then held the beer and the cig in one hand, the flame in the
other, watching them walk off out of the corner of his eye.
Why was he upset? Not like they'd declared anything, right.
Fuck, Jay wouldn't let him declare anything, wouldn't even let
him speak half the time.
His eyes glazed over as he remembered how Jay usually shut
him up, and he was licking his lips before he realized it.
He shook his head, looking around. Cig, on fire, check.
Bottle, half empty, check. Smokes, cash, lighter, roll of
change, check. Okay, back to the wall.
Sometimes he'll twitch for no reason
It's just a twitch and it's part of his style
When he's feeling sad and lonely
I'm the only one driving him wild
And then the trip home, yeah, he'd forgotten that. During
which Jay will probably jive around the bus, swing from the
handholds, make several rude comments, and get them threatened
with eviction at least three times. He didn't realize he was
angrily tapping his foot as he watched the door to the
`employees only' section swing shut behind Jay and the Bimbo's
pert round ass.
And all for what? All for fucking what?
**Go home, smoke a bowl, have some more brew, get the boy
relaxed enough to pry that veneer of I-hate-the-fucking-world
off for a while, and then kiss that pretty mouth, lick that
pretty neck, and some quick bump and grind before we're both
off to bed. And do it all over again tomorrow. And always
remember, it's not love, it's not even fucking sex,
because he's not fucking gay, is he? Not like he doesn't
throw that in my face enough fuckin' times...**
Bob sighed, closing his eyes. He could imagine all too well what
was going on in the coatroom or the employee lounge or wherever
the fuck they were, and he didn't like it. He didn't like it.
And what was it, exactly, made him put up with the little shit
in the first place? A flash of Jay wrapped in a towel seared
across his brain, long blond hair dripping over those lightly
muscled shoulders, nearly hairless chest glistening, pale
planes and angles making his mouth water.
he really likes me
he likes my mom
he buys me ice cream
he likes my song
he has a nice car
I buy his gas
but in the back seat
he moves his ass!
**Fuck. Fuck this!** Setting the bottle carefully
against the wall, he took off, trench flowing behind him like a
banner of war.
And Jay was there, suddenly, no girl, no scene, just there. Bob
looked around, wondering if he'd suddenly started to hallucinate.
Jay shrugged, mouth twitching.
"Dude, like she means more to me than you do. She can grab
anyone in this shithole and get her ass screwed to the
wall."
Silent Bob for once had nothing to work with. Even his thoughts
had dried up. His entire brain had vapor-locked. But his eyes
flicked around, and saw the side door, guarded by a sleepier
bouncer than the slab of beef at the front. He steered them
towards it, nodding noncommittally to the man on the stool, and
thrust Jay through.
It was a back alley. It was good enough. He watched as Jay
staggered a bit, then turned back towards Bob, looking pissed.
Bob waited until his brain unfroze.
**Okay. Good. Let's do this.**
"What the fuck?" he said softly, just an edge of steel under the
silk.
"What the--are you completely stoned? I saw how you were lookin'
at me! Fuck, I figured you wanted to go home, you know, get
some?"
"Get some?" Part of him was scrambling frantically away from
the dangerous shine of rage in his voice. Jay didn't seem to
care, stepping forward and shaking his head from side to side,
cracking his neck with a loud popping sound.
"Yeah, you know, we could go home and play some. Beats dancin'
in some dive when it's not with--"
Jay's eyes cut to the side, suddenly absorbed in the brickwork,
and that was all that kept Bob from tightening the fist he'd
started, knocking Jay to the ground. He played the end of that
sentance over and over in his head. Yeah. Okay. Maybe they
had something here.
Sometimes he'll twitch for no reason
It's just a twitch and it's part of his style
He tells me I'm his one and only
I'm the only one making him smile
Suddenly he strode forward, grabbing Jay and pulling him close,
so close that he could feel Jay tremble in his arms, feel the
heat of him radiating over his chest, his legs. Oh, yeah.
This was good.
Bob shook him, lightly but firmly, watching Jay's eyes widen.
"Is this all it is? Play?"
Jay's lips were trembling, but he snarled out the words anyway.
"What the fuck else would it be, Lunchbox? Like I got some
serious fucking thing for you, fuckin' fag in a trenchcoat--"
Bob shook him again.
"No," he said firmly. "Is. This. All. It. Is. To. You?"
He punctuated each word with a little shake.
"Fuckin' lay off me, man, I'll pop you, I swear to Christ!"
Bob nodded, accepting the risk. Then he kissed Jay. It wasn't
their usual casual graze, as if they both had something better
to do and just happened to have their lips in the same area at
the same time. It wasn't the heated press of fevered flesh
that Bob engaged in, when he couldn't keep his mouth off Jay's
skin. This was a kiss. This was deep. This was true.
And as Bob slid his tongue into Jay's opening mouth, he felt
Jay shudder all over, pressing against him, and moaning.
Moaning? Oh, fuck yeah. This could go places.
I'm the only one driving him wild
I'm the only one driving him wild
I'm the only one--
Suddenly the girl from the club burst through the back alley,
looking pouty, all her former heat subsumed by childish pique.
Her voice was a grating whine when it did emerge, and both men
reared back, eyes wide.
"Jaa-yay," she whined, "you went away, and I thought we were
gonna, and you said, and what the fuck are you doing out here?"
Bob stepped forward, head lowering, when Jay put a hand on his
arm and slowly shook his head.
**Figures. We finally get somewhere down this road and now
the car's fuckin' stalled again. All the fucking time...**
But Jay surprised him. He walked out from behind Bob, shaking his
head.
"Sorry, chica. Goin' home with my boy, here. Don't think I
have the energy to fuck him into a coma and you, babe. Go find
some other streetmeat to play with."
"Wha-aat?" she screeched, and stamped her foot, fist clenched.
Jay only laughed, watching Bob, who inhaled so slowly it was almost
a battle move in itself. Then he tapped out a cigarette, lighting
it, taking a long, slow puff before looking at her. He gestured to
her with his chin. Gestured to the back door with the cigarette.
"Get the fuck in there," he growled, and she yelped, running for the
door.
My boyfriend's back and you're gonna be in trouble...
"Motherfuck, now that's what I like ta see, you defendin' my
ass! Fuck, that might just get you an extra, somethin', I don't
know..."
He trailed off, and then looked up, throwing an arm around the larger man.
"Y'wanna go home and see how many porn tapes we can get through?
Afore you beg me to stop, I mean?"
Jay was looking unbearably cocky but for once, Bob didn't care. Happily,
he nodded, handing the cig to Jay, and lighting another. They made their
way arm in arm out of the alley. Yeah. That was the good stuff. But he
had the feeling Jay was in for a terrible surprise about Bob's endurance
levels...
END
(song is Bif Naked's "Twitch" from I Bificus)
****************
Kelandris the Mad
entangled in the snare drum
