Hopeless And Devoted

BY : flameboi
Category: G through L > Jay and Silent Bob / Clerks
Dragon prints: 5006
Disclaimer: I do not own Clerks, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Title: Hopeless And Devoted
Author: Flameboi
Archived: You want it? Go for it.
Rating: NC-17
Pairings: M/M - Jay x Bob
Feedback: Reviews always wanted
Disclaimer: I do not own these characters and am making no money off this fic, so, don't sue my ass.

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Part 1

When your career, whatever euphemism you prefer, is dealing drugs, risks are part of the package, just as vacation days and a dental plan is not; before that day, Jay had just been very lucky. Still, if asked what problems Jay could foresee possibly coming up, even in his most pessimistic moments, 'being blown away outside the QuickStop by a pissed off Pinky Delvechio' never would even have made the list, mainly because the little dork was the biggest wuss in Leonardo.

Obviously, though, Pinky was feeling braver today, or else his specialness, in the short bus sense of the term, had finally caught up with him, because he was squinting from behind his horn rims down the barrel of a chrome .45 aimed dead on at Jay. Even as the blonde opened his mouth to try to talk himself out of this one, one look at Pinky's crazily determined expression told him that it was hopeless, besides which, he couldn't draw a breath, let alone speak. A moment of real life slo-mo careened through Jay's terrified brain, wondering if Bob would be all right without him, and then Jay's viscera went black as the world exploded.

A desperately panicked shout of "NO!" beside Jay, drowned out by the thunder of the shot, and then the impact, slamming Jay to the ground so hard that he blacked out for a moment. Dizzy, blinking open his eyes, the clatter of Pinky's .45 falling to the ground from nerveless fingers, a groan- Jay's first thought was that being shot didn't hurt near as bad as he'd thought it would, and then, he saw. The crumpled figure in the trenchcoat laying limp on the pavement- Bob; Jay saw the blood, and knew what had happened, knew that his constant companion had saved him by diving in, by shoving him out of the way: Lunchbox had saved him by taking the bullet himself.

Jay stumbled to Bob's side, kneeling, rolling him over, his hands sliding through blood both slick and sticky, and Jay screamed an hysterical demand for someone to call 9-1-1; fortunately, inside the minimart, Dante had been on the phone doing just that, since about a second after Pinky pulled out the pistol. Bob groaned, and his eyes fluttered, and Jay had never been so relieved in his life- later he would realize he'd begun sobbing as he tried to reassure Bob in a babble of words, that it'd be okay.

In the second stupidest act of his life, Pinky chose at that moment to wander near, as if in disbelief of what he'd done and needing close up visual confirmation; Jay lost it, literally seeing through a blurry haze of red, leaping up and charging and tackling the asshole who'd shot Bob. Jay had gotten into plenty of fights in his life, and, thanks mostly to Silent Bob helping out when he got in over his head, hadn't lost too many, but this wasn't a fight from the moment he tackled Pinky, just a beating, Jay's fists flying while he screamed incoherently, crouched on the huddling Pinky, hitting him over and over and over. It was Randall who hauled him off, finally, when Pinky was bloodily unconscious, and Jay was trembling with limbs exhausted but too charged with adrenaline to realize it; Jay flailed and cursed and kicked the prone form at his feet, but Randall dragged him back and off, just before the first police cruiser swung into the lot, followed by the ambulance.

The rest was a blur- the EMS crew doing a sort of rapid medical huddle over Bob, and getting him hooked to an I.V. and loaded into the ambulance, a semi-coherent statement to the cops about what had happened, Pinky, regaining consciousness, being cuffed and put into the back of a cruiser, Jay himself being driven to the hospital by Dante and Randal. Jay couldn't think, could barely feel, at least not much beyond the terror again, much worse than when he'd faced the pistol, nothing really present in his mind but the mantra, "Don't you dare die you silent tubby motherfucker don't you dare die and leave me don't you dare Bob," repeating over and over, his chest so tight it felt like an elephant was sitting on it. Or Bob. Bob sitting on him, pinning him during on of their mock playful fights; Jay began, quietly this time, to cry again, not a care in the world what the two clerks might think of it- all that mattered was Bob. Maybe, Bob was all that had ever really mattered.

Part 2

The hospital was a nightmare for Jay- Bob of course was in emergency surgery, and Jay could see doctors, nurses, orderlies, hurrying in and out, but know one could, or would, tell him anything beyond, 'we're doing everything we can', which just sounded fucking ominous; Jay filled out paper work, listing himself as next of kin, lying to say he was Bob's half brother, and figured he had about one more time of being told to wait before he exploded and started beating someone with an orange plastic chair. Dante and Randall tried to be helpful, at least at first, then Randall started in on Jay, saying he might as well have expected this, doing what he did and all, and then Jay did go off, yelling curses and nearly jumping on Randall except that he was restrained by security, while Dante dragged Randall off; they drove away.

After that, a cute candystriper teenager offered to get Jay coffee; ignoring the fact that he didn't much like coffee, not feeling inspired to commentary by the outline of the girl's ass, Jay just nodded a few times, and found himself with a styrofoam cup in hand sometime thereafter, not realizing until after the first few gulps that he'd just boiled the inside of his mouth- he barely felt it. "Fuck," he muttered, then immediately felt a huge wave of guilt, because Bob was in that room being cut on, and it was Jay's fault, like Randall said, and here he was bitching about a burned tongue. Jay gulped down the rest of the hot sludge, as if torturing himself in such a tiny way was going to make Bob suffer any less. Jay pestered the nurse at the desk, who remained polite but about as helpful as tits on a duck, paced, toked up in a bathroom, punched the wall in said bathroom until he almost needed medical care himself, answered more questions from the cops who came to ask them, paced some more, pestered the nurse some more, and generally felt he was losing his grip, as the minutes stretched into hours into eternity in hell. Then Jay found the hospital chapel and prayed, really prayed, after all, its not like he had any doubts anymore about the existence of God- She'd kissed him, hadn't She. Jay promised everything, anything, and basically just begged for Bob to live.

The doctor in charge of Bob's case found him there, and asked for a word; right then, if it had been a requirement, Jay would have given him head. Or a pound of flesh. Whatever. The ER surgeon, Dr. Gladstone of all the names to ordinarily make Jay snicker, though, seemed guarded, though not grim- Bob was alive, and he was stable for the moment, though he was still listed in very critical condition, and unconscious. Jay wanted to see him, and the doc demurred at first, then, seeing how important it was to Jay, agreed he could go in for just a minute.

Jay walked like there were eggshells under his feet, though it struck him seeing Bob in the hospital bed, so damn pale, bruised, with a ventilator, it occurred to Jay that an explosion probably wouldn't wake Bob right now- that thought did not help, and Jay found himself touching Bob's hand, the thick, strong fingers, now limp beyond the tape and IV feeds, voice choked, "You listen to me, Lunchbox, you're gonna be okay, I fuckin swear, you just get better and get your tubby ass outta that bed, fuck, man, I can't do this shit without you." Bob's mouth twitched almost imperceptibly up at the corners, but his eyes stayed closed, and a moment later Jay was being ushered out of the room. Despite what the nurses and Dr. Gladstone suggested, Jay wasn't going home and going to bed, there was no way he could sleep, anyhow, and so he just hauled his butt to one of the orange chairs, and slumped.

Jay did remember to thank Her silently in his thoughts, in the moment just before his eyes closed and he fell asleep sitting there, Bob's face imprinted behind his eyes as unconsciousness stole him away. In his sleep, Jay muttered something with the words 'Bob' and 'love' in it, but no one heard, not even Jay. No one, except a heavily drugged Bob, who dreamed for a morphine induced moment, a flicker of pale blonde hair and angry intense eyes: Bob's only definition of love.

Part 3

Jay was there when Bob woke, the next afternoon, having been home just long enough to shower, shave, and unwind a little with a bong, after the doctor had told him Bob was doing well, considering, and that the bullet had, luckily, missed any vital organs; the doctor on duty called him in after Bob, now off the ventilator, actually spoke out and asked for him insistently. Bob was already trying to sit up in his hospital bed, as if nothing much had happened, and he stared at Jay almost plaintively, as if asking Jay to get him out of here already. "Shit Lunchbox, you took a bullet.You have to, recuperate and shit," said Jay, as Bob gave him a frustrated but patient look, accepting that, "I mean, I thought you were fucking DEAD, Tubby! You scared the FUCK out of me!" Jay's eyes looked suspiciously damp, and the monitor tracking Bob's heartbeat suddenly beeped as his pulse soared up; a nurse looked in to tell Jay to keep it down and not get Bob over excited. Bob just smiled a little, though, and Jay's voice was softer, anyhow, as he went on, "You saved my fucking life, Bob." Bob nodded, and looked almost thrilled with that, well, as much as he could before wincing in pain. Jay fidgeted, and squirmed, not able to stand still, and Bob just watched him; Jay opened his mouth to speak a few times and shut it just as quickly, as if he didn't know what to say now.

Far too soon, despite Jay's inner turmoil, the nurse was back to usher him out, and he left, telling Bob he'd be back the next time he was allowed to visit; Jay went down to the cafeteria to see if he could score something resembling food, even though his throat was too closed to possibly allow him to eat, unaware of the conversation above in Bob's room. The nurse checked Bob's pulse, and took his temperature, adjusted his IV feeds, changed the bandages, and gave him another shot of pain medication; she couldn't resist commenting, "Your brother certainly does care for you, doesn't he, such an excitable boy." Bob's eyebrow shot up at the suggestion that Jay was his brother, and he smirked half dopily, but she, being someone who'd been in the people care business for years, thought she knew what he meant, and she smiled down at him, "He's not your brother, is he?"

Bob's response was a half shrug that brought another wince, and she patted his shoulder, "There there, stay still, honey. It's all right. I didn't think he was, really, but I won't tell anyone. You two have been together for a while, haven't you?" Bob nodded sleepily, and the nurse smoothed down his hair, not intimidated at all by his size, she smiled, "Well, you love each other, anyone can see that," as Bob's eyelids drifted south and closed, while Bob thought hazily, 'anyone but Jay', and drifted off into the arms of morpheus.

Jay found nothing he wanted to attempt to choke down in the cafeteria, and, restless, began wandering the hospital, once being kicked out of the cardiac care unit for fiddling with some machine left sitting in a corridor, and completely by mistake, wandered up to the obstretrics wing; realizing where he was, seeing all the preg bitches sitting with their swollen bellies, he turned to go, not in the mood to crack jokes, when he realized that one of the women, hugely bulging out in front, was Bethany; Bob and he had stayed tight with her since she'd chosen to settle in Red Bank, and, she looked up right then, too, and smiled, the smile that meant, 'I'm glad to see you though I don't know why' along with some confusion in her eyes as to why he was here; she waddled over and greeted him with a comment about wasn't he going to ask if he could 'do' her now. Jay just shook his head no, and soon found himself pouring out the whole story to her; Bethany listened with a sort of shocked horror to the story, and said she'd be down to see Bob as soon as her appointment was over, she asked how he was coping, and Jay nearly lost it, wondering since when his emotions had become so surface and and raw.

Bethany looked at him, long and hard, and then murmured, "Well, you should just tell him, you know." Jay gave her a 'what the hell?' look, and she smirked, "Tell Bob how you feel, Jay. Or are you planning on waiting until someone actually does die? He loves you too, you know." Jay's mouth popped open to deny it, and Bethany knew she was right on, but didn't get a chance to do more than say, "See you later," and laugh a little at Jay's expression, as the nurse announed for Ms. Sloane to come back.

Jay dragged himself back downstairs, and found himself outside the hospital, and, walking away fast, muttering to himself and yelling at himself mentally, denying hardcore; well, sure, he loved Bob, as a friend and all, but, no way! I mean, just because he fantasized about the tubby motherfucker when he was wacking it didn't mean... Jay stopped in mid stride, and spoke outloud, "Holy FUCK I am in love with Bob!" sounding astonished. Unfortunately, he had also chosen to stop in mid stride in the middle of a crosswalk, and nearly ended up going back to the hospital in a much worse way than he'd left, except the Hyundai managed to swerve around him, the driver yelling something about 'get out of the road asshole!', and Jay turned around, and walked back the way he had come.

Part 4

Jay kept putting it off and putting it off, though he'd all but run back to the hospital, but visit after visit, he'd start to tell Bob what he'd realized, what he felt, and his throat would close up, his mouth would snap shut, bringing an arched eyebrow from Bob; Jay was dead scared that if he told Bob that he loved him, loved him like THAT, Bob would look at him horrified, or laugh, or worst of all, leave him. That Bob loved him, Jay knew, but he'd never really shown that it was anything beyond the sort of love that best buds share, nothing beyond the fact that Bob stuck with him no matter how much shit he dished out, or the looks that Bob sometimes gave Jay when he'd taken a pause in his constant ranting. Well, that was often, now; Jay had become almost as silent, with the burden of what he had to say, as Bob.

Days passed, and the tension grew until Jay thought his head was going to explode; nights passed and Jay spent them at their apartment, jerking off in Bob's bed after reading up on gay sex on the internet, just so he'd know exactly what he was fantasizing about. Otherwise, Jay had to give a formal statement to the police, and then found out he wouldn't even be testifying, since Pinky's lawyer had put in for a reduced sentence in return for a guilty plea. Asshole. Bastard would be skinned fuckin ALIVE if Jay had his way. Still, he now had a pretty good idea how the pleasure he was frustrating himself to death over thinking about with Bob, could be pretty damn unpleasurable, if done without any care or preparation, and he took satisfaction in picturing Pinky getting fucked in prison, just like that, painfully.

A week and a half, and Bob was released, with the warnings about taking it easy and the appointment for the first follow-up check up, and, back home, Jay knew he had to tell him, finally, had to say or do something, but how, and what? How long he would have stalled might have stretched out infinitely, if Bob hadn't been the one to speak up for a change, "Jay, man. Just say it already. Whatever it is, it'll be all right," in that low wonderful voice, his eyes locked into Jay's, calm and curious and some other emotion Jay couldn't read.

"Shit Lunchbox, just fuckin say it? Like THAT?!" Jay started off, running a hand through his long blond hair; Bob nodded. Jay sat down beside him on the couch. "Ok. Shit. Its like this. I love your ass. I mean, I love you. You know. Like, makin with the love, wanting your dick, all that gayass shit." Bob, amazingly, infuriatingly, just nodded again, a little smile dancing on his lips. Jay stared at him, "Godamnit, Tubby! Fuckin SAY something!" Bob blinked, and took a breath audibly, then, "I know. I was waiting for you to figure it out. I love you too, like that. Have for years."

Jay just looked stunned, his mouth was even hanging slightly open; he closed it, then slid closer to Bob, "So you're ok with that?" Bob nodded, smiling wider; "You want to fuck me, Bob?" Bob nodded again, full on grinning this time. Jay looked down at Bob's lap, and saw the rise in Bob's baggy jeans at the thought, getting the same exact reaction himself. "Well shit, what're we waiting for Lunchbox?" Jay never had a lot of trouble stripping himself fast, which was the first thing he did, shedding clothes in record time until he stood in only his socks with his hardon pointing up at the air, and then he went to work on Bob's clothes, somewhat less effectively, since he tried to do it, sitting on his lap, and leaning in to kiss him.

The kiss was something from the golden age of Hollywood combined with really top shelf porn, Jay's lips seemed to melt into Bob's, almost, soft but not too soft, the feel of his beard scratchy and tickling, wonderful, and the smoke and coffee taste of Bob's lips; their tongues sought one another at the same time, eager and slippery and wrapping around each other like hungry baby eels. Jay's dick rubbed against Bob, and he moaned into the kiss, reaching under to try and free Bob from his jeans; Bob just wrapped his arms around Jay and kissed him hard, closing his eyes, and moaning himself when Jay's hand found Bob's long, hard cock, at the same time that Jay started sucking his tongue; Jay broke the kiss when he slid off Bob's lap and ended up kneeling between his legs. "Check this shit out, Lunchbox," he grinned, licking his lips, and bending in close.

Bob's eyes looked like they were going to pop out of his head at the sensation of Jay's tongue licking up along his cock, and he groaned and slid his fingers into the long blond hair when Jay started to suck, slow at first, uncertain, his mouth a little dry, but as Jay got into it, his mouth got slicker with saliva, and Bob couldn't believe how good it felt- Jay couldn't believe how right it felt, that he was sucking a dick and loving it, but then, it was Bob's dick, and everytime he licked, Bob would moan softly, when his mouth slid down he could feel the fingers in his hair twitch. Fucking BEAUTIFUL. Jay reached down one hand, taking his own cock in his hand and jerking off while he slurped up and down Bob's cock; pulling back, he flicked his tongue over the tip, tasting the salt of precum, moaning at Bob and looking up at him, then starting to suck him faster, his mouth moving up and down, so damn hot on Bob's dick, while Bob gasped and groaned louder, his hips getting into it, small thrusts he couldn't help.

Jay gagged a little, and pulled back off, and then he was gone with a slide of silk hair through Bob's fingers: Bob blinked his eyes open, wondering what the hell, muttering, "Jay?" - actually, he was worried that Jay had started to freak out, but before he could get up, Jay was back, cock bobbing as he bounced around on his toes, and waving the tube of lube at Bob, grinning hugely, while he squirted half the tube into his hand and then made Bob gasp again, first with cold, then with sensation, as he slicked Bob's cock with the extra running into his pubes. Jay crawled up straddling over Bob, "Now you just take it easy like the doc said, I'll do allll the work," he crooned, teasing. Bob nodded and helped support him there, hands on his lower back, while Jay held on to the back of the couch with the hand not steadying Bob's dick.

Jay sat down, fast, too fast. Bob groaned in almost pain, then the most incredible sensation he'd ever felt, as his cock was forced all at once into unbelievable tightness and heat; Jay's face was a mask of pain, and Bob, looking up as he felt the slender body shudder on top of him, felt like his heart was going to stop, just looking at him now. Jay was still, not moving, taking long deep breaths, Bob opened his mouth, but Jay just shook his head and grinned. "I'm ok, just gimme a second," since he knew Bob was maybe about to stop him, or try, and no way was he stopping now. Jay started moving slowly, both hands on the couch's back now, pulling himself up with his legs and arms, lowering himself down; fuck did it ever hurt, like being ripped open, but the expression on Bob's face, half-closed eyes, open gasping mouth, made it worth it, that and hearing his groans.

Bob's hips moved as he thrust with Jay's momentum, just a small thrust, and his eyes flew open fully again hearing the yowl the blonde boy let out; Jay was the one looking shocked now, shocked and ecstatic. "FUUuck Lunchbox! Do that AGAIN!" he demanded, his cock fully hard again against Bob's abdomen. Jay slammed himself down again while Bob thrust up, apparently managing to 'do it again', since Jay kept hollering on every thrust and non-stop moaning, riding him harder and faster, delirious with pleasure. Bob couldn't take much of that, and he slid a hand around Jay's cock as he felt himself start to come, a groan of, "oh-god-Jay!" and another thrust into his lover, then emptying himself inside Jay.

Jay felt him still, felt Bob's cock twitch hard inside him, and knew the man he loved, knew that Bob, was coming, and saying his name while he did it; Bob's hand tightened around Jay's aching dick and that was all it took, and Jay yelled "OHFUCK!BOB!FUCK!" and was spurting all over them both.

Coming down, dazed with the aftershock and panting softly, Jay let himself rest against Bob, holding him, not moving, still impaled. No, still joined, Bob's cock inside his ass, Bob's arm around him, his cheek on Bob's shoulder, Bob's fast breath in his ear, and he whispered, voice a little stunned and shaky, "Love you." Bob's hand came up Jay's sweaty back, and caressed gently over his long, now damp, hair; "I love you, too, Jay. Always have. Always will." Jay blinked at the words, and smiled, pressing a kiss against the side of Bob's throat, "Yeah?" ..and Bob held him, and nodded.


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