fic, 'down the road and back again', R
for the usedfic exchange
'down the road and back again'
bob+jepha, early days fic, friends w/ benefits
for llamapi
Disclaimer: Any similarity to events real, or fictional, not intended. Not real, never happened.
Summary: 'You're a pal and a confidant.'
The first time Jepha and Bob fuck, Bob wakes up the next morning in a cramped, stuffy bunk that’s made more cramped and stuffy because Jepha is curled half on Bob, half in the space between Bob and the wall. Bob’s been working with The Used for a few months now and he and Jepha made fast friends. Bob’s not entirely sure how; outside of music they have little in the way of similar interests.
He and Jepha bond pretty quickly after Quinn and Bert start a prank war against, well, everyone. It doesn’t take long for Bob to work out that Bert and Quinn have an ‘us against the world’ mentality that sometimes surfaces as them tormenting everyone around them, and getting away with it because everyone is too scared to retaliate.
Bob, they were not expecting. He starts with a personal favorite, jalapeño extract in their drinks. Afterward, Jepha came up to him and said, ‘Wow.’ Bob had shrugged and turned back to his board. ‘You know that’s only going to encourage them, right?’
‘I’ve got more where that came from.’ He does. Bob spent the better part of high school on pranks, when he wasn’t beating a drum somewhere. And that’s how Jepha and Bob began.
Now, Bob looks down at the top of Jepha’s head and thinks, ‘Fuck.’ He’s pretty sure this kind of thing can never end well. Friends and fucking don’t mix and he never expected to be here, especially not with Jepha. He’s thinking of ways to get out of the bunk without waking Jepha when Jepha’s eyes crack open and he looks at Bob.
‘Morning,’ he says, morning breath wafting up Bob’s nose. Bob tries very hard not to comment on how much it smells like dead dog. Jepha scrunches up his nose, ‘Wow, that’s disgusting. Fetch me tea.’ He pokes at Bob’s side and Bob snatches his hand.
‘Fuck you, get your own tea.’
Jepha’s eyes go wide, ‘But Bob,’ he sticks out his lower lip and starts it quivering, ‘I gave you orgasms last night.’ Bob thinks on this for a moment; this is true. What’s also true is orgasms or not, Bob is no one’s bitch.
‘Fuck off, get your own fucking tea.’ He follows this up with a firm tug and shove of Jepha, sending him tumbling out of the bunk onto the floor. When Bob hears the thump of Jepha’s head against the floor, he feels bad for a moment before remembering he has a bottom bunk, so it was at most a two foot drop.
‘But Bob,’ Jepha announces in a voice meant to be heard by everyone on this bus and possibly the bus next door, ‘You always used to get me tea, even before I gave you orgasms.’
Bob throws his pillow out after Jepha, ‘Fuck you, I did not. Your goddamned legs aren’t broke get your own fucking tea.’ As an afterthought he adds, ‘And brush your fucking teeth, your breath smells like dead dog.’
He hears, rather than sees Jepha push himself up. Jepha kicks his foot into Bob’s bunk and parts with, ‘My breath smells like your dick, so what does that say about you?’ He’s gone before Bob has a chance to voice a come back.
*
The second time is less of an accident, but still a friendly exchange of mutual orgasms. The difference is they get to be in a real bed because somebody splurged for motel rooms. Granted, they are crammed 5 and 6 to a room, but there’s hot water and a real, actual bed. Bob steps into the shower and is so grateful he thinks he might tear up. The moment passes before he’s even unwrapped the soap.
Bob is standing under the shower, watching his skin turn red from the heat, and doesn’t hear the bathroom door open, let alone notice Jepha stripping down. It isn’t until Jepha pulls back the shower curtain, naked and grinning that Bob notices more than the wonder that is being clean after longer than he cares to think about.
‘Hi!’ Jepha climbs into the shower and pulls the curtain closed. ‘I decided we should practice water conservation.’
Bob rolls his eyes and shakes his head. ‘Did you now?’ he says in a flat voice.
Jepha nods vigorously, interrupting the spray of water with every forward motion. ‘You know me, I’m all for saving the planet anyway I can. Also, fucking in the shower means no falling asleep with come on the sheets, or us.’
This is thinking Bob can get behind.
*
Bob’s under the board, looking for a short when feet show up in his line of vision. He squints and crawls out, smacking his head on the edge in the process. ‘Ow.’ He stands, rubbing at the spot. Quinn is standing before him. ‘Um, hi.’
Quinn reaches out and smacks the other side of Bob’s head. ‘Ow, fucker!’ Quinn hits hard and only pulls his punches for Bert. ‘What the fuck?’
‘What are your intentions toward my bassist?’ Quinn asks. Bob rolls his eyes and sits down. Quinn glares down at him. Quinn is good with a glare, probably even better than Schechter.
‘I have no intentions, asshole. Jepha’s my friend with whom I occasionally swap spit and other bodily fluids.’ Bob looks up at Quinn and smirks, just a little. ‘I’m not going to steal him away from you guys.’
Quinn narrows his eyes at Bob. ‘Are you sure, because I’ll kill you dead and they’ll never find the body.’
‘Yes, fucker. I’m not going to fall madly in love with him. That’s not how it is.’
Quinn smiles then and Bob’s breath is momentarily taken away. Quinn is kind of gorgeous when he smiles. Bob had never noticed before. ‘Well, yeah, I knew that. Had to make sure you knew that, too.’ Quinn swats his head again, ‘Later, fartknocker.’
Bob curses and rubs at his head. What he told Quinn is true, Bob does love Jepha, but more like a brother and…and…wow, Bob’s going to stop that line of thinking right now before he creeps himself out and is never able to get hard again. He sighs and climbs back underneath the board, there’s still a short to fix and a show to put on.
*
‘You’re going to leave me one day, I can tell,’ Jepha says. He’s sprawled across Bob’s bed, watch Bob pack for Europe.
Bob turns and gives Jepha a confused look. ‘What the fuck are you talking about?’ Jepha motions to the empty duffel on the floor. ‘Someone newer and shinier is going to come along and seduce you away with their two guitars and lack of Bert putting bird shit up your nose when you sleep.’
Bob shakes his head and turns back to his closet, digging for clean pants and a different hoodie. He wants to tell Jepha that’s not true, but he did agree to go with Brian and Brian’s new band free of charge. Bob really likes what these guys are doing. ‘It’s just a favor for Brian,’ he says instead.
Something smacks Bob in the back and he turns to see Jepha shoeless, one black, almost grey, Chuck on the floor next to Bob’s foot. ‘I call bullshit there, Bryar. I know Brian can’t pay you for it.’
‘Jepha, I-’
Jepha flaps his hand at Bob, the letters on his fingers blurring together. ‘I’m just saying lie to whoever you want. But we don’t lie to each other. Tell anybody else that story. But not me. And not Bert or Quinn or Branden. You don’t have to lie to us.’
Bob takes a breath and slumps against the closet door. ‘Okay, fine. I like them. I like what they’re doing. I think they might make something of themselves. So yeah, I’m going for free. Also, you guys aren’t touring right now, so why not? But I’m not leaving you for something shinier. I may however leave you for their two guitars.’
Jepha scrunches up his face and barks out a laugh. ‘See! I knew you’d leave us for the guitars. Especially Toro’s. I saw your face that first time Bryar. Toro’s going to seduce you away.’
Bob shrugs and grins at Jepha. ‘What can I say? It’s the hair.’
*
Bob never thinks back to the conversation with Jepha until he gets a somewhat frantic phone call from Ray and Brian just after My Chem’s first Summersonic show. He listens more than he talks and in the end he asks if he can have a little time to think about it. They both agree and Bob ends the call.
He looks at his phone and thinks of calling his Ma, but she’ll tell him to do what makes him happy, just remember he does have bills to pay. Bob gets his practical from his ma. In the end, he doesn’t call her, but searches out Jepha, who’s playing ping pong with Branden.
Bob looms in the door until Bert catches his eye. ‘Jepha! I think Bob’s lurking at you,’ Bert shouts across the room. Jepha looks up and the ping pong ball flies past his ear. Branden whoops while Quinn and Bert snicker from the floor. Jepha throws his paddle at Bert, but Quinn catches it before it can hit him.
Bob jerks his head toward the hall and Jepha follows him out and down out of earshot. ‘I know this look,’ Jepha says.
‘I got a job offer,’ Bob says. ‘It’s not doing sound.’ Jepha looks at him, really looks, getting close enough to brush their noses together. Jepha never blinks, and it’s all Bob can do not to back up.
Jepha pulls away and a smile creeps across his face. ‘Please tell me it’s with My Chem, please.’ Bob nods and Jepha whoops, jumping up on Bob. Bob catches him on instinct.
‘This, my friend, is fucking awesome! Back to the boys! There will be a celebration tonight!’ Jepha wraps one arm around Bob’s neck and his legs around Bob’s waist. ‘Come on!’
‘Hold on, just. So you’re saying I should do it?’
Jepha looks down at Bob and smacks him with his free hand. ‘I’m saying if you don’t take it I will have Branden kick your ass and then let Bert pee on you while you sleep.’ That’s really all the affirmation Bob needs. ‘Just, one thing.’
‘Yeah?’ Bob hopes it’s quick, whatever it is. Jepha’s heavier than he looks.
Jepha looks down and gives him another of his soul-searching looks. ‘Can I still stick my hand down your pants sometimes?’
'down the road and back again'
bob+jepha, early days fic, friends w/ benefits
for llamapi
Disclaimer: Any similarity to events real, or fictional, not intended. Not real, never happened.
Summary: 'You're a pal and a confidant.'
The first time Jepha and Bob fuck, Bob wakes up the next morning in a cramped, stuffy bunk that’s made more cramped and stuffy because Jepha is curled half on Bob, half in the space between Bob and the wall. Bob’s been working with The Used for a few months now and he and Jepha made fast friends. Bob’s not entirely sure how; outside of music they have little in the way of similar interests.
He and Jepha bond pretty quickly after Quinn and Bert start a prank war against, well, everyone. It doesn’t take long for Bob to work out that Bert and Quinn have an ‘us against the world’ mentality that sometimes surfaces as them tormenting everyone around them, and getting away with it because everyone is too scared to retaliate.
Bob, they were not expecting. He starts with a personal favorite, jalapeño extract in their drinks. Afterward, Jepha came up to him and said, ‘Wow.’ Bob had shrugged and turned back to his board. ‘You know that’s only going to encourage them, right?’
‘I’ve got more where that came from.’ He does. Bob spent the better part of high school on pranks, when he wasn’t beating a drum somewhere. And that’s how Jepha and Bob began.
Now, Bob looks down at the top of Jepha’s head and thinks, ‘Fuck.’ He’s pretty sure this kind of thing can never end well. Friends and fucking don’t mix and he never expected to be here, especially not with Jepha. He’s thinking of ways to get out of the bunk without waking Jepha when Jepha’s eyes crack open and he looks at Bob.
‘Morning,’ he says, morning breath wafting up Bob’s nose. Bob tries very hard not to comment on how much it smells like dead dog. Jepha scrunches up his nose, ‘Wow, that’s disgusting. Fetch me tea.’ He pokes at Bob’s side and Bob snatches his hand.
‘Fuck you, get your own tea.’
Jepha’s eyes go wide, ‘But Bob,’ he sticks out his lower lip and starts it quivering, ‘I gave you orgasms last night.’ Bob thinks on this for a moment; this is true. What’s also true is orgasms or not, Bob is no one’s bitch.
‘Fuck off, get your own fucking tea.’ He follows this up with a firm tug and shove of Jepha, sending him tumbling out of the bunk onto the floor. When Bob hears the thump of Jepha’s head against the floor, he feels bad for a moment before remembering he has a bottom bunk, so it was at most a two foot drop.
‘But Bob,’ Jepha announces in a voice meant to be heard by everyone on this bus and possibly the bus next door, ‘You always used to get me tea, even before I gave you orgasms.’
Bob throws his pillow out after Jepha, ‘Fuck you, I did not. Your goddamned legs aren’t broke get your own fucking tea.’ As an afterthought he adds, ‘And brush your fucking teeth, your breath smells like dead dog.’
He hears, rather than sees Jepha push himself up. Jepha kicks his foot into Bob’s bunk and parts with, ‘My breath smells like your dick, so what does that say about you?’ He’s gone before Bob has a chance to voice a come back.
*
The second time is less of an accident, but still a friendly exchange of mutual orgasms. The difference is they get to be in a real bed because somebody splurged for motel rooms. Granted, they are crammed 5 and 6 to a room, but there’s hot water and a real, actual bed. Bob steps into the shower and is so grateful he thinks he might tear up. The moment passes before he’s even unwrapped the soap.
Bob is standing under the shower, watching his skin turn red from the heat, and doesn’t hear the bathroom door open, let alone notice Jepha stripping down. It isn’t until Jepha pulls back the shower curtain, naked and grinning that Bob notices more than the wonder that is being clean after longer than he cares to think about.
‘Hi!’ Jepha climbs into the shower and pulls the curtain closed. ‘I decided we should practice water conservation.’
Bob rolls his eyes and shakes his head. ‘Did you now?’ he says in a flat voice.
Jepha nods vigorously, interrupting the spray of water with every forward motion. ‘You know me, I’m all for saving the planet anyway I can. Also, fucking in the shower means no falling asleep with come on the sheets, or us.’
This is thinking Bob can get behind.
*
Bob’s under the board, looking for a short when feet show up in his line of vision. He squints and crawls out, smacking his head on the edge in the process. ‘Ow.’ He stands, rubbing at the spot. Quinn is standing before him. ‘Um, hi.’
Quinn reaches out and smacks the other side of Bob’s head. ‘Ow, fucker!’ Quinn hits hard and only pulls his punches for Bert. ‘What the fuck?’
‘What are your intentions toward my bassist?’ Quinn asks. Bob rolls his eyes and sits down. Quinn glares down at him. Quinn is good with a glare, probably even better than Schechter.
‘I have no intentions, asshole. Jepha’s my friend with whom I occasionally swap spit and other bodily fluids.’ Bob looks up at Quinn and smirks, just a little. ‘I’m not going to steal him away from you guys.’
Quinn narrows his eyes at Bob. ‘Are you sure, because I’ll kill you dead and they’ll never find the body.’
‘Yes, fucker. I’m not going to fall madly in love with him. That’s not how it is.’
Quinn smiles then and Bob’s breath is momentarily taken away. Quinn is kind of gorgeous when he smiles. Bob had never noticed before. ‘Well, yeah, I knew that. Had to make sure you knew that, too.’ Quinn swats his head again, ‘Later, fartknocker.’
Bob curses and rubs at his head. What he told Quinn is true, Bob does love Jepha, but more like a brother and…and…wow, Bob’s going to stop that line of thinking right now before he creeps himself out and is never able to get hard again. He sighs and climbs back underneath the board, there’s still a short to fix and a show to put on.
*
‘You’re going to leave me one day, I can tell,’ Jepha says. He’s sprawled across Bob’s bed, watch Bob pack for Europe.
Bob turns and gives Jepha a confused look. ‘What the fuck are you talking about?’ Jepha motions to the empty duffel on the floor. ‘Someone newer and shinier is going to come along and seduce you away with their two guitars and lack of Bert putting bird shit up your nose when you sleep.’
Bob shakes his head and turns back to his closet, digging for clean pants and a different hoodie. He wants to tell Jepha that’s not true, but he did agree to go with Brian and Brian’s new band free of charge. Bob really likes what these guys are doing. ‘It’s just a favor for Brian,’ he says instead.
Something smacks Bob in the back and he turns to see Jepha shoeless, one black, almost grey, Chuck on the floor next to Bob’s foot. ‘I call bullshit there, Bryar. I know Brian can’t pay you for it.’
‘Jepha, I-’
Jepha flaps his hand at Bob, the letters on his fingers blurring together. ‘I’m just saying lie to whoever you want. But we don’t lie to each other. Tell anybody else that story. But not me. And not Bert or Quinn or Branden. You don’t have to lie to us.’
Bob takes a breath and slumps against the closet door. ‘Okay, fine. I like them. I like what they’re doing. I think they might make something of themselves. So yeah, I’m going for free. Also, you guys aren’t touring right now, so why not? But I’m not leaving you for something shinier. I may however leave you for their two guitars.’
Jepha scrunches up his face and barks out a laugh. ‘See! I knew you’d leave us for the guitars. Especially Toro’s. I saw your face that first time Bryar. Toro’s going to seduce you away.’
Bob shrugs and grins at Jepha. ‘What can I say? It’s the hair.’
*
Bob never thinks back to the conversation with Jepha until he gets a somewhat frantic phone call from Ray and Brian just after My Chem’s first Summersonic show. He listens more than he talks and in the end he asks if he can have a little time to think about it. They both agree and Bob ends the call.
He looks at his phone and thinks of calling his Ma, but she’ll tell him to do what makes him happy, just remember he does have bills to pay. Bob gets his practical from his ma. In the end, he doesn’t call her, but searches out Jepha, who’s playing ping pong with Branden.
Bob looms in the door until Bert catches his eye. ‘Jepha! I think Bob’s lurking at you,’ Bert shouts across the room. Jepha looks up and the ping pong ball flies past his ear. Branden whoops while Quinn and Bert snicker from the floor. Jepha throws his paddle at Bert, but Quinn catches it before it can hit him.
Bob jerks his head toward the hall and Jepha follows him out and down out of earshot. ‘I know this look,’ Jepha says.
‘I got a job offer,’ Bob says. ‘It’s not doing sound.’ Jepha looks at him, really looks, getting close enough to brush their noses together. Jepha never blinks, and it’s all Bob can do not to back up.
Jepha pulls away and a smile creeps across his face. ‘Please tell me it’s with My Chem, please.’ Bob nods and Jepha whoops, jumping up on Bob. Bob catches him on instinct.
‘This, my friend, is fucking awesome! Back to the boys! There will be a celebration tonight!’ Jepha wraps one arm around Bob’s neck and his legs around Bob’s waist. ‘Come on!’
‘Hold on, just. So you’re saying I should do it?’
Jepha looks down at Bob and smacks him with his free hand. ‘I’m saying if you don’t take it I will have Branden kick your ass and then let Bert pee on you while you sleep.’ That’s really all the affirmation Bob needs. ‘Just, one thing.’
‘Yeah?’ Bob hopes it’s quick, whatever it is. Jepha’s heavier than he looks.
Jepha looks down and gives him another of his soul-searching looks. ‘Can I still stick my hand down your pants sometimes?’