Title: Next
Author: Stormyfish
Fandom: View Askewniverse, Chasing Amy
Pairing: Banky/Holden
Rating: R (This one's a nice softy.)
Warnings: Not suitable for kids, etc.
Archive: Sure.
E-mail address for feedback: stormyfish1@hotmail.com
Summary: This is a standard follow up story.Predictable but necessary. I
needed resolution, so I wrote it myself. Banky's POV
on the morning after the Holden's "indecent proposal." Hope you enjoy.
Disclaimer: Mr. Smith, thanks for the boys, and we'll always give them back
when we're done playing with them. No infringement
or theft intended.

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

I clicked the door behind me, and flopped down on my bed. My head weighed a
million pounds. My heart was beating right out of
my chest-I could feel it in my toes. What the hell just happened? Fuck,
fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck!!!! Too stunned to cry or scream or
even think. I try to just breathe it out of me, as if deep breathing and
some Zen-like bullshit could take me right out of here. God
damn it.

I must have fallen asleep after that, because next thing I knew that fucking
bitch was kicking my ass on Madden's NHL. How the
fuck can I lose to her, when at least one third of my waking hours are spent
on the virtual ice?. Obviously a dream. Lying in bed
pissed off at my fucked-up dream world, it came back to me in a hot wave of
sickness how fucked up my real world is. Damn
it,Holden. How ironic that I'd dream about Sega at a time like this.
Inappropriate really...I'm in the middle of something that some
would call traumatic, I guess, and I'm dreaming about Sega. Figures.

Electing not to process, I opened my door to head to the kitchen for a
beverage. My mouth felt like I'd been eating paste in my
sleep. Maybe I'm one of those freaks who sleepwalks and does all kinds of
crazy shit while they're sleeping. That would be cool. I
rubbed my eyes and looked up, and there was Holden-sitting on the couch
staring towards my room. I just blinked a few times and
then continued to the kitchen. That fucking dick. I know I'm going to feel
sorry for him, but I don't yet.

Mountain Dew in hand, I plopped down next to him. "Nice hair," I said. He
had this hilarious helmet of morning hair that couldn't
pass without remark.

"How can you drink that shit in the morning? God."

"I'm replacing electrolytes lost in a hard night of spanking it.
Seriously-I've gotta get the fur off my teeth with something acidic."

He gave me a one-syllable shoulder chuckle. The ice was broken. It looked
like we might just be able to pretend that our little
*therapy session* didn't happen last night. Thank God.

"Bank, I'm sorry about last night."

"Good. You fucking should be."

"Well, if you're hoping I feel like an asshole, I do, so you can revel in
that a little bit." Holden stopped looking at me and stared off
into space. "Alyssa's past just rocked me, you know? And I just thought I
could erase it or make it feel different or something. And
I just wanted to make you stop hating her..It's like-I can hate her-but it's
this personal diss if you hate her. I just thought I
could fix it."

Holden, you stupid fuck. You're so wrapped up in yourself you don't ever
fucking get it. "Fix it?Are you trying to tell me that last
night was about you devising some kinky sex scheme so I won't hate her?
What the FUCK! You certainly remember things in a
different light. What about me? Maybe you blacked this part out, but it
was more that a little bit disturbing to have my best friend
insinuate that I'm a faggot ? and that I should get some dick and 'deal with
it'. How the fuck am I supposed to read that?" In my
best mocky voice: "Holden says, 'Fuck me up the ass-everybody knows you want
to,' but Banky is supposed to hear, 'I wish you
liked my carpetlicker-she's really a good person.' Fuck."

There he was-stunned again. Like it never occurred to him that I might be a
little upset let alone fucking livid. His blank, innocent
face set me on fire. God was I pissed. There goes my optimism about
brushing this under the rug. So fucking naïve.

I sat there waiting for the red to drain from my face, and when I finally
looked over at him-his eyes were closed. His face was wet.
I remarked, "God. You're such a fucking mess. You don't have any idea
what you're doing most of the time, do you? I recognize
that you've got *issues* or whatever, but I'd really appreciate it you could
avoid projecting them on me. Don't get all fucking
melodramatic--I'm just pissed off. It's not like I'm not going to get over
it."

"Bank, I don't think you're gay---

"Oh really, because that was a little cloudy-"

"--Hooper is gay." He chuckled nervously to diffuse his embarrassment. "I
just thought-"

He stopped. In indecision. Clearly he doesn't know what he 'just thought',
and I was good and well happy to end the discussion
there.

No such luck. "I just..Don't flip out.. Hooper said something that put the
idea in my head I guess. It never occurred to me
before that.but then I started thinking about it, and I just saw it in you.
I mean, I felt something between us that I thought was there
because you wanted it. It was like, he planted this little seed in my head,
and I just let the idea get out of control in there. Last night
you said something about hanging out with Alyssa is making me think
everyone's gay, and maybe there's something to that.."

I said nothing.

"Well," I blurted angrily, "I can tell you right now that I didn't want it.
Nothing was there because I fucking 'wanted it'."

He said nothing.

After an interminable silence, I spoke tentatively, "..so, did you think
about it? I'm not trying to freak you out or anything, but I am
a little fascinated. My best friend was having faggy thoughts about me.
Shit--this should be a movie." I smirked. I was teasing, but
I really wanted to know. What had he been thinking?

I saw torment in his eyes. It was as if so many thoughts were dying to get
out at once that there was a huge neural traffic jam.

"I meant what I said," Holden offered.

"When you asserted that I was queer and conflicted and everybody knew it but
me--or when you said you we attracted to me, or-"

"would you quit fucking sticking it in my face? I'm trying to be honest
here, and you're making fun of me, and you know I'm going
to regret it for the rest of my life, so just let me talk. Fuck, Banky.
Yes. I thought about it. I thought about breaking through the
bullshit and kissing you. I thought about the relief that would come with
that if you didn't kill me. I've been a little off lately, and it
just made sense in my head. The more I thought about your attraction to
me-even if I imagined it-the more I wanted to see what it
was like. I felt it, Banky..I don't know if it was me, or you, or in my
brain, but *I felt it*."

Sometime during his diatribe I stood up. And backed away. The tension was
thick. I don't know if I was trying to escape, or just
make more room for his words that were filling the air with palpable
intensity. Wow. I considered going to the kitchen for another
drink, in an effort to justify my standing.

Holden stood before me, right in my face, nervous as fuck, and said, "Kiss
me."

No bullshit. No question. Just a straight-up directive. He's lost it.
"Sure."

In a balls-out terrifying move, I closed my eyes and brought my lips to his.
It was simple, short, and exhilarating. So different.
<<What the fuck?!?>> Wow. I pulled back to look at Holden. His eyes were
clamped shut. There was tension in his face and neck
and pain and fear behind his closed lids. In a cold nervous sweat myself, I
understood and empathized. A wave of valiance swept
through me; suddenly I was overwhelmed by the desire to be the fucking lead
dog-the caution-to-the-wind who-gives-a-fuck brave
one. Taking the back of his neck firmly in my hand, I kissed him.
Passionately. His lips were velvet.and strong. and I was
driven to make them feel what mine felt. It was a fucking movie kiss. (Are
we in a movie? I thought again.) I kissed his cheek, a few
times I think, and the feel of his rough skin sent an unprecedented thrill
to my gut. His powerful arms held me close--hands firm
against my back--and I reveled in it. A new sensation, to say the least.
WOW.

I think I get it.

Moments later we pulled apart, both afraid to open our eyes to the insane
reality of the situation before us. A cocktail of humiliation
and relief and pure ecstasy brewed in my middle. Did I fucking *want* that?
Did he? What the hell is he thinking, and can I please
dissolve before he opens his eyes???? As I opened my eyes Holden stood
rigidly in my embrace.eyes open, face flushed, and hard
as a fucking rock. Me too. With a slow blink and a nervous grin, he
released his breath and said, "Do we have to talk about this?"

My voice smiled back with relief and said, "FUCK-NO."

We stammered off to our rooms. It's been a long time since I've felt drunk
before noon. What's next? What in the hell is in store
for us? What's it going to be like? We have comics to make and Sega to
play and hockey games to go to..and how in the hell
are we going to be ourselves? Fuck. If I try to wrap my brain around it my
head will explode. I feel like I've been smacked. I just
close my door, lie down on my bed, and spend some time with my dick and my
thoughts.

~*~

- Balance -