Title: Run Out of Road

Rating: PG-13 for language and slashy stuff.

Notes: This is just a little side-piece I did while once again trying to work through writer's block. Blah. It's real-person fic, so if that bugs you, you might wanna turn back now. It was also semi-inspired by "Boys Say Go" by the insanely talented Nix, which you can also find on ff.net and are muchly encouraged to go read. Now. Oh yeah - and there's some slash stuff in here, too. Nothing graphic, but if that bothers you, run away while you can.

******

"I feel like a whore."

The comment came totally unexpectedly, so much so that Jason Reso, notorious for his oblivious attitude, was knocked from his silent reverie. For the past several minutes, he'd entertained himself by counting the telephone poles as they whipped by. Suddenly reminded that there was in fact someone else in the car with him, he shifted just enough to better see his best friend and partner in crime, Adam Copeland.

"Why's that?"

Adam refrained from answering at first, opting instead to drum his fingers along the steering wheel in a manner that was clearly evident he was trying to keep from hitting something. His brow was furrowed slightly and the car was slowly but steadily increasing in speed, both of which made Jay quite uneasy.

"Because it's like I'm selling myself one piece at a time."

So that was what it was all about. Being that they had been literally living out of Jay's ancient but trusty Chevy for the past several weeks, sometimes sacrifices had to be made. Personal belongings were constantly having to be sold or bartered for simple necessities. Since both of them were stubborn by nature and wanted desperately to prove their independence, they wouldn't even consider help from their parents, even despite Adam's mother's eagerness to send what money she could. The result often meant empty stomachs and sore bodies due to sleeping in impossible positions in the car. Laundromats were out of the question, usually forcing them to wash their clothes in the bathrooms of the arenas.

And, most recently, they had been forced to sell half their CD collection to pay for gas. Adam was, to put it lightly, not taking the situation easily.

"Y'know, we could prob'ly make more money if we really *were* whores," he went on, taking an exit off the highway and pulling into a stop-and-go gas station. In an attempt to calm him a little, Jay pulled out his wallet, half expecting to see moths flying out of it. Instead, he found a picture of his girlfriend - ex as of last week - and seven dollars plus some loose change. That would be just enough for three or four gallons of gas and maybe a small bag of chips.

The hobo life was sorely overrated.

He left Adam to the task of pumping gas while he headed inside. Three minutes later he emerged, only to see his friend across the street at a payphone, undoubtedly talking to his mom. As he always did, he would keep the truth from her and put in its place stories of how he and Jay would be going out to see the town that night and other things normal people did while in their early twenties. Never mind the fact Adam more than likely had absolutely no idea what town they were even in.

Jay frowned and took a loud sip from the cherry Slurpie he'd given in to buying. He could admire Adam's determination, but sometimes he wondered if maybe it didn't hurt him just as much as it helped. Adam would no doubt leave out the fact that he seemed to be developing a chronic back condition because of their cramped sleeping conditions, nor would he mention that he'd given up lunch money to pay for the long distance phone call home.

Another couple minutes passed before Adam came back to the car, obviously still upset but in a somewhat better mood. Jay offered a sip of his Slurpie but Adam waved it away.

"What'd Mom have to say?" Jay asked for conversation's sake. It no longer even seemed remotely weird for him to say such a thing, since he had been an unofficial member of the family since he was ten.

"Nothing much, just wanted to know how we were, if we needed money, if we were dads yet . . . y'know. The norm."

Jay grinned to himself behind the cup. He only wished that had been option. Between sleeping and picking out personal belongings that could be hocked for a meal, there wasn't much by way of physical recreation. Of course, that might very well change since all of Jay's faithfulness had been for naught. There had been one or two odd instances when Adam gave into a willing and pretty girl at a bar, but given his penchant for choosing sleep over sex, those times were rarities.

Not having anything better to do, Jay went back to counting the passing telephone poles. Try as he might to keep his thoughts from going back to Rachel, they went anyway. A few days earlier while sorting through the stack of mail his mother forwarded to him, he came across a letter from Rachel claiming she couldn't handle his schedule. She failed to tell him that she was already seeing someone else.

Schedule. Right. Jay snorted into the Slurpie. She didn't know what it was like to go days on end without eating or sleeping, or seeing your childhood dream die a little every time you had to turn the backseat into a bed. Oh well. She'd be sorry when he made it to the big time.

That was, of course, assuming Adam's driving didn't kill him first.



******

"I'm homesick."

"Me, too."

"Wanna go home?"

"Nah."

"'kay."

Such was the way most post-match conversations went.

Jay and Adam both sat on the hood of the Chevy passing a half-empty beer bottle back and forth, as one was as much as they could afford at the moment. Their match finished, the show ended, and the crowd gone, they decided to unwind in the easiest and cheapest way possible. So, as was common between them, they split a beer and talked about anything that happened to come to mind. As it turned out, Jay was just letting it sink in that he'd actually been dumped, and Adam was babbling about wanting to go back home and sleep. They both knew neither was really listening to the other, but it was still comforting to have an ear to unload on.

"Hey, look," Adam started, pointing up directly overhead. "The big dipper."

Jay laughed softly and snatched the bottle away. "There's no such thing, man."

"Yeah huh! It's right there!"

Jay shook his head. "Nope, sorry. The big dipper isn't a constellation."

"Then what is it, O Genius of the Stars?"

"An asterism." He glanced casually to his left to see Adam staring blankly at him. "A group of stars that don't really make anything."

Adam frowned while taking the bottle back to finish it off. "So . . . you mean the big dipper isn't really anything at all?"

"Yup. Well, it's part of Ursa Major, if it makes you feel better."

"Which is . . ."

"The great bear."

Adam tilted his head back and squinted. "I don't see it."

"It doesn't really look like a bear, so don't feel too bad."

Adam shook his head in amusement. "You're the only guy I know who randomly bursts into conversations about stars."

Jay grinned and folded his hands over his stomach. "You think that's cool, you should hear me burp the alphabet."

"What is it with you and stars anyway? I mean, they're just . . .stars. Is there really any real life benefit to minoring in astronomy?"

"Not unless you plan on being a teacher, no. It just interests me - even if you *did* break my telescope."

Adam flushed a dull crimson. "It was an accident! And that was ten years ago! Get over it already."

"Accident my ass. You powerbombed me on top of it."

"Oh yeah, that's it. I'm on a quest to destroy your pseudo-career as an astronomer. Right."

"The rest of the world's out to get me, so why not?" He winced, realizing instantly that his bitterness had seeped through much stronger than he'd intended, but thankfully Adam kept quiet on the matter. To change the subject slightly, Jay went on. "Theoretically, we can see into the past."

"Oh, God, here we go with the psychic friends network."

"No, seriously. The stars you're seeing right now are how they looked years and years ago."

Adam's brow furrowed in thought. "So you think time travel's possible?"

Jay fell silent for a moment, then shrugged. "To an extent, yeah. If you mean something like out of an H. G. Wells book, no. But I do think you can find out things about the past just in the sky."

"You're a freak."

"But that's why you love me, right?"

Adam laughed, but was not given a chance to shoot off a sarcastic response before Jay slid off the hood and then began rummaging through the backseat. When he climbed back up into his spot, he held a pair of binoculars.

"Oh, God, you're such a dork," Adam laughed, rolling his eyes for emphasis. His only indiction he was heard at all was Jay flipping him off.

"It's a great night, just kinda cloudy but still really clear," Jay mumbled to himself. "Here. I wanna show you something."

"Unless it's E.T., I don't care."

"Wanna see another galaxy?"

Adam turned skeptical eyes to his friend. "Huh?"

Jay handed the binoculars over. "You could see it better if I still had my telescope," he ribbed, faking a sniffle, "but it's clear enough for these to work."

"Uh huh."

"Fine the north star." When Adam didn't move, Jay coughed. "Last one in the little dipper's handle."

"Help the dumb blond out here, wouldja?"

Jay sighed and placed a hand over Adam's, choking down the various emotions the touch brought to mind long enough to guide his line of vision. "There. Now go a little diagonal and up. See that really bright thing?"

". . . yeah."

"That's Andromeda."

"Really?"

"Yeah. Astronomy's one of the few classes I actually paid attention in."

After a while, Adam lowered the binoculars and rubbed the bridge of his nose. "Jay?"

"Hmm?"

"With all this stuff everywhere and so much else out there . . . well . . . do you think it's logical for there to be a God?"

"No," Jay replied without hesitation, "but I think there is one."

"Why?"

"Why not?"

Adam huffed and blew a long strand of hair from his eyes. "I asked you first."

"Fine. I was raised that way. Besides . . . it helps me sleep at night thinking I'm not just gonna be worm food when I die."

"I could have you cremated if you want. Use you as cat litter or something." All Adam received in return was a heated glare. "But that's a new one, y'know . . . a religious astronomer. Isn't that some kind of oxymoron or something?"

"I'm just full of surprises," Jay admitted dryly, never taking his eyes from the sky for fear he might reveal some of those surprises. The mysteries of the universe were easier for him to grasp and understand than his own complexities.

"You know," Adam started to break the silence, "I am absolutely crushed. I never knew the big dipper wasn't a real constellation."

"Hate to sound too harsh, but there's no Santa Clause, either."

"Prick."

Jay allowed himself a private little smile; he knew there was a reason he loved Adam.