Warmth - PG Rating – Clutch/Jazz
"I can't believe we're stuck up here," Clutch groused, glaring at nothing, and somewhere to his left, Jazz silently nodded.
It had been about five minutes, but already the two were shivering fiercely, despite the thin rays of sunlight squeezed through the wire mesh above them – the sewer was always cold, but more so in winter. Jazz tried to cover her midriff – the only part of her not covered by clothing – with her arms, but it didn't seem to help any.
A large group of the GGs – at least seven, had gone down into the sewers that morning with plans to tag the whole place up and take it from Poison Jam; if they could find the fish-faced muscle-heads, they might just tag them a few times, too. They'd split into small groups to tag the ghetto, with Clutch and Jazz doing the upper end of the sewers.
Too bad Poison Jam had been lurking in the pipes.
Too bad they had been outnumbered three to one.
Too bad they were now trapped in the vertical water drainage pipe by Kibogaoka Hill, trapped in what seemed like a pocket of freezing air and hoping the monsoon season didn't live up to its name anytime soon.
"I told you we should hide from them."
Very faintly, over a hundred feet below, he could hear Poison Jam's indignant yells echoing throughout the sewer – disgusting threats of what would happen when they were caught, screams of 'where the hell are you?!' (like they were gonna just jump down the pipe and say 'here we are!') – things like that. The rest were just wordless screams of anger that really didn't bother him. Poison Jam were all talk.
Jazz had shut up now, and the only sounds he could hear from her were her teeth chattering and her shifting about, trying to get comfortable. He was having problems getting comfortable himself; they were sitting on a shelf of wire mesh and he could feel every line of metal digging into him.
"You wouldn't be so damned cold if you actually wore clothes that covered you up," he sniped, feeling the need for something to do, even if it was just bitching at Jazz.
"I wear a scarf, isn't that enough?"
"You're still cold, aren't you?"
He could feel Jazz's indignant eyes on the side of his head, but he resolutely ignored her; they sat in silence for a bit. Jazz was making an effort to sit still and Clutch was staring at the bottom of the pipe and straining his ears for Poison Jam activity. Nothing. They were either staking out the pipe – unlikely, they weren't patient enough – or they'd gone to hunt the rest of the GGs down. He didn't think he wanted to take the chance.
Jazz sneezed, and he mentally rolled his eyes. There's being cold, he thought, and there's being melodramatic.
Suddenly, without thinking about it, he pulled at his T-Shirt, yanking it off and throwing it to the 'ground' beside him. Jazz stared.
"If you're stripping off to share body heat, I swear to God I'd rather face Poison Jam…"
"Aw, shaddup," he grumbled, but it was muffled through his other top, which he was pulling over his head. He threw it at Jazz – he saw her catch it between finger and thumb as though it was going to bite her before the world disappeared as he put his T-Shirt back on.
"Huh?"
"You sound like Yoyo when you do that," he couldn't resist putting in, before explaining, "You put that on. I'd rather put up with the cold than your complaining."
"Uhh…" Jazz seemed unsure of what to say, so she settled for giving him an unsure grin and a quiet, "Thanks."
The skin of his now bare arms started to come up in goosebumps, but he actually felt kinda warm inside.
"No problem."
He got down onto his stomach to look over the edge of the shelf, at the bottom of the pipe far below. He couldn't help grabbing onto the mesh with slightly damp palms, almost afraid he was going to fall.
"Someone…" Jazz gave a shaky laugh from behind him.
"Someone stop my hands from shaking."
Clutch twisted his head around to look over his shoulder – Jazz was struggling to get his top around the right way to put it on. Her hands were shaking too much. For a moment, he could help giving a bark of laughter, but as Jazz glared at him venomously, he stopped sheepishly.
He got up slowly, vertigo still bothering him slightly and walked over to her – one good thing about the wire mesh was he couldn't skate, only walk shakily.
"C'mere," he murmured, kneeling beside her. The two of them, working together, didn't take long to pull the top over Jazz's head, and when they were done, she wrapped her arms around herself and smiled gratefully.
For a few seconds, Clutch didn't want to move from where he was - knelt beside her, his arm lightly resting on her knee – despite all of her complaining to the contrary, she was warm, a kind of warmth that made him never want to move away from her…
Oh, Jeez, listen to me… He rolled his eyes at himself and went to back away – his plan was now to sit against the wall and keep his hands to himself for the rest of their time up there.
"Uhh… Clutch?" Jazz almost whispered, "You know what I said about body heat… Do you think you could…" She trailed off and blushed, but he understood her meaning just fine.
Chest constricting nervously, he sat against the side of the pipe, legs splayed, and let Jazz huddle up against him. She was shivering, kinda like a frightened mouse when you picked it up, and her breath was warm against his arm.
He leaned back and closed his eyes. He probably shouldn't, but he kinda didn't want the GGs to find them for a while now.
Saturday Night at the Video Store - PG - Gen.
The video store was pretty quiet for a Saturday night, making it safe for a small group of GGs to pick out a DVD to watch. It was way too cold to go out tagging, so they'd bundled up and skated to the local BlockBusters instead.
"Ha ha! Yes!" Yoyo had found the porn section, and was now dragging a disapproving Beat over ("If you drool on me, I'll bloody kill you.") to provide a boost – he wasn't tall enough to reach the top shelves.
"If he thinks we're getting…," Gum, looking rather unusual in Jazz's scarf over her summer dress, floundered for an example, "'Sailor Hentai' or 'Erotic Raider', or…"
"I get the point," Corn interjected, holding up a hand to stop her before she got too into it.
Gum giggled, "Right. Or anything like that to watch tonight, he's got another think coming, I swear."
"Mm." Corn was barely interested – he was too preoccupied thinking about how much this little excursion was going to cost. There were six of them there, and if each picked out a video… Oh, Christ. He was definitely pawning off the DVD player tomorrow.
"Hey, the Blair Lesbian Project!" This utterly bemusing exclamation was followed by an almighty crash, followed by the sounds of Yoyo howling and Beat swearing loudly. The clerk winced and scowled, but was too afraid of them to intervene.
"Get this damned porno off my head, you little…" Yoyo snatched at the little box before Beat could make any horrible threats and added it to the rapidly growing stack smuggled into his hoodie.
"Want some popcorn?" Boogie called over; Rhyth, who had been perusing the romantic comedy section ("Awww, how cute! I have to get this one!") squealed and skated over, leaving two deep grooves in the carpet.
"Ooh, are they giving out free samples?"
"No, they're selling bags of it." Boogie pointed at the display stand, which was giving off the faint scent of butter. Corn rolled his eyes. More expense.
"Well, can we get some?"
"Don't ask me!"
It took about twenty minutes for five of them to pick what they wanted, and Corn was left carrying a stack of bright yellow boxes to a very nervous clerk at the end of it. Gum, noticing the look on his face at the price, nudged at him with a sharp elbow.
"Maybe we could sell Yoyo to the white slave trade."
Corn growled, watching Yoyo still trying to reach the porn shelves.
"They'd give him back, knowing our luck."
