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368 lines
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<title>The Homestuck Epilogues: Meat - Chapter 14</title>
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<div id='s14'></div>
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<div>
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<h1>Chapter 14</h1>
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<div class="o-story_text o_epilogue type-rg type-sm line-caption line-copy pad-x-0 pad-x-lg pad-b-lg">
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<p class="no-indent"><span class="opener type-hs-opener-rg type-hs-opener-sm">J</span>ake yawns
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and knocks on the window to Jane’s office again. For some reason
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Jane has the shades pulled shut all the way around, so he’s been
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hovering here for way too long in his best tie and his best pair of
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short-shorts. There’s a crowd gathered below, gaping at a rare
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in-person appearance of a globally famous butt. The sunset has
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turned the head offices of Crockercorp into a shimmering glass
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monolith—a beacon, if you will, of the future, visible for miles in
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every direction.</p>
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<p>Jane probably likes to think about it that way at least.</p>
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<p>Speaking of Jane, she pops her head out from between two strips
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of silk-lined venetian blind to glower at Jake, who is hovering
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uselessly in the air. <em>Use the front door</em>, she mouths at
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him. But he responds with his specialty: incomprehension.</p>
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<div class="chat type-rg type-hs-small">
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<p class="jake">JAKE: Im sorry... what?</p>
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</div>
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<p class="no-indent">The exasperated hand motions Jane tries next
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work better.</p>
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<div class="chat type-rg type-hs-small">
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<p class="jake">JAKE: Oh! The front door, of course!</p>
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</div>
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<p class="no-indent">Jake flies down to the street so that he can
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take the front entrance. He whistles a quaint little ditty to
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himself while he waits for the elevator to go up to the top floor.
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This time he knocks on the office door, and Jane lets him in.</p>
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<p>Inside the office it’s dark and hazy. The whole place is
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candlelit, and Jane is reclining on her desk, sprawled out like a
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lounge singer on a grand piano. Specifically: a blue lounge singer,
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on a blue piano, just like in one of the hideous velvet paintings
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Jake bought in New Prospit a few years ago. Like all of his
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impulsive purchases, the tacky thing is gathering dust in a pile
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somewhere in one of the hundreds of spare rooms in his mansion,
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which now primarily functions as a very expensive warehouse for his
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atrocious hoarding habits.</p>
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<p>And intimate knowledge of his hoarding habits—particularly the
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type of sultry, cerulean content he is known to hoard—is
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<em>exactly</em> why Jane is wearing a blue dress with a very high
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hem. Jake’s bow tie practically spins at the sight of it. He
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freezes on the spot, an animal in the predatorial headlights of
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this buxom blue businesswoman.</p>
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<div class="chat type-rg type-hs-small">
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<p class="jane">JANE: Come have a glass of scotch with me Jake. We
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have so much to discuss.</p>
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<p class="jake">JAKE: I-indeed.</p>
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</div>
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<p class="no-indent">He crosses the office and shakily accepts the
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offered glass of ludicrously expensive fermented barley grain. He
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raises it to his nose and pretends to sample the scent.</p>
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<div class="chat type-rg type-hs-small">
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<p class="jake">JAKE: Jane i must say that is a very striking
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ensemble.</p>
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<p class="jane">JANE: Oh, you like it? Why don’t you...</p>
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<p class="jane">JANE: Er, come take a closer look?</p>
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</div>
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<p class="no-indent">She’s really bad at this, she thinks. “This”
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being seduction. She’s so bad at it, in fact, that Jake immediately
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recognizes her ruse for what it is. Laughing nervously, he sucks
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the whole glass of scotch into his mouth in one go, ice cubes and
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all. And then, because he can’t actually stand the taste of scotch,
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immediately spits it back out, ice cubes and all, spraying Jane’s
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brand-new sexy dress with quite an ungentlemanly fountain of boozy
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spittle. Jane is lashed both by the scotch in her face and how
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quickly her plan has fallen apart.</p>
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<div class="chat type-rg type-hs-small">
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<p class="jane">JANE: Jake!</p>
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<p class="jake">JAKE: Bejabbers!</p>
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<p class="jane">JANE: Oh no, all over my new dress...</p>
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<p class="jake">JAKE: Jane i am so sorry. Here let me help you
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clean that giggle water off your kettle drums.</p>
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<p class="jane">JANE: No, no, you... you’ve done enough. Goodness,
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you’ve only been here two minutes and already... why did I ever
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think—</p>
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<p class="jake">JAKE: Jane. Please i insist.</p>
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</div>
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<p class="no-indent">She tries to push him away, but Jake considers
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himself to be a gentleman. He helps her to the floor and shrugs off
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his dress coat so he can use it to wipe her down. She is staring at
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the ceiling like she hopes it will split open and suck her into a
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supermassive black hole so she doesn’t have to deal with anything
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that is going on right now. Some of Jake’s scotchy slobber is on
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her glasses, which is not the place she was planning on having it
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tonight.</p>
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<div class="chat type-rg type-hs-small">
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<p class="jake">JAKE: Is this why you wanted to see me? To show off
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uh... this proper bit of frock?</p>
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<p class="jane">JANE: Oh, no, of course not. I just wanted
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to...</p>
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<p class="jane">JANE: To... talk about the economy.</p>
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<p class="jake">JAKE: By jove the economy! Jane my dear friend
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please tell me all about the economy!</p>
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</div>
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<p class="no-indent">Jake doesn’t care about the economy. But he’s
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an ardent supporter of changing the subject.</p>
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<div class="chat type-rg type-hs-small">
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<p class="jane">JANE: Ah, it’s doing quite well right now
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actually.</p>
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<p class="jake">JAKE: I should hope so!</p>
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<p class="jane">JANE: But it might not continue to do so in the
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future, which you can guess is of great concern to me, being that I
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am a pioneering entrepreneur.</p>
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<p class="jake">JAKE: Well frig, that’s awful and you should do
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everything in your power to adequately explain to me this conundrum
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which i admit i am not up to dick on.</p>
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<p class="jane">JANE: You...</p>
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</div>
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<p class="no-indent">Jane laughs quite sincerely as he ruffles his
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jacket through her hair.</p>
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<div class="chat type-rg type-hs-small">
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<p class="jane">JANE: Oh, Jake, you really have no idea what’s
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going on, do you?</p>
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<p class="jake">JAKE: Wait is this...</p>
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<p class="jake">JAKE: Is this about the election muckup? Because
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i—</p>
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</div>
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<p class="no-indent">Jane puts a finger to Jake’s lip and shushes
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him. It’s a very smooth move. A total recovery. He shushes, and she
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directs him to one of the couches that line her office. They
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stumble there, his jacket and hands still wrapped around her
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shoulders.</p>
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<div class="chat type-rg type-hs-small">
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<p class="jane">JANE: I’m sure you’ve had an earful about the
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election already.</p>
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<p class="jane">JANE: I apologize. You must understand that my mind
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is quite occupied by it right now.</p>
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<p class="jane">JANE: But I’ve been doing an awful lot of thinking
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as of late.</p>
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<p class="jake">JAKE: I see. About what?</p>
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<p class="jane">JANE: About everything, I suppose.</p>
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<p class="jane">JANE: About my life, about all of our lives and the
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trajectory they’ve taken since we helped to create this new
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universe.</p>
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<p class="jane">JANE: You must admit that it’s a lot to grasp, and
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I’m not certain we’ve all taken the time to truly contemplate our
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place in it.</p>
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</div>
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<p class="no-indent">This is not really the kind of conversation
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you initiate if you’re looking to extract a sexual deal out of
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someone. It is, however, the kind of conversation that you might
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have with a childhood friend who has become somewhat emotionally
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estranged from you. Both so busy with their exciting careers and
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misuse of their godhood. Who are they now? The same Jake and Jane
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who passed like particularly dysfunctional ships in the night a
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decade ago? Or is Jane wiser, and Jake kinder? Are they better
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versions of themselves? Jane absently rubs the narrow strap of her
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dress between two fingers, vainly attempting to sort out her
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jumbled thoughts.</p>
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<div class="chat type-rg type-hs-small">
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<p class="jake">JAKE: That’s an earful jane.</p>
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<p class="jane">JANE: I know. It’s a head-full too.</p>
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<p class="jane">JANE: I can’t help but worry...</p>
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<p class="jane">JANE: Haven’t we really just been... drifting these
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last seven years?</p>
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<p class="jane">JANE: Drifting, both in the sense of failing to
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fulfill our personal potentials,</p>
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<p class="jane">JANE: And in the sense of... well, drifting
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apart?</p>
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</div>
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<p class="no-indent">Jane pulls a leg up beneath her, which slides
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her bare knee between Jake’s. The couch dips a bit under their
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weight.</p>
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<div class="chat type-rg type-hs-small">
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<p class="jake">JAKE: I must admit i never thought of it that
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way.</p>
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<p class="jane">JANE: I know.</p>
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<p class="jane">JANE: It’s just that... we’re both so busy all the
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time. The years go by so fast. And...</p>
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<p class="jane">JANE: I miss you.</p>
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</div>
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<p class="no-indent">Jake blinks, his eyes wet and glossy beneath
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his spectacles.</p>
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<div class="chat type-rg type-hs-small">
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<p class="jake">JAKE: Ah. Well... I suppose that i miss you too
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jane.</p>
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</div>
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<p class="no-indent">The moment goes from calculated to genuine in
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an instant. Jake drops his coat and glides his hands down her bare
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arms so that he can... hold her? Yeah, that’s definitely what he’s
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doing. Holding her, and not too gently either.</p>
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<p>Jane really is quite pretty, with the candlelight glittering
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across her spectacles, her hair damp, and her front teeth poking
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out from beneath her lip. She’s so pretty that Jake can’t stop
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himself from sliding a hand up to her neck and using his thumb to
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tip her face back so that they’re staring right at each other in
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the low light, close enough that Jane can probably smell his
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disgusting scotch breath. She definitely does smell it, because her
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cute nose scrunches up and she laughs again, a very small, private
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noise. A noise just for him.</p>
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<p>So he kisses her. Very well, if he does think so himself. Dirk
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has given him a lot of uninvited but incisive criticism on his
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kissing over the years, so Jake wouldn’t be surprised if he was
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considered the best kisser on the entire planet at this point. Jane
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breathes in, shocked for a moment. Even more shocked when Jake
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hooks a hand around her waist and pushes her down. She makes a
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startled noise into his mouth. Then she throws her arms around his
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neck. It should be awkward, taboo at this point, considering the
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history between them. But it all happens so easily. Jane undoing
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Jake’s bow tie, Jake hooking his thumb under the hem of her dress
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and hiking it up another inch it really cannot spare for decency’s
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sake.</p>
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<p>There is nothing awkward about this moment, Jake thinks. Two old
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friends, hot as the blazes, giving in to passion? Who could accuse
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them of impropriety? Nobody worth their salt, in his book. It all
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makes perfect sense. The inevitable consummation of a whirlwind
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romance fit for the big screen.</p>
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<p>Really, the only surprise is how long it took to happen. Jane is
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a beautiful lady, that’s for sure. She always has been, but she’s
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only grown more ravishing as she’s come into the full blossom of
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her womanhood. Smooth, silky skin... thick, dark lashes... full,
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feminine lips... not to mention curves like the dickens. It’s all
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certainly conducive to activities of close phonological proximity
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to the phrase.</p>
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<p>Jane’s baby-soft palm, unmarred by the calluses of deft
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swordsmanship, slides down Jake’s cheek and dips under the collar
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of his shirt. She caresses his clavicle and then tenderly trails
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her fingers up the side of his neck, steadying herself as she
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deepens their passionate kiss. Jane’s touch is nothing like Dirk’s.
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Dirk has palms so rough that they sting, especially on skin that’s
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thin and supple. Like the column of the throat, right over the
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jugular.</p>
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<p>He pulls away from Jane’s lips and lifts her spectacles off her
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nose. It’s a motion that still feels practiced and familiar,
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despite how long ago he’d last had the precious chance. Those rare,
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intimate moments that Jake was allowed to slip off Dirk’s shades
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and look upon his face, unobstructed, stand out more clearly in his
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||
mind than almost any other in his life.</p>
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||
<p>Jake swallows. He can’t stop thinking about how Dirk kissed him
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last time they “didn’t hook up.” Which is a thing, of course, that
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“didn’t happen,” so how can Jake possibly be thinking about it?</p>
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<p>Is it just some sort of Pavlovian response that’s making his
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heart race like this? He does his best to push the untimely
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thoughts away, but his fingers tremble as he sets Jane’s glasses
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aside.</p>
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<p>Jane gazes back at him, cheeks flushed with desire, eyes dark
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and alluringly coy. All her features are round and soft. Welcoming,
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soothing. The kind of face that makes you feel like you’ve come
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||
home. Dirk is the exact opposite. Long nose, thick eyebrows,
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||
pointed features. A man who seems built down to the very essence of
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his soul to be sharp, hard to approach, harder still to touch. But
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||
when looked at from the right angle, he’s anime levels of handsome.
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Breathtakingly, choir-of-angels singingly, anime-handsome—the sort
|
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of man you can’t keep your hands off of, no matter how jagged his
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edges. But his hair is so much softer than it looks. His heart too.
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When a heart like that opens up to you, it opens up the whole world
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as well. A world of increased appreciation for combat, philosophy,
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||
life, love...</p>
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<div class="chat type-rg type-hs-small">
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<p class="jake">JAKE: Yelp!!!</p>
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</div>
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<p class="no-indent">Jake yelps and rolls off the couch in such a
|
||
panic that he almost takes Jane with him. She flies to her feet,
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||
startled, breathing fast, and readjusts her disheveled clothes.</p>
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||
<div class="chat type-rg type-hs-small">
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||
<p class="jane">JANE: Jake?</p>
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||
<p class="jane">JANE: Are you... quite okay?</p>
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||
<p class="jake">JAKE: I</p>
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||
<p class="jake">JAKE: I</p>
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||
<p class="jake">JAKE: Ihavetogorightnowsorry.</p>
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||
</div>
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<p class="no-indent">Jake’s already hovering two feet off the
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||
ground before Jane can say another word. He doubles back to the end
|
||
of the office and grabs the bottle of near-untouched scotch before
|
||
kicking open the latch to one of Jane’s giant windows and letting
|
||
himself out.</p>
|
||
<p>He’s got a lot of things to think about, apparently.</p>
|
||
<div class="chat type-rg type-hs-small">
|
||
<p class="jane">JANE: What the...</p>
|
||
<p class="jane">JANE: Everliving <em>fuck!</em></p>
|
||
</div>
|
||
<p class="no-indent">Jane stands alone in her office, confused,
|
||
horny, and kind of pissed. She slowly slips the strap of her dress
|
||
back over her shoulder. Then she closes the window, sits in her CEO
|
||
chair and speed-dials the number for her one-man Kitchen
|
||
Cabinet.</p>
|
||
<div class="chat type-rg type-hs-small">
|
||
<p class="dirk">DIRK: Yo, what up?</p>
|
||
<p class="jane">JANE: Not Jake, apparently.</p>
|
||
<p class="dirk">DIRK: Wow. Going straight for the double entendre,
|
||
huh?</p>
|
||
<p class="dirk">DIRK: How much of that scotch did you have?</p>
|
||
<p class="jane">JANE: I think a few drops made it into my mouth,
|
||
when Jake spewed his beverage directly onto my face.</p>
|
||
<p class="dirk">DIRK: Things went that badly, huh?</p>
|
||
<p class="jane">JANE: Augh!</p>
|
||
<p class="jane">JANE: This is so embarrassing.</p>
|
||
<p class="jane">JANE: You know, I wouldn’t have approached it this
|
||
way if I wasn’t absolutely certain its margin for error was
|
||
virtually nonexistent.</p>
|
||
<p class="jane">JANE: I mean, it’s Jake.</p>
|
||
<p class="dirk">DIRK: Were you nice to him?</p>
|
||
<p class="jane">JANE: Well, I...</p>
|
||
<p class="dirk">DIRK: I told you, you can’t be nice to Jake.</p>
|
||
<p class="jane">JANE: ...</p>
|
||
<p class="dirk">DIRK: Listen, Jane, I don’t really have time to jam
|
||
right now.</p>
|
||
<p class="dirk">DIRK: Why don’t you leave Jake to me?</p>
|
||
</div>
|
||
<p class="no-indent">Jane squeezes her eyes shut and, very softly
|
||
and quietly, bumps her head against the edge of her desk.</p>
|
||
<div class="chat type-rg type-hs-small">
|
||
<p class="jane">JANE: Why do I feel as if we’ve had this exact
|
||
conversation, almost word for word, before?</p>
|
||
<p class="dirk">DIRK: Because we have. Many times.</p>
|
||
<p class="jane">JANE: Well, what do we do now? I’m afraid I’ve gone
|
||
and made things worse.</p>
|
||
<p class="dirk">DIRK: Like I said, let me work on it. I know what
|
||
I’m doing.</p>
|
||
<p class="jane">JANE: You always say that.</p>
|
||
<p class="dirk">DIRK: I haven’t been wrong yet.</p>
|
||
</div>
|
||
<p class="no-indent">Jane, head still planted firmly on desk,
|
||
laughs at that. There’s a sardonic twist in Dirk’s voice that
|
||
intentionally recalls every time he’s ever fucked up. But it
|
||
satisfies Jane nevertheless. She knows that he won’t fail her.</p>
|
||
<div class="chat type-rg type-hs-small">
|
||
<p class="jane">JANE: Fine. Please call me later so that we may
|
||
strategize.</p>
|
||
<p class="jane">JANE: And also because I could use some emotional
|
||
support after what just happened.</p>
|
||
<p class="dirk">DIRK: I might be caught up for a while.</p>
|
||
<p class="jane">JANE: Why is that?</p>
|
||
<p class="dirk">DIRK: Can’t explain right now. Catch you on the
|
||
flipside, Jane.</p>
|
||
<p class="jane">JANE: Wait—</p>
|
||
</div>
|
||
<p class="no-indent">Dirk doesn’t wait. There’s a shadow cast in
|
||
his doorway that is much more important than the election. Rose is
|
||
braced against the doorframe, one hand on her purse and the other
|
||
on her waist. She has her head tipped just so, her pale hair
|
||
falling across in her face at an angle that bisects her perfectly
|
||
neutral expression. Dirk sets down his phone and acknowledges her
|
||
with a nod.</p>
|
||
<div class="chat type-rg type-hs-small">
|
||
<p class="rose">ROSE: Well,</p>
|
||
<p class="rose">ROSE: Go on.</p>
|
||
</div>
|
||
</div>
|
||
</div>
|
||
</body>
|
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</html> |