The story of a lonesome ol'Jerome

*Gwyn’s POV*

I was starting to think Andy was most definitely real after the food he got at Chipotle. That, or I was secretly throwing out the portions of things he had ‘eaten,’ because there was no way I could have eaten that. Andy got chicken, and it would have made me really sick- I hadn’t eaten meat on purpose in, like, ten years. And I fucking hate salsa on my burritos, was I really spending money on a burrito just to dispose of it because I was insane? Was I that-

“-Hello? Gwyn!” Andy poked me in the ribs, getting my attention, and I grunted. “I’m real. But you know what, fuck it, if you’re going to keep doing that, I’m just going to whip my dick out and start beat-“

“No you fucking don’t! If you’re in my head, I can control you, stop it!” I glanced at him, irritated. “No car sexiness, I’m driving!”

Andy looked both slightly irate and amused. “I’m fucking real and I can do whatever the fuck I want, Doc! Make me stop!” To my horror, he just started undoing his belt.

What?!? “No-no-no! Please, stop! I’m going over 70 miles an hour, Andy!” Oh my god, he just went ahead and pulled his dick right out and started stroking it! There were people driving all around us! They might see!

I tried to just concentrate on driving the perfect few miles over the limit, not to tailgate anyone, stay away from any vehicle taller than mine. I was sweating lightly from nerves, trying not to get excited, not to look at Andy. I hated peripheral vision!

I tried to sound like I meant it. “Stop, please, stop.”

I peeked at him, horribly aroused but not wanting to admit it. Andy was staring at me, full of mischief and merriment. “I will, if you just admit it, Doc.”

I was concentrating on NOT looking directly at Andy, on focusing on the road. “What, you bastard?” I suppressed a giggle.

I could practically feel his smirk wrap around me, goading me. “That… hmmm… I’m real, and you can’t make me stop with just a thought. You can't make me do anything.”

I glanced at Andy again, and I just knew what he really wanted to hear. “How about this instead, Hot-shot: You win! You have had your sexy car moment, and I am most definitely in thrall because of your epic masculine charms, now please stop that, so we don't die! I’m driving, you horrid, sexy thing! You may recall you said you’d be good earlier? Hmm?”

I gathered Andy was relenting, as I heard the sound of a zipper. Still, I’d be meeting everyone with sticky underwear. Great. Not that it wasn't often a bit, uh, damp, around Andy, but seriously, I didn’t need to have gone into overdrive beforehand. Ugh.

“Thanks. And… I know you’re probably real. I mean, I guess. I just find it hard to accept it. I dunno.” I frowned. “Uh, want to just ask some more questions from your list?”

Andy sighed. “Sure, this is the last one in the general section. You collect anything?”

I laughed. “What do I not collect? Are you kidding? I have a problem with accumulation of stuff!”

Andy looked interested. “Like what?”

“Well, I just think things can be so interesting, things that can tell a story, or things that have a history behind them, it all depends. Like, I love books, or graphic novels, like, paper books, but I like to keep them. I love certain kinds of action figures-“

“-Do you?” Andy smiled at me, then said nothing, making me curious.

“Uh, yeah, I have, like, hundreds! I have pretty decent skull and skeleton collection, you might have seen part of it, you mentioned my BDSM and bondage fashion magazine collection. I collect some weirder stuff, like fashion star fillies.” Andy looked at me, not following, but writing it down.

“Fashion star fillies were these plastic horses that were about the size of Breyer horses, but super glam-y, and I loved them as a kid. They were made from, I dunno, the mid-80s through the early-90s, and there are quite a few I still covet, mint in box.” Andy raised that left eyebrow high.

“Don’t be an anus, I’m comfortable in my geekery. I love stuffies too, but everybody knows that about me, so I have so, so many, everybody gives me a stuffie for every birthday and every christmas. You saw the toy hammocks I have?”

Andy nodded but looked a little... off. “You ok?” He just nodded again and motioned for me to go on. “So, anyways, my apartment is overflowing with all these great stuffies, and I don’t know what to do with them all. I don’t have room in my bed to sleep with them all, not all the time, right?” I peered over at Andy, who was scribbling very intently. “You collect anything?”

“Well, I have so much bizarre shit, I mean, both that I collect, and that I’ve been given by fans, I don’t really even know how to respond to that.” He laughed kind of weakly, still sounding a little off, and didn't offer anything else. I was taken aback. I mean, I would have thought, for a question like that, Andy would have so much to say...

I felt like I’d done something wrong. Should I have just let Andy jerk off in my car? I was confused. “I, uh, bet your batman collection could fill my whole apartment.” We both chuckled softly. I reached over and squeezed his leg. I felt his hand on mine, pulling it to his lips to steal a kiss. It was what I needed for reassurance before I yanked it back to steer, with a silly, ridiculously girly giggle.

Notes

QOTD: do you collect anything?

yes, lots of things, though it might be more accurate to say that i have collections of things, as opposed to that i actively add to my collection:

books, graphic novels, music, continuing education credits (hahaha- inside veterinarian joke), skulls, skeletons, action figures, living dead dolls, african masks, fashion star fillies, my little ponies, patches, earrings (for 2g ears, my ears are stretched, i wear special ones for work that hide it)