I Got My Rock Moves
Two universes. Two guys. One motive. One love. Any questions? Homestar/SpongeBob crossover, 50 sentence drabbles. The crackest of crack pairings.
Originally created for LiveJournal's 50sentence community. Actually, this has also been posted over there, so technically I'm cheating, but hey, free crack is good crack, right?
Disclaimer: Don't own SpongeBob or Homestar. Actually, to be honest I don't own anyone. And that's probably a good thing.
How they'd found each other they weren't too sure, especially since they came from two completely different universes; still, at least they were in the same place now, in that they could find some comfort.
Despite enabling his aquatic sex partner to breathe in an air-filled world, a glass water helmet did have its limitations, leastwise preventing most of the kisses that Strong Bad desperately craved.
The whole romance thing just plain baffled everybody – since the crap when did Free Country USA's resident bad guy have a softer side?
The two of them were used to pain, what with the amount they'd put up with prior to each other – great for tolerance, not so good for their sadomasochist sides.
When Squilliam's introduction to the weekly a-peeling of potatoes acquired a sexual tinge, The Cheat knew it was time to scarper.
Squilliam liked the rain and its soothing wet textures; it meant that A) he could actually breathe without a goldfish bowl lodged on his head and B) the two of them could finally make out at the back of Bubs' Concession Stand.
To be honest, neither of them could see what all the fuss was about chocolate, seeing as the tastiest snack they'd ever eaten was each other.
"Um, Strong Bad, remind me to redefine your definition of 'an awesome good time' later," muttered Squilliam, staring vacantly at the ages-old pinball machine.
It is perhaps ironic that when Coach Z talked nasty to Strong Bad it was sexual harassment, whereas when Squilliam talked the same nasty to the same wrestleman it was $3.99 a minute.
It wasn't that one didn't like the other's taste in music; it's just that several hours of listening to nothing but Limozeen can only test a guy's patience so much.
A rose by any other name would smell as sweet…unless they were grown by Strong Bad and claimed to "pack quite a punch", as Squilliam found out the hard way.
Strong-Bad-style-sensual was using a feather; Squilliam-style-sensual was using the whole chicken.
The rules were simple in the relationship: you touch the Turbografx games, you die.
"Dammit, Squilliam, I've told you this a thousand times: I will not have sex with you just for the hell of it," he lied.
Squilliam was about double his boyfriend's size, but that didn't stop him from stooping down and trying to subtly cop a feel when he thought he wasn't looking.
Strong Bad prided himself on having no weaknesses to speak of…except perhaps his boyfriend.
Despite everything, both of them still maintained the philosophy that it wasn't OK to cry in front of each other.
Naturally raised on instant service and ADHD-riddled media, it took a while for Squilliam to get used to the fact that he actually needed to slow down in foreplay in order to get the best effect.
The cephalopod, quite frankly, didn't understand the need for the cliché as part of his cameo in the new Dangeresque movie, especially since he didn't even wear a skirt for the wind to lift.
The astounding freedom of choice of places in which to have sex extended far beyond the classic "your place or mine"; in fact, it was more like "your place, mine, Homestar's, Bubs's, Strong Badia, The Field, or just right here right now".
Squilliam did miss his previous life in Bikini Bottom sometimes (after all, that was the place he grew up); then he was treated to another wise-crack or Teen Girl Squad comic from his boyfriend and the nostalgia disappeared for another day.
Every time he caught the two of them together, even if they were just whiling away the hours, another little piece of Homestar's heart broke.
"Hey Stro Bro, how do you give a handjob with boxing gloves on anyway?"
The tako claimed the wrestleman's mouth tasted of p-nades and cold ones, which was pretty standard fare; the confusion came in the wrestleman claiming the tako's mouth tasted not of calamari as would be expected, but of a taste he could only call Zombie Pikachu.
"NO no no no no – suddenly really creepy boyfriend OUT of my wrestling mask!!"
Everyone else just wished that one of them would propose life-long commitment right now and get it over with.
It was thankful that Squilliam managed to point out in time that if they became 'blood brothers', technically it would be incest.
"Could someone find me a bucket so that I can get rid of all this mushy romantic nausea?" groaned Strong Bad, boxing gloves wrapped protectively around his stomach.
How did the muscleman manage to pack that many wrong notes into a 15-second romantic serenade anyway?
At least Strong Bad had enough experience in suffering the taking of Homestar's titular shape to warn Squilliam away from making the same mistake.
He came from the SpongeBob universe, but it was only when in Free Country USA lying in Strong Bad's bed that Squilliam truly felt he was home.
"Look, I really don't wanna talk about that night, now can we drop the subject please?"
Contrary to popular belief, the gruff wrestleman could get scared sometimes, especially when the safety and wellbeing of his boyfriend was brought into it…in a sentimental way, he feared the thought of losing him.
They both had a thunder-like temper when angered; it was what they loved the most about each other.
It takes a special person to create a bond with someone as self-focused as Strong Bad; it takes a miracle for him to willingly create a bond back – in this respect, his boyfriend was the luckiest of all of them.
"No, you will NOT sell two of my tentacles on the black market."
Squilliam learned that day that calling one of Strong Bad's latest technological investments "out of date" could very well be the last thing you ever do.
Just because they were obviously going out didn't mean that either of them could get away with giving each other a crummy homemade ornament 'because they felt like it'.
Despite his sour reputation, Strong Bad smiles a lot more than you think he does, especially when thinking of all the awesome things he'll be doing to his lover that night.
"Do you think we should tell Marzipan that we're not making that kind of music?"
"Not now, DeterminedX2," bandazgeek scolded her AIM buddy, "I have to get these Squilliam/Strong Bad 1sentence drabbles completed by 9 o'clock…oh hell, never mind."
Lying back, staring at the clouds, trying to guess whether one was a pig or a duck…call it out of character if you like, but they wouldn't have it any other way.
The sky turned dark, the heavens opened and another rare opportunity for hot kisses arose.
Strong Bad liked to think that he wasn't exaggerating when he said that his boyfriend far surpassed any episode of the Limozeen cartoon show.
"OK, fine, you're right, Strong Bad, Hell is Massachusetts, now please get me out of these Post-it notes."
Then again, as you all know, sometimes it isn't a good idea to steal your boyfriend's sunscreen and replace it with batter oil.
Squilliam had somewhat of a fixation on the way his lover's eyes shone in the moonlight; said lover dubbed it as either mere interest or lycanthropy (the latter of which he seriously doubted…didn't he?)
Call them picky if you like, but somehow recreating the kissing scene of 'From Here To Eternity' in the relatively tiny waves of the swimming pool just wasn't the same…
What was weird about it is that neither of them had any hair to speak of; unless you count the unibrow, which was purely to drive Stro Bro's libido nuts anyway.
All in all, it was a "prooty hot" relationship, if you take "prooty hot" to mean "obvious chemistry and love with the intensity of a star exploding", amongst other things.