Lord, please save and help my soul for writing this.
Jake Paul x Mr Bean.
Jake was seated in a run-down diner, at the very back, anxiously waiting for his boyfriend.. or booty-buddy. Today was the day they were finally going to 69 in a parking lot.. Jake had wanted to do it in his father's car or his grandfather's study but Mr Bean decided that doing so could threaten their exposure and Mr Bean couldn't, could not risk his career and reputation as the best and greatest Drug Lord. The thing was, you see, that Jake's parents had hired Mr Bean to teach Jake the ways of the family business and in doing so, they paved the way for the biggest scandal in the history of the Bean-Paul, or Paul-Bean relationship.
Before, the only thing shared intimately between the Beans and the Pauls had been mutual respect.. and now well, now they, (Logan and Jake), no Mr Bean and Jake, they now shared a closer bond.. a more 'profound bond', if you will.
Whilst lost in his thoughts, Jake failed to notice the slight breeze coming his way as the door was brashly flung open by a newcomer to the small cafe-dimer.
"Jake," a brisk, deep voice said.
and Jake looked up as he heard his name being called.. it was his boyfriend, his lover, his mentor, his everything.
side-note: the word, or term 'lover', I do not like it.
He scrambled and fidgeted with his hands before clearing his throat and offering Bean, or Mr Bean a seat, which was a useless action as he knew and they both knew that he would take/deposit himself in one anyway. Regardless.
"Jake.." Bean began.
Jake sighed.
"I know," he said, resigned.
Just then, he heard another party, or person enter the diner. And to his surprise, it was his brother, Logan. With some of his LoGang in tow, filming him with around twenty-three hundred-thousand cameras. Or cam-corders, who could really be sure These Days.
Logan rushed over to Jake.
and Jake's table.
While his LoGang kept relentlessly filiming him, whilst keeping a safe enough distance away.
"Jake.." he too, began.
"Logann," Jake said, breathlessly, stretching the ending/end, 'n'.
"I have made.." Logan paused, seemingly for dramatic effect, as Mr Bean looked aghast, with an expression of pure hatred and scorn written across his face.
"..a severe and continuous lapse in my judgement," Logan finished.
GASP
Gasps were heard throughout, gasps could be heard everywhere.
Anywhere, wherever you were, you heard a gasp, even the King and Princess of China dropped their tea pots when they heard the gasps.
Jake turned around, in a futile attempt to leave, by somehow merging with the walls.
"No, wait!" Logan called, desperately.
"Let me explain?" HE pleaded. He begged, sourly, once more, twice and thrice before Jake finally agreed.
"I.. knew what would happen if I let mother and father.."
"..mom and dad," he rectified at the odd looks he received from people everywhere in the cafe.
"let you work with and be mentored by Bean."
"But I let them do it anyway, because.. because I was too much of a coward to stand up for you then, Jakey.. but no more. I shall be the better brother and make it up to you. By helping you two get married." By the time Logan had finished the statement and explanation, Jake's eyes were filled or full with tears as he got up to hug his brother tightly.
"OH, thank you, Logan!" Jake cried into Logan's shoulder and Logan softly replied with,
"It's every day bro."
Every day.
And then the song began playing in the background as the camera slowly backed away.And zoomed away from the scene, to/cutting to two people seducing each other outside a Waitrose.
Two Waitrose employees sat watching them from the store windows, but they couldn't care less. As far as they were concerned, it was free entertainment and by default, free real estate.
From within the building or store, muffled mutters and whispers of disgust could be heard before Glenn Quagmire yelled "ALRIGHT, GIGGIDY", shortly followed by a "SHAG 'EM THEN" from the great William Lenney.
The end.
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odd oneshots (REQUESTS ARE OPEN) and very much welcomed
Humoridk, weird oneshots. these aren't serious. just.. pairings from the deepest, darkest corners of the keyboards of the Internet users.