Brand New/SLR/TBS::Jesse/John, Jesse/Brian::NC-17::Taking Back Sunday Chapter 12
[Title] Taking Back Sunday
[Author] dejectedmadness
[Rating] FINALLY NC-17 for boykissing/touching/sexual contact/boysecks!!![Disclaimer] I am posting fanFICTION. Neither the characters nor the ideas belong to me, just the plot specific to this story. No profit is being made off of this fiction, it is being written solely for my entertainment and for the entertainment of others as warped as I am. Don't sue.
[Band/Pairing] Brand New/Straylight Run, Jesse Lacey/Brian Lane, Jesse Lacey/John Nolan
[Summary] Jesse makes a new friend about whom John is not particularly fond for reasons as yet only speculated upon.
[X-Posted] rockinthebed, slashypunkboys, _brand_new_love, lacey_loves_jno
[Author’s Notes] This isn’t intended to be particularly AU, although it is a high school fic, and it has some anachronistic tendencies.
Note of awesome: Mavericks is where I first saw Viscera’s Recital and Social Code and the last place I ever saw Blue Skies at War. Just the awesomest damn bar in Ottawa. They always have the coolest people playing there. I don’t know if there is somewhere called Mavericks in Long Island, but we can pretend. We can’t pretend they are cooler than Ottawa-Mavericks because there is no such thing… except maybe Ottawa-Zaphod Beeblebrox. Too much coolness. Sorry.
Saturday morning, Jesse opened his eyes too early. It couldn’t have been eight o’clock yet, but that didn’t matter. He hadn’t slept much all night, anyway. Curled up with John in his small single bed, Jesse had lain awake for hours thinking about Brian.
John’s mother had called his mother and asked for Jesse to stay over. Whether Brian’s parents had called his own to tell them what they’d caught the two boys doing, Jesse still didn’t know. Regardless, she’d agreed that he could sleep over at John’s place.
Jesse rubbed his eyes. Just because he hadn’t slept didn’t mean he wasn’t tired. He’d wept, relating the story to John until very late, brooding over what would happen now, whether his parents knew, what they would do if they did, and what he was going to do about Brian. He couldn’t just stop seeing him. He was one of Jesse’s best friends, and what was more, he cared about him! He cared about Brian in a way far different than he’d ever cared for another person before in his life. The pain he felt at thinking he might never get to see the boy again felt like a solid mass in his gut. It was agony that radiated outward, poisoning Jesse’s whole body. Even late the night before, when his stomach was telling him he needed to eat, and John was reiterating the fact verbally in case he hadn’t received his body’s memo, he couldn’t stand the thought of food. It made him nauseous. He hurt everywhere, likely from the tension. Fear and distress made Jesse’s whole body, and every muscle in it, contract and hold in just that way for hours until the cause was gone. His throat hurt from sobbing, and his eyes were red and puffy from the tears, not to mention the enormous crying-headache he had.
Unable to pretend to be resting any longer, Jesse sat up in the bed. He’d slept in his clothes, not having brought pyjamas. He hadn’t really wanted to get undressed the night before, anyway. Brian’s mother had seen him half naked with Brian on top of him. That wasn’t a memory he wanted to dwell on, so he’d avoided taking his clothes off at all costs. Now, though, Jesse relished the thought of a hot shower to wash the grime, and the salt of tears from his body, anticipating how it would soothe his tight muscles.
He dragged himself out of bed quietly so as not to disturb his still-sleeping friend and tiptoed to the bathroom.
When Jesse was clean and feeling a little less distraught, he turned off the streaming water and dressed again, in yesterday’s clothes. John had vanished from his bedroom, and from the smell of pancakes wafting up from the kitchen, it looked as though he had decided to get a head start on the day, as well.
John looked up as Jesse entered the kitchen. “Hey.” Jesse didn’t respond. He just sat down. “How are you feeling?” The look he cast his friend could have flash-frozen a volcano. “That good, huh? Are you hungry?”
“I don’t think I’ll ever eat again,” he mumbled, crossing his arms on the table and burying his face in them.
“Hey, it’ll be alright, okay?” John sat down beside him and touched his arm comfortingly.
“Unless by some miracle my parents don’t know or Brian mysteriously developed two new parents overnight….”
John’s face was sympathetic. “I… I’m sure this is just gonna… blow over. In a couple of days everything will be fine.”
“He told me never to come back, John. I don’t know if there’s a bright side to that.”
John sighed and returned to his sizzling pancakes. “You should try to eat, at least. You love pancakes!”
Jesse frowned. “You know, Brian made me pancakes once.”
John didn’t say anything, but a moment later he set a platter down in front of his friend.
“I’m not hungry,” Jesse tried to say, pushing away his breakfast.
“Jess, please. You have to eat!”
“God, you know,” Jesse burst out just then, and what he had to say didn’t have the first thing to do with breakfast, “it almost wouldn’t be so bad if they hadn’t walked in on us! We were just playing around!” His face bunched up again as he struggled to hold back tears. “Fuck, John! Why can’t this just be okay? Why has it got to be some big struggle for acceptance?”
Spatula still in hand, John sat down beside his friend. Jesse felt no comfort from the hand resting casually on his arm. “I don’t know, Jess.”
“I just want what everyone else wants! I just want someone to hold! I want someone to kiss and touch! I want someone to love me. Is that so wrong? I mean, who the fuck cares whether it’s a girl or a boy or whatever?”
“It’s the most natural thing for a person to want, Jesse.”
“Then why? Why is this a sin against God? And why do they hate me now? Just because we like each other? Just because we’re attracted to each other? Just because we’re both boys? That’s not fair!”
It wasn’t fair, and they both knew it, but although John was there for him, and he understood Jesse’s frustration and anger, he knew that his friend couldn’t help him feel less lost and confused.
A moment of silence passed before John spoke up again, his voice soft, “Hey… why don’t we go see a show tonight? Maybe someone good will be playing at Mavericks.”
“I don’t think I want to go out tonight.” He shook his head.
“Well, we could stay in and rent a movie. We could watch some really horrible comedy or get something scary.”
“John… thanks…” Jesse stood slowly. “I think maybe I want to be alone. I’m gonna go home and see if they called my mom.”
“If you get in trouble, you can come over.”
“Yeah.” Jesse thanked him.
Feeling no better and slightly hungry, Jesse obtained his things from his friend’s room and let himself out.
***
As it turned out, Jesse’s mom had gotten no phone call the previous night from the Lane residence. Jesse’s relief was short lived, though, lasting only until he recalled he was still unwelcome in his boyfriend’s home… or was that ex-boyfriend, now?
Jesse trudged up to his room, putting on his most depressing Smiths compilation and crawling into bed, not to sleep, but to brood for hours.
Despite his intentions, Jesse woke up later, around four in the afternoon with a headache, so hungry he felt nauseous. Regardless of the protestations made by his growling stomach, Jesse couldn’t force himself out of bed. He knew, of course, that the minute he appeared downstairs and began to rummage through the fridge, someone would come and squeal that he was going to spoil his supper. In Jesse’s current mood, he would be able to do nothing but retort something unkind to whichever munchkin had the bad fortune to piss him off today, the most accursed of all days, save only one: the dreaded yesterday. That would have his mother yelling at him about doing unto others and whatever other bullshit she spewed to try to instil good manners in her children, without regard to the fact that Jesse couldn’t stop thinking about how he hadn’t harmed anyone, and yet the one thing he wanted most in the world had been stolen from him. That thought alone was enough to suppress any further complaints from his stomach long enough to wait for dinner.
He was sullen throughout the meal, hoping to avoid questions pertaining to his depressed countenance to no avail. His mother asked him, “Are you feeling well?”, “Are you arguing with John, again?”, “Did you get in trouble at school?”, and Jesse’s personal favourite, “Is it a girl?” After the last, he stood from the table using the excuse that maybe he wasn’t feeling as well as he thought. He scraped what was left of his potatoes and peas into the trash before ascending the stairs to hide in his room, light off, door closed.
He kept the music low to avoid his mother’s scolding that the girls were going to bed later, and because he didn’t want to deal with one of them coming in to exclaim that they were on the phone, couldn’t he turn off that noise and give them some privacy? He hated teenage girls. In fact, Jesse decided, he hated all girls, of all ages. He hated everyone right then, not least of all himself.
He berated himself for hours, listening to Morrissey crooning through his speakers. He should have heard the footsteps. He should have made sure the door was locked. He should have stopped Brian… only he really didn’t think he could have done that at all. It was never really possible to stop Brian when he had his heart set on something, like making Jesse moan into pillows, or playing drums on Jesse’s arms and legs, or writing a killer song to make Mike jealous, or getting John to accept him. Brian was very good at getting what he wanted. No, Jesse certainly couldn’t have dissuaded him from playing professor to show him just what his belly button did to him when it was licked.
Jesse felt tears rush to his eyes again, sitting alone in the dark, curled into the corner of his bed. He’d never missed anyone like he was missing his boyfriend right then.
He wondered what Brian was doing. He hoped his parents hadn’t concocted some terrible punishment of cleaning the eaves trough on the house in the dark without a ladder or something. He didn’t think the Lanes were quite so strict, but then again, he’d never known them to need to punish Brian before, let alone for something like this. He hoped, at least, that Brian was just sitting at his desk doing homework, or listening to music, or laying in bed, like Jesse was, thinking about him.
He knew without a doubt that Brian was missing him as much as Jesse was missing Brian, but that didn’t make it easier to stay away. If Jesse could do anything, he knew that he’d go to Brian’s house and sneak through his window, or coax Brian outside with him, just for the chance to hold him, to convince them both that it didn’t matter what people thought; they would be okay. They would be together anyway, no matter what his parents wanted, no matter what they threatened. They couldn’t stop Jesse and Brian from seeing each other without brute force, and Jesse didn’t care how strict that family was, they weren’t going to lock Brian in a dungeon to keep Jesse away.
Yes, Jesse thought. That was what he would do. It was early, yet. Brian wouldn’t be in bed. He was probably studying or reading. Or thinking of Jesse. Jesse could just go over there and get Brian’s attention somehow. Yes!
Jesse cast a hasty “I’ll be back later” to his mother on his way out the door, and was on his way.
It was dark outside, which was good, because he couldn’t very well go to the door; he would have to sneak around outside and try to get Brian’s attention through his window. He tried to remember if Brian had a tree near his room from which Jesse could climb to get inside. He didn’t think there was, but at the least, he would be able to talk to Brian from the ground.
It was colder than Jesse expected. It was getting late in the year. Next week’s weather called for snow. Jesse hadn’t brought a hat or mittens, in his haste. He was too anxious to see Brian, for his boyfriend to tell him everything would be okay. He stuffed hands into his pockets, but by the time he reached Brian’s street, he was forced to cover his ears with his hands to warm them.
He walked by Brian’s house once, making sure that the light in the living room was the television and both parents were sitting on the sofa watching it. When he was satisfied that they wouldn’t see him sneak into their backyard, Jesse snuck past the hedges and around to the side of the house.
Sadly there wasn’t a tree available, so he couldn’t do his knight in shining armour impression. Instead, it was more like, “Rapunzel, Rapunzel, let down your hair,” with a modern twist.
Jesse carried pebbles from the frozen garden to the window with the light on at the side of the house. He knew it was Brian’s, and he would have known it even had he not seen the Clash poster on the wall through the window. He knew that house inside and out, by now. He threw one at a time, gently so as not to break the glass or make too much noise and alert Brian’s parents. They rattled upon contact and fell back to the ground, until he was on his fourth stone. He saw a face appear at the window and waved. It slid open.
“Hello?” Brian said, staring into the darkness.
“It’s me,” Jesse whispered up to him.
“Jesse?” Brian lowered his voice, too, glancing behind him. “What are you doing here?”
“I needed to see you.”
Brian looked back again. “Hold on a sec.” He vanished long enough that Jesse assumed he was only shutting the door, but when Brian came back he heard the beginning chords of London Calling trickle through the window. “Jesse?”
“I’m still here.”
“Sorry, I just can’t see you out there.”
“I don’t want your parents to find me.”
Brian paused. “Do you know how much trouble I’m going to get in if you get caught?” he hissed.
“I know. I’m sorry. I just… I needed to see you, Brian.”
“Jess-”
“Are you okay?”
Brian hesitated again, as though not having expected the question. “I’m fine,” he said a moment later.
“I’ve been a wreck since last night.” Brian didn’t say anything. “Did they yell at you for a long time?”
“Yeah….”
“They didn’t call my parents.”
“I figured, since you’re not grounded, too.”
“I thought they would, though, so I went to John’s last night.” Jesse wished he could see Brian’s face.
“Jess… I think you really shouldn’t be here,” Brian called down to him.
His heart sank. “I-I know. I just… I needed to talk to you.”
“I think this is a bad idea-”
Brian stopped in mid-word and turned toward the door. He held up a finger at Jesse and disappeared. He heard the music get turned off and then the sound of voices.
“What are you doing with your window open? It’s the middle of winter!” his mother said, crossing the room to the window. Jesse stepped back, further into the shadows.
“I was feeling sick,” he heard Brian respond.
“Well you should know better than to have your music on.”
“I’m sorry, I forgot.” Jesse assumed Brian’s grounding included music and noise restrictions. Fuck, that probably meant they wouldn’t let him play drums. “It helps me study.”
“Well…” her voice was lost in the muffle of her walking back across the room. “And shut that window!” he heard at last.
Brian stood at the window, watching the door until his mother left. Jesse could see his face at that angle, and it made his heart break. He waved at Jesse, clearly too nervous to speak, even to say goodbye, and closed the window.
The walk back to Jesse’s place was depressing and silent. He shuffled back into his house noiselessly, depositing his jacket into the closet and crept up to his room.
Jesse didn’t have the clarity of thought to even undress before crawling beneath his sheets. As far as he was concerned, without access to his boyfriend, his life was over. Jesse was known to be somewhat melodramatic, though. He hugged the pillow to his chest and clenched his eyes, but to no avail. The tears came, whether he wanted them to or not, and Jesse fell asleep that night sobbing into his pillow.
***
Jesse’s weekend was spent unproductively. He didn’t even manage to finish the English reading he had been assigned let alone do his math homework or any number of other things he was supposed to have done. For that reason, when his alarm went off at seven in the morning, he rolled over and glared at it. He wasn’t going to school today. He hadn’t been able to roll out of bed but to eat and use the washroom since Saturday night when he’d conducted his nighttime endeavour to see Brian from outside his window.
Regardless of Jesse’s obvious disinclination to get up, and his clearly sour mood, his mother came in to bang on his door a half an hour later because he was going to be late if he didn’t get moving. When he complained that he didn’t feel well, a quick check of his temperature earned him a slap on the arm. He was fine. “Get out of bed,” she ordered. “Don’t dawdle!”
Jesse kicked stones morosely as he strode down the street. He walked slowly enough to make him late for homeroom, slowly enough, even to make him late for his next class. He mused as he sat down on the curb outside of the convenience store down the street from his high school that he was moving slowly enough to miss the whole day, and that was what he fully intended to do.
How could he be expected to sit through his teachers droning on about commas and algebra? Besides, whatever his mother said on the subject, Jesse really wasn’t feeling well. He thought that at any moment he might throw up, or keel over, or both. He knew very well, though, that it wasn’t an ailment that could be treated with penicillin or hot soup.
Jesse meandered around the part of town closest to his school, thinking briefly about going in to drag John out to skip class with him, but that boy liked skipping class as much as he liked getting slapped. It made him nervous that he was going to get caught, even if he did enjoy the time he spent outside of school. Jesse didn’t want to deal with John’s neurosis as well as his own depression today. He just wanted to mope. Well, really, he wanted not to feel like his world was crumbling down on him, but his chances of that were about as good as John running through the doors and away from whatever class he’d be in by now and down the path to meet Jesse and take him out for ice cream or something equally John-like to get him to crack a smile.
Jesse was so preoccupied with moping and wishing he could see Brian and dwelling on why he couldn’t see Brian that it didn’t come to him until partway through what would have been his second class that he actually had every capability of seeing Brian! Jesse stood up from his seat on the picnic table bench across the street from the school. He could just go to Brian’s school!
He barely considered it a second time before hurrying off in the right direction hoping to get there before Brian’s English class let out; he didn’t know where any of his other ones were.
***
The blonde girl in the third row was absent, today. Her seat was vacant. It made Jesse frown because Brian was generally so oblivious that it would be next to impossible for him to get his attention on his own. Nevertheless he set himself to try. There was only about twenty minutes left of the class, anyway, so the worst-case scenario dictated that he would accost Brian after the class ended. Jesse just wasn’t the most patient of people, so twenty minutes seemed too difficult to endure.
He peered through the window at Brian who was studiously taking notes, staring at the blackboard and then glancing down at his papers every few minutes. The teacher was out of Jesse’s sight, and the way Brian kept glancing to the far side of the room suggested that perhaps he or she was lecturing from over there. Jesse waved his arms, jumped up and down, pulled out a colourful sheet of paper from his binder and waved that in the window a few times hoping that the stark brightness of pink would be worthy of diverting Brian’s attention, but as before, he managed to get the attention of someone else, instead.
Jesse repeated the tradition, mouthing Brian’s name to the boy sitting directly beside him until he pointed and asked, “Him?” Jesse nodded furiously, as he had with third-row girl, and the guy kicked across the aisle, then nodded his head toward the door. Brian glanced at his foot, then at the boy, and finally followed his direction. Jesse waved frantically at the door. Brian swallowed and tried not to look too happy to see him. He glanced blankly down at his notebook, not writing, and raised his hand after a moment’s pause.
Jesse watched as Brian asked permission to go to the bathroom and stepped away from the door, waiting for his lover to emerge. He didn’t wait long.
The sound of the door opening was like a breath of fresh air to Jesse. There was nothing that could make him happier but to close his boyfriend in his arms and be reassured that everything would be okay.
“What are you doing here?” was the first thing from Brian’s mouth as he shut the door behind him.
“I had to see you.” Jesse stepped closer to Brian. He didn’t touch him, though. There was something about the stiff way Brian was standing that put him off.
“Jess, why aren’t you at school?”
“I couldn’t concentrate in class!” he exclaimed incredulously. “I could barely get out of bed this morning.”
Brian’s face softened. “Jess….”
“Look,” he said, and reached out for Brian’s hands, “I know it won’t be easy, but I won’t let your mom and dad drive me away.” Brian opened his mouth as if to say something, but Jesse wasn’t finished. “I’ve never felt like this before, Brian, and besides that, you’re one of my best friends! We can make it work.”
“Jesse-”
“I don’t like sneaking around, but I won’t let anyone tell me I can’t see you,” he finished, cutting Brian off again.
With a sigh, Brian looked at the ground. He looked sad and scared. Jesse understood. He didn’t want them torn apart either. It wouldn’t be easy, but he was determined to make it work.
“Jess… I… I think maybe…” Brian looked up at his face, into his eyes, and the scared, nervous look was amplified tenfold there. “Jesse, I think we should stop seeing each other.”
Jesse didn’t hear what he said next, although Brian’s lips were moving; the sound of his shattering heart was ringing too loudly in his ears.
“I don’t understand.”
“Jesse,” Brian shook his head, “it’s a bad idea. Someone’s bound to see, and to mention it to our parents. You’re not in trouble yet, but if this keeps going on, you will be.”
“I don’t care!”
“Jesse, please don’t make this hard.”
“It’s not hard, already?” he demanded.
Brian sighed and released Jesse’s hands. “Look, they’ve grounded me for six months. Six months without drumming, without music or television or movies or going out with friends. They’re scared it’s not just you. They think that I’ve been fooling around with Garrett and Mike and fucking everyone I know, so they won’t let me see anyone. My life is fucking over, and it’s because of some stupid fucking mistake!”
“Mistake?” Jesse muttered. “Is that all it was?”
Brian’s face looked shocked. “Oh, no, Jess, that wasn’t what I meant-”
“It was exactly what you meant,” he threw back angrily.
“Jess-”
“Don’t bother! You don’t have to explain-”
“Fuck, Jesse! Maybe you’ve never had to fucking deal with your parents throwing a lifetime of punishment at you, but I have, and I do! Maybe you’ve never had your dad raise a hand to you, but in my house, I’m not too old to get a swat for doing something wrong. This isn’t about me and you, okay! This is about self-preservation! So don’t make me into the bad guy, here! You know I like you! You know I’ve had fun, but fuck! Playtime is over!”
“So you don’t want to even try? Didn’t you feel anything?”
“I felt plenty, Jesse, and you know that!” Brian crossed his arms over his chest. “I don’t want it to be this way anymore than you do. If you were a girl-”
“Then you wouldn’t want anything to do with me! Brian, grow the fuck up!” Jesse cried. “You can’t just pretend this was some adolescent experimentation. You can’t just expect to decide to be straight and suddenly like girls. It doesn’t fucking work that way!”
“Well it has to!” Brian yelled back. “Because I don’t know what else to do!”
Jesse’s anger faded rapidly, replaced by sorrow. “Brian, maybe we could talk to them-”
“Jess, just… no. Okay? No. It’s over.”
“It can’t be over! Brian!” He reached out to him, but Brian shrugged him off.
“Just go home, Jesse!” he called back before he opened the classroom door and disappeared back inside. The sound of the door’s latch clicking shut echoed in his hollow chest. It rang of finality.
***
When John opened his front door at five o’clock, Jesse was shivering. He’d been outside in the cold all day, and even wearing a coat and mitts, he was too chilled to endure much more of the winter weather. When it had started snowing, Jesse decided it was finally time to go indoors.
John commented on his red face and asked him how long he’d been out there. When Jesse didn’t answer he wondered aloud why he hadn’t come to school that day, and whether he was feeling any better. Jesse still didn’t respond. He wasn’t sure if he could answer without falling apart. He’d managed to keep it together, mostly; he’d only broken down twice, once directly after leaving Brian’s school, and the second time when he began to think too much about it that afternoon. John took note of Jesse’s uncharacteristic silence and made an executive decision to bring him upstairs.
Jesse knew by the lack of vehicle in the driveway that John’s parents weren’t home, yet, which meant that his growling stomach would get fed later, even if he wasn’t looking forward to sitting at the dinner table with the Nolans.
He sat on the edge of John’s bed and stripped his backpack off, dropping it onto the floor. John came to sit beside the shivering boy, offering a hoodie for warmth as well as style, considering Jesse was still wearing his school clothes, which had yet to see the school that day. He pulled it over his head gratefully, relishing the added warmth. It was really starting to get cold outside, this time of the year.
Jesse was almost sad to see the coldness go because the numbness it offered was far superior to the burning ache in his chest that he felt whenever he thought of Brian. He would rather not think about the other boy, but he knew better than to consider that as an option. Brian was always on his mind even before he’d stabbed Jesse through the heart; now that he was bleeding and aching, each agonizing throb of his chest was a slap-in-the-face reminder.
“Jesse,” John said after a long while, “do you realize you haven’t even said hello to me?”
Jesse blinked away the haze of his thoughts and turned his attention to his friend. John was perched on the edge of the bed a foot or so away from him, and he was looking on in obvious worry. He swallowed, although it was an effort to say the least, and opened his mouth to mutter, softly, “Sorry.”
“Why didn’t you come to school today?”
“I… I went to see Brian.”
“At his school?” Jesse nodded. “Well, that’s good, isn’t it? I mean-”
“He told me he didn’t want to see me anymore,” he croaked. It was a struggle to remain detached, but if he let himself think too carefully about the words as they spilled from his lips, he knew he would cry. Jesse hated crying, especially in front of other people, even if John wasn’t really “other people.” He didn’t want to open that floodgate because as soon as he did, there was no telling when he would stop. “He said,” Jesse continued, “it was self-preservation. His mom and dad grounded him for six months. They won’t let him see anyone or listen to music, or play drums, or anything…. I think he thinks if he acts like a good boy they’ll cut down the sentence.”
“That’s ridiculous! He just… he broke up with you?” John looked genuinely horrified. Jesse had been a little worried that by coming here to confess this to John, his friend would be pleased, still harbouring some resentment for Brian. “That’s terrible, Jesse!”
Jesse nodded. Oh no. He felt his throat getting choked up. He tried to breathe steadily to stop the tears that threatened to overwhelm him, but he knew already that it was to no purpose. “I don’t know how he can… how he can just… just fucking end it like that! After everything we’ve been through! He’s one of my best friends, I can’t… I can’t just forget that, John!” Jesse felt tears roll down his cheeks, but he pushed on. “A piece of my fucking life is just gone, just like that! He might as well have taken an arm or a leg! Or my heart; I’ll not be needing that!”
Sobs caught in his throat and choked him, made him sputter incoherently, but no quantity of poetics could remedy the agony in his chest. John gathered him in his arms, safe, familiar John. Jesse could feel a little safer, here. He clutched the other boy. Jesse wrapped his arms around John and wept into his shoulder. He couldn’t feel embarrassed or foolish for falling apart, yet. The pain was still too near, and it still consumed him. He was only thankful that his friend was so understanding that he would drop everything to comfort Jesse. He had always known, but never really appreciated the lengths to which John would go for the sake of their friendship, and just to help Jesse. Jesse inhaled the fresh scent of John’s clean clothes and the underlying, comforting smell of his best friend’s skin, made up of soap and deodorant and sweat. John’s arms tightened around him, and he rubbed Jesse’s back and stroked his hair with his free hand. He turned his head into the skin of his neck.
“Does it always hurt like this?” Jesse asked.
John tried to pull back, but he held fast, and he quickly aborted the attempt. With his lips close enough to tickle his ear with his breath, John said softly, “Yeah. It usually does. But it gets better, Jess.”
“I don’t think it will,” Jesse muttered back.
“It might not feel like it now, but it does.”
“How do you know?”
John shrugged with the slightest movement of his shoulders. “I’ve been broken-hearted before, Jess.”
Jesse blinked. He backed up. John let him pull away and returned Jesse’s stare. Jesse hadn’t realized. Had John been in love before? And if so, with whom? Who’d broken his heart? “I’ve never felt like this before,” he said stupidly, but despite how it sounded, like he was being melodramatic and emo, Jesse was suddenly stricken by the fact that it was true. No girl had ever made him feel like this before. He’d never been so affected by a break-up.
“It gets better, Jesse,” John promised. “I know it hurts, but-”
“I can’t! I can’t handle this!”
“Yes you can!” John touched Jesse’s shoulder, a movement that shocked him because Jesse’s brain wasn’t keeping up right now. “You’ve broken up with a hundred girls-”
“But they aren’t him! He’s hilarious and funny, and he’s one of the best musicians I’ve ever met! He’s sarcastic and witty and arrogant, and he’s gorgeous! I can’t control myself when he’s around. He’s fun; I’m never bored with him, even when we’re just sitting and playing video games or watching TV or eating pizza! I can talk to him about anything in the world, and even when it isn’t sexual, I can touch him, and it isn’t weird. He’s my best friend! He’s just like-” Jesse stopped, and his wandering gaze stuck on John’s face. His dark eyes shone back at Jesse, eyebrows tilted in concern, lips parted slightly, waiting for the chance to reply or not yet closed from when he last spoke.
Jesse leant forward and kissed John. He wasn’t sure who was more surprised. John didn’t even have time to kiss back, still shocked into immobility until after Jesse relented. Even then, John didn’t move except to blink, although Jesse was sure that the action wasn’t borne from need to moisten his eyes as much as it was from the intention to hide the turning of wheels within his head from Jesse’s sight. Before he could speak, though, Jesse’s lips acted again.
In Jesse’s mind there was no thought, there was no reasoning but that John’s lips felt good, especially when they returned the kiss. His focus on moving his mouth just so, extending his tongue, catching John’s lips with his teeth soothed his mind like ointment for the gaping wound where his heart had once been.
“Jesse, wait-” He cut off John in the middle of whatever he was going to say- likely a protest of some kind- with another soul-sucking kiss. Jesse was satisfied when John moaned, but John pulled away almost immediately following. “Jess,” he said weakly.
“John, please!” His voice wavered vulnerably. John didn’t finish whatever he meant to say, which Jesse took for assent. His hand found John’s knee and inched higher, until the other boy’s eyes drifted out of focus, and Jesse thought it safe to kiss him again.
In minutes Jesse had him on his side. Their hips were flush with Jesse’s hand trapped in between them, his thumb defying the miniscule space between them to slide across John’s fly and abuse the bulge beneath it. His friend was breathing hard.
“John,” Jesse whispered. The other boy’s eyes drifted open, but Jesse kissed him again before he could regain his senses. This felt good, rubbing against his best friend, and Jesse really needed to feel good right now.
“Unh,” John groaned because Jesse had undone his fly and was now delving into the constraints of his jeans to take hold of his erection. Jesse bit John’s chin, then his throat, not hard enough to bruise, finally finding his earlobe. No sooner had Jesse started sucking on that then did John’s hands wildly seek Jesse’s fly, too.
He moaned into John’s throat when he pulled Jesse free of his trousers. He heard him whisper his name. The boy’s thumb caressed his head and smeared the droplets there across his skin so that he panted, and his teeth bit down slightly harder than he had intended, but it made John moan more loudly, which made the blood rush to Jesse’s cock. He grunted because he knew better than to cry out, even though he was getting close. Before he could be reminded of the repercussions that would follow were they to be discovered, John’s hand tightened, and he sped up. Jesse gasped and did the same until they were both hard pressed to muffle their sounds. Jesse kissed John again to drown the noises that they made in the wet heat of mouths and tongues. John answered with fervour, now completely uninhibited because regardless of his apprehensions about kissing his best friend while he was distraught, they had gone too far now to pretend he wasn’t enjoying himself.
When John’s moans started getting more frequent, and Jesse was beginning to have a hard time breathing and kissing at the same time, he pulled back from their kiss with a wet smack of lips.
“Oh, fuck, Jesse,” John mumbled. “I’m going to finish.”
Those words had some mystical effect on Jesse, maybe because he was a horny young man or maybe because he was already that close himself, for almost as soon as John said that, Jesse felt the familiar tension of impending climax begin to surge through him, too.
“Me, too.”
“Shit, Jesse!” John groaned, and with a jerk of his hips, he was coming in Jesse’s hand, with Jesse following almost immediately.
Post-coital bliss didn’t engulf him for long, though, because when Jesse’s head fell down onto the pillow, he remembered the way Brian would lazily blink at him and smile because he couldn’t speak so well immediately after an orgasm. Jesse felt his eyes fill with tears, again. He knew it was a shitty thing to do, and he felt like a bastard for it, but Jesse couldn’t strike the tears from his eyes. He tried his best to roll over and hide it from John, but his friend was too perceptive for his own good.
John’s unsoiled hand stroked back Jesse’s hair while he tried unsuccessfully to wipe his own tears away. John leaned over for the tissues on the desk to help him clean his other hand, when he didn’t make a move to acknowledge the tissues that he honestly hadn’t known John was offering.
“I’m sorry,” Jesse sputtered, covering his face. He tried to turn away, but John stopped him and pulled him into a hug. Gratefully, he wrapped his arms around his friend again and sobbed into his shirt. “I’m sorry!” he gasped.
“Shh” was John’s sole response.
Jesse didn’t know until the next morning, but he fell asleep in John’s arms with tears still drying on his cheeks.
[Author] dejectedmadness
[Rating] FINALLY NC-17 for boykissing/touching/sexual contact/boysecks!!![Disclaimer] I am posting fanFICTION. Neither the characters nor the ideas belong to me, just the plot specific to this story. No profit is being made off of this fiction, it is being written solely for my entertainment and for the entertainment of others as warped as I am. Don't sue.
[Band/Pairing] Brand New/Straylight Run, Jesse Lacey/Brian Lane, Jesse Lacey/John Nolan
[Summary] Jesse makes a new friend about whom John is not particularly fond for reasons as yet only speculated upon.
[X-Posted] rockinthebed, slashypunkboys, _brand_new_love, lacey_loves_jno
[Author’s Notes] This isn’t intended to be particularly AU, although it is a high school fic, and it has some anachronistic tendencies.
Note of awesome: Mavericks is where I first saw Viscera’s Recital and Social Code and the last place I ever saw Blue Skies at War. Just the awesomest damn bar in Ottawa. They always have the coolest people playing there. I don’t know if there is somewhere called Mavericks in Long Island, but we can pretend. We can’t pretend they are cooler than Ottawa-Mavericks because there is no such thing… except maybe Ottawa-Zaphod Beeblebrox. Too much coolness. Sorry.
Saturday morning, Jesse opened his eyes too early. It couldn’t have been eight o’clock yet, but that didn’t matter. He hadn’t slept much all night, anyway. Curled up with John in his small single bed, Jesse had lain awake for hours thinking about Brian.
John’s mother had called his mother and asked for Jesse to stay over. Whether Brian’s parents had called his own to tell them what they’d caught the two boys doing, Jesse still didn’t know. Regardless, she’d agreed that he could sleep over at John’s place.
Jesse rubbed his eyes. Just because he hadn’t slept didn’t mean he wasn’t tired. He’d wept, relating the story to John until very late, brooding over what would happen now, whether his parents knew, what they would do if they did, and what he was going to do about Brian. He couldn’t just stop seeing him. He was one of Jesse’s best friends, and what was more, he cared about him! He cared about Brian in a way far different than he’d ever cared for another person before in his life. The pain he felt at thinking he might never get to see the boy again felt like a solid mass in his gut. It was agony that radiated outward, poisoning Jesse’s whole body. Even late the night before, when his stomach was telling him he needed to eat, and John was reiterating the fact verbally in case he hadn’t received his body’s memo, he couldn’t stand the thought of food. It made him nauseous. He hurt everywhere, likely from the tension. Fear and distress made Jesse’s whole body, and every muscle in it, contract and hold in just that way for hours until the cause was gone. His throat hurt from sobbing, and his eyes were red and puffy from the tears, not to mention the enormous crying-headache he had.
Unable to pretend to be resting any longer, Jesse sat up in the bed. He’d slept in his clothes, not having brought pyjamas. He hadn’t really wanted to get undressed the night before, anyway. Brian’s mother had seen him half naked with Brian on top of him. That wasn’t a memory he wanted to dwell on, so he’d avoided taking his clothes off at all costs. Now, though, Jesse relished the thought of a hot shower to wash the grime, and the salt of tears from his body, anticipating how it would soothe his tight muscles.
He dragged himself out of bed quietly so as not to disturb his still-sleeping friend and tiptoed to the bathroom.
When Jesse was clean and feeling a little less distraught, he turned off the streaming water and dressed again, in yesterday’s clothes. John had vanished from his bedroom, and from the smell of pancakes wafting up from the kitchen, it looked as though he had decided to get a head start on the day, as well.
John looked up as Jesse entered the kitchen. “Hey.” Jesse didn’t respond. He just sat down. “How are you feeling?” The look he cast his friend could have flash-frozen a volcano. “That good, huh? Are you hungry?”
“I don’t think I’ll ever eat again,” he mumbled, crossing his arms on the table and burying his face in them.
“Hey, it’ll be alright, okay?” John sat down beside him and touched his arm comfortingly.
“Unless by some miracle my parents don’t know or Brian mysteriously developed two new parents overnight….”
John’s face was sympathetic. “I… I’m sure this is just gonna… blow over. In a couple of days everything will be fine.”
“He told me never to come back, John. I don’t know if there’s a bright side to that.”
John sighed and returned to his sizzling pancakes. “You should try to eat, at least. You love pancakes!”
Jesse frowned. “You know, Brian made me pancakes once.”
John didn’t say anything, but a moment later he set a platter down in front of his friend.
“I’m not hungry,” Jesse tried to say, pushing away his breakfast.
“Jess, please. You have to eat!”
“God, you know,” Jesse burst out just then, and what he had to say didn’t have the first thing to do with breakfast, “it almost wouldn’t be so bad if they hadn’t walked in on us! We were just playing around!” His face bunched up again as he struggled to hold back tears. “Fuck, John! Why can’t this just be okay? Why has it got to be some big struggle for acceptance?”
Spatula still in hand, John sat down beside his friend. Jesse felt no comfort from the hand resting casually on his arm. “I don’t know, Jess.”
“I just want what everyone else wants! I just want someone to hold! I want someone to kiss and touch! I want someone to love me. Is that so wrong? I mean, who the fuck cares whether it’s a girl or a boy or whatever?”
“It’s the most natural thing for a person to want, Jesse.”
“Then why? Why is this a sin against God? And why do they hate me now? Just because we like each other? Just because we’re attracted to each other? Just because we’re both boys? That’s not fair!”
It wasn’t fair, and they both knew it, but although John was there for him, and he understood Jesse’s frustration and anger, he knew that his friend couldn’t help him feel less lost and confused.
A moment of silence passed before John spoke up again, his voice soft, “Hey… why don’t we go see a show tonight? Maybe someone good will be playing at Mavericks.”
“I don’t think I want to go out tonight.” He shook his head.
“Well, we could stay in and rent a movie. We could watch some really horrible comedy or get something scary.”
“John… thanks…” Jesse stood slowly. “I think maybe I want to be alone. I’m gonna go home and see if they called my mom.”
“If you get in trouble, you can come over.”
“Yeah.” Jesse thanked him.
Feeling no better and slightly hungry, Jesse obtained his things from his friend’s room and let himself out.
***
As it turned out, Jesse’s mom had gotten no phone call the previous night from the Lane residence. Jesse’s relief was short lived, though, lasting only until he recalled he was still unwelcome in his boyfriend’s home… or was that ex-boyfriend, now?
Jesse trudged up to his room, putting on his most depressing Smiths compilation and crawling into bed, not to sleep, but to brood for hours.
Despite his intentions, Jesse woke up later, around four in the afternoon with a headache, so hungry he felt nauseous. Regardless of the protestations made by his growling stomach, Jesse couldn’t force himself out of bed. He knew, of course, that the minute he appeared downstairs and began to rummage through the fridge, someone would come and squeal that he was going to spoil his supper. In Jesse’s current mood, he would be able to do nothing but retort something unkind to whichever munchkin had the bad fortune to piss him off today, the most accursed of all days, save only one: the dreaded yesterday. That would have his mother yelling at him about doing unto others and whatever other bullshit she spewed to try to instil good manners in her children, without regard to the fact that Jesse couldn’t stop thinking about how he hadn’t harmed anyone, and yet the one thing he wanted most in the world had been stolen from him. That thought alone was enough to suppress any further complaints from his stomach long enough to wait for dinner.
He was sullen throughout the meal, hoping to avoid questions pertaining to his depressed countenance to no avail. His mother asked him, “Are you feeling well?”, “Are you arguing with John, again?”, “Did you get in trouble at school?”, and Jesse’s personal favourite, “Is it a girl?” After the last, he stood from the table using the excuse that maybe he wasn’t feeling as well as he thought. He scraped what was left of his potatoes and peas into the trash before ascending the stairs to hide in his room, light off, door closed.
He kept the music low to avoid his mother’s scolding that the girls were going to bed later, and because he didn’t want to deal with one of them coming in to exclaim that they were on the phone, couldn’t he turn off that noise and give them some privacy? He hated teenage girls. In fact, Jesse decided, he hated all girls, of all ages. He hated everyone right then, not least of all himself.
He berated himself for hours, listening to Morrissey crooning through his speakers. He should have heard the footsteps. He should have made sure the door was locked. He should have stopped Brian… only he really didn’t think he could have done that at all. It was never really possible to stop Brian when he had his heart set on something, like making Jesse moan into pillows, or playing drums on Jesse’s arms and legs, or writing a killer song to make Mike jealous, or getting John to accept him. Brian was very good at getting what he wanted. No, Jesse certainly couldn’t have dissuaded him from playing professor to show him just what his belly button did to him when it was licked.
Jesse felt tears rush to his eyes again, sitting alone in the dark, curled into the corner of his bed. He’d never missed anyone like he was missing his boyfriend right then.
He wondered what Brian was doing. He hoped his parents hadn’t concocted some terrible punishment of cleaning the eaves trough on the house in the dark without a ladder or something. He didn’t think the Lanes were quite so strict, but then again, he’d never known them to need to punish Brian before, let alone for something like this. He hoped, at least, that Brian was just sitting at his desk doing homework, or listening to music, or laying in bed, like Jesse was, thinking about him.
He knew without a doubt that Brian was missing him as much as Jesse was missing Brian, but that didn’t make it easier to stay away. If Jesse could do anything, he knew that he’d go to Brian’s house and sneak through his window, or coax Brian outside with him, just for the chance to hold him, to convince them both that it didn’t matter what people thought; they would be okay. They would be together anyway, no matter what his parents wanted, no matter what they threatened. They couldn’t stop Jesse and Brian from seeing each other without brute force, and Jesse didn’t care how strict that family was, they weren’t going to lock Brian in a dungeon to keep Jesse away.
Yes, Jesse thought. That was what he would do. It was early, yet. Brian wouldn’t be in bed. He was probably studying or reading. Or thinking of Jesse. Jesse could just go over there and get Brian’s attention somehow. Yes!
Jesse cast a hasty “I’ll be back later” to his mother on his way out the door, and was on his way.
It was dark outside, which was good, because he couldn’t very well go to the door; he would have to sneak around outside and try to get Brian’s attention through his window. He tried to remember if Brian had a tree near his room from which Jesse could climb to get inside. He didn’t think there was, but at the least, he would be able to talk to Brian from the ground.
It was colder than Jesse expected. It was getting late in the year. Next week’s weather called for snow. Jesse hadn’t brought a hat or mittens, in his haste. He was too anxious to see Brian, for his boyfriend to tell him everything would be okay. He stuffed hands into his pockets, but by the time he reached Brian’s street, he was forced to cover his ears with his hands to warm them.
He walked by Brian’s house once, making sure that the light in the living room was the television and both parents were sitting on the sofa watching it. When he was satisfied that they wouldn’t see him sneak into their backyard, Jesse snuck past the hedges and around to the side of the house.
Sadly there wasn’t a tree available, so he couldn’t do his knight in shining armour impression. Instead, it was more like, “Rapunzel, Rapunzel, let down your hair,” with a modern twist.
Jesse carried pebbles from the frozen garden to the window with the light on at the side of the house. He knew it was Brian’s, and he would have known it even had he not seen the Clash poster on the wall through the window. He knew that house inside and out, by now. He threw one at a time, gently so as not to break the glass or make too much noise and alert Brian’s parents. They rattled upon contact and fell back to the ground, until he was on his fourth stone. He saw a face appear at the window and waved. It slid open.
“Hello?” Brian said, staring into the darkness.
“It’s me,” Jesse whispered up to him.
“Jesse?” Brian lowered his voice, too, glancing behind him. “What are you doing here?”
“I needed to see you.”
Brian looked back again. “Hold on a sec.” He vanished long enough that Jesse assumed he was only shutting the door, but when Brian came back he heard the beginning chords of London Calling trickle through the window. “Jesse?”
“I’m still here.”
“Sorry, I just can’t see you out there.”
“I don’t want your parents to find me.”
Brian paused. “Do you know how much trouble I’m going to get in if you get caught?” he hissed.
“I know. I’m sorry. I just… I needed to see you, Brian.”
“Jess-”
“Are you okay?”
Brian hesitated again, as though not having expected the question. “I’m fine,” he said a moment later.
“I’ve been a wreck since last night.” Brian didn’t say anything. “Did they yell at you for a long time?”
“Yeah….”
“They didn’t call my parents.”
“I figured, since you’re not grounded, too.”
“I thought they would, though, so I went to John’s last night.” Jesse wished he could see Brian’s face.
“Jess… I think you really shouldn’t be here,” Brian called down to him.
His heart sank. “I-I know. I just… I needed to talk to you.”
“I think this is a bad idea-”
Brian stopped in mid-word and turned toward the door. He held up a finger at Jesse and disappeared. He heard the music get turned off and then the sound of voices.
“What are you doing with your window open? It’s the middle of winter!” his mother said, crossing the room to the window. Jesse stepped back, further into the shadows.
“I was feeling sick,” he heard Brian respond.
“Well you should know better than to have your music on.”
“I’m sorry, I forgot.” Jesse assumed Brian’s grounding included music and noise restrictions. Fuck, that probably meant they wouldn’t let him play drums. “It helps me study.”
“Well…” her voice was lost in the muffle of her walking back across the room. “And shut that window!” he heard at last.
Brian stood at the window, watching the door until his mother left. Jesse could see his face at that angle, and it made his heart break. He waved at Jesse, clearly too nervous to speak, even to say goodbye, and closed the window.
The walk back to Jesse’s place was depressing and silent. He shuffled back into his house noiselessly, depositing his jacket into the closet and crept up to his room.
Jesse didn’t have the clarity of thought to even undress before crawling beneath his sheets. As far as he was concerned, without access to his boyfriend, his life was over. Jesse was known to be somewhat melodramatic, though. He hugged the pillow to his chest and clenched his eyes, but to no avail. The tears came, whether he wanted them to or not, and Jesse fell asleep that night sobbing into his pillow.
***
Jesse’s weekend was spent unproductively. He didn’t even manage to finish the English reading he had been assigned let alone do his math homework or any number of other things he was supposed to have done. For that reason, when his alarm went off at seven in the morning, he rolled over and glared at it. He wasn’t going to school today. He hadn’t been able to roll out of bed but to eat and use the washroom since Saturday night when he’d conducted his nighttime endeavour to see Brian from outside his window.
Regardless of Jesse’s obvious disinclination to get up, and his clearly sour mood, his mother came in to bang on his door a half an hour later because he was going to be late if he didn’t get moving. When he complained that he didn’t feel well, a quick check of his temperature earned him a slap on the arm. He was fine. “Get out of bed,” she ordered. “Don’t dawdle!”
Jesse kicked stones morosely as he strode down the street. He walked slowly enough to make him late for homeroom, slowly enough, even to make him late for his next class. He mused as he sat down on the curb outside of the convenience store down the street from his high school that he was moving slowly enough to miss the whole day, and that was what he fully intended to do.
How could he be expected to sit through his teachers droning on about commas and algebra? Besides, whatever his mother said on the subject, Jesse really wasn’t feeling well. He thought that at any moment he might throw up, or keel over, or both. He knew very well, though, that it wasn’t an ailment that could be treated with penicillin or hot soup.
Jesse meandered around the part of town closest to his school, thinking briefly about going in to drag John out to skip class with him, but that boy liked skipping class as much as he liked getting slapped. It made him nervous that he was going to get caught, even if he did enjoy the time he spent outside of school. Jesse didn’t want to deal with John’s neurosis as well as his own depression today. He just wanted to mope. Well, really, he wanted not to feel like his world was crumbling down on him, but his chances of that were about as good as John running through the doors and away from whatever class he’d be in by now and down the path to meet Jesse and take him out for ice cream or something equally John-like to get him to crack a smile.
Jesse was so preoccupied with moping and wishing he could see Brian and dwelling on why he couldn’t see Brian that it didn’t come to him until partway through what would have been his second class that he actually had every capability of seeing Brian! Jesse stood up from his seat on the picnic table bench across the street from the school. He could just go to Brian’s school!
He barely considered it a second time before hurrying off in the right direction hoping to get there before Brian’s English class let out; he didn’t know where any of his other ones were.
***
The blonde girl in the third row was absent, today. Her seat was vacant. It made Jesse frown because Brian was generally so oblivious that it would be next to impossible for him to get his attention on his own. Nevertheless he set himself to try. There was only about twenty minutes left of the class, anyway, so the worst-case scenario dictated that he would accost Brian after the class ended. Jesse just wasn’t the most patient of people, so twenty minutes seemed too difficult to endure.
He peered through the window at Brian who was studiously taking notes, staring at the blackboard and then glancing down at his papers every few minutes. The teacher was out of Jesse’s sight, and the way Brian kept glancing to the far side of the room suggested that perhaps he or she was lecturing from over there. Jesse waved his arms, jumped up and down, pulled out a colourful sheet of paper from his binder and waved that in the window a few times hoping that the stark brightness of pink would be worthy of diverting Brian’s attention, but as before, he managed to get the attention of someone else, instead.
Jesse repeated the tradition, mouthing Brian’s name to the boy sitting directly beside him until he pointed and asked, “Him?” Jesse nodded furiously, as he had with third-row girl, and the guy kicked across the aisle, then nodded his head toward the door. Brian glanced at his foot, then at the boy, and finally followed his direction. Jesse waved frantically at the door. Brian swallowed and tried not to look too happy to see him. He glanced blankly down at his notebook, not writing, and raised his hand after a moment’s pause.
Jesse watched as Brian asked permission to go to the bathroom and stepped away from the door, waiting for his lover to emerge. He didn’t wait long.
The sound of the door opening was like a breath of fresh air to Jesse. There was nothing that could make him happier but to close his boyfriend in his arms and be reassured that everything would be okay.
“What are you doing here?” was the first thing from Brian’s mouth as he shut the door behind him.
“I had to see you.” Jesse stepped closer to Brian. He didn’t touch him, though. There was something about the stiff way Brian was standing that put him off.
“Jess, why aren’t you at school?”
“I couldn’t concentrate in class!” he exclaimed incredulously. “I could barely get out of bed this morning.”
Brian’s face softened. “Jess….”
“Look,” he said, and reached out for Brian’s hands, “I know it won’t be easy, but I won’t let your mom and dad drive me away.” Brian opened his mouth as if to say something, but Jesse wasn’t finished. “I’ve never felt like this before, Brian, and besides that, you’re one of my best friends! We can make it work.”
“Jesse-”
“I don’t like sneaking around, but I won’t let anyone tell me I can’t see you,” he finished, cutting Brian off again.
With a sigh, Brian looked at the ground. He looked sad and scared. Jesse understood. He didn’t want them torn apart either. It wouldn’t be easy, but he was determined to make it work.
“Jess… I… I think maybe…” Brian looked up at his face, into his eyes, and the scared, nervous look was amplified tenfold there. “Jesse, I think we should stop seeing each other.”
Jesse didn’t hear what he said next, although Brian’s lips were moving; the sound of his shattering heart was ringing too loudly in his ears.
“I don’t understand.”
“Jesse,” Brian shook his head, “it’s a bad idea. Someone’s bound to see, and to mention it to our parents. You’re not in trouble yet, but if this keeps going on, you will be.”
“I don’t care!”
“Jesse, please don’t make this hard.”
“It’s not hard, already?” he demanded.
Brian sighed and released Jesse’s hands. “Look, they’ve grounded me for six months. Six months without drumming, without music or television or movies or going out with friends. They’re scared it’s not just you. They think that I’ve been fooling around with Garrett and Mike and fucking everyone I know, so they won’t let me see anyone. My life is fucking over, and it’s because of some stupid fucking mistake!”
“Mistake?” Jesse muttered. “Is that all it was?”
Brian’s face looked shocked. “Oh, no, Jess, that wasn’t what I meant-”
“It was exactly what you meant,” he threw back angrily.
“Jess-”
“Don’t bother! You don’t have to explain-”
“Fuck, Jesse! Maybe you’ve never had to fucking deal with your parents throwing a lifetime of punishment at you, but I have, and I do! Maybe you’ve never had your dad raise a hand to you, but in my house, I’m not too old to get a swat for doing something wrong. This isn’t about me and you, okay! This is about self-preservation! So don’t make me into the bad guy, here! You know I like you! You know I’ve had fun, but fuck! Playtime is over!”
“So you don’t want to even try? Didn’t you feel anything?”
“I felt plenty, Jesse, and you know that!” Brian crossed his arms over his chest. “I don’t want it to be this way anymore than you do. If you were a girl-”
“Then you wouldn’t want anything to do with me! Brian, grow the fuck up!” Jesse cried. “You can’t just pretend this was some adolescent experimentation. You can’t just expect to decide to be straight and suddenly like girls. It doesn’t fucking work that way!”
“Well it has to!” Brian yelled back. “Because I don’t know what else to do!”
Jesse’s anger faded rapidly, replaced by sorrow. “Brian, maybe we could talk to them-”
“Jess, just… no. Okay? No. It’s over.”
“It can’t be over! Brian!” He reached out to him, but Brian shrugged him off.
“Just go home, Jesse!” he called back before he opened the classroom door and disappeared back inside. The sound of the door’s latch clicking shut echoed in his hollow chest. It rang of finality.
***
When John opened his front door at five o’clock, Jesse was shivering. He’d been outside in the cold all day, and even wearing a coat and mitts, he was too chilled to endure much more of the winter weather. When it had started snowing, Jesse decided it was finally time to go indoors.
John commented on his red face and asked him how long he’d been out there. When Jesse didn’t answer he wondered aloud why he hadn’t come to school that day, and whether he was feeling any better. Jesse still didn’t respond. He wasn’t sure if he could answer without falling apart. He’d managed to keep it together, mostly; he’d only broken down twice, once directly after leaving Brian’s school, and the second time when he began to think too much about it that afternoon. John took note of Jesse’s uncharacteristic silence and made an executive decision to bring him upstairs.
Jesse knew by the lack of vehicle in the driveway that John’s parents weren’t home, yet, which meant that his growling stomach would get fed later, even if he wasn’t looking forward to sitting at the dinner table with the Nolans.
He sat on the edge of John’s bed and stripped his backpack off, dropping it onto the floor. John came to sit beside the shivering boy, offering a hoodie for warmth as well as style, considering Jesse was still wearing his school clothes, which had yet to see the school that day. He pulled it over his head gratefully, relishing the added warmth. It was really starting to get cold outside, this time of the year.
Jesse was almost sad to see the coldness go because the numbness it offered was far superior to the burning ache in his chest that he felt whenever he thought of Brian. He would rather not think about the other boy, but he knew better than to consider that as an option. Brian was always on his mind even before he’d stabbed Jesse through the heart; now that he was bleeding and aching, each agonizing throb of his chest was a slap-in-the-face reminder.
“Jesse,” John said after a long while, “do you realize you haven’t even said hello to me?”
Jesse blinked away the haze of his thoughts and turned his attention to his friend. John was perched on the edge of the bed a foot or so away from him, and he was looking on in obvious worry. He swallowed, although it was an effort to say the least, and opened his mouth to mutter, softly, “Sorry.”
“Why didn’t you come to school today?”
“I… I went to see Brian.”
“At his school?” Jesse nodded. “Well, that’s good, isn’t it? I mean-”
“He told me he didn’t want to see me anymore,” he croaked. It was a struggle to remain detached, but if he let himself think too carefully about the words as they spilled from his lips, he knew he would cry. Jesse hated crying, especially in front of other people, even if John wasn’t really “other people.” He didn’t want to open that floodgate because as soon as he did, there was no telling when he would stop. “He said,” Jesse continued, “it was self-preservation. His mom and dad grounded him for six months. They won’t let him see anyone or listen to music, or play drums, or anything…. I think he thinks if he acts like a good boy they’ll cut down the sentence.”
“That’s ridiculous! He just… he broke up with you?” John looked genuinely horrified. Jesse had been a little worried that by coming here to confess this to John, his friend would be pleased, still harbouring some resentment for Brian. “That’s terrible, Jesse!”
Jesse nodded. Oh no. He felt his throat getting choked up. He tried to breathe steadily to stop the tears that threatened to overwhelm him, but he knew already that it was to no purpose. “I don’t know how he can… how he can just… just fucking end it like that! After everything we’ve been through! He’s one of my best friends, I can’t… I can’t just forget that, John!” Jesse felt tears roll down his cheeks, but he pushed on. “A piece of my fucking life is just gone, just like that! He might as well have taken an arm or a leg! Or my heart; I’ll not be needing that!”
Sobs caught in his throat and choked him, made him sputter incoherently, but no quantity of poetics could remedy the agony in his chest. John gathered him in his arms, safe, familiar John. Jesse could feel a little safer, here. He clutched the other boy. Jesse wrapped his arms around John and wept into his shoulder. He couldn’t feel embarrassed or foolish for falling apart, yet. The pain was still too near, and it still consumed him. He was only thankful that his friend was so understanding that he would drop everything to comfort Jesse. He had always known, but never really appreciated the lengths to which John would go for the sake of their friendship, and just to help Jesse. Jesse inhaled the fresh scent of John’s clean clothes and the underlying, comforting smell of his best friend’s skin, made up of soap and deodorant and sweat. John’s arms tightened around him, and he rubbed Jesse’s back and stroked his hair with his free hand. He turned his head into the skin of his neck.
“Does it always hurt like this?” Jesse asked.
John tried to pull back, but he held fast, and he quickly aborted the attempt. With his lips close enough to tickle his ear with his breath, John said softly, “Yeah. It usually does. But it gets better, Jess.”
“I don’t think it will,” Jesse muttered back.
“It might not feel like it now, but it does.”
“How do you know?”
John shrugged with the slightest movement of his shoulders. “I’ve been broken-hearted before, Jess.”
Jesse blinked. He backed up. John let him pull away and returned Jesse’s stare. Jesse hadn’t realized. Had John been in love before? And if so, with whom? Who’d broken his heart? “I’ve never felt like this before,” he said stupidly, but despite how it sounded, like he was being melodramatic and emo, Jesse was suddenly stricken by the fact that it was true. No girl had ever made him feel like this before. He’d never been so affected by a break-up.
“It gets better, Jesse,” John promised. “I know it hurts, but-”
“I can’t! I can’t handle this!”
“Yes you can!” John touched Jesse’s shoulder, a movement that shocked him because Jesse’s brain wasn’t keeping up right now. “You’ve broken up with a hundred girls-”
“But they aren’t him! He’s hilarious and funny, and he’s one of the best musicians I’ve ever met! He’s sarcastic and witty and arrogant, and he’s gorgeous! I can’t control myself when he’s around. He’s fun; I’m never bored with him, even when we’re just sitting and playing video games or watching TV or eating pizza! I can talk to him about anything in the world, and even when it isn’t sexual, I can touch him, and it isn’t weird. He’s my best friend! He’s just like-” Jesse stopped, and his wandering gaze stuck on John’s face. His dark eyes shone back at Jesse, eyebrows tilted in concern, lips parted slightly, waiting for the chance to reply or not yet closed from when he last spoke.
Jesse leant forward and kissed John. He wasn’t sure who was more surprised. John didn’t even have time to kiss back, still shocked into immobility until after Jesse relented. Even then, John didn’t move except to blink, although Jesse was sure that the action wasn’t borne from need to moisten his eyes as much as it was from the intention to hide the turning of wheels within his head from Jesse’s sight. Before he could speak, though, Jesse’s lips acted again.
In Jesse’s mind there was no thought, there was no reasoning but that John’s lips felt good, especially when they returned the kiss. His focus on moving his mouth just so, extending his tongue, catching John’s lips with his teeth soothed his mind like ointment for the gaping wound where his heart had once been.
“Jesse, wait-” He cut off John in the middle of whatever he was going to say- likely a protest of some kind- with another soul-sucking kiss. Jesse was satisfied when John moaned, but John pulled away almost immediately following. “Jess,” he said weakly.
“John, please!” His voice wavered vulnerably. John didn’t finish whatever he meant to say, which Jesse took for assent. His hand found John’s knee and inched higher, until the other boy’s eyes drifted out of focus, and Jesse thought it safe to kiss him again.
In minutes Jesse had him on his side. Their hips were flush with Jesse’s hand trapped in between them, his thumb defying the miniscule space between them to slide across John’s fly and abuse the bulge beneath it. His friend was breathing hard.
“John,” Jesse whispered. The other boy’s eyes drifted open, but Jesse kissed him again before he could regain his senses. This felt good, rubbing against his best friend, and Jesse really needed to feel good right now.
“Unh,” John groaned because Jesse had undone his fly and was now delving into the constraints of his jeans to take hold of his erection. Jesse bit John’s chin, then his throat, not hard enough to bruise, finally finding his earlobe. No sooner had Jesse started sucking on that then did John’s hands wildly seek Jesse’s fly, too.
He moaned into John’s throat when he pulled Jesse free of his trousers. He heard him whisper his name. The boy’s thumb caressed his head and smeared the droplets there across his skin so that he panted, and his teeth bit down slightly harder than he had intended, but it made John moan more loudly, which made the blood rush to Jesse’s cock. He grunted because he knew better than to cry out, even though he was getting close. Before he could be reminded of the repercussions that would follow were they to be discovered, John’s hand tightened, and he sped up. Jesse gasped and did the same until they were both hard pressed to muffle their sounds. Jesse kissed John again to drown the noises that they made in the wet heat of mouths and tongues. John answered with fervour, now completely uninhibited because regardless of his apprehensions about kissing his best friend while he was distraught, they had gone too far now to pretend he wasn’t enjoying himself.
When John’s moans started getting more frequent, and Jesse was beginning to have a hard time breathing and kissing at the same time, he pulled back from their kiss with a wet smack of lips.
“Oh, fuck, Jesse,” John mumbled. “I’m going to finish.”
Those words had some mystical effect on Jesse, maybe because he was a horny young man or maybe because he was already that close himself, for almost as soon as John said that, Jesse felt the familiar tension of impending climax begin to surge through him, too.
“Me, too.”
“Shit, Jesse!” John groaned, and with a jerk of his hips, he was coming in Jesse’s hand, with Jesse following almost immediately.
Post-coital bliss didn’t engulf him for long, though, because when Jesse’s head fell down onto the pillow, he remembered the way Brian would lazily blink at him and smile because he couldn’t speak so well immediately after an orgasm. Jesse felt his eyes fill with tears, again. He knew it was a shitty thing to do, and he felt like a bastard for it, but Jesse couldn’t strike the tears from his eyes. He tried his best to roll over and hide it from John, but his friend was too perceptive for his own good.
John’s unsoiled hand stroked back Jesse’s hair while he tried unsuccessfully to wipe his own tears away. John leaned over for the tissues on the desk to help him clean his other hand, when he didn’t make a move to acknowledge the tissues that he honestly hadn’t known John was offering.
“I’m sorry,” Jesse sputtered, covering his face. He tried to turn away, but John stopped him and pulled him into a hug. Gratefully, he wrapped his arms around his friend again and sobbed into his shirt. “I’m sorry!” he gasped.
“Shh” was John’s sole response.
Jesse didn’t know until the next morning, but he fell asleep in John’s arms with tears still drying on his cheeks.