It Never Gets Easier [12/13]
Title: It Never Gets Easier [12/13]
Author: likeanaccidentx
Pairing: Previous Adam Lazzara/John Nolan... Present? Adam Lazzara/Jesse Lacey.
Rating: R.
Summary:
The motel room is a wreck; it's small and dimly lit, and nothing in comparison with where you'd stayed in Florida, but you suppose it will do. You've stayed in worse places on tour anyway. You ignore the faulty light-switches, stained walls and grimy carpet, safe in the knowledge that you won't have to stay here for the night, or even for much longer than an hour, and take a seat in a lone armchair next to a wobbling coffee table. You put your head in your hands, letting out a drawn out sigh as you do so, still trying to figure out exactly what he could have to say to you.
You're still trying to figure out why you care about what he could possibly have to say to you, anyway.
Word count: 3,339
Disclaimer: Not real. Don’t know, don’t own.
Notes: A few.
[1] A chapter I actually semi-like? Maybe. Comments and concrit appreciated. <3. Again, I'm sorry for taking so long this week. Rough week. Eh.
[2] Gasp. Return of Jesse afterall? I hope you kids are happy now. <3. I suppose it was obvious.
[3] I realized a few chapters in that I actually messed up the timing of this story a little; John was married a long while before Fred left the band, and there's a brief mention of that in one of the earlier chapters. I know no one cares, because no one's pointed it out, but I felt the need to say it as it was annoying me slightly. Ha. So forgive me.
Dedication: Everyone reading and commenting this weird disjointed story. Thank you. ♥ You're all awesome. And yet again,
sunrisehighway7 because she helped out with this, and everything else that's hit me this week. And, well, she is simply... amazing. Thank you.
Previous parts: one // two // three // four // five // six // seven // eight // nine // ten // eleven
When you arrive at the motel he's not there, and so you pay for a room and ask the lady at the front desk to keep an eye out for him, tell him the room number when he arrives. She says that she will, and you give her his name, and you can't help but cringe at how strained your voice sounds as you do so. She looks at you curiously, and you brush it off with a warm smile and a "thank you" as you make your way out into the cold air to find your room, using the little map that the lady drew on a piece of notepad paper just for you. Hugging yourself against the cold, you light up a cigarette to calm your nerves as you walk the small, dark pathways.
The motel room is a wreck; it's small and dimly lit, and nothing in comparison with where you'd stayed in Florida, but you suppose it will do. You've stayed in worse places on tour anyway. You ignore the faulty light-switches, stained walls and grimy carpet, safe in the knowledge that you won't have to stay here for the night, or even for much longer than an hour, and take a seat in a lone armchair next to a wobbling coffee table. You put your head in your hands, letting out a drawn out sigh as you do so, still trying to figure out exactly what he could have to say to you.
You're still trying to figure out why you care about what he could possibly have to say to you, anyway.
There's a knock at the door, interrupting the flood of possibilities flowing through your mind. You raise your head from your hands and swallow hard, and you imagine this is exactly what you would have felt like the night John arrived in Florida, had you been awake enough to really take in what was happening. This time you're feeling wide awake; your heart is pounding, your palms are sweating, you're taking shaky nervous breaths, but all the while you're slowly getting to your feet and making your way cautiously across the motel room. You brush your sweating palms against your jeans and brace yourself before wrapping your long fingers around the door handle and pulling the door open.
And as you do so, those familiar eyes flick up from the ground; exhausted and pale, no longer that bright blue but a worn grey, and you let out a soft gasp as you look him up and down. He's traded in the button down shirts for a tattered hooded sweatshirt, and his once tall, sculpted hair is shorter, softer, curling slightly beneath a beanie hat. He shoves his hands into the pockets of his jeans, lowers his eyes to the ground again, and you can feel a change in the air surrounding him; his confident arrogance is nowhere to be seen. Instead, just like John, he's looking awkward and nervous. So you take the first step.
"Hi." You say, a tremble in your voice. He doesn't return the greeting. Instead his eyes drift to yours and he trails his tongue across his lower lip before walking past you, adjusting his hat as he goes.
"You look... Um. You look good." And you're half lying, because if you're honest, he looks like he's slowing falling apart. Still, he’s beautiful even now.
"You look different." He answers, looking you up and down. You nod awkwardly.
"Well, yeah." You say. "It's been four years, after all."
"I guess."
Jesse looks around awkwardly, taking in the dismal room before moving to sit on the edge of the bed. He looks up at you, drinking in your appearance and even when he's not so flawless, he has the ability to make you tremble where you stand. You cough awkwardly, directing your eyes to the ground.
"So, what was so important that you needed to call me out here?" You ask, attempting to sound solid, irritated even. That’s a lie. You’re relieved to see him, and trying to figure out why is already greatly troubling you. Jesse wastes no time getting straight to the point.
“Are you going to the wedding?” He asks.
You feel your heart sink.
“I… Well, no. I don’t think so.” You admit. Out of the corner of your eye, you see him nod. You look at him curiously. “Are you?”
Jesse leans forward, resting his elbows on his thighs where he sits, examining his hands as he shrugs, but no words pass his lips. So you continue, explain, hoping that maybe you’ll find some common ground with Jesse if you do, because you have a funny feeling that he’s the only person in the world who’ll have any idea what you’re going through, despite how hard others might try.
“I mean… I don’t know if I could? It’s just… It’s John. You know?”
“Yeah, I know.” Jesse nods, and you exhale in relief, waiting for him to expand on his feelings, but he shocks you instead. “But you’re back in touch with him, right?”
He looks up at you, eyebrows raised and you’re stunned for a moment.
“Well?”
“…Where’d you hear that?” You ask quietly. Jesse frowns.
“Well, you knew what I meant by ‘the wedding’.” He states.
“He sent me an invite -”
“And why would he send you an invite?” Jesse questions sharply. He’s holding eye contact with you, and he might not look as sharp as he used to, but he’s proving that his mind can still cut through your every excuse. You bite down on your lip and sigh.
“He called me recently.” You admit. Jesse lets out a bitter laugh, and you glare at him. “I don’t know why it’d be of interest to you, since apparently, you’ve been out of his life for quite some time.” Jesse looks hurt by this remark, so you quickly continue. “… He asked me to meet him.”
“I know.” He says.
“You know?” You ask.
“I saw you.” Jesse says awkwardly, rubbing the back of his neck, and you remember his face in the crowd that day you left John standing alone on the sidewalk.
“Oh…” You whisper. Jesse looks up at you, a sad smile on his face and despite how much of an asshole Jesse’s been to you in the past, the hurt in his eyes is killing you. “It wasn’t… like that.” You feel the need to clear it up.
“Yeah. I could see that.” Jesse mutters. He pauses for a moment, eyes fixated on you. Your cheeks are beginning to burn, but then “So… you don’t think he’s up to something?”
“Um… Up to something?”
“Sending wedding invitations to two exes?” Jesse suggests as though it’s obvious. You look at him with a puzzled expression and he sighs, exasperated. “You don’t think it’s a little strange? Like he’s looking for some kind of conflict.”
“I haven’t really allowed myself to think about it so much.” You admit with a shrug. “Maybe. I don’t know. He was weird in Florida. I mean -”
“You were in Florida with him?” Jesse frowns, and the hurt is creeping into the tone of his voice. You swallow hard.
“Oh… Yeah… He uh… Wanted to meet me somewhere, away from here, and he was in Georgia, and I had to fly in from Texas anyway. So he thought Florida -”
“Oh, I see.” Jesse mutters bitterly, taking off his hat and scratching the back of his head. “I must have missed my invitation to the secret get together then, I guess.”
“Jess…” You say softly. “He was just telling me about the wedding.”
“Yeah, I got told about the wedding, too.” Jesse spits. “On a piece of fucking paper.”
You refrain from pointing out the fact that in your case, John hadn’t spoken to you in years. He couldn’t very well just mail out an invitation with the way things were standing. Jesse’s seething with anger, so you remain silent for a while, allowing him to calm down, and then:
“I’m sorry.” You say.
There’s another drawn out silence. You’re staring at the floor and Jesse’s eyeing you, his gaze is slightly softer now. He smirks.
“I hate your hair.” He tells you, and you can’t help but smile, because it’s the first hint of the old Jesse that you’ve been met with all night.
“You’re an ass.” You tell him. You pause for a moment, watching him twirl his hat around his index finger, and then it hits you. “…So what did happen with you and him?”
Jesse raises his eyebrows. “Pardon?”
“I thought you two were all happy couple-y.” You explain. He stares at you. “At least, it certainly seemed that way. So… What went wrong?”
“…Have you met her?” Jesse asks, and you detect a shake in his voice. You shake your head.
“No.” You whisper. “No. I haven’t.”
“He um… met Camille while we were still…” Jesse trails off, ends with a shrug. He’s trying to brush off the pain, and you’re only too familiar with it.
“He didn’t…”
Jesse smirks softly, but there’s hurt behind it.
“Nolan.” He says, shaking his head as he looks up at you. “Purity personified.”
“It hurts, doesn’t it?” You mutter bitterly as you begin to pace the room. And you’re aware that this is neither the time nor the place, yet you can’t hold the words back. “Although, I suppose it was easier for me. At least I expected it from you.”
Jesse looks after you, stunned.
“What?”
“You. John. You don’t remember?” You spit. Jesse looks towards the ground guiltily as you continue. “Oh come on, Jesse. It was one of your proudest moments, wasn’t it?”
“I remember perfectly.” Jesse says quietly. “And I think you’ve got some wires crossed, Adam.”
“Oh right.” You laugh bitterly. “You told me you were going to fuck it up. Are you trying to tell me you didn’t now? ‘Cause I fucking saw you, Jess.”
“It wasn’t just me.” Jesse mutters.
“Well, no shit.”
“I’m sorry if he’s had you fooled for this long. Really.” Jesse’s voice is firm. “But John? John’s not a nice guy. And I know I’m not exactly a saint, but -”
“Are you trying to tell me you didn’t start this?” You snap, storming across the room until you’re standing directly above him. Jesse cranes his neck to look up at you. “That you didn’t go in there with full intent of fucking up my life? Of course John wasn’t going to push you away! He was still completely head over fucking heels in love with you. Everyone knew it. No surprises for me there, okay Jess?”
“Adam, I’m not gaining anything by lying to you. I’m in the same boat.” Jesse says calmly. His voice is sincere, and you feel the anger subside as you read from his eyes that he’s telling you the truth. “I didn’t start anything.”
You move away from him, return to the other side of the room where you slump down into the armchair once more. Jesse laughs sadly to himself.
"I even came back to make sure you were alright." He tells you. "I really didn't want you to get hurt, okay? I'm sorry."
So that's what that was.
You sit in stunned silence, trying to comprehend what Jesse just admitted to you.
He cares.
“You know what he said to me when I was packing my stuff and leaving?” He asks you. You shake your head. “…He said that I was overreacting. He said that if he knew I was going to be so possessive and neurotic, he wouldn’t have started it at all. He’s a charmer, huh?”
Your face softens as you watch him as he twirls his hat around his fingers.
“I don’t know what he’s doing,” Jesse tells you. “But if he thinks that inviting us both to the wedding means that at least one of us will try and stop him, I hope he’s mistaken.”
There’s a long pause, silence except for the sound of footsteps roaming down the pathway outside, voices of a family. You shake your head.
“I’m not stopping him.” You whisper.
“That makes two of us.” Jesse says, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. You raise your eyebrows, eyeing him suspiciously for a moment. You wonder what he could possibly find humorous in this situation.
“What?” You ask cautiously.
“Oh, I don’t know. There doesn’t have to be a reason for everything, Lazzara.” He says. “There’s certainly not one for that shirt.”
You roll your eyes and begin to laugh and Jesse smiles brightly, and you try to ignore the beat your heart just skipped when he did so.
“I’ve almost missed that.” You say.
“Left a gaping hole in your life, I’d bet.” Jesse laughs.
“So… how’d you know where I was staying anyway?” You ask. Jesse rolls his eyes.
“You’re fucking predictable.” Jesse grins. Your heart skips another beat, and this time you can’t ignore it, so you decide it’s best to bring this night to an end. You get to your feet awkwardly, and you’re sure you see a flicker of disappointment in Jesse’s eyes as you do so, but it’s probably just your imagination.
“I should… probably go.” You say. Jesse nods slowly, almost sadly, and gets to his feet. “I… left a note for Matt. He’ll be wondering where I am.”
“I see.” Jesse says. “Well, thanks for coming out.”
“It was good to see you.”
Jesse doesn’t say anything, just nods his head and stands rooted to the spot, so you smile awkwardly at him before heading for the door. You’ve just opened the door when a hand closes around your wrist.
“Adam…” Jesse whispers.
“…What?” You ask, looking back at him. Jesse exhales shakily, before pulling you to face him properly. Your breath hitches as he does so.
“Do you have anywhere you… really need to be?” He asks. “Or are you just making excuses to leave?”
“Well, I -” You begin to speak, but you trail off. Jesse smiles softly.
“I thought so.” He says, letting go of your wrist. “If you really want to go, you can. I’m not stopping you, but I’d really like it if you’d stay.”
His eyes are sincere and warm, pleading with you to stay and your skin is still tingling from his touch when he pulled you back. You’re thinking it over, really thinking over what this could lead to, but it doesn’t take you long to make up your mind.
You close the door.
And within seconds, Jesse’s kissing you, and you instantly feel like your heart is about to leap out of your chest, because if you’re honest, you’ve been craving him since the night in the alleyway when you rejected him, pushed him away from you, ran, despite how wrong it is. The kiss holds the same passion as the kiss of that night, but there’s a sweetness to it, a heavy sweetness that wasn’t there before. His hands are holding your waist firmly, as though to ensure that you don’t run away this time, but you’re not going anywhere. Instead of moving away from him, you wrap your arms around his neck and move against him, until you’re so close to him that you can almost feel his heartbeat as it races fiercely beneath his chest. He smiles into the kiss, relaxing his hands a little more.
He moves into you, so that you’re walking backwards until the back of your knees hit the edge of the bed and you fall gently back, and he’s climbing along with you, trying desperately not to pull away from your lips for even one second. Your hands are trailing along his back beneath his shirt, gentle touches against hot, smooth skin, and he pulls away to unbutton your button down shirt. And the concentration in his eyes amazes you, he seems so certain, so sure; and it makes you realize that it’s not only you who regretted the moment you walked away in the alleyway.
And you both know that this could never last, not long term. By morning, this will be over. But you both need it right now, and there’s a silent understanding that hangs in the air that says it’s okay; that this won’t mean a thing come tomorrow; that you both deserve this for all that you’ve been through.
You help him by gently pushing his hands away from your shirt for a moment, and Jesse looks hurt until he sees you removing it yourself. And you see that look of hurt turn to confusion over the fact that you’re still not running from the situation. You throw your shirt to the side, trail your fingers up his side, pulling at his sweater as you go. He helps, lifting his arms above his head and discarding his sweater, all the while still straddling your hips. He looks down to meet your eyes, and his are sparkling blue again, and you give him a weak, nervous smile before he leans down to kiss you again, soft and sweet. He pulls back for a moment, looks down at you with a concerned expression that makes your heart melt.
“Is this okay?” He asks you. And you have a funny feeling he’s not just talking about the current situation.
“It’s fine.” You assure him, before pulling him back down to your lips and smiling into the kiss.
* * *
It’s the sound of birds chirping outside that wakes you up early the next morning. You wait for your eyes to adjust as you recall the memory of last night. Jesse’s arms are still wrapped tightly around you, his head resting gently on top of yours, and you’re not sure why, but suddenly it aches just being in the room with him. You slip out of his arms carefully, succeeding in not waking him and gather your clothes. You dress quietly, and within minutes you’re gone, leaving nothing behind but your scent on the sheets next to Jesse and a note at the bedside, along with the motel key.
And maybe you should have stayed, but you couldn’t bare the thought of having to face him when he woke up.
You don’t return to Matt’s apartment straight away. You settle for roaming the streets of Manhattan for a while, allowing the sharp, cold air to wake you and thinking over the events of the past few weeks. Thinking over last night. Jesse’s gentle touches, soft kisses, caring glances.
You can’t make sense of any of it.
Finally, you slip in through the door of Matt’s apartment to find him making breakfast in the kitchen. The second he sees you, he drops everything and walks over to you.
“Where the hell have you been?” He demands to know, but there’s concern in his voice. “If you tell me you went to see him, I will kill you.”
“I was with Jesse.” You tell him. Matt’s face falls.
“Oh.”
You nod silently before making your way to the kitchen to make some coffee, leaving Matt trailing behind you, speechless. He eyes you suspiciously as he continues to make pancakes.
“How’d the date go?” You ask.
“Great,” He responds. “Meeting with her again today. What are your plans?”
He’s looking at you curiously, and you can tell he’s still wondering about Jesse. Perhaps he’s expecting you to explode, rant at him about what an asshole Jesse is like you have many times in the past. Or perhaps he’s expecting you to have plans with Jesse today; Matt’s smart, he can put two and two together. You were with Jesse last night, and you didn’t come home, and despite the hate you’ve always harboured from him, there’s always been a strange fascination that’s tagged along with it. Matt knows this.
“Me?” You ask. He nods, watching you intently and you smile. “I have a wedding to attend.”
Author: likeanaccidentx
Pairing: Previous Adam Lazzara/John Nolan... Present? Adam Lazzara/Jesse Lacey.
Rating: R.
Summary:
The motel room is a wreck; it's small and dimly lit, and nothing in comparison with where you'd stayed in Florida, but you suppose it will do. You've stayed in worse places on tour anyway. You ignore the faulty light-switches, stained walls and grimy carpet, safe in the knowledge that you won't have to stay here for the night, or even for much longer than an hour, and take a seat in a lone armchair next to a wobbling coffee table. You put your head in your hands, letting out a drawn out sigh as you do so, still trying to figure out exactly what he could have to say to you.
You're still trying to figure out why you care about what he could possibly have to say to you, anyway.
Word count: 3,339
Disclaimer: Not real. Don’t know, don’t own.
Notes: A few.
[1] A chapter I actually semi-like? Maybe. Comments and concrit appreciated. <3. Again, I'm sorry for taking so long this week. Rough week. Eh.
[2] Gasp. Return of Jesse afterall? I hope you kids are happy now. <3. I suppose it was obvious.
[3] I realized a few chapters in that I actually messed up the timing of this story a little; John was married a long while before Fred left the band, and there's a brief mention of that in one of the earlier chapters. I know no one cares, because no one's pointed it out, but I felt the need to say it as it was annoying me slightly. Ha. So forgive me.
Dedication: Everyone reading and commenting this weird disjointed story. Thank you. ♥ You're all awesome. And yet again,
sunrisehighway7 because she helped out with this, and everything else that's hit me this week. And, well, she is simply... amazing. Thank you.
Previous parts: one // two // three // four // five // six // seven // eight // nine // ten // eleven
When you arrive at the motel he's not there, and so you pay for a room and ask the lady at the front desk to keep an eye out for him, tell him the room number when he arrives. She says that she will, and you give her his name, and you can't help but cringe at how strained your voice sounds as you do so. She looks at you curiously, and you brush it off with a warm smile and a "thank you" as you make your way out into the cold air to find your room, using the little map that the lady drew on a piece of notepad paper just for you. Hugging yourself against the cold, you light up a cigarette to calm your nerves as you walk the small, dark pathways.
The motel room is a wreck; it's small and dimly lit, and nothing in comparison with where you'd stayed in Florida, but you suppose it will do. You've stayed in worse places on tour anyway. You ignore the faulty light-switches, stained walls and grimy carpet, safe in the knowledge that you won't have to stay here for the night, or even for much longer than an hour, and take a seat in a lone armchair next to a wobbling coffee table. You put your head in your hands, letting out a drawn out sigh as you do so, still trying to figure out exactly what he could have to say to you.
You're still trying to figure out why you care about what he could possibly have to say to you, anyway.
There's a knock at the door, interrupting the flood of possibilities flowing through your mind. You raise your head from your hands and swallow hard, and you imagine this is exactly what you would have felt like the night John arrived in Florida, had you been awake enough to really take in what was happening. This time you're feeling wide awake; your heart is pounding, your palms are sweating, you're taking shaky nervous breaths, but all the while you're slowly getting to your feet and making your way cautiously across the motel room. You brush your sweating palms against your jeans and brace yourself before wrapping your long fingers around the door handle and pulling the door open.
And as you do so, those familiar eyes flick up from the ground; exhausted and pale, no longer that bright blue but a worn grey, and you let out a soft gasp as you look him up and down. He's traded in the button down shirts for a tattered hooded sweatshirt, and his once tall, sculpted hair is shorter, softer, curling slightly beneath a beanie hat. He shoves his hands into the pockets of his jeans, lowers his eyes to the ground again, and you can feel a change in the air surrounding him; his confident arrogance is nowhere to be seen. Instead, just like John, he's looking awkward and nervous. So you take the first step.
"Hi." You say, a tremble in your voice. He doesn't return the greeting. Instead his eyes drift to yours and he trails his tongue across his lower lip before walking past you, adjusting his hat as he goes.
"You look... Um. You look good." And you're half lying, because if you're honest, he looks like he's slowing falling apart. Still, he’s beautiful even now.
"You look different." He answers, looking you up and down. You nod awkwardly.
"Well, yeah." You say. "It's been four years, after all."
"I guess."
Jesse looks around awkwardly, taking in the dismal room before moving to sit on the edge of the bed. He looks up at you, drinking in your appearance and even when he's not so flawless, he has the ability to make you tremble where you stand. You cough awkwardly, directing your eyes to the ground.
"So, what was so important that you needed to call me out here?" You ask, attempting to sound solid, irritated even. That’s a lie. You’re relieved to see him, and trying to figure out why is already greatly troubling you. Jesse wastes no time getting straight to the point.
“Are you going to the wedding?” He asks.
You feel your heart sink.
“I… Well, no. I don’t think so.” You admit. Out of the corner of your eye, you see him nod. You look at him curiously. “Are you?”
Jesse leans forward, resting his elbows on his thighs where he sits, examining his hands as he shrugs, but no words pass his lips. So you continue, explain, hoping that maybe you’ll find some common ground with Jesse if you do, because you have a funny feeling that he’s the only person in the world who’ll have any idea what you’re going through, despite how hard others might try.
“I mean… I don’t know if I could? It’s just… It’s John. You know?”
“Yeah, I know.” Jesse nods, and you exhale in relief, waiting for him to expand on his feelings, but he shocks you instead. “But you’re back in touch with him, right?”
He looks up at you, eyebrows raised and you’re stunned for a moment.
“Well?”
“…Where’d you hear that?” You ask quietly. Jesse frowns.
“Well, you knew what I meant by ‘the wedding’.” He states.
“He sent me an invite -”
“And why would he send you an invite?” Jesse questions sharply. He’s holding eye contact with you, and he might not look as sharp as he used to, but he’s proving that his mind can still cut through your every excuse. You bite down on your lip and sigh.
“He called me recently.” You admit. Jesse lets out a bitter laugh, and you glare at him. “I don’t know why it’d be of interest to you, since apparently, you’ve been out of his life for quite some time.” Jesse looks hurt by this remark, so you quickly continue. “… He asked me to meet him.”
“I know.” He says.
“You know?” You ask.
“I saw you.” Jesse says awkwardly, rubbing the back of his neck, and you remember his face in the crowd that day you left John standing alone on the sidewalk.
“Oh…” You whisper. Jesse looks up at you, a sad smile on his face and despite how much of an asshole Jesse’s been to you in the past, the hurt in his eyes is killing you. “It wasn’t… like that.” You feel the need to clear it up.
“Yeah. I could see that.” Jesse mutters. He pauses for a moment, eyes fixated on you. Your cheeks are beginning to burn, but then “So… you don’t think he’s up to something?”
“Um… Up to something?”
“Sending wedding invitations to two exes?” Jesse suggests as though it’s obvious. You look at him with a puzzled expression and he sighs, exasperated. “You don’t think it’s a little strange? Like he’s looking for some kind of conflict.”
“I haven’t really allowed myself to think about it so much.” You admit with a shrug. “Maybe. I don’t know. He was weird in Florida. I mean -”
“You were in Florida with him?” Jesse frowns, and the hurt is creeping into the tone of his voice. You swallow hard.
“Oh… Yeah… He uh… Wanted to meet me somewhere, away from here, and he was in Georgia, and I had to fly in from Texas anyway. So he thought Florida -”
“Oh, I see.” Jesse mutters bitterly, taking off his hat and scratching the back of his head. “I must have missed my invitation to the secret get together then, I guess.”
“Jess…” You say softly. “He was just telling me about the wedding.”
“Yeah, I got told about the wedding, too.” Jesse spits. “On a piece of fucking paper.”
You refrain from pointing out the fact that in your case, John hadn’t spoken to you in years. He couldn’t very well just mail out an invitation with the way things were standing. Jesse’s seething with anger, so you remain silent for a while, allowing him to calm down, and then:
“I’m sorry.” You say.
There’s another drawn out silence. You’re staring at the floor and Jesse’s eyeing you, his gaze is slightly softer now. He smirks.
“I hate your hair.” He tells you, and you can’t help but smile, because it’s the first hint of the old Jesse that you’ve been met with all night.
“You’re an ass.” You tell him. You pause for a moment, watching him twirl his hat around his index finger, and then it hits you. “…So what did happen with you and him?”
Jesse raises his eyebrows. “Pardon?”
“I thought you two were all happy couple-y.” You explain. He stares at you. “At least, it certainly seemed that way. So… What went wrong?”
“…Have you met her?” Jesse asks, and you detect a shake in his voice. You shake your head.
“No.” You whisper. “No. I haven’t.”
“He um… met Camille while we were still…” Jesse trails off, ends with a shrug. He’s trying to brush off the pain, and you’re only too familiar with it.
“He didn’t…”
Jesse smirks softly, but there’s hurt behind it.
“Nolan.” He says, shaking his head as he looks up at you. “Purity personified.”
“It hurts, doesn’t it?” You mutter bitterly as you begin to pace the room. And you’re aware that this is neither the time nor the place, yet you can’t hold the words back. “Although, I suppose it was easier for me. At least I expected it from you.”
Jesse looks after you, stunned.
“What?”
“You. John. You don’t remember?” You spit. Jesse looks towards the ground guiltily as you continue. “Oh come on, Jesse. It was one of your proudest moments, wasn’t it?”
“I remember perfectly.” Jesse says quietly. “And I think you’ve got some wires crossed, Adam.”
“Oh right.” You laugh bitterly. “You told me you were going to fuck it up. Are you trying to tell me you didn’t now? ‘Cause I fucking saw you, Jess.”
“It wasn’t just me.” Jesse mutters.
“Well, no shit.”
“I’m sorry if he’s had you fooled for this long. Really.” Jesse’s voice is firm. “But John? John’s not a nice guy. And I know I’m not exactly a saint, but -”
“Are you trying to tell me you didn’t start this?” You snap, storming across the room until you’re standing directly above him. Jesse cranes his neck to look up at you. “That you didn’t go in there with full intent of fucking up my life? Of course John wasn’t going to push you away! He was still completely head over fucking heels in love with you. Everyone knew it. No surprises for me there, okay Jess?”
“Adam, I’m not gaining anything by lying to you. I’m in the same boat.” Jesse says calmly. His voice is sincere, and you feel the anger subside as you read from his eyes that he’s telling you the truth. “I didn’t start anything.”
You move away from him, return to the other side of the room where you slump down into the armchair once more. Jesse laughs sadly to himself.
"I even came back to make sure you were alright." He tells you. "I really didn't want you to get hurt, okay? I'm sorry."
So that's what that was.
You sit in stunned silence, trying to comprehend what Jesse just admitted to you.
He cares.
“You know what he said to me when I was packing my stuff and leaving?” He asks you. You shake your head. “…He said that I was overreacting. He said that if he knew I was going to be so possessive and neurotic, he wouldn’t have started it at all. He’s a charmer, huh?”
Your face softens as you watch him as he twirls his hat around his fingers.
“I don’t know what he’s doing,” Jesse tells you. “But if he thinks that inviting us both to the wedding means that at least one of us will try and stop him, I hope he’s mistaken.”
There’s a long pause, silence except for the sound of footsteps roaming down the pathway outside, voices of a family. You shake your head.
“I’m not stopping him.” You whisper.
“That makes two of us.” Jesse says, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. You raise your eyebrows, eyeing him suspiciously for a moment. You wonder what he could possibly find humorous in this situation.
“What?” You ask cautiously.
“Oh, I don’t know. There doesn’t have to be a reason for everything, Lazzara.” He says. “There’s certainly not one for that shirt.”
You roll your eyes and begin to laugh and Jesse smiles brightly, and you try to ignore the beat your heart just skipped when he did so.
“I’ve almost missed that.” You say.
“Left a gaping hole in your life, I’d bet.” Jesse laughs.
“So… how’d you know where I was staying anyway?” You ask. Jesse rolls his eyes.
“You’re fucking predictable.” Jesse grins. Your heart skips another beat, and this time you can’t ignore it, so you decide it’s best to bring this night to an end. You get to your feet awkwardly, and you’re sure you see a flicker of disappointment in Jesse’s eyes as you do so, but it’s probably just your imagination.
“I should… probably go.” You say. Jesse nods slowly, almost sadly, and gets to his feet. “I… left a note for Matt. He’ll be wondering where I am.”
“I see.” Jesse says. “Well, thanks for coming out.”
“It was good to see you.”
Jesse doesn’t say anything, just nods his head and stands rooted to the spot, so you smile awkwardly at him before heading for the door. You’ve just opened the door when a hand closes around your wrist.
“Adam…” Jesse whispers.
“…What?” You ask, looking back at him. Jesse exhales shakily, before pulling you to face him properly. Your breath hitches as he does so.
“Do you have anywhere you… really need to be?” He asks. “Or are you just making excuses to leave?”
“Well, I -” You begin to speak, but you trail off. Jesse smiles softly.
“I thought so.” He says, letting go of your wrist. “If you really want to go, you can. I’m not stopping you, but I’d really like it if you’d stay.”
His eyes are sincere and warm, pleading with you to stay and your skin is still tingling from his touch when he pulled you back. You’re thinking it over, really thinking over what this could lead to, but it doesn’t take you long to make up your mind.
You close the door.
And within seconds, Jesse’s kissing you, and you instantly feel like your heart is about to leap out of your chest, because if you’re honest, you’ve been craving him since the night in the alleyway when you rejected him, pushed him away from you, ran, despite how wrong it is. The kiss holds the same passion as the kiss of that night, but there’s a sweetness to it, a heavy sweetness that wasn’t there before. His hands are holding your waist firmly, as though to ensure that you don’t run away this time, but you’re not going anywhere. Instead of moving away from him, you wrap your arms around his neck and move against him, until you’re so close to him that you can almost feel his heartbeat as it races fiercely beneath his chest. He smiles into the kiss, relaxing his hands a little more.
He moves into you, so that you’re walking backwards until the back of your knees hit the edge of the bed and you fall gently back, and he’s climbing along with you, trying desperately not to pull away from your lips for even one second. Your hands are trailing along his back beneath his shirt, gentle touches against hot, smooth skin, and he pulls away to unbutton your button down shirt. And the concentration in his eyes amazes you, he seems so certain, so sure; and it makes you realize that it’s not only you who regretted the moment you walked away in the alleyway.
And you both know that this could never last, not long term. By morning, this will be over. But you both need it right now, and there’s a silent understanding that hangs in the air that says it’s okay; that this won’t mean a thing come tomorrow; that you both deserve this for all that you’ve been through.
You help him by gently pushing his hands away from your shirt for a moment, and Jesse looks hurt until he sees you removing it yourself. And you see that look of hurt turn to confusion over the fact that you’re still not running from the situation. You throw your shirt to the side, trail your fingers up his side, pulling at his sweater as you go. He helps, lifting his arms above his head and discarding his sweater, all the while still straddling your hips. He looks down to meet your eyes, and his are sparkling blue again, and you give him a weak, nervous smile before he leans down to kiss you again, soft and sweet. He pulls back for a moment, looks down at you with a concerned expression that makes your heart melt.
“Is this okay?” He asks you. And you have a funny feeling he’s not just talking about the current situation.
“It’s fine.” You assure him, before pulling him back down to your lips and smiling into the kiss.
* * *
It’s the sound of birds chirping outside that wakes you up early the next morning. You wait for your eyes to adjust as you recall the memory of last night. Jesse’s arms are still wrapped tightly around you, his head resting gently on top of yours, and you’re not sure why, but suddenly it aches just being in the room with him. You slip out of his arms carefully, succeeding in not waking him and gather your clothes. You dress quietly, and within minutes you’re gone, leaving nothing behind but your scent on the sheets next to Jesse and a note at the bedside, along with the motel key.
And maybe you should have stayed, but you couldn’t bare the thought of having to face him when he woke up.
You don’t return to Matt’s apartment straight away. You settle for roaming the streets of Manhattan for a while, allowing the sharp, cold air to wake you and thinking over the events of the past few weeks. Thinking over last night. Jesse’s gentle touches, soft kisses, caring glances.
You can’t make sense of any of it.
Finally, you slip in through the door of Matt’s apartment to find him making breakfast in the kitchen. The second he sees you, he drops everything and walks over to you.
“Where the hell have you been?” He demands to know, but there’s concern in his voice. “If you tell me you went to see him, I will kill you.”
“I was with Jesse.” You tell him. Matt’s face falls.
“Oh.”
You nod silently before making your way to the kitchen to make some coffee, leaving Matt trailing behind you, speechless. He eyes you suspiciously as he continues to make pancakes.
“How’d the date go?” You ask.
“Great,” He responds. “Meeting with her again today. What are your plans?”
He’s looking at you curiously, and you can tell he’s still wondering about Jesse. Perhaps he’s expecting you to explode, rant at him about what an asshole Jesse is like you have many times in the past. Or perhaps he’s expecting you to have plans with Jesse today; Matt’s smart, he can put two and two together. You were with Jesse last night, and you didn’t come home, and despite the hate you’ve always harboured from him, there’s always been a strange fascination that’s tagged along with it. Matt knows this.
“Me?” You ask. He nods, watching you intently and you smile. “I have a wedding to attend.”