With One Kiss
Title: With One Kiss
Bands: Brand New [Jesse], John & Michelle [Straylight Run], Adam [Taking Back Sunday]
Genre: drama
Rating: R
Summary: One kiss… one simple kiss could make or break lives. Could complicate even the simplest things. Could corrupt a lifelong friendship. Could tear apart even the closest relationships. Could send a group of teenagers on a trip they aren’t prepared to take - physically or mentally.
Disclaimer: Don't own Jesse. Don't own Adam, John, or Michelle. Don't own any others members of Taking Back Sunday that may appear. I do, however, own all original characters. But that really doesn't matter, now does it? lol.
Warnings: some m/m, mature plot, adult language, might be a little slow starting off
With One Kiss
I.
"Ugh, dude. If I gotta climb that rope again one more time, I’m gonna pull it down and strangle O’Donnell with it," Jesse joked as he tugged his shirt up over his head and threw it into his locker, grabbing his deodorant.
"At least you’re not outside freezing your balls off doing sit ups," John told him, watching him as he pulled a dry, white t-shirt on and dropped his shorts.
"That’d be because I’m not a wimp and can climb the rope," Jesse grinned, shoving his shoulder and stepping out of his gym shorts. John rolled his eyes and began to change out of his clothes as a tall, muscular guy rounded the corner and sauntered towards them.
"Hello ladies," he taunted, smile wide, gum cracking, as he leaned his weight against the row of lockers, slamming John’s open one shut.
"Dude," Jesse and John both said simultaneously, Jesse giving a last tug on his jeans and John finishing buttoning his shirt.
"Aww, how cute. They both say the same thing at the same time now, guys!" the senior in front of them called out. To this, a few more boys their age came around the corner of the lockers from both ends.
"Get lost, Nichols," Jesse growled, stepping towards him, buckling his belt, shuffling his sock clad feet across the dusty, red locker room floor. He threw John’s locker open, smashing it against the other lockers, just missing crushing Ryan Nichols’ hand.
"I guess we know who the man of this relationship is, don’t we, boys?" the slightly bigger man joked, forcing himself off the lockers and stepping chest to chest with Jesse. "Boyfriend can’t fight his own fights?" he asked, his face so close to Jesse’s that Jesse could smell the gum in his mouth. Cinnamon.
"There’s no fight," Jesse said with a shrug, turning his back to him and shoving his feet in his shoes. "And he’s not my boyfriend," he finished, shrugging again, knowing that no matter what he and John said, they’d be teased the next period anyway. It wasn’t even teasing anymore. It was everyone else trying to come up with new jokes and failing to be funny when a thought actually did pop into their hollow little heads. So what if the two were close? Spent nearly every minute together? Joked around - in many ways - a lot? That didn’t mean they were together. Just meant they were close. If two girls were like them, nothing would be thought of it. But that was it -- that was girls. They were boys. Men, sort of. And for that, they were taunted and teased, accused and assumed. Same thing, every day.
"You know what, Lacey?" Nichols said, looking between the two as John rolled his eyes, mimicking him.
"What?" Jesse asked, checking his hair in the mirror in his locker and slamming it closed, grabbing his backpack and throwing it over his shoulder. "Hurry up," he told John, who nodded, stepping one foot onto the bench in the middle of the rows of lockers and bending over to tie his shoe. One of the guys behind him took full advantage of the opportunity that had arisen and reached out, smacking his ass. At the sound of the crack, Jesse raised his eyebrow and turned slowly, taking in the scene of John, rubbing the slight sting out of his behind and the guys behind him laughing, giggling almost. "I honestly don’t think we’re the ones you need to be calling gay, Nichols," Jesse said, motioning to the guys grouped behind John.
"Fuck off, Lacey," Nichols spoke quickly. He looked to the guys behind John, who quickly looked over at him, ready for whatever order he gave. They were his posse. His people. He was the king and his thrown was huge and shiny. They bowed down to him. Typical. "Get lost, fags," he said, his voice full of disgust.
Jesse rolled his eyes and John grabbed his backpack. "What’d you want?" he asked, checking his watch. Two minutes until the bell. If he had something to say, he better say it quick.
He opened his mouth to speak, but quickly closed it, the thought he’d had previously escaping his mind. "Forget it," he said with a shrug. "I gotta get to class anyway. I’ll see you two girls later," he said, patting John’s back as he walked by.
"You know…" John started as he followed Jesse out of the locker room.
"Yeah, I know," Jesse sighed, waving to someone who waved to him as they passed. "He’s an ass. Don’t worry about him," he told John as they turned a corner to their locker hall.
"Do you really -- oh, hey, man," John cut his question short as he stopped abruptly to shake the hand of a friend, decked out in his football jersey. "Is there a game tonight?" he asked Jesse as they continued to walk.
"Yeah, it’s … uh… heh," he paused walking, poking a girl in the side as she reached up to get books out of the top row of her locker. "What time’s the game tonight, and where?" he asked her, leaning against the locker next to hers. She smiled sweetly as she answered his questions and handed him her books to hold as she reached for more. John watched as the two flirted for a minute or so and shook his head, smiling. How could they possibly get teased so much about being gay when Jesse went around doing this all day, every day? And he couldn’t say he didn’t do the same, because he did. The two were both pretty high ranked in their senior class, respect and grade wise. They were both known throughout the school, had a million friends, or so it seemed, and weren’t jerks about it. They weren’t quiet, they weren’t antisocial, they weren’t "different". They were normal kids. With normal friends. And normal lives. No one - especially Ryan Nichols and his lovely little worshippers - had any grounds to really tease them on. But still, he did it. And they did nothing about it. Let him think what he wants. Let everyone think what they want. It didn’t really bother them. Because they knew the truth. They were friends. Best friends. Nothing more, nothing less.
"You done, lover boy?" John asked, wiggling his eyebrows, as Jesse joined him again, waving to the girl who’d just given him her phone number.
"Oui," Jesse said, stopping at his own locker and throwing it open. "I am just TOO good to be true," he said sarcastically to himself, inspecting his hair - yet again - in another mirror in the top part of his locker.
"Yeah, you’re a real Romeo," John said with a slight laugh as he exchanged his morning books with his afternoon ones. He slammed his locker closed, spun the lock, and turned towards Jesse, who was staring down at his hand. The hand the girl from earlier had just written her number on. "Not gonna keep that one either, huh?" John asked as Jesse raised his finger to his tongue.
"Uh uh," Jesse responded, licking his finger and lowering it to the top of his left hand, rubbing out the black penned numbers with his saliva. He wiped his hands on his jeans and grabbed a book before closing his locker and nodding his head down the hall, suggesting they get going. "Not worth it," he shrugged as John fell in step with him as they shoved open a pair of swinging doors. Really, it wasn’t worth it. It was senior year. Why get a girlfriend? If it seemed like it was going to last, it’d just have to end anyway. He could honestly say he wasn’t one for long distance relationships and with college coming up, that’d most likely be the case.
"We probably should start dating," John pointed out as Jesse began to flip through the book in his hand, searching for his lost homework assignment. "Don’t you think?"
"Why?" Jesse mumbled, shoving a pen in between his teeth and turning the book over, shaking it. Small papers fluttered to the ground, bits and pieces of notes he’d passed during his 6th period AP English class with various people. New girl, every day. New phone numbers, every day. All thrown away. All forgotten. All unwanted.
"Cuz…" John drifted off for a second, grabbing Jesse’s arm and pulling him out of the way of two younger kids struggling to carry an aquarium down the hall in the direction of the science hall. Jesse looked up from his page by page search of the book just long enough to give him a thankful grin before going back to his shifting. "Cuz," John began again. "People probably do think we’re gay…" he said, somewhat quietly.
"Is there a problem with that?" Jesse asked, pushing him with his shoulder towards a darker stairwell. "I wanna go this way. It’ll gimme more time to find this."
"You’ve got all lunch period to find it. And knowing you, I probably have it. I’ll look when we get down there," he told him, holding the door open for him and shutting it behind them. He felt around the grimy, cool walls for a light switch and pushed it in when he found it. "Ugh," he got out, disgusted, as they began to descend the stairs. "And no, there’s not a problem with it. I just don’t like Nichols saying all that shit." He paused for a second, remembering what he was going to say earlier. "Speaking of Nichols… do I really let you fight my fights for me?" he asked, having taking the comment Nichols had made as an insult.
"I don’t think you do. You’ve got a big mouth. You can fight. Believe me, I know," Jesse said, looking over at him and winking. "And like I said before, man. Don’t worry about him. He just likes looking big and buff and tough and all that stupid shit. He’s an ass."
"Yeah, yeah. I know," John sighed, running his hand through his short hair and turning, opening the door at the bottom of the dark stairs with his backside. "Yeah, he’s a jerk. I’m done with that," he said, trying to convince himself of it. He didn’t know why it bothered him. He really wasn’t bothered by anyone thinking he was gay or that he and Jesse were together in a more-than-friends way. So, he didn’t know what was up.
"But if you wanna start dating, go ahead. You don’t need my permission. Maybe I’ll hook up or something, too. I duno. Don’t really care for it right now," Jesse shrugged, sighing and rolling his neck, snapping the book closed. "I can’t find it," he groaned as they entered the cafeteria.
"I’ll look," John laughed, throwing his backpack onto their lunch table and yanking out his English book. Nearly two seconds later, the front cover was open and his and Jesse’s assignments were on the table in front of them. "See, I told you," he said, sliding Jesse’s over to the next seat, where he sat, jaw dropped in sarcasm.
"Well aren’t you just perfect," he said, rolling his eyes and snatching the paper, shoving it into his book. "Fuck you," he said, standing from the seat he’d taken less than a minute before hand.
"Yeah, fuck me," John laughed, shooting back with his normal comeback.
"Where, when, and how hard?" Jesse replied as the other guys at their table approached. Eyebrows were raised, heads were shook, and weird glances were exchanged. But this was nothing new.
"Tonight, football game, and as hard as ---"
"Enough!" one of the guys at the table called out, setting his lunch down forcefully on the table. The others laughed while the one continued to point at them. "You two… are the sickest fags I’ve ever met," he told them, sitting down as they exchanged knowing looks. It was time to put their skills to use.
"Speaking of the game tonight…" Jesse drifted off, leaning on the top of the garbage can behind him. "You wanna go?" he asked, reaching an arm out and slipping a finger through John’s belt loop, pulling him towards him.
"Of course," John grinned, not backing away.
"It’s a date," Jesse said loudly, grabbing the back of his head and pulling his face closer, at the last minute, twisting his hand and pulling John’s hair. John fought him off and they went off to the lunch line, beating each other the on the way.
Bands: Brand New [Jesse], John & Michelle [Straylight Run], Adam [Taking Back Sunday]
Genre: drama
Rating: R
Summary: One kiss… one simple kiss could make or break lives. Could complicate even the simplest things. Could corrupt a lifelong friendship. Could tear apart even the closest relationships. Could send a group of teenagers on a trip they aren’t prepared to take - physically or mentally.
Disclaimer: Don't own Jesse. Don't own Adam, John, or Michelle. Don't own any others members of Taking Back Sunday that may appear. I do, however, own all original characters. But that really doesn't matter, now does it? lol.
Warnings: some m/m, mature plot, adult language, might be a little slow starting off
With One Kiss
I.
"Ugh, dude. If I gotta climb that rope again one more time, I’m gonna pull it down and strangle O’Donnell with it," Jesse joked as he tugged his shirt up over his head and threw it into his locker, grabbing his deodorant.
"At least you’re not outside freezing your balls off doing sit ups," John told him, watching him as he pulled a dry, white t-shirt on and dropped his shorts.
"That’d be because I’m not a wimp and can climb the rope," Jesse grinned, shoving his shoulder and stepping out of his gym shorts. John rolled his eyes and began to change out of his clothes as a tall, muscular guy rounded the corner and sauntered towards them.
"Hello ladies," he taunted, smile wide, gum cracking, as he leaned his weight against the row of lockers, slamming John’s open one shut.
"Dude," Jesse and John both said simultaneously, Jesse giving a last tug on his jeans and John finishing buttoning his shirt.
"Aww, how cute. They both say the same thing at the same time now, guys!" the senior in front of them called out. To this, a few more boys their age came around the corner of the lockers from both ends.
"Get lost, Nichols," Jesse growled, stepping towards him, buckling his belt, shuffling his sock clad feet across the dusty, red locker room floor. He threw John’s locker open, smashing it against the other lockers, just missing crushing Ryan Nichols’ hand.
"I guess we know who the man of this relationship is, don’t we, boys?" the slightly bigger man joked, forcing himself off the lockers and stepping chest to chest with Jesse. "Boyfriend can’t fight his own fights?" he asked, his face so close to Jesse’s that Jesse could smell the gum in his mouth. Cinnamon.
"There’s no fight," Jesse said with a shrug, turning his back to him and shoving his feet in his shoes. "And he’s not my boyfriend," he finished, shrugging again, knowing that no matter what he and John said, they’d be teased the next period anyway. It wasn’t even teasing anymore. It was everyone else trying to come up with new jokes and failing to be funny when a thought actually did pop into their hollow little heads. So what if the two were close? Spent nearly every minute together? Joked around - in many ways - a lot? That didn’t mean they were together. Just meant they were close. If two girls were like them, nothing would be thought of it. But that was it -- that was girls. They were boys. Men, sort of. And for that, they were taunted and teased, accused and assumed. Same thing, every day.
"You know what, Lacey?" Nichols said, looking between the two as John rolled his eyes, mimicking him.
"What?" Jesse asked, checking his hair in the mirror in his locker and slamming it closed, grabbing his backpack and throwing it over his shoulder. "Hurry up," he told John, who nodded, stepping one foot onto the bench in the middle of the rows of lockers and bending over to tie his shoe. One of the guys behind him took full advantage of the opportunity that had arisen and reached out, smacking his ass. At the sound of the crack, Jesse raised his eyebrow and turned slowly, taking in the scene of John, rubbing the slight sting out of his behind and the guys behind him laughing, giggling almost. "I honestly don’t think we’re the ones you need to be calling gay, Nichols," Jesse said, motioning to the guys grouped behind John.
"Fuck off, Lacey," Nichols spoke quickly. He looked to the guys behind John, who quickly looked over at him, ready for whatever order he gave. They were his posse. His people. He was the king and his thrown was huge and shiny. They bowed down to him. Typical. "Get lost, fags," he said, his voice full of disgust.
Jesse rolled his eyes and John grabbed his backpack. "What’d you want?" he asked, checking his watch. Two minutes until the bell. If he had something to say, he better say it quick.
He opened his mouth to speak, but quickly closed it, the thought he’d had previously escaping his mind. "Forget it," he said with a shrug. "I gotta get to class anyway. I’ll see you two girls later," he said, patting John’s back as he walked by.
"You know…" John started as he followed Jesse out of the locker room.
"Yeah, I know," Jesse sighed, waving to someone who waved to him as they passed. "He’s an ass. Don’t worry about him," he told John as they turned a corner to their locker hall.
"Do you really -- oh, hey, man," John cut his question short as he stopped abruptly to shake the hand of a friend, decked out in his football jersey. "Is there a game tonight?" he asked Jesse as they continued to walk.
"Yeah, it’s … uh… heh," he paused walking, poking a girl in the side as she reached up to get books out of the top row of her locker. "What time’s the game tonight, and where?" he asked her, leaning against the locker next to hers. She smiled sweetly as she answered his questions and handed him her books to hold as she reached for more. John watched as the two flirted for a minute or so and shook his head, smiling. How could they possibly get teased so much about being gay when Jesse went around doing this all day, every day? And he couldn’t say he didn’t do the same, because he did. The two were both pretty high ranked in their senior class, respect and grade wise. They were both known throughout the school, had a million friends, or so it seemed, and weren’t jerks about it. They weren’t quiet, they weren’t antisocial, they weren’t "different". They were normal kids. With normal friends. And normal lives. No one - especially Ryan Nichols and his lovely little worshippers - had any grounds to really tease them on. But still, he did it. And they did nothing about it. Let him think what he wants. Let everyone think what they want. It didn’t really bother them. Because they knew the truth. They were friends. Best friends. Nothing more, nothing less.
"You done, lover boy?" John asked, wiggling his eyebrows, as Jesse joined him again, waving to the girl who’d just given him her phone number.
"Oui," Jesse said, stopping at his own locker and throwing it open. "I am just TOO good to be true," he said sarcastically to himself, inspecting his hair - yet again - in another mirror in the top part of his locker.
"Yeah, you’re a real Romeo," John said with a slight laugh as he exchanged his morning books with his afternoon ones. He slammed his locker closed, spun the lock, and turned towards Jesse, who was staring down at his hand. The hand the girl from earlier had just written her number on. "Not gonna keep that one either, huh?" John asked as Jesse raised his finger to his tongue.
"Uh uh," Jesse responded, licking his finger and lowering it to the top of his left hand, rubbing out the black penned numbers with his saliva. He wiped his hands on his jeans and grabbed a book before closing his locker and nodding his head down the hall, suggesting they get going. "Not worth it," he shrugged as John fell in step with him as they shoved open a pair of swinging doors. Really, it wasn’t worth it. It was senior year. Why get a girlfriend? If it seemed like it was going to last, it’d just have to end anyway. He could honestly say he wasn’t one for long distance relationships and with college coming up, that’d most likely be the case.
"We probably should start dating," John pointed out as Jesse began to flip through the book in his hand, searching for his lost homework assignment. "Don’t you think?"
"Why?" Jesse mumbled, shoving a pen in between his teeth and turning the book over, shaking it. Small papers fluttered to the ground, bits and pieces of notes he’d passed during his 6th period AP English class with various people. New girl, every day. New phone numbers, every day. All thrown away. All forgotten. All unwanted.
"Cuz…" John drifted off for a second, grabbing Jesse’s arm and pulling him out of the way of two younger kids struggling to carry an aquarium down the hall in the direction of the science hall. Jesse looked up from his page by page search of the book just long enough to give him a thankful grin before going back to his shifting. "Cuz," John began again. "People probably do think we’re gay…" he said, somewhat quietly.
"Is there a problem with that?" Jesse asked, pushing him with his shoulder towards a darker stairwell. "I wanna go this way. It’ll gimme more time to find this."
"You’ve got all lunch period to find it. And knowing you, I probably have it. I’ll look when we get down there," he told him, holding the door open for him and shutting it behind them. He felt around the grimy, cool walls for a light switch and pushed it in when he found it. "Ugh," he got out, disgusted, as they began to descend the stairs. "And no, there’s not a problem with it. I just don’t like Nichols saying all that shit." He paused for a second, remembering what he was going to say earlier. "Speaking of Nichols… do I really let you fight my fights for me?" he asked, having taking the comment Nichols had made as an insult.
"I don’t think you do. You’ve got a big mouth. You can fight. Believe me, I know," Jesse said, looking over at him and winking. "And like I said before, man. Don’t worry about him. He just likes looking big and buff and tough and all that stupid shit. He’s an ass."
"Yeah, yeah. I know," John sighed, running his hand through his short hair and turning, opening the door at the bottom of the dark stairs with his backside. "Yeah, he’s a jerk. I’m done with that," he said, trying to convince himself of it. He didn’t know why it bothered him. He really wasn’t bothered by anyone thinking he was gay or that he and Jesse were together in a more-than-friends way. So, he didn’t know what was up.
"But if you wanna start dating, go ahead. You don’t need my permission. Maybe I’ll hook up or something, too. I duno. Don’t really care for it right now," Jesse shrugged, sighing and rolling his neck, snapping the book closed. "I can’t find it," he groaned as they entered the cafeteria.
"I’ll look," John laughed, throwing his backpack onto their lunch table and yanking out his English book. Nearly two seconds later, the front cover was open and his and Jesse’s assignments were on the table in front of them. "See, I told you," he said, sliding Jesse’s over to the next seat, where he sat, jaw dropped in sarcasm.
"Well aren’t you just perfect," he said, rolling his eyes and snatching the paper, shoving it into his book. "Fuck you," he said, standing from the seat he’d taken less than a minute before hand.
"Yeah, fuck me," John laughed, shooting back with his normal comeback.
"Where, when, and how hard?" Jesse replied as the other guys at their table approached. Eyebrows were raised, heads were shook, and weird glances were exchanged. But this was nothing new.
"Tonight, football game, and as hard as ---"
"Enough!" one of the guys at the table called out, setting his lunch down forcefully on the table. The others laughed while the one continued to point at them. "You two… are the sickest fags I’ve ever met," he told them, sitting down as they exchanged knowing looks. It was time to put their skills to use.
"Speaking of the game tonight…" Jesse drifted off, leaning on the top of the garbage can behind him. "You wanna go?" he asked, reaching an arm out and slipping a finger through John’s belt loop, pulling him towards him.
"Of course," John grinned, not backing away.
"It’s a date," Jesse said loudly, grabbing the back of his head and pulling his face closer, at the last minute, twisting his hand and pulling John’s hair. John fought him off and they went off to the lunch line, beating each other the on the way.