It Never Gets Easier [4/?]
Title: It Never Gets Easier [4/?]
Author: likeanaccidentx
Pairing: Adam Lazzara/John Nolan. Mentions of others.
Rating: PG13.
Summary: JohnandJesse. JesseandJohn. NolanandLacey. LaceyandNolan. Take your pick. That was the way it had always been.
Until you came along.
Word count: 2,465.
Disclaimer: Not real. Don’t know, don’t own.
Notes: Comments and any concrit are really appreciated. Previous on my journal.
Dedication: Anyone that's been reading and commenting. <3. Thank you so much.
You’re silent on the drive back to the resort complex. In the background, you can faintly hear John rambling about something, but you can’t concentrate enough to make out exactly what he’s saying. Not after what just happened. The words he said to you on the sidewalk outside the IHOP are still ringing in your ears, and there are nervous butterflies flittering around in your stomach, making you feel queasy.
Those words hit you hard and fast, shocked you like a bucket of ice cold water. Part of you is going as far as to pray that you’re still asleep, and that soon you’ll wake up on that apartment bed, with your shoes still on, feet over the edge, only to discover that he never really did show. That this was all some strange dream.
No such luck. If there’s anything you’re sure of right now, it’s that you’re wide awake.
You finally manage to tune yourself in to John, and catch something about how he really should visit a gift shop or two while he’s here, pick up some gifts for Michelle, Jeff, Camille… And you fleetingly wonder how long he’s actually planning on staying, since you booked the resort apartment for three days, but didn’t really expect his company for much longer than an evening. But when you open your mouth to ask him, something else takes the lead.
“Who’s Camille?”
John’s shock towards this question is visible, which only sparks your curiosity further, but he seems to get over it relatively quickly as he responds soon enough.
“She’s a friend,” He explains, taking his eyes off the road for the briefest of moments to look at you. “I might even go as far as to say she’s the closest one I’ve got right now. She does our photography. I think you’d like her.”
You don’t say anything in response, simply nod, trying to ignore that faint blush that sweeps his cheeks. Seconds pass, and you realize that he referred to this Camille as his closest friend, and you wonder what happened to him. Your heart races at the thought that all might not be perfect in JohnandJesse land anymore, but you feel guilty even thinking about it, so you push it out of your mind. You’re afraid to ask him about it; for fear that you’re looking too much into his words. You’re afraid to ask him in case suddenly, the gates open and all you hear for the next however many hours/days/whatever are gushes of admiration for that two-faced asshole.
Not that you’re bitter or anything.
If you were honest, you know that both you and Jesse had hated each other from the moment you first laid eyes on each other. But you had always attempted to be civil around John to keep him happy; that was the one thing you and Jesse had in common.
John.
You had met both Jesse and John at once, and you rarely saw them apart for weeks after you had met them. It was as though they were attached at the hip, inseparable, and you supposed if you had known someone since you were nine years old and spent almost every single day with them, you would be, too. Still, from the moment you saw Jesse, you took an intense disliking to him.
You were never sure what exactly sparked it. Maybe it was how easy he had everything; a loving family, close friends, a beautiful home - you’d always struggled. Or maybe it was how easily and flawlessly he would pick up things in no time. Either way, everything Jesse wanted was laid out in front of him, and if it wasn’t, he could easily obtain it with his charming personality and good looks. It sickened you. Everyone around you seemed to adore him, including John, and it felt like you were the only one to see straight through him. From the very second you first laid eyes on him.
The very first second.
Jesse Lacey was manipulative and arrogant. He was the most self-centred person you had ever come across in your life. Everything he did was for his own personal gain, and what Jesse wanted, Jesse got, just like that. This included John.
JohnandJesse. JesseandJohn. NolanandLacey. LaceyandNolan. Take your pick. That was the way it had always been.
Until you came along.
From the moment you laid eyes on John Nolan, you thought that he was beautiful, with his milky white skin and hazel eyes, pretty long fingers that could play the piano so entrancingly, strum a chord so smoothly. And you didn’t plan for it to happen - in fact, it all stemmed from nothing more than a few drunken accidents out on the road - but you and John fell in love; and from the moment it begun, Jesse was looking for ways to destroy it all for you.
He succeeded in destroying more than your relationship.
He destroyed you.
But that’s a story for a little later.
Besides, you’ve finally reached the resort and John is pulling the rental car into one of the vast variety of parking spaces available. He’s killing the engine, and turning to you, with a gentle smile. You shoot him a smile in return, and the two of you get out of the car, and that’s where John stops still, and you’re halfway up the pathway to the room when you notice he’s not by your side.
“Um… Hey, listen, Adam,” He’s stumbling over choosing the right words, and your legs are jelly and you’re tingling with nerves, but you don’t move a muscle. You stand still on that pathway, waiting for him to continue. He doesn’t.
“What?” You attempt to encourage him calmly, but your voice cracks and you curse yourself for being a nervous wreck when it comes to him, because you know that Jesse would have handled this so much better.
You can’t think of anything that Jesse can’t do better. You’re second place, you always will be to John, but you ache to be so much more.
“Let’s stay outside for a bit,” John finally answers, crossing his arms over his chest awkwardly. “Go for a walk? Come on.”
You hesitate briefly; the fear in his eyes scares you, but you nod slowly and walk over to him, and he turns on his heel to walk with you across the parking lot and onto a long and winding pathway, through the palm trees that decorate the resort.
The lighting of the pathway is very dim, and you expect John to complain about how much of a safety hazard it is, but he doesn’t say a word. You’re walking for what feels like forever in complete silence, and the path you walk is getting darker and darker until you feel like you’ve been plunged into complete darkness. You can’t see him, for lack of light, but you know he’s there, because he’s closer now, he’s breathing deeply and you can hear him. You can feel his arm brushing against yours as you walk, and despite the humidity and the heat of the Florida night, you shudder, because it’s the first time you’ve had contact with him in three years.
And you feel guilty for wanting so much more than that.
Ahead, you see a streetlight, illuminating a picnic table. John looks to you, as though requesting you sit there and you shrug as you head towards it and climb up to sit on the table, and John starts pacing through the wood chippings that decorate the picnic area. He does this for a little while, before turning to you, ready to speak, but the second he sees you, that lazy smile spreads across his face.
“What?” You ask him.
“Nothing,” He shakes his head, but he’s still staring at you. “It’s just… You look so nervous, so innocent. Just like a kid. You’re looking at me the way you used to when-”
“--When we first met.” You finish the sentence for him, and he nods, the smile fading from his face. He directs his eyes towards the ground before approaching you and climbing onto the picnic table to sit next to you.
“I really miss the old days, ‘dam.” He whispers, leaning back on his palms and looking up at the sky. You don’t say a word; simply stare off into the dark. You don’t know what to expect from him. You don’t even know what to expect from yourself. “When it was just you and me and -”
“It was never just you and me, John.” You interrupt, and he looks over at you, stunned for a moment, before biting down on his lip and nodding.
“You’re right,” He agrees. “It wasn’t. But it felt like it was. For that little while.”
You shift uncomfortably away from him. He’s not leaning towards you, or even inching to touch you, but for some reason you feel extremely tense. He sighs, noticing your movement and continues to speak.
“Jesse and I fell out a couple of months back.” He says, and now you’ve got your answer, but it doesn’t make you as happy as you thought, because it took Jesse leaving for him to build up the courage to come down here. This fact doesn’t make you feel any better.
“Oh.” Your whisper.
Secondbestsecondbestsecondbest.
“Why?” You ask, after a considerably long silence. You can’t help but notice the patterns of uncomfortable silence and nervous smiles and awkward glances. John reaches over, draws shapes on the back of your hand as you hold your body upright on the bench, and you feel your skin tingle at his touch.
“You know, I’ve really missed you.” He says, staring down at your hand as he touches it, and you half-glare at him, pulling your hand from under his and tucking both of your hands between your knees, out of John’s reach. John looks up, smiles apologetically, and sighs.
“I’m going to start with the main reason I came down here.” He tells you. “To be truthful, I regret everything that happened those three years ago. Leaving you was the hardest thing I ever had to do, and I’m sorry I hurt you. It was the last thing I wanted to do.”
You choke down a bitter laugh at this statement, but continue to listen anyway.
“You really meant the world to me, despite what happened. You still do, in a lot of ways. But I have to let all that go now, I really have to, and it was like Jesse always said…” He took a deep breath, watching you as you stare down at your hands, fiddle with the sleeves of your hooded sweater like some shy teenager, and God, you need to grow up one of these days. “…It was only a matter of time before I ran away from that part of my life. The worst thing for those kids to know was that I was…”
“…That you are gay.” You interrupt, and John’s breath hitches, and you notice him glance around before nodding, and you smile sadly to yourself. “I, personally, think it was your parents you were more worried about.”
“Well,” John mutters. “Yes, them too. I come from a Catholic family, remember?”
“You’re almost thirty, John!” You exclaim.
“I still can’t let them down. I can’t be those things for you, or anyone else. Not even Jesse.”
Not even Jesse.
Asshole.
“You can’t make yourself change, either. You are who you are, John.” You say firmly, looking him straight in the eyes. “But hey, whatever, right? Just so long as you keep step in that perfect Catholic time.”
“For someone who never got along with Jesse,” He whispers. “You are so much like him sometimes.”
You glare at him for a moment, suck your lip into your mouth before you decide you’ve had enough of this discussion.
“Get to the point, John.”
John pauses for a moment, takes a deep breath and braces himself.
“Adam, I’m getting married.”
Second best.
And before you know it, you’re on your feet, walking that dark pathway back to the resort room, and John’s walking briskly behind you, calling your name, but you don’t turn around, so he runs to catch up with you.
“Adam,” John gasps, as he pulls you around to face him, you let him, and he holds you by the arms as if to ensure that you don’t run away from him again. “Adam… You were my best friend. I want you back in my life, okay? That’s why I’m here.”
“And what makes you think I want you back in my life after everything you did to me?” You exclaim, not bothering to keep your voice down. John jumps, and glances around frantically, fearing that you might have woken other guests at the resort up. You don’t care. “After everything you did, who in their right mind would? I was no saint, John, but you were less of one.”
John looks like a wounded puppy at this remark, but eventually throws his hands up in defeat. The two of you stand at the edge of the darkness for a few moments in silence, before John sighs and removes the rental car keys from his pockets.
“It was a bad idea to come here,” John mumbles. “I’m sorry. I really am. I only wanted for us to be okay.”
Suddenly, you feel like the worst person in the world. He steps away from you and heads down the pathway towards the rental car, and part of you is screaming to run after him, the other says its better this way.
You figure you have roughly a minute to make up your mind.
It takes you five seconds.
“John!” You yell out, sprinting towards the rental car. He winces, looks around again, making sure you didn’t wake anyone before turning to face you just as you reach him.
“I’m sorry,” You say. “I shouldn’t have said any of that. I do miss you, John. I really do. And I’m happy for you. I am. I’m happy for you.”
John smiles nervously and thanks you, and you interrupt what would have been an awkward silence with the suggestion that he brings his suitcase from tour indoors and crashes in the backroom of the resort apartment. The backroom of the apartment has a pullout couch, and John says it suits him fine, so you show him to it and say goodnight, then return to your own bedroom, locking the door and sliding down against it. And it's there in that quiet room, by the dim light of the lamp in the corner, that you think back to how everything got so out of hand in the first place.
You think back to the night that Jesse Lacey decided to ruin your life.