lolz_loser (lolz_loser) wrote in lacey_loves_jno,
lolz_loser
lolz_loser
lacey_loves_jno

Skylines and City Boys Ch.5

TITLE: Skylines and City Boys


AUTHOR: lolz_loser

PAIRING: John Nolan/ Jesse Lacey

RATING: NC-17 overall

SUMMARY: Chapter five

DISCLAIMER: Not mine, all of this is a figment of my imagination, None of this is true!! Ohh, please don’t sue me.

AUTHORS NOTES:  any criticism much appreciated.

Chapter one   Chapter two    Chapter three   Chapter four

 

A/N let me just say that I KNOW my timeline is skrewed up so if you're one of those people who gets weird about that kind of thing, then I'm sorry. It's really just a minor detail in the story because I try to find situations where Jesse would write his songs about John, and in my story he's writing Deja at the same time as The Devil and God. I also can't figure out when John got married, so if any of you guys know, please let me know cos I think it's important to have that worked out. I swear, I have a plan and all of this really is going somewhere! This chapter is short but I'm rather fond of it. =] Enjoy.




I’m on the couch watching basketball. But not really.

 Really I’m listening to John scream at Michelle over the phone, something about ‘none of your business’ and  ‘why can’t you just accept that I’m not interested’ and as much as I want to go in there and see what all the fuss is about, I won’t. As much as I hate seeing John upset, I hate intruding in on his business and experience has told me to let him come to me, which he always does.

But until he walks out and here and cuddles up next to me, I’m watching basketball, rooting for the losing team because I don’t care anyway and they could really use the support.

Thirteen minutes later John stops yelling, and four minutes after that he comes out and sits down on the couch, away from me.

I chance a glance over at him, he’s still fuming. “You ok?” I ask, unable to hold my tongue any longer.

“She’s such a fucking bitch,” he says with malice. I’m quiet and I wait for him to continue. “She set me up on a date.” He says, spitting the words out like poison. My heart skips a beat, “Well tell her no” I say, it’s simple really, I don’t understand. “I tried that, and then she brought you up, and went off on how weird it was that I’m not dating anyone and spending all my time with you and how mom and dad are getting worried and so the three of them all pulled some fucking family-scam and set me up on a date.”

                In my personal opinion, John’s family hating me was a lot better than having to watch him date someone else. “Well, what are you going to do?”

“I have to go!” He screams, turning to face me. “I don’t have any fucking choice in the matter, apparently my life choices are left up to a family democracy where everyone votes and majority rules!”

I want to scream back at him that this is ridiculous and it’s his life and FUCK them. But I won’t because I know how much he’s struggling with this. Even if he’s accepted that he’s gay, he’s far from even understanding that maybe other people would accept it too, it’s this deep dark secret that’s the worst thing in the world. You would think he was fucking dogs, or children, the way he acts about it. I’ve tried to tell him it’s not a big deal, people don’t give a shit, but he won’t hear it.

                “What about Elton John?” I asked him once “He’s gay and people love him, same with Brian Molko of Placebo, he dated boys forever.” John just said “it’s not the same” to everything and eventually I dropped it. In all fairness, I know his family wouldn’t be ok with it, but shit, I just need some peace of mind.

                Now he’s sulking on the couch. He looks up at me sideways and says “Alright, it’s one date, we go out and have dinner, and flirt a little and then I kiss her on the cheek and come back. It’s enough to satisfy my parents, I can just tell them that she wasn’t my type and they have to get over it.”

                That’s really not so bad, but still I don’t like it. I don’t like it at all. Neither does he though, I remind myself and nod my head in agreement.

“Yeah, that’s not that bad, it won’t even be a big deal.”

“Except for the screaming match I just had with Michelle,” he shrugs as he says this, “That makes things awkward.”

                He’s calming down and that’s a good thing but still my heart is racing. I know that John Nolan and Impulse Control are two things that don’t exactly go together.

Like the time in high school when he slept with my girlfriend, although we don’t talk about that. I like to play it off as him trying to get closer to me although it probably wasn’t. John likes sex and even if he likes sex with boys more than he likes sex with girls he’s not one to turn down an orgasm and our relationship hasn’t really been tested yet.

                I’m doing my best to act cool but he reads me like a fucking book, John does. And a second later he leans over and takes my face into his hands, “Jess…” He whispers “Yeah…” I mumble.

“I love you, ok, we’ll figure it out. Everything will be fine”

And I can feel the heat of his body pressing against me, and his smell burns my nose and he tastes like everything I’ve ever wanted. And as he moves over me in waves, pressing me into the couch, I can breathe, for a few minutes I gasp and clutch and my lungs are full.

               

*****

               

                “Tell me again where you’re going.” I say for the tenth time, sitting on the couch with my knees pulled under me.

John sighs, trying his best to be patient with me.

“We’re going to dinner at Le Petite Châteaux” he says, “We’ll eat and have some coffee and talk and I’ll be miserable” he walks over to me “The whole time I’ll be thinking about you, and missing you, and counting down the minutes till I’m back here.”

I laugh looking away from his imploring eyes, his stare penetrating me. He kisses my lips and goes back to getting dressed.

“Camille,” I say “What kind of a name is that anyway.”

“I think it’s French” he yells from the other room.

I can’t help the look of distaste that creeps across my face even though I’m trying to be supportive.

“Ugh, fine.” I lay back on the couch, “I’ll be here when you get back, alone!”

I toss a baseball in the air and catch it lazily. “Playing with my balls”

That at least catches his attention; he pokes his head out with one eyebrow raised.

I toss the ball at him, not really aiming and ducks back into his room before the ball bounces off the wall at least three feet away from any danger zone.

I can hear him laughing softly and he finishes up in his room.

He comes out and stands in front of me. Puts his arms out and shrugs, “How do I look?”

He looks great and I wish he didn’t, I wish he didn’t dress so nice to go meet this bitch, and could just look like crap and maybe make her hate him, which she won’t because LOOK at him, he’s perfect looking, oh my god.
                               

                “I’m trying to figure out what would be the appropriate time to ask you out on a date for myself, Jesus John, you look great.”

He smiles and says “Come here, I’d go to you but I can’t get this wrinkled”

I laugh and stand up, pressing myself into him. He pulls away for a second and says, “Hold on, stay here.”

                He runs over to the stereo before dimming the lights, as soon as a soft glow engulfs the room Coldplay’s The Scientist starts playing.

                “Will you dance with me?” he asks me, holding his hand out.

I’m speechless; I take his hand in mine and hold him close to me, swaying gently to the music.

His hand comes up my back and my head falls to his neck, breathing deeply.

The stereo croons No one said it was easy, no one ever said it would be this hard, oh take me back to the start…

I kiss his neck, his ear, his jawbone. His hands around me tighten and he pulls me close to him, I’m so close to him and it’s not enough, it’s never enough unless under or all around me, at times I wish he would hit me just so that I could feel something satisfying.
Something that stings as much as I ache.
A push for this never-ending pull.

Ohh it’s such a shame for us to part, nobody said it was easy, no one ever said it would be so hard; I’m going back to the start.

“I love you” he breaths, “I love you so much Jess, it hurts.”

“I know, I know.”

He kisses me, letting his tongue pull my soul out of my mouth and into his chest cavity and I let him, anything to be so close to him, to taste him like this. This sense of abandon as he pushes me against the wall and shoves his hips against mine.

“It’s you Jess, and I’ll be back in a couple of hours and then I’m all yours. O.K?”

Of course he knows everything I’m thinking always, and of course he knows how to make it better and I almost want to cry. I nod my head and kiss him again before he backs away from me slowly, he gets his keys and turns when he reaches the door and says, “I love you”

I smile, and everything is ok for a minute and then he leaves. And as much as I know that it’s nothing, and that he loves me I’m still crying by the time I hear the door click shut. I slink to the ground and let my head fall back, writing songs in my head.

 

Goodbye to love
It’s a ride that will push you up
Right against the wall
Take apart your head
Chew it up and swallow it

Pull back but you run out
Feel a slipping incline
I can't shake this little feeling
Do you want to come along?
Cause I’ll never say anything right
I'm my own
I’ll never say anything right
I'm my own.

 

 

 

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