lolz_loser (lolz_loser) wrote in lacey_loves_jno,

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Skylines and City Boys chapter seven.

TITLE: Skylines and City Boys ch.7

AUTHOR: lolz_loser

PAIRING: John Nolan/ Jesse Lacey


SUMMARY: Chapter seven

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:  Alright, this is closure. I'm not saying I'll never add more to it, when something hits me in a fit of inspiration, I'm just saying for the most part, accept this as the way things are, because it's the way things are in real life. The John Nolan lyrics I found after writing the story, and was amazed at how PERFECTLY they fit the situation! I sincerely hope you all like it, I had so much fun doing this. Thank you for your support!

Chapter one   Chapter two    Chapter three   Chapter four

 Chapter five Chapter Six


It will only ever be him.

Him in the cold, early morning when the sun is turning the sky a dusty pink gray, and he has a cup of coffee in his hand, dressed and ready to face the day, while I’m reading the paper on the couch, with only the early light of the sky, and a bare bulb for company.

            Him when it rains, and the street lights gather clouds of mist around them, and I have a hundred pages of a journal spread out in a circle around me, and he stands in the doorway, threatening to let in a wet draft if I don’t clean up.

            Him in my bed, shuddering when my tongue gets him just there.


He comes in to the room and the door echoes with a foreboding thud. “John?” I ask, he had been out with Camille again; he had been out with Camille a lot in the last six months.

            I was devoid of emotion for a moment, as he walked into the room and sank down onto the floor in front of me.

            “We have to talk, Jess.” He said. “About what?” I asked, I didn’t want to know really, I wanted to not be here. Be anywhere but here.


My eyes burned with hatred in that moment.

            “We’re…” His throat closed up, he coughed and picked the carpet as he said “we’re getting married.”

            Silence. A slow burn, vertigo.

“What? Are you…you’re joking, John. Please, please tell me that you’re fucking kidding me.”

“I’m serious, I can’t do this anymore. She’s a nice girl Jess, she likes you,  she thinks you’re great-” “I don’t give a shit if she thinks I’m the fucking Dali Lama, she can’t have you.”

“Jesse, stop it. You’re not being rational.”

“Rational! What do you want me to do?” I choked, I couldn’t breathe, I was crying and my heart was a hole.

John didn’t love me anymore. My life was over because John Nolan, the boy I have been in love with since I was about fourteen, doesn’t love me anymore.

“J-John, baby, oh god.”

“Jesse, please, you have no idea how hard this is. You have no idea what I’m feeling right now!”

He clutched his heart from his place on the carpet and cried out my name.

“This isn’t fucking logical Jess! What are we doing? It’s time to have families, kids, careers; we have to look towards the future, ok? We can’t live in this little dream world anymore. We’re not teenagers.”

“Dream world…no…” I whispered. I didn’t have the heart to yell, I was so weak.

“It’s so fucking stupid, you’re such an asshole, all we do is fuck and play music and this isn’t life! Jesse this is fucking around!”

I was just sitting there, hot tears moving over my cheeks in waves, letting him yell at me over and over again.

            “You have to fucking settle sometimes Jesse, alright maybe it isn’t perfect, maybe it’s not going to be that heart in your throat, palms sweat, we own the world, run down the street in the rain, take your breath away kind of love.  But it works, ok, and it works long term and we don’t fucking tear each other’s throats out like you and I do. We can coexist and not have these fucking polar extremes, Hatred one minute and Lust the next. It’s to fucking unstable for me!”

            I just cried. I didn’t have any argument for him. I didn’t know what else was left to say.

“Jesse, please. I need you to understand, you don’t have to like it, I don’t like it, but I need you to at least understand.”

            If I opened my mouth, I would vomit all over this stupid, dark room with these fake lights and muted TV in the background.


I shook my head.

“Fuck you, talk to me.”

I came in quietly.

“I’m trying” I said slowly “to think of that one thing, that one thing that’s always there, that one thing that would make you stay here with me, instead.”

He crawled closer to me and kissed my legs that were pulled up to my chest. “I love you.” He said, and then he got up, and he walked out of the door.

I can’t bring myself to go into detail about the weeks that followed. If Kevin hadn’t been there, I would have killed myself. There was nothing between me and an infinite hell of not having John Nolan.

            People say that when you lose someone, your heart turns cold, idle. Not mine, not the ever persistent heart of Jesse ilovejohn Lacey. My heart slammed in protest against my ribs, it ached and it burned with all its might, pushed my blood through my veins at ten-speed and wept, constantly wept.

He would come by and cry, and hit me and yell at me over and over and beg me to yell back, which I would in a vain attempt to make him stay which was never, ever his intention and when we were so clearly not on the same plateau, it was hard to breathe.


            And then the wedding invitation came, six months and a few sparing conversations later. All white, with small pink flowers that must have made John cringe but he probably lied about liking.

            I was the best man, naturally.

Folded up inside of the invite was a piece of paper with lyrics on it.

 I should have burned them, but they would have resurfaced somehow anyway. A cork in the pool, a bug bite swelling over the surface. You can’t keep it down.


Taking up my time again,
The one thing I can't stand,
The coffee and the conversation never ends when
All I really need to find,
Is  one short clever line,
To pinpoint my disgust it's always just too much or not enough,
And I'm overwhelmed.

So I'll keep it simple for obvious reasons,
And I'll say what I should and just hope you believe me,
But it never gets easier,
No it never gets easier,
No, no, no.

Sing it to myself again,
I can't hear a word you said,
The syllables, the sounds just aren't sentences and,
All I really want to do,
Is tear straight into you,
Explode, unload a hail of insults until you finally get it,
I'm sick to death.

But I'll keep it simple for obvious reasons, (I'll keep it simple)
And I'll say what I should and just hope you believe me, (Say what I should)
But it never gets easier,
Aw, it never gets easier,
Hell it never gets easier (all I really want to do),
Yeah it never gets easier (is tear straight into you),
Well it...”


My heart, the bloody mess inside of me, tightening and I wonder if it’s possible to have a heart attack at 27.

I know that there are turning points, and this is it. This is the halfway point in my life and I know now I will die when I am 55 years old because the first half of my life was John Nolan.

It was smoking in the bathrooms of school and guitar practice in the garage and my mother making us food and my kid sister always trying to get us to play with her, and it’s us on the couch in the bus on tour, when his hand sneaks into mine and my heart does a double take. And it’s a stolen kiss, in my bedroom, or on the floor, or backstage where he would hold me for a moment before breaking away to belt poetry to screaming fans. John under me, or in me, or all around me.

And this is my life now, with an empty heart and Kevin, beautiful little Kevin trying to take just a little bit of the pain away.

The second half of my life is halfway missing already.

            He comes over to give me the rings that I’m supposed to hold, because that’s my job as best man.

            It’s hot and thundering out, a humid storm raging against the window.

“So, tomorrow at eleven then, you’ll be there?” He says.

“Well, actually something came up, can’t make it” I said, and he laughed, punching me lightly on the arm.

            “Jesse, thank you.”

“Wrong interjection, really.” I said, shuffling my feet.

And I’m sorry.” He said.

I nodded, I didn’t want to cry, but how could I not.

            “Jess, if you cry, I’ll cry, I will. I can’t handle it.”

“Then you should leave” I said with tears streaming down my face, yet again.

            Everything with John was crying, maybe he was right.

He moved closer to me, tensely and wrapped his arms around me.

And look, I know it’s stupid, and I know it’s ridiculous but at that second, or sometime during the three or five that he was holding me, the lightning flashed and thunder barked and God himself was screaming at us, pouring down the flesh of the heavens all around us and I just had to stay in that moment for as long as I could. For every second up until tomorrow when John said ‘I do.’

“Jesse…” He pushed himself harder into me.

“It’s not fair!” I said, pushing him away and against the kitchen wall.

“You can’t do this, do you have any idea how much you mean to me! John, maybe you will go from laying with me to laying with her but it’s only ever you with me.” I clutched my heart in agony.

            “I know that, Jesse I know.” He snarled, and took my face roughly in his hands and made me kiss him, made me take his tongue between my teeth and into my mouth as he pulled at my pants, unbuckling them forcefully.

John Nolan needed me.

He grunted as he stuck his hand into my boxers and grabbed my length, moaning as he felt my hard cock throbbing in his trembling hand. I pulled his pants down quickly and grabbed the bar of soap that was near us in the kitchen sink, lubing up his cock with the wet soap.

In an instant, I pulled myself up onto the counter to fumble with his tender head at my entrance.

And then he was in me, and hitting home.

            I screamed, I was so full and he fucked me so hard, it wasn’t slow and loving it was needy, we both needed to feel something, anything after so long of nothingness.

            He panted and kissed my face all over as he pushed harder into me.

“John, J-no, baby p-p-please, stay like this-fuck.”

“Oh god,” he said “I love you so much” he said, panting close to my lips.

He came inside me, and I followed less than a second later, our orgasms bleeding together and we mashed our face and hands and when he pulled apart we were both crying.

            We laid on the floor for hours, and we cried.

“I will never love her like I love you, Jesse. I mean it.”

And although it’s stupid, and he’s marrying someone else and I’m an adulterous bitch, I believe him, when he holds me like that and begs me, begs me to believe him that he knows this is love. And he knows that he is giving up the best thing that’s ever going to happen to him, and he cries into my chest and kisses me everywhere, tastes me everywhere and promises to never be far, to never be distant, to never be gone altogether.



            And the next day, I hand him the rings and he says ‘I do’ to Camille and he looks at me, for a split second or a lifetime as he says it and I know, like he knows.


That it’s only ever really us.



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