Taking Back Sunday -- Chapter 4
[Title] Taking Back Sunday
[Author] dejectedmadness
[Rating] Eventually NC-17. This chapter… PG-13 to a soft R for boykissing/light touching.
[Chapter Listing] .:1:. .:2:. .:3:. 4/?
[Disclaimer] I am posting fanFICTION. Neither the characters nor the ideas belong to me, just the plot specific to this story. No profit is being made off of this fiction, it is being written solely for my entertainment and for the entertainment of others as warped as I am. Don't sue.
[Band/Pairing]Brand New/Straylight Run, Jesse Lacey/Brian Lane, Jesse Lacey/John Nolan
[Summary] Jesse makes a new friend about whom John is not particularly fond for reasons as yet only speculated upon.
[X-Posted] rockinthebed, slashypunkboys, _brand_new_love, lacey_loves_jno
[Author’s Notes] This isn’t intended to be particularly AU, although it is a high school fic, and it has some anachronistic tendencies.
I personally didn't like this chapter as much. It took me a little effort to get into the delicious goodness of it because I hate just jumping into... intimacy. Heh. I like it a lot better since my lovely beta moshimoshix3 scoured it for me and fixed all my terrible typos and confusing bits. She is amazing! Yay! See? A lot fewer ANs this time! Love me!
Shortly before three, Jesse had said goodbye to his friend and started back to the school. His short walk was plagued by a recurring memory, a shitty song stuck on repeat in his head, tormenting him because he couldn’t make himself think of anything else but John’s continued expression of half-hidden disappointment, his falsely casual words, leaden with solemnity and bitterness bitten off with his chewed fingernails. Their content afternoon off had turned into something suffered. As terrible as it made Jesse feel, he was glad to be away from there.
Jesse didn’t make it as far as the school, though. Lost in his own head, he didn’t notice the car driving slowly directly beside him until the horn sent him leaping out of his thoughts.
“Jesus, Brian! You scared the fucking hell out of me!”
“Get in, you pussy,” Brian leaned over and opened the door. “What the hell are you doing here? I was just coming to get you,” he said as Jesse buckled up.
“John and I took a half-day.”
Brian frowned. “Is that why you look like someone just ran over your dog?”
Jesse chewed the inside of his lip. “Yeah,” he admitted. “I think John’s really angry at me. Well… not angry… but upset.”
“What happened?”
Jesse threw up his hands slightly. “I don’t really know. It was going well. It was just like before. But then he said that we should have a big weekend thing this weekend, and obviously I had to tell him I was with you all weekend, and he just… closed up.”
Brian didn’t look at Jesse, but he bore a sympathetic expression. “Fuck,” was all he said.
“I think next weekend I definitely need to just hang out with John. Things are so strained right now. I’ve never seen him this annoyed with me.”
Brian nodded. “For sure. I definitely agree.”
“Yeah?” Jesse glanced to his chauffer in badly disguised surprise.
“Yeah. You’re way too angst-ridden when you’re worried if your best friend hates you. I don’t know what I’m going to do to get you to loosen up, but I’d better think of something. I don’t want you getting all fucking emo on me all weekend.”
Jesse shook his head and laughed. He would have hit Brian, but he was driving, and he’d never actually driven with him before. For all Jesse knew, it’d cause some kind of catastrophic accident, and his life was full enough of those as it was.
***
TV. Dinner. Movie. That was about how all their visits went, but there came a point in their excursions when the repetition of those three things lost its novelty. There was only so much on TV, only so many interesting movies in Brian and Jesse’s collections, and they could only eat as much as any regular teenage boy could eat, which-who were they kidding?-could really have occupied them for the entirety of the weekend alone, but besides demolishing the contents of Brian’s pantry, which on it’s own only seemed a good idea through the first three bags of Cheetos, there was a necessity for something more for them to be doing. The deviation on this particular visit began when Jesse asked if he could see Brian’s drums. Brian, as expected, was eager to oblige.
Jesse didn’t know the first thing about drums except that if he hit one it made a noise, but then again, if you hit a guitar it would make a noise, too, or a pan, or… a cat. Yeah, he knew about as much on the subject of drums as he knew about any other existing thing.
What he didn’t know was that Brian looked like a God behind that set. With sticks in his hand, his feet on the pedals, Brian was truly in his element. It was in the set of his shoulders and the peaceful blankness in his features that told Jesse he was seeing something he had never seen before in his friend.
Jesse listened to Brian speak without really understanding what he was saying, something about the cost per square inch of different types of cymbals and a particular sound and a particular brand that he’d been saving for, all kinds of information like that which Jesse must have spewed to Brian a billion times about his guitar which Brian must have understood just as much as Jesse was now. But he listened raptly, nodding when Brian seemed to be waiting for that and just watching otherwise, watching as Brian reached out and brushed imaginary dust from a cymbal or tapped his snare with his finger. Every caress, brush, touch was meaningful, and Jesse saw the love Brian exuded for his instrument, and the passion that filled him just in thinking of playing something for someone. He got the same way Jesse did when he was trying not to gush for hours about something that the other didn’t care about, but couldn’t seem to help himself. He even laughed and looked away timidly, uncharacteristic for Brian to say the least.
“You probably have no idea what I’m talking about,” the percussionist muttered.
Jesse grinned. “No, but I like hearing you say it.”
Brian laughed again, and in the dim basement light, Jesse thought he might have seen a bit of colour in those cheeks.
“Play me something.” Jesse pulled a spare stool from next to the wall and sat a good few feet away.
“Right now?” Brian asked incredulously, but Jesse knew that it was what his friend had been waiting for. Brian’s fist closed over the wooden sticks, and he saw a cymbal move slightly at pressure from Brian’s foot. He was anxious to play.
“Yeah.”
Brian smiled, shook his head, and the tension melted out of him. “It’s like ten o’clock.”
“Noise restrictions don’t go into effect for a half an hour.”
“An hour, actually,” Brian corrected and smiled when Jesse did. Of course, they both knew that. “Alright,” he relented, without needing much convincing. He pounded the bass drum and hit the snare a few times, only loosening up, the same way Jesse played the first few chords of Angie by The Stones right after he tuned up, before they launched into a song. He was deciding what to play.
It only took a second longer before Brian started. Jesse had expected it to be loud, so he wasn’t taken by surprise at the volume, even of the cymbals, which were pretty damn noisy, however, it took almost a full minute for him to get into it; he wasn’t familiar with the instrument, so it wasn’t second nature to him to groove to the beat. Almost immediately after he began to let his intrigue guide his attention, though, Jesse focused on Brian. Not the drummer, not the movements, but Brian himself. His face appeared serious; he pressed his lips together in concentration; his whole body sat straight, erect on the stool, and he threw himself into the motions. It seemed that Jesse’s friend had completely transformed from the taunting, casual jokester that Jesse poked in the ribs to make him laugh soda up his nose into just sticks, snares, basses, cymbals. His instrument was an extension of Brian. He was the music.
With exhilaration, Jesse watched his friend twist and thrash, strike out in complicated arrangements, and with an uncanny sense of timing tap, slam, bang rhythms out that would have made Jesse’s head swim had he tried. His mouth grew slack after a while, lips parting, chest heaving. It had to be tiring, playing an instrument that was so physically demanding for… how long had it been? It didn’t matter. Jesse wasn’t ready for the set to end, and neither, it seemed, was Brian.
He noticed his friend’s white shirt had grown damp across the chest, and Brian’s slightly overgrown hair clung to his forehead. In a way about which Jesse wasn’t altogether sure, his breath caught in his throat and a tightness formed in his belly when he noticed that Brian’s nipples were hard against his shirt. Jesse’s tongue seemed stuck to the roof of his suddenly dry mouth, and he couldn’t force himself to swallow right away. In fact, Jesse wasn’t aware of it until Brian was finally making the cymbal sing the end of the… song… solo… set… thing, but his mouth was parted just slightly in breathlessness, too.
Brian wiped his face with his shirt, baring his stomach to Jesse in the process. Jesse tried not to look at his friend’s abdomen or the coarse, dark hair that began just above his waistline. Jesse took the opportunity to swallow, as he so wanted to a moment ago, and applaud.
Brian shook his head with a smirk. “Fuck off.”
“No. That was seriously amazing.”
“Shut up,” Brian chuckled.
Jesse shrugged. “Okay… but… I’ve never seen anything like it. That was fucking… really… good. Really good.”
Brian rolled his eyes. “Thanks.” He left his sticks on the chair. “Come on,” he instructed. “I need a new shirt.”
***
Jesse and Brian had long since given up bickering about which of them would take the bed. Jesse had learned his first night here that there was no arguing with the other boy that Jesse would be fine sleeping on the carpet with an extra pillow and a square patch of covers if Brian could manage it. No, not when there was a perfectly functional and sizeable bed, Brian had insisted; they could share.
So at three am, after considerably more food and a few games of multiplayer Super Mario, Brian and Jesse were laying side by side under Brian’s fluffy navy duvet, having one of their midnight-or later-conversations.
Jesse couldn’t have traced back to the origin of this conversation; he had no idea how he’d reached the topic, but there they were. He was starting to feel like the emo kid Brian accused him of being hours before, going on about how no one understood him and no one was compatible with him. Even without saying it, he felt like it was conveyed with ease through his anecdotes.
“My last girlfriend,” he was saying now, “was Mary. This blonde-haired, green-eyed prom-queen style girl, but fuck if she and her friends shared a brain between them.” Jesse snickered. “I don’t know why I ever went out with her. I think we met at a show or something, and I thought, ‘if she likes this band, she can’t be too bad,’ but it turned out she, like, knew the bassist for one of the opening acts or something.”
“Harsh.”
“Yeah. I never seem to have good luck with girls. All the pretty ones are smart like posts and all the bright ones are not my type.”
Brian laughed. “What’s it take to be your type?”
Jesse shrugged, though in the dark, Brian probably didn’t see. “I don’t really know. I’ve dated so many different girls. Short, tall, fat, thin, brunette, blonde, red-head- I dated a bald girl once.”
“Really?”
“Yeah. She shaved her head for cancer research. I really liked her, but to be honest, if she hadn’t been the butt of jokes at school, I’d never have gone to ask her why she cut off all her hair. It was supposed to be a joke, but when she told me… I don’t know. I just asked her out right then. Ha! That didn’t last either, though. We broke up in a week.”
Brian snorted.
”I’ve never really been too attracted to anyone. Not for long, anyway. I know that sounds terrible, but… I guess I’m picky. I like personality, but for me to consider you, you need looks. Girls with looks don’t have personality. It’s a vicious cycle.” Brian grunted. “What about you?” Jesse asked. “Any girlfriend stories?”
The bed moved as Brian shifted the pillow beneath his head. “Not really,” he confessed slowly. “I find it sort of hard to date, and I really haven’t had a lot of relationships.” He paused for long enough that Jesse almost spoke again, but then said, “My last one was with Corey. We had a lot in common. We were both musicians, liked the same music, we got along really well. Things just sort of fell into place.”
“What happened?”
“Well… we went to different schools, and we didn’t have cars. We lived on opposite sides of town. I guess things just sort of… fell out of place again.”
“That sucks. Did you guys really live that far away? The town’s only so big. Where did she go to school?”
Brian cleared his throat. “Um, actually… your school.”
“Really?” Jesse furrowed his brow, trying to place the name Corey in his head with any of the girls in his classes. “What grade? What’s her name?”
“Um… A-Ashford.”
Jesse blinked into the darkness a long, concentrated, thoughtful blink and felt his heart skip a beat, or maybe several beats, and he exhaled heavily as his pulse began to steadily accelerate. He knew Corey Ashford. He could picture Corey’s face and figure in his mind: black hair, dark eyes, a little bit pale, thin, and usually looking as if he’d forgotten to shave.
“Jesse?” Brian said softly.
It took Jesse three times to say, “Yeah?”
“I… I’ll sleep on the floor.” Brian paused, waited for a response that was not forthcoming, and then sat up, swinging his legs over the side of the bed.
Jesse knew his friend had made the sudden change in decision to eliminate any of Jesse’s discomfort in sleeping in the same bed as someone who, compared to most other boys he slept next to, might pose something of a threat to Jesse’s virginity, innocence and sexuality. What Brian didn’t seem to realize was that the only of those three virtues that Jesse was still certain about was his virginity.
Jesse didn’t realize he’d already thought it through and made his mind up when his arm darted out, connecting with Brian’s on the first try, despite the limited light, his fingers closing around his friend’s bicep, and Jesse sat up, trying to make out Brian’s eyes in the pale, faint glow from the streetlight outside his window.
Jesse didn’t get far in his task, though, because seconds later, Brian leaned slowly, so slowly, toward Jesse, and hesitated less than an inch away, close enough that Jesse could taste the mint of Brian’s hot, damp breath, for Jesse to close the miniscule gap between them, connecting their mouths in a tentative, cautious, permission-requesting kiss.
It was slow and lingering, and Jesse had plenty of time to measure the pressure of Brian’s lips against his own and the sensation of that strange tightness in his stomach that had been plaguing him for weeks, which he now knew was not a bad feeling. Jesse exhaled against Brian’s cheek and ended the kiss.
“Jesse,” Brian whispered. It was a question as to where they stood. But Jesse didn’t want to answer. He just wanted to feel Brian’s lips again.
Jesse kissed his friend a second time. It made sense, now, that it felt so good to be with Brian all the time, it felt so comfortable, and real, and right. His bashfulness made sense, too, uncharacteristic of him, except in the extreme circumstances when he just wanted to impress the other person. Jesse dredged up all the iffy moments in his mind when he acted weird and couldn’t be bothered to realize why: Brian catching him dancing at band practice, smiling like a fool when Brian deemed it appropriate to touch him, even if it was just to push him off a sidewalk or bump into him while they strode side-by-side, and especially tonight, watching Brian play his drums and the breathlessness that ensued from watching him get worked up and sweaty in the passion of the beat. It made sense, now.
Brian was the first to pull away, this time, but neither spoke for a long minute, both staring at one another with straining eyes against the darkness.
“You were serious,” Jesse said. “About keeping those pesky girls away.” Brian nodded. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
“I like hanging out with you too much. I didn’t want to scare you away.”
Jesse shook his head. “I’m not like that. I wouldn’t have stopped being your friend, even if-”
Brian blinked. “Even if?”
Jesse looked down at his hands and shrugged. “Even if,” he mumbled, “even if I wasn’t a little bit the same way.”
“Have you ever had a boyfriend?”
“You’re the first guy I’ve ever kissed Brian, do the math,” Jesse said dryly, bringing enough humour back into the situation to relax both their shoulders.
Brian couldn’t seem to help the grin that split his lips and bared his teeth. Yes, they had kissed. Judging by Brian’s sudden shyness, the reminder was pleasant for both of them. He enjoyed his friend’s downcast eyes and the goofy grin that contagiously spread across his own lips like a delightful infection, a pleasing disease that they now both shared.
“Is this weird?” Brian asked. Strangely, Jesse knew exactly what he meant.
“No. It seems like the first thing that’s ever made sense.”
Brian chuckled. “You’re such a poet, Jesse.”
“Is it weird for you?”
Brian exhaled. “You know what? I thought it would be; that’s why I never did… anything. I thought you’d freak out or… or I don’t know. I though it’d just feel like something got ruined if I ever… if we ever….” Brian shrugged.
“But it’s not?”
The percussionist shook his head and finally looked back up, right into Jesse’s eyes so that when Jesse breathed, he breathed in Brian’s serious intensity, and he flushed under the heat of Brian’s stare, and they both felt him mean it when he said, “No.”
And that? That should have been enough. They should have been able to leave it at that, because Jesse was content, and being one who liked things neatly tied up without the confusion of loose ends, there shouldn’t be a question that this was right. But Brian’s conscience was a tricky bitch, and she made the boy sigh with a shake of his head and say, “Jess, you’re a really good friend. I have way more fun with you than… than fucking anyone else. I don’t want to do anything to jeopardize that.”
“Why do you think that would happen?”
“Because you’re new to this. Maybe you don’t know what you want. Maybe you’re just curious and you’ll decide ‘fuck Brian! He’s a perverted fuck!’”
“I’m not old enough to drink, but I’m old enough to know I want to. I’m not old enough to smoke, but I’m old enough to know I don’t want to. I am old enough to kiss girls. I am old enough to know what it means that they don’t do anything for me. Why wouldn’t I be mature enough to know that I want to kiss you again?” Jesse’s heart throbbed with a little extra force when he saw how Brian’s lips parted for his huffed exhalation of excitement at Jesse’s declaration.
Brian licked his lips. “Just kiss?” he whispered.
Jesse smirked. “For now. Maybe touch… a little. It’s late. And we have all weekend,” he whispered back throatily.
Brian swallowed hastily with an audible croak. “We have longer than that.” His voice was breathy. It was clear what Jesse’s words alone were doing to him, now that Brian was allowing himself the freedom to let them, and why not? He had no reason to hide his obvious attraction any longer. “I don’t want you to do any-”
“Anything I don’t want to do?” Brian closed his lips. “Don’t worry, Bri. I’m usually the one in control, and I’m very vocal about what I want. You won’t have to guess. Jesse slid closer on the bed. Brian’s face was sombre when he looked at Jesse. Jesse wondered how he had never read the signals before. The meaningful glances, covert touches, they were all there; all Brian’s secret gratifications were laid out plainly before Jesse all along. He’d been too blind to his own hidden, buried desires to see that they matched his friend’s. Now his eyes were open and full of possibility. Well… that and lust.
“Are you waiting for something in particular?” Brian asked a moment later, when Jesse was still staring.
Jesse rolled his eyes and closed the gap, attacking Brian’s mouth with his own. This time, though, Jesse decided he’d had enough of chaste brotherly pecks on the mouth. He caught one of Brian’s lips between his own and pulled gently until his mouth opened, and Jesse’s tongue could slip inside. The taste of mint was stronger now, but Jesse’s concern was less about flavour and more about heat, and the texture of stubble against his face, and teeth on his skin, and the smooth, wet slip of tongue against tongue.
Jesse felt pressure on his shoulder, and he realized that Brian’s hand had closed on his shoulder and was pulling him closer. Jesse felt the end of Brian’s t-shirt beneath his fingers before he realized that he was reaching. Brian’s breath hitched as Jesse’s hand pressed solidly against his stomach. Jesse felt fingers lace into his hair. He moaned into Brian’s mouth, and all at once the other boy shifted them both, pushing Jesse back onto the bed and stretching out on top of him.
Jesse’s gasp at the sudden pressure of the other boy’s hip and thigh against his groin broke their kisses. Brian used the separation to his advantage, burying his face in Jesse’s neck. Jesse’s single second of clear thought before Brian’s lips closed over his Adam’s apple were put to good use as he thanked God for Brian’s parents being out of town this weekend. Jesse hadn’t lied when he said he was extremely vocal.
“Oh!” Jesse moaned loudly and tilted his chin up to allow Brian better access.
Jesse slung his arms around Brian’s neck. His eyes drifted shut, and he felt lost in the sensation of Brian’s teeth and tongue and lips on his throat and ears and collarbone. He couldn’t help his growing erection, which, extremely evident in only his thin boxers, would have been embarrassing had the presence of Brian’s own clear physical enjoyment of the situation not dampened the mortification factor to some extent.
Brian drew a trail back to Jesse’s lips with kisses before eagerly thrusting his tongue into the cavern of Jesse’s mouth. It must have taken Brian remarkable self restraint to limit his hands to Jesse’s shoulders and arms, but Jesse wasn’t nearly so reticent. He withdrew his limbs from around Brian’s neck to facilitate his own wanderings. He reduced the space between them until it was negligible with a firm grip on Brian’s shoulder, then traced the definition of Brian’s triceps down to his elbow, and while Jesse’s hand was down there, it was a simple matter to transfer his touch to Brian’s chest.
“Oh!” Brian cried, his lips breaking away from Jesse’s audibly when the guitarist’s deft fingers rubbed deliberately over the hard nub of Brian’s nipple, remembering how tempting they looked earlier, trapped beneath the damp white fabric of Brian’s sweaty t-shirt. Jesse pinched it between his forefinger and thumb and Brian growled a moan, hips pressing down harder against Jesse, seemingly inadvertently.
It was only a moment later that Brian rolled off Jesse and onto his back on the bed.
“Hold on,” he whispered, considerably shorter of breath than a few minutes ago. Jesse watched Brian with fascination as the other boy struggled to regain control. “Fucking hell, Jesse,” he whispered.
“You okay?”
Brian laughed a high pitched and incredulous bark. “I am fucking great. I’m a lot too great, though.” He laughed again, more quietly and controlled this time. “How are you?”
“Probably a little too great, myself,” Jesse responded, not without a sideways smirk.
Brian turned his head to stare into Jesse’s eyes. “You can say that again,” he raised an eyebrow suggestively. Jesse laughed.
Brian reached up with both hands to rub at his face. “I just need to… chill for a minute. I’m sort of worked up.”
“Me too,” Jesse admitted, thanking his pulse for beginning to return to some semblance of normalcy.
“I hope you don’t-” Brian dropped his hands back to his sides and returned his gaze to Jesse. “I don’t mean to stop because I wasn’t enjoying myself. I just think… it’s a bit… fast.”
Jesse’s eyes widened to emphasize his understanding. “Oh, no I know. Don’t worry.” He laughed. “I got a little carried away. I’m sorry if it was out of line-”
“No! No.” Brian laughed. “It was great.” He smiled softly, contentedly at his friend. “I hope you didn’t mind… your neck….”
“Oh!” Jesse put his hand to his throat, remembering Brian’s attentions moments before. “No, that was… nice. It was better than nice. It was… it was very nice.”
Brian laughed at Jesse’s sudden inarticulacy. “Thus spoke poet Lacey,” he whispered wryly.
Jesse shoved him playfully. “Did you… are there marks?”
Brian propped himself up on his elbow to look down at Jesse’s neck in the darkness. He touched Jesse’s chin, moving it this and that way to examine the other boy, who thought nothing of it until Brian had twisted him either way three or four times and Jesse tilted his head with an eyebrow raised in playful derision. Brian beamed down at him and lowered his face for a kiss.
‘Yes,’ Jesse thought. ‘I could get used to this.’
The clock told them it was four-thirty, and the lightening of the sky through Brian’s blinds told them it was time to go to bed, which they would have concluded themselves had they been concentrating as much on their own exhausted features as their eyes and lips and hands.
A quick trip to the bathroom for both of them to cool down and regain the remainder of their composure finally led to them settling back down in Brian’s bed. Brian turned onto his side. Jesse turned his head to face him before deciding it was too stressful for his neck and followed Brian’s example.
A testimony to how tired Jesse was, it took him a full two minutes of staring at Brian before he realized the other was smiling like an idiot.
“What?”
Brian shrugged. “I like this.”
Jesse’s lazy smirk stretched into a grin to mirror Brian’s. “It’s nice.”
Brian reached out across the bed and took Jesse’s hand, so Jesse scooted closer. One more kiss signalled goodnight and the boys fell asleep in minutes, their foreheads touching and hands clasped together.
[Author] dejectedmadness
[Rating] Eventually NC-17. This chapter… PG-13 to a soft R for boykissing/light touching.
[Chapter Listing] .:1:. .:2:. .:3:. 4/?
[Disclaimer] I am posting fanFICTION. Neither the characters nor the ideas belong to me, just the plot specific to this story. No profit is being made off of this fiction, it is being written solely for my entertainment and for the entertainment of others as warped as I am. Don't sue.
[Band/Pairing]Brand New/Straylight Run, Jesse Lacey/Brian Lane, Jesse Lacey/John Nolan
[Summary] Jesse makes a new friend about whom John is not particularly fond for reasons as yet only speculated upon.
[X-Posted] rockinthebed, slashypunkboys, _brand_new_love, lacey_loves_jno
[Author’s Notes] This isn’t intended to be particularly AU, although it is a high school fic, and it has some anachronistic tendencies.
I personally didn't like this chapter as much. It took me a little effort to get into the delicious goodness of it because I hate just jumping into... intimacy. Heh. I like it a lot better since my lovely beta moshimoshix3 scoured it for me and fixed all my terrible typos and confusing bits. She is amazing! Yay! See? A lot fewer ANs this time! Love me!
Shortly before three, Jesse had said goodbye to his friend and started back to the school. His short walk was plagued by a recurring memory, a shitty song stuck on repeat in his head, tormenting him because he couldn’t make himself think of anything else but John’s continued expression of half-hidden disappointment, his falsely casual words, leaden with solemnity and bitterness bitten off with his chewed fingernails. Their content afternoon off had turned into something suffered. As terrible as it made Jesse feel, he was glad to be away from there.
Jesse didn’t make it as far as the school, though. Lost in his own head, he didn’t notice the car driving slowly directly beside him until the horn sent him leaping out of his thoughts.
“Jesus, Brian! You scared the fucking hell out of me!”
“Get in, you pussy,” Brian leaned over and opened the door. “What the hell are you doing here? I was just coming to get you,” he said as Jesse buckled up.
“John and I took a half-day.”
Brian frowned. “Is that why you look like someone just ran over your dog?”
Jesse chewed the inside of his lip. “Yeah,” he admitted. “I think John’s really angry at me. Well… not angry… but upset.”
“What happened?”
Jesse threw up his hands slightly. “I don’t really know. It was going well. It was just like before. But then he said that we should have a big weekend thing this weekend, and obviously I had to tell him I was with you all weekend, and he just… closed up.”
Brian didn’t look at Jesse, but he bore a sympathetic expression. “Fuck,” was all he said.
“I think next weekend I definitely need to just hang out with John. Things are so strained right now. I’ve never seen him this annoyed with me.”
Brian nodded. “For sure. I definitely agree.”
“Yeah?” Jesse glanced to his chauffer in badly disguised surprise.
“Yeah. You’re way too angst-ridden when you’re worried if your best friend hates you. I don’t know what I’m going to do to get you to loosen up, but I’d better think of something. I don’t want you getting all fucking emo on me all weekend.”
Jesse shook his head and laughed. He would have hit Brian, but he was driving, and he’d never actually driven with him before. For all Jesse knew, it’d cause some kind of catastrophic accident, and his life was full enough of those as it was.
***
TV. Dinner. Movie. That was about how all their visits went, but there came a point in their excursions when the repetition of those three things lost its novelty. There was only so much on TV, only so many interesting movies in Brian and Jesse’s collections, and they could only eat as much as any regular teenage boy could eat, which-who were they kidding?-could really have occupied them for the entirety of the weekend alone, but besides demolishing the contents of Brian’s pantry, which on it’s own only seemed a good idea through the first three bags of Cheetos, there was a necessity for something more for them to be doing. The deviation on this particular visit began when Jesse asked if he could see Brian’s drums. Brian, as expected, was eager to oblige.
Jesse didn’t know the first thing about drums except that if he hit one it made a noise, but then again, if you hit a guitar it would make a noise, too, or a pan, or… a cat. Yeah, he knew about as much on the subject of drums as he knew about any other existing thing.
What he didn’t know was that Brian looked like a God behind that set. With sticks in his hand, his feet on the pedals, Brian was truly in his element. It was in the set of his shoulders and the peaceful blankness in his features that told Jesse he was seeing something he had never seen before in his friend.
Jesse listened to Brian speak without really understanding what he was saying, something about the cost per square inch of different types of cymbals and a particular sound and a particular brand that he’d been saving for, all kinds of information like that which Jesse must have spewed to Brian a billion times about his guitar which Brian must have understood just as much as Jesse was now. But he listened raptly, nodding when Brian seemed to be waiting for that and just watching otherwise, watching as Brian reached out and brushed imaginary dust from a cymbal or tapped his snare with his finger. Every caress, brush, touch was meaningful, and Jesse saw the love Brian exuded for his instrument, and the passion that filled him just in thinking of playing something for someone. He got the same way Jesse did when he was trying not to gush for hours about something that the other didn’t care about, but couldn’t seem to help himself. He even laughed and looked away timidly, uncharacteristic for Brian to say the least.
“You probably have no idea what I’m talking about,” the percussionist muttered.
Jesse grinned. “No, but I like hearing you say it.”
Brian laughed again, and in the dim basement light, Jesse thought he might have seen a bit of colour in those cheeks.
“Play me something.” Jesse pulled a spare stool from next to the wall and sat a good few feet away.
“Right now?” Brian asked incredulously, but Jesse knew that it was what his friend had been waiting for. Brian’s fist closed over the wooden sticks, and he saw a cymbal move slightly at pressure from Brian’s foot. He was anxious to play.
“Yeah.”
Brian smiled, shook his head, and the tension melted out of him. “It’s like ten o’clock.”
“Noise restrictions don’t go into effect for a half an hour.”
“An hour, actually,” Brian corrected and smiled when Jesse did. Of course, they both knew that. “Alright,” he relented, without needing much convincing. He pounded the bass drum and hit the snare a few times, only loosening up, the same way Jesse played the first few chords of Angie by The Stones right after he tuned up, before they launched into a song. He was deciding what to play.
It only took a second longer before Brian started. Jesse had expected it to be loud, so he wasn’t taken by surprise at the volume, even of the cymbals, which were pretty damn noisy, however, it took almost a full minute for him to get into it; he wasn’t familiar with the instrument, so it wasn’t second nature to him to groove to the beat. Almost immediately after he began to let his intrigue guide his attention, though, Jesse focused on Brian. Not the drummer, not the movements, but Brian himself. His face appeared serious; he pressed his lips together in concentration; his whole body sat straight, erect on the stool, and he threw himself into the motions. It seemed that Jesse’s friend had completely transformed from the taunting, casual jokester that Jesse poked in the ribs to make him laugh soda up his nose into just sticks, snares, basses, cymbals. His instrument was an extension of Brian. He was the music.
With exhilaration, Jesse watched his friend twist and thrash, strike out in complicated arrangements, and with an uncanny sense of timing tap, slam, bang rhythms out that would have made Jesse’s head swim had he tried. His mouth grew slack after a while, lips parting, chest heaving. It had to be tiring, playing an instrument that was so physically demanding for… how long had it been? It didn’t matter. Jesse wasn’t ready for the set to end, and neither, it seemed, was Brian.
He noticed his friend’s white shirt had grown damp across the chest, and Brian’s slightly overgrown hair clung to his forehead. In a way about which Jesse wasn’t altogether sure, his breath caught in his throat and a tightness formed in his belly when he noticed that Brian’s nipples were hard against his shirt. Jesse’s tongue seemed stuck to the roof of his suddenly dry mouth, and he couldn’t force himself to swallow right away. In fact, Jesse wasn’t aware of it until Brian was finally making the cymbal sing the end of the… song… solo… set… thing, but his mouth was parted just slightly in breathlessness, too.
Brian wiped his face with his shirt, baring his stomach to Jesse in the process. Jesse tried not to look at his friend’s abdomen or the coarse, dark hair that began just above his waistline. Jesse took the opportunity to swallow, as he so wanted to a moment ago, and applaud.
Brian shook his head with a smirk. “Fuck off.”
“No. That was seriously amazing.”
“Shut up,” Brian chuckled.
Jesse shrugged. “Okay… but… I’ve never seen anything like it. That was fucking… really… good. Really good.”
Brian rolled his eyes. “Thanks.” He left his sticks on the chair. “Come on,” he instructed. “I need a new shirt.”
***
Jesse and Brian had long since given up bickering about which of them would take the bed. Jesse had learned his first night here that there was no arguing with the other boy that Jesse would be fine sleeping on the carpet with an extra pillow and a square patch of covers if Brian could manage it. No, not when there was a perfectly functional and sizeable bed, Brian had insisted; they could share.
So at three am, after considerably more food and a few games of multiplayer Super Mario, Brian and Jesse were laying side by side under Brian’s fluffy navy duvet, having one of their midnight-or later-conversations.
Jesse couldn’t have traced back to the origin of this conversation; he had no idea how he’d reached the topic, but there they were. He was starting to feel like the emo kid Brian accused him of being hours before, going on about how no one understood him and no one was compatible with him. Even without saying it, he felt like it was conveyed with ease through his anecdotes.
“My last girlfriend,” he was saying now, “was Mary. This blonde-haired, green-eyed prom-queen style girl, but fuck if she and her friends shared a brain between them.” Jesse snickered. “I don’t know why I ever went out with her. I think we met at a show or something, and I thought, ‘if she likes this band, she can’t be too bad,’ but it turned out she, like, knew the bassist for one of the opening acts or something.”
“Harsh.”
“Yeah. I never seem to have good luck with girls. All the pretty ones are smart like posts and all the bright ones are not my type.”
Brian laughed. “What’s it take to be your type?”
Jesse shrugged, though in the dark, Brian probably didn’t see. “I don’t really know. I’ve dated so many different girls. Short, tall, fat, thin, brunette, blonde, red-head- I dated a bald girl once.”
“Really?”
“Yeah. She shaved her head for cancer research. I really liked her, but to be honest, if she hadn’t been the butt of jokes at school, I’d never have gone to ask her why she cut off all her hair. It was supposed to be a joke, but when she told me… I don’t know. I just asked her out right then. Ha! That didn’t last either, though. We broke up in a week.”
Brian snorted.
”I’ve never really been too attracted to anyone. Not for long, anyway. I know that sounds terrible, but… I guess I’m picky. I like personality, but for me to consider you, you need looks. Girls with looks don’t have personality. It’s a vicious cycle.” Brian grunted. “What about you?” Jesse asked. “Any girlfriend stories?”
The bed moved as Brian shifted the pillow beneath his head. “Not really,” he confessed slowly. “I find it sort of hard to date, and I really haven’t had a lot of relationships.” He paused for long enough that Jesse almost spoke again, but then said, “My last one was with Corey. We had a lot in common. We were both musicians, liked the same music, we got along really well. Things just sort of fell into place.”
“What happened?”
“Well… we went to different schools, and we didn’t have cars. We lived on opposite sides of town. I guess things just sort of… fell out of place again.”
“That sucks. Did you guys really live that far away? The town’s only so big. Where did she go to school?”
Brian cleared his throat. “Um, actually… your school.”
“Really?” Jesse furrowed his brow, trying to place the name Corey in his head with any of the girls in his classes. “What grade? What’s her name?”
“Um… A-Ashford.”
Jesse blinked into the darkness a long, concentrated, thoughtful blink and felt his heart skip a beat, or maybe several beats, and he exhaled heavily as his pulse began to steadily accelerate. He knew Corey Ashford. He could picture Corey’s face and figure in his mind: black hair, dark eyes, a little bit pale, thin, and usually looking as if he’d forgotten to shave.
“Jesse?” Brian said softly.
It took Jesse three times to say, “Yeah?”
“I… I’ll sleep on the floor.” Brian paused, waited for a response that was not forthcoming, and then sat up, swinging his legs over the side of the bed.
Jesse knew his friend had made the sudden change in decision to eliminate any of Jesse’s discomfort in sleeping in the same bed as someone who, compared to most other boys he slept next to, might pose something of a threat to Jesse’s virginity, innocence and sexuality. What Brian didn’t seem to realize was that the only of those three virtues that Jesse was still certain about was his virginity.
Jesse didn’t realize he’d already thought it through and made his mind up when his arm darted out, connecting with Brian’s on the first try, despite the limited light, his fingers closing around his friend’s bicep, and Jesse sat up, trying to make out Brian’s eyes in the pale, faint glow from the streetlight outside his window.
Jesse didn’t get far in his task, though, because seconds later, Brian leaned slowly, so slowly, toward Jesse, and hesitated less than an inch away, close enough that Jesse could taste the mint of Brian’s hot, damp breath, for Jesse to close the miniscule gap between them, connecting their mouths in a tentative, cautious, permission-requesting kiss.
It was slow and lingering, and Jesse had plenty of time to measure the pressure of Brian’s lips against his own and the sensation of that strange tightness in his stomach that had been plaguing him for weeks, which he now knew was not a bad feeling. Jesse exhaled against Brian’s cheek and ended the kiss.
“Jesse,” Brian whispered. It was a question as to where they stood. But Jesse didn’t want to answer. He just wanted to feel Brian’s lips again.
Jesse kissed his friend a second time. It made sense, now, that it felt so good to be with Brian all the time, it felt so comfortable, and real, and right. His bashfulness made sense, too, uncharacteristic of him, except in the extreme circumstances when he just wanted to impress the other person. Jesse dredged up all the iffy moments in his mind when he acted weird and couldn’t be bothered to realize why: Brian catching him dancing at band practice, smiling like a fool when Brian deemed it appropriate to touch him, even if it was just to push him off a sidewalk or bump into him while they strode side-by-side, and especially tonight, watching Brian play his drums and the breathlessness that ensued from watching him get worked up and sweaty in the passion of the beat. It made sense, now.
Brian was the first to pull away, this time, but neither spoke for a long minute, both staring at one another with straining eyes against the darkness.
“You were serious,” Jesse said. “About keeping those pesky girls away.” Brian nodded. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
“I like hanging out with you too much. I didn’t want to scare you away.”
Jesse shook his head. “I’m not like that. I wouldn’t have stopped being your friend, even if-”
Brian blinked. “Even if?”
Jesse looked down at his hands and shrugged. “Even if,” he mumbled, “even if I wasn’t a little bit the same way.”
“Have you ever had a boyfriend?”
“You’re the first guy I’ve ever kissed Brian, do the math,” Jesse said dryly, bringing enough humour back into the situation to relax both their shoulders.
Brian couldn’t seem to help the grin that split his lips and bared his teeth. Yes, they had kissed. Judging by Brian’s sudden shyness, the reminder was pleasant for both of them. He enjoyed his friend’s downcast eyes and the goofy grin that contagiously spread across his own lips like a delightful infection, a pleasing disease that they now both shared.
“Is this weird?” Brian asked. Strangely, Jesse knew exactly what he meant.
“No. It seems like the first thing that’s ever made sense.”
Brian chuckled. “You’re such a poet, Jesse.”
“Is it weird for you?”
Brian exhaled. “You know what? I thought it would be; that’s why I never did… anything. I thought you’d freak out or… or I don’t know. I though it’d just feel like something got ruined if I ever… if we ever….” Brian shrugged.
“But it’s not?”
The percussionist shook his head and finally looked back up, right into Jesse’s eyes so that when Jesse breathed, he breathed in Brian’s serious intensity, and he flushed under the heat of Brian’s stare, and they both felt him mean it when he said, “No.”
And that? That should have been enough. They should have been able to leave it at that, because Jesse was content, and being one who liked things neatly tied up without the confusion of loose ends, there shouldn’t be a question that this was right. But Brian’s conscience was a tricky bitch, and she made the boy sigh with a shake of his head and say, “Jess, you’re a really good friend. I have way more fun with you than… than fucking anyone else. I don’t want to do anything to jeopardize that.”
“Why do you think that would happen?”
“Because you’re new to this. Maybe you don’t know what you want. Maybe you’re just curious and you’ll decide ‘fuck Brian! He’s a perverted fuck!’”
“I’m not old enough to drink, but I’m old enough to know I want to. I’m not old enough to smoke, but I’m old enough to know I don’t want to. I am old enough to kiss girls. I am old enough to know what it means that they don’t do anything for me. Why wouldn’t I be mature enough to know that I want to kiss you again?” Jesse’s heart throbbed with a little extra force when he saw how Brian’s lips parted for his huffed exhalation of excitement at Jesse’s declaration.
Brian licked his lips. “Just kiss?” he whispered.
Jesse smirked. “For now. Maybe touch… a little. It’s late. And we have all weekend,” he whispered back throatily.
Brian swallowed hastily with an audible croak. “We have longer than that.” His voice was breathy. It was clear what Jesse’s words alone were doing to him, now that Brian was allowing himself the freedom to let them, and why not? He had no reason to hide his obvious attraction any longer. “I don’t want you to do any-”
“Anything I don’t want to do?” Brian closed his lips. “Don’t worry, Bri. I’m usually the one in control, and I’m very vocal about what I want. You won’t have to guess. Jesse slid closer on the bed. Brian’s face was sombre when he looked at Jesse. Jesse wondered how he had never read the signals before. The meaningful glances, covert touches, they were all there; all Brian’s secret gratifications were laid out plainly before Jesse all along. He’d been too blind to his own hidden, buried desires to see that they matched his friend’s. Now his eyes were open and full of possibility. Well… that and lust.
“Are you waiting for something in particular?” Brian asked a moment later, when Jesse was still staring.
Jesse rolled his eyes and closed the gap, attacking Brian’s mouth with his own. This time, though, Jesse decided he’d had enough of chaste brotherly pecks on the mouth. He caught one of Brian’s lips between his own and pulled gently until his mouth opened, and Jesse’s tongue could slip inside. The taste of mint was stronger now, but Jesse’s concern was less about flavour and more about heat, and the texture of stubble against his face, and teeth on his skin, and the smooth, wet slip of tongue against tongue.
Jesse felt pressure on his shoulder, and he realized that Brian’s hand had closed on his shoulder and was pulling him closer. Jesse felt the end of Brian’s t-shirt beneath his fingers before he realized that he was reaching. Brian’s breath hitched as Jesse’s hand pressed solidly against his stomach. Jesse felt fingers lace into his hair. He moaned into Brian’s mouth, and all at once the other boy shifted them both, pushing Jesse back onto the bed and stretching out on top of him.
Jesse’s gasp at the sudden pressure of the other boy’s hip and thigh against his groin broke their kisses. Brian used the separation to his advantage, burying his face in Jesse’s neck. Jesse’s single second of clear thought before Brian’s lips closed over his Adam’s apple were put to good use as he thanked God for Brian’s parents being out of town this weekend. Jesse hadn’t lied when he said he was extremely vocal.
“Oh!” Jesse moaned loudly and tilted his chin up to allow Brian better access.
Jesse slung his arms around Brian’s neck. His eyes drifted shut, and he felt lost in the sensation of Brian’s teeth and tongue and lips on his throat and ears and collarbone. He couldn’t help his growing erection, which, extremely evident in only his thin boxers, would have been embarrassing had the presence of Brian’s own clear physical enjoyment of the situation not dampened the mortification factor to some extent.
Brian drew a trail back to Jesse’s lips with kisses before eagerly thrusting his tongue into the cavern of Jesse’s mouth. It must have taken Brian remarkable self restraint to limit his hands to Jesse’s shoulders and arms, but Jesse wasn’t nearly so reticent. He withdrew his limbs from around Brian’s neck to facilitate his own wanderings. He reduced the space between them until it was negligible with a firm grip on Brian’s shoulder, then traced the definition of Brian’s triceps down to his elbow, and while Jesse’s hand was down there, it was a simple matter to transfer his touch to Brian’s chest.
“Oh!” Brian cried, his lips breaking away from Jesse’s audibly when the guitarist’s deft fingers rubbed deliberately over the hard nub of Brian’s nipple, remembering how tempting they looked earlier, trapped beneath the damp white fabric of Brian’s sweaty t-shirt. Jesse pinched it between his forefinger and thumb and Brian growled a moan, hips pressing down harder against Jesse, seemingly inadvertently.
It was only a moment later that Brian rolled off Jesse and onto his back on the bed.
“Hold on,” he whispered, considerably shorter of breath than a few minutes ago. Jesse watched Brian with fascination as the other boy struggled to regain control. “Fucking hell, Jesse,” he whispered.
“You okay?”
Brian laughed a high pitched and incredulous bark. “I am fucking great. I’m a lot too great, though.” He laughed again, more quietly and controlled this time. “How are you?”
“Probably a little too great, myself,” Jesse responded, not without a sideways smirk.
Brian turned his head to stare into Jesse’s eyes. “You can say that again,” he raised an eyebrow suggestively. Jesse laughed.
Brian reached up with both hands to rub at his face. “I just need to… chill for a minute. I’m sort of worked up.”
“Me too,” Jesse admitted, thanking his pulse for beginning to return to some semblance of normalcy.
“I hope you don’t-” Brian dropped his hands back to his sides and returned his gaze to Jesse. “I don’t mean to stop because I wasn’t enjoying myself. I just think… it’s a bit… fast.”
Jesse’s eyes widened to emphasize his understanding. “Oh, no I know. Don’t worry.” He laughed. “I got a little carried away. I’m sorry if it was out of line-”
“No! No.” Brian laughed. “It was great.” He smiled softly, contentedly at his friend. “I hope you didn’t mind… your neck….”
“Oh!” Jesse put his hand to his throat, remembering Brian’s attentions moments before. “No, that was… nice. It was better than nice. It was… it was very nice.”
Brian laughed at Jesse’s sudden inarticulacy. “Thus spoke poet Lacey,” he whispered wryly.
Jesse shoved him playfully. “Did you… are there marks?”
Brian propped himself up on his elbow to look down at Jesse’s neck in the darkness. He touched Jesse’s chin, moving it this and that way to examine the other boy, who thought nothing of it until Brian had twisted him either way three or four times and Jesse tilted his head with an eyebrow raised in playful derision. Brian beamed down at him and lowered his face for a kiss.
‘Yes,’ Jesse thought. ‘I could get used to this.’
The clock told them it was four-thirty, and the lightening of the sky through Brian’s blinds told them it was time to go to bed, which they would have concluded themselves had they been concentrating as much on their own exhausted features as their eyes and lips and hands.
A quick trip to the bathroom for both of them to cool down and regain the remainder of their composure finally led to them settling back down in Brian’s bed. Brian turned onto his side. Jesse turned his head to face him before deciding it was too stressful for his neck and followed Brian’s example.
A testimony to how tired Jesse was, it took him a full two minutes of staring at Brian before he realized the other was smiling like an idiot.
“What?”
Brian shrugged. “I like this.”
Jesse’s lazy smirk stretched into a grin to mirror Brian’s. “It’s nice.”
Brian reached out across the bed and took Jesse’s hand, so Jesse scooted closer. One more kiss signalled goodnight and the boys fell asleep in minutes, their foreheads touching and hands clasped together.