Taking Back Sunday -- Chapter 8
[Title] Taking Back Sunday
[Author] dejectedmadness
[Rating] Eventually NC-17. This chapter… PG-13 for boykissing/touching/sexual contact.
[Chapter Listing] .:1:. .:2:. .:3:. .:4:. .:5:. .:6:. .:7:. 8/?
[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.
There is angst, sexual gratification (although the IMPORTANT clothes remain ON for the most part) and pretty boylove! I am falling a LITTLE bit in love with Jesse/Brian.
Also, due to Jesse’s choice of words at the end of this chapter, I LOSE! And everyone else who knows about the game? You all lose, too. I’m sorry.
The blood surging through Jesse’s veins had him running off his anger and fear almost the whole way to John’s house. He stopped when he could see his friend’s window from down the block and began to walk his heart rate back to a normal level so that when he reached the front door he wouldn’t still be gasping for air. He saw the light on in John’s room when he got closer and despite his breathlessness, he picked up his pace, heading for the front door.
He hesitated, his hand hovering over the door in mid-knock, and thinking better of his idea he tried the handle, instead. It turned in his grip and the door swung open before him. He closed it quietly and wiped his shoes on the doormat, dropping his jacket and backpack beside the closet in the front hall. He stared up the foreboding stairs. He could hear music seeping through John’s semi-closed door and saw the stream of light from his window cascading onto the wall at the top of the stairs.
As he started to ascend, he recalled all that Shaun had said to him. Jesse wondered again why his best friend would think that he hated him. Only, Shaun had said that wasn’t quite right. He thought he didn’t mean anything to Jesse. Why? Because now that Brian was Jesse’s lover and his friend, Jesse wouldn’t need other friends? It was a stupid thought. Of course Jesse still needed John, and Shaun, and everyone else, but John most of all. He couldn’t imagine being without his best friend. They’d been there for each other forever. Jesse couldn’t remember a time when he’d been upset and not had John to talk to about it, or when he’d had the most ecstatically good time of his life and not been able to share it with his best friend- or at least tell him about it, and have him share in his glee that way. It wasn’t until Brian came along that Jesse had felt wary about telling John everything. “Everything” now consisted of Brian, not fully, but… well, if Jesse wanted to tell John about everything that made him happy, then Brian’s name would fit in there somewhere, and that made John unhappy. Jesse could see the rift between he and his friend, and he knew that it was because of his boyfriend, but Jesse didn’t think it was any fault of either him or Brian.
So John obviously meant something to Jesse. In fact, if Jesse wanted to get picky about who hated whom, he would say that it felt more than anything that John hated him. He had taken off like a bat out of hell after catching Jesse with his metaphorical pants down.
Jesse felt that strange, unfamiliar ache in his chest that he’d been feeling on and off since last night. He knew it was partly fear, but it was more than just that. It was the embodiment of Jesse needing John to be okay with this, of fearing that he wasn’t, and that it would mean the destruction of their friendship. It was Jesse dreading this conversation, the one that would happen when he climbed the last four steps and approached the daunting door across the hall. It was probably imagined physical pain, but Jesse felt it prominently, right above his heart, waiting to lash out and break it to pieces if this didn’t go as Jesse hoped.
He could hear, now, that the music playing wasn’t recorded. It was John with his acoustic guitar, playing and singing along. Jesse didn’t want to eavesdrop, but he was still hesitant to nudge open the partially shut door and announce his presence. He couldn’t hear the words, but it sounded like a lament, and it made the pain in Jesse’s chest double until he felt something catch in his throat. Maybe he shouldn’t have come. Maybe he should have left John for a day or two, like Shaun said. Maybe this was a bad idea.
Jesse shook his head to the unspoken suggestion and swallowed the lump in his throat. He took a step forward and nudged open the door with his toe.
At first glance, Jesse noticed that John looked like he hadn’t slept. His eyes were red and the shadows under them made him seem years older. It also helped that he didn’t look to have shaved that morning. That he didn’t seem to notice his door swinging open testified to his obvious exhaustion. Jesse took another step into the room for good measure, and as expected, his friend looked up from his strings.
It felt like the room got ten degrees colder as Jesse was standing there. John silenced his strings, closed his mouth on the words he was singing, which Jesse still hadn’t bothered to listen to, and stared at Jesse until he shifted and averted his eyes. Jesse couldn’t decipher the look on John’s face. It was cold, he could tell that much, and it told him exactly how welcome he was: not at all. But Jesse didn’t see the sadness that Shaun had promised him. He saw blankness. Jesse would have bet any sum of money that Shaun had been completely full of shit during their conversation earlier; John loathed him, was disgusted at what he’d walked in on last night, and there was no way he would ever forgive Jesse.
Jesse swallowed hard and scratched the back of his leg with the toe of his shoe. “You probably… probably don’t ever want to see me again. I’m sorry. I needed to explain.”
“What’s there to explain?” John asked so softly that Jesse almost wondered whether he had spoken at all.
“What… what you saw last night.”
“I know what I saw last night.”
Jesse looked up and found John’s eyes just as coldly fixed on the centre of Jesse’s chest. “I… I know.”
“So then what are you doing here?” he asked blandly.
“I don’t want you to hate me.”
John didn’t even indulge him with a laugh. Jesse waited for some change of expression on John’s face, but it was plain that although he was listening, he was not about to contribute to this conversation.
Jesse opened his mouth to speak again, but he didn’t know what to say. His voice croaked when he managed to come up with something. “I know that it’s wrong, and it’s probably gross to you, and it’s amoral and a sin and everything else. But I… I can’t help it, John.” John stared at him. Jesse sighed. Was he getting anywhere? “How many girlfriends have I had?”
“A lot,” John responded, and Jesse was relieved that he was at least paying attention.
“A lot,” he agreed with a sigh. “But I’ve never… it’s never lasted very long.” He shrugged. “Girls never interested me as much as he does. They never make me feel like he makes me feel. So… even if it’s a sin, and if it’s wrong, and if it makes you hate me… I like boys, John.” John’s face changed, but Jesse still couldn’t read it. An eyebrow quirked and his mouth parted slightly, softening from the rigid line in which it was previously set. “I can’t help that. I don’t know if I’m… gay… or… maybe I like both. I don’t know. But girls don’t make me feel like Brian makes me feel. If you can’t… if that isn’t cool with you, then… I understand.”
John shook his head. His eyebrow that was quirked faded, and suddenly the expression was much more emotive. John’s eyebrows knit together and made him look wounded instead of angry. Jesse didn’t understand the sudden change.
Jesse waited for John to say something, but after the boy averted his eyes and stared absently across the room for a full two minutes, Jesse decided that the ball was still in his court.
“Okay. Well. I’m going to go.” Jesse’s voice cracked. “Home I think,” he added; he certainly wouldn’t make it through a whole day at school. “I’m sorry.”
That was it, then. Jesse turned to leave. Shaun was wrong. John couldn’t handle it. He couldn’t deal with having a gay best friend. Jesse had thought he knew what heartbreak was, but he hadn’t until now. Now he was the definition. Under “heartbreak” in the dictionary there was a picture of Jesse Lacey with the figure title “emo kid” and maybe a pencil-drawn tear in anime style beside his head. He swallowed hard and often as he blinked rapidly to dissuade himself from weeping. It didn’t work.
“Jesse!” John exclaimed. Jesse heard the guitar fall to the floor, banging and humming with a discordant sound. John scrambled from the bed and was at Jesse’s side by the time he managed to turn around. “Jesse, I don’t hate you! I could never hate you!” Jesse scrubbed at his face, cursing his emotions. Apparently emo was contagious because John’s face was wet with tears, too.
“Why’d you run?” Jesse demanded. “Why won’t you talk to me?” John didn’t answer. “I’m sorry, you know! I didn’t ask to be this way!” his voice warbled with his desperation.
John’s face crumbled, and he averted his eyes, stared down at his feet and shook his head. When he looked back at his friend, Jesse was shocked at the desperation he saw there, like John was pleading for Jesse to understand, but Jesse didn’t! Why was John so upset?
John stepped closer, and Jesse hadn’t thought that he could comfortably get closer. Jesse was puzzling over their proximity still when both of John’s hands touched his face and he could have no doubt about what was happening. John’s lips pressed against his, and Jesse felt the sensation of calm understanding overwhelm him, taking all the tension out of his shoulders. Without thinking about it, Jesse did what he did best when someone kissed him: he kissed back.
John backed off and pressed his lips to Jesse’s again, encouraged by his friend’s reaction, and Jesse found that he didn’t dislike this. As abrupt and as confusing as this was, Jesse liked John’s mouth on his and the scent of his skin and the taste of his toothpaste. Jesse liked it more when he felt John’s tongue, slippery and hot. John’s thumbs swiped at the tears still dotting his cheeks and stroked his jaw, hands tentatively exploring Jesse’s face the same way that Brian’s always did, fingers clasping his curls, desperately holding on lest Jesse’s attack of conscience force him back.
Jesse’s lips disconnected from John’s with a smack. They were both out of breath, which told Jesse that he’d allowed that to go on far longer than he should have. Now that Brian was in Jesse’s mind, and John was standing there, lips still red from the kisses they’d just shared, Jesse felt torn completely in two. He blinked and looked down at his feet.
“John…” he whispered, “what…?”
“I could never hate you for liking guys, Jesse.” He shook his head. “I’ve wanted to do that for years.”
Jesse blinked. “Years?” he asked incredulously. John shrugged again and nodded. “And you never told me? Why?”
“For the same reason you never told me.”
John took his hands from Jesse’s face, and Jesse could feel his renewed tension. John’s shoulders were stiff, but he didn’t step back.
“Did you know about Brian?”
John shrugged. “I got a feeling about him. He’s wanted you since you two met, I think.”
“How did you know?”
John scratched his stubbly face. “I just had a feeling. I didn’t know for sure.”
“That’s why you didn’t like him?”
“He took you away from me, Jesse. You’re supposed to be my best friend, but he gets all your time. And it would have been fine if I knew that he was a girl and that I would never get the attention from you that he did because you liked girls and not boys. If I didn’t have a chance because you were straight, then… it would have been okay, I think. But he can give you friendship and love and sex and whatever all at once. If you liked girls then at least you’d still have time for me, but instead, he’s like some kind of all in one tool. He gives you everything that John and Shaun give you, but with kisses on the side.”
“You didn’t like him before you knew we were together,” Jesse accused.
John looked away. “You get this look in your eyes when you meet a girl you like. It’s mischief and desire and excitement. You got that look in your eye when I saw you with him, or when you talked about him. I hoped that nothing was going on, but… I was scared. I guess I had right to be.” John turned around and walked back to his bed, where he sat heavily. Jesse followed and took the spot beside his friend.
“You know… if you hadn’t been so anti-Brian right from the start, I never would have felt the need to separate him from you.”
“How would that have helped?”
“Well you would have seen that as good a friend as he is, you’re still my best friend, John.”
“But he’s your lover,” John commented dejectedly.
Jesse flinched. “He’s my boyfriend,” he corrected, although he wasn’t sure that John would see the difference.
His friend faced him. “And I’m just your friend,” John declared pointedly.
Jesse frowned. “John-”
“I’m sorry, Jess. I don’t want to push you away. If I can’t have you as… more than what we are… I’ll take what I can get.”
Jesse thought his heart was breaking. When did things get so complicated?
“We don’t have to talk about it. I won’t mention it. I’ll even try to get along with Brian. I promise. But…” John peered at him pleadingly, “just tell me one thing. Did you feel nothing?”
Jesse wasn’t sure how to answer that question. He thoughtfully stared back at John as he considered his increased heart rate, his sweaty palms, and the way his face got hot and his lips tingled when John had kissed him. John was his best friend; he loved him, and he would likely never stop loving him. But how did that differ from what he felt for Brian? His heart raced the same way as when Brian kissed and touched him. He’d never felt anything but safe with John. John was gentle and handsome. Had he felt nothing in that kiss? Decidedly not: Jesse had most assuredly felt something, indefinable though it may have been.
John leaned forward as Jesse considered, and to remind him, or to tease him, or to beg permission, John pressed his lips against Jesse’s again. He slipped his tongue past Jesse’s teeth. Jesse felt heat in his stomach, and it spread through his limbs, making his body tingle. Jesse reached out for something to hold onto, to steady him, because the sensation was going to his head. He felt dizzy and disoriented, even as his hand clasped John’s thigh. Encouraged, his friend grabbed Jesse around his upper arm, and he felt John’s hand on his face again. Jesse knew that this was a bad idea, but it felt good, and Jesse had been feeling bad when it came to his friend for too long, so he let John kiss him and tug him closer, and he pretended he was trying to decide what he was feeling. Amongst the lips and teeth and tongues, and besides the hands and heavy breathing, Jesse felt warm, and he felt wanted, and he felt more than a little turned on. He felt good, but for the nagging reminder that Brian was still his boyfriend.
John had slid closer to Jesse, and Jesse’s hand had migrated to John’s waist, but before John could manage to actually slide into Jesse’s lap, Jesse jumped up from the bed.
“Oh my God!” he breathed.
John stood, too, but he didn’t say anything. The boys both panted with arousal. Jesse covered his mouth with both hands as if by breathing through them, he could more easily catch his breath.
“Shit,” Jesse mumbled, turning to face out John’s window at the bright, sunshiny day whose cheerful countenance couldn’t help but mock him for his fluctuating emotions.
“Jess,” John said softly. No doubt he thought he’d crossed a crucial line. But Jesse wasn’t angry so much as he was confused. How was this, what he felt now with John, better or worse or different at all from what he had with Brian? “Jess, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have….”
Jesse’s shoulders dropped. God, what now? He faced his friend. “John….”
“You don’t have to explain, Jesse. I get it.”
Jesse closed his mouth. How could John get it when Jesse himself didn’t understand? What was wrong with him? Fuck!
“I’m not him.” John didn’t sound angry so much as he did dejected and depressed.
Jesse looked away again. “It isn’t even that, John,” he confessed, although he wasn’t sure how true that was; Jesse was veritably infatuated with Brian, and logic and reasoning just didn’t factor into how he felt with the other boy. For the sake of John’s feelings and his ego, Jesse left it at that, however. “Fuck, if you’d done that three months ago…. But Brian’s my boyfriend. I can’t just….”
John smirked. “If it was me first, you’d have told him the same thing, right?”
Jesse shrugged and nodded. John looked a little angry again. “It’s not that I don’t like you, John, and I don’t love Brian, not by a long shot,” although he did like him a very lot, “but I have a commitment to him, now. What just happened… that’s cheating, and… I’m going to have to tell him it happened, and that it won’t happen again. It can’t. It can’t happen again, but I don’t want you to hate me because I chose him.”
John nodded and turned away from Jesse. “He got there first, so he gets to kiss you, and I just get to be your best friend.”
“Best friend was always enough for you before,” Jesse said, wishing he didn’t sound like the world’s biggest asshole.
“Are you going to be able to act like nothing happened here?” John asked.
“I’m not going to stop being your friend, and I can’t be anything more than your friend, John, so I’m going to have to figure out how to act like nothing happened.”
“Even considering how good it obviously felt to… do that? You can just forget it?” John’s voice cracked.
“John, don’t make this hard!” Jesse begged.
“Why him? Why him and not me?” John pleaded. The tears had returned to his eyes. Jesse felt that familiar choking sensation that came upon him when he was trying not to cry.
“John, please-”
John laughed and shook his head. “I feel like such a fool,” he commented.
“You’re not-”
“Don’t. Just… just don’t, Jess.”
“John-”
“You know, I think it would be best if we didn’t hang out for a while, Jesse.”
“John,” Jesse cried, “no!”
John faced his friend again. “It’s for the best.”
“For who? You’re my-”
“Maybe I shouldn’t be!” he yelled. “Maybe it should be Brian from now on!”
Jesse gaped. “No,” he declared. “John….”
“Shouldn’t you be at school, Jesse?” John commented, seemingly indifferent aside from the water on his cheeks.
Jesse bit off his additional protestations. “Shouldn’t you?” he retorted softly. His heart wasn’t in it.
“I’m sick,” John stated simply. “And you’re missing math.” He turned away, clearly expecting Jesse to take the hint and let himself out.
“I’m not going back to the school,” Jesse announced, contrarily.
“Then go find your boyfriend!” John yelled over his shoulder.
“John-”
He turned to face Jesse fully. “Get out, Jesse!” he screamed, followed by a gut-wrenching sob. “Please, just go!” Jesse couldn’t bear for John to scream at him to leave any longer.
He heard his friend slam his bedroom door behind him as Jesse went back downstairs. He put on his jacket and grabbed his bag, shutting the door on his way out.
***
Jesse felt out of place walking around looking at the strange pink and tope walls, even though no one could see his dress shirt and tie under his jacket and a pair of dark blue slacks and chucks weren’t exactly out of place here, although they weren’t exactly commonplace either. He wasn’t getting stares or anything, so he figured he wasn’t in trouble yet. However, being that Jesse had never been in Brian’s school before, and he’d never really taken an interest in what classes Brian had at what time, he was completely lost, and dread settled back into his stomach.
Jesse sighed as he started going through the halls, peering through what classroom windows there were and looking for his boyfriend’s familiar face or any of his friends. Only every other room, though, was equipped with a window in the door, and through that window, Jesse could barely see the first few rows of students. This was looking hopeless, he thought, as he approached the next door. Maybe he could go to the office and give them Brian’s license plate number and tell them his lights were on or something. He glanced through the next window at what appeared to be an English class, and there, in the front row, was the familiar shaggy brown hair and bright eyes of Mr. Lane himself.
Jesse exhaled in relief. The teacher’s back was to the door, so Jesse felt safe waving his arms to try to get Brian’s attention. He jumped up and down in front of the window and waved his hand across it a number of times, but unfortunately, Brian was completely oblivious to his presence. His face was buried in his novel and he had a handful of post-it notes to stick on the pages.
Jesse kept trying, though, and after a few minutes, a girl in the third row saw him and waved back. Jesse smiled and waved, then pointed at Brian and mouthed his name. The girl pointed at Brian, too. “Brian Lane?” she mouthed at him. Jesse nodded. She glanced at the teacher, probably hoping for him to turn around long enough for whatever she had to do, but after a minute she sighed emphatically and scribbled something onto a piece of paper, then carelessly knocked her whole pencil case onto the floor. Brian bent down, as expected, to help her pick up her pens and highlighters, and she passed him the piece of paper. Brian glanced back at her, passed her the pencil in his hand, and sat back up in his seat. He glanced at the paper and then up at the window.
Jesse resumed waving like an idiot until Brian frowned and mouthed, ‘What are you doing here?’
Jesse didn’t know how to tell him without actually speaking to him, so he mouthed the only word that would matter. ‘John.’
Brian glanced at his teacher again and sought in his binder for a slip of paper, presumably to forge a note from his mother. A second passed, though, and he didn’t manage to get very far in writing his fake note, which was actually fine, considering the girl in the third row tapped the guy in front of her on the shoulder and handed him a slip of paper, which he then passed to Brian. He sighed with clear relief and glanced back at her before raising his hand.
Jesse stepped away from the door as the teacher listened to Brian’s excuse, read the girl’s forgery, and allowed him to leave the class, but not before mouthing to the girl a quick ‘thanks,’ to which she winked in reply.
Brian shut the door behind him and turned to Jesse. “What happened?”
Jesse couldn’t think of what to say. All the words that came to mind caught in his throat, and he felt like he might choke to death as soon as get them out. Brian must have sensed his distress, either that or he had eyes and could see that Jesse’s was face screwed up in obvious misery, and he looked like he might burst into tears any moment, because he didn’t hesitate to put his arms around Jesse so his boyfriend could press his face into his neck and breathe the familiar, comforting scent of Brian’s aftershave and the cream rinse in his hair.
“Come on,” Brian said. “Let’s go home.”
***
Jesse was silent for the whole ride back to Brian’s house. He felt cold inside, even when Brian led him up to his room and settled with Jesse on the bed, The Smiths playing softly in the background so that the silence didn’t weigh so heavily on the boys. Jesse let Brian entwine their fingers. He tucked his face against Brian’s neck. He felt safe and content and perfect. At least one thing about Jesse’s relationship with Brian was different from what he felt with John. At least Brian didn’t make him feel like he had done something wrong, or like the slightest wrong move would set him off. Jesse didn’t feel the need to explain to Brian why he was so upset. Brian would wait until he was ready to talk.
Brian kissed Jesse’s head and wrapped his unoccupied arm around his shoulders so he could finger the hair at the nape of Jesse’s neck. Jesse’s grip tightened on Brian’s hand. Brian squeezed back.
“I was wrong about what John thought.”
Brian stopped twirling the hair around his fingers for a second while he processed that Jesse was finally ready to talk. When he started up again, Jesse continued.
“He didn’t come to school this morning, but Shaun caught up to me. He told me I was a fucking idiot and that John had known that you were going to take me from him all along. This was exactly what he had meant. Well… not this specifically, because there’s no way he could have known, but… you know?”
Brian nodded, nudging Jesse’s head with the movement. “So you went to see John?” Brian guessed.
“Yeah. He stayed home. I, you know, I apologized to him for… for not telling him. I told him that I can’t change how I feel, even if it’s a sin against God and it’s immoral and whatever. I said that if he couldn’t handle having a gay best friend, or a bisexual best friend, or… whatever it is I am… then I understood.”
“What did he say?” Brian asked, not pressing, just expressing interest.
Jesse swallowed. “He kissed me.”
Brian leaned back to look at Jesse. Ashamed, Jess averted his eyes, but Brian kissed his forehead, and he gained the courage to look up.
“He said that he’s liked me for years.”
“Wow,” Brian commented. “And he never said anything?”
“He thought just like I thought: that I’d hate him if I found out, which is ridiculous, but I guess I can’t blame him. You can know everything there is to know about someone, but you just can’t know how he’ll react to that.” Jesse shrugged.
“At least he doesn’t hate you,” Brian commented.
Jesse didn’t say anything to that.
“Jesse?” Brian asked, clearly realizing his remark might have been premature.
“Well… he asked me whether I felt anything when he kissed me, and he kissed me again, I think to prove that I… I would let him.”
“I see,” Brian said softly.
Jesse swallowed at the indefinable tone of Brian’s voice. His fingers stopped moving against Jesse’s neck. “He asked me why you? Why not him? Obviously it felt good to kiss him; he wanted to know why we couldn’t be together. And he was so resentful that all he got to be was my best friend while you get to touch me and kiss me.” Jesse shook his head. “I told him that nothing can happen between me and him, and we had to forget about it.” Jesse felt tears well in his eyes again, remembering how angry John was when he told Jesse to leave.
“Why?” Brian whispered softly. Jesse looked at him. “Why me and not him? He’s your best friend, Jesse.”
Jesse would not have expected Brian to be capable of such vulnerability as he saw on his face just then. The drummer was trying to look innocently curious, even disinterested and detached, but the nervous crease in his forehead told Jesse volumes about Brian’s insecurity. Jesse blinked. “Because he’s not you. If he’d come to me three months ago, before I met you, I might have gone for it, but then again, maybe not. It would be hard to try anything romantic when it might cost you an eternity of friendship. Maybe I would have turned him down then, too.” Jesse shrugged. “But he waited until I was already infatuated with you, and then he accosted me after making me upset and angry and after having me argue with him for weeks over whether you were an asshole or not. He might turn me on, but I’m a teenage boy; trees might turn me on if I let them.” Brian smirked. “He’s not you, and you are. So you win.”
Brian smiled and kissed Jesse briefly on the lips, a ‘thank you,’ Jesse thought, for picking Brian over John.
“So then what happened,” Brian asked, “after you told him you were going to stay with me?”
Jesse had to swallow hard against the lump in his throat again. “Well… he said he would try to be my friend, if he couldn’t have me any other way. And then we argued some more. And then… he said he thought it would be best if we didn’t hang out for a while.” Jesse’s voice warbled when he finished, “And then he started yelling for me to get out.” Jesse closed his eyes on the tears and huddled into Brian’s chest again. Brian squeezed his hand and held him more tightly.
“God Jess, I’m so sorry.”
They just lay like that for a long time, Brian rubbing Jesse’s back as he sobbed into his chest. Brian didn’t speak anything but comforting words, and he didn’t let go, and why should he? The number one opposing force against their relationship had been put in his place, and Brian had won Jesse. Jesse knew that Brian would never gloat at Jesse’s pain, but he couldn’t be sorry about what had happened, considering he had come out on top.
[Author] dejectedmadness
[Rating] Eventually NC-17. This chapter… PG-13 for boykissing/touching/sexual contact.
[Chapter Listing] .:1:. .:2:. .:3:. .:4:. .:5:. .:6:. .:7:. 8/?
[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.
There is angst, sexual gratification (although the IMPORTANT clothes remain ON for the most part) and pretty boylove! I am falling a LITTLE bit in love with Jesse/Brian.
Also, due to Jesse’s choice of words at the end of this chapter, I LOSE! And everyone else who knows about the game? You all lose, too. I’m sorry.
The blood surging through Jesse’s veins had him running off his anger and fear almost the whole way to John’s house. He stopped when he could see his friend’s window from down the block and began to walk his heart rate back to a normal level so that when he reached the front door he wouldn’t still be gasping for air. He saw the light on in John’s room when he got closer and despite his breathlessness, he picked up his pace, heading for the front door.
He hesitated, his hand hovering over the door in mid-knock, and thinking better of his idea he tried the handle, instead. It turned in his grip and the door swung open before him. He closed it quietly and wiped his shoes on the doormat, dropping his jacket and backpack beside the closet in the front hall. He stared up the foreboding stairs. He could hear music seeping through John’s semi-closed door and saw the stream of light from his window cascading onto the wall at the top of the stairs.
As he started to ascend, he recalled all that Shaun had said to him. Jesse wondered again why his best friend would think that he hated him. Only, Shaun had said that wasn’t quite right. He thought he didn’t mean anything to Jesse. Why? Because now that Brian was Jesse’s lover and his friend, Jesse wouldn’t need other friends? It was a stupid thought. Of course Jesse still needed John, and Shaun, and everyone else, but John most of all. He couldn’t imagine being without his best friend. They’d been there for each other forever. Jesse couldn’t remember a time when he’d been upset and not had John to talk to about it, or when he’d had the most ecstatically good time of his life and not been able to share it with his best friend- or at least tell him about it, and have him share in his glee that way. It wasn’t until Brian came along that Jesse had felt wary about telling John everything. “Everything” now consisted of Brian, not fully, but… well, if Jesse wanted to tell John about everything that made him happy, then Brian’s name would fit in there somewhere, and that made John unhappy. Jesse could see the rift between he and his friend, and he knew that it was because of his boyfriend, but Jesse didn’t think it was any fault of either him or Brian.
So John obviously meant something to Jesse. In fact, if Jesse wanted to get picky about who hated whom, he would say that it felt more than anything that John hated him. He had taken off like a bat out of hell after catching Jesse with his metaphorical pants down.
Jesse felt that strange, unfamiliar ache in his chest that he’d been feeling on and off since last night. He knew it was partly fear, but it was more than just that. It was the embodiment of Jesse needing John to be okay with this, of fearing that he wasn’t, and that it would mean the destruction of their friendship. It was Jesse dreading this conversation, the one that would happen when he climbed the last four steps and approached the daunting door across the hall. It was probably imagined physical pain, but Jesse felt it prominently, right above his heart, waiting to lash out and break it to pieces if this didn’t go as Jesse hoped.
He could hear, now, that the music playing wasn’t recorded. It was John with his acoustic guitar, playing and singing along. Jesse didn’t want to eavesdrop, but he was still hesitant to nudge open the partially shut door and announce his presence. He couldn’t hear the words, but it sounded like a lament, and it made the pain in Jesse’s chest double until he felt something catch in his throat. Maybe he shouldn’t have come. Maybe he should have left John for a day or two, like Shaun said. Maybe this was a bad idea.
Jesse shook his head to the unspoken suggestion and swallowed the lump in his throat. He took a step forward and nudged open the door with his toe.
At first glance, Jesse noticed that John looked like he hadn’t slept. His eyes were red and the shadows under them made him seem years older. It also helped that he didn’t look to have shaved that morning. That he didn’t seem to notice his door swinging open testified to his obvious exhaustion. Jesse took another step into the room for good measure, and as expected, his friend looked up from his strings.
It felt like the room got ten degrees colder as Jesse was standing there. John silenced his strings, closed his mouth on the words he was singing, which Jesse still hadn’t bothered to listen to, and stared at Jesse until he shifted and averted his eyes. Jesse couldn’t decipher the look on John’s face. It was cold, he could tell that much, and it told him exactly how welcome he was: not at all. But Jesse didn’t see the sadness that Shaun had promised him. He saw blankness. Jesse would have bet any sum of money that Shaun had been completely full of shit during their conversation earlier; John loathed him, was disgusted at what he’d walked in on last night, and there was no way he would ever forgive Jesse.
Jesse swallowed hard and scratched the back of his leg with the toe of his shoe. “You probably… probably don’t ever want to see me again. I’m sorry. I needed to explain.”
“What’s there to explain?” John asked so softly that Jesse almost wondered whether he had spoken at all.
“What… what you saw last night.”
“I know what I saw last night.”
Jesse looked up and found John’s eyes just as coldly fixed on the centre of Jesse’s chest. “I… I know.”
“So then what are you doing here?” he asked blandly.
“I don’t want you to hate me.”
John didn’t even indulge him with a laugh. Jesse waited for some change of expression on John’s face, but it was plain that although he was listening, he was not about to contribute to this conversation.
Jesse opened his mouth to speak again, but he didn’t know what to say. His voice croaked when he managed to come up with something. “I know that it’s wrong, and it’s probably gross to you, and it’s amoral and a sin and everything else. But I… I can’t help it, John.” John stared at him. Jesse sighed. Was he getting anywhere? “How many girlfriends have I had?”
“A lot,” John responded, and Jesse was relieved that he was at least paying attention.
“A lot,” he agreed with a sigh. “But I’ve never… it’s never lasted very long.” He shrugged. “Girls never interested me as much as he does. They never make me feel like he makes me feel. So… even if it’s a sin, and if it’s wrong, and if it makes you hate me… I like boys, John.” John’s face changed, but Jesse still couldn’t read it. An eyebrow quirked and his mouth parted slightly, softening from the rigid line in which it was previously set. “I can’t help that. I don’t know if I’m… gay… or… maybe I like both. I don’t know. But girls don’t make me feel like Brian makes me feel. If you can’t… if that isn’t cool with you, then… I understand.”
John shook his head. His eyebrow that was quirked faded, and suddenly the expression was much more emotive. John’s eyebrows knit together and made him look wounded instead of angry. Jesse didn’t understand the sudden change.
Jesse waited for John to say something, but after the boy averted his eyes and stared absently across the room for a full two minutes, Jesse decided that the ball was still in his court.
“Okay. Well. I’m going to go.” Jesse’s voice cracked. “Home I think,” he added; he certainly wouldn’t make it through a whole day at school. “I’m sorry.”
That was it, then. Jesse turned to leave. Shaun was wrong. John couldn’t handle it. He couldn’t deal with having a gay best friend. Jesse had thought he knew what heartbreak was, but he hadn’t until now. Now he was the definition. Under “heartbreak” in the dictionary there was a picture of Jesse Lacey with the figure title “emo kid” and maybe a pencil-drawn tear in anime style beside his head. He swallowed hard and often as he blinked rapidly to dissuade himself from weeping. It didn’t work.
“Jesse!” John exclaimed. Jesse heard the guitar fall to the floor, banging and humming with a discordant sound. John scrambled from the bed and was at Jesse’s side by the time he managed to turn around. “Jesse, I don’t hate you! I could never hate you!” Jesse scrubbed at his face, cursing his emotions. Apparently emo was contagious because John’s face was wet with tears, too.
“Why’d you run?” Jesse demanded. “Why won’t you talk to me?” John didn’t answer. “I’m sorry, you know! I didn’t ask to be this way!” his voice warbled with his desperation.
John’s face crumbled, and he averted his eyes, stared down at his feet and shook his head. When he looked back at his friend, Jesse was shocked at the desperation he saw there, like John was pleading for Jesse to understand, but Jesse didn’t! Why was John so upset?
John stepped closer, and Jesse hadn’t thought that he could comfortably get closer. Jesse was puzzling over their proximity still when both of John’s hands touched his face and he could have no doubt about what was happening. John’s lips pressed against his, and Jesse felt the sensation of calm understanding overwhelm him, taking all the tension out of his shoulders. Without thinking about it, Jesse did what he did best when someone kissed him: he kissed back.
John backed off and pressed his lips to Jesse’s again, encouraged by his friend’s reaction, and Jesse found that he didn’t dislike this. As abrupt and as confusing as this was, Jesse liked John’s mouth on his and the scent of his skin and the taste of his toothpaste. Jesse liked it more when he felt John’s tongue, slippery and hot. John’s thumbs swiped at the tears still dotting his cheeks and stroked his jaw, hands tentatively exploring Jesse’s face the same way that Brian’s always did, fingers clasping his curls, desperately holding on lest Jesse’s attack of conscience force him back.
Jesse’s lips disconnected from John’s with a smack. They were both out of breath, which told Jesse that he’d allowed that to go on far longer than he should have. Now that Brian was in Jesse’s mind, and John was standing there, lips still red from the kisses they’d just shared, Jesse felt torn completely in two. He blinked and looked down at his feet.
“John…” he whispered, “what…?”
“I could never hate you for liking guys, Jesse.” He shook his head. “I’ve wanted to do that for years.”
Jesse blinked. “Years?” he asked incredulously. John shrugged again and nodded. “And you never told me? Why?”
“For the same reason you never told me.”
John took his hands from Jesse’s face, and Jesse could feel his renewed tension. John’s shoulders were stiff, but he didn’t step back.
“Did you know about Brian?”
John shrugged. “I got a feeling about him. He’s wanted you since you two met, I think.”
“How did you know?”
John scratched his stubbly face. “I just had a feeling. I didn’t know for sure.”
“That’s why you didn’t like him?”
“He took you away from me, Jesse. You’re supposed to be my best friend, but he gets all your time. And it would have been fine if I knew that he was a girl and that I would never get the attention from you that he did because you liked girls and not boys. If I didn’t have a chance because you were straight, then… it would have been okay, I think. But he can give you friendship and love and sex and whatever all at once. If you liked girls then at least you’d still have time for me, but instead, he’s like some kind of all in one tool. He gives you everything that John and Shaun give you, but with kisses on the side.”
“You didn’t like him before you knew we were together,” Jesse accused.
John looked away. “You get this look in your eyes when you meet a girl you like. It’s mischief and desire and excitement. You got that look in your eye when I saw you with him, or when you talked about him. I hoped that nothing was going on, but… I was scared. I guess I had right to be.” John turned around and walked back to his bed, where he sat heavily. Jesse followed and took the spot beside his friend.
“You know… if you hadn’t been so anti-Brian right from the start, I never would have felt the need to separate him from you.”
“How would that have helped?”
“Well you would have seen that as good a friend as he is, you’re still my best friend, John.”
“But he’s your lover,” John commented dejectedly.
Jesse flinched. “He’s my boyfriend,” he corrected, although he wasn’t sure that John would see the difference.
His friend faced him. “And I’m just your friend,” John declared pointedly.
Jesse frowned. “John-”
“I’m sorry, Jess. I don’t want to push you away. If I can’t have you as… more than what we are… I’ll take what I can get.”
Jesse thought his heart was breaking. When did things get so complicated?
“We don’t have to talk about it. I won’t mention it. I’ll even try to get along with Brian. I promise. But…” John peered at him pleadingly, “just tell me one thing. Did you feel nothing?”
Jesse wasn’t sure how to answer that question. He thoughtfully stared back at John as he considered his increased heart rate, his sweaty palms, and the way his face got hot and his lips tingled when John had kissed him. John was his best friend; he loved him, and he would likely never stop loving him. But how did that differ from what he felt for Brian? His heart raced the same way as when Brian kissed and touched him. He’d never felt anything but safe with John. John was gentle and handsome. Had he felt nothing in that kiss? Decidedly not: Jesse had most assuredly felt something, indefinable though it may have been.
John leaned forward as Jesse considered, and to remind him, or to tease him, or to beg permission, John pressed his lips against Jesse’s again. He slipped his tongue past Jesse’s teeth. Jesse felt heat in his stomach, and it spread through his limbs, making his body tingle. Jesse reached out for something to hold onto, to steady him, because the sensation was going to his head. He felt dizzy and disoriented, even as his hand clasped John’s thigh. Encouraged, his friend grabbed Jesse around his upper arm, and he felt John’s hand on his face again. Jesse knew that this was a bad idea, but it felt good, and Jesse had been feeling bad when it came to his friend for too long, so he let John kiss him and tug him closer, and he pretended he was trying to decide what he was feeling. Amongst the lips and teeth and tongues, and besides the hands and heavy breathing, Jesse felt warm, and he felt wanted, and he felt more than a little turned on. He felt good, but for the nagging reminder that Brian was still his boyfriend.
John had slid closer to Jesse, and Jesse’s hand had migrated to John’s waist, but before John could manage to actually slide into Jesse’s lap, Jesse jumped up from the bed.
“Oh my God!” he breathed.
John stood, too, but he didn’t say anything. The boys both panted with arousal. Jesse covered his mouth with both hands as if by breathing through them, he could more easily catch his breath.
“Shit,” Jesse mumbled, turning to face out John’s window at the bright, sunshiny day whose cheerful countenance couldn’t help but mock him for his fluctuating emotions.
“Jess,” John said softly. No doubt he thought he’d crossed a crucial line. But Jesse wasn’t angry so much as he was confused. How was this, what he felt now with John, better or worse or different at all from what he had with Brian? “Jess, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have….”
Jesse’s shoulders dropped. God, what now? He faced his friend. “John….”
“You don’t have to explain, Jesse. I get it.”
Jesse closed his mouth. How could John get it when Jesse himself didn’t understand? What was wrong with him? Fuck!
“I’m not him.” John didn’t sound angry so much as he did dejected and depressed.
Jesse looked away again. “It isn’t even that, John,” he confessed, although he wasn’t sure how true that was; Jesse was veritably infatuated with Brian, and logic and reasoning just didn’t factor into how he felt with the other boy. For the sake of John’s feelings and his ego, Jesse left it at that, however. “Fuck, if you’d done that three months ago…. But Brian’s my boyfriend. I can’t just….”
John smirked. “If it was me first, you’d have told him the same thing, right?”
Jesse shrugged and nodded. John looked a little angry again. “It’s not that I don’t like you, John, and I don’t love Brian, not by a long shot,” although he did like him a very lot, “but I have a commitment to him, now. What just happened… that’s cheating, and… I’m going to have to tell him it happened, and that it won’t happen again. It can’t. It can’t happen again, but I don’t want you to hate me because I chose him.”
John nodded and turned away from Jesse. “He got there first, so he gets to kiss you, and I just get to be your best friend.”
“Best friend was always enough for you before,” Jesse said, wishing he didn’t sound like the world’s biggest asshole.
“Are you going to be able to act like nothing happened here?” John asked.
“I’m not going to stop being your friend, and I can’t be anything more than your friend, John, so I’m going to have to figure out how to act like nothing happened.”
“Even considering how good it obviously felt to… do that? You can just forget it?” John’s voice cracked.
“John, don’t make this hard!” Jesse begged.
“Why him? Why him and not me?” John pleaded. The tears had returned to his eyes. Jesse felt that familiar choking sensation that came upon him when he was trying not to cry.
“John, please-”
John laughed and shook his head. “I feel like such a fool,” he commented.
“You’re not-”
“Don’t. Just… just don’t, Jess.”
“John-”
“You know, I think it would be best if we didn’t hang out for a while, Jesse.”
“John,” Jesse cried, “no!”
John faced his friend again. “It’s for the best.”
“For who? You’re my-”
“Maybe I shouldn’t be!” he yelled. “Maybe it should be Brian from now on!”
Jesse gaped. “No,” he declared. “John….”
“Shouldn’t you be at school, Jesse?” John commented, seemingly indifferent aside from the water on his cheeks.
Jesse bit off his additional protestations. “Shouldn’t you?” he retorted softly. His heart wasn’t in it.
“I’m sick,” John stated simply. “And you’re missing math.” He turned away, clearly expecting Jesse to take the hint and let himself out.
“I’m not going back to the school,” Jesse announced, contrarily.
“Then go find your boyfriend!” John yelled over his shoulder.
“John-”
He turned to face Jesse fully. “Get out, Jesse!” he screamed, followed by a gut-wrenching sob. “Please, just go!” Jesse couldn’t bear for John to scream at him to leave any longer.
He heard his friend slam his bedroom door behind him as Jesse went back downstairs. He put on his jacket and grabbed his bag, shutting the door on his way out.
***
Jesse felt out of place walking around looking at the strange pink and tope walls, even though no one could see his dress shirt and tie under his jacket and a pair of dark blue slacks and chucks weren’t exactly out of place here, although they weren’t exactly commonplace either. He wasn’t getting stares or anything, so he figured he wasn’t in trouble yet. However, being that Jesse had never been in Brian’s school before, and he’d never really taken an interest in what classes Brian had at what time, he was completely lost, and dread settled back into his stomach.
Jesse sighed as he started going through the halls, peering through what classroom windows there were and looking for his boyfriend’s familiar face or any of his friends. Only every other room, though, was equipped with a window in the door, and through that window, Jesse could barely see the first few rows of students. This was looking hopeless, he thought, as he approached the next door. Maybe he could go to the office and give them Brian’s license plate number and tell them his lights were on or something. He glanced through the next window at what appeared to be an English class, and there, in the front row, was the familiar shaggy brown hair and bright eyes of Mr. Lane himself.
Jesse exhaled in relief. The teacher’s back was to the door, so Jesse felt safe waving his arms to try to get Brian’s attention. He jumped up and down in front of the window and waved his hand across it a number of times, but unfortunately, Brian was completely oblivious to his presence. His face was buried in his novel and he had a handful of post-it notes to stick on the pages.
Jesse kept trying, though, and after a few minutes, a girl in the third row saw him and waved back. Jesse smiled and waved, then pointed at Brian and mouthed his name. The girl pointed at Brian, too. “Brian Lane?” she mouthed at him. Jesse nodded. She glanced at the teacher, probably hoping for him to turn around long enough for whatever she had to do, but after a minute she sighed emphatically and scribbled something onto a piece of paper, then carelessly knocked her whole pencil case onto the floor. Brian bent down, as expected, to help her pick up her pens and highlighters, and she passed him the piece of paper. Brian glanced back at her, passed her the pencil in his hand, and sat back up in his seat. He glanced at the paper and then up at the window.
Jesse resumed waving like an idiot until Brian frowned and mouthed, ‘What are you doing here?’
Jesse didn’t know how to tell him without actually speaking to him, so he mouthed the only word that would matter. ‘John.’
Brian glanced at his teacher again and sought in his binder for a slip of paper, presumably to forge a note from his mother. A second passed, though, and he didn’t manage to get very far in writing his fake note, which was actually fine, considering the girl in the third row tapped the guy in front of her on the shoulder and handed him a slip of paper, which he then passed to Brian. He sighed with clear relief and glanced back at her before raising his hand.
Jesse stepped away from the door as the teacher listened to Brian’s excuse, read the girl’s forgery, and allowed him to leave the class, but not before mouthing to the girl a quick ‘thanks,’ to which she winked in reply.
Brian shut the door behind him and turned to Jesse. “What happened?”
Jesse couldn’t think of what to say. All the words that came to mind caught in his throat, and he felt like he might choke to death as soon as get them out. Brian must have sensed his distress, either that or he had eyes and could see that Jesse’s was face screwed up in obvious misery, and he looked like he might burst into tears any moment, because he didn’t hesitate to put his arms around Jesse so his boyfriend could press his face into his neck and breathe the familiar, comforting scent of Brian’s aftershave and the cream rinse in his hair.
“Come on,” Brian said. “Let’s go home.”
***
Jesse was silent for the whole ride back to Brian’s house. He felt cold inside, even when Brian led him up to his room and settled with Jesse on the bed, The Smiths playing softly in the background so that the silence didn’t weigh so heavily on the boys. Jesse let Brian entwine their fingers. He tucked his face against Brian’s neck. He felt safe and content and perfect. At least one thing about Jesse’s relationship with Brian was different from what he felt with John. At least Brian didn’t make him feel like he had done something wrong, or like the slightest wrong move would set him off. Jesse didn’t feel the need to explain to Brian why he was so upset. Brian would wait until he was ready to talk.
Brian kissed Jesse’s head and wrapped his unoccupied arm around his shoulders so he could finger the hair at the nape of Jesse’s neck. Jesse’s grip tightened on Brian’s hand. Brian squeezed back.
“I was wrong about what John thought.”
Brian stopped twirling the hair around his fingers for a second while he processed that Jesse was finally ready to talk. When he started up again, Jesse continued.
“He didn’t come to school this morning, but Shaun caught up to me. He told me I was a fucking idiot and that John had known that you were going to take me from him all along. This was exactly what he had meant. Well… not this specifically, because there’s no way he could have known, but… you know?”
Brian nodded, nudging Jesse’s head with the movement. “So you went to see John?” Brian guessed.
“Yeah. He stayed home. I, you know, I apologized to him for… for not telling him. I told him that I can’t change how I feel, even if it’s a sin against God and it’s immoral and whatever. I said that if he couldn’t handle having a gay best friend, or a bisexual best friend, or… whatever it is I am… then I understood.”
“What did he say?” Brian asked, not pressing, just expressing interest.
Jesse swallowed. “He kissed me.”
Brian leaned back to look at Jesse. Ashamed, Jess averted his eyes, but Brian kissed his forehead, and he gained the courage to look up.
“He said that he’s liked me for years.”
“Wow,” Brian commented. “And he never said anything?”
“He thought just like I thought: that I’d hate him if I found out, which is ridiculous, but I guess I can’t blame him. You can know everything there is to know about someone, but you just can’t know how he’ll react to that.” Jesse shrugged.
“At least he doesn’t hate you,” Brian commented.
Jesse didn’t say anything to that.
“Jesse?” Brian asked, clearly realizing his remark might have been premature.
“Well… he asked me whether I felt anything when he kissed me, and he kissed me again, I think to prove that I… I would let him.”
“I see,” Brian said softly.
Jesse swallowed at the indefinable tone of Brian’s voice. His fingers stopped moving against Jesse’s neck. “He asked me why you? Why not him? Obviously it felt good to kiss him; he wanted to know why we couldn’t be together. And he was so resentful that all he got to be was my best friend while you get to touch me and kiss me.” Jesse shook his head. “I told him that nothing can happen between me and him, and we had to forget about it.” Jesse felt tears well in his eyes again, remembering how angry John was when he told Jesse to leave.
“Why?” Brian whispered softly. Jesse looked at him. “Why me and not him? He’s your best friend, Jesse.”
Jesse would not have expected Brian to be capable of such vulnerability as he saw on his face just then. The drummer was trying to look innocently curious, even disinterested and detached, but the nervous crease in his forehead told Jesse volumes about Brian’s insecurity. Jesse blinked. “Because he’s not you. If he’d come to me three months ago, before I met you, I might have gone for it, but then again, maybe not. It would be hard to try anything romantic when it might cost you an eternity of friendship. Maybe I would have turned him down then, too.” Jesse shrugged. “But he waited until I was already infatuated with you, and then he accosted me after making me upset and angry and after having me argue with him for weeks over whether you were an asshole or not. He might turn me on, but I’m a teenage boy; trees might turn me on if I let them.” Brian smirked. “He’s not you, and you are. So you win.”
Brian smiled and kissed Jesse briefly on the lips, a ‘thank you,’ Jesse thought, for picking Brian over John.
“So then what happened,” Brian asked, “after you told him you were going to stay with me?”
Jesse had to swallow hard against the lump in his throat again. “Well… he said he would try to be my friend, if he couldn’t have me any other way. And then we argued some more. And then… he said he thought it would be best if we didn’t hang out for a while.” Jesse’s voice warbled when he finished, “And then he started yelling for me to get out.” Jesse closed his eyes on the tears and huddled into Brian’s chest again. Brian squeezed his hand and held him more tightly.
“God Jess, I’m so sorry.”
They just lay like that for a long time, Brian rubbing Jesse’s back as he sobbed into his chest. Brian didn’t speak anything but comforting words, and he didn’t let go, and why should he? The number one opposing force against their relationship had been put in his place, and Brian had won Jesse. Jesse knew that Brian would never gloat at Jesse’s pain, but he couldn’t be sorry about what had happened, considering he had come out on top.