go_onjustsay_it (go_onjustsay_it) wrote in laz_loves_jno,


Title: Curious

Pairing: John Nolan/Adam Lazzara, Jesse Lacey/Adam Lazzara

Rating: R for sexual content and language

Summary: It is the story of John’s departure from TBS from Adam’s point of view. It is a sort of reverie brought on by Fred’s departure.

Disclaimer: This did not happen. It is only fiction. I do not own these people. Their parents do because they are the ones that paid to bring them into this world.

Warnings: Slightly rough sexual situation.


We said "no drama" but that doesn’t mean I can’t get a little depressed. Fred’s gone, and I looked up to him so much. It reminds me of when he left. When he left, I didn’t know what to do. The music was all I had. He was all I had. I’d never loved anyone the way I loved him before, and I know I will never have that again. Even though I know everything’s going to be fine now, and it will not be how it was then, I still can’t quite remember to breathe at a normal rate.

Sometimes, I think I’m only happy when I’m drunk, when I can’t think straight, when I sometimes still feel him beside me as I stumble into my empty, cold bed. At those moments, I remember the way his lips felt on the back of my neck, tickling it in the most delicious way. I remember the way his hands felt stroking my side, trying to make me want him, not knowing that I already did the moment he walked in the door. I remember the excited tightening of my lower stomach as he turned me over to teasingly pull down my pants. I remember the tingling pleasure of feeling him hovering over me as he used his hands to make me see stars. I remember holding back the screams as he removed his own pants and did the thing I wanted most in the world.

After I wake up on those bittersweet drunken nights, somewhat more sober, aching with need and something akin to despair, I lay awake and wipe at the hot, desperate tears that run down from my eyes and into the hair at my temples. Never in my life have I felt the same aching pleasure as I did with him with John. It wasn’t just the sex; I loved him more completely than I had loved any girl. He was the first, and for the longest time, the only man I had been with. Before I met John, I had never even considered myself anything but completely straight.

When I started dating Michelle, I knew on some level that I only wanted her because she was like John, but she was safer. She was a girl. She dated me, but she knew, I knew, everyone that met us knew, that the one I wanted was John. Eventually, she let me go, and I will always be thankful to her for that. I will always love her in a way for being gracious enough to let me go, even though what I did next hurt her. It wasn’t like we loved each other or anything, but it hurt her to let me leave her so that I could be with her brother. I never felt more like slutty trailer trash than when I went ahead and got together with John. Everything felt better, though, when he hugged me and kissed me and told me he had always wanted me too. By the time he had grabbed my hand and was leading me to his bed, I felt no guilt.

Being with him was such a strange experience. I had been with girls before, of course, his sister included, but he was the first man for me. Being with him, I guess, was like losing my virginity all over again, only this time it hurt, like a lot. It’s funny, I wanted it so bad, but the second it started, I began struggling beneath him, trying to escape the pressure of him inside me. My eyes filled with tears and my nose even ran a little. John still kissed me and touched my face and told me I was beautiful even though I was struggling against him and generally making the process even more difficult than it already was. I’m sure I probably beat him up a little in all that struggling. Eventually, though, after he stopped moving and he whispered the most wonderful things in my ear, I began to adjust to the way he felt inside me. When we started it again, I began to feel different, entirely more pleasurable sensations. That is, until he hit just the right spot. Then I decided that I would never go back to women because they could never do it for me after I’d become nice and friendly with the cock. And, oh did I become friendly with John’s cock. No time was the wrong time for sex. Eventually, I started to get curious about what it would be like with other men, but I never thought I would be a slut.

I never actually acted on my curiosity about being with other men. That is, until the night John and I ended things for good. We’d been drinking for quite some with Jesse, Mark, Shaun, and Eddie. Nobody was anywhere near sober and Mark, Shaun, and Eddie had long since gone to their beds to get some sleep. Only John, Jesse, and I were still drinking. After a while, John got up and mumbled, "Igottapiss." John was taking a long time. I sat looking a Jesse for a little while, and then I moved a little closer to him. He was always nicer to me after he’d been drinking, and he just looked so good sitting there, eyes half-lidded, a bottle of beer barely clutched in his hand. I’d always had a little crush on him. He was the smartest guy I had ever met and he knew it. I was so far gone that I could barely sit up on my own. I don’t know what I was thinking, or why I thought that going after John’s best friend wouldn’t seriously fuck up  my relationship with John.

The next thing I knew, I had my nose buried in his neck and I was inhaling nothing but Jesse. I let my lips fall, half open, against the crook of his neck. He didn’t react, but he didn’t push me away either. I took that as encouragement. I grabbed the bottle in his hand and set it down off balance so that the liquid remaining there poured out onto the carpet. I didn’t notice. I was too busy arranging Jesse’s hands on my own body. It felt wrong, it felt good. I climbed into his lap and continued the clumsy, one-sided makeout session. He took me by surprise when he pushed me onto my back on the floor in a puddle of lukewarm beer. I was even more shocked when he climbed on top of me and kissed me back. I was the one not reacting then. That is, until he pinned my wrists in one of his hands above my head. It was new and exciting and something sweet, conservative John had never done to me before. I struggled against his tight grip, pretending that I couldn’t get away. I opened my mouth for him and wrapped my legs around his waist. As I began to rock my hips up against Jesse’s, I heard uneven footsteps approaching. John. He came back just in time to see his boyfriend grinding like a harlot against his best friend.

After that, of course, John and I fought, screaming at each other for half the night. He left immediately after we were finished, taking our bassist and my career along with him, and stomping my heart into the pavement on his way out. Jesse left with him, and strangely enough, John wasn’t even angry at him. I guess everyone knew it was my fault. To this day, I don’t really know if Jesse even knew what he was doing that night. I don’t know if he was really willing or not. All I know is that I messed up the best relationship I will probably ever have because I was curious.


I know this could have been written a little better. I know I could have used more detail, but for some reason I was really stuck on the sex. Oh well, I hope you like it despite its shortcomings. I might write a sort of continuation of this. If you would like that, please let me know.

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