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why won't you know that I'm in love with you? [Jun. 13th, 2005|08:06 pm]
[mood |contentcontent]
[music |Just like heaven - The Cure]

Title: Got Dizzy Dancing The Tango Pt 10
Pairing: Jesse Lacey [Brand New] / Adam Lazzara [TBS]
Rating: PG-13 for language
Summary: “Jesse Lacey, you are the only fag I know who can’t dance and or wiggle his hips.”
Notes: LAST CHAPTER? I'm sad to end this. Special thanks to inpurity for being my mum and looking over this, I hope this is better, but I can't hold on. Thank you to everyone who's stuck though the relationship so far - let's see what happens for them, hmm

Pt 10

I tell John that I’ll be back soon, and make my way across the room, looking about for Eddie. How hard could it be? I mean, you can’t really miss the guy.

I keep getting flashes of the dancers [Adam] on the floor, trying to force it out of my mind and ignore the stabbing pain in my chest; if my plan fails, then I lose Adam forever.

I can’t handle that.

I’ve made it through the sea of tables and gawking people but there’s no sign of Eddie, so I head towards the bar, asking after him. The barman shoots me a strange look, but complies. After a few minutes, Eddie comes out, looking formidable, but immediately smiles when he sees it’s me who wants to talk to him.

“Ah, Jeh-sse. What can I do for you?” He asks, but doesn’t hug me [thank god].

I stare at his pinstriped shirt, instead of his beady black eyes, and direct my words at his stomach. “Do you have an office or anything? I wanted to talk to you.” He just gives me a blank look for a moment. “It’s about Adam.” I add, looking up at his face. He frowns slightly before nodding, taking hold of my arm in a vice-like grip [fingers pinching at my delicate skin] and steering me behind the bar, receiving another strange look off of the barman, and through another door behind the bar.

Eddie opens the door of his office for me, following me in and closing it behind him. “Have a seat.” He tells me, and I nod, sitting on one of the leather sofa’s he has against the wall. “Coffee?” He looks at me over his shoulder, and I nod again.

I glance about the room, taking in the simple, cluttered desk, potted plant [which looked a bit dehydrated] on one half of the room, with the coffee machine and sofas on the other. It’s all calming blues and creams, giving off a cozy, yet practical, vibe; definitely not what I’d expect of the Mafia.

[Speaking of the Mafia…] Eddie comes over to me, setting a coffee tray on the small table between us, handing me my own cup before settling onto the other sofa with his.

“You want to talk about Ah-dah-m?” he asks, stirring cream into his cup, avoiding looking at me.

I cough nervously into my hand and nod. “We, uh, had a fall out. I said some things, uhm. Kind of harsh –”

Eddie cuts me off by banging his cup down onto the table, sloshing most of it over the side. “What kind of thing?” He demands, accent thickening.

I look him in the eye. “Bad things.” He opens his mouth to object, but I speed on. “I want to make it up to him.”

He picks up a napkin and starts clearing up his little mess, sighing heavily. “You know… He has pride, he is stubborn. Ah-dah-m come from old old Mexican family. Very old. Very poor Mexican family, in North Carolina. Adam come to New York with this, to find his fortune and dance; to follow his dream, yes?”

I nod.

“He come, but have no work. I find him in café, no money, tired, giving up. So, I hire him to work in my bar, I take care of him; I feed him, keep him warm. But his eyes, they don’t smile.

Then, one day, I say, ‘Adam, why you so sad?’ and he say, ‘Well, Eddie, I come to the city to dance. Now I just work in your bar.’ So, I say, get on that table and dance, but he didn’t want to. So, I pick him up and put him there.” Eddie laughs to himself at the memory, looking over at me, eyes dancing mischievously. “He no like that.”

He really cared about Adam. He looked like a proud father reminiscing like that; I smile warmly at him. “I bet he didn’t.”

He shook his head. “No, he didn’t. I shout out that he give dance lesson to anyone who tries him. I say ‘dance with him, see what he can do’. I took chance with him, but he was good.

So, in the day, he use the club for dance lessons for free. He teach Ah-lex, my nephew, to dance the tango. Alex now does show in restaurant. He’s good, but not as Adam. No, Adam is the tango. He feel it; he breathe it; he live it.”

He paused, taking a sip of his coffee. “I change subject,” he shot me a grin, “Sorry.” He set his cup down carefully before continuing, using his hands to help tell the story.

“Anyway, he use club for free in the day, work at night and he get money to rent a studio, then he help pay me back.” He shrugs, waving his hands. “I say he don’t have to, but he insist: ‘Nonono, Eddie’ he say, ‘You take money. You help me so much, this isn’t even enough.’ I say no. No more money, but he has to teach the others to dance. I had big big big plan, for restaurant. I wanted dance shows, and people would say ‘wow, amazing’.”

He smiled over at me. “And now, I have restaurant and dance shows. Because of Adam.” He leans forward. “But, then, his eyes don’t smile any more. He tell me ‘I just want someone to love me’. He meets you, and he smile. Only certain people Adam lets close; make him smile.”

I pick up my coffee, taking a sip of the now-semi-cold liquid, swallowing it down quickly. “So, can you help me?” I ask, holding the cup with both of my hands.

Eddie crosses his arms, fixing me with a dark, somber stare. “I only want to make my Adam happy.”

I sit forward, putting my cup down and clasping my hands together, almost in my prayer stance, trying to let Eddie know that I understand. “And that’s what I want! I want to have Adam with me so I can make him as happy as I can. That’s why I need to get him back. It’s only him I want to give all my happiness to, to share it with him. I don’t know how to explain, other than, I think I love him.”

His black eyes shine as he grins over at me. “What do I have to do?”

I nervously twirl a daisy in my fingers as I sit on the edge of one of the tables. I picked the small weed earlier, outside, where it was growing through the cracks in the tarmac on the street. The lone strand of hope, I’d thought at the time as I plucked it from its concrete home; now I wonder if I should’ve left it for other people to see and smile at.

I’m so selfish.

Adam should be here any minute and I already want to be sick. Eddie phoned Adam last night, or so he’d told me. The last time I’d seen him was three days ago, here at the club, when he was dancing with Alex, the waiter; we hadn’t even spoken to each other.

The swinging doors leading into the club opens and Adam strolls in, looking around at the deserted bar, squinting at the sudden darkness after the sun outside.

“Eddie?” He calls out, walking further in, running his hand over the table surfaces. I just want to watch him for a minute, but I decide to step out, feeling weird enough as it is.

I drop the daisy onto the table, clearing my throat slightly, causing him to turn towards me. “Hey.” I offer weakly.

His eyes rapidly change shades, countless emotions passing through him. In the end, he just settles for frowning at me. “What are you doing here?”

I shift nervously, clearing my throat again. “I, uh, wanted to talk to you. With you.”

His eyes must’ve adjusted to the darkness, because he looks around us; at the lack of people. “So, Eddie set me up, then?” He asks dismissively.

I look over his shoulder and nod.

“Okay then.” Adam says, walking towards the swinging doors, pushing his hands into his jacket pockets.

I’m jogging towards him before I can stop myself, yelling out to him. “Adam, wait! Please!”

He sighs tiredly, turning to face me. “Why, Jesse? Why do I need to wait?” He looks at his fringe covering his eyes before blowing on it slightly.

I clear my throat [I can’t help it]. “I… I said I wanted to speak with you. I mean, I made a really stupid mistake-”
Adam grunts a little, rolling his eyes. “Jess, what makes you think I actually want to hear this. I have that ‘little piece of ass’, remember?”

I swallow, shifting my feet slightly. “Adam, I know what I said was wrong-”

“Too fucking right!” He says, stepping towards me, anger radiating from him. “Do you really think that I’m so low that I’d cheat?” I begin to shake my head. “Bullshit, Jesse. You wouldn’t have accused me if you didn’t.”

“Adam, I was just… overwhelmed. It’s not every day that someone as amazing as you likes a loser like me.” As I’m saying this, he shakes his head in boredom, turning towards one of the cigarette machines behind him, pushing some money into the slot and making his selection, collecting the pack from the bottom. He turns back to face me, unwrapping them from their cellophane prison and taking one out of the cardboard box.

“Jesse. That is bullshit, and you know it.” He tells me before placing a cigarette between his lips and lighting it, taking a long smooth drag. “Anyway,” he says, exhaling the smoke. “You managed to find my replacement fast enough, didn’t you?” He tips his head back slightly, eyes still trained on me as he waits for my reply.

I scowl, changing the subject. “When did you start smoking?” I ask abruptly.

He frowns at me, glancing down at the offending cancer-stick before returning his gaze. “You just saw me light this, right?”

I shake my head, eyes closed for a second, trying to gather my thoughts. “And anyway, what did you mean by your replacement?” I ask, opening my eyes again before fanning some of the smoke away from my face.

He pauses, lips pursed, cigarette half way to his mouth as he stares incredulously at me. “Fuck you.” He murmurs, flicking the white stick to the floor and crushing it beneath his heel. “I don’t need to hear this shit.” He mutters as he pushes the door open, stuffing his hands back into his jacket pockets. “Goodbye, Jesse.” He says, flicking his hair out of his eyes as he walked away.

I want to call out; force him to stay. I want him to love me; to give me a chance at loving him. But I can’t.

My shoulders slump; I’ve lost him.

I blink rapidly trying to hold back angry tears, my chest getting tighter and tighter, my throat contracting, making it harder to breathe as I slowly make my way over to the table where I’d left my jacket, picking it up and shrugging it on.

I take a deep breath as I stand there, closing my eyes and letting my head fall back as I concentrate on recovering from being rejected by Adam. I reach into my pocket to retrieve the small daisy, my eyes snapping open and glancing frantically about when my fingers found nothing. I remembered putting it down on one of the tables, so I glanced about me, knowing it should be close. When I found nothing, I let out a dry sob; my last scrap of hope [in the form of a daisy] had gone.

I walk out of the doors and towards my car, the bright lights hurting my already bloodshot eyes.

Jesse Lacey fucked this up.

I’ve been wallowing in self pity for the last three days. John came round a few times, telling me to stop moping, but hasn’t come round since I slammed the door in his face twice [he actually had a bleeding nose]. Eddie called, but I just let the machine pick them up, before getting sick of the ringing and unplugging the phone. [I did want to throw it, but, sadly, not enough muscle].

I don’t even know if I can call this stage ‘self pity’. It’s just me being dead. I’m completely numb. I know I should move on, like I would have beforehand, but I can’t. Adam was special to me. I had to keep touching him, to check that he was actually there and real.

I gave that up.

I am such a fucking loser.

I stumble over to the phone [yes, stumble. I tripped on the edge of the sofa] before I remember that it’s unplugged, and I really can’t be bothered to do anything about it, so I flop back down on the sofa.

Of course, then there’s a knock at the door. I hate it when that happens: sit down, then you have to haul your ass back up. I make it over to the door, throwing it open with a grunt, revealing the person who dared to interrupt my… sofa time.

And, oh my God.

“Jesse, before you slam the door in my face I just want you to know -”

I step back in shock, before my reflexes kick in and I fling the door shut. I walk back to the sofa, trying to ignore the pounding on the door.

“Fuck the hell off, John.” I yell, grabbing a cushion and covering my face with it, succeeding in muffling the sound slightly, as well as smothering myself.

“Jesse! Jesse, just let me in, okay? I promise I won’t stay long. Just let me in – talk to me!” John calls through the letter box. I don’t reply and there’s silence for a few blessed minutes, before there’s an agitated kick to the door. There’s hope for a while longer that John had gone away, but then the knocking at the door starts up again and I groan, rolling off the sofa and walking over to the door.

“If letting you in is the only thing that’ll make you leave me alone, then you should’ve said so sooner.” I grumble as I unchain the door, immediately turning my back and heading for the kitchen.

“Jesse…” he calls after me, but there’s something different about his voice; it seems thicker, somehow. I turn slowly and let my eyes roam over the figure in my kitchen doorway.

“You look well.” He says, which is slightly funny, seeing as he’s not looking at me. I grunt in reply. “I mean… you’re not dead.” He continues.

I smile sardonically. “Close enough.”

John rolls his eyes at me and huffs. “I came over to check you were okay, Jesse.”

I press the button on the percolator, sending John a sideways glance, eyebrows raised. “So… I’m not dead. I guess you can leave now, huh?” With that, I walk towards him, taking his arm and begin steering him out of the door.

“Jesse! Just stop and –”

I slam the door in his face.

For the third time.

I’m such a great friend.

John shouts and kicks at the door again and I go back to my sofa [which I had previously been so rudely interrupted from]. I feel kind of bad, so, I do the most hated thing ever – I get back up off of the sofa, just to let him back in.

I already have an apology about to spill from my lips when I open the door, but I hold my tongue. There’s a partially naked flower being held up in front of my face. I stare at it for a moment; at the lone white petal clinging hopefully to it.

My breath catches painfully and I look past it, at Adam, who then retracts the flower, plucking the last petal, staring straight into my eyes.

I don’t know how to react. He’s come back? He’s pulling my ‘hope’ to shreds?

“…He loves me.” Adam whispers, dropping the last petal to the floor, his dark eyes holding mine hopefully.

We watch at each other with terrified curiosity, waiting for the other’s reaction. He clutches the daisy’s stem, twirling it anxiously and I lick my lips, taking a deep breath.

My chest still feels too tight, but my throat has eased, allowing me to choke out a few words. “Adam. I love you.” I have butterflies in my stomach. I’ve never been so nervous in all of my life. I want to be sick.

He blinks at me, licking his own lips and rubbing his hands against his legs. He opens his mouth, then closes it, doing this a few times. “I love you, too, Jesse.” He finally croaks, offering me a nervous grin, reaching one with one arm up to scratch at the back of his neck..

I can’t help but smile, taking his free hand and pulling him towards me as lowers his arm to rest along my shoulders, pressing himself against me and pulling me closer at the same time.

He sighs, stroking our lips together, forgiving, loving and reliving. Adam drops the stripped daisy to the floor, and it lies there, forgotten, as we pull away. We push our hands together, our fingers tangling and hooking onto the other’s as we smile, almost shyly, at each other.

“I only want to dance with you.” Adam tells me, smiling coyly. I grin up at him and he takes my hand, twirling me around before pulling me back into his arms. [Casanova styl-io. Word.] I grip his shoulders and his smile widens as he leans in to peck my lips gently, making my head spin.

“I’m dizzy.” I whisper, still gazing up at him. [Yeah, I don’t know why I whispered…]

His brow furrows for a second. “The tango makes you dizzy?”

I can’t help but smile. “No.” He continues to give me a blank look so I nuzzle his neck slightly. “You do.”

oh jeez, I'm such a loser. Tell me what you think. Thank you for reading. <333

From: mestupdreamer24
2005-06-13 08:31 pm (UTC)
That was a cute ending, I think you should write a sequal.
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[User Picture]From: echoelf
2005-06-14 05:07 am (UTC)
oh man. cheesyxcore. gotta love it

ps that's like...one of my favorite songs. it's my cell phone ring
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From: ex_argh
2005-06-14 08:08 am (UTC)
*sighs happily* ah i loved this fic :) it makes ever soooo happy :D :D :D and the ending was sooo cute and lovely ;) i love it.

sorry i suck at reviews :( but a sequel would be very, very nice :P

(Reply) (Thread)
[User Picture]From: __squirtguns
2005-06-16 03:46 am (UTC)
Best. Ending. Ever.

...and I third that sequel idea.
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[User Picture]From: bratpack
2005-06-19 11:34 am (UTC)
Aww cute.

Loved it!

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[User Picture]From: x_yourkiss
2005-07-12 05:20 am (UTC)
oh gosh! so effing adorable. loved the ending, especially the last lines.
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[User Picture]From: x_cheapnovelty
2006-12-15 12:56 pm (UTC)
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From: (Anonymous)
2011-01-27 07:53 am (UTC)


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