Little Bit Better Than I Used To Be
Catch up: Chapter 1 (Starry Eyes) || Chapter 2 (Save Our Souls) || Chapter 3 (Dancing On Glass)|| Chapter 4 (Merry-Go-Round)|| Backstage (1) || Backstage (2) || Chapter 5 (Danger)|| Backstage (3) || Chapter 6A (Love Walked In) || Chapter 6B (Without You) || Backstage (4) || Chapter 7 (Stick To Your Guns) || Chapter 8 (Time For Change) || Backstage (5) || Chapter 9 (Take Me To The Top) || Backstage (6) || Chapter 10 (Home Sweet Home) || Backstage (7) || Chapter 11a (Nightrain) || Chapter 11b (Nothing Else Matters) || Chapter 12a (Handle With Care) || Chapter 12b (I’m So Tired of Being Lonely) || Chapter 13a (Angel) || Chapter 13b (She’s My Addiction) || Chapter 13c (Patience) || Chapter 14a (Where Do We Go Now?) || Chapter 14b (Where Do We Go Now?) || Chapter 14c (Where Do We Go Now?) || Chapter 15a (Dreams) || Chapter 15b (I Sing A Song of Love) || Chapter 15c (You Can Do This If You Try) || Chapter 16 (Let That Feeling Grab You Deep Inside || Chapter 17A: Never Tear Us Apart || Chapter 17B: It’s Tough To Be Somebody, And It’s Hard Not To Fall Apart || Chapter 17C: I’m Wishing, Lord, That I Was Stoned || Chapter 18: Turn The Page || Chapter 19A: When You're Alone, Do You Let Go? ||| Also posted at AO3
Chapter 19B: Heading For A Spin
Here I go and I don't know why
I spin so ceaselessly
Till I lose my sense of gravity
- Patti Smith, “Dancing Barefoot” (1979) [click here to listen]
Pittsburgh || Early October, 1988
Five knocks had been their signal all tour.
He had told her that she could just walk in – that she was always welcome in his dressing room, that nobody else would disturb them. Yet she still didn’t feel comfortable doing that – respecting his space, and the quiet time he needed to collect himself before every show.
Never mind that these days, more often than not Jamie would bolt the door so that they could love each other quickly and quietly before he went on stage.
She was always ready for him – but tonight, when he answered the door, she knew he would need something different.
At about half of the concerts this tour he would wear a simple black tank top with his jeans. For the other half, he’d forgo a shirt entirely. Not that Claire minded either way, though she did love how the tattoo of her name over his heart would be proudly on display for the world to see.
Tonight he had opted for no tank – which is how she quickly noticed the rapid rise and fall of his chest, as he took very quick and shallow breaths. Eyes wide and unfocused, piercing into hers, impossibly blue amid his black eye makeup.
“Jamie,” she breathed, rushing inside and closing the door. “I’m here. Tell me.”
He swallowed, pushing her against the dressing room wall. Hips flush with hers as her cool hand rested over his heart, fingertips tracing her name inked on his body.
“I…” he gaped, then closed his mouth. Breathing deeply. Eyes wild. “I…Claire…”
“I’m here,” she repeated softly. “I love you. Do you love me?”
“Forever,” he choked. Hand fluttering under her Print t-shirt, thumbnail digging into the bone of her hip.
“I’m here, Jamie. I’m not going anywhere.”
He swallowed.
“Let me call Raymond right now. We have his home number for a reason, that’s what he told us when we called last week. We have time before the show. Everybody can wait. You have a phone in here, right?”
He shook his head. "No. Not tonight."
She frowned. “Did you take anything?”
“No,” he replied instantly. “No. No. Definitely no. Wouldn’t do that to you. To us.”
Her fingertips skimmed down the inside of his arm, and his gaze followed. She turned her hand palm upward. “Do you see your letter on me, Jamie? The one you inked yourself, in Boston?”
“Yes,” he breathed. Reached a fingertip to touch the J tattooed below her thumb.
“Focus on that. How much I love you. And do you remember when I inked my letter on you?”
He turned over his hand to proudly show her the C tattooed below his right thumb. “Your touch. Always with me.” He swallowed. “Every note I play, it’s with me.”
“That’s right, Jamie. I’m always with you, and you’re always with me.” She reached up to caress his cheek, smiling at the rasp of his stubble. “We have time. Do you want to love?”
Her hand drifted down across his chest and rested on the belt loops of his jeans. Waiting. Giving him the choice.
He leaned down for a long, slow, sweet kiss.
She felt the tension seep from his body.
“Want to wait to love you tonight,” he whispered against her lips, hips still flush with hers. Teasing. “But only if you can wait, too.”
She nodded, kissing his lower lip. “I can. But I’ll be thinking about it the whole show. How amazing it will be, later. Will you, too?”
He deepened the kiss. “Fuck yes.”
“And not here,” she gasped between kisses. “Back at the hotel. I want to take my time.”
He bit the side of her neck.
Three pounds on the door. Colum’s signal for five minutes until showtime. Because he knew better than to barge in. The one time he had…well, that was enough.
Jamie pulled away only slightly, his body still pressing Claire’s against the wall. He rubbed the tip of his nose against hers. Breathing deeply. Inhaling the scent of her skin.
“What happened?”
He sighed. “One of the fans at the meet and greet told me that I inspired him to get clean. Go to AA. Deal with his shit. He actually thanked me.”
“Oh, my love.” She kissed him. “That’s so wonderful.”
He sought shelter in the safety of her neck. “I fucking did that, Claire. I can’t believe it. It's...it's unreal.”
She nodded, arms winding tight around his shoulders. “You did do that, Jamie. That’s so amazing.”
“He was so fucking happy. So proud. I didn’t know what to say.”
“That’s all right. You don’t need to say anything. Knowing is enough.”
He kissed her collarbone. “I just can't get over it. For all this time, I've only thought that all that shit I used to do could only have one result. That it was all bad. And now it's messing with my head to know that my fuck-ups actually helped someone. Kind of makes me happy in a weird way that all that shit happened, because it helped him.”
She carded her fingers through his hair. “It makes it worth it. Will you promise to tell Raymond about this?”
He nodded. “Yeah. We need to talk with him about this. Not gonna lie, it's fucking with my head a bit. Because I’m nobody’s hero, Claire. Nobody in this world who has any sense should look up to me. I’m an addict, and a musician who just got insanely lucky.”
“Don’t sell yourself short. Some are born great, some achieve greatness, and some have greatness thrust upon them.”
Jamie smiled. Thrust his pelvis into hers. Smiling when she whimpered.
“I think it's impossible that with all the records we've sold, and with all the sold out shows this tour, that only that one person has changed their thinking. So what about..."
He swallowed, a bit unsure. Claire ran her thumb over his cheek.
"Maybe...maybe I do something official. Like, launch a sobriety support program for fans. Encourage them to have sober meet-ups with each other.”
She smiled, ecstatic. “That would be so amazing, Jamie. We should tell Colum - he can get the publicity people on it right away. You’ve got a voice – you should use it.”
Four loud knocks.
“Kiss your bride goodbye, Jamie! Everyone is waiting!” Colum yelled through the door.
Claire smiled. “You’re gonna do so great tonight. I’ll be right there with you.”
Jamie smiled. “I do have a voice, Claire. And I sing for you.”
He darted in for a kiss. And another. And another.
Neither heard the door open, until –
“For fuck’s sake!” Colum screamed. “I said kiss her, not swallow her!”
Jamie pulled away. Light. Happy.
“See you after the show,” she smiled.
“Can’t wait,” he grinned. Slung his guitar over his shoulder. Waited for her to find and pick up her medical bag. Gripped her hand. Led her to the stage.
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