Your Biggest Fan - 21/?
Title: Your Biggest Fan
Chapter: 21/?
Fandom: Twilight
By: bythedamned
Rating: NC-17 overall
Chapter Wordcount: 8,213
Genre: AU, Slash
Pairing: Edward/Jasper
Summary: Throughout high school, the shy and over-burdened Edward Masen threw himself into work and raising his baby sister. He's always felt lucky just to be friends with track star Jasper Cullen. Now, he doesn't know if just friends is enough. AH AU Slash.
Disclaimer: Stephenie Meyer owns, I just play
A/N: Thanks to my awesome beta, elveys_stuff
Christmas morning came especially early, with the sounds of birds singing, pipes whooshing, and someone talking animatedly about… cell phone plans?
Oh hell no.
I burrowed under my blanket, trying to mold a cocoon of warmth and quiet around my head, but even that wasn’t much help when the edge of the couch suddenly dipped. A cold hand snuck under the covers and I cringed away from it, even though moments later I was curling myself back to feel the touch again. I knew that hand.
“It’s early,” I whined, still hiding my eyes from the light.
“It’s Christmas,” he countered. “Up and at ‘em, Private.”
“Bite me. Sir.”
He laughed, but eventually convinced me it really was time to get up. After I made it to a sitting position, he settled himself next to me and tucked his feet under my blanket.
“So how did, you know, the rest of your talk go?”
He shrugged, which I refused to take for an answer, so I nudged him in the ribs.
“It went fine,” he said quietly. “She never did flip out, if that’s what you mean. I heard her crying after she thought I was asleep though.”
“Oh,” was pretty much the only thing I could say, and I said it to my knees. It’s not like it was my goal to make Rosalie cry. I just wanted to be… left alone. With Jasper.
Jas didn’t have much else to say on the topic either, so we let it slide. Esme came in soon after that to rouse us, insisting that we all eat breakfast to offset all that sugar we were about to scarf down.
Before long we were all huddled around the Christmas tree with Nat King Cole on in the background. Carlisle had pulled over Grandpop’s favorite chair, and everyone settled into a routine that was probably even older than Jas was, just with the roles shuffled a bit. Esme doled out all the brightly wrapped packages while Nan collected all the bows and ribbons on her lap to use again. Jas pulled the excess wrapping and boxes off to the side, and Carlisle was in charge of anything ‘hard to open’.
Most of the gifts went over well. Esme was ushering her parents into the twentieth century with a DVD player that Carlisle promised to set up and explain, right after he finished ogling his new leather briefcase, and Esme herself loved the hand-painted garden markers we’d picked out for her.
Jas and I had agreed to exchange our gifts in private, which was good because I didn’t exactly have his yet. In fact… I didn’t even know what it was. Luckily for me, though, Jas had said he’d rather wait ‘til we got back home, just for privacy’s sake.
It’s not that I hadn’t put time and effort into finding him a present, it’s just that nothing was good enough. Every time I thought I’d found the right gift, I’d agonize over how it would be received and had always ended up convincing myself it wouldn’t be meaningful enough. I knew the type of thing I wanted, something personal and meaningful, and I just had to hope for better luck finding it in New York City. Thank god we were going back.
When there were only a few small boxes left under the tree, Rosalie finally got the new present she’d been waiting for. It seemed Esme had specifically wrapped it in a larger box so that she wouldn’t be able to pick out the tellingly-Apple packaging, but eventually she couldn’t put it off any longer. Rosalie squealed when she realized it was, in fact, the new iPhone 4 and threw her arms around Esme. Carlisle launched into the new changes to their phone plan, including all the texting Rosalie could handle, and even Grandpop leaned over the edge of his chair to see the new device.
While they were all distracted, Nan gave Jasper a less-than-subtle wink and pulled out a bright green checkered box for him. While he tore into that, she reached under the furthest branches and pulled out a very slim present in plain, dark blue wrapping. After checking the tag, she handed it to me.
From ‘All of us’, the tag said.
Holding it in both hands, I immediately knew it was a picture. The thin, raised frame was too obvious. I had a suspicion it was of Jas and me, maybe the one Esme took right before our first date, and I was quietly relieved not to have all eyes on me as I opened it.
I hooked my fingers under the tape in the back and had just ripped the paper away from the top half when I hear Esme saying, “Oh sweetie, wait-”
It was not the photo I’d been expecting. None of Jasper’s blond curls, or the white and blue pattern of the Cullen’s kitchen - the colors were all wrong.
Instead, I saw bronze. Bronze and green and the shoulders of a periwinkle blue dress I knew all too well. Mom.
I saw Jasper’s arms reach for me and heard the rustling of Esme getting up as well, but I shook my head.
Mom. Instead of the eight by ten we’d had on the hearth it was just a five by seven, but it was the same picture that had always kept Mom’s presence alive in the house. And now, surrounded by the same carols and the scents of pine and paper brought back memories of more Christmases than I was prepared for. I was holding her immortalized image in my hands, here, out of place, and I hadn’t known, wasn’t expecting…My brain stalled out like a skipping record and it was just too much. Too much.
I needed to see her alone.
I pulled the rest of the paper off and dropped it blindly at my side. The only voice I could really focus on was Jasper’s, saying my name, but I used his shoulder to push myself up and mumbled, “I just need… a minute.”
Behind me I heard Esme saying in an overly patient voice, “Mom, I told you, remember?” but I didn’t pay much attention. I headed straight for Jasper’s room, since my makeshift bedroom was now Christmas central, and curled up on the bed he’d been using.
Propping my mom’s picture against my knees I studied it, really studied it, like I hadn’t done since I’d last been in my dad’s house. I couldn’t believe it had been so long, and yet, it had only been a couple months. Not just any couple months though, probably the most important months of my life since a picture of my mom had become a substitute for the real thing. So much had happened, and I had to fill her in on all of it.
Talking to her, even silently, gave me the same sense of catharsis that I assumed other people used diaries for. The words were said, released into the universe, and memorialized forever. Once I’d shared the important memories, I felt like it wasn’t my burden alone to remember every detail anymore, and it was easier to immerse myself in making new memories.
I told Mom about Alice, how we’d nearly fallen apart, and how I wished I had Jasper’s skill at reading other people. I related the whole drawn out story, and how Seth was a large part of her happiness these days, and promised that she was well taken care of. And that I was too, for that matter. I told her about Jasper, how he loved me enough to break past my bullshit, and I even smiled to myself when I admitted that my own attempt to romance him had been less than graceful.
I remembered how boldly Jasper had told his parents, that morning at the kitchen table, that he was gay, and how gung-ho he was to declare it to the rest of the world too. I confided that the thought of it horrified me, that he wanted to take our happy secret and release it from the safety of our home for the world to twist and alter and criticize as they wished. I didn’t understand how he could put that information in the hands of strangers, relinquishing all control of it. I told her how hesitant I was to give up that control, too.
I was startled by a hesitant knock at the bedroom door, and when I said to come in I was surprised to see Esme’s face.
“Can I take a minute?” she asked softly, peaking only her head around the door.
“Sure. I was just about finished anyway.”
I swung my legs over the side so she could sit next to me, but I wasn’t expecting the bear hug she pulled me into. For some reason, I reached behind me and flipped my mom’s picture face-down before I turned to hug her back. Just ending one conversation before moving onto the next.
Esme pulled back and brushed what was probably still bed-head away from my face before asking, “How are you, sweetie?”
“I’m fine,” I said, picking at the comforter between us. “Actually, I’m good. I-I really missed her. I was just sort of caught off guard, you know?”
When I finally looked her in the eye - for the first time all morning, really - she had her head tilted to the side with a very soft expression. “Of course. I’m so sorry Mom just handed it to you like that. I told her more than once to leave it hidden in the back but,” she pressed an open palm to her chest and looked toward the closed door, “she just isn’t as with it as she used to be.”
“I’m sorry.”
She turned back to me and when she patted my hand she had her mom face back on. “Oh, don’t be. It’s nobody’s fault. It just means I haven’t been able to spend as much time with you kids as I’d like. Maybe we can do something in the City tomorrow? Besides penguins, I mean.”
I laughed, despite myself. “What is it with those penguins?”
She laughed lightly, and shrugged. “I don’t know. We can think of something else instead. But in the meantime, what do you want to do today?”
I glanced back to the photo frame. “I, um, I think I need to call my sister.”
“That’s probably a good idea. Charlie and Bella gave her the same picture, by the way.”
“Really? So, who…?” She smiled knowingly and I let the question drop.
“It was a team effort, but Charlie’s the one with keys to your father’s place, and Jasper had the Kinkos know-how.”
Charlie, huh? It was weird to think of him going into that empty house and taking my mom’s picture, like it wasn’t supposed to be moved or something, but at the same time I was so glad he did. It really meant a lot that they all pitched in for me and Alice.
I pulled the frame back into my lap, face up. “I don’t really know to say it but, thank you, Esme. All of you. I mean, really.”
“We were happy to do it, Edward.” She scooted close enough to wrap an arm around my shoulder, and stared at the picture with me. “She really was beautiful.”
“Yeah. Dad was always saying so.” Back when we thought we were the happy nuclear family. “He said he was lucky to have such a beautiful woman, who gave him such beautiful children.”
As soon as I said it, I realized it sounded like I was bragging, and tried to take it back. Besides, he definitely hadn’t said anything like that in years. But Esme cut me off with a squeeze around my shoulders and just said, “I’ll tell Jasper you’re calling Alice. Everyone’s still in the living room, but I’m sure you can use his phone.”
I figured I could too, and fished it from the nightstand once Esme had closed the door again.
“Jasper?”
“No, it’s me.”
Alice took a deep heavy breath that I could hear rustling in the phone. “Edward, I miss our old Christmases.”
“I know,” I said quietly. “I got the picture too.”
“She’s so pretty, isn’t she?”
“That’s what Esme said.”
“I’m forgetting little details,” she sighed, “like the shape of her eyes, and those little lines when she smiled.”
“Ali, you won’t forget her. You look just like her.”
When she answered her voice was small and far away. “Not anymore.”
No, not anymore.
“It’s weird to have the picture, you know, Edward? Because whenever I see it, it reminds me of her, and I like that I can remember her. But then when I remember her I feel guilty because it means I haven’t been remembering her. Does that make any sense?”
I settled back onto Jasper’s pillow and nodded, and then added, “Of course,” so she could hear me. “Sometimes I used to go home from Jasper’s, just because it had been too long since I’d seen it. I wished I could take it with me. But I like the idea of having my own copy, separate from the old one, ‘cause I feel like it would be wrong not to have her picture at the old house, you know?”
“Yeah. I just couldn’t get myself to go back there.”
“Me neither.”
There was a long moment of silence where we both let our thoughts run their course, but I knew that, at least where Mom was concerned, they were aligned. We missed the same person for the same reasons, and that was a comfort.
Finally, Alice said, “It’s Christmas, we should talk about happy things,” and I could practically see her force herself to perk up on the other end of the line.
So we talked about our holidays so far, and I told her about New York City while she complained that Charlie ate fish even on Christmas. We were happily comparing our Christmas loot before I heard a knock at the door, and I told her I had to go.
“Okay, but send me more pictures of the city, okay?”
“You got it. Bye Ali.”
As I hung up, I called out for whoever it was to come in, and I was relieved to see Jasper this time. Without hesitating, I pushed myself away from the bed and across the room.
“Thank you,” I said, wrapping my arms tightly around his neck and squeezing myself against him. “Thank you so much for making sure I never have to go back there.”
His arms squeezed back just as tightly and he whispered, “Of course, Edward.”
I pushed enough distance between us to kiss him properly, but when I did I noticed Rosalie standing in the open doorway. She didn’t look angry, or contemptuous. She was just openly watching. Jas noticed how I froze and looked over his shoulder.
“We need a minute,” was all he said, and to my surprise she listened. Her nostrils flared and she rolled her eyes, but she still wordlessly listened. We both stared at the blocked doorway for a moment.
“See,” Jas finally said, “that was easy enough.”
It… really was.
I put a hand on his cheek to turn him back to me and pressed my lips, so gently, against his. Not with lust, or impatience, just my sincere gratitude.
“Edward, it wasn’t supposed to happen like that.”
“It’s okay. Really. It sounds dumb, but it was kind of like a surprise visit from my mom. I was just caught so off guard, and I didn’t want to spaz in front of your grandparents-”
“Yeah,” he smirked just the tiniest bit, “that’s why we were saving it for later.”
“Hey,” I said, giving his shoulder a friendly shove. “I totally kept my shit together.”
His face went serious again. “You were great. Do you need more time, or …?”
I glanced back to the photo, lying face up on the bed where I’d left it. “No, I’m good.”
He studied my eyes intensely while his fingers played with the hair that I usually pushed behind my ears. It let me study him right back, and I watched his crystal blue eyes dart around. I was so close I could see the patterns in his irises, and the darker, uneven ring around his pupil that made them seem even deeper. If I looked deep enough, I thought maybe I could see the ticker tape of his thoughts streaming by.
“Is there something else you wanna do, then?”
I put on a comically hopeful smile. “Lock the door and get naked for three hours?”
He chuckled and it broke the moment, but his fingers tightened in my hair even as he sighed wistfully.
“If you wanna get out, we could go running.”
“Fine,” I rolled my eyes. “If we have to stick to realistic ideas.”
The truth was, though, that running sounded like a fantastic idea. It would let me work my limbs until they were as tired as my mind, and it had been almost a week since I’d been able to really stretch my muscles.
The air was brisk, which actually that it was fucking freezing but we were both pretending to be man enough to not mind. Mostly I was just disappointed that it was too cold to sneak behind a bush or into the old high school for a little bit of one-on-one time, but I still enjoyed running for the sake of running. I helped me leave the morning behind, like I could sweat out all the emotions and tension, and by the time we got back to his grandparents’ block I felt lighter than I had all week.
Jasper, on the other hand, was a distance runner through and through and probably had another few miles before he’d reach his zen high. So instead, he elbowed me and waggled and eyebrow.
“Race ya.”
Without waiting, he slapped his feet to the pavement and put nearly a house’s distance between us. But even with his head start, there was no way I was going to let him win. If he thought I was going to let some marathoner beat me in a dead sprint, he was about to have his ego severely bruised.
I knew he could hear me gaining behind him, but he was already at his limit and last minute bursts of speed were what I’d trained for. I passed him just as we rounded up his grandparents’ driveway and made sure he saw me sticking my tongue out, because we were nothing if not mature.
I guess he never intended for it to be a clean match, though, because letting me kick dust in his face, he snagged the back of my sweats to pull me back. And being elastic and all, that meant they stretched a whole foot behind me, letting all that cold air whoosh in around my poor freezing butt.
The choking sound that came from my throat made him laugh, and I wrenched myself around to grab his wrists, but even that didn’t deter him. He kept yanking at his wrists, trying to free himself as we stumbled up the driveway, until I finally said, “You know, if you wanted to get in my pants we should have just stayed in your room.”
Okay, it was cheesy, but I was expecting him to laugh anyway. What he did instead was stop entirely and give me the most devious smirk he could muster.
With one eyebrow raised he asked, “Who said I wanted to get in your pants?”
Surprised, I totally forgot to keep his wrists pinned together, and in one swift movement he grabbed the sides of my sweats and pantsed me. Right there. In the fucking driveway.
He was so dead.
I lunged, of course, but with my pants trapping my knees together I couldn’t go far and only managed to pinch the back of his shirt as he made for the door, laughing his ass off. I kept a tight hold until I could hobble close enough to loop an arm around his waist and pin him to me. We were barely a foot from the front steps, and after that stunt there was no way I would let him win.
“You’re gonna pay for that,” I warned, trying my hardest to sound like I meant it, but laughing anyway.
But he didn’t buy it, and left that cocky grin on his face. “Oh yeah?”
“Yeah.”
“Is that before or after you pull up your pants?”
Just to punctuate his point he ground his hips against my barely-covered crotch. I think I tried to press closer and pull away at the same time, so I just ended up doing a wobbly tai chi move. Jas, of course, laughed shamelessly.
So unbelievably dead. So dead he would come back as a vampire just so he had to admit how dead he was.
Right after I pulled up my pants.
He took that opportunity to break loose again, but instead of heading for the door he darted around the side of the house. I followed as soon as I was sure my drawstring couldn’t be tied any tighter, and swiped some day-old snow off the hedges on my way. He saw straight through my innocent act, of course, so it took some good old-fashioned wrestling to get that snow down his shirt. But, by god, I got it down there. By the end, I had him pinned to the wet grass, completely unable to defend himself, and laughing so hard he had tears leaking down his to his temples.
It’s not like we had a lot of snow left to work worth, but somehow the next hour turned into a bare-handed snow-slinging wrestling match that didn’t end until I pressed my red, burning palms under Jas’s shirt to warm them back up and he cried uncle.
At that point Esme came outside, bundled up like we probably should have been, but we had sweatshirts and ear warmers and that was good enough for us. She was smiling like she had just heard an inside joke, only I had a feeling it was the same joke that had put me and Jas in such a good mood too.
“Time to come in, boys. Jasper, I need you to help Dad grab some firewood from the shed.”
Jasper waved me into the house before following, and when Nan saw us come in the back door, flushed, laughing, and soaking wet, she sighed.
“Guess we’ll have to make some hot cocoa.”
She said it like it was a bad thing, but as she shuffled off towards the kitchen she winked at us from behind Esme’s back.
I showered alone, sadly, and kept my palms out of the water until the heat didn’t make them sting so much. It wasn’t until I was drying off that I remembered we had been racing, and that Jas had specifically let me in the house first. I wondered if he’d forgotten the race too.
After that it was back to family time, and I didn’t get another moment with Jasper until most of the house was already in bed.
I had just finished brushing my teeth when he slipped into the bathroom. I couldn’t tell if he’d meant to meet me there, but I certainly didn’t mind. He stepped up behind me, holding eye contact in the mirror, and pressed himself against every inch of my backside. His belly button lined up with my spine, his knees bent into the angles mine had created and, of course, his trapped member fit nicely between the curves of my ass. He held my attention so fixedly that I didn’t even move; I just stood waiting to see what he would do next.
“Edward,” he whispered, and I could have sworn he made my name breathier just so the moist air would linger in my ear.
“Yes?” I asked dumbly.
“I haven’t forgotten what you said in the city.”
“What?”
He lifted a hand to my neck, so softly I could barely feel it, and dragged the back of one knuckle down the exposed skin.
His lips were so close to my ear that he barely had to speak up at all. “Yet.”
It took me a moment, but I remembered ‘yet’. I remembered being mortified by those girls but so damn enamored with that peanut butter chocolate cake that I just had to shake Jas up a little too. And I’d meant it, when I said we didn’t really know how good sex could be. Yet. It had been worth the look on his face, but the truth was that that thought was both thrilling and anxiety-provoking all at the same time, and I’d already had enough excitement today.
“Can we talk about it later?” I asked, and it was obvious from the way his hand stopped and his forehead creased that he thought my ‘later’ was a ‘never’. So I smiled, because that wasn’t what I meant, and added, “I’m trying to cut our important bathroom conversations down to a minimum.”
I could tell he was relieved when his finger started again. This time, the tip traced down the front of my neck and along the ridge of my shoulder until I shivered.
“Well, if you don’t want to talk.”
And then in one swift movement that managed to throw me off balance and make me horny as hell all at once, he flipped me around by my shoulder and sank to his knees. He unpopped the buttons on my jeans without preamble, making me shiver again with the way his fingernails raked down my legs, dragging my boxers with them. Damn, my boy was quick. It totally made up for the pantsing incident.
I was half-up and rising fast, and he wasted no time in taking all of me into his mouth. It was an entirely new sensation, feeling his tongue swipe across skin that was still joining the game and getting more sensitive by the second, and he was able to keep his nose in my pubes until I was nearly fully hard.
I barely had time to comprehend what we were doing - in is grandparents’ bathroom, no less - before I was shooting hot streams onto the back of his throat. It was like how everyone made fun of teenage boys for not being able to hold it in, except even I had never blown my load so quickly. A week of celibacy and our afternoon in the snow had put me at his complete mercy, though, and I just gave into the sensations.
I joined him on the floor while I caught my breath, and then hooked my fingers in his pajama pants. Now that I’d had my release I wasn’t as impatient, so I took my time peeling his pants down because I knew it made him hot to watch. He was staring at me over his sharp cheekbones, panting with his mouth open and gripping my arm tightly.
I teased him by swirling the tip of my tongue under the ridge of his dick, sucking in spots along it but never taking it into my mouth. I was merciless, both as payback and because I loved to feel him tremble under my touch, until he started doing that sexy mumbly dirty talk thing of his. I trailed a hand up his chest and stuck my fingers past his lips to suck on before plunging his dick into my mouth. It was a good thing, too, because the way he moaned was neither quiet nor discreet, but I muffled it well enough.
Jas came almost as fast as I had, thrusting his hips up against my face and pumping his cum onto my tongue.
Afterwards, I laid out beside him, resting my head on his flung-out arm, and turned to watch him catch his breath. He was gorgeous in his pleasure, with his curls falling away from his face and his eyes blinking slowly, revealing brief glimpses of the calm blue that had been so intense just moments before.
“I thought you said you weren’t trying to get into my pants.”
He laughed on a breath, but curled up to face me. “You’re such a fucking nerd, you know that?”
Then he rolled his eyes and I rolled mine, and we took a moment to lay there in each other’s nerdy, blissed-out arms.
The morning came too soon, as it always did, and brought another drive into the city. This time, the penguins really were going to happen, and Rosalie was all geared up for some brother-sister time.
Jas stopped me at the top of the stairs to the Metro and stood in front of me. His hair was flatter today, and his red and white striped hat pushed it into his eyes, but he just looked right through it at me.
“Are you sure you don’t want to come?”
I shook my head, and he stepped a little closer.
“Edward,” he said quietly, “I wouldn’t have to choose between you two if you guys could just hang out together.”
I glanced down the stairs at Rosalie, who was studiously picking her nails, and shook my head again. “I have to get Alice something anyway, and your mom said she knows where to look.”
“Alright,” he shrugged, “I’ll see you soon.”
That was all fine and well, but for some reason as he turned I felt… lacking. I wanted something more. Even as I started to speak I knew I was being ridiculous and insecure, especially after all the fun we’d had by ourselves the day before, but my mouth continued before my brain gave the cease and desist order.
“As long as you choose me too. Sometimes.” Most times.
He stepped back to me, doing his best not to smirk, and his levity alone soothed some of my worries.
He edged close enough that he could press his lips to my ear and whispered, “I choose you always, Edward. Even on the floor of my Nan’s bathroom.”
I flushed a little at the thought and tried to bite back the smile, convinced that his family would know what we were talking about if they looked, but it was a lost cause. The warmth flooded my cheeks as I nodded and grinned sheepishly, and I felt better.
He left a wet, lingering kiss on the very corner of my mouth before backing away. “See you real soon.”
I headed in the other direction with Esme and Carlisle, who had been politely immersed in their own conversation that whole time. We all talked briefly about what we needed to get and wanted to see before Esme announced that we were heading to Chelsea.
Just like on our first trip to the city, I spent the first twenty minutes staring at the neighborhood around me. There were tiny cubbyhole galleries everywhere, and a zillion people out on the street. And everyone was gay.
Okay, no, of course not. That was a gross overstatement. It’s just that, compared to Forks, it may as well have been everybody. There were several gay couples walking into storefronts holding hands, all unabashed and out in the open, and even one kissing. Like it was no big deal. Like we had stepped into another world.
When I finally turned my attention to the rest of the neighborhood, I noticed how artsy it was. But not like ‘ohmygod I can’t believe you don’t know who Obscure McForeign is’ artsy. More like, ‘I know this great painter I’d love to share with you’ artsy. It was fashionable without being designer and impressive without being elitist. And it was the perfect place to find Ali a present.
She wanted something unique, hand-made, and that could only be found in New York. It had seemed like a tall order at first, but now that we were here I was pretty sure that’d be all I could find. With Esme’s help, I found a boutique with colorful dresses and one-of-a-kind jewelry. The owner told me all the jewelry was handmade, which I believed because there was someone actually twisting little beads onto wires in the back, and I told her that was great. Then she said all her artists were New York born and raised, and I said that was even better. And then she told me the earrings I had picked out were forty bucks, and I was done being enthusiastic.
I still bought them though, because they were nothing if not unique. They were green feathers on a silver hook, but the edges were also tinted with silver and the bottom tapered into a pointed, metallic tip. I had never seen anything like them, which I considered a good thing, and they got Esme’s vote of approval as Alice-worthy.
Next we wandered around some of the more surrealist galleries, looking at pieces every which way and comparing the shapes we saw. It was like picking goldfish and happy faces out of floating clouds. I knew we sounded like hopeless amateurs to the more seasoned crowd around us, but no one gave us any grief for it. Eventually we found ourselves in front of a sort of catch-all knick knack shop, and after extracting a ‘no pottery’ promise from Esme, Carlisle opened the door for us all to go in.
It was definitely one of those ‘one man’s junk is another man’s treasure’ types of places, except I was pretty sure most of it was junk to me too. Carlisle draped his arm casually around Esme’s shoulders, and she flipped over price tags while they strolled away down the narrow clutter-made aisles.
With the success of Alice’s gift in mind, I thought this might be a great place to find Jasper’s gift too. I wanted to find something that triggered memories of just him and me, and a lot of the old post cards and foreign coins just didn’t fit the bill. In the back, though, were a lot of old clothes - some actually vintage, some just time-period costumes, but they gave me an idea.
I approached the counter and explained what I wanted to a middle-aged man with suspenders and a genuine New York accent. First he said those were collector’s items, going for several thousand a piece and not something a small-time hobbyist like him would have, but when I told him a recreation would do he seemed excited to have what I wanted.
He led me over to a glass case with a whole range of items to choose from. Initially, there was some confusion between the specifics I wanted and what was actually realistic, but with his expertise and my guidelines I finally found Jasper a worthwhile Christmas present. I think my excitement confused the shopkeeper but he gladly took my money and bagged my new purchase, which I slipped carefully into my coat pocket before searching out Esme and Carlisle.
As I looked for them, though, there were several things around the shop that caught my eye. Like the guys. Notably, the guys that had their hands in each others’ pockets.
Just like earlier, it was like nobody even noticed. They walked around the room, joined at the hip, flipping through books and taking their time like it was all part of the daily norm. They were just two normal guys; one short and blond, the other taller with a bit of a receding hairline, and neither would look out of place on the street in Phoenix, or Forks.
They made it look so easy.
“You know,” Carlisle interrupted my thoughts quietly, “it’s not polite to stare.”
I threw my gaze to the ground between my shoes, embarrassed. I hadn’t meant to stare, and it made me feel like every petty gawker back home that I wanted to hide from.
“Edward,” he continued in a very straightforward but thoughtful tone. “It’s human nature. People will always stare whenever anything is different, or new. But it doesn’t mean they bear any ill will.”
He was right, of course. I certainly wasn’t staring because I had a problem with them.
“And do you know how our staring has affected them?”
I finally looked up, waiting eagerly for more Cullen wisdom.
“Not at all,” he said dismissively, waving a hand through the air. “I doubt they even noticed us.”
Esme found us before I could answer, and looped her arm through Carlisle’s.
“What’d you find? Anything good”
“I-yeah, actually, but-”
“Don’t worry,” Carlisle chuckled. “You don’t have to tell. A man’s knick knacks are his own.” They he smiled fondly at Esme. “Right, honey?”
Esme pursed her lips in a way that suggested she was trying not to laugh, and leaned over to me. “You would not believe the stuff we have in the garage,” she whispered loudly. “Carlisle has action figures.”
Somehow, it wasn’t hard to believe.
“Collectibles,” he interrupted her. “And they’re probably worth more than your pottery by now.”
“Oh yes,” Esme nodded. “Practically antiques.” She gave him a cheeky look, and then they both laughed.
In response, or maybe to avoid one, Carlisle steered Esme out of the shop with one arm and threw the other on my shoulder. “Come on, Edward, let’s go hang out with the other kids before I get any older.”
So we headed for the subway, and arranged to meet them just outside Central Park. When we reached our rendezvous spot, I started to wonder what I’d tell Jasper about our morning. The first thought that came to mind was, ‘Guess what, we saw so many gay guys!’ but that just sounded ignorant, and dumb, so I let it go.
When Jas and Rosalie stepped out of the Central Park gates they were both laughing, probably about some inside joke I would never hear, but when Jas saw me he threw his hands up and called my name.
“Edward! Do you know how penguins walk?”
I didn’t even bother to answer because he started doing this… thing. He held his arms and legs wide out, in a kind of starfish shape, and then proceeded to do a whole body wiggle. It was, without a doubt, the most ridiculous thing I had ever seen. I couldn’t image any creature on the planet moving like that, let alone a bird, and I cracked up. But he was undeterred, and wobbled his way over to me while Rosalie stifled a laugh behind him.
“Well,” Esme said, with just the barest hint of an eye roll, “I’m glad you learned something useful today.” Then she ruffled his hair and we were on our way.
As we walked I leaned into Jasper, quietly telling him about Ali’s earrings, and he pulled out the tiny I Heart NY shirt he’d gotten for Bella.
When I worried aloud over whether I should have gotten her something, he said the shirt could be from both of us, and I slipped my hand into his for a quick squeeze of thanks.
After more sightseeing and even an off-Broadway play, it was once again time for Carlisle the savior to drive us out of the city. Rosalie fell asleep against the car window, and I nearly did the same. Those trips had a way of tiring us all out.
After one more day of playing scrabble and cooking, it was time to pack up. We left on Monday morning after a few rounds of goodbyes, take cares, and repeated instructions on how to play a DVD. Since our connection in O’Hare was delayed, it was late by the time we got home.
The first thing we did - well, the very first thing we did was make sure Jas’s parents had gone to bed. But the second thing we did was get completely naked. Fast.
We were both exhausted, but nothing was going to keep me from curling up with my favorite sexy body after a week of forced distance. It started off frantic and hurried, but quickly evolved into a slow, intense grinding session. Then we tangled ourselves together in his bed and just talked for a while, until his persistent erection under my leg told me it was time for a second go.
I fell asleep in my own bed, unfortunately, and didn’t sleep well despite my exhaustion. I woke profanely early in the morning, and didn’t bother changing into jeans or even putting my contacts in. Instead, I used the time to sneak upstairs to nab some wrapping paper and a small box.
In the light of a new day, my last minute purchase no longer felt so perfect. In my hands the pieces felt light, and drab. They were just two embroidered patches, almost like glorified boy scout badges, and they suddenly weren’t enough.
Too late now, I thought as I curled my hands around them, and dropped them in the box. I just had to hope that Jasper would understand what they were, and why.
When I slid under his covers he was still asleep, but barely. His eyelashes fluttered when the bed dipped, and I had just a moment to take in his expressionless face.
He had the faintest trail of freckles across his nose, and his eyelashes were long and dark against his cheeks. He was terminally sexy, but lying there completely peaceful and unaware, he was purely beautiful.
He stirred as he woke, and stretched his arms out under the covers to pull me over to him. I waited until he was blinking and kissing my shoulder before I placed my shiny wrapped box on his chest.
“Mmm, presents,” he hummed, grinning sleepily. Then he rolled over to his nightstand and pulled out a CD wrapped in bright yellow paper. I knew it was a CD because that shape was unmistakable, and I eyed it curiously. Especially since we both got our music online.
He seemed pretty proud of it though, and placed it directly in my hands. “You first.”
I sat up next to him, cross-legged, and carefully unpeeled the tape. I stopped when I saw another face, but immediately recognized it as one of my favorite musicians. I couldn’t imagine which album it was, since I had nearly every song he’d ever done including the early demos and live versions, but a quick peek at the track listing told me I should have had more faith. Jasper wasn’t an Elliott Smith fan, but he must have been listening to all my rambling and ranting over the years because he’d managed to find a promotional collection of rare demos that I had never been able to download.
I thanked him by dropping myself down onto him and kissing him thoroughly. He grinned under my affection so that our teeth clacked a few times, and I was sure I heard him mutter something about a fanboy, but I kept kissing him regardless. It was only when he managed to ask about his own present that I relented.
I straightened myself up again, and picked up his box with a deep breath. He must have noticed my anticipation, because he pushed himself upright too and turned to face me before picking at the paper.
His face was carefully neutral when he opened the box, and stayed that way as he took the two patches out to hold them carefully in his palm. He eyed them for some time, not saying a word, before I finally broke.
“Do you know what they are?”
“Well,” he said, picking up the grey patch with a gold star sewn into the middle. “This one kind of reminds me of Civil War rankings.”
I nodded slowly. “That’s the rank of Major.”
He nodded back and stared down at his other palm, holding the completely empty grey one.
“And that’s the Private,” I continued.
“But, Private’s ranks weren’t designated,” he said, confused. Leave it to him to know something like that. It had taken me twenty minutes with an eccentric knickknack salesman to figure that out.
“That’s why it’s blank.”
“Okay.”
He stared down at the patches in his hands, weighing them in his palms exactly like I had this morning, and looking just as enthused too. He took his time, nodding a few more times, before he finally glanced up with a wide, but unconvincing, smile.
“They’re cute.”
Cute. I groaned internally, because I knew I was doing this all wrong, especially if he thought it was cute.
So I folded my hands nervously in the bedspread, and started to explain.
“They’re patches, for our backpacks.”
He blinked.
“Okay. I - I was thinking about last semester, with that whole mess with Jessica.”
At her name he tensed, so I tried to rush through my explanation.
“My point is,” I urged on, “I want to do better. I’m trying to do better. And it took me forever, but I just thought that these were perfect. I can’t believe you made those names stick, but now they just make me think of you.”
I paused, and added a little indulgently, “Naked. But also not naked. It makes me think of other things, like wrestling and doing homework in the same chair and staying in bed ‘til noon. I think about you whispering that nickname at night, and it just brings back all my favorite memories of us.”
Okay, so brevity was not a Masen family trait. While I spoke, he sat perfectly still, looking back and forth between me and the two little insignias still balanced in his palms. He didn’t smile or speak, and his lack of response was positively nerve-wracking. He sat differently though, with his chest a little fuller and his hands cupped instead of rigid, and so I soldiered on.
“I love you, you know? That’s what I’m trying to say here. I do, and I made a mess ‘cause I didn’t say it enough. So I wanted to give you these patches so that you always know I love you, especially when I can’t say it out loud. ”
It was only then that he moved, leaning just barely forward and letting his mouth hang open like he was tasting his next words on the air, trying to find the right one.
“Jas? I can-”
“No,” he cut me off, and his voice was more breath than sound. And then he raised his hands the way one would hold an offering before an altar. “These literally just became the best gift ever.”
All the air I had trapped in my lungs came rushing out. “Really?”
Instead of answering, he slowly, gently, laid the insignias back in their box, which he moved to the nightstand. When he reached for me his whole face was soft, without any crinkle lines, except for one dimple from that lopsided smile that was his and his alone.
Hooking one hand behind my neck, he leaned across the space of our laps and kissed me once, softly. Then he did it again, and again, until I was poised over him, crawling across the bed to replace the covers keeping him warm. His kisses turned hungry, pulling the very breath out of my mouth, and his hands roamed up my back insistently like he was trying pull me so close that wherever he ended, I would begin.
We melded together, entwining our hands and legs and toes, until he craned his neck back into the pillow to see me.
“You know,” he said thoughtfully, “sometimes that head of yours surprises me.” And then he raised his whole torso off the bed to plant one wet, firm kiss on my forehead.
“Is that a good thing?”
He nodded, heavy-lidded and looking practically post-orgasmic. “Yeah. I feel… a lot better about going back to school now.”
I nodded, ashamed that he’d had doubts to ease in the first place, but also pleased and proud that I’d been able to take care of them. I had actually managed to do the right thing. For once.
I’m pretty sure what came next qualified as pillow talk, especially since he lifted his arm to make a space for me in the crook of his shoulder, and I molded myself against the planes of his body. His arms wrapped around me, gratifyingly snug, until we were both drifting closer to the extra sleep we’d been missing.
“You know,” he eventually mumbled, “I thought I was the only one who liked those names.”
“Are you kidding? Do you have any idea how much more interesting AP History will be?”
I felt him chuckle under my chest. “Oh man, the Battle of Antietam is gonna be so much more fun now.”
I snorted. “Who’s the nerd now?”
He craned his neck and raised an eyebrow at me. “Is this a war you really want to start?” And then, just to make his point, he reached his free arm across his chest to pull off my thick-framed glasses.
“No,” I muttered, settling more comfortably against him without them on. And then I thought, oh what the hell. “Major.”
Chapter 22
Chapter: 21/?
Fandom: Twilight
By: bythedamned
Rating: NC-17 overall
Chapter Wordcount: 8,213
Genre: AU, Slash
Pairing: Edward/Jasper
Summary: Throughout high school, the shy and over-burdened Edward Masen threw himself into work and raising his baby sister. He's always felt lucky just to be friends with track star Jasper Cullen. Now, he doesn't know if just friends is enough. AH AU Slash.
Disclaimer: Stephenie Meyer owns, I just play
A/N: Thanks to my awesome beta, elveys_stuff
Christmas morning came especially early, with the sounds of birds singing, pipes whooshing, and someone talking animatedly about… cell phone plans?
Oh hell no.
I burrowed under my blanket, trying to mold a cocoon of warmth and quiet around my head, but even that wasn’t much help when the edge of the couch suddenly dipped. A cold hand snuck under the covers and I cringed away from it, even though moments later I was curling myself back to feel the touch again. I knew that hand.
“It’s early,” I whined, still hiding my eyes from the light.
“It’s Christmas,” he countered. “Up and at ‘em, Private.”
“Bite me. Sir.”
He laughed, but eventually convinced me it really was time to get up. After I made it to a sitting position, he settled himself next to me and tucked his feet under my blanket.
“So how did, you know, the rest of your talk go?”
He shrugged, which I refused to take for an answer, so I nudged him in the ribs.
“It went fine,” he said quietly. “She never did flip out, if that’s what you mean. I heard her crying after she thought I was asleep though.”
“Oh,” was pretty much the only thing I could say, and I said it to my knees. It’s not like it was my goal to make Rosalie cry. I just wanted to be… left alone. With Jasper.
Jas didn’t have much else to say on the topic either, so we let it slide. Esme came in soon after that to rouse us, insisting that we all eat breakfast to offset all that sugar we were about to scarf down.
Before long we were all huddled around the Christmas tree with Nat King Cole on in the background. Carlisle had pulled over Grandpop’s favorite chair, and everyone settled into a routine that was probably even older than Jas was, just with the roles shuffled a bit. Esme doled out all the brightly wrapped packages while Nan collected all the bows and ribbons on her lap to use again. Jas pulled the excess wrapping and boxes off to the side, and Carlisle was in charge of anything ‘hard to open’.
Most of the gifts went over well. Esme was ushering her parents into the twentieth century with a DVD player that Carlisle promised to set up and explain, right after he finished ogling his new leather briefcase, and Esme herself loved the hand-painted garden markers we’d picked out for her.
Jas and I had agreed to exchange our gifts in private, which was good because I didn’t exactly have his yet. In fact… I didn’t even know what it was. Luckily for me, though, Jas had said he’d rather wait ‘til we got back home, just for privacy’s sake.
It’s not that I hadn’t put time and effort into finding him a present, it’s just that nothing was good enough. Every time I thought I’d found the right gift, I’d agonize over how it would be received and had always ended up convincing myself it wouldn’t be meaningful enough. I knew the type of thing I wanted, something personal and meaningful, and I just had to hope for better luck finding it in New York City. Thank god we were going back.
When there were only a few small boxes left under the tree, Rosalie finally got the new present she’d been waiting for. It seemed Esme had specifically wrapped it in a larger box so that she wouldn’t be able to pick out the tellingly-Apple packaging, but eventually she couldn’t put it off any longer. Rosalie squealed when she realized it was, in fact, the new iPhone 4 and threw her arms around Esme. Carlisle launched into the new changes to their phone plan, including all the texting Rosalie could handle, and even Grandpop leaned over the edge of his chair to see the new device.
While they were all distracted, Nan gave Jasper a less-than-subtle wink and pulled out a bright green checkered box for him. While he tore into that, she reached under the furthest branches and pulled out a very slim present in plain, dark blue wrapping. After checking the tag, she handed it to me.
From ‘All of us’, the tag said.
Holding it in both hands, I immediately knew it was a picture. The thin, raised frame was too obvious. I had a suspicion it was of Jas and me, maybe the one Esme took right before our first date, and I was quietly relieved not to have all eyes on me as I opened it.
I hooked my fingers under the tape in the back and had just ripped the paper away from the top half when I hear Esme saying, “Oh sweetie, wait-”
It was not the photo I’d been expecting. None of Jasper’s blond curls, or the white and blue pattern of the Cullen’s kitchen - the colors were all wrong.
Instead, I saw bronze. Bronze and green and the shoulders of a periwinkle blue dress I knew all too well. Mom.
I saw Jasper’s arms reach for me and heard the rustling of Esme getting up as well, but I shook my head.
Mom. Instead of the eight by ten we’d had on the hearth it was just a five by seven, but it was the same picture that had always kept Mom’s presence alive in the house. And now, surrounded by the same carols and the scents of pine and paper brought back memories of more Christmases than I was prepared for. I was holding her immortalized image in my hands, here, out of place, and I hadn’t known, wasn’t expecting…My brain stalled out like a skipping record and it was just too much. Too much.
I needed to see her alone.
I pulled the rest of the paper off and dropped it blindly at my side. The only voice I could really focus on was Jasper’s, saying my name, but I used his shoulder to push myself up and mumbled, “I just need… a minute.”
Behind me I heard Esme saying in an overly patient voice, “Mom, I told you, remember?” but I didn’t pay much attention. I headed straight for Jasper’s room, since my makeshift bedroom was now Christmas central, and curled up on the bed he’d been using.
Propping my mom’s picture against my knees I studied it, really studied it, like I hadn’t done since I’d last been in my dad’s house. I couldn’t believe it had been so long, and yet, it had only been a couple months. Not just any couple months though, probably the most important months of my life since a picture of my mom had become a substitute for the real thing. So much had happened, and I had to fill her in on all of it.
Talking to her, even silently, gave me the same sense of catharsis that I assumed other people used diaries for. The words were said, released into the universe, and memorialized forever. Once I’d shared the important memories, I felt like it wasn’t my burden alone to remember every detail anymore, and it was easier to immerse myself in making new memories.
I told Mom about Alice, how we’d nearly fallen apart, and how I wished I had Jasper’s skill at reading other people. I related the whole drawn out story, and how Seth was a large part of her happiness these days, and promised that she was well taken care of. And that I was too, for that matter. I told her about Jasper, how he loved me enough to break past my bullshit, and I even smiled to myself when I admitted that my own attempt to romance him had been less than graceful.
I remembered how boldly Jasper had told his parents, that morning at the kitchen table, that he was gay, and how gung-ho he was to declare it to the rest of the world too. I confided that the thought of it horrified me, that he wanted to take our happy secret and release it from the safety of our home for the world to twist and alter and criticize as they wished. I didn’t understand how he could put that information in the hands of strangers, relinquishing all control of it. I told her how hesitant I was to give up that control, too.
I was startled by a hesitant knock at the bedroom door, and when I said to come in I was surprised to see Esme’s face.
“Can I take a minute?” she asked softly, peaking only her head around the door.
“Sure. I was just about finished anyway.”
I swung my legs over the side so she could sit next to me, but I wasn’t expecting the bear hug she pulled me into. For some reason, I reached behind me and flipped my mom’s picture face-down before I turned to hug her back. Just ending one conversation before moving onto the next.
Esme pulled back and brushed what was probably still bed-head away from my face before asking, “How are you, sweetie?”
“I’m fine,” I said, picking at the comforter between us. “Actually, I’m good. I-I really missed her. I was just sort of caught off guard, you know?”
When I finally looked her in the eye - for the first time all morning, really - she had her head tilted to the side with a very soft expression. “Of course. I’m so sorry Mom just handed it to you like that. I told her more than once to leave it hidden in the back but,” she pressed an open palm to her chest and looked toward the closed door, “she just isn’t as with it as she used to be.”
“I’m sorry.”
She turned back to me and when she patted my hand she had her mom face back on. “Oh, don’t be. It’s nobody’s fault. It just means I haven’t been able to spend as much time with you kids as I’d like. Maybe we can do something in the City tomorrow? Besides penguins, I mean.”
I laughed, despite myself. “What is it with those penguins?”
She laughed lightly, and shrugged. “I don’t know. We can think of something else instead. But in the meantime, what do you want to do today?”
I glanced back to the photo frame. “I, um, I think I need to call my sister.”
“That’s probably a good idea. Charlie and Bella gave her the same picture, by the way.”
“Really? So, who…?” She smiled knowingly and I let the question drop.
“It was a team effort, but Charlie’s the one with keys to your father’s place, and Jasper had the Kinkos know-how.”
Charlie, huh? It was weird to think of him going into that empty house and taking my mom’s picture, like it wasn’t supposed to be moved or something, but at the same time I was so glad he did. It really meant a lot that they all pitched in for me and Alice.
I pulled the frame back into my lap, face up. “I don’t really know to say it but, thank you, Esme. All of you. I mean, really.”
“We were happy to do it, Edward.” She scooted close enough to wrap an arm around my shoulder, and stared at the picture with me. “She really was beautiful.”
“Yeah. Dad was always saying so.” Back when we thought we were the happy nuclear family. “He said he was lucky to have such a beautiful woman, who gave him such beautiful children.”
As soon as I said it, I realized it sounded like I was bragging, and tried to take it back. Besides, he definitely hadn’t said anything like that in years. But Esme cut me off with a squeeze around my shoulders and just said, “I’ll tell Jasper you’re calling Alice. Everyone’s still in the living room, but I’m sure you can use his phone.”
I figured I could too, and fished it from the nightstand once Esme had closed the door again.
“Jasper?”
“No, it’s me.”
Alice took a deep heavy breath that I could hear rustling in the phone. “Edward, I miss our old Christmases.”
“I know,” I said quietly. “I got the picture too.”
“She’s so pretty, isn’t she?”
“That’s what Esme said.”
“I’m forgetting little details,” she sighed, “like the shape of her eyes, and those little lines when she smiled.”
“Ali, you won’t forget her. You look just like her.”
When she answered her voice was small and far away. “Not anymore.”
No, not anymore.
“It’s weird to have the picture, you know, Edward? Because whenever I see it, it reminds me of her, and I like that I can remember her. But then when I remember her I feel guilty because it means I haven’t been remembering her. Does that make any sense?”
I settled back onto Jasper’s pillow and nodded, and then added, “Of course,” so she could hear me. “Sometimes I used to go home from Jasper’s, just because it had been too long since I’d seen it. I wished I could take it with me. But I like the idea of having my own copy, separate from the old one, ‘cause I feel like it would be wrong not to have her picture at the old house, you know?”
“Yeah. I just couldn’t get myself to go back there.”
“Me neither.”
There was a long moment of silence where we both let our thoughts run their course, but I knew that, at least where Mom was concerned, they were aligned. We missed the same person for the same reasons, and that was a comfort.
Finally, Alice said, “It’s Christmas, we should talk about happy things,” and I could practically see her force herself to perk up on the other end of the line.
So we talked about our holidays so far, and I told her about New York City while she complained that Charlie ate fish even on Christmas. We were happily comparing our Christmas loot before I heard a knock at the door, and I told her I had to go.
“Okay, but send me more pictures of the city, okay?”
“You got it. Bye Ali.”
As I hung up, I called out for whoever it was to come in, and I was relieved to see Jasper this time. Without hesitating, I pushed myself away from the bed and across the room.
“Thank you,” I said, wrapping my arms tightly around his neck and squeezing myself against him. “Thank you so much for making sure I never have to go back there.”
His arms squeezed back just as tightly and he whispered, “Of course, Edward.”
I pushed enough distance between us to kiss him properly, but when I did I noticed Rosalie standing in the open doorway. She didn’t look angry, or contemptuous. She was just openly watching. Jas noticed how I froze and looked over his shoulder.
“We need a minute,” was all he said, and to my surprise she listened. Her nostrils flared and she rolled her eyes, but she still wordlessly listened. We both stared at the blocked doorway for a moment.
“See,” Jas finally said, “that was easy enough.”
It… really was.
I put a hand on his cheek to turn him back to me and pressed my lips, so gently, against his. Not with lust, or impatience, just my sincere gratitude.
“Edward, it wasn’t supposed to happen like that.”
“It’s okay. Really. It sounds dumb, but it was kind of like a surprise visit from my mom. I was just caught so off guard, and I didn’t want to spaz in front of your grandparents-”
“Yeah,” he smirked just the tiniest bit, “that’s why we were saving it for later.”
“Hey,” I said, giving his shoulder a friendly shove. “I totally kept my shit together.”
His face went serious again. “You were great. Do you need more time, or …?”
I glanced back to the photo, lying face up on the bed where I’d left it. “No, I’m good.”
He studied my eyes intensely while his fingers played with the hair that I usually pushed behind my ears. It let me study him right back, and I watched his crystal blue eyes dart around. I was so close I could see the patterns in his irises, and the darker, uneven ring around his pupil that made them seem even deeper. If I looked deep enough, I thought maybe I could see the ticker tape of his thoughts streaming by.
“Is there something else you wanna do, then?”
I put on a comically hopeful smile. “Lock the door and get naked for three hours?”
He chuckled and it broke the moment, but his fingers tightened in my hair even as he sighed wistfully.
“If you wanna get out, we could go running.”
“Fine,” I rolled my eyes. “If we have to stick to realistic ideas.”
The truth was, though, that running sounded like a fantastic idea. It would let me work my limbs until they were as tired as my mind, and it had been almost a week since I’d been able to really stretch my muscles.
The air was brisk, which actually that it was fucking freezing but we were both pretending to be man enough to not mind. Mostly I was just disappointed that it was too cold to sneak behind a bush or into the old high school for a little bit of one-on-one time, but I still enjoyed running for the sake of running. I helped me leave the morning behind, like I could sweat out all the emotions and tension, and by the time we got back to his grandparents’ block I felt lighter than I had all week.
Jasper, on the other hand, was a distance runner through and through and probably had another few miles before he’d reach his zen high. So instead, he elbowed me and waggled and eyebrow.
“Race ya.”
Without waiting, he slapped his feet to the pavement and put nearly a house’s distance between us. But even with his head start, there was no way I was going to let him win. If he thought I was going to let some marathoner beat me in a dead sprint, he was about to have his ego severely bruised.
I knew he could hear me gaining behind him, but he was already at his limit and last minute bursts of speed were what I’d trained for. I passed him just as we rounded up his grandparents’ driveway and made sure he saw me sticking my tongue out, because we were nothing if not mature.
I guess he never intended for it to be a clean match, though, because letting me kick dust in his face, he snagged the back of my sweats to pull me back. And being elastic and all, that meant they stretched a whole foot behind me, letting all that cold air whoosh in around my poor freezing butt.
The choking sound that came from my throat made him laugh, and I wrenched myself around to grab his wrists, but even that didn’t deter him. He kept yanking at his wrists, trying to free himself as we stumbled up the driveway, until I finally said, “You know, if you wanted to get in my pants we should have just stayed in your room.”
Okay, it was cheesy, but I was expecting him to laugh anyway. What he did instead was stop entirely and give me the most devious smirk he could muster.
With one eyebrow raised he asked, “Who said I wanted to get in your pants?”
Surprised, I totally forgot to keep his wrists pinned together, and in one swift movement he grabbed the sides of my sweats and pantsed me. Right there. In the fucking driveway.
He was so dead.
I lunged, of course, but with my pants trapping my knees together I couldn’t go far and only managed to pinch the back of his shirt as he made for the door, laughing his ass off. I kept a tight hold until I could hobble close enough to loop an arm around his waist and pin him to me. We were barely a foot from the front steps, and after that stunt there was no way I would let him win.
“You’re gonna pay for that,” I warned, trying my hardest to sound like I meant it, but laughing anyway.
But he didn’t buy it, and left that cocky grin on his face. “Oh yeah?”
“Yeah.”
“Is that before or after you pull up your pants?”
Just to punctuate his point he ground his hips against my barely-covered crotch. I think I tried to press closer and pull away at the same time, so I just ended up doing a wobbly tai chi move. Jas, of course, laughed shamelessly.
So unbelievably dead. So dead he would come back as a vampire just so he had to admit how dead he was.
Right after I pulled up my pants.
He took that opportunity to break loose again, but instead of heading for the door he darted around the side of the house. I followed as soon as I was sure my drawstring couldn’t be tied any tighter, and swiped some day-old snow off the hedges on my way. He saw straight through my innocent act, of course, so it took some good old-fashioned wrestling to get that snow down his shirt. But, by god, I got it down there. By the end, I had him pinned to the wet grass, completely unable to defend himself, and laughing so hard he had tears leaking down his to his temples.
It’s not like we had a lot of snow left to work worth, but somehow the next hour turned into a bare-handed snow-slinging wrestling match that didn’t end until I pressed my red, burning palms under Jas’s shirt to warm them back up and he cried uncle.
At that point Esme came outside, bundled up like we probably should have been, but we had sweatshirts and ear warmers and that was good enough for us. She was smiling like she had just heard an inside joke, only I had a feeling it was the same joke that had put me and Jas in such a good mood too.
“Time to come in, boys. Jasper, I need you to help Dad grab some firewood from the shed.”
Jasper waved me into the house before following, and when Nan saw us come in the back door, flushed, laughing, and soaking wet, she sighed.
“Guess we’ll have to make some hot cocoa.”
She said it like it was a bad thing, but as she shuffled off towards the kitchen she winked at us from behind Esme’s back.
I showered alone, sadly, and kept my palms out of the water until the heat didn’t make them sting so much. It wasn’t until I was drying off that I remembered we had been racing, and that Jas had specifically let me in the house first. I wondered if he’d forgotten the race too.
After that it was back to family time, and I didn’t get another moment with Jasper until most of the house was already in bed.
I had just finished brushing my teeth when he slipped into the bathroom. I couldn’t tell if he’d meant to meet me there, but I certainly didn’t mind. He stepped up behind me, holding eye contact in the mirror, and pressed himself against every inch of my backside. His belly button lined up with my spine, his knees bent into the angles mine had created and, of course, his trapped member fit nicely between the curves of my ass. He held my attention so fixedly that I didn’t even move; I just stood waiting to see what he would do next.
“Edward,” he whispered, and I could have sworn he made my name breathier just so the moist air would linger in my ear.
“Yes?” I asked dumbly.
“I haven’t forgotten what you said in the city.”
“What?”
He lifted a hand to my neck, so softly I could barely feel it, and dragged the back of one knuckle down the exposed skin.
His lips were so close to my ear that he barely had to speak up at all. “Yet.”
It took me a moment, but I remembered ‘yet’. I remembered being mortified by those girls but so damn enamored with that peanut butter chocolate cake that I just had to shake Jas up a little too. And I’d meant it, when I said we didn’t really know how good sex could be. Yet. It had been worth the look on his face, but the truth was that that thought was both thrilling and anxiety-provoking all at the same time, and I’d already had enough excitement today.
“Can we talk about it later?” I asked, and it was obvious from the way his hand stopped and his forehead creased that he thought my ‘later’ was a ‘never’. So I smiled, because that wasn’t what I meant, and added, “I’m trying to cut our important bathroom conversations down to a minimum.”
I could tell he was relieved when his finger started again. This time, the tip traced down the front of my neck and along the ridge of my shoulder until I shivered.
“Well, if you don’t want to talk.”
And then in one swift movement that managed to throw me off balance and make me horny as hell all at once, he flipped me around by my shoulder and sank to his knees. He unpopped the buttons on my jeans without preamble, making me shiver again with the way his fingernails raked down my legs, dragging my boxers with them. Damn, my boy was quick. It totally made up for the pantsing incident.
I was half-up and rising fast, and he wasted no time in taking all of me into his mouth. It was an entirely new sensation, feeling his tongue swipe across skin that was still joining the game and getting more sensitive by the second, and he was able to keep his nose in my pubes until I was nearly fully hard.
I barely had time to comprehend what we were doing - in is grandparents’ bathroom, no less - before I was shooting hot streams onto the back of his throat. It was like how everyone made fun of teenage boys for not being able to hold it in, except even I had never blown my load so quickly. A week of celibacy and our afternoon in the snow had put me at his complete mercy, though, and I just gave into the sensations.
I joined him on the floor while I caught my breath, and then hooked my fingers in his pajama pants. Now that I’d had my release I wasn’t as impatient, so I took my time peeling his pants down because I knew it made him hot to watch. He was staring at me over his sharp cheekbones, panting with his mouth open and gripping my arm tightly.
I teased him by swirling the tip of my tongue under the ridge of his dick, sucking in spots along it but never taking it into my mouth. I was merciless, both as payback and because I loved to feel him tremble under my touch, until he started doing that sexy mumbly dirty talk thing of his. I trailed a hand up his chest and stuck my fingers past his lips to suck on before plunging his dick into my mouth. It was a good thing, too, because the way he moaned was neither quiet nor discreet, but I muffled it well enough.
Jas came almost as fast as I had, thrusting his hips up against my face and pumping his cum onto my tongue.
Afterwards, I laid out beside him, resting my head on his flung-out arm, and turned to watch him catch his breath. He was gorgeous in his pleasure, with his curls falling away from his face and his eyes blinking slowly, revealing brief glimpses of the calm blue that had been so intense just moments before.
“I thought you said you weren’t trying to get into my pants.”
He laughed on a breath, but curled up to face me. “You’re such a fucking nerd, you know that?”
Then he rolled his eyes and I rolled mine, and we took a moment to lay there in each other’s nerdy, blissed-out arms.
The morning came too soon, as it always did, and brought another drive into the city. This time, the penguins really were going to happen, and Rosalie was all geared up for some brother-sister time.
Jas stopped me at the top of the stairs to the Metro and stood in front of me. His hair was flatter today, and his red and white striped hat pushed it into his eyes, but he just looked right through it at me.
“Are you sure you don’t want to come?”
I shook my head, and he stepped a little closer.
“Edward,” he said quietly, “I wouldn’t have to choose between you two if you guys could just hang out together.”
I glanced down the stairs at Rosalie, who was studiously picking her nails, and shook my head again. “I have to get Alice something anyway, and your mom said she knows where to look.”
“Alright,” he shrugged, “I’ll see you soon.”
That was all fine and well, but for some reason as he turned I felt… lacking. I wanted something more. Even as I started to speak I knew I was being ridiculous and insecure, especially after all the fun we’d had by ourselves the day before, but my mouth continued before my brain gave the cease and desist order.
“As long as you choose me too. Sometimes.” Most times.
He stepped back to me, doing his best not to smirk, and his levity alone soothed some of my worries.
He edged close enough that he could press his lips to my ear and whispered, “I choose you always, Edward. Even on the floor of my Nan’s bathroom.”
I flushed a little at the thought and tried to bite back the smile, convinced that his family would know what we were talking about if they looked, but it was a lost cause. The warmth flooded my cheeks as I nodded and grinned sheepishly, and I felt better.
He left a wet, lingering kiss on the very corner of my mouth before backing away. “See you real soon.”
I headed in the other direction with Esme and Carlisle, who had been politely immersed in their own conversation that whole time. We all talked briefly about what we needed to get and wanted to see before Esme announced that we were heading to Chelsea.
Just like on our first trip to the city, I spent the first twenty minutes staring at the neighborhood around me. There were tiny cubbyhole galleries everywhere, and a zillion people out on the street. And everyone was gay.
Okay, no, of course not. That was a gross overstatement. It’s just that, compared to Forks, it may as well have been everybody. There were several gay couples walking into storefronts holding hands, all unabashed and out in the open, and even one kissing. Like it was no big deal. Like we had stepped into another world.
When I finally turned my attention to the rest of the neighborhood, I noticed how artsy it was. But not like ‘ohmygod I can’t believe you don’t know who Obscure McForeign is’ artsy. More like, ‘I know this great painter I’d love to share with you’ artsy. It was fashionable without being designer and impressive without being elitist. And it was the perfect place to find Ali a present.
She wanted something unique, hand-made, and that could only be found in New York. It had seemed like a tall order at first, but now that we were here I was pretty sure that’d be all I could find. With Esme’s help, I found a boutique with colorful dresses and one-of-a-kind jewelry. The owner told me all the jewelry was handmade, which I believed because there was someone actually twisting little beads onto wires in the back, and I told her that was great. Then she said all her artists were New York born and raised, and I said that was even better. And then she told me the earrings I had picked out were forty bucks, and I was done being enthusiastic.
I still bought them though, because they were nothing if not unique. They were green feathers on a silver hook, but the edges were also tinted with silver and the bottom tapered into a pointed, metallic tip. I had never seen anything like them, which I considered a good thing, and they got Esme’s vote of approval as Alice-worthy.
Next we wandered around some of the more surrealist galleries, looking at pieces every which way and comparing the shapes we saw. It was like picking goldfish and happy faces out of floating clouds. I knew we sounded like hopeless amateurs to the more seasoned crowd around us, but no one gave us any grief for it. Eventually we found ourselves in front of a sort of catch-all knick knack shop, and after extracting a ‘no pottery’ promise from Esme, Carlisle opened the door for us all to go in.
It was definitely one of those ‘one man’s junk is another man’s treasure’ types of places, except I was pretty sure most of it was junk to me too. Carlisle draped his arm casually around Esme’s shoulders, and she flipped over price tags while they strolled away down the narrow clutter-made aisles.
With the success of Alice’s gift in mind, I thought this might be a great place to find Jasper’s gift too. I wanted to find something that triggered memories of just him and me, and a lot of the old post cards and foreign coins just didn’t fit the bill. In the back, though, were a lot of old clothes - some actually vintage, some just time-period costumes, but they gave me an idea.
I approached the counter and explained what I wanted to a middle-aged man with suspenders and a genuine New York accent. First he said those were collector’s items, going for several thousand a piece and not something a small-time hobbyist like him would have, but when I told him a recreation would do he seemed excited to have what I wanted.
He led me over to a glass case with a whole range of items to choose from. Initially, there was some confusion between the specifics I wanted and what was actually realistic, but with his expertise and my guidelines I finally found Jasper a worthwhile Christmas present. I think my excitement confused the shopkeeper but he gladly took my money and bagged my new purchase, which I slipped carefully into my coat pocket before searching out Esme and Carlisle.
As I looked for them, though, there were several things around the shop that caught my eye. Like the guys. Notably, the guys that had their hands in each others’ pockets.
Just like earlier, it was like nobody even noticed. They walked around the room, joined at the hip, flipping through books and taking their time like it was all part of the daily norm. They were just two normal guys; one short and blond, the other taller with a bit of a receding hairline, and neither would look out of place on the street in Phoenix, or Forks.
They made it look so easy.
“You know,” Carlisle interrupted my thoughts quietly, “it’s not polite to stare.”
I threw my gaze to the ground between my shoes, embarrassed. I hadn’t meant to stare, and it made me feel like every petty gawker back home that I wanted to hide from.
“Edward,” he continued in a very straightforward but thoughtful tone. “It’s human nature. People will always stare whenever anything is different, or new. But it doesn’t mean they bear any ill will.”
He was right, of course. I certainly wasn’t staring because I had a problem with them.
“And do you know how our staring has affected them?”
I finally looked up, waiting eagerly for more Cullen wisdom.
“Not at all,” he said dismissively, waving a hand through the air. “I doubt they even noticed us.”
Esme found us before I could answer, and looped her arm through Carlisle’s.
“What’d you find? Anything good”
“I-yeah, actually, but-”
“Don’t worry,” Carlisle chuckled. “You don’t have to tell. A man’s knick knacks are his own.” They he smiled fondly at Esme. “Right, honey?”
Esme pursed her lips in a way that suggested she was trying not to laugh, and leaned over to me. “You would not believe the stuff we have in the garage,” she whispered loudly. “Carlisle has action figures.”
Somehow, it wasn’t hard to believe.
“Collectibles,” he interrupted her. “And they’re probably worth more than your pottery by now.”
“Oh yes,” Esme nodded. “Practically antiques.” She gave him a cheeky look, and then they both laughed.
In response, or maybe to avoid one, Carlisle steered Esme out of the shop with one arm and threw the other on my shoulder. “Come on, Edward, let’s go hang out with the other kids before I get any older.”
So we headed for the subway, and arranged to meet them just outside Central Park. When we reached our rendezvous spot, I started to wonder what I’d tell Jasper about our morning. The first thought that came to mind was, ‘Guess what, we saw so many gay guys!’ but that just sounded ignorant, and dumb, so I let it go.
When Jas and Rosalie stepped out of the Central Park gates they were both laughing, probably about some inside joke I would never hear, but when Jas saw me he threw his hands up and called my name.
“Edward! Do you know how penguins walk?”
I didn’t even bother to answer because he started doing this… thing. He held his arms and legs wide out, in a kind of starfish shape, and then proceeded to do a whole body wiggle. It was, without a doubt, the most ridiculous thing I had ever seen. I couldn’t image any creature on the planet moving like that, let alone a bird, and I cracked up. But he was undeterred, and wobbled his way over to me while Rosalie stifled a laugh behind him.
“Well,” Esme said, with just the barest hint of an eye roll, “I’m glad you learned something useful today.” Then she ruffled his hair and we were on our way.
As we walked I leaned into Jasper, quietly telling him about Ali’s earrings, and he pulled out the tiny I Heart NY shirt he’d gotten for Bella.
When I worried aloud over whether I should have gotten her something, he said the shirt could be from both of us, and I slipped my hand into his for a quick squeeze of thanks.
After more sightseeing and even an off-Broadway play, it was once again time for Carlisle the savior to drive us out of the city. Rosalie fell asleep against the car window, and I nearly did the same. Those trips had a way of tiring us all out.
After one more day of playing scrabble and cooking, it was time to pack up. We left on Monday morning after a few rounds of goodbyes, take cares, and repeated instructions on how to play a DVD. Since our connection in O’Hare was delayed, it was late by the time we got home.
The first thing we did - well, the very first thing we did was make sure Jas’s parents had gone to bed. But the second thing we did was get completely naked. Fast.
We were both exhausted, but nothing was going to keep me from curling up with my favorite sexy body after a week of forced distance. It started off frantic and hurried, but quickly evolved into a slow, intense grinding session. Then we tangled ourselves together in his bed and just talked for a while, until his persistent erection under my leg told me it was time for a second go.
I fell asleep in my own bed, unfortunately, and didn’t sleep well despite my exhaustion. I woke profanely early in the morning, and didn’t bother changing into jeans or even putting my contacts in. Instead, I used the time to sneak upstairs to nab some wrapping paper and a small box.
In the light of a new day, my last minute purchase no longer felt so perfect. In my hands the pieces felt light, and drab. They were just two embroidered patches, almost like glorified boy scout badges, and they suddenly weren’t enough.
Too late now, I thought as I curled my hands around them, and dropped them in the box. I just had to hope that Jasper would understand what they were, and why.
When I slid under his covers he was still asleep, but barely. His eyelashes fluttered when the bed dipped, and I had just a moment to take in his expressionless face.
He had the faintest trail of freckles across his nose, and his eyelashes were long and dark against his cheeks. He was terminally sexy, but lying there completely peaceful and unaware, he was purely beautiful.
He stirred as he woke, and stretched his arms out under the covers to pull me over to him. I waited until he was blinking and kissing my shoulder before I placed my shiny wrapped box on his chest.
“Mmm, presents,” he hummed, grinning sleepily. Then he rolled over to his nightstand and pulled out a CD wrapped in bright yellow paper. I knew it was a CD because that shape was unmistakable, and I eyed it curiously. Especially since we both got our music online.
He seemed pretty proud of it though, and placed it directly in my hands. “You first.”
I sat up next to him, cross-legged, and carefully unpeeled the tape. I stopped when I saw another face, but immediately recognized it as one of my favorite musicians. I couldn’t imagine which album it was, since I had nearly every song he’d ever done including the early demos and live versions, but a quick peek at the track listing told me I should have had more faith. Jasper wasn’t an Elliott Smith fan, but he must have been listening to all my rambling and ranting over the years because he’d managed to find a promotional collection of rare demos that I had never been able to download.
I thanked him by dropping myself down onto him and kissing him thoroughly. He grinned under my affection so that our teeth clacked a few times, and I was sure I heard him mutter something about a fanboy, but I kept kissing him regardless. It was only when he managed to ask about his own present that I relented.
I straightened myself up again, and picked up his box with a deep breath. He must have noticed my anticipation, because he pushed himself upright too and turned to face me before picking at the paper.
His face was carefully neutral when he opened the box, and stayed that way as he took the two patches out to hold them carefully in his palm. He eyed them for some time, not saying a word, before I finally broke.
“Do you know what they are?”
“Well,” he said, picking up the grey patch with a gold star sewn into the middle. “This one kind of reminds me of Civil War rankings.”
I nodded slowly. “That’s the rank of Major.”
He nodded back and stared down at his other palm, holding the completely empty grey one.
“And that’s the Private,” I continued.
“But, Private’s ranks weren’t designated,” he said, confused. Leave it to him to know something like that. It had taken me twenty minutes with an eccentric knickknack salesman to figure that out.
“That’s why it’s blank.”
“Okay.”
He stared down at the patches in his hands, weighing them in his palms exactly like I had this morning, and looking just as enthused too. He took his time, nodding a few more times, before he finally glanced up with a wide, but unconvincing, smile.
“They’re cute.”
Cute. I groaned internally, because I knew I was doing this all wrong, especially if he thought it was cute.
So I folded my hands nervously in the bedspread, and started to explain.
“They’re patches, for our backpacks.”
He blinked.
“Okay. I - I was thinking about last semester, with that whole mess with Jessica.”
At her name he tensed, so I tried to rush through my explanation.
“My point is,” I urged on, “I want to do better. I’m trying to do better. And it took me forever, but I just thought that these were perfect. I can’t believe you made those names stick, but now they just make me think of you.”
I paused, and added a little indulgently, “Naked. But also not naked. It makes me think of other things, like wrestling and doing homework in the same chair and staying in bed ‘til noon. I think about you whispering that nickname at night, and it just brings back all my favorite memories of us.”
Okay, so brevity was not a Masen family trait. While I spoke, he sat perfectly still, looking back and forth between me and the two little insignias still balanced in his palms. He didn’t smile or speak, and his lack of response was positively nerve-wracking. He sat differently though, with his chest a little fuller and his hands cupped instead of rigid, and so I soldiered on.
“I love you, you know? That’s what I’m trying to say here. I do, and I made a mess ‘cause I didn’t say it enough. So I wanted to give you these patches so that you always know I love you, especially when I can’t say it out loud. ”
It was only then that he moved, leaning just barely forward and letting his mouth hang open like he was tasting his next words on the air, trying to find the right one.
“Jas? I can-”
“No,” he cut me off, and his voice was more breath than sound. And then he raised his hands the way one would hold an offering before an altar. “These literally just became the best gift ever.”
All the air I had trapped in my lungs came rushing out. “Really?”
Instead of answering, he slowly, gently, laid the insignias back in their box, which he moved to the nightstand. When he reached for me his whole face was soft, without any crinkle lines, except for one dimple from that lopsided smile that was his and his alone.
Hooking one hand behind my neck, he leaned across the space of our laps and kissed me once, softly. Then he did it again, and again, until I was poised over him, crawling across the bed to replace the covers keeping him warm. His kisses turned hungry, pulling the very breath out of my mouth, and his hands roamed up my back insistently like he was trying pull me so close that wherever he ended, I would begin.
We melded together, entwining our hands and legs and toes, until he craned his neck back into the pillow to see me.
“You know,” he said thoughtfully, “sometimes that head of yours surprises me.” And then he raised his whole torso off the bed to plant one wet, firm kiss on my forehead.
“Is that a good thing?”
He nodded, heavy-lidded and looking practically post-orgasmic. “Yeah. I feel… a lot better about going back to school now.”
I nodded, ashamed that he’d had doubts to ease in the first place, but also pleased and proud that I’d been able to take care of them. I had actually managed to do the right thing. For once.
I’m pretty sure what came next qualified as pillow talk, especially since he lifted his arm to make a space for me in the crook of his shoulder, and I molded myself against the planes of his body. His arms wrapped around me, gratifyingly snug, until we were both drifting closer to the extra sleep we’d been missing.
“You know,” he eventually mumbled, “I thought I was the only one who liked those names.”
“Are you kidding? Do you have any idea how much more interesting AP History will be?”
I felt him chuckle under my chest. “Oh man, the Battle of Antietam is gonna be so much more fun now.”
I snorted. “Who’s the nerd now?”
He craned his neck and raised an eyebrow at me. “Is this a war you really want to start?” And then, just to make his point, he reached his free arm across his chest to pull off my thick-framed glasses.
“No,” I muttered, settling more comfortably against him without them on. And then I thought, oh what the hell. “Major.”
Chapter 22