Chapter 1

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Chapter 1: Best Friends

My weekday mornings were usually pretty efficient. Wake up, get up, head to my adjoining bathroom, drain bladder, get in the shower, jerk off, wash, brush teeth, dress, eat breakfast, and wait outside for Edward to pick me up for school. Same fuckin' start to every weekday, like clockwork. I didn't mind the routine. I could do it all brain dead with my eyes closed, and the extra half an hour of functioning like a zombie was actually welcome. It was just another half hour I didn't have to remember how fuckin' miserable I was in this God-forsaken little piece of shit town where, if anyone ever actually found out the truth about me, I'd become either the social pariah or the circus freak. Nothing – not even being best friends with Edward Cullen – could make up for having to live in my very own personal corner of hell that was Forks, Washington. In fact, since the beginning of my junior year, when I finally had the balls to acknowledge to myself who I really was, being Edward's friend was torture as much as a reward. So anything I could do to shorten the time I would have to be consciously aware that I was actually living in Forks, was a welcome phenomenon.

Today, though, was a teacher's institute day, which meant my routine was disrupted. First of all, I got to sleep in. Two fuckin' extra hours of unconsciousness – it was like a gift from the gods. Second, I actually had choices on how to apply the hand brake. Most mornings the action was purely automatic and necessary. I'd discovered early on in high school that unless I made sure I was spent first thing, there was a near 100% chance of getting an uncontrollable boner at the most inopportune time. A session of turning Japanese first thing seemed like an easy ounce of prevention. But on days like today, when we had no school, I had options. I could skip the manual labor altogether (yeah, that was an option – not a bloody likely one, but still an option), proceed as efficiently as usual or, and this was clearly the most preferable of the three, savor a leisurely session in the comfort of my own bed. Needless to say, I made no move to get up.

I glanced over at the clock. Nine thirty meant that both my mom and step-father were already at work and my little sister was at day-care. I was home alone so I could make as much fuckin' noise as I wanted and I could really take my time. Knowing I was safe, I didn't even bother locking my bedroom door as I lifted my hips to slip off my boxers. I threw back the covers but kept the boxers nearby to help with the clean-up. I grabbed my hard cock firmly and started stroking it, slowly at first, just enjoying the feeling of skin on skin and the tightness of my fist.

Eventually my hand movements sped up. I closed my eyes and allowed myself to visualize the person I really wanted stroking and sucking my cock – Edward. Yeah, I fuckin' wanted Edward Cullen, my straighter than straight, pussy chasing best friend. It's not that I didn't find other guys good looking, because I certainly did, and it's not like I didn't stare at the guys in the teen magazines that all the stupid girls in our school drooled over, but only Edward featured prominently in all my fantasies. It didn't matter that he was completely unattainable on any level.

I was pretty sure I wasn't the only guy in Forks regularly chipping his morning wood and, on more than one occasion, his afternoon and evening wood too. I was relatively confident, though, that I was the only one doing it while picturing Edward at First Beach, wearing only his crooked smile and wet swim trunks, which clung suggestively to his body, and gave me a good idea of what the girls of Forks high school had been enjoying. No one who looked at him could deny that Edward, with his well-defined muscles and tall physique, was Adonis personified.

My hand was like a piston now, pumping furiously over my cock as I imagined Edward's hand sliding down one side of the narrowing V created by his hip bones and underneath the waistband of his trunks to stroke himself, the other hand pulling down the trunks revealing an amazingly large and gorgeous cock in a glorious state of arousal. I imagined his eyes hooding over with desire as he moved to me, letting our cocks brush as he caught my mouth in a searing, hard, passionate kiss.

The images in my head were working all too well and I knew I was going to come soon. I reached for my boxers with my left hand and threw them over my cock to catch the brunt of the imminent explosion. Never breaking my rhythm, I continued pumping, envisioning Edward's hips and cock grinding into mine. And then everything exploded and my cock erupted like a fuckin' Mount Vesuvius of jizz, the force of the orgasm so powerful my upper body actually lifted off the bed with each wave of cum.

When it was finally over I lay back, panting, eyes closed, right hand still leisurely stroking my rapidly softening cock as my body slowly came off the orgasmic high. I felt completely relaxed and briefly thought about getting out of bed, but knowing I had no plans made it easier to push those thoughts to the back of my head. I was feeling pretty fuckin' great right now, and the last thing I wanted to do was to let reality set in.

"Well someone's having a good fucking morning," the silky voice startled and panicked me. I immediately clamped my left hand over the boxers, making sure I was still covered up before opening my eyes and turning my head to speak to the person standing in my bedroom doorway.

"What the fuck, Edward? Since when do you just let yourself into my house without an invitation?" Somehow I managed to make my voice sound accusatory despite my absolute mortification over what was happening.

"Since I've been pounding on your front door for nearly 15 minutes with no response when I damn well knew you were home and someone was nice enough to leave the patio door unlocked."

"Ever hear of a phone?" I slid myself towards the headboard so I could sit up, still keeping the boxers firmly in place, my hand wet and sticky with the cock snot that had seeped through the fabric. I could feel a blush spreading on my cheeks, hating this girlish quality that I had absolutely no control over.

Edward shrugged and smirked, but remained silent.

"How long were you standing there?" I asked. I tried to make it seem like I didn't care about the answer, but inside I was praying to whatever entity protected us queers that he had arrived just as I was coming, so that at least my goods would have been covered up.

"Don't worry, Mr. Self-Conscious, I didn't get to peek behind the curtain. It's an interesting use you have for those boxers, by the way. A sock might be more appropriate. They're meant to absorb, you know."

"Fuck off," I said, debating how the hell I was going to get out of this with any of my pride. There was only one thing to do, and I prayed again that it would work. "And get the fuck out of my room!"

"Tsk, tsk," he sneered. "That's not very hospitable of you, Jasper. Why so shy? It's not like you've got anything I haven't seen a million times in the locker room."

"Edward!" I growled in warning. I was getting pissed. The whole situation was fuckin' ridiculous. As often as I imagined him seeing me naked, I sure as hell wasn't gonna let it happen now, not like this. "Get the fuck out of my room," I repeated, my voice lower and slower, heavy with an unspoken threat, "and close the fuckin' door behind you."

I saw the resignation as soon as it hit his eyes, and I felt the same surge of energy I always did when I successfully pushed back against one of his demands. Edward never backed off anyone, except me. Even with me, he didn't do it often. But, on occasion, he would realize that he had pushed me beyond the point of my endurance and he would retreat a bit. There was never an apology, never even an acknowledgement of a yield, but it was enough. It was moments like this that made me feel special and made all the other shit he put me through bearable. It was why, despite everything, I remained his best friend.

He moved back into the hallway with a sullen expression and pulled the door closed behind him. I leaped out of bed and ran to the bathroom, not trusting him to stay out of the room long enough for me to take the time to walk. I closed the bathroom door and clicked the lock, then leaned back against the door and let out a heavy sigh of relief. I dropped the boxers into the laundry hamper and walked over to the toilet, draining my now aching bladder as I examined myself in the mirror.

I was relatively good looking, though not ruggedly handsome, like Edward. Even I had to admit that my face was just a bit too feminine for that, my lips a bit too wide and full. Then again, I figured for someone with my preferences, having good blow job lips was not exactly a downside. And it's not like the girls at Forks high were repelled. I frowned as I thought how many had tried, both successfully and unsuccessfully, to kiss me. Wide lips aside, the rest of my face worked well. I had a pretty strong jaw and clear, bright-blue eyes. I overheard a couple of girls describe them once as "piercing" and the description actually seemed to fit. My nose was okay. Not perfectly straight and strong like Edwards, but nothing repellant. Overall, based on the reaction of others and what the mirror told me daily, no guy would want to chew his fuckin' arm off after waking up with me laying over it.

The rest of my body wasn't bad either. My build wasn't as athletic as Edward's, but all those workouts he had forced on me over the years had paid off and I had somehow transformed from scrawny and lanky to tall, lean and lightly ripped. My muscles added little bulk, but they were defined well enough to catch the eyes of more than one girl and to hopefully impress a boyfriend, once I was lucky enough to find one. I sighed. In just a few months I would be starting at University of Washington and maybe then, finally away from Edward and all this small town bullshit, I could come out and find a guy to star in my fantasies who actually wanted to be there.

My self-assessment complete, I shook off the stray droplets of piss and walked into the shower, flinching at the first blast of cold water. When the temperature warmed, I started enjoying myself, taking the time to leisurely wash my hair, working in a bit of a scalp massage, before lathering up the rest of my body. As I washed, I couldn't help but think of Edward, and I noticed that despite the morning's activities, my cock was already starting to rebound. I smirked as I began to stroke myself again, thinking that Edward walking in on my spankin' the monkey was going to be a great jumping off point for many a future fantasy. My imagination took off and I saw him slowly unbuttoning his shirt and throwing it into the corner of the room, then unbuttoning and unzipping his jeans, a glimpse of wiry bronze curls letting me know he had gone commando. Fantasy Edward slipped off his shoes then slid his jeans to the floor and stepped out of them gracefully on the way to joining me in bed. He climbed in over me and grabbed the boxers, tossing them aside as his lips descended to my chest, his tongue flicking against my hard nipple as his hand replaced mine on my cock. Fuck, I was lucky to have such a vivid imagination! The speed of my hand increased and I was just about to proceed to the final stage when I was interrupted by pounding on the door.

"Did you die in there, Jas? In case you forgot, I'm still fucking out here, waiting."

Shit! Thank God I thought to lock the door!

I started moving my hand as fast as I could, speeding through my second orgasm of the day until it became as utilitarian as my daily morning jerk. Oh well, I should have known better. Patience was not exactly Edward's virtue.

I rinsed off quickly after I finished and toweled off, grabbing a second dry towel to wrap around my waist. I put on deodorant and applied some product to my blond, wavy hair. I wore it long enough that it needed something to add a bit more body, but not so long that my conservative family had to be embarrassed. One last check in the mirror and, finally ready, I unlocked and opened the bathroom door to walk to my closet.

"It's about fucking time, Jasper!" Edwards was clearly frustrated. "Jesus Christ, I've known girls who took less time in the bathroom. Bella . . ."

"Piss off, Edward. I don't wanna hear it. Nobody said you had to wait."

What the fuck did he have to bring her into this for? He was batting a 1000 this morning, managing to hit a topic that never failed to rile me up – comparing me to that fuckin' cunt of a girlfriend of his, Bella Swan. If there was one person on the planet I could cheerfully dispose of with no regrets whatsoever, it would be her. It wasn't just that she had managed to capture his attention longer than any other girl, or that she got to suck him off and had him servicing her every fuckin' sexual need, or even that he'd always willingly break any plans he had with me in order to spend time with her. No. It was the fact that from the moment she and Edward started dating, she had been hostile to me and treated me like a piece of shit.

"Listen up, you little fuck," she said the first time we were alone, "you may have fooled everyone else, even Edward, with your little best friend act, but I've seen the way you watch him and I've got your number. And let me tell you right now, Edward's my boyfriend and there is no way some little faggot bitch like you is going to interfere with that. So you just stay out of my fucking way and keep your eyes and hands off Edward. 'Cause if I ever catch you even thinking about him the wrong way, I swear I'll grab my daddy's shotgun and turn you into a eunuch."

Her physical threats didn't scare me a bit. They were almost laughable. Especially since Edward had absolutely no interest in me whatsoever and she seemed to have bewitched him completely, not the least because for the first 9 months of their relationship she had locked up her pussy tight and kept him waiting with some cock and bull story about needing to wait until she was 18 to pop her cherry. Edward, who'd never had to wait more than a few hours to be granted full access between any girl's legs, was both frustrated and fascinated, and he couldn't walk away without breaking his streak. So what the fuck was she so worried about me for?

Of course, just because her physical threats were pointless, didn't mean that, armed with knowledge as she was, she couldn't make my life in Forks even more miserable than it already was without lifting a finger, much less her daddy's shotgun. And the absolutely last thing I fuckin' needed in my life was to be outed before I was ready by fuckin' Bella Swan. Despite her apparent concern, I knew Edward was a complete homophobe, and if he knew I was gay he would drop kick me and our friendship so fast my head would spin. And I couldn't take that kind of rejection from him. Not here and now. Maybe not ever. My fantasy of coming out and finding a partner never involved telling Edward. In fact, a part of me hoped that we would completely lose touch after graduation, so he'd never have to know about that part of my life. I would rather never speak to him again and keep the memory of our friendship intact than to face his outright rejection.

The thought brought me up short. As far as I knew, Edward was supposed to spend his day with Bella. So what the fuck was he doing in my room? Jesus Christ, I really didn't want Bella up my ass about trying to take away her boyfriend. The crazy bitch might just decide to make good on her threats.

"So what are you doing here, Edward?" I asked warily. "I thought you and Bella were gonna be occupied today?" I picked out my clothes and started walking back to the bathroom.

"She's got some fucking English project to work on and I didn't feel like spending my day off sitting in her room watching her type. So I told her you and I were going to Port Angeles. I'll see her tonight."

I paused. I really didn't feel like going to Port Angeles. I'd been looking forward to lazing around the house all day. But I didn't say anything. I had already won my quota of victories for the week, if not the month. If Edward wanted to go to Port Angeles, that's where we'd go.

"Yeah, all right" I said, though we both knew that the pretense of choice on my part was just for show. I started walking back to the bathroom.

"You gonna take another hour in there making yourself pretty, Jas?" I heard Edward call out. I slammed the bathroom door and hastily put on my boxers, jeans and V-neck T-shirt. The shirt, loose enough to be respectable but fitted enough to show off my defined shape, was one of my favorites, and I mentally berated myself for the choice, knowing that subconsciously I had dressed this way for Edward.

Stupid ass! He'll never be into you that way unless you decide to cut off your dick and buy yourself a pussy, and probably not even then.

I went back out into the room. Edward was looking at me carefully.

"You know," he said, "it just occurred to me that I've seen just about every guy our age in Forks naked at one time or another, except you. How the fuck is that possible? How have we never been in the same gym class?"

If I had more guts I would have called him out on it. I would have reached for the button of my jeans, undone it slowly, pulled down the zipper, slid my hand inside my boxers to stroke myself, and said something clever like 'Gee, Edward, I didn't know you were that eager to see my cock. It's right here waiting for you, big boy. Come and get it!' But I was gutless, so instead I merely shrugged.

"Just worked out that way, I guess."

Worked out that way? What a fuckin' joke! It worked out that way because I'd carefully arranged it, semester after semester. The one advantage of being Edward's right hand man is that I could tell people that Edward wanted shit a certain way and no one questioned it, they just did as they were told. Most of the time this weapon was too precious to use and abuse, but I sure as fuck used it to make sure Edward and I were always scheduled to take gym at different times. I so couldn't afford to get a raging hard on after seeing or accidentally touching a naked Edward.

The whole thing was easier to arrange than I would have thought. I always made sure I picked up Edward's schedule for him and then, if I saw we had gym together, I'd go back to the counselor and tell him that Edward wanted a change. I said the word and his class schedule was changed. Easy as 1,2,3.

"Well, whatever," Edward said, clearly already bored with the subject. "Let's get the fuck outa here before the whole day is over."

I grabbed my wallet and stuck it in my back pocket, then followed Edward downstairs. I made a quick stop in the kitchen to grab some cereal bars and a bottle of orange juice for the road. I knew Edward hated when anyone ate in his precious Volvo, but he wouldn't do anything to stop me so as not to delay us leaving. I got in on the passenger side and barely had time to buckle my seatbelt before Edward took off like a bat out of hell. He always drove like a fuckin' maniac.

Edward turned on the stereo and turned up the volume. I guess he didn't feel like talking while he drove today. I ate my cereal bars and drank my juice before sinking back into the seat. I glanced over at him, his fuckin' perfect profile making my heart accelerate. I should have been used to it by now, but he always had this effect on me. I looked away and zoned out, letting my thoughts about him take over.

I met Edward when we were both 10 years old, and he instantly decided that we would be best friends. At the time I couldn't have realized how much that decision would impact my life. All I knew was that this boy, who seemed to have everyone in town wrapped around his finger, took an interest in me and allowed me to join his group. I was awestruck and grateful to be chosen

Ours was a strange friendship. No one could have predicted it before it happened and for years everyone expected it to fall apart. We were as different as night and day, had only the most superficial things in common, and absolutely no one, including me, could ever figure out why Edward choose to make me his side kick, his wing-man, his second in command. Of course I idolized him from the start, but so did all the others. He never explained his choice and I never pressed for an explanation, worrying that thinking about it too much might cause him to change his mind. The one thing I knew with certainty was that I could never let that happen. Even in those earliest days, at the ripe age of 10, I needed to be close to Edward the same way I needed air to breathe.

We met shortly after my arrival in Forks. I grew up in the Houston suburbs. My parents split up when I was seven. It wasn't dramatic or exciting – they were simply two people who made a mistake thinking they could build a life together. After a few years they acknowledged the futility of trying and simply drifted apart. My father, a successful novelist, moved to New York City, to an apartment near Central Park. From then on I saw him on occasional weekends, for a week at Christmas and every summer vacation. My mother and I stayed in our Houston home. She took a year to regroup and make sure I adjusted to the divorce, and then started dating. Following several relationships that were too long to be casual and too short to be anything else, she met Jerry. They dated for six months before getting married. I didn't mind. Jerry was nothing like my father, whom I worshipped with all the ardor a young boy can muster, but he was never unkind to me and, on occasion, he was even loving. He certainly loved my mother and treated her very well, which I could recognize even at that age. So Jerry and I co-existed in my mother's affections, and life moved on.

Jerry was a school administrator, and a year after he married my mom he took a position as the Superintendent of Schools in Forks. I hated the thought of moving. I was never a particularly social child, but in Houston I had a small group of close friends and I was relatively happy. I didn't look forward to moving to a place known for constant rain, mist and cloud cover, where I wouldn't know anyone. I knew Forks was even smaller than the suburb we lived in, making my pool of potential friends considerably smaller as well. However, since I had absolutely no say it the mater, I resigned myself to my fate, obediently packed up my belongings, and allowed myself to be transplanted into our new home.

We moved in late August, a few days before the start of the school year. Jerry settled into his new job and mom settled us into our house. She tried to get me to look for neighborhood friends, but I figured it wasn't worth the effort. I could meet everyone at once when school actually started. In the meantime, I set up my room and played video games, my favorite past time.

Our new house was close enough to Forks elementary that I could walk to school by myself. I was happy about that, having hated the morning drop off and afternoon pick up routine in Houston. I couldn't have known that walking to school would put me right in the path of the town's only two bullies – Sam and Paul. The very first day they stopped me and demanded that I hand over my lunch money. They were older and bigger than me, and I knew the smart thing to do would have been to give in to their demands, but for some crazy reason I did not want to start at this new school with a reputation as a pushover, so I refused. Paul had shoved me hard and I fell onto my back, with my backpack only slightly cushioning my fall. Sam was getting ready to kick me when he stopped abruptly, looking at someone behind me.

I turned to see a boy walking towards us. He had well defined features, green eyes and messy bronze hair. Though he was with a group of other boys, he was clearly the leader. He was tall for his age, but not nearly as big as Sam or Paul, so I was surprised he walked with absolutely no fear to stand between me and the two bullies. He narrowed his eyes and looked me over carefully, as if memorizing every detail. Our eyes locked and I stared back at him, not sure what to do or say. I felt extremely uncomfortable, as if I were taking some sort of a silent test. I swallowed hard and I felt my heartbeat accelerating even more than when I thought I was going to get beaten to a fuckin' pulp by the two bullies. For whatever reason, this non-verbal confrontation seemed even more dangerous.

Finally, after what seemed like a few tense minutes, but could have been just a few seconds, he seemed satisfied. His face returned to the bored, impassive look he wore when he walked up earlier.

"Who are you?" he asked as he offered me his hand to help me stand.

"Jasper Whitlock," I answered.

"You're new here? The Superintendent's kid?"

I nodded. "Step-kid," I clarified. The different last names would be a dead giveaway anyway.

"Do you play football?"

I shook my head. "I don't play sports." I was astounded that the whole conversation was going on as though we were the only two people on the sidewalk. He seemed completely oblivious to the presence of the two older boys or his entourage.

"Good student?"

I shrugged. "I'm okay."

"What do you like to do?"

I scrunched my face in confusion, not knowing why I was playing this game of 20 questions with a complete stranger. But even then, from the very first moment, I was unable to refuse him anything, so I listed some of my favorite video games and comic book series.

"I like those too," he said, "and I like you. Come on, we're gonna be best friends. I'm Edward Cullen," he added, almost as an afterthought. Then he turned to look at the two boys who had accosted me.

"I suggest you girls run along, and I might just ignore the fact that you tried to mess with my best friend."

I saw the boys exchange a confused look and hesitate in their response.

"Unless of course you'd like me to really think about it," I was in awe at how menacing he sounded at such a young age within two boys who were obviously bigger and older.

They didn't stop to think this time. They just walked away as fast as they could.

"Thanks," I said after they were out of hearing range. "I owe you one."

"Don't mention it," Edward said, slinging an arm around my shoulders, "that's what best friends do for each other. Now come on, you don't wanna be late on your first day."

I was grateful for the rescue, but I also felt extremely self-conscious walking to school with Edward's arm around my shoulder like we had known each other forever. I glanced at the other boys in the group, most of whom looked either confused or resentful or both, and I really wondered what I had gotten myself into. Edward seemed like a force of nature. Crowds of students gathered on the sidewalk in front of the school parted and stood aside as our group approached. I saw people watching us, whispering. I hated being the center of attention.

Edward and I walked into the school together. The rest of his group stayed behind, almost as if receiving some silent signal. Edward dropped his arm and indicated for me to follow him to the administration office. Once we got there he turned on a bright smile.

"Good morning, Mrs. Heffler," he said, "How was your summer."

The secretary looked at him through her black rimmed glasses. She immediately smiled.

"Hello Edward. I had a great summer, how about you?"

He shrugged. "It was all right, I guess. I'm glad to be back in school. I just met my new best friend. This is Jasper Whitlock."

Mrs. Heffler's attention shifted to me for a moment. She was clearly as surprised by my sudden friendship with Edward as the students. She looked down at her desk.

"Ah yes, Mr. Whitlock. We've been expecting you. We met your father at the staff meeting yesterday, of course."

"Step-father," I muttered, "and my name is Jasper."

"All right, then, Jasper," she was clearly a bit flustered, "your step-father told us a lot about you. He's very proud of you, you know."

I looked up at her with surprise. Jerry proud of me? What would he have to be proud of?

"Um, right," I said. Brilliant fuckin' response.

"So, Mrs. Heffler, seeing as how Jasper is my best friend now, I wondered if we could be in the same classes and if our lockers could be next to each other."

I looked at Edward in shock. Did he really think the school was going to re-arrange my class schedule and locker location just because he decided to make me his best friend after knowing me for less than a minute? I could clearly tell that was exactly what he thought. Even more astounding was the fact that instead of laughing him out of the office, Mrs. Heffler said, "Of course, Edward. Let me see what I can do."

This was starting to feel really eerie, like I stepped into a Stephen King movie. This kind of stuff just didn't happen in real life. Except, apparently, in Forks.

Edward ended up having his way. Not only were we in the same class with our lockers right next to each other, we also sat next to each other and somehow ended up in all the same groups every time a grouping was called for. Basically, from that day on, Edward and I were nearly inseparable.

I hadn't fully realized it the first day, but being Edward's best friend had its advantages. While I may have completely lost control of my own life, I gained a whole lot of control over others. Somehow, in a way that I could never comprehend, Edward had everyone in Forks either charmed or terrified, and regardless of which group they fell into, they all did whatever Edward wanted. And since I spoke for Edward, by extension they all did what I wanted as well.

As for Edward and me, we were each other's confidants and we had each other's backs. We shared some interests and, to the extent we had interests the other didn't, Edward still found ways for us share them in non-traditional ways, like when he convinced the football coach to create a position of team statistician for me, so I had reason to go to the practices and games, or when he suggested to the principal that scholastic bowl meets should be held in front of an audience, so that he and the rest of our group could watch me compete.

We were together almost all the time. After school he would come over to my house or I would go over to his to do homework, play games or watch TV. We'd hang out together on the weekends, sometimes with the rest of the group and sometimes just the two of us. Edward was always the leader, but on occasion he'd let me choose our activities. He'd humor me sometimes if there was a movie or TV show I wanted to see that he wasn't interested in, or if I wanted to go to a particular joint to eat. I realized later that this too was a form of control. Giving up just a little bit to make the other person feel like they weren't totally whipped. And he'd played me right. I was thrilled every time I got to make a choice, and pretty thrilled with the choices he made the rest of the time.

The only time Edward and I were ever apart was when I was with my father in New York. Even then, we were in contact almost daily through e-mail and occasional phone calls. Each fall I would come back and ask Edward about his summer, even though I already knew every minute detail, and he'd make some crack about how Forks was so boring he was actually looking forward to school starting. Then he'd ask about my summer, even though he already knew every detail of that as well, and I'd describe again all the things I did in New York City. It was the only time he ever looked at me with envy.

Things changed for us a little in high school. We had different academic interests and abilities, so we could no longer take all the same classes. As football got more intense I stayed away from practices and joined a few clubs that met at the same time. I still went to all the games, of course, but Edward and I were no longer joined at the hip. Then he started dating, and his weekends got filled up with going out with this or that girl. We still spent a lot of time together, but now there were these "other" people attached to him who interfered with our easy dynamic. No girl seemed to last longer than a few weeks, so I learned not to like them or even try to get to know them. There was no point in wasting time or getting attached, because everyone knew the girls would not be permanent fixtures. Everyone but the girls, apparently, since each of them thought she would be the one to break Edward's pattern.

The worst part was when the bitches came to me after he dumped them, asking for advice, trying to find a way back into his heart or, at the very least, his pants. A few of them actually wanted to date me, figuring I was close enough. I didn't have any of that shit. At first, I told myself that I wasn't interested in Edward's sloppy seconds. Then I figured out that I was gay, which explained everything. There was only one person I was really attracted to – Edward.

So even though I was always jealous as all hell of the girls he was dating, I was grateful to them too, especially once I figured out I was queer. I knew every moment I actually spent alone with Edward put me that much closer to exposure, and one thing I knew for certain was that coming out in Forks, where the openly gay and lesbian populations was exactly zero, was simply not an option, especially if I wanted to keep seeing Edward.

Things changed again when he started dating Bella mid-way through our junior year. Besides being a raging bitch, she monopolized his time completely, seemingly taking pleasure in being able to interfere with our friendship. It bothered the shit out of me how easily he went along with all her whims, but her threats worked to keep my trap shut, so I just stewed about it in private. I didn't know what the fuck he saw in her. She was pretty, but certainly not the prettiest in school. Smart, but not the smartest. And she was the fuckin' police chief's daughter, which made her dangerous. But I guess keeping that pussy of hers under lock and key did the trick in the beginning. And she must have been good at whatever she did afterwards too, because even after she gave Edward everything he'd been waiting for in September of our Senior year, he'd stayed with her. I just bristled and leaped at whatever scraps of time he had left over for me, knowing at least that it was still more than he had for anyone else. Yes, I knew I was a fuckin' spineless pussy. I knew I should have gotten over him and moved on. But that magnetic pull he had on me never eased, and I knew that the only thing worse than having bits and pieces of his time was not having any of his time at all. I only hoped that this would all change when we finally went our separate ways for college, and distance would finally break that irresistible pull.

"Jas, Jas, what the fuck is wrong with you?" I was startled by Edward's voice and the sound of his fingers snapping centimeters away from my face. I turned to look at him.

"What?" I asked anxiously, wondering what I had missed while lost in thought.

"I asked what you wanted to do," Edward explained. "Do you want to eat first or go hit the batting cages, or maybe go bowling or to a movie?"

I was shocked. He was actually giving me a choice? Shit. I wasn't prepared for that. Still, I saw he expected an answer, and fast.

"Whatever you want, Edward," I said. "I don't fuckin' care."

He scrutinized me carefully. He knew well enough that he rarely gave me a chance to choose our activities and that I usually jumped at a chance to have a say in what we did. Fuck! I should have been prepared for this. That'll teach me to daydream when I was with him. It's not like I didn't have plenty of fuckin' time to do it when he wasn't around. Now he'd be suspicious.

"Let's eat first," I added before he could say anything. Eating would give me time to think. He relaxed and opened the car door. I looked around and saw that he had parked the car in front of our favorite Port Angeles diner. I guess even without knowing what I was doing, I had chosen correctly. I breathed a sigh of relief and got out of the car as well.

Chapter 2

Click here to read the Disclaimer and Warning.


Chapter 2: Friends with Benefits

We walked into the diner and grabbed a booth. The waitress came over with the menus, but we didn't even have to look. We quickly ordered our standard meals. Coffee and fresh squeezed orange juice for the both of us, a 2x2x2 breakfast for Edward and a hobo skillet for me. It really didn't matter what time of day we came here – our order has always been the same. Had been ever since my parents first brought us here after one event or another when we were still 12. As soon as I got my license we started driving out here regularly, and by an unspoken rule we'd never brought anyone else.

Our coffee arrived and I took the time to stir in sugar and half & half. Edward drank his black. I envied him that. It was a hell of a lot quicker and easier. But I'd never been able to tolerate coffee without the flavor mellowers.

I stirred the light brown liquid in my cup and watched as Edward rolled up the sugar packet paper and twirled it absentmindedly between his fingers. He was staring down at the table and he seemed off, agitated. I didn't say anything, knowing he would speak when he was ready and not before. Instead I took a sip of my coffee, enjoying the warmth of the liquid as it flowed down my throat. There was something about diner coffee – it was always better than the crap my parents brewed at home.

Suddenly Edward looked up, his green eyes fixed on me.

"I've been a real dick lately," he said. "The shit at spring break . . ."

I looked away from him, out the window to stare at his car. My fingers tightened around the handle of the coffee mug. I knew this was his way of apologizing and I wished he hadn't. I just wanted to forget spring break. I wasn't in the mood to forgive, and that's exactly what he was trying to force me to do.

"Yeah, whatever," I said, trying to sound nonchalant. I needed to strike the right tone here. If he sensed that I was holding back we'd be fuckin' sitting here, not communicating, for hours.

"There was just a lot of other crap going on and when you . . ."

Fuck. I didn't do a good enough job. Jesus, I so didn't want to spend my afternoon trying to help resolve his issues when I still had so many of my own. Please, fuckin' please, help me nip this shit in the bud.

"I said, whatever, Edward," I was more insistent this time. I turned my eyes back to him, trying to send him a non-verbal message that this was not the right time or place.

The truth was, I didn't think I could ever forgive him for what happened at the end of spring break. The fact that I was sitting here across from him having what passed as civilized conversation after what he'd done was a testament to my own weakness and addiction. I often wondered just how high my tolerance was. How much more would I take before I finally had enough balls to realize that he just wasn't worth it and walk away? Clearly I hadn't yet reached my limit.

But while I continued to take his crap, I could not bring myself to forgive. The best I could do was what I already had done. Try to blame some of it on that cunt Bella and compartmentalize the rest. Shove it into a locked box and throw away the key. I sure as fuck didn't need Edward trying to now pick at that lock. Absolutely nothing good was going to come out of opening this up again.

The food arrived and I dug in, grateful for the distraction. As I ate, I couldn't help remembering.

Edward had been planning the senior spring break trip since we were sophomores. That year some of the seniors discovered an awesome rental hose in Florida, close to the beach but far away from the more popular and overcrowded spring break destinations. The perfect house to party away from the masses and the gone wild camera crews. He knew the exact group of people who were going to go and there was never any question that I was going with them. Then junior year I figured out that I was into guys in general, and Edward specifically, and he started dating Bella. Suddenly I was the odd man out and the thought of spending a week in a house watching Bella and Edward together was more than I could bear. I stayed silent, though, figuring there was still over a year to go before the trip, and anything could change.

That summer, as usual, I went to stay with my dad in New York city. My time in New York was normally pretty solitary. My dad wrote in his study while I watched TV or played video games. When he wasn't writing he'd take me on research trips with him, or we'd go to see plays, or check out new exhibits in museums. After I got old enough, I would occasionally venture out on my own to spend a day in Central Park or people watching in Times Square or just bumming around the city. For the most part I was alone, and I didn't mind. It really wasn't worth it to me to make friends for just the few weeks I would stay there every year, and I actually enjoyed not having to cater to anyone's whims but my own. I stayed in contact with Edward throughout the summer via e-mail, and when I got really lonely I would call. And, on occasion, he'd be the one to call first. It was all fine, all routine. But that summer between my junior and senior year I met Peter, and everything changed.

Peter's family had just moved into my father's apartment building from Chicago. Being a recent transplant, Peter had no friends in New York. We met one day on the elevator, both of us heading out to explore the city with no specific destination. At first we both eyed each other warily, not sure what to make of the other. Peter, more gregarious than me, introduced himself first, prompting me to reciprocate. He told me about being new in town and I told him about living in Forks during the school year and only spending my summers in New York. He asked if I was going somewhere special or if I was interested in hanging out with him. Since I really had nowhere to go, we decided to spend the day together and found we got along great. And from that day forward my summer was no longer solitary.

We started out as friends. We either hung out in each other's apartments or checked out different areas of the city. Peter was a genius at finding free festivals and events, and we attended as many as we could. We also spent a lot of time talking, and discovered we were kindred spirits. We talked about hobbies, music, school, friends, just about anything we might have in common. Neither of us ever mentioned girls, though, and at some point I became conscious of this and started looking at Peter in a different way. Suddenly I noticed his smooth, olive-toned skin, the softness of his lips, the warmth in his brown eyes, the strand of jet black hair that always seemed to fall forward onto his forehead, the dimple in his left cheek that only appeared when he fully smiled . . . With shock, embarrassment and a little bit of horror I found myself thinking about Peter when we were apart, especially at night while in bed. Edward was still the star of my fantasies, but thoughts of Peter started becoming more prevalent. I even started dreaming about him, thankful I was too old to suffer the typical consequences of such dreams. But for all this, I wasn't brave enough to say or do anything to confirm my suspicions or give any of my thoughts away.

Then, one sunny July afternoon, walking through Central Park on our way to a free concert at the Metropolitan Museum of Art, Peter reached over and took my hand. I looked at him in shock, but he kept his eyes forward, walking with our clasped hands swinging between us. I debated pulling my hand away, but I loved the feel of his soft, warm skin on mine, so we just kept walking, with no other acknowledgement exchanged between us. Peter didn't let go of my hand even as he pulled me through the museum to the great sculpture hall where we sat side by side in the back of the room, our fingers still intertwined, his thumb moving in gentle, lazy circles over my skin. He looked at me periodically, his dimpled smile reaching all the way to his eyes. Once he winked at me, causing me to blushed and look away, feeling like a pre-teen girl out on her first date. I didn't remember much about the concert itself, the electric current passing between us taking up much too much of my concentration.

On the return trip through the park, Peter pulled me off the path behind a grouping of trees and shrubs until we stood chest to chest, relatively sheltered from the eyes of curious passersby. We stared into each other's eyes for a moment before he moved his free hand up to caress my cheek and then tilted his face up and moved forward, reaching up to touch his lips to mine. The kiss was perfect, neither too gentle nor too aggressive. His sweet, full lips explored mine carefully but deliberately, as his hand moved from my cheek to grasp the back of my neck to pull me in even closer. I felt my lips part as I sighed into his mouth. His tongue quickly found the entrance and explored the inside of my mouth as though it was the world's greatest delicacy, causing me to moan quietly. Our tongues met and slid against each other, and I started to feel lightheaded from the overwhelming volume of emotions coursing through me. This wasn't my first kiss, but it was the first time I'd kissed a guy, and I was filled with the most profound understanding and confirmation that this was what I had been waiting for all my life.

"I've been wanting to do that for weeks," Peter said, stroking his thumb over my slightly swollen lips after we finally broke apart, both more than slightly breathless.

I didn't know how to respond, so I just stared at him with lust-glazed eyes. I could feel myself trembling and he must have noticed as well, because he sat down on the grass and pulled me down to sit with him. He put his arms around me and pulled me close to his chest in a comforting hug.

"First time?" he murmured, his voice full of understanding. Still unable to speak, I merely nodded against him.

"No wonder you were so reluctant to make a move," he chuckled softly, but it was a conspiratorial laugh, not a derisive one. "I'm glad I finally worked up the guts to do it. We would have wasted the whole summer if I'd waited for you."

"How did you know?" I asked quietly. "You must be pretty experienced." My head was still buried in his chest. I was too embarrassed to show him my face.

He was having none of it. He leaned back so he could look at me.

"Nah. I mean, I've kissed some guys, yeah, and messed around a little with one, but I wouldn't say I'm experienced. Still, I have a pretty good intuition about these things and my gaydar has been going off the charts since the day I met you. I was just hoping I wasn't wrong. We've been having such a great summer as friends, I didn't want to ruin it by making a move on you, only to find you were not into guys."

"Am I really that obvious?" I asked, looking away. So far the only person that had shared their knowledge of my sexual orientation with me had been Bella. No one else seemed to have noticed. Now I wondered if everyone knew and was just participating in a giant game of 'don't ask, don't tell.'

"Don't worry – you're not. Not to people who don't know what to look for and wouldn't want to see even if they did. Seriously, you're a manly, macho stud and you can safely stay in the closet for as long as you want as, I hope, can I."

"You're not out yet either, then?"

"No," he shook his head. "My parents seem to be OK with the whole gay thing, but it's one thing to be OK about others and another when it's your own kid. This kind of thing is not really all that accepted in our community," he laughed bitterly. "It's kind of ironic, really, since once upon a time . . . But anyway, I don't know how they would handle it, and I have two little siblings that might be hurt if there was a family conflict. And so far there's been no one good enough to come out for, so why upset the apple cart for no reason, you know? When the time is right I'll tell them. But for now, while I'm still living at home with no other options and no one special in my life, what's the point?"

I nodded my understanding, realizing that he was echoing my feelings.

"So what does all this mean for us for the rest of the summer?" I asked. I thoroughly enjoyed our kiss, but I knew I was merely fascinated with Peter. Whatever we had between us, it didn't feel like I was in love.

"I don't know," he shrugged. "I'd like to think we're still friends," he gave me a seductive look from beneath his long, black lashes. "With benefits?"

I threw my head back and laughed at the simplicity and accuracy of his question. I leaned forward again, pressing my forehead against his. "That sounds great, Peter. Friends with benefits."

The benefits didn't turn out to be as extensive as we would have liked, in part because we were still pretty new to it all and more than a bit freaked out, and also because we really didn't have a lot of opportunities to engage in any sort of sexual activities. My dad was always working at his apartment and a nanny watched Peter's little brother and sister at his. Neither one of us felt comfortable doing much more than lightly kissing or holding hands in public, and even that was too often clouded by fear that we'd be seen by our parents or someone who knew them. About the only time we could be alone was when the nanny took Jane and Alec to the playground, and we feared it would look suspicious if we were at Peter's apartment every day around that time, so we tried to limit ourselves to once a week. When we were finally alone at first we just kissed, which I never tired of. We moved on to petting and dry humping and, eventually, we exchanged hand jobs. But we were always cognizant of our mutual inexperience and had decided to go slow. Plus, we lived in perpetual fear of the nanny and the kids coming home earlier than expected and catching us in a compromising position.

We spent a lot of time that summer talking about everything. I told Peter about Edward and he told me about a couple of unrequited crushes he had on boys back in Chicago. He also told me about his first boyfriend, an older guy named Aro, whose professed love for Peter seemed to disappear when Peter didn't want to go far enough fast enough. We even discussed our growing feelings for each other, debating whether we should consider moving our relationship beyond friendship. But in the end I knew I would not have been able to keep a clandestine relationship going after I went back to Forks and Peter admitted that he wanted to be able to fool around with other guys after the school year started. I only felt envy at his announcement, and my complete lack of jealousy told me everything I needed to know. Peter was a fantastic guy, but he simply wasn't "the one."

Which, of course, did not get in the way of our experimentation, especially when one August afternoon we were presented with the perfect opportunity. The day had been hot and humid and neither one of us wanted to leave the building, so we'd spent the morning in my dad's apartment playing video games. At lunch dad announced that he was able to arrange for a last minute interview with an expert as part of his research for his new novel, and he left for Connecticut. We knew he wouldn't be back until the evening, leaving us alone with Rosa, my dad's housekeeper. She was supposed to be cleaning the apartment all day, but I quickly told her that if she wanted she could work faster and leave when everything was done, and I wouldn't tell my father a thing. She thanked me profusely and left by 2:30. Peter and I finally had the apartment all to ourselves, at least for a few hours, without having to worry about any interruptions.

As soon as I locked the door behind Rosa I grabbed Peter's hand and pulled him into my bedroom. We stood at the edge of my bed, grateful to be able to properly wrap our arms around each other as we kissed passionately, letting our lips and tongues explore each other's freely. We loved being finally able to vocalize, and the sounds of our combined groans only increased my already painful arousal. Through some silent mutual agreement, we proceeded slowly, savoring the intimacy.

Peter inched up my shirt to pull it over my head. His breath caught slightly when he saw my naked chest, which he immediately covered with a trail of blazing, open mouth kisses. Not to be outdone, I tugged Peter's shirt out of his jeans and pulled it over his head, revealing his chest and stomach. Peter was a bit shorter than me not as muscular, but he was still in great shape and I absolutely loved his olive skin and a center patch of wavy black chest hair.

"Damn, Peter, you're so fuckin' hot!" I told him.

He looked up at me for a second, amusement and pleasure filling his chocolate eyes, before returning his attention to my chest. I eagerly ran my hands over him, using my fingers to pinch and twist his nipples until they hardened under my touch, then moving my fingers through his chest hair and down the happy trail that disappeared into the waistband of his jeans. I used my right hand to grasp his chin, forcing him to look up before I crushed my lips over his as my hand, fingers splayed wide, traveled over the side of his neck to his shoulder to his back, pulling him closer into me. Loving the feeling of our bare chests and abdomens brushing against each other, I moved my left hand to Peter's back as well and then sent both hands down, slipping underneath the waistband of his jeans and boxers to cup his firm ass cheeks and bring us even closer together.

We moaned in unison as our hard cocks rubbed against each other through our jeans. Peter lowered his hands to unbutton and unzip my jeans. He slipped his right hand under the fabric of my boxers, his fingers curling around my cock. I let out another moan and moved my head to nip at his neck and shoulder.

"I fuckin' love the way you touch me," I whispered.

"And I love to touch you, Jasper," he said, his voice low and husky. "I love the way your cock fits into my hand. I love the feel of your skin. I love your hips bucking with my rhythm and I love how beautiful you look when I make you come." He pumped my cock several times, applying just the right amount of pressure and friction to make me moan again, louder this time.

"Fuck, Peter, I love when you talk like that. I could come right now just listening to you."

I slid one of my hands around, still on the inside of his boxers, and grasped his dick. He sucked in his breath for a second before slipping out of my reach by falling to his knees.

"That would be too big of a waste, Babe. We may never have this chance again so today I want to do more than just touch you. I want to suck your cock. I want to feel you in my mouth and I want to make you come so that I can finally properly taste you," he was looking up at me, pleading with those gorgeous brown eyes as he pulled down my jeans and boxers, like I would be the one doing him a favor by fuckin' his beautiful mouth. "May I, Jasper? Will you please let me suck you?" He pressed his lips to my hip, his tongue darting out to flick along the length of my pelvic bone, making me intake my breath sharply with pleasure.

I stepped out of my jeans and boxers, standing naked before him. With some surprise I realized that I wasn't at all embarrassed. In fact, from the way he looked at me as he knelt before me, I felt like a fuckin' Greek god about to be worshipped, with all the hubris that went along with it. Impossibly, my cock got even harder. I looked down at him and confidently spoke the word he'd been waiting for. "Yes."

Peter's mouth instantly descended on my dick as he wrapped his soft lips around my head. I sighed with pleasure at the sensation of the suction combined with his tongue exploring my all around my head and dipping into the slit.

"Fuck, Peter, Jesus!" I groaned and thrust my hips forward into his face. He opened his mouth wider and took in more of my length until my head was hitting the back of his throat. I saw him gag slightly and I immediately tried to pull back, but he looked up at me and shook his head almost imperceptibly, placing his hands on my ass to pull me in even deeper.

"Oh God, fuck!" I nearly screamed, "Your mouth feels like fuckin' paradise."

He pulled back, letting my cock fall out of his mouth and I whimpered in frustration, but he immediately ran his tongue along the length of my shaft and blew softly on my head, the coolness of his breath a stark contrast on my overheated skin, slicked with his saliva and my own pre-cum.

"Keep talking, Babe. I want to know how this makes you feel," he said before sucking in my cock again, his cheeks hollowed out to create a tighter vacuum.

"Oh. God. So. Good." My cadence matched the rhythm of my hip thrusts into his willing mouth. "Mm. Fuck. Yeah." The tempo was increasing as he sucked harder and his right hand moved from my ass to massage my balls. "Christ. Please. Oooh. More. Right. There. Yes! Fuck!" His head was bobbing faster, meeting each of my thrusts. My mind was getting cloudy. As much as I wanted to watch, it was hard keeping my eyes open and I felt my thighs quivering and my knees weakening. I put my hands on his head to stop his motion and pulled out of his mouth.

"Babe?" he looked up at me, hurt and confused. "Did I do something wrong?"

I quickly placed my hands beneath his arm pits and hauled him up, my mouth attacking his greedily.

"No, Peter." I said moments later as I pulled my lips away, still holding him close. "You did everything right. Too right. I was afraid . . ." Fuck! I could see from his expression that he was filled with self-doubt and I cursed myself for my own damn weakness. I knew this was his first time doing this, and here I was giving him a complex. I had to remedy the situation fast. "Sweetness, you were so fuckin' good I was afraid I wouldn't be able to stay on my feet."

Relief and understanding flooded his eyes, and his lips curled up into a smile, the dimple appearing on his left cheek. He turned our bodies 90 degrees and leaned into me so that I tumbled onto the bed with him on top. He immediately slid down, again kneeling between my legs, and re-enveloped my cock with his amazing mouth. I propped myself up on my elbows to watch, but then he started sucking in earnest and humming, and all I could do was to throw my head back and allow unintelligible primal groans tumble through my voice box from somewhere deep within.

Just when I thought nothing could feel better than the vibrations of Peter's hum combined with the deep suction, and I mumbled an almost incoherent warning about coming, Peter's hand moved beneath my balls and he pressed his fingers hard against my perineum. I cried out as my whole body constricted and released in wave after wave of sheer pleasure, only vaguely aware that Peter hadn't stopped and was still continuing to suck me dry. I collapsed on the bed, eyes closed, breathing heavy, heart thundering in my chest.

I felt Peter slinking his way up the side of my body to lay beside me and I opened my eyes to see him propping his head on his bent left arm. He was wearing a satisfied smile and his eyes twinkled with pride.

"That sounded pretty good," he teased, his right hand moving over my chest. "Like you might have enjoyed it or something."

I groaned and reached over to pull him to me for a deep kiss, hissing a bit at the friction caused by his jeans rubbing against my sensitive dick. I eased my tongue into his mouth and I instantly identified a new ingredient mixed in with Peter's usual flavor. With a bit of a shock, I realized the new ingredient was me. I considered whether I should have been disgusted by tasting my own cum, but in reality I found it a fuckin' turn on, one that went all the way to my resting cock.

"Jesus, Peter, I thought you said you'd never done that before," I panted when we broke away, my breathing still not quite back to normal. He had told me that Aro broke up with him when he had refused to give him head.

"I haven't," he confirmed, "but I've done some research. The wonders of the internet, you know? Did my studying pay off? Was it as good as you made it sound?"

"Fuck, yes!" I responded enthusiastically. "Good doesn't even begin to describe it. It was mind-blowing. Either you're a good student or you have a natural talent."

"Mm," he sighed and turned to lay on his back, folding his arms behind his head, "I really enjoyed it too. I wasn't sure I would, you know?" he turned his head slightly to look at me. "But damn, those noises you were making, Babe! You were so fucking sexy I nearly came myself."

I rolled onto my side and propped my head on my right arm as I reached over to him with my left hand and rubbed his hard cock through the fabric of his jeans and boxers. He closed his eyes and his hips rotated beneath my hand.

"Well, Sweetness," I drawled, "Nearly is not really good enough, now, is it? Would you let me help with that little problem?"

He opened his eyes and considered me carefully. "Jasper, you don't have to . . ."

"Shhh," I said as I rolled over him and pressed small kisses all over his handsome face. "I know I don't have to. I want to. Though," I paused, suddenly a bit insecure, "I've never done this before and I haven't been studying like you."

He smiled, and I couldn't help covering his left cheek with my lips, my tongue flicking against his dimple. He let out a short laugh, almost a giggle. It was fuckin' adorable. I flicked my tongue out again, making him laugh again, longer this time.

"Babe, clearly you already know how to make me feel good with your mouth and tongue." He said through the laughter. "Just keep doing what you're doing and switch locations."

Needing no further encouragement I slid down his body, covering him with my mouth and tongue all along the way. I slipped off his jeans and boxers and pressed my face into his groin, inhaling deeply, filling my nose and lungs with his musky scent. One more deep breath and I moved my lips to his cock, grateful that it wasn't quite as large as mine.

I quickly learned exactly what Peter was talking about when he said he enjoyed giving me head. He was as expressive as I'd been, if not more, and hearing him verbalize his enjoyment both thrilled me and gave me a feeling of power. I watched his face as he came, and it was one of the most erotic things I'd ever seen, making me instantly hard and ready to go again. And go again we did, and again, until it was late enough for us to start worrying about my dad coming back home. We got dressed, but continued to lie on my bed, side by side, thoroughly fuckin' exhausted and loving it.

"I hope we get to do that some more before I have to leave town," I said, my hand sneaking beneath his t-shirt to twine through his chest hair and tug gently.

"Me too, Babe. Might as well get as much practice as we can."

I felt another stab of envy, knowing he was just practicing with me to perfect his technique for other boys he'd be meeting soon, where I had at least one more year of mandatory celibacy to look forward to. I sighed and chased the thoughts from my head. There was no point in dwelling on things I couldn't change.

Peter and I spent the rest of my time in New York doing as much as we could with the little private time we had. It was the best fuckin' summer of my life and the first time I actually considered asking my parents to change custody arrangements to let me live with my dad. Then Edward called.

That summer our e-mails and calls had been infrequent and short. He never wanted to talk about what was happening in Forks and after the first few times telling him about Peter and the various events we went to I got the feeling that he didn't want to hear about what I was doing either. So when he called that night in late August, not long after I had called him last, I was actually surprised.

I could tell by the way he was slurring his words that he was drunk off his ass, and probably didn't know half the shit he was saying, but when he told me how much he missed having me around, how much he wanted his best friend back, I knew I wouldn't be able to stay away. And when he told me he suspected I'd want to stay in New York city he sounded so desolate, I had to deny it. I promised him that I would be back as planned, and after we hung up I admitted to myself that I really had no other option. There was no way I could miss out on my last year with Edward.

Of course, had I known then what I would be coming back to, I might have made another choice. But there was no way to go back in time.

"Refill on your coffee, hun?" The waitress's voice broke into my thoughts.

"Sure," I replied automatically, sliding my mug over and watching her fill it with hot, dark liquid from the glass carafe. I added more cream and sugar and stirred everything together as she refilled Edward's mug. I noticed our plates were gone, and wondered how I had missed finishing out food and the plates being taken away. I wanted to look at Edward, but I was afraid of what I might see on his face, so I kept my eyes on the swirling liquid in front of me.

Peter and I kept in touch after I returned to Forks through periodic calls and e-mails. During one of those calls we commiserated about our respective spring break situations. Peter knew exactly how much I wanted to avoid a week of watching Edward and Bella going at it like rabbits in the same house as me, possibly in the bedroom next door, with absolutely no reprieve. He had the opposite problem. His parents decided that the whole family was going to Disneyworld for spring break and would not even consider leaving Peter at home or allowing him to go on one of the trips being organized by his various school friends. That's when the idea first occurred to me. We could solve both of our problems if Peter simply came to Forks for his spring break. I wouldn't be able to leave with a guest to host and he wouldn't be stuck with his family. Peter thought it was a great idea and we immediately secured permission from our parents. My mom and Jerry were quite surprised that I preferred to stay in Forks over going to Florida with Edward and our other friends, but since no financial commitments had been made yet, and they had never been thrilled with the idea of a bunch of kids in Florida without adult supervision, their questions were easily satisfied.

It took me two weeks to work up the courage to tell Edward about the change in my plans. I had fully expected him to be pissed, so I decided to tell him on the way home from school, with Bella in the car, hoping she would be so glad to be rid of me for a week she'd help keep him calm and provide some perspective. I should have known better than to rely on that cunt for anything. She was entirely too interested in destroying my friendship with Edward permanently to point out the obvious advantages of me staying behind.

Edward was livid. He nearly shook with rage as he processed what I told him.

"We've been planning this damn trip for two years, you motherfucker," he railed, "and now, all of a sudden, you decide to bail and play host to some fucking stranger you barely know? I was counting on you being there, asshole! You fucking ingrate. How the fuck could you choose this nobody over friends you've had for years?"

"Come on, Edward," I tried to calm him, "Everyone else will be there. I would have been the ninth wheel anyway. This way you guys don't have to worry about me at all. You can just concentrate on each other. Right, Bella?" At that point I still hadn't realized what the malicious bitch had in mind.

"Wrong, Jasper," she lied through her teeth. "We were looking forward to a spring break with all our friends, including you, and I think it's fucking disloyal of you to back out now just so you can spend the week alone with your New York buddy." The look she shot me over her shoulder was pure venom.

I had to stifle my gasp. Her implication was so damn obvious, I actually hoped Edward was too furious to notice.

"For fuck's sake, I'm just helping out a friend!" I yelled, frustrated and terrified. "It has nothing to do with loyalty. You two are gonna be so busy suckin' and fuckin' all week you're not gonna notice anyone around you anyway, so what's the big fuckin' deal?"

Bella made a good show of pretending to be offended at what I said.

"Edward," she whined, "are you gonna let him talk about me like that?"

Edward abruptly pulled over to the shoulder, stopped the car, got out and hauled me out of the back seat. He pushed me against the car, one hand twisted up in my shirt at my neck, the other pulled back and tightened into a fist, ready to strike. I managed not to flinch, staring straight into his green eyes. His face was contorted with rage, nostrils flared. His fist came forward a few inches, then stopped. A few moments later he used the other hand to pull me towards him by my shirt so that our noses were almost touching.

"Don't you ever fucking talk about what Bella and I do," he threatened, "It's none of your goddamn business." He shoved me aside hard. I lost my balance and fell to the ground.

Bella, who had gotten out of the car to watch the show, was clearly disappointed. "That's it? That's all he gets for making me sound like your fucking whore?"

Edward didn't look at her as he walked back to get in behind the wheel. "Shut the hell up, Bella," he said "It's not like it was a lie."

She huffed in her fury but knew there was nothing she could do, so she got back into the car. I half expected them to peel away, but they didn't, so I slowly pulled myself up and reached into the back seat for my bag. I took it out and shut the car door, fully intending to walk the rest of the way home. Seeing what I was doing, Edward rolled down the window.

"Get the fuck back in, Jasper, or so help me I'll drag you back."

I took a few moments to consider my options, but looking at Edward I knew he meant what he said, so I sighed and returned to the back seat. No one said anything else for the rest of the drive home. And for another two weeks Edward didn't speak directly to me except to order me around. Then, slowly, things got back to something resembling normal, thought deep down inside I knew it wasn't the same. I never realized how much my going on this trip had meant to him, and if it wasn't for the fact that by this time Peter had already bought his non-refundable plane ticket, I might have changed my mind. As it was, I had to live with the knowledge that my decision permanently altered our already deteriorating friendship, and not for the better.

I picked Peter up at Sea-Tac airport the morning after Edward and the gang left for Florida. Peter knew all about the situation and did his best to help me feel better. He had dated a couple of guys through the year, but wasn't seeing anyone just then, so the whole week, after my parents left for work, we'd start off our days exercising our cocks and lips. Being with him felt comfortable, and I desperately needed comfort.

I spent some of the money I had saved for the Florida trip on a weekly car rental for my mom so I could borrow her car. Peter and I used it to drive to Port Angeles and Seattle. I did more tourist shit that week than I had since moving to Washington, and I actually enjoyed it. Compared to Edward, being with Peter was easy. He was always so happy and mellow, and I didn't have to hide anything from him. The whole week was like a breath of fresh air.

Peter's last night in Forks was the day everyone was due to return from Florida. I was nervous. Trying to avoid a chance run-in with Edward, I asked Peter to a movie in Port Angeles, figuring Edward would have been too tired to venture out of Forks on his first evening back. As we walked out of the theater, however, he was there, leaning against my mother's car, wearing a leather jacket like some modern fuckin' version of James Dean. Seeing him like that after a week apart nearly made me hard, even after the farewell hand job Peter had given me in the theater.

"Fuck," I swore under my breath, causing Peter to look over at the car.

"It's all right, Babe. It'll be fine," he murmured reassuringly as we walked to the car. I wished I could believe him, but I recognized the look on Edward's face and knew he was looking for trouble.

"Well, hey, there, Jasper. Did you two have a nice date?" Edward sneered.

"The movie was fine," I replied, ignoring the implication. "How was Florida?"

"Hot and sticky," he responded, and I hoped my wince wasn't too obvious as I caught his innuendo. "I stopped by your house figuring you'd want to hear all about it, but your mother told me you were here with your... guest. So I thought I'd drive out to meet the infamous Peter who managed to lure you away from a vacation with your best friends."

I had no idea how to handle this. Edward was spoiling for a fight and that was the last thing I wanted to happen on Peter's last night here. But I also had no clue how to avoid it. Lost in thought as I was, Peter reacted before I could.

"Hey," he said, walking towards Edward with his hand stretched out for a handshake. "I'm Peter Christopoulos. You must be Edward. Jasper's told me so much about you."

Edward looked at Peter's hand, but didn't shake it.

"Christopoulos." He said slowly, like it was a tongue twister. "That's a fuckin' queer name."

"It's Greek," I said quickly, hoping Peter wasn't too offended.

"Greek, huh?" Edward said, appraising Peter head to toe with his eyes. "Yeah, that fits. I heard a good joke once. You know why Greek boys never move out of their parents' house?"

Peter, who had not taken his eyes off Edward, suddenly looked more serious than I had ever seen him and pulled himself up to his full height. He was still shorter than Edward and didn't even come close to Edward in terms of muscle mass, but he looked ready for anything.

"Because they don't want to leave their brother's behind," he replied. "Haven't heard that one in a while. Got anything more original than a Greek gay joke, Edward?"

Fuck. I hadn't explained well enough to Peter how much Edward hated to be challenged, especially when he was in this kind of mood. I looked at Edward and saw the surprise in his eyes. Clearly he had not been prepared for the comeback. But he recovered quickly.

"Who needs to be original when a classic works so well?" he sneered. "Isn't that a Greek thing? The classics? And speaking of classics, what fucking cinematic masterpiece did you drag Jasper to? That Little Ashes flick seems right up your... alley, doesn't it?"

"Give it a rest, Edward." I said.

He turned his withering look to me.

"How gallant of you, Jasper, stepping in to protect the weak."

"Unlike some people, Jasper has manners," Peter said. "But I don't need anyone to protect me. I've dealt with xenophobes like you before."

"Xenophobes? That's a pretty big word for a little fag."

This was getting out of hand. I knew I needed to say something, and yet I couldn't. With the accusations Edward was making, if I stepped up to defend Peter now, I might as well whip out a giant rainbow flag to wrap around myself for the rest of my time in Forks. I felt like a complete pussy, but I was paralyzed. Peter looked at me with understanding and something that looked an awful lot like pity.

"You know, Edward," Peter's voice was icy, "From what Jasper's told me I think we should both be glad that he sees people for who they are, not who they fuck. And I don't discuss with strangers what or who I do in bed. Especially self-denying fuckers like you, who try to bury their own frustrations by belittling others. Out of respect for Jasper, I won't spell out what I really think of you, but right now I have no fucking idea why Jasper even associates with you. Still, don't worry, I'm not here to raid your meat locker."

My head snapped up in alarm. I saw Edward launch himself off my mother's car at Peter, and I knew I couldn't stay on the sidelines. I may have been a coward when it came to his words, but there was no way I was going to allow Edward to attack Peter physically. I threw myself at him, my chest colliding with his shoulder enough to send us both tumbling to the ground. My left arm hit the pavement first and I felt an amazing amount of pain before my head hit a concrete wheel stop and everything went black.

I opened my eyes in time to see Edward slipping off his T-shirt.

"What's going on?" I asked, disoriented.

"Jasper!" Peter's face floated into my line of vision. "How do you feel? Do you know what day it is?"

I scrunched up my face as I thought before mumbling out the date. By the relief on Peter's face I guessed it was the right one.

"What the hell happened?" I asked as I tried to push myself up. The pain made my head spin and I fell back again, though this time Edward caught my head to cushion the fall.

"Stay down and don't move." he growled as he reached over to press the T-shirt to the side of my head. "The ambulance will be here soon."

"I don't need an ambulance," I protested. Everything was starting to come back. I realized I must have hit my head when I fell.

"You head is bleeding like a mother and you passed out." Peter said. "You need to go to the hospital to get checked out. I called your parents and they'll meet us there."

I groaned. Hospitals meant questions and explanations. Explanations I was not prepared to give. But I felt the sticky liquid on my face and neck and I smelled the unmistakable scent of fresh blood. And my entire left arm was absolutely killing me. They were right. I needed to get checked out. But fuck if I was going to tell anyone what really happened.

"I tripped and fell." I said as forcefully as I could.

"What?" Peter sounded confused.

"I fuckin' tripped and fell. If anyone asks, that's what happened. All right?"

Peter looked at Edward in disgust.

"Sure. You tripped and fell," he said.

The story was an easy sell because it was pretty much the truth. It turned out I had a fractured wrist, dislocated shoulder and needed six stitches for the cut on my head. I knew that Edward hadn't intended for me to get hurt, but I was sure he intended to hurt Peter, and in my mind there was little difference. I'd never been so pissed off with him in my life, and part of me knew I should have ended the friendship right then and there. But, of course, the thought of giving up Edward completely was unbearable, so the best I could do was to refuse his efforts to get together for a while.

Aware of my anger, Edward pushed pretty hard to get me to ease up. I doubt anyone else noticed, and I was probably imagining it myself, but there seemed to be an air of desperation in his efforts. He kept suggesting different shit for us to do after school or on the weekends, but I would beg off, claiming I was too tired or in too much pain. Sometimes I wondered what would have happened if I'd said yes, since doing all those things with me would have seriously interfered with Edward's time with Bella. But I supposed once I gave in, the invitations would stop, which is pretty much exactly what eventually happened.

Through it all, both publicly and privately, we stuck to the 'tripped and fell' story and, until today, the closest Edward came to an apology was when he told Bella to shut the fuck up after she tried to make fun of my clumsiness. Neither one of us ever mentioned Peter. It was like the whole parking lot conversation never took place.

As my injuries healed, I managed to lock away my anger. Though I had no proof, I figured Bella stirred up Edward's homophobia while they were in Florida, and probably encouraged him to meet us in Port Angeles that night. The shit he said to Peter was pretty routine for him – he never minced words with people he disliked. Even the violence wasn't surprising – it's not like I hadn't seen him fight others before, though usually the catalyst was more serious than just someone talking back. So while I was pissed that he directed all that against someone I knew, it wasn't totally unexpected or unprecedented. What I was really pissed about was how much it hurt to have confirmation of how he would react if he ever found out I was gay. There was no doubt about it now – Edward would not tolerate my lifestyle.

I took a swig of coffee, once again thankful that it was only a few weeks 'till graduation. After that I would spend the summer with my dad and then Edward and I would be off to different schools and, I rapped my knuckles once on the table for luck, my friendship with Edward would come to a natural end. Then I could finally be myself and just hold on to my memories of this nearly fuckin' perfect crush.

"I should have never gone to Port Angeles that night," he suddenly said "I shouldn't have put you in that position."

Holy fuck! What the hell was happening? The Edward I knew would never say something like this. He would never admit he was wrong. I looked up to see his face, but he was staring down into his coffee and I couldn't get a good read.

"You know I would never intentionally hurt you. It's just when you decided to back out of the trip something snapped and . . ."

"Stop!" I commanded. I couldn't hear this. He was apologizing for the wrong thing and I couldn't take it. Couldn't accept it. "It's over, Edward. It's done and it can't be undone. We've moved past it. I don't wanna talk about that anymore."

He looked up at me hopefully and I wondered if he thought I had accepted his apology. It didn't matter either way. Life would go on the same no matter what he or I thought.

We stayed silent for a while. He was fidgeting, as uncomfortable as I've ever seen him. He had a napkin in his hands that he was slowly shredding into tiny bits and pieces. He clearly wanted to tell me something, but I knew better than to try to pry it out of him. I leaned back and looked up, counting the ceiling tiles for lack of anything better to do.

"I'm not going to Stanford in the fall," he finally said.

I looked at him in shock. For as long as I've known him there was never even a sliver of doubt that Edward would go to Stanford after high school.

"Why not? You've always wanted to go to Stanford."

Edward shook his head.

"My father always wanted me to go to Stanford and I went along with it because I didn't really want to go anywhere else. But now I don't want to go to California."

"So what are you gonna do?" I almost hated to ask, fear eating at my insides but curiosity getting the better of me.

"I'm gonna go to UW."

"What? Why?" My voice sounded as panicked as I felt. This was not the fuckin' plan. He was changing the rules of the game and it wasn't fuckin' fair. Damn it, if I had ever even considered the possibility of his coming to UW, I would have gone to a school out east. Fuck! All my expectations of finally standing on my own out of the circle of his influence, all my dreams of finally coming out, all my hopes of finally finding someone special to be with were draining away like dirty dishwater.

"Bella can't afford to go to California so she's staying in Forks to save up money. It'll be easier to see her if I'm in Seattle. Plus, you'll be at UW. I was thinking we'd be roommates."

I stared down at the table, unable to look at him, feeling like a giant weight had just been draped over my back. So this whole day, the fuckin' apology, this was all designed to work up to this. To get me to be his damn roommate. And what would that get me? Nights of listening to him bangin' Bella and days of enduring her evil glares and snide comments. If I was lucky, maybe they'd spend some weekends here in Forks without demanding that I come along. And then what? I'd secretly find some other closeted queer to exchange hand jobs or blow jobs with while Edward was away? If I was lucky?

Fuck! I cursed fate, karma, and every fuckin' god I could think of for placing me in this situation. What the hell did I ever do to anyone to deserve this fucked up life?

The worst thing was, I was no better equipped to say no to him now than I had ever been. What the fuck was I supposed to do?

"Jasper?" he asked, not satisfied with my silence.

I finished my coffee, grabbed the check and got up to go to the register, all without saying a word. I couldn't say no, but I was damned if I was going to agree. The only option was to say nothing, and I hung onto that like the tenuous lifeline that it was.