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Chapter 7: Commencement -- Part 1
The flight from New York to Seattle was long. Not as long as the flight to Europe, but long enough to be annoying when the single fuckin' movie being shown was of absolutely no interest. I had the misfortune of being squished into an economy seat without nearly enough room for my long legs, between the partially blocked window and a large woman who clearly could have used some help from Jenny Craig. At least she wasn't chatty. Thank God for small fuckin' favors.
I could have dug out my laptop from my carry-on bag, but decided that trying to get to the overhead bin wouldn't be worth the effort. So instead I sat there, feeling like a fuckin' sardine, getting lost in my thoughts.
I was heading towards a new beginning. When the plane landed I wouldn't be going back to Forks. Mom and Jerry would be waiting for me with my sister, having had already brought up to the apartment the stuff I'd packed before I left for New York. The four of us would go out to lunch and then we'd go out furniture shopping to but some basics: a bed, desk, chair & nightstand for my room, plus a dinette set that would be my contribution to the common room. After everything was purchased and delivered to the apartment, my family would go back to Forks and I would start the next phase of my life alone.
Well, not entirely alone. Edward would be there, of course, in the apartment I'd agreed to share with him. Much as I feared and dreaded the living arrangements, some part of me was looking forward to seeing Edward again and being able to spend more time with him. Unlike last summer, when Peter had occupied all of my time, I actually missed Edward a lot. It was stupid, I knew, since the things I missed the most were ones I could never have again, like the feeling of his cock in my hand, his fist wrapped around my hard shaft, and the searing heat of his lips. I knew the fact that I ever knew what these things felt like was an anomaly, never to be repeated, and yet I couldn't stop thinking about them, about him: his beautiful green eyes, his gorgeous face, his crooked smile, his unruly bronze hair, his sexy baritone . . .
As usual, thoughts of Edward made all my blood rush directly to my cock, and I had to quickly cover up with the blanket provided earlier by the flight attendant. The last thing I needed was for the damn woman next to me to notice my boner and, God forbid, think that she fuckin' inspired it.
I wondered what seeing Edward again would be like. We'd exchanged e-mails throughout the summer, as well as few phone calls, but with me being on another continent it just wasn't as easy. When we talked he always said he was fine and talked about all the stuff he'd been doing, but he always sounded just a little off, like he was trying too fuckin' hard to convince me or himself that he meant what he said. About the only time he sounded right was when we talked about college and moving into our place. Who the hell ever knew Edward could be so damn domestic? He wanted to plan everything. We agreed that his parents would spring for the couch, recliners and sofa table and he'd bring his over-elaborate entertainment system. My parents would take care of the dinette furniture and the kitchen stuff. Fortunately, being two guys, we didn't need anything too elaborate, but my mom vetoed the idea of a bumper pool or poker table that could double up as dining surface.
Edward had driven up to Seattle several times and scoped out our neighborhood, checking out the available food and entertainment options. Always fuckin' thorough when it came to filling his belly, he even made a point of trying all the different pizza joints in the area so that by the time we got there we'd have a favorite and a backup. He found a couple of bars – one classy and the other more of a neighborhood joint – better as a guy hangout. Edward had a connection for fake IDs and he assured me that he already procured several for us, just in case any of them got confiscated during what he assured me would be our frequent visits to the local watering holes.
He also found some cafes and located book and music stores for me, as well as grocery, convenience and liquor stores, making sure that we knew where to obtain life's basic necessities. He even fuckin' found a dry cleaner that picked up and delivered laundry. I would have told him not to go through all the trouble – that there'd be plenty of time to do it all once we arrived, but I got the feeling those recognizance trips were his more enjoyable summer activities. Knowing how miserable he had been right before I left for vacation and how morose he sounded from time to time on the phone and in his e-mails, I would support just about any activity that got him out of his funk.
That last week in Forks before graduation had been hard. Although he didn't say anything and, for the most part, he did a great job of hiding it, I saw brief but consistent glimpses of the depression I first spotted the night of his party. I did my best to help, to try to lift his spirits, but my time was limited with all the stuff I had to do before graduation. I was the valedictorian of our class, so I had to write a damn speech that wouldn't be a total embarrassment to my superintendent step-father and my professional writer father. I also had to pack my shit for the summer and all my stuff for college, since I wouldn't have a chance to do it when I came back from my dad's. Then, when my father and grandparents arrived for graduation, I had to keep them company. None of this left a lot of time to spend with my best friend.
Even on graduation day we only saw each other briefly before the ceremony, and then briefly again after, to exchange a high five and shoot the shit a little before we left to celebrate with our respective families. I knew Edward would go to the huge graduation party at Tyler's house, but my dad and I had an early flight to catch the following day, so I elected to sleep instead. In retrospect that may have been a bad decision, but even if I had gone to the party, with all the other people there I doubt I could have helped Edward in any way.
Fortunately, it turned out not to matter. As the end of the summer approached, I sensed Edward's darker mood lifting, and I was relatively sure I would find him in good spirits when I finally got to the apartment.
I would be a fuckin' liar if I didn't admit I had some fears about what it would be like to see him again after that last encounter at his house. Edward and I never talked about that Saturday night, which frustrated me to no end. I just couldn't stop thinking about the kiss, and couldn't make a damn lick of sense of it. Desperate for some insight as to what happened, I confessed everything to Peter when I got to New York. He listened to my story about Bella's cheating and what happened when Edward came over, and then everything that happened afterwards, and he shook his head in disbelief.
"You know, for a fairly smart, intuitive and sensitive guy, " he said, "You can be pretty damn dense."
"What the fuck are you talking about, Peter?" I asked, annoyed to be treated like some dim-wit who doesn't have a clue.
"Shit, I only met him once for about 20 minutes and I could see plain as day that he was totally into you. How you've managed to ignore all the signs is totally beyond me."
"Into me?" I laughed, "Edward is as straight as they get. He'd easily fuck 10 different girls a day if he could."
Peter sighed.
"You know how you told Edward that fucking Bella up the ass didn't make him queer? Well fucking pussy doesn't make his straight, either. I have no doubt he probably always thought he was straight, probably still does and maybe always will, but I told you before, I have great gaydar, and with all the shit that went down in the last month I'm even more sure than I was before. He wants you, Jasper, and he wants you bad. I don't give a fuck what he tries to tell you and himself, straight guys do not kiss and jack off other straight guys. And I don't for one second believe that either one of you is stupid enough to fall for that either."
"So what should I do?" I asked. I didn't really believe the things Peter was telling me, but he had sparked a flicker of hope.
He took my hand and looked straight into my eyes.
"Babe, you know I only want the best for you, right?"
I nodded. He didn't need to ask that. I trusted him completely.
"Then please listen to me on this and run like hell in the opposite direction. Get yourself as far as humanly possible from him."
I blanched and pulled my arm away in anger. What the fuck? He knew! He knew how much I loved Edward. He was telling me that there was a chance that Edward could love me back and he was telling me to run? Why? I'd never been anything but encouraging of all his relationships. I was fuckin' ecstatic that he and Marcus found each other. Why couldn't he do the same for me?
"Jasper," he said quietly, "I'm not trying to hurt you. I'm trying to spare you pain. Guys like him rarely come out of the closet. He might come out to you, keep you on the side while he leads his normal straight lifestyle, but he'll never be all yours. You know how horrible you felt when he was with Bella? It will be 10 times worse if he's married with a family."
"No," I said. "It wouldn't be worse. Because when he was with Bella he wasn't with me. I wasn't sharing, I was observing. If I had been sharing, maybe . . ."
"It would have been worse." Peter repeated. "There's no maybe about it. It would have twisted you up inside every time you saw them touch each other. And there's another reason why I said what I said. Even if he was ready to come out tomorrow and drag you out of the closet with him, I still would tell you to run. Because even though he clearly wants you, I'm not sure he's capable of loving anyone other than himself. He's a selfish prick who thinks the universe revolves around him. And you fucking deserve better than that. You deserve to find someone who will worship you as much as you worship him, will try his best to make you happy, not just himself."
I shook my head vehemently. "You don't know him like I do," I said. "He does things to make me happy."
Peter scoffed. "What? He lets you choose a movie or a pizza toping every once in a while? Throws you a bone? Come on!"
The things he said rang too true, but I couldn't let him know it.
"You know what, Peter? Fuck you! You don't know everything. Not everything in life is perfect, nor does it have to be for me to be happy. I know Edward and all his flaws and I love him anyway. If he was actually willing to give me any part of himself I would be fuckin' thrilled. And if you can't appreciate that and hope for the best for me, then you're no fuckin' friend."
I stood up and walked away from him. He followed me and placed a hand on my shoulder.
"Go away. I don't wanna talk to you anymore," I said petulantly. "It must be so easy for you to preach this shit to me now that you have a fuckin' perfect relationship with your perfect gay boyfriend. Well some of us are not that lucky and we have to take what we can get, and if you can't or don't want to understand that then leave me the fuck alone."
"Jesus, Jasper, it's not that I don't understand. I'm just trying to get you to see that you don't have to settle for that. You can have everything that Marcus and I have, you just have to forget about Edward and try to find someone else.
"But fine, I can see you can't be reasonable about this right now so I'll leave you to your pity party. But I am your friend and I do care about you. And whatever you decide, I'll always be here for you. No matter what. Even if I have to help you pick up a thousand pieces of your fucking broken heart and help you put it all together again."
I shrugged his hand off my shoulder and didn't respond. I was so pissed. How could he do that to me? Dangle this carrot right in front of me and then dip it in a bucket of shit before handing it over. In that moment I'd resolved not to see Peter any more that summer. With friends like him, I'd be better off hanging out all summer alone.
I probably would not have stuck to that resolution, but the next week my father announced that his publisher was sending him on a trip to Europe to promote his latest book, and he wanted to take me with him so I could have some cultural exposure before heading off to college. Dad's publisher pulled some strings to get me a passport quickly, and in a few days we were flying to London.
Once we arrived, my father was immediately swept up in a flurry of book related activities – meetings with his publisher, receptions, readings, promotional interviews and a whole bunch of other stuff that I really didn't care about. The only thing that interested me was an interview he did on a morning talk show, and only because while he was being interviewed I was given a behind the scenes tour of the studio by Greg, an intern only slightly older than me who was very eager to demonstrate his knowledge of the ins and outs of TV production. We got along well and when he found out that I didn't know anyone my age in London he invited me to meet him and his friends for a drink at their favorite pub that night. Having nothing better to do I agreed, though I made sure to stay cool, so I didn't appear desperate for companionship.
And, in fact, as far as big cities which one has to explore alone went, London was awesome! I found so many things I wanted to do, there simply wasn't a way to fit everything in. Between the traditional tourist sightseeing, the museums, the theater and the walking tours I'd discovered through a pamphlet I found in the lobby of my hotel, I barely saw my dad or the inside of our hotel room.
The evening of my dad's TV interview I arrived at the designated tube stop with a few minutes to spare and waited for Greg, who appeared not long after me. We walked the few blocks to the pub, chatting about how I had occupied my time since my arrival.
It was all very superficially friendly, though there was something in Greg's demeanor that was just a little bit off. He tried to come off as nonchalant, but there was a nervous energy around the edges that he couldn't quite hide, especially when we walked into a pub and he led the way to a table where his friends were holding a couple of spots open for us.
"Hey guys, this is Jasper. He's from New York visiting London for a couple of weeks with his father. We met when his dad was getting interviewed on the show, and I found he didn't know anyone here, so I thought he might appreciate a night out with the boys. Jasper, this is Vince, Dré, and Rick."
I turned to shake each guy's hand. Vince had a round face, dark hair and eyes and a large frame with overdeveloped muscles – a body type that seemed to fit his name. Dré was the exact opposite. Average height and slightly built, his facial features were long, narrow and angular, his hair was pale blond, almost white, and his eyes were a light steely grey.
When I got to the third guy, though, the first two were instantly forgotten. Once I saw Rick, it was impossible to concentrate on anyone else. To say he was one of the most fuckin' attractive guys I have ever seen would be an understatement. He had darkish dirty blond hair that was perfectly styled and gorgeous eyes that fell somewhere between blue and gray in color. His face was so perfect it looked like some freakishly talented sculptor chiseled it to look good from every angle, but especially in profile. I felt a tightening in my pants before his hand even touched mine, and as his warm skin pressed against mine I was damn grateful that the pub table hid what was going on below my waist from the other guys. There was something familiar about him, though I knew I'd never met him before and I couldn't quite think of where the familiarity would have come from, except maybe someone famous whose name and face escaped me. But regardless of the source, I found myself staring at him, completely unable to turn away, until the sound of a throat being cleared finally pulled me out of my trance.
I looked at Greg, whose eyes were downcast as he muttered a quick "Fuck! It figures," under his breath. I didn't know what he was referring too, but when I scanned the faces of his friends, all three sported knowing smirks, which were oddly disconcerting.
"I said I'm getting another round. What are you drinking?" Vince was looking at me expectedly.
"Um, ESB," I muttered quickly, reaching for my wallet and handing him a few notes. My father made sure I had plenty of cash to enjoy myself on this trip and I thought I might as well use some of it as a good will gesture with my new British friends. "This round's on me."
"Thanks," Vince said taking the bills without protest, "Come on, Dré, give me a hand."
The smaller boy looked put out to be asked to help with a task as menial as fetching beer, but after a second look from Vince he slid off the stool and followed him to the bar. To keep myself from staring at Rick again, I looked around the pub, for the first time noticing that the clientele was all male. Even I could tell that some were decidedly not heterosexual. In fact, as I looked more closely, it seemed that if any of the guys were heterosexual, they were here by mistake. I finally experienced that epiphany that I should have fuckin' had when I first walked in. I looked to Greg, his eyes still downcast, and I realized that he hadn't just asked me here because he thought a lonely American kid might appreciate hanging out with the locals for the night. Damn! Peter was right. I was a fuckin' dim-wit when it came to all this stuff.
Quickly I re-assessed Greg in light of my newfound appreciation of the situation. He'd been pleasant enough earlier but certainly nothing about him stood out. Physically he wasn't unattractive, but totally not my type. I enjoyed talking with him about TV production, but there was nothing else to pull me in. Had I realized why he had suggested that I join him and his friends this evening, I would have definitely declined. So now I had to figure out a way to get out of this situation gracefully. And I had to stop thinking about the absolutely fuck hot dirty blond sitting next to me. Not that he was going to make it easy for me.
"So," Rick said, leaning over to me so that I could hear him about the din of the pub, "an American Yankee in London, huh. First time?" his warm breath fluttered pleasantly over my ear as he spoke, his voice rich like velvet and so fuckin' sexy with that damned British accent!
"Um, yeah." Nice! Could I be any more fuckin' inarticulate?
"So are you enjoying your visit?" I knew I was probably imagining it, but his lips were so close to my ear I could almost feel them on my skin, which did nothing to quell my raging hard-on. I leaned away from him a bit to give myself a little room to cool off.
"Sure," I said, directing my response to the whole table, "I mean, it's London. There's so much to do."
Vince and Dré came back with the beers. After they set down the glasses and took their seats, I watched Vince place his hand on Dré's thigh, lean over and whisper something in his ear. Dré's face lit up with a smile and he suddenly looked angelically beautiful. He turned his face to whisper something to Vince, his lips flitting across Vince's cheek in the process. I looked away, unsure on what the right reaction was to this obvious public display of homosexual affection, only to see Rick watching me from beneath his lashes as he drank his beer. I blushed furiously and reached for my own brew, pretending to be completely absorbed in the glass filled with amber liquid.
"So what have you done with your time so far?" Rick asked, pulling me back into the conversation. I briefly rattled off my various activities, growing increasingly annoyed by the condescending looking smirk that appeared on his face as I spoke. It was my first time out of the fuckin' United States and I wanted to take full advantage of it. I didn't care if I seemed like every other damn tourist in the process. Finally, I'd had enough of the smirking and stopped.
"I know it all must seem cliché to you, but I'm actually having a great fuckin' time," I said, sounding a bit too resentful. I looked at Greg, who flashed me a guilty smile.
"Don't be offended, Jasper, you're cool. It's just that it's always the same with you Yanks – whenever we meet someone from the states it's always like a tourist marathon. You all inhale London. You never stop to appreciate the details."
"Well, tonight is a step in the right direction, isn’t it? I mean, here he is, slowing down, mixing with the natives, taking in the local flavor," Rick said. Dré and Vince snickered again and I blushed once more. I didn't appreciate being the butt of the jokes, had just about had enough of the natives, and hated the way Greg had blindsided me this evening.
"Right. Well, I've actually got another busy day planned for tomorrow, so I'd better get going. It was nice meeting you all. Thanks for the invite, Greg."
I started to get up, but was stopped by Rick's strong hand placed restrainingly on my arm.
"Don't get offended, Jasper. It's nothing personal. We just tend to do things slower here than you do in America. You New Yorkers are just too fast."
I laughed.
"My dad lives in New York and I spend my summers with him, but I actually live in a small town in Washington state and, believe me, my life is normally as slow as molasses. I guess this is my way of making up for lost time, trying to cram in as much as I can before I go back to start school in Seattle this fall."
We started talking again, this time more about ourselves, and soon enough I was truly enjoying myself. I found the guys had all gone to the same public school, which apparently had the opposite meaning in England, and continued to keep in touch after graduation, getting together once or twice a week to catch up. After a while I was content to sit back and listen to them go through their normal routine, not wanting to interfere with their socializing. It was a different evening than I'd anticipated, but I was having a good time.
As time passed, though, and we went through a few more rounds of beer, I started feeling the effects of the alcohol and wondered if it wasn't time for me to head back to the hotel while I was still sober enough to find my way home. I tried to be inconspicuous as I slipped off the stool but, once again, Rick restrained me with his hand.
"Hey, guys, we're being rude and clearly boring the shit out of Jasper. How about we show him a bit of the London night life? Anyone up for dancing?"
"Hell yeah, now you're talking," Vince said enthusiastically. He and Dré had spent most of the night exchanging small gestures of affection and I could tell they were eager to take the physical contact even further before they took it home.
"Dancing, Rick? Isn't it a little soon for you?" Greg sounded resentful.
Rick shrugged and I could see anger bubbling up beneath his seemingly cool exterior.
"He's made his decision, so it's pretty clear I need to move on."
"Shut it, Greg," Dré interjected before Greg could formulate a reply, "It's none of our business and we weren't going to take sides. If you've changed your mind, then you shouldn't have come."
Greg looked down at the table again, looking very unhappy. I was starting to understand the undercurrent of the discussion, maybe even the evening, and I didn't like how I fit in. Rick clearly had just broken off a serious relationship and was ready to play the field again, apparently with me. Greg was angry that Rick was chasing me, either because Greg wanted me for himself or, more likely, because he had specifically invited me to make Rick jealous, and the plan backfired. I wasn't sure which pissing match these two were getting into, but I sure as hell wasn't eager to get caught in the cross stream.
"Listen, guys, I've had a busy week, so I think I'll pass tonight and just go back to my hotel. Thanks for the invite, anyway."
"Come on, Jasper. You can't be serious," Rick said. "You're too fucking young to go home at this hour on a Friday night. All the stuff you planned for tomorrow is still going to be there if you sleep in a couple of hours. Come to the club with us. I bet you haven't seen anything like it in America."
And that was another problem. I'd never been clubbing anywhere, and I hated to look even more like a fish out of water with these guys, especially Rick.
"I'm really not much of a dancer," I tried again, weakly.
"Neither is Greg," Rick sniggered. "Doesn't stop him from going."
"Piss off, Rick," Greg grumbled, "If he doesn't want to go he doesn't have to. Come on, Jasper, I'll get you back to your hotel."
"Um. . ." I looked at both Greg and Rick, confused. No matter what I did I would be choosing between them, and I really didn't want to give Greg the impression that I'd chosen him. Maybe it would be better to go to the club and sneak out while they were all dancing? "On second thought, Rick may be right. I mean, when in Rome, right?"
"That's the American spirit," Rick said, slapping me on the shoulder as he got up. "Let's go."
We left the pub and walked a few blocks to the club. Along the way I noticed Vince had his arm wrapped around Dré's waist while the smaller man's hand rested snugly in the back pocket of Vince's jeans. Seeing them together made me recall the few times Peter and I dared to hold hands in public and how good it felt to be open about who I was. I wondered how long it would be before I had that feeling again.
"Fuckers are in love," Rick said bitterly when he noticed the direction of my stare. "I mean, I'm happy for them and all, but I wish I didn't have to have it shoved in my face."
"Bloody hell," Greg grumbled. "Like you didn't do exactly the same shit when you were with . . ." a withering look from Rick stopped Greg short.
Tension between Greg and Rick was thick, and I could see that it went beyond me and whatever was happening tonight. I was thrilled when we got to the club, where I hoped to lose myself in the crowd and eventually slip away unnoticed.
"Come on, Jasper, let's dance," Rick said, grabbing my hand as soon as we took care of the cover charge. I would have protested, but I knew he wouldn't be able to hear me over the music, so I just followed, hoping against all odds that I wouldn't make too much of an ass of myself.
Rick found a bit of real estate on the dance floor just large enough for the two of us and began to dance. I watched him, impressed with the ease with which he moved while standing absolutely frozen in terror myself. At first he didn't notice, lost in the rhythm of the song. Soon, however, he focused back on me and frowned.
"You're not moving!" he shouted.
"I've never done this," I confessed loudly, though no one but him would have been able to hear me.
"Come on, it's not that hard. Just feel the music."
I tried, but I felt awkward and self-conscious and I was sure I didn't look much better.
Rick watched me critically. "You need to loosen up," he said.
He came up close behind me, grabbed my hips and began to move us together. The feel of his body pressed up full length right behind mine caused my cock to stiffen again. I tried to pull away, but he held me firmly to him, grinding his own erection into my ass. He took my right arm and lifted it up so that it curled up around his neck as I leaned back into his shoulder. He returned his right hand to my hip, then slid it under the edge of my t-shirt and moved it over my chest. Suddenly dancing with him like this felt like the most natural thing in the world.
"You're doing great," Rick said right next to my ear so I could hear without him having to shout. "I love holding you like this."
I arched into him, letting out a moan that I hoped only he could hear. I moved my left hand behind me, slipping it between our bodies to stroke his shaft through his jeans. He moved his left hand inside the waist of my jeans, ghosting it across my lower abdomen, his fingertips gently stroking the head of my engorged cock.
"You know, Jasper," he said into my ear, "I'm suddenly ravenous. And do you know what I have a taste for?"
I looked back at him, unable to speak. He shifted his head and kissed me, hard, the flesh of his lips first pushing against mine, then sucking in first my lower lip and then my tongue. All the while his fingertips played the head of my dick like a fuckin' instrument. I was so turned on I could barely remain upright, grateful I could lean on him for support.
"Mm," he said when he finally broke off the kiss. "You taste delicious. But what I'm really craving is a mouthful of that fabulous Yankee cock of yours."
He slipped both of his hands into my jeans and was now stroking my cock in earnest, right in the middle of the dance floor. It took all the control I had not to cream my pants right then and there. Instead of panicking and pulling his hands out, like any sane person would, I sucked in my stomach to give him better access.
"Fuck," I exhaled, barely audibly. I knew he heard me, though, when I felt the vibrations of his chuckle.
"Never before the first date," he said. "What kind of a bloke do you take me for? But I can make you feel good. Follow me."
He slipped his hands out of my pants and I mourned the loss of contact. From the corner of my eye I saw Greg watching us resentfully, but I couldn't bring myself to care. All I knew is that my cock was desperate for the relief Rick offered, and I was willing to follow him just about anywhere. I just hoped that we weren't going far.
Rick was obviously familiar with the club. Without hesitation he pulled me towards an area in the back where the walls were hung with heavy curtains. After several answered inquiries, he located an empty alcove and pulled me back behind the curtain.
"Sorry I can't be as romantic as I normally would be," he said, undoing my belt and the fastenings on my jeans, "but back here time really is of the essence."
He slid to his knees in front of me, pulling down my jeans and boxers just low enough to give him access to my rock-hard cock. He pushed me against the wall and, without further ceremony, wrapped his lips around my swollen head. I groaned at the sensation of his warm, wet, cavernous mouth surrounding my most sensitive skin. His tongue traced the underside of my head before focusing on the spot at the very tip of my head, right above the slit, his flicking tongue sending fire bolts of pleasure throughout my body. Without the supporting wall behind me, I was sure I would have collapsed.
He sucked me in deeper, swallowing almost my entire cock. His left hand was on my ass, squeezing in time with the thrusts of my hips into his willing mouth. His right hand stroked my tight balls, adding to the ratcheting tension inside me. I fisted his hair for leverage as I bucked my hips into his face faster and faster, my animalistic groans matching those coming from the adjacent alcoves. The feel of his mouth, tongue and hands on me, combined with the illicit nature of this hook up and the soundtrack provided by the other guys getting lucky just inches to either side of me helped my orgasm build faster and stronger than ever before. Sensing my readiness, Rick pulled back and sent me into orbit with just a couple of flicks of his tongue at my head, swallowing my twitching cock again as I came and drinking every drop of cum he could suck out of me. He squeezed my ass affectionately when I was done, pushing himself up again, and quickly pulling up and re-fastening my jeans and belt. He leaned hard against me and kissed me passionately, letting me taste the residue of my cum on his tongue.
"Wow, Rick, that was amazing." I said, knowing it sounded lame and didn't come nearly close enough to describe what had just happened. "Thank you."
"It was my pleasure, Jasper," he said, sounding happy. "Welcome to London."
He kissed me again and then pulled me out of the alcove and back into the club. I was still dazed, barely able to walk and feeling guilty that I did nothing to reciprocate. I was just about to say something when Rick came to a sudden halt, inertia forcing me to slam into his back. I looked around him to see what caused him to stop and saw a lean, brown haired boy with glasses, whose eyes kept darting from Rick to me, seemingly in complete shock.
"I came to see if maybe we could talk," the boy choked out. "Greg said you were here, but he didn't mention you were occupied."
Rick looked back at me apologetically and dropped my hand.
"You should have told me you were coming, H."
The other boy laughed.
"Why? So you had time to hide your new boy toy? I'm not sure I need to be that accommodating. Anyway, just forget it. I shouldn't have come."
He turned around and walked away, quickly blending into the dance floor crowd.
"Fucking Greg, I'm gonna kill him," Rick hissed before turning back to me. "I have to go after him. Will you be all right?"
I nodded and watched Rick disappear. I made my way around the edge of the dance floor to the front of the club, trying to make sense of what had just happened. This must have been the ex-boyfriend, and I felt awful for him. I could only imagine what he must have felt like, watching Rick and me come out from the back of the club, most likely knowing full well what the back area was used for.
I spotted Greg at the bar, leaning over yet another pint, probably trying to drown his sorrow or guilt or worse. I walked up to stand beside him.
"You're a cold hearted motherfucker, you know that?" I said, without any preamble.
He didn't answer me directly.
"Did you enjoy yourself back there?" he asked. "A blow job from Rick is quite a rare treat. He's rather talented in that department. A real giver."
I ignored him. "You called his ex and had him come here so he could see us, didn't you? You like causing other people pain?"
"Fuck you. You don't know me or anything about this situation. You should just thank me for helping you get your rocks off and be on your way."
I considered his suggestion. He was right, I didn't know anything about this, but that didn't stop me from having an opinion, and even feeling sorry for him. It was clear he was in some heavy pain himself.
"You wanna talk about it?"
"Piss off, will you? Why the fuck would I want to talk about it, especially with you, a total stranger?"
"Maybe because I am a total stranger so you can be completely honest and not worry about repercussions. And I can give you an impartial observer's opinion, if you want it."
He looked at me carefully, apparently trying to evaluate my motives. After a while, apparently satisfied with his inspection, he nodded.
"Fine, but not here. Too many ears. Let's walk."
We left the club and walked a few blocks until we found a bench in an empty small park.
"Why don't you just tell him?" I asked bluntly.
"Tell who what?"
"Tell Rick that you're in love with him."
Greg laughed darkly.
"You think he doesn't know? I've been in love with him forever. I'm the first guy he ever kissed, the first guy he blew. When we first figured out we were both gay, we used to experiment together. But he's never felt the same way about me that I felt about him. And then H. came along and it was all over. Rick fell head over heels and I might as well have disappeared off the face of the planet."
"So what happened between them?"
"H. couldn't fucking appreciate the best thing he ever had. You'd think that asshole was the second coming, the way everyone treats him, and he can't handle disappointing expectations in any way. And him being gay? That would be a huge disappointment for so many people. So when Rick got tired of keeping secrets and wanted to make their relationship public, H. freaked out and left him. "
My stomach constricted. I felt all of their pain, commingled with my own. We all had the same problem – falling in love with the wrong people.
"So I still don't understand. Rick is free now. Why not just tell him how you feel? Why all the games? Why drag me into it?"
Greg hung his head.
"Yeah, sorry about that. I guess I just thought if Rick saw me with someone else, someone as hot as you, maybe he'd see me in a new light, you know? Maybe he'd get jealous and realize how good it could be if he were with me. But I should have known no one like you would ever want to be with me after you met him."
I felt guilty, but I was too honest to lie about my feelings. Still, he wasn't entirely correct.
"Greg, don't talk like that. You don't have to put yourself down. It's true, something about Rick drew me. But that doesn't mean that everyone feels that way. Different people are attracted by different things."
"That's easy to say for someone who looks like you. I'm sure back home you're fending guys off left and right. I don't have to worry about that. And I have a problem because I'm in love with someone who is completely out of reach, but sets the standard for everyone else to measure up to, and how could they? Rick is so damn perfect!"
I laughed about all of his misconceptions about me. He stared at me, annoyed.
"Did I miss a joke?"
"You made a joke, but without knowing. Back at home I live in a tiny town without a single openly gay resident, including me. No one in Forks knows I'm gay. Well. . ." I hesitated, thinking of Bella, "one person does know, but she knows to keep her yap shut. I haven't said anything to any of my friends or family. I only know two guys my age who are gay and they live in New York and are dating each other. Last summer I messed around with a friend, but it wasn't a relationship. In fact, I never had a boyfriend, never had a real date, and beyond a blow job I'm still a virgin. And, yeah, I'm in love with my straight best friend. How's that for hilarious?"
Greg's jaw dropped as he looked at me wide eyed.
"You're kidding, right? I mean, you can't be serious about all that."
"Oh, I'm as serious as a fuckin' heart attack. My life is a mess. And it's only getting messier. When I go back to Seattle I will be living with the straight best friend I'm lusting after, who has a stated goal to fuck every girl within a30 mile radius of the
apartment and to score some pussy for me as well. I guess you could say
Edward's a giver too."
Greg looked at me and started laughing. Then, seeing the total lack of amusement in my face, immediately stopped.
"Oh, man, I'm so sorry. It's just that I never thought I'd find someone with bigger problems than me, but you definitely win this one."
I cracked a smile.
"Yeah. So don't tell me I don't know how you feel or what you're talking about. I'm pining for someone who can never be what I need him to be. Worse, he's a frickin' homophobe, so if I want to stay friends with him I can't even tell him I'm gay, much less that I'm in love with him."
Greg sobered up immediately.
"And you're going to live with this guy at least for a year if not more? Seriously? That's insane! I mean, I understand why you did it while you were living in a small town, where there was no possibility of finding anyone else anyway. But now you'll be in a big city. There's bound to be a gay community there. It's time for you to start living your life, meeting people. Clearly you know your feelings for this guy are a dead end. You need to move on."
I looked at him pointedly.
"Physician heal thyself?" I asked. It was hard to tell in the glow of the streetlight, but I thought Greg reddened slightly.
"It's different for Rick and me," he grumbled.
"Really? Maybe it is, but it seems to me you're afraid to find out either way. That's why you're playing all of these games, all of which seem to backfire, by the way. If you haven't managed to put Rick and H together with your little stunt tonight, and you have to prepare yourself that this is a distinct possibility, then you have to tell Rick and find out how he really feels. He may not know. He may have turned to H because he thought you didn't want to be with him."
Greg snorted derisively .I didn't know if he was trying to piss me off or if he just couldn't get what I was saying through his thick skull, but either way it was time for me to leave.
"All right, well, if you don't want to talk to Rick, if you don't mind playing the 'what if' game your entire life, fine. But you still need to move on and find someone else. Contrary to what you believe, there are plenty of guys out there who would be thrilled to be with you, but you haven't given them a chance. You can't keep measuring everyone up against Rick – you have to see them for who they are and let yourself fall in love with someone else."
"And you're going to do the same?"
I thought about Edward, about what happened between us before I left, about what Peter had said.
Maybe Peter was right? The more I considered Edward's behavior, the more I allowed myself to believe that he could be gay, or maybe bi. And if so, then I couldn't leave him until I found out. But given his hatred of queers, how could I ever bring something like that up without risking everything? And if I did risk everything, would it be worth it even if it cost me his friendship? And what the fuck would I do about my living arrangements if it turned out he hated me for being gay and wanted nothing to do with me? I had to give up my place in the dorms and I couldn't afford to get a place of my own even if I could get out of my lease with Edward, which would leave him in a lurch. Not that his parents couldn't afford to cover my share of the rent too, but that wouldn't exactly be fair.
I ran a hand through my hair, desperately trying to sort out my jumbled thoughts through the haze left by all the beer I'd consumed earlier.
"It's a bit more complicated for me," I said, defensively.
"I think it's complicated because you let it get complicated. Because, like me, you're more afraid of losing him completely than taking a chance on having all of him."
He'd just hit the fuckin' nail on the head. Not that I didn't know this before, but hearing basically a complete stranger say it was still a blow.
You're right, Greg," I said, standing up to leave. "So listen to yourself if you won't listen to me. Don't complicate things when you should be simplifying them. Talk to Rick and clear things up once and for all. Even if the worst is true, at least you'll know and will be able to move on. Now, it's getting late and I'd better head back. My dad might be getting worried.
Greg stood up and pulled out his wallet, taking a business card out and handing it to me.
"Listen, I'm really sorry I got you involved in all this tonight. I was a bastard for using you like that. But you got something out of it, right? I mean, damn . . ."
I looked away from him. It couldn't be easy for him knowing the love of his life just sucked my cock in the back of the club. What the fuck could I say to make him feel better? Fortunately, no words seemed necessary, as he just kept talking.
"So no hard feelings? This is my contact info if you're ever back in London. Maybe next time we can have a beer without crying into it?"
"Thanks, that'd be good," I said, shoving the card in my pocket. Then a question occurred to me that I'd been dying to know the answer to all night. "So what the hell gave me away? I mean. I haven't come out yet and most people think I'm straight, at least I think they do. How did you know I wasn't?"
He looked taken aback a bit, and considered the question.
"I don’t know. I guess it was a bunch of little things. The way you carried yourself, the more careful way you were dressed for someone your age, but mostly it was the fact that you didn't have any personal space issues with me. Most straight men shy away from physical contact with other men they don't know. That goes double for Americans. But you didn't have any problems with me touching your arm or your back as we were on the tour. So I guess I just assumed. Did you really not realize I was gay?"
I shook my head. "My gaydar must be missing or something. Kind of inconvenient."
"And the fact that I was constantly hiding behind furniture or my clip-board during the tour didn't clue you in?" he laughed. I looked at him, shocked.
"Seriously?"
"Oh, bloody hell, you can't be that blind. Have you looked in the mirror lately? You're smokin' hot. When you finally do come out you're going to have so many guys crawling all over you, you won't know what to do with yourself. And I may be in love with Rick, but I can't always control my physical reactions to guys who look like you."
I chuckled. I was in love with Edward, but that didn't exactly stop me from accepting Rick's offer earlier. My only justification as that I knew Edward was fuckin' around right now as well, and that we didn't have any kind of relationship to be faithful to.
"Right, well, thanks for the explanation. Gives me something to think about, I guess." I said. "I'll keep in touch," I added, tapping the pocket where I had placed his card. "Good luck with Rick."
"Good luck with Edward," he told me and we each walked in separate directions.
I was yanked out of my recollections by a slight shaking of the plane and the bell that announced the lighting of the seat belt sign. I was a nervous flyer and, per airline instructions, always kept the damn seat belt fastened while I was in my seat, so there was nothing for me to do but grip the arm rest a little more tightly. A voice came over the intercom.
"Ladies and gentlemen, this is your first officer speaking. We'll be experiencing some mild turbulence as we get over the mountains, so the captain has turned on the seat belt sign. Please return to your seats and buckle up. We'll let you know as soon as it's once again safe for you to move about the cabin."
Fuckin' turbulence! Everyone I knew kept telling me that planes wanted to stay in the air, but when the damned things were being tossed around by the slightest shift in the wind direction is was kind of hard to believe. I looked out the sliver of window next to me, but couldn't see shit. Still, flying over the mountains meant I was nearly home, getting closer and closer to Edward.
Chapter 7: Commencement -- Part 1
The flight from New York to Seattle was long. Not as long as the flight to Europe, but long enough to be annoying when the single fuckin' movie being shown was of absolutely no interest. I had the misfortune of being squished into an economy seat without nearly enough room for my long legs, between the partially blocked window and a large woman who clearly could have used some help from Jenny Craig. At least she wasn't chatty. Thank God for small fuckin' favors.
I could have dug out my laptop from my carry-on bag, but decided that trying to get to the overhead bin wouldn't be worth the effort. So instead I sat there, feeling like a fuckin' sardine, getting lost in my thoughts.
I was heading towards a new beginning. When the plane landed I wouldn't be going back to Forks. Mom and Jerry would be waiting for me with my sister, having had already brought up to the apartment the stuff I'd packed before I left for New York. The four of us would go out to lunch and then we'd go out furniture shopping to but some basics: a bed, desk, chair & nightstand for my room, plus a dinette set that would be my contribution to the common room. After everything was purchased and delivered to the apartment, my family would go back to Forks and I would start the next phase of my life alone.
Well, not entirely alone. Edward would be there, of course, in the apartment I'd agreed to share with him. Much as I feared and dreaded the living arrangements, some part of me was looking forward to seeing Edward again and being able to spend more time with him. Unlike last summer, when Peter had occupied all of my time, I actually missed Edward a lot. It was stupid, I knew, since the things I missed the most were ones I could never have again, like the feeling of his cock in my hand, his fist wrapped around my hard shaft, and the searing heat of his lips. I knew the fact that I ever knew what these things felt like was an anomaly, never to be repeated, and yet I couldn't stop thinking about them, about him: his beautiful green eyes, his gorgeous face, his crooked smile, his unruly bronze hair, his sexy baritone . . .
As usual, thoughts of Edward made all my blood rush directly to my cock, and I had to quickly cover up with the blanket provided earlier by the flight attendant. The last thing I needed was for the damn woman next to me to notice my boner and, God forbid, think that she fuckin' inspired it.
I wondered what seeing Edward again would be like. We'd exchanged e-mails throughout the summer, as well as few phone calls, but with me being on another continent it just wasn't as easy. When we talked he always said he was fine and talked about all the stuff he'd been doing, but he always sounded just a little off, like he was trying too fuckin' hard to convince me or himself that he meant what he said. About the only time he sounded right was when we talked about college and moving into our place. Who the hell ever knew Edward could be so damn domestic? He wanted to plan everything. We agreed that his parents would spring for the couch, recliners and sofa table and he'd bring his over-elaborate entertainment system. My parents would take care of the dinette furniture and the kitchen stuff. Fortunately, being two guys, we didn't need anything too elaborate, but my mom vetoed the idea of a bumper pool or poker table that could double up as dining surface.
Edward had driven up to Seattle several times and scoped out our neighborhood, checking out the available food and entertainment options. Always fuckin' thorough when it came to filling his belly, he even made a point of trying all the different pizza joints in the area so that by the time we got there we'd have a favorite and a backup. He found a couple of bars – one classy and the other more of a neighborhood joint – better as a guy hangout. Edward had a connection for fake IDs and he assured me that he already procured several for us, just in case any of them got confiscated during what he assured me would be our frequent visits to the local watering holes.
He also found some cafes and located book and music stores for me, as well as grocery, convenience and liquor stores, making sure that we knew where to obtain life's basic necessities. He even fuckin' found a dry cleaner that picked up and delivered laundry. I would have told him not to go through all the trouble – that there'd be plenty of time to do it all once we arrived, but I got the feeling those recognizance trips were his more enjoyable summer activities. Knowing how miserable he had been right before I left for vacation and how morose he sounded from time to time on the phone and in his e-mails, I would support just about any activity that got him out of his funk.
That last week in Forks before graduation had been hard. Although he didn't say anything and, for the most part, he did a great job of hiding it, I saw brief but consistent glimpses of the depression I first spotted the night of his party. I did my best to help, to try to lift his spirits, but my time was limited with all the stuff I had to do before graduation. I was the valedictorian of our class, so I had to write a damn speech that wouldn't be a total embarrassment to my superintendent step-father and my professional writer father. I also had to pack my shit for the summer and all my stuff for college, since I wouldn't have a chance to do it when I came back from my dad's. Then, when my father and grandparents arrived for graduation, I had to keep them company. None of this left a lot of time to spend with my best friend.
Even on graduation day we only saw each other briefly before the ceremony, and then briefly again after, to exchange a high five and shoot the shit a little before we left to celebrate with our respective families. I knew Edward would go to the huge graduation party at Tyler's house, but my dad and I had an early flight to catch the following day, so I elected to sleep instead. In retrospect that may have been a bad decision, but even if I had gone to the party, with all the other people there I doubt I could have helped Edward in any way.
Fortunately, it turned out not to matter. As the end of the summer approached, I sensed Edward's darker mood lifting, and I was relatively sure I would find him in good spirits when I finally got to the apartment.
I would be a fuckin' liar if I didn't admit I had some fears about what it would be like to see him again after that last encounter at his house. Edward and I never talked about that Saturday night, which frustrated me to no end. I just couldn't stop thinking about the kiss, and couldn't make a damn lick of sense of it. Desperate for some insight as to what happened, I confessed everything to Peter when I got to New York. He listened to my story about Bella's cheating and what happened when Edward came over, and then everything that happened afterwards, and he shook his head in disbelief.
"You know, for a fairly smart, intuitive and sensitive guy, " he said, "You can be pretty damn dense."
"What the fuck are you talking about, Peter?" I asked, annoyed to be treated like some dim-wit who doesn't have a clue.
"Shit, I only met him once for about 20 minutes and I could see plain as day that he was totally into you. How you've managed to ignore all the signs is totally beyond me."
"Into me?" I laughed, "Edward is as straight as they get. He'd easily fuck 10 different girls a day if he could."
Peter sighed.
"You know how you told Edward that fucking Bella up the ass didn't make him queer? Well fucking pussy doesn't make his straight, either. I have no doubt he probably always thought he was straight, probably still does and maybe always will, but I told you before, I have great gaydar, and with all the shit that went down in the last month I'm even more sure than I was before. He wants you, Jasper, and he wants you bad. I don't give a fuck what he tries to tell you and himself, straight guys do not kiss and jack off other straight guys. And I don't for one second believe that either one of you is stupid enough to fall for that either."
"So what should I do?" I asked. I didn't really believe the things Peter was telling me, but he had sparked a flicker of hope.
He took my hand and looked straight into my eyes.
"Babe, you know I only want the best for you, right?"
I nodded. He didn't need to ask that. I trusted him completely.
"Then please listen to me on this and run like hell in the opposite direction. Get yourself as far as humanly possible from him."
I blanched and pulled my arm away in anger. What the fuck? He knew! He knew how much I loved Edward. He was telling me that there was a chance that Edward could love me back and he was telling me to run? Why? I'd never been anything but encouraging of all his relationships. I was fuckin' ecstatic that he and Marcus found each other. Why couldn't he do the same for me?
"Jasper," he said quietly, "I'm not trying to hurt you. I'm trying to spare you pain. Guys like him rarely come out of the closet. He might come out to you, keep you on the side while he leads his normal straight lifestyle, but he'll never be all yours. You know how horrible you felt when he was with Bella? It will be 10 times worse if he's married with a family."
"No," I said. "It wouldn't be worse. Because when he was with Bella he wasn't with me. I wasn't sharing, I was observing. If I had been sharing, maybe . . ."
"It would have been worse." Peter repeated. "There's no maybe about it. It would have twisted you up inside every time you saw them touch each other. And there's another reason why I said what I said. Even if he was ready to come out tomorrow and drag you out of the closet with him, I still would tell you to run. Because even though he clearly wants you, I'm not sure he's capable of loving anyone other than himself. He's a selfish prick who thinks the universe revolves around him. And you fucking deserve better than that. You deserve to find someone who will worship you as much as you worship him, will try his best to make you happy, not just himself."
I shook my head vehemently. "You don't know him like I do," I said. "He does things to make me happy."
Peter scoffed. "What? He lets you choose a movie or a pizza toping every once in a while? Throws you a bone? Come on!"
The things he said rang too true, but I couldn't let him know it.
"You know what, Peter? Fuck you! You don't know everything. Not everything in life is perfect, nor does it have to be for me to be happy. I know Edward and all his flaws and I love him anyway. If he was actually willing to give me any part of himself I would be fuckin' thrilled. And if you can't appreciate that and hope for the best for me, then you're no fuckin' friend."
I stood up and walked away from him. He followed me and placed a hand on my shoulder.
"Go away. I don't wanna talk to you anymore," I said petulantly. "It must be so easy for you to preach this shit to me now that you have a fuckin' perfect relationship with your perfect gay boyfriend. Well some of us are not that lucky and we have to take what we can get, and if you can't or don't want to understand that then leave me the fuck alone."
"Jesus, Jasper, it's not that I don't understand. I'm just trying to get you to see that you don't have to settle for that. You can have everything that Marcus and I have, you just have to forget about Edward and try to find someone else.
"But fine, I can see you can't be reasonable about this right now so I'll leave you to your pity party. But I am your friend and I do care about you. And whatever you decide, I'll always be here for you. No matter what. Even if I have to help you pick up a thousand pieces of your fucking broken heart and help you put it all together again."
I shrugged his hand off my shoulder and didn't respond. I was so pissed. How could he do that to me? Dangle this carrot right in front of me and then dip it in a bucket of shit before handing it over. In that moment I'd resolved not to see Peter any more that summer. With friends like him, I'd be better off hanging out all summer alone.
I probably would not have stuck to that resolution, but the next week my father announced that his publisher was sending him on a trip to Europe to promote his latest book, and he wanted to take me with him so I could have some cultural exposure before heading off to college. Dad's publisher pulled some strings to get me a passport quickly, and in a few days we were flying to London.
Once we arrived, my father was immediately swept up in a flurry of book related activities – meetings with his publisher, receptions, readings, promotional interviews and a whole bunch of other stuff that I really didn't care about. The only thing that interested me was an interview he did on a morning talk show, and only because while he was being interviewed I was given a behind the scenes tour of the studio by Greg, an intern only slightly older than me who was very eager to demonstrate his knowledge of the ins and outs of TV production. We got along well and when he found out that I didn't know anyone my age in London he invited me to meet him and his friends for a drink at their favorite pub that night. Having nothing better to do I agreed, though I made sure to stay cool, so I didn't appear desperate for companionship.
And, in fact, as far as big cities which one has to explore alone went, London was awesome! I found so many things I wanted to do, there simply wasn't a way to fit everything in. Between the traditional tourist sightseeing, the museums, the theater and the walking tours I'd discovered through a pamphlet I found in the lobby of my hotel, I barely saw my dad or the inside of our hotel room.
The evening of my dad's TV interview I arrived at the designated tube stop with a few minutes to spare and waited for Greg, who appeared not long after me. We walked the few blocks to the pub, chatting about how I had occupied my time since my arrival.
It was all very superficially friendly, though there was something in Greg's demeanor that was just a little bit off. He tried to come off as nonchalant, but there was a nervous energy around the edges that he couldn't quite hide, especially when we walked into a pub and he led the way to a table where his friends were holding a couple of spots open for us.
"Hey guys, this is Jasper. He's from New York visiting London for a couple of weeks with his father. We met when his dad was getting interviewed on the show, and I found he didn't know anyone here, so I thought he might appreciate a night out with the boys. Jasper, this is Vince, Dré, and Rick."
I turned to shake each guy's hand. Vince had a round face, dark hair and eyes and a large frame with overdeveloped muscles – a body type that seemed to fit his name. Dré was the exact opposite. Average height and slightly built, his facial features were long, narrow and angular, his hair was pale blond, almost white, and his eyes were a light steely grey.
When I got to the third guy, though, the first two were instantly forgotten. Once I saw Rick, it was impossible to concentrate on anyone else. To say he was one of the most fuckin' attractive guys I have ever seen would be an understatement. He had darkish dirty blond hair that was perfectly styled and gorgeous eyes that fell somewhere between blue and gray in color. His face was so perfect it looked like some freakishly talented sculptor chiseled it to look good from every angle, but especially in profile. I felt a tightening in my pants before his hand even touched mine, and as his warm skin pressed against mine I was damn grateful that the pub table hid what was going on below my waist from the other guys. There was something familiar about him, though I knew I'd never met him before and I couldn't quite think of where the familiarity would have come from, except maybe someone famous whose name and face escaped me. But regardless of the source, I found myself staring at him, completely unable to turn away, until the sound of a throat being cleared finally pulled me out of my trance.
I looked at Greg, whose eyes were downcast as he muttered a quick "Fuck! It figures," under his breath. I didn't know what he was referring too, but when I scanned the faces of his friends, all three sported knowing smirks, which were oddly disconcerting.
"I said I'm getting another round. What are you drinking?" Vince was looking at me expectedly.
"Um, ESB," I muttered quickly, reaching for my wallet and handing him a few notes. My father made sure I had plenty of cash to enjoy myself on this trip and I thought I might as well use some of it as a good will gesture with my new British friends. "This round's on me."
"Thanks," Vince said taking the bills without protest, "Come on, Dré, give me a hand."
The smaller boy looked put out to be asked to help with a task as menial as fetching beer, but after a second look from Vince he slid off the stool and followed him to the bar. To keep myself from staring at Rick again, I looked around the pub, for the first time noticing that the clientele was all male. Even I could tell that some were decidedly not heterosexual. In fact, as I looked more closely, it seemed that if any of the guys were heterosexual, they were here by mistake. I finally experienced that epiphany that I should have fuckin' had when I first walked in. I looked to Greg, his eyes still downcast, and I realized that he hadn't just asked me here because he thought a lonely American kid might appreciate hanging out with the locals for the night. Damn! Peter was right. I was a fuckin' dim-wit when it came to all this stuff.
Quickly I re-assessed Greg in light of my newfound appreciation of the situation. He'd been pleasant enough earlier but certainly nothing about him stood out. Physically he wasn't unattractive, but totally not my type. I enjoyed talking with him about TV production, but there was nothing else to pull me in. Had I realized why he had suggested that I join him and his friends this evening, I would have definitely declined. So now I had to figure out a way to get out of this situation gracefully. And I had to stop thinking about the absolutely fuck hot dirty blond sitting next to me. Not that he was going to make it easy for me.
"So," Rick said, leaning over to me so that I could hear him about the din of the pub, "an American Yankee in London, huh. First time?" his warm breath fluttered pleasantly over my ear as he spoke, his voice rich like velvet and so fuckin' sexy with that damned British accent!
"Um, yeah." Nice! Could I be any more fuckin' inarticulate?
"So are you enjoying your visit?" I knew I was probably imagining it, but his lips were so close to my ear I could almost feel them on my skin, which did nothing to quell my raging hard-on. I leaned away from him a bit to give myself a little room to cool off.
"Sure," I said, directing my response to the whole table, "I mean, it's London. There's so much to do."
Vince and Dré came back with the beers. After they set down the glasses and took their seats, I watched Vince place his hand on Dré's thigh, lean over and whisper something in his ear. Dré's face lit up with a smile and he suddenly looked angelically beautiful. He turned his face to whisper something to Vince, his lips flitting across Vince's cheek in the process. I looked away, unsure on what the right reaction was to this obvious public display of homosexual affection, only to see Rick watching me from beneath his lashes as he drank his beer. I blushed furiously and reached for my own brew, pretending to be completely absorbed in the glass filled with amber liquid.
"So what have you done with your time so far?" Rick asked, pulling me back into the conversation. I briefly rattled off my various activities, growing increasingly annoyed by the condescending looking smirk that appeared on his face as I spoke. It was my first time out of the fuckin' United States and I wanted to take full advantage of it. I didn't care if I seemed like every other damn tourist in the process. Finally, I'd had enough of the smirking and stopped.
"I know it all must seem cliché to you, but I'm actually having a great fuckin' time," I said, sounding a bit too resentful. I looked at Greg, who flashed me a guilty smile.
"Don't be offended, Jasper, you're cool. It's just that it's always the same with you Yanks – whenever we meet someone from the states it's always like a tourist marathon. You all inhale London. You never stop to appreciate the details."
"Well, tonight is a step in the right direction, isn’t it? I mean, here he is, slowing down, mixing with the natives, taking in the local flavor," Rick said. Dré and Vince snickered again and I blushed once more. I didn't appreciate being the butt of the jokes, had just about had enough of the natives, and hated the way Greg had blindsided me this evening.
"Right. Well, I've actually got another busy day planned for tomorrow, so I'd better get going. It was nice meeting you all. Thanks for the invite, Greg."
I started to get up, but was stopped by Rick's strong hand placed restrainingly on my arm.
"Don't get offended, Jasper. It's nothing personal. We just tend to do things slower here than you do in America. You New Yorkers are just too fast."
I laughed.
"My dad lives in New York and I spend my summers with him, but I actually live in a small town in Washington state and, believe me, my life is normally as slow as molasses. I guess this is my way of making up for lost time, trying to cram in as much as I can before I go back to start school in Seattle this fall."
We started talking again, this time more about ourselves, and soon enough I was truly enjoying myself. I found the guys had all gone to the same public school, which apparently had the opposite meaning in England, and continued to keep in touch after graduation, getting together once or twice a week to catch up. After a while I was content to sit back and listen to them go through their normal routine, not wanting to interfere with their socializing. It was a different evening than I'd anticipated, but I was having a good time.
As time passed, though, and we went through a few more rounds of beer, I started feeling the effects of the alcohol and wondered if it wasn't time for me to head back to the hotel while I was still sober enough to find my way home. I tried to be inconspicuous as I slipped off the stool but, once again, Rick restrained me with his hand.
"Hey, guys, we're being rude and clearly boring the shit out of Jasper. How about we show him a bit of the London night life? Anyone up for dancing?"
"Hell yeah, now you're talking," Vince said enthusiastically. He and Dré had spent most of the night exchanging small gestures of affection and I could tell they were eager to take the physical contact even further before they took it home.
"Dancing, Rick? Isn't it a little soon for you?" Greg sounded resentful.
Rick shrugged and I could see anger bubbling up beneath his seemingly cool exterior.
"He's made his decision, so it's pretty clear I need to move on."
"Shut it, Greg," Dré interjected before Greg could formulate a reply, "It's none of our business and we weren't going to take sides. If you've changed your mind, then you shouldn't have come."
Greg looked down at the table again, looking very unhappy. I was starting to understand the undercurrent of the discussion, maybe even the evening, and I didn't like how I fit in. Rick clearly had just broken off a serious relationship and was ready to play the field again, apparently with me. Greg was angry that Rick was chasing me, either because Greg wanted me for himself or, more likely, because he had specifically invited me to make Rick jealous, and the plan backfired. I wasn't sure which pissing match these two were getting into, but I sure as hell wasn't eager to get caught in the cross stream.
"Listen, guys, I've had a busy week, so I think I'll pass tonight and just go back to my hotel. Thanks for the invite, anyway."
"Come on, Jasper. You can't be serious," Rick said. "You're too fucking young to go home at this hour on a Friday night. All the stuff you planned for tomorrow is still going to be there if you sleep in a couple of hours. Come to the club with us. I bet you haven't seen anything like it in America."
And that was another problem. I'd never been clubbing anywhere, and I hated to look even more like a fish out of water with these guys, especially Rick.
"I'm really not much of a dancer," I tried again, weakly.
"Neither is Greg," Rick sniggered. "Doesn't stop him from going."
"Piss off, Rick," Greg grumbled, "If he doesn't want to go he doesn't have to. Come on, Jasper, I'll get you back to your hotel."
"Um. . ." I looked at both Greg and Rick, confused. No matter what I did I would be choosing between them, and I really didn't want to give Greg the impression that I'd chosen him. Maybe it would be better to go to the club and sneak out while they were all dancing? "On second thought, Rick may be right. I mean, when in Rome, right?"
"That's the American spirit," Rick said, slapping me on the shoulder as he got up. "Let's go."
We left the pub and walked a few blocks to the club. Along the way I noticed Vince had his arm wrapped around Dré's waist while the smaller man's hand rested snugly in the back pocket of Vince's jeans. Seeing them together made me recall the few times Peter and I dared to hold hands in public and how good it felt to be open about who I was. I wondered how long it would be before I had that feeling again.
"Fuckers are in love," Rick said bitterly when he noticed the direction of my stare. "I mean, I'm happy for them and all, but I wish I didn't have to have it shoved in my face."
"Bloody hell," Greg grumbled. "Like you didn't do exactly the same shit when you were with . . ." a withering look from Rick stopped Greg short.
Tension between Greg and Rick was thick, and I could see that it went beyond me and whatever was happening tonight. I was thrilled when we got to the club, where I hoped to lose myself in the crowd and eventually slip away unnoticed.
"Come on, Jasper, let's dance," Rick said, grabbing my hand as soon as we took care of the cover charge. I would have protested, but I knew he wouldn't be able to hear me over the music, so I just followed, hoping against all odds that I wouldn't make too much of an ass of myself.
Rick found a bit of real estate on the dance floor just large enough for the two of us and began to dance. I watched him, impressed with the ease with which he moved while standing absolutely frozen in terror myself. At first he didn't notice, lost in the rhythm of the song. Soon, however, he focused back on me and frowned.
"You're not moving!" he shouted.
"I've never done this," I confessed loudly, though no one but him would have been able to hear me.
"Come on, it's not that hard. Just feel the music."
I tried, but I felt awkward and self-conscious and I was sure I didn't look much better.
Rick watched me critically. "You need to loosen up," he said.
He came up close behind me, grabbed my hips and began to move us together. The feel of his body pressed up full length right behind mine caused my cock to stiffen again. I tried to pull away, but he held me firmly to him, grinding his own erection into my ass. He took my right arm and lifted it up so that it curled up around his neck as I leaned back into his shoulder. He returned his right hand to my hip, then slid it under the edge of my t-shirt and moved it over my chest. Suddenly dancing with him like this felt like the most natural thing in the world.
"You're doing great," Rick said right next to my ear so I could hear without him having to shout. "I love holding you like this."
I arched into him, letting out a moan that I hoped only he could hear. I moved my left hand behind me, slipping it between our bodies to stroke his shaft through his jeans. He moved his left hand inside the waist of my jeans, ghosting it across my lower abdomen, his fingertips gently stroking the head of my engorged cock.
"You know, Jasper," he said into my ear, "I'm suddenly ravenous. And do you know what I have a taste for?"
I looked back at him, unable to speak. He shifted his head and kissed me, hard, the flesh of his lips first pushing against mine, then sucking in first my lower lip and then my tongue. All the while his fingertips played the head of my dick like a fuckin' instrument. I was so turned on I could barely remain upright, grateful I could lean on him for support.
"Mm," he said when he finally broke off the kiss. "You taste delicious. But what I'm really craving is a mouthful of that fabulous Yankee cock of yours."
He slipped both of his hands into my jeans and was now stroking my cock in earnest, right in the middle of the dance floor. It took all the control I had not to cream my pants right then and there. Instead of panicking and pulling his hands out, like any sane person would, I sucked in my stomach to give him better access.
"Fuck," I exhaled, barely audibly. I knew he heard me, though, when I felt the vibrations of his chuckle.
"Never before the first date," he said. "What kind of a bloke do you take me for? But I can make you feel good. Follow me."
He slipped his hands out of my pants and I mourned the loss of contact. From the corner of my eye I saw Greg watching us resentfully, but I couldn't bring myself to care. All I knew is that my cock was desperate for the relief Rick offered, and I was willing to follow him just about anywhere. I just hoped that we weren't going far.
Rick was obviously familiar with the club. Without hesitation he pulled me towards an area in the back where the walls were hung with heavy curtains. After several answered inquiries, he located an empty alcove and pulled me back behind the curtain.
"Sorry I can't be as romantic as I normally would be," he said, undoing my belt and the fastenings on my jeans, "but back here time really is of the essence."
He slid to his knees in front of me, pulling down my jeans and boxers just low enough to give him access to my rock-hard cock. He pushed me against the wall and, without further ceremony, wrapped his lips around my swollen head. I groaned at the sensation of his warm, wet, cavernous mouth surrounding my most sensitive skin. His tongue traced the underside of my head before focusing on the spot at the very tip of my head, right above the slit, his flicking tongue sending fire bolts of pleasure throughout my body. Without the supporting wall behind me, I was sure I would have collapsed.
He sucked me in deeper, swallowing almost my entire cock. His left hand was on my ass, squeezing in time with the thrusts of my hips into his willing mouth. His right hand stroked my tight balls, adding to the ratcheting tension inside me. I fisted his hair for leverage as I bucked my hips into his face faster and faster, my animalistic groans matching those coming from the adjacent alcoves. The feel of his mouth, tongue and hands on me, combined with the illicit nature of this hook up and the soundtrack provided by the other guys getting lucky just inches to either side of me helped my orgasm build faster and stronger than ever before. Sensing my readiness, Rick pulled back and sent me into orbit with just a couple of flicks of his tongue at my head, swallowing my twitching cock again as I came and drinking every drop of cum he could suck out of me. He squeezed my ass affectionately when I was done, pushing himself up again, and quickly pulling up and re-fastening my jeans and belt. He leaned hard against me and kissed me passionately, letting me taste the residue of my cum on his tongue.
"Wow, Rick, that was amazing." I said, knowing it sounded lame and didn't come nearly close enough to describe what had just happened. "Thank you."
"It was my pleasure, Jasper," he said, sounding happy. "Welcome to London."
He kissed me again and then pulled me out of the alcove and back into the club. I was still dazed, barely able to walk and feeling guilty that I did nothing to reciprocate. I was just about to say something when Rick came to a sudden halt, inertia forcing me to slam into his back. I looked around him to see what caused him to stop and saw a lean, brown haired boy with glasses, whose eyes kept darting from Rick to me, seemingly in complete shock.
"I came to see if maybe we could talk," the boy choked out. "Greg said you were here, but he didn't mention you were occupied."
Rick looked back at me apologetically and dropped my hand.
"You should have told me you were coming, H."
The other boy laughed.
"Why? So you had time to hide your new boy toy? I'm not sure I need to be that accommodating. Anyway, just forget it. I shouldn't have come."
He turned around and walked away, quickly blending into the dance floor crowd.
"Fucking Greg, I'm gonna kill him," Rick hissed before turning back to me. "I have to go after him. Will you be all right?"
I nodded and watched Rick disappear. I made my way around the edge of the dance floor to the front of the club, trying to make sense of what had just happened. This must have been the ex-boyfriend, and I felt awful for him. I could only imagine what he must have felt like, watching Rick and me come out from the back of the club, most likely knowing full well what the back area was used for.
I spotted Greg at the bar, leaning over yet another pint, probably trying to drown his sorrow or guilt or worse. I walked up to stand beside him.
"You're a cold hearted motherfucker, you know that?" I said, without any preamble.
He didn't answer me directly.
"Did you enjoy yourself back there?" he asked. "A blow job from Rick is quite a rare treat. He's rather talented in that department. A real giver."
I ignored him. "You called his ex and had him come here so he could see us, didn't you? You like causing other people pain?"
"Fuck you. You don't know me or anything about this situation. You should just thank me for helping you get your rocks off and be on your way."
I considered his suggestion. He was right, I didn't know anything about this, but that didn't stop me from having an opinion, and even feeling sorry for him. It was clear he was in some heavy pain himself.
"You wanna talk about it?"
"Piss off, will you? Why the fuck would I want to talk about it, especially with you, a total stranger?"
"Maybe because I am a total stranger so you can be completely honest and not worry about repercussions. And I can give you an impartial observer's opinion, if you want it."
He looked at me carefully, apparently trying to evaluate my motives. After a while, apparently satisfied with his inspection, he nodded.
"Fine, but not here. Too many ears. Let's walk."
We left the club and walked a few blocks until we found a bench in an empty small park.
"Why don't you just tell him?" I asked bluntly.
"Tell who what?"
"Tell Rick that you're in love with him."
Greg laughed darkly.
"You think he doesn't know? I've been in love with him forever. I'm the first guy he ever kissed, the first guy he blew. When we first figured out we were both gay, we used to experiment together. But he's never felt the same way about me that I felt about him. And then H. came along and it was all over. Rick fell head over heels and I might as well have disappeared off the face of the planet."
"So what happened between them?"
"H. couldn't fucking appreciate the best thing he ever had. You'd think that asshole was the second coming, the way everyone treats him, and he can't handle disappointing expectations in any way. And him being gay? That would be a huge disappointment for so many people. So when Rick got tired of keeping secrets and wanted to make their relationship public, H. freaked out and left him. "
My stomach constricted. I felt all of their pain, commingled with my own. We all had the same problem – falling in love with the wrong people.
"So I still don't understand. Rick is free now. Why not just tell him how you feel? Why all the games? Why drag me into it?"
Greg hung his head.
"Yeah, sorry about that. I guess I just thought if Rick saw me with someone else, someone as hot as you, maybe he'd see me in a new light, you know? Maybe he'd get jealous and realize how good it could be if he were with me. But I should have known no one like you would ever want to be with me after you met him."
I felt guilty, but I was too honest to lie about my feelings. Still, he wasn't entirely correct.
"Greg, don't talk like that. You don't have to put yourself down. It's true, something about Rick drew me. But that doesn't mean that everyone feels that way. Different people are attracted by different things."
"That's easy to say for someone who looks like you. I'm sure back home you're fending guys off left and right. I don't have to worry about that. And I have a problem because I'm in love with someone who is completely out of reach, but sets the standard for everyone else to measure up to, and how could they? Rick is so damn perfect!"
I laughed about all of his misconceptions about me. He stared at me, annoyed.
"Did I miss a joke?"
"You made a joke, but without knowing. Back at home I live in a tiny town without a single openly gay resident, including me. No one in Forks knows I'm gay. Well. . ." I hesitated, thinking of Bella, "one person does know, but she knows to keep her yap shut. I haven't said anything to any of my friends or family. I only know two guys my age who are gay and they live in New York and are dating each other. Last summer I messed around with a friend, but it wasn't a relationship. In fact, I never had a boyfriend, never had a real date, and beyond a blow job I'm still a virgin. And, yeah, I'm in love with my straight best friend. How's that for hilarious?"
Greg's jaw dropped as he looked at me wide eyed.
"You're kidding, right? I mean, you can't be serious about all that."
"Oh, I'm as serious as a fuckin' heart attack. My life is a mess. And it's only getting messier. When I go back to Seattle I will be living with the straight best friend I'm lusting after, who has a stated goal to fuck every girl within a
Greg looked at me and started laughing. Then, seeing the total lack of amusement in my face, immediately stopped.
"Oh, man, I'm so sorry. It's just that I never thought I'd find someone with bigger problems than me, but you definitely win this one."
I cracked a smile.
"Yeah. So don't tell me I don't know how you feel or what you're talking about. I'm pining for someone who can never be what I need him to be. Worse, he's a frickin' homophobe, so if I want to stay friends with him I can't even tell him I'm gay, much less that I'm in love with him."
Greg sobered up immediately.
"And you're going to live with this guy at least for a year if not more? Seriously? That's insane! I mean, I understand why you did it while you were living in a small town, where there was no possibility of finding anyone else anyway. But now you'll be in a big city. There's bound to be a gay community there. It's time for you to start living your life, meeting people. Clearly you know your feelings for this guy are a dead end. You need to move on."
I looked at him pointedly.
"Physician heal thyself?" I asked. It was hard to tell in the glow of the streetlight, but I thought Greg reddened slightly.
"It's different for Rick and me," he grumbled.
"Really? Maybe it is, but it seems to me you're afraid to find out either way. That's why you're playing all of these games, all of which seem to backfire, by the way. If you haven't managed to put Rick and H together with your little stunt tonight, and you have to prepare yourself that this is a distinct possibility, then you have to tell Rick and find out how he really feels. He may not know. He may have turned to H because he thought you didn't want to be with him."
Greg snorted derisively .I didn't know if he was trying to piss me off or if he just couldn't get what I was saying through his thick skull, but either way it was time for me to leave.
"All right, well, if you don't want to talk to Rick, if you don't mind playing the 'what if' game your entire life, fine. But you still need to move on and find someone else. Contrary to what you believe, there are plenty of guys out there who would be thrilled to be with you, but you haven't given them a chance. You can't keep measuring everyone up against Rick – you have to see them for who they are and let yourself fall in love with someone else."
"And you're going to do the same?"
I thought about Edward, about what happened between us before I left, about what Peter had said.
Maybe Peter was right? The more I considered Edward's behavior, the more I allowed myself to believe that he could be gay, or maybe bi. And if so, then I couldn't leave him until I found out. But given his hatred of queers, how could I ever bring something like that up without risking everything? And if I did risk everything, would it be worth it even if it cost me his friendship? And what the fuck would I do about my living arrangements if it turned out he hated me for being gay and wanted nothing to do with me? I had to give up my place in the dorms and I couldn't afford to get a place of my own even if I could get out of my lease with Edward, which would leave him in a lurch. Not that his parents couldn't afford to cover my share of the rent too, but that wouldn't exactly be fair.
I ran a hand through my hair, desperately trying to sort out my jumbled thoughts through the haze left by all the beer I'd consumed earlier.
"It's a bit more complicated for me," I said, defensively.
"I think it's complicated because you let it get complicated. Because, like me, you're more afraid of losing him completely than taking a chance on having all of him."
He'd just hit the fuckin' nail on the head. Not that I didn't know this before, but hearing basically a complete stranger say it was still a blow.
You're right, Greg," I said, standing up to leave. "So listen to yourself if you won't listen to me. Don't complicate things when you should be simplifying them. Talk to Rick and clear things up once and for all. Even if the worst is true, at least you'll know and will be able to move on. Now, it's getting late and I'd better head back. My dad might be getting worried.
Greg stood up and pulled out his wallet, taking a business card out and handing it to me.
"Listen, I'm really sorry I got you involved in all this tonight. I was a bastard for using you like that. But you got something out of it, right? I mean, damn . . ."
I looked away from him. It couldn't be easy for him knowing the love of his life just sucked my cock in the back of the club. What the fuck could I say to make him feel better? Fortunately, no words seemed necessary, as he just kept talking.
"So no hard feelings? This is my contact info if you're ever back in London. Maybe next time we can have a beer without crying into it?"
"Thanks, that'd be good," I said, shoving the card in my pocket. Then a question occurred to me that I'd been dying to know the answer to all night. "So what the hell gave me away? I mean. I haven't come out yet and most people think I'm straight, at least I think they do. How did you know I wasn't?"
He looked taken aback a bit, and considered the question.
"I don’t know. I guess it was a bunch of little things. The way you carried yourself, the more careful way you were dressed for someone your age, but mostly it was the fact that you didn't have any personal space issues with me. Most straight men shy away from physical contact with other men they don't know. That goes double for Americans. But you didn't have any problems with me touching your arm or your back as we were on the tour. So I guess I just assumed. Did you really not realize I was gay?"
I shook my head. "My gaydar must be missing or something. Kind of inconvenient."
"And the fact that I was constantly hiding behind furniture or my clip-board during the tour didn't clue you in?" he laughed. I looked at him, shocked.
"Seriously?"
"Oh, bloody hell, you can't be that blind. Have you looked in the mirror lately? You're smokin' hot. When you finally do come out you're going to have so many guys crawling all over you, you won't know what to do with yourself. And I may be in love with Rick, but I can't always control my physical reactions to guys who look like you."
I chuckled. I was in love with Edward, but that didn't exactly stop me from accepting Rick's offer earlier. My only justification as that I knew Edward was fuckin' around right now as well, and that we didn't have any kind of relationship to be faithful to.
"Right, well, thanks for the explanation. Gives me something to think about, I guess." I said. "I'll keep in touch," I added, tapping the pocket where I had placed his card. "Good luck with Rick."
"Good luck with Edward," he told me and we each walked in separate directions.
I was yanked out of my recollections by a slight shaking of the plane and the bell that announced the lighting of the seat belt sign. I was a nervous flyer and, per airline instructions, always kept the damn seat belt fastened while I was in my seat, so there was nothing for me to do but grip the arm rest a little more tightly. A voice came over the intercom.
"Ladies and gentlemen, this is your first officer speaking. We'll be experiencing some mild turbulence as we get over the mountains, so the captain has turned on the seat belt sign. Please return to your seats and buckle up. We'll let you know as soon as it's once again safe for you to move about the cabin."
Fuckin' turbulence! Everyone I knew kept telling me that planes wanted to stay in the air, but when the damned things were being tossed around by the slightest shift in the wind direction is was kind of hard to believe. I looked out the sliver of window next to me, but couldn't see shit. Still, flying over the mountains meant I was nearly home, getting closer and closer to Edward.
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