Chapter 9

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Chapter 9: Gravity

I woke up naked, with the comforter on the floor and the top sheet bunched up around my feet.

"Fuck," I swore quietly as I pulled the sheet up to my waist, remembering the events of the previous night. I looked towards the door and saw a gap of about a foot between the door and the jam. I remembered leaving it open last night, but not that much. Had it simply swung this open on its own or had Edward been in my room? Had he seen me sleeping in the nude? More importantly, did he know what I did last night?

I rubbed my face hard with my hand in an effort to wake up and clear my head. Regardless of what he saw or heard or knew, I couldn't hide in my room forever. Sooner or later I had to get out and face him. And, judging by my aching bladder, it would have to be sooner.

I looked around my new room. If I was quick and quiet I could make it to my dresser without being obvious and closing the door. I just hoped that wasn't the moment Edward chose to look in on me. I got out of bed, holding my hand protectively over my junk and feeling like a damn freak as I walked over to the dresser to get a fresh pair of boxers. Why the fuck hadn't I stopped long enough to do this last night?

I pulled up the boxers, and debated adding a T-shirt shirt and jeans, but decided that would be overkill. Edward and I had already seen each other nude, so it would look odd if I was overly modest. With only a thin layer of cotton to shield me, I took a deep breath and walked out into the common area of the apartment, quickly noting that Edward was already awake, eating cereal at our brand new dinette table.

"Morning," I mumbled as I walked past him to the bathroom.

"Morning," he replied. I closed and locked the bathroom door behind me before he could say more.

I turned on the shower water and took care of my bladder while the temperature adjusted. I stepped out of the boxers and under the warm spray, still worried about what the day would bring. I grabbed my cock and jerked off as quickly as I could, knowing the boxers wouldn't be much help if eating breakfast with Edward proved to be more of a turn on than I expected. As soon as I was done I washed and jumped out of the shower, not wanting to appear to take too long. Boxers back on, I headed to the kitchen, grabbed a bowl of cereal and sat at the table across from Edward. Neither of us said anything for a while. Finally he spoke.

"You know, the next time you find yourself wandering in the middle of the night, don't just sit there and listen like a damned pervert. Come in and help."

I must have turned ten shades of red.

"Edward, I'm . . ."

"Don't fucking apologize or try to deny it. I heard you, Jasper, just like you heard me. And I know you were sleeping naked because you used your damn boxers again to contain your cum. So let's not fucking pretend that last night didn't happen. Like I said, we've helped each other before and we can do it again. It's better than spying on each other."

I looked up at him in disbelief. Was he really suggesting that last night I should have just walked into his room and started a mutual jerk session? Fuck! He was taking things too far! While I would have loved nothing more than for us to make each other come over and over again, after what happened the previous night and what he'd said about Seth and Emmett, I knew I could never touch Edward again or let him touch me. The stuff we did in Forks would already destroy him when he found out I was gay. I wasn't about to add to the pile.

"Edward, I wish I could take what happened last night back. It was wrong and an abuse of your trust and it won't happen again. But there's no way we can help each other out that way here. I mean, we just can't do that."

"Why not? I thought we talked about this and decided it was okay. We're just two straight guys who sometimes lend each other a hand. . . "

"No, Edward, I can't. It was one thing the night you broke up with Bella when you were too drunk to do it yourself. And then the night at your house you just wanted prove something to yourself, and I understand all that. But here, day to day, as roommates, it's just . . . Fuck! Look, let's just agree to respect each other's space and privacy and keep our doors closed when we're engaged in sexual activities, even by ourselves, all right?

"Huh? Keep our doors closed? What the fuck? Are you really such a prude?"

"Look, Edward, you may be an exhibitionist but I'm not, and I'm not really comfortable. . ."

"It sure as hell sounded like you were pretty comfortable last night listening to what I was doing," he taunted.

I dropped my spoon into the cereal bowl with a loud clang and pushed myself away from the table angrily.

"I already said that wouldn't happen again, didn't I?" I shouted. "Jesus, I haven't even been back a full day and it's already like this? Why the fuck do you have to be such a prick all the time, Edward? God damn it! I knew living with you would be a mistake. Why the fuck did I ever agree to this?" I stormed off to my room, slamming the door behind me, making sure it was locked before I threw myself on the bed and buried my head in my pillow.

I couldn't do this. I couldn't keep living with him. Not if every day was going to be like this. At least when this kind of shit happened in high school I had my house as my refuge. Here I had nothing. He would always be there, fucking tormenting me, tempting me with the damned forbidden fruit. I had to find a way out.

I heard him knocking on the door, but ignored him. I was thankful for the lock when I heard him rattling the doorknob.

"Jasper? Come on, open the door. What the fuck just happened? Quit hiding in there like a goddamn coward. Come out here and talk to me, for Christ's sake."

Oh, sure, asshole! 'Cause I'd much rather take shit form you face to face than through this door. Go and suck yourself! I was really brave inside my head. Too bad I really was too much of a goddamn coward to actually say the things I was thinking.

"Jasper, are you all right, man? What the hell got into you? Open the fucking door so we can talk."

I didn't respond, though I was slowly calming down. He was a dick. He'd always been a dick and he would always be a dick and Peter had been absolutely right. Edward didn't give a damn about me and my feelings, so why the fuck did I always care so much about him and his?

"Jasper, please. Please come out. This isn't like you. What the hell are you doing in there? You're scaring me."

He sounded genuinely worried, but I didn't budge. It wasn't like I gave him any reason to worry. I was pissed, went to my room and wanted to be left alone. End of story. It didn't mean that there was anything wrong with me. And I sure as hell didn't feel like jumping through some artificial hoops he set up because the way I acted didn't correspond with what he thought I should be doing.

"Jas, I'm sorry. I'm really sorry. Look, I thought we were cool about the whole thing or else I wouldn't of mentioned . . . But I get it, OK? You're not an exhibitionist. I get it. So keep your fucking door closed and I'll do the same. Just, come on! Come out, or at least fucking talk to me. I'm sorry I was such an asshole."

He sounded bad now, contrite and remorseful, but more than that. It was that morose tone I'd heard when I spoke with him this summer. Still, I didn't trust him. Other than that morning after his and Bella's break up, he'd never apologized for anything. This was all a trick. He was just saying what he needed to say to get me to come out of the room. Once I opened the door, it would be more of the same shit that drove me into hiding to begin with.

I heard something sliding against the door. What the fuck? I couldn't figure it out. Was he trying to lure me out by making me curious? Well, I wasn't falling for it.

"Jasper, do you really feel that way? Do you think that living with me is a mistake? Am I really that much of a dick? Look, I'll stop. I didn't realize this was going to bother you so much. Damn it, why won't you say anything?"

I heard a thud. If he thought punching things was going to get me out of my room, he could think again.

Everything got strangely silent. Neither he nor I said anything for a long time. I knew I was acting like a child, but I got a strange satisfaction out of this resistance, this refusal to talk to him. Besides, I knew that if we did talk, he'd manage to charm me, the way he usually did. He'd make me feel foolish for thinking what I did. He'd win and I'd lose again.

Eventually I got bored just lying there and closed my eyes. I must have drifted off to sleep, because the next thing I knew it was afternoon. My stomach was grumbling and my bladder needed emptying again. Like it or not, I had to leave the room.

I walked to the door and slowly turned the knob, disengaging the lock and freeing the door latch. I didn't even have to pull the door open, as something was pushing it from the other side. I looked down to see Edward sliding down to the floor into my room. He must have fallen asleep leaning against the door. He jerked awake as soon as he hit the floor and looked up at me, confused.

"Jasper?"

"Edward? What the fuck are you doing?"

He pushed himself up to a sitting position, then stood up.

"I didn't want you to leave without talking."

"So you fucking posted yourself at my door as a sentry? I guess there's a reason why this feels like a fuckin' prison," I couldn't keep the bitterness out of my voice as I tried to move past him. He put a restraining hand on my arm.

"Jas, come on, don't go."

"Edward, I'm wearing my fuckin' boxers. Where the hell do you think I'm gonna go? I need to piss, so unless you feel like cleaning up the living room, let go of me."

He released me and I walked into the bathroom. I pissed, flushed and washed my hands and face, before taking a long, hard look in the mirror. This was a great fuckin' start to a brand new year. Classes hadn't even started yet and I already felt like I wanted it all to be over. I slammed my fist down on the vanity in frustration. It didn't help. My hand just hurt like a mother. Fuck!

I walked out into the kitchen, looked in the fridge and found some lasagna in a microwaveable container. Esme had divided her creation into single-serve portions. Edward's mother was always thoughtful like that. If only some of those genes could have been passed on to her freakin' son.

I put the lasagna in the microwave and grabbed a bottle of beer, opening the top. As soon as the microwave was done, I grabbed the fork, the lasagna and my beer and headed for my room.

"Wait," Edward said urgently. He'd been watching me warily from the living room. He looked so damned hurt, all I wanted to do was wrap my arms around him and comfort him, which I knew would be exactly the wrong thing for me to do. I needed to hold on to my anger. It was the only thing that gave me strength.

"We can't just leave things like this," he said. "There has to be a way to work things out. Whatever it is I'm doing that you hate so much, I can change."

I sighed and sat at the dinette table. Edward joined me and watched as I ate.

"This will never work," I said quietly but firmly after taking a few bites. "I had a feeling it would be like this, and I was stupid to ignore it. You're my best friend and there's a lot of shit I would do for you that I wouldn't do for anyone else, but I won't be ordered around anymore and I won't be manipulated into doing things that just don't feel right. And I can't live with someone who so obviously doesn't give a fuck about my feelings and harasses me for my opinions."

He looked down at the table for a long time. I went back to eating and drinking my beer. I finished, and was about to push away from the table when he looked up.

"Jasper, it's not like that. I don't . . . Of course I care about your feelings and opinions."

He looked hurt again, like I'd done him some great injustice by saying what I'd said. Except that I knew I told him the truth. If he didn't see it then he was living in some sort of a fuckin' fantasy world.

"You only care when they coincide with yours. When I have an independent thought you slam me down or lash out. I can't live like that all year. I need to get out."

His head snapped up, his eyes filled with alarm.

"You're moving out?" he asked, and there was genuine fear in his voice.

I sighed. "Eventually. I have to find somewhere else to live first. There's no room at the dorms anymore. And I'll find someone to take my place here, or else I'll get a job so I can cover this rent along with wherever else I'll be staying."

"Jas," he grabbed my hand. A jolt of electricity went through me and I looked down first at his hand and then at the suspicious bulge starting to grow between my legs. Oh, come on! You're fucking 19 years old, not 14. You can't possibly be growing hard now, in the middle of this conversation, just because Edward touched your hand! Think of something, anything, to make this go away! I couldn't think. My mind was coming up blank. I snatched my hand away. Edward looked like I'd hit him.

"Fuck, Jasper, like you said, it's been less than a day. You can't just decide to move out. Shouldn't I at least get a chance to fix things, to change whatever it is you can't handle about living here? I already told you, we'll keep our doors closed. I won't ever bring that stuff up again."

I took a long look at him. I didn't know what to think. Thank God at least I was distracted enough for my erection to disappear.

"It just doesn't make sense, Edward. Last night you were going on and on about the guys next door and how I shouldn't associate with them because they may like other guys, and then you're telling me to come into your room and . . . Fuck! It doesn't make sense. Unless . . ." Flashes of my conversation with Peter were suddenly coming back to me. Was it possible that Edward really wanted me? I had to find out. "Are you trying to tell me something? I mean, are you . . . do you . . . ? 'Cause you know it doesn't matter to me. I wouldn't care. You can tell me and nothing will change." Well, I wasn't being completely honest. If he suddenly told me that he was into guys or into me, everything would change, but I sure as fuck wasn't about to admit that to him before he answered my question. Hope welled up in my chest. Could Peter have been right?

"What?" he looked at me, confused, and then a flash of recognition passed across his face and he stood up abruptly and walked away, his face horrified. "Fuck no!" he yelled. "Didn't we already cover this? What we did, that had nothing to do with . . . I fuck women! I'm not a goddamn fag. Jesus!"

Hope was crashing and burning inside me, but I knew I couldn't let it show. I had to calm him down.

"Okay, Edward. It was just a question. I didn't mean to imply anything. I was just asking, letting you know that I didn't give a fuck either way. And I don't care. And that's part of the problem. Because I may want to be friends with the guys down the hall, and you'll freak out and throw me out anyway. You as much as said so last night. So I might as well save us both the trouble and move out now, in a planned way, so we're both covered. You know?"

At the mention of me moving out Edward calmed instantly and came back to the table.

"Look," he said, "I was an idiot about that. I didn't mean . . . I won't try to tell you who to be friends with, all right? I don't give a damn, I guess. I just want us to stay friends. We've been friends too fucking long to let shit like this ruin it, you know? I just want us to do this fucking college thing together. I don't wanna live with someone else and have to call or text you to find out how your day went or if you have a date or what classes you're taking or if you wanna see a movie or grab a beer or hit the gym. I guess maybe I can be a real asshole sometimes, but just call me out on it. I'll try to change. Just don't leave, OK?"

What could I say when he was standing there, as close to begging as I'd ever seen him? He was a shit, but now that my anger was gone all those feelings I had for him came bubbling up to the surface and all I wanted to do was re-assure him and take away that look of pain and uncertainty that has settled on his face. He should never look like that. He should always be the strong, decisive, controlled Edward. I needed to do what I had to do to bring my Edward back.

"I won't leave," I said. "Just back off a little, OK? Give me some space to be myself. Don't always fuckin' push so much."

He nodded, looking relieved. I stood up, intending to go back to the kitchen, but he grabbed me and pulled me into a hug. His hold was tight and grew tighter when I tried to pull back to put more space between us. Even with the weight and muscle mass he'd lost over the summer, he still outmatched me physically, so I stopped trying to move away and just gave in, wrapping my arms around his back as well. His chin was resting on my shoulder, so I couldn't see his face, but I turned my head a bit, his unruly bronze hair tickling my nose, and I carefully inhaled his scent, relishing this moment of closeness, all the while terrified that my body would betray me with a full staff boner brought on by the proximity. Fortunately, the hug only lasted seconds before he released me.

"Thanks, Jas," he said simply.

"Yeah," I replied and walked back to the kitchen, tossing the beer bottle and throwing the container into the dishwasher.

"I'd better get dressed and hit the bookstore, get my books and some shirts and shit. Gotta show some school pride, right? You wanna come with me?"

"Sure," he readily agreed. "My car's in the garage. We can drive."

"All right. Give me a few minutes."

I went back to my room to put on a shirt and jeans. So there it was, I'd just agreed to stay in this apartment with Edward. All hopes of coming out were now tossed out the window. I wondered if I made the right choice, all the while knowing that there never was a choice. I would do anything he asked, especially if not doing it was going to cause him pain. I didn't know why, but it was clear now that he needed me here, enough to make concessions to keep me from leaving, so of course I would stay. And with time maybe things would change. He'd make new friends, maybe even find a girl he'd want to live with next year. My heart constricted painfully at that thought, but deep inside I knew that would be good for him. He needed someone he could love to take my place, someone who made him a priority over themselves. Maybe I could even help him find the right girl. After all, I could only continue to be there for him for so long before I had to move on for myself. Peter had been wrong and there was no hope for me with Edward, so eventually I would have to take the advice I'd tried to give Greg. But I would be there for him now, this year. My own life would just have to wait a little longer.