Chapter 2

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Chapter 2: Friends with Benefits

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He turned his withering look to me.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"What?" Peter sounded confused.

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

Peter looked at Edward in disgust.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Edward shook his head.

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

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

"I'm gonna go to UW."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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