EPOV
Of course I woke up early Friday morning. It felt as if my body was vibrating, and my mind was instantly alert. My eyes popped open, and I lifted my head to peer over Jasper's pillow; a quick glance at my alarm clock showed me it was 7:49.
Fucking great.
I sighed and let my head flop back onto the pillow, squeezing my eyes shut, but it was no use. I knew it was pointless, so after a few moments of trying to calm the thoughts racing through my mind, I sat up and scrubbed my hands over my face.
As I stretched my arms over my head, the stinging twinge along my ribs reminded me of why that was a bad idea, and I climbed out of bed, heading to the bathroom to take a look at my newest ink.
It was my largest piece by far, if not the most intricate, and the plain black ink stained my ribs, reminding me at once of the midnight phoenix on Jasper's chest. For the first time, I wondered what he would think of it...and how I would explain it.
If he sees it, that is…
My jaw clenched at the possibility that Jasper and I might never reach the point where he would see my bare chest again. The thought made me ache and left my gut feeling hollow, strengthening my resolve at once that we had to work this out some way.
I just didn't know how.
Going to drive myself fucking insane this way.
I sighed at my reflection and pushed away from the counter, going to turn on the shower. My chest wasn't the only thing that was aching; my bouncing morning wood was a painful reminder that it had been nearly two weeks since I'd had any sort of release, and I was suddenly unsure if it was a good idea to see Jasper tonight in that state.
Probably attack the man as soon as he steps in the door.
I groaned at the thought, at the memories that came flooding back to me – his scent, his taste, his noises of desire. I'd been holding thoughts of Jasper at bay, but I was swept away in the deluge as the levy broke, and before I had made a conscious decision, I was standing beneath the warm spray of my shower with my stiff cock in hand. My breath was panting, my thighs clenching, and I gave up the fight, allowing images of Jasper to guide me and spur me on.
My hand was strong and sure along my length – familiar – letting me feel some small manner of control as I worked myself over. Still, my pleasure came from thoughts of Jasper's hard body, and it was his name that spilled from my lips as I exploded, sending my release sputtering against the shower wall to be uselessly washed down the drain.
I tried not to think about what an apt metaphor that might be for our relationship as I caught my breath and straightened. I tried to force my mind blank as I quickly cleaned myself, taking care not to get soap or shampoo on the tattoo. I was as dispassionate as possible, but it just didn't come naturally to me. I had never been able to distance myself and look at things rationally, and that seemed especially true where Jasper was concerned.
So, despite all my attempts to banish him from my mind so I could decide what made the most sense for me logically, he crept back in constantly. I imagined his face as I dried and dressed, seeing him contrite and hurt, his eyes haunting me.
I pushed the image away angrily. He had no right to make me feel sorry for him. I was the innocent one. So why the hell did I want to weep for him, too?
Fucking ridiculous.
The sound of his broken, hesitant voice on the phone kept me company as I tried to concentrate throughout the day. It was there as I played the piano, as I did some laundry, and as I worked in the darkroom. I would buy a few minutes reprieve before he was back, begging entry with only a silent beseeching of his eyes.
Everything I did to occupy my time was half-hearted and fleeting, even when I went out on my balcony with my guitar in hand. That proved to be the worst idea I'd had all day, as I found my eyes stinging and blurring as memories of both Jasper and Alistair threatened to overwhelm me. I hastily packed the guitar back into its case and shoved it in the closet, determined yet again not to think of him that day.
It didn't last.
As the afternoon wore on, I began to develop a sort of calm focus. I wasn't sure where it came from, exactly, but it seemed to be some sort of automatic self-preservation mechanism. I sat at my computer, searching the internet as I tried to decide what to make us for dinner. I didn't want to order in, though I couldn't really say why. In fairness, I probably should have just ordered a pizza and been done with it, but I wanted something homemade.
Something that would be comforting for Jasper, if I were being honest.
I considered calling Emily for suggestions, but as I turned the phone over in my hands, I rejected the idea. I didn't want to involve anyone else. Kate was right, in a lot of ways. With Alistair, I'd grown too accustomed to talking to everyone else about my fears and our problems. I didn't want that with Jasper.
This needed to be between the two of us.
I took a calming breath and clicked through recipes randomly, looking for anything that seemed….wholesome. A tiny voice in the back of my mind berated me for wanting to take care of him when I wasn't even sure he would be in my life after tonight, but I trudged on doggedly. I didn't want to entertain the possibility of a world without Jasper – which should've been my first clue that my mind was already made up.
After about an hour of searching, I printed out a few recipes and snatched them from the printer. I folded them and stuck them in my jeans pocket before stuffing my feet into my shoes and grabbing my keys.
A quick trip to the grocery store did nothing to settle my mind; a feeling of nervous anticipation was growing in my stomach, churning and expanding uncomfortably. When I returned home, I unloaded my few sacks of groceries in the kitchen and set to work.
I'd barely eaten all day – just a snack here and there – so I felt a little light-headed. I had no appetite, but I took a few minutes to make myself a small sandwich just the same. I choked it down, easing its passage with a beer that I hoped would help soothe my nerves as well. I put my dishes in the sink and then set the alarm on my phone for 5:45, wanting to be sure to give myself enough time to clean up a bit before Jasper got there. I wanted to look good for him, though I tried to pretend it was just so I could look like I was in control.
Five o'clock found me chopping and simmering, wiping sweat from my brow as I watched several dishes at once. The kitchen was filled with the sounds of sauce bubbling and my knife meeting the cutting board. The bustle of activity was enough to finally engage my mind, letting me spend long moments in blissful unawareness.
When the alarm rang, I jumped, wiping my hands on a dish towel before I pulled the phone from my pocket to silence it.
"Oh, fuck."
My heart began to thump frantically, a lump forming in my throat, and I leaned against the counter, staring at the face of my phone without thought. I was breathing shallowly when the little digital numbers told me a full three minutes had passed since my alarm sounded. "Fuck," I breathed again and then pushed away from the counter, shoving the phone back into my pocket before I headed upstairs.
In my bedroom, I went into the closet and searched through my shirts. It was ridiculous – I was looking too hard for a shirt that would make me look casual and as if I'd been in it all day…instead of wearing the one I'd been in all day. I rejected several and then pulled down a simple sage green henley.
Might as well play up the eyes.
I took a deep breath, exhaling audibly, and went into my bathroom, where I stripped down to the waist and cleaned up as best I could. I'd shaved earlier in the day, but my five o'clock shadow gave me a rugged look. Thankfully, I thought it made me look tougher than I felt, and the tightness around my eyes simply added to the effect. I methodically brushed my teeth and washed my face before getting dressed again and checking my appearance in the mirror.
When I had somewhat tamed my hair and was relatively happy with how I looked, I went back downstairs and into the kitchen. Everything was just finishing up, and I spent the next few minutes transferring our food to serving dishes and moving everything into the dining room. I considered – and rejected – eating at the bar. This was too important, and there were too many memories of happier times with Jasper in my kitchen.
I finished before Jasper arrived, so I had a few minutes to pace my sitting room. I walked back and forth, my fingertips trailing along my piano with each passage, as I worried. Maybe he wasn't coming. Maybe he'd changed his mind. Maybe I missed my chance to tell him…anything. How angry I was. How he'd hurt me.
How I loved him more than I'd ever loved anyone and I just wanted everything with him.
Get yourself under control, man.
Jasper was coming. I knew he was. And I wasn't going to solve anything by throwing myself at him and telling him it didn't matter. It did fucking matter, and I was hurt, and he needed to know that shit. I couldn't pretend everything was fine just because I was scared as hell of losing him.
"Shit!" I jumped when the doorbell rang.
I took a few seconds to just stand there, motionless, as I tried to calm myself down. This was the first time I would see Jasper since he told me what he'd done, and I felt strangely torn between feeling nauseated and excited.
Swallowing, I took a steadying breath and then started making my way to the front door. I tried to remind myself that I was the one who had been wronged. I deserved answers. I deserved apologies. And I damn well better get them.
My jaw was set and my arms tense, when I opened the door. Jasper was standing there, staring at the ground with a bottle of wine clutched in both hands. The moment I saw him, I felt a strange tugging, as if my entire being wanted to close the distance between us and take him in my arms just so I could feel whole again. I resisted, though, and we stood in silence for a protracted moment.
Even as I tried to harden my heart and demand the things I knew I deserved, my eyes drank in his form, trying to quench the thirst I felt for him. He was wearing a deep blue button down shirt with the top button undone and the sleeves rolled up to his elbows. I was so caught up in tracing the lines of his forearms with my eyes that it took me a moment to realize he was wearing his Starry Night tie – the same one he'd been wearing the first time I met him. It was hanging loosely around his neck, making my fingers itch to wrap around it and yank him to me. I had missed him so much that I physically ached, but still I stood my ground.
Until he looked up.
His hair was messy and hanging in his eyes, which were clouded and dark. The storm raging in the bottomless blue was one of uncertainty and hopelessness, and in that instant, it didn't matter how I hurt or what I deserved because I couldn't take the sight of the man I loved dying inside. He shifted his weight nervously, and his Adam's apple bobbed as he swallowed. He didn't say anything at all, but as I watched, his hands tightened around the bottle and his eyes squeezed shut.
Oh, Jazz…
I didn't speak, either. I took the three steps needed to reach him and wrapped my arms around his shoulders, pressing my body against his as I pulled him close. He froze for a moment, and then his arms were around my waist, the bottle of wine digging into my lower back. He shuddered, his whole body shaking; it felt as if he were trying to squeeze me in two.
I moved my hand to cup his cheek and lifted his lips to mine, feeling the constriction in my chest relax when he returned my kiss eagerly. He let me lead, but when my lips parted his, he moaned loudly as our tongues brushed. Any doubt I might have had over how he felt about me was erased in his needy reaction.
When I ended our kiss at long last, his lips followed, insistent against mine until, suddenly, he stopped and pulled back. "I'm sorry," he murmured. I wasn't sure if he meant for being overly eager or for everything that had happened – I thought both – but I felt more hope that we would be alright than I had since I returned home.
I swallowed back my automatic, "It's okay," because there was a hell of a lot we needed to talk about before it would be okay. Instead, I said honestly, "I missed you. Come inside?"
He blinked several times as if unsure how to take my words, and then he gave me a tentative, melancholy smile before he stepped past me. I closed the door carefully, taking a little longer than necessary to lock it before turning around. Jasper was sitting on the bench, studiously removing his shoes with the bottle of wine sitting next to him. His eyes were focused on his work, and I knew he must feel the same tension I did.
I'm sorry, Jazz…I wish I could magically fix this.
The only way we would be able to fix us was to talk. A lot. I didn't really know how to start, though, so I just picked up the bottle and said, "Thank you…" as I glanced over the label and then gave him a small smile of my own.
He nodded and ran his fingers through his hair. As I cleared my throat and asked him to follow me, I was reminded intensely of the first time he was in my house. Tonight, I felt the same anxious uncertainty, but fuck if I didn't have a hell of a lot more to lose. Looking back, it made my worries that day seem trivial and ridiculous.
Very little was said as Jasper followed me to the kitchen, where I pulled down two glasses and opened the bottle of wine. I picked the glasses up between the fingers of one hand, the bottle of wine in the other, and turned to find Jasper staring at me with a pained expression on his face.
"Jazz?" I could hear the confusion in my voice as I wondered if I'd done something wrong.
He shook his head. "Ba-" He winced, cutting himself off before continuing again, "Edward, you didn't have to do this. I didn't mean for you to…I should…I…" His jaw clenched as he stopped talking with effort.
"I know." I nodded toward the dining room, but when he didn't start moving, I walked past him to lead the way. I paused briefly and brushed my lips against his. "I wanted to."
The edges of his eyes were red, and he looked so goddamn tired, and all I wanted to do was take him upstairs to my bed and make love to him and hold him as he slept.
But I couldn't.
So we went into the dining room, and we ate pork loin and twice-baked potatoes with all the rest of the comfort food I'd made in silence. I was beginning to wonder if I would ever speak during a meal again, as it had been exactly the same with both Mike and Kate. It just seemed like there was too much to say, and it was too weighty for dinner chatter. Jasper must've felt the same way, so our conversation was limited to his compliments and my reassurances that I'd wanted to cook for us.
His usual moans and sighs of approval were audible, and I grew more and more frustrated that we couldn't just be us, that one kiss had changed everything so much. I wanted to just say forget it, but the thought of Jasper's lips on another man's twisted my stomach, and I wiped my hands on my napkin, dropping it onto my plate as I put my elbows on the table and rested my forehead against the heels of my palms.
Silence reigned in the room until I heard the scrape of Jasper's chair. His breathing sounded ragged, but I couldn't make myself look up. I felt his movement as he reached out to take my plate, and when his footsteps faded into the kitchen, I lifted my head at last.
Stop being a fucking pussy. Either go start fixing this or give the fuck up now.
I pushed away from the table and picked up both our wine glasses, carrying them to the kitchen with renewed determination. Jasper was washing the dishes by hand, but I walked over to the sink and murmured, "Don't worry about that right now."
He nodded, not saying a word as he washed his hands and turned off the water. He dried his hands methodically and then turned around, his eyes – shimmering with too much moisture – meeting mine. I could tell he was trying to school his emotions, and I knew the time had come. We couldn't spend all night like this.
I mustered a small smile and said, "What can I get you to drink?"
"Whatever you want is fine," he said, his voice so defeated and small that I nearly growled. I studied him for a moment, taking in the slump of his shoulders and the dullness in his eyes.
That wasn't my Jasper.
Now that I knew a little of what he'd been through, I recognized the signs. He was capitulating, giving in, and I did not fucking want that. Not at all.
I stalked over, pinning him against the counter as I kissed his neck, trying to let him feel the passion and love I still had for him. My hands went to his hips, and I whispered, "This isn't about what I want. We're both in this, baby."
I wasn't talking about just the drink, and he knew it. He inhaled sharply at the term of endearment, his head rolling to the side to give me more room. I gave him what he wanted, my lips caressing his neck before I pulled back, putting some much-needed space between us. Our eyes locked until finally he nodded, a little of the life returning to his eyes as he murmured, "Wine."
I wanted to kiss him when I heard his strong voice without a hint of question in it. Instead, I simply nodded in return and picked up both glasses and the bottle. "Come on…let's go somewhere a little more comfortable?"
When we walked into the den, we both took our seats on the couch. I poured a second glass of wine for each of us and took a sip before turning to him. I had no idea where to start, but I opened my mouth anyway.
And promptly closed it.
I sighed, standing and walking toward the fireplace. The tulips on the mantle caught my eye, and I smiled reflexively, my gaze focusing on the one red blossom.
He loves me, I reminded myself. And it seemed as if he were getting closer to being able to say so.
I leaned down, spending a few moments fiddling with the fireplace before the fire sprang to life. It was October and chilly, if not cold, and – besides – I needed something to do with my hands. When I turned around again, I saw that Jasper's eyes were focused on the tulips on the mantle as well, and he seemed to be blushing faintly.
"Thank you again," I said as I returned to my seat. "For the flowers," I clarified when he didn't say anything.
"You're welcome," he said quietly at long last. He sipped his wine, his eyes darting to mine before they focused on the burgundy liquid in his glass. "I was glad you knew they were from me."
I glanced at him, the corner of my lips lifting. Who the hell else would they be from?
He looked up at me and gave a small smile before nodding once and looking down again, licking his lips. "I wanted to send a card," he said huskily, "but I just…I couldn't find the words to…That little piece of paper is just so goddamn small and…" He trailed off, his shrug letting me know he wasn't going to finish that thought.
I picked up my wine glass, swirling the liquid in it as I watched it catch the light. I couldn't look at him as I asked, "So…did you say it with the flowers instead?"
He didn't answer, and the silence stretched for so long that I began to wonder if I'd gone too far…if openly addressing the question was pressing him too hard for something he wasn't ready to give yet. Before I could begin to berate myself, he took a deep breath and said, "God, Edward, I'm so fucking sorry. I can't even begin to…" He swallowed, shaking his head, and I was surprised by the sharp pain stabbing my chest. I'd thought I was over the initial pain, but it came back just as fresh as I listened to him try to explain.
"I don't even know what happened. Not really. I spent all last week just…just goddamn miserable. I felt hollow and lonely, and I haven't felt like that in such a long time. It scared the hell out of me. I didn't know what to do. It's no excuse. I know it's not, and I can only imagine what you must think…how you must feel." He broke off abruptly, his voice choked before he cleared his throat and began again. I sat there, torn between fascination and horror as I listened. I wanted to know this – needed to know it – but I wanted to do anything but hear it.
The first time he mentioned Jason, I knew he was the guy. Jasper stumbled over his name as he told me about meeting him at the elevator in his building, and my jaw clenched at the thought that he lived so close. I half-listened, taking it all in but trying not to dwell on it because whenever I thought too much about it, I felt a strong urge to maul. To get up off this couch and go find this guy and kick his ass, even though I knew – rationally – that none of it was his fault.
But he'd touched my Jasper. And thinking of it that way hurt a hell of a lot less than thinking of my Jasper touching him.
I felt a morbid curiosity mixed with dread as I listened to Jasper describe the rest of his week and how he'd had trouble concentrating. When he told me about deciding to go out that night, I wanted to go back in time and call him before he left his apartment…plead with him…do anything to make what happened next just not happen. But that was, of course, impossible, so instead I sat there and listened helplessly as he described drinking with Jason.
It was all so easy for me to picture, and I found myself wondering if he'd worn his easy smile…that playful one he wore when he flirted – the one I'd thought was for me alone. I felt as if I were going through it with him, feeling those unseen eyes as I shifted uncomfortably. My skin was prickling, and I just knew instinctively that we were getting close to that moment. Jasper didn't seem to be leaving out anything at all, and I was at once grateful and…well…pissed off.
The thought of that fucker buying Jasper blow jobs and making his intentions so transparent needled at me, especially since I knew Jasper went along with it. My eyes closed as he told me about dancing with Jason, and I could hear the sincerity in his voice when he whispered that he imagined it was me…that it was with thoughts of me that he kissed him.
My face was buried in my hands, my elbows propped on my knees, and I willed him to stop, to please let that be all. My throat felt raw, and my chest ached keenly as if something in me had been ripped out and tossed aside like so much trash.
The hurt dulled minutely when he told me about realizing his mistake and running out of the bar. I could hear the panic in his voice even now as he talked about somehow making it home. I wanted to cry when he told me he heard my phone call but couldn't answer. I remembered that call all too clearly, remembered wondering where he was and what he was doing. The knowledge that he'd just returned from making out with some other guy brought everything vividly into focus, and my fists clenched as I lowered them to my sides and sat up, resting my head on the back of the couch as I stared blindly at the ceiling.
Jasper stopped talking at long last, and we sat in silence. I felt overwhelmed. I had known I was in love with Jasper, and I had thought that I was ready for the power that gave him over me, but knowing it was vastly different from feeling this excruciating pain as a result.
Ironically, my mind was blank. He'd just inundated me with more information than I'd really wanted to know, but I couldn't think of any of it. It was just too much.
Gradually, I became aware of small vibrations in the couch. From the corner of my eye, I saw Jasper's knee bouncing incessantly, and I shifted my attention to him without giving any outward sign. He was breathing rapidly, his whole body tense, and it was then I realized that while I was wallowing in misery, he was dying of anxiety.
I sighed. Then I reached out, putting my hand on his knee to still it as I said gently, "Jasper, baby, calm down…" I rubbed his knee with my thumb, trying to soothe him, and I felt the truth of my words when I added, "It'll be okay. We'll be okay."
I looked at him then, my eyes finding his just as he lifted his face. I thought our expressions must be similar – hurt and fear and confusion mixed with concern – and I decided on the spot that, no matter what else we became, we had to start by being honest. We'd wasted too much time and caused too many problems for ourselves by tiptoeing and hiding.
I squeezed his thigh once and took a deep breath before turning so that I could face him. I shifted toward him, pulling one leg onto the couch so I was sitting half-Indian style with my knee pressed against his thigh. His hand settled tentatively on my calf, and I covered his fingers with my own, letting him know that the contact was welcome.
"Baby, I can't lie. I'm hurt, and I'm pissed off, and I'm really fucking confused." With each statement I made, his eyes tightened, a sign of the way he winced internally at my words, and I watched as he withdrew again, folding in on himself as his shoulders slumped defensively. I reached out automatically, needing to stop him – needing to make him see that I wasn't that fuckhole Paul. My hand cupped his cheek, but when he didn't look up, I slipped my fingers beneath his chin and gently urged him to face me. I leaned in and pressed my lips against his chastely, lingering for just a moment because I needed so badly to feel him.
I forced myself to pull away, letting my hand drop back to cover his as I reminded myself that I couldn't just ignore the problems we had, not if I wanted us to have a chance. My voice was deeper, a little gravelly as I said, "Jazz, as long as you're willing to work on this, I am, too. But before we can try, I have to know if you're really in this – if this…" I wrapped my hand around his and lifted them both, gesturing between the two of us. "Is what you really want…because I can't take not knowing what will happen when we're apart. I can't live with wondering if you're with someone else." My eyes were trained on his when I finished, "Because I won't be."
We both heard the finality – the certainty – in my voice. My chest constricted as I admitted what I'd never had the courage to say to him before – that I was his and his alone. I realized I was still watching my words, still being careful of the overt declarations, but the idea, at least, was out there. Now I just had to see what Jasper would do with it.
He watched me in silence for a moment, and then his eyes squeezed shut, and he shook his head, sending my heart plummeting. But his words gave me hope when his husky voice said, "You have no idea…how…I want to be with you so damn much. I've never…I feel…I-I want…" He clenched his jaw suddenly, and it seemed to take tremendous effort for him to open his eyes, but his gaze was steady when it locked on mine. "I fucked up. I fucked up more than I ever have before, and I've been so goddamn scared. And I…I am fucked up. T-there's something wr-wrong with m-m-me."
I'd never heard Jasper stutter before, and the sound made me want to just press him back against the couch and quiet his lips with mine, but I sat there, frozen, as I listened to him bare himself, letting me in as he never had before.
He ran his fingers through his hair, tangling them there and pulling so hard that I worried he'd hurt himself. He muttered darkly under his breath, and then his fierce blue eyes were back on me, pinning me in place as he said something so close to what I longed to hear from him. "I care about you, Edward. A lot. And I'm scared that maybe I can't even give you everything you're asking. Maybe I'm not even…whole…enough, but I want to try."
His eyes were tortured, his lips twisted with fear, and his struggle was palpable. I hurt for him instead of because of him, and I did the only thing I could think of: I shifted to my knee and took his face between my hands, pulling him closer to kiss him with everything I had – my passion, my fear, my love…my hope. I just had to stop the flow of words, stop the way he was blaming and convincing himself that he wasn't good enough for me.
He was everything to me.
This time when we parted, I stayed close, my thumbs running along his cheekbones as I whispered, "Jasper, you have no idea how much I care about you…and that's my fault. I'm so sorry I haven't told you…that I haven't let you know what you mean to me. We're both scared, baby – believe me. But that's something we've got to get past if we're going to work. It doesn't have to be overnight. I'm not asking you to pick out rings with me tomorrow…" Unless you want to because god knows I want forever with you. I shoved the errant - and utterly true - thought away, determined to finish. "I just have to know you're trying and that you want this. And the first step to that is talking, I think." I gave him a wry smile, wondering just how much of this shit could've been avoided if we'd talked – or if it could've been at all. "We need to know each other's histories…how we ended up where we are now…all that stuff that we've been too afraid to ask about."
He swallowed slowly, his eyes darting back and forth between mine before he nodded at last. The tension in my shoulders relaxed as I saw that he really was trying.
We're in for a long fucking night.
Despite the uncomfortable conversations I knew were coming, I felt…happy. Relieved. I wasn't sure how things would work out between us or how long it might take, but I was hopeful. Finally.
I ran my fingers through my hair as I glanced over at Jasper, giving him a small smile. I reached out and took his hand, rubbing my thumb along his. "Will you stay tonight?"
He didn't even think about it. He just nodded, his eyes still moving frantically over my face before he smiled. It was just a small curve of his lips, but it was enough to make me lean over and kiss him again. I was jittery, keyed up, and needed a minute to myself - just some time to try to get myself under control. I told him I'd be right back and went upstairs, my heart and feet a little lighter than they had been all week.
In my room, I looked around for a reason...for some excuse why I would've needed to come up here. In truth, there was nothing, but a moment of inspiration struck, and I went to the dresser and grabbed two pairs of pajama pants. I changed into mine and stuffed my jeans back on the shelf in my closet before straightening up my room a little. I hadn't expected Jasper to spend the night, and my bedroom had been the one place I'd avoided as I cleaned.
As I was straightening up, my eyes fell on the single item out of place on my nightstand - Jasper's sketchpad. I stood debating for a moment, wondering if I should put it in the drawer out of sight, but in the end, I left it just as it was. Jasper and I had gotten to where we were by not facing the truth, and the truth was that Mike had let me in on a very important piece of Jasper's history as well as given me a glimpse into Jasper when I wasn't around. Hopefully, Mike had told him what he'd done, but if he hadn't, I wasn't going to hide it.
Once it at least looked like I hadn't been wallowing in misery for a week, I threw the extra pair of pants over my shoulder and headed back downstairs. I watched the way Jasper's eyes traced a hungry line from my bare feet up my legs, lingering at my hips before moving to my chest. He licked his lips, his eyes finally meeting mine, and I shifted my weight, holding out the pajama pants to keep myself from acting on the darkened desire I saw on his face.
As much as I wanted him – and god knows I did – I was worried that if we fell into bed right at that moment, we might never address all those things we needed to talk about. I don't know if Jasper sensed that, too, or if he was simply waiting for me to lead, but he took the pants from me and shuffled uncomfortably for a moment before excusing himself. I listened to his footsteps retreat down the hallway and sighed, running my fingers through my hair as I plopped down on the couch again with my legs sprawled in front of me.
What a fucking train wreck.
When he came back into the den, I was sitting on the couch with my wine glass in hand. He was wearing the pants and one of the thin, white tank tops he usually wore as an undershirt. He was carrying the rest of his clothes folded into a neat stack, which he dropped on the armchair. He sat down at the other end of the couch and turned, drawing his leg up in front of him so that he was sitting half-Indian style. We stared at each other in silence until he gave a tiny, nervous smile. I smiled in return and said, "Okay…so, umm…I'll start?"
His eyes lit up with curiosity – and a bit of relief – before he nodded slowly. "If you don't mind?"
I shook my head and drained the rest of my wine, setting the empty glass back on the table. My initial impulse was to apologize and babble about how I should've told him sooner, but we both knew that, and I recognized it for the stall tactic that it was. Instead, I steeled myself and said, "So, there's something I guess you need to know about. It's not something I like to talk about, but anyone who knows me well knows…well, fucking everything about it, so you should, too." I paused and looked over to find Jasper watching me with a pensive expression.
I shifted a little closer to him and took his hand. "Jasper, I want you to know me better than anyone…and it's kind of killed me to keep all of this from you. So I'm just going to say it and try to get it all out there, and if you don't understand anything, just…stop me or whatever, okay?"
His lips twitched into a small smile before it faded. He nodded again, rubbing his thumb along the back of my hand. I could feel his tension even through that simple touch, and I wanted so much to just…take it away. Make it better for him.
But I couldn't – at least, not yet. And I was beginning to grow more and more frustrated with all those things I just couldn't do.
It was so hard to start…so hard to know where to even begin with the mess that was my relationship with Alistair…so I started with meeting him in a little coffee shop in downtown Boston. I told him all about how charming Alistair had been, asking me out within five minutes of meeting him, and how I'd felt empowered by his obvious strong attraction.
"We started dating right away, even though I knew he was from England and was going back there. It wasn't like me…long distance has never worked for me because I need contact. I need someone here – someone to hold and talk to and…" I trailed off, realizing I was babbling. With a shake of my head, I got back to the heart of the story. Jasper listened quietly as I told him about Alistair spending that first summer here with me. Everything had seemed perfect, until he'd had to go back home.
"It was really hard to drop him off at the airport that first time, and I had no fucking idea what to do with myself when I got home. He was only going to be gone about three weeks, so it wasn't even that long, but it was just the idea that he was…gone. You know?"
I glanced over at Jasper, who nodded immediately and then frowned. "Well…no, I guess not," he said. He swallowed hard and seemed to struggle before he met my eyes. "Not until last week, anyway."
I filed away that little bit of information with what Mike had told me, beginning to realize that Jasper really was new to relationships. It skewed what I already knew about him, helping me to see him in a different light – and it sure helped make a hell of a lot of sense out of some of his reactions that I hadn't understood. I squeezed his hand but didn't comment, determined to finish my story now that I'd started. "I should've known then that something wasn't right with us. It was just too easy for him to go. We talked every day that first trip. I'd stay up all night to get his phone call, even though we only talked for five minutes sometimes."
I kept going, telling Jasper about how each trip seemed to increase the distance between us. Alistair was always excited to be in Boston, happy to be with me, but then he seemed just as content when we were apart.
"It started wearing on me, started making me wonder if I meant anything to him, but he always said I was being ridiculous. He told me that I meant something to him – of course I did. He loved me." I paused, still feeling the sting of those words despite the possibilities of real love with Jasper. "But I just never…I never felt like he was in it as deeply as I was. That was when I made my first mistake…"
I turned to face Jasper, needing him to hear and understand the gravity of my next words. They applied to us more than I ever wanted them to. "I talked to everyone about it. Everyone…but him. Kate knew I was afraid and that I wondered if I was just a piece of ass he kept in Boston." Jasper flinched, a tightening of his eyes, and I felt at once intrigued and regretful. "The rest of my friends knew I was unhappy. They talked to me about how different I was when he was gone, and I told them about my dissatisfaction. Everyone knew except the one person who needed to know."
I paused, pouring myself another glass of wine and taking a sip before I continued. My mouth was dry, whether from talking or from anxiety, I wasn't sure, but the wine didn't do a lot to help it. When I started speaking again, my thoughts carried me a slightly different direction. "I was so completely in love with him. Or, at least, I thought I was. I realize now that it's impossible to really love someone who won't let you. He had everything I was looking for – he was smart, funny, understanding about nearly everything, fucking sexy…" Jasper shifted uncomfortably, and I cursed myself for being an idiot.
I cleared my throat, apologizing with my eyes, before trying again. "Anyway, he was everything I wanted, but every single time he went away, I started wondering if I was anything he wanted. It was just so goddamn easy for him. I even visited him a few times in England, but it was like he was relieved when he was dropping me off at the airport to come home. It's not really in me to be paranoid, but our relationship made me that way. If he hung up the phone quickly, I wondered who was there. If his eyes wandered while we were at dinner, I wanted to know who he was looking at. I didn't like myself anymore, and I didn't like having a relationship through instant messengers and webcams."
I ran the fingers of my free hand through my hair, exhaling slowly. "It all came to a head one day after…" I swallowed, glancing at Jasper as I wondered just how honest we wanted to be. Fuck it. I couldn't look at him as I said it, though. "After we had sex. I asked him to move in with me, point-blank. We'd hinted and talked around things for so long, but I felt sure that if I asked him out right, he would say yes."
My smile was wry, ironic, as I heard Alistair's refusal as clearly as if he had just said it. "We argued. He reminded me that I knew how he felt – I knew he was happy just like we were. And he was right. I did know it. I just didn't understand it…and I damn sure didn't feel the same way. So after a few hours, I ended things. He tried to talk me out of it, telling me that there was no reason…that we were good together. But I couldn't do it anymore."
I slipped my hand out of Jasper's, running both hands through my hair as I rested my head on the back of the couch and stared up at the ceiling. The weight of my memories seemed oppressive, pressing me back into the cushions as I again fought despair. I forced myself to keep talking, my voice low and bitter. "It sucked that our relationship ended like that, but I moved past it. What I've never really been able to let go of is that worry…what if I'm not enough?"
I intended to say more, but my voice just gave out. I sat there, my unseeing eyes trained on the ceiling. Then, Jasper's weight was suddenly on me as he straddled my lap. His knees were spread to either side of my hips, and he took my face in both his hands, forcing me to look at him.
"Don't say that," he said sternly.
I waited for him to elaborate, but when he didn't, I covered his hands with mine, the warmth of his palms against my cheeks melting some of the anxiety I felt. I watched him as his eyes scanned my face. I don't know what he saw there, but he sighed and brushed the hair back from my forehead before kissing me chastely. His lips were hard against mine, and we were frozen like that for a moment before I couldn't help myself anymore.
I moaned loudly, my lips parting his as my tongue sought the sweet, salty taste of him that I'd been craving. My hands wrapped around his hips, bringing him closer; the needy whimper that escaped him was fuel for my own desire.
Somehow, I found myself lying back on the couch, one of my legs hanging off the edge. Jasper was between my thighs, letting me feel his hardening length as he kissed me hungrily. My hands roamed his back, drifting over his ass and back again as I tried to feel every inch of him. I knew I'd missed him but I hadn't realized quite how my body thirsted for his until I had just this one small drop.
As my senses returned to me, I began trying to slow us down. Guiding with my own kisses and touches, I calmed Jasper's frenzied pace until his mouth became gentle and loving against mine. It took everything in me to do it because my body was screaming, my cock aching for his touch while the rest of me simply wanted to be held by him. I needed him to be whole.
But we had a long way to go before we got there again, and we had a lot of talking that had to happen first.
I turned my head away, letting Jasper kiss along my jaw and my neck before he sat up, holding his hand out to me. The sight of his swollen, parted lips was nearly my undoing, but he smiled softly and whispered, "Sorry. I just couldn't…"
I nodded, smiling at him as I returned to my seat. "You don't have to apologize…but we do have a lot we still need to talk about, baby." Reaching out, I cupped his cheek, running my thumb along his lips.
"Edward, you have to know, right? That you're more than enough? If Alistair was that big a fucking idiot that he couldn't see what he had…" His blue eyes pleaded with me, trying to get me to understand and believe what he was trying to say.
"Thank you…" I murmured. I heard the disbelief in my tone. I needed for Jasper to know that it wasn't because I didn't believe him…it was just hard for me to accept those words at face value, especially considering what had just happened while I was away. I added, "Cuddles," and his face brightened, a beaming smile spreading across his lips as his cheeks tinged pink.
Fucking beautiful.
"You really are, Princess. I don't…I can't speak for Alistair, but I can tell you that you have so much to…to offer. You're just…you're…" He grew quieter, looking down to study the simple leather of my couch cushion. "Amazing."
I felt my own cheeks heat as the words warmed me, but I couldn't stop the question that bubbled up and out. "Then why?"
His tension was back at once, evidenced by his eyes tightening and his hand immediately tangling in his hair. He pulled at the strands, and I reached up, gently loosening his hold.
His eyes flitted to mine. "I'm so goddamn sorry. I…"
I leaned over to kiss him once, needing to stop the words. I didn't want to listen to it, not again. When I sat back, I whispered, "I know."
He nodded. "God, I guess it's my turn…" He sighed, his shoulders slumping as the air went out of him. His eyes focused on his knees, and his attention was completely turned away from me as he began. "Paul…I…" He stopped abruptly, shaking his head, and when he began again, he seemed to be trying a different approach. "I always knew I liked guys. When I was in about third grade, though, I learned it was 'wrong', and that sort of stuck with me through high school." He made a face and told me about his brother, Chuck, who had given him that particular education when he teased a boy in their neighborhood about being gay for popping a boner when all the boys were all swimming together.
Jasper talked about hiding how he felt, mimicking Chuck about hot girls so he could seem 'normal'. "Even though I could tell which girls were attractive, I was never attracted myself. Not once. So I'm not sure if it was from Chuck's coaching or if I just have an eye for it, but…" He shrugged, biting the inside of his cheek before he swallowed and started again. "By the time I hit high school, I was curious…" His eyes flashed to mine as he gave a mischievous smile. "And horny. I messed around with a few guys. Just casual stuff, nothing serious, but I'd done – and received – everything but actual sex before I headed to college."
I listened, fascinated at this insight into Jasper's history. It was so utterly different from my own, but I didn't want to interrupt to comment. I'd had no contact or experience of any kind until college, and even then, my first encounters came with boyfriends, with relationships. I would've loved to compare notes, so to speak, but I was afraid to get us off track…afraid that he would stop talking when I so desperately wanted him to keep going.
"When I came out to my family, Chuck just…didn't believe it. It was ridiculous. Like I'd make up something like that." Jasper rolled his eyes and huffed. "I moved to campus out…but not exactly proud. I'd thought it would be easy – no one had any preconceived notions about me or anything, so I thought I could just say, 'Hey, I'm gay,' and have that be it. Only…I couldn't. I was too chickenshit to tell my roommate, and without him knowing, I felt sort of trapped."
He paused, licking his lips and shifting in his seat. He opened his mouth as if to speak, and then snapped it closed and glanced at me. "You want a beer?"
I blinked at him, caught off guard by the rapid change in topic. "Umm…sure?"
He nodded and hopped up immediately, disappearing through the door. I could hear him muttering to himself, but I couldn't understand the words. Figuring he needed a minute – maybe he was finally getting to the really important parts – I stood up and went to the restroom. By the time I returned, he was sitting on his end of the couch, the foot closest to me propped on the coffee table as his knee bounced. He was sipping his beer, and I couldn't help but notice the way his posture closed me out.
I took my seat at the opposite end of the couch, trying to give him space, but I kept my body turned toward him, careful to make sure that I seemed as nonthreatening as possible. I picked up my open bottle, murmured my thanks, and he just nodded.
"I met Paul online." His voice was distant and dry. He was staring straight ahead, making me unsure that he was even really talking to me. I felt my breathing catch at the mention of the name as I was hit with the realization that I was finally going to hear what happened with Paul.
Oh, fuck…
"It was easy. Exciting. I played in a fantasy football league, and we'd sometimes stay up really late talking about trades and picks and how fucking lucky one of the guys was. Then he started…flirting, I guess. Just little comments here and there that made me wonder. One night he said something about breaking up with his boyfriend, and I stupidly sent back, 'You're gay?' He got kind of pissy and said if I had a problem with it, I could go fuck myself. But I was…god, I was fucking ecstatic. I don't even really remember the rest of that night, but we chatted for hours. I finally went to bed when he decided to pass out, but I barely slept. For the next several weeks, he was my entire world. I went to class, but as soon as I was back, I was online, just waiting to see him. And he was around just as much…it seemed like he was as into me as I was him."
Jasper rolled his eyes and shook his head, taking a long pull from his beer before starting up again. "He asked if he could see me…if it would be alright if he flew out. Of course I said yes. I couldn't wait for him to get there…" He muttered, "God, I was a fucking idiot…" under his breath.
He cleared his throat, glancing at me quickly before averting his gaze. I saw the pink blush along his cheeks and neck, and I ached to just hold him, to tell him that he wasn't an idiot and that I could completely understand his excitement.
"He rented a hotel room so he'd have a place to stay, and we made a lot of plans to go out and do stuff, but once he got to Austin, we just…never left his room. We made up for all those nights we'd spent wishing we were together, and…ahh…by the time he left, I…wasn't a virgin anymore." I watched his Adam's apple bob as he swallowed, running his fingers through his hair. His eyes were carefully away from mine when he put his other foot on the coffee table. He held his bottle in his left hand, picking at the knee of his pajama pants with his right.
"Well, sort of." His brow furrowed as he puzzled about something, but he didn't leave me wondering long. "He topped. Every time. It wasn't always that way, but it was that first weekend."
I nodded, though I wasn't sure he saw me. When he continued, his voice was lower, husky with emotion. "We kept that up for months…all the way through spring semester. Near the end, he asked me to move in with him…in Boston." Jasper glanced at me at last, and I nodded my encouragement. He shook his head, a look of disgust and regret on his face. "I did, obviously. And I was so goddamn stupid…telling my family how we were in love, and everything was going to be perfect, and…" He shook his head again, draining the last of his beer in one long pull. He put the empty bottle on the table and began once more.
"It was great at first. Really. He was around all the time, and I had the summer off, so I learned how to cook and kept the house clean and…everything. We…had sex a lot. After a few weeks, I topped for the first time, and we sort of switched off after that, even though it was obvious to me even then that it was whatever he wanted on any given night. And I was okay with that."
I could hear the regret, the self-recrimination in his voice, and I finally couldn't stand just sitting there, letting him think badly of himself. I shifted closer to him, pressing my knee against his thigh as I let my hand linger there. I didn't say anything, but Jasper gave me the tiniest of smiles. He said, "I didn't notice at first when things started to change. It was just really small stuff…he was late for dinner, or he didn't like what I fixed. Just normal stuff, you know?" He didn't pause for me to answer, so I just rubbed my thumb against his outer thigh. "Then he started getting…weird. Controlling, I guess. He wanted to know where I was going and who I was with, but he wouldn't tell me anything about where he was going. I wondered if maybe there was someone else, but when I confronted him about it...just...that was a really ugly fight. I should've known…I should've seen…"
He broke off abruptly, his jaw clenching. I reached out, cupping his cheek as I ran my thumb along his cheekbone. He gave no outward sign that he felt my touch, but he began speaking again, his voice so soft and weak that I had to strain to hear him. "The first time he hit me, I was…shocked doesn't even begin to cover it. There was no warning, nothing smaller that happened first. Just…bam." He held up his fist, mimicking a punch, and I winced.
That's one goddamn dead motherfucker.
Anger – rage – at Paul boiled inside my chest, making it difficult for me to breathe normally and focus on the man sitting in front of me. No one deserved what Jasper was describing – no one – but fuck if it didn't hit me harder to know it had happened to him. I couldn't imagine the Jasper I knew going through that. Hearing the confirmation of what Mike had hinted at made me want to weep, but I struggled to hold it together for him.
"I was fucking pissed. I hit him back, and then he floored me. Literally knocked me down and hit me until he was sure I wouldn't do it again." His voice was flat, dead, when he said, "And I didn't. Not ever again."
Jasper, baby, please…you don't have to do this. You don't have to go through this again…
The words I wanted to say died on my lips because as much as I didn't want to hear this, I needed to know. I needed to understand him if I was going to be with him…and there was nowhere else I wanted to be.
"That was a Wednesday…I skipped class for the rest of the week to give the bruises time to heal a little so I didn't look like…well, like I'd had the shit kicked out of me. Mike was a persistent fucker that next Monday, asking me what happened and if I was okay. I made up some story – I don't even know what – and it just…kept going. Same fucking thing over and over. Paul would come to me, apologizing, wanting to make up for it. He loved me. He wanted me. There was never any talk of me leaving. Where the hell would I go? I had no one."
Jasper made a small noise of disbelief before whispering, "And that fucker knew it."
He was quiet for too long this time, his eyes vacant as they remained motionless, centered on some random point in space. It was so silent and still that I flinched when he said, "It went on for so long…too damn long. I'd lost hope that it would stop. I just…I just wanted to make it through every day. Just one at a time. Some days were good, almost like they used to be. But most of the time, I did something wrong or he had a bad day or…" He shrugged. "Whatever. Who knows what set him off? I sure as fuck could never figure it out. And you know, through all that shit, I still loved him? I still tried to make him happy."
I watched as Jasper leaned forward, setting his empty bottle on the coffee table. Much like he'd done before, he began spinning it aimlessly with his fingers on the neck, studying the motion as if it held answers he desperately needed.
"It was Halloween. I came home to find all my shit in the driveway. Every single thing I'd brought with me or bought with what little money I had. The asshole actually kept track of what I'd bought and what he had." He stopped, biting his bottom lip, and I wondered just what he was seeing, what memories were haunting him. I realized that I felt…numb. It didn't seem as though what Jasper was telling me was real to me. Not yet.
I was fucking scared of what would happen when it became real.
"I walked past all that shit and went to the door, but my key wouldn't work. It didn't sink in right away what he'd done. I banged on the door, just wanting…I don't know what. Some fucking explanation, maybe? Who knows? But it wasn't Paul that answered. It was his…friend…" Jasper grimaced, a twisting of his lips, and I wished like hell that we could just…stop this. Just have it be over and done with and go back to being Cuddles and Princess with the stupid nicknames that showed our happiness together. "Alec. The same one I'd 'irrationally' accused him of being interested in. He just stood there in the doorway. He wouldn't let me come in. He told me that Paul was too busy to see me and that we had nothing left to talk about, that I needed to get my stuff before the trash collectors came. And then he slammed the door in my face."
Jasper blinked several times quickly and took a shuddering breath. I wasn't sure what, exactly, got to him the most – if it was the abuse, or the being kicked out…cheated on…all of it was so goddamn terrible that I couldn't imagine having one of those things happen to me, much less all of them, and at such a young age. I blinked back tears of my own, swallowing the lump in my throat as I worked to be strong enough to listen to the rest.
"I honest to god didn't know what to do. I was so fucking lost. I sat down on the curb with my crap all around me. I stayed there for…I don't know how long. It was getting dark when I finally realized that this was real and that if I didn't want to sleep outside, I needed to figure out…something. So I searched through the numbers in my cell phone – it's kind of sad how few there were – and called the one person in Boston whose number I actually had."
"Mike." The name slipped out without my meaning for it to, but Jasper just nodded as if I hadn't interrupted at all.
"Yeah, Mike. He didn't even know where I fucking lived…I had to give him directions. He came over with Eric, and they helped me get all my stuff loaded in the car. They left me alone…didn't make me talk about anything. It wasn't until I was trying to go to sleep that night on some stranger's couch that I understood that it was really over between Paul and me."
There was a long, heavy pause before Jasper said, "You'd think I'd be happy, right?"
When I didn't answer – because I didn't know what the hell to say to that – he turned to look at me. "I wasn't. I fucking wept like a baby because he was all I goddamn knew."
Jasper snorted, shaking his head slowly before he rested his elbows on his knees, propping his forehead against the heels of his hands. I gave him a few minutes before reaching over, rubbing his back between his shoulder blades. He was still staring at the floor when he spoke.
"The next day, Mike sat me down and made me talk about it. He made me tell him what happened, but I kept so much of it back. He still doesn't know everything, at least not from me. No one does. I know they've put a lot of shit together, but…" He swallowed and then turned his face so he could see me. He looked so goddamn vulnerable, his shoulders hunched and his face still half-buried in his hands. "You're the only one I've ever told like this…all of it, all at once."
His eyes were red-rimmed and haunted, his face full of fear and disgust. I could tell so much of it was internal – he thought he'd done something to be ashamed of. I wanted to kick something. Someone. I wanted to scream.
Instead, I scooted closer to him and wrapped both arms around his waist. There was nothing I could say. Jasper froze for a moment and then leaned into me, turning his face to bury it in my neck. I could feel his hot breath panting against my skin through my shirt, and I just felt so helpless.
I had no words. Hell, I had no way to even make sense of my feelings. There was too much there; it was overwhelming. Jasper never cried, though I felt him shudder and felt the stirrings of his eyelashes against my skin as he blinked again and again.
We sat there for a long time, holding tightly to each other. I kissed his head from time to time, and my eyes closed in gratitude when I felt his warm lips press against my neck. There was too much to tell him – how I ached for him, how I was so proud of him…how I loved him more than I'd ever thought possible. But no matter what words I thought of, they seemed paltry and insignificant, so I remained silent.
Eventually, he lifted his head from my shoulder. Just as I was about to suggest we take a little break and do…well, anything else, for a little while, Jasper said, "I run into him every once in a while. It's still…hard. We're sort of in the same business, so we compete for accounts sometimes, and every time I see him, I just…"
He frowned, his forehead wrinkling as he tried to think through what he wanted to say. I gave him time, shifting slightly away so that I could hold his hand and listen.
"I never know what to say. I don't even know whether to acknowledge him or not or to fucking hit him or…" He shrugged helplessly.
"I say knock his piece of shit ass out."
Still looking ahead, he gave a half-smile. "Mike did once."
"No shit?" I could hear the surprise – and envy – in my voice. Jasper smiled at last – a real smile, if a sad one – and nodded.
"Yeah, he…Paul found out where I was staying. I still don't know how. He must've been watching and waiting for me to come home because as soon as I started up the driveway, he just popped up out of nowhere. He was beside me, begging me to take him back, and it was like I was just…frozen. I didn't know what the fuck to do, and the sight of him there…actually looking like he cared…" Jasper gave a little shake of his head, giving me time to notice the tightness around his eyes. "Well, I might've been frozen, but Mike wasn't. He was inside and saw us, and he came goddamn stalking down the driveway. He didn't say a word to Paul. He just looked at me and said, 'That's him, right?' I guess I nodded, but the next thing I knew, Paul was just laid out on the ground bleeding, and Eric was pulling on my arm, telling me to get inside. I saw Mike's mouth moving, and I knew he was cussing Paul out, but I couldn't make sense of what he was saying. I could only focus on Paul there…hurt."
Jasper stopped again, this time turning to look at me. His eyes were pleading, though I wasn't sure what it was he wanted until he said, "I know…it's kind of pathetic, huh?"
I shook my head, frowning at him. "Not at all, baby. You loved him, no matter what a fucking prick he was…you didn't want to see him hurt." Jasper nodded slowly, and I couldn't take the distance anymore. I reached over, cupping his chin so that I could turn his face to mine. I kissed him tenderly, trying to let him understand the love I felt for him. I felt drained. Tired. And I knew he had to be feeling much worse. I could only imagine how I would feel once my mind was able to actually absorb everything he told me. Right now, it just seemed like so much white noise, and I felt only pain and sympathy and a fierce desire to make sure he was never hurt again.
We stared at each other in silence. Everything I could think to say seemed either too much or so pitifully not enough that I could voice nothing. Finally, Jasper exhaled noisily and gave a feeble attempt at an impish smile.
"Want to take a break?" I asked him quietly. He nodded, his smile growing both grateful and genuine at once.
"Hey," he said tentatively, reaching out to trace my lips with his thumb. "Would you…I mean…do you feel like taking a bath with me?" I didn't say anything at first, and he babbled on. "Never mind. It's too soon. I just…I thought…"
I gave a small smile and leaned over, kissing him gently. "Hush, baby," I whispered. He smiled against my lips and threaded his hand through the hair at the nape of my neck. The way his fingers tightened felt…possessive, as if he were claiming me somehow, and that was fucking perfect with me. "I'd love to take a bath with you."
I turned off the fireplace and the lights, but it wasn't until we were climbing the stairs and I felt the twinge at my side that I remembered I really couldn't take a bath. My steps slowed, but I kept going, leading Jasper straight to the bathroom. I wasn't sure how to bring up the tattoo – or its meaning.
To buy myself time, I bent down and started the water in the tub. When I turned back around, Jasper was squatting in front of the sink, pulling jarred candles from the cabinet. He was solemn as he placed them around the ledge and then turned back to the drawer to get the lighter. I smiled as I watched him, and as soon as he finished, he walked over to the counter where I was leaning and put his hands on my hips.
His eyes were stormy again, a mixture of determination and hope and what I could only call misery lingering there. He opened his mouth to speak and closed it again, shaking his head as if in answer to a thought he hadn't voiced. His chin lifted just slightly before he paused, standing there only inches away with his head tilted.
It was telling that he hadn't moved to close the distance between us. He'd made it clear that he wanted to kiss me but left the choice up to me. My entire chest ached as I took in the broken expression on his face. I reached up to cup his cheek and gently urged him forward, pressing my lips against his lightly.
He sighed, his body melting against mine. His weight was comforting and inviting; I wrapped my arms low around his hips as we kissed chastely. Long minutes passed with nothing but the brushing of our lips beginning to heal some of the hurt and betrayal I'd felt – I only hoped it was doing the same for Jasper.
Eventually we parted when I stepped over to stop the flow of water into the tub. Jasper began undressing, and I followed suit slowly. As soon as I pulled the henley over my head, I could feel his eyes on me. I deliberately ignored it, unbuttoning my jeans and letting them fall to the floor. I'd gone commando and barefoot, so I was left standing nude when I finally turned to face him.
Jasper was nude as well, and I clenched my hands into fists to keep myself from crossing the small space between us and pressing him against the counter. I wanted to take him. Mark him. Claim him as mine and mine alone.
But I couldn't. There was still more to be said – so much more – and some of the hurt was still too raw. Too many questions were unanswered, and as much as I wanted to fall into bed with him, I couldn't tie that blindfold of cotton sheets and heady desire over my eyes.
Instead, I stood there, exposed in every way, as his eyes raked over my body. They reached my ribcage and froze, as I knew they would.
"Why?" The word was spoken quietly in Jasper's husky voice. We both knew what he meant.
I took a shallow breath and stepped back to the vanity, opening a drawer. I pulled out one of the bath bombs I'd bought on my shopping trip with Tanya and nodded toward the tub. "Climb in."
He stared at me for a moment longer and then nodded, moving to do as I'd asked. As soon as he'd sat down, I dropped the bath bomb between his knees, and it began to fizz at once. I moved one of the candles and took a seat on the ledge, motioning for Jasper to sit with his back to me. My legs were on either side of him, letting me feel the soothing hot water just cool enough not to burn.
He followed my lead but tilted his head back so that he could see me over his shoulder. His head rested against my knee, and I ran my fingers through his hair as I tried to decide how to word my answer. I was going to be honest – that much I knew – but he'd been hurt so much already that I didn't want to make it worse.
I sighed, leaning forward to wet my fingers and run them lightly up his biceps. When the water was still again, I spoke. "I was hurting. I just…needed an outlet."
Jasper's eyes tightened; he nodded but didn't interrupt, letting me know that he wanted to hear more. With some effort, I forced the words out, and as I began to speak, it started to come to me more easily. I told him about that day – about Billy being busy and how I liked that Austin was silent, about how I went to talk to my mom and returned to find the delivery lady at my door with the tulips, and about how Kate had pointed out to me that Jasper was the one I needed to talk to.
As I spoke, Jasper's hands went to my feet. He kneaded and rubbed, his hands teasing my skin and relaxing my muscles while he listened quietly. I trailed off at last, and Jasper said, "It's an Escher."
I nodded, a half-smile turning up one corner of my lips. "Yeah. It seemed…fitting."
He nodded and then said, "Why that one?"
My hands went to his shoulders as I shifted back slightly. I massaged him gently, my thumbs rubbing out the kinks in the muscles bunching between his shoulder blades. He didn't relax under my touch, though, and I knew his focus was on my answer. "It's a paradox," I said at last. "It reminds me that I can't force change – can't force someone to be something they're not – but that change happens all the time."
For a while after that, the only sounds in the bathroom were of the rippling water as I paid attention to Jasper. I reached for a washcloth from the shelf over the tub and began cleaning him gently, stopping here and there to massage and caress him. I wanted so badly to lean down and kiss him, but I was giving him time to absorb everything I'd said – both there in the bathroom and downstairs.
Instead of responding, Jasper sat in utter silence for some time and then said softly, "I think I'm ready to get out now."
I frowned, my brow furrowing as I assumed his mood. He stood up and stepped out, and I followed behind. I grabbed two towels, but he surprised me by taking them both and putting them back on the shelf. "Jazz…what…?"
He smiled then – albeit a very small smile – and brushed his lips against mine. He walked past me and reached into the shower, turning on both shower heads before he stepped back in front of me. "You shouldn't be taking care of me like this," he murmured. "I'm the one who should…you deserve someone to take care of you. Not me."
I took his face between my hands and studied his eyes. I didn't like the dullness I saw there. It looked too empty, too hopeless. I kissed him and then pulled away to look in his eyes as I said, "Jasper, baby, you just told me something incredibly personal that took a lot of strength and trust." And love, a voice added quietly in my mind. "It's not a matter of who 'deserves' to be treated right…we both do."
Life flickered in his eyes then. He gave me a crooked smile and whispered, "Then it's my turn to treat you right, Princess. Will you let me?"
I nodded, his solemn mood seeping into me. Once he deemed the water warm enough, he ushered me inside and followed behind. I was facing him when he stepped in, and his arms immediately went around my waist. I moaned softly at the feeling of his nude body pressing against mine as he tilted his head, kissing me tenderly. His nails scratched lightly up and down my back, soothing and arousing at once, but before things went any further, he broke away, kissing my neck.
He put some space between us by reaching for my soap, and he spent the next several minutes washing me thoroughly. He paid attention to every inch of my skin, rubbing and cleaning and relaxing me. I couldn't help the way my body responded to him, but I truly appreciated the way he kept things innocent – if we could ever be called that.
His touches were calculated to be caring, not seductive, and as my head lolled back against his shoulder while he stood behind me, his arms wrapped around me to wash my chest, I wished I could find the words to tell him just how much it meant to me. I needed this. I needed for Jasper's hands to be attentive and loving. I needed him to show me that he cared about me beyond what we did in the bedroom – what he could get from any random guy at a bar.
We didn't speak as Jasper bathed me, and when he was finished, he again wrapped his arms around my waist from behind. I could feel him semi-hard against my thigh, but he simply pressed his forehead against my shoulder and breathed for a moment. Then he shifted, moving his chin to my shoulder as his cheek nuzzled mine. We stood there under the comfortably warm water until he kissed my cheek and said, "Ready to get out?"
I nodded, smiling as my eyes drifted closed. I felt more at ease than I had in nearly two weeks, and part of me really didn't want to give that up. It was inevitable that such moments had to end, however, so I pressed myself harder against Jasper for just a little longer and then patted his hands.
He dropped them from my waist and reached behind us to turn off the shower. We stepped out and began drying off. The hush still hung in the bathroom, but there was a reverence about it now – some sense that we had shared something great together rather than simply two people not knowing what to say.
The rest of the world filtered back in as we dried ourselves, and my mind returned to the problems we faced. I was still tired and now so relaxed that I thought I could sleep at once, but we had so much left to talk about. I didn't think we would be going back downstairs tonight, though, so when I was finally dry, I stood there debating with myself about what to do.
In the end, I picked up our pajama pants and handed Jasper his. He took them with a slightly puzzled look that let me know he'd been thinking about going to bed as well.
"Sorry…just…" I said, shrugging as I trailed off. Typically, I slept in the nude whether Jasper was with me or not, but I just…couldn't. Not yet. I felt too raw and exposed, and from the shower, I damn well knew that my body ached for him. Having a couple of layers of clothes between us seemed a necessary precaution.
"It's okay. I understand…" he answered as he stepped into his pants. I wondered if he really did – I wasn't sure I could fully verbalize my feelings, so how could he understand? But as soon as we were both dressed, he pulled me into an embrace. His face was buried in my neck, which he nuzzled with a soft sigh. I held him just as close, kissing his temple before I rested my head against his.
The morose feeling was beginning to become too much for me. We'd taken some major steps forward – though, granted, we still had a long way to go – and we were acting as though this were the end of something great rather than the beginning. To lighten the mood, I tickled his ribs, and he squirmed. I did it again, and he chuckled, lifting his head.
"Sorry," he murmured before pressing his lips against mine. "I'm just a little overwhelmed, I guess. I've never told anyone…and I was worried that I'd never be here again." A tightening of his arms emphasized the fact that he was talking about more than just being in my house.
I nodded, smiling at him. "I know. Me, too, actually…but we are. And I'm glad."
He was smiling as he pulled away. He took my hand and started to lead me out before he said, "Oh," and stopped to blow out the candles. We spent a couple of minutes cleaning up my bathroom a bit and then walked into my bedroom. Jasper paused halfway across my room and glanced back at me.
"You're staying, right?" I said, raising one eyebrow.
He nodded and gave a sheepish grin. It was damn cute, but it looked wrong on him. I missed my Jasper – the bold one. I was beyond glad to have seen his vulnerable side, but that uncertain look just emphasized that we still had a long way to go.
"Then get your ass in my bed." I forced myself to keep the playful edge in my voice. Jasper raised an eyebrow of his own in response and sauntered to my bed as if he had all the time in the world. I passed him, smacking his ass as I went, and he laughed, tumbling into bed after me.
He landed half on top of me and tickled just inside my hipbone, where he knew it drove me crazy. I laughed until I was struggling to catch my breath when he suddenly stopped. I kept chuckling, unable to stop myself until I heard him say, "Hey…"
I lifted myself onto my elbows, a stupid grin still on my face. He laughed and shook his head in response, but then a serious expression settled on his face again. "What is it, baby?" I asked.
"Well, I was just thinking about our tattoos. I know why you got the newest one…" I was proud of him when he steeled himself with a single breath and kept going. "But what about the others?"
I bit the inside of my cheek, cocking my head to the side as I debated. "I'll tell you whatever you want to know. Will you tell me about yours?"
He considered my offer and then nodded. "Who goes first?"
"Whichever way." I shrugged. I had theories about Jasper's – just like I was sure he had some about mine – but I wanted to hear the real reasons from him.
He shifted on the bed so that he was sitting up against my headboard. I sat up facing him, pulling one of my pillows into my lap. My eyes went to the phoenix tattooed on his chest, and his fingers followed my gaze, tracing the edge. "I'll go," he said quietly. His voice was calm and sure, which honestly surprised me a little.
When the silence stretched on until it became uncomfortable, I said, "Okay."
Jasper flashed a half-smile and mumbled, "Sorry. Was just trying to figure out where to start." His hand slipped to the left, and he toyed with his nipple ring as he lapsed into quiet reflection again. At last, he flicked at the barbell and glanced over at me. "Well, these came first."
"Really?" My surprise was apparent in the upward inflection of my voice. I don't know why, but I hadn't expected that.
He nodded. "I was…asserting myself, I guess." He gave me a rueful smile. "Before I moved to Boston, I was pretty clean-cut. Innocent, really. He…Paul liked me that way."
I nodded slowly. It made sense from what I'd heard of Paul. The bastard wanted to be able to control, to train and mold. He didn't want a partner. He wanted a slave.
"I got these about six months after I moved in with Mike." I noticed the unusual way he phrased things. Instead of mentioning the end of his mockery of a relationship with Paul, he put it in terms of Mike – it was the same with the move to Boston. My references for time were totally different than his. Typically, I considered eras of my life to be defined by the boyfriend I had at the time. I wanted to explore this new realization, but Jasper was still talking, so I shifted my focus back to him instead.
"Eric went with me. It was the first time we'd really gone out anywhere together alone, and he sort of half-talked me into it. But as soon as I had them done, I really liked them. I liked the feeling, I think, more than anything." He glanced at me with an impish grin. "It didn't hurt that the next guy I was with really liked them."
I narrowed my eyes at him, and he chuckled, reaching out to take my hand. "You're cute," he said simply. "The ahh…the phoenix was next. After the piercings, I started thinking about what I'd really like to have done. I wanted to…hell, I don't even know. To end it somehow. On my terms, I guess? Fuck if I know, really. I took my time designing it, though." A faint smile ghosted on his lips as he said, "I went back to Black Ink when I was ready…Billy's the one who did it."
Again, he lifted his free hand to the tattoo, and his fingers traced the edge as if they were intimately familiar with the pattern. I wondered just how many times he'd done that – and where his thoughts went when he did.
I looked up to find his forehead wrinkled. He seemed to be thinking carefully, but I didn't know if he was choosing his words, or if he'd never even really thought about why, exactly, he'd gotten the tattoo – at least not in terms that he could explain to someone else. I squeezed his hand, trying to let him know I understood the difficulties, but I guess he took it as his cue to speak because he shook his head. His voice was far away when he said, "I felt dead after Paul. Literally dead. I don't even know how to describe it. It was like I couldn't hear or see anything anymore. There was just…nothing. And it was the worst fucking feeling in the world. So when I started to come out of it…when I started to realize that there were other people in the world, people who actually cared about me, I guess…I guess I sort of realized what had nearly happened to me. I mean, it did happen, but thank god I got out, you know?"
He turned to face me then. I couldn't do anything but nod as I tried to swallow the lump in my throat. Whenever he spoke about Paul and the hopelessness he'd felt, I was torn between wanting to hit something and wanting to hold him and weep. He shrugged, smiling weakly. "I know a phoenix is probably obvious, but that's just what I felt like…like I'd been given another chance."
I nodded again. When I couldn't find words to say anything close to what I felt, I leaned forward, shifting to my hands and knees so I could kiss him. He returned my kiss eagerly, his tongue parting my lips, and I felt the renewed vigor in his touch. Just the memory was enough to make him feel that new chance at life again.
I broke our kiss reluctantly and settled back on the bed. He smiled at me and ran his fingers through his hair before clearing his throat. "The others don't really mean much. Well, I guess that's not true…" He paused, chewing the inside of his lip as he thought. "The fractal I got for the guys. We took a hell of a lot of classes together, but we were studying Mandelbrot sets when we started tossing around the idea of opening our own software company after graduation. It was a joke at first, but…well, obviously we did it. The fractal thing stuck in more ways than one."
Jasper must've seen the blank look on my face because he said, "Self-Similar Software?" I nodded, recognizing the name of Jasper's company, but I still wasn't making the connection. He chuckled. "Yeah, it's a little nerdy, I guess. Self-similarity is a term used with fractals…means the repeating parts."
"Oh," I said stupidly. Jasper smiled at me and reached out, cupping my cheek before dropping his hand again. "Yeah, I remember you talking about that now."
While I was busy trying to stay focused and not molest the man I just met.
I grinned at Jasper, who raised both eyebrows. He didn't make any further comment, though. He just said, "The knot really didn't have any meaning. I wanted another tattoo, and I like Escher's work…" A pink flush crept up his neck to his cheeks, and he looked down at the sheets before he said, "It means a hell of a lot more now." His voice was barely audible, and I resisted the urge to ask him to say it again louder.
When he looked up, his blush deepened. "You don't know how glad I am that I decided to set up that appointment."
I couldn't take the sight of him so red-faced and adorable, so I moved closer, placing one hand on his neck as I leaned in to kiss him. I pulled away first and said, "You don't know how glad I am that I was still there…I was just leaving."
"And I was running late," Jasper whispered against my lips with a smile.
I answered his smile with one of my own and nodded, sitting back. I knew Jasper's body intimately enough to know that was the last of his tattoos, so I thought for a moment about how best to explain mine. I decided to move through them chronologically and began, "My first tattoo was the lizards." Jasper grinned at that, and I shrugged. "It was quite literally a stupid drunken college decision. Seth was with me." I grinned, surprised to feel heat on my cheeks when I admitted, "The plan was to get it on my shoulder blade. But the tattoo artist was really fucking cute."
Jasper looked confused for a second and then laughed, throwing back his head. "You took off your pants because you thought he was cute?" His eyes were wide with amused disbelief.
"Yup." I shrugged, chuckling. "Not my best idea. Having a cute guy between my thighs for that long when he wasn't actually doing anything I wanted him to do was torture. Seth still gives me shit about it sometimes."
My smile faded as my hand went to my chest. I glanced down, looking at the Hebrew letters etched in brown ink. "After that, I decided that if I was going to permanently mark myself, I wanted it to mean something. I got this one next." I saw Jasper nod out of the corner of my eye but didn't look at him. "I already told you it's my mom's name…I got it in Hebrew because that's the original language, and I…I guess I wanted it to be for me. I didn't want everyone who saw it to know what it was right away."
"No heart with 'Mom' for you?" Jasper's voice was gentle, letting me know he understood. I nodded my agreement and then turned around on the bed so that my back was facing him.
"Dad's was next." I could hear the way my voice was becoming more strained. I always had a hard time talking about the tattoos I'd gotten for my parents. The ink made me feel closer to them, somehow. I'd always felt my loss more keenly when I looked at those tattoos. "It's the Masen family crest with the motto…"
The bed shifted as Jasper leaned forward. His fingers were feather-light on my skin as he traced the tattoo, and I imagined it as he must be seeing it – the blue lion rampant on the yellow kite shield. It wasn't often that I saw it, of course, but I had looked at it in the mirror and in pictures from time to time, and it was burned into my memory.
"Dum spiro spero…" Jasper murmured, his fingertips running along the bottom of the design.
I heard the question in his tone and answered it. "'While I have breath, I have hope'…" The hollow ache in my chest was familiar but left my voice breathless. I'd tried so hard over the years to hold onto that motto. "My dad explained it to me right after Mom died. I was so young…but he kept telling me what it meant until it stuck. I…god, it's so ridiculous, really, because…well…" I shook my head at myself and decided to just say it and let Jasper make of it what he would. "It's on both their tombstones. I know it's stupid, but I just…I needed…"
Jasper's hands closed around my biceps as he moved to sit behind me. His legs were out to either side of mine, and he pulled me back into his embrace. "It's not stupid," he said quietly. "It was what you needed."
I nodded, unable to explain even to myself why I would put something so ironic on a grave marker. Jasper wrapped his arms around my chest, holding me back against him, and I welcomed the brief respite. I put my right hand over his crossed arms, relaxing into him as he kissed my temple. "Dad had it put on Mom's…I think it was to remind himself. And then when he died, I…" I shrugged.
"You needed the reminder, too," Jasper finished for me simply.
"Yeah." There seemed to be nothing more to say to that. I was sure I could talk endlessly about my parents – and I was sure that we would talk about them again – but I wanted to stay focused on what was important just then…us. I shifted, moving out of Jasper's embrace as I turned around to face him again. He leaned against the headboard, watching the movement of my hand as it went to the tribal tattoo on my arm. "I got this one when I finished my Ph.D. I wanted something to mark the occasion, so to speak, and Kate's actually the one that suggested a tribal. I gave her a hard time because everyone was getting tribal bands, but she said that's why it was perfect. Cultural phenomenon and all."
I grinned at Jasper, who nodded absently in response. He was studying the design – or, more specifically, the way it molded over my shoulder and around my biceps. When I paused, he glanced up. "She still doesn't quite get what I study, but it was a good enough attempt that I went with it."
"Doesn't hurt that it's fucking hot," Jasper interjected, grinning at me.
I chuckled, unsure what to say to that. Instead, I moved on, pulling up my left pants leg to reveal my most unobtrusive tattoo. Jasper's eyes brightened with interest as he leaned closer. "You know, I've never really looked at that one…" he said.
"Yeah, I know. Most people don't. It's kind of an awkward place for people to stare, and I don't wear shorts a lot."
He nodded and leaned down, trying to follow the band of text around my calf. "I can't tell what it says." He sounded frustrated as he sat back up and looked at me pointedly.
The tattoo was in an old script in the same brown ink as the Hebrew name on my chest. Most of the time, it was hidden, and the way it wrapped all the way around my calf just below my knee made it hard to read. "It says, ars longa, vita brevis…more Latin." A faint grin played on Jasper's lips. "Basically 'art is long, life is short'. It really means 'work' more than art itself, but I take it both ways." I talked for a few minutes about the many different meanings for me. I used it to remind myself that life was too short to spend time doing work I hated and that what I created would remain after I passed away – which, in turn, meant I had to create.
When I finished, I pulled down my pants leg and paused before giving a sigh. The only two left were the two that would be most difficult to talk about. Technically, Jasper knew about both of them, but I was aware that I'd left out some important information with the one on my hip. To buy myself some time, I said, "I got the tongue ring before the tribal…I was in grad school, and my boyfriend at the time had one. It was…nice…" I smirked. "So I returned the favor."
Jasper's expression waffled between annoyance and amusement before a lazy grin settled on his lips. "Damn right it's nice…" He winked at me and murmured, "Come here, please…"
I was all too happy to comply, so I leaned forward, kissing him deeply as both his hands went to my neck. He held me close, and I could feel in every movement of his lips the way he wanted to just keep going. I wanted it, too – so badly – but I knew that I was avoiding and not being completely honest. I slowed our kiss and then pecked him once just to the right of his lips before lying down on my back. I lifted my hips, pulling my pants down low so that the tattoo inside my left hip was visible.
Jasper stretched out on his stomach, his head near my hips as he studied it anew. His position didn't help my resolve any, but the curiosity on his face did. "I know about this one, right?"
"Sort of." He frowned at me, and I reached down to tangle my fingers in his hair. "I told you about what it stands for, but I think I left out a little about why I got it."
Fucking liar.
I knew I'd consciously left out the most important parts because I'd been afraid of scaring Jasper away, but it was past that point now. He had to know.
Fuck it all.
I put my hands behind my head, looking up at the ceiling as I said quietly, "I want that, Jazz. I want to be married someday and have that relationship where you know you can always count on each other. Alistair didn't. I thought he'd come around…I thought he just needed time and that I would be enough to make him change his mind. So I guess I…I guess I got it to remind myself that if I am going to get what I want, I have to be with someone who wants it, too."
Dead silence descended in my room as soon as my voice stopped. I was scared – afraid to look at Jasper because I had no idea what I would see. He was in my peripheral vision, motionless, but I kept my eyes on the ceiling as I gave him some time. I couldn't help feeling like I'd just thrown down the gauntlet, issued a challenge, and I wasn't sure at all that it was one he was ready to accept.
So I lay there quietly, hoping like hell that I hadn't fucked up. I couldn't stand the thought of him leaving, but when it came down to it, I would prefer that to another wasted couple of years with inevitable heartbreak at the end anyway.
God, please want to try, Jasper…
I was so caught up in my own fears that I jumped when I felt something lightly brush my ribs. Both my hands flew to my sides, but Jasper calmly moved his hand, returning it to the tattoo he'd been tracing. His eyes followed his fingers as they moved across my newest ink, and he still hadn't looked up when he whispered, "I'm sorry."
My heart plummeted and my gut clenched as I waited for him to say that he didn't want it. I squeezed my eyes shut, unsure what I would do now. I didn't know if I had the strength to start over again, not after finding everything I wanted in him.
"Hey," he whispered, lightly shaking me. "Look at me please?"
I opened my eyes and turned to face him. He reached out, brushing the backs of his fingers along my cheek. "I'm sorry I hurt you, Edward. You deserve so much better than that. I…" He swallowed hard and took a shaky breath. "You have no idea how much I wish I could just say that I want it, too, and can give it to you. But I just…can't. Not right now."
His eyes were panicked, whether it was from the expression on my face or some realization of his own, and his words sped up as he said, "I'm not saying I don't. Please don't think that. When I think about not knowing you or not having you here with me, it…it fucking burns. I feel a physical pain here…" He picked up my hand and placed it over his sternum, letting me feel his heart beating beneath my fingertips.
I swallowed, unsure what to say. It wasn't a matter of not wanting to interrupt – it was that my mind was in such turmoil that no coherent thoughts would form. I was still lying on my back, and Jasper must have become frustrated that he couldn't see my face clearly because he moved to straddle my legs. He pulled at my shoulders, urging me to sit up, and I did, propping myself up with my hands behind me. His eyes were earnest, nearly frantic, as he took my face between his hands and said fervently, "I want to try. More than I've ever wanted anything. Please don't leave me just because I can't promise you right now that it will happen. Edward, I…I think I need you, and that scares the hell out of me. Fucking terrifying. But…I'm falling for you. Please just…give me a chance…"
It was a mess of words, a confusing array of contradictory ideas that let me see just how lost he was, but in it all, I picked out the words I needed to hear.
He needs me.
He wants to try with me.
He's falling for me.
The last put a wide smile on my face, and I did the only thing I could think of to try to calm him down. I mimicked his position, putting both my hands on his cheeks, and leaned forward, kissing him with everything I had. My lips parted his, and he was just a second behind me before he caught up. He moaned as the tip of his tongue met the barbell through mine, and then his hands left my face as he pushed me back onto the mattress.
My head landed half on a pillow, and I grabbed it, throwing it somewhere to the side before I wrapped my arms around Jasper's broad shoulders. His skin felt so good beneath my fingertips, and I just couldn't get enough of it. My hands roamed of their own accord, drifting down his sides, cupping his ass, scratching his back in my frantic need to feel all of him.
His lips left mine to travel along my neck. I felt him bite at my shoulder as my breathing became more labored, and then his mouth was back, his kisses insistent and somehow triumphant and humble at once. Both his hands were tangled in my hair, his hips raised over mine, and as we kissed, he lowered himself onto me, his knees spreading until our groins brushed.
I broke our kiss then, turning my head. "Fuck," I breathed, my eyes rolling back at how good he felt. We were both growing harder, that ever-present desire we had for each other returning in force at the understanding that we were more to each other than just a quick – albeit amazing – fuck. The thought – the knowledge that Jasper wanted more with me – put a smile on my face, and I had to kiss him again.
His hips began rocking against mine, and my hands went to his ass, where I pressed and pulled as my hips rose to meet him. His bare chest against mine was intoxicating; his movements, his weight, his very scent making it impossible for me to think of anything but him.
We spent long moments kissing and caressing, our desire heightening until I thought I would explode, but at long last, I found the resolve to slow our kisses. For reasons I couldn't even explain to myself, I wasn't quite ready to let our physical relationship pick up right where we'd left off. Something held me back, and as I worked to calm Jasper with gentle brushes of my lips, I recognized it at last.
Jasper was so much more comfortable with the physical part of our relationship than the emotional one. This was easy for him – maybe a little too easy. I didn't recognize my fear for what it was at first, but it was exactly that: I was afraid that if I let our physical relationship go on as if nothing had happened, Jasper might close himself off again.
It was probably a groundless fear – and undoubtedly a frustrating one – but once it entered my head, I couldn't let it go. Jasper obviously wasn't on the same page, though, because when I cooled our lips moving together, his simply went to lick and suck at the skin of my neck. My eyes closed as I bit my bottom lip with a groan.
God, he feels so fucking perfect.
He knew just what to do to me, and he was doing all of it. I whispered his name, but he didn't slow. His hand moved to my chest, his fingers teasing my nipple as he bit at the join of my shoulder and neck. Finally, I had to push against his chest as I murmured, "Jazz? Baby, stop for a second…"
He heard me then and sat up quickly. His eyes were apologetic at once, and he mumbled, "Sorry." He shifted about a foot back so that he was sitting on my thighs, and it was obvious just exactly how excited both of us were. At the sight of our erections straining the thin fabric of our pajama pants, I nearly gave in – after all, what could a couple of orgasms hurt?
But I didn't. I sat up slowly, steeling myself with calm, even breaths. I put my hands on his thighs and gave him one more chaste kiss. I could tell from his expression that he knew why I was trying to stop us – but what I couldn't tell was if he agreed.
To be honest, it didn't really matter. I wasn't ready, and that, combined with my fears for how Jasper might react, was reason enough to stop.
He smiled at me finally, moving to sit beside me. We both leaned against the headboard as Jasper took my hand. I could see him reining himself in, straightening his shoulders, taking a few deep breaths. When he looked at me again, the excitement was gone from his eyes, and he seemed almost relaxed. "So…I know about Alistair. Is there anyone else I should know about?"
I smiled, silently thanking him for making this attempt. He was trying to get to know me…trying to understand me, and it meant more to me than anything else he could've said or done. I laced our fingers together and said, "He's really the most significant…sort of a defining moment in my life, I guess. My first boyfriend, though, was a guy named Steve. We met when I was a freshman in college."
"College? Really?" There was an incredulous tone in Jasper's voice, and I knew he was thinking of his own early experimentation in high school.
I nodded, deciding to take a little detour in my story. "Yeah, I guess I did things a little backwards from you. You experimented and then came out. I was the total opposite." My smile was wry as I explained to Jasper my realization that I was gay. It was right around the time my father died, and I'd dealt with the guilt for years before saying anything. "I couldn't bring myself to admit it for the longest time. He and I had talked about Mom so often, and he'd always put it in terms of when I met the right woman and when I had a family. Knowing that there would never be the right woman for me was really hard for me to accept at first. When I was sixteen, I developed a huge crush on one of the running backs on our football team. Emmett was a senior and a starter, so I went to every game and practice. It…became obvious to me that there really was no denying it. I was gay."
Jasper squeezed my hand, a silent gesture of acceptance and understanding, and I squeezed his back before going on. "I told Aunt Livy first. I was sitting on the porch swing. I don't know if I'd been crying or not. It's possible. She came out with a cup of hot chocolate for each of us and sat down. She asked what was wrong, and there was just something in the way she said it that made it seem like…she knew. That probably sounds ridiculous, but it was easy to tell her after that."
We'd sat on the porch swing for an hour, talking and swinging. She put her arm around me and pulled my head to her shoulder, no matter that I was already a good six inches taller than her. When she asked me if I wanted her to tell the family, I could have kissed her, but I told her I would do it.
"And then I asked for help telling Uncle Everett." I smiled ruefully. I'd been scared to death of what my bear of an uncle would have to say. He was my mom's brother, and that somehow made his opinion matter even more. "I didn't tell anyone else for days, though. They all assumed I was upset about my parents again – which I was, in a way. Aunt Livy told me, though, that she knew my mom – knew both my parents – and that what they'd want was for me to be happy. They'd want me to find love, no matter what form it took."
I smiled softly to myself. Her words still warmed me, even though I sometimes wondered if they were true. I must've stayed quiet for longer than I realized because Jasper's voice broke through my thoughts when he said, "That's really great to hear, Edward."
I nodded and cleared my throat. "I told Emmett next. It wasn't intentional, really. There was some lame dance coming up at school, and he was going on and on about who he wanted to take and who I should take, and he was just being fucking annoying. So when he mentioned some cheerleader, I muttered something about how I'd rather go with the running back, and he just froze. Swear to god, it was like a cartoon."
Jasper and I both laughed. He sounded slightly in awe when he asked, "What did Emmett say?"
I rolled my eyes. "He stood there for a second and then said, 'You're serious?' I nodded – why the fuck would I open myself up like that without meaning it? And he was totally cool about it. In fact, he was a little too cool. I was sitting on my bed, and he jumped up beside me and said that just meant more girls for him. Then his eyes got really big and he said, 'Oh, hey! I've always wondered…what's it like to suck a dick?'"
Jasper stared at me in disbelief for a second, and then he threw back his head and laughed. "He didn't ask you that."
"Oh, he sure as hell did. That fucker has no filter at all. He never has. I probably should've given him a hard time and asked him why he was wondering about it, but I didn't. I sort of blushed instead, and I told him I'd never done that. He pressed for more, and well…it came out that I hadn't done anything before."
"Really? Nothing?"
I shook my head. "Nothing at all. In fact, I didn't have my first kiss until I was eighteen and living up here. I just…didn't feel right in Tennessee. I was planning to leave after high school, so I…" I shrugged, unsure how to finish. Instead, I told Jasper about telling Tanya and how she'd been much quieter than Emmett. It turned out she'd suspected as much for a while. "I asked her how she knew, and she said that I'd talk with her about guys for hours, but I only ever shrugged when she brought up girls for me."
Jasper grinned. "Yeah, guess that would give it away, huh?"
"Apparently." My grin mirrored his as I pulled my feet up and rested my arms over my knees. "When I came to visit Carlisle and Esme that summer, I told them, too. That was nearly as scary as telling my uncle. He'd turned out to be nearly as okay with it as Emmett, though he thankfully didn't make any comments about sex acts." I laughed, shaking my head. "Carlisle and Esme were both quiet the whole time I was talking, and I was really worried that they were upset at first. But Carlisle smiled when I was done, and Esme hugged me and told me she was proud of me, and that was pretty much it."
I realized I had very little left to say on the whole subject of my coming out, so I switched back to Jasper's original question about boyfriends. "So anyway, there was no action of any kind for me until I met Steve. He was actually my first for…pretty much everything. We were both inexperienced, which was kind of nice now that I look back on it. We just bumbled our way through everything together."
I smiled. My memories of Steve had always been fond. It had been the most equitable breakup I'd ever actually witnessed. We grew apart, and we both knew it. There was no bitterness on either side, even though we'd gotten back together a couple of times before we really admitted it was over. "He had a little more experience than I did, so we went from the first kiss to the first blowjob fairly quickly. But then there was a long time when that was it. We were together for about five months before we had sex. We experimented there, too…both of us topped…we tried different positions." I shrugged. "All of that stuff."
I glanced over at Jasper to see how he was taking all of this. He seemed wistful somehow, but there was also disbelief in his voice when he said, "So you really didn't have sex until then?"
I nodded. "Yeah…I just needed that connection with him, I guess. I've had a couple of one-night stands over the years, but I felt like shit both times. It just…doesn't work for me. So pretty much my entire adult life has been spent the same way." We talked for a while longer while I told Jasper about how I would be in a relationship from anywhere from six months to a couple of years. Eventually, things would end. I'd spend a little time alone and then do it again, sometimes with shorter, almost-relationships in between.
Jasper was nodding thoughtfully while he listened, and when I trailed off, he said, "I guess I've really only had the almost-relationships you were talking about. I never really stay with anyone for more than a few months at a time, and it's sort of…shallow." I could tell by the half-smile on his face that he was a little embarrassed admitting this.
From his behavior and the things he'd said here and there since we'd met, I'd already pieced that much together, though. I didn't want him to think he had to explain himself – hearing about that fuckhole Paul was explanation enough, although I did hope that he was able to break that pattern with me.
I glanced at the clock, seeing that it was after midnight, and realized we needed to get to bed soon if we were going to make it to breakfast with Emily. At that thought, I paused. I wasn't sure if she was expecting me or not. "Hey…what did you tell Emily?" I asked as softly as I could.
Jasper's face turned bright red as his shoulders hunched slightly. "Nothing," he admitted. At my raised eyebrow, he shrugged. "I didn't know if there was any way things would work out, but I was hoping they would." He stared straight ahead for a moment and then shook himself. "God, beyond hoping. I was fucking praying."
With that, he glanced at me, giving me a small, almost shy smile. I reached out and took his hand, pulling him with me as I moved to stand beside the bed. I held him close, kissing him softly, and our lips were still touching when I murmured, "They did, baby…"
He moaned quietly and slid his hands down my arms, twining our fingers together as he tilted his head and deepened our kiss. I felt our connection – our love – in that kiss as his lips moved gently with mine. When we parted, both of us were wearing identical smiles. Without any further talk, I turned off the lights, pulled back the covers, and guided him to lie down with me.
He shifted me onto my back and snuggled up close, resting his arm over my chest and his head on my shoulder. "You'll go with me tomorrow?" he asked in the stillness of my dark room.
"If you'll have me," I answered honestly.
His arm around me tightened as he nuzzled his forehead into my neck. He lifted his head, his lips finding mine once more, and then he whispered, "Thank you."
Those two words weren't the three I really wanted to hear, but there was little else that could've put a smile on my face like the one that was there as I fell asleep with Jasper in my arms.
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i'm soooooo glad they've started working everything out! those poor boys are having a rough time of it! thank you for such an amazing chapter! i'm looking forward to their date with emily next time =)
ReplyDeleteThe stuff that Jasper said about how he had to hide his sexuality hit really close to home for me. I'd just like to say that you did a great job with this chapter, though it was sort of hard for me to read. At least my boyfriends have never seriously screwed me up (On second thought my sister might disagree with that).
ReplyDeleteGreat job, I can't wait for the next chapter.
<<<333. I really like the way this chapter went, and for that matter how the story is going. I'm glad that they took the time to make sure that everything was said, and we know they are almost there, but not everything just happened to work out perfectly all in a swift manner. It feels real.
ReplyDeleteLove it!!!!!!! so excited for this next chapter and be careful what you wish for...you are fab- keep up to amazing work!!
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