Author's note: Obviously, no copyright infringement is intended and none of the names of the characters belong to me. Many thanks to NinaQ for her encouragement and beta skills, even though I'm the worst email correspondent ever.
I've been writing this on-and-off for a really long time and I have no idea why I decided to start posting it today, but there you go. I make absolutely no guarantees at all that it will be updated on anything like a regular basis or that it will be finished in the next… few years, let's say. As everyone always says, feedback is very much appreciated, especially since this is the first Twilight story I've posted (and the first fic I've written in the last 15 or so years.)
I think it's fairly evident that the setting is written from experience; if you recognize the school or the department or the bars, please don't tell anyone (especially my advisor) that I occasionally write fanfic. And while there really is a futon and I've certainly had some (not-related-to-a-fictional-character) fantasies about it, that part is, alas, entirely made up.
Chapter 1: The Futon
I looked at the time displayed at the bottom corner of my laptop screen: 2:27 AM. I groaned.
"Hey Edward, Alice, I'm making some more coffee. Want some?" I yelled over the cubicle walls.
"Sure, thanks. I'm ready for a break in ten minutes," Edward replied.
"No coffee for me, I'm too hopped up on Red Bull already. But I'll take a break with you guys," Alice said.
I dropped my legs to the floor, untwisting them from my cross-legged position, stretched out my arms and back and groaned again as I could feel the circulation returning to my feet. As I stood up, all of the muscles in my back that had been immobile for the last hour protested – not too surprising, as I had been hunched over, staring at over my computer. I grabbed the coffee pot and made my way out into the hallway to the water fountain.
As I stood there, waiting for the pot to fill, I experienced one of those moments of unreality that comes with sleep deprivation. I took in my surroundings as if I had never seen them before. A hallway lit with fluorescent lights and no windows to the outside world, with threadbare carpeting, stretched in front of me. A row of doors ran along both sides, each with a nameplate, and each office empty at this time of night. I knew that the only other occupants of the building were through the door I just came out of, labeled "English Department Graduate Student Office."
I asked myself for the millionth time what in the world I was doing in graduate school. I knew the answer well enough – I loved the subject. I loved reading, I loved thinking about what I read and I loved sharing those loves with others. What I did not love doing was staying up all night writing papers for my seminars. Unfortunately, whether I loved it or not, my 19th century British Lit paper was due by noon tomorrow and I still had five pages left to go. My outline was solid – I had the points I wanted to make and the references to back them up all scribbled onto a piece of graph paper – but I still needed to slog through the actual writing.
The water reached the '10 cups' line of the pot so I re-entered the office and began measuring out spoonfuls of ground coffee into the little coffee maker we put on the windowsill. I had to admit to myself that there were some things I liked about the grueling grad school experience. There's a camaraderie which only comes from being in the trenches with a person. My fellow students were my friends and support system as well as my colleagues. Tonight only Alice and Edward were here with me, since Jasper and Rosalie had taken African-American Lit instead of 19th century British and their paper had been due two days ago. While everyone in the department had a desk in here and a lot of people worked here during the day, we five were the mainstay of the late-night crew.
I had been happy with my progress on this paper and I planned to finish it yesterday in time to get a good night's sleep before starting on the next paper. My plan was stymied by my recent tendency to drift off into very vivid and explicit daydreams when I wasn't careful. Daydreams about someone for whom I was definitely in the 'friend zone'.
Alice bounced out of her chair – she wasn't kidding about the Red Bull – and ran over to Edward. "Are you ready yet? Huh? Huh?" She jostled the back of his chair as she used it to support her almost non-existent weight as she jumped up and down.
"Let me finish this paragraph. I'll be ready when the coffee's done." His eyes never left his laptop, their determined glare seeing only the words on the screen. He looked hot when he was determined. And when he wasn't. And when he was in any other mood I could conceivably think of.
"Come on," I said as I grabbed Alice's arm, dragging her away from Edward and out into the hallway while the coffee brewed. "How's it going?"
"Good!" She replied. "Only three more pages to edit. Then I need to format my footnotes and bibliography and I'm out of here. Home, sweet home. I miss my bed, Bella." She pouted and gave me a puppy-dog look as if I was the one preventing her from going home.
"Don't taunt me. I'm going to be here for the foreseeable future. Ugh, stupid third paragraph." We talked about my paper for a few minutes. Alice was always immensely helpful in getting me to explain to her exactly what I wanted to argue.
As we were winding up, Edward came out of the office with two mugs of coffee and he handed me one.
"The way you like it," he said with a smile. He looked rumpled. We all did, in our hoodies and jeans with identical dark circles under all our eyes. How his green eyes could still sparkle when he smiled, though, I'll never understand.
I smiled back. "Thank you."
We went to the door of the building, I made sure I had my key and we stepped outside into the night air. We used to go outside so Edward, Jasper and Rosalie could smoke, but they had quit at the beginning of the semester. It had become a habit, though, and I liked the freshness of the night. I was quiet as I sipped my coffee and listened to Edward and Alice talk about one of the books we had read this year and the party we were planning once all our work was done.
He was gorgeous in the moonlight. I'd had a crush on him since I first saw him at orientation our first year. It had started off fairly innocently, since we both had significant others. Jake had stayed in Washington, supportive of my career goals but unwilling to leave his father alone. The distance and our different priorities in life finally got the best of us and we broke up during the summer. Victoria had actually moved here with Edward. I hated her just a little bit from the moment I met her, with her perfect looks and snarky attitude. She wasn't a bad person but she and Edward had had a kind of messy breakup midway through the second semester, she moved back in with her parents. They certainly weren't on as good terms and Jake and I were now.
All of which is to say, we had both been pretty involved in our own dramas. Even so I hadn't been able to help but notice him – how attractive and smart and fun he was. And even though I was still with Jake and therefore wasn't really allowed to want Edward, I desperately wanted Edward to want me.
We're a close knit department. Our school is in a town with nothing else in it but the university, so we're kind of our own social universe. Edward and I hung out a bit in our first year, but we were honestly too busy for much socializing. Now that we were in our second year and had a better idea of how to balance our lives, our little group had coalesced – me, Edward, Alice, Jasper and Rosalie.
I know that he likes me as a friend and that's it. I'm mousy, nerdy Bella and he's… well, he's Edward. I'll admit that I've come out of my shell a lot here. Somehow having to forge my own way without Jake to back me up like he'd always done before made me stronger and more comfortable with the less innocent parts of myself. Back home people looked at me completely shocked if I said 'fuck'. Here, I threw around friendly insults like 'twat waffle' and 'pox-ridden whore' along with everyone else. But I'm still just me, while Edward is a paragon of perfection. Girls just throw themselves at him whenever we go out.
I let myself focus just a little too long at his messy, reddish hair and the stubble – oh Lord, the stubble…
"Bella?" he asked, looking legitimately concerned, "are you okay? That was a really deep sigh."
"Oh, um, yes, uh…" Don't be blushing, don't be blushing, please don't be blushing. "I'm just frustrated with my paper. I still have so much to do and it's so late."
"Think you'll be breaking in the futon?" Alice asked me. Yesterday we'd taken up a collection and bought the cheapest futon we could find at WalMart. It was our office's most prized possession. Previously people had slept with their heads on desks, on the floor or on the ancient and extremely disgusting half-couch that had been in the office for longer than anyone could remember. That last option was only for the brave of heart or the diseased of mind (and possibly other body parts, as well).
Oh, the futon. Ever since we'd gotten it, it had featured in many of my daydreams.
"Probably," I sighed.
"Shocking, Bella! Who did you invite over to help you break it in?" Edward asked with a smirk. I tried to ignore the rush of sensation in my body just from seeing him smirk at me.
"Shut up, you perv. Not like that!" In case you didn't know, graduate students are like twelve year olds. Everything is sexual innuendo. The only difference is that we know a lot more and can make our jokes a lot dirtier.
"Uh huh. I bet that futon sees some Bella action tonight," he joked.
"Well, Alice is leaving, so I don't get hot lesbian sex. Are you going to be joining me?" I asked sarcastically.
His absurdly green eyes held mine, with no discernable expression, for just a fraction of a second longer than was normal. It did come out as sarcastic, right? God, I hope so. Then he grinned as Alice grabbed me around the waist and laughed.
"Aww, Bella, don't be sad. We can have hot lesbian sex on the futon tomorrow night." I laughed, too.
"Promises, promises! Okay, I need to get back to my paper," I said reluctantly. We walked back in and sat back down at our own desks, silence filling the room yet again.
It drove me nuts that I was so awkward. Alice could have said what I did to Edward and nobody would have thought twice about it. So why was I worried that Edward would take what I said seriously? He didn't see me any differently from Alice, or Rose, or probably even Jasper for that matter. I needed to act normal so he'd never find out how I feel about him, which would be completely awkward and totally fuck up our group dynamics after the inevitable rejection, shame and shunning. It would be much easier if he wasn't so goddamn hot, though. While I did have romantic feelings for him, those were much easier to deal with, somehow. It was the lust that I was having problems controlling.
At 3:15 Alice left, promising to bring us breakfast when she came back in the morning.
By four in the morning, I had decided that enough was enough and the paper was basically done. I could sleep for a few hours before editing.
"I'm sleeping for a bit," I told Edward as I walked by him on my way to the futon. His head shot up.
"Oh, okay." He didn't go back to his work right away, though. I guess everyone is sort of dazed this late at night. I was feeling pretty dazed as he kept looking at me. 'Normal, normal, normal,' I repeated in my head like a mantra. What would Alice say right now?
"I'll sleep on the far side if you want to crash later, too. I'm getting up at 7." Shit. Was that what Alice would have said? I think so – the reason we'd decided to buy the bigger futon was so more than one person could sleep on it at a time. It's not like we'd be in pajamas or under covers or anything, so it didn't quite seem like sharing a bed. I wouldn't have thought twice about issuing that invitation to anyone else.
But with Edward… it would be as close to sharing a bed as we'd ever get.
"Thanks," he said, although his tone was so neutral I was almost afraid I had offended him or something.
I realized that I was still standing in front of him. Just standing and looking at him, probably for longer than I should have. He still hadn't moved.
"I'm so spaced out," I laughed it off. It was true. "Definitely time for some sleep."
I moved over to the futon, set my cell phone alarm, tucked my sweater under my head and closed my eyes. You'd think that I'd fall asleep immediately, but no. The intensity of frenetic writing makes it hard to relax afterwards, but after a few minutes of hearing semi-regular typing coming from around the corner, I dozed off into a deep but restless sleep.
I don't know how much time had passed but I found myself more than half asleep, facing the wall. I heard and felt someone lie down next to me. He was careful not to let a single part of himself touch me, probably to reduce the risk of waking me. It didn't matter - I could almost sense every part of him, as if he was exuding some sort of palpable aura. My body moved of its own volition and I rolled over, still self-aware enough not to actually touch him.
"Edward?" I murmured, trying to fight through the confusion and fog of sleep. I knew it was him, even though I couldn't see him between the darkness and my fuzzy vision.
"It's me, Bella," he said in a low, husky voice. "Is… is this okay?"
I didn't really answer, I just made an 'mmmm' noise. My body relaxed, no longer so worried about boundaries as my knee touched his leg and my hand rested on his shoulder, and I started drifting back to sleep.
When I next regained a measure of consciousness, I was on my back. The part of me next to the wall was cold but the other part was deliciously warm as Edward was curled on his side toward me. His hand rested on my stomach and his leg was pressed against me, although our bodies maintained a somewhat respectable distance elsewhere. All I could understand was the contrast between heat and cold and I instinctively moved towards the warmth of his body.
It was still dark when I half opened my eyes and then closed them again, determined to make the most of the time until my alarm went off. As the haze of sleep still enveloped me, making my mind and body feel like they were moving through molasses, I realized that I was aware of a touch – something brushing against my bare rib cage. A soft hand where my shirt had ridden up. And wisps of breath against my neck, so faint but causing an almost unbearable amount of sensation. Edward's forehead rested against the side of my head so that his mouth, complete with those beautiful lips, was just under my ear. I tingled everywhere and willed myself to stay asleep and enjoy the dream.
But as his hand gripped me harder and his lips brushed so, so softly against my neck, I started to try to process the idea that I was waking up and this was actually happening. I wasn't awake enough yet to really control my actions, though. Still acting on autopilot, I stretched and arched my body towards him, feeling his lips on my skin with more pressure and his arm move with me. He was still asleep, I was convinced of it. His actions didn't speak of deliberate motion. They were as unconscious as mine had been. I briefly wondered if this was wrong. Was I taking advantage of him? Should I move away?
Then he made a small rumbling noise and nuzzled further into my neck. Fuck it, I thought, I don't care if it is wrong. I can always pretend I slept through it. If he could be… doing whatever was happening in his sleep, so could I. Slowly, I rolled towards him so that his lips, which were still barely brushing back and forth against my skin, moved along my jawline until we faced each other. Our mouths were so close that we were breathing the same air, panting it back and forth.
Less innocently, his arm continued to hold my body against his, so that our hips came into full contact. I could feel his arousal against me and I couldn't help but press into it gently.
Our lips moved closer together and touched. And again. Achingly slowly, soft brushes became firmer until – holy fuck, were we actually kissing? And was his hand really moving up my side, still under my shirt?
I was pretty much fully awake by this point and I couldn't imagine how he could be sleeping, either. Sleep gyrations and heavy breathing were one thing, but full on sleep-kissing? That could not be possible. I kept my eyes shut tight, wanting to keep the 'I was asleep' get out of jail free card. I wasn't ready to see his expression when he realized what was happening and then pushed me away.
The kiss slowed down and stopped, although the slight shifts in pressure our hips had been exchanging didn't. I had decided to keep my eyes shut, but curiosity got the best of me and before I realized that I was making the decision my eyes fluttered open. The moonlight coming in through the window allowed me to see Edward with his eyes open, looking as shocked as I'm sure I did. We stilled.
I couldn't think of a single thing to say.
Apparently, neither could he, since we stared at each other in stunned silence for a good ten seconds. Then – this could not possibly be happening – he moved his face back towards me, giving me time to retreat if I had wanted to, and kissed me again. He was awake. I was awake. And we were kissing.
Fuck, we were more than kissing. His hand was still under my shirt and I was still moving my hips against his erection. There's something that happens when two people are together in the middle of the night, when the rest of the world is asleep, that makes you feel like you're the only people alive and the rest of the universe ceases to exist. I realized then that I didn't care how awkward tomorrow could be. I didn't care if he didn't feel the same way about me as I did about him. I didn't care if this never happened again. I just wanted this to happen now.
I pushed him so that he rolled on his back and I straddled him. It seemed like the most natural thing in world. His arms gripped my body hard so that I was still pressed against his chest and we were still kissing fervently. I wanted to keep kissing him and keep from seeing his face, as sad as that was, since I knew we'd end up talking or something, which sounded way less fun than what we were doing now.
I sat up and quickly took off my shirt, since I knew he wouldn't go further without some indication of my consent to turn this into sex rather than just making out. He followed me up, so that I was sitting in his lap with my legs on either side of him as we faced each other. He was running his hands up and down the bare skin of my back and sides as he buried his face in my neck, making me shiver with the motions of his tongue. I tugged at the hem of his sweater, desperately wanting to feel his skin against my own, but I didn't make much progress. Thankfully, he got the idea and stripped it off himself. I'd seen him in a bathing suit before, so his gorgeously sculpted chest wasn't a surprise to me. Unlike last time, though, instead of blushing and drooling from afar, this time I had permission to explore. And explore I did, with my hands and with my lips, all over his chest and abs as I pushed him back down.
When I reached a nipple and flicked it with my tongue, he let out a low groan that thrilled me. He reached around to unhook my bra. I removed it and lay back down with my bare breasts against his chest. I was totally turned on just from the foreplay. In addition to how I felt about him as a person, I was attracted to Edward in some deep and animalistic way that I hadn't really felt for anyone else. Actually fooling around with him was astoundingly arousing. I could feel my pussy throbbing and tingling and I knew I was getting wet, just like when I fantasized about him while masturbating late at night. Okay, and sometimes in the mornings and afternoons too. He was just so muscular and beautiful and… Edward.
He took advantage of my moment of stillness by flipping me onto my back and moving down by body so that he could reach my breasts with his mouth. I moaned as I wove my fingers through his messy hair. But he wasn't interested in going slow and neither was I. You'd have thought that I would want sweet, slow loving from someone who I was pretty much in love with, but I didn't. I wanted to feel desired – needed – in a way he couldn't control, the same way I felt about him. I had held it back for so long that my lust was like the breaking of a dam – powerful and wild.
I frantically reached for my pants and tried to get them off while he was still on top of me, underwear and all. He went to take his off as well. It was actually pretty awkward, but after a few seconds we were both totally naked lying on the futon, facing towards each other. I still avoided eye contact. I don't know if he was doing the same thing, but somehow I thought he would be. I could feel his erection against my hip and moved to touch it, but he was faster and had me on my back with him beside me, his mouth on that exact spot on my neck that drove me crazy – how the hell did he know where it was? – and his fingers running along my slit. He groaned as he felt how wet I was and I made a fairly embarrassing squeaking sound as his finger touched my clit. How many times had I imagined how good he must be with his hands, since he was so good at playing the piano? I was totally right.
He started slowly, moving up and down, but he quickly concentrated on flicking my clit back and forth until I came. It just kept building and building – I kept expecting it to peak and be over but it went on for what felt like forever. That moment when the world stops, your body seizes and it's impossible to believe you could experience so much sensation finally arrived and I cried out softly. I swear, it couldn't have taken more than 45 seconds of his hands on me. Is it embarrassing for a girl to come that quick, or does that only apply to guys? He bucked against my side as he felt my pussy convulse and the sensation faded. I reached my hand down and ran my fingers up and down his length. It felt so soft and hard at the same time. Penises really are amazing.
He rolled over and started flailing over the side of the futon and I couldn't understand what he was doing until I saw his shaky hands (why were his hands shaky?) pulling his wallet out of his pants pocket. Still a little dazed from the fantastic orgasm, before I knew it he was sheathing himself in a condom and was back on top of me. I ran my hands up his back and clutched his body to mine as he positioned himself between my legs. He kissed me again as he hesitated momentarily, but I pushed my hips up to meet his and he got the idea.
When he first entered me it felt like it wasn't possible for two beings to be closer – our bodies were connected at every possible point. In that second I loved him so much that it felt like my heart would break. I was pretty quickly distracted, however, as he sped up his pace and arousal spread through my body again. The sensations he caused in me were so overwhelming that even actual intercourse – something that usually doesn't actually get me close to orgasm – was bringing me towards another peak. When he shifted all of his weight to one arm beside my shoulder and brought the other down between us to rub my clit some more, I cried out and came again. Given my sleep deprivation and the intensity of my orgasm, I actually saw stars. His pace increased until he groaned with release and then slowed to a stop. It wasn't gentle or touching sex. It was wild and fast and hard.
When we were done, I was afraid we'd have to face reality. Talk about what had just happened, qualify it as an act of madness, renounce it. I wasn't ready for that. So I let myself rest with my head on his shoulder, which was as motionless as I was. A fleeting thought of panic entered my mind in that moment between consciousness and unconsciousness: I needed to put my clothes back on. We were still in the office, for heaven's sake. The silence at this point was oppressive, it had meaning in and of itself. I sat up, gathered my scattered clothes and wiggled them back on, all without really looking at him. I couldn't let myself think about it. Clothed again, I pressed myself against him, wanting some kind of proof of a connection, even if I couldn't ask for it. This time, I fell back asleep for real.
A door slammed and I heard a melodic voice saying: "Good morning!" It was Alice. It was morning.
I bolted upright and looked around. My cell phone was thrown across the room, clearly a casualty of my refusal to wake up. Edward was nowhere to be seen, but I could hear him replying to Alice from his desk.
As Alice rounded the corner, I asked her frantically: "What time is it? Oh my god, did I miss the deadline?" She laughed and handed me a coffee and a paper bag.
"Nope! It's only 7:30. And now you have breakfast. It's a chocolate chip bagel." She stopped and considered me for a moment. "Are you okay?"
Was I okay? Had I dreamed what happened last night? What would today be like?
"Yeah, fine, just still half asleep. Thanks for the breakfast, you're the best." I rubbed my eyes and took a sip of the coffee. As I took some time to collect myself, drink some coffee and eat some of the bagel, I listened to Alice chatter about the night she was planning for this Friday, when we'd all be done our papers. I couldn't stop thinking about Edward right around the corner. What was he thinking? What would he say? What was happening between us? It's not like we could talk then, anyway, since Alice was around.
I ate as much of the bagel as I could and Alice went to her own desk to get back to work. I stood up stiffly and, with my pulse racing, I walked by Edward's desk on the way to my own. I let myself flick my eyes towards him for just a second and he was hard at work, didn't even look up.
I sat down at my desk. Even after a few hours on the futon, my body felt like it hadn't left the chair in ages, tight and cramped. As I stared at the screen full of my writing, I seriously wondered if I had gone crazy and had started having delusions. Or maybe he was so ashamed that he was just going to pretend it didn't happen. It would be easy – absolutely no one knew except us, and if we both pretended it didn't happen, it would be just like it never having happened at all. Except that I knew what it was like to be in Edward's arms, and I wasn't sure I could be satisfied by anyone else, ever again.
The necessity of finishing my paper finally snapped me out of my musings and I got to work on the editing. I was totally jarred when I heard Alice hiss my name from behind me. I swung around, never having heard that sort of noise from her before, and saw that her eyes were full of shock, confusion and something resembling panic. I let her pull me by the sleeve out into the hallway. As the door closed behind her, she looked around to make sure no one else was in the hallway. Her voice was still unnaturally low and tense as she asked:
"Bella, why did I just find a condom in the trash?"