The First Step

Full Summary - Edward has long struggled with his identity. His place in the world, whether he would experience it alone, all these things have been up in the air. When a boy with the most alluring blood arrives in Forks, Edward realizes that he may have known even less about himself than he thought. Vampires. This story starts out more or less as a slash version of Twilight, but it certainly won't just be a dull retelling. There's too many opportunities for fun here for that... So while it may seem repetitive at first, please stay with me.

Please excuse the brief foray into het in this chapter. It was necessary, but won't happen again.

Also, both Beau and Edward will be somewhat OOC, Beau simply because he isn't technically Bella (though they are similar) and Edward because the occasional case of potty mouth and dirty, dirty mind is just so right.


M for Mature! If you want Edward to have his guy on guy sexytime, you'll get it eventually.

A/N - I have currently chosen the name 'Beau' as my male replacement for Bella, as they share a meaning and I think it sounds nice. However, this is not completely set in stone. I am open to suggestion on this matter, see the author's note at the end of this chapter for more.

I do not own Twilight or any characters featured therein. Belongs to Stephanie Meyer. I sorta own Beau though...?

Chapter One - Lonely Trees

There are precious few at ease with moral ambiguities

So we act as though they don't exist

-The Wizard of Oz

BPOV

Damn airplane food. As we began our descent into Seattle, whatever it was the stewardess had served at one was beginning its own dark ascent. The plane briefly leveled out, and the battered book in my hands was safe for the moment. Glancing at the page number, I realized I had been reading the same paragraph over and over for at least the last hour. The windows had darkened as we submerged through the thick canopy of cloud hanging over the city. The deep rumbling of distant thunder echoed. I hoped this was for the best. I certainly couldn't be for the worse, not if I could keep my mouth shut.

I flipped the book back to the front page, even its title escaping me now. 'Beau' was still there, in my untidy scrawl, above the title where I had written it so many years before. A tear threatened to well up, but I blinked it away.

Crybaby.

I shoved the book into my ugly fluoro backpack and made a vein attempt at pulling up the zip. Goodness knows what possessed Renée to purchase a fluorescent backpack, I certainly wouldn't have picked it out myself. That thought prompted a small stab of guilt - I had never really talked to my mother about much to do with anything over the last few years. How was she to know what damn color backpack I would want? Giving up on the zipper, I simply clutched the useless bag closed and held it against my chest as the plane lined up with the runway.

---

"Hey, c'mon already! Just hurry up and pick!" the boy called, irritated that the captain of the other team just couldn't decide. Of course he couldn't decide, the only options left were a boy who had a broken arm and myself.

"Seriously, would you be able to decide between these two?" the captain replied, smirking at me. "I got a choice between broken arm and fagboy here. What am I supposed to do?"

---

The tear made an unwelcome return, and landed on my t-shirt before I had the chance to stop it. What a happy seventeenth birthday that had been. This would definitely be for the best. The seatbelt light went off and the plane began to empty, while I continued to gaze out of the window, not wanting even these strangers to see my flushed face and reddened eyes. The rain beating relentlessly against the window distorted the figures dashing about on the ground.

"Sir, please. It's time to leave."

I jumped, and turned around to see the stewardess smiling gently at me, a concerned look in her eyes. I realized that the plane was empty save for us, and I quickly wriggled out of my seatbelt and fled her gaze. After spending most of my life in Phoenix, Arizona, I had decided to bite the bullet and move in with my dad, Charlie. He lived in the rainy middle-of-nowheres-ville on the Olympic Peninsula where I had spent the first few years of my life. Apart from its rainfall statistics, there was little to distinguish this town named Forks from the leafy, moss-covered trees that loomed over it from all sides. The perfect place to disappear. The perfect place for me.

As I stood waiting for my baggage to arrive, I noticed one more small upside of moving to Washington. In Phoenix, my year-round pallor was a constant source of material for my tormentors in the years before the realized they could also make cracks about my sexuality. They may have been right, but that didn't mean they knew for sure. They were far too stupid for that. But I was shy, and a bit bookish, and thus an easy target for any label. I didn't really fit any kind of stereotype I could think of - fashion escaped me, and my soft brown hair reacted angrily at any attempts to style it. I certainly didn't have a gaggle of girlfriends surrounding me as we made snide remarks about who was hot and who wasn't. No - girls no more wanted to be my friends than boys did. Which isn't to say I was friendless, I just stuck with those who I belonged with. The card-players in the library at recess, the corner-tablers in the cafeteria at lunch. I was a bit lonely sometimes, but I wasn't unhappy.

Of course, that all changed when I hit my late teens without ever having drawn the interest, are having attempted to draw this interest, of a girl. Unforgivable, even amongst the marginalized. Not that they bothered me for it, but the other students did. Not-so-subtle remarks behind my back, nasty notes in my locker and a classically unpleasant gym class became my new school routine, but even that I could deal with, seeing as I didn't care for what they thought of me anyway. Once they started beating me, though, I realized it had gone far enough. I couldn't stay in Phoenix, I needed a new start. Renée's new husband, Phil, was looking to go on tour with his baseball team for a while anyhow, and I knew my mother wanted very much to join him. The decision was easy, it would give mom the time with her husband she wanted and it would give me a chance to start at a new school. Girlfriend? No, I couldn't possibly. I had one, back in Arizona. A serious one. Didn't go so well, though, and I'm not thinking about relationships until I get to college. That's what I would tell them, these Forks kids.

"Beau!" a familiar voice cried, and I turned around to find myself crushed in my father's embrace. "Been too long, buddy." The display of affection was unusual, but warranted as it had been at least a year since I had seen Charlie. I had always gotten along great with my dad, we were both the reserved type, and we both appreciated the simple fact that the less you said, the less you could slip up on. Charlie didn't know I was gay, but that really did not matter in the slightest. The last thing I wanted at Forks was to let that have anything to do with my life - if one part of the story I was going to tell the kids at Forks was true, it was that I wasn't even going to think about relationships and the like until I was in college. If they were interested enough to listen to my story at all.

Still, it was good to see Charlie again. My erratic, flighty mother and I had begun to lose touch around the time I hit my teens. She was so eager for her handsome little boy to win himself a girlfriend, and so eager to be involved in my life in general. I loved her, and I wished she could have been, but I was far too insecure to let her in on the more private aspects of my life. Not that she really would have minded the truth, a small voice in my head reminded me. She would probably squeal with delight and insist on shopping sprees or some such nonsense that would make me want to gouge out my own eyes. But that would have made it far too real, for her to know. Arizona held nothing for me anymore.

Charlie, on the other hand, knew how I worked. The same way he did. Quietly, and without fuss. Kindred spirits, I liked to think of us. As hard as starting over would be, I couldn't really think of a better place.

"So... how's your mother been?" he asked, apparently unable to think of anything else to say. I sighed with relief.

"She's fine. I think Phil's good for her. Less yogalates classes lately, and no skydiving." It was a relief to know that Phil would, quite literally, be able to keep Renée's feet on the ground.

"Good, good. Well, how about we get you home, eh?" Charlie mumbled. He hoisted my suitcase and we made our way out of the airport. The heavens promptly release a downpour over our heads, soaking us both right through. "Welcome to Washington, kid." Charlie smiled. The ride from Seattle to Forks in Charlie's police cruiser was pleasant enough, though I dreaded the thought of having to ride to school in it.

---

"The fuck are you looking at?" Adam yelled at me. The bus heading up the road? I was sitting on the path outside of my school in Phoenix, desperately trying to follow the shifting shadow of a small tree to keep the sun from toasting my fair skin as I waited for my ride home.

"N-nothing." I mumbled, trying to look busy as Adam and a few of his friends headed up towards the bus stop.

"Don't look like nothing, fagboy. Fucking checking me out, weren't you? You're a fucking pervert..." he growled. I desperately tried to keep looking down at my shoes. The sole of my shoe was starting to come loose, probably because I was so damn flat-footed. Perhaps I could try that thing where they put books on their heads to fix their posture and-

"HEY! I'm talking, here!" Adam shouted. What was his problem? I thought he didn't want me to look him? Not that I would have wanted to. His eyes were entirely too far apart for my liking, and his piggy nose made him look as though he had run head-long into a brick wall. Being on the football team might be good for your social aspirations, but -

"DAMMIT! You're fucking dead, fagboy!" he bellowed as his fist made contact with the side of my face.

---

A few more tears crept up on my eyes as I stared out the window as the trees grew closer together, the clouds grew even thicker and the thunder continued its gentle rumble. Why me? The scars, the bruises - eventually I would get over them, I hoped. Memories, now, they were a bitch. Images of fists and feet in my head, taunts as I tried to sleep.

---

"STOP IT! Stop... you'll kill him..." a girl sobbed. No, they wouldn't kill me, I thought grimly to myself, my thoughts somehow separate from the abuse being inflicted on my frail body. Far too easy, and ultimately far too painless for me. That and they wouldn't want to risk those sports scholarships... I felt them being dragged off of me, and the girl gently looked into my eyes to make sure I was still conscious. The bus driver and a few other guys dragged Adam and his cronies away. "Please be okay..."

---

The roar of a passing motorcycle, surely breaking the speed limit, pulled my from my memories and the car was immediately sprayed with muddy water in the bike's wake. I looked up to see the house of my early childhood in front of me. It had seen better days, not that I minded. I looked comfortable, it looked cozy. It had small front and backyards, beyond which the forest sat, mysterious and beautiful, yet seeming to keep a respectful distance from civilization. Still, one lone tree stood tall in the backyard, the emerald green of the moss and the reddish-brown of its bark creating a stunning contrast as it reached upwards towards an upstairs window.

"Not going to book that motorcycle, chief?" I raised an eyebrow at Charlie, pointing my head in the direction the bike had gone. Charlie looked around, then ran his hand through his hair.

"I would, if I could keep up with it. Darn thing goes so fast I can't catch it or the numberplate." he sighed angrily.

I stepped out of the car, falling further than expected and lading with a slosh in a large puddle. Perfect.

"Oh sorry, I forgot that was there," Charlie said apologetically, "never usually anybody getting out of that side of the car. I'll fill it in tomorrow." I clambered out of the puddle, my poor new shoes now a potential write-off, and looked back at Charlie to see him standing nervously by a bulbous red truck. "Billy over at the reservation thought you might be able to find a use for it. His son Jake fixed it up himself for you, and I know you kids don't like having your parents drive you to school an' all."

I grinned, for what felt like the first time in a while. "Thanks, Charlie." The truck really did look charming - and in need of some company. "I love it."

Inside, the house was the same odd mixture of warm, rustic hues and unfortunate mid-eighties designs that I remembered. Charlie showed me up the narrow staircase to my room. No midnight escapades for you, young man, I thought to myself as I carefully picked my way up the stairs. Renée's house had no stairs, and I would be lucky to survive these in broad daylight let alone in the dark. My room still had the same little bed I had slept on during the odd summer I had spent with Charlie, and also the old computer that I had tried unsuccessfully to start.

"Jake fixed that old thing up, too." Charlie added. "Don't know how much it'll be good for, but you should be able to type up your homework and email your friends with it." Friends, sure. Can't wait, Charlie, I thought ruefully. I had a few people I spoke with occasionally at school, but I had my doubts they would even notice that I had gone. He stood awkwardly in the doorway as I poked around the room. We had left my shoes and suitcase out on the porch to dry, so I had carefully extracted the few things I had brought with me from Phoenix (mercifully spared the torrent by the surprisingly robust suitcase) and dumped them onto the bed. "So... the game's on, I'll be downstairs if you need anything. Dinner about six, that okay?" he asked.

"Yeah. Yeah that's fine, Charlie." I smiled, hoping to ease the moment. I felt a little guilty for dropping myself into the middle of Charlie's life so suddenly, but I rationalized that he was my father, and we were both the type to stay out of each other's way anyhow. The least I could do was cook something. "How about I make us steak for dinner? No takeout."

"Great!" Charlie's face lifted at this. He was no cook, but there was always a good steak or two and a freezer full of fish to be found in his kitchen. I would make myself useful. Charlie was good enough to take me in for the last two years of my schooling, and in return I would give his poor old heart a few extra years by cooking something lean and healthy as often as I could.

I lay back on the bed and stared out the window. The silence was barely disturbed as distant thunder began its gentle hum once more, and the tall tree outside the window ruffled its leaves slightly. I leaned over and extracted my flute from the small pile of clothing on the bed. I may be a danger to myself and others in most everyday situations, and my scrawl illegible to all but the most trained teacher's eye, but this I was good at. This gave me some peace. I began to play gently, not wanting to upset Charlie's sports. I'd join him if I felt up for it. In earlier years I would profess my support of the Redsocks just to see him turn red with rage.

The melody came forth almost of its own accord, sad and lonely. But, at the same time, hopeful. Was this how I felt? I supposed so, I knew this shy bookworm was going to have as lonesome a time in Forks as he would anywhere else, but something about this melody seemed foreign. Beautiful, but strange. Like it felt hope for the first time in a long time. Then the melody slowed, and felt pained. I almost felt sorry for it, as my fingers glided over the flute almost of their own accord.

I stopped, not wanting the tears to make their appearance again, even though I was alone. I began to sort through the small collection of muted sweaters and jeans I had brought, deciding that as much as I loathed clothes shopping, I would have to venture out and purchase something a little warmer to wear. I had brought a little money with me, and I supposed that Charlie wouldn't mind contributing a little to the let's-not-catch-pneumonia fund. Still, it would have to wait a few days. I couldn't think of any clothes shops in Forks aside from a store which also sold tents and the like, so I would have to make my way at some point to nearby Port Angeles.

A small gust of wind came in through the open window and I shivered, instead wrapping the bed's quilt around me to keep warm. I picked up the flute again, and the same slow, sad but once more hopeful melody filled the room, accompanied by the low rumble of the thunder.

Outside, the tree stood as still as a statue in the breeze.

EPOV

"Alice, please will you stop staring at me."

The little pixie had been looking at me strangely all day, as though she were seeing me for the first time. Her thoughts offered no clues, as she translated presidential speeches into binary. Not that I particularly cared at this point what she was thinking, or what she saw. The novelty of hearing the thoughts of others was one that wore off very quickly, and these days there were few things I would not give for a moment's peace.

"I just wish you would stop fucking staring!" I growled, making Jasper shoot me an annoyed glance.

Don't yell at her, man. What's your problem?

"Sorry, it's just that... sorry." Alice smiled, turning back to the dress she was making. Entering a fashion show in Paris under a pseudonym or some shit. I smirked at my own language - for a long time I had prided myself on being such a gentlemen, yet lately I found my mind and my manners slipping. Edward, I do wish you wouldn't speak that way to your sister, she thought from the garden. I sighed and threw the book I had been reading back on the shelf. It held no interest right now. I couldn't even find solace in my piano today, no matter what I tried all melodies escaped me.

Running my hands through my hair, I stood up and wandered out into the garage. My faithful Volvo stood guard over its fancier neighbors, but I passed it by and headed towards my motorbike. My baby, my thoughts purred, as I ran my hands over the leather seat and the shiny body. I swung one long leg over it and felt it rumble beneath me. Ride me, go on... Fuck. These... mannerisms. I don't know where they came from, but my temper and my... emotions... were not doing their usual job of keeping me in check. I revved the engine as loudly as I could, before taking off out of the still opening garage door, Esme's hair flailing about in the slipstream I left behind as she worked on her flowers.

I pushed the bike as hard as it would go, thanking the time I had decided to spend at MIT and the illegal parts I had imported for the glorious roar that burst forth from the engine as I hurtled down the wooded road towards Forks. Not today, Chiefy-poo, I smirked to myself as I tore by Chief Swan's cruiser as it pulled into his rundown old house. I heard a satisfying splatter as the car was pelted with muddy water from my indecent speed. He had never caught me so far, and damned if he ever would. My baby is too fast. The engine purred contentedly beneath me, and I patted it gently as I pushed even harder into the mountains. Though I would be merely a blur to any who saw me pass, I watched with great clarity each moss-covered rock, tree and stream along the deteriorating road.

Here, I am free.

I loved my family, truly I did. But sometimes it was hard to feel connected with them. True enough, it could be hard for any vampire to connect with another, yet I often felt somewhat on the outer amongst all those damn couples.

Out here, though, it's just me and my baby. The bike roared in ecstasy as I squeezed harder with my legs, and pressed my feet down hard on the pedals. So very wrong, I thought to myself. The bike didn't fucking roar in ecstasy. But nobody rides me like you do...

---

I dragged my fingertips over Tanya's breasts, lingering around the sides near her ribs. I let my fingers wander in gentle circles. She writhed a little beneath me. She was close, very close.

"Do not move." I growled, looking down into her amber eyes. It was... easier this way. If I was in control. Always in control. I pressed my weight down on her, and she stilled, as my fingers continued in their journey over her breasts. They walked gently over to her nipples - they were hard. I was hard. As a rock, and yet bored stiff. Tanya groaned with pleasure, causing me to smirk, pinching her nipples tightly as she shivered. I bit my way gently down her stomach, my tongue coming to rest just above her entrance.

"Edward..." she moaned, her eyes rolling back in her head. As mechanical as this felt, there was always something fulfilling about seeing a vampire reduced to this. A quivering mass beneath me, ready to produce whatever response I desired. I nipped playfully at her clit, and Tanya let out a scream, her back arching off of the bed. It wouldn't the first bed you broke, I thought as I dipped my fingers inside her and licked about. One more bite, and she came around me, the headboard reduced to splinters in her flailing hands.

---

Damn girl, I growled. It had been a month since I had slept with Tanya. And damn myself for thinking so ill of her. There was nothing serious, and we both recognized what we had for what it was. For her, it seemed, it was just sex. For me, it was just release. Like the blood of an animal, it worked, but I never felt truly satisfied. My thirst was never quenched, no matter how often I did it, but I could never quite wrap my mind around what was wrong. But I knew something was.

Something was always missing.

A/N - Yes yes, I know I promised guy/guy sexytimes, but let's not rush things. Now about the name - I am pretty much settled on Beau, but if somebody has an absolute brainwave and comes up with something much better, I may be willing to change his name. Has to start with a B, though! And I am aware that there are forms, such as Bell and Bela, which CAN be guy's names. But no thanks.

Reviews make Edward horny...