A/N: Thank you so much for all the feedback on the first part. These boys were stuck in my head and I couldn't stop thinking about them, so I had to write more. Thanks to Mamdi for betaing, as always. She's the best!


Peter

I wake early the next morning, still wrapped around Jasper like an extra layer. I extract my limbs gently and look down at him, relaxed in sleep. The haunted look that his face usually wears is gone and he looks younger, like the nineteen year old he really is.

Jasper's face is pale. His messy dark blond hair tangles on the pillow and his jaw is softly shadowed with stubble. His eyelids flicker and as I watch, his mouth turns down at the corners, sadness tainting his features again. Something clenches in my chest. I've been in love with him for years and he has no idea. I've never seen the point in telling him because I don't believe that he could ever love me back. My beautiful, broken best friend.

I climb out of the bed carefully and slip out of his room. I return and leave a bottle of water and some Tylenol on the nightstand, so that he'll find them when he wakes. I go through to my own room and slide between my cold sheets, missing the warmth of his body. I need more sleep but it eludes me. Instead I lie for a long time, thinking about Jasper and wishing that I could fix him.

I always knew that he had this darkness inside him, but he kept a lid on it back in high school. I was aware that things were tough for him at home. His father was a bastard; but Jasper didn't like to talk about it. It wasn't until Jasper's mom finally kicked his dad out, when Jasper was sixteen, that he finally admitted to me that his father was an abusive alcoholic who'd treated him and his mom like shit for years. His Father left town and never got back in touch. Jasper was glad to see the back of him.

Jasper seemed to handle it okay; he got through high school with decent grades. He fooled around with girls while I watched from the sidelines. I already knew then that I wanted Jasper, but assumed that he was straight.

He was the first person that I came out to. I needed him to know and he was cool about it. He never treated me any differently, and I never told him that I had feelings for him that went beyond friendship.

We ended up at college together in Seattle. Neither of us had wanted to move too far away from family, so it was the obvious choice. We got a place together and that's when everything started to get fucked up. Jasper started going out a lot at night, drinking heavily. At first he'd pick up girls and bring them back to the apartment, and I'd try not to listen while he fucked them.

Then, after a while, he stopped bringing girls home but would stay out later and later every night. When I challenged him about it, he told me that he thought he might be gay. He was experimenting, he said – as though it was something fun and exciting and I should be happy for him. But he never asked me if I wanted to go out to the clubs with him. I was worried about him. Every time he went out he'd come back in a worse state than the time before. He'd stagger in drunk, smelling of sex. But he always looked defeated rather than satisfied. I took to waiting up for him – to make sure that he got to bed okay, I told myself.

But last night – last night was the worst I've ever seen him. The sight of him in the bathtub, so vulnerable, marked by careless teeth and fingers made me want to weep. I roll onto my front, burying my face into my pillow and clench my fists as I feel the hot tears prickling behind my eyelids. I don't know how much longer I can bear to watch him do this to himself.

XOXOXOX

We never talk about what happened, but after that night something changes. Jasper stops going out to the clubs. Sometimes we go out for drinks with friends from college and he still drinks too much when we do, but we end up going back to the apartment together. Other nights he just stays in and we hang out, studying together, or watching TV and playing video games.

He still looks miserable half the time and doesn't take care of himself. But the self-destructive cycle of going out and getting fucked into oblivion by God-knows-who seems to have been broken, at least temporarily. I long to ask him about it, but have no idea how to broach the subject.

I don't know what words to say to help him, so I try and be supportive in other ways. I make sure there's always food in the fridge. When I cook for myself I make extra for him – I swear the guy would live on cereal if I didn't make him eat something else once in a while. I throw in a few of his things when I do my laundry. I wake him up in the mornings with coffee to make sure he's up in time to get to his classes.

And I watch him, and long to touch him. But I'm used to that; I've had years of practice after all.

One night, a few weeks later, we get a bit wasted together. Not for any particular reason, we just drink a few beers while we play Call of Duty. After a while we've had enough of the game and lie back on the sofa at opposite ends, our legs stretched out side by side. I close my eyes and enjoy the pleasant buzz of the alcohol in my system for a while.

"I'm sorry, man," Jasper's voice cuts unexpectedly through the silence and I open my eyes to see him looking at me.

"What for?" I ask, confused.

"For being so fucked up. For all those times you had to put me to bed." His eyes pin me, stark gray and unwavering, but I can see the shame on his face.

"You'd do the same for me," I reply lightly.

"Yeah, but you don't do stupid shit like that."

I'm silent for a moment and feel his legs shift against mine. His foot bumps my thigh.

"Why do you..." I correct myself. "Why did you do it?"

He leans his head back and closes his eyes. For a moment I think he's not going to answer me, but then he starts to speak, hesitantly.

"At first I only went out to the clubs to dance and flirt, to have a good time. But then one night I was drunk and got carried away with this guy. He fucked me, and I liked it... more than I ever thought I would." I listen, part of me not wanting to hear about this, but I asked him the question and it's too late to take it back. "After that I wanted more... but then I couldn't stop. There was something about being wanted, about making someone come. It made me feel good at the time." His voice breaks, becoming hoarse as he continues. "But I knew that it was fucked up, and that I was out of control and it scared me... but I couldn't stop."

I reach for his socked foot, hold it in my hand and squeeze gently as I speak. "So, what changed?"

He raises his head and looks at me again, his face flushed and taut with tension. "That night... that last time it happened, the night you bathed me and put me to bed…" He drops his eyes again and his voice is so quiet I have to strain to hear him. "I felt so fucking pathetic and ashamed. But you were so gentle with me and something snapped inside. And then afterwards in my bed..."

He pauses again and I'm suddenly struck with a vivid memory of him crying in my arms. I squeeze his foot harder, longing for more contact but afraid to offer it.

"You asked me to stop," he says simply.

There's a long silence. There are so many things I want to say to him but I don't know where to begin. Eventually I pull out the one thought that seems the most relevant.

"Being wanted doesn't mean anything if they don't know who you are."

I look down at his foot as I speak, and notice that there's a hole in his sock on the side of his big toe. I touch my thumb to the skin that shows there while I wait for him to reply.

"Well I guess that's the problem isn't it?" Jasper finally sighs. "I can't imagine anyone who knows me actually wanting me." He laughs then, but the sound is utterly devoid of humor.

I feel my heart beating hard in my chest and I open my mouth to speak, not giving myself time to change my mind and keep the words in.

"I want you."

For a moment I think I might vomit, my palms break out in a sweat and I can hardly breathe as I stare at him, searching his face for a reaction.

"You don't." He's emphatic. "You're way too good for me, Pete. I'd only hurt you."

And maybe he's right. He's hurt me already countless times, without even realizing it. But I don't care anymore. I want him to understand how I feel about him and I'm no good with words, so I show instead of tell.

I lever myself up and crawl forward to straddle him. He looks up at me, his face surprised, but he doesn't stop me when I lean in and kiss his lips.

He lets me kiss him, tentatively at first. But then I deepen the kiss, parting his lips with my tongue and he lets out a shaky breath as our tongues touch. My fingers are on his jaw, touching his stubble and sliding into his hair. It's a tangled mess as usual and my fingers twine there, holding his head just so. I kiss him harder, trying to show him with my actions the things that I'm too afraid to say.

I rejoice as I feel Jasper's hands on my thighs, then they slide up beneath my t-shirt to find skin. I moan into his mouth as his thumbs skim my hipbones and a hot jolt of want sears through me. He grips my hips and grinds up into me and I feel his cock hard against mine. His tongue's in my mouth, hot and insistent and it's all I can do pull away.

"Not here," I gasp. "Bedroom."

If we're going to do this I want to do it properly. I want him in my bed.

I disentangle myself from him and take his hand, twining our fingers together as I pull him up. I kiss him again then, softly on the lips, before pulling him gently down the hallway and through the open door of my room.

I switch the lamp on by my bed; I want to be able to see him clearly. We stand there for a moment, suddenly awkward with each other. He looks at me and there's something almost like fear in his eyes, but I can see hunger there too. I'm shot through with tenderness and desire all mixed up together and it's almost too much.

My hands tremble as I reach for his t-shirt and pull it up and over his head. He lifts his arms to help me, then watches as I strip mine off too. I remove the rest of our clothes, pausing now and then to kiss him again. Jasper's compliant but strangely passive, just watching me and only helping me when my shaky hands fumble with the button on his jeans. Finally we stand naked, facing each other. He's so fucking beautiful, I ache to touch him.

I take his hand again and pull him down on the bed. We lie side by side for a moment, staring at each other. After so many years of wanting him I can't believe that this is finally happening. He seems to be waiting for me so I take charge and kiss him again. This kiss turns hot pretty quick and as the urgency builds between us I roll him onto his back. Our legs tangle and our cocks slide together, hot and hard.

I want him so much but I force myself to slow down and pull away from his lips so I can drop kisses along his jaw and down to his neck. He tips his head back to give me access and I lick and suck, tasting the salt of his skin as he hums in pleasure. I move lower, exploring the texture of his collar bones and shoulders. I find the scar on his shoulder that I know will be there; the perfect crescent made by another man's teeth. I trace the delicate skin with my tongue, wishing that I could obliterate every trace of that brutal mark.

I map out the terrain of his body with my hands and lips and tongue as he sighs beneath me. His fingers slide in my hair, brush over my shoulders, gentle and tentative. I kiss each hipbone, thankful that the bruises that bloomed on them that night in the bathtub are long gone.

When I reach his cock I nudge it with my nose before licking slowly up its length. His fingers tighten in my hair and he spreads his legs wide. I settle between them, taking his cock in one hand so I can pull it away from his body and fasten my lips around the head. I suck gently, swirling the pre-cum around with my tongue and tasting his sweet saltiness. He's moaning now, his hips hitching, and as I drag my other hand up the inside of his thigh to tease the skin behind his balls with my fingertips he grips my hair tightly.

"Please!" His voice is rough and makes my cock twitch.

I don't want to break our connection to reach for lube so I stretch my hand up and touch his lips with my fingertips. He parts his lips and draws two fingers in, sucking and licking until they're slick with spit, then releases them.

I work a finger inside him, determined to be gentle, but he pushes against me greedy for more. I carry on sucking his cock as I add a second finger, curving them in as deeply as I can, making him clench around me and gasp. I thrust slowly, gentle but relentless, and feel him opening up around me as he whimpers and moans incoherently.

I pull off his cock to look at him, he's flushed and his eyes are dark, pupils blown wide.

"You like that, Jas?" I murmur.

"Fuck… yes," his voice is desperate. "I want you… please, Pete."

"What do you want?" I want him to say it. I need to know that he wants this, there has to be no doubt in my mind.

"I want your cock… I need you inside me," he gasps, hardly able to get the words out as I twist my fingers inside him and slide my other hand over his straining dick.

"Yeah, yeah you do," I meet his eyes and smile at him as I slowly withdraw my fingers.

I reach into the drawer beside my bed for lube and a condom and return, covering him with my body, kissing and stroking him until he clutches my ass and begs again. Then I move back down between his legs and use my fingers again, with lube this time, scissoring and stretching to make sure that I won't hurt him when I use my cock instead.

"I'm ready," he growls impatiently. "Now, Pete… I want you in me."

Fuck, his commanding tone makes my dick throb. I can't wait anymore and I know he's ready. I pull my fingers out, making him gasp. He's already got the condom in his hand and tears the wrapper frantically, placing it over the tip of my cock as I kneel over him. He rolls it down and I gasp at the feeling of his hands on me.

I move back down between his splayed thighs and line the head of my dick up at his hole. I look up at him as I push inside, needing to see his face, needing the connection. Our eyes lock together and he bites his lip and moans as I slide into him. When I'm fully inside I stop for a moment and lean down to kiss him. He curls a hand around the back of my neck as our lips part. I feel his hot breath in my mouth and the soft touch of his tongue.

He bucks his hips up, urging me to move; so I do. Slowly at first, but he pushes up against me, wordlessly begging for more as our kiss deepens. Tongues slide and teeth nip and soon we're moaning into each other's mouths as I push deep into him with every thrust. I draw back, wanting to see his face again and he looks lost in sensation. His eyes are closed, head thrown back and he gasps and clutches my hips, pulling at me, making me slam into him. I feel the tension building in my balls and at the base of my spine and I know that I'm close, but I want him to get there first.

"Touch yourself, Jas." It's my turn to beg now. "So close… I want you to cum."

He wraps his hand around his cock and jacks himself furiously. He opens his eyes and they lock with mine, and then he's coming, spilling onto his hand and abdomen as his ass wrings out my release. I tense and shudder, my hips jerking uncontrollably and my cock twitching inside him as I cry out his name.

It's only when I come down from my high that I see the tears seeping out of the corners of his eyes. I brush them away with my fingertips and lean down to taste them, and he wraps his arms around me and clings. I relax into his tight embrace, burying my face into his neck and breathing him in. I listen as his heartbeat slows and steadies.

When I feel myself start to slip out of him I shift slightly and he releases me.

"Don't go anywhere," I drop a kiss on his lips. "I'll be back in a sec."

I dispose of the condom and go to the bathroom to fetch a washcloth. When I return I wipe him clean as he mutters his thanks. I climb back into bed and pull him into my arms, hoping that he'll stay. I feel like we ought to talk about what just happened, but as usual I can't find the words. So I just hold him instead.

His breathing becomes slow and even and I feel him relax gradually into sleep. But I lie awake for a long time. I'm trying hard to feel hopeful, but mostly I just feel afraid.

When I wake up in the early hours, Jasper's gone. The sheets next to me are cold and I feel a matching icy clutch around my heart. I roll onto my back and curse myself for being stupid enough to believe that one fuck could change things. I just hope that I haven't made things worse.


A/N: I hope you enjoyed this update. Don't be expecting a long multi-chaptered epic out of this, because you'll be disappointed. It's only going to be a few chapters (hopefully not famous last words)… but there is a little more to come. I'll try and keep the updates fairly frequent, that's usually how I roll.

Please review!