A/N: I see now that the first couple of chapters are going to be shorter chapters. So, the fic will likely be more than five chapters, but only because of that. STOP LAUGHING AT ME. It'll still be short. Probably.
Now
"Edward Cullen, if you keep on huffing like that, I'm going to mistake you for a choo choo train."
Edward looked over at his best friend, smiling at her despite the twinge in his stomach. "There's a good pick-up line in there somewhere. I might mistake you for a choo choo train and ride you all the way down the line."
She chuckled and returned her gaze to the road as she drove. "Smooth. So smooth." She waited a beat before she asked, "You're really nervous, aren't you?"
Edward huffed again and stared out the window. He'd always thought the forest around Forks was oppressive somehow—too thick and dark to be beautiful. He hated how he felt like he was being dragged into it. This should be a happy time for his family.
But that was the great thing about Bella. He could tell her anything. Everything. He saw a sign announcing they were less than thirty miles from Forks, and he shuddered. His throat tightened. He crossed his arms over his chest and sat up straight. "The good people of Forks don't take well to folk like me," he said in a faux-unconcerned drawl.
"Not going to lie, I think it's kind of shitty for your family to do this to you."
"This isn't about me. This is Rosalie's week," he said, trying his best not to sound bitter. Rosalie's time at Forks High was very different from his.
Bella took her hand off the steering wheel and reached over to squeeze his knee. "It's a week. A week, and then you'll never have to be here again."
"Yeah. Unless Rosalie and Emmett decide to move here." He crossed his arms over his chest.
Bella was silent another moment. She reached over and caressed his hair. "Edward, you're not fifteen years old anymore."
His breath left him in a gust, and he laughed—a nervous sound. He hated this. He'd worked hard to be confident and fearless. He felt anything but right then. "Neither are they. You know? And there are a lot of them."
"Yeah, well. You have me."
Edward grinned. "Thank goodness for small miracles. "
"Don't worry, Edward. The worst thing that's going to happen is that you're going to have to go a whole week without any cock."
"No cock?" Edward threw his head back dramatically. "However will I go on? No one should be expected to survive under such conditions. Ugh."
~0~
As much as Edward wasn't happy to be back in Forks, he was glad to be with his family. When he and his sisters had grown up, everyone had scattered. Their parents stayed in Seattle. Edward had migrated toward California. Rosalie had ended up in upstate New York. Alice—adopted in infancy by Carlisle and Esme Cullen, Edward's parents—had found out she had a biological sister in Philadelphia. She'd met her now-husband there on one of her visits and had stayed.
Why his socialite older sister held such nostalgia for the dreary, trashy town of Forks, Edward had no idea. If ever a town could be the antithesis of Rosalie Cullen, it was this one. But when she found out their old house was on the market, she'd bought it. She and her fiancé flipped houses for a living, so they said it was an investment. Again, Edward couldn't see why anyone would invest in a house in Forks. No use trying to polish a turd.
Rosalie had insisted the whole family take a week's vacation to reconnect and get the house ready for her wedding. She was turning it into her own private venue for the occasion. She and Emmett had already been in Forks for three months, renovating.
"It's Alice's fault," Rosalie said when they were all settled around the dinner table. "She was the one who planned this dream wedding when we were teenagers. The house is here, and now I want what we spent hours talking about. I want it in all of its ridiculous glory."
"I planned that wedding for me," Alice said, waving her finger at her sister.
Rosalie quirked an eyebrow at Alice in challenge. "Yeah, and then you ran off and married this guy overnight," she said, nodding at Alice's husband, Jasper.
"Three days." She looked over to her husband who took a moment to smile at her even as he tried to wrangle their three-year-old son, Peter. "Although, I guess you're right. I would have married him the night I met him if I could have."
"I still think you're crazy," Edward said, shaking his head.
Alice flashed him a grin. "Hey, I just knew. We both did. Five years and one point five kids later, I have no regrets." She patted her hugely pregnant belly. "Well, except what my maid-of-honor dress looks like with this. Elegant and pregnant aren't words that go together."
"This is what I like about your family, Edward," Bella said, bumping his side. "They're full of weird, wonderful stories. I could write a book and make millions on that story alone."
"Your story is much more interesting," Rosalie said.
Edward saw the look in her eyes and knew what she was about to do. It was too late, though. Before he could protest, Bella had asked, "What story?"
"How to Turn A Gay Man Straight, by Bella Swan. It has a nice ring to it," Rosalie said innocently.
"Rose," their mother admonished.
"No, she's right," Bella said. Her voice was calm, but Edward could see the fierce gleam in her eyes. "That's not an accurate title, but our story would be interesting. Especially with a few fictional flourishes. We're good, if unconventional, partners—more than roommates, less than lovers. I could make it sell."
Edward smirked and leaned over to kiss her cheek. He'd figured Rosalie would open her big mouth. His sister was bigoted in that quiet, almost acceptable way. She often told people she had no problem with Edward being gay; she just didn't want to have to see it. She couldn't really grasp anything that existed outside her heteronormative experience—women married men and had babies. That was the reality she knew. Why anyone would want to deviate from that path, she couldn't fathom.
She'd been more than a little miffed when Edward said he was bringing Bella with him to Forks. "Family only," she'd said, but Bella was his family. Theirs was a society obsessed with labels, and under those rules, he and Bella were in a relationship.
Which was why they found themselves sharing Edward's childhood room that night. It was what they were used to, after all. They shared a bedroom at home in California.
It was an arrangement they'd come to long ago. They got along famously—better than any of the actual couples they knew. They were each other's support systems. They had an honest, deep love and affection for each other. What they had worked for them.
Bella was asexual—sex did nothing for her. She didn't want it, didn't need it, and didn't particularly like it. Not a lot of people could accept the idea of being in a relationship with little to no sex. It wasn't unheard of, but Bella hadn't found a good match yet.
Edward had the opposite problem. All he had was sex. There were two reasons for this. The first was practical. He was an admitted work-a-holic with no regrets. He worked hard at what he did, was in the midst of building a company he was proud of, and it was more important to him than finding the right man to settle down with. Everyone had their priorities—the things they wanted most in life—and Edward's job was his. The second reason was simply that he wasn't the easiest partner to have, and he was a picky bastard. If he was discerning about his food, his shoes, and the color of his car, why wouldn't he be a snot about who he might potentially spend the rest of his life with? He had yet to find a man whom he wanted to see more than a few nights at most.
Still, both Bella and Edward liked the idea of a partner. Edward daydreamed of his own wedding day, standing in front of a man who challenged him and loved him for all he was. He had a vague faith that day would come, but for now, he leaned on his best friend when he needed support. He had someone to cuddle with and wake up next to. Life was good. For now.
Edward was already in bed, tapping away at his laptop when Bella got out of the bathroom. "Put it away, Cullen. I'm coming in."
He raised his head. "Nuh uh. You and your wet hair aren't allowed in bed. Try again."
She put her hands on her hips. "That's how you're going to play it, huh, Cullen? Are you sure about that? Because if I have to send you to sleep on the couch, your sister's head might explode."
"It's not even healthy to go to bed with wet hair. You'll catch your death."
"Your father is a doctor, asshat. You don't catch deadly viruses just because your hair is wet." She lifted the covers.
"Don't do it," he warned.
She raised an eyebrow and put her knee on the bed.
Edward put his laptop on the nightstand. "Isabella Marie."
"Oh, now you've done it." She lunged into bed at the same time he moved to block her.
A few minutes and one playful wrestling match later, Edward was on his back, flipping through e-mails on his phone. Bella was curled up against him, her head nestled on the ever spreading wet spot on his chest. She yawned, snuggling closer.
"You already sleepy?" he asked.
"May I remind you our flight left at the buttcrack of dawn?"
He snorted. "Honey, nine in the morning is hardly the buttcrack of dawn."
She just grumbled. They were silent for another few minutes. Her breaths were even, but she wasn't asleep. When he scoffed, she was awake enough to mumble, "What?"
"Apparently, they've almost got uterus donations figured out. Men, transwomen, and barren women might be able to carry their own children soon."
"That's cool," she said around a yawn. "That's what I love about science. Always providing me with ample possibly-true-to-life plot bunnies to play with." She yawned again. "So many bunnies."
With a grunt, she rolled over, away from him. "You're all wet, Edward. You can't expect a girl to sleep on a wetspot. It's rude."
He rolled his eyes but reached over and stroked his fingers through her hair affectionately. "Goodnight, Bella."
Edward had to admit he was tired. After Bella was asleep, he realized he was exhausted. He'd been working double time in order to prepare for this trip. He flipped back to his business e-mails, determined to be done in the next twenty-five minutes so he could get to sleep himself.
As he worked, the article he'd read kept popping up in the back of his mind. He knew a friend who'd be very interested in the idea. So though he was tired, when he was done with business, he copied the link. He flipped through his apps on his phone, trying to find the Facebook button.
His sleepy, uncoordinated fingers hit Grindr instead, and Edward snorted as the program loaded. Right. Grinder was a gay dating app designed to let him know when other gay men were nearby. Forks was a tiny town and isolated. The nearest gay man was probably in Port Angeles. Or if there was another gay man in town, it wasn't like he was going to advertise his presence. For being in the very liberal state of Washington, Edward knew damn well Forks was still as far behind the times as it had been when he was a kid.
Unfortunately, his phone was doing an annoying thing where the screen froze until the app finished loading. He flicked at the screen in reflexive annoyance. In reality, it only took a few seconds to load. He was about to hit the downsize button when the phone chimed, telling him he had a waiting message.
Edward hesitated, taken aback. That someone was messaging him on this app meant someone knew he was in town. Forks was tiny. This person was close, they knew he was gay, and that made him nervous.
He grunted and shook his head in self-admonishment. They knew he was gay because they were on a damned gay dating app, which meant they were in the same boat he was. Curious now, he clicked on the message icon.
Garrett: I think I know you.
Edward's broke out in a cold sweat at those words. It was ridiculous, he tried to tell himself. He reminded himself again that Forks was tiny. It was the kind of town where everyone knew everyone else. Anyone who'd lived in Forks a decade ago could have known him.
Then again, his picture was of the statue of Adonis, not his face, so…
Edward: Really? What makes you say that?
He tapped on the edge of the bed, trying to swallow past the lump that had risen to his throat. He could have tapped on the guy's name and brought up his profile. No need to wait on tenterhooks like this. But somehow, he couldn't bring himself to do it.
Garrett: You're my age. I went to high school with an Edward who's supposed to be in town for his sister's wedding.
Fucking. Forks.
Edward felt light headed. Spots danced before his eyes.
You're my age.
He'd gone to high school with exactly one Garrett, and oh Christ, did he remember him. Garrett who so often stood off to the side, watching as his friends pushed Edward around, knocked his books from his hands, and stuck their foot out when he was passing. Garrett who had thrown out the occasional, "Faggott," while his friends taunted and threatened Edward.
It couldn't be.
With trembling fingers, it took Edward a few tries to tap on Garrett's name.
All the breath left his body.
It was him. All grown up and hotter than hell. His eyes seemed to pierce Edward from the screen. His smile was cocky and…
And Edward flung the phone away from him. It hit the wall with a loud thud. He felt Bella jolt awake beside him, but he'd already crumpled forward, his head in his hands, his breath erratic.
"Edward? What happened? Edward?"
He felt Bella's hand on his back, but he couldn't speak. He wanted to say too much.
Forks was so small. It was so goddamned small. It was small, and Garrett knew he was there. He probably knew exactly where he was.
Rational or not, Edward had the sudden fear that Garrett was messaging him from right outside. He had the urge to run to the windows to see. His skin crawled.
"Edward," Bella said sharply. She gave his shoulders a shake.
"I'm fine," he managed with a gasp. "I'm okay." He was trying to convince her and himself, but they both knew he was lying.
Of course, he'd known damn well there was always a chance, a fairly good chance, that he'd run into one of them. He was as prepared as he could be for it to happen in public. Not here. Not like this.
It had taken him so long after Forks to feel comfortable with himself, to embrace his life as a gay man. For a long time, he hadn't fit in well in either world. He wasn't straight, but he hadn't been confident enough to date men. It had gotten better, and these days, he navigated real life encounters and dating apps with ease.
So for that kid, that man, to find him was a violation. Suddenly, he'd lost the last fifteen years. He was just a kid, his head turned toward his locker, hoping and pleading with any deity who'd listen to let those assholes pass him by.
Please, please, please.
He closed his eyes tightly and hoped he was having a nightmare. Of course, when he opened them, nothing had changed. He was still back in Forks, cowering into his best friend's arms, the last fifteen years of strength and progress a distant memory.
Like the fifteen-year-old kid, he had no idea what he was supposed to do.
A/N: Many thanks to JessyPT, Packy 2.0, MoH, Mina, and songster for everything they do for me.
How we doing, folks?
