Hello again, thanks to all of you who have taken interest in this story, love you all.

This chapter is late and shorter than usual but I hope you enjoy it.

Disclaimer: I do not own Twilight

Chapter 7

If anybody saw us it would be a very awkward situation. Two naked men locked in an embrace in the middle of the forest. Our legs entangled, our sexes touching just enough to fill my mind with fantasies and desires, the light mist that covered the forest floor enveloping us, like something taken out of a dream. Yes it was a dream, but one with the potential of turning into a nightmare at any moment.

All I could do was wonder what the future had in store for us, if it was up to me, I would stop time right now and enjoy Paul's company like I had never enjoyed it before. But I couldn't control time and we were out in the open where any hikers could see us. Nobody would stop and see that Paul's eyes were red and his face was blotchy from all the crying, nobody would care, they would see what they want, but truth be told it didn't look very innocent. Going against my wants and needs, I peeled myself from him and stood up, immediately untying my pants and donning them.

Stretching out my arm I offered it to him. "C'mon buddy let's get you home." Very slowly Paul stood up, wobbling slightly the moment he came upright. He looked like he was carrying the weight of the world on his shoulders, his skin pale and his eyes devoid of life. Concerned with his obvious weakness I debated whether or not to place my arm around his waist to gently guide him towards the house. He made the decision for me, placing his arm over my shoulder while giving me a remorseful look. I snaked my arm on his waist, sighting internally feeling perfectly content with having him so close to me.

We walked slowly towards the house not even one word leaving our lips. His steps were unsure but I was there to help him, even carry him if it became necessary and I am sure that he would allow me to. After walking inside his house he went directly to the sofa and laid down on his side, facing me. I stayed in the kitchen fixing him something to eat since I knew that a big part of his weakness was due to the distinct possibility that he hadn't eaten anything since the day before.

I found some soup I had frozen the week before and placed the small plastic container in the microwave to thaw it out. I filled a soup bowl with the hearty concoction and brought it to him. "Paul, you need to eat something, sit up so you can have some of the soup I made last week. No arguments. Just do it." Surprisingly he sat up and I handed him the steaming bowl.

Turning around I started walking but couldn't take two steps before his gravelly voice reached my ears "Don't go."

"I'm just going to your room to get you a pair of pants, I'll be right down." He looked down seemingly embarrassed by his nudity. I sat beside him on the sofa and waited until he was done eating before handing him a pair of cutoffs.

After doing the dishes I came back to the living room, relief washed over me seeing him still sitting up and not curled up into a ball. I walked towards the only seating besides the sofa in the small living room and sat silently. I had no intention of making him feel like he needed to talk to me; if there was something I understood perfectly was the pain of a broken heart, and when your heart aches you don't want to be bothered.

I observed him as he sat back and closed his eyes. I took that as a hint and stood up to leave, I guessed I had overstayed my welcome, but since he was not strong enough to kick me out he was using his body language to make it obvious.

"Where are you going?" Asked Paul in a pathetic little voice.

"Home, you probably want to sleep."

"I don't want to be alone Quil, please stay. I can order some pizzas and watch movies." What Paul didn't know was that he didn't need to bribe me or buy my company. I would stay beside him as long as he needed me. I would do anything he wanted to do, be anything he wanted me to be. Whether it was wing man, friend, confidant, boyfriend, lover or husband, anything, as long as it was by his side.

"I guess I can stay for a little while but I have patrol tonight."

"You seem to be doing a lot of shifts." This was wonderful, at least he was trying to carry a conversation. He snapped out of the semi-catatonic state I found him and seemed more awake.

"Yeah, Jake covered most of my shifts while I was staying here so I'm paying him back."

"Shit I have a gift for making people's life harder than it needs to be." I almost opened my mouth to refute him but he was right, if it wasn't for the decision of taking his life, I wouldn't have needed to stay here in the first place. He needed to be held accountable for his action, I loved him and sympathized with his situation, but that didn't mean I was going to baby him.

"Paul do you want to tell me what the hell happened? How did you end up in the middle of the forest?"

"I don't want to talk about it Quil." Answered Paul in a monotone. I tried to meet his gaze but succeeded only once, Paul's eyes kept shifting back to the floor or got lost in some point off in the distance. Why was he averting my gaze? I didn't want to read too much into it but couldn't help it, when it came to Paul everything was a big deal.

"Ok I'll respect that, but I wish you would trust me enough to share it with me. There shouldn't be any secrets between us."

"It has nothing to do with trust, I just can't tell you, please don't insist."

"No problem." I surrendered for the moment, sooner or later I would get my answers.

We spent the rest of the afternoon together in Paul's house. He still looked pitiful but at least was able to carry a conversation and even swore a few times. I couldn't help smiling each time a little of his personality shone through. I wanted my friend back, I wanted the man I had fallen in love with, I wanted the cocky, ill-tempered, dirty mouth asshole I loved. The little glimpses of him I got filled me with joy and even if I didn't want to accept it, with hope.

"I got to go, patrol starts in fifteen minutes, I'll see you tomorrow."

"Wait, don't go yet, I want to give you something." Paul ran upstairs and after a few minutes made his way back down.

"Here" He handed me a shiny key.

"What's this?"

"A key, idiot."

"I can see that jerk." My heart soared at the normalcy of our conversation. The only evidence of his heart wrenching episode was the dark circles around his eyes and the slight red tint in his eyes. Our exchange was like many others we had before.

"It opens the front door."

"Why are you giving me a key to your house?" My heart was beating off my chest; Paul probably heard it and looked at me confused. In my mind I was already devising what lies I was going to tell him to cover for my slip up, but he never questioned me.

"You're my best friend and you almost live here anyway, so I want you to know you can come anytime you want, mi casa es su casa." Glad to see Paul was putting to good use the two years of Spanish he took in high school.

"Thanks man, now it will be easier to come steal your food."

"As long as you come, I don't care if you eat everything in the refrigerator." Paul answer caught me by surprise; he was always so sure of himself, cocky and opinionated. He seemed different, he was acting like a scared little boy, he was needy and insecure. It may seem cruel but I liked this Paul, the idea of my wolf needing me filled me with glee.

"Can I get it in writing?"

"Fuck you Quil, but maybe you won't need to, since you were supposed to start your patrol two minutes ago and Jake is probably going to hand you your ass back anyway."

"Oh shit!" I took off running out through the back door, not before hearing Paul's laughter resonating inside the house.

After patrol I went home to find a note on my bedroom door telling me Paul called to invite me to lunch. I was exhausted, around two in the morning Embry caught a faint scent near the border and we spent several hours making sure we didn't leave one inch of our borders unprotected. It was becoming more common every day and we were all concerned about it, to the point that Emily, Kim and Seth were not allowed to leave La Push without proper escort; we wouldn't take any chances with any of the imprints. If anything happened to any of them it would be devastating for the whole pack.

I got to Paul's house ten minutes before noon; even from a distance I could detect the distinct smell of burning cookies. As I got closer the smell got stronger and it joined the sound of Paul's cursing in an attack to my senses. Inside the house the light cloud of smoke made it more than obvious that my friend was still the worst cook in America.

He looked so flustered; I could've sworn he wouldn't have recognized his own mother if she walked through the door. Paul moved about the kitchen like the mad hatter, tossing a tray of cookies in the sink before opening the faucet. His eyes were watering, beads of sweat sprinkled all over his forehead. By his appearance anybody would guess he had just finished a race, when in reality he had only been trying to make lunch. I bit the inside of my cheek to prevent me from bursting out laughing.

It was very sweet that he was making such an effort, but it was funny as hell that he was failing miserably. "Hey Quill, don't you dare laugh! I'm fucking pissed! Everything was working out fine. I made butternut squash soup, chicken breast and salad and everything turned out just fine. Since I had some time left I decided to make some cookies but forgot to set the timer and well, you see the results." Why was Paul giving me so many explanations? It made me feel good, important even, but it was unnecessary. He was talking at a thousand words per minute, while opening windows in an effort to ventilate the house and get rid of the smell.

"Don't sweat it man, I appreciate all your effort." I said sincerely.

"Quil you have done so much for me and all I've given you are bruises and fucking burnt cookies." Paul was visibly upset, running his fingers through his hair roughly.

With every passing day I had been having more and more slip ups, if this continued in no time he would be able to figure me out and that would be the end of my existence. I wasn't even thinking when I approached him. My body was in autopilot, following an order from a brain that clearly was not mine, since I would have never done something so risky.

I approached Paul and pulled him towards me surrounding him with my arms in a tight embrace. Instead of taking a swing at me like he would have done in the past, Paul sighed deeply and held on to me. His whole body relaxing in my arms, I could feel as each of the muscles in his back relaxed under my touch. He rested his head on my shoulder, his cropped hair tickling my ear. I felt like I was in heaven, hopefully this would not turn into another moment in hell.

This was baffling; Paul's behavior was odd and inexplicable. Maybe this was the reason my guard was coming down, he was so receptive to my advances that I was just reacting. My reasoning shut down completely and was replaced with plain animal instincts. The feeling of being accepted encouraging me to be more daring.

I braced for impact the moment I felt him begin to break the hug. Instead of removing his hands from around me, he slid them slowly from my neck tickling me with the tip of his fingers as they brushed against the sensitive flesh of my neck. His head that until that moment was resting on my shoulder followed the same path as his hands with the difference that he brushed his lips against my cheek.

Did Paul give me a kiss? I tried to convince myself that it was impossible, but I was sure about what I felt. His soft lips touched my cheek; that was something I was sure of. The reason behind it was very puzzling. The logical side of my brain was having an unprecedented battle with my intuitive side. My emotions were governing my actions and that was never good, especially when dealing with an unstable wolf.

Going against my own will, I pulled away from Paul and took a step back, watching him carefully for any sign of aggression. He just walked in the direction of the kitchen and resumed his previous task. I sat down on the kitchen table and he brought to the table two steaming bowls of soup, after placing one in front of me he sat down and we ate in silence.

The tension between us was so extreme that you could almost see it. Our eyes never met, our mouths did not mutter one word. Usually I could use humor to beat situations like this one, but at that moment I was incapable of even thinking what to say. At exactly what moment our friendship turned from comfortable to strained? I wished I could see inside his head, I was getting extremely weird vibes from him but denied those feelings. It was like my mind and my heart got together and decided to mess with me.

"Paul this soup is really good, when did you learn to cook?" I needed to say something no matter how stupid and a compliment was less likely to get me beat up.

"I know a few recipes, when I was younger my mom used to work and when she got home I would go into the kitchen to help her cook. We would have the best conversations, she taught the basics and when I decided to move here she gave me a box with recipes."

"Wait a minute, correct me if I'm mistaken, but you have always said that you couldn't cook."

"I said I wouldn't cook, it's very different."

"Why? You're obviously not as useless in the kitchen as I thought."

"First if the guys find out I can cook there will be no way to get rid of them and I like my privacy. Second it's kind of gay don't you think?"

"Why is everything gay to you? You have serious issues Paul, maybe you should see somebody."

"Sorry man, take it easy, I was joking. Why is that such a touchy subject with you? I'm going to think you play for the other team."

"I'm not saying I do, but if I did, what would you do? Beat me up?" Paul seemed to be thinking about my question, he looked deep in thought, confused and sad at the same time.

"I wouldn't beat you up Quil, I would never hurt you on purpose. I have the potential of hurting you by accident, I'm an idiot sometimes and that gets me in trouble each time." No argument from me. As Paul went silent once more I began daydreaming, grabbing at straws, scrutinizing each and every one of his words. I would never hurt you on purpose; I wished I could believe him. Hopefully he was changing for the better, just for him to think of somebody besides himself was as step in the right direction. There was another possibility, one I didn't even want to think about. Maybe he was just cramming for finals, the knowledge that he was going to die in a few weeks making him want to get all his affairs in order with the man upstairs, including working for some extra credit.

"Everything was delicious Paul, thank you." I said before standing up to bring my plates to the sink. Paul beat me to it, grabbing the plates from my hands and turning to place them in the sink.

"You're welcome." He answered sheepishly without turning around.

My eyes were glued to Paul's strong back as he was doing the dishes. He was definitely a feast to the eyes, strong shoulders, ample back, a firm ass that begged to be fucked, preferably by me. Fuck, Quil get a grip! Feeling about to lose control I moved to the living room and turned on the television, aimlessly flipping through the channels just to keep myself busy.

"I want to lie down on the sofa Quil." Demanded Paul the minute he walked in the living room.

"Ugh ok I can take a hint, see you tomorrow." I motioned to get up but Paul's hand on my shoulder held me firmly in place.

"You don't have to go, please stay."

"All right but this is my sofa, I'm not moving." For the first time that afternoon Paul gave me a bright smile that erased years from his appearance in matter of seconds. He plopped himself beside me and snatched the remote from my hand.

"The sofa may be yours, but the remote is mine." I laughed heartily and he followed suit, relaxing at last.

"Ever heard of personal space asshole?"

"I sit where I see fit, you're welcome to sit somewhere else." Paul kept his eyes glued to the television screen, but the obvious smirk betrayed him. If this was going to turn into a battle of wills I was ready to fight. I was too stubborn to give in and stayed in exactly the same spot.

If it wasn't for the fact that I was in love with Paul, his proximity would have made me very uncomfortable. Didn't he notice that he was too close to me? His leg touching mine, the heat from our bodies feeling like painless fire on my skin. Our scents combining on a cloud of desire and unrequited love.

A little more than an hour passed before I felt a set of eyes on me. I tear my eyes from the worthless images in the television and discreetly glance in Paul's direction. His head was slightly down, his gaze directed in the general direction of my hands which I had for lack of a better place, placed on my lap. What was he looking at? He was probably just lost in his own thoughts and didn't even realize he was staring. To confirm my suspicion I moved my hands interlacing the fingers but still leaving them in my lap. His reaction was immediate; he looked around nervously but without even stopping to look at my face went back to staring at my hands.

I didn't mind the attention, I actually loved it, but he was starting to creep me out. Then it happened… Paul extended the arm that was closer to me and gently placed his hand over mine, softly pulling them apart. One by one, starting with his pinky, he moved his fingers until they were nested between my own. When his thumb came over mine he squeezed our hands tightly. Awestruck I observed our intertwined fingers, disbelief etched on my face. My heart beating loudly on my ears and spit getting stuck on my throat. What the fuck was happening? Was this some kind of joke?

I silently prayed it was not a joke, the contact of the palm of his hand against mine felt safe. His fingers blending with my own, the shared warmth running through my veins directly to my heart. I never wanted to let go, I was scared of his reaction, but at the same time felt he was telling me something with this unexpected contact, I just didn't know what it was. Maybe he was as scared as I was but wanted to open his heart to me, but to what? Friendship, he already had that, I had proven it to him time after time. Love, if only I was that lucky.

Paul was holding my freaking hand! Not just holding it, he interlaced our fingers, a closeness I never expected from him. He wanted to be close to me, to occupy the same space as me. If this was a joke I would fucking kill him and anybody involved in the prank. I was glad nobody else was there, that way nobody would witness my humiliation when he rejected me.

"Paul, what are you doing?" If this was a joke I needed to know before I made a fool of myself. If it was real, I wanted to start enjoying it as soon as possible.

"I'm holding your hand." Stated Paul.

"Do you realize you're holding my hand, me, another male."

"I know where you're going with this Quil, it looks very gay to say the least. But it feels right to me and I hope you don't mind."

"I don't mind Paul." I answered feeling as my heart was doing cartwheels in my chest.

I rested my back against the sofa once more, not quite sure at what moment I became so tense I moved forward. Paul relaxed beside me sighing heavily. The program we had been watching ended and a new one started, it was a Law and Order marathon and the trademark doink-doink was the only sound that momentarily claimed my attention back to the television. That attention didn't last long and short after it I felt myself slipping once more into the cycle of daydreaming.

The developments of the last hour were exciting but terrifying. What possessed Paul to hold my hand in such and intimate way? Especially when a few minutes before we had been discussing his obsession and irrational fear for all things he might consider gay. What changed in the last hour? Or maybe it had been changing for some time and he just stopped fighting it, said to hell with it and went with the flow.

Paul reached for the remote and turned off the television, I wouldn't have noticed if it wasn't for the fact that the living room suddenly seemed darker. As the afternoon progressed a storm broke out and the heavy drops were punishing the roof and the windows of Paul's house. The dark gray skies making it seem a lot later than it actually was.

"Quil?... Will you kiss me?" I was dumfounded, I heard wrong, that was it. All my blood was rushing to my dick, leaving me with next to nothing to sustain basic functions.

Hoping again this was not a cruel joke I nodded affirmatively and licked my lips nervously. I looked into Paul's eyes trying to find any deceit in them, but only found peace and desire. It was a strange combination that worked in our situation. We both hesitated but moved slowly toward each other, his warm breath making my mouth water in anticipation to the delicacy I was about to savor. Uncertain of the step I was about to take, I stopped an inch away from his lips, but Paul took command of the situation moving forward and making our lips meet.

At first it was a gentle lingering touch of the lips, he nibbled my lips almost playfully, never letting go of my hand. I twisted my body so I was facing him and angled my head to give me better access to his delicious lips. They were so soft and inviting; I kissed, sucked and nibbled on Paul's lips with total abandon. All caution out the window, just like the night he got drunk and kissed me, I went with it willingly. Hopefully today will end up a lot better.

I whined softly when the warmth of his lips left mine, he smiled softly and also turned so he was facing me. Because of our size we were too far from each other, but Paul solved the situation by tucking one of his legs under his body and sitting on it, while the other went over my lap. He pulled himself so close that I was able to feel on my hip the evident hard- on he was sporting.

"Quilly" He whispered dreamily while placing his arms around my neck. Paul looked intently into my eyes like he was trying to decipher all the secrets that lay dormant in my soul. I felt my pulse quicken even more, my body trembling when he closed his eyelids and resumed his kissing. I kissed him back avidly, lovingly, the way I dreamed during so many long lonely nights. Each time his lips touched mine it felt like the first time, each contact of our lips was perfect.

"Paul" I whispered to him, his name sounding like a prayer as it left my lips. A sacred prayer that I would devote my life to love and honor. I was utterly clueless and slightly intimidated, after all, most first kisses have the potential to be awkward. For all intended purposes this was our first kiss since the first one happened as the result of a drunken stupor and not true emotion. This one was different; it was completely driven by emotion and need. I needed Paul almost as much as he needed me.

Paul's body was pressed against mine, the heat radiating from our chests making our shirts become soaked in sweat. His hand cupped my cheek, his thumb tracing soft shapes on the soft skin. His hot pink tongue peeked out between his parted lips, the wet tip softly touching my lips. He was begging for entrance, he urged me to deepen the kiss and I gladly accepted. My hands shot up to his soft curls threading my finger on his inky locks. He moaned when I scraped his scalp with my nails.

Our lips moved vigorously, our tongues battling for dominance inside my mouth. Just the fact that the battle was taking place in my mouth and not Paul's telling me that he was the one dominating the moment. I didn't mind, I accepted it gladly. He left one hand on my cheek and moved the other to my neck where he scraped the sensitive skin with his dull nails. Our tongues twisting and turning in perfect coordination with each other.

The kiss was so intense that it made me even forget my name. I forgot where I was, I forgot who I was, but one thing I would never forget was the person to whom those wonderful lips belonged.