Disclaimer: S. Myer owns all, but what I wouldn't give for a Jasper of my very own-sigh.
A/N-For those that read S&S as well, you will notice that updated at the same time. This is because S&S and L&F will begin to mesh quite a bit for the next few chapters, so they will be posted simultaneously. Also, those that read S&S first will notice some scenes repeated here (and visa versa) with a L&F twist of course.
Warning: derogatory language near the end. Oh, and the angst I mentioned last chapter? As they say, so it begins.
This Peter is the AU of S&S Peter, in L&F, he and Charlotte are not married.
My lovely beta is busy with work so this chapter is unbeta'd, all errors are mine and mine alone. Huge hugs to Dannie for the encouragement and feedback.
"**~~**"
Never Can Say Goodbye
Location: Abilene, TX (Conflicted)
"**~~**"
Even though the pain and heartache Seem to follow me wherever I go
Though I tried and tried to hide my feelings
They always seem to show
Then you try to say you're leaving me
And I always have to say "No"
Tell me why is it so?
That I never can say goodbye ~Gloria Gaynor
"**~~**"
"I know something happened, Jasper." I shook my head, denying his accusation. "Fuck, don't give me that shit, I know you, I can tell," he sighed, plopping down on the couch next to me.
It was late, a few hours since I had gotten off the phone with Edward. After his call, I had sat in the bedroom for a few minutes absorbing the story he had told me. With my elbows on my knees and my face in my hands, the tears started. The mixture of fear and relief in Edward's voice had been staggering, ripping me to the core. Guilt overwhelmed me, he had needed me, even if just to hold his hand and offer support on what he had witnessed, and I hadn't been there.
I had been with Peter.
Touching him, kissing him, coming with him.
There would be moments in our lives that we wouldn't always be there for each other, that was a given and I accepted it. But I felt I had let Edward down, I had been selfish coming back to Texas to relieve a childhood long since gone.
But I had to. I had to see Peter, I had to say goodbye to what could have been, to what he and I might have had. Although I hadn't expected such an intimate goodbye, it had been what we both needed, and I only realized that after we had left the river.
It had been silent in the truck as he drove home. I had sat next to him with my head resting on his shoulder, his hand holding mine in my lap as we made the relatively short drive back to his house. Our tryst had been powerful, primal, full of need and want, desire and passion…and yet…
It had been Edward's name that I associated with love.
Though there was no doubt I loved Peter. It was just…different. It was the love of possibility, of broken dreams, of something that you know is there but never quite becomes tangible, something you can't quite explain or put words to.
With Edward it was everything else.
Somehow over the years, Edward had weaved our lives together so completely that each and every breath I had was for him, because of him. He was the one that gave me the strength to face every day, to wake up, to try to be the person I wanted to be no matter how many times I fell short. He was always there to pick up my broken pieces. The one time he needed me to pick up his pieces, I had failed him by not being there-once again falling short of the man he deserved.
Of the love he deserved.
When we had arrived back home, Peter and I walked into his house, our hands together until we reached the threshold, then he squeezed mine tightly before letting it go and walking into the house where Charlotte had greeted us with excitement while Bella just smiled and rolled her eyes at the shopping horror stories Charlotte began to tell us.
When I had walked back out into the living room after the call, Peter's eyes never left me as he watched me with the intensity of an animal watching its prey. Even as I attempted to hide it, his uncanny ability to read my moods allowed him to see something was upsetting me. Bella too had sensed something, offering me an out of the blue hug. After a few hours, Charlotte and Bella had gone to bed, but Peter had stayed up with me, joining me on the couch bare-chested in his soft, gray pajama bottoms.
Gently, he placed a hand on my thigh.
"Jasper?" he hedged. With a heavy sigh, I laid my head on his shoulder seeking a comfort I didn't deserve.
Taking a deep breath, I began to tell him what had happened, what Edward had witnessed and the end result. As I told the story, I could see emotions flash in his eyes, each one there mere seconds before moving onto the next; anger, sympathy, jealousy, frustration and grief before they finally settled on affection.
Vivid and clear, his affection for me was strong and deep and willing.
When I finished, he shook his head. "I can't believe shit like that still happens in this country. I mean, not that it's acceptable anywhere, but I can understand it happening down here where there is less tolerance, but up there?" he paused. "It just ain't fucking right. Some poor kid loses his fucking life because he likes dick. Big fucking deal. He wasn't hurting anyone, he was just living his life…" he stopped, as if he was at a loss for words.
"I didn't realize that hate crimes still happened. I thought it had gone away in the nineties but I guess not."
"Nah, shit Jasper, it happens all the fucking time and it sucks. Just last year in Tye a gay boy was dragged through a field behind a truck after he was caught looking at someone in the locker room at his high school. The kids that did it said the boy needed to be cleaned of his sins. Worst part? The fucking jury bought their defense. They fucking got off with time served and a few fines. "
Stunned, I lifted my head and looked at him. "Are you serious?"
"Sure as shit am."
I almost didn't dare ask. "Did he…"
"Nah, he lived. Paralyzed from the waist down though."
He hesitated for a minute and then continued, "Then over in Gail about, oh I don't know, three or four months ago, another boy was beaten to death, they haven't made any arrests yet. The worst part, his funeral was crashed by some anti-gay rights group. They protested his funeral. His poor fucking parents buried their son while people chanted 'the faggot is dead' outside the church."
"Jesus," I murmured, realizing I had led a sheltered life. All of my experiences with Edward had been in the privacy of our own home. Only once had we ventured out into public, and even then it had been to a gay club where we had done nothing more than dance and kiss. I had never realized, or put much thought into, what life would be like out of the closet.
Fuck, it had been with Peter that I realized I was gay, that I was attracted to men, that it was with a man that I wanted to spend my time and devote myself to…but at what cost? To stay closeted meant denying one's real self, to be ashamed of whom you were, but to come out, to be open and free suddenly seemed so fucking dangerous.
Dangerous was not an option.
Why was life so difficult for us, why were we forced to make a choice between openly expressing our love for someone, possibly risking our lives, or pretending to be something we were not? Straight couples sailed happily along in their perfect houses with their two-point-four kids, able to fuck each other with the shades open if they wanted…but not us. We had to sneak around, holding hands clandestinely while stealing kisses in the dark.
We had to give blow jobs in the back rooms of seedy bars. We had to jerk each other off on the banks of remote rivers.
"Hey," Peter nudged me. "You alright?" he asked in his perfect drawl.
"Yeah. Just thinking…"
"Well, don't strain yourself," he joked before standing up. "Come on, let's go to bed. It's late, and tomorrow is your big day."
Glancing at the clock, I smiled and stood up, my chest almost touching his. Gasping, he bit his lip before bringing his hand up to cup me cheek.
"It's after midnight. Happy birthday," he whispered before placing a sweet kiss on my lips. Slowly, he pulled away and headed for his room. Just before he reached the hallway, he turned around. "Oh, Jasper, about tomorrow. What do you say we go out dancing, ya know, take your mind off shit. "
"What about the party at Charlotte's?" I asked as I stretched my arms above my head. His eyes roamed over me, admiring the way my shirt rose to expose my stomach as my pajama pants sat low on my hips. Quickly, I lowered my arms and gave him an apologetic smile.
Clearing his throat, he smiled. "We can hit the party for a bit, then head over to this bar I know. They won't even know we're gone, Charlotte will cover for us. It'll be fun."
"Okay, sounds good. Night, Peter," I said quietly.
As he turned for his room, I heard him reply, "Night, Jazz."
I went into the bedroom I shared with Bella and climbed into bed. Behind her I lay, listening to her sleepy, steady breaths. Snuggling in close behind her, I inhaled her comforting scent and closed my eyes, my mind restless with images of a poor boy bleeding and alone.
I never slept.
"**~~**"
The next day after breakfast Charlotte and Bella had left early to go help Charlotte's parents get ready for the barbeque later that night.
As soon as she was out the door and in her truck, I looked at Peter. "Ready?"
The mischievous glint in his eye got brighter and he nodded. "Damn straight, I'm ready. Been waiting years to do this." Peter agreed as he gathered his wallet and keys. "Can't believe we've waited since we were fourteen to get these done. What better way to celebrate your birthday."
"Since the day we became blood brothers," I reminded him. "Do you know what you're getting?" I asked as we climbed into his truck.
"I was thinking of getting the words 'cepi corpus'," he chuckled.
"What's it mean?"
"'I got the body'," he said seriously.
"You're so full of shit," I smirked at him, tipping my hat down to shade my eyes from the sun as he pulled out onto the street.
The parlor was well-lit and comfortable with a waiting room and a pleasant girl behind the counter. Peter greeted her by name as he approached and asked if Jay was in.
"Sure, let me go get him," she answered, stepping out to the back room. A minute later, Jay walked in, dressed in a black tee shirt and jeans, both his arms were covered with intricate, colored tattoos. Grinning, he held his hand out to Peter.
"Shit, Peter, been forever, how are ya man?" Jay greeted happily.
Peter shook his hand before turning to me. "I'm great. Do you remember Jasper Whitlock?"
"No fucking way," he looked at me in awe. "Little shit that used to chase my sister around the Base, right? I haven't seen you since junior high. How the hell you been?"
"Good, living up in Seattle now. Just came back for a visit," I replied, shaking his hand.
"Sweet, sweet," he replied before turning to Peter. "You ready?"
Peter motioned to me. "He's getting one too."
Jay asked me, "Ya know what you want or do you need to look through some designs?"
"I know."
"Great. Well come back here, boys and let's get you setup." He led us through a door and into an open room with three leather chairs that resembled dentist chairs and a screen around each one to offer privacy. Peter immediately pulled his shirt off over his head and put it on a table. Jay pulled on some gloves and began swabbing Peter's shoulder with a cotton ball. "You guys can sit over there if you want," Jay informed me, pointing to a stool nearby. I grabbed one and dragged it closer to watch his work on Peter.
After preparing the area on Peter's shoulder where he wanted the tattoo on, Jay applied the transfer and pulled it off. Holding up a mirror for Peter, he asked gruffly, "That what you want?"
"Perfect," Peter smiled and winked at me as Jay began with the needles. "Damn, that stings," Peter groaned.
"Pussy," Jay mumbled as he continued without hesitation. Slowly and precisely, Jay worked on Peter as I watched. They talked about mutual friends and gossiped to me about some old friends from the Base. Before we knew it, Jay put the tool down and admired his work. "Looks fucking great if I do say so myself."
"Always were a bit conceited," Peter sighed, "Got that mirror." Jay held it up and Peter grinned. "Shit man, you're right, it does looks great."
Jay turned to me. "What do you think?"
Four Latin words were written in an elegant script, thin swirls extending from the 'M's, 'A' and 'F', each letter shaded in faint shades of red and blue. "Meus amicus, meus frater," I read quietly, "My friend, my brother," I translated.
"Damn right," Peter returned my smile and I held fist out for him to bump. Jay finished applying the ointment, then a bandage to Peter's tattoo and tossed him his shirt.
"Please cover up the goods," he chuckled before turning to me. "Your turn."
Slowly, I tugged my tee shirt over my head and put it on the same table Peter had. Slightly embarrassed to be standing in front of them shirtless, I felt my cheeks warm up. Shaking my head, I pushed my waves back off my face, tucking them behind me ears.
"Speaking of goods," Peter winked.
"Fuck off," I rolled my eyes and climbed into the chair, resting my elbow on the arm.
Jay had brought over sterile supplies and was setting them up as he began to ask me a few questions. Handing me a piece of paper, I wrote down what I wanted and how I wanted it to look. He asked me a few detailed questions as he prepared my upper left arm the same way he had Peter's shoulder. Peter sat on the stool and watched. Self conscious of him watching me so closely, I kept my eyes in my lap or looking around the shop. It stung at first, but gradually became a rather numb feeling, the pin pricks dipping the ink into my skin. When he was done, I held my arm up for inspection, the elegant script letters were the same exact style as Peter's.
"Looks great, man," Peter complimented his approval.
"Yeah?" I asked as I looked at it in the mirror. "Thanks, Jay. It's just what I wanted." I waited as he applied the ointment.
"Do ut facias?" Peter murmured before forcing his eyes from my newly stained skin to my eyes.
"'I give so that you may do'," I whispered, looking down at my lap, and I swear he gasped. Jay covered it up with a bandage and handed me my shirt. Standing, I pulled it on over my head, my arm a sensitive as the material skimmed it. "Ready to go?" I asked Peter.
"Thanks for coming in. Great to see you again, Jasper," he held out his hand again.
Shaking it, I replied, "You too, thanks for the tattoos. You do great work."
"Thanks. You guys can pay Amy out front," he ushered us through the door to Amy. After paying, we walked outside into the heat of the mid-day sun.
"Where to now?" Peter asked as we headed to his truck.
"Let's go grab some lunch," I opened the door and got in the truck. "Then we should head over to Charlotte's and help out."
"Yeah, we probably should," he agreed.
"**~~**"
"I can't believe how many people are here?" I told him as we unloaded the trucks.
"See? I told you they wouldn't miss us when we leave later," he winked as he brushed by me carrying a cooler. Bella helped Charlotte and Betty finish decorating while Peter and I helped Jack with a small dance floor and stage. Guests began to arrive, each and every one bringing dishes of food to add to the buffet tables. As I spoke with Charlotte about the band that was warming up, Peter came up behind me.
"Come with me," he demanded in a soft tone before reaching for my hand. With an apologetic look to Charlotte, I followed Peter toward the barn. It was wide with stalls lining both sides, the middle isle was uncluttered and clean. It barely smelled like a barn.
"It's really nice," I said, dropping his hand, I headed toward the first stall. Most were empty, the horses spending a good portion of the day out in the fields. Each stall was large with a nameplate at the top. A large chestnut stuck his head over the half door as I approached holding my hand out confidently to stroke the blaze on his face. "He's beautiful," I smiled, looking up at his nameplate. "Hello, Impish," I greeted. Peter came to my side with a carrot in his hand.
"Remember when we used to borrow them?" he asked, that mischievous glint became a roaring blaze.
"You mean steal?" I challenged with a raised eyebrow.
"Hey, we always returned them, no harm done," he gave me the lethal combination of his mischievous glint and wicked grin. Laughing, I recalled the many times we had 'borrowed' their horses, wanting to get to the river the quickest way possible. Sometimes our bikes were not an option, so we would sneak into the fields, jump on a horse bareback and ride them down the river. We were pretty successful until the first time a horse stopped and Peter didn't. He went flying off, breaking his collarbone with a hard snap as he hit the ground.
"Did Charlotte every find out?" I asked as I fed Impish the carrot.
"Nope, and I don't plan on telling her either," he smirked. "It's between you and me. Come on," he grabbed my hand again, tugging me toward the stairs. Lithely, he took them two by two as I followed closely behind him. When we reached the hayloft, we walked to the edge and looked out the open window. Low in the sky before us sat the sun with its last rays of the day splaying out across the vast sky in brilliant shades of orange, pink, and even some purple. As we stood there in complete silence, we watched as the earth seemed to swallow the sun. The lower it got, the faster it seemed to move. Moving behind me, he wrapped his arms around my waist and rested his head on my shoulder. "Remember watching the sunsets at the top of that hill?"
I wanted to say yes, I wanted to tell him I would never forget. Instead, I lay my head on his shoulder and nodded, my hands sliding over his hands, my fingers weaving with his.
"It's beautiful," I finally commented. His breath was warm on my cheeks as he exhaled. It was so hard, so hard to resist falling into him, to pull him into the hay and let him make me his. His warmth was comforting and exciting at the same time, enticing me every second he was near, with every beat of his heart. "We should go," I pulled away quickly and turned for the stairs before I did something would further regret.
Just I reached the top of the stairs, he grabbed my wrist, yanking me back to him. Shoving me hard against the wall, he pressed his body to mine, every inch of him flushed against me. I felt heat radiating from him, his tee shirt clinging tightly to his sweaty chest. Shocked, I stared at him, watching his eyes as they transformed before me with a deep seated undercurrent of stormy need.
Securely held by him, I gazed at him as I felt his fingers dust along the sensitive skin of my neck and a lazy grin graced his face.
"Peter?" I gasped as his hand went behind me, curling his fingers into the damp waves at the nape of neck. His other hand closed over my hip, keeping me to him tightly as he ground his hips into me, I felt his erection, hard and desperate, rub against my own growing length. The wood behind me was rough and unforgiving, scratching me through the thin cotton of my shirt.
With his forehead to mine, he spoke in a hushed, pleading tone, "Feel that?" He rolled his hips forward for emphasis, his cock straining in his jeans, encouraging mine to do the same. "Does he want you like I want you, Jasper?" he asked in short breaths. On a quiet moan, I parted my lips, but didn't answer his question. "Does he?" he repeated with a sharp thrust of his hips.
I trembled.
"Tell me, Jasper, tell me we don't belong together," he commanded softly, righteously. My body betrayed me, responding to him in every way, my racing heart, aching cock, and flushed cheeks all exposed my desire for him. Even my hands had found their way to his shoulders, gripping them tightly as I tried to resist the temptation that was pure Peter.
"Please…" I began, my voice shaky and uncertain.
"Please what, Jasper?" he asked, his breath sweet and hot on my face. I wanted nothing more than to dart my tongue out and lick the sweat the beaded just above his lips.
"Don't make me choose," I finally blurted out. Lifting his head, he eyed me, looking for traces of what was us in me, searching for the love that I had for him, even though it now stood in the shadows of another. "Because…it'll be…him." I looked away, barely focusing on something behind him on the far wall. Sighing, he laid his forehead on my shoulder, his hips still keeping me against the wall, his erection still pulsing in anticipation. Releasing my hip, he dragged his fingers up my side, over my chest to my neck where they traced the silver pendant.
"Is this from him?" he asked knowingly without spite or anger. Nodding, I felt my pulse jump as his fingers brushed over the soft skin. "What does it stand for?"
"Courage," I answered simply. He brought his eyes to mine, and I saw a tenderness that surprised me. He was touched by Edward's thoughtfulness.
"I can feel what I do to you, Jasper. I know how I make you feel." A slight sensuous buck of his hips proved he did know how he made me feel as my cock ached in my jeans.
"Y…yes," I whispered, ashamed at my want.
"I can see your internal battle. It's in your eyes. Dark, conflicted, lost…"
Licking my lips, I stared at him, certain if he were to move again, I might have lost the battle I was trying to hard to fight with honor.
"I don't suppose you want to take care of my little problem for me, huh?" he chuckled sadly. Weaving my fingers into his hair, I pulled his head up to look at me.
"I know for a fact it's not 'little'," I gave him a small smile in hopes of breaking the blanket of tension I had pulled over us. Slowly, he released his hold on my hair and pushed away from me. I leaned my head back against the wall, collecting myself while he walked to the stairs.
"Coming?" he asked, holding out his hand. Nodding, I pushed off the wall and joined him.
Just as we exited the barn, I was greeted by Charlotte who grabbed my hand and tugged me toward the crowd.
"Everyone," she called out. "This is our birthday boy, Jasper."
My cheeks turned scarlet as birthday wishes came from people I had never met before. Strangers came up and greeted me, introducing themselves as some relation to Charlotte. Eventually, the line faded and Betty announced it was time to eat, a rush of people swarmed the buffet tables, piling food on their plates. Bella came up behind me with her plate.
"Have you ever seen anything like this?" she asked in awe.
"It's the way we do things down here," I shrugged, realizing I had said the word 'we' instead of 'they'. I was beginning to include myself as a Texan again and I smiled at the thought.
It truly was my home.
Gathering our food, we took it to the table where Peter and Charlotte sat. Across from them, Bella and I sat next to each other and began eating. Chatter was all around us, everyone gossiping or talking about work and families. Peter and I told some more stories, mostly embarrassing ones for me, to Bella.
"Hey y'all," Betty spoke from the microphone on the stage, and everyone turned their attention to her. "First, thank y'all for coming all the way out here for our little party. Please help yourselves to more food, but we're going to get the party rumbling with some music. Where are you, Jasper?" she asked scanning the crowd. Bella pushed my back and I raised my hand. "There you are," she pointed at me. "There's the birthday boy. Happy birthday, darlin', and this first one is for you."
Behind her a small band had gathered, picking up their instruments. As she walked off the stage they began to play Garth Brook's "Friends in Low Places". Everyone broke out into laughter and began making their way to the small dance floor.
"Well shit, ain't that a fitting song," Peter laughed.
"You would know," Charlotte challenged with a smile. "Come on, dance with me," she stood, pulling on his hand.
Turning to Bella I raised an eyebrow in a silent invitation.
She began shaking her head. "No, no, I can't," she argued.
"Why not, you danced at Gilly's? Come on, Bella, it's my birthday." I lowered my chin and pouted my lips.
"So not fair with the pouty lips," she sighed heavily, holding out her hand, which I grabbed quickly before she could change her mind. Practically dragging her, we made our way to the crowded floor. Turning, I took her into my arms and she placed her hand on my shoulder.
"Remember the steps?" I asked and she nodded. Then we were two-stepping our way around the floor, weaving in and out of other couples like we had been doing it all our lives. Bella's feet moved effortlessly as we kept our hold. Peter and Charlotte smiled at us every time we neared them, and Bella would smile back proudly.
"I think it's time for a twirl," she suggested.
Surprised, I looked down at her. "Well, aren't you livin' la vida loca," I grinned. "Ready?"
"Yep." We took our two slow steps before she released me and twirled before coming back to me for our two quick steps. Glancing up at me, she winked, proud of her accomplishment.
Two songs later, we sat down and Peter whispered in Charlotte's ear. Smiling, she nodded in response. Peter turned to Bella.
"Bella, you mind if I steal Jasper for a few hours? There's a place I wanna take him for his birthday," he turned on all his southern charm for what it was worth.
It worked on me, but Bella was a tougher sell.
"What, a strip club?" she asked with a giggle.
"They are called gentlemen clubs now, and no, that's not where I'm taking him," he shook his head. Tilting his head, he looked up at her though his lashes. "Come on, darlin' it's the last time I'll see him on his birthday."
"Sure," Bella sighed and looked at Charlotte. "Will your parents mind?"
"Nah, they won't even notice, not with the family here an' all." Peter stood up quicker than I thought possible and kissed Charlotte's hair, whispering his thanks. We quietly headed for his truck, climbing in, he started it up.
"Where are we going?" I asked as I rolled down my window and took my hat off, letting the wind control my curls. "I'm not exactly dressed fancy." I looked down and pulled at my tee shirt.
"Don't worry about it, you look fine," he glanced at me before pulling out onto the main road. The sexual tension from earlier still remained, but it was subdued, calmed by our slight distance and his self control, which I sorely lacked. "Hey, remember that year the Major took us camping for your birthday?" he started laughing before he was even finished asking the question.
"Fuck, yes, that was a mess of a weekend, what could go wrong-"
"Went wrong," he finished for me. The drive went fast while we reminisced about camping and life on the Base. Pulling into a parking lot, he turned off the truck. Reaching over me, he opened his glove box and pulled out his wallet. "Might need this," he smiled as he slammed the door closed.
We got out and headed toward the sidewalk. Not recognizing the surroundings, I looked around, trying to figure out where we were. It was dark, only slight light from the occasional neon sign in a window lit up the sidewalk.
"How far?" I asked, easily keeping pace with Peter's stride.
Shrugging, he glanced around warily. "About a block," he replied as he pointed ahead. "See that red sign? That's it."
I stopped walking. "The Cock Fight?" I asked and he stopped and turned around with a raise eyebrow. "Seriously?"
"Well, yeah, but not with rosters," he winked and turned back around, expecting me to follow him.
I did.
Mumbling under my breath the entire time, even as I saw him trying to avoid the smile that tugged at his lips, we arrived at the door. Peter flashed the bouncer his smile and ID, who gave it no more than a fleeting glance.
At least this time I knew what to expect.
I wasn't surprised when we entered and there were shirtless men bouncing on the dance floor under lights that flashed with the beat of the music.
I wasn't surprised when a man brushed behind me, his hand casually grabbing a handful of my ass as he did so.
I wasn't surprised when a boy to my left winked and smiled at Peter before waving him over.
I was surprised when Peter went.
Wrapping his arms around the other boy's neck while the boy's hands went straight to Peter's hips, they swayed together. Watching them closely from the edge of the floor, I saw them talking, Peter offering more than one of his brilliant smiles to the boy. Thin, he had an innocent twink look to him that I had to admit was cute. He was shorter than Peter with dirty blond hair and dark eyes, he had a beautiful, free smile that he wore often while they danced.
They seemed comfortable with each other and I grew curious.
Sweat and the stale stench of alcohol hung in the air while groups of men danced together, some rather openly sexual while others were more conservative. When the song ended, Peter released his hold on the boy and motioned me over to them. Keeping my eyes on the boy as I approached, I walked up behind Peter, resisting the urge to put my arms around him.
Still in the boys hold, Peter turned to face me. "Riley, this is Jasper, Jasper, this is Riley" he paused, glancing behind him at Riley. "He's my ex," he admitted to me.
"Ex as in boyfriend?" I asked, a bit stunned, I had never seen Peter as the steady boyfriend type and my heart clenched a bit at the thought of someone else sharing his bed, his life…his cock.
My thoughts, and reactions, were unreasonable and I knew it.
Peter laughed along with Riley. "Yes, as in boyfriend. Is that so hard to believe?"
Yes.
"No," I lied as I tried to picture it in my head.
"We dated for, what was it?" he turned to Riley, who lifted his shoulders. "Six months? Something like that."
"You still seem… friendly," I choked out, a bitter taste in my mouth.
Riley grinned at me as he nibbled on Peter's ear. "We ended on good terms," Peter offered before taking Riley's hands and forcing him to release him. "I'm going to go dance with Jasper for a bit, save one for me later?"
"Anything for you, gorgeous" Riley replied in a sickly sweet voice. With a kiss to Riley's cheek, Peter took my hand and led me to the center of the dance floor just as the song changed.
Spinning, he turned to me, and wrapped his arms loosely around my neck. "This okay?" he asked, making sure I was comfortable with the physical closeness. With a growl, I grabbed his hips and pulled him to me, our chests rubbing as I swayed us back and forth.
"This is better," I mumbled, not liking the feelings that stirred deep in me. Jealousy was not something I wore well or often and I hated the weakness I felt due to it, but it was unavoidable. Deciding to lose myself for the moment, I closed my eyes and thought back to the night Edward and I had gone to the club. The blond boy I had danced with while Edward watched, how turned on he got, how fucking possessive he became when he met me on the floor. Taking the tie from his neck and putting it around mine.
Later that night with the tie….
"Mmm," Peter moaned at the motion of our bodies together, grinding and meeting over and over again in sensual, wanting ways. I knew then that I could be like that with Peter, I could openly show my desire for him without it having to progress, we could be friends and be flirtatious. He had done it with Riley, he had proven to me it could be done. It might take some restraint, some self discipline, but we could resist the urge to become sexual and keep it as the possible lovers we would always be. "Hear the song?"
I had only been feeling our bodies, his heat and flesh against mine, and had barely even noticed music was playing. The music was only an excuse to hold him to me one last time.
Bella and I were leaving the next day.
Previously, I had been excited to return to Seattle, and more importantly, to Edward, but the excitement had begun to wan and turn into something else altogether, an apprehension of sorts that troubled me.
Certainly, part of it was that I didn't want to leave Peter, or Texas, but there was something more, I just wasn't sure what.
Listening to the song, I smiled at him. For the first time in days, it was relaxed, happy and even a bit carefree. For that one last night, I was going to forget my worries and fears and enjoy it, enjoy the time I had left with my childhood friend who held my past in his heart.
"Never can say goodbye, boy" I sang with the song. "Tell me why is it so, I don't want to let you go."
Grinning, he tightened his hold on me and began singing back to me in a soft voice only meant for my ears. "Even though the pain and heartache seem to follow me wherever I go, though I tried and tried to hide my feelings, they always seem to show, then you try to say you're leaving me, and I always have to say no."
The words hit me harder than I expected, my heart aching even though his eyes were light and full of their mischief, I felt like I was doing the wrong thing.
Like leaving Texas was wrong.
Like leaving him was wrong.
"It's not wrong, Jasper," he whispered to me, just loud enough for me to hear. Had I spoke the words aloud? "It's what you need to do, and I understand. Let's…" he smiled thoughtfully. "Let's just enjoy tonight."
Nodding, I kissed his forehead and murmured against it. "Thank you for letting me go."
I would have left regardless, I would have returned to Edward, there was no doubt, but having Peter tell me it was what I needed to do, that reassurance was exactly what I needed to hear.
I belonged with Edward.
Giving me a sad smile, he nodded and tightened his arms around my neck. Song after song, we danced in each other's arms, sometimes separating for the faster songs, but our hands were always on each other, even the slightest touch reassuring the other that we were still there for that one last night together. The lights and other boys faded away, nothing distracting me from Peter as he owned me all night. We were together until Riley came up behind Peter, putting his hand on his shoulder casually as he whispered in his ear. Peter smiled and nodded, his hands still holding mine as we moved to the song.
"Riley wants one last dance, do you mind?" Peter asked hopefully.
I wanted to say yes and tell Riley to fuck off, but I nodded and released his hands. Backing away slowly, I watched as Riley turned Peter around to face him, his hands going straight to Peter's waist, crawling up under the hem of Peter's shirt and up his back as he pressed himself completely to Peter's body. Even in the dark, I saw his hands drawing lazy circles on Peter's smooth back as he buried his face into Peter's neck, closing his eyes.
Peter lowered his head to Riley's shoulder and they moved gently to the music.
It was sweet and caring and hard to watch.
"Wanna dance?" the dreaded words were asked by a tall boy next to me. Barely glancing at him, I shook my head.
There was only one set of arms I wanted around me.
He took the hint and scampered away into the crowed. Just then the DJ announced the last song of the night. Thinking it would be a good time to go get a drink, I turned to head to the bar but a hand on my shoulder stopped me.
"One last time?" his silky voice touched my soul. He didn't wait for my answer; he just took my hand and led me back to the floor. As I pulled him to me, my arms around his waist, his around my neck, I looked at him.
"Where's Riley?" I asked.
"Ssshhh," he said. "No Riley, no Edward, just me and you one last time, Jasper," he told me but it sounded more like a request.
One last time.
They sounded so final, so fucking scary. Nausea rose in my stomach at the mention of those words, and I pulled him to me, not leaving any space between us. He rested his head on my shoulder, and I laid mine against his, his hair tickling my cheek as I nuzzled him.
We simply held each other.
One last time.
After the song, the house lights came up, their brightness irritating to eyes that had grown accustomed to the dark.
"Time to go," he murmured into my chest.
I didn't want to let him go.
But I did.
Slowly, I lifted my head and released my hold on him. Before he slipped away, he kissed my cheek.
"Thanks, Jasper," he said as he stepped back and stretched. "Let's get the fuck out of here," he grinned. Spotting Riley near the door, we headed over to say good night. He hugged Peter.
"Don't be such a stranger, gorgeous," he said as he embraced him.
"I won't," Peter promised, placing a kiss on Riley's cheek.
"Jasper, night to meet you," Riley said as he pulled back from Peter and held out his hand. Shaking it, I smiled.
"You too. Take care of him, huh?" I requested.
"You bet," he winked.
"I don't need a fucking babysitter," Peter laughed as we headed for the exit. "I do just fine on my own."
The cool air was refreshing on our sweaty bodies as we left and turned right, heading down the dark sidewalk toward the parking lot. There were sounds in the distances, a few cars, some laughing and chattering, but for the most part, we were alone in our walk.
Tentatively, Peter reached over and grabbed my hand, weaving his fingers with mine while we walked silently. The fact at that we seemed to be walking extra slowly did not go unnoticed by me, as if we were both trying to drag out the night for as long as we possibly could. With a sigh, Peter laid his head against my arm.
"Well, look at what we have here. A couple of faggots." The voice was harsh, loud and slurred.
Peter and I both stopped, our hands immediately letting go of the other. Standing up straight, Peter glanced behind him out of the corner of his eyes.
"Three," he whispered. Nodding, I acknowledged him and kept walking, our pace quickening as we ignored them behind us. I heard their footsteps gaining on us, getting louder and more consistent.
"Aw how cute, did you see that, the fucking fairies were holding hands," another voice exclaimed. My heart pounded in my chest, adrenaline rushing through me at unknown speed. I thought back to the night at the truck stop, images of being hit all too fresh in my mind.
"Fucking fairies is right," the first voice replied.
"Fuck," Peter murmured and stopped walking.
There weren't three of them.
There were six.
Three behind us and three in front of us. They had appeared from an alley to our right, one held a long piece of metal, the other two were empty handed.
We were surrounded.
"Hey guys," one of the guys in front of us called out to his friends. He wasn't very tall, but he was muscular with black hair slicked back. "These friends of yours?" he mocked.
"Fuck no, we don't hang out with no fucking queers," someone replied.
With an evil grin, the one that spoke in front of us glanced at Peter. "You're kinda cute, queer. Want to suck my dick?"
"Fuck off," Peter sneered. Peter had a temper; I had seen it many times. He also knew how to fight, but the odds were stacked against us is more than one way. We were out numbered and out powered. We had no weapons.
They had numbers and weapons.
"Oh, your boyfriend is feisty," he smiled at me with the same evilness. I wanted to reply as Peter had, but I remained quiet, glaring at them in hopes they would get bored and leave.
I wasn't so lucky.
"What should we do with them?" a small hesitant voice asked from behind us.
"I want a fucking blow job," the guy with the pipe replied. "I want to fuck his mouth," he pointed to Peter. "You guys hold him down while I do that."
Peter couldn't let it go. "You don't think me sucking your dick makes you a faggot?" he raised an eyebrow.
"Shut the fuck up," he replied, his hand balling up into a fist. Behind me, I heard them gathering closer to Peter and me, circling around us. "Let's take them to the lot, teach them a few things about talking back."
"Are we going to fuck them up," someone asked eagerly.
"Fuck yes, after I have my way with that one," the other instructed, "while his fucking faggot boyfriend watches."
I was tense, ready to either fight or flight, I was waiting from the cue to Peter as to what he wanted to do. My fists clenched at my sides as my eyes scanned our surroundings quickly. We were still a block from the truck, the dark alley to our right looked ominous and it was dark behind us, the club having closed and people had left.
We had little choice.
If we survived it was going to hurt.
Suddenly, I was grabbed from behind, strong arms wrapped around my chest, pinning my arms to my sides. Peter spun to help but was too late, and he was grabbed from behind as well.
"Teach you faggots how we do things with fags in the south, eh? We don't right like your kind much down here, got no use for you," their leader said as he approached Peter with a leer. "Should just line you all up and shoot you is what we should do." His hands fisted Peter's tee shirt.
"Get your fucking hands off me," Peter raged, moving against the two men that held him. My mind raced with possibilities and different scenarios.
"Make me," the guy smirked as he ripped Peter's tee shirt into two pieces and gazed at his newly exposed chest. Drawing his arm back, he hit Peter directly in the stomach with a forceful blow. The air escaped Peter in a loud gasp and I saw him tighten his stomach muscles in preparation for the next punch, which came seconds later. Repeatedly, Peter absorbed blow after blow.
The two quick jabs to Peter's jaw and blood gathered on the corner of his lips as he stood up straight, ready for the next hit.
But it didn't come.
"You think because you can take a few punches, you're a man, huh? You ain't nothing but a faggot who likes dick up his ass. Tell me queer, how does it feel to have a cock in your ass? Huh? Answer me!"
Peter glared at him silently for a few seconds before he spat some blood onto the ground, hitting the man's shoes. "Let me fuck you and then you can tell me?"
The fist struck his eye, Peter's head flying to side just in time to get hit with the other fist coming from the other direction. Breathing heavy, the man stopped, his hands going to Peter's pants, undoing the button and zipper, he yanked Peter's jeans and underwear down to his thighs.
"What the fuck!" I screamed. Peter's head lulled as he swayed in and out of consciousness. I was helpless to do anything. Already hurt and bleeding, I feared it was only the beginning of what could happen to him.
Of what could happen to us.
I had never been more scared in my life.
"And it thought a queer would have a bigger dick than that. Fag, you ain't got nothing bigger than a twig," he laughed. "I see you got no balls either."
"What you gonna do?" the hesitant voice asked. Their leader turned to one of the guys holding me.
"First, I'm gonna fuck his mouth, then I'm gonna cut his dick off and feed it to him. Teach him about being a fucking faggot in Texas," he grinned at his last words. "And that one there," he pointed at me. "You boys can do whatever you want with him, take him for a ride behind the truck, beat shit out of him, fuck him, I don't care." He paused, glancing around. "Take them to the alley."
Kicking and thrusting against them, they began to push me while the others dragged Peter, his feet barely holding him upright as they forced us into the dark abyss of the alley. About half-way down they stopped and held Peter against a brick wall. When I looked down toward the street for help, I realized we were hidden by a few dumpsters. My mind reeled as I tried to figure a way out of our impossible situation. Bare-chested with his pants down, Peter's arms were gripped tightly as the leader began to undo his own pants.
"On his knees," he demanded, and Peter was pushed roughly to his knees, his skin scraped as he fell onto the pavement. His pants undone, the guy stepped forward and grabbed Peter's hair, ripping it out as he jerked Peter's head back hard. "Suck me, faggot," he commanded as he put one hand on his soft dick and began to put it in Peter's mouth.
"Fuck you," Peter murmured, clamping his mouth shut with what little strength he had left. After a few unsuccessful attempts at opening Peter's mouth, the leader turned to me.
"Well if he ain't gonna do it, then you are," he curled his lip as he spoke. "One queer is just as good as the other."
I looked down at Peter, his head hanging as he wheezed and sucked air into his lungs. Blood seeped from the wounds on his face, one eye and his lips were beginning to swell. Twenty minutes earlier, he had been standing strong in my arms, singing to me as his scent surrounded me while we danced and smiled and laughed.
Now he was broken in a dark alley, his life in danger.
And it was my fault.
If we hadn't gone out, if I had said no, if it wasn't my birthday…if we weren't gay.
So many 'ifs' and not one held the answer I needed right then, the one that would save our asses.
If this was it, it my life was over as I knew it, then I wasn't going down without a fight. Tearing my eyes from Peter's bloodied, bruised and naked body, I looked at the leader, lifting my chin.
"Fuck you," I drawled out slowly, smiling.
He looked around at his posse before turning back to me, "Guess I had it wrong, this one is the feisty one. Maybe it should have been his mouth I wanted to fuck all along. He does have sweet lips that would look great around my cock." He reached down to his dick and took it in his hands again, stroking himself as he eyed me and licked his lips.
"Get him ready," he nodded to the guys holding me. Each with one hand, they reached around and grabbed the hem of my tee shirt, pulling it up to expose my torso before tugging it over my head so it gathered behind my neck. "Nice" the leader approved, gazing at my stomach. "Let's see if your dick is bigger than your boyfriends. You must like it when he fucks you hard, huh? Scream like a little bitch I bet," he clammy hands went to the button of my jeans and he popped it open.
"Leave him the fuck alone," Peter demanded as he struggled uselessly against the men holding him, earning him a knee to his ribcage. "Fuck," he gasped for air. "Don't fucking touch him," he growled, looking up at me with despair in his eyes.
"Shut him up," the leader called to his buddies holding Peter. The guy to his left kicked him hard in his side before hitting the back of his head with his elbow. "The only thing I want to hear is this guy's moans while I fuck his mouth." He palmed my cock as he began to lower my zipper. "Let's see what kind of goods you got, faggot."
I felt his hand inside my open jeans and just as I went to draw my knee up into his arm I heard a scream in the distance.
Confused, the leader stopped and spun around, his hardening cock bouncing at the movement. "What the fuck," he called out to his buddies, who just shrugged.
"HEY!" a familiar voice shouted from the end of the alley. "What's going on down there?"
Riley.
"RILEY, HELP!" I shouted as loud as I could. Footsteps, many of them, began to head toward us. Suddenly, I was released and immediately falling to the ground where I felt one swift kick to my side before they ran off in other direction. On my hands and knees, I crawled to Peter. I pulled him to me, cradling him in my lap, holding his face to my chest.
"Peter, you okay?" I asked worriedly as I forced his face up to look at me, checking over his injuries.
"Jesus Christ, what the fuck happened?" Riley asked, shocked, as he reached us and knelt before Peter. Reaching out, he tenderly brushed the back of his hand along Peter's bruised cheek.
"Call nine-one-one," I instructed.
"No," Peter whispered. "I don't want to deal with the police," he said weakly.
"But," I began and he shook his head with more strength and defiance.
"Please, Jasper. Just help me get home," he requested, lifting his head off my chest. Riley stood, offering his hand. Peter took it and we both helped him up. While Peter leaned against me, Riley pulled up his pants and did the button up just as another three men appeared. I reached behind my neck and pulled my shirt back over my head.
"What happened?" they asked simultaneously, looking at me and Peter.
"Some dickheads fucked with us," Peter choked out. "But we showed them, didn't we Jasper?" he attempted to chuckle but coughed instead. "Fuck that hurts," he groaned.
Riley cupped Peter's cheek, "You sure you're okay, gorgeous?"
Nodding, Peter gave him a smile, his swollen lips barely moving. "Yeah, thanks for the help, sweetheart. Jasper can get me home."
Riley glanced up at me and I nodded. "If you need anything, he has my number," he instructed. "Call me anytime. Come on guys," he turned to his friends and as they walked out the alley, I heard Riley begin to tell them about the scene he had discovered.
With my arm around Peter's waist and his around my shoulders, we ambled to this truck and I opened up the door and slid him into the passenger side. Grabbing his keys, I went to the driver's side and climbed in. Stopping as I went to start the truck, I took a deep breath.
"That was too close for comfort," I whispered.
Peter was leaning his head against the window and I saw him close his eyes. "That was nothing," he sighed. "We lived."
That we had.
But what kind of lives would we live with fear of it happening again over our heads all the time.
Inserting the keys, I started the truck and pulled out onto the street. In the dark cab, I reached over and took his hand in mine, clenching onto it tightly, no pretense of a casual touch, I needed to feel him, to know he was really okay.
When the first few notes of the all too familiar song came through the speakers, it hit me.
It all just fucking hit me.
The tears silently rolled down my cheeks unabashedly, I made no attempt to hide them. I accepted them for what they were and let them fall.
Peter opened his eyes and turned his head toward me, his voice barely a whisper. "You just call out my name, and you know where ever I am I'll come running, oh yeah baby, to see you again," he sang with the song, just as he had sung to me at the club, just as I had sung to Edward the night before I had left.
I took up where he left off, "Winter, spring, summer or fall, all you have to do is call, and I'll be there, yeah, yeah, yeah. You've got a friend."
Our voice sang together quietly, each of them cracking slightly as the emotion of the words overwhelmed us both.
I had a friend, a dear friend, that would have done anything for me, and while I had always known that, his actions in the alley had shown me just how far he was willing to go for me. Bringing his hand to my lips, I kissed it, knowing he felt the dampness of my tears on my lips, but I didn't care.
I just…felt.
Pulling into his driveway, I turned the truck off and reluctantly let go of Peter's hand so I could get out. He slumped against me as soon as I opened his door, his ripped shirt revealing the misshapen discolored bruises that marred his beautiful body.
"Come on, beautiful," I mumbled as I put one of his arms over my shoulder and let him lean his weight on me as we walked to his door. We stumbled through and shuffled our way to his bedroom. Well after two in the morning, Charlotte and Bella had long since gone to bed, so as quietly as possible, I got Peter into his room. If Charlotte saw him hurt, she would kick my ass and I had had enough of that for one night.
After sitting him on the bed, he started to perk up a bit, knowing he was home and safe. Standing between his spread legs, I pulled off what was left of his shirt and tossed it on the floor.
"So much for that shirt," I tried to joke.
He shrugged. "Not one of my favorites anyway," he said as he stood on shaky legs and unbuttoned his pants. Seeing him struggle, I knelt and pulled them down for him. He put his hand on my shoulder as he stepped out of them and I tossed them with the shirt. Before me in only his boxer briefs, I could more clearly see his injuries. Gently, I touched them with the tips of my fingers before placing a kiss on each bruise that covered his abdomen. Then I lay my cheek against his thigh and sighed.
"I'm so sorry, Peter."
I was sorry for what had happened, that I was going to leave him…for everything.
"Hey," he said, putting his hands on my shoulders and pulling me up. "Jasper," he began, cupping my face in his hands. "Tonight was not your fault, don't you even think about taking the blame for those dickheads. Shit like that happens sometimes. It just part of being what we are."
"It shouldn't have to be," I sighed.
"No, it shouldn't but…it is," he gingerly sat down and I briefly wondered where the first aide kit that Bella had bought was.
"I'm going to go get something to clean you up," I said as I headed out of his room to the bathroom. Scrounging through their cabinet I found some ointment, and then I grabbed a towel and went to their kitchen to fill a bowl with some warm water. When I returned to the bedroom, Peter was still sitting up, leaning back on his palms with his eyes closed. He looked exhausted and battered. I placed the supplies down on the table and sat next to him. Dipping a corner of the towel in the water, I washed the cuts on his cheek and corner of his lip. He hissed at the contact, but didn't pull away. Once they were clean, I put some ointment on my finger and dabbed it on the wounds just like Bella had me. Finishing, I leaned back and admired my handy work. He looked less bloody, but not much better.
"Do you want some aspirin?" I asked as I placed the ointment on the table.
"Nah, it's going to hurt like a mother fucker tomorrow anyway, aspirin won't help," he uttered quietly. He reached up with his right hand to his left shoulder. "Can you check my tattoo for me?" Nodding, I turned so I could see his tattoo. The bandage was crumpled a bit but still attached. Carefully, I peeled the tape off and pulled the bandage back.
"It looks good, red, but not cut from the…" I stopped. "Do you want me to change the bandage?"
He shook his head, "Nah, I'll do it tomorrow. Thanks, man." I reapplied the bandage, pressing down on the tape gently. "Hey, can you get that bag over there," he asked and pointed to small bag sitting on a chair that was covered in clothes in the corner.
Standing, I walked over to it. "You need to seriously consider doing some laundry soon," I said, picking up the bag and returning to his side and handing it to him.
Shaking his head, he said, "No, it's for you. You're birthday present."
"Peter," I started but he interrupted.
"Just fucking open it," he raised an brow as if I would deny him in his condition. I reached in the bag and pulled out a tissue-wrapped gift. Tearing the paper, I revealed a picture, apparently taken the last time we were at Charlotte's parents, surrounded with a cherry stained wood frame. Carved at the top were the words "Texas Forever." Peter and I were sitting next to each other at a table, his arm was around my shoulders and my head inclined toward his so our heads were touching. Each of us wore a huge grin, my dimples showing while Peter's eyes sparkled with his glint.
We were everything best friends should be.
I ran my fingers over it reverently.
"It's beautiful," I whispered as a tear fell. "Thank you so much. It will treasure it forever." I leaned over and kissed him, on the mouth, tenderly.
When I pulled away he stared at me for a long time before putting his forehead to mine. "Texas forever," he smiled.
"Forever," I repeated. It didn't matter where I went, who I loved or where I lived, I was Texas born and bred, and it would forever be a part of me, and me a part of it. "Let's get you into bed," I suggested, standing up. Peter stood and pulled the sheet back on his bed and gingerly climbed in and slowly laid his head the pillows. I pulled my tee shirt over my head and threw it on the floor and began undoing my jeans. Peter eyed me.
"I'm okay, Jasper, you can go to Bella," he groaned as he moved to his side.
I toed my boots off. "No."
"Jasper, I'm fine," he sighed wearily. I pulled my pants down and stepped out of them.
"I'm not leaving you tonight," I defiantly answered. Down to my underwear, I got into the bed with him, lying down to face him on my side. He reached out and brushed my waves away from my face.
"No, but tomorrow you are," he whispered sadly. Unable to face the anguish that filled his eyes, I looked down and took his hand in mine, hoping to sooth some of our grief away, grief I shared with him. I wanted to take him in my arms, to hold him tight and close but I resisted for fear of hurting him further. I settled for holding his hand. "Will you come back someday?"
I brought my eyes back to his and nodded. "I promise."
With a smile playing at his lips, his eyes drifted closed as his exhaustion finally overtook his body. "Happy birthday, Jasper," he murmured before sliding into sleep.
I spent the night watching him, I told myself it was because I wanted to make sure he was okay, that there were no lasting effects of the beating he had sustained. For hours, I watched him breathe and sleep and sigh.
Lying next to him with my eyes open, I did what I had come to do, I said goodbye to the part of my life he would always hold.
"**~~**"
Thanks for reading~
How can you not love Peter? Poor guy….