There were many things Carlisle missed about being human.
He missed food, oh god did he miss the taste of food. He missed the feeling of contentment after a meal, the very fact that he could become full and satisfied if only for a few hours. He missed being able to walk freely in the sunlight, to not have to live a life of pretense.
Over the years it'd grown from an open wound into a sort of distant, dull, ache. There was so much he could do as a vampire that he could not as a man. Work hours meant nothing to him anymore, he could detect illnesses that he never would have been able to as a human, he could retain and learn so much more than he ever could as a human, he had met so many fascinating people from all times and places in the world.
He was free to choose the direction of his life a way he hadn't as the son of a priest.
Until today, he had not missed drinking.
It was now midafternoon. Bella was sitting across from him on the deck, wrapped in a towel and nothing else, watching him with wide nervous eyes. Carlisle was sitting naked in the hot tub the Cullens had rarely used.
And he was stone cold sober.
"So, you ever do this with Esme?" Bella finally asked.
"No," he looked down at the swirling water that barely obscured his form with a sigh, "Sadly, it hasn't gotten much use."
Vampires minded the cold better than humans, the heat too for that matter. As a result, things like a hot tub lost their excitement. Vampires didn't suffer the same aching muscles and buildup of lactic acid as humans, there was no relief of tension stepping into scalding water. Hot tubs were just tubs of unpleasantly warm water.
That said, three years ago when they'd first moved back to Forks and were remodeling, Emmett insisted on installing one. He'd had such dreams for this hot tub and then—
Well, here it had sat for another three years.
"I didn't know you had a hot tub," Bella said, poking at the wooden planks of the deck, "Edward never said anything. Of course, I guess that would have meant seeing me in a swimsuit."
Yes, Carlisle wished he was plastered.
Bella looked over at him again, blushing furiously, and trying to keep her eyes trained on his face, "So, you think you've been in there long enough?"
In the kitchen, after Carlisle had reluctantly agreed to this madness, his first thought had been to escort Bella to the bedroom Edward had set up for her. True, it was a little awkward, but at least it was better than taking her to the master bedroom.
Unfortunately, Edward had beaten them there.
The room was littered with scented candles of all shapes and sizes and dozens upon dozens of red roses. Upon walking in, the stereo automatically turned on, softly crooning out George Michael's "Careless Whisper".
Carlisle had immediately shut the door, doused all the candles, and unplugged the stereo.
Plus, after a bit of thought, he'd realized that a bed would be—unpleasant.
It wasn't just Carlisle's hands that were cold. He'd performed enough physicals to know that patients who otherwise loved him dreaded the feeling of his ice-cold fingers in delicate places. Carlisle couldn't even imagine what it'd feel like to have something larger than a few fingers in—well—the point was that Carlisle had realized that this might require a bit of thought.
He'd thought about the shower, that at least could conceivably get him to a tolerable temperature, but then they'd have to have intercourse standing up which just made it more likely he'd accidentally slam Bella through the wall.
And then, finally, he'd remembered the ill-fated jacuzzi.
And here he'd been sitting for the last half hour, wondering if he was warm enough yet, what he was doing here, and if Bella was sure she wanted to do this.
He looked over at her, hoping he didn't look too desperate, and asked again, "Are you quite sure you want to do this, Bella?"
Bella nodded, that very Bella determined look on her face again, "I'm ready. If it's not now then it's—Well, it's not going to be anytime soon. Are you—are you sure you want to do this?"
No.
What came out of his mouth was, "Absolutely, I just—"
At Bella's sharper look he deflated and sighed, "I wish we weren't in this situation, but I understand where you're coming from. I—If I were in your position, and you in mine, I would hope that you would be compassionate enough to help me."
Granted, when he'd been turned, finding a lover had been the very last thing on his mind. No, for the first years of his new life he'd been fixated on the idea of killing himself and then on building up his resistance to human blood.
No, Carlisle didn't think he'd thought about marriage, seriously about love, until Esme came into his life with eyes filled with stars.
However, if he had, if he'd been a young woman as Bella had and discovered all hopes of marriage ripped away from him as she now had. Then he imagined he would have been very appreciative of what she would do for him.
Even if it was ridiculous.
"I agreed to this," he said more gently, "As you noted, somehow all parties involved have agreed to this. I am more than happy to help."
Bella just nodded, still flushing terribly, and Carlisle sighed and glanced down at himself. Without blood, there was no reddened skin, instead he was glittering in the afternoon sunlight. He held out his hand to her, "How does this feel?"
She took it, considered it with a frown, "I think this should be good."
"Good is not good enough," Carlisle said, "Imagine having this inside you."
Bella grimaced, thought harder, and then said, "It's warm enough."
She inhaled, stood, and faced him and the water. For a moment she paused, clearly debating how she was going to go about this. He could imagine her taking the towel off only at the very last second, letting it drop but covering herself with her arms, it was clear in this moment that she had never done this before and never even imagined getting this far.
She took another deep breath and decided to take the route of thoughtless courage, as she always did. She let the towel drop completely to her feet and then kicked it off the deck and into the yard.
Well, alright then.
Sitting there, Carlisle couldn't help but let his eyes wander over her. Couldn't help, who was he kidding? This was the moment he should—no—needed to look her over. If Carlisle didn't do something fast this would be even more embarrassing for both of them.
Despite having sat naked in a hot tub for ages now, the girl only in a skimpy towel across from him, he'd been too despairing to get in the kind of mood necessary to do what Bella asked of him.
He now had to make up for lost time. Even if that meant getting an eyeful of a girl who until today had been his daughter-in-law and he might think of as a daughter in the future when she joined the coven.
He was about to sleep with his daughter.
That was the exact opposite kind of thought he needed to have right now.
Carlisle forced himself to focus on her again.
She was very attractive, but then she always had been, even in the very beginning when she'd first caught Edward's eye.
She wasn't quite beautiful in the way Rosalie was beautiful, her eyes were a bit too large for that, her legs too thin and coltish. However, in a strange way she'd always reminded him of Audrey Hepburn. Bella was taller, not quite as thin, had more curves to her, but she had those same large dark eyes framed by equally dark hair. She had that same refined, classic, beauty that belonged on a silver screen, not stripped naked in front of him as she approached his jacuzzi.
(Focus, Carlisle.)
Still, losing her clothes did nothing to detract from that beauty.
There was a certain sense of softness, of fragility, that came with looking at a human woman with a vampire's eyes. Carlisle could tell why Edward touched her so carefully, her pale skin made it look like a stray breeze could knock her over. Nevertheless, she stood with a quiet dignity, forcing herself to be brave and look confident in front of him. There was strength in her, both despite her human nature and perhaps because of it.
She didn't flinch as she met his eyes. There was a spark in them, an internal fire, that was purely her own. He couldn't remember seeing a similar fire in Esme's for such a very long time.
She wasn't aroused yet, not like earlier with Edward, but her heart was pounding with a nervous anticipation. Her burning eyes landed on him, and with painstaking care so as not to trip, Bella began making her way towards him.
She tripped anyway.
"I'm okay!" she cried out as she caught herself on her hands, whipping her head up and motioning for Carlisle to stay where he was, "Nothing's broken! This is a normal thing! Bella can't sexy walk while naked, it's cool!"
He would not laugh.
Carlisle would not laugh.
God would give him strength and he would not laugh.
She let out a deep, trembling, breath and pushed herself back up to her feet. Faster this time, giving her less of an opportunity to fall, she made her way into the hot tub, taking one step at a time with a death grip on the hand rail, until she was standing waist high in the water.
She turned to him with a triumphant grin, "I made it!"
"You certainly made it," Carlisle agreed, and then they stared at each other.
Bella looked at him owlishly, he looked back, and it struck him that neither of them knew how to start this. Bella really shouldn't stay in here longer than fifteen minutes at a time, which meant they couldn't exactly dally around, but here they were wasting precious seconds just looking at each other like idiots.
He reached out for her first, relying on instinct for the slow, human movements.
In the water, she didn't feel too hot, not like she would out of it. The reminders of her humanity were in her thrumming heartbeat as well as the floral scent of her skin. It'd been so long since he'd thought of blood as food, Bella had been a part of his life so long, that the smell didn't trigger the thirst.
Instead, it was just an aspect of their surroundings. Just as he could smell the sweet scent of evergreens, of the summer grass and flowers, he was struck by the heady smell of Bella Swan.
That helped, he imagined if she'd smelled too much like a meal, then he'd have even more trouble doing this.
He pulled her into his lap, situating her carefully, and gave her a pointed look, "Are you sure you want to do this?"
She nodded, face burning under his gaze, but she didn't look away or relent either. Apparently, they really were going to do this.
Perhaps, if Carlisle hadn't been married and had nothing to compare it to, or if he'd been a little more willing to be reckless, it would have been better. Perhaps if he'd allow himself more than gentle petting or sitting stock still under her virgin ministrations, chanting himself "don't crush her, don't crush her, don't crush her", then it might have been alright.
As it was, it wasn't even nervous fumbling in the backseat of a car. Instead, he imagined it was a bit more like what making love to a starfish must be like. Bella, for her safety, was on top and spent a full minute gritting her teeth against the pain of taking in such a large object for the first time in her life. Carlisle was on the bottom, desperately picturing the naked Bella as she'd been walking towards him (because he certainly wasn't picturing his wife) in order to keep his equipment functioning until the end.
He didn't thrust, because that would crush her. He didn't hold on to her, because he'd break her ribs. Edward might have been reluctant, but his fears of being intimate with her as a human weren't entirely unfounded. The entire experience became an exercise in not causing grievous bodily harm to Bella Swan.
They passed muster, intercourse was had, but he was sure it wasn't anything close to what Bella had imagined when she said, "let me feel what it means to be loved."
In the end she collapsed on top of him, covered in sweat and chlorine scented water, and noted in a daze, "That wasn't good for you, was it?"
Finally, he couldn't help it, he laughed. He was shaking with the force of his laughter, unintentionally shaking her with him, "No, I'm sorry, but no—I hope it was good for you?"
She was laughing now too, "Well, you know what? It wasn't too bad."
"I'm sorry I couldn't—"
She stopped him before he could start, holding a hand to his lips, "Please, this, this right now—I think this is what I really wanted. You've delivered everything you promised, Carlisle."
She pulled herself out of the hot tub and laid out on the deck, tucking her arms behind her head as she stared at the clear sky, allowing her red skin to cool and pale back into its natural milk white tone, "Not exactly what I imagined but—it was good, I'm glad we did this. I'm glad I—that I know what this feels like."
What this feels like. She didn't mean the sex. No, she meant the afterglow, this moment in the aftermath where they drifted through the world together.
Carlisle couldn't help but smile fondly at her, as she let her eyes trace over clouds. Even after everything that had happened, despite the fact that they were still undressed, he felt comfortable here with her.
Some indefinable, and perhaps unbreakable, bond had just been formed between the pair of them.
"It should be good for you," Bella said with a frown, jarring him from his thoughts.
"Sorry?" Carlisle asked.
"This isn't just about me," Bella said, with a sigh, sitting up to look at him, "Well, I mean, it is but—I know we can't have great sex, or anything, it might be good for me, but you just have to lie there. There must be some way I can make it better. I mean we've got a whole damn weekend to fill up here."
Oh no.
He turned to look at her fully, "Bella, you don't have to."
"No, no," Bella said, holding up both hands palm outward in defense, "I owe you; I owe you big. If Carlisle Cullen has some naughty, sexual, fantasy that he can't play out with Esme because it's too damn embarrassing or weird, I am now your girl."
"Sexual fantasy?" he spluttered.
"Sexy patient," Bella started listing off, "Sexy schoolgirl. Sexy vampire hunter. Sexy Victorian vampire victim. Sexy schoolgirl abducted by evil tentacle monsters. Sexy anime schoolgirl. Sexy magical anime schoolgirl. Sexy She-Ra, Princess of Power—"
She took a breath and just kept going, "Sexy bondage. Sexy pirates. Sexy whipped cream and chocolate sauce. Sexy fondue. Sexy strip teases. Sexy pole dancing. Sexy attempts at pole dancing—"
Carlisle was dying. No, he was dead, he was dead and in a hot tub.
"Sexy Edward style cuddling, I'm great at that one. Sexy spy. Sexy assassin. Sexy cops. Sexy plumber. Sexy pizza girl. Sexy alien abduction. Sexy Amazon warrior princess. Sexy—Um, I'm sure there's like a billion and a half more sexy things in the universe out there."
"I don't—" Carlisle started desperately, "That is, I don't have any sexual fantasies."
Bella looked at him like he was insane, "Carlisle, we just made sweet love in your hot tub. You can tell me, trust me, I will not judge."
He really didn't have any sexual fantasies though.
Emmett would probably laugh in his face, but, frankly, Carlisle didn't spend that much time thinking about sex outside the act. He and Esme would make love and, well, that was all he wanted.
He didn't need a strange power fantasy to make up for what he didn't have. He also didn't need… tentacle monsters.
"You want to hear mine?" Bella asked with raised eyebrows.
"No!" he said a little too quickly, "No, that's—I do not need to hear your sexual fantasies, Bella."
Bella flushed with embarrassment and looked away, probably wondering if it'd been wise to reveal to him that she had sexual fantasies, perhaps involving Japanese cartoon schoolgirls and tentacles.
Finally, he offered, "I like musicals."
After a very long pause Bella noted, "I did not see that one coming. I'm—you know what, I can work with that."
"No, no, not like that," Carlisle said desperately, knowing his face would be bright red if he were human, "The great classic filmed musicals. Edward tends to find them—pedantic and beneath him."
You'd think, given Edward's tastes, that he'd be quite the fan of musical theater. Perhaps the music didn't annoy him so much, but he tended to find musicals insipid, uninspired, and dull when compared to opera, ballet, and symphonies.
Then again, sometimes Edward just liked to be contrary. Half the reason he loathed both Motown, the British Invasion, and generally any song that came from the 1960's was because Carlisle had been so enthralled with the music.
"Esme has no real interest in cinema," Carlisle continued, "If you wanted to watch 'My Fair Lady' with me, I think that would be a fine way to spend the weekend."
When Bella left Sunday night, they had one afternoon in a hot tub, one heartfelt and long overdue conversation, one life changing resolution, and five movie musicals accompanied by two bowls of popcorn resting between them.
And, though Carlisle didn't know it as he drove her back to her house, there was also one unborn child.
Author's Note: Many authors pride themselves on well written sex scenes. I strive to provide the worst hot tub sex I can.
Thanks to readers and reviewers, reviews are much appreciated.
Disclaimer: I don't own Twilight