So reading all your lovely support and messages completely wowed me over. I'm so so so so so so so appreciative for your lovely words and support! From the bottom of my heart, I issue everyone of you a glorious thank you!

As expected I will be just as appreciative if you would kindly leave your thoughts on this one- One things for sure, it's been a loooong night!

Having said that I really would've loved to have got this chapter up earlier but time has flown by and I've only recently had chance to sit down and edit it. Regardless, I've had so much fun outlining the next few chapters too, and I have every hope you will enjoy it as much as I have!

Thank you so much for your support! You are all glorious!

'Hey.' I whisper from the kitchen. He's lying on his back beneath the tree of the yard, both hands hidden behind his head for comfort. He clearly didn't expect to see me down here because he jumps little and lets his eyes adjust to the shock of colour against the navy night. Though he's looking troubled, he's still so accidentally gorgeous.

'Hey yourself.' He replies softly and after a few seconds of watching me, he resettles his head back into the grass.

'What are you doing out here?' I ask, crossing the uneven path to sit next to him. He's uncomfortable at first, staring at me guiltily before shifting his eyes up to the leaves overhead.

'You should go inside. It's cold out tonight.'

'I'm fine.'

'Es, you're shivering.' He replies quickly and despite the nip in the air he shrugs out of his jacket to offer over the cardigan.

'It's the alcohol.'

Those tired eyes read over my whole posture, sadly almost, worried and a sigh leaves his lips in a cloud of air.

'Still drunk, huh?'

'Very!' I say with a giggle and throwing myself back, I copy his exact posture, ignoring his solemnity.

'Es, please.' He leans up on his elbows and nods towards the door. 'I really don't want you getting hypothermia.'

I point to his cardigan currently stuffed around my body but he doesn't seem satisfied.

'Escort me back inside, then?' I say with a wink, leaning on his right arm to seem ever more the flatterer. For a moment it's as if I don't exist and he rolls his eyes in a dismissive manner. 'Besides, I'm perfectly fine, check out the size of your cardigan.'

Leaning up, he rubs his hair back before turning towards me and tightening the buttons. I lift my rolled up sleeves at him, stupidly I'll admit, but he simply unrolls both arms so that the cuffs cover my hands and wraps his jacket around my shoulders. I look like a yeti.

'What about you?'

His t-shirted shoulders shrug. 'I'm quite warm. The Cold will do me good.'

This sounds worrying.

'Cullen, why are you mad?'

'Mad? I'm not mad?'

'Tell your face.' I mutter.

'I'm not mad?' He repeats, finally amused. 'I'm just laying here.'

That's half the problem, Genius.

'Exactly. Why aren't we upstairs?'

His sharp mouth twitches at a smile but like a reprimand to himself, his eyebrows lower and his chest rises slowly.

'You're right. You've had quite a day, maybe you should get some sleep?'

Something isn't right…

'Well come on then?' I insist, trying to stare him dead in the eyes. 'Let's get some sleep?'

I stand up too quickly and stumble over my feet again but he's up in a flash with his arms on my shoulders and every ounce of grief written on his face. I smile wickedly and half skip back into the kitchen to which he reluctantly follows, though it's clear he didn't want to. Grabbing a glass of water, and helping me off the side in a panic, he gently leads me back into the living room and encourages me to lounge comfortably.

When something catches my attention.

'What's with the bedding?' I ask confused, nodding behind him. He squeezes the pillow behind his head and sighs, the smile on his face is a wry one.

'I'm probably going to stay down here tonight?'

'What, why?'

I'm not crying. Not crying. Not crying even slightly.

He shrugs, his cheeks red before looking at the hands in his lap. 'I just think it's appropriate, I don't want to…give off the wrong impression?'

'I'm hardly gunna jump you Carlisle?' I reply tartly and it takes a while for my temper to diffuse itself. It sucks that he always finds a way to make me feel like a first class twat.

'I would never suggest such a thing?' He promises weakly. 'I just-…I want you to be comfortable.'

'You know I hate sleeping alone?'

He looks up from his lap and frowns at himself. 'Yes…but you're still…'

'I've been in your bed when I've been absolutely slaughtered. What's the difference now?'

I don't realise I'm slurring until he nods to the glass in my hand. Like a sulky cow, I deliberately push it away and fold my arms over my chest in defiance. The only reason I'm bloody finding him so attractive is thanks to alcohol! Why be an asshole now?!

…Okay so that's not strictly true…

'Don't make this awkward?' He pleads gently, a weak smile on his mouth.

I may be drunk. But I am still me. I'm a manipulative, conniving bitch.

'Have I done something?' I ask, pouring all emotion into my feeble voice like a hurt and delicate being. He caves inside himself.

'Es, that's ridiculous. You know-'

'It's because I crossed a line again, isn't it-' I push, keeping a gentle eye on his upheaval. He was sitting on his legs but he's now leant towards me, hesitantly. Hands out and his mouth crumbling.

'No! Of course not.'

'You can tell me the truth- I guess I am a slut, I can't believe how stupid-' Half being dramatic, half drawing on painful experiences, here. He groans gently and shifts even closer, his mouth curving and those cheeks rosy. He's smarter than he looks.

'Hey, hey. I've already promised to kiss you, haven't I?' He opens his palms out towards me, an offering of peace I think, and waits for me to put my hands in them before offering any comfort. 'I'm sorry, I'm just being an idiot. If you really want company, I'll sit with you until you fall asleep.'

Apparently not smart enough. This isn't what I wanted.

'But you won't sleep with me?'

He sighs softly before scratching his head as though he's in pain. Pain I'd be happy to take away if he'd let me.

'Please?' I beg, leaning my chin into his shoulder. He exhales, wincing his eyes shut a little, fidgeting. 'Please?'

'Please don't beg me-'

'Then promise you won't leave me to sleep alone?' Admittedly, I'm lathering the matter on like butter on doorstop thick bread. I couldn't sleep in his bed without him? Or rather, I sure as hell am not going to take it lightly. We could sleep down here. That's fine. I'll submit.

But I want him with me. More than the stupid bedding.

Tucking my hair behind my ear, I watch him exhaustedly shift into a better position on the sofa. Once he's noticed I'm staring, he makes no suggestion to move. Instead he tests my restraint. Without a second thought, I shift up next to him so I can warm myself to him. The jacket on my torso rustles a little but folding my arm down I realise that I have a lot more power than I may have once believed.

He has his arm around me.

'Carlisle?' I gently peer up around the hidden space of his arm to sneak a look at his expression. He's more tired than I gave him credit for. Which explains why he's easy to persuade I guess. He's always been that sweet.

'Hmm?'

'Why did you take so long to come home?'

He opens his right eye rather weakly then sighs.

'Carlisle?'

'You know what Emmett's like, Es. Impossible after a drink…'

He drops his head to the back of the sofa and patiently waits for me to settle myself into a drowsy sleep. Despite how much I need it, the simple aversion in his voice is putting off the idea.

'You're lying-'

'I didn't do anything stupid….' He sits up and rubs his eyes. Easily anticipating my temper.

But it doesn't take it's usual route. Instead of bursting out in a colourful array of abuse, I grip the material against his ribs and worriedly grasp myself to him. He breathes stiffly through his nose.

'What-'

'I promise you. I didn't do anything stupid-' He mumbles, bitterly.

'Carlisle!'

He turns to my sharp tone and guility lowers his eyes. 'I parked up for a few minutes, that was all. It's late, the shop was closed.'

'Were you seen?!'

'What does it matter- I'd only be a customer.' He looks quickly at me and then properly, squeezing my shoulder with a warm palm. 'Es?'

'I'm fine.'

'Esme, you're not breathing?'

'I'm fine.' I wheeze. 'I'm fine, I'm fine, I'm fine….'

'Hon, look at me. Look at me.' He pulls me closer and waits until he hears the rush of air through my mouth to continue. 'I swear to you, I didn't do anything. I stayed less than ten minutes before coming home.'

'You promise?' My voice is more pathetic than a petal in a blender.

'Absolutely.' I don't know if there's something about looking in my face or something else altogether but after a few more heavy breaths on his part, he surrenders himself and threads a hand into the loose waves of my hair.

'I'm sorry, I'm just-. Pissed off I guess.' He loosely scratches so that I lean into his hand a little.

'Sorry.'

'What for?' He asks patiently.

I shrug. 'It's my fault.'

'I invited her.' He concedes and it soon becomes aware we're on different wave lengths. With the hand that is not supporting my ego, he touches his cheek and rolls his eyes.

'I heard Edward slapped you…' I murmur, immediately connecting act to reaction. He looks blankly at me first, then guiltily and then rather irked. He rubs his face.

'Of course you did.'

'If it helps it wasn't Edward that told me?' Much to my annoyance.

'Course it wasn't.'

'Carlisle?'

In exhaustion he lets himself smile. 'Couldn't expect Edward to keep his mouth shut, could I?'

'Not after a drink, no.'

He agrees and waits for me to press him a little further for information but when I don't, he opens up.

'He's not entirely to blame. I was yelling.' Avoiding his own embarrassment, he reads my response. I'm not satisfied. As he should expect. '…And I did make a suggestion about…planting a bullet in someone's skull.'

'Carlisle! You hate guns!'

'I know.' He replies and then more softly: 'I know, that's why Edward had to act. Rather foolishly, I hoped it could've been kept from you.'

'Why?'

'Well it was never going to escape your notice with six intoxicated youths was it? Especially with Alice fussing about with ice every two seconds.'

Alice was fussing?

I'm shaking my head, a forbidden but nevertheless warm smile on my mouth. 'I meant why didn't you want to tell me?'

He doesn't answer, just watches me intensely. This is a disgusting subject and I'm grinning so widely, I probably look insane. Which answers his irritation, I guess.

'Car-lis-le?' I sing, leaning more into his side, trying to incidentally pull my knee up his leg in hopes it might persuade him. He goes to stop the movement by touching his fingertips to my thigh. But in doing so, because he's using his right hand, he accidentally pulls me closer to him. The tips of his touch grazing the top of my thigh rather than my knee.

Sparks eat up from my insides and the inadvertent act of simply pulling me, and therefore my legs, closer to him goads a gentle moan from my prattling tongue. He tenses a little, looking to me in confusion with his hands up in surrender but I've had to close my eyes.

This would be so much worse if I didn't have alcohol to blame.

'Are you-'

'Oh, I'm fine.' I giggle and with an intended groan, I bury my face in the bit beneath his arm.

'Urm?' Is it me or is his voice jumpy?

'Sorry, sorry. You were saying….?' I try to distract, still burying my face.

'Es…did you just... groan at me?'

'Maybe?' I can feel my face warm up, even in the space of his shirt, but he shifts to a disappointing position.

'Maybe?'

'Eurgh, stop teasing. You know I haven't had sex in ages!' This added explanation might be one of the things I was meant to keep to myself… oops.

His voice changes to a tremble but he politely pulls his arm away from me and hides the smile on his mouth. I'm missing the sparks.

'Hey!'

'I'm trying to be a-…' He pushes his hair away and chuckles to himself. 'You're really drunk.'

'I've been worse?' This might be a way of trying to persuade him to sit so close to me. Especially when I put a hand on his knee. With an eyebrow raised he carefully shakes me off.

'Es.' He murmurs, trying to hide the laugh as he watches my shitty attempt at seduction but that's fine because I'm going to stare at him a little longer and see what happens.

'My Love, if I'm not going to kiss you there's no way in hell I'm going to be doing that?'

Well fuck. Now I'm coming on the spot.

My Love?!

His Love, huh? That's new. Not just new, it's intimate. It's… a turn-on. Am I winning? Because he's never called me My Love before? It's so old fashioned. My Love is so much more involved than Hon…We've crossed some sort of line, surely?

'What about if you don't kiss me?' I suggest, slowly. I dance a little with the sound, letting my tongue flirt with the words until the accidental fizz in my groin begins to build.

'Come again?'

Urgh! That's what I'm trying to do, Cullen.

Carefully, with my right hand returning to make circles in his knee, I use my left to push him against the couch, being evasive enough to let my nails rake at his shoulder. Though he's fighting to not smile, he doesn't fight anything else and as if I had the touch of gold, he quickly comes around to the value of my limbs.

That is until I take it too far and pull my hands too hard down his arm. He takes an amused breath and forces a frown on his face before resisting my touch.

'Woah, Tiger.' He laughs, the sounds like candy in my mouth as he moves to clasp my arms with his two hands. Firmly holding me still.

'What if I do-'

This time, he's cut me off with an index against my lip, tussling the layers of his hair in a shake. Perhaps I'd be enjoying this so much more right now if he wasn't laughing at me. Eurgh, I'm so hot for him, I can feel the heat of being in my very core... And I'm not even touching him!

Almost.

He waits patiently for me to settle away from him, up on my knees, before moving his hand from my lips. I am so close to biting him, it's unreal.

'Think about it this way. For tonight at least, I have 'herpes'.'

'Herpes?!' I repeat disgustedly. He laughs and nods his head, the chuckle warm and loving.

'Yep, herpes. You don't want to kiss me because if you do, you'll get herpes.'

I mutter something under my breath about herpes being semi-curable but he shakes his head and grins with a full set of teeth.

'What if I-' I begin to challenge the threat, lowering my eyes to his belt and simply wishing for some kind of implication that he was enjoying himself. Nope. Nothing. For fuck sake. That's not fair. I'm spoiling myself right now.

'Don't want to transfer the herpes.' He replies smartly and when I look most angry, he takes the risk to wink at me. I could sob from frustration.

'But I don't have herpes!' I whine pathetically, groaning and not for the right reasons this time. He smirks famously and I feel myself start to drool.

'Sorry Hon. You did kiss me-'

'Well then we're both infected and-'

'It doesn't work like that,' he teases, smugly

'This is the worst.' I gripe lifting my chin and letting the ends of my hair fall right down my back.

It would seem that at this current moment in time, I couldn't be more wrong. This isn't the worst. Not when I can dream of Cullen sliding up against me, properly. Helping me to moan.

No, this isn't the worst. Not even the teasing or his genuine amusement.

What is the worst is when a series of muffled squeaks upstairs become louder. So much louder. And they aren't just squeaks. There's squeaks, moans, demands, commands and at the very epitome of worst- the whine of my bed springs.

With a face of fury, I turn to Zeus and growl. He's laughing hysterically. I'm pissed off.

'You have got to be kidding me.'

'Oh Es. I'm sorry-'

'No! No, don't even go there. This is so not fair!'

He laughs even harder, his cheeks glowing as he holds his stomach.

'This isn't funny, Carlisle!'

'I know, I know. I'm sorry. I'm not laughing-.'

Yes he is. He's laughing a lot. And much to my disgrace, his laughter is cheering me up, too. With a grin that easily could be mistaken for disbelief, he pulls himself away, takes a deep breath and tries to face me on with sympathy. Which results in him guffawing in my face.

'On the upside, we won't have to listen for long.' I say with a shrug, trying to throw my weight back into him again. He doesn't open his arm up for a cuddle this time, but that's fine because he's apparently content enough to let me lay against him. Even if I can still feel his laughter beneath my body.

He smells like mint, his cologne and warmth.

Once he's finally stopped laughing, he hums gently which is an obvious ask for me to repeat myself.

'I said we won't have to listen to long.' I repeat, mischievously. 'I hear the Cowboy's stamina doesn't allow for marathons-'

'Jesus, Es!' He whines, laughing once more out of shock.

'What? Alice is always going on about it. That's why they have-' I have to stop because a series of fast grunts and groans are becoming gradually louder. I'm going to have to burn my bed. 'Anyway, that's why they have sex a lot in one sitting.'

'Didn't need to know that!' He sings nervously, and I can imagine how warm his cheeks are simply going by how warm he feels against my back.

Silence.

Cullen sighs, relieved but I know better and I cringe waiting for a series of more cries to make themselves known. Alice caws and from there, the joint sounds of them both fill our home. Fantastic. I lift my head to see Carlisle both disgusted and pink and laugh.

'Told ya.'

'Jesus. How thin are our walls?!' His nervous giggling starts up again and I patiently wait to take my cue.

'Why do you think I prefer to put out, outside the house?' I murmur with a smart-ass grin. He wisely chooses to ignore it.

'I think I'm going to have to get someone in. That's ridiculous.'

'And why is that, Cullen?' I demand, looking at him with a raised eyebrow. He smirks and turns away from my face.

'I meant since Edward has Bella, now.'

'Sure you did, you Slut.'

'Hey!' He whines, playfully. 'Need I remind you that I'm still the vi- Hell, that really was quick?'

To answer his point. No. No he does not need to remind me that he's still a virgin. I can feel it through the very absence in my bits. For fuck sake Cullen, hurry up and fill me in-.

'I told you.' I repeat again but he's looking frightfully pale.

'But that couldn't have been more than three minutes?!'

'Are you counting?' I tease him, waiting patiently for the blush to taint his cheeks. It arrives quicker than I'd assumed and he, once more, fights to avoid looking at me, biting his lower lip to stop the smirk.

'No.'

'You don't need to freak, Hon. Not all guys come so quickly.'

The moment his famous pet name rolls out my mouth, a shock of blue hits me. Followed by the oncoming rush of pink. If I'm going to try seduce him again, here's my chance. It's not going to come any sooner.

With a tiredly patient look on his face, he waits for me to do as he presumes. Move. His eyes are heavy, maybe a little watery but seem to focus on nothing but me. He is smiling, weakly and his hair is a bit crazy but, much to his ignorance, he's open to my intrusion.

'And even if they do-' I whisper, coming up to rest against his side again. He doesn't move. Not even to breathe. He's not smiling anymore, he's just perfectly still except for his eyes which follow me everywhere I turn.

Starting from his left shoulder, which I'm clambered against, I slowly trail my hand to his chest. It's warm and I can feel each pulse in my fingertips beat against his chest, his diaphragm rising in sync to his lungs.

'-It doesn't spoil the fun.' I murmur in his ear.

He closes his eyes, head bent back a little but at the same time as doing that, his hand clasps mine to stop it moving any lower. For fuck sake, I'm literally getting off on pure energy between the two of us.

'Esme-' He whispers, pleadingly.

'Mm-Hmm?'

I deliberately let my hair tickle against his neck and arm, tilting my jaw a little. Pouting. To be fair, I'm pushing his limit far beyond what is fair but he's painfully beautiful. Even if he's tired, he's struggling to fight with me. I want him now just as much as I do sober. And judging by the crinkle of his eyebrow, the frown, the tense angle of his face- he had to feel the same?

The amalgamation of our moist breath is one of the many things building the feeling in my gut and I find myself, because I'm a bad person, caressing the hand that is trapping mine. I softly rub a thumb along his finger and back again to his hand.

I think he's about to let me fall into him, like literally mouth to mouth because that's where we're positioned and his eyes are flirting with me so sweetly. However, with a quick tug he's pulling me to my feet and worse, the kitchen.

'Come on Little Miss. Let's get you sober.'

Hell fucking yes! Wait-.

'Little Miss?!' I repeat repulsively. But he's still pulling me by the hand, the t-shirt slipping from my shoulder so that when he turns around, he looks like he's about to lose his calm.

He didn't see me slip out the cardigan of course.

Instead, he turns up the music (because the pair in my bedroom are disgustingly loud), and resets the cups on the table back to the game we were playing earlier. With one difference. The cups have water in them. Great. Sobriety had to mean a snog? At the very least.

He offers the small ball to me and steps away.

'How about we make this interesting?' I propose, letting the ball bounce to the floor and into my hand just the once. It makes a sharp sound against the tiles. One that's going to wake me up as much as this water might.

'I'm listening?'

'For every cup scored, an item of clothing has to come off?'

He stares at me. That's all. Until the Adam's apple in his throat bobs and he takes a deep breath.

'Like strip water-pong?'

'Yeah!' I cheer enthusiastically.

'No.' He tries to hide the smile but the only place its going is the rest of his face.

'Spoil sport.'

He shrugs and indicates the table.

I'm going to be honest. I'm far more drunk than I'd hoped meaning that after many crap shots, including Carlisle's generosity in promising not to start until I score one of his glasses, I give up and push him away to drink as much of the water as possible. Apparently even something that impressive isn't enough to satisfy him.

'There's four more cups left, Es.' He murmurs nodding to the table.

'Yeah and if I'll drink that I'll burst,' I complain and then I realise I'm singing and therefore I'm not sober. Goddammit.

'Four cups. I've seen you do that with alcohol.' He continues to play but apparently a frown is not enough of a reply.

'Nope.'

'Don't be such a Whinger. Drink the damn water!'

'Are you swearing at me, Carlisle Cullen?!'

He rolls his eyes and steps away. 'Of course not, My Dear. Please will you finish the water?'

'Why? What's got you so keen?' I say wearily, raising an eyebrow at him. He looks like he wants to pull his hair from his head in frustration.

'I don't want you to feel crap tomorrow?'

'Hilarious.' He's so full of shit. He'd much rather I was out of it for the next two days. That way I won't be on at him about stupid things.

'Fine! I don't want to have yet another episode of 'Guess what intoxicated-Esme did?' on my hands!'

'You do realise you haven't even told me what happened the last time?'

He rolls his eyes and then jumps and points to the cup. It's like watching a cartoon character get an idea.

'Drink the other four and I'll tell you.'

'Tell me and I'll drink the other four.' I suggest instead. He sighs and shakes his head, his hair flopping.

'Compromise: start drinking and I'll tell you.'

This is a stupid thing for him to suggest but I do it anyway. He waits for me to completely finish the first cup before saying anything.

'Ready?'

I wipe the excess water from my top lip and nod.

'You pretty much did the same as you're doing now except you fought to take off your clothes... And said a few more stupid things, of course.'

'Lucky you. Dinner and a show.' I tease breathlessly, continuing to drink the second glass. I had no idea how thirsty I actually was. But then, at the same time, the image of him having no choice but to see me naked had a way of making me feel expertly thirsty.

I wanted to imagine the look on his face as he fought with drunk Esme for clothes. I wanted to see the look now.

'A show?' He says frowning.

The glass is still covering my mouth so I use a finger to point to my chest. He turns pink pretty much immediately.

'I didn't look! What do you take me for, Esme?'

'An idiot!' I say once I've drained the glass. He frowns and then asks me to repeat myself.

'Excuse my bragging, but my tits are hella-fiiine. You missed out.'

'Are you criticising the fact I didn't perv on you?!' He questions, aghast. I wink at him to which he looks utterly conflicted at.

'It's hardly perverted if there was an invitation?'

'No, it's completely perverted. You were out of it?' He corrects, annoyed.

'Aw, don't give me that sour face. I'm more than happy to show them off now but I know you'd-'

'You're drunk.' He murmurs. The tone does the translation for me. He's complaining. I on the other hand think I'm unbelievably funny.

He's staring hard at me, trying to find the words in his brain but it's left to frustrated stuttering. I watch him in amusement, continuing to blurt words but nothing is happening. He's just being a twit. He doesn't even make any acknowledgment of my stupid dance moves. He just watches me. Which is fine because I've got two cups left. I grab one and throw the contents at him so that the exterior is broken and he jumps back.

'What was that for?!' He whines, flicking the water from his front.

'Cold?' I ask him, poking my tongue out. He grabs a dry cloth and wipes his front, shaking his head at me and trying, really, really trying not to smile.

'Oh lighten up Cullen, it was just a bit of fun.'

'Hilarious.' He agrees, sarcastically. 'It's not like I can do the same to you- you're wearing white.'

'Oh yeah?' I laugh gently and watch his frown dissemble against his smile.

'Yes.' He replies, still trying to dry himself. He doesn't want to admit it but he's going to have to take his shirt off. And he doesn't want to provoke the dragon of my pussy. Meaning add fuel to the fire. Meaning he doesn't want to end up in a similar situation to the other night with him handcuffed to the bed.

In fact...

While his attention is distracted, I grasp the last cup and wait for his eyes to clock mine. Naturally, he moves his gaze from shirt to my face and when he does he groans.

'What are you-'

'Oops?!'

With a grin, I pour the cup onto my chest and try not to react from the cold. From the look on his face, my t-shirt hasn't gone see-through. I look down at myself, frown initially and then laugh at myself. Even if it had, I'm wearing too many layers for it to be noticeable. Damn.

'Well that was clever, wasn't it?'

'I was trying to get your attention!' I complain.

'You have my attention.' He replies and though he knows he shouldn't laugh, he has to or his face is going to split. 'You're such a pain when you're drunk.'

'Fight me?'

'Change your t-shirt.'

But within seconds he takes back his demand and holds down my arms to stop me from moving.

'I meant upstairs.'

'Mood killer. Give me five minutes.'

'I'll give you ten.' He replies and with a gesture towards our upstairs he waits for me to make a dramatic exit. Such a promise requires me throwing his T-shirt at him from behind the wall.

Cullen's such a pain in the ass. He doesn't give me five minutes. Nor ten. He gives me fifteen. Which by rights should make a lot of sense. It points out that Cullen is really a gentleman. He's gentle, he's thoughtful and he's careful about trusting my drunken ass. It reinforces an enormous amount of respect I have for him and his ultimately sexy as hell face.

However.

As the drunk young asshole I am, I spend a lot of time parading around in his room. Naked. It's just pathetic fun at first, I think I'm being really funny and then I stop and catching his wardrobe mirror, I quickly start to judge every inch of my skin. Which is fine because I'm being relatively gentle with myself.

This isn't a euphemism. I'm essentially looking at my stomach, my legs, my baboon butt, my tits-. It might be the alcohol but I'm feeling okay. In fact I'm just about to grab one of Carlisle's button downs when he knocks and enters, immediately after.

'So I was- Jesus Esme!'

He doesn't really know what to do, just throws his hands over his eyes and turns away.

'I gave you fifteen minutes! You said you were ready!'

'Just close the door, Carlisle.' I reply with an entertaining giggle.

'Oh shit! You're so right.'

There's a bang as he goes to turn away and quite literally slams his face into the door though he still refuses to open his eyes.

'Ouch.'

'Are you okay?' I'm dying of laughter this is so Goddamn funny.

'Yeah, I'm fine. Are you decent? Can I open my eyes now?'

'Two seconds.' I murmur, still watching him.

He stands closer to the door as he closes it, every inch of him turning pink despite my giggling fit. When he speaks, his voice is thick and he's so embarrassed I'm tempted to cuddle him.

'I'm so sorry- I completely wasn't thinking-.'

'It's fine.' I say softly, still checking out his back and his legs and his butt. Fucking yum.

'Just to reiterate- I didn't see-' He starts nervously.

'I know.' I reply, laughing.

His ears are pink and the hand that's hanging down his side is fidgeting. I want to run my fingers through his hair, rub his shoulders. Make him feel better. But I don't do that. I don't move, I simply drop the shirt from my shoulders and let it slip down my skin to a puddle of fabric on the floor.

'I'm so-'

'Hon, stop panicking. You've already seen-.' I have to stop myself because I'm realising this is not the kind of shit to make him feel okay. 'It was an accident.'

He sighs once more and turns his face towards me though he's completely blind.

'Are you decent?'

I watch him gently turn around, his hands still over his face, his hair fluffy. I pull mine to the side of my neck.

'Yes.'

'Thank- For fuck sake Es!' He groans and throws his hands to his eyes again, turning quickly in a speedy jump. 'You said you were decent!'

'I am.'

'Eurgh! You knew I wasn't-. You know this is completely immoral of me?! I should have stayed downstairs!'

'Immoral?' I repeat, trying not to laugh.

'Immoral, unacceptable, completely perverted! You're drunk…'

Rolling my eyes, I pick the shirt off the floor and pull it back on. He's still ranting quite a bit so once I'm done with the buttons, I decide to push him even further and come to sit on the edge of the bed, my legs stretched in front of me.

'Alright, you can stop complaining, I'm dressed now.'

'You're completely undermining the whole point!' He complains, still afraid to open his eyes. I wait a little more, tempted to poke him but he eventually gives in and sighs, relieved. 'Believe it or not, you're still intoxicated and it's not okay-'

'Cullen?' I intervene, bored.

'And another-. What?'

'You're not looking at me?' I provoke, crossing my ankles to elongate my legs a little. His jaw falls open, his eyes start to follow the curve of my leg but he seems to realise what he's doing, gulps and turns around in a panic to which he hits his head again with a classic 'thump'

'You know why.' He mutters, rubbing his face and standing so close to the door that it's like I'm holding a gun to his back.

'I've been drunk and naked before, Carlisle. Try another one.'

'I know that! But things are-. Err. Well we've kinda been-. It's just that- urgh….You're still naked?' Despite the fact that I am no longer naked, the way his nervous voice falters on the last word is a big enough ego boost for anyone.

'Meaning?'

'Meaning that it's inappropriate for me to look at you!'

He's heating up under the pressure of my gaze and presumably my legs also because he's keeping his eyes to where I've planted my feet, afraid for movement. But I like that. He's just revealed himself to be a legs man. And thankfully, my legs seem to be causing quite the scene.

'Because?' I continue to taunt. That does it, he's raged himself into such a stubborn stir that the attack of my calm teasing pushes him over the top.

'Because!' He closes those sparkling eyes and deliberately holds himself even tighter to the door. 'Because you're gorgeous!'

I was making him stroke my eg, I know that. Except it's not enough. It's not enough to be flattered and neither would it be enough for me to flatter him. We need something more. Tangibility.

'And?' I ask softly.

'Can we just stop with the-'

'And?' I repeat maliciously.

He groans, his whole body softening as he tries to find a sense of calm in his crazy sea of hormones. His neck is also particularly red, the kind of red that would normally have me assuming he's suffocating. Instead, he's squeaking.

'And I'm attracted to…you.'

It's horrible of me to have pushed him so far, really horrible. But my insides melt all over again and I'm half tempted to steal a snog.

'See,' I murmur, twisting my calf just for the sheer confusion on his expression. 'That wasn't so hard now, was it?'

I move to touch his shoulder now to which his whole body volts at. I'm a little concerned at first. Maybe offended by his disgust in himself at then I realise he's breathing very rigidly.

'No comment.' He murmurs.

Universe is imploding. He does have a working cock! And better yet, it wants to work for me. Finally.

'Cullen?' I whisper.

'Give me a few seconds, will you?'

'Cullen!'

'Es, I'm trying to focus here! If you want me to stay with you, you're going to need to give me a moment.'

'Carlisle!'

Though he doesn't want to, he turns briefly towards me and gasps a little, snapping his eyes shut once again. I cast my eyes downwards and roll my eyes. The buttons are a little too loose and you can definitely see my cleavage. Maybe a bit more. His eyebrows are furrowed and he's so pink I can't ever imagine him Caucasian.

'You don't need to be embarrassed Carlisle.' I murmur, taking a gentle step towards him. He stiffens, even more I guess, and hides against the wood. I inch closer.

'It's perfectly natural-'

'It's ridiculous. It's not okay that I can't-.' He cuts his sentence short and groans again. 'You're not even consenting to this! You're completely- what are you doing?'

But grabbing the same bottle of spirit I was trying to guzzle earlier, I swing my hip a little to judge his reaction. He swallows and looks away.

'Here you are, then?'

'What?

'Try it.' I encourage.

'Are you out of your mind? This is clearly not what I meant!'

I push out my hip and lean on it to test him again. He forgets what he's doing. Forgets that he's gazing, forgets where his eyes are leading him- and then with a groan he remembers.

'Take the bottle, Carlisle. It's just water.'

He frowns at me, looks at me suspiciously then the bottle and snatches it out of my hand before taking a quick swig. Gulping, he pulls the bottle from his mouth and glares at me.

'Will you please stop lying to me?!'

So I take back the bottle and push it to the desk, grinning.

'Now you can't consent either. We're at an impasse.'

'Esme, I'm not drunk!'

'Me either.' I grin. 'Now step away from the door before you get sperm on it.'

'Semen.'

'Excuse me?'

'Nothing, it's just that it wouldn't-. Oh for fuck sake. Why are we even having this conversation?! Stop talking about sperm!'

He's still pink and still panicking and still facing the door but at least he's stepped away from it now. While his eyes are on me, I wink at him.

'You're right. What did you want to discuss? Porn? Tits? My wet pussy?'

For a millisecond, even less than that, he lets himself relent to such an idea. His knees almost fail him and the gentle stutter of breath can easily be taken for a groan.

'Not. Helping.' He punctuates, weakly.

'By all means, you only have to ask?'

'Esme- Please, I'm trying here. If you keep going on, I'm going downstairs!'

He takes another step away from the door and breathes through his nose again. So I grab his hand and pull him until he's facing me. He's stark white now.

'Don't make you nervous, do I, Cullen?'

'N-n-no.'

'Did you want to try that again?' I offer

He's biting his lip, his breathing is crazy and even from a step away I can feel the heat of his panic flowing off him into his heartbeat and into my palm.

'Esme…' he whispers, warningly.

But for a warning, it does little to help. I link my hand with his, squeezing the damp warmth from his hands and gently tug him with me towards the bed. For once, he doesn't complain. He just gives in to desire.