Boyfriend Swapping – Couples Style

A/N: These characters are the property of Stephenie Meyer. Do you like boy-on-boy love? (!) If not, or if you are too young to understand the term slash, leave now. I'm writing this without benefit of a beta, so there's really no one to blame but myself.

Musical muse & chapter title: George Michael's version of 'Faith' youtube (dot) com / watch?v=6ISHYtccEs0 (I like 'Freedom' as well.)

Chapter 6 Need Some Time Off from That Emotion (JPOV)

From Chapter 5: (EPOV)

Soft endearments pass between us before I tug the coverlet off the bed and wrap it around Jasper's limp form, snugging a pillow under his head. Pulling him close, I'm tired and just content to cuddle on the thickly padded carpet until he feels like moving again.

Running my fingers through his shiny blond waves, I watch as his face relaxes into sleep. And this time, I follow him.

Present Day:

I've sliced the chicken breasts into strips, and dropped the meat into the heated peanut oil. It sizzles and pops as I chop the bok choy, carrots, green onions, and straw mushrooms. Humming, I focus in on the task; I don't want to lose a finger to my Chuka Bocho. When an errant lock of limp hair slips free of the rubber band I rescued from the onions, I curse loudly and impatiently swat it out of my eyes.

I'm distracted because today's session with my therapist did not go well. The soothing strawberry-scented candle burning in the corner of her whitewashed third-story office on Melrose failed to soften my agitation. Her questions, undeniably reasonable but direct, had gently nudged me towards a conclusion I'd hoped to avoid.

"Why don't you tell him instead of me?" Her expression neutral, I still hear the reproach in her voice. My therapist's piercing gray eyes and layered shoulder-length dark hair was in stark contrast to her casual turquoise slacks and form-fitting pineapple print long-sleeve tee. Her expensive heavy gold jewelry encircling neck and delicate wrists completed her 'don't-give-a-damn-rich-woman' style. The woman's waist was so tiny my immediate thought upon first meeting her had been 'and here's yet another serial-purger.'

"Isabella, I wouldn't know where to begin." I shake my head sadly again as I recall more of our conversation, sluggishly stirring the sizzling chicken.

"I can't even tell him I'm seeing you; how am I to tell him the rest of it?" I recall how defeated I felt as I said the words and even more so now, standing alone in our kitchen, staring at the wall.

"Jasper, I never suggest anything I know a patient is incapable of doing," Isabella finished primly.

I wasn't quick enough to control my grimace at her words, and she gave me a sheepish smile, immediately recognizing my reaction for what it was: reluctance.

Isabella was only trying to help me. In fact, I admired her for agreeing to see me at a steep reduction in her usual fees. She was a distant relative of the Swans to whom I'd been introduced during a charity event Edward and I had attended. We'd been invited only because I was their son Jacob's instructor.

Charming me, Isabella had asked for my insights on adolescent boys I had in my classes. We'd spoken at length about my general observations, and I felt comfortable with her. I had suspected she was filing away the information for later review with Charlie and Renee, but I'd been discreet, not naming their son Jacob specifically in our conversation. Smiling, I'd eventually asked for her card, anticipating calling her in the not-so-distant future if something didn't change between my partner and me.

It hadn't taken long to make the call. I'd carried that card in my wallet for a few weeks, dialing her number just before the Prop 8 decision was announced, my feelings jumbled and crashing around inside me. I'd been thinking too much about what a favorable ruling might mean for us. One session was all I'd planned to schedule with her. Today had been session number two.

I hadn't anticipated much from that first session, but her gently probing questions had unexpectedly released a tidal wave of emotion. Made worse perhaps, because I knew Edward couldn't guess at the depth of my feelings and conflict. On the surface, I was the perfect boyfriend—that was my demeanor around him. We rarely disagreed about anything, but then again rarely did I fully reveal too much to him. It was too risky. He loved me, and I had learned to be content with that.

Today was different: Isabella had tried to make me see the upside in telling Edward I wanted a defined future for us, but I was choking on asking him for it. We reviewed some possible outcomes if Edward discovered how I felt-suffocated, or maybe gagged would be more accurate.

I'd had to agree that none of the plausible reactions I imagined from him were as damaging as I had instinctively felt they would be for us. The exercise was both freeing and unsettling.

When my cell begins chiming, I see the stir fry needs attention again and take a moment to toss the chicken before snatching up my I-Phone, another gift from Edward who is calling me to report his ETA.

"What are you cooking? Need anything from Gelson's?"

It is tempting to suggest he stop in at the grocers to delay his return, but I can't play him like that.

"We're good—stir-fry again tonight. Do you mind?" I wonder if he can hear the exhaustion in my voice. Even so, he'd just assume it was the martial arts workout.

"Jigsaw, you sound tired. I'm home in about fifteen. Miss you." He hangs up without waiting for my reply.

I carefully set the phone on the kitchen table and return to my preparations. I'd mentioned the cousin Peter issue to Isabella today, looking for some way to deflect her other questions and maybe score a suggestion or two.

"This is the first time you've mentioned Edward's mother, Jasper. Now she's suggesting that Peter move into the apartment you share with Edward?"

I had a flash that perhaps my therapist's motivation in taking me on at a nominal fee was to learn more about the sometimes operatic life I led. Nah—her office was on Melrose Avenue—she had to have seen it all by now.

"It would only be for a few weeks. But I've already told Edward it's a bad plan."

"What does Edward say about it?"

"He's torn-he hates disappointing his mother. I guess I should give in on this one."

"Are you sure that's what he wants? Are you being fair to Edward?"

I thought carefully about her question and sheepishly conceded, "I know his mother isn't the issue; it's me. I'm not always honest with him about what I want. What Elizabeth wants shouldn't influence us."

"Are you friendly with Elizabeth? Has she said she disapproves of you being Edward's partner?"

"Nothing's ever been said to my face. Edward didn't come out of the closet until his early twenties, just a few years before we met. I am his first boyfriend." I realized how pathetic 'boyfriend' sounds after living together for three years. "She's never been unfriendly, really, but I've guessed she is just accepting the inevitable."

"Does Edward have a good rapport with your mother, or the other members of your family?"

"He's only spoken to my family via phone. We've never made a trip back to Texas, and they don't really travel. I've been back once, without him."

I caught Isabella's lip curling just for an instant. But she wouldn't comment on it.

"What about your friends, Emmett and Riley?"

"She doesn't like them very much. She's subtle about it, though. I've never tried to pin down her reasons until today."

The stylish woman in the chair across from me dropped the edge of the embroidered pillow she'd been gripping unconsciously, her eyes friendly as she leaned in to me. "Relations with a partner's family can be a challenge for anyone, Jasper. Have you tried to establish a closer bond with her?"

Shifting uncomfortably, I was gratified when she seemed to remember she was in danger of invading my space. She eased back into her seat, grabbing her sketchpad and pen. "Have you, Jasper?"

Glancing at the clock, I see more than ten minutes have passed since Edward's call. Time to add the carrots—they'll take a few minutes longer than the rest of the vegetables.

Impulsively, I decide to act on Isabella's expensive advice today, beginning with telling Edward the easy stuff.

I snag a carrot chip before sweeping the remaining vegetables into the pan just as I hear Edward's key in the door. Eager to see him again, I head for the sound of his whistle of appreciation at the smells wafting in from the kitchen.

"Love your stir-fry chicken, baby," he greets me warmly.

I watch his hands carelessly release his work items into the deep woven basket just inside the apartment's entrance before coming to rest on my shoulders. I move close for a quick peck on his ruby lips; he takes a moment to savor our reunion and sinks into our kiss, pulling me tighter against him. "Food," I stutter against his mouth, hearing the pop of the oil as I resurface from the all-encompassing warmth that is an Edward hug.

"I'll wash up first," he offers. "We can talk while we eat if that's okay with you?"

My urge for the reassurance of his kiss satisfied, I agree and return to the kitchen to save our dinner.

Emerging from the bedroom in a pair of faded shorts, Edward is hungry. "Sit down, Jasper—tough day on the mats? Let's sit at the table for a change." His eyes tracking me, he none-the-less moves efficiently through the kitchen, gathering plates, knives, forks, and napkins as I fill a stem with wine for him, my mug of cider at my elbow. He serves me before slumping into his chair with a plate heaped with vegetables and chicken.

Chewing contentedly, I take a moment to survey my boyfriend. His chiseled, youthful features look a little soft around the edges with just a shadow of beard, signs of a long day seeing demanding patients. It hurts to see Edward has hints of dark circles under his normally smiling eyes, testament to the professional paper he is drafting in outline form late at night. If it's accepted for publication, he may be invited to make a presentation at his Society's conference in Venice in February. Unfortunately, while an exciting opportunity for us to visit Italy, it's also more stress on him.

"Slow down, Ed, you are inhaling the food," I chide. "Didn't you have lunch out today?"

"Listen mush-mouth: I'll slow down if you speed up. Not all of us have the discipline for twenty-chews-per-swallow," he teases me, a familiar refrain.

I clear my throat, a sign he knows means I have something to tell him. He looks up expectantly, setting his fork down. "Yes?" His hand drifts down to clasp my upper thigh and squeeze before running his fingers lightly along the inside of my leg. His other hand finds its way into his hair, smoothing it down before automatically fluffing it up, a tic he can't break.

"I was on Melrose Avenue today." Waiting for clarification, he says nothing.

"Do you remember meeting Isabella Swan, that divorced, petite woman from the charity fundraiser Jacob Swan's parents held in June?" I am only a little nervous now that I have begun, keeping my eyes fixed on my empty plate.

"The therapist? The one who looks like an older Emma Watson?" I nod. "Sure, so tiny and yet so vibrant in that room of wealthy, complacent people. Clumsy, too, as I recall. Didn't she spill her wine down the front of someone's dress?"

"Yeah, while she was otherwise occupied eye-fucking you."

"Never. I plead the Fifth."

"Right." I pause and steeling my nerves, start small. "I made an appointment with her. She offered me a reduced rate."

I chance a look up at him, catching sight of the surprise on his face before his professional, unruffled mask drops into place.

"So how was your first visit, or is it a session?"

"The first one went well; today was my second session with her."

Edward says nothing, waiting for me to continue. Such is my concentration it takes a minute before I register he has removed his hand from my leg.

"You haven't told me you were seeing a therapist," he says, his voice stiff.

Not knowing what to say next, I decide I've said enough. It's his turn.

Edward watches me closely as I look everywhere but at him.

"Is there anything you can share with me, Jasper?"

Understanding that he is respecting my status as a patient, I nod. "I've been in some turmoil about recent events and thought she might help me sort through it."

"Granted," he comments drily on my non-statement, wanting more.

Unfortunately, an unanticipated problem has arisen: I haven't thought through what to say next after making my great revelation.

Growling quietly in frustration, I make a comme ci, comme ca motion with my hand, and standing, leaving him sitting alone at the table.

Dejected and worn down, I drop heavily into the softly plump curves of the couch. Eventually, he follows me into the room and hesitates before sinking down beside me and draping an arm over the backrest. "Tell me, Baby," he whispers against my neck. "Is it me?"

"Never you," I answer automatically.

"Didn't you enjoy our overnight on Wednesday? You were moaning like you did. Many times, as I recall."

I feel the usual flare of resentment and anxiety when someone expects me to readily agree, and I don't. But this is Edward. I have to play fair with him.

"Can we change topics? I'm tired of talking about it. And Wednesday at La Playa was amazing. My ass is still sore, you hound."

"Sweet baby, Tanya caught me wincing yesterday afternoon and asked if I needed a massage!" He grins, sharing his response. "Not that kind of a massage' was on the tip of my tongue, but I held it in."

His weak joke is a welcome diversion; too bad my laugh sounds a little forced.

"Do you need any money for the visits, Jasper? If this wasn't your last session?"

"No money for now, thanks, honey," my answer deftly sidestepping his question. I nuzzle his cheek before asking, "What time tomorrow are we meeting Peter at Elizabeth's?"

"You can take a pass. He's my cousin. Go play softball with Emmett and Riley."

"Edward." He looks askance at my tone. "Peter isn't renting the spare bedroom. Elizabeth will try to guilt you into agreeing to take him in. Maybe I should come with you."

"No. She won't." Hearing my sigh, he answers me more honestly with, "She won't succeed if she tries."

Not exactly believing him, I shove him away from me, dissatisfied but not sure why. His voice urgent, he tries to distract me with, "And here I was about to divest you of your shirt, baby, not dwell on my family's problems," as his fingers tug ineffectually at the material bunched under my shoulders. I lean forward, and the shirt magically disappears over my head and the side of the couch.

"Umm, you were saying something?" My voice drops a register or two at the feeling of his silky hair skimming my chest as he licks down my neck, fingers tracing lines and hollows.

"Nothing much," he mutters as one hand slips into my hair, and a pair of lips lands hungrily on my nipple.

"Still tender…" I whine as he sucks the skin a little too insistently between his teeth.

"I'm sorry." Repentant, he lifts up and cups my chin, eyes fathomless pools of emerald. "God, Jasper, after spending the afternoon arguing with Elizabeth and Peter, I'll be a raging, crimson-eyed beast when I get home. At least you'll be spared my family's drama."

Perversely, I almost wish I was going with him. But instead I'll be spending the afternoon playing softball with Em and Rile. Like the good boyfriend that I am.

Sea-Tac 2008

Arriving in Seattle after what amounted to five hours of travel, Edward was beaming as he took in the hustle of passengers moving through the airport. He seemed to thrive on this type of energy; he'd acted much the same as we scurried through LAX, late again and nearly missing the flight.

"Let's get the rental car and check our directions quickly; I'm eager to see Leah and introduce you."

"And Alice," I chided him.

"Necessary evil; the sprite only manifests around my fellow Kwaiya healer."

"What?"

"Leah is part Quileute. She shared some Native legends with me during long shifts, and I retained some phrases."

The drive through Seattle to the suburb of Lynnwood takes about an hour; even concentrating on navigating the heavy traffic can't dispel his festive attitude as we draw closer to their neighborhood. I eagerly scan the area's terrain, looking for something different than the urban sprawl I see everyday around L.A. There's a little less concrete here, I notice.

"Are you ready for a hike through the Sitka Spruce on Saturday? We can take the ferry over to the Olympic Peninsula. I can't wait to show you Olympic National Park; I'm sure we can see it without driving all way into Port Angeles. We'll only be able to explore a fraction of it in the short amount of time we'll have here."

"Will Alice and Leah go hiking with us?"

Edward's expression is unreadable, but he makes a face. "Guess the girls would have to go."

"Wouldn't we be rude house guests if we ditched our hostesses for an all-day outdoor adventure?" Before he can respond, I casually ask if the Olympic Peninsula harbors any bears. Black bears, for instance?

"Probably?"

When he sees my face, he blushes, and offers, "But I had plans for pulling you into the woods."

His reaction is enough to trigger a really vivid image of exactly what we'd do hidden away among the world's oldest, tallest giants, a canopy of moss above us. Ed watches the transformation in my attitude, and flashes me a knowing smile. And thus ends my protests about the Park; I'll take my chances with the bears and other wildlife for time alone with him.

Thirty minutes later, Ed has piloted us directly to Leah and Alice's house, a celery-color two-story with large, white-framed windows and lush landscaping. It shines like a small, modest jewel through our rain-spotted windshield. I can see two women of uneven heights standing beneath a colorful golf umbrella.

"And there's Leah, waiting on the lawn for us!" Edward pulls into their drive and shutting down the engine, is out of the car and sprinting toward Leah before I've unbuckled and tugged my underwear back in place. I guess he's really missed her.

I take a moment to study the two women, the tall one clearly the object of Edward's rapt attentions. Edward's body language is the most relaxed I've ever seen him in a public setting as he struggles to close up the umbrella, the rain tapered off to a fine mist again.

Leah, lanky and fluid in her movements, has very long, straight midnight hair she wears in a loose braid. Her heritage is evident in her coloring and her features, complemented by a faded pair of jeans and a loose black tee. Definitely nothing butch about her. I can imagine her as a very efficient and caring G.P. at the Reservation's clinic. And a good friend to Edward.

Alice the sprite is aptly named. If Leah's hair color is midnight, Alice's shade is oil slick, with wisps that float around her head as she hops around excitedly. She is dressed rather oddly in a faded peach smock that I guess must be her version of Northwest chic. I notice she is smiling widely and following every movement and gesture the taller woman makes, clearly enthralled at seeing her wife so happy. Edward is rather pointedly ignoring her.

"Jasper, come on," Edward impatiently motions to me, standing by the rental, to join them. Head down, I trudge over the uneven yard to the waiting group. When I reach the three, I find Alice staring at me and Leah with arms held wide for a hug.

"I've heard so many good things about you, dear Jasper," she says, as she envelops me in her warm embrace, almost as tall as I am. I don't much like being squished up against a woman's boobs, but Leah is flat-chested, and I'm at ease with the hug. Alice has a more feminine figure, noticeable even in the gunny-sack outfit she is wearing, and we do a polite hug that barely has us touching.

I turn back to Leah to see she has wrapped her arms around Edward's waist and he is leaning into her, their faces inches apart, talking animatedly. It's a comfortable closeness, especially as his arm is resting on her shoulder. An irrational surge of jealousy assaults me, and I strike up a conversation with Alice to divert my speculative thoughts. Edward seems oblivious to my reaction, barely noticing me as the two of them troop into the house, leaving me alone with Alice on the lawn. She gives me a knowing look, pats my arm as if to say, "See what I put up with?" and asks if she can help with bags. I'm twice her size, and shoot her a look.

"Have it your way, boyfriend." When she observes my scowl deepen, she chortles with glee.

"It's always like this when they get together, Jasper. I'm the third wheel. But now, at last, I have a companion in my exile. Such a pretty one, too." She pauses before adding, "Edward hasn't ever brought anyone to meet us. You must have special talents." The smirk I see on her face is a friendly one, so I relax my guard a little, and head back to our rental car.

"Since you followed me out here, Alice, will you carry the presents we brought from home? I can manage everything else. Oh, and take these flowers," I say, handing her a bouquet of pink roses. "Edward picked them up at Sea-Tac for Leah and has forgotten to give them to her."

"Done and done."

For the first time, I wonder about the flowers and their significance.

Inside their house, Alice is once again my erstwhile hostess, checking I have everything we will need for a pleasant stay with them. I hear Edward's deep voice drifting in from the back yard as I unpack clothes and fill drawers for our three-day stay, Alice chatting away on the periphery of my activity. I'm relieved to see we have a queen-size bed, and our room is very cozy, with an attached bath.

"So how long have you and Edward been living together, Jasper?"

"A little more than a month. We've been dating for two months. Spent every day with him since our first lunch date." I smile self-consciously; even my mama doesn't know that detail.

"Can I get you a Diet Coke, or maybe some apple juice? You can go on out to the back porch with Leah and Edward. I'll bring you out your drink."

I decide with that comment that Alice likes me, and oddly enough, I'm drawn to her as well.

"Let's give them time to catch-up; I don't care to listen in on their shop talk. I'll sit with you for awhile."

Taking my arm, she nods in agreement, curling her hand around my elbow and steering me towards the kitchen. It's compact, but still very welcoming, just as I've found Alice to be.

She pours Coke over ice in Scooby-doo figure glasses for both of us, and suggests we walk outside to enjoy the views from their front yard. Their house is situated on a little knoll. I can see further to the horizon than I realized, even with the clouds. Alice tells me she and Leah usually drag chairs from the back when the weather is nice and enjoy watching their neighbors.

I know she is alone several days each week and ask how she copes with it, if it bothers her much.

"No. Sometimes I do feel as if a part of me is missing, but I accept that Leah has a dual purpose in working at the Clinic. Her work is so important, and it nourishes both her heart and her soul. I'm busy teaching music history and theory to groups of high school students at two schools during the days. Nights, I give private lessons on a piano you haven't seen in the third bedroom, so it's a good arrangement for us. When we are together, we have nothing to do but relax and be with each other."

"How long have you been married?" I'm curious about their relationship that works in spite of the travel arrangements.

"A decade this year. Doesn't that make us sound old?"

I glance up in amusement as Alice launches from her chair and begins to twirl like a child in denial on the grass. She starts to spin, her faded smock billowing around her, laughter bubbling up in her throat as she beckons me to join her.

'Why not?' I think, and flinging out my arms, try to spin as fast as she is moving. Laughing and shouting like ten-year-olds, Alice starts to sway first, then falters, and screaming for help, loses her balance, takes a few steps, and falls to the uneven thick green carpet. I try to stop gracefully, but the world is still moving, and with a shout, I tumble down beside her, face first, ungainly to the end.

"Sheez! That felt good. Even if I'm ready to retch. Let's lie still for a minute." Alice is giggling and her joy is infectious. I'm chuckling and rolling onto my back in the damp grass, clutching my stomach and kneading my fingers over the muscles. If she pukes, I won't be able to prevent myself from joining her.

"What a pal you'd make if you lived nearby," she finally offers, both of us calmer and gazing up at the curling white clouds in the gray sky as a few drops begin to mark our clothes and faces.

"I feel like we already are, Alice. When my stomach stops churning, I'll show you some simple Tae Kwan Do moves. Have you ever done any mediation?"

"Only every morning for about twenty minutes. We can roll out mats tomorrow in the music room. But show me the Tae moves now, and then I'd like to see your forms," she offers shyly.

I'm pleased that she knows a little about Tae Kwan Do, and we fall into an easy conversation as we both work with students around the same ages and give private lessons to adults. The rain never develops and eventually, I take her hand and pull us both to our feet. She removes the scarf that is looped around her neck and belts it around her waist, the billowy smock transformed into a form fitting tunic. Seeing her shape reminds me again that she's a girl, not one of my boys. I'll have to be more physically aware of her differences.

"These are good beginner positions that help center you, Alice. I'll show you five of these to begin. Let's start with a bow to show respect. Hands and feet together, tilt forward at a forty-five degree angle, looking up at me." She performs the bow in my direction without being prompted. We are smiling at each other, and I'm having fun with this woman.

"First position. Follow my movements. These positions show your readiness for instruction. Spread your feet slightly, and fold your arms behind you, clasping your wrist at the small of your back, and make a fist. You are showing you are confident and alert." Alice is a good pupil.

Second position now. Snap your hands and feet together, arms along your sides, heels touching. Okay, go back to First position and now move smartly into Second position."

I don't need to prompt Alice to pay attention. I wish all my new pupils showed her concentration.

"Third position. Step out to your left, circle your arms in front of you, fists at belt level, and then snap them out in front, shoulders nice and straight." Alice practices this a few times, then moves through the three positions she has learned, perfecting the flow with each iteration.

She may not be a fashionista, but she makes an excellent listener.

"Now, Fourth position. Watch carefully as I step out with my left knee, back straight, bringing my knife hands forward to rest on my kneecap, eyes always focused on me." I demonstrate the smooth movement of the listening position and Alice mimics me, once again running through the sequence until she can perform it effortlessly without a wobble at the end.

Just as I begin demonstrating the Fifth, or sitting position, I hear Edward's voice from over my shoulder. Alice also breaks my gaze and begins to move. I bow to her, thank her formally, and then turn around to watch Edward descend the two steps from the front door holding hands again with Leah.

My good mood evaporates, and Alice seems to understand without seeing my face. "Leah," she calls, "Jasper has been showing me martial arts positions." She holds out her hand, and Leah lets go of Edward to stand close to Alice, complimenting her. They had been watching us for a few minutes from the door, neither of us noticing them in our focus on Alice's training.

Edward moves up behind me, wrapping an arm around my waist as he covers my hand in his. "Missed you," he mouths soothingly into my hair, lightly kissing the back of my head.

We didn't have time to make love last night, and were already late this morning for our flight; my cock springs to attention. It feels like we are the only two on the planet when Edward holds me like this, and I want more from him than hugs.

Looking at Alice for approval, I suggest we all catch some down time before we re-assemble for dinner. Alice laughs at us, a sweet trilling sound, and my affection for her grows.

"Leah, you've been monopolizing Edward, and they are like we were at the beginning."

Leah gives Edward a wide grin and making a shooing motion with her hands, tells us to rest before we get ready for dinner. They are taking us to the Ballard Locks later to watch the boats be moved between Puget Sound and Ship Canal. Later, the four of us will find a restaurant for fresh seafood.

"Meanwhile, Alice and I are making a run to the liquor store. We'll be gone an hour or so." I squeeze Edward's hand, stilling his body as I can sense he feels obligated to offer to go with them.

"We'll see you when you get back, Alice," I break-in before he can ruin it. "Maybe we'll clean-up before we go out while you are gone."

Alice nods and walks back in with us to retrieve someone's purse. We listen as the sounds of Leah's car grow fainter, and then Edward and I are alone in their house. I can't help thinking we can be as loud as we wish; there are no neighbors sharing a wall to hear our wails and moans.

"Nice work, baby. Run off my friend so we can have the use of her house for loud, noisy sex." But he's hiding a smile, and motions to me to jump into his arms and wrap my legs around him.

"I'm crazy like that, Ed. Are you carrying me into the shower, or just as far as the bed?" I ask as he kicks the bedroom door closed behind us.

"Shower."

"Aren't we taking off clothes first?"

"No."

I struggle a little, but we both know it's an act because I have to help him open the shower door after we kick off our shoes. Edward wastes no time in turning on the faucets full-blast, and in seconds, our clothes are drenched and dripping from the lukewarm spray. He lets me down carefully, and I pull him into a hungry kiss that leaves no doubt what I want.

Just as I drop to my knees to unbutton his jeans, he somehow manages to tilt me upside down by snaking his arms beneath my rib cage and rocking my hips back towards his chest. Laughing, I give up as Ed begins thoroughly soaping my denim-covered ass with the scented bar left out for us, hips swaying and singing loudly:

I won't let you down;

I will not give you up;

Got to have some faith,

Jasper's the one good thing that I've got!

…

Take back your singing in the rain,

I just hope you know

Sometimes Jasper's clothes do not make the man.

After a few more belted stanzas, punctuated with some well-placed smacks when he gets to the "Freedom" chorus, I finally pull a handstand and break free of his grasp. Right side up again, I unzip my soapy Levi's and step nimbly out of my briefs and the heavy material as it pools around my ankles. It's time to shove a rapacious boyfriend back against the shower stall walls, and ask, "Now what, Ed-stein?"

"What?" He barely registers my comment, his focus not on my mouth one bit, his fingertips ghosting over the fine, curly hairs framing my dick before he makes the big plunge lower.

"Where are we going to hang our clothes out to dry, genius? On their outdoor furniture? It's drizzling again."

"I'm about to fuck you silly, and you're giving me the weather report? It's Seattle—think rain."

He's right, so I forget about drying off, just finish unbuttoning my clinging shirt and roll it as sensuously as possible off my shoulders and down my arms. Edward is watching my moves and breathing heavily from his earlier exertions, but his clothes are off and on the shower floor before I finish the slow-motion striptease.

I open the shower door, and walking backwards, end up dripping all over the uneven Saltillo tile floor, just out of his reach. He advances slowly, and I move back even further into the bedroom, tracking wet footprints on their carpet.

"I want to lick you dry, Jasper." His eyes are zeroed-in on my crotch.

"You can try, but you've a lot of skin to cover. I'm a big boy," and I demonstrate by stroking my erection a few times.

He growls softly, grabs a towel off the rack, and motions to the bedspread before lobbing it at my head. I deftly catch the flying missile and incautiously bending back over the bed, flip over quickly to try to protect the spread. But I'm not fast enough, and the sound of Edward moving through the air behind me whooshes past my ears before his body takes me down. Damn!

"I want to fuck you right now. Condom?" he asks, as he molds his groin into my ass, his intentions clear.

"Underneath the pillow with the lube," I groan softly as his palm fits around my cock, the head of his own digging a heated trench in my butt muscle before lodging between my cheeks.

"I was envisioning us doing this while I was talking shop with Leah on the back porch." His words ease a small edge I'd been ignoring. Covering me with his body, he slowly licks the moisture droplets from the back of my neck, planting soft, wet kisses as he makes good on his earlier promise. Emboldened, I propel my hips repeatedly back against the steady press of his thighs, keeping my shoulders down.

"Fuck, love it when you do that to me, Jasper. But turn over; I want to be able kiss away your tears when you cum for me."

When I twist back to face him, he roughly catches my ankles, spreading both of my legs wide to expose me to his appreciative murmurs. "Put the condom on me," he finally orders, eyes dark, desire coloring his voice. He watches me fumble with the circlet before my shaking fingers manage to roll it down his jutting length. He squirts some lube on his fingers, and coating my opening, whispers he just wants to push inside, no prep. "Do it," I urge him, whimpering at the sensations begat by his thumb flicking possessively over the sensitive skin behind my balls.

"You're butt is so beautiful, baby, so smooth and pale," he praises me, his hands caressing up and down the backs of my thighs to soothe me before he begins.

My legs fall open to the sides now in total abandon. He grunts with mingled pain and pleasure as he pinches the end of his cock before shoving the fleshy tip upward into me, the intimate invasion both harsh and exquisite as I gasp incoherently, "Stop, no, Edward…more."

"Jasper, oh, god, yeah that's good," he says, easing onto my chest to search out my mouth, nibbling hungrily over my lips. One hand wraps around my throat as he gently rocks his hips forward. Emotions play over his face too quickly for me to follow, and my vision narrows to his heavily lashed lids, eyes half-closed as he concentrates on the feel of me slowly accepting him.

Not until his sac rests snugly against my ass does Edward stop, tilting his pelvis up before he settles into the deep, measured thrusts of his lovemaking. His large, warm hands fit beneath the bend of my knees now, eyes fixed on me, mouth wide as his tongue lovingly tangles with mine. The torque of his hips is satisfying in its intensity; feeling him pull out and sink back in fuels the inferno building between us.

Needing to feel more of him, I rise up to meet his strokes, one hand on his thigh, desperately pulling him into me. He moans, and reaches back underneath us to cup my ass cheek, fingers splayed, gripping me tightly. Each thrust now fills me, and when I feel him close up the distance between us, and the short, frantic stabbing that signals he's ready to come, I relax my legs down along his, wanting to hold all of him. The sensation of his penis inside me, brushing against me quickly dissolves all thought as successive spikes of pleasure ripple up my spine.

"Edward, please," I plead against his mouth in warning as we writhe against each other; and in the hot, frenzied pace of our lovemaking, his belly grinding hard against my cock is all the friction I need. When he feels me jerking my release, it's too much for him. He loses his control and we both fall over the edge, ecstasy replete as he blows his load, and I shoot cum all over my stomach and him. It's an epic explosion and surrender, both of us in tune with the other's rhythms, succumbing to the delicate torture and pounding pleasure of a skilled Top making love to his willing partner.

When he's forced to move off of me, he rolls to his side, plucks the condom from his softening penis, and slinging an arm over my stomach, mumbles he really needs that nap. I so agree.

Sweaty and sticky though we are, neither one of us can summon the energy to leave the bed to retrieve a washcloth. Ed curls his legs up and reaches back for me to spoon him. I move in behind him, the air heavy and cool with the moisture from the outside thunderstorm. His light snoring eventually drowns out even the sound of the rain pelting against the windows.

Present Day:

Edward still isn't in bed when I awaken around midnight and wearily walk out of our bedroom to find him sitting at his desk, eyes closed.

"Edward, are you sleeping?" At the shake of his head, I laugh quietly, and urge him to come to bed with me.

"I'm done writing for tonight, babe. Can you undress me, please?" Moving up behind him, I tenderly remove his soiled shirt and start kneading the tense muscles in his back. It's late and I'd like to forget it, but his comment reminds me there's something I wanted to ask him earlier. "I've got a question, doc."

His eyes flip open as he turns back to stare at me. "Something simple, I hope. Muscle contractions, atypical drug reactions, and elapsed times are not topics I can bear thinking about for at least another twelve hours."

"Well, sort of a gay question, I guess."

"A gay doc question? I'm so tired, I can't even guess if I strung that sentence together in the proper sequence or not. Or did you mean a gay question for this doc? Which, Jasper?"

"Is cross-dressing always a sign of being gay?"

"Did I miss your new frock in our closet, baby?"

"No, precious, one of my students. I caught sight of him when I was coming out of Isabella Swan's office after my appointment."

He winces when I remind him of our earlier conversation, but is willing to wait for me to tell him more. It's another reason I love him. "Who was it?" he wants to know.

"His make-up and clothes were very natural. My eye was drawn to him because the 'girl' was so tall. I'm sure it was my best pupil, Jacob Swan."

"Charlie and Renee's son? Did he see you?"

"Maybe. He was at the end of the block and turned away when he noticed me walking toward him."

"Might not have been him; Isabella is an ex-in-law. It would be unorthodox for her to be seeing him professionally. And no, it's not definitive. Maybe he's going through something difficult or just likes wearing the clothes. He could go either way."

"Should I mention it to him? I've thought he was having some trouble. He's so gentle, Edward."

"Let me think about it, Jasper. It's a complicated issue, and you could be wrong about it being Jacob. If he's seeing Swan, then it's best if you say nothing."

I feel slightly off-balance; it's very unlike Edward to not have the answer on any given subject.

Stepping back from his chair as my partner stands and stretches before closing down his laptop and killing the lights, I find I'm hoping Edward will decide what I should do. I prefer to maintain some distance from my students, but Jacob's a teenager and my unacknowledged favorite. If there's anything I can do for him, I want to help. However, Edward is correct: my hands are tied until Jacob comes to me.

A/N: Thanks for reading, alerting, etc. There's more to come from the Seattle trip. M.