All I Want to Hear
Ok, I know I know - I've been AWOL for too long. I will continue to keep plugging away when I can because these boys have a few things to sort out before this story wraps. I hope to update again soon.
Beta'd by mxpi1970.
As always, I own nothing. Stephenie Meyer owns all.
Meanwhile, back in the New York...
Chapter 11
Edward holds Carlisle in his warm, safe embrace, his head waging war on the people responsible for his pain despite knowing that there is nothing he can do about the past. It's over – done. It is time to move forward, to build a new, strong future without fear, without looking back.
When Carlisle is cried out, he lifts his head a fraction, enough to meet Edward's concerned gaze. His own eyes hold a hesitancy in their depths that can only be dispelled with the reassurance of love and trust. Their lips meet in a fleeting kiss, followed by another until Edward hears the rough, indrawn breath signalling understanding. All is forgiven between them in that moment, all can be healed and mended with time and love.
An unspoken affirmation passes between them to never allow another to hurt or part them. From now on they will travel the wild seas of life as a team, anchored together against the storms and currents.
~o.O.o~
"Home tomorrow." Edward's words are a statement, not up for discussion.
Carlisle nods. Edward surveys the apartment.
"How much of this is yours? Furniture, I mean?"
Carlisle shakes his head, a quizzical look furrowing his brow.
"None. Well, the painting over my bed is mine, and then it's just my clothes and books." He exhales hard. "The place came fully furnished. I paid extra so I could just move in. Why do you ask?"
"So a few boxes should do it, plus a mover's truck." Edward speaks his thoughts aloud, planning on wasting no time. "Can you get out of your lease? At short notice, I mean?"
His face is questioning, eyebrows raised and awaiting an answer.
"I can speak to my landlord? If you want me to?"
"Tomorrow?"
Bewilderment evident, Carlisle nods.
"Okay then."
"Then you're coming home with me – for good."
He watches, a little anxious, hoping that his assumption, so clear and obvious to himself, will be what his lover is willing and able to do.
Carlisle's face lights up, his smile one of surprised, unrestrained joy.
"You and me – living together? At your place?"
"Of course at my place. I'm not leaving you here. Time to move forward. You and me."
Carlisle is overjoyed at this demonstration of their commitment to each other. He feels the veil of confusion that fogs his brain shimmer, the sun coming out to dispel the grey mist that has plagued him for so long. He knows it cannot happen tonight, but he realises now that it will dissipate, that the healing has begun with Edward's heartfelt acceptance of his shameful past.
Edward takes his hands in his own.
"Shall we grab a bite to eat? That slice of pizza seems an age ago."
They both smile, the energy in the room flowing and free.
"Can we order in? Is that okay?"
Edward strokes his tear-stained face, the gesture tender and loving.
"Definitely. It's been quite a day. Italian? That food was amazing."
"It always is! I will miss Casa Nonna. How about that – I will miss one thing about the Big Apple."
Edward's smile is slow and seductive.
"We can always come and visit. Anniversaries are always a good excuse. Plus we can stay in a hotel and be waited on. It'd make an interesting change for me."
Carlisle feels lighter than air, lost in his partner's sea-green eyes, riding the wave of love that engulfs and claims him.
"I like the sound of that."
~o.O.o~
The next morning dawns bright, the air fresh with possibilities. Carlisle wakes first, opening his eyes and simultaneously remembering that his life has changed. The light plays across the room, the sun's rays dappling the pale wall with dancing patterns. Edward's breathing is deep and even, his face smooth and peaceful. Carlisle gazes down at him with wonder, his heart glowing. There is much to do today before they return, and he should be rising, yet the need to take in every delicate feature from eyelashes to the cheekbones that slant across his face is too important. He swims in the beauty before him, feeling thankful and blessed.
"You're staring."
The voice, deep and rough with sleep, makes him jump.
"I didn't know you were awake. Sorry."
Edward stretches, the movement luxuriant and feline. "Why are you sorry? You can look - you can more than look. After all, I'm in your bed, all yours to do with as you please."
A shiver caresses Carlisle's skin at the blatant offer. Leaning in, he presses his eager lips to Edward's with a helpless groan.
~o.O.o~
Carlisle walks around his small apartment, home for so long, yet lacking any real emotional attachment. He hears movement in the bathroom, water splashing in the basin with regularity, the rhythmic tap of the razor against the basin after each sweep across his jaw. In a moment of revelation he understands why Edward doesn't fit in here, why he struggled to make the two images mesh: this place, this life, is emotionless and static. Loving Edward is the glowing EXIT sign to this life – the wondrous open road to a new fulfilling future. His apartment now feels stale and claustrophobic. He has locked himself within these walls for safety and they have trapped him, the restraints tightening day by day until someone threw open the doors to his prison and let life, - beautiful, technicolour life - flood back in.
He can't wait to leave here and not look back.
NY is not home; he feels the strong pull to return to Maine, to the calm, peaceful town that promises a future.
His first virgin steps towards a future with Edward.
The morning passes in a blur of phone calls and arrangements. The last one is to his agent to advise him of his new address and to suggest that non-essential meetings be conducted via Skype, with Carlisle only making the trip to New York if needed. To his surprise, his agent agrees to this mutually convenient arrangement. Edward smiles while he packs.
By mid-afternoon, all of Carlisle's belongings are in brown boxes, his clothes packed into his carry-on luggage. It is no surprise that he has few clothes; the few items he possesses are good quality and well looked after, but take up little space in the closet. The only remaining item is the painting above his bed. At the last minute he decides to leave it there. After all, it matches the décor and looks good, but he has no need of it in Maine. It would be completely out of place, a piece of his past.
Edward calls the airline, checking for a later flight to give them enough time to cross NYC and get checked in. They are lucky – there are seats available. Everything is falling into place. Looking out of the apartment window one last time, Carlisle feels as if he may float away if he doesn't concentrate on staying grounded, the blue sky beckoning him onward. He is a kite with the wind in its tail, ready to soar heavenward.
The landlord is stunned when Carlisle hands back his keys and promises the return of his security deposit once the apartment has been inspected. He hardly recognises the man standing before him – animated, exuding energy and vitality – so unlike the quiet young man who moved in five years ago. He asks no questions, merely completes the formalities and wishes him luck for the future. He wonders if he will ever again find such a problem-free tenant.
They sit in the cab, the drive interminably long. Edward's fingers creep across the seat and lace with Carlisle's, a secret display of support. He receives in return a heart-stopping smile, his fingers squeezed in grateful acknowledgement.
Progress.
They watch the city flash past the windows, each ready to leave and both saying a silent farewell to the city that never sleeps.
~o.O.o~
The flight feels longer, the urgency to be back in Maine again making them feel like children eager to see the ocean for the first time. It is early evening when they land in Portland, the air holding a chill. After a short wait at the quiet luggage carousel, Carlisle hefts his bags, his clothes a symbol of his new life, the new road ahead. He entrusts Edward with his laptop case and together they walk toward the exit, their faces lit from within; to the outside world they could be mistaken for honeymooners. The taxi driver helps with their bags, loading the trunk while they slide into the warmth of the back seat. The soft crooning of Elvis spills from the small door-mounted speakers. The driver takes the address and pulls away from the kerbside, smiling into the rear view mirror.
"Good holiday?"
Edward looks at Carlisle, his lips curving upward without his control.
"Glad to be back home," he tells the driver, knowing in that moment he has never said a truer word. He feels a hand on his own in reciprocation.
The drive is short, the evening traffic light. In minutes they are standing on Edward's stoop while he rummages for keys. The door open, they lug the bags inside, dropping them in a heap beside the stairs. After always travelling with a small overnight bag, to see the pile of stuffed bags in an untidy heap makes Carlisle acutely aware of the enormity of this decision. Looking around, he sees the warmth, the comfort of his surroundings, with fresh eyes.
I'm home.
NY seems like a bad dream, the austerity of his life there mocking him, chiding him for taking so long to realise how trapped he has been, how lost until Edward entered his life.
"Welcome home." His love smiles and blushes, suddenly shy, his eyes full of happiness, yet downcast in a demure stance, embarrassed.
Why?
"I'm so happy you're here - properly." His voice is husky, and it is apparent now that Edward is nervous. This is a big deal for him too.
Carlisle is overwhelmed; the lump in his throat makes speech a struggle.
"I'm really here." He marvels anew at the concept, unable to stop his smile blossoming. "I'm home."
Gazing at each other with tender, adoring eyes, the two of them are struck by the notion that they will never have to feel alone again. It feels like the first time when they find each other, hands reaching and stroking, a thumb rasping across a cheek roughened by five o'clock shadow. Breathing deepens when fingers trail down necks, lips part, cheeks flush, both holding back until the moment is near pain. With moans of surrender, their lips meet and all thoughts disconnect, lost in a maelstrom of emotion. Each sharp breath illustrates their desire, a signpost on the journey to the next pained gasp. Pulling apart for a second, Edward takes his lover's hand in a wordless gesture and leads him up the staircase to the room that is now theirs.
Edward's hands, sure and true, unfasten his shirt buttons, his gaze never leaving Carlisle's. The purr of his zipper, the clink of his belt, are sounds both lewd yet honest in this private space. His pants now open, he pushes them down with his underwear and steps free of them, two high spots of pink in his cheeks betraying his shy modesty. He hears his lover's heightened breaths and knows that he will soon be rewarded for his brazenness. Feeling a hand graze his hip, he quivers, his erection hardening further at the fleeting touch.
Seeing Edward reveal himself fuels the craving residing deep inside Carlisle. He allows his eyes to feast, fingers reaching out to touch the pale beauty of that lean body, skating along the hipline. He is torn between watching his own fingers caress this body he adores and wanting to sink into the pools of green that silently plead for more. In a dream, he unfastens his own clothing, loosening and releasing buttons and buckles, his skin burning for the touch of another, for Edward. In moments he stands naked, feeling a momentary lapse in confidence and understanding Edward's nervousness. What they are about to do feels like a commitment, the threshold to a new future – a big step on both their parts. In reality, one small step brings them together in a tight embrace, their hands caressing and grasping, lips and tongues silently declaring their love whilst pressed together, moving together, their breath noisy and hot, drowning in need.
Falling backward, Edward scoots himself onto the mattress, pulling Carlisle down until he is hovering above him, knees and elbows planted, reddened lips just within reach. Straining upward, he claims them, these lips that feel like home, forcing Carlisle down until he can feel his weight on him and the rightness of it. Each breath is dragged from the other and returned, a never-ending cycle of giving and receiving in perfect symmetry. Edward's fingers grasp the wonderful hardness that promises such pleasure, his thumb caressing the proud head already wet with fluid. The gasp in response tells him what he needs to know. He reaches for the drawer, fumbling inside for the condoms and lube. Carlisle sits back and Edward raises his legs, offering himself to his lover. With careful fingers, Carlisle opens and readies him, loving the uninhibited joy he takes in being pleasured, his mewls of frustrated ecstasy. When the moment comes to enter him, he pauses just long enough for Edward to meet his gaze before pushing inside, their mutual euphoria reflected in each other's darkened eyes.
~o.O.o~
They sleep, exhausted and replete, until dawn's early light paints the sky rose-pink. Edward wakes, lifting his head from the pillow to see Carlisle sleeping beside him. With a relieved smile, he watches him sleep, remembering the previous day's sadness and joy.
I will keep you safe. Those storm clouds that have haunted you for so long will fade to clear, bright skies, I promise.
He looks at the clock, remembering that he has to work tonight, and creeps out of bed to make coffee. No time to lie around, not if he wants to sleep again later. At the bottom of the stairs he pauses, smiling again at the haphazard pile of bags that clutter the floor. He helped pack them so he knows what they contain. After coffee he will set to making room in his closet. He makes a pot of the good stuff – today is certainly not the day for mediocre – and scrutinises the book shelves. They were going to be a problem: both men love their books and Edward has no plans to get rid of his collection. He decides on a different tack and measures the free space on the wall; new shelving is definitely the way forward.
With a grin, he pours the coffee and heads upstairs, veering around the bag mountain with the practiced efficiency of a true professional. His love is stirring, seemingly knowing that there is coffee in the offing. Edward places the cup down and sips from his own, watching Carlisle's sleepy smile spread when he sees him.
"You're too far away." His almost petulant pout makes Edward grin all the more.
"I have to work later, so no, I won't be climbing back in there with you. Things to do today. I want to go see Kate and take her her present. Plus, you know, tell her about us."
Carlisle swallows his mouthful of coffee and considers this.
"What do you think she'll say? I don't think she liked me a great deal."
He sounds sad. For the first time in a long time wanting to be heard, wanting to be liked, is important to be him. Edward sits down then, taking in the weight of his words.
"I'll tell her what you're happy with me telling her, no more. I think she'll be impressed with your decision to move here. She worried…" he pauses before continuing, "she worried you wouldn't commit to me, that you'd ultimately hurt me by hiding yourself from me." His gaze is steady, needing Carlisle to see the truth in his words. "She loves me too."
"I know she does. I got warned pretty hard to walk away if I couldn't promise not to hurt you." He smiles a little at the memory. "I hope she starts to accept me. Do you think she will?"
"Let me deal with Kate." Edward drains his cup. "You need to get up, get dressed and come with me. We're going for breakfast."
The café is quiet at the early hour. They find a table and wait for Kate to appear from the kitchen. She spots them and walks over, pulling a pencil and pad from her pocket.
"Morning, boys, what'll it be?"
Edward grins – even Carlisle proffers her a small smile.
"Usual for me, and a coffee." He looks to Carlisle and cocks his head.
Carlisle clears his throat and orders pancakes with bacon, and coffee.
"And can I have the rocket fuel rather than the placebo this time?"
Kate's smile almost touches her ears at his brazen assumption, loving the change already evident in his demeanour.
"Done. Coming up, boys."
Despite Edward's fast head duck, she still manages to ruffle his hair, walking away chuckling.
Edward raises an eyebrow. "'The rocket fuel?' What was that all about?"
With a straight face, Carlisle tries to explain. "She gave me decaf last time. I can't have the same thing happening again today. I have work to do. Plus I feel I need to make my point or she'll keep doing it."
"Not after that, she won't! She was impressed – I can tell. She'll be ruffling your hair before you know it."
Carlisle pats his blond hair, feigning terror, and Edward laughs so hard his eyes are still sparkling when their breakfast arrives. Edward invites Kate to take a seat and she does so, looking from one to the other, waiting for one of them to speak. Of course it is Edward who does, swallowing a mouthful of pancake, watching Carlisle for signs of discomfort.
"So – we have news." He can see Kate's expression, her eagerness to know, but staying silent. "Carlisle and I spent the last couple of days in New York while he met with his publisher." Every part of him aches to take his lover's hand, but he resists. "The upshot is…" Kate's expectant face is comical, "…Carlisle has moved to Maine. As of today we are living together."
Carlisle has stopped eating, his eyes fixed on Edward while he delivers this momentous news. He can hardly breathe, fearing disapproval from Kate and the subsequent sadness it would cause Edward if she has concerns about this development. At that moment all he sees is his lover's flushed and happy face, shining with love and excitement. He turns to Kate, ready to defend their choice, to stand his ground at last, and instead receives an encouraging nod and a warm smile in return.
"Maine got you good, huh?"
Carlisle's fingers reach across the small table and come to rest on Edward's knuckles for a brief moment before retreating. A huge leap forward and so very telling. Feeling overwhelmed, he clears his throat, but is unable to utter more than a whisper.
"Not just Maine."
The heat between them is palpable and undeniable. Kate feels tears prick her eyes and blinks them away before they can be seen. Her doubts are dissipating, the truth of their love hard to deny. The moment is broken when Edward fumbles in his pocket.
"I got you something from New York." He places a small package in front of her with a grin. She opens the wrapping to find a snow globe with the Empire State Building inside. "We went up there and the view is spectacular. It's… uhm… very romantic."
A blush heats his cheeks. He chooses not to mention the incident that had followed it – they have dealt with the whys, and the pain it brought up. Edward has no desire to betray Carlisle's love and trust by retelling his private life story. He has the memory of the Empire State and the momentous decision to move Carlisle to Maine to make a future together. From now on, he wants them to focus on the positives. Let life deal the cards where they may – they have a foundation to build, a strong bedrock to last a lifetime together. His finger caresses Carlisle's hand for a second before withdrawing. He is rewarded with a smile of gratitude before they both resume eating their breakfasts, and Kate has to resist the urge to kiss them both.
~o.O.o~