A/N: Woot. I got through all the updates I wanted to!

Though Esme had been a constant fixture in his life throughout this difficult time, it had been a long while since they'd talked as they used to. It was one of the million things Carlisle felt guilty about. After all, when Edward had lost his Dom, Esme had lost her disciplinarian. Both relationships were important, treasured by both Carlisle and his partners.

Carlisle's relationship with Esme was different than his one with Edward, of course. His addressing her needs was a favor he did for Esme, an addendum to their relationship where it had been the core of his relationship with his husband.

Still, he wished things were different for so many reasons. He worried for Esme's well being, but he also missed the intimacy being post-session brought them. There was something wonderful about the aftermath of a session even without them being lovers. They were closer than most friends because of it, and the conversations they'd had were some of the most meaningful human interactions he'd ever had. It was hard to have barriers with someone when they'd already trusted you with their deepest, most difficult need.

Usually, it was Carlisle caring for her. That was what aftercare was about. This time, it was Esme who took care of him. She made the tea, set it in front of him, and caressed his hair a few times before she sat down, the gesture as tender as she was with her children. He needed so much care these days; it was driving him crazy.

But they weren't there to talk about that. Carlisle leaned forward, cradling his cup of tea in both his hands. He inhaled the rich scent as he searched for the right words.

"I don't think I can do it, Esme," he said with a sigh. "Is that terrible?"

She arched an eyebrow as she sipped her tea. "Why would it be terrible that you don't want Bella to be your baby's biological mother?"

"It's such a beautiful idea. I want to be able to handle it. You and Bella are part of our family, much more than our other friends. It would be a beautiful thing, when we sat down to explain biology to our baby, to be able to tell them they were part of Bella."

"But?"

Carlisle grimaced. "You know, I fell in love with my children the moment I set eyes on them. I knew the odds. I knew Victoria had a chance to get them back. It didn't matter. I saw them, and they were mine.

"That's one of the most maddening parts of this whole thing. I'm sure Victoria has love in her heart for those kids. I saw it. Yet she hurt them. Over and over she hurt them. With her words, and what she let happen to Riley. But she had rights. Because of simple biology, she had every right and every chance. Edward and I had no rights, no chance." The lump in Carlisle's throat rose to choke him, and he trailed off, staring into the green-tinged water of his tea. He took a shaky breath, calming himself.

"Bella says she won't fall in love with our baby, that she won't feel a connection to it. That might be true. But if she does feel a connection, if she does fall in love with our baby…" Carlisle swallowed hard. He felt like an asshole saying these words, and yet, they were exactly what he felt, what he feared. "I don't want her to have any biological ties. If we buy eggs from an anonymous donor, we own those eggs. We own those rights, in essence. It's a shitty way of looking at things, but it's true. No one will be able to take Edward's child away from him, and he'll never take our baby away from me. I know that. I trust that entirely. But I won't lose another child this way, Esme. Not even to joint or partial custody. Even with a contract, she'd have a chance. I don't want anyone else to have a chance. No one but Edward and me."

At the end of his tirade his shoulders slumped. "It's a horrible thing to say, isn't it?"

"Carlisle, even without suffering a loss like you have, the way we have our children is an extremely personal thing. What one parent can handle, what they need, differs per person. There's nothing wrong with that."

"It makes the procedure she has to go through more complicated. More invasive, and she'll need to take drugs."

Esme nodded slowly. "But she was prepared for that eventuality. She's already agreed to that if it's what you want."

"Yes." Carlisle smiled, feeling lighter now that he'd gotten that off his chest. "She's a better friend than I deserve."

"What she's doing for you is incredible, but you deserve the world, my dear."

Again Carlisle smiled. He sipped his tea, pondering his next words. "Can I admit something else?"

"To me? Anything."

"I'm glad I can't have biological children. Is that odd?"

Esme tilted her head, studying him. "It's strange, but that's not a bad thing. It's just an odd thing to be glad about. You can be at peace with the idea, but glad?"

"I suppose I'm glad there can't be an argument about it—one less decision to make." He lifted his head to look at her. "I'm glad I'll know who fathered this child. It wasn't a necessity for me to love a child, but to be able to find Edward's features in them? Wondering if they'll have his eyes, that unruly hair."

"Oh, there's that smile I love," Esme said with a chuckle. "I remember that smile. That look that came over your face when you first told me about him. When I knew you were already in love with him and you refused to admit it."

Her expression turned more serious. "I'm only curious. I'm not trying to chastise you. I think I understand what you're saying. Going about things this way as opposed to adoption has perks. It's a wonderful thing to see the man you love in the face of your child. I can understand that. I love that my son has his father's nose and my daughter has his exact laugh. I love finding things like that about my children, but I also love seeing myself in them. Haven't you ever thought it might be nice to see yourself, your reflection in your children?"

Carlisle was quiet for a long moment. This very question had come up during his last therapy session, actually, in much the same context. He knew how it would sound. Alistair had already talked him in circles about it, so he didn't have to search for words to explain a simple truth. "I don't think I've ever loved myself that much."

The sorrow in her eyes was instant. Her voice was heavy with emotion when she spoke. "How many times have you had to teach me how to love myself? You won't let anyone say anything bad about themselves. Do you really have that little self-worth?" She sat up a little straighter, her expression turning almost to a glare. "Maybe you're the one who needs a hairbrush to your backside for not treating yourself well."

He ducked his head, smiling slightly at the sentiment. "That was the basis of my entire relationship with Eleazar, if you recall." He sighed. "And you're right. That was why I was never able to fully let go. I don't have it in me, Esme. To accept that kind of love and care. I know," he said, stopping her before she could protest. He gave a wry laugh. "What do you think my therapy sessions look like?"

At that, Esme smiled back. "As many years as I've spent in therapy, I don't have to guess. It's a very different kind of pain in the ass."

"Yes." He rubbed his hand over his eyes. "I almost always leave that place with a headache." He pressed his lips together, considering. "It's not that I didn't realize it before. Obviously, especially when my father and I parted ways, I understood what was going on in my head. I understood that I did blame myself for my mother's death, and how could anyone feel good about themselves with that kind of black mark on their soul?

"But I never felt like I had low self-esteem. I found value in everything else in my life. I'm a good surgeon. A good teacher." He huffed. "I was a good Dom. I am fully aware of how much I've given Edward. I…"

He struggled, trying to find the right words. He'd been trying to find the right words for weeks now. "I came across something someone else said, and it fit. It fit more than I realized. They said, 'You cannot love someone else until you love yourself. Bullshit. I have never loved myself. But you, oh god, I loved you so much, I forgot what hating myself felt like.' I think…" He closed his eyes, breathed in deep, and tried again. "I think that's why I threw myself into my work when I was a younger man. Why I forgot to have a dream outside of that, forgot to want something else like a husband and a family. I gave myself to my patients and the hospital to forget my own lack of self-worth.

"I did work through some of my issues in my thirties. I found a lot of peace, but you know, I think, by then, I didn't know how to love myself. I think all the things my father put in my head about how useless I was, how horrible...they've just always been a part of me. But Edward..."

Tears stung Carlisle's eyes, and he had to press his palm against his mouth to keep control of his emotions. "Edward put me on a pedestal. He is such an incredible man, and yet he was looking up at me. When he told me he loved me, that I was worthy of love, I had no choice but to believe him. He knows me, knows who I am, heart and soul, and he loves me. Because he loved me so well, I started to think maybe I could have these things I never dared let myself dream about. To have him. To have a family. To be selfish."

"It's not selfish to want to be happy, Carlisle," Esme said, her voice shaky.

"Yes. I know." Again, he swallowed hard. "But when Edward loved me so well, I believed it."

"And when some stupid asshole called you a monster, confirming all the vile things your father drilled into you, you stopped believing," Esme said. "Which is why a part of you believes that Edward will come to his senses, and you'll lose him too."

Carlisle huffed. "See, I don't have to pay Alistair. I can come see you."

She sipped her tea, her expression momentarily far away. "And it took a crisis for all of this to come to a head."

"Story of my life in a way. Most of my patients wouldn't need my services if they practiced preventative care. I suppose I'm no different."

"No." Esme stood up and went to his side of the table. She took his face between her hands and tilted his head up to look her in her eyes. "If I could climb into that head of yours and mother the parts of you that desperately needed to be mothered, I would. But since I can't, I'm going to tell you this. I love you, Carlisle Cullen. You are the best friend I have ever had. My life, my beautiful life, would be dust in the wind if you hadn't been there for me. I love you. Your husband believes the sun rises and sets specifically for you. You are good enough, smart enough, and gosh-darn it, people like you."

Carlisle laughed. He slid his arms up around Esme and rested his head against her breast. She stroked the back of his hair, simply holding him.

"You know what the ironic thing is?" she asked after a moment. "If it were any one of us in your place, you would know exactly what to do. You're so good at that. Perfect compassion. Perfect selflessness—which is doubly ironic since you think it's selfish to want a husband and children."

"I know. I'm a perfect nitwit. I am working on it you know."

"I do know." She kissed the top of his head. "And Edward does too. I promise."

"I know."

~0~

Edward would never know what prompted it.

He'd come home to an empty house one Saturday, but that was expected. Carlisle was doing a guest lecture spot at one of the universities. Edward had intended to get some work done around the house but ended up falling in bed, curled up on his side for an impromptu nap.

He woke to the pleasant sensation of Carlisle's fingers skimming down his arms. He let his eyelids flutter open, and found his husband leaning over him. He smiled—a sleepy, happy smile—but before he could greet him, Carlisle kissed him.

With a contented sigh, Edward cupped the back of Carlisle's head, threading his fingers through his hair. This was no quick kiss. It was sweet at first, coaxing Edward further into wakefulness. He made a little whining noise, an approximation of a pout, resisting the temptation. He wanted to stay in this happy, dreamy head space. He wanted Carlisle to join him, to wrap him up in his arms and lull him back to sleep with soft kisses.

Carlisle had other ideas. He rested his hand at Edward's hip, flexing his fingers along his side. Edward woke a little more when Carlisle's tongue swept along the line of his lips. Edward opened automatically to him and found himself caught up in a slow, smoldering type of kiss. Carlisle's tongue teased his, and Edward found himself raising his head from his pillow to chase the kiss.

Edward whimpered and splayed his hand wide over Carlisle's chest, feeling him. Heat had begun to build in him, like he'd transitioned from sleepy dreams into steamy fantasy. Either way, his brain was muddled, but in this state, he was down to his base desires. His moan was wanton, and his hips thrust, seeking friction.

He got it and then some. Carlisle straddled him, not breaking his kiss as he did so. Edward widened his legs in reflex, needing him closer. His hands were at Carlisle's back, under his shirt. He needed more hot skin. He raised his hips.

Edward broke their kiss with a gasp. He was breathless, panting as he stared back at Carlisle. He shifted, bucking up against his husband again, just checking. "Oh," he said.

"Shhh," Carlisle said, ducking his head to kiss Edward again.

Edward laughed but kissed him back, enthusiasm mingling with his desire. "Are you afraid I'm going to scare it away?" he rumbled against his lips.

Carlisle scoffed. "Unlikely," he muttered, sounding somewhat disgruntled. "It's got medical assistance."

"Shhh," Edward said, cupping his cheek and kissing him as a distraction. He understood why Carlisle had been reluctant to use the little blue pill, and he hadn't pushed. But oh god, how he'd wanted to. He missed this so much.

As they kissed, Edward worked his hand between them. He cupped Carlisle between his legs, his touch tentative at first—all those months ago, Carlisle had pulled away, after all.

Not this time. This time he bucked into Edward's hand, hot and hard and eager. The tiny whine Carlisle made at the back of his throat drove Edward out of his mind. No. He was going to let go of worry.

He hitched his leg up over Carlisle's hip, tangling their legs, driving his husband closer. Just as quickly, he pulled back with a ragged moan. "Clothes," he said, pulling at Carlisle's shirt.

"What?" Carlisle caught his hand and held it against his chest.

Edward pulled his hand back and pushed forward, sitting up. "Your clothes. I need them off. I need…"

He looked up, looked into his husband's pretty eyes and fell in love all over again. He swallowed hard and kissed him sweetly. "I need you," he whispered.

"Baby," Carlisle murmured the word against the corner of his mouth. "I need you. I love you."

Edward turned his head to catch his kiss. His hands moved to Carlisle's shirt, and began to unbutton between kisses. They parted long enough for Carlisle to pull Edward's shirt up and off. They came together again. Carlisle shrugged his shoulders to help Edward take off his shirt. When he had pulled his arms from his sleeves, he took Edward's face between his hands and kissed him, coaxing his mouth open.

With a moan, Edward lay back, pulling Carlisle down with him. He reached between then, unbuttoning and pulling until he had Carlisle's glorious ass and, more importantly, his cock available. He stroked, marveling as though he were a virgin who'd never had his hands on a cock before. It was thick and hot in his hands, and for a moment, Edward had no idea what he wanted most. He wanted it in his mouth, to listen to Carlisle's moans and whines and pleas.

But no. No, that wasn't what he needed.

"I want you inside me," he said. "Please."

He felt Carlisle's cock jump in his hands at his words and saw him close his eyes, heard his groan. "Oh, hell."

In another minute, they were both nude. Carlisle's fingers, slick with lube, worked Edward's tight hole, making him ready as he leaned in to steal kiss, after kiss, after kiss.

"You know I won't last long," Carlisle said, his breath landing hot in Edward's mouth.

Edward laughed, running his hands down Carlisle's back and cupping his ass. He pecked his lips and pulled back to look in his eyes. "We have the rest of our lives."

Carlisle's smile was wide and adoring. He leaned in for a long, slow kiss.

"Take me," Edward said between tiny kisses.

"Not yet."

"Now. Please." He nipped at Carlisle's lower lip. "I'll be fine. I want you now."

Carlisle didn't have to be told again. He swallowed the space between them, lining up their bodies. He pushed inside Edward in a long, smooth stroke.

Edward let out a shuddering moan. There was a stretch and burn, but it the sweetest kind of ache.

"Are you okay, baby boy?"

"God, yes." Edward reached a shaky hand up to caress Carlisle's cheek. "So good. Come home."

Then it was Carlisle who shuddered. He drew back slightly and pushed again, burying himself deep right where he belonged.

They made love, holding hands as they moved together. Carlisle was right. It didn't last long, but it was long enough. Long enough for Edward to reach that perfect high. That perfect moment of being one with another, his other, his one person in the world. Pleasure rocked through him. The look in Carlisle's eyes, the feel of him inside him, the sound and smell, and taste of them together—he'd been right. Home. Peace.

Ecstasy.

Beautiful oblivion.

And when the stars faded and he came back to Earth, Carlisle was sprawled on top of him, his head on his shoulder. It was minutes before he raised his head off Edward's damp skin. Edward giggled.

"What is it, loon?" Carlisle asked, brushing his thumb over Edward's bottom lip.

"I was thinking that Carlisle Cullen's post-coital, blissed out face is a sight to see." Edward smiled, kissing the pad of Carlisle's thumb. "And I missed it. I missed you."

With a groan, Carlisle rolled to the side. Edward rolled with him, curling into his welcoming arms.

They lay like that for long minutes not saying word, just staring at one another, tracing each other's features with fingers that turned damp from kisses. Basking.

A/N: :)