Thank you all who commented and chose to follow the story.
And of course, thank you, Lou and Sally.
Chapter 2
"Good evening, gentlemen," Carlisle started, even before the wheelchair was fully drawn into the house. "It's so wonderful to see you all together. How's married life, Jasper, Emmett?" He examined his hosts, sharp eyes focusing on their expressions. "I can see, you're still happy," he went on, not waiting for an answer. "And how's our dear boy, then?"
That examination took longer. He took in Edward's exquisite looks. Compared to his subject's outfit, the hosts' jeans and sweatshirts looked too casual. But that was how it was. The married couple lived ordinary lives, while Edward had gotten himself upscale and sophisticated. All of them knew he was in a strangely open relationship with someone very rich—richer than Carlisle—someone dominant, important, and very, very secret. Good thing was, the openness of his relationship allowed him this visit, for which he'd traveled several hundred miles, got himself a single hotel room for unlimited time, and was free to do whatever he liked in the strange city.
As far as Carlisle was concerned, he wished Edward all the best. He missed his boy terribly, but life was just that, not listening to what anyone's heart desired, never playing out exactly as planned. Orchestrating other people's lives was in the past; now he just coped with the hand he was dealt.
"I'm fine, sir."
Carlisle was pleased to hear that Edward hadn't abandoned his usual way of addressing him. There was something he wasn't pleased with, though, and that was the bitterness in Edward's tone.
"You're absolutely not allowed to pity me," Carlisle commanded. "All of you. I am not fully incapacitated." He banged a fist against his chair's armrest. "Let's eat."
Jasper shrugged and helped Rosalie steer the wheelchair near the table.
He secretly stroked Emmett's butt and stopped his hand at his lower back. Shut up, he mouthed as Emmett opened and closed his mouth, deciding to let it go for once. They sat, and Jasper handed the salad bowl to Carlisle. Rosalie grabbed it midair instead and started serving herself first, the doctor second.
"Who wants a drink?" Edward asked casually.
"Oh, perfect!" Rosalie suddenly rose to her feet. "Let's just sit, eat, and drink, and pretend there's nothing wrong about this situation."
All heads turned her way.
She just stood there and trembled slightly. Like in slow motion, the bowl slipped out of her hands and fell, breaking into hundreds of shards, cabbages and dill scattered all over the tiled floor.
"No, just pretend Edward didn't ever leave? Like he never broke Doctor Cullen's heart?" She shook her head. "I'm not going to participate in this charade."
"Now, now, Rose," Carlisle interjected. "Calm down. It's not his fault."
But she turned on her heels and left without another word, leaving them open-mouthed and silent for quite a while.
"She's being unreasonably bitter; please excuse her," Carlisle finally spoke. "But I can never get a more devoted housekeeper and companion. She'll be all right. Let's eat. Really. I'm starving."
Emmett cleaned the mess. Jasper served dinner. Edward and Carlisle didn't look at each other while their dishes were filled with roast, corn, and peas. A bit later, the four of them started eating and conversation rotated about silly things, like weather, sports, and politics. Carlisle picked at his salad and turned his head to flash a momentous smirk at Jasper.
It was much later when Emmett burst out. "Shit!" He interrupted Jasper just when his husband was claiming his bets on his favorite Texas football team. "Shut up about the Broncos, babe. Let's handle this somehow."
Jasper was startled at first but it took him only a moment to gain his composure. He stood upright and raised his right hand, thumb and forefinger in mock imitation of a gun, pointing at the ceiling first and with an arch, shooting at the living area.
"There," he stated. "I've got a movie set up for y'all."
The others talked at once, animatedly, trying to guess what they were going to watch. Carlisle steered his chair all by himself. Everybody arranged in front of the screen, Jasper clicked a remote, and the scene unveiled.
It was Edward's bedroom on Isle Esme. The island where they'd spent more than two years of their lives.
Carlisle, we hope you don't mind a little play. It was screen-Emmett talking, and they all knew what it was. The footage of their first Halloween together, long forgotten. Carlisle, you look delicious. There they were, the doctor and Emmett in their non-Greek and non-Thracian uniforms, and Jasper and Edward in black suits and crisp white shirts. He's ready. A blindfold was removed. Let's begin, shall we, gents.
The spreader bar. The feather. The butt-plug-horsetail.
Nakedness, nipples, balls, cocks.
Suction.
Sweating.
Emptying.
Delirium.
Jasper clicked the remote again, and the screen went still. There were four erections in the room. They looked at each other in silence and they all knew.
"So." Emmett spoke and ended it there. He adjusted the front of his trousers not feeling weird about it at all. Those were the people he loved most on the planet, after all.
"Where did that buttafuoria* come from, back then? I never asked." Carlisle was rubbing sweaty palms together. It wasn't a common occurrence for him to sweat. That spoke volumes to everybody present in the room.
"The guy with the chopper, remember? The one who brought the food and supplies? He was very, very friendly. Even more so after Jasper gave him the best blowjob of his life on the beach while you gave Edward a swimming lesson." Emmett chuckled. "Those were great times."
"Too bad they're long gone now." Carlisle sighed. "Long gone." His look sauntered between the blank screen and Edward. Another sigh followed. "But I have a suggestion for you. Let's never forget Isle Esme."
"Never," Edward affirmed.
"Never," Emmett and Jasper spoke together a second later.
Emmett stood up and neared Carlisle's chair. He leaned forward and took his time with a lingering kiss on the doctor's temple, then spoke softly into his ear.
"Can't we just imagine we're back there again for a while?"
Carlisle nodded and gestured for Edward. Arousal, expectation, and hope made his eyes glint.
"Will you humor me tonight, my boy? Just one more time? Come sit by me."
Edward didn't hesitate. He stood and walked straight to Carlisle, then sat on the floor near the wheelchair. His head dropped on the doctor's knee, face buried in the fine fabric of his trousers.
"Do you forgive me?" he whispered.
"What's to forgive? You heard what I told Rose; it wasn't your fault."
Carlisle's fingers ruffled Edward's messy hair and rested there, tangled with the strands like they belonged there.
"Do you remember the Copper Swirl, Jasper?" Emmett's voice boomed somewhere behind the doctor's back.
"Oh, shit. I thought we were getting to that part after the guests left, love," Jasper pointed out instead of answering directly.
"You're not uncomfortable in front of them, are you, Jas?"
"No, not really. Well. Now that I think about it, you should definitely go fetch the Copper Swirl. And, don't forget some lube."
Emmett made a childish skip and left for the bedroom. Carlisle's fingers clenched and pulled at Edward's strands a bit harder.
"Am I allowed to touch you, sir?" Edward asked, his voice raspy.
"You are, dear boy. Oh, God, you are." Carlisle closed his eyes. The tip of his tongue traced his upper lip. His voice had gone to the lower register; it sounded like a purr with a brass timbre. His shoulders squared, chin lifted higher, as he opened his eyes widely and pierced Edward's core with their focus. "Touch me. Now."
*buttafuoria (It.) - props or dummies of objects, used for stage performance
