Hi. Sorry this took 20 days to get out, but.... (enters excuses here). And, um, hey - high five to all of you. I'm enamored by your response to this silly thing. I've gotten a lot of questions about the length (snicker...) of this fic, and it's not going to be a long one. 15-20 chapters, TOPS. I can only torture the boy so long, you know?

Thanks to everyone who reviews, favorites, alerts, or reads in silence. I heart you.

Thanks to Ali, for nothing.

Go read Brown Study by littlesecret84. It's so cute, and she is my favorite.

Disclaimer: I don't own anything recognizable, just the stuff you're reading through your fingers.

In which I never win

Where the fuck am I? There are soft boobs pressed against my chest, and they are swaying to the beat I hear in my ears. There is some sort of drink in my hand, and I am dancing with my hips only, because yeah, the girls like that pelvic action. I can't remember how I got here, or where I'm going, or what my name is.

"Wardo?!"

Oh, right. I'm Wardo. Rather, my dick is Wardo. Well, same thing. Last semester, my roommate walked in on me getting head while wearing nothing but a 'Where's Waldo'-esque sweater, so being the fucking clever guy he is, I was dubbed Wardo. And whenever he wants me to come club hopping with him, he screams 'WHERE'S WARDO?' into the phone whenever I answer.

That's how this night started, with a scream. And because I can't figure out where I am or what I'm doing beyond the fact I am definitely getting my dick wet, I am determined for the night to end with a scream, too.

"Wardo? Dude, what are you doing? You can't do that here, bro. There are rules, and security. HA! Dude! DUDE! Put that back in your – whoa, bro…"

Why can't I take my dick out, Jasper? It's so tight, so confined in my jeans. It just wants to be free, a free… you know, a free willy!

"FREE WILLY?!" I shout, which gets a bunch of shouts from bros all around, toasting each other and fist bumping. My cock is out in my hand, and I'm so drunk, I'm rubbing it all over this girl, and she's loving it.

The next thirty minutes are a blur, but a taxi cab pulls away from the curb and I'm making out with the girl, my hands fisting her tits and she's biting and moaning against my tongue and my cock is back in my pants, but not for long. We make it up the stairs to my door, and I grind against her hot little body for a minute, and then I let myself in, with fistfuls of tits.

Then we're against my couch, and something tells me I shouldn't be doing this, but I can't remember why. All I can feel is tiny hands against my jeans, and a bubblegum tongue in my mouth, and I haven't gotten laid for weeks, so who am I to stop this?

"Edward?"

My brain hears a voice I know, but can't place. It's so sweet, so sleepy, and I want to follow it and buy it flowers and dinner, and then come all over its face.

"Edward, is that you?"

"Yes, Bella," I answer, breaking away from the girl's mouth for a second to answer. Clearly my subconscious recognizes who is calling my name before the rest of me does. Bella, Bella, Bella… so pretty, so smart…

A light flicks on, and footsteps start making their way down the hall. I hum to myself, so happy – a girl is rubbing my dick through my jeans, and Bella is here…

Then everything hits me. "Shit!" I force the girl down behind the couch, where she is invisible to Bella's line of vision. She comes around the corner not two seconds later.

"What are you doing?" Bella asks. Her hair is up and her nose is scrunched, and she looks so warm and sleepy.

"Thinking," I say, when clearly I am not, because I have just shoved a drunk girl down to her knees in front of my crotch. Small, warm hands unzip my fly, and then small warm hands wrap themselves around my… my –

"Thinking about what?" asks Bella, moving closer into the living room and switching on the light. "I'm hungry… do you want a grilled cheese?"

"Yes," I say automatically, because I do. Her grilled cheeses are so delicious, with three different kinds of gooey cheese and maybe some chopped up ham and a tomato slice and – "Fuuuuuck." There is mouth around my cock. A mouth around my cock, hot and warm and oh my god.

"What's wrong?" She sounds genuinely concerned, as am I. I want to slap this girl in the face for blowing me in the middle of my living room with my roommate right here, my roommate with the grilled cheese and the soft hands and the tug-able nipples that I see through her nightshirt. "Edward, are you okay? You look really sick. You sound like you're going to vomit. Do you need anything?"

"I…" have a girl Hoovering my cock right now, Bella… "stubbed my toe. I need a band-aid. Quick! It's bleeding! I think I'm going to bleed out!"

She looks at me, alarmed. She must see how white my face is, and how much my voice is rising at an alarming decibel. She darts out of the kitchen and down the hall, and I take the time to pick the girl up by her shoulder, throw a twenty at her and kick her out of my apartment.

I close the door just as Bella walks back in the living room, a pack of band-aids and a huge tube of Neosporin in her hand. "Come on, let's fix you up – what did you stub it on?"

"Oh, um…" I don't have a stubbed toe, or a cut. Just an erection that's slick with spit sticking to my leg, and a buzz that is dwindling. "One second…" I walk back outside and take a couple gulps of fresh air. I'm an idiot. I have been calling myself an idiot so much lately, I'm surprised I haven't started losing basic motor functions.

The more I know about Bella, the more I like about her. Sure, she does annoying roommate woman-y things like clip her toenails on my couch, hang her bras over the bathroom door handle, make everything smell wonderful, cook me delicious meals… uh.

I crouch down and pull out my pocket knife, about to do something so unbelievably stupid, I'm questioning everything I have ever learned. I am about to make a wound on myself so a) I don't have to explain what all the moaning was about and b) so Bella has an excuse to touch me.

I bite my lip as the knife makes a small gash on my big toe. I limp back inside, where Bella is standing, looking ridiculously worried.

"Are you all right?" she asks for what seems like the millionth time. "You act so strange sometimes. Are you a drug dealer?" But she's smiling at me, teasing me in my drunken state. "Oh my GOD, Edward – you're bleeding everywhere, holy shit! Did you stub your toe on razors? Get off my rug!"

I leap off of her rug and onto the wooden floors. I am bleeding a lot more than I thought I was. Hmmm, my knife is so sharp. Good job, Dad. You picked out a great one for killing muggers and juvenile delinquents… Oh, I am so sleepy…

I wake up suddenly, and there is light everywhere. I hiss away from it like I am Lestat, burning in the intense rays. I am nearly naked except for whitey tighties that I most definitely was not wearing last night, and there is a giant penis drawn on my chest. I sigh – this is not the worst I've ever been waking up. There is a trash can by my bed, and – yep – I puked last night.

I sit up and run my hands through my hair, trying to gather what the fuck happened. I remember being invited out by Jasper, my roommate last semester. We went to a club – not a gay one – and there were girls, so many girls. A cute little blonde and I danced and then – oh.

There is a bright pink band-aid on my toe. Blood has soaked through it, but I don't care. Bella put that on my toe. My hairy hobbit toe.

My door bangs open, and in walks Emmett. I groan and slump back onto the bed – no, no, no, no. It's too early for the Bear Gay.

"Well, well, well," he says, putting his ham hocks on my chest. "X marks the spot, non? A little tryst last night, my faux friend?"

"I don't speak French," I mutter, my head under my pillow. "Why am I dressed like a five year old who wet his pants? Where are my sheets?"

"Bella called me last night at around two. You passed out on the floor – apparently, blood makes you squeamish – and she couldn't move you. You needed a man handling." He grins, delighted. "Plus, you were acting like a five year old who wets his pants. We put a puppy pad under you so you wouldn't ruin everything."

"This is my apartment to ruin," I grouse, rolling over. "Go away."

"How did you cut your toe like that, anyway? Bella says you stubbed it."

Suddenly, the whole story is pouring out of me. I tell him everything, even about the girl flogging my log while Bella was ten feet from me. He stares at me for a good thirty seconds before laughing.

"What is it with you, Steer Clear?" he asks eventually, tracing the penis drawn on my chest with one of his claws.

I shove his hand away. "What?"

"Can you not keep yourself out of stupid situations? You cut your own toe with a knife. Really? Why didn't you just tell Bella you had a dude down there, and you were embarrassed?"

"Bella's already really fucking sketchy about me being… you know. She wants all the details. How old was I when I knew? What was my boyfriend's first name? What's my favorite kind of ass lube? I don't even – "

"What did you tell her?"

"That only my diary knows those answers."

"And the gay continues."

There's a soft knock on my door, and Bella comes padding in. She's in a t-shirt and black cotton underwear-short things, and her legs are so long, like two vanilla popsicles. She crawls into bed next to me and lays her head on my chest. She yawns and hides her mouth, to cover her morning breath.

"What are we doing today?" she asks me, her hair so soft against me. "I'm off work, and I want to get out of the house."

"I have to work," I say, because I do.

I only work a couple times a week at a novelty bookstore my older sister owns, just to help her out. The rent and every cent I get by on comes from my parents, who agree to continue to pay for me as long as I'm a full time student.

Bella pouts and rubs her cheek along my chest absently. I don't want to see her pout. I hate pout. You caused that pout, Cullen.

"But I can call in," I say quickly.

She sits up quickly, and I miss her small warmth. "You can? Promise? We can have a girl's day!"

Emmett laughs and walks out of the room.

*

Alice is pissed that I skip out of work, but then I make the mistake of telling her it's for a girl. She's happy as can be then, and I wonder if her mood stabilizers are working as well as she says they are.

"Bring her by!" she demands into the phone, and then hangs up before I can tell her no.

I have been pretty successful at keeping Bella away from friends and family up to this point. Alice moved to Seattle with me, but other than that, most of my friends still reside in Chicago. I only really knew Garrett, but otherwise kept to myself except for the nights that I got lonely and ventured out for… "company." In fact, a majority of the friends I've met are now under the impression I'm gay, so the hang ups – save for the night previously – have been few and far between.

I consider my problem as Bella chatters away happily next to me. We walk down the street in downtown Seattle, and she has her hand tucked into my arm. I've never known such contentment, but it has come at such a high price – my dignity.

We duck into a door, and it takes me a minute to register where I am. There are chairs connected to little tubs, and a few desks set up with small fans on them. There are cheesy pictures on the wall with women holding roses, their bright red nails on display. The whole place reeks of that shit Alice uses to take off fingernail polish, and then it hits me.

"Two pedicures, please," says Bella to the tiny woman who asks what she can do for us. Bella looks up at me, and she must see my face. "Oh, it's my treat, Edward. Help me pick out a color!"

My eyes widen as she leads me towards shelves upon shelves of nail polish. Some of these colors cannot exist naturally.

"I wear a lot of black," Bella says, her eyes roaming over the colors. "I want something that will match it at all times without being obnoxious and too loud. What do you think? You always dress so well."

No, little girl. I pick up the first thing I see, and then Emmett comes over and yells at me.

"Um," I say. "This one." I grab at a green-yellow color that looks like baby shit.

She laughs. "Be serious, Edward."

Okay. Okay. Good. Another chance to choose. "This one. Definitely." It's a bright pink with sparkles. Chicks love when things sparkle. Sparkling is good. Sparkling is natural, right? Emmett sparkles whenever we go out. He tried to make me sparkle last time we went out to dinner, but I had to nip that shit in the bud. I draw the line at sparkling.

She just rolls her eyes at me. "You're always trying to make things hard for me."

You make things hard for me too, pretty girl. "No, I'm not. I'm just – "

"Being difficult. Choose one, asshole."

"This one," I say, hoping it's the right answer this time. There is a scary Asian woman staring at me, pointing at the tub.

"Oh, that's so pretty!" gushes Bella. "I knew you wouldn't let me down."

We are led over to the chairs, and I stick my feet in the warm water. It actually feels kind of nice, just sitting there. I look over at Bella and grin at her. She's texting and trying to not to laugh at the technician touching her feet.

"I'm ticklish," she explains. "I just texted Emmett and told him what we're doing. He says he's really jealous."

"Oh, I bet," I say under my breath. Not even ten seconds later, my phone buzzes in my pants. I take it out and open my text message from – big surprise – Emmett.

HAHAHAH is all it says.

As the nice lady with the clippers starts cutting away at the layers of dead skin on my toes, I turn to Bella. She looks so relaxed, leaning against the massage chairs. I watch her tits sway with the wave of the massage for a couple seconds.

"How's work?" I ask her, just so I can hear her talk.

"Okay," she answers, smiling a bit at me. "I know I come home smelling like a greasy mess every night."

"It doesn't bother me," I say honestly. "I'm used to guy smell – we all have some kind of enzyme that guarantees we smell like what we just ate."

She laughs. "You don't ever smell bad. Your bed always smells so good. I seriously want to roll around in your sheets sometimes."

Why? WHY?

"Oh," I stammer. "Well, I mean. You can. I don't mind. It would be nice having a vagina in my bed sometimes."

She rolls her eyes at me. "Yeah, I'm sure you get tired of all the penis you see." No, Bella. I'm just tired of the lack of your vagina I see. "Emmett has told me about all the guys you bring home while I'm asleep. You must gag them, because I never hear a peep."

Do you know why you never hear a peep, Bella? Because I thrash my dick frantically, so fast it feels like I'm blistering myself, to the raunchiest porn I can find. Sometimes, I'll just freeze a porn on a frame of a woman's vagina, because I think I've forgotten what one looks like.

"So," I start again, "why did you move to Seattle?"

She gets quiet, like I've asked the daily double on Jeopardy. "I just needed a change," she says finally. "Small town life was getting the best of me. Forks is home, but it's also a dead end. Things change, and so do people – so I had to decide whether I wanted to change with them or change on my own terms. So, I left."

I nod like it all makes sense, but she's being intentionally vague. Whatever. I can play that game, too, Bella. What were you doing just now, Edward? Why are your hands in your pants? Oh, just scratching an itch, Bella…

"Why did you?" she wonders, turning those big brown eyes on me.

I shrug. I'm about to answer, but then I see the girl working on my feet take out this thing that looks like a potato peeler.

"What the hell is that?" I demand, moving my foot away and splashing the girl with a bit of water.

Bella laughs. "Relax, Edward. You act like you've never gotten a pedicure before."

"What are you doing with that?" I ask the lady, ignoring Bella completely.

The lady ignores me in turn. She picks up my heel and starts going at it like a cheese grater. Dead skin is flying off everywhere.

"So?" Bella prods. "Why did you move? Chicago is a long ways away."

"I wanted to be close to the coast," I answer, still giving the lady the side-eye. "Uh, and I hate California."

"So does Emmett," says Bella. "He caught chlamydia one weekend in San Francisco, and vowed to never go back."

I grin. Oh, this is great news. As Bella and I finish up, I break out my phone again.

I hear your penis was sick.

I get a reply from Emmett almost instantaneously.

It may still be. Can you kiss it and make it better?

I put my phone away, chastised.

I am beginning to see that I can't ever win. Then, Bella mumbles something about bra shopping and needing my honest opinion.

Well, sometimes I win.