Yeah, hi. Um… don't throw tomatoes. I'm back with the last chapter, and the epilogue, all in one sitting! Ooooh, shiny. I know it's been a month and a half, but I started a new fic, and classes, and August just generally sucked as a month… so…

Yeah, I suck.

I can't thank you guys enough for the constant support of my hysteria and insanity. You guys are the rock on which I stand (I borrowed that from Coldplay). I love you, I love you, I love you. Thanks so much for reading.

Thanks to Ali and snarkerella for being fantastic women and betas. I love you two.

Disclaimer: Not mine. Well, the weirdness is mine.

xXxXx

In which I finally get some peace

We arrive home safely, which is a miracle. Jesus took one look at my thoughts, told me I was on my own, and let my dick take the wheel instead. The apartment is quiet and dark when we enter. I'm hungry, but I think something more important is going to take place. The air is still with tension, and Bella's hand hasn't left mine.

"Glad to be home?" I ask, throwing my bags over the couch. "I am. That was one long-ass – "

Whatever. Bella doesn't care to hear my whining, because one second I'm doing so, and then the next second, I have a tongue in my mouth. Which is fine, not complaining here – I usually wind up in trouble when I speak, and you know –

No, don't know where I'm going with that. But Bella knows where she's going with me, against the wall, knocking into the coffee table, slamming me into my door – that's really rude – and then finally, flat on my back in bed.

"Um," I mumble around her insistent kisses and licks. "Just – just to be clear, is sex –"

"Lose the pants, Cullen."

All right, well, I guess that's that. The pants go flying, and so do hers, and then we're naked and kissing and everything is frantically frenetic, and this is natural and good and hot and wet and just the tip?

"Condom," she insists, shoving at my chest with her foot.

"Condom," I grouse, making sure to stick my erection rudely in her face as I lean across her to grab one.

That didn't go exactly as planned, seeing as she took that opportunity to employ her skills as a vacuum. I pull myself out of her mouth with a pop, and she looks disappointed. Yeah, I fucking love her.

"There will be plenty of time for that later," I soothe.

She kicks me again. So violent. I grab her knees and force them apart… so she can't kick me, and because she's so pink and flushed between her legs. I wrestle with the condom, but I want a taste of her, just a bit. My tongue finds her, and her hands find my hair, and she's hurting me and loving me and I don't care that she's been in denim in a car for the past four hours without a shower, she's feeling so good that all of that is just white noise. I guess that's what love is – part of it, anyway.

Maybe love is all of these things combined, lies and truth, deception and reality, glamour and facades. Maybe it's putting your tongue on that girl just because she makes those noises. Maybe it's being a liar, and the feeling when she forgives you. Maybe it's laughter, and maybe it's screaming fights, and maybe it's ignoring questionable body noises. Maybe it's just her, and the way she's always looked at me, as her best friend, and the way she's looking at me right now, as someone she wants more and more of, all the time.

Or maybe I'm just trying to make sense out of something that doesn't need sense to clog it up. What we have is weird, messy, and nonsensical, but it's ours, and we make it work.

I drag my lips up her body and kiss her. She makes a face but kisses me back, digging her heels into my back like I'm a horse and she wants faster.

"Whoa, Nelly," I chide, pulling back to line us up, A and B, plug and socket, my cock and ohmygoddddmmmphhhh.

It's different. I mean, not wax poetic different, because all sex is good just because it's sex. But with her, this second time, there's something different. I mean, the first time, it was robotic. It was Bella and it was me and it was good, but it wasn't like this. There was no scratching or hair pulling or the way she keeps using the legs crossed behind my back to pump my hips harder into her – it was just the motions. But this is life, death, breath and drowning. It's harder and softer and meeting her demands and some of my own. It's making her feel hot when she's on top, and holding her tits so she doesn't cover their bounce from my eyes. It's guiding her hips, but not too much. It's getting impatient and rolling her back over.

It's pulling out and rubbing her clit and getting her on the brink before going back in, and it's her wide-eyed wonder at coming while someone is inside her for the first time. It's her wanting to do it again, but I can't, because I'm coming and never going, not ever.

I'm heavy, and she groans when I flop down on her. I can't move a muscle. I think every particle of energy in my body shot out of my dick and into the condom, which is getting a mess on the bed. I don't care, though. I am in my sexma… sex coma… it doesn't work, but neither does my brain right now. Or anything. I'm dead. Dead to the world. That was my cock's last hurrah.

"Hi," she whispers against my hair, and it's shy and it's fucking cute.

I lift my head and roll to the side. She follows me and lands on the condom. She squeals and I laugh and she hits me and I laugh more. I take the thing off with a wet slap, and she makes this awful upchucking noise. I dangle it over her face, and she goes red in the way that helpfully informs me that it's time to stop playing now. I throw it away, and she churlishly curls up to me, pinching my ribs every few seconds until I bite her knuckles.

We engage in this immature (fun) play for another couple minutes before she yawns and calls a truce. I agree, and then pinch her cute little ass. She kicks me half-heartedly, and then murmurs how warm I am. I know, baby. Settle in tight next to daddy.

I watch her sleep until it's creepy to continue. I get up and find something to cover my lower half with, and then shuffle into the kitchen. I'm starving and happy, happier than I can ever remember being. I'm mad that I can't keep the smile off my face because it seems so scripted. I guess this is one thing the movies got right – when you love a girl, and she loves you back, and you have a frozen pizza, life can't get any better.

xXxXx

I guess the supreme pizza is an aphrodisiac. Bella walks into the kitchen, groaning about how good it smells and bitching about having to go back to work the next day. One minute, I'm half listening, half staring at her tits, and the next, her tits are in my mouth and hands, and I don't have to pretend to listen anymore, because she's no longer making English-sounding noises.

She slides down the counter, taking my flannel PJ bottoms with her. I want to tell her that I'm sorry about my sweaty balls, but I don't think this is the right time for that. I guess she doesn't mind, because god damn, that's good. For some reason, I guess because I'm a man, my thoughts go to something awful, like her doing this with that big douche bag ex of hers. I wonder stupid shit, like if he taught her this, because let's face it, no one is born knowing how to oral-ize the opposite sex.

Then that makes me think about Jake and Emmett, doing… stuff. It would be like… two mountains smashing together, making a river at the end.

And my boner's gone.

"Edward?" She's hurt. Shit. Quick, think fast. No, no thinking. Just look at the tits, the nice, pretty tits… yes. "Oh, hello." She sucks my returning erection back between her lips.

Hello, yes, mmmppphhh. No, no, coming too quickly, you aren't fifteen, Edward. I hoist her up by the armpits, turn her around, smash her body halfway into the supreme pizza, listen to her bitch about it for approximately two seconds, and then hit it from the back. Like a rapper porn star. Or a white kid from Chicago.

And then I lose all possible narration skills, because it's just a bunch of 'unnnghhh' 'mmmm' 'oh shit' 'fuck, fuck, fuck' 'yes, right there' 'pull my hair harder' and then a big, 1812 overture worthy explosion.

"No condom," she squeaks as I pull out, and my DNA runs down her leg.

"Oh shit." I think I squeaked too. "I heard if you, um, douche with a Coke, it kills the sperm."

"Oh yeah?"

"Yeah."

"Why don't I put bleach up there while I'm at it?"

"That seems extreme." But I'm trying to be supportive. "But, uh… if you want to do that, I have some Clorox under the sink."

She looks horrified. "Edward, I was just kidding! I'm on birth control. I was just trying to freak you out, but now you're scaring the shit out of me with your bleach talk!"

"You started it!"

She just laughs. "I'm choosing to just… nope, that conversation is gone. Want some pizza? You have to eat it off my cleavage… that's where the rest of it is, thanks to your awesome foresight."

"I'm not complaining."

"If you eat so much as one pepper off me, you're cut off. Hand me a napkin."

I do, completely put out. "Fine. Pull your shirt back up, skank."

"Pull your pants back up, slut."

"No. I like this free feeling."

"I'll just call Emmett then – "

The pants go up. "Not funny."

She sits down at our table, chewing on a piece of pizza that wasn't smooshed. "Speaking of Emmett… it's been forever."

I sit across from her. "Yeah. It has. I miss that asshole."

"Did you ever meet Rosalie?" She puts her hair up with a thingy that was wrapped around her wrist. "The tall, gorgeous bartender at the Nugget?"

"Hell yes," I say suddenly. "She made me a Tom Collins, and then asked if there wasn't enough fairy dust in it when I wouldn't drink it. The same night I met you and Emmett."

Bella giggles. "Yeah, she's quite a character. Apparently, she's Emmett's new 'hag.' They've been seen together everywhere."

"Are you cool with that?"

She gives me a strange look. "What do you mean?"

"Well…" I pause, trying to word this correctly. I don't always have the gift of eloquence. "You and Emmett stopped hanging out so much when you thought I was gay, and we kind of became the, uh… team. But then, you know, all the shit happened, and I'm not gay… I just wanted to make sure you don't miss that, or if you do, I don't have an issue with you having that back. Or, I mean – that sounds bad. I'm not like, giving you permission, like an asshole. I'm just saying – "

She puts her hand over my babbling lips. "Do I miss Emmett? Yeah, of course. He is, was, whatever, my best friend. But you – Edward… you're irreplaceable to me." She actually flushes, and not in an I'm-about-to-kick-your-ass way. "I told you how I felt about you, but I guess… technically, I told Jacob."

My heart is pounding against my ribs. Am I dying? This can't be a normal reaction. "Yeah?"

"I don't know what we're going to tell people who ask us how we met," she laughs, tugging at her short little forehead-hair thing. "But I guess that doesn't matter, right? I mean… stuff still hurts sometimes, like with Jake, and you… but I think that's life. I mean, does stuff ever stop hurting? Like, I remember being betrayed by my BFF in second grade, and I still remember how much that hurts, and it stings a bit."

"Emmett grinded on me with an erection. That memory still hurts…"

She looks annoyed. "Not exactly the same sentiment. Anyway… I guess my point is, the life with Emmett was just existing, you know, trying to get through each day with a smile on my face. We were a depressed pair for a while, and it was hard to talk to each other since we were depressed about the same thing." She smiles sadly. "Then you come along, and you were different and weird… and really, really hot."

"Oh yeah…" Tell me more.

"And you know, there was something off about you – but I always just kind of thought it was your nervousness about being a recently outted gay man. I mean, all the times you saw me naked…"

"Let's not talk about how much I flayed my dick raw due to those times. I still limp when I think about it."

"Then your sister tells me how much of a man whore you were – "

"I resent that."

"So… I started thinking you were bisexual. And it made me look at you twice, not as my hot gay BFF, but as my hot roommate who was funny and sweet in a weird way…"

"Yes…?"

"Well, I mean… I never thought I'd open myself up again. And maybe I haven't all the way yet. Maybe you'll have to wrench me open, drag me kicking and screaming. But I'll be there, opening up for you. You're worth it, and… I love you, Edward."

My smile cracks my face open. I kiss her and tell her I love her over and over, and then show her, with my hands and lips and cock and heart.

xXxXx

"Are you sure this is a good idea?" I whisper, watching Emmett and Rosalie (who looks terrifying) come towards our table.

"Of course I am," Bella replies.

"I don't believe you." I pull her closer to me, loving the press of her tits against my chest. "This has bad idea written all over it. Rosalie is a scary Amazon woman, and Emmett – "

" - Has missed you, too, Steer," Emmett cuts in, sliding down the booth opposite of us.

Clearly, I wasn't whispering as well as I thought. "Awesome."

"Bella, you know Rosie," Emmett says, squeezing Bella's hand from over the table. "She works at the Nugget at night and owns that mechanic shop near my apartment."

I have visions of her using a wrench to screw off my balls if I come across rude. I wince, and Bella puts her ankle under my calf, hooking her foot to me. It's comforting.

"Of course," answers Bella, sipping her water. "It's good to see you again."

"Edward, this is Rosalie, the scary Amazon woman."

"Uh, hi." Shit. Shit.

"Grrr," says Rosalie dryly, causing all of us to laugh. "I remember you. The little bitch with the Tom Collins."

"I wanted a beer," I protest. "Natty Light, Sam Adams, I don't care. Any of those would have been better."

"I ordered the drinks," Emmett recalls. "I so wanted in your pants."

"Ain't happenin'," I say quickly.

"Notice my use of past tense," he says rudely.

"Oh… uh… good." Why am I offended? Damn it.

We have dinner, and it's good. Rosalie is funny and a total bitch, which brings out Bella's funny-bitchy side. Why do girls play off each other like that? Emmett and Rosalie laugh at inside jokes, and I squeeze Bella's hand whenever I see her slightly sad smile. I know she misses that camaraderie, no matter what she says. It means that much more to me, knowing she chose me over that, even if she didn't have to. I guess she just knows her single party days are over, whereas Emmett's are still going strong.

When dinner ends, Emmett pulls Bella to the side. I watch them carefully – Bella's sad nods and half-smile, and Emmett's comforting 'big bear' laughter and hugs. I can tell it's a parting of the ways, a 'we'll always be friends, but…' – and I feel for her. It sucks when certain chapters of your life are over, no matter how good the next chapters will be.

They finish their talk, and when Bella returns to me, she presses her face in my chest. I wrap my arms around her small shoulders and wonder if this is the best part of love – not the words, not the kisses, not the sex (okay, that's a lie), but the quiet admissions of comfort, and the knowledge that the other person will always be there with a warm chest and arms to hold you.

Emmett grins at me from over Bella's shoulder, and I have to smile back. He and I will never be good friends, because his entire purpose was to teach me how to be something I'm not, and to aggravate me for months. But I like him, and I feel for him, and I hope he finds the happiness he deserves. If I can find happiness like the small woman sniffling against my heart, then so can he – so should he.

"Take care of her, Steer," he says in a father-like voice. He claps me on the shoulder, and then pinches my ass.

I barely flinch – some things never change.

I kiss Bella's hair and hope, with all of me, that some things never will.

xXxXx

PS: That 'coke as a douche to kill semen' thing – I didn't make that up. I saw it on myth busters, I believe. What a waste of a perfectly delicious beverage.