I want to thank sadtomato for the awesome WCs that helped me knock out this chapter in like three hours. No lie. And for her manhands. They make me love you even more bb.
To MeteorMuse for betaing - I love you, lover.
To TippyL, know that I was thinking of you SO much when I wrote this. IMY.
IMPORTANT NOTE ON PAIRINGS:
I recently realized that my summary and pairings don't necessarily match up with the continued version of my story. They were set for the o/s and were the best choices at that time. For that reason, I've updated my summary and tried to change the pairing to just show Edward for now but FFn wouldn't let me. I really hope you stick around to see how things end up...
SMeyer owns Twilight. I own confusing phone sex.
ooOOoo
"Edward! Baby, I missed you so much. You have no idea what it's been like without you around here. I simply must come visit you before Christmas. It's too far away. I won't take no for an answer." My mother rambles on and on as she pulls me in to a never-ending hug.
"Mom. Mom. I'm here for a week. We can hug every day if you want. Just let me get inside." I break free from her death grip and squeeze around her to finally make it into the house. I feel like escaping to my room already, but I know I need to get in some serious quality time. And frankly, escaping to my room will only lead to brooding about Garrett. I'm better off down here in the kitchen listening to my mom go on and on about the latest society gossip.
I hop onto a bar stool with a handful of grapes and try to follow her story about the mother of someone I went to high school with who is having an affair with … someone I went to high school with? Wait, that can't be right.
"Hold on. You're saying that Jenny's mom was seen out at dinner on the other side of the city with Justin? JustinJustin that I graduated with? That's insane. Jenny's mom has to be, what, fifty? Fifty-five?" The thought of fifty-year-old vagina disgusts me, and I kind of want to vomit; not to mention the fact that Jenny wasn't exactly a looker in high school, so I'm sure her mom isn't either.
"Yes. That's what I said. What on earth is that poor boy doing with her? She'll eat him alive, she will. But anyway, I don't really know for sure. That's just what I heard at the women's tea last week. You know how those things are." Mom is topping off flutes of champagne with a bit of orange juice. Apparently, my return home on a Saturday morning at ten o'clock is cause for mimosas. I'm not complaining. "Now, let's have a drink to celebrate my only son being home so much earlier than I thought he would be."
"Oh. Right. Couldn't sleep. Guess I was too excited," I lie.
After class yesterday, I started packing but then decided I didn't want to get here in the middle of the night, so I stuck around town wasting time. Unfortunately, I couldn't get to sleep after enduring over 24 hours with no word from Garrett and finally got out of bed at 2:15 and started driving. I made good time, only stopping once for gas and caffeine, but now I realize this day is going to drag if I don't get a nap in.
I reach for my mimosa, say a quick "Cheers" and down it in a few gulps. "Mom, I really could use a catnap. Unless you wanted to have brunch first. I can wait until after we eat, I guess."
"Don't be silly, dear. Your father won't be home from the hospital until at least after lunchtime. How about I fix a big meal to have around four o'clock? That way you can get some sleep, and we can all eat as a family later." She kisses me on both cheeks, and I tell her it's good to be home before walking up the stairs and opening my old bedroom door.
It's the first time I've been back, so things seem a little strange. Not uncomfortable, just different. I'd forgotten I left a stack of pictures from senior year on my old desk, and they still sit here, gathering dust. I drop my bags on the floor and grab the pile, sitting back on the bed to flip through them.
Several are just of different days at school. I was always taking pictures with my phone, and I got sentimental enough one day to print a bunch of my friends and put them on a bulletin board in my room. There's one of Emmett that always stands out to me. He's got his arm around this girl who used to be obsessed with him, but it's so completely obvious in the picture that he's not into her. I can't believe no one in high school didn't figure out he was gay.
A few are of our old crew dicking around in the courtyard at lunch. God, I don't miss uniforms. That blazer was itchy as shit, and polyester doesn't look good on anyone. Period.
There are a few from a scholarship awards program, some of me with my parents at graduation, some friends at a big graduation party, and then prom. God, prom. I was out later in high school. Everyone knew I was gay, and everyone for the most part was okay with it. A few of my mom's friends had even commented at different times that they wished their own sons were gay. Crazy WASPy bitches. But when it came to prom, there were unspoken rules. Still waters that needed no waves. So I played the role and went with an old friend from a neighboring school, Tanya. We look great together in these pictures, and I had a fun time. Prom is definitely a good memory for me. But, for some reason, right now, I feel a pang in my chest. For the first time in a year, I wonder what if. What if I'd known Garrett in high school? I'd never felt for someone the way I'm afraid I might feel for him. What if we'd been together back then? Would we have defied the rules? Crashed through those still waters on a big gay boat? I've had a pretty charmed life, and I find myself wondering if Garrett always had it easy. If he's even out back home. If he wakes up every day facing the world as a happily gay man. There are so many things I want to know.
I toss the pictures on the bed beside me and pull my phone from my pocket, dialing his number for what feels like the hundredth time in these few days. It rings three times before going to voicemail, and I hang up. He's already got like fifteen messages from me. I toss the phone next to the pictures, toe off my shoes, and slide back further on the bed. My last thought before drifting off is about what I'd give to hear his voice today.
ooOOoo
"Edward? You there?" His voice sounds far away, like he's hold the phone out at arm's length.
"Garrett? Where are you? What's going on?" I sit straight up in bed, finally realizing I've answered my phone in my half-asleep state and it's him. Finally.
"Hey. I'm back home. Actually I'm not even home home. I'm back in this shithole town my grandparents live in. I told you my grandpa is in the hospital, right?"
"Yeah. Yes, you did. H-how is he?" I'm not good with sadness. And I'm not even sure he's sad. He just sounds really tired, so I'm treading lightly here.
"He's okay. I mean, he had a stroke, and it's touch and go. But they think he's breathing on his own so they're going to try to take him off the ventilator tomorrow morning."
"I'm really sorry, Garrett. You doing okay? I'm here whenever you want to talk." I struggle to find the right words, but I will him to know that he can lean on me. That I care.
"Yeah. I'll be alright. It's hard seeing my grandma not know what to do with herself. But, I'm good. How are you? How's Chicago? Tell me something exciting."
"Umm. The mom of a girl I went to high school with is having an affair someone I went to high school with?"
"Dude. That's disgusting. Is that all you've got?" Garrett sounds as repulsed as I did earlier, and I laugh.
"I'm afraid that's it so far. I just got in this morning, downed a mimosa with my mom and was just trying to take a nap when you called." I lie back on the bed again, relaxing now that our conversation has set a comfortable rhythm.
"Shit. I'm sorry. I can call back later. I have shit reception out here. I'm actually hiding in the bathroom on the top floor of my grandparents' old farmhouse. It's the only spot I have signal andwas able to get away from Alice."
"No worries. I'm glad you called. I was … worried. It's good to hear your voice." My voice is softer, worried that I've revealed too much and that he might hang up.
"Sorry about that. I was preoccupied. You say you just got in this morning? What have you been doing since Thursday afternoon?" His tone isn't exactly accusatory, but it's no longer light-hearted.
"Thursday, I went to bed sad that we weren't having dinner. Friday, I had class all day - a total waste by the way - and I packed Friday evening. Then when I couldn't sleep, I went ahead and got on the road at about two a.m."
"Ahh, I see."
There's a minute of silence, and before it becomes awkward, I blurt out the first thing that comes to my mind.
"What are you wearing?" Jesus. He's definitely going to hang up.
"What am I wearing? Edward. Are you trying to be sexy?"
"No! I mean, no. I was just making small talk."
"Oh Edward, there's nothing small here. I think you know that first-hand." Oh God. Is he a dirty talker like Jasper? Fuck. Why did I have to think of Jasper right now? Regardless of my thoughts, I feel myself harden in my jeans.
"Umm. I don't really, I mean, I'm not sure what to say. About that."
"Well, did you feel something smallthe other day on my bed? When I was massaging every inch of your body?" Yep. We've got a dirty talker over here. Send help. Or lube.
"No. Definitely not small. It was big. Bigger than I'd dreamed about." I make my best attempt at innuendo, but even as I say it, I'm cringing. Garrett totally takes it in stride though.
"You've been dreaming about me, E? That's sweet. Or have you just been dreaming about my cock?" My dick is straining against my fly, so I reach down and unbutton it, then pull myself free from my briefs.
"Why don't you tell me what you're wearing, Edward? Then I'll tell you the same."
"Well, I'm wearing a pair of jeans and a light pink Lacoste polo. It's my mom's favorite. I know. I'm a momma's boy. And I took my shoes off before lying down to nap. So that's it."
"Hmm, no underwear?" His breaths become heavier in my ear as he asks.
"Oh. Yeah. Umm, red Calvin Kleins. Briefs." I reach down almost without thought and stroke myself a few times.
"Fuck. I'd love to see those some time. If that's okay with you, I mean." I hear rustling in the background, like a cabinet being opened and closed.
"Yeah. I mean, we'll see. Your turn. What are you wearing?"
"I'm wearing a pair of black basketball shorts and some black short Adidas socks. And that's it." Oh my fuck. He's commando. The boy is a commandodirty talker. I reach into my old nightstand, crossing my fingers the bottle of Jergens I used to jerk off with is still there. Bingo. I pull it out of the drawer and eagerly squirt some onto my palm, then lower the hand to my cock again and take a firm grip.
"Edward? Did you say you were lying down?" Okay, his breathing is definitely heavier.
"Yeah, I'm in my old room, on my old bed. It's kind of strange." I focus on making sure my breath stays even while I speak and not blurting out anything ridiculous like I usually do.
"Mmm, I can just picture you lying there. Take your shirt off."
"What?"
"I said, take your shirt off. Now, Edward." Oh. Oh I see. He's being all demanding and shit like he was at his house. I peel the shirt from my body and toss it onto the floor.
"Okay. S'off."
"Good. Now what are you doing?"
"Umm, lying here? I don't know." I look down at my cock, my grip tight and the lotion making each stroke smooth. I've never done this before, and I'm not sure if I'm supposed to actually say I'm whacking off. What if he isn't, and then I just seem like a big perv?
"I'm not sure I can go slow with you, E. I wish I was there on your bed with you." His breaths have picked up, and I hear what sounds like a muffled moan.
"Garrett? Are you …" There's a clatter and then his moan is not so muffled. Oh my God. A few seconds pass before I hear a scuffle for the phone.
"E? You there? I dropped the phone. Shit. Fuck. Sorry." I hear the sound of running water.
"Oh my God! You totally just jerked off. Didn't you?" I'm incredulous, accusing, until I look down at my own hand and resume stroking.
"What? I gotta go, babe. Umm, I need to change clothes before we go back to the hospital. I'll call you tomorrow hopefully. Bye!"
'Garrett? G?" There's no response. "Fuck!" I yell and throw the phone to the floor in disgust. Did he just use me to get off? Or was that what phone sex is supposed to be like? And why didn't I get off, if so? I wish I knew what the hell was going on, and I lie back trying to figure it out. At least he called me babe. That's an improvement, right?
"Edward? Dear, are you okay in there?" I'm sporting a lotioned-up semi on the bed at my parents' house, I can't figure out if I've just had phone sex with a guy that I want to be my boyfriend, and my mother is outside my bedroom door. Jesus.
ooOOoo
"This is great, Mom. Really good." Eating dinner with my parents used to be torturous. Teenage angst and all that. But this is pretty great. It's nice spending time with them without all the pressure from before. I've chosen a path, my mother is ecstatic about it and my father has resigned himself to it. And there's wine. It's perfect.
We make small talk all that evening. My mom is already planning a weekend trip to see me at school, while my father reads a medical journal and tells her he can't get away from work to come along.
We make plans to do several Chicago-ish things during the first part of the week before the family all descends on the place for Thanksgiving, and things get too crazy to really spend some time together.
I tell them I'm driving back first thing Friday morning. I say it's to prepare for returning to school, but I really hope it gives me a weekend to see Garrett and figure shit out.
ooOOoo
Tuesday afternoon, my mom and I are at the top of the Sears Tower. It's something we've done every year or so since I was just a little kid. I used to talk about it for weeks before and afterward, talking about how huge the city was to anyone that would listen.
"Is it as big as you remember?" Mom nudges my arm with her shoulder as I look out across the horizon.
"Honestly? No. Everything seems bigger when you're a kid, right?" I grin at her, but she's serious.
"Honey, I don't know what's going on with you, but you were preoccupied all weekend. If there's anything you want to talk about, I'm always here. You know that, right?"
"I know, Mom. Thanks." I'm sulking, and she knows it.
I wander over to a different window and check my phone. Again. I've had no word from Garrett since our almost phone sex on Saturday afternoon. I texted on Saturday evening and again on Sunday with no responses. The few times I've tried to call him, his phone has actually been turned off. I should be worried I guess, but I'm so uncertain in whatever our relationship is - if it's a relationship - that I'm simply confused.
I wish he'd call.
ooOOoo
It's 5:00 on Thursday. Thanksgiving dinner is almost here, but more importantly, there are only sixteen hours until I head back home. I love my parents, and I love Chicago but for right now, my home is alone at school. Maybe with the pleasure of some male company.
My grandparents have come from Indiana, so I've been making small talk with my grandpa all day. Every time he does something that reminds me of just how old he is, I think of Garrett and his own grandfather. I still haven't heard from him, and I'm nervous, fidgeting and checking my phone multiple times.
On the other hand, I have heard from Jasper and Riley. Often. Most of the texts were just witty banter and sexual innuendo. We saw this and thought of you with a picture of a bottle of tequila. Jazz is watching past Oscar winners. Can't wait to go to RagTag again. That sort of thing. But at least they're staying in touch.
"Edward, join us in the kitchen, won't you dear?" My grandma is standing in the doorway, looking like the cat that ate the canary. This ought to be good. I get up off the couch and stroll into the kitchen, stick my hand in the fridge for a Heineken and lean against the counter.
My mom is cutting a pecan pie and a pumpkin cheesecake, while my grandma tops the sweet potatoes with pecans and marshmallows, then sticks them back in the oven. She turns to a huge pot of regular potatoes and begins mashing.
"Is there something you need help with?" I ask as I take a swig of beer.
"Not at all, dear. You just sit there at the bar and tell me how school is going."
I do as I'm told and take a seat, setting the beer on the granite counter in front of me and running a hand through my hair. "It's good, Grandma. Classes are fine, the house is good. I, uh, I play basketball every Saturday with some guys, and … oh, Gram, there's this coffee shop I go to every morning. You'd loveit there. Excellent espresso and the boys aren't bad either, if you know what I mean." My grandma has always been a bit pervy, and she appreciates a good ass as much as my mom and I do.
"Oh, honey, that sounds perfect. Just the kind of pick-me-up you need in the morning I bet." She winks at me across the room. Oh Gram, you have no idea the kind of pick-me-up they provide.
"Yep." I take another long pull from my bottle.
"So, what else? Who are these boys you play basketball with? You don't like basketball. Are you having a little fun with one of them?"
"Mother!" My mom speaks for the first time since I entered the kitchen. "That's completely inappropriate. If Edward is having a relationship of some sort, we're the last people he'd want to talk to about it, I'm sure." She's talking but her eyes keep drifting my way, curiously.
"It's okay, Mom. Yeah, I mean … there are a few guys I guess." Oh boy. How do I have this conversation? I settle on a need to know basis. There are definitely some aspects of my lifestyle that these two do not need to know. "I really think I like this one guy, Garrett. He's great. But, I don't know. It just … hasn't seemed like the right timing yet."
"Well, why on earth not, dear?"
"I don't know … there's sort of this other guy as well." I tread lightly, treating Jasper and Riley as one 'guy'. "They're pretty great but I'm not sure it would lead to anything serious."
"Who, dear? Garrett or this other boy?"
"Hmm? Oh, umm, the other guy. I don't think they - he'slooking for anything serious right now. But with Garrett, I don't know, I guess I could see something happening there. Something long-term maybe. It's confusing." I furrow my brow and look over at my mother, who has paused with her knife in mid-air and is staring at me.
"I'm confused, honey. How many boys are there?" Shit.
"Just the two. Garrett and the other one." I try to sound convincing and return her stare.
"And Garrett wants something steady but the other boy doesn't?"
"Yeah. I mean, I think that's right."
"Well then, I don't see what the problem is. Choose Garrett." My grandmother has jumped back into the conversation with both feet. "He might be just what you need."
Without saying a word, I finish the beer, hop down from the stool and deposit the bottle in the recycling bin by the refrigerator. "I'm gonna go to the bathroom real quick," I mumble, trying to avoid further discussion about my love life.
When I return, dinner is on the table and conversation turns to things like weather and politics. I eat my fill, visit as long as I deem polite, and finally tell everyone I'm heading to bed, checking my phone on the way up the stairs. Still nothing. I compose a quick text to Garrett.
Happy Thanksgiving. Maybe next year we'll be spending it together...
As I drift off, my grandma's words ring in my head. Choose Garrett.
ooOOoo
Goodbyes were brief after my mom - and now also my grandma - finalized a weekend to come visit in December, and I'm on the road before nine. If I make really good time, I should be home well before five o'clock, and I text Garrett as such.
I woke up this morning with a determined will. I'm going to put my sexploits with Jasper and Riley behind me and focus my energy on seeing what can be with Garrett. I'll still be friends with Jazz and Ri. I'm not going to all-out avoid them, but I think I owe it to myself and to Garrett to see what this is between us. And I can't do that while being fucked and blown by other dudes. At the same time, no less.
But Friday night rolls around with no word from him. I unload my car, put away all the fresh laundry my mother did for me, and fill the fridge with leftovers she forced on me at the last minute.
I plop down on the couch and pull out my phone. Nothing. I dial his number and sigh when it goes straight to voicemail, just like it did Wednesday. I wonder if he's even getting my texts or if he's ignoring me. I feel like we didn't really get a chance to talk all week, and I'm fast becoming needy. Insecure.
I decide I'm not going to sit around waiting, grab my keys from the counter and leave the house, but by the time I get downtown, I have no idea where to go. A lot of places seem like they're closed for the holidays, and there aren't any students wandering around like a normal Friday night.
I sit on a bench and pull out my phone. 8:21. This morning, I thought that surely by now I'd be cozied up with Garrett. Instead I'm alone on a city bench. Hesitating for only a second, I type out a text and hit send.
What do you have going on tonight?
I can hang out without having sex. Right?
We're still in Texas, E. Should be back Sunday. Hit me up then?
Sure thing.
I pocket the phone and lean back against the bench. What the hell am I going to do all weekend?
ooOOoo
Tuesday morning arrives, and I lie in bed, seriously contemplating not even going to class. Tons of people skip. I could just sleep in, but there's a lingering hope in the back of my mind that I might see him today. Tuesdays and Thursdays are the days our paths cross on campus most often.
I slide out of bed, tiptoe around the creaky floorboard and turn on the shower. He never called, never texted, never showed up. I'm starting to seriously doubt that there was ever anything more to our relationship than some sexy flirting, but I'm trying to hold out hope.
I came to my senses after a full day alone Saturday and skillfully avoided hanging out with Jasper and Riley. I know I can't resist that shit, and I don't want to be put in a situation that tests my will power before talking to Garrett first. I did go to the coffee shop yesterday morning, but it was a quick stop, and we did little more than exchange eye rolls about spending a week with our mothers.
After I finish getting ready, I head to campus and sit through my first class, barely containing the eagerness I feel at the possibility of seeing Garrett in a few minutes.
My eyes are peeled the whole walk to A&S, searching every face on the crowded sidewalks hoping to find his. I stall outside the building, pull my phone out and send yet another text.
Tuesday morning. Hope your coffee date is fun. Can't lie. I'm a little jealous.
ooOOoo
Closing my eyes, I focus on the sensations around me. Lips are on my own and scruff is prickling my own smooth cheek. Soft fingers trail down my sides and wrap around my hips, squeezing, before sliding across my abs and meeting somewhere between my belly button and my button-flys. I moan, urging him to continue, when a new set of lips sucks gently at my nipple. I turn my head slightly so I can pull Jasper up to my mouth while Riley slides along my body and settles between me knees.
I caved. It's Thursday night, and I still haven't heard from Garrett. Riley has been texting me non-stop for two days, so I finally agreed to go to their house only to get my sweatshirt. Garett's sweatshirt. I should have known I'd end up here.
'Here' is lying flat on my back on their bed, about ten seconds from having Riley's lips around my dick and Jasper's cock in my ass. Just like the first time, we started with a movie in the living room, but no body shots were necessary to get me in their bed this time. I'm horny, lonely and frustrated at this point. I just want to feel wanted.
As Riley slowly undoes my fly and pulls my jeans down but not totally off, I deepen the kiss with Jasper, desperate to taste more. Feel more.
"Fuck, you kiss like you don't know if you'll ever kiss again, E. It's amazing." Jasper rubs one hand along my chest as he speaks, then lower.
He grasps my cock in his hand and holds it while Riley licks the tip.
"Oh shit. Keep doing that," I groan and lie back against the pillows, waiting for Riley to take me all the way in his mouth. Instead, they tease me for what feels like forever, Jasper's hand barely stroking and Riley's tongue barely licking. "Fuck. Come on guys," I whine, and they chuckle.
"We missed you, Edward. It's been awhile." Jasper looks me in the eyes but keeps stroking. I look away and focus back on Riley's mouth without answering.
Finally, Jasper removes his hand so Riley can take me all the way, and I moan with pleasure. "Yes. Fuck."
"Guys? Jazz? You here? Why's it all dark? You're not fucking back there, are you? I thought you said I could come over whenever I wanted."
I recognize the voice coming down the hall.
Alice.
What. The. Fuck.
I jump off the bed, grab my tee shirt, and fall to the floor, tripping over the forgotten jeans around my ankles. When I finally right myself and pull the jeans up to button them, I look toward the doorway, panicked.
"Edward? Oh my God! We've gotto stop meeting like this." She glares at me, and my only impulse is to run.
ooOOoo
Soooo, where do you think Garrett's been? And what do you think Alice is gonna say? This is definitely the climax of the story. Well, the plot climax at least. ;)
Dirty Words posts Friday on the Twinklings blog. Check it out!
Chapter 7 is already 2500 words so it won't be long before the next update. See you next time!