It's pretty depressing ordering Chinese takeout for one.
Edward and I always get Chinese on Thursday nights, and we sit around and watch sitcoms, drink, and make plans for the weekend. He likes the bitchy little brunette on Community, and I have a hard-on for Joel McHale, so it works out well for both of us.
Tonight, though, he's not around. I haven't seen him since last night. He did send me a text around five this afternoon, letting me know he was going to a happy hour with some people from his office. He used to invite me along to shit like that. Not that I would've driven across town to have some expensive martinis with the yuppie assholes he works with, but it would've been nice if he'd asked.
I figured he'd be home by eight, so I've held off on ordering the food. When he doesn't show, I pick up the phone to call the Golden Buddha and order food for myself. At the last minute, I add an order for Edward's usual, too. He can eat it when he comes home.
An hour later, my belly full of lo-mein and cheap beer, I'm considering the psychology of Jim and Pam's marriage and wondering how often they have sex. I hear Edward's key turn in the lock and my lips curl up into a smile.
"Hey, fucker," I call, once I hear the door open. "Your kung pao chicken is in the fridge."
"Hey, Jake," he calls, and I hear the door close behind him. Edward sounds a little sloppy, and I hear him banging against the wall as he takes off his shoes.
And then I hear a giggle.
He walks around the corner, his arm wrapped around some stick-thin girl with shiny fucking hair. She looks like the goddamn girl on Community.
She's pretty. Edward's girls are always pretty.
"Jakey, my man, my BFF," he says, slurring just a little. "This right here is Angela." He sings a little "Angie," doing his best Mick Jagger impression.
"Hey," I greet her, raising my beer bottle. She giggles again and waves nervously, and I wonder if she can even fucking talk.
"Ang here brought me home, I had a couple maybe too many drinks," Edward explains. I can fucking see his hand squeezing her side, sliding up and down to tickle her ribs.
"You could've called me, man," I remind him. I would've bitched about it, but I would've driven across town to pick him up.
"I didn't mind," Angela says, finally finding her fucking voice. I have the urge to mock her high-pitched little squeak, but I bite back my bitter reaction.
"You want a drink, babe?" Edward asks her, turning his head so his lips are right next to her fucking ear. I can see her shudder, and I can't blame her. Those lips have been that close to my ear, and it feels amazing.
"Maybe just a water," she says, reaching over to tug on the lapel of his jacket. Watching them flirt is like having a knife stuck in my stomach and then twisted, tapped, jiggled around. It's one sharp pain compounded by every look, every touch, every unspoken word.
"Have a seat," he says, gesturing to the couch where I'm sitting. I slide my feet to the floor so she has room to sit, and Edward disappears into the kitchen.
"So what are you watching?" she asks, her hands folded in her lap. I look her up and down, trying to hate her, but she seems like a nice girl. Edward's girls are always fucking nice.
"The Office," I answer simply. She just nods. I want to get her the fuck out of here so Edward can eat his kung pao chicken and hang out with me. "You know, he's fine now that he's home. If you wanna go, I'm sure he won't mind," I suggest, trying to make it sound like we were on the same team. The Taking Care of Edward Team.
"Ummm..." she says, twisting her hands, looking back towards the kitchen. "Well, I-"
"One water, for the lady," Edward says, strolling in with a bottle of water in one hand and a glass of scotch in the other. She thanks him, accepts the bottle of water and opens it to take a sip. Edward doesn't sit with us, he just sits on the arm of the couch, right next to Angela. We all watch the TV in silence for a few minutes, but I can see the communication between the two of them.
Edward has a hand on her shoulder, squeezing it gently. He slides it under her stupid shiny hair to tickle the back of her neck, and he's already got her squirming. He could probably pull his dick out right now and she'd suck it for him.
When the show goes to commercial, he stands up. "You want the tour, Ang?" he asks her, and I notice that he suddenly seems a lot more sober than he did a few minutes ago.
"Sure," she says, jumping to her feet. I know what "the tour" is. I've seen Edward give "the tour" many fucking times. I know that it starts in the kitchen and ends in his bedroom, with the tourist naked in his fucking bed.
I cringe as he takes her hand to lead her around. I want nothing more than to figure out a way to stop them. Maybe I could go out in the hall and pull the fire alarm... or maybe I could actually set something on fire...
It never used to bother me, seeing Edward bring home girls. I was always a little jealous, but it wasn't this seething, writhing, fiery kind of jealousy that I feel now. Now that I know what it's like to see Edward cum. Now that I know what he feels like pressed up against me, grinding his hard-on into me.
We haven't talked about that shit, because what is there to say? Edward's not gay, he's not bi, he's never been with a dude. He never looks at me like he wants me, never makes a move. I think the time I saw him masturbating he was just putting on a show; he's always been into doing shit in public, so it was probably just the thrill of showing off. And the fact that he got a boner while we were dancing? I blame that on friction.
I'm sure he hasn't given a second thought to either one of those instances, but I think about them both every fucking day. I remember every detail about his cock, his cum face, the way he touched me when he was "pretending" to flirt.
I didn't hear Edward's door close, so I figure they're still talking or whatever. I wait for a little while, watch the rest of The Office, and clean up the mess from the Chinese food. It's still early, but I figure I'll get to bed before the porno screaming starts. If I put on my headphones and turn up the music as loud as it goes, I won't have to listen to Edward's headboard banging against our shared bedroom wall.
Maybe I'm wrong... maybe he's not fucking her. I'm walking down the hall, and his bedroom door is still cracked open a few inches. I can't hear them talking, so I step closer and peek inside.
Holy shit. Why the fuck didn't Edward close the door?
I should close it. I should walk away. This isn't just spying on Edward, this is another person's privacy, too.
But Edward's practically fucking naked, and he's fucking this girl's mouth. I can't look away.
Angela is kneeling on the goddamn floor, just wearing her stupid black skirt, and Edward's tie-the red one that his dad sent him for his birthday-is wrapped around her head, covering her eyes like a blindfold. Both of her hands are clasped behind her back and she's got her mouth wide open, taking Edward's thick cock like a champion. He's lost his pants and his underwear, and but his shirt is still hanging, unbuttoned, from his shoulders.
As much as straight sex turns me off... well, everything about Edward turns me on, and my dick is rock solid in seconds. I need to walk away though, before he sees me. This would be... surely this would be crossing a line. He doesn't want me to watch them.
Except... why did he leave the door open, then?
I push away from the door, resolving to take care of my erection in my own bedroom. Preferably to the image of a guy sucking off another guy, to erase the mental image of Angela's tits.
"You like this, don't you?" Edward says, stopping me in my tracks. I turn my head, just enough to see him, and he's fucking looking at me. Staring right into my eyes. "You like sucking my cock?" he asks, and the girl moans around it enthusiastically. My breathing accelerates, and I find that my feet are planted to the floor. I can't move.
"I knew you were a kinky girl," he says, returning his attention to her. He cards his fingers through her long hair, and I wonder what that would feel like. His big, warm hand tugging at my hair while I sucked him off.
He wraps his fist around the base of his cock and pulls back from her mouth. She really does fucking love it; she whimpers and leans forward, trying to find his cock again.
"Not so fast, baby," Edward says, steadying her with a hand on her cheek. "You want me to cum like this? Or do you want me to fuck you?" She moans and shifts on her knees, obviously turned on by his dirty talk. Why wouldn't she be? Everything about him is fucking sexy.
Edward crouches down, kisses her on the lips, and asks her again. "I'll get you off either way, but you have to decide what you want. Do you wanna fuck me, baby? Or just oral tonight? What do you wanna do?" he asks her, dropping kisses down her neck and shoulder. I think he's playing with her tits, too, but I can't really see from this angle.
"Fuck, Edward," she moans. "I want you to fuck me. Do you have... do you have condoms?" she asks, and I have to bite my tongue to keep from laughing. As if Edward fucking Cullen would ever be caught without a condom.
"Yeah, baby girl, of course I do," he says, standing up again. He strokes his cock twice, just inches from her face, before he pulls her up to her feet. He leads her forward, lays a palm flat between her shoulder blades and pushes her until she bends over. She rests her elbows on the bed and Edward moves to his bedside table, reaching into the drawer for a condom. He rips it open and slides it down his shaft expertly.
When he pumps his dick a few times, my fingers twitch. I want to be the one doing that. My cock is fucking painfully hard, and I press my palm against the front of my pajama pants to adjust it. Edward's fucking looking at me again, his cock in his fucking hand, and he sees what I'm doing. He doesn't stop. I don't stop.
After a few seconds, though, the girl whines and Edward turns back to her. He starts to pull her hips up, position her, and then he changes his mind.
"Come on, up on the bed," he says gently, propelling her forward. She crawls up on her hands and knees and he guides her forward, until she's closer to the headboard. It takes me a second to realize that he's moving her so I can watch. So that he can watch me. He doesn't want his back to me when he-
"Oh fuck!" she shouts, as Edward slides into her without another word. He didn't even fucking finger her or anything, but maybe girls don't need that shit first. I don't know anything about pussy.
She's moaning and talking, babbling really, but I'm not paying attention to her. Instead I'm focused on Edward, the muscles of his ass clenching as he thrusts into her. He stops thrusting and just rests a hand on her back, making her wait. He's still wearing a fucking shirt, but he pulls it off hastily and tosses it over the side of his bed.
Then he starts fucking her in earnest. I tune her out and listen only for Edward's grunts, his moans, the murmured words that get me all worked up. I slide my hand down inside my pants and give in to the urge to jerk off, setting my rhythm to match Edward's. He's a good lover, that much I can tell; he's so in tune with her, giving her everything she wants. I think she cums once, pretty quickly, because he slows down and strokes her back after one particularly loud screaming fit.
When his speed picks up again, so does mine, and I imagine myself on Edward's bed, on my hands and knees, filled with his cock. He could be rougher with me. He could push and spank and pull my hair, and I would love every fucking second of it. He could pump his hips into me so fucking fast, and I would take everything he had to give. I would be so fucking good for him.
"You like getting fucked?" he asks her, ramping up the dirty talk. Except when I let my eyes drift up his body, glistening with sweat, to see his face... he's looking at me. I don't hear the girl answer, but I mouth the word "yes."
"You like getting fucked hard, don't you?" he says. Still looking at me. He's watching my hand moving desperately beneath the thin flannel pants I'm wearing. I suddenly want him to see, to know what he does to me. I don't give a fuck about lines anymore, or what's too gay for him, because if Edward didn't want this he wouldn't be talking to me right now. I push my pants down off my hips, pull my erection out of the elastic waistband, and let him see how fucking hard I am for him.
"God, fuck, fuck, fuck!" Edward shouts, pounding into the girl, still looking at me. "Cum with me!" he begs.
This is so fucked up, because I don't even know who he's talking to. But my body doesn't care that it's fucked up; it responds to Edward's command. The intensity of my orgasm rocks me, and I can barely hold myself up as I pump into my own hand, trying to catch all the cum so I don't make a mess on Edward's floor.
When I come to my senses, I look back at them. The girl was screaming too, I think, and she's collapsed on the bed. Edward is on top of her, holding his weight up on his elbows. He's kissing her softly, all over her shoulders and the back of her neck. Whispering to her now, softer words that I can't hear.
It's all for her. Even if he wanted me to watch, wanted me to cum, that's all I get. She gets all of it, everything, and I just get that little piece he's willing to share.
I pull my pants up and stumble into the bathroom, washing the cum off my hands. All I can think about are those soft little kisses, his sweet words, his warm body covering her. My hands are shaking as I dry them, and I can feel the tears pooling in my eyes. I want him wrapped around me, I want him to come down with me, take care of me.
I'm hoping I can make it back to my bedroom before I lose my shit completely and start crying. I open the bathroom door wide and come face to face with Edward.
He looks sleepy and satisfied, sexy and sated. I duck my head and turn sideways so he can pass me, and he slips into the bathroom. He pauses in the doorway, reaches out for me, and lays a warm hand on my shoulder.
"Jake..." he says, his voice soft and tentative, but I can't let him see. The tears are starting to fall down my cheeks now and I can't let him fucking see. I twist out of his grasp and bolt down the hallway, just barely making it to the safety of my own bedroom before I can't hold it in anymore. I sob because I'm hurt, and ashamed, and jealous... but mostly because I can't deny it now. I love him, I'm fucking in love with him, and it's going to ruin everything.
A/N: Thanks for all the reviews and love for my boys. To answer a common question: the entire story will be from Jake's POV, you won't hear from Edward unless I do some outtakes or something.
Please let me know what you think of this chapter... I love to hear your theories. How are you feeling about Edward now? What do you think he was going to say to Jake?
Reviewers will get a teaser for Friday's chapter.
***I am a judge in the Eurofornication contest, which is looking for stories featuring Edward in slash or threesome scenarios in Europe. I did a collaboration with SingleStrand (who writes a fuckawesome dirty talking Jasper in her story Hard) as an example/tease for the contest. The story is presented in short segments and will update twice a day... it stars Bella, Edward, and a hot, Swiss, bisexual Emmett. Go check out What Happens in Zurich on the Eurofornication page and put it on Author Alert so you get notified when all the contest entries are posted. :) u/2757436/Eurofornication