Seven Years Later...

I'm driving too fast, weaving through traffic, trying to get to the restaurant on time.

The little pink bag is wobbling on the seat beside me, taunting me and my nerves. I think I'd be shaking a little bit too if my hands weren't wrapped tightly around the steering wheel of my new Jetta.

I left the present at home, and had to drive all the way back to pick it up. I'm nervous enough about today, the last thing I want to do is walk in late.

When I get there, finally, I jump out of the car. I'm halfway to the front door before I realize my hands are fucking empty, and I have to walk back to the parking lot to get the little gift bag. I breathe deeply and take a second to steel my nerves.

Gift bag in hand, I make my way back to the restaurant. It's closed to the public, open only for the private party. A baby shower.

I round the corner and look through the large plate glass windows lining the sidewalk. I can see the tables set with party favors and festive little decorations, a huge white cake in the corner, and two servers filling up goblets with ice water.

And I see Edward.

He looks... amazing. He's wearing dark gray trousers and a royal blue sweater. I watch his muscled forearm appear as he pushes the sleeves of his sweater up. I watch as he twists the band on his left ring finger, a nervous habit. I watch as he lays his hands so carefully, so reverently on Leah's belly.

He bends over slightly, grinning at the baby bump.

He looks happy. The happiest I've ever seen him. He looks... like he has everything he could ever want.

My heart swells with emotion, almost too much for me to bear, and I have to look away.

I take another deep breath and make my way to the entrance, ignoring the signs telling me it's closed. I push the door open and walk in, ducking out of the way as a server passes by with a tray full of little sandwiches.

"Excuse me," I tell him, flattening myself against the wall. Edward looks up when he hears my voice, and his eyes meet mine. His eyes light up and his smile stretches even wider.

"Jake!" he says, calling to me, as if I haven't seen him. As if my eyes don't seek him out first in every room I enter.

I wave with my right hand, the one holding the little gift bag, and he rolls his eyes at me. Leah looks up then, knocking Edward's hands away from her belly.

"Jacob, your baby daddy will not leave me alone," she whines, crossing her arms over her chest and resting them on her protruding stomach.

"Sorry, Leah," I tell her, setting the gift bag gently on the table behind her. I duck down to kiss her cheek before circling around her to pull Edward into my arms. "I should've warned you that he was handsy," I tease, tightening my grip on him and leaning in for a hello kiss.

"I'll show you handsy," he growls, wrapping both arms around my waist. The tone of his voice pushes the kiss from hello to hell yes a little too quickly, and I lose myself in him. He shaved just before we left the house this morning, and I can still smell the minty aftershave he used.

Leah has to break us apart.

"Jesus, get a room, fuckers," she says, punching me in the arm.

"C'mon, Leah, language. The baby can hear you, you know," I remind her. She shrugs and turns away from us, snapping her fingers at a server passing by with another tray of hors d'oeuvres.

"Look, if you guys wanted a cursing-free pregnancy, you should've asked little Suzie Sunshine to be your surrogate," she informs us, gathering up a few mini quiches and stacking them on a napkin in her hand.

Alice is here, somewhere, buzzing around and getting everything set for the party-she manages this restaurant and offered to throw the shower for us. She and Jasper have become great friends to both of us, but they've been busy trying to have a child of their own.

When Edward and I decided to have a kid, we talked about a dozen different options. Public adoptions, private adoptions, surrogates, egg donors... the different ways to make a family are kind of dizzying.

In the end, we decided that we want what a lot of traditional straight couples want; a kid that looks a little bit like each of us.

My sister Rebecca agreed to donate an egg; that way we could fertilize it with Edward's sperm and get a reasonably close genetic mash-up of the two of us. Rebecca offered to carry the baby, too, but she lived in Hawaii; moving wasn't feasible for either of us, and we didn't like the idea of being so far away from her while she was pregnant.

We were discussing our dilemma after Thanksgiving dinner at my aunt's house two years ago when a tipsy Leah graciously offered to be our surrogate. Her actual words were something like, "You two can put that kid in me if you want."

Her drunken offer at Thanksgiving didn't inspire a lot of confidence, but she called us a week later and expressed a sincere desire to help. She'd been my closest cousin growing up, and we'd always had each others' backs.

It has been long road of discussing, negotiating, wrestling with insurance, finding the right doctor, and waiting patiently for test results.

But it did happen. It's real. We're gonna have a little baby girl in two months, one who's a little bit Edward and a little bit me. Leah's done an amazing job of keeping her safe and helping her grow. As much as she grumbles and complains, I know she's been extremely careful and conscientious, even when it comes to Edward's obsession with organic food.

"You ready for this?" Edward asks, lacing his fingers through mine. I survey the room, watching as Alice and her staff finish up the last-minute details. Leah wanders off in search of more mini quiche, and I can spot Edward's parents making their way up the sidewalk. Carlisle's arms are heavily laden with gift bags and Esme's carrying a ridiculously huge package that looks like... like a cake, made entirely out of diapers. Jesus.

"I guess I'd better be, huh? Looks like Nana and Pop-Pop cleaned out Babies R Us," I tease him, using the pet names his parents had decided on months ago.

"Shut up and enjoy it," he says, elbowing me in the side. "I can't believe you forgot Leah's present!" he adds, nodding at the little pink bag I'd left at home.

"I can't believe I didn't get a speeding ticket trying to get back here in time," I tell him.

"You really think she'll accept it?" he asks.

"Either she'll feel pressured from everyone watching her and accept it easily, or she'll throw a huge fucking fit and cause a scene in the middle of our shower. Either way, she's not driving that piece of shit back and forth to the rez anymore," I promise.

Leah had refused any sort of compensation for her efforts; she let us pay her medical bills and buy her some maternity clothes, but that's about it. The car she drives, though-an old Chevy Cavalier-is definitely on its last legs.

I wanted to buy her a brand new car, but Edward talked me out of that plan. He knew she'd flip out if we did that. So I bought a new Jetta and worked on my old car, replacing the tires and the brakes. It wasn't brand new, but it was still about ten years newer than her Cavalier. The little pink gift bag held the keys, a picture of the car, and a note begging Leah to just shut up and take the gift.

"My boys!" Esme squeals, dropping the ridiculous-looking diaper cake on the table next to us. "Nana's here!" she pulls us both into a hug, ruffles Edward's hair and kisses my cheek.

"Hi, Esme," I greet her, grinning at Carlisle as he rolls her eyes behind her back. Edward unloads the gift bags from his arms, lining them up on the table.

"Where is she?" Esme demands, walking off to find Leah. The two women have formed an unusual friendship, spending hours together shopping and having a "ladies' lunch" every time Leah visits us in Seattle.

"Take a deep breath, son. No matter how many men you invited, I'll tell you this: women own baby showers. Get ready," Carlisle says, slapping Edward on the back. Edward reaches out for my hand again and grins as he wraps his fingers around mine.

"I'm ready," Edward says.

"Done," I announce, flopping down onto our bed. Edward is in his boxers, leaning back against the pillows, reading What to Expect for the First Year for the zillionth time.

He closes the book, drops it on his nightstand, and rolls over onto his side to face me. "Are you satisfied now?" he asks, raising an eyebrow.

He wanted to give up on putting away the shower gifts an hour ago, rationalizing that we still have two months before the baby comes.

"Yes, yes I am. Come on, you know that we would've put it off-if we didn't do it today, we would've waited 'til the last minute, and then we would've run out of time. The baby would come home and like, trip over all the glittery pink bags on the floor in her bedroom," I argue.

"She's gonna trip? You think she's gonna walk home?" he teases.

"Yeah, of course. Newborns can walk, right?" I ask, feigning ignorance. "I mean, I've only read that book once, so I probably don't remember. Hold on, let me check." I lean over him, crushing his chest to the bed with mine, and grab the baby book.

"Get off me!" he says, laughing and pushing roughly at my shoulder.

"Hold on! I'm looking it up. Do you think it would be under W for walking? Or E, for Edward's an idiot?" I tease, flipping through the index as he grumbles and squirms underneath me.

Edward manages to get a hand free and pluck the book from my grasp, dropping it back on his nightstand.

"How about G for get the fuck off me?" he says, flipping me over onto my back. He throws one leg over mine and straddles me, leaning forward to press both of my forearms into the bed.

"Truce?" I ask, bucking my hips up lightly against his. He's feeling playful, and playful Edward usually leads to awesome sex.

"Truce," he says, leaning down to kiss me. I think he intends for it to be a sweet kiss, a chaste one, but I capture his lips with mine and tilt my head up for more. It gets hot pretty quickly, and Edward pushes me down further into the bed, aligning us so he can grind his hardening cock against mine.

"That's some fucking truce," he growls, pulling away to kiss down my jaw. He kisses and nips at my neck, scraping his teeth over my Adam's apple before kissing down to the collar of my t-shirt.

"Take it off," I beg him, struggling to free my arms from his grip.

"No," he says, kissing my lips again before pulling away abruptly and flopping down onto the bed beside me. "You do it. Get up and strip for me, do it slowly," he commands.

"Seriously?" I ask, trying not to laugh at his request.

"Yeah, come on. Strip for me," he prods, tugging at my t-shirt. It's a silly request, and I feel stupid doing it, but I roll off the side of the bed anyway. I turn my back to him and cross my arms, grip the hem of my t-shirt, and slide it slowly up my torso.

I do it because even if it makes me feel a little silly, I love that I can turn him on like this. I do it because everything we do together is perfect, even the silly stuff, the awkward stuff, the mortifying moments that every sexually adventurous couple has to deal with at some point.

I do it because we promised each other seven years ago that we would always do what feels good, what feels right for us.

I tease him, lifting my t-shirt up a little and then dropping it again. I twist my neck so I can watch him, and let him see me rub the outline of my hard-on through my jeans.

"You look fucking hot," he tells me, his own hand snaking down inside his boxers.

"Yeah?" I ask, flicking open the buttons at my fly.

"Fuck, Jake," he says. I turn my back to him again, lifting up my t-shirt. I pull it up and over my head, ball it up, and toss it over my shoulder. I sneak a glance back at Edward just in time to see it hit him in the face, and I can't help but laugh.

"Alright, stop teasing. Come here," he demands, tossing my shirt to the floor.

"I thought you wanted me to tease you, baby?" I ask. I push my jeans down over my hips, revealing the tight black boxer briefs that Edward loves to see me in. His groan tells me that he's enjoying this, even if he's impatient now.

I bend over slowly to push my jeans down my legs, lifting one foot at a time to tug them off over my feet. He's so easy to tease-just a little wiggle of my ass and he's up off the bed, flying over to me, pressing his cock against me.

"You like it, don't you?" he asks, wrapping one arm around my waist to pull me upright. His palm skates over my abs, my chest, and up to my shoulder so he can hold me tightly against him. "Showing off for me?"

"I like turning you on," I tell him, pushing back against his erection. "How do you want me?" I ask, reaching up behind me to wrap an arm around his neck. I pull his face to mine so I can plant a rough, deep kiss on his lips, giving him a clue about what I want.

"Come here, bend over," he says, turning us around to face the bed. He walks me forward a few steps and then pushes me down so my hands are flat on the mattress. Slowly, he trails kisses down the back of my neck, my shoulders, my spine, until he gets to the waistband of my underwear. He hooks his fingers in the elastic and pulls them down slowly, inch by inch, covering the cheeks of my ass with little kisses.

Edward's on his knees, behind me, reaching between my legs to tug at my already throbbing cock. He strokes it a few times but leaves me wanting, pulling his hands away all too soon. I can't help but whine when I feel him move away from me.

"Just getting lube, baby," he says, moving the bedside table to pull out supplies. When he returns to me he drops to his knees again and nuzzles his face against my thigh. His slick fingers drag up and down between my cheeks, quickly zeroing in on where I need him.

"Faster," I beg him, pushing back against his hand as he prepares me. "C'mon, I need you."

He pushes another finger inside and I whimper. The stretch is familiar; it's painful but promising, the good kind of hurt that sparks all the right nerve endings in my body. His soft, tender kisses over my hips and thighs contrast with the rough movements of his fingers. No matter how playful, rough, or downright kinky Edward gets, he always keeps me grounded with affectionate little gestures.

"Ready?" he asks, biting playfully at my ass cheek.

"Fuck, yeah," I groan, wincing as his fingers slip out. He stands up, grips my hip, and walks me forward a little.

"Here, put your leg up," he demands, patting the bed in front of me. I lift one leg up and rest my knee on the mattress, opening myself more to him. He strokes my hips, my sides, my back, making me wait. I can feel his cock pressed up against me, sliding through the wetness he's left between my cheeks, and I whine in frustration.

"I told you I was ready, baby," I tell him, pushing back against him. He chuckles and lifts one hand from my body, using it to hold his cock steady as he pushes in slowly, and gently. Even though we've done this a thousand times, even though he prepares me thoroughly, he's still always careful at first.

"God, you're so good, you feel so fucking good," I tell him, panting as he works himself inside. He gets ahead of himself, pushes a little too hard, and I hiss at the sudden intensity.

"Okay, it's okay, sorry," he says, rubbing small circles over the small of my back.

"I'm alright, just a little slower," I tell him, twisting my neck to look back at him. He bends down low to kiss me, holding his cock steady. "Really, babe, keep going," I tell him, wiggling my ass playfully so he knows I'm okay.

He pulls out slowly and drizzles some more lube where we're joined before pushing back in. It's so much better the second time, when my body starts remembering that it actually loves this push and pull. When he finds a rhythm and starts fucking me, my head falls between my arms as I relax and let the sensation take over.

"Jesus, Jake, you're always so fucking warm," he says, his palm flat against my back, between my shoulder blades. He curls his fingers and scratches my skin lightly with his blunt fingernails. I arch my back and he chuckles, asking, "That feel good, baby?"

"So good, so good," I tell him.

"Can I go faster?" he asks, reaching up to curl his fingers around my shoulder. I'm so relaxed now, my body accepting him easily, that my answer is immediate.

"Yes!" I cry, pushing back against him. He laughs, inches us forward on the bed, and props his knee up behind mine for leverage. When he starts fucking me earnestly, I moan and curse and thrash, letting him see how much I love it.

"Fuck me harder, Edward, please," I beg, turning my head to brush my lips against his knuckles.

"Jake, if you talk dirty to me, I'm gonna cum too fast," he pants, digging his fingers into my skin as he complies with my request. That sounds like a fucking challenge to me, and I'm dying to see him lose control.

"I can't help it, baby, I need your cock. I need you to fuck me hard like this, to fill me up," I tell him, gasping for breath as he fucks me relentlessly. "I don't care if you cum too fast. I want it. I want you to cum for me, to cum inside me."

"Fuck, Jake!" he says, slamming into me, grunting as he cums. "Fucking. Cumming."

I drop my head to the bedspread and smile, loving the low, growly tone his voice takes on when he's having a mind-blowing orgasm. I let him fuck me through it, not complaining when he rests against my body while he recovers.

When he pulls away, though, I'm empty and hard and so fucking desperate to get off that I can't stop myself from groaning.

"C'mere, baby," he says, dragging me backwards by my hips. He backs me up until I'm bent over the bed again, with both feet on the floor. I look down and watch Edward sit down, settling on the floor with his back to the bed and his head between my legs. He tilts his head back and smiles at me, winking before he turns his attention to my cock.

I open my mouth to provide some more verbal encouragement, but I can't think of any words. Edward is working me expertly, flicking his tongue against the tip of my cock before he slides it deeper into his mouth.

I know I'm not gonna last when his arm wraps around my thigh and his fingers push inside me again. He coordinates their movements with the bobbing of his head, and it's a matter of seconds before I'm a panting, moaning mess, bucking my hips into his face and cumming down his throat.

When I'm spent, Edward turns his head and lets my cock fall from his lips. I roll to the side, panting and coming down, and Edward climbs up next to me.

"Damn, Cullen," I tell him, reaching over to wipe a drop of cum from his bottom lip. He laughs and kisses the tip of my thumb.

"Love you," he says, lacing his fingers through mine.

"Love you too," I tell him, pulling his hand close and pressing it flat against my heart. "Always."

A/N: What'd you think? Were you happy with their HEA? Please leave a review! This is the end of the road, but leave this on your alerts if you love my boys... I may or may not have some outtakes in the works. Any moments you'd want to see in EPOV? Let me know.

Thanks again to Jeanne, for providing inspiration (words, music, and p0rn) and feedback. Your support made this story what it is!

Thanks to my twin, Laura, for supporting my boys and believing in me and having 9,003 conversations about how this should end, to Amy for WCing with me and giving me feedback, and to Karen, for editing and guiding me, always.

Most importantly, thanks to everyone who took the time to read, review, recommend this story to their friends, or chat with me about it on twitter. It really does mean the world to me, and I can't thank you all enough.

xoxo,

sadtomato