Disclaimer: S. Myer owns all, but what I wouldn't give for a Jasper of my very own-sigh.
A/N- First, Winter's Night won Best Angst in The Slash Awards!~ thank you everyone for voting for the boys ~and Ealasaid77 reviewed Winter's Night on Twislash this past week! Thank you Ealasaid77!
I've been accused of making people cry at work, on a plane, trains, buses, school and in bed, so I want to give some tissue warning, although I think it's only in a few places.
Thank you, thank you for all the reviews and favorites and alerts. The support I've received for this story has warmed my heart! Kisses to all of you!
This story wouldn't be here (neither would my nails) if not for Dannie. She rocks my world. Oh, and she stepped into my vacationing beta shoes this week as well!
Now Edward pov
"**~~**"
If on a winter's night I had been able to say no to him…
"**~~**"
I hadn't heard from him in two days, five hours and forty six minutes.
I had told him to stay away, so why was I surprised when he had actually listened to me? Jasper always did as I asked; he was always willing to do what I needed, whether it was waiting to have sex, or staying up extra late to explain the difference between the battles of Chickamauga and Chattanooga to me. It didn't matter how large or small my request, Jasper always followed through.
It was one of the many things I had loved about him.
The days had been physically exhausting. My body was no longer succumbing to the meds they were giving me, excruciating pain radiated down my legs, wrapping tight around my muscles, squeezing them like a fucking vise grip. The sounds of my screams reverberated throughout the small room, probably scaring the shit out of those in the rooms next to me, but I didn't give a fuck.
It hurt like a mother fucker and I didn't care who knew it.
At first, I actually got excited from the pain, thinking perhaps I was cured, that I was the one-in-a-million boy that had overcome the odds and regained feeling, but the doctors quickly brought me back to reality, crushing any hope the agony had brought me.
They claimed it was 'phantom' pain, my mind tricking me into thinking the nerves in my legs were working, into feeling pain that couldn't possibly exist. There was no reasonable explanation for it, my legs, for all purposes, were fine, completely still and uninjured under the blanket. Yet, all I felt was a burning and twisting that forced me to release words I'm sure my mother never expected to hear me say in her presence.
There was no relief, my body ached and begged to be freed from the pain. They pumped the drugs into me faster, upping the dosage so much that I was barely conscious most of the time. I welcomed the darkness again, the comfort it brought me, the emptiness where there was no pain, no mangled and useless legs, no boy that could never want me again.
The last time I had called him, I hadn't even been able to speak, the only sound I had made had been a weak, pathetic sob. But even without my asking, he broke into song, somehow managing to sooth me with the sad words of days long past, of a yesterday that would be the only happiness I would ever know. When he was done, I'd had barely been able to tell him I had to go, I just…couldn't stay.
I could never be what he wanted or needed anymore, and I used that as my excuse for leaving. Deep down, I knew it was more than that. In the dark recesses of my heart, I knew I blamed him for the accident.
It wasn't like he had been driving. He hadn't even been with me, not physically anyway. Of course, Jasper was always with me, his voice always in my ears, his breath on my lips, his hand in mine, his heartbeat flowing through my veins. It had been like that since I had first seen him, first felt that aura of goodness and warmth that embraced him. I don't think he had any idea how much I fell for him in those first few seconds, the way my heart raced and ached and become completely devoted to every breath he took all at the same time. Every minute I spent with him after that was just confirmation that with him was where I belonged.
And I had belonged with him on New Year's Eve. It was going to be our night. After more than a year of being together, we were finally going to make love, our bodies meeting in a way that we would never share with anyone else.
We were young, foolish and deeply in love.
Had we not planned to be together that night, had he not asked me for that to have been that night of all nights, I would have been home, safely tucked into my bed with my working legs stretched out before me.
But he had asked.
A few weeks before, I had dropped him off at his house after school and after a quick kiss in his kitchen while Alice waited in my car for me, I left him to drive her to her friend's house. Later that night, I lay on my bed, George's voice crooning to me as I attempted to read the latest chapter assignment in "The Sun Also Rises" when Jasper called me, his voice five octaves higher than usual.
"Love, calm down, I can't understand a word you're saying," I interrupted his babbling. He took a few deep breaths and when he spoke again, his voice was back to his husky drawl with only a hint of the girly squeal left in it.
"I said, my parents are going away for New Year's. To Seattle."
"Okay," I replied, not quite sure I was catching on to the hidden meaning.
He sighed, frustrated with my lack of espionage. "Baby, we, you and me, we can be alone."
"Alone?"
Another heavy sigh.
"Jasper, we're alone a lot," I reminded him.
"Yes, I know, but Edward, this is alone. Alone, A L O N E, alone," he repeated in different variations until it sunk in.
"OH!" I yelped, finally catching on. "Alone."
"Light finally dawns," he teased lightly. "So, what do you think? I mean, we've been talking about, ya know…"
It was so fucking adorable how embarrassed he got when we talked about sex when we weren't actually having it. But if his dick was in my mouth, he had no shame in expressing his dirty thoughts to me out loud.
"Having sex? Making love? Fucking?" I whispered, teasing him right back.
"Yes," he said, exasperated. "All of those. So…what do you think?"
"They will be gone all night?" I asked, my hand suddenly finding a hold of my cock through my jeans as I lay on my bed.
"All night," he confirmed, and as I heard him moving around, my cock imagined he was doing much the same as I was, only naked. "Won't be back until late New Year's Day."
"Mmm," I moaned into the phone. "Sounds good. Making love to you all night, then waking up with you in my arms, only to be able to do it again."
"Jesus," he gasped, his voice heavy with need. "Don't say shit like that, baby, making me hard."
"Yeah? Me too," I agreed, my hand putting pressure on my cock. "Should we do it?"
"New Year's? Definitely." I could practically see him nodding, his eyes bright with excitement, his curls bouncing around his face.
"Well that too, but I meant have phone sex."
"Oh." He paused and I heard more movement, then the distinct sound of his door closing. "I like that idea. Can you? Are you alone?"
"Yeah, my parents took Alice out to dinner, I told them I had too much homework."
We had only done it once before, when Jasper had been grounded for staying out too late one night and for skipping school the next day. There was nothing quite like hearing Jasper's slight drawl talk me through masturbation and orgasm, except for having him lay next to me as he did it. Although having him on the phone was a close second.
"What are you wearing?" he asked, his voice dropping even lower. He would have made a fucking hot phone sex operator.
"Jeans and my Abbey Road shirt."
"Take them off," he demanded and I immediately complied. Sitting up, I set the phone down and stripped my shirt off before undoing my jeans and shimmying out of them, kicking them off my bed.
"Now just my underwear."
"Mmmm. Me too, but I have it pulled down. Got my cock in my hand. So hard it aches, baby. Aches for your touch."
"Yeah? My hands or my mouth?" I asked him, already breathlessly, my own cock throbbing at the question. I pushed my briefs down enough to free my erection, pumping it with a loose fist a few times before gripping tighter.
"Hand. Your fingers are so strong from playing the piano, they grip me so tight. Love it when you touch me, stroke me," he murmured into my ear.
"I love touching you," I agreed, my handing sweeping over the head the head of my cock to gather the fluid for lube. "I love watching you when I touch you."
"Yeah?" he sounded surprised, but he wasn't. He knew the sight of him writhing under my touch drove me to the edge quicker than almost anything.
"Yeah, when you lose control, when your hips just go crazy and your body goes all tense. Fuck, so hot," I described, my fingers tightening around my dick. "Wish you were here so you could suck on my nipples."
"Oh fuck," he moaned at the suggestion. He loved my nipples, teasing them, pinching them, and while it felt good, I liked his fascination with my cock much more. "I wish I was there too, lying next to you while you jerked me off."
My hips started thrusting up into my fist, fucking it wantonly, the tingling already beginning to spread low in my groin. If I came so fast just by talking with Jasper, I wasn't going last more than five minutes when we made love.
"I want you, Jasper, I want you so fucking bad," I admitted, my body tensing as I pictured him on the bed next to me, watching me with his fucking intense blue eyes. My balls drew up tight and I desperately wanted to touch them, tug on them, but with the phone in one hand and my cock in the other, they remained neglected.
Biting down on my lip, I released a groan.
"Fuck, baby. You sound so fucking hot making those sounds," he whimpered. "So close, wanna come, baby, gotta come."
"Touch me, Jasper, fuck me, make my body yours forever," I whispered and heard him gasp.
"Fuck, coming," he cried out, a carnal groan escaping him while I pictured his body tensing, his cock releasing his load onto the smooth skin covering his defined abs. The hours Jasper had put in running not only benefited him but me as well, as I was the one that got to ogle the end result of his working out.
"Mmm, that's it, love, come for me. Come all over me."
"Fuck, yeah, yeah," he moaned, his breaths shallow."Your turn, baby. I want to hear you come for me now. Feel me there with you, my hand on your cock, my mouth on your nipples."
"More," I pleaded, my cock throbbing in my hand as my pace increased and I chased my climax. I was in my own world, I could practically feel Jasper's naked body, his heat radiating around me as he jerked me off and whispered in my ear.
"My hand wrapped tight around your cock, feeling its weight in my hand. My fingers playing with your balls, pulling them that way you like, touching your hole."
"More," I begged again, my hand furiously pumping my cock. "Want you, love, want you so bad."
"I want you too, baby. I want to fuck you so hard, feel that tight ass around me, hear you scream my-"
"Fuck," I grunted, my back arching off the bed as my cock pulsed in my hand and erupted, warm cum landing in stripes over my chest. The sweet feeling of my climax was still strong and steady in my body, the nerves still twitching throughout me when I heard the door downstairs open and close. "Oh shit," I whispered into the phone.
"Mmm, what?" Jasper replied, his voice still heavy with his climax.
"Gottago, myparentsjustcamehome," I said urgently as I reached for my tee shirt. My heart clenched at the idea of wiping my cum off me with my Abbey Road tee, but desperate times called for desperate measures. I heard Jasper laughing heartily on the other end.
"Oh my God, classic," he chuckled. "Okay, baby. Call me later. Love you."
"Love you, too. Bye." I went to hit end and paused, putting the phone back to my ear. "Wait! Jas, you there?"
"Yeah?"
"Thanks," I whispered before clicking end and tossing the phone on my bed. "Jesus," I moaned as I brushed the cotton over my sensitive cock, still seeping pleasure when I tucked it back into my underwear.
"Edward? We're back," my mother called out, her footsteps nearing my door. Frantic, I tossed my tee onto the floor and dove for my pants, barely getting them up my thighs when she knocked on my door.
"Just a sec," I answered, hissing when the zipper grazed my semi hard on. I ran a hand through my hair, and then shirtless and breathless, I opened the door to see my mother standing there with a look of patience on her face. "Sorry," I shrugged. "I was just…dancing."
"Dancing?" she raised a brow listening to the song playing. "To Hey Jude?" she asked skeptically.
"Yeah. Love this song," I said, running a hand through my hair.
She glanced around the room. "Get your homework done in between your…dancing?"
Nodding, I glanced at the books piled on the floor next to my bed, clearly unopened. "Yeah, it's all done," I lied.
"Okay, see you in the morning then," she said. Just before she turned to go, she stopped and leaned into my room, inhaling deeply. "Edward, empty your trash, it smells awful in here."
"I will," I promised as she closed the door behind her and I collapsed onto the bed. Picking up my phone, I dialed Jasper again. He was still laughing when he answered.
"Did your mom find you with your cock in your hand?"
"No," I denied. "But she smelled it. Told me I needed to empty the trash."
That started a new round of laughter from Jasper. We hung up about an hour later, my homework still not done, my Abbey Road tee shirt stained with my cum, and with plans to lose my virginity on New Year's Eve.
I had never been more content.
Had he never called me that night, if his parents hadn't planned to go out of town, I wouldn't have been on that road at that hour. I was supposed to work the day shift but someone had asked to switch with me and I had agreed. It put a damper on our night's plans but Jasper didn't mind. By the time I closed up, I was so fucking eager to get to him, to feel him in my arms, to finally have sex, I could barely see straight.
The roads had been covered with a packed down snow and a light sleet was falling when I left work. I had felt the car slip as I pulled out onto the road, but I sped anyway.
It was a Volvo, they were built to handle that shit.
If I hadn't been going to see Jasper, to be with him, I would have taken a different route. I would have been driving slower. I never would have been in an accident.
I would still be able to walk.
Finally, the drugs kicked in and lulled me into the black abyss that I longed for. The darkness claimed me, taking away the pain in my legs and my heart.
In the darkness, the presences were back, some stronger and more secure than before, others still faint and temporary. I swear I felt his presence as well, his warmth and grief striking me hard during the long nights. Though, I don't think he was really there, but rather a ghost of him that my soul had made to keep me company.
When I would wake, my eyes would be heavy with the loss of him and from the tears that constantly threatened to fall. My breaths were as weak and worthless as my legs, my mind full of nothing but thoughts of him no matter how many times I tried to ignore them.
There wasn't anything anyone could do. They couldn't fix my legs, they couldn't change time, they couldn't do anything for me. I know my parents would have done anything to have their able-bodied son back. No one would want the trouble I was going to cause. The bills, the work, the care…all of it.
My parents had stayed with me the first night I was in Forks, but after that, they entrusted my care to my father's colleagues and went home every night. My father began working again, often able to stop in and see me during his work day.
It was the morning of the third day when I was staring out the window, my mother sitting beside me in the chair reading, that my father walked in.
"Edward," he said and I slowly turned my head from the window to him and realized he wasn't alone. There was a young girl by his side. She was petite but with curves, a bright smile, long, dark, wavy hair and eyes so brown they were almost black. "This is Maria, she will be your PT. We are thinking that as soon as the phantom pain is under control, we are going to discharge you and once you are settled in at home, Maria will be by daily to work with you."
Smiling, she held her hand out toward me. "Nice to meet you, Edward."
I sighed heavily, glancing at her hand before finally reaching out with my own and grasping it weakly.
"Feels like you need to start working out," she kidded me and I glared at her. My mother stood and introduced herself, then proceeded to ask a few question regarding equipment Maria would need at the house.
"How are you feeling today?" my father asked me as he looked over my chart. I shrugged and turned back to the window. Outside, the sun strained to shine through the clouds.
I wanted to tell it to give the fuck up, there was no way the clouds would give way to sunshine.
"Edward?" he asked again, waiting.
"The pain seems better. Tired," I mumbled.
"To be expected with the meds you're getting. We're going to try to wean you off those tonight and see how the pain goes. If all goes well, you should be home in a few days." He actually sounded excited.
How could he possibly be excited by having his invalid son home where they would have to care for me twenty-four-seven?
I felt a small hand on my arm and I turned my head. "I'll probably see you in a few days. It was good to meet you, Edward," Maria smiled and patted my arm before leaving, followed closely by my father.
"She seems nice," my mother commented. "Very knowledgeable. And cute too," she added.
"Yeah, because her being cute will matter so much," I snapped. Trying to ignore the look of her hurt on her face as she turned back to her book, I closed my eyes.
When I woke up, I was alone and a light snow was falling outside. My hands reached for my mother's phone on the table. Little did she know it was my lifeline to Jasper, it had been what had kept me going. Until I realized there was nothing he could do for me, singing to me in the middle of the night was not going to make everything alright. There was no cure for what ailed me, inside or out.
The guilt and anger quickly ate at me, like a cancer that masticated throughout my body, soaking through the fibers, hardening them until I felt almost nothing.
But it was late at night, alone in the dark that I felt weak, that the hardening would crack and I wanted to call him, to apologize and beg him to sing to me. I had no doubt he would forgive me, it was who Jasper was.
Clutching the phone in my hand, I let the tears roll down my cheeks, their trail so familiar from the previous nights. My chest would heave as the sobs hit me in waves, the phantom pain in my legs nothing compared to the agony in my chest. There was only one person that could heal me, no doctors or nurses or drugs were going to be able take away the emptiness I dwelled in.
The one soul that could fix me was the one I could no longer turn to.
"Jasper," I whispered, clenching my eyes closed, the tears falling freely. "Why, love…why me, why us," I asked the empty room. I cried as images of a smiling Jasper flashed behind my closed lids, tawny hair and blue eyes shining with mischief. Eventually, I drifted back to sleep, nightmares of screams and blinding lights haunting me.
The next few days were a blur. I was weaned from the meds as the phantom pain faded, and they redid the sensory test on me, the results being slightly worse than they had been first time. My father blamed the strong narcotics still in my system and reminded me that there was a long time before the six months were up.
When my father told me I was being discharged the next day, I should have been excited. I was going home, to my own room, my own bed, surrounded not by strangers, but by family.
I might have been going home but I wasn't going back to my old life. That life had been ruined and left behind on the side of a snowy road. That boy who had left work eager to get to his boyfriend didn't exist anymore.
And the sooner that everyone realized that, the better.
My thoughts were interrupted by Jasper's mother as she walked in and greeted me with a happy voice.
"Morning, Edward. I heard you're going home tomorrow? That's wonderful news, you must be excited."
"Very," I replied, not even bothering to hide the sarcasm.
Ignoring my comment, she looked at my mother. "Esme, I'm going to show you how to change his catheter and move his bowels. His OT will show him when he gets settled at home so he will be able to do it himself, but until then, you will have to do it."
"What? No, no. My mother is not changing…is not doing that," I argued. It was bad enough that Jasper's mother had seen my cock, now she was going to show it to my mother? Simultaneously they both looked at me, twin sympathetic stares as they considered the best way to approach me.
"Honey," my mother began. "It's not like I haven't seen everything before."
I glared at her. "Yeah, when I was four. Why can't dad do it? He is a doctor," I asked hopefully. At least he was another guy, and familiar with the equipment and all.
"Edward," Jasper's mom began, taking a different approach, "your father works some long hours and won't be home all the time. If this needs to be done when he is gone, someone needs to know how to do it. As soon as your OT shows you how to do it yourself then your mother won't have to but until then, it will need to be changed."
Sighing, I didn't acknowledge what she had said. Instead, I turned my head to the side, away from them, refusing to watch them touch me. I felt a cool breeze on my abdomen as my gown was pushed aside, my bare, limp cock resting against my thigh, the tube of the catheter running out of it and into the bag that hung on the side of my bed.
"First, you take his penis in your non-dominant hand, pull it straight and taut, then swab the head with a sterile lubricant. Make sure to press here so the slit opens and then…"
I stopped listening, blocking out the technical terms Mrs. Whitlock used and the way my mother would occasionally ask a question about my cock. My cheeks were hot from the embarrassment, and if I could have felt it, I know my cock was shrinking in fear as well. It seemed hours later when I felt the movement of my gown and knew they were finished.
"You need to watch for signs of infection, any weeping or an inflamed head," Mrs. Whitlock explained to my mother. "Okay Edward, ready to use the bathroom?"
Using the bathroom was always the worst part of the day.
Resigned, I nodded and she called in Emmett, one of the male nurses. They rolled me onto my left side and while Emmett held my right leg up and bent toward my chest, my ass spread and open for them to examine, Mrs. Whitlock began to talk to my mother.
"Be sure to wear gloves and lube your finger, then slowly insert the tip into his anus," she began and I clenched my eyes shut. My heart pounded in my chest as I lay there for them to prod, my body being clinically manipulated. The only person that had ever touched me so intimately had been Jasper. Never had I imagined anyone else would have their finger in my ass, especially not my either of our mothers.
Mrs. Whitlock continued to explain to my mother the importance of regular bowel maintenance to avoid impaction, using enemas and accidents.
"If he has continued accidents, he might have to resort to wearing a diaper," Jasper's mother said quietly, as if I couldn't hear her.
I wasn't sure my life could get any worse.
I was seventeen, in the prime of my life, and I had to worry about wearing a fucking diaper.
Burying my head in my pillow as much as I could, I hid my cheek as a tear ran down it.
"It will probably take a few minutes to stimulate him, then get him to the toilet as quick as you can. Once he is able to do it himself, he can get himself onto the toilet and stimulate himself, then sit and wait until his bowels move. If they don't begin to empty about ten minutes later, you might need to stimulate again. The entire process can take up to an hour, so be sure to leave plenty of time. It's also best if it is done about the same time every day," Mrs. Whitlock said as Emmett placed my leg back down and rolled me onto my back. He disconnected my urine bag and then put my arm over his shoulder and his other arm went under my back before lifting me from the bed and carrying me to the bathroom to sit me on the toilet. After making sure I was comfortable enough, he gave me a small smile.
"You all set for a bit?" he asked before walking out. Tears dampened my cheeks as I nodded. He paused before leaving. "Hey, it'll be okay. You'll be doing this by yourself at home, don't worry."
A sob caught in my throat when I refused to let it escape at his kind words. With a sympathetic smile, he walked out and closed the door behind him, leaving me alone and out of view. I stared at my pale feet on the tiled floor and pushed the gown aside to see my calves. They were ghostly white, my skin not having nearly the color that Jasper's did. Even after living in Forks for a few years, his flesh had still maintained a beautiful honey hue. Inspecting them further, I noticed my calves seemed thinner, the muscles going to waste in their unused state. Was it possible that they would show the effects so soon after the accident? Sighing, I covered them back up.
I sat on the toilet, hoping my body and gravity were doing their job until there was a knock on the door.
"You okay, Edward?" my mother asked.
"Yeah," I sighed. "A few more minutes."
"Have you gone?" she asked, opening the door without asking. They stood there, watching me expectantly.
"I think so," I mumbled. Sitting there on the toilet in my hospital gown, my filthy hair plastered to my head, my ass and back exposed as I tried to shit while my mother and Mrs. Whitlock watched was the most humiliating experiences of my life.
Even more humiliating than coming in less than thirty seconds when Jasper had given me my first blow job.
"It's just normal bodily functions, Edward" my mother said, catching onto my embarrassment. "We all do it."
My head snapped up and I didn't care if she saw the streaks on my cheeks. "Yes, we all do it; only some of us don't have to do it with a fucking audience watching now, do they? Or have someone else's finger in their ass in order to it," I snarled at her, my eyes narrowing into a glare. My mother looked shocked and embarrassed. She went to speak, but Mrs. Whitlock stopped her.
"No, don't, Esme. It's completely understandable, and his reaction is totally normal," she defended me. "Why don't we give him some more privacy? Edward, when you're done, just call, I'll be right here." She ushered my mother out and then closed the door again.
When I was alone, I put my elbows on my knees and buried my face in my hands, the tears coming a bit faster. As a teenager, I was used to raging hormones and being ruled by emotions, but the conflict of emotions inside me was overwhelming.
Pity, embarrassment, hate, anger, guilt, grief, loneliness…
I felt each one just as intense as the next, some for only seconds, others felt like I would have them for the rest of my life. Helpless to wade through them all, to make sense of any of them, I let them overpower me, ruling my decisions and thoughts.
Deep down, I knew my mother was only trying to help. I understood her need to be prepared, to know what do if I needed it, but she had no idea how difficult it was for me to give up control over the simplest of things, such as going to the bathroom.
Taking a shower.
Dressing myself.
Things that people, including myself, had taken for granted. Never again would I feel the need to use the bathroom. For me it would become a scheduled daily event, sticking my finger up my ass would become part of my routine, like shaving or brushing my teeth. If I was going to have a finger up my ass, I wanted it to be because I was going to be thoroughly fucked, not to use the toilet.
Taking a few deep breaths, I sat up straight and wiped my eyes with some tissue before calling out to them.
"I think I'm done."
The door slowly creaked open and Mrs. Whitlock poked her head in before slipping through the opening and closing it behind her. She kneeled in front of me, covering my hands with hers.
"Edward, I want to apologize. I know this must be so hard for you, and sometimes I forget that the patient is not…well, not just another patient. I know it can't be easy to have your best friend's mother touching you so…intimately. I tried to make you more comfortable by being a bit more clinical so I didn't embarrass you, but it turns out I did that anyway."
I kept my eyes trained to the tiled floor.
"Everything you're feeling, it's all completely normal. I know this is a huge change for you, but it does get better, I swear. You will be more independent soon, and you won't have to rely on your mother or anyone else to move you or help you with personal things."
She leaned in and put her arms around me, which was awkward considering I was still sitting on the toilet.
"Thanks, Mrs. Whitlock," I mumbled into her shoulder before pulling back.
"Now, you should probably take a shower before you leave, so you don't have to take one until the OT visits your house and shows you how."
I nodded hesitantly. "Okay," I whispered, wiping my cheeks.
"Do you think you can wipe yourself while I get Emmett to help you shower?"
"Yeah, I think so," I nodded. She ruffled my messy hair and stood up.
"I'll be right back," she said and walked out, closing the door behind her. After I cleaned myself off with the moist wipes, there was a knock on the door and Emmett opened it up.
"You decent?" he joked as he walked in. "Need a shower, eh?"
"Yeah, it's been awhile, I'm pretty ripe," I tried to joke back.
He shrugged his large shoulders. "No big, I'm sure I've smelled worse at the gym." He moved to my side, easily scooping me up into his arms, lifting me and placing me in the heavy duty plastic chair sitting near the back of the shower.
"Take your gown off," he instructed as he closed the door tight then started the water, angling the spray away from me while I reached behind my neck and untied the gown. Sliding it off my arms, I tossed it onto the floor. "I'm going to slide your cat out, okay?" Without waiting for my response, he gripped my flaccid cock while pulling the tubing out and tossing it into the trash.
"Want me to show you how to shower?" he offered.
"Yeah, please."
Smiling, he took the shower hose down. "If you don't have a lower one at your house, you can just leave it hanging so you can reach it. Probably be easier if you have a bathroom that just you use so that you can leave the chair in it. Have your parents discussed making the house more wheelchair friendly?"
He tested the temperature of the water and then ran it over my legs, gradually moving it higher. While I was still embarrassed as fuck to be naked in front of a guy that wasn't Jasper, I was thankful that at least it wasn't my mother. The water was hot, steam circled up and around us quickly as he moved the hose around to my back.
"Not really. I've been kinda out of it with the pain meds," I finally answered. The water felt relaxing, it was the first shower I'd had since I had left for work on New Year's Eve and I was amazed at how such a simple thing could feel so uplifting. Tilting my head back, he ran the water thoroughly over my hair, soaking it before putting the showerhead back in the holder.
"They should definitely redo the bathroom and kitchen; those are the hardest areas of a house for a wheelchair. Reaching things like dishes and the microwave, ya know? Showers are easier if they are big enough for you to wheel your chair up to it to get into the shower chair. The OT will go through all that stuff with you." He reached around me and grabbed some soap off a ledge. "Easier to use the gel stuff, bars slip and if they fall out of reach, you're shit outta luck. Use one of those puffy things too. I know they're kind of girly, but they're easier to grip. Make sure you clean your legs well, even your feet. You're going to sweat differently now, so you want to make sure you don't get irritated. You'll want to shower every few days, but you probably won't have to do it every day."
I nodded and watched him soap up my legs, amazed that he was practically man-handling me and I didn't feel a God damn thing. Methodically, he moved up my legs until he was at my hips where he squeezed the sponge onto my dick before taking it into his hand and lathering it up even more, moving the sponge under it and around my balls. He moved my legs further apart and cleaned between them.
I prayed like hell that I wouldn't get hard.
Suddenly, I panicked. I felt my cheeks blushing just at the thought of asking a virtual stranger about my future, but the topic was not one I wanted to discuss with my father or some OT stranger. Not that Emmett was a friend, but he was a guy, and one that had helped me on a daily basis. I only hoped the answer to my question would give me some small glimmer of hope in my miserable existence.
"Um, can I ask you a question," I said, closing my eyes so I could pretend his hands weren't on my cock.
"Shoot," he said, thankfully moving the sponge to my chest.
"What about…um…" I stopped and cleared my throat, "sex?"
He smiled but kept working. "What do you mean? Can you have it?" he asked, glancing at me as he ran the soapy sponge over my shoulders. "Lean forward a bit."
Biting my lip, I leaned forward. "Yeah, can I have sex?"
He tossed the sponge onto the ledge and grabbed the shampoo, pouring some onto his hand. "It's different for everyone with a SCI. I don't know exactly where your injury is, but it's probably not entirely impossible. And it might not be exactly what you were doing before. You will need to be careful though."
"What do you mean?" I asked, leaning my head back so he could lather up my hair. His touch was far from Jasper's but it was nice to have someone touching me in way that didn't involve catheters or needles.
"Getting hard might be difficult, and if you do get hard, you probably won't feel it. Sometimes guys need Viagra to help them get an erection."
Viagra at seventeen. Fucking great.
"Ejaculating can be dangerous too. Depends on your injury though."
"Jesus," I muttered, closing my eyes. "Can it get any worse?"
He grabbed the shower head and turned the water back on, letting it warm up before moving it toward me. "Why don't you rinse, see if you can move around okay."
I took the hose from him and followed the same path he had, starting at my feet I sprayed my legs, slowly working up to my hips. Avoiding his eyes, I grabbed my cock and pulled it up so I could rinse my balls and between my legs, just as I would have in the shower at home. Then I moved the water over my abs, chest and around to my shoulders.
"Ya know, they say that sex can be really good for paraplegics. If you can get hard, you can still enter a girl and given your condition, she'd have to ride you, which is a pretty nice view, if you get my drift," he said quietly, wiggling his eyebrows.
I snorted at the mention of a girl and tilted my head back to rinse out the shampoo, running my hand through it several times until it felt squeaky clean.
"Looks good," he said, inspecting my work. "You know, Edward, there are other ways than intercourse to get a girl off."
Blushing, I nodded. While I knew nothing about getting a girl off, I was a pro at getting Jasper off without intercourse.
"Done?"
"I think so," I said, handing him the shower head. He checked me over, making sure I was rinsed off and then handed me a towel.
"Dry what you can reach and I will do the rest."
Rubbing the towel along my legs, I worked my way up. When I handed it to him, he dried my back and then tossed the towel onto the floor.
"Do you have any clothes or do you have to wear a gown?"
"I don't know, my mom might have something."
He opened the door a bit and I heard him asking my mother. There was movement and then he appeared with my plaid flannel pajama pants and my Abbey Road tee shirt. The sight of it brought tears to the edges of my eyes. It was something so…me. My body had changed, my mentality had changed, but my clothes hadn't. It was as if my old life was meeting my new one for the first time.
"Beatles fan, eh?"
"Yeah."
"They're cool. No underwear," he sighed. "But you've got a cat in anyway, so probably better." He lifted me from the shower chair back to the toilet where he helped me dress. Dressing was hard, it took a lot of fucking effort, but in the end, I realized Mrs. Whitlock was right, that eventually, I would be able to do these things for myself.
When Emmett carried me out to the room, I actually felt slightly human again. I was bathed and in clean clothes. I'd even been able to brush my teeth and use deodorant. Before he left, Emmett gave me a fist bump and leaned down.
"You have any more questions about you know what, page me," he said, handing me a crumpled piece of paper with his number on it.
"Thanks," I said sincerely. My mother sat in the chair and waited until Emmett left before looking directly at me.
"You look better."
I wanted to say I felt better, and I guess in some small way I did, but my heart still ached with an unbearable pain. Having a shower and clean hair felt good, but it didn't take away Jasper's absence. Instead of replying, I just nodded.
Mrs. Whitlock came back in after Emmett had left, and I sighed at the new catheter tube in her hand.
"Esme, you want to give this one a try?" she asked, holding the tube up.
"Sure," my mother said, standing. When I felt her cool hands lifting my tee shirt, I turned my head toward the window and closed my eyes. I couldn't feel it, but I knew they had pulled my cock through the opening in my pants and were preparing it for the catheter once again.
Squeezing my eyes shut, I ignored them, their voices and movement, the fact that they were touching me and concentrated on a hazy blue sky over wheat blowing in the wind.
Apparently taking a shower and being humiliated was enough to exhaust me and I fell asleep, only partially waking up when my mother said she was leaving and when dinner arrived. I left the tray untouched on the table.
Food was the last thing I wanted.
What I was wanted was unattainable, and yet only a week before I had wanted so much out of my life; finish high school, go to college, have a career I enjoyed, perhaps one of playing the piano or maybe a music teacher.
But more than anything, the one thing that had mattered to me above and beyond school or career or even family, was to be with Jasper. I had never anticipated anything other than a long life with him by my side. Between us, I was the practical one, the planner, the one that made lists and double checked everything. Jasper was ruled by his emotions, he was spontaneous and carefree. But I had a secret, one
I had been ashamed to tell Jasper, for he would laugh his ass off if he knew the truth.
I often daydreamed about our future together.
Not just having sex with him, which I dreamt about a lot, but also all the stupid things that people in love think about.
In class, I'd stare out the window and imagine us walking through a park and doing silly things watching street performers while we ate hotdogs.
I saw Christmases near a fireplace with the lights from a tree twinkling as he opened the perfect gift from me.
I saw myself walking through the door after a long day at work and Jasper's bright smile greeting me right before his lips met mine, taking away the stress of the day, replacing it with his warmth and love.
Mostly, I saw us standing before a minister, our hands clasped as we exchanged heartfelt vows. I even knew what color tie would look best on Jasper and what flavor our cake would be. Often my imagination was so vivid that I could even see the golden summer sun reflecting in his hair right before we were pronounced husband and husband.
These would be the images that would haunt me for the rest of my life. Images of things no longer possible, even in my daydreams. There would be no walks in the park for me, no walking through the door after work or standing before a minister.
Those images of happiness had been replaced by my reality, one of wheelchairs and physical therapy.
Ones of me alone with no Jasper by my side.
My sleep was restless, his presence haunting my dreams, the grief and sadness of it pushing me to the edges of consciousness several times. Uselessly I clawed my way through the dark, desperately trying to reach out to his presence, if only to take away his sadness for a few seconds. The anger and blame I had placed on him temporarily brushed aside as I struggled to open my eyes.
Thick and heavy with a broken sleep, my eyes opened slowly, but in time to see a shadowy figure walking out of my door, taking the warmth with it.
"Jasper," I whispered to the empty room. "Come back…."
As the tears began, I realized it was for the best. My heart tightened with the anger and rage I felt toward everyone, including him.
"**~~**"
My father pulled his Volvo into our driveway and I shifted uncomfortably in the back seat, glancing around the neighborhood nervously.
"Home sweet home," my mother exclaimed as she undid her seatbelt.
It had been a long morning spent with doctors and nurses as they prepared me and my family for my discharge. I had been given strict restrictions on my activities, instructions on the meds I had to take and therapies I was to expect. Finally, after agreeing to their demands, Emmett lifted me from my hospital bed and into a wheelchair for the first time.
It was comfortable enough, the leather back supportive but flexible. Emmett adjusted the footrest to the right height, placing my sneakered feet on it, contorted in a way that couldn't possibly be comfortable, but I it's not like I could feel them to tell. My father stood behind me after I was settled with his hands on my shoulders.
Sadly, I ran my hands over the smooth, metal handrims on the outside of the wheels. I watched the foreign motion of my hands over the metal, testing the movement.
It was a feeling I was going to have to get used to.
Beside me, my mother waited, holding my bag as she chatted with Mrs. Whitlock. Finally, the paperwork we'd been waiting on was completed and I was free to leave.
Jasper's mother walked over and gave me a hug. "Don't shut him out," she whispered in my ear. "You'll need him."
Stunned, I could only nod and avoid her eyes as she moved away. My father leaned over my shoulder.
"Ready?" he asked, smiling, going to push my chair.
"I can do it," I said shortly, shrugging his hands away and gripping the handrims with my own. With a heavy sigh, I pushed the wheels forward, surprised at how easily the chair moved with only a bit of effort. Pushing it again, I wheeled myself out the door and clumsily turned left toward the elevators, only slightly aware the cheers and claps and good luck wishes from the nurses as they watched me leave.
Sniffling behind me, my mother wiped her tears as she watched her newly disabled son in his wheelchair for the first time. My father thanked everyone as we passed them, saying he'd see them soon.
Getting into the car had been a challenge, but between my father and me, we had managed. Then he folded up my chair and put it in his trunk along with my small bag before getting behind the wheel and driving us home.
The house looked the same as it had the last time I'd left it with the exception of one change.
"When did you have time to build a ramp?" I asked my father, surprised. It led from the driveway to the end of our porch, where the railing had been removed. It looked sturdy, with thick wood and handrails; it was even stained to match our house.
"I didn't," he replied, turning to me. "Jason Whitlock did."
I shouldn't have been surprised. He owned a small construction company and he and my dad were friendly. It only made sense that he would be the one my father would ask to help with the changes to the house.
As if he heard me, my father continued, "I didn't even ask. I just came home one day and found him and Jasper here working on it. They finished it in two days. Came back the next to take the measurements for the-"
He kept talking but I had stopped listening after he'd said Jasper. Jasper had been to my house when I wasn't, working on something for me, to make my life easier.
I should have felt glad, happy he'd been there but I didn't. Instead I wondered if he had done it because he felt guilty and building the ramp had helped relieve some of that feeling.
"…ready?"
Not waiting for my reply, my dad opened my door, the wheelchair already waiting for me. Using the door and my father's shoulder, I pulled myself from the car to the chair, once again brushing his hands away when he went to push me.
My hands went to the rims and I slowly pushed myself toward the house, ignoring the few neighbors that stood near their doors and windows to watch the cripple arrive home.
I wheeled myself up the ramp to the front door, where I faced my first of what I knew would be many obstacles. How the fuck was I supposed to open the door, hold it and get inside all at once? My mother ran up and grabbed the door, opening it.
"I can do it," I snarled before pushing past her and into the house. They followed closely behind me.
The furniture in the living room had been rearranged so there were wider spaces between the couches and chairs, the small area rugs had been removed, leaving the shiny wood floor exposed. I glanced around into the kitchen, which look unchanged and then pushed myself to the bottom of the stairs. When my wheels hit the bottom step, I looked longingly to the top of them.
Less than two weeks before I could bound up those very same steps, taking them two by two.
My mother set the bag down and walked to my side. "We moved your room downstairs," she offered quietly.
"Where?" I asked, looking up at her. I used to look down at her, standing a full six inches taller than her.
"Your father's office. We moved all your furniture, clothes, everything. There isn't a closet in there yet, but we're having one built."
The anger and resentment crumbled a little at her words, their thoughtfulness and generosity chipping away at the cold emotions I harbored. I glanced down the hall, which barely looked wide enough for my chair, toward his office…now my bedroom.
"Why don't you get settled in, call us if you need anything. We'll call out for dinner. Alice should be home in a few hours," my mother called out.
My father gave me a pat on the back as I past him on the way down the hall. My arms brushed the wall as when I released the rims to grip them again, but I fit down the hall and after banging into the doorjamb a few times, managed to turn into my new bedroom.
Only it wasn't new. They had managed to set it up almost the exact same way it had been upstairs. Even the clutter on my dresser was the same.
Including my favorite picture of Jasper and me.
Stretching, I reached up to touch the picture, to trace his beautiful, rosy lips but it sat too far back on the dresser and no matter what angle I tried, I couldn't reach it.
Jerking my hand back like I'd been burned, I spun the chair around, my chest constricting more with each breath. Frantically, I looked around my room for a distraction and found my eyes going to my laptop. There was no desk chair, so I wheeled up to the desk and booted up the laptop, opening iTunes once it was running.
Not paying attention to the song selected, I clicked play and "I Wanna be Your Man" started. A smile almost crossed my lips until I realized it was the song I'd been dancing to before I had left for work the night of the accident.
Rage overwhelmed me, my heart pounded erratically in my chest and I slammed my laptop closed and pushed myself back from the desk, only to bump into my bed.
"FUCK!" I screamed. Spinning around, I beat my bed with my fists, my pillows bouncing with each blow my mattress absorbed. Irrational and fucking pissed off, I beat my mattress until I was out of breath and exhausted. When my arms ached, I backed up and went over to the window. The bay window was larger than the one I'd had in my old room and overlooked the backyard. Parking the chair in front of it, I stared out at the pool.
Images of a sleek body moving through the blue water struck me, I could almost feel the chill of the air on wet skin and the heat of his body unexpectedly near mine. Unable to resist, my eyes drifted back to the picture on my dresser.
It had been taken on Jasper's birthday about a year and a half before. He had celebrated with his family early and then joined mine for a barbeque and swimming. Alice had been taking a photography class and was snapping pictures like crazy. She insisted on getting an action shot of Jasper and I doing cannonballs, but after she had taken one of us sitting on the edge of the pool, Jasper's arm slung around my shoulders. After dinner, my parents and Alice had gone inside, leaving Jasper and I alone in the pool. The mid summer sun was low in the sky, casting long lines of oranges through the leaves of the trees while Jasper and I floated in the water, arguing about what the best Beatles album was.
I couldn't believe he questioned my knowledge of The Beatles.
When I had teased him about a reference he made to WoW, he tipped over the raft I was on. As I pushed up through the water, shaking my head, I heard his laughter. Suddenly, he stopped and was just staring at me. Self consciously, I ran a hand over my face and through my hair.
"Something on my face, man?" I asked. He didn't reply, he just continued to stare at me, really intensely, with his bottom lip between his teeth. Slowly he moved toward me, a feral look in his eyes, one of pure hunger and need. "Jasper, you're freaking me out," I half joked. Every two steps back I took, he took one forward, stalking me in the contained area, gradually backing me into a corner.
Was it because I hadn't gotten him a present?
"Jasper, sorry about the present, dude, I'll get one tomorrow, I swear," I promised, my voice low and husky from… the water. My promise didn't seem to matter, if anything, his eyes darkened at the sound of my voice. When my back pressed up against the cement lip of the pool, I stopped, crouching down almost on my knees as he neared me. He stopped less than a foot from me, so close I could feel his body heat and hear his heart pound unreasonably in his chest. Even with the raw look in his darkened eyes and the way his chest was heaving, I was anything but scared.
His erratic heartbeats matched my own; both our breaths were quick and shallow, and our tongues darted to nervously lick our lips.
I'd known there was something between Jasper and I for a long time, but I had pushed the unfamiliar strong feelings aside, dismissing them as the beginning bonds of a strong friendship, something I'd never had but had always yearned for.
Little did I know it was love.
There was something tangible about the way I felt about jasper. Sometimes I felt as if I could reach out and touch what we had, wrap it around us both.
"I don't care about the present," he finally murmured.
"I just didn't know what to get you," I mumbled an excuse. He moved even closer, if either of us took a deep breath, our chests would touch. My hands were at my side, making small circles uselessly in the water. He put his hands on the cement behind me, caging me in his loose embrace. With a final glance toward my house, he slowly leaned his head toward me, tilting it ever so slightly. My eyes widened.
"Please don't hate me," he whispered right before he pressed his lips to mine. I gasped, my body reacting to his touch with charges of energy, similar to the ones I felt when we weren't touching, only a million times stronger. His lips were surprisingly soft and felt cool from the water, and tasted of chlorine and barbeque sauce.
I'd never tasted anything better.
What did it all mean? I was sixteen and hadn't had many friends before Jasper, but I knew friends didn't kiss like that. I had only kissed one person, and that had been Bella.
I knew one thing for certain…her kisses had nothing on Jasper's.
It wasn't that he was a better kisser, although he was, it was something else entirely. An encompassing feeling that I had never felt with Bella, one that not only made my lips tingle, but every other part of me tingle as well, including my cock. Had I been standing, my knees would have most definitely been weak.
The fact that I liked kissing Jasper, and that I pretty much wanted to do nothing but kiss Jasper forever, answered what I had questioned for so long.
I was gay.
Beginning to panic, I went to push him away, but instead found myself reaching for his hair, fisting the curls I had secretly admired. Testing my reaction, he brushed his lips back and forth over mine.
Each time my heart skipped a beat, and then proceeded to continue pounding.
When he released a soft moan, I tilted my head a bit more, encouraging more of his beautiful sounds. After a few more tender sweeps of his lips over mine, he pulled away, keeping his eyes closed, fearing my rejection.
Only I didn't reject him. My eyes gazed at his face, suddenly no longer just Jasper, but a different Jasper, a beautiful Jasper.
My Jasper.
Tentatively, I reached out, the tip of my index finger tracing the lips that had bravely touched mine. His breath hitched and he opened his eyes, their normal sky blue stormy with desire. Gazing at me, he stayed perfectly still while my fingers mapped his face, touching all the features I had longed to feel.
For so long I had denied what I had wanted, I had denied he was anything more than a friend. But there in my pool on a warm summer night, he had taken a chance, risked our friendship to explore what we might become.
Silently, I watched the mixture of emotions in his eyes, the confusion and excitement, each one passing briefly before finally settling on what could only be defined as love.
"Edward," he began, his voice barely audible, "I never…"
Before he could continue, I released his hair and wrapped my hand around his neck, pulling his lips back to mine. The kiss never deepened, our tongues remained in our own mouths, but we both released heady moans and he inched forward until his weight was pinning me to the side of the pool, the rough cement scraping my back. His hands slid along the edge until they rested on my sides, holding me loosely but firmly.
When I felt his erection press against my hip, I groaned and broke the kiss. My fingers fumbled in his hair, grasping, clutching, anything to keep him close, to make him do that again. Panting, he put his forehead to mine, his eyes skimming my face, always focusing on my lips before he would rip his gaze away with effort.
He tried to speak again. Shaking my head, I stopped him. It wasn't that I thought he would ruin the moment, it was more that there was nothing he could say that would change my mind.
I wanted him.
In every way, I wanted him. More than I had ever wanted anything in my life.
"Don't," I said, nuzzling his cheek with my nose. "Just stay like this."
"If you insist," he teased, his voice gravely with the desire he was attempting to contain. Only I felt his desire, and it was hard and rubbing along my own. We stood almost still with only small movements of our bodies, a caress, twitch or graze, each one leading to a soft moan. "Jesus, Edward," he said quietly.
Once we had touched, it was if we couldn't get enough of each other, but our time was limited. We were both aware we could get caught at any second, the darkness only partially hiding our close position. For long moments, we just held each other in a tangle of experimental touches and brief kisses along damp, cooled skin.
"Was that your first kiss?" I asked, a smile teasing the corners of my mouth. Blushing, he looked away and nodded. "And?" I prompted, more than thrilled I had been the first person to touch his lips.
"It was amazing and I wanna do it again. As. Soon. As. Fucking. Possible," he chuckled before pulling me to him again. "Would it scare the shit out of you if I told you I want you?" he asked hesitantly, his voice cracking with his own fear.
"No," I replied breathlessly before reaching up for his lips again. Perhaps I could show him how unafraid I was when he told me he wanted me. Perhaps I could show him just how much I wanted him in return. The flat planes of our chests met as one of his knees worked between mine, his thigh brushing along my growing erection. Hissing, I jerked my hips toward his, encouraging him to do it again.
Suddenly, the light in my kitchen turned on, illuminating the patio. Breaking the kiss, Jasper jumped back, his eyes wide as he stared at the door, waiting for someone to walk out and tell us what they had seen.
It never happened.
"Hey," I said, reaching for his hand under the water, taking it in mine and curling my fingers around his. "We're alone, it's okay. No one saw us. Probably just my mom doing the dishes," I reassured him.
Gradually, he let me pull him back to me, though he left some space between us. Standing up to my full height, I lifted myself from the pool and sat on the cement.
"Come here," I murmured, settling him between my spread knees. Nervously, he kept one eye on the door and one eye on me. It didn't escape me that I was suddenly the one comforting him when he had been the one that kissed me first. "You okay?"
Turning his attention to me, he grinned, wide and honest. "I'm fucking better than okay."
Smiling, I brought his hand up to my mouth and kissed it.
"Are you?"
I considered his question for a few seconds. Physically, I was definitely more than okay. Emotionally, I was in heaven, but that didn't meant that I wasn't confused with the thousands of questions and issues we had to face.
"Yeah, but we need to talk."
Hanging his head, he looked defeated, the passion in his eyes had been replaced by worry.
"No, no, nothing like that. I mean, I want this, us, but we need to talk about what we're going to do."
Relieved, he sighed and agreed. "Yeah, but can we do it tomorrow?"
I nodded and then selfishly leaned in for another amazing kiss. He shivered, although I wasn't sure if it was from the chilled night air or the affects of my lips on his. Trembles repeatedly racked my own body, but I knew mine were not from being cold.
Because I was far from cold.
We had stayed in the pool for about another hour, always touching in some way, even if it was just holding hands under the surface of the water. The night would forever be number one on my list of top ten best nights of my life. While we did more physically in the months after that, that had been the night that Jasper had taken a risk, a chance on love, and it had paid off for us both.
Sighing, I stared out at the pool, now covered for the winter, remembering when two boys had kissed in it, realizing they were in love.
"Edward?" my mother murmured from the other side of the door. It would be so easy to ignore her fake cheeriness and tell her I wanted to be alone. Apparently, I took too long to answer and she opened the door and walked in. "Everything alright?"
"Can you move that picture please," I asked, motioning to the picture on my dresser. "Just turn it around or something."
"Sure, but why, honey?"
"Just do it," I snapped, instantly regretting my tone. "Sorry, Mom."
Eyeing me, she walked to the dresser, easily reaching the frame and laying it flat on the wood. Returning to me, she kissed my forehead.
"It's okay."
No, it wasn't but it was now my life.
"I just came in to tell you I just heard from your school. Your father and I think it's a good idea to get you caught up as soon as possible so you don't fall further behind. We contacted the school for a tutor, well not really a tutor, just someone to come over every day with your work, go over what was done in your classes. Catch you up with what you've missed and then keep you up to date until you can go back."
"I don't want to go back," I stated flatly.
"Edward, you have to go back, but not for a few weeks at the very least," she replied. I hung my head and exhaled a long breath.
Going back to face all those…able-bodied students was salt on my already gaping wound.
"The tutor will be here in about an hour," she said. "Do you want anything to eat? Your father is going to go pick up dinner."
I glanced over my shoulder. "Wait, what? The tutor kid is coming today?"
Immediately, I pictured the nerd that used to sit in front of Jasper and me in biology. The girl was a fucking genius, and between her glasses, braces and curly brown hair, she was the epitome of a nerd. The differences between nerd and geeks had often been a topic of debate between Jasper and I. After seeing his room for the first time, I had made the mistake of calling him a nerd, to which he got very offended and proudly declared himself a geek, not a nerd. Then he proceeded to go into great detail about differences.
Nodding, she leaned down and kissed my head. "I told you we wanted to get you caught up as soon as possible."
"Yeah, but today?" I whined pathetically.
"Yes, today. He won't be here long. The visits will be short so they don't wear you out."
He.
She walked to the door and I spun the chair around. "Mom, who is it, who's coming?" As soon as the words had left my lips and she winked at me, I knew exactly who it was.
My heart began to race in my chest.
Jasper.
"**~~**"
Thanks for reading~
The kiss might have seemed sudden, but we will gradually learn about their relationship before the kiss and what led up to Jasper feeling brave enough to kiss Edward.
WN doesn't have a thread on Twilighted, but we do discuss it on the M&A thread, so feel free to join us there http:/www (DOT)twilighted(DOT)net/forum/viewtopic(DOT)php?f=44&t=9674
Generallythere are two ways the bladder works after a spinal cord injury. Spastic or Reflex Bladder means that when your bladder fills with urine, a reflex automatically triggers he bladder to empty. The problem with a spastic bladder is you do not know when the bladder will empty. Spastic or Reflex bladder usually occurs when the injury is above the T12 level. The choices in bladder management methods for an individual with a spastic/reflex bladder include ICP, indwelling catheter (Foley), and condom catheter(males). Flaccid or non-reflex bladder means one's reflexes may be sluggish or absent. You may not feel when the bladder is full. It then becomes over-distended or stretched. This can cause the urine to back up through the urethras to the kidneys. Individuals with injuries below T12/L1 usually have a flaccid bladder. The bladder management program most commonly used with flaccid bladder is ICP. Due to the location of Edward's injury, he has a flaccid bladder, and he will eventually not have a catheter in all the time, but rather only when he has to empty, which will be several times a day. If you want to know what his process will be here, go here http:/www DOT youtube DOT com/watch?v=Lj_5qzYgNRc (warning! It is an instructional video, but there are adult images.)
Next update, emptying bowels ( just kidding. Sort of.)