Everything was ready.

Beau was packed for his two-day visit with "Alice." The duffel bag sat on the passenger seat of his truck, waiting.

He'd given the concert tickets to Angela, Ben, and Mike. Mike was going to take Jessica, which was the exact outcome Beau hoped for. Billy had borrowed Old Quil Ateara's boat and invited Charlie down for some open sea fishing before the afternoon game started. Collin and Brady, the youngest two in the pack, were staying behind to protect La Push—though they were just children, both of them only thirteen. Still, Charlie would be safer than anyone left in Forks.

Beau had done everything he could. He had to accept there were things outside of his control. If all went well in the next forty-eight hours, the other residents of the area would never know the horrors felt by the families of Seattle's dead.

Being the one-eyed man in the land of the blind was a real drag. Beau couldn't wait to be on the other side of it.

Edward requested that he relax. Beau said he would try his very best.

"For this one night, could we try to forget everything besides you and me?" Edward had pleaded, unleashing the full force of his eyes. "It seems like I can never get enough time like that. I need to be with you. Just you."

Beau was ready for that.

He was finally ready to join Edward's family and his world. The fear and guilt and anguish Beau endured over the past few weeks—months, really—taught him that much. He no longer saw himself as useless. It had been Beau who pulled the curtain away to reveal the enemy. And, like Edward, Beau played a part in facilitating the new alliance with the pack.

The next time something came at them, Beau would be an asset, not a liability. Edward would never have to make the choice between Beau and his family again.

The two would be partners. Equals.

But there was just one thing missing.

One thing, because there were some things that had not changed, and that included the desperate way Beau loved Edward. He thought through the ramifications of Jasper and Emmett's bet as the killing games went on in the clearing.

He had time to figure out what he was willing to lose with his humanity.

This was something he was not willing to give up.

Beau knew which mortal experience he was going to insist on before becoming an immortal.

So there were some things to work out tonight. After everything he'd seen in the past two years, the word impossible had lost all meaning to Beau. It was going to take much more than that to stop him now.

The nerves began to mount as Beau drove down the long path toward the Cullen house. He had no game plan—no game at all, he was fumbling around in the dark—and that guaranteed serious jitters.

Edward was sitting in the passenger seat, ignorant of Beau's inner turmoil. He looked like he was fighting a smile, most likely at the slow pace of Big Red. Beau was surprised he had not insisted on driving, but tonight, Edward seemed content to go with the flow.

It was after dark when the boys reached the house. Someone—Alice, perhaps—had left the lights on for them. It made the enormous house look small, in a way. Cozy.

Beau wondered if Alice had seen this decision forming and acted accordingly. One part of him recoiled at the thought of his private business entering her Sight. Another part mused that if Alice disapproved, she would have alerted Edward, and remained his chaperone as planned.

Neither of those scenarios had come to fruition. Alice stepped aside and allowed this plan to proceed without protest. Edward, meanwhile, was acting completely normal. If he knew something was brewing, he gave no indication of it.

Beau took these realizations as a good sign. Something was about to happen, he just didn't know what it was.

Edward hoisted Beau's duffel bag over his shoulder with ease. Beau walked ahead, opening the front door—unlocked, as the vampires had no need of security measures—and stepped to one side so Edward could follow him in.

He had just closed the door behind them when Edward pushed him against it, the duffel bag dropping to the floor. Beau laughed, happily indulging in the kisses that followed. Edward seemed less on guard than usual tonight, his mouth cold and urgent on Beau's.

Beau identified a trace of optimism in his own thoughts. Perhaps he would get what he wanted, and it would not be as difficult as expected.

Edward pulled away at last, grinning. "We're never alone like this."

"No, we're not."

"I like it."

"Me too."

Edward took his hand again. "I've been working on a new piece in my head. Shall we test it out on the piano?"

"Oh . . . sure," Beau said, thrown for a moment. "Let's put my bag in your room first."

Beau was sure this could have been done at vampiric speed, but Edward was still upbeat, content as ever to let Beau take the wheel.

Beau hoped it would remain that way. This line in the sand was drawn long ago, but it appeared closer than it had ever been. Like they were on the cusp of something significant.

Edward sat on the gold bed, watching as Beau unpacked the clothes he'd brought for the weekend. Beau shoved everything into the top drawer of the dresser. It felt stupid to go to this much effort, but he wanted a minute to gather his thoughts, and this was the only way.

They were already in Edward's bedroom, after all.

It was a start.

Beau closed the drawer. His eyes moved to a cardboard box sitting on the floor beside the dresser.

"What's this?"

The chill of Edward's breath on his skin told him the other boy was standing very close.

"It's my life—well, the life before 1918, anyway."

Beau glanced over his shoulder. "May I?"

Edward nodded.

The box was tightly packed with all sorts of things: books, eyeglasses, papers, and smaller boxes made of black velvet. Beau reached for one of them. Edward nodded again at his silent request.

There were three rings inside the box: two simple gold bands, and a third, more ornate engagement ring. Its diamonds glittered in the same way Edward did when he stood in direct sunlight.

"Wow."

"Carlisle saved them for me," Edward explained. "It was common back then for thieves to steal things from the deceased. He wanted me to have something to remember my parents by."

The emotional weight of his words made Beau's hands tremble. Years from now—not many, by a vampire's standards—keepsakes like these would be all that remained of Charlie and Renée. Soon their whole lives would fit into a box just like this one.

Beau cleared his throat before searching for something less sentimental. A document he recognized as a deed had carefully been tucked into a folder.

"You're a homeowner?"

"I suppose I am," Edward chuckled. "It's the deed to the house I grew up in. We have a tenant living there at the moment. A doctor, ironically enough."

The thought of visiting such an important place in Edward's life was intoxicating. "Can we go there someday?"

"Anytime."

Beau moved onto a silver pocket watch. The ticking was still strong despite the passage of time.

"Is this what you hear when you listen to my heartbeat?"

Edward laughed again. "It's close."

Beau watched him remove the watch from its box and coiled the chain through his fingers.

"This is how I remember him," Edward said as he gazed down at its face. "My father was always looking at this watch. Always on time for his appointments. Edward Masen never missed a day of work until he got sick."

Discussions about Edward's past were few and far between. Beau listened, greedy for more.

"He loved my mother deeply, though. I inherited all of the jewelry he'd given her during their marriage. I let Esme and my sisters keep what they liked, but I don't know what to do with the rest."

"It's nice to have mementos like that," Beau said quietly. "After they're gone."

Edward's answering smile was kind, almost sad.

The two put everything back the way they found it. Then, as if sharing the same thought, the boys sat down on the edge of the bed.

"Are you feeling all right?"

"Fine," Beau said automatically. "I wanted to . . . discuss something."

"What would you like to discuss?"

"Before we get started, I'd appreciate it if you could begin by being open-minded."

Edward's eyes were cautious now. "I'll give it my best effort."

"I . . . well, I was really grateful you decided to sit out the fight. The two of us compromising like that, I think it's a good thing. I was hoping we could apply the same principle to a different situation."

"What situation would that be?"

Beau opened his mouth, but nothing came out. He was so sure of himself before, but now, with the gun poised to fire, he couldn't pull the trigger.

"Listen to your heart fly," Edward murmured. "It's fluttering like a hummingbird's wings. Are you sure you're all right?"

"I'm sure."

"Please go on then." Edward's tone was encouraging. Unsuspecting.

"Well, I guess, first, I wanted to talk to you about that whole ridiculous marriage thing."

"It's only ridiculous to you. What about it?"

"I was wondering . . . is that open to negotiation?"

That displeased him. "I've already made the biggest concession: I've agreed to take your life away against my better judgment. And that ought to entitle me to a few compromises on your part."

"No, that part's a done deal. I want to hammer out some other details."

"And what details are these, exactly?"

Beau felt like his face was on fire. Come on, one side of him was yelling. Don't be chicken.

"Are you blushing? Please, Beau, the suspense is painful."

"I'm a little worried about after," Beau admitted.

His body tensed, but Edward's tone was gentle. "What has you worried?"

"All of you seemed really convinced that the only thing I'm going to be interested in is slaughtering the entire town. I'm afraid I'll be so preoccupied with the mayhem that I won't be me anymore . . . and that I won't . . . I won't want you the same way I do now."

"Beau, that part doesn't last forever."

Beau took a deep breath.

"Edward, there's something that I want to do before I'm not human anymore."

Edward waited for more, but the other boy had gone quiet. He put an assuring arm around Beau's shoulders.

"Whatever you want."

"Do you promise?"

"Yes," Edward said with the fervor of an acolyte. "What is it? A tattoo? Skydiving? Tell me what you want, and you can have it."

"I want you."

Edward smiled, still not understanding. "I'm yours."

Beau kissed him then. There was nothing else he could say.

Edward kissed him back, bewildered but willing. Beau could tell his mind was elsewhere—trying to figure out what he was thinking about.

The bed was soft around them. The optimism he noticed before was becoming more difficult to ignore. It went to war with his common sense, which told him Edward was going to shut this down at any moment.

Maybe this could happen the way it did in the movies. The two leading men, so overcome with passion, let everything else go. All the anxieties, all the heartaches, all the mistakes . . . just this.

But the moment arrived as scheduled. Edward pushed away from him with a shuddering breath.

"Be reasonable, Beau."

Beau's voice was a whisper. "You promised—whatever I wanted."

"I thought it was something faintly realistic."

Beau stayed where he was on the bed. The anger faded away almost instantly, but something else lingered behind, prickly and uncomfortable.

It was rejection.

Beau knew it was irrational. Edward stopped things because he cared.

Yet Beau couldn't help but feel embarrassed.

Everything the two did felt natural . . . human. It was one of the ways people could express love.

Beau slung an arm over his eyes. Maybe he could pretend it was all a bad dream.

He felt that arm being pulled away from his face. Edward's eyes were wide in surprise.

"Did I hurt your feelings?"

"No," Beau lied.

Barely a second passed before Edward was on top of him.

"What are you—"

"You know why I have to say no," he murmured. "You know that I want you, too."

In this position, Beau could feel he was telling the truth. But he was weak.

"Do you?"

"Of course I do," Edward told him, smoothing the back of his hand across Beau's beard. "Now more than ever. You don't make it easy for me."

That pleased him, but Beau focused on the question at hand. "You're trying to distract me. Tell me if I'm wrong: you're demanding a wedding, but not the wedding night."

"I'm demanding marriage," Edward corrected him. "The wedding is merely a request."

"And my lone, solitary little demand is—"

"Demand?" Edward interrupted him.

"Yes, demand."

His eyes narrowed.

"Getting married is a stretch for me. I'm not giving in unless I get something in return."

Edward didn't move, physically or metaphorically. "It's not possible now. Later, when you're less breakable. Be patient, Beau."

"But that's the problem. It won't be the same when I'm less breakable. I won't be the same because I won't know who I'll be then."

"You'll still be Beau."

Beau tried to get free, but nothing happened. "If I'm so far gone that I'd want to kill Charlie—that I'd drink Jacob's blood or Angela's if I got the chance—how can that be true?"

"It will pass. And besides, you won't want to drink Jacob's blood."

"But that will always be what I want most, won't it? Blood?"

"The fact that you're still alive is proof that's not true," Edward pointed out.

"Over eighty years later. I meant physically. Intellectually, I know I'll be able to be myself . . . after a while. But just purely physically . . . I'll always be thirsty, more than anything else."

Edward didn't answer.

"So I will be different," Beau concluded, unopposed. "Because right now, physically, there's nothing I want more than you. More than food or water or oxygen. Intellectually, I have my priorities in order. But physically . . . "

Edward rolled off him. He was staring at the ceiling now. "I could kill you."

"I don't think you could."

Edward reached past Beau and snapped one of the metal flowers off the bed frame. It was soon no more than black sand in his hand.

"I know what you can do," Beau said, watching the sand pile up on the floor. "But I also know you wouldn't hurt me. That you couldn't hurt me."

Edward was shaking his head.

"It might not work like that, Beau."

"You have no more idea of what you're talking about than I do."

"Exactly. Do you imagine I would ever take that kind of risk with you?"

Beau could understand that . . . or he would, eventually. Hurt feelings and hormones aside, there was a level of danger involved. Even so . . . a bizarre part of him didn't mind the danger. That part of Beau welcomed the thrill.

It was the same reckless and unthinking part that decided to hit the road with Jacob.

"I'm going to change," Beau said after a moment of silence. "I'll be back."

Normally he didn't care about changing clothes in front of Edward, but right now, he was feeling a little wounded.

Beau took his toiletries to the bathroom. The cool water on his face was restorative. Calming, even.

He'd swung for the fences and missed. At least Edward knew how he felt now. How much he wanted him. That had to count for something.

Edward was sitting at the edge of the bed when Beau returned. The golden eyes followed Beau as he set about organizing his stuff.

It was an odd feeling, being watched so closely. Almost like he was being hunted.

Beau sat down on the bed again. With so few human nights remaining, Beau didn't want to sleep apart from Edward, even when they were in a disagreement.

His eyes landed on Edward's knee. It was moving up and down so fast that Beau couldn't follow it.

It was weird. If Beau didn't know any better, he would have thought Edward was nervous about something.

Beau barely reached this conclusion before he found himself horizontal. He had no idea how it happened until Edward was kissing him again.

It was just like before, and yet, not at all like before. There was a new edge of conflict and intensity in the kisses. Something had changed in the few minutes Beau was in the other room, but he had no clue what it was.

Beau didn't dare to hope, but as the minutes passed, it was evident a decision had been made.

A cold hand stopped Beau as he reached for the neckline of his shirt. "Beau, stop."

Beau obeyed. "Right—faster if you do it."

"No, I meant, stop. Not like this. Not tonight."

Beau was desperate to catch up. "But—"

"I'm not saying no, I'm saying not tonight."

There were so many mixed signals here that Beau felt he would need a guidebook to follow along.

"You lost me."

Edward was grinning as he peered down at Beau.

"I wasn't born yesterday. Out of the two of us, who do you think is more unwilling to give the other what they want? If I give in tonight, what guarantee do I have that you won't go running off to Carlisle in the morning?"

"You don't trust me?"

A shadow crossed Edward's face. "Of course I do."

Beau pushed himself into a sitting position. His mind was moving at full speed now, as if to make up for the horny confusion of a moment ago.

"You don't trust me," Beau repeated. It wasn't a question.

Edward didn't respond this time, and that was answer enough. Beau let out a long sigh.

"I deserve that. I know I haven't given you many reasons to trust me lately."

"That's not true."

"It's not?"

The silence was deafening.

Beau had seen Edward scared before: last spring, when Beau nearly bled out on the gymnasium floor. Then, almost a year later, he saw it again in Volterra, when the deal with the Volturi was struck.

But here, in his bedroom, this was different. Edward looked vulnerable.

Beau thought he knew why.

"It's about Jacob. You're angry with me about what happened in his garage."

"How can I be? I created the circumstances that pushed the two of you together. Anything that happened afterwards is my fault."

Something about these words made Beau pause. He put one hand to Edward's hair, stroking the bronze strands as he thought.

"I forgave you for leaving."

"Maybe you shouldn't have," Edward said quietly. "Maybe that's why it happened. You'd be better off with him, Beau. He can give you what you want tonight . . . without hurting you."

"I don't want to do this with him."

Edward's eyes fell closed, from the emotion, or the hand moving through his hair, Beau wasn't sure. His eyes remained closed when he spoke again.

"If something went wrong, or if . . . we . . . if I . . . wasn't up to your satisfaction . . . "

"You think I'll run to Jacob instead?"

"I gave up on us once," Edward murmured. "I wouldn't blame you."

Beau thought back to those nights on the road with Jacob. The boys had shared hotel rooms—and beds—many times. There had been plenty of opportunities for the two to take this step.

It would have been as easy as breathing.

But Alice—or perhaps fate—came knocking. Beau had not hesitated; the pull toward Edward was inevitable. Unshakeable. Like magnets. Renée had said as much in Florida.

Beau realized now that this bond scared him. The deep love he felt for Edward had the power to move mountains. But there was something terrifying about the enormity of it.

Beau had tried to resist it, in his own ways. When Edward hesitated to vote in favor of turning him into a vampire, Beau flew into a rage. When told he couldn't go to La Push, Beau jumped on the back of Jacob's motorcycle. Sidelined in the upcoming battle, Beau opted to become the bait.

Beau had made a habit of this: fighting. Fighting to stay alive in Phoenix, fighting James while knowing he would lose, fighting for the right to choose his destiny. Even the newborns had not deterred him from becoming a vampire.

It was one thing to tell Edward he didn't want anything to do with Jacob; it was another to follow through. He had been toying with both of their hearts.

This situation was the battle of the Beaus: Edward's Beau and Jacob's Beau.

He didn't understand until now that this fight had already been lost.

Charlie had been right: The heart wants what it wants.

"I've made a mess of things," Beau said softly. "I've hurt both of you and I have to live with that. I'm sorry. But I know what I want and what I need . . . and that's you."

Edward's eyes had gone molten gold, the way they did when he was feeling strongly about something. A white hand took hold of the neckline of Beau's shirt, pulling him closer.

Beau surfaced with difficulty a few minutes later. "Can I apologize to you again?"

Edward pushed Beau's chin up, allowing him the breath he was looking for, but swiftly took it away again with a line of kisses down his neck.

"Forgiven."

Beau pulled back to catch his gaze. "Really?"

Edward shifted to get closer to Beau, propping himself up on one elbow. His other arm was slung across Beau's torso.

"Really. I'm sorry, too. I trust you more than anyone else on earth."

"Good," Beau sighed.

It wasn't the evening he imagined, but this conversation had brought unsettled things to the forefront, and allowed both boys to speak their minds. Beau felt himself relaxing in a way he hadn't in days.

Edward was watching him with a strange expression on his face.

"What?"

"I only wondered . . . what were you planning to do?"

"Planning?"

Edward's arm tightened around him. "If I had said yes to . . . us. Here, now. What were you planning to do?"

A slow flush crept up the back of Beau's neck. "Um . . . "

Beau realized with horror he had no game. None. He thought it was better to be honest about that.

"I don't know," he admitted. "I didn't think that far ahead."

Edward was grinning. "Someone did. Look what I found while you were in the bathroom."

Beau peered over Edward's shoulder into the drawer of the bedside table. All matters of sexual paraphernalia were inside, all thanks to, he was sure, Alice.

"She didn't."

"Oh, but she did. My dear sister is the madam of this brothel."

Beau slid down the pillow until his eyes focused on the ceiling. "I don't know what to say."

"Bashful now?"

"No, it's just . . . there's no guidebook for us. I mean, that stuff is funny and all, but we're . . . different."

Edward was paying close attention now. "Different how?"

"Well . . . " Beau wondered how to phrase this. "You said, 'not tonight.' Then all the kissing. I guess I'm not sure what you're trying to tell me."

Edward picked up Beau's left hand. "Maybe we can renegotiate the terms."

Beau was thunderstruck. "Hold on. I have to marry you first?"

"It's called a compromise."

"Wait a minute—"

"Let me ask you something," Edward went on, if there was no interruption. "We've had this discussion before, but humor me. How many people in this room have a soul? A shot at heaven, or whatever there is after this life?"

"Two," Beau said immediately, his voice fierce.

"All right. Maybe that's true. Now there's a world full of dissension on this, but the vast majority think there are some rules that have to be followed."

Beau was incredulous. "Didn't you break vampire rule number one?"

Edward ignored him. "Couldn't hurt to be careful. It might be too late for me, even if you are right about my soul."

"No, it isn't."

"'Thou shalt not kill' is commonly accepted by most major belief systems. And I've killed a lot of people, Beau."

"Only the bad ones."

Edward shrugged. "Maybe that counts, maybe it doesn't. But you haven't killed anyone—"

"That you know about—"

"—so I'm going to do my best to keep us both out of temptation's way."

"What a crock," Beau mumbled. "Staying . . . chaste, or whatever, was all about preventing unwanted pregnancy, and that's not a problem for us. We aren't fighting over committing murder."

"The same principle applies. The only difference is that this is the one area in which I'm just as spotless as you are. Can't I leave one rule unbroken?"

"One?"

"You know that I've stolen, I've lied, I've coveted . . . my virtue is all I have left."

"Virtue," Beau scoffed. "And what did you ever covet? You have everything."

"I coveted you." His smile darkened. "I had no right to want you—but I reached out and took you anyway. And now look what's become of you! Trying to seduce a vampire."

"You can't covet what's already yours."

Edward smiled again. "It may be too late for me, but I'll be damned—no pun intended—before you end up there, too."

"You can't make me go somewhere you won't be," Beau vowed. "That's my definition of hell. Anyway, I have an easy solution to all this: let's never die."

"Sounds simple enough. Why didn't I think of that?"

Beau thought he was holding his own tonight. It was so typical of Edward to find a way to turn the tables on him.

But even Beau, for all of his anti-matrimonial sentiment, wondered what it might be like. The rest of the family wore wedding rings on their fingers, or on necklaces, depending on the age group they were pretending to be part of.

"Can I . . . consider it?"

Edward was satisfied by these words. "All right."

The boys fell silent. It was comfortable between them now, so much so that Beau felt himself starting to drift off. But before he surrendered to sleep, there was one last question on his mind.

"What about a counterproposal?"

"I'm listening."

"When you buy a car, you're supposed to take it for a test drive," Beau said, with a sudden surge of boldness. "If you've hunted, couldn't we try . . . foreplay? Sometime?"

Edward was gazing down at him with an indecipherable expression. The gold in his eyes was darkening in a way that made Beau's stomach flip over. He didn't dare breathe, lest this be a figment of his imagination.

The next words were entirely unexpected.

"Can I consider it?"

Beau nodded. "All right."

His dreams were full of Edward. Their conversation before he fell asleep had given way to fantasies of all stripes. There was one of them pawing each other in the last row of the movie theater. Another had the boys making use of the truck bed under the stars.

The last—his favorite—featured Beau and Edward on a remote beach. Beau was finally tan again; Edward's skin sparkled in the bright light of day. With the shore to themselves, there was no need for bathing suits.

When Beau woke up, it was disorienting—only moments before, he had been under the brilliant sun.

"Beau?"

"Hi," Beau murmured. "What time is it?"

"Two o'clock."

"Ah." Only a few hours had gone by since Edward shut off the light.

"Can't sleep?"

Beau rubbed his eyes. "It comes and goes lately."

A cool hand slid across his neck, leaving goosebumps in its wake. "What did you do in Phoenix on nights like this one?"

"I liked going for a run. That was the best time to do it, when the moon was out."

Beau couldn't make out Edward's face in the dark, but somehow, he could tell the other boy was smiling.

"I think you'll enjoy that part of the change—the speed. There's nothing like it."

"Mmm," Beau agreed, bringing Edward's hand back up to his cheek. It moved at once to stroke the bristles of his beard. Beau sighed at the touch, content as a cat.

"I thought about your counterproposal."

"Oh?"

"I want to do something . . . with your permission, of course."

"Okay," Beau whispered, his eyes wide open now. It didn't do him any good; they had not yet adjusted to the darkness of the room.

Beau found he didn't mind. The sensory deprivation just heightened his anticipation. All he could do was feel—and respond—to Edward.

A roving hand slipped into the waistband of his boxers. Beau wriggled a bit to help push them down his thighs. It was the most naked he had ever been in front of him—in front of anyone, really.

Well, everyone except Alice, who helped him shower after the whole James fiasco. But that was totally different.

He made a strangled sound as Edward put a hand around his cock. His body moved toward Edward's touch like it had a mind of its own. Like it was the most natural thing in the world.

Beau caught a flash of white in the dark and realized it was the moonlight glinting off Edward's teeth.

The bastard was smiling.

Then Edward was kissing him, kissing in a way that should be illegal. Like, if given the chance, he would swallow him whole.

Beau wasn't sure if he was in heaven, or hell. The dueling temperatures—the icy cold of Edward's hand stroking him and the thrum of blood rushing under Beau's skin—was an irresistible combination.

Dreams were one thing, but the reality was so much better. The Edward who starred in his sexual fantasies didn't hold a candle to the real thing.

Both boys agreed to consider the other's arguments on the matter, but while he slept, Edward had already skipped ahead to a conclusion.

A curious side of Beau wondered what changed, but it was quickly overruled by other matters. In a mortifyingly brief amount of time, he was already about to come.

The moment hit Beau harder than a punch. He moaned, surrendering to the heat coiling under his skin.

There was another flash of teeth when Edward finally spoke.

"Well, that was something."

"A great fucking something," Beau breathed, distinctly aware—but uncaring—that he was covered in sweat and spunk.

There was a noise that sounded like the drawer opening. He held still as Edward cleaned him up, his mind whirring with excitement. He desperately wanted to reciprocate, but Edward guessed what he was up to, and caught his wandering hand.

"That's enough for now."

Beau frowned. "But you didn't—"

"For now," Edward repeated. "It's enough to watch you. Try to sleep, Beau."

Beau stifled a yawn. "This isn't over."

A warm chuckle was the last thing he heard.

A/N: Feeling like Amy Poehler from Mean Girls outside the door while this scene is going on: "You guys need anything? Some snacks? A condom?"

Thanks for reading!