Jasper
Four months and eighteen days. That’s how long Edward has been in my life. And I felt like my life has been turned upside down.
I had just broken up with Felix, my boyfriend of two years, and was fully enjoying being single. The past months had taken a toll on me. Between Felix’s constant demands to settle down together and my increasing workload, things just kind of fell apart.
Freshly promoted to a senior position in one of the top five strategy consultancy companies in the US, I had much more work than I could handle, in addition of all the travels to meet the clients, spread all over the country. That was the downside. The upside was definitely the salary; At the age of twenty-six, I had managed to save quite a lot of money and had a great life style. That was all I wanted, unlike Felix, who was desperate for us to get married, to buy a house and start a family. I had nothing against that on paper, but I couldn’t see myself with Felix for the rest of my life. The boredom of our life would have been excruciating. It took me a few months, and an eye-opening discussion with Bella, my dear sister, to realize that I wasn’t really in love with Felix; we were more friends with benefits than anything else. So, after a very dramatic separation, a few fights, and the loss of half of my friends over him, I became a bachelor, which was more than satisfying.
Then I met Edward.
He made quite an impression on me. And since that moment, I had realized, albeit a bit confused, that he was always on my mind. I was nowhere near prepared for him or for the whirlwind of emotions he would make me experience.
Being back at the headquarters for a few weeks, I was supposed to make a presentation of my company to the students of my former college. I thought it would be fun to go back and meet my old teachers. After the presentation, I had decided to walk around the campus and rediscover where I’ve spent four years of my life. I wandered around the buildings, remembering the stupid pranks I did, the parties and the football games I went to, and the friends I had made there. There was one special place, dear to my heart, that I wanted to return too. Walking down the side of the library, and past the bushes, was an inscription I had placed there, a few days after learning my father had died.
‘If you are reading this, it means you know I was there. And now I’ll be living in your thoughts forever.’ Touching it with the tips of my fingers, I felt a flow of emotions rushing through me as my eyes watered.
Dad, I miss you.
A shuffling movement interrupted my thoughts. Turning around, I saw a young man standing a few feet from me. His intense gaze froze me into place. His eyes were full of annoyance, as if he disapproved of my presence here. I was taken aback by his reaction, and was about to question him, when his gaze flew from the inscription to me, and he began to relax. He seemed surprised, but soon I discerned understanding in his regard.
“You are the one who wrote that, aren’t you?”
I nodded; a bit startled that he discovered it.
“Why?” The intensity was back again, but this time his eyes were full of questions.
“My Dad just passed away.” He nodded to me, his eyes finally leaving my face to look at the nearby trees. I heard him sigh. He was nearly in tears. He stepped towards me and stood by the tree facing my inscription. “Here. Look.”
Confused, I walked to him and examined the plane tree. 'I’ll always think about you' was carved on the wood.
“A friend and I found your message in the middle of our freshman year. We were drunk and hiding from some guys… Anyway… We spent the rest of the night imagining who had written that and why. If you knew the things we came up with!” He paused, chuckling sadly and getting lost in his thoughts. Having a bad feeling about what he was going to say next, I put my hand on his shoulder. He looked at me, a small smile on his lips. “That friend, Mike, died in a stupid car accident a year later.”
“And you wrote that message for him,” I continued. He nodded and looked back at the tree.
Sharing the pain of losing a loved one, I wanted to bring him some comfort. Let him know that the sorrow would gradually dim, tell him that soon he would feel serenity when remembering his friend. But I also knew that sometimes words weren’t enough. My hand left his shoulder to massage the nape of his neck, trying to soothe him by this simple gesture.
He looked like a boy who had to grow up too fast. His tall, well-designed body, and two day old stubble on his square jaw, gave him the appearance of a man. But the vulnerability he had showed during our small encounter, and his genuine trust in me, gave away his youth. He glanced at me, blushing slightly, as I smiled softly at him.
He is definitely younger than he looks.
The vibrations of my phone brought me back to reality. With a last gentle squeeze on his neck, I let go of him. Checking my messages, I realized I had to go back in town.
“I need to leave.”
“Ok. I’ll walk you back to your car then.” He clearly wasn’t expecting any refusal from me, so I showed him the way.
Breaking the silence, he suddenly asked: “Why did you engrave it there?”
I chuckled at his question. “I wish I could tell you that my Dad loves reading and so I thought of a beautiful message to leave for him behind the library. But that wouldn’t be true. I was drunk, sad out of my mind, and I just didn’t want him to disappear forever. I must admit that it took me two days to find back this place once I sobered up…. You’re not too disappointed, are you?”
He laughed. “No. I like your honesty.” His face reddened a bit as he added: “To tell you the truth, after spending the night guessing who wrote the message, Mike and I settled on Miss Gianna.”
“Miss Gianna?” I replied dumbfound. “You mean the sour old librarian who only wears stirrup pants? Is she still working here?”
“Yeah, she is. And she hasn't changed one bit.”
“Why on earth would Miss Gianna write that on the back of the library?” I asked
Smirking, the young man explained: “For Heathcliff, her cat. He disappeared one day, and she is quite the romantic type, so we thought… you know…” He trailed off with a slight shrug.
I was openly laughing now. I had never thought that my little inscription would cause so many questions and thoughts. Once at my car, I decided to tease him a little.
“You must have been so disappointed when you realized that I wasn’t Miss Gianna.”
“Bitter old lady loving her cats more than any human beings versus tall and attractive blond man who empathizes with people. Hard choice indeed.” His tone was full of sarcasm.
“Attractive?” was my only reply.
He looked at the ground, embarrassed.
So he is gay, and damn cute too. Brave and shy at the same time.
Extending his hand to me, he finally met my eyes again. “I am Edward, by the way.”
“Jasper.” I answered as we shook hands.
Fidgeting on his feet, his hands in his back pockets, he used all his courage to speak again: “Staind is doing a concert in town this coming Tuesday. They were Mike’s favorite band. I was planning to go… just… you know… What I am trying to say is, would you like to share this with me, for Mike?”
His voice full of hope affected me. I also wished to get to know him more.
“Sure. For Mike.” He grinned at me, grateful.
I felt my heart flustered as I tried to find a business card. “Here is my personal number. Just text me the details and I’ll meet you there.”
“Sure.” His satisfied whisper filled my mind as I climbed in my car and left my former college.
---
Flashback: 1st Date
I was running late and I missed the beginning of the concert. The bar was packed and I couldn’t see Edward anywhere. The barstool was elevated and probably the best place to find him. I asked for a beer as the first notes of “Tangled Up in You” begun. The room became silent, everyone sitting. I screened the room and finally spotted him in a corner, leaning against the wall, one hand behind his back, beating time on his thigh with the other one. He looked melancholic, completely lost in his thoughts. Lulled by the slow song, he was a sight to behold. All the fondness I had felt for him two days before came back to me and warmed my heart. What was it about him? Why this tenderness? It wasn’t a sexual feeling. Well, lust wasn’t far behind, to be honest. I was just denying that part. I could still do it for the moment. But I couldn’t help the need to hold him, to protect him. Not like with a kid or with a brother. Or with a total stranger during a one night stand.
Edward, what are you doing to me?
As if he heard me, his head turned and his eyes fell on me. His gaze was intense like the first time. And like the first time, I could see all the emotions going through them: pensiveness, recognition, surprise, relief, and joy. I smiled at him tenderly, trying to communicate silently that I was also happy to see him. He moved before me, quickly talking to a guy seated at the table in front of him, and then he came towards me. He leaned on the barstool beside me, his shoulder touching mine. His head tilted towards me, looking at me through his lashes with a timid smile.
Damn Edward! Please don't do this to me.
He spoke to me but I couldn’t make out what he said over the music. Coming dangerously closer to me, he repeated: “Have you been here long?” I shook my head no. His nose brushed against my cheek, his breath fanning my face. I inhaled, tasting his scent on my tongue. Crushed seashells, I thought. He smelt of crushed seashells warmed by the sun. And sandalwood, like the scent of earth, rocks and lush hedgerows on a summer day. The need to touch him was overpowering; the tips of my fingers were tingling, desperate to feel his skin. My hands were trembling, frustrated at not already holding him. But instead of moving, I concentrated desperately on my beer and asked him if he wanted one.
“No I can’t yet. But I’ll have a coke.” He must have seen my confusion as he added quickly, “I am not 21 yet.”
“When will you be?”
“In 10 months. And you?” He smiled playfully at me.
“I was 21 five years ago.”
Nudging me, he replied: “Don’t worry, you are safe going out with me; youth isn’t contagious!”
Smart ass...As if it was the problem here. I was a bit surprised by this bolder version of the young man. The shyness had been left at the door and alcohol couldn’t even be blamed. But I must admit that I liked him this way. A Lot.
“I came with some friends. You want to meet them?” He asked.
“Sure.”
Grabbing his coke in one hand, he came behind me and put his free hand on the small of my back. Pushing me forward he explained, “Right in front of you, in the corner.”
I was a bit confused about the way he chose to bring me to his friends, but soon realized that he was just using all the excuses he could to touch me. It quickly became pure torture. At the end of the evening if someone had asked me the names of his friends or the number of songs played that night, I would have been incapable to answer. Yet, I could vividly recall each and every place he put his hands on me. Or his breathe on my neck. Or the brush of his nose on my ear. He was driving me crazy. Each touch was making me crave him even more. All thoughts of tenderness were gone and lust was quickly all I could feel.
The worst was that he didn’t really seem to notice what he was doing. He didn’t smirk once at me. Or look at me sexily. He sat very close to me, never really meeting my gaze, but stealing glances from time to time, when I was faking interest in anything other than him.
My brave, bold and naïve boy. I was falling hard and wasn’t at all ready for this. Two days ago, I was enjoying my life as a bachelor, swearing to stay single until at least the end of the year. And now I was calling a man I met 48 hours ago “my boy”. I needed to slow down the pace and figure some things out first. Frankly, I was scared about my feelings for him. I cared more about him in two days that I have ever cared about Felix in two years. That thought made me feel ashamed.
As the night ended, I tried to keep some distances and avoid his attempt at touching me. But each time, his sad glances unsettled me. I gave up and stroked his arm reassuringly. I was rewarded with a sweet and blushing smile that made me forget all thoughts of staying away from him ever again.
“Where did you park your car?” Edward’s voice brought me back to reality. “This way.” I answered. He followed me to my car and leaned on it waiting for me to unlock the door. Opening the door, I turned around to face him.
Bold Edward was back; I could see that in his eyes. He reached for my hand, lacing the tips of his fingers with mine and pulled me gently to him. I let him do it, while one side of my brain wanting badly to know what he had in mind; the other part was sending me warning messages.
His eyes studied me, his lips closing the distance between us, the top of his nose caressing the side of mine. I could taste his breath on my tongue, a mixed a coke and salty peanuts and my mouth watered. My resolve was melting with every breath he took. He seemed to see the battle that was raging in me, as he said: “You’re going to make me wait, aren't you?”
I remained silent, having no clue how to explain my reactions to him in one sentence. Or in two for that matter. Maybe if he spent the next five hours listening, I would be able to clarify my feelings. Though I might need to sort them out before hand. Staying silent definitely seemed like the easiest thing to do, so I just nodded.
“Fair enough. I’ll wait.” He stepped back, squeezing my hand and caressing the top with his thumb. I already knew that avoiding him wasn’t an option for my own peace of mind, but spending an evening with him was way to tempting as well. One solution: Day Date.
Trying to regain a semblance of composure, I breathed deeply and steadied my voice. “There is an expo about The Civil War at the Museum of History. My Dad used to participate in reenactment back home. I was planning to go this coming Saturday. Would you like to share this with me, for my Dad?”
He smiled at me, squeezing my hand again and added “Sure. For your Dad, I’ll come.”
I chuckled, knowing that we had the exact same conversation a few days ago and that my Dad was just an excuse. Like Mike had been his.
“Just text me the details and I’ll meet you there.” He added, letting go of my hands and walking backwards to his car.
---
Flashback: 2nd Date
Our second date was fairly R-Rated. He must have read my mind because he kept the touching to the minimum. The whole afternoon in the museum was spent in a good companionship, with no flirting. And it felt surprisingly nice and easy to spend time with him. We shared knowledge about the Civil War, walking around the galleries, and looking at documents and paintings. He had a pretty decent knowledge of these historical events and some comments he made showed me how smart he really was. We then drifted to my Dad: his work as a deputy in the Marion County, his passion for history. I gave him some details on the Battle Of Jefferson Port and anecdotes on how he was so proud to participate every year to “the largest reenactment in Texas”.
“You were pretty close to him. Did he know?” He asked.
“That I was gay? No, He didn’t. I didn’t have time to tell him.” I sat down on a bench in the middle of the gallery. Edward joined me, putting his hand on my shoulder. “What happened?”
“I was afraid to disappoint him. I heard him laugh at some stupid gay jokes a few times so I never dared to approach the subject. I guess I was waiting for a sign, anything, to show me I could tell him. And then he died, shot in the neck by an old man who panicked during a checking.”
Edward let his hand drifted to the nape of my neck and squeezed lightly.
“I was basically being a coward.” I answered honestly.
“I am one too.”
He brought his hand back to his lap as I looked up at him waiting for him to develop his answer.
“My parents don’t know either. I have a bad feeling, especially with the new arm candy my Dad just married. My family is all about keeping up appearances. I am pretty sure having a gay son won’t fit in the ideal image they have of themselves.”
We both sighed at the same time, which made us chuckle.
“Well, that was a depressing conversation.” I said, trying to lighten the mood.
Edward smiled at that. “We seem to have a quirk for speaking about very personal matters. I kind of like that.”
“Me too.” He said in a whisper that I nearly missed. His head was down, his face slightly turning pink. My shy boy was back and I kind of like that too. Wanting to lighten the mood and get to know more about him, I asked: “Tell me more about your friend Mike. A funny anecdote for instance.”
“Hmmm… Mike was my very curious straight friend.”
“What?” I was a bit startled by his comment. “What do you mean?”
“He went a few times with me to a gay club, and was really curious about 'the mechanics of gay love' as he said.”
I snorted with laughter. That wasn’t at all the kind of stories I was expecting him to share. “You can’t stop here. You have to tell me more.”
With a sheepish grin, he continued his story. “As I said, he was pretty intrigued about the whole ... hmmm… thing. So he asked me if he could try some things out with me, stating that it would be less awkward as we were best friends. I never quite understood his reasoning, but I let it slide as I wanted to know how far he would go.”
Amused by his embarrassment, I saw him take a deep breath as he tried to gather some strength to finish his story.
“How far did you go then?”
“Not really far. We started making out; he seemed to enjoy it quite a lot. After a few minutes, he pressed me against him and brutally stopped. He then explained me that I was – I quote - 'too hard for him' and that he was missing 'the softness of boobs'.”
I burst out laughing in the middle of the gallery, followed quickly by Edward. Everybody stared at us disapprovingly. A guard even asked us to leave the museum when he realized we had a hard time stopping. We only managed to calm down once we exited the building. Edward was the first to speak: “I really enjoyed this expo. Thank you for inviting me, I don’t think I would have come to see it otherwise.”
I grinned at him, pleased, even though I had no clue how to proceed from here: Day dating didn’t make the goodbyes any easier. Trying to come up with something, I proposed: “Maybe next time you could show me something you like.”
“Ok! I presuppose our next date should be during daytime too.” He was trying very hard to look perfectly innocent, as if his remark wasn’t insinuating anything. Before I could react, he added: “If you don’t mind having a sandwich for lunch, I could bring you to the City Gallery next Wednesday.”
Smirking at him, I just nodded. His mask cracked up, letting place to the sweetest smile. Why did I suggest day dating again?
I brought my hand to his cheek and slowly brushed the side of his face. “Sure. Just text me the details and I’ll meet you there.” He leaned into my touch, closing his eyes. It took me all the will I had to step back and leave him.
---
Flashback: 3rd Date
Our third date passed as a blur for me. He was studying to become an architect and so brought me to a gallery with models of the most famous buildings in the world. I spent the whole visit smiling, more focused on his facial expressions than on his constant babbling. I honestly found his description of the different kind of skyscrapers very interesting, but the speaker was just much more fascinating. Every so often, he would pass his hand through his hair, pulling at it while glancing at me, making sure I was still listening. I then could catch his eyes that were sparkling with passion, brightening his whole features. His lips kept on moving, mesmerizing me. His tongue darted out, wetting them, while he took a breath, and started talking again. I had the strongest urge to taste them, feel their texture on my tongue, and lick the bottom one. I wanted to lose my hands in his hair and pull it for him. To reveal his neck and bite his white skin, marking him. I was desperate for his eyes to be filled with desire for me and not from enthusiasm for his studies.
Why am I even resisting him?
My mind was blank from the lack of answer and my need for him just took charge of my whole body. My right hand grabbed his neck and drew him towards me. The left one circled his waist to secure him against me. His body heat was feeding the fire within me, pushing my lips to his, and tormenting them. My tongue forced its way inside him, consuming his breath. I wanted us to melt into one; to have his moans became mine, to be deep inside of him, feeling his feverish skin surrounding me.
“Jasper....” His desperate plea sent a shiver in my whole body. It was the first time I heard him say my name. There was so much longing and need in his voice, that I wanted him to be the only one to ever say my name again. The only one I kiss, the only I hold, the only one, period.
The fire of his kiss, our first one, had lightened up all my being and all shadows of fears and doubts had disappeared. I felt complete and serene: my life would be full of him.
-- "Lover's Spit" - Broken Social Scene --"To be alone with you" - Sufjan Stevens --"Into The Fire" - Thirteen Senses
AN : Hugs and kisses to OCDJen for pre-reading, and Penny, Mrs. Agget, for betaing.
Lots of thanks to those who reviewed, to the ladies and gentleman with whom I WC’ed, to the ones who send me love and show me support.
Disclaimer: I don't own Twilight.
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