Welcome!! I am so excited about this new story of mine. This is a long multi-chaptered Edward and Jasper fic that deals with growing up, learning who you are, friendship and love. Our two boys are in college, so they can have a potty mouth. There will be lots of swearing, shennanigans, laughter and slashtastic lemons on the horizon. ;)
Big thanks to Alisha (Mombailey) and Sarah (PhoenixRising25) because they are awesome. Their encouragement for this little story spurs me on, and I really appreciate it.
I don't own Twilight, but I really wish I did.
Looking down the half pipe, I feel as though I'm going to jump out of my skin. This is really high, like where the hell is my parachute high. What the fuck am I doing up here? I don't even skateboard. With the roar of the crowd ringing in my ears, I raise my eyes, taking in the fans and cameras, chanting my name, captivated by my every breath. Shit.
"You can do this, Edward," I mumble under my breath. "Don't be a pussy."
I put my board down, balancing it vicariously on the edge of the giant ramp, teetering between success and failure. God, I'm going to piss my pants.
My name, screamed by thousands, somehow infiltrates my ears even up here on the fucking Space Needle of skateboard ramps, pushing me further, building me up.
God, here goes nothing. As I take that final movement, leaning forward to plunge to greatness or broken legs, something jostles me from behind, hurtling me toward the hard wooden bottom.
"NO!" I wake up with a gasp, disoriented and afraid, sitting up brusquely in my bed. My heart is beating uncontrollably and my breath is haggard, coming out in sharp pants. Just a dream. It was a just a dream. Fucking skateboards.
In my peripheral vision, I sense movements in the dark, so I turn my head.
"What the hell are you doing?" I yell out, startling him. I quickly throw back the covers and turn on the lamp beside my bed, lighting the scene of the crime.
"Oh, Edward," he starts, stuffing himself back into his pants.
"Did you just piss in the sink?" I interrupt, emphasizing my question with an incredulous glare, daring him to lie to me.
"Yes," he answers, turning back to look at me with those wide, unblinking eyes.
Sighing, I pinch the bridge of my nose in disgusted frustration. "Do you mean to tell me," I begin, shaking my head in disbelief, "that instead of walking forty feet down the fucking hall to use the toilet, you decided to whip your dick out and piss in the sink in our room, the sink we BOTH use, where I brush my teeth?"
"You know, Edward, cursing is very unbecoming," he says, talking down to me in his nasally tone. "I really don't see what that big deal is." He shrugs, and I clench my fists to stop myself from punching him in the goddamn throat. "Urine is sterile."
"Urine is sterile," I repeat through gritted teeth, furrowing my brow.
"Some people even drink their own urine," he continues with a smile. The image runs through my mind. Thank god, I don't have much of a gag reflex.
I am about to murder his ass, just chop him up with a butter knife. If I plead extreme annoyance, how much time behind bars would I have to do? I think I saw that episode of Law & Order, and the blonde chick got them out of jail time, right?
"Listen, Eric," I say, trying to keep calm because I swear it's like talking to a brick wall. "Please don't pee in the sink. I would appreciate it if you used the bathroom down the hall. Also, even though urine is sterile, could you clean the sink with some Clorox or something?"
"Don't get your panties in a twist," he guffaws like a fucking donkey, making the hairs on the back of my neck stand straight out, like he just ran his nails over a chalkboard. Cringing, I watch as he just gets in his bed and goes back to sleep.
I stare at him for a few minutes because this has got to be some kind of joke, some hidden prank show or something. I'm just waiting for Ashton Kutcher to jump out of the closet, and he's not going to like it when I punch him in the balls.
"Fucking Eric," I mutter under my breath as I drag my tired ass out of bed. I grab the spray cleaner from under the sink and then completely cover every surface with it, hopefully killing all of Eric's piss germs.
I contemplate dipping his fingers in warm water, letting him pee on a surface that is all his, but he probably wouldn't even notice, making the room stink like piss until I washed his sheets. I close my eyes tight, praying for sleep, but one thought keeps running through my mind.
I can't fucking live like this anymore.
All too soon, my alarm clock invades my dream, irritating me until I crack open one of my eyes. Reaching over to make it stop blaring at me, I look around the room.
I'm tempted to just turn over and pretend to sleep until he leaves, avoiding him completely, but I have class in thirty minutes. I sit up, stretching my arms over my head and yawning, but I keep my back to him. I can feel his eyes on me the entire time, so I reluctantly get out of bed and face him.
He's sitting on his bed in his Transformers pajamas, legs crossed, working on a model airplane. He just LOVES model airplanes. There are about thirty of them hanging from the ceiling on his side of the room.
"Good morning, Edward," he greets in a sing-song voice. He stops painting to stare at me until I leave the room. It's kind of become our thing. I had no say in that decision.
"Morning," I mumble as I grab my shower kit and robe, slipping on my flip flops.
"Off to take a shower?" He questions with a manic smile and blink less stare.
"Obviously," I whisper to myself, giving him a nod in answer.
I hightail it down the hall toward the bathroom, sighing in relief once I am behind the curtain and the warm water is beating down on my head.
With the water soothing away some of the tension I seem to continuously carry in my shoulders and back, an Eric muscle cramp if you will, I let my mind think back over my first few months at college.
I was so excited about starting college this past fall, alone and on the other side of the country. I didn't give a second thought to checking potluck on my dorm application and having the university choose a roommate for me. I figured that I would just end up with a guy like me, friendly but no friends at UW. It was someone's job to make the best possible matches, right? I mean, at the least, all we had to do as roommates was just respect each other and our personal space and get through this year. Damn, I even thought we could be friends.
Of course, that was before I actually moved in and met him.
An involuntary shudder runs through my body at just the thought of his name. God, he is a creepy motherfucker. The moment he arrived, he put his face about three inches from mine, exclaiming that we were going to be best friends. I backed away, hoping he would pick up on my nonverbal clues to get out of my personal space. He just watched me with a wide grin as I positioned myself on the other side of the room, his brown eyes following my every movement.
He is just so strange. I suppose I have lived a somewhat sheltered life, so dealing with a guy like Eric is an entirely new experience for me. I was born and raised in Wilmington, Illinois, a small town about an hour outside of Chicago. Now, there may not have been a lot of variety when it comes to the people I grew up around, but I have always considered myself to be rather liberal. My parents raised both my sister Alice and I to respect everyone, no matter their race, class or gender. I like to think I have a pretty open mind, and I gave Eric the benefit of the doubt, over and over and over and over again.
I kept thinking that maybe he's just nervous about being far away from home for the first time, so being the nice guy that I am, I decided to grant him a little leeway. He just seems to grow weirder as time goes on, though, and I officially ran out of leeway about a week after school started.
Shit, I can deal with the dorky way he dresses – the same Pokemon t-shirt every damn day, the Crocs and the Lee blue jean shorts that hit about five inches above his knee -- because I don't have to hang out with guy outside of the dorm. It is the way he constantly watches every move I make, the motherfucking bongos and the Abba music that makes me want to rip my hair out.
Not to mention the weird phone conversations he has every night with his mother. I ran out of the room in shock the first time I heard him talking to her. Listen, I am all for familial bonds, but when you say you wish your mother was there to kiss your lips, it's disgusting. So, on top of everything else, his Oedipus tendencies had me teetering on the ledge for a while now.
The pissing in the sink incident of last night just officially pushed me over.
After class, I grab a coffee to perk me up since my sleep was interrupted so heinously last night, and I hightail it toward the Administration buildings. After asking fifteen people, I locate the Housing Office, sign-in and wait to be called on.
Smiling at the older lady in the flowered pantsuit who called my name, I grab my backpack and hop up quickly, following her into her office and taking a seat in the hard, plastic chair.
"What can I help you with?" She asks unenthusiastically.
"I would like to switch to a single room," I reply as cheerily as possible.
Without glancing at me, she slides a piece of paper across the desk. "Fill this out, give it to the receptionist outside, and we will put you on the waiting list. There might be an opening at the end of the semester. Have a nice day."
"I can't wait that long!" I insist, sliding the paper back across the desk. "Please, Mrs...." I pause glancing down at her name tag. "Ms. Googenhurt." I don't even laugh at her name which is a direct reflection of how serious I am about this. "If I have to stay in my current room, I can't be held responsible for my actions."
She finally looks at me, her drawn on arched brow raised with question.
"What exactly are you saying, Mr. Cullen," she responds in an irritated tone. "Are you threatening bodily harm on your roommate? Do I need to bring the police into this matter?"
"Of course not," I plead, giving her the saddest face I can muster on the whim.
She still looks unswayed, forcing me to bring out the Cullen pout. I didn't want to have to sink to this level.
Her eyes flicker to my bottom lip, but she just shakes her head with a sigh. Damn. She takes out a Sam's Club sized bottle of hand sanitizer and practically bathes in it, switching on the figurative light bulb above my head.
"Ms. Googenhurt, last night," I start with a small intake of breath, covering my mouth with one hand and clutching my heart with the other, "I woke up to find him urinating in our sink."
At this, her eyes grow wide with shock. "Oh my," she gasps with actual feeling, and I jump up and down on the inside with excitement.
"I am just in shock," I continue with a shaky voice. I really should have gone into theater or something. This shit is gold. "I'm scared for my health living in that environment, Ms. Googenhurt."
"You poor boy," she sighs sympathetically. That's right, Googie; I have you eating right out of my hand. She gets up, moving rather slowly toward the door, her polyester clad legs rubbing together noisily with each step. Shutting it quietly, she heads back to her chair. It takes about fifteen minutes, but she finally opens her mouth to speak through heavy breath.
"Alright, Mr. Cullen," she wheezes. "I think I can help you. There are no single rooms available, but I can switch you into a different dorm with a new roommate."
I nod eagerly. "That's great. Thank you so much. This means the world to me. How soon?"
"You can move this weekend," she responds with a yellow toothed smile before she turns to the computer. She starts tapping furiously, really pounding away on those poor keys. After what seems like an eternity, the printer behind her shoots out a couple of papers, and she looks back at me.
"Alright, Mr. Cullen," she says, grabbing the paperwork and stapling it together. "Your new room is located in Mercer Hall. You can move in this weekend. You will need to turn in your keys to your RA, and then register and get your key and fob from a RA in your new dorms today before five."
I take the papers from her hand, resisting the urge to just snatch them and run. "Thank you so much, Ms. Googenhurt. I am forever in your debt."
She raises her hand, dismissing my words of gratitude. "Just stay clean," she says with a smile.
With that, I am out the door, practically skipping across campus back to the room like a motherfucking girl, ecstatic and giddy. Yeah, giddy.
It's funny how Sunday always seems to roll around so quickly even when you really don't have anything to do. Not this weekend, though. This weekend, I packed and moved all my shit across campus to my new dorm. That may not sound like much, but when you don't have a car, moving everything you own to the other fucking side of campus, really wears a guy down. Luckily, Eric went home this weekend for his cat's birthday, so he won't even know I'm leaving. I'll let the RA share the good news.
Finally settled and relaxed on my freshly made bed, my stomach rumbles, and I can't ignore the call. It's like that giant talking Venus Flytrap in that movie my dad forced me to watch over the summer... Feed Me, Edward. Feed Me. Glancing at my watch, I see that it's only six o'clock which is not very late, so I consider my options. I could make Easy Mac or Ramen in the dorm, or grab something on campus. It's Sunday which means food on campus is limited, but it is probably worth the risk. A guy can't live on noodles alone.
I grab my coat and backpack and head for the door, hoping that they have something good in the caf. As usual, since it's the weekend, the cafeteria is pretty dead. There's pizza, though, so I'm happy. I grab a plate and a booth, taking out a short story for my English class tomorrow, making up for the fact that I'm sitting alone.
After stuffing my face with the pepperoni goodness and taking a mental note to hit the gym, I make my way across campus slowly, casually rambling down the shrub encased sidewalks, taking my time to get back to Mercer Hall, my new dorm. My stomach flutters uncomfortably because my new roommate might be in the room now. I shouldn't be nervous about this situation, but after Eric, I think I have the right to some reservations.
My new roommate was out all weekend, so I had the room to myself. I should say that I left his side alone, but I would be lying if I said I didn't snoop around his shit just a little. He seems like a normal guy, thank god, a history major from the titles of his books, but I'm not even hoping for friendship with him. Shit, mutual avoidance would be just fine with me after the freakshow I just escaped.
My phone buzzes annoyingly in my pocket, so I grab it and let out an involuntary groan at the name on the Caller ID.
"Talk to me," I answer obnoxiously just to annoy her. It's what older brother's do best.
"Do you have to answer the phone like that?" She screeches. "You have no manners!!"
"Oh, I have excellent manners," I respond in a suave tone. "I just don't see the reason I should waste them on you."
"Whatever," she mutters. "Dad said you got a new roommate. What is he like? He has to be better than Eric. I can't imagine having to live with someone like that! I told you were stupid for going potluck. It would have been better to live alone. Well, I guess as long as this guy doesn't sniff your stinky socks, right?" She blurts everything out so quickly that I have no chance to reply. With Alice as a sister, it can be hard to get a word in edge wise.
"Well, why are you being so quiet?" She asks indignantly. "What's his name at least?"
"I don't know his name," I sigh into the phone, already exhausted from talking to her.
"He's your roommate, Eddie. How do you not know his name?"
I roll my eyes at her sarcastic tone. This phone call has already lasted about ten minutes too long, and we have only been talking for three.
"First of all, don't call me Eddie, and well, it's the middle of the semester, this was all last minute and he was out all weekend," I answer her smugly. "Do you know the name of strangers?"
"Yeah, that's you, Alice. Not everyone has to have control over every little thing in their life."
"Oh, give me a break, Edward," she snorts. "Don't give me any bullshit about control. If something is not going you're way, you freak out like a little girl."
"Bullshit? Really?" I tease. "Do you kiss your father with that mouth?"
"Ewww," she moans. "Why do you have to make everything so gross?"
"I suppose it's just a talent of mine," I boast jokingly. "As much as I enjoy talking to you little sister, is there something specific that you needed?"
"Yeah, Dad wanted me to ask if it would be alright if I visited you next month for a few days," she chirps into the phone.
"Why?" I question suspiciously.
"Can't I just want to visit my brother?" She asks in an obviously fake dejected voice. Please, I know it takes a lot more than that to piss off Alice.
"Why?" I repeat in a slow voice, dragging it out.
"I am a senior now. I could want to go to school there!" She exclaims with a huff.
"Sure," I state. "You want to move to a city where it rains 5 days out of 7. That is going to do wonders for your hair."
"You're one to talk, Edward," she scowls into the phone. "You have more hair products than I do to make sure you have that I-just-rolled-out-of-bed-and-don't-care-about-my-hair-but-it-actually-took-like-two-hours-to-make-it-look-like-this-because-I'm-a-total-tool look," she sneered in one breath.
I roll my eyes again but don't fight her. It's just not worth it. "Just tell me the real reason, Alice?" I plead.
"Dad has a medical conference out of state, and he doesn't trust me alone at the house," she replies, finally giving in. She can be so freaking stubborn.
"Don't you have school?"
"It's the week of Thanksgiving break, and since you only have Thursday and Friday off, he wants me to come visit you on Saturday. Then, we can fly back together!" She exclaims. I can picture her bouncing around the room, clapping her hands together with this statement. Alice has too much energy for her own good.
"I'll still have class on those three days, so you might have to entertain yourself," I mutter, hoping to discourage her.
"Hello?" She asks in a way that has been perfected by teenage girls the world over. "Seattle has some fantastic shopping. I'm sure I can handle some time on my own."
"Fine." I respond a little too sharply.
"Don't sound too excited about it, jeez, Edward," she replies in a hurt voice. Damn it.
"No, Ali, come on," I sweet talk into the phone. "It's gonna be great. We'll have a good time. I'll ask Bella if you can stay in her dorm with her at night, so you don't have to crash in the guy's dorm."
"Really?" She asks, sounding disappointed. "I was kind of looking forward to the unisex bathrooms."
"Damn it, Alice! Don't say shit like that to me," I growl.
"Okay, okay, I'll stay in the girl's dorm," she says through laughter before letting out a gasp. "Wait! Who's Bella? Is she your girlfriend?!?"
I run my fingers through my hair, tugging lightly to take my mind off the frustrating pixie five states away. "No," I answer gruffly. "She's in my English class. She's become a good friend. You'll like her."
"Do you like her?" She asks in a high voice, giggling into the receiver.
"I'm hanging up now, Alice."
"Fine. I'll talk to you later. Love you," she squeals into the phone.
"Yeah, yeah, you too, and pass that on to dad," I return her sentiments. Alice may get on my nerves, but it doesn't mean I don't love her. It may sound lame to tell your sister that, but when you have been through a loss like we have, you don't take your family for granted.
I flip the phone closed and shove it in my pocket. I take out my new fob and waive it in front of the censor, unlocking the main door. My new room is on the fourth floor, and to help work off the fourth slice of pepperoni, I take the stairs.
Walking down the hallway, I am suddenly in a fantastic mood simply because the realization hits me once more that I no longer live with Eric, and what a fucking amazing thing that is. To compliment my mood, I decide to leave some notes on the dry erase boards on the doors of a few of the guys on my new floor.
For Rick and Tom, I write: Tom, I fucked your girlfriend.
Bobby and Adam get: Adam – Bobby teabags you at night.
And, for la pièce de résistance, River and Moses will enjoy: I pooped in your cornflakes.
Ah, the joys of being a 19 year old male with a little too much free time. I know this is immature and not very original, but it can be erased easily. Besides, it's all in good fun. Anyway, who names their kid River or Moses?
I pause on the outside of room, taking a deep breath to help steel my nerves. I cross my fingers with one hand and put the key in the lock with the other. I turn the knob and open the door, keeping my eyes on the ground until it shuts behind me with a defining bang. There is no going back.
"Hello," a voice calls out from the other side of the room, and I reluctantly lift my eyes. Taking in my new roommate, I let out the breath I didn't even know I was holding. He looks pretty fucking normal to me. I can hear the angels weeping in relief.
He stands, walking toward me with a small smile on his face. He's a little taller than my 6'1, and he seems to have a little more definition than me. I don't think I could take him in a fight. He has a vest on which is not my style, but he seems like a pretty average guy.
I give him a close lipped smile in return and extend my hand which he willingly shakes. I can tell he has quite a grip, but he doesn't use full force on my hand which I appreciate. I really hate that bone crushing handshake that some guys give.
"Hi, I'm Edward Cullen, and that's my shit," I joke, pointing at my new bed and desk.
"Yeah, I was wondering who that belonged to," he replies with a laugh. "Jasper Whitlock, nice to meet you."
"You, too," I agree. "You don't build model airplanes, do you?" I ask with bated breath.
"Umm... no," he answers in a confused tone, furrowing his brows together.
"Great," I respond enthusiastically. "I think we're going to get along just fine, Jasper."
"I take it your last roommate was a strange one," he says with a chuckle.
"You have no idea."
So, one chapter down. :) I will be rotating between Edward and Jasper each chapter. I hope you are ready for Jasper!
A review gets you a sneak peek for ch. 2. I'll make it good.
Review, Please. Awesome. Thanks!