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Story Name: Caught off Guard

Rating: M

Genre: Angst/Drama

Word Count: 2,661

Summary: Love isn't easy or rational and that's what makes it unique. Edward x Carlisle live together and find themselves in a challenging situation. AU/slash, entry for the Carlward contest

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As I walk around the block for the third time in order to save myself from going home I can't help but wonder how we got here. With both of us avoiding each other pretending not to notice. We argue occasionally but not like this, lately every day it's something. I can't help but to think back to when we first met.

It was two years ago. I was sitting at my piano plucking out a melody, as usual, when my friend Alice called me up and invited me out for a drink. I started to decline since I wanted to finish that composition, but I decided what the hell why not have fun for once. I smile as I think of the first time that I laid eyes on him across a crowded bar. Alice was soon forgotten as I was drawn to him.

We had an instant attraction, a mutual love of music and hundreds of reasons not to be together. He had just broken up with someone; I had just come out, and the most obvious reason: our age difference. But I wouldn't let that stop us.

My smile widens as I remember wondering how someone like him would ever be interested in someone like me. Warmth spreads in my chest as I reflect on first dates, nights spent in passion, the thrust and pull of him entering me or me entering him.

Once, two month after we started hooking up, we went on a date to the nicest French Restaurant in the city. The waiter did not seem too pleased at the the scrunched up faces over Café gourmand and Tarte tatin but it gave us much to laugh over afterward when we ended up at Burger King. I think of hours spent sharing all of our darkest secrets and wildest dreams. I remember the day we were sitting quietly when he asked me if we should move in together.

A few months ago things started to change. It soon became apparent that being equals isn't our problem, neither is our aged difference. Ultimately we are our greatest problem. With this thought I know that we have so much between us that I have to have faith that this will pass as everything else does.

I jog up the stairs and walk into our apartment preparing myself to talk this out so we can get past this, whatever this is.

When I reach our bedroom I am caught off guard, completely unprepared for what I am seeing. I knew there was a chance this would happen, but I told myself that he wouldn't do this. Not to me, not to us. Just standing here I am nearly overwhelmed by emotions. I am shocked, angry, disappointed but most of all I am just hurt, hurt that he would do this. Despite everything that I am feeling, I am completely silent and just continue to stand here.

Watching.

Waiting.

Feeling.

I should move, shout, run or something but I can't. I can only stand here and watch the muscles in his back ripple in exertion, the tense and flex of his buttocks as he gives each thrust. I am condemned to see him in an act that was supposed to be special, just between us and hear him make sounds I thought he made only for me.

A whimper escapes and quickly I cover my mouth and then let my hand drop. I was not sure if I wanted him to know that I was here, but now it is too late.

He looks up at me, dead in my eyes, with an expression that's something akin to regret and shame clouding his face as he stops thrusting into the body beneath him. The trick he's fucking on the sheets I bought because he said the color brought out my eyes begins to moan. Both of us ignore the trick, not move an inch as we find ourselves in an odd stare down.

"I'm sorry," he whispers.

I nod. It's all I can do. I have nothing to say, nothing to offer, no words or actions. I simply nod again.

The trick arches his back and stretches out across our bed "Why did you stop?"

I stand still, watching him. He slowly pulls out yanking the condom off his dick and throws it haphazardly into the trash.

"What the fuck?" his trick hisses, rising to his knees, glaring back and forth between us. "He's hot. I'm down for another to join us."

I scoff with disgust at the suggestion.

Turning to the side but never moving his eyes off of me he says "You should go," In a cold harsh tone. I pause for a moment thinking that he means me before his trick jumps up shouting various fuck offs to both of us as he gathers clothing and stomps past me out of the room. I vaguely register our front door slamming but my focus is on the man standing before me.

"I'm sorry," he says again, this time as if he is in physical pain. Part of me wants to grab him and beg him to tell me why and make me understand. Another part wants to shrug it off with a smile and tell him it's okay, and that I get it. But I can't because it's not okay, I don't understand.

Suddenly, I am compelled to do something, anything. I have to move, I cannot stand still another moment. I make my way into the doorway of the bedroom. "Listen, please?" he asks. He stands there naked, gleaming with a thin sheen of sweat, smelling of sex, still semi-hard.

"No, I can't." I manage to rasp and quickly move past him toward the bathroom. Everything feels too small and my stomach begins to churn, I feel like I'm going to be sick and he needs to be out of my sight. I push past him, past our bed that now smells of sex and sweat belonging to him and someone I don't know. The thought of it makes bile start to rise in my throat.

"Please," he says, grabbing hold of my arm. I pause, swallowing hard. Maybe I won't rush to the bathroom, I think. It would serve him right if I threw up all over him, at least that would add something of me to the scents gracing our bedroom and this huge fucking mess he's made.

"I didn't think . . ." he says pausing for a moment as if to collect his thoughts.

"You didn't think what? " I ask unable to hold it in any longer. He twists his lips nervously and looks away from me as he says

"I didn't think you'd be home so soon."

Pathetic. Lame. Idiotic. Stupid. Ridiculous. What an insane thing to say. We both know it; he could do far better if he was going to make up something. Knowing we always vowed to be honest with each other even if it hurts, I call him on it. He would do the same to me. "That's your excuse for bringing some random ass into our home, and fucking him in our bed?" My tone conveys my disbelief. At least he has the decency to look chagrined, but right now I don't care.

It was his idea to be monogamous. After months, continuing to party, sharing our bed with the local talent-something he thought I needed and I thought he wanted-he was the one who suggested it be just us. I agreed because I knew I wouldn't be missing anything. I sometimes get the urge, but I never act on it. I wouldn't. I couldn't do that to him, to us, to our relationship.

But here I stand in a room reeking of someone else's fuck. And I can't help but feel . . . exposed despite him being the one standing here naked. The churning feeling is back in my stomach and tightness has taken over my chest. Unable to take it any longer, I cave. "Why?" I say in a whisper, dropping down onto the rumpled sheets of our bed. He sighs and the bed moves as he sits down beside me. I don't look at him, I can't.

"I don't know."

Anger flows from me like a tsunami rolling over land cresting upon him. "You don't know?" I shout as I turn toward him watching him shift back and his eyes go wide. I'm pissed and he knows it.

"It just kinda happened." he says in another pathetic attempt to explain.

"Oh! It just happened? Of course, right, I get it. You just happened to find a trick, happened to bring him home and then happened to stick your dick inside his ass!" I'm so furious I'm practically panting in his face.

He actually looks scared; he's not used to this level of anger coming from me. He's the hot tempered one, but right now he fucking deserves it.

Swallowing hard and clearing his throat he begins "You know things haven't been great lately. And I was so fucking tired of all of the shit. All of your shit!"

"And you decided that fucking someone else would fix that?" I reply hoping he will grasp the situation.

"No, no, I just. I wanted something uncomplicated." he says averting his glaze. I take a deep breath to calm myself, I don't like the answer but I know that it's the truth. He wouldn't lie to me. My head starts to ache, my hands are shaking I run my hands through my hair.

I look at him. He is watching me intently, trying to judge my next move. I'm tired, so tired and I don't want to deal with this anymore. He shifts as I start to move off the bed. "Where you going?" he asks.

"I'm gonna take a shower," I say in a voice barely above a whisper. He just nods, knowing it's not over.

"I'm…" he starts.

"Yeah," I cut him off not wanting to hear anymore.

As I strip off my clothes and move into the glass enclosure of our walk in shower, I turn the water on full blast. It's a little too hot, so I adjust it, figuring I've suffered enough torture for one day. I let out a deep sigh, as the water runs over me in tiny rivers, mapping a path through my hair, onto my face mingling with my tears I didn't want him to see before rolling down from my chest to my toes and disappearing down the drain's abyss. Part of me wishes I could follow its path and just disappear.

Honestly, I worried about this happening from the start. About us no longer fitting, about him deciding he wanted something else, something different. No matter how many times he told me this was it for him, I was it for him. I couldn't help but doubt it. I secretly worried that one day he would wake up and realize that he could do better.

The shower door clicks, and a breeze cools my overheated skin. I shiver. I want to scream, tell him to get out, but I don't. I can't find the words. His hesitancy as if it was a tangible element buzzing through the air.

He moves closer. His soapy hand runs in a tentative line down my back. He kisses me on the back of my neck and I try not to pull away. "I'm sorry," he says, his lips moving against my skin.

My muscles tense then give a little. "I'm so sorry," he tries again, and I let my forehead drop against the glass. I want to tell him to stop saying that. Tell him that the words mean nothing but I can't. I know things haven't been great, but I didn't think that they had gotten this far out of hand.

His hands run across my fingers, down my arms and then slip down to my thighs and up to my hips. He's pressing in closer behind me and I can feel his erection against my ass. I try to block out the image of him fucking the trick as he nudges insistently against me.

It didn't mean anything, it didn't mean anything. I repeat that over and over in my mind, as he confirms aloud, "It meant nothing." I just nod, because I know.

I hear a small crinkling sound, then a tear, feel the coldness as he pulls away for just a second, then he's back, and the water's still hot, but the closeness of him pressed against my back is even hotter. My body responds to him and I bend forward slightly, widening my stance. I know I shouldn't just give in but my body has other ideas.

I need him.

l will always need him.

I gasp as he inserts one finger and then two, gently stretching me as he places kisses across my shoulder and back. My breath hitches as he wraps his hand around my hip, guiding me and I feel the tip of his dick slip against my hole.

He's pushing firmly and sliding in an inch or two and then pausing before slowly pushing a little further and pausing again. He pushes harder, I grunt as he slides his length completely inside of me and gives me time to adjust.

Puffs of his breath form a circle on the glass and my ears are filled with our moans as the water cascades down onto us. I take a moment to memorize the feeling of being completely joined as we are at this moment. "Okay," I moan, pushing back the tiniest bit. His grip is firm on my waist, holding tightly as he slides out slowly, only about half-way, and then thrusts back in again.

"I love you," he voices against my back, placing kisses up and down my slippery flesh. "I need you," he adds and I moan. My emotions are running wild. He continues to thrust at a slow, steady pace and I feel myself building. He picks up the tempo and I know he is close.

As he slips his hand down the front of my body he teases my nipple and dips into my bellybutton before wrapping his hand firmly around my throbbing cock and I sigh in gratitude. The slapping sound of our wet flesh echoes in the room as he begins slamming into me over and over, never losing pace with his talented hand and brushing my prostate with every stroke.

"Oh, God," I gasp, my head tipped back, the water raining down onto my closed eyes and into my open mouth. Sensations overwhelming my ass, my cock, my heart, and I shout my release, only semi-aware of him silently shuddering behind me as he finds his own.

As I slump forward against the glass, I feel him slipping out of me. I am nearly overcome with the feeling of emptiness. The used condom hits the floor as he turns me around looking deep into my eyes.

"I really love you," he whispers, and I can see the remorse in his eyes.

"I love you, too."

He smiles lightly as he moves to wrap his arms around me and pulls me close. "I'm sorry, Carlisle".

I wrap my arms around him. "I know, Edward. I know."

And I do. He's young, he's figuring things out, but I need him and I love him.

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