A/N: Thanks to all who read and reviewed last time, and thanks to TwiSlash Unveiled and the Perv Pack's Smut Shack for the lovely write-ups.

It's been a while. Refresher: Edward and Jasper are boyfriends. Edward got pushed around at school and broke his wrist. Later that night, Jasper stole his brother's car, snuck into Edward's house to see him, and then, er... comforted him. With his mouth.

We're back to Jasper's POV here.

I cannot, under any circumstances, jerk off in Peter's 1967 Corvette.

I have to keep telling myself that as I drive home from Edward's, but my dick is throbbing and not making it any easier. If I wasn't worried about Peter catching me with his car, or if Edward hadn't looked so fucking cute all curled up and sleepy after he came, I'd probably still be in bed with him.

Unfortunately, Edward needs his rest, and I need to avoid becoming a victim of fratricide, so I had to go. I try to focus on how utterly awesome it is to be driving this kickass car for once-Peter's only let me drive it once before, at twenty miles per hour, and just around our block.

When I get home, his piece of shit everyday car is nowhere to be seen, and I do a little fistpump in the driver's seat as I pull smoothly into the garage. I hop out and double check to make sure nothing looks amiss-just one smudge on the handle, which I wipe clean with my sleeve.

I'm feeling on top of the fucking world as I open the garage door and strut to the kitchen, blue balls forgotten. I open the fridge to grab a soda before I head up to take a shower, and that's when I notice him.

Peter, sitting on the kitchen counter, staring right at me.

"Hey little bro," he says, his voice low and calm. I grab a Coke and close the refrigerator door just as he turns on the light.

"Uhhh... hey, Pete." I'm desperately trying to calculate an excuse, and clinging to a thread of hope that he didn't hear the car's engine and would believe that I went on a late night bike ride.

"Anything you wanna confess?" His eyes narrow and I know that no amount of scrambling or lying will get me out of trouble this time.

"Shit, Peter. Shit. I'm sorry. I didn't think you'd notice."

"You didn't think I'd notice? Like I don't know the exact mileage?" he scoffs. He hops down and I automatically back up, moving around the kitchen island as Peter stalks forward. I set my soda down on the counter, freeing up my hands for defensive measures.

Peter would never really hurt me.

But I've had enough noogies and headlocks in my lifetime to know that I'm in for some trouble if I can't get away from him.

"I'm sorry. I fucked up," I tell him, holding my hands up in surrender. He gets a little closer, backs me up against the pantry, and I wince in anticipation of the headlock and the yelling I'm expecting.

My eyes flash open, though, when there's just a gentle punch to my bicep.

"Don't do it again, fuckwad," Peter says, his expression softening. He ruffles my hair affectionately, walks back to the island, and picks up my discarded soda.

My jaw drops. Peter once flicked my ear for fifteen minutes when I used his coffee mug, and now I steal the car he's been rebuilding from scratch for three years and I get nothing? This must be a trick, part of some master plan to get revenge. He's lulling me into a false sense of security, and then BAM! He'll booby trap my bedroom or something.

The hiss of the soda can opening breaks my train of thought, and I watch Peter lean casually against the counter where he was sitting before.

"Is he okay?"

"What?" I ask, still trying to figure out his angle.

"Eduardo. Is he alright? Mom told me about what happened," Peter clarifies.

"Yeah. Uhh, yeah, he's fine. I went to see him and he fell asleep so I left." I leave out the other details of our visit-Peter and I are close, but we aren't that close.

"Good," he says, shuffling towards the hallway. He looks back at me, shakes his head, and adds, "You're lucky I like that kid."

"Thanks, Pete." I'm glad it's dark enough that he can't see me blushing, but it makes me really happy and sort of proud, knowing that my brother approves of my boyfriend. I have to remember to thank Edward for being cool and laughing at Peter's lame jokes-he saved my ass from what was sure to be an epic round of brotherly torture.

"G'night, Jay," Peter calls down the hall.


The next day, I have my phone in my hand pretty much at all times.

I text Edward when I wake up, when I'm on the bus to school, between classes, and at lunch. He keeps insisting that he's fine, that his wrist doesn't hurt that much, that he only stayed home from school because his mom offered to let him skip.

I'm in English, we're watching some boring movie. What are you doing? I ask, typing stealthily on my phone so the teacher won't see. It's after lunch and half the kids are falling asleep anyway, I don't think he's paying much attention.

I'm in my pajamas, eating Chinese food and watching Archer, he replies.

That's when I stop worrying about him and start getting jealous.

How's your wrist?

Not too bad. The pain pills are pretty good. Come over after school?

I debate on how to answer, my fingers skimming the surface of my phone as I think of an answer. Of course I want to go see him, but I'm not sure if I'm ready to deal with more of Mrs. Cullen. She didn't seem as awful as I thought she would be when I met her at the hospital, but I'm still afraid of her stopping me from seeing Edward.

Will you be alone? I text.

Yeah, Mom went to work at noon. She's picking Dad up at the airport at five thirty so they won't be home until after six.

If I leave right after school and take the bus... shit, I won't get to Edward's house until almost four. That only leaves us two hours before his parents get home. Unacceptable.

I'll be there at two, I text him, hurrying to send the message and put my phone away as the teacher flips the lights back on in the classroom.

"You just left?" Edward says, shaking his head like he's dismayed. He's sprawled out on the couch in the Cullens' giant media room, and I'm sitting in a ridiculously oversized armchair.

"Well it's not like I stormed out of the building. I went to biology, pretended like I was gonna puke, and got a pass to go to the nurse."

"Aren't they gonna check on that? Like won't someone realize you didn't show up at the nurse's office?" he asks, skeptical.

"I doubt it. It's Friday. The teachers all want to get out of there as soon as possible." I shrug, not really concerned with school at this point. "You act like you're not even happy that I'm here," I tease, tossing a throw pillow at him.

"Hey, I'm injured!" He holds up his cast and sticks out his bottom lip, fake-pouting. I hold my hands up in surrender and Edward grins. "I'm happy that you're here."

I duck my head a little, hoping he won't see the heat spreading over my cheeks. I really was just teasing, but it's kinda nice to hear him say it.

"So... what do you wanna do?" I ask, lifting my head just enough to look Edward in the eye. He sits up and stretches his arms over his head casually. "We could, uh, watch a movie."

Edward stands and tugs his pajama pants up a little higher on his hips. He's got a shy smile on his face as he steps closer, but he doesn't say anything about my suggestion.

"We could listen to some music," I offer. Edward's smile gets a little wider as he comes closer.

"We could... uh..." I stumble, swallowing hard as Edward kneels on the chair I'm sitting in, straddling my legs. The chair reclines a little and he loses his balance, so I reach up and wrap my hands around his waist to steady him.

"We could fool around," he says, settling on my lap. He's sort of sitting on my thighs, close but not close enough.

"But you're injured," I tease, even as I try to pull him closer.

"Oh, yeah, you're right," he says. "We shouldn't."

He tries to back up and I hold him tighter. "No, maybe you're right. I mean, it might make you feel better."

"Yeah?" He stops fighting me and inches closer, wrapping his good hand around the back of my neck. He brushes his lips over mine, just a shivery, barely-there kiss. "You always make me feel better," he whispers.

I pull him forward roughly, so his hips are flush against mine, and part my lips as he kisses me deeply. His weight feels so good against me, warm and solid, and I push and pull with my hands to encourage him to move against me. It's slow at first, almost gentle, but my hands get a little more urgent when I feel him getting hard.

"Yeah," he groans, bracing himself against the back of the chair so he can grind down against me. He finds a good rhythm on his own and I slide my hands up under his t-shirt, smoothing over his ribs and around to his back. Every inch of skin is warm, almost hot, and he shivers as my fingers skate over his shoulder blades.

"You feel so good," I whisper between kisses.

Edward pulls back and I whimper, trying to hold him close. "Just-your jeans," he says, reaching down between us. He unbuttons my jeans and tugs the zipper down, brushing his knuckles against my erection.

"Jesus. Fuck," I breathe, looking down between us as Edward slips his hand beneath the waistband of my underwear and squeezes me once.

"Lift up," he says, sitting up on his knees. He tugs my jeans down awkwardly and pushes them to my knees. I try to lift my legs and kick them off all the way, but Edward fits his body back to mine and starts kissing me again, hotter and more desperate this time, and my jeans don't make it past my ankles. "Oh God, I can feel you now," he groans, grinding down against me.

I can feel him, too, his dick rock hard and rubbing against mine through the thin layers of fabric between us. My hands drop down to his ass and I pull him closer, urge him to move faster. I love the way his muscles tighten as he moves, the way he seems to push back against my hands when he isn't pushing forward against my cock.

"Jas," he whispers, kissing up my jaw to my earlobe. "Mmm."

His breath is warm against my ear as he moans and clutches at my neck and shoulder with his good hand. I try to slide my hands up to his lower back, but Edward whimpers in disapproval. I need to feel more of his skin, so I slip both hands beneath the waistband of his pajama pants and cup his cheeks.

"I've been hard all day," Edward tells me, pausing between words to kiss my neck. "I woke up this morning thinking about what you did last night."

"Stealing Pete's car?" I ask, earning a low chuckle from Edward. I know what he's talking about, but I really, really want him to say it.

"No," he says, ducking his head so he can kiss my Adam's apple. "When you went down on me. It felt so good, Jasper. Did you... did you like doing it?"

He tucks his face into my shoulder as he asks, shy even though his hips are still grinding down against mine.

It's so easy to tell him the truth.

"Yeah, I liked it. I love making you cum, Edward, and you tasted so fucking good." I flex my fingers as I whisper to him, digging into his flesh. My left hand slips a little and my fingers brush the cleft between his cheeks.

His whole body shudders.

"Please," he moans, thrusting against me sharply. "Touch me there."

We haven't done anything like this, and to be honest I haven't even thought about it much. I've been so into Edward's dick, and Edward touching my dick, that I haven't let my mind wander to the other stuff we could try.

Tentatively I sweep my fingers over his crack again, just brush them up and down so lightly, but it makes Edward go crazy. He bites down on my neck and moans against me, moving faster even though I'm gentle and cautious with my fingers.

When I get bolder and press two fingers a little deeper, brushing against his asshole, Edward falls apart.

"Oh my God!" he cries, his whole body stiffening against me. It's so sexy and totally overwhelming, feeling him collapse against me and shake and shudder. I hold him tight, pulling my hands out of his pants to stroke his back as he comes down from his high.

"You're amazing," he whispers, when his breathing comes back to normal. "So hot, Jasper. You're so sexy." He lifts himself up enough to work a hand between us, beneath my waistband, and strokes me roughly.

I want to reply, to tell him I feel the same way, but my brain isn't functioning properly with his hand on my dick.

"Fuck," is all I can manage.

"I want to try," he breathes, his lips so close to mine. "I want to taste you. I want to suck this," he says, squeezing the tip of my cock as he twists his hand over it.

The idea of Edward on his knees with his mouth wrapped around my dick is so hot that it's over before it can begin.

"Edward," I gasp, arching up against him as my cum spurts up and covers his hand.

When I'm spent, my head lolling back against the chair, Edward pulls his hand out of my pants and leans back, giggling.

"I guess I'll give you a raincheck."

After we clean ourselves up in the downstairs bathroom, we collapse in the media room with a couple of bags of chips and some soda.

Edward pulls me onto the couch with him and curls up against my side.

It's a really awesome afternoon. I even make a point to call my mom around the time school normally gets out and tell her that I'm spending the afternoon at Edward's house. Fortunately she doesn't answer and I can leave a vague voicemail-I try to avoid actually lying to her. I just omit the fact that I left school a tiny bit early.

When I put my cell phone away, I notice Edward frowning and cradling his cast, trying to flex his fingers. "Do you need to take some medicine?"

"Yeah," he says, covering a yawn with his hand. He starts to stand up, but I put my hand on his shoulder to stop him.

"I'll get it for you. Where is it?"

He opens his mouth to protest, but I'm already on my feet.

"Upstairs, in my room." I run upstairs and grab the orange bottle from his bedside table, happy that I can do something to take care of him. When I get back to the TV room he's yawning and stretching like a cat.

I pop open the bottle, hand Edward a pill, and then try not to pay too much attention to the swallowing motion of his throat as he washes it down with soda. "Thanks," he says, setting down his Coke. Instead of sitting next to me he lays down on the couch with his head in my lap. "They make me a little sleepy."

"Take a nap," I tell him, combing my fingers through his hair. "I'll wake you up when I have to leave."

"I don't have to," he says, his words already mumbled as he starts to drift off.

I turn the volume down on the TV and watch game shows, petting Edward's hair occasionally. Five o'clock, I tell myself. That's when I'll wake him. It will give me time to say goodbye and get to the bus before his parents are anywhere near this neighborhood. Five o'clock.

"Edward? Edward, darling, we're home!"

My eyes blink open and the first thing I see is the clock on the cable box. Six thirty.


"Edward! Get up!" I hiss, shaking his shoulder roughly.

"Huh?" he says, startled awake.

"Get up! Your parents!"

"Shit," he says, scrambling to get up and off the couch. Disoriented, he looks around the room, tugging at his hair.

"Edward?" a man's voice calls, as heavy footsteps get closer and closer to the room we're in.

"In here, Dad!" Edward calls out, grabbing a blanket from the back of the couch. He spins around, looking for somewhere to go, but finally settles on the armchair we were sitting in earlier. "We're watching TV!" he says, gesturing for me to turn up the volume.

"Hey," the man's voice says, and Edward's dad-tall, blonde, and just as handsome as Edward-walks around the corner. He pauses when he sees me and offers a more formal, "Hello."

"Dad, this is my friend Jasper. He came over after school to keep me company."

"Jasper," Dr. Cullen nods, and I give him a small wave in return. My heart is still pounding out of my chest as I think about how close he came to walking in on us sleeping together on the couch. "Let me take a look," he says to Edward, moving past me to sit on the armrest of Edward's chair.

Silently Edward holds out his wrist, letting his dad examine the cast.

"Flex your fingers?" he says, and Edward complies.

"Well, it looks okay," Dr. Cullen finally says, letting Edward drop his arm back down to his lap. He ruffles Edward's hair briefly and says, "You gave your mother quite a scare."

"Sorry," Edward says, shrugging his shoulders.

"It wasn't his fault," I say, the words tumbling out of my mouth before I can stop them. I try to bite my tongue, but it's too late. Dr. Cullen looks at me and raises an eyebrow.

"The Cutler kid again?" he asks, turning back to Edward.


"When this gets healed up I'll show you some moves. Teach you how to fight back," Dr. Cullen says, tapping Edward's cast with one finger. "C'mon, we stopped at Marco's and picked up some pizza."

Edward's mom's voice startles me, and I turn my head to find her leaning against the doorway.

"Jasper, would you like to stay for dinner?"

The thought of dinner with the Cullens scares the crap out of me.

But... they're Edward's family. I'm going to have to deal with them eventually. And even though they don't know the extent of our relationship just yet, his mom did see us holding hands at the hospital yesterday, and she hasn't flipped out about it or anything.

I look over at Edward, but he's not giving me any indication about what he wants me to do. I have to decide on my own, and even though I'm worried about making a good impression-even though pissing off Edward's parents could really fuck up our relationship-I think it's worth it. Making Edward's parents actually like me could make our lives a lot easier.

"Sure," I say, smiling at Edward's mom. "I mean, thanks. I'd love to."

Thanks for sticking with me. :) Please let me know what you think. Is Jasper making the right call?

Oh, you want to read some more fic? Okay:

Shameless Self-Pimp:

Did you know I wrote something for the No Stress Love Fest? I did! Go check out the entries and see if you can guess which one is mine. :)

twi-love-fest. livejournal. com

Rec for people who want to recapture that "OMG THIS IS WHY FIC EXISTS!" feeling:

Meant to Be by Fr333bird


It's Seth/Riley, AU, and MESMERIZING. I get the privilege of pre-reading this fic and I'm routinely floored by how unusual, delightful, and downright SPECIAL this story is. Please check it out and put it on alert!