Written for the Fandom Against Juvenile Diabetes Fundraiser. Beta'd by the never tiring Songster.
Ever since Jasper saw a picture of Edward Cullen – new and youngest resident pianist at the Seattle Symphony ever – in a local newspaper, he couldn't stop thinking about him. But nothing could have prepared him for seeing the autistic musical genius in the flesh.
(A Little Green And Easybella Outtake. AH. Jasper POV.)
Good to know:
It is not necessary to have read the main story to understand and enjoy this stand alone outtake.
For LG&E readers, just a quick reminder: Jasper was first introduced in chapter 22, when Edward went to Aro's music store to buy a wrest. (A wrest is a tool used to tune a piano)
This one-shot is slash. As in, boysecks. And yes, there's a bit of a smutty lemon.
LG&E readers: (Oh noez, Little Green and slash?) No worries, I was being gentle and considerate when I wrote this.

Dedicated to 17ForeverLisa. Your rockstar says, "You rock!"

(A Little Green And Easybella Outtake)

"Want something to drink?" I'm bent over with my head in the fridge, wondering if he's just now ogling my ass. I can hear his socks-clad feet shuffle on the linoleum-covered floor; he's made himself comfortable already, getting rid of his shoes. Ah yes, why waste time?

"I have beer and… beer," I say, turning around with a bottle of Corona in each hand.

He is slowly meandering through the room with his back to me, and I can't help but smile at the sway of his hips. He overplays it, knowing that I'm watching, but that's okay. And I didn't take him home because of his cute ass anyway.

It was his hands that did it for me. It was those long fingers that are now casually grazing along the packed rack with my vinyl collection...


I hadn't noticed his hands right away that day when Edward Cullen showed up at Volturi Violins. I guess I was too busy staring at his face. And that's saying a lot about his face because usually, peoples' hands are the first thing I check out right after the hello.

I'm a bit obsessed with hands, ok? Sue me, but as a musician, I think hands can tell you a lot about a person, especially if they come to buy a musical instrument in a store like Aro's.

We don't sell the Made in China stuff here. My boss is a top-notch luthier, old school, and Italian at that. Passionate and shit, you know. Aro's babies are handmade, all of them - from the delicate violin to the black semi-acoustic jazz guitar, my personal favorite. One day I'm gonna buy it for myself; all I have to do is keep it in the store long enough for me to save the money. I already told people the guitar was poor in proportion to price. Twice! Aro would have my testicles for antipasti if he knew – with extra virgin olive oil.

Anyway, what I'm saying is, you gotta mean business if you want to play one of Aro's babies, and by business I mean, you gotta fucking feel and love and live music. Store policy. My boss has his own ways to tell if someone's worth allowing them to adopt one of his masterpieces. Don't even ask; it's weird. Italian voodoo or something. For me, it's the hands, always the hands.

And Edward Cullen's hands... holy shit!


He's come to the end of the long row of record covers and turns around to me with a smirk. "Impressive," he says.

"Thanks!" I walk over to him. "You like music?"

"I like you," he replies huskily and reaches for my hips.

Okay, I guess that means no music talk. Just as well.

I'm still holding the bottles, so I can only watch as he hooks his thumbs into the waistband of my jeans and gives it a sharp tug, making me stagger a little.

"Whoa... uhm, that's good to know," I chuckle and hold a beer out to him. "You want?"

He slowly shakes his head no. "You know what I want."

Okay. No music talk, no beer. Let's cut out the shit then.

"Yeah? And what exactly is that?"

"I want to make you feel gooooood..." he whispers, "really, really good. Isn't that why you brought me here?"

He starts to unbuckle my belt and bats his lashes in what's obviously supposed to be a seductive way. It doesn't really work, but it's kinda cute and… amusing. Stifling a laugh, I answer, "Yup."

"I noticed you right away, you know," he continues, making quick work of my belt and button fly. "And I knew you were watching me dance. You liked what you saw. I knew you would pick me before you knew it yourself."

Oh come on, seriously? And I just thought you were cute…

He takes the bottles from my hands and deposits them on the desk behind him. I let my arms drop down as he shoves his hands into my jeans and underneath my boxers to cup my ass cheeks. He pulls me close until our hips meet, and from what I can feel down there, he's already enjoying himself. My own dick however hasn't decided to play along yet.

"So what do you want?" he says, unfazed. "Are you going to fuck me? What do you want, baby? My ass? My mouth? What do you want?"

Jesus, what the fuck is wrong with this guy?

He wasn't that blathering in the club as far as I remember. Is this supposed to turn me on? This is all wrong, his voice, the things he says. Can't he just…?

"Mmhh... I can suck you off so good. Come on, baby, tell me what you want."

He starts licking my Adam's apple, and I've had enough. I grab his shoulders roughly and he stills immediately.

"What I want, baby," I growl, "is for you to shut the fuck up."

His eyes grow wide and he gasps. A rosy shade is tinting his cheeks, and when his shock wears off after a few seconds, one corner of his mouth curls up into a half smile.

Yeah, thought so…

"You're not going to talk unless I ask you to. Are we clear?"

He nods his head yes frantically, and I could swear the bulge in his pants just grew. The little fucker likes it.

I let go of his shoulders and take a step back. "Don't worry, I will tell you what I want. And you will do what you're told, right?"

Again with the nod. The excited grin on his face would be endearing if it weren't for the lack of the slightest spark of… what? Personality? Intelligence? Anima? I don't know. He is cute, pretty face and all that. He's just not... fuck...

…he is just not Edward!


Of course I knew right away who he was; Aro hadn't talked about much else but his wunderkind when Edward Cullen had hit the local news a few month ago. He immediately intrigued me. The youngest resident pianist of the Seattle Symphony ever, he must be really special.

Suddenly, the stories Aro told me about when he had come to the store as a kid and miraculously worked the piano, sounded believable. I understood he was autistic, but that only fueled my curiosity. That and his face.

I think I stared at the newspaper clipping with his photo that Aro had pinned to the wall so often, his face was imprinted on my retinas. But that didn't prepare me for seeing him in the flesh; it didn't prepare me for his beauty. I expected him to be a fine specimen, but fuck… cameras didn't seem to love him. Or maybe they were just overwhelmed, too. That newspaper shot did him no justice.

I didn't let it show but had an embarrassing 'fangirl' moment of sorts, I don't know… the initial shock and excitement of seeing Edward Cullen standing right in front of me in the store just wouldn't wear off. I almost wanted to squeal or something and tell him, 'Dude, I have tickets for your upcoming show and I can't wait to see you play, and you're totally gorgeous, by the way!'

Yeah, right…

I was so gone; I almost didn't notice the petite brunette in his company. She seemed to be a bit older than him, but maybe that was just because she looked a little tired. Apart from that she was cute, pretty actually, in an unobtrusive way. Despite my love of tatts and metal and a bit of eyeliner every now and then, I do like the natural type in a girl.

Yes, I do like girls, so what? I'm not gay. I'm not straight either. I just like sex, a lot.

Call me undecided if you want to, but I don't think much about it when someone turns me on. A pretty face, smooth skin, the hair, the scent, a sexy voice, a cute ass… any detail can catch my eye before the gender even registers with me.

I know beauty when I see it. And beauty is not just a hot exterior anyway; if there's not a good personality coming with the package, its appeal wears off pretty soon.


"Get naked and sit down," I bark at him, pointing my chin towards the bed behind me.

He moves without hesitation, hastily unbuttoning his shirt and shrugging out of it. He shoves down his pants and boxers and then steps out of them, along with his socks in one go.

Eager, much?

And there he stands, his hard-on twitching excitedly, as if waiting for my approval. I raise my brows, and his expression falls a little, but then he rushes past me and I hear the bed-springs creak behind my back as he sits down on the edge of the mattress.

Good boy.

Without turning around, I start to methodically undress myself. When I'm done stripping, I look down at the pile of clothes at my feet.

"What's your name?" I ask, still with my back to him.

"Riley," he answers a little shakily.

I close my eyes and take a deep breath. "The nightstand, Riley. Top drawer."

Wood scrapes on wood, followed by the quiet crackle of tin foil.

Only in your dreams, dude!

"Just the lube," I order. "Leave the condoms."

I turn around and search his eyes. They are wide, and a little worried now. They are also glazed over with lust. They are not green.

Fuck. Me.

I quickly avert my gaze and focus on his fingers instead. Those are really pretty.

"Listen, I'm not going to fuck you. I don't care how tight that little ass of yours is, or how talented you are with your mouth."

He gasps.

"Lube your hands, Riley. Let's see how good you are with your fingers…"


I definitely would have been attracted to the pretty brunette with those big brown eyes and her animated face, if she hadn't been outshone by the sheer beauty of the man next to her.

It was not only the sex hair (I really couldn't think of any other way to describe that unruly mane, begging for me to rake my fingers through it), or the lickable jaw. It was not his almost femininely curved mouth; the way he left his lips slightly parted all the time, or the unusually bright green of his eyes. It was the sum of it all, and more.

There was something about him, something special. It didn't bother me that he didn't answer my smile or that he didn't catch on to my lame attempt at flirty banter. I mean, he didn't even really look at me, but he was absolutely present. His entire focus seemed to be the here and now; I felt an instant connection and it was fucking intense.

I didn't even think, 'please let him be gay, or bi at least!' Hells, I'm not even sure if thinking along those lines would be okay, considering his special condition. Although… come to think of it, why not? I mean, autistic people do have sex too, right? Anyway, the one thing that really kept repeating itself in my mind was, 'Please let him see me!'

Whatever the fuck that means.

He was perfect. No, he was better than perfect – he was too good to be true. He was fucking Edward Cullen, the pianist. And he was the most beautiful human being I'd ever seen.


"Spread your legs," I order, and he follows. When he notices what I'm about to do, he eagerly scoots back a little to make room for me. I sit down between his thighs and, bracing myself on my hands behind me, I lean back until my shoulder blades touch his chest. He is literally vibrating with excitement but keeps perfectly still, waiting for my next command.

He doesn't speak, just like I told him, and I'm grateful for that. In this position, I don't have to look at him, and I'm grateful for that, too. The skin on skin contact feels good; his build and height are just about right and I can easily imagine that the heat I feel on my back is the heat radiating from Edward Cullen's naked body.

"Your hands," I whisper. "Put them on my thighs, palms up."

His hands appear between my arms and my torso, and he rests his wrists on my legs, carefully to not smudge my thighs with the lube. They look good, almost like Edward's. Almost. But the sight of his long, elegant fingers is enough to make my dick stand at attention.


Please touch me, Edward.

I'm startled for a second, before I realize I haven't said it aloud. Okay…

"You want to make me feel good? Play me," I say.

There's no hesitation. He grabs my hard cock with both hands, gently but firmly. He doesn't close his fingers around the shaft, but rubs it between his palms… up and down, effectively spreading the lube. He's rubbing and twisting and circling the tip a few times with his slick hands, and I grow even harder.

Fuck, this is good.

I start thinking that this will be pretty quick if he keeps doing that, but before I can say anything, he changes tactics all by himself. He lets go of me and my dick gets exposed to the cool air for a moment, standing at a sharp angle and twitching against my stomach as if in protest. My hips jerk when he uses just his index fingers to stroke the underside from the root to the glans… just the fingertips, taking turns, teasing, driving me crazy.

Right when I think I can't take it any longer, his right hand closes around my shaft and gives a few purposeful pumps, and I immediately feel my insides pumping too... hot, throbbing, burning... I don't want to come yet... not yet... not...

"Wait, wait, wait... fuck, wait!" I hiss, and he stops immediately. His hands hover mid-air, and mesmerized I watch as he rubs his fingertips against his thumbs, feeling the lube and, yes my precum too. Fuck, my precum glistening on Edward's fingertips – well, he is not Edward but – it is such turn on just thinking of it.

As soon as my breathing has slowed down the slightest bit, he touches me again, and this time I become convinced he's going to kill me. With both his thumbs he pushes my cock a little away from my body, only to let it whip back and slap against my belly… once, twice. Then his fingertips, all his fingertips of both his hands run up and down the sides of my cock. Never all the way up, just to a point right under the ridge and back down again, both hands simultaneously. And yes, there's a bit of fingernails too.

My hips lift off the mattress all by themselves, and I think I just moaned his name. Whose name? I don't know…I think I'll scream if he doesn't stop this; I think I'll scream if he does.

"Gawwd!" I grunt. I'm getting desperate and bring my own hand forth to help myself. But he swats it away and starts pumping me again… finally… quick, hard strokes… fuck, yessss!


It didn't change anything for me when I learned that the woman, Bella, was his girlfriend.

First I thought she was some kind of, you know, service person. It was the way she was watching him, ready to jump into action at any moment. Maybe he needed an interpreter of sorts; how should I know? His communication was a bit awkward. Until Aro joined us, that is.

The way he spoke to Aro was almost easy-going. And he spoke Italian, for fuck's sake! I almost swooned. And yeah, I felt a brief twang of jealousy when he introduced Bella, not going to lie. But it was not the thought that he was taken, it was the way he looked at her.

I just wanted him to see me. It was such a disappointment that he never looked me in the eye, not even when I coaxed him into giving me a high five. Yes, I know people with autism often have trouble facing other people, but he did face HER. He saw HER!

I won't lie and say I didn't have any sexual fantasies about Edward Cullen in the days that followed. I had a lot of very explicit scenarios starring a very naked Edward running through my mind. But in nine out of ten daydreams I just fantasized about his green eyes finally locking with mine.

Like, you know, me going to his place to retrieve the wrest he had borrowed from Aro. He would open the door and look me in the eye and return my smile. And he would ask me in and we would talk for hours about music. And he would really look at me, and see me for who I am. And we would connect, maybe exchange a hug in the end and he would ask me to come back.

That was my favorite daydream.

Of course, I never did that... going to his place. It was tempting, since he had insisted on leaving his address, so we would know where the wrest was. But I knew he would come to the store to bring it back; all I had to do was wait. It felt like I had already waited a hundred years for someone like him to show up in my life; I could easily wait a few days more.

Don't get me wrong; I had no intention whatsoever to steal him from Bella. I could tell she was his sun, and he was revolving around her. But I really, really hoped he would come to the store without her next time, because I was hell-bent on making him see me, no matter what it would take.

I had to!


I'm going to come. I won't say stop this time, no way! I wanna fucking come. Now! Just one or two more strokes, and I'm there. Just one…

And suddenly his hands are gone.

What the...?

"Fuck, what are you doing?" I pant, too shocked to do anything about it. I look down at my twitching, trembling cock. The head is a deep purple at this point, ready to erupt. I can't remember the last time I've been that hard. I can feel the heat radiating from his hands that are hovering close to my cock.

"Oh shit…" I hear myself whimper.

"Yes?" he quietly says behind me. What was his name again? He is not Edward…

"I wanna come," I grind out through clenched teeth and involuntarily thrust my hips. "I wanna fucking come!"

"You will. Trust me, you will come so hard." Riley! His name is Riley. But he is whispering the words, and it is easy to think it's not him but Edward asking me to trust him.

And so I just let go and trust him, as he brings his right hand down under my ball sack, cradling it and tapping it gingerly with two fingers. It's maddening, but maddeningly good. I'm not embarrassed about the animalistic noises that escape me each time I exhale. I'm so close, right there on the edge, I can't even think straight any more.

And he keeps me there until my breathing indicates I'm ready to go again. Then, he resumes pumping my cock, and yes, fuck yes, this is it! My hands are curling into tight fists, wringing the sheet, and my butt cheeks clench tightly as I lift my hips, and then his hands are gone again…

Kill me now!

I'm a shaking, panting mess, and right now I really want to turn around and punch that fucker in the face! But I just can't move or speak or…

I squeeze my eyes shut in despair. The throbbing in my cock is bordering on pain and it's ready, so fucking ready, but it's missing just the last little… one second longer, and I… fuck, fuck, fuck!

Suddenly I feel his fingers on my nipples, rubbing, pulling – Edward's fingers twisting my nipples, his erection grinding against my ass, his hot breath fanning my neck – and I'm losing it. The most powerful orgasm I've ever had ripples through me, and the cry that leaves my mouth is definitely not human.

I open my eyes just in time to see the thick spurts of cum erupting from my cock. And he isn't even touching it any more. I feel my hot juices run down the shaft and over my balls that have almost completely retreated inside my body at this point.

My eyes want to roll back in my head, and I let them. I still feel my balls twitch; the pulsating seems to go on forever. I slump back against the warm body behind me and let the last waves of my climax wash through me. In my mind, a pair of green eyes pierces into mine and Edward's soft lips curl into a cocky smile before he presses them on my waiting mouth…


Edward wasn't smiling when he finally showed up at Volturi Violins again. But he came alone, and he came at a time when I was alone in the store, too. No Aro, no Bella – I almost couldn't believe my luck. And he did remember my name!

"Hello, Jazz... sper?"

His eyes were looking past me, just like the last time. And his beauty stole my breath away, just like the last time.

"Just Jazz," I said. "My friends call me Jazz."

"I am not one of your friends."

Well, go right to the core of it, why don't you? Okay then.

"I was hoping we could become friends, so I would like for you to call me Jazz."

For the briefest moment his eyes darted to mine. My heart started beating so fast, I thought it was actually trying to jump out of my chest. Then the moment was gone.

"I brought the wrest," he said, holding the paper-wrapped thing out to me. I felt my heart sink as I took it from him. He didn't even acknowledge I said something.

"Thanks," I all but choked out. I was racking my brain for something to say that would keep him from leaving, but the only thing I could come up with was, "Well, Aro isn't here right now. Shall I tell him you said hi?"

He lifted his brows, the first visible change in his facial expression."I didn't say hi," he replied.

Uhm, yeah…

"I mean, do you want me to let him know you were here? It's more of a polite, commonplace phrase, you know, like giving someone you missed your regards."

"Oh," he breathed.

Fuck, did I just lecture him? Really? Not exactly the smartest move to break the ice…

The silence almost became awkward while he apparently thought about what I had said. It was strange, but so adorable.

Finally, he cleared his throat and said, "I think I'd like to say hi to Aro then. Please tell him I was here and that I'm sorry I missed him."


"And thank you for explaining it to me."

"No prob," I muttered, totally enchanted. And then I about pee'd my pants when he gave me a polite nod and smiled. He fucking smiled!

Okay, say something else, don't let him go!

"So... where's Bella today? You two seemed pretty inseparable."

His smile grew a little wider, and my heart skipped a beat at the beautiful things it did to his face.

"Bella is still working; I'll pick her up on my way back."

"She is very pretty."

Fuck, why did I say that? That sounded weird and apparently, Edward didn't like it. His smile was gone in an instant, replaced by a deep frown. I guessed I just lost all the bonus points I had scored earlier.

"She is my girlfriend," he declared.

"Oh, I know that. I didn't mean to…"

"I'm going to marry her."


"Really? That's awesome, congratulations!" I managed to say.

He shook his head no, as if to indicate he's not accepting any congratulations, but didn't say anything. I figured he hadn't proposed yet or something. And I was right.

"I haven't asked her yet. But I will marry her."

"Of course," I encouraged him. "She would be stupid if she didn't say yes."

Once more his glance found mine, a little longer this time. But he was narrowing his eyes at me. I had no idea what I had said now to deserve that look of suspicion. I decided it was time for another topic change.

"I'm a musician, too, you know?" I blurted.

His eyes seemed to fixate on my mouth now. I didn't allow myself any wishful speculations about what that could mean, but I flashed him a brilliant smile anyway.

"What do you play?"

"Oh," I said, inwardly doing a happy dance about his interest, "I play anything stringed. Right now I play bass in a band. But I actually like playing guitar better. And I sing."

"That's great, Jazz."

Jazz! He said Jazz, not Jasper…

He stood there, once more deliberating something. His hand, this fucking beautiful hand raked through his hair, and my knees almost buckled when I found myself wondering what those locks would feel like running through the spaces between my fingers.

I only noticed that I was holding my breath when he suddenly spoke again.

"I have a piano at my place. Maybe we can play together some time… if you'd like?"

Holy shit!

"I would really love that, Edward." I grabbed the edge of the counter to steady myself; I was feeling dizzy all of a sudden.

He nodded again. "Bye, Jazz," he said. And just like that, he turned around to leave.

The front door had opened and closed behind him, and the tiny bell above it had stopped jingling long since when I finally whispered, "Bye, Edward."

Holy shit!


"Are you ok?" he asks softly, slowly stroking the outsides of my still trembling thighs.

Riley. His name is Riley.

"Yes," I say. "Thank you, that was amazing." I'm finally emerging from my post-orgasmic haze. It takes me a few seconds to realize what just has happened. I start feeling bad, for several reasons. The guy was actually very nice; I shouldn't have used him that way.

"Listen, Riley, I'm sorry that I..."

"Shhh..." he interrupts, "I enjoyed the hell out of this, trust me. And don't worry about reciprocating or whatever it is you think you need to apologize for. I helped myself already."

I can hear the smile in his voice, and now that he's said it, I can also feel the sticky moisture between his groin and my ass. Interesting. I don't even remember him laying a hand on himself. But I'm more than relieved that he did enjoy this, too.

"Let's clean you up then, shall we? And then maybe a beer? The offer still holds."

"Yup, clean up, beer and bye bye – in that order, ok?" he replies quite cheerfully. "Oh, one thing..." he adds as I get up on my still wobbly legs.

I turn around to look at him. He is still grinning.

"Yes?" I say.

"Who the fuck is Edward?"


This was my very first attempt at slash.
So whatcha think? Yes, no, meh?
Also, will Edward and Jasper become friends?
Group hug, Betti