This is a one shot inspired by the Lyrics To Life Contest, but never meant to be an entry. Based on the wonderful song by Phil Collins, "Another Day In Paradise".

Disclaimer: Stephenie Meyer owns the original characters.

Lyrics used in this piece belong to Phil Collins and © 2007 WMG
No copyright infringement intended.

Special thanks to: Nancy for betaing, Lotty and Loopy Lou for pre reading, Matt for being the lovely person he is. I am happy that I know you, guys.

Another Day In Paradise

It was late November, the exact time of year I hated the most. The inevitability of winter was depressing. The days were short and gray, the nights endless and too lonely. The idea of moving somewhere South was tempting.

I worked six days a week, sometimes having to leave for home after eight. I had to walk in the dark streets, with rotting leaves squishing under my feet, and fog and moisture soaking my clothes. My home was a couple of blocks away; too close for a car ride, but far enough to allow the cold air to clench my lungs.

That night, I could see my breath as a thick cloud in the light of the street lamps. I had chosen a jacket too thin to keep me from freezing. Shivering and cursing, my stride became larger and hastier with every minute. My mind was too busy with my longing for my Jeep, and I completely missed the moment a figure appeared from behind the nearest corner. A figure somehow etherial under the light of the street lamp. Three of its features immediately registered in my mind: male, blonde, regal.

"Sir, can you help me?"

His voice was quiet. I noticed he was dirty, with mud under the nails of his outstretched hand. A beggar. A beggar in the wrong place, to be more specific. I doubted he could earn much in this neighborhood. I emptied my pockets, and put all I found in his hand. It wasn't much, but at least he could eat.

He didn't say another word, no sign of gratitude, so I turned and walked on. I didn't look back. I was in a hurry.

A hundred more feet, and I would turn the last corner and see my home. Damn, I was freezing. I couldn't help but think about the poor guy back there. Did he own warm clothes? Did he have a home? Why was he in this neighborhood, for fuck's sake! They don't wander here often, the beggars. He didn't look disgusting; he was just dirty. His clothes weren't ragged, and his face, it was clean. And good-looking, by the way. Given a second thought, he was handsome.

My steps faltered. Why didn't I give him more money? I have some in my wallet, too. It didn't take a lot of thinking, I decided to go back and give him the rest of my cash. Poor soul. I turned on my heels, my hand reaching for the inside pocket under my already unbuttoned jacket.

That's when my heart leapt to my throat. The ghostly blonde figure stood right in front of me. He had followed me. He was a couple of inches shorter than me, but stood with an inexplicable dignity to his pose.

"You startled me," I barely managed to bark.

"It's cold, and I've nowhere to sleep. Do you know of anywhere I can go?" He took the one step that separated us, and his breath mixed with mine. We're crossing imaginary vapor swords. Wait, I'm being ridiculous.

Good thing I'm not a weakling. Even if he was going to try to rob me, I could easily take him. He wouldn't stand a chance. Bad thing. I didn't want to beat him. I liked him.

"You look embarrassed, Mister. I'm not asking you to invite me to your place. I'm asking about a homeless shelter. It's really cold, and I'm new here."

So, he was sassy. A good way to get himself into trouble. It was obvious he hadn't been in the streets for long, or he would have learned better.

"Not embarrassed, uhm,… Mister. I'm trying to figure out if you're trying to rob me here."

"Trying to rob a six-foot-five guy? I'm homeless, I'm not stupid."

Sassy, indeed. And very attractive in his emerging fury. Might be a good lay, too. He's got a nice body.

"I don't know of any shelters around. Sorry. But I was about to give you some more cash. Here." I took the bills out and passed them to his already trembling hand. My pity for him overwhelmed me. What now? Do I leave him here? "Do you want to come to my place?" I heard myself say. His eyes widened, and he took a step back.

"You're not some kind of psycho, are you? Why would you invite me to your place? You don't know me."

"No, I don't. The truth is, I like you. Don't ask."

"I still don't get it. But my ass is freezing, so I'll take the offer. You won't kill me in my sleep, right?"

"I won't kill you in your sleep. Come on."

I was very proud of my place. I redecorated it a few months prior, bought a huge plasma TV set, installed a fancy stereo system, and put my new Master Grand bed in the absolutely perfect place in my bedroom. He's going to be impressed, I'm positive.

He didn't even blink when we entered. Not impressed at all. Seemed like the guy was not unfamiliar with luxury.

"You can wash up over there, and then make yourself comfortable." I gestured to the bathroom door and then the couch. "You hungry?"

I didn't know such a simple question could bring a mask of childish happiness to someone's face. He nodded, and his voice was unnaturally weak. "Yes, please." He smiled wide, and I noticed white, perfect teeth. Uh-oh, he's definitely coming from a better place.

The sassiness was gone. The guy was still standing up and he shivered, which reminded me to turn the heater on. I knew the whole place would be warm in several minutes.

"Okay, sit. I'll warm a few things up."

I went into the kitchen and busied myself taking various frozen meals out from the freezer and putting two at a time into the microwave. Soon, I had a nice pile of warm food for him. I almost forgot I was hungry, too. When I returned to him, I realized he was still standing, near the bathroom door, with his hands in his pockets and a foot tapping nervously.

"Why are you standing? You don't like my couch, or what?"

"I like it, and that's why I am not sitting on it. I'm a mess."

I realized he needed clean clothes. Mine would be at least two sizes too big, but would do. I hurried to grab a pair of sweatpants and a shirt. What, I'm not giving him my underwear, for Christ's sake! These are enough. "Here, put these on, and we'll wash yours later."

"Why are you being so nice to me?"

I didn't answer, because I didn't have an answer. I was doing a very wrong thing, bringing a homeless person into my fortress without even knowing his name.

"Don't strain your brains about it. What's your name?"

"Jasper Whitlock, nice to meet you."

"Whitlock, like in The Whitlocks?"


They were one of the richest families in town. Shit.

"But why – "

"Let's say, I didn't fit in there."

"No, you have to… How's that... shit, you have to tell me why you're in the streets."

"Wrong choice of copulating habits, you see. Won't breed. They kicked me out when I came out to Mama."

That comment nearly kicked me in the stomach.

Gay. Staying at my place. And a fucking hot gay! I could see while he was undressing, leaving only a pair of briefs to cover his nudity. He put the clean clothes on in seconds, shying away. It was obvious to me he hadn't realized I was lusting after him. Now what? Is he too sad for a one-night stand?

We ate in silence. To be precise, I ate, and he inhaled his food. My gaze occasionally darted to his face, and I could see the change in his mood; from worry and eagerness, to pure happiness.

"Thanks, man. That was delicious."

He could've eaten anything and said the same. I had never seen a person so famished. He chewed the last bit of food, and delicately cleaned his full lips with a napkin. The man had manners.

"You didn't tell me your name."

"Right, I'm Emmett Cullen. My pleasure."

He flashed a beautiful, lazy smile my way.

"Thank you for feeding me, Emmett."

"Suppose you need a shower before we go to sleep? Ah, and just so you know, you're taking the couch."

"I guess I am." There was a strange vibe to his voice, but I let it go.

"I'll go wash the dishes, and you can use the bathroom."

"You clean the dishes and I use the bathroom?"

Not stupid, he'd said. I started doubting it. "Yep, what's wrong with that?"

"You said, I use the bathroom. What about, we use the bathroom?"

The emphasis on that 'we' word caused an immediate reaction. I'm sure the bulge in my pants could be seen from a mile away.

"What?" He seemed to be amused. "I've seen you measuring me since the moment we walked into your house. A man can show his gratitude in different ways, right? Come on, I'll give you the blowjob of your life."

For reasons unknown, I didn't doubt his abilities.

I watched him undress for the second time, and paid special attention to what was different from before. The briefs covered an impressive hard on. That must be some cock. He turned and headed for the bathroom.

Without giving it a second thought, I undressed slowly and followed him, leaving a couple of minutes for him to clean up. When I opened the door to the bathroom, he was facing me, the shower spraying water all over his body. Oh, didn't he look delicious, all wet, naked, and smiling. His look shifted from my face to my chest, and his mouth slightly opened, the tongue darting out to lick that full lower lip. Yeah, my workouts were paying back. I joined him in the shower, letting him spread body wash all over and cleaning me thoroughly.

Then he gave me the blowjob of my life. He was fantastic.

Of course, I invited him into my bed for the night.

When I woke up the next morning, he was gone. A note was laying on the kitchen table with several digits scribbled, and a smiley face. He'd left me his number.

Shit. A beggar with a cellphone. A rich boy without a home. An awesome fuck who disappears in the morning. Life's weird.

Don't give to beggars, they cause traffic problems, my dad used to tell me.

Don't give to beggars, they cause confusing sentiments, I would say.