Chapter 14

Click here to read the Disclaimer and Warning.

Chapter 14: When You Lose Something You Can't Replace

When I got home that night, Rose and Maggie were in the living room, watching a movie. Maggie had finally reached the stage in her pregnancy where we didn't have to worry about any little thing making her sick, and while her stomach protruded only very slightly, she was starting to have that pregnancy glow that I'd heard about but never believed in, until I saw the uncontroverted proof with my own eyes. Rosalie, tough as nails bitch realtor who could chew up and spit out competitors for breakfast, lunch and dinner, turned into the most gentle, attentive and loving wife at night. Maggie joked that if it was physically possible, Rose would piss and shit for her too.

"What does she think I do during the day while she's gone?" my sister asked me one morning, completely rhetorically. "I mean, I can't lie on the couch all day waiting for her to come home and feed and pamper me. Things have to get done. Does she not realize that?"

"Maybe she does realize that," I offered, "and that's why she doesn't let you do anything at night. Maybe she just wants to show you how much she appreciates you and what you're doing."

"Bah," Maggie waved her hand dismissively. "What am I doing? I'm having a baby. Women have been doing the same thing for millennia without any pomp and circumstance."

"Well," I theorized, "to the rest of the world you may just be a human incubator, but to Rosalie you are her wife and partner and the woman who is carrying a child that will be part of both of you genetically, and that will bind you together for life. That's pretty amazing, sis. Don't take that away from her."

Maggie cocked her head and contemplated me for a while. Then she pressed the back of her hand against my face.

"You know, Edward, you've turned into a really great brother," she said, shaking her head in disbelief. "If anyone had told me a year ago that I would be even speaking with you, much less living with you, I would have tried to have them confined to a mental institution. And yet here we are. And you've been so great about all this! I really love you and the man you've become. I only wish it didn't come at such a high personal price for you. If only he could see you now, how much you've changed. You're a completely different person."

I closed my eyes and leaned against her hand, seeking comfort in her touch. She was my sister and self-appointed guardian angel, and having her and Rosalie in my life made a huge difference. It was almost a fair trade, I thought. The love of my life in exchange for family. I just wished it didn't have to be one or the other.

Maggie and Rose looked up when I came in and asked if I wanted to watch the movie with them, but I had no desire to intrude on their time together and I needed time alone to think. I begged off, claiming homework, and disappeared into my room. I lay on my bed and thought about Cliff, and what an amazing difference meeting one person made.

When Maggie said I was a completely different person, she'd been both right and wrong. Outwardly I was a different person, acted like a different person. Inside, everything that had been there before was still there, only there had been a power shift. I was trying to eradicate the bad stuff, or at least to understand it well enough so I could permanently lock it away somewhere. That's what the sessions with Dr. Furman were all about. But it was all still there, and Jasper, who had always known me better than anyone else, would probably still be able to see it. He had known the other side of me too well to be able to see me the way Maggie did now.

I knew that my fantasy of him coming back and getting to know me the way I was now was pointless, but I fantasized anyway, figuring that I deserved every moment of self-torture as penance for what I'd done to people all my life. Now, suddenly, there was someone else to think about, and those thoughts forced me to abandon my single-track mind set. The desire for Jasper was still there, but so was the desire to get to know Cliff better, and to see if maybe there could be more there than just two guys having coffee. All those months of insisting to everyone that Jasper was the only one for me and I could never be interested in anyone else made me feel so foolish now as my mind, over and over, turned to the beautiful, sad boy, who somehow succeeded in catching my attention without even trying, where so many others had failed.

But what if he didn't feel the same way? He seemed to enjoy our talk. I even made him laugh, which seemed to surprise him quite a bit. But in the end he didn't exactly jump at the chance to get my number, and his promise to call had been polite at best. I'd done similar things to enough girls to know there was less than 50% chance that I would hear from him again, and that killed me. To finally feel this part of me alive again, to be interested in someone else, and to have that person reject my interest, stung more than I could articulate. The sting was well deserved, of course. A taste of the same medicine I dispensed to hundreds of girls in the past. I supposed now that I finally acknowledged that I was a homosexual, now that I was finally physically attracted to a man other than Jasper, it was appropriate that he treat me the same way I treated others who had been interested in me. It was Karma, and I deserved every bit. But I still couldn't help wishing it didn't have to be that way. Wishing I could see him again; get to know him; make him feel comfortable enough with me to tell me his secret; make him laugh often enough to help him conquer the sadness. I wished he would give me a chance to be the better person that Maggie apparently felt I could be.

I took out my phone and looked at his number, stored in the list of outgoing calls. I desperately wanted to call him, to hear his soft, even voice, but I promised I would not, and I couldn't break that promise. But I also couldn't let this one point of contact go, so with a push of a few buttons I saved it into my address book. I knew I couldn't use it, but just having it there brought a certain sense of calm.

I closed the phone and held it as I closed my eyes and brought up a mental picture of him, the way he looked in that waiting room when he first looked up and nearly took my breath away. And before then, when just looking at him made me as hard as a rock, a physical state I was rapidly returning to. I turned to my side, cursing the lack of privacy in this apartment. Taking an evening shower was so out of the norm for me, it was bound to make Rose and Maggie suspicious. Of course I could and had jacked off in my bedroom, but with just the door separating me from the living room, I would have to be super quiet and I'd have to be conscious of not making too big of a mess. I wished my first time thinking about Cliff could be while I was in the apartment alone, under the warm spray of a shower, where I could make as much noise and mess as I wanted and really let go. But with Maggie spending even more time at home now that she was pregnant, that simply wasn't meant to be. So I pulled down my jeans and underwear, reached for a T-shirt on the floor near my bed that I'd discarded there earlier for exactly this purpose, grabbed the bottle of lube from my nightstand drawer, and let my hands and fingers do the work as my head filled with images of Cliff.

Days went by and, as I feared, he made no attempt to contact me. I tried to act normal, as if there was nothing wrong. I even tried avoiding Seth, knowing he'd be most likely to spot any changes. But my acting skills must have disappeared along with my heterosexuality, because after about a week Maggie started probing to see what was wrong, followed by Rose and Emmett. When all of their attempts to get me to talk failed, they finally sent in the master. I knew Seth well enough to realize that the slightest slip, even one word, could result in him extracting the whole story, so when he came over to see me while Maggie and Rose were suspiciously absent, I was on high alert.

"Nothing's wrong, Seth. I don't want to talk," I told him right off the bat, hoping he would get the message and go away.

"Okay," he said amiably. "I didn't want to talk either, especially with you, as pissy and dour as you've been all week. But Emmy's out with Christopher and the moron I made plans with tonight is apparently sick, stomach bug or some such nonsense," he waved his hand in the air dismissively, "and for once I have nothing and no one to do, so I thought I'd come here and we could see a movie or go out to eat or something. I could use a friend."

It was all bullshit and we both knew it. If he wanted, Seth Clearwater could have a dozen guys lined up on his doorstep within moments of making a single phone call. He was manipulating me, using friendship as a weapon, knowing I owed him too much to refuse his request.

"Alright, fine," I grumbled, reaching for my phone and wallet, "I'm hungry anyway. Let's go to Mario's"

On the walk to Mario's I had to smile, thinking of how once upon a time I wouldn't be caught dead with Seth in public, especially sporting the getup he was wearing that night: a pair of low-rise leather pants with the legs joined by a single zipper that extended from the top of the front of his waistband to the top of the back; a white button-down over shirt that might have been presentable had he actually buttoned it; and a red mesh half-shirt that must have been part lycra, with the way it clung to his body and did nothing to hide his, admittedly adorable, furry tummy. There was too much stuff between us for me to ever feel attracted enough to Seth to want to fuck him, even if he was inclined to let me, which he made very clear from the start he was not, but I had to admit I definitely saw why all those throngs of boys and men wanted to get a piece of him. I didn't see it until I allowed myself to admit that I was gay, but Seth was fucking hot, and I could only imagine how many times we'd be interrupted at Mario's by guys who wanted to get their shot at a night with the infamous Mr. Clearwater. Fortunately, Seth was used to dealing with that problem, and could easily dismiss a would-be suitor with a frosty glare before the poor man every made it to our table.

When Seth was in a good mood, it was physically impossible to be with him and not be in a good mood as well. Soon after we got to Mario's and ordered our pizza, I was nursing a beer and felt completely relaxed for the first time since I met Cliff. Seth was at the top of his game, disarming all of my defenses by talking about how well Maggie seemed to be doing and how funny it was to see Rose in the role of protective mother hen. We could only imagine what she would be like once the baby was born, with Seth teasing that they still had a pullout in their apartment in case the girls deemed me unworthy to live under the same roof with their new offspring. We also talked about Emmett and Christopher, Seth expressing his very conditional acceptance of the new man in Emmett's life. Seth acknowledged that Christopher was nice enough and treated Emmett well, but he declared him much too boring and unskilled in the bedroom.

"Em told you that?" I asked, surprised only because I would have never thought Emmett would complain about someone he clearly cared a lot about.

"No," Seth shook his head. "'He's a great guy, Seth. A really good guy. I don't care if he doesn't make me see the face of God when we fuck,'" Seth imitated his best friend's voice perfectly. "But he did tell me what Christopher has to work with and when you're dealing with substandard equipment, not even the best of training can help. With Christopher, I get the feeling training would be absolutely useless. Oohh," he got excited for a second, "that's a perfect name for him. Useless."

I smirked. "Don't let Emmett hear you call him that."

He sighed dramatically, rolling his eyes. "You know I love Emmy like a brother, but he is and always was too concerned with his heart and not enough with his cock and ass. It's like he refuses to understand that he can find a great guy who will take care of him in all departments, you know?"

I shrugged. What the hell did I know about this subject, anyway?

"So what about you? Who's this guy that's had you moping for the past two weeks?" Seth finally got to the real reason for our male bonding session. I could have tried denying it, but he would have seen right through me anyway. He'd worn me down enough that I was willing to at least acknowledge the existence of a guy.

"It's just a guy I met and had coffee with. No big deal."

"You had a coffee date with a guy and you waited two weeks to tell me?" Seth practically shouted, and several patrons from nearby tables looked over in our direction. I shrank down in the booth and made a point of resting my head on my bent arm, looking out the window and away from the people in the restaurant.

"Jesus, Seth, be quiet! I don't need everyone in Seattle to know about my personal life, thank you."

"All right, all right," he said, much more quietly. "But fuck, Edward. I thought you'd finally sprung a boner for someone you'd seen on campus or in one of your classes and just didn't have the balls to do anything about it. I had no idea you actually went out on a date. With a boy? For you, that's fucking huge! What happened? Tell me everything!" he commanded.

The pizza arrived and I silently thanked whoever was in the kitchen for giving me a few precious moments to prepare for the all-out Seth Clearwater information assault. I bit into my slice and chewed carefully while formulating my answer. I needed to give him enough information to get him off my back, but not break my promise to Cliff.

"It wasn't a date, Seth. It was just talking over coffee."

"Did you kiss?"

"No. Like I said, we talked."

"Hmm," Seth pondered. "Did you exchange contact information?"

"He has my number," I said, staring down at the table.

"Ah, and he hasn't used it. Hence the moping. My, my. You are in uncharted waters, aren't you? You didn't think to get his number?"

I didn't respond, hoping he would interpret that as a negative. I got lucky.

"Well, there must be other ways of finding him. Who is he? Someone in one of your classes? What's his name?"

I shook my head.

"You don't know his name?" Seth was incredulous.

"Seth, will you just drop it, please? He hasn't called. He's obviously not interested. End of story."

I looked out the window again, but I could see Seth's reflection. He was staring at me with narrowed eyes. I could almost see the wheels turning in his head as he processed what little information I gave him.

"Hold on just a minute," he said. "Something isn't adding up here. You go out for a coffee with a guy. A guy you're attracted to. The first guy you've been attracted to since Jasper, right?"

Even though he damn well knew the answer, he waited for me to nod before continuing.

"So somehow you get the courage to have coffee with him and give him your number, but not to get his number or name? You? Edward Cullen? Can't get a number and a name? I just don't believe it.

"And even if we lived in a universe where that was remotely possible, you wouldn't then come to me to find out who this guy is? If he's gay, you know I either already know him or can easily find him if I don't. But instead of doing that you just lay low and get depressed and do nothing? That makes no sense. Something's going on and you better tell me what it is or else I'll find out anyway, and it won't be pleasant," he threatened.

I suddenly had visions of Emmett, Rose and Maggie holding me down while Seth gleefully inserted slivers under my fingernails, and a shiver of apprehensions went down my spine.

"Seth," I hesitated, and then shook my head, knowing I would not get away with a complete stonewall. "I do have his name and his number. But I promised him I wouldn't call, and I won't break that promise."

Seth eyed me, obviously thinking.

"Why wouldn't he call you Edward? You didn't do anything stupid, right? Who is this guy? And why wouldn't he want you to call him. What's he hiding? How much do you know about him? Give me his name and I'll look into it for you."

"No, Seth. He told me you know him. There was something, something he wasn't ready to tell me that he feared you might, so I told him I wouldn't tell you his name. I want to find out from him, Seth, when he's ready, or else I don't want to know at all."

"When he's ready? But Edward, it's been two weeks and he still hasn't called. In gay time that's practically decades!" he seemed absolutely outraged.

I shook my head again. "Drop it, Seth, please."

"Oh, for fuck's sake, Edward," Seth threw up his arms, exasperated. "It was bad enough when you were doing this with Jasper. I mean, we all know how special Jasper was to you and we understand why getting over him wasn't easy and why for the longest time you couldn't even bring yourself to look at another guy," he paused for a minute while I looked at him with a raised brow. "Well, okay, maybe I didn't exactly understand why you couldn't look at another guy. Truth be told, it didn't make a damned bit of sense to me. I mean, it's just fucking, just a physical release, something you'd done hundreds of time with women, for God's sake, when you weren't even attracted to their gender! But I digress," he seemed to catch and calm himself down a little. "Anyway, now that you finally found another guy who interests you, that guy is as unavailable as Jasper? Come on! What the hell is wrong with him? Is he straight? Or does he have a lover already that he'd be cheating on with you?"

I said nothing, because there was nothing to say that I hadn't already said. I would not give Seth any more information. I would not break my promises to Cliff. If I never saw him again than whatever his secret was wouldn't matter anyway. And if I did, by some chance, see him again, I wanted to be able to honestly tell him I'd kept my word.

I couldn't deny, though, that Seth's last comment found the mark. Cliff told me the secret wasn't anything illegal or dangerous, but if he had a boyfriend or partner already, that would not fall within either category. And he had been very reluctant to give me his number or to take mine. And he seemed so relieved when I told him I would not call him. Plus it wasn't like he'd been overly eager to get the coffee, either. Maybe he and the other guy were having problems. Maybe that was the reason for therapy? If so, if he'd been having problems for four months or longer, why the hell stay with the guy? My head was swimming with confusion as Seth and I ate the pizza in silence, Seth fuming over my refusal to provide the information he felt he was owed.

I never believed it would help matters, but my outing with Seth actually made things worse. Cliff still hadn't called, but now I couldn't even think of him without wondering about the other man in his life. I couldn't think of him alone anymore. When I closed my eyes, I imagined him kissing some nameless, faceless stranger, much like the guy I saw Jasper with on that New Year's Eve telecast. Needless to say, that image did nothing to fuel my fantasies. Maggie and Rose started watching me more carefully, monitoring what I ate. I knew what they were doing and why, but I still resented it on some level, feeling like a little kid. I was fine. Depressed and a little pissed off, maybe, but otherwise fine. I just didn't feel like doing anything or seeing anyone. It wasn't like I was getting drunk and fighting again.

Dr. Furman, of course, also knew something was wrong. I eventually told him what happened. He'd furrowed his brow as he made notes in the file, and it was all I could do not to rip the thing from his hands to see what he was writing. He told me he was pleased with the fact that I started acknowledging my attraction to men other than Jasper, but concerned that I was developing another obsession. He wondered if I couldn't try to find someone else, someone more available. I tried to explain that I wasn't just suddenly attracted to all men, that there was something special about this guy, but when I told him more about Cliff all he did was to make more notations in his file.

By the third week I had given up on ever hearing from Cliff. Clearly he hadn't experienced the same feelings in that coffee shop that I had, and was not interested in seeing or talking with me again. I wasn't happy, but I knew I needed to accept it. My friends and Dr. Furman were right. The last thing I needed on top of my feelings for Jasper was another hopeless obsession. So it was shocking, to say the least, when I saw him walking out of his therapist's office as I was waiting for my session with Dr. Furman.

"Edward, hi," he greeted me, clearly flustered.

"Hi, Cliff," it was only polite to acknowledge him, but I felt no need to get into an extended conversation. It would only make an already uncomfortable situation more awkward. It didn't help things any that seeing him in person just reinforced how attractive he was, and how much I wanted to get to know him better.

"I'm sorry I didn't…"

"Don't think twice about it," I interrupted his apology, not really wanting to hear false excuses. "I understand."

"No," his face clouded. "I don't think you do."

The door to Dr. Furman's office opened and his patient walked out, leaving the door ajar so I could go in. I rose from my chair.

"Okay," I said, "But it doesn't really matter. And, um, I have to go," I said, pointing to the office door with my chin.

"Oh, right," he looked at the door and then back to me. "I don't want to make you late."

"Right, bye then," I meant for that to sound final, but it came out pretty weak. I started walking past him and felt him grab my forearm to stop me.

"Are you busy after your session?" He asked. "Do you have anywhere you have to be?"

I paused, keenly aware of the tingling sensation radiating from where his hand touched my arm. I didn't know how to respond, since I didn't know the reason for the question. I wanted to see him again, but if this was only his way of explaining why we couldn't see each other, then maybe it would be better to just end it here.

He saw my struggle. "I'd really like to talk to you. Please?" he implored both with his voice and his eyes. "I'll wait here until you're done."

I was afraid to speak, so I just nodded curtly. He let go of my arm and I walked to Dr. Furman's office, turning to look back at him before I walked in and closed the door. He took the chair I'd been sitting in, assuming the same pose he'd been in when I first saw him in that room. He looked up at me and gave me a tentative smile, which I returned in kind. Suddenly my heart was beating faster and my stomach was doing flip flops. I knew this session would be useless, as I'd be unable to concentrate on anything other than what awaited after it was over.

Dr. Furman could, of course, sensed my nervousness, so I had to tell him that I had just seen Cliff in the waiting room. Until then, I hadn't mentioned that I met Cliff right there on the day of the canceled session.

"You mean the man we've been talking about in our last two sessions is a patient here?" Dr. Furman was concerned.

"He's a patient of Dr. Brenner, not one of yours," I said quickly, thinking he was worried about some sort of a conflict of interest. He looked only mildly relieved.

"Edward, you have been through a lot in the past year and you're still learning how to deal and cope with all the changes in your life. I'm concerned that seeing someone who is also in therapy may not be beneficial, for either of you. New relationships are often stressful under the best of circumstances. When both parties have additional issues they're dealing with, that extra stress can be harmful to their progress."

"Wait," I shook my head. "I thought you wanted me to start seeing guys. I thought you said it would be good for me."

"Casual dating, yes. But we've already spend over two sessions talking about this man, and you've only had coffee with him. Your involvement seems deeper than it should be, given the brevity of your contact. Your demeanor today is telling as well. I'm just not sure..."

I sat up straight in my chair. "Look, Dr. Furman, you can't tell me that being in therapy makes a person any more or less of a relationship candidate. There are plenty of people around who are seriously messed up and never even thought about therapy. At least this guy is willing to acknowledge he has problems and is doing something about them. Isn't that a good thing? It gives us something in common. I come here to listen and I appreciate your help and advice, but with all due respect, I am going to see Cliff after our session is over, and I'll deal with the consequences, whatever they are, when the time comes. If I get even more messed up, well, I guess that's more time with you and more billings for your office."

"Edward," Dr. Furman protested, "You know that's not the point..."

"Let's just talk about something else," I demanded. "I'll let you know what happened at next week's session."

He relented, and we spent the rest of the time talking about my father and how I planned to tell him that I was gay. The truth was, of course, that I wasn't really planning on telling him. I barely saw the man, anyway, now that Mom chose to drive up to Seattle to visit, instead of me having to go to Forks. In fact, I really had no desire to deal with him or his reaction. But Dr. Furman seemed to think it would benefit me to role play, so who was I to deny him the fun?

When session was over I hesitated, staying in my chair longer than I usually did, unsure of what would happen when I went back out into the waiting room. One concerned look from Dr. Furman, however, had me up and leaving. I took a deep breath for courage, then opened the door and walked out.

He looked up when he heard the door open, and then got up out of his chair. We both started walking toward the office exit. I noticed Molly was watching us speculatively.

"See you next week," I told her as I passed her desk.

"Bye Molly," Cliff said. We still hadn't spoken to one another.

We walked to the elevator in silence. I didn't automatically reach for the call button, not wanting the car to arrive prematurely. One of us needed to say something and it looked like if I waited for Cliff, whose eyes were downcast as always, we might be spending the night in the building.

"Do you want to get coffee again?" I asked. He shook his head and looked up at me.

"I thought maybe we could do something more substantial? Late lunch or an early dinner, depending on your last meal?"

I'd already had lunch, but it was fairly light. This was really early for dinner, but I liked the thought of sharing a meal with him.

"Sure," I said. "That's fine. You got anything in mind?"

"I was thinking of a place, but it's a bit of a drive."

I shrugged. "I'm free all afternoon and evening. As long as it's in the US and I don't need a passport, I'm fine."

He smiled. I liked making him smile. I couldn't help but smile back.

"Great," he said and pushed the elevator button.

The elevator arrived quickly and a few minutes later we were in his car, heading north. I said nothing, biting my tongue, determined to make him start talking for once. Instead I looked out the window, paying entirely too much attention to the passing architecture. When I finally turned towards him, I found him stealing a glance in my direction, looking nervous as hell.

"So," he said. "How've you been?"

I cocked my head, wondering if I should tell him the truth or give him the pat answer he likely wanted to hear. I decided to go for something in between.

"I've been all right. Been thinking a lot about you."

Shy as he seemed, I expected him to get flustered and maybe even blush. I remembered Jasper's blushes, so fucking adorable. I knew he had hated them, but I loved knowing each time I made blood rush to his cheeks.

Cliff, however, surprised me. Without missing a beat he replied seriously, "I've been thinking a lot about you too."

I swallowed to moisten my suddenly dry throat.

"Anything in particular?" I asked, annoyed at myself for letting his answer throw me.

"Mostly how much I enjoyed talking to you and being with you. How easy and comfortable it was. That hasn't been the case for me with anyone in quite a while."

I looked at him carefully. Most of that evening had been very easy and comfortable, except when we talked about Seth and when it came time to exchange contact information. I suddenly remembered my concern about him having a boyfriend or partner, and looked out the window again. We were driving quite a distance to this restaurant of his. Did he deliberately choose a place where he could be sure we wouldn't be seen by anyone he knew? I enjoyed his company, but I didn't exactly want my first gay relationship after Jasper to be an illicit affair where I was the side dish to his main course. A Cullen would never settle for second place...

Fuck! Okay. That was wrong. I had to stop the Cullen shit. Forget the Cullens. I didn't want to settle for second place. Of course, even thinking about a relationship was out of left field. Who said either of us wanted a relationship? This was just a date. Not even a date. Just talking over shared food at four in the afternoon. Dr. Furman was right. I was getting too serious about this, and for no reason. I needed to step back. Really think about what I was doing.

"I was kind of hoping you felt the same way," I heard Cliff say hesitantly. "That you enjoyed talking to me and being with me too."

My head snapped back to him as I realized I'd simply left his statement hanging without any response. "Huh?" I said before I could stop myself, and then clenched my teeth in anger at creating the impression that I hadn't been listening to him. "I mean, yeah. I did. I felt the same way," I quickly reassured him.

"Right," he nodded, clearly unconvinced. "Good." He focused his eyes back on the road.

Shit. We hadn't even gotten to the restaurant yet, and I was already messing things up. I had no idea how to do this, how to be nice to people. Not really. Sure, I could act charming, I could lie if I needed to, but I had no idea how to be genuinely nice and thoughtful and considerate. All those things people were telling me I should be when I found someone I was interested in.

"No, look, I really meant it. I had a great time the other afternoon. I hoped you would call. I would have called you myself but I promised you I wouldn't... Anyway, when I didn't hear from you I figured you weren't interested."

He shifted his eyes to me for a moment.

"That's not it at all, Edward," he said, but then instead of explaining, he flipped on his turning signal and took the next exit. A short while later we were pulling in at our destination, a vintage diner. I felt a chill go through me as I was flooded with memories of another diner that was special for me and another boy. What were the chances that, of all the different types of restaurants available in Seattle, Cliff would choose one almost exactly like Jasper's and my favorite? Was this a good omen or a sign of doom? I shook my head and decided that maybe it was just a simple coincidence and meant nothing more than that.

"You seem hesitant," Cliff remarked. "They have a good variety of food. I'm sure you'll find something you like."

"I'm sure it's great," I quickly said. "It just reminds me of another place back home."

"Oh, good memories, I hope?"

I thought about it for a second. I wanted to smile, but my lips weren't cooperating so I just nodded. "Yes. Good memories. Let's go in."

We walked in and were quickly seated, the early afternoon crowd rather thin. I ordered breakfast and Cliff ordered a sandwich. Our drinks arrived and once again we sat in silence, neither of us knowing where to begin.

"It's been a long time since I've done anything like this," Cliff finally said.

"Like this?" I asked with a raised eyebrow.

"Yeah. I guess I'm not sure exactly what this is. I kind of think of it as a date?"

"It’s been a long time since you've been on a date?" I didn't argue with his label, since I looked at this as a sort of a date too. But the fact that he hadn't been on one in a long time seemed to confirm some sort of a permanent attachment. Why else would a good looking guy like him not date?

He nodded his confirmation and looked down at the table.

"How long?" I pressed for more information.

"Several years," he said quietly.

"I see," I commented. "So what does that mean? Are you with someone? Is that why you don't date?"

He looked up at me, clearly surprised at my conclusion.

"Well, you were really reluctant to go out the last time, you don't date, you didn't want me to call you, and you took me to a restaurant in the middle of nowhere. Are you trying to hide this from the person you're with?" At the last minute I changed the word I'd intended to use, guy, to person, when I suddenly realized that it might not be a boyfriend waiting for him at home. It would serve me right if the first guy I'd been attracted to after all this time was a closeted homo like I used to be, and still was to an extent, who was still trying to pass as straight. It would serve me right if this guy was trying to convince himself he wasn't attracted to men, just me.

Cliff started to speak, but just then the waitress arrived with our orders. Frustrated, I watched her set out our food, and listened to her ask us if we needed anything else. Cliff was polite in telling her no and she retreated. He looked at me thoughtfully. Neither of us made any move towards our food.

"I guess I have handled things in a way that might lead you to that conclusion," he said. "I'm sorry. I didn't realize. But no, I'm not trying to hide this from anyone. I'm not with anyone." His voice faded away at the end again and I saw his eyes fill with tears, before he quickly looked down again. A couple of liquid drops fell to the table top, but he made no move to wipe them or his eyes.

I reached over for his hand, not quite believing I'd already made him cry. Not exactly an auspicious beginning.

"Hey, I'm sorry. Was it a bad break-up? I mean, we don't have to talk about it if you don't want, but if you do I can listen." Even as I was offering I wondered why? I'd never been the listening, supportive type. Then again, months of therapy gave me something to model it on. I could pretend to be Dr. Furman for a few minutes, couldn't I? I wouldn't even have to take notes.

He reached over for his napkin and dried his eyes before looking back up.

"I'm sorry. I was hoping I wouldn't cry. I don't mean to make you uncomfortable."

I was uncomfortable, but I couldn't let him see it. I didn't want him to feel any more self-conscious than he already did.

"It's OK. Do you want to take a minute? We can start eating..." Neither one of us had touched our food and I figured eating might settle his nerves a little, and give him a chance to calm down. He nodded and picked up his sandwich. I dug into my breakfast. For a few minutes we just ate, lost in our own thoughts. Eventually he put down his sandwich and I put down my flatware.

"It's kind of a long story. Are you sure you want to hear it?"

"If you're sure you want to share it," I replied. The truth was I was dying of curiosity, but I didn't want to pressure him. He nodded.

"For three weeks I've thought about nothing else but how to tell you all of this. I haven't wanted to do that with anyone else. I don't even know if I can, how it will come out? I don't know if it will scare you off? Maybe it should..."

I reached over and placed my hand on his again, trying to calm him.

"You're getting yourself all worked up when there's no need. Just tell me. I can handle it."

He sighed. "All right. Well, I am, was, an identical twin."

I couldn't help but notice the switch from present to past tense and I felt a cold chill run through me.

"Wenn was older than me by a couple of minutes and he never let me forget it, but we were close, very close, the way identical twins often are. My mother, in a typical mother-of-identical-twins perversity, dressed us alike for years, which allowed us to play all sorts of pranks on teachers and friends. For years, it was almost impossible for anyone other than our parents to tell us apart."

I wanted to ask questions, but I figured he needed to talk without interruptions.

"When we got to high school our differences became more noticeable. We liked different subjects and different extracurricular activities. And there was another huge difference. Wenn was straight and I definitely was not. He actually figured it out first."

Cliff laughed at the memory.

"We'd been on a couple of double dates together with girls, but I never enjoyed them as much as he did. Then, one day, he caught me staring at the guys on the football team, and he just knew. When he told me, I tried to deny it. I didn't want to be different than him. But he assured me that it was fine. That I had to be myself and that no difference would ever come between us. And he was right. No difference ever did."

"Wenn helped me tell my parents and he stood by me when I came out at school. He was really popular, so being his twin I got to ride his coattails and didn't have to put up with any shit. But I was the only openly gay student in our high school, so my social life wasn't exactly on par with his. For a while, Wenn insisted on taking me on dates with him and his girlfriends, but that got awkward pretty quick. So we didn't spend as much time together."

I tried to imagine what his life must have been like growing up. Like Jasper, he found out he was gay early. Unlike Jasper, he was able to come out and be himself. His popular best friend helped him, instead of driving him deeper into the closet. Granted, he was also his brother, but still, it would have been easy for Wenn to ask Cliff not to reveal his sexuality. But he hadn't done that. He'd gone a step above and beyond, actually encouraging Cliff to be true to himself. I wished I had been able to do that for Jasper. I wished I could have been less self-absorbed so that I could notice that he was attracted to guys, and then to help him gain everyone's acceptance. But that wasn't me. Not then, and probably not even now. I just wasn't as good of a human being.

"Towards the end of our Junior year, Wenn met Ashleigh. She lived in another part of town and went to the Catholic school, so we didn't really meet her until she came to a party at her cousin's house, who also happened to be in our group of friends. It was love at first sight for the two of them. After that, they spent as much time together as her parents would allow. And Lili was great. Hanging out with the two of them wasn't awkward at all. We became the Three Musketeers."

His face was bright and he was smiling at the happy memories.

"Then, at the end of the summer before Senior year, Sergio and his dads moved to a house just down the block from us. They were from San Francisco and they were the first openly gay family to move into our town, and one of just a few interracial families. I wish I could say they were welcomed with open arms, but that wasn't the case. We had some people in town who were truly hateful. Our standing in the community had apparently shielded my family from the hate, but Sergio's family wasn't so lucky. There were hate crimes. The police was involved, even the FBI. Just properly damage, thank God. Fortunately, no one was hurt. But still, it was awful for them at first.

"Of course, my parents were more understanding than most. They did what they could, inviting Sergio's family over to dinner, introducing them to the neighbors, organizing a neighborhood watch so we could stop and report the vandalism. They became close friends. Probably would have even if there was nothing between me and Gio."

"But there was something between you and Gio?"

Cliff's face colored with the blush I had been looking for earlier.

"Yeah. There sure was. Gio was, well, he was everything. He was beautiful: tall, dark skin, gorgeous brown eyes, thick dark Italian hair, and so well dressed- he always looked like he stepped off the runway in Milan. He was smart too, and funny, and warm, and caring, and so fucking sexy..."

I fidgeted in my seat slightly. Cliff was speaking past tense, but his recollections were obviously so vivid, I wondered how anyone would ever compete with the Italian gay Superman. More to the point, how the fuck could I compete? I wasn't lacking in the looks department, but as for everything else, I didn't fit the bill.

"You fell in love?" I asked, though the answer was already obvious.

"Yes," he nodded. "Gio taught me what being gay was really all about. Not just the sex, although he was a great teacher in that department as well, but also about the culture, and the self-confidence, and the prejudices I would face when Wenn could no longer protect me. He was so good to me. And when we touched, there were enough fireworks for the 4th of July. He and I became as inseparable as Wenn and Lili. When it wasn't the two of us, it was the four of us. He was the D'Artagnan to our Three Musketeers."

I nodded, envious of the connection. I briefly considered what it would be like if Jasper were to come back and I could convince him to give us another try. Could he and I and Maggie and Rosalie be as close as Cliff had described? It would have been so great to have that kind of relationship.

"We all decided to attend UW so we could stay together." Cliff continued. "Wenn, Gio and I got an apartment together. Lili's parents would never let her live with Wenn, so she officially lived in the dorms, but for all practical intents and purposes she lived with us too. And for that first year and a half it was great. We all got along, we almost never had disagreements, we liked doing things together or just hanging out. Wenn was going to ask Lili to marry him after graduation. Obviously that wasn't an option for me and Gio, but we talked about staying together forever. It was perfect."

His voice trailed off again, but at least this time he was lost in happy thoughts, a smile playing across his lips. I couldn't help but wonder what that would have been like - to know true love and happiness with a man you loved. I supposed the first part was being worthy of that love, which I never had been.

My nails dug painfully into the flesh of my palm as I wondered why I was even in the diner. I knew Cliff was speaking in past tense. but there was no way I could ever measure up to the memories he had of Gio. I didn't even come close.

Suddenly I noticed that Cliff was still silent, but he was no longer happy. He must have moved forward in his thoughts.

"What happened?" I asked to get him to start talking again.

"Last spring we went to a party, all four of us. I drove my car, but then I drank at the party and wasn't in any shape to drive home, so Wenn was behind the wheel. It was late and dark and I fell asleep. The next thing I knew there was a crash, this horrendous noise, and then the car was spinning and flipping and being wedged under something. I could hear screams, but didn't know whose they were. I was only conscious for a few moments before everything went black again."

I gasped. I absolutely had not been prepared for anything as horrific as this. I sat back in my seat and waited for him to tell me, stunned and terrified.

"Wenn and Lili died at the scene, almost instantly. The doctors told us they didn't suffer. Gio and I were both unconscious when the paramedics arrived. They had to use the jaws of life to get us out of the car. Gio lived through the ambulance ride, but died during surgery. There were just too many internal injuries and he'd lost too much blood. In comparison, my injuries were almost minor, although the surgeries were pretty extensive and I was out of it for the majority of the first two weeks. When I was well enough to be released, my parents took me back home, where I spent some time in a rehab center as I recovered. I wasn't quite ready to return to school in the fall, but by winter I decided I had to come back. I couldn't be in mourning forever. That’s when I started seeing Dr. Brenner. It's been pretty rough. I really haven't been good around people, even the people I knew before. Especially the people I knew before. And I'm not good at meeting new people. Wenn and Gio had always done that for me."

"So you've been completely alone since the start of winter term?" I asked incredulously, remembering how awful I'd felt those times I was alone after Jasper left. I couldn't believe his family and friends would just abandon him like that, even if it was his choice.

"Not completely alone," he explained. "My parents check on me often, of course, as do Bruce and Tyrone, Gio's dads. I still keep in touch with some friends from high school, and I occasionally talk to some of my classmates. But it's hard being around people who knew them and who know what happened. They never know how to act around me. It's as uncomfortable for them as it is for me. And it just reminds me of everything that happened. . ." he paused. he looked down at his hands. "I know that it won't be like this forever. It will get easier. It already has a little. Talking to Dr. Brenner helps."

I leaned forward, this time taking both of his hands into mine.

"Cliff, I don't know what to say. I'm sorry doesn't begin to cover it." I shook my head. "I wish I were better at this."

He smiled a small smile. "Better at what?"

"Better at knowing what to say, how to be more comforting."

He looked at the table, then back up at me. "I don't."

I furrowed my brow in confusion.

"I don't wish you were better at this," he explained, "You're pretty perfect at it right now. I don't want any more people feeling sorry for me and pitying me. I already have plenty of those people in my life. That's why I try not to tell anyone I meet about what happened. This is good. I managed to say everything without breaking down. Thank you."

He smiled in earnest and I had to smile back. I looked down, realizing I was still holding his hands and thinking that I didn't want to let go. I could understand it all now. He had gone through hell. No wonder he was reluctant to meet anyone new. No wonder it took him weeks to decide he wanted to share his story with me. And he was gay. And there was no one else. Well, I corrected, no one waiting for him at home. It was pretty clear that Gio was still very much ever present in his thoughts, but considering I could hardly stop thinking about Jasper, I couldn't exactly hold that against him. Maybe this was a good thing? Maybe we could help each other forget?

"Are you boys still working on these or are you all done?"

The waitress startled me and I let go of Cliff's hands and sat back in my seat.

I found him staring at me in amusement.

"I'm all set," he said. "How about you, Edward?"

"Me too."

The waitress swept up the plates. "Will there be anything else? Do you want a refill on your drinks?" There were still plenty of open tables and she wasn't anxious for us to leave. We weren't ready to go either, so we each agreed to the refill.

"Can I ask you a question, Cliff?" I picked up the conversation after she walked away.

"Sure," he nodded.

"What happened with Seth? Was it just that you didn't want him to tell me about the accident?"

He sighed. "Seth knew me and Gio before the accident. Like I said, he and I were in some classes together. Gio and I didn't party like he did, but we'd run into each other on occasion. And as you probably know, Seth is not just the power bottom of the community, he's also the information center. So of course he knew all about the accident and what happened to Gio. He even visited me in the hospital a few times. I wasn't in the best of mood then. I was angry and bitter and not fit to be around people. Wenn and Gio had always been the ones who kept me cheerful and sociable. Without them..."

Cliff looked like he was about to get lost in his thoughts again, but he shook his head and pulled himself out of it. The waitress came back to refill our drinks and we each sipped for a moment.

"Anyway," Cliff continued, "when I came back to school, Seth tried again. He suggested that I get more involved in the community, meet some new people. He thought that might help me deal with the loss. And don't get me wrong, it was very kind of him to take the time. He certainly didn't have to do that. But I wasn't ready, and I'm afraid I might have been more adamant and vocal in my refusal than I should have been. We haven't talked since, and I get the feeling that he may have been quite put out with me. And that's all right. I understand completely. But since he's your friend, I was afraid that he might say something that would give you the wrong idea before I had a chance to explain. And I really didn't want you to think badly of me right from the start."

He watched me carefully, his eyes pleading for understanding. I needed to let him know that it was all right. That Seth's opinion, whatever it was, and I suspected it was not as bad as Cliff imagined, didn't make a difference.

"There was a time when I would not have wanted you to ask Seth about me either," I offered. "He hated me when we first met."

Both of Cliff's eyebrows shot up in question.

"Hated you? That's a little strong. Why do you think that?"

I chuckled darkly. "Truly, it may not be strong enough. I was a different guy when he and I first met. At the time I actually thought I was straight."

Cliff leaned back in his seat and looked at me carefully. "Really? How long ago did you and Seth meet?"

"The beginning of my Freshman year. My best friend and I moved in down the hall from Seth and his roommate, Emmett. The day Jasper arrived we met Em & Seth on our way to get pizza, and we all went out together. I was, well, to put it bluntly, I was a homophobic dick who had no idea how to deal with my own feelings towards my best friend. I wasn't exactly pleasant to be around. And I was jealous, because Jasper became friends with Seth & Emmett. I didn't know at the time that Jasper was gay. All I knew was that my best friend was spending a lot of time with other guys. It was all so messed up. I was..."

I didn't know how to possibly explain all the stupid thoughts and ideas that I had during that time. I knew he deserved to know, but now I was scared. What he had told me was so benign compared to what I was about to tell him. He had lost people he loved the most in a horrible accident and, as a result, was reluctant to socialize. That was perfectly understandable. I had been a monster who was just now coming fully to terms with who I was and starting to become worthy of another person's affection, maybe. I knew I still had a long way to go.

Cliff was sitting back in his seat, watching me. His face was neutral, impassive. He was listening. He did not judge. At least not yet. He also did not ask me to continue, and I understood why. He wanted to give me the same courtesy that I gave him. He would wait until I was ready. I knew I could probably stop here and he would not push, but now the fat was in the fire and it wouldn't be fair to him not to let him know the whole truth.

"All my life I'd been a real bastard," it wasn't easy to continue, but I trudged on. "There are a lot of reasons for it that weren't in my control, but I have to take responsibility too. I really loved Jasper, even when I didn't realize it, even when I considered him just my best friend, but it didn't stop me from treating him like crap, from trying to control him and make him do things that were only in my best interest. That Freshman year he started pulling away, and I felt threatened, so I started treating him even worse than before. I did a horrible thing that forced him to come out and then I treated him so badly he moved out. I basically drove him into the arms of another man, who ended up abusing him physically."

Cliff tried to keep his face blank, but he couldn't quite hide a cringe.

"I wish I could say that was the worst of it," I said morosely. I fell silent. Suddenly I didn't want to say any more. There was no point.

"Maybe we should get the check," I said, looking around for the waitress. "You must have somewhere to go or something better to do." I finally caught her eye and signaled for the check. I chanced a glace back at Cliff. He was still watching me, his expression completely unreadable. I could only imagine what he was thinking, and it wasn't anything good. I bet he was cursing himself for ever agreeing to go get that cup of coffee to begin with.

The waitress came back and placed the check on the table. "Here you go, boys. Just pay up front."

I tried to grab for it but he was faster. "This was my invitation, so it's my treat," he said. I figured he didn't want to owe me anything, so I didn't protest. He pulled out his wallet and placed the tip on the table. Then we each got up and headed towards the register so he could pay. That done, we walked out into the parking lot. I walked ahead of him to get to the car faster. It was stupid, but in my mind the faster I got to the car, the faster he could get me home, and this horrible farce of a date could be over. I don't know why I ever thought I was ready to do this. There was a chance I would be ready someday, but I certainly wasn't ready yet. I hadn't earned the right yet to be with anyone. I hadn't paid my dues. I hadn't suffered enough.

"Edward, wait!" he said behind me, his voice commanding. It was so unexpected, I automatically stopped and turned around. Startled, I felt his hands on my face and then his lips were pressing against mine. At first, I was too shocked to react, but then my lips moved against his almost of their own accord. The sensation was exhilarating, thrilling. Without thinking, I wrapped my arms around his waist and pulled him closer, relishing the full body contact. I'd never kissed a man other than Jasper, and I was amazed at how good it made me feel. I didn't know what was going on. I only knew I didn't want him to stop.

And he didn't stop. Not right away, anyway. We continued to kiss, his lips pressing hard against mine, even as our breathing got more ragged and we could feel each other's hearts start to race. Then he finally pulled away, sliding his hands down to rest against my chest and moving his face into the crook of my neck. I held him tightly, wanting to prolong the moment. I had no idea what happened, why he did what he did. I didn't dare disturb the magic by asking. So we simply stood there, in silence, holding each other, letting our breathing calm.

"I had a feeling it would feel like that," he finally whispered, so softly I could barely hear it above the traffic noise. I leaned back to look at him and he did the same. I couldn't ask the question, so I hoped my eyes did the speaking for me. Fortunately, he seemed to understand.

"I haven't been with anyone since Gio..." he took a deep breath, "since he died. Until I met you, I hadn't felt anything towards anyone else. That's why when Seth... "

I nodded. I was most familiar with Seth's philosophy of getting back on the horse right after you fell off. For some of us, things were not always that simple.

"But when I saw you that day and we touched, for the first time I felt something. And it was strong. I still wasn't sure I could go through with it - be with someone other than him. But I've been thinking about it. Thinking about you. Not always in a chaste way."

He looked away, suddenly shy again.

"Really?" I asked incredulously. "Me too," I admitted.

It was his turn to be surprised, but also a little pleased. He splayed his fingers and rubbed his hands in circles over my pecs. Even through my dual layer of shirts, his touch felt incredible. Instinctively, I lifted my left hand and rubbed it against his upper back.

"I couldn't bring myself to call," he explained. "I was scared, and I almost managed to convince myself that it I just imagined everything, that it was only the fact that I hadn't been with anyone for so long that was causing these feelings. I even tried looking and talking to other guys, to see if my reaction would be similar, and when it wasn't I was convinced that my mind was playing tricks on me and making the time with you into something it hadn't been. But when I saw you today I felt that energy again, and I just knew I couldn't ignore it or let it go. And I was right, Edward. This kiss, it was incredible. I honestly didn't think I would ever feel that good again."

I stared at him. I heard everything he was saying. I got that he enjoyed the kiss and I was glad. If anyone out there deserved to enjoy something it was him. But just because the kiss worked didn't mean that it was a good idea for him to get involved with an asshole like me. He belonged with someone as sweet as him, someone who hadn't spent a lifetime trying to destroy the people around him. I somehow had to find a way to explain all that to him, without hurting him in the process.

"Cliff," I began slowly, trying to think about every word, to make sure I didn't say something stupid. "I feel the same way you did about that kiss, and I really enjoy your company. But I just don't feel like I'm the right person for you. I hurt people, even people I supposedly love. I hurt them with words, thoughts and actions. And you've had more than enough pain in your life. I really don't think it would be good for you to..."

He moved his right hand to cover my lips and stop me from speaking.

"Don't say any more," he ordered. "I know you haven't told me everything. I can see you're scared to, worried that if I know everything I won't want to be with you. But you know what else I see? I see a man who realizes he had been wrong and had hurt people. I see a man who is now friends with people he hated and who hated him. I see a man who is in counseling to try to change even more. And I see a man who may have a way to go, because he's still trying to control others around him, make decisions for them they should be making for themselves."

The last statement startled me. I looked down at the ground in shame. He was right. Clearly I hadn't come as far in counseling as I would have liked. All the more reason for him to run in the other direction.

"Edward?" it was the commanding voice again, forcing me to look into his eyes. He shifted his hand from my lips to my cheek, stroking it gently. "If you don't want this to go further because I come with too much baggage, I'll understand. Just tell me that. Be honest with me. But if that's not it, then let me decide if I want to take a chance on being with you, okay? You gave me plenty of warning, probably too much, but certainly enough for me to make an informed decision. And for now I've decided that I want to take a chance and see where this goes. I want to learn more about you, get to know you better. Please, don't take away my right to make this choice."

I could feel moisture filling my eyes. I hated being so fucking emotional, yet I couldn't stop. I never imagined I would find someone who knew I was a mess and still wanted to be with me. Well, anyone other than Jasper. He had stayed with me through as much as he could, until he became too afraid I would destroy him if he stayed any longer. But Cliff was right. I was trying to change. I had changed. Maybe not as much as I needed to, maybe my progress was slower than I hoped, maybe I was still very capable of inflicting pain, without even trying, but I at least knew I would never do to anyone else what I had done to Jasper. And Cliff was right about something else. I had to let him make his own decisions.

He was watching me carefully, clearly trying to read in my face what was going on in my head. But there were only so many times in one day I could expect him to be clairvoyant.

"Okay," I said. "You're right. Let's keep going and see what happens."

He smiled, then leaned forward and kissed me again, this time softly and sweetly. I closed my eyes, not quite believing how much pleasure could flow from such a simple act. He had such warm, supple lips, and they felt so right moving against mine.

"We can call it a day if you'd like," he said after he finally pulled away, still stroking my cheek with his hand. "But I don't have anywhere to be, so if you want to go somewhere and keep talking, I would really like that. It doesn't have to be about anything heavy. We can save that for another day, if you'd like. I'm just not quite ready to let you go today."

Knowing that this was Rose and Maggie's date night, and that I wasn't ready to let him go either, I didn't hesitate.

"Would you like to come to my place?" I asked. "Just to talk," I added, to make it clear that I had no ulterior motive.

"Yeah," he nodded. "I'd like that very much."

We got back to the car and I gave him directions to my apartment. I was excited to have him see my home, but also nervous. My living situation was not exactly typical.

"There's something you should know," I said, figuring it was best to tell him in advance. "I don't live alone."

"You have a roommate?"

"Two, actually. My sister, Maggie, and her wife, Rosalie."

"You have a gay sister?" He asked incredulously. Then, after hesitating a moment, he continued. "Are you twins?"

"No," I shook my head. "More like Irish twins, but we're only 3 months apart."

He furrowed his brow, thoroughly confused. I couldn't blame him. Maggie and I were definitely not conventional siblings.

"Maggie is my half-sister. We had different moms. My father wasn't a big fan of fidelity or condoms."

"Oh," he said. "But despite having different moms you grew up together?"

"No. We grew up in the same town, but I didn't know she was my sister until my father told me when I turned 12, to make sure that once I became sexually active I stayed away from her," I said with a shudder.

"I see," he tried to sound non-judgmental, but I could tell I was shocking him. "And once you knew, the two of you became close?"

I chuckled darkly. "Not exactly. We actually couldn't stand one another and didn't acknowledge that we were related. I was just like my father then. I was the big man on campus and in town, and everyone cow towed to me and did what I wanted them to do. Except Maggie. She stayed under the radar and in the shadows, but she never followed me. I thought after we graduated high school I'd never see her again."

"So what happened?"

"That's a really long story that I will share with you, but maybe not tonight. Suffice it to say that at the end of my Freshman year I was in a really dark place and ended up in a hospital. I refused to go back home to recover, so my mom called Maggie and asked her to help me. For reasons only she can explain, Maggie agreed, and she and Rose moved in to help me out for a while. A year later they're still there, and are about to add a new tenant. Maggie's about 5 months pregnant."

His eyes opened wide.

"Wow. So you... you're going to be an uncle?"

"I guess so," I grinned. "Kind of weird, huh? I know growing up as an only child I never thought I'd be in that position. And trust me, one of the best things about being gay is that no one I'm with will ever have to go through morning sickness, which is the biggest misnomer I ever heard. They should call it morning, noon, night and any time in between sickness. I don't know how the hell Rosalie coped with that."

"Huh," Cliff mused, "I guess I never even thought about that, but yes, I see what you mean."

We pulled up in front of my building and headed for the entrance. I silently prayed that we would not run into Seth or Emmett, as I most definitely did not want to have to make any introductions or offer any explanations. If all went well, Cliff and I could talk for a while and then part tonight without anyone knowing he had been over. It's not that I was trying to hide him from my friends and family. It's just that this was so new, and I myself knew so very little, I simply wasn't ready to face the grand inquisition. All the more so when the master inquisitor himself knew more about Cliff than I did.

Luck was on my side and we managed to make it into the apartment without running into anyone I knew. I flipped on the lights and tossed my wallet, phone and keys onto the hall table.

"Make yourself at home," I told Cliff, pointing towards the living room. "Would you like something to drink? We have beer, wine, hard stuff."

"I'm driving," Cliff said quietly. "I'd better not."

"Oh, right," thirty seconds in the apartment and I was already stepping in it. How could I forget about the horrific accident he'd told me about a mere couple of hours ago, that took the lives of three people he loved? Of course after something like that he would not want to drink and drive. I was such an ass. "We have water and soda too, but only regular decaffeinated. Rose decreed the apartment a caffeine and artificial sweetener free zone until after the baby is born."

"Some water would be great," he said. I grabbed two glasses and poured water from the filtered pitcher in the fridge. After replacing the pitcher, I walked over to him with the glasses. He was standing in front of the book case, looking at the photos displayed there.

"Maggie and Rosalie?" he asked, pointing towards a head shot of the girls. "Maggie is the redhead?"

"Yes," I said, surprised.

"It's easy to see the resemblance. She has your eyes."

I smiled, pleased that he'd noticed.

"Yes, we do share that feature. The picture next to it is Liam and Siobhan, Maggie's parents. Then Jason, Mary and Steven, Rosalie's brother and parents. My mom, Esme. Emmett, Seth and me, hiking. The girls and me at Seth & Emmett's Oscar party - we were supposed to dress up like characters from our favorite movie - Seth's idea, of course. And my new nephew to be, in all his ultrasound glory."

"These are great, Edward. It's nice to be able to see your family before I get to meet them. Assuming, of course," he back pedaled, "that I do get to meet them someday."

"That will be up to you," I told him sincerely, "I would very much like for you to meet them."

He smiled, and glanced around the room, his eyes resting on the upright piano. "Do you play?" he asked.

I shook my head. "Not really. That's Maggie's, and she's been trying to teach me a little since she's moved in, but she's the talent in the family. She actually plays for a living, at charity receptions, corporate events, stuff like that. It's how she and Rose met. Maggie was playing at some charity event that Rose attended. It's actually a great story. They'd been dating for several months before my accident, and when Maggie agreed to help me recuperate, they decided to move in together here, with me."

I grabbed his elbow and guided him to the couch, so we could continue talking in comfort. We sat down before he spoke again.

"I imagine that couldn't have been easy for you. You barely knew Maggie at the time, right?"

"That's right and yes, it was very difficult at first. I was extremely self-absorbed and lost in my very own private corner of hell. All I wanted was to be left alone to wallow in my self-pity. I really hated myself, hated what was happening to me, and didn't think I could survive without Jasper. Didn't want to survive without him. It was the second time he'd left me and that time he did it in a way that... " I stopped. Talking about it was too painful. "I was a mess." I summed up. He reached over to take my hand.

"I know what that's like," he offered. "After the accident I didn't want to go on either. I didn't understand why they were all taken and I was left behind to suffer. I was angry with them for dying, angry with God and the men who rescued me for saving my life. So many people were there to support me, but I didn't see any of them. I couldn't focus on what I had, only on what I lost."

"It's funny," I told him, "Or maybe not funny at all, but before I landed in the hospital the only person in my life I'd ever been able to turn to was Jasper, and I'd driven him away. After the accident, when Maggie and Rose and Seth and Emmett became my support network, I wondered if that was my punishment, if I was going to be tormented to death by these people who hated me. And with the exception of Rosalie, they all had very good reasons to hate me. It was really difficult for me to trust them and for them to trust me. But somehow they saw through the wall I was trying to put up and they persisted, and refused to take any of my shit without throwing it right back at me. And eventually even I realized that they were trying to help me and had my best interests at heart."

"We were both very fortunate," he noted and squeezed my hand. Then he leaned in and kissed me again, just a brief kiss, his lips barely touching my own before he pulled away. I stared at him, uncertain of what to do next. Until now he had initiated all of our kisses. I wanted more than what we just did, but I was terrified to pursue physical contact. The last time I had, the only time I've ever been with a man, I terrified him so much he fled across the country. I thought I could control myself better now. It was easier with Cliff, whom I barely knew, than it had been with Jasper, whom I'd wanted for months by the time we finally got together. Still, what if I was just too selfish and aggressive by nature, and scared Cliff away anyway? Wouldn't it be smarter to let him set the pace in the beginning? And if he wanted to take it slower than I did, wasn't he worth the wait?

"It's okay, Edward," he said, interrupting my thoughts. "You can kiss me. I'm not some china doll. I won't break."

I looked down, embarrassed that my thoughts had been so obvious. I saw him set aside his glass and felt him reach for mine, taking it out of my hand and setting it next to his. He lifted my chin and looked straight into my eyes. "Show me I'm not the only one who wants this."

His words and the sincerity in his eyes were all the invitation I needed. I leaned into him, wrapping my right arm around him to pull him closer, and covered his lips with mine. I wasn't gentle or tentative. I kissed him the way I'd wanted to all along, passionately, possessively and authoritatively. It was the only way I knew how to kiss, and his enthusiastic response told me he didn't object. He snaked one of his arms around my waist, resting it in the small of my back as he twined the fingers of the other hand in my hair. I kissed him harder still and let my left hand roam his chest, palming his pecs and feeling his nipples harden through the soft fabric of his Henley. He let out a small moan that traveled through my whole body like a low level electrical current. His lips parted and my tongue immediately sought entrance into his waiting mouth, thrilling at finding and sliding against its counterpart.

Using my hands on his back and chest, I twisted his body and gently pushed until he was lying on the couch, his head resting on the throw pillow. I maintained our kiss as I descended with him, reclining over him. I moved my left hand down to the hem of his Henley and slid it upwards against his skin to tweak his hardened nipple. Our tongues moved together, massaging each other. Then my mouth left his so I could place wet kisses along his slightly stubbled jaw line and down his neck, where I sucked lightly so as not to leave a mark, cognizant that he may not be ready to let the world know that he had decided to start dating again.

Our breathing became more labored, and our sighs and moans grew louder, as our midsections rolled and undulated against one another. As his back lifted momentarily off the couch, I lowered my right hand and inserted it into the back of his jeans to cup his butt, elated to find he was not wearing underwear.

"Shit, Edward," he said, and for a moment I panicked, thinking that maybe I'd gone too far. I relaxed as he continued, "That feels so good."

"I know. For me too," I assured him, before I resumed sucking and licking his neck. I was extremely turned on, and my erection strained painfully in the confines of my briefs and jeans. As our hips ground together, I could tell he was in a similar state. Suddenly I desperately wanted to touch him, feel him, stroke him. But before I could do anything, he took his hand out of my hair and moved it to between my legs, grasping my hard cock through my jeans.

"Ohh," I gasped out against his neck, his touch, and how good it felt, catching me by surprise. He relaxed his grip.

"Is this OK?" he asked, his voice tinged with concern. I merely nodded, panting heavily against his neck.

"Is more than this OK?" now he sounded hopeful, as his grip tightened again and he began to move his hand over my entire length.

"Uh-huh," I finally found my voice, albeit huskier and more lust laced than normal. I hoped by more he meant direct skin on skin contact, because right then I craved that more than air. He stroked me a few times through the fabric, before moving his hand up.

"Help me undo these," he said urgently, fumbling one-handed with the buckle of my belt, even as he tried to maneuver his other hand between us.

I lifted up to a sitting position and reached to undo my belt and open up my jeans.

"You too," I directed, hoping he needed my touch as much as I needed his. He readily complied, and soon both of our jeans were open, mine to reveal my white briefs, and his to a mass of curls, slightly darker than his hair. My cock was straining upward, nearly peeking out of the waistband of my briefs, making it easy for him to grasp it. He slid his palm over my precum-slicked head, before closing it around my shaft and stroking slowly and deliberately.

"Ugh," I groaned. It had been a year since my cock had been touched by anyone other than me and I'd almost forgotten how incredible it felt, especially when the handler was as skilled as Cliff appeared to be. I watched as he pumped his hand over me, every now and then twisting his wrist slightly to vary the sensation. I raised my eyes to look at him, only to see that his eyes had been lowered as well. Then, as if sensing my gaze, he looked up with his large, pale blue, slightly glazed over eyes.

"I love that you're uncut," he said quietly as he stroked me simply by moving my excess skin along my shaft, without having to re-locate his hand. "You're beautiful. You know that, right?"

Instead of responding verbally, I leaned into him again and sucked his lower lip between mine, then let it go and outlined it with my tongue. I realized that I still needed to touch him, to try to make him feel the things he was doing to me. I reached into his jeans and down his left pant leg, where his hard-on had lodged itself within his tightly fitted jeans.

I couldn't wrap my hand around him in the confined space, so I just skimmed my fingers along the top, feeling the silky smoothness occasionally interrupted by a more prominent vein, which I followed, like a blind man reading Braille, down to his engorged head. I curled my fingers around the tip of his cock and slowly and carefully maneuvered it up and out of his jeans, until it stood free and unencumbered. Finally unrestricted, I slid my fingers along his slit to gather as much of his precum as I could, then circled my fingers around his shaft and began moving my hand.

I watched as he closed his eyes and breathed out a soft "yeah," followed by a deep inhale. Not having adequate lubrication, I kept my hand movements slow and steady, his hand on me keeping pace. I moved my other hand back under his shirt, lifting it as much as I could to squeeze his pecs and play with his nipples. His excited sighs and moans were an incredible turn-on, and soon we were both bucking our hips into each other's hands. I closed my eyes, enjoying the sensation and thinking that pretty soon I would have to slick up my hand somehow to really get things going, when I heard voices out in the hall and the jingling of keys.