Disclaimer: I do not own Twilight or any of the characters (though apparently this doesn't matter). I also don't own Brian Kinney's one-liners that I continue to use. No copyright infringement is intended.

Author's Note: I don't know if anyone will read this, as it's been a year and a half since my last outtake, but Spanksper decided to talk to me again so here you go. This takes place right after Jasper graduates from college, so about three years after the last outtake. Contains graphic content but nothing in particular that's too alarming, I don't think. Other than feelings. Ick. Feelings.

Thank you to coolbreeeze and OnTheTurningAway, the bestest betas and friends a person could ask for. I trust them implicitly and having them both in my gdocs again has given me a rush of nostalgic swooning

Edward graduated from Berkeley in two and a half years. He stayed an extra semester after that on a research grant, and then he moved to Massachusetts to work on his PhD at MIT.

It might have been the distance from his parents, or maybe it was the stress and competition of graduate school, but the longer he was away, the more the old Edward Cullen I hated in high school started to reappear. This version was different, though. I had seen him come so hard he cried, and I knew that person was still in there under the bravado, so I couldn't hate him the way I did back in Forks. I knew him too well now.

He would call me or Skype me, sometimes just to talk, but sometimes he would be so desperate to come he would practically beg for it, until I talked him through getting off as he fucked himself on a dildo.

One day I asked him why he didn't just go to a gay bar and pick someone up to fuck him, and the expression on his face went almost sheepish. He confessed that he fucked one of the other grad students, a chick, as a power play, but that it wasn't the same and he hadn't been with anyone else. Then his voice got serious, the tone I knew he used around people when he was trying to make an authoritative point, and he said, "I know enough about human sexuality to not find it entertaining as recreation anymore."

"You just Skyped me for virtual sex, asshole."

"Our dynamic is different."

I couldn't argue. Sex with other guys wasn't the same. I did it to get off, which generally worked out okay for all parties involved, but it was different. No one else gave me what Edward did; it wasn't that they didn't let me take control, it was that they didn't just give over that control. And since I wasn't interested in dating, I never really got to know anyone else like I knew Edward. Edward Cullen was an asshole, a genius, and a complete anomaly, and he gave it all over to me without question.

On holidays, he would come back to Seattle and when we managed to get some time together, when I could spank him and fuck him like I used to, it reminded me of what I was missing.

But it was actually Peter who changed everything.

As it turned out, my kid brother worked hard in high school, so hard that when he started applying to colleges, he applied to some of the top ranked schools in the country. He was disappointed when the rejection letter from Yale came, but the very next day the thick, tell-tale envelope came from Dartmouth.

Of course, deflating his sails immediately, mom told him that under no circumstances was he going to Dartmouth, because she couldn't move across the country. What she meant was that she wouldn't, because she didn't want to pick up everything and start a whole new life. Obviously, I didn't blame her for that, but the fact that she didn't even seem proud of him for getting in pissed me off. It clearly pissed off Peter, because later that day I walked in on a shouting match between them.

"I'm 18! I can do what I want!"

Peter was so mild-mannered he never yelled like that, so of course, I had to butt in. "It's no wonder he wants to move to the other side of the country, the way you smother him."

"I don't smother him! He can't live on his own!" She turned to Peter softening her voice a little. "You're a very smart and capable boy, but sometimes you just need help with things your body won't let you do, and there's nothing wrong with that, but I'm not going to let you go all the way across the country by yourself."

"You just want to keep me locked up here forever because you don't want to be alone!" he shouted.

It didn't sound at all like Peter. In spite of everything, the kid wasn't cynical. It was something I was sure he had heard from me.

Mom gasped, "I don't like what you're implying. And if you don't show me a little respect, then that's just proof you aren't mature enough to be on your own."

"Then I'll go with him!" I shouted, before I quite realized the words were out of my mouth.

They both turned to look at me; Peter's face was full of hopeful enthusiasm while the color drained from mom's face in resignation.

It took a lot of convincing and planning, but after I managed to line up a job, there weren't any more reasons mom could give to keep Peter and me from moving to New Hampshire after we both graduated later that spring. The guy I worked for in the summers had a brother in nearby Lebanon who was a contractor. He was trying to cut back his hours, to phase out so he could retire, but he didn't have anyone to take over. With my business degree and my experience working construction, I didn't even technically have to apply.

Peter and I found an apartment right off campus, so he wouldn't feel too separate from the university. I didn't want to live around a bunch of idiot college kids, but our landlord assured us that the area was mostly where grad students ended up, so it wouldn't be like living in Greek row.

I graduated from college in May. Rosalie and Emmett came down from Alaska for commencement, and even my dad showed up. When he found out that Peter and I were moving east, he was oddly supportive of the idea. He even promised to visit us over Thanksgiving. I didn't know if he was honestly okay with it or if he just knew my mom hated it, but he gave me a hug after the ceremony and said, "I know you'll take good care of Peter, son."

It was true that Peter would always have a limp and some motor function problems. One side of his body was just weaker than the other. The day he graduated from high school a large, oblong box arrived at our house, postmarked from Massachusetts. There was no return address, but I only knew one person in Massachusetts. Peter didn't seem to care who it was from as he tore it open. Inside was a ridiculously ornate cane that looked like a prop from a bad blaxploitation movie from the 70s. Peter couldn't stop grinning.

I searched through the packing material for a note, but couldn't find one. Not that I needed the confirmation.

Peter always referred to Edward as my boyfriend, and at some point I stopped correcting him. It was easier than explaining to Peter whatever the non-defined, non-conventional dynamic Edward and I had was.

I had slipped when talking to Edward on the phone one day that summer and told him when we were moving. He immediately asked for our new address.

"Edward, you don't-"

"I'm helping you move in, so shut up."

Sure enough, he was waiting for us when we arrived with the truck. I was exhausted after the cross-country drive and was grateful for Edward's help-not that I would let him know that. Emmett had been planning on coming with us and then flying back, but his dad got into a hunting accident and had to go into surgery the day before we left, so he was out of commission.

Peter was thrilled to see Edward. He clamored out of the truck and strutted over to him, showing off his cane.

"He's been shopping for fedoras online. This is your fault entirely," I called out as I stepped around the truck.

I hadn't seen Edward all summer, the last time he had been in Seattle was during his Spring Break, but he looked exactly the same, looking at me with his real, genuine smile that I never saw him give to anyone else. With Peter there, I thought he might hold back more, but Edward pulled me into a hug that lingered way beyond "bro hug" territory.

"Since we're in New Hampshire, are you guys gonna get gay married now?" Peter's voice caused us to pull apart.

Edward raised an eyebrow at me and we both started laughing.

"What? Why is that funny? You've been together forever."

"My parents are reason enough not to ever consider marriage," Edward said. It was a weird but honest answer. My parents were divorced, but they weren't nearly as fucked up as Edward's.

"I always liked Dr. Carlisle," Peter said with a shrug. I had forgotten that Carlisle had been one of Peter's doctors between trips to his specialist in Port Angeles.

"Come on, I need to get the trailer back to the moving place by five or they'll charge me for another day."

Edward and I emptied out the trailer pretty quickly, and then got Peter's room set up first. We didn't bring a lot with us, and my new boss apparently had a ton of old furniture he was just going to give us. It was a two hour drive back to Cambridge, so Edward stayed with us that night. We ordered pizza from a place down the street. Peter nearly fell asleep while he was eating, but Edward and I stayed awake awhile longer.

We couldn't do anything with Peter in the next room, so we got in my bed and watched a movie on my laptop. Edward left early the next morning, kissing me long and sloppily enough at the front door for Peter to yell, "Get a room!" at us.

"I have a room, do you really want us to-"

"No!"

"I have to go anyway. I have to meet with my advisor tomorrow, and he's expecting some lab results I haven't taken yet."

"Next time I'm coming to you," I muttered, as Peter started complaining about how we needed groceries.

It was different, living in New Hampshire. It reminded me of Forks a little, although I missed some things about living in a city. Peter, of course, did fine. Although I hated to admit that my mom was right, he probably would have had trouble in the dorms, but he liked all of his classes and joined clubs, and he had more friends in a week than he ever had in high school.

My job was good. I was basically just an apprentice to start out. I had to deal with a lot of boring paperwork—budgets, blueprints, permits, licenses—but it was a small business, mostly remodels and restorations, so I got the opportunity to do some carpentry too, in the shop attached to the office.

A few weeks after Peter started classes and he assured me that he wouldn't do anything stupid over the weekend and that he would contact me immediately if he needed anything, I went to visit Edward.

I called him on Friday before I left.

"When I get there, you'd better be naked and stretched."

"Fuck, Jasper," he growled. "I'm in the lab right now."

"You know, I've always sort of wanted to bend you over a lab table."

He groaned quietly. "If you keep talking, I'm not giving you directions."

The tone in his voice made me assume someone was in the lab with him.

"All right, all right. Hey, did you know your mom's Queen Anne chair is a fake?"

"What?"

"Yeah, we do restorations, and I saw the real thing today."

"Well, I know what I'm getting her for her birthday now."

"Really? An antique chair?"

"Fuck no, I'm going to tell her it's a fake."

"Your mommy issues are hot."

"You moved 3000 miles out of spite over yours. I don't think you have room to talk."

"Hey! I had other reasons."

"I know my ass is legendary- Fuck, Jasper, I have to go."

I heard another person speaking more clearly in the background. When Edward spoke to me again, the humor was gone from his voice.

"I'll text you my address. See you in a couple hours?"

"Yeah."

I wasn't surprised that Edward had an entire house to himself. I assumed it was Carlisle and Esme's, but I didn't know if Edward had his own trust fund or something. It was an old house; I could see the places on the building where work had been done to restore the original facade. It even had a front porch. I rang the doorbell and moments later it swung open, revealing a completely naked Edward.

My dick grew interested almost immediately.

"You're going to get arrested for indecent exposure."

"So, cover me up," he said, stepping out onto the porch.

I tossed my bag inside and launched myself at him, walking him back into the house, sucking a bruise onto his neck while I grabbed his ass and squeezed before letting my fingers wander over to feel the silicone shoved between his cheeks.

"I'd give you the tour, but I'm thinking it can wait."

"I want to try the cane again." I said, ignoring his attempt at banter.

Edward tensed against me.

We had never talked about it again, at least not specifically. I think we both considered it a failure, and Edward Cullen didn't fail. But then, neither did I.

I stepped back until I was looking him in the eye.

"You sent my brother a pimp cane."

Edward's lips quirked up and his body relaxed a little. "I did."

"I took it as message on your part."

"Maybe it was. At least subconsciously," Edward admitted.

I snorted. Like Edward Cullen ever did anything without intention. He was the epitome of a control freak. He even once told me that he was a lucid dreamer.

"I trust myself with it now."

He stared at me hard for a few seconds before he simply said, "Okay."

"Okay." I exhaled. I thought he'd put up more resistance. "Okay. I'd like to do this on a bed."

He nodded and then turned toward the stairs. I grabbed my duffel bag and followed him with a sense of deja vu, watching his ass flex as he slowly climbed the stairs. I fought the urge to give it a slap, and give into his teasing. He turned into the first doorway on the left.

I gave a quick glance around the room. It was mostly nondescript, but like Edward's bedroom at his parents' house in Forks, the walls were lined with bookshelves that were packed so full with books, there were piles of more books sitting in front them. I let all the quips about Edward's nerdiness in my head died on my tongue. I didn't want Edward to think I wasn't taking this seriously.

"On your stomach."

He shuddered at the sound of my voice and did as he was told, lowering himself to the bed, letting his feet dangle off the edge, spreading his legs wide enough so that I would be able to stand between them.

As he got into position, I took off my clothes, not wanting anything to get in the way of my movement. I went slowly, folding my t-shirt and jeans, rolling my socks and putting them inside my shoes. I needed Edward's sense of anticipation to build. As I was pulling the cane out of my bag, I could see that he was still squirming a little, adjusting his position, so I spoke.

"You need to relax, Edward. And remember it's okay if it's too much."

"It's been a long time," he responded, resting his forehead on his forearms, finally stilling.

I approached the bed slowly, setting the cane down next to him where he could see it if he turned his head. Then I ran my hands over his body, reacquainting myself with his skin, the firm muscles of his back, and the round curve of his ass.

I warmed him up, slapping with my hands first, watching the pink flush spread across Edward's perfect ass.

"Yes," Edward sighed. "I've fucking missed this."

"You are far too articulate, given your position."

"Then shut me up."

I didn't respond with words. I slowly counted to twenty in my head, silently daring Edward to turn back and look at me. Of course, he didn't, but he did flinch in surprise when I slapped across his cheeks harder than I had before. Although, I didn't want to hurt him with too much too soon.

I was ready this time for the cane. I had watched a lot of videos online and practiced on pillows, but I had also tried it on myself, on the front of my thighs. I understood the double sensation of pain, as it struck and as it released. I knew exactly how much pain it could cause.

I picked up the cane. It was flexible, made of birch, and more like a reed switch than a cane used to walk.

I traced the tip of it down Edward's back, up, and back again, bringing it to rest at the base of Edward's spine.

"I'm using the cane now. You have to tell me immediately if it's too much."

"Okay."

"I mean it."

"I do too." Then Edward let out a deep breath.

I held the cane in my hand loosely, knowing that it would easily bounce off Edward's body that way. I circled my wrist a few times, warming up before I got into position.

I looked down at Edward, his body flushed and inviting. Then I flicked my wrist, and a crack sliced through the air followed by a thwack against Edward's skin.

Edward gasped. It cut off into a choked noise as I quickly lifted the cane from his ass, leaving a nice, pink, double stripe on his right cheek. It looked like it belonged there.

"You have to let me know as soon as it's too much." I repeated my words from before.

Edward nodded but didn't turn around.

I struck again on the opposite cheek, making another stripe to match the first. Edward cursed. I used the tip of the cane again to trace up the back of one of Edward's legs and then the other, making sure his whole body was present.

Then I changed directions and struck again. This time Edward's cry was an incoherent jumble of words.

I struck again.

In spite of his initial hesitation, he kept keening back, pushing his ass up toward me like an offering after the sting of each cane strike wore off. I kept a rhythm, careful to pace myself, not wanting to push him too far.

"I'm going for your upper back now, Edward. Is that okay?"

"Yes, yes," he panted.

I prolonged the pain, drawing it out, not striking harder, but leaving the cane to rest for a second before I pulled it back, so Edward felt the initial shock of pain and then the release.

I was so focused on Edward, the way his hair was standing up at the back of his neck, the way his toes curled with every hit of the cane, the last part of his body to relax before I flicked my wrist and let it land again. At some point I stopped asking if he was okay, trusting him to tell me if it was too much. He had stopped holding back his cries, and was letting loose with noises I had never heard him make before. It was pain, but it was more than that.

Everything else left my mind, and it was just me and Edward. I didn't know how I had managed to go so long without the thrum of power, without Edward. His ass grew hot and patterned, a grid of harsh red marks, joined by a few diagonal welts on his upper back.

It was symmetrical, balanced, perfect.

I realized that sweat was dripping off me. Edward hissed when a drop hit his back. He was starting to shake. I knew he was close to breaking, but I didn't want to make him use his safeword.

I dropped the cane. My whole body was buzzing, as if caning Edward had made me high, like Edward's body was a drug to me. My dick was hard, but it didn't matter. I could always fuck Edward later; it just felt more important in that moment to get Edward off, to give him as much pleasure as possible after putting him through that kind of pain.

Kneeling on the bed, I straddled one of Edward's legs, careful not to jostle him too much or touch his heated skin.

I didn't need to see it to know he was desperate to get off, even though he managed to look boneless, lying lifeless on the bed. As soon as my fingers touched the plug, he jolted. I pulled it out slowly, drawing a gasp out of him. I thought about pushing it back in, fucking Edward that way, but that wasn't what I wanted. Instead, I pushed two fingers inside Edward's loosened hole. He was slick with lube from preparing himself before. I wondered if he used his own fingers, or if he just eased the plug in slowly, letting it do the work.

He started rutting against the mattress as I fucked him with my fingers, getting the angle right as best I could. Were it anyone else, he would have looked ridiculous, but even sweating and covered in cane marks, dry-humping a mattress, Edward looked like he could be in a fucking shampoo commercial.

I could practically see his willpower coming off him, trying to keep himself together, trying not to come, waiting for me to tell him. But I didn't want him to prolong it anymore, so I fucked him harder, saying "let go" as I pushed a third finger inside him.

That's when Edward broke. His orgasm seemed to explode from him. He started shaking, twitching violently, like a bunch of broken pieces.

All the plans I had formulated to make him suck me off were erased. After giving me so much, there was no way I could ask anything else from him tonight. I grabbed my dick, my fingers still slick from being in Edward's ass, and I stroked myself off as quickly as I could. I barely took any time before I was spurting onto Edward's ass.

He was still shaking a little as I came down.

"You're okay, Edward. You're okay." I repeated it over and over again until the tremor went out of his body. I rubbed his thighs as I spoke, the only place I was sure I could touch without making him flinch in pain.

Once he let out what sounded like a contented groan, I got up.

"I'll be right back. I just want to clean you up," I said gently.

I had a special salve, one that was antiseptic and supposedly soothing. Edward's back and ass weren't bleeding. I had taken care not to break the skin, although I think Edward would have let me. I think he probably would have let me do anything to his body I wanted, but I wouldn't scar him, not like that.

He moaned as I gently applied the salve to his welts, still not speaking. When I was done, I saw his eyes were closed, but I knew he wasn't asleep. I sat at the edge of the bed beside him and waited. I didn't know exactly what was going on; it had never taken him so long to recover before. He used to snap back into being asshole Edward immediately, but as the years had gone by, he let himself go for longer and longer.

Eventually he started moving a little, and then he jerked his head up like he suddenly remembered what had just happened. He moved slowly, pushing himself up onto his hands and knees first. Then he turned his head and looked back frantically until his eyes found mine.

"Jasper," his voice was hoarse.

"Where did you go?" I asked.

He didn't answer. Instead, he reached for me, and I let myself be pulled on top of him as he rolled onto his back, wincing as his fresh welts hit the sheets under him. He was trying to bring me down for a kiss, but I held myself up for a second, balancing on my hands and peering down into his face. I sort of felt like I needed to make sure he was still in there somewhere.

"Edward?"

"Jasper, I need you," he rasped.

He didn't need to say it, it was something we both knew. He needed me ever since that first time, when I spanked him on the stairs in Forks. It wasn't about sex, not really, and I wondered if it ever had been for Edward. His eyes were so wide and fucking bare that I was suddenly fighting the urge to get up and walk out of the room without looking back. Edward was basically offering himself to me, trusting me with power I didn't know if I could handle or even wanted to test myself with. It was fucked up. Edward Cullen was the smartest person I had ever met. He was manipulative and confident and with the right resources, I was pretty sure he could take over the world. I had moved across the country for my brother's sake, but it was also to be closer to Edward. It didn't completely make sense to me, and I had to know.

"Jesus fucking christ, Edward. What is this?"

His eyes narrowed, and the Edward I had known for years returned.

I shook my head at him, silently telling him not to be defensive.

"It's a pathological fucking need, and I can't explain it, really, other than you make everything else go away for awhile. I don't have to analyze it or measure it. The only thing you want from me is for me to let go and give you control, and if you want me to say it, fine, you're the only person I trust with it. I didn't plan for this to happen, but I'm just better when you're around."

He closed his eyes and was shaking his head back and forth, like he couldn't believe what he just admitted.

"Edward, I'm here, okay?"

He opened his eyes.

"I'm here," I repeated.

And then I kissed him.

FIN

A/N: This feels like an end, but I'm not marking this series of outtakes as complete. Even though I am a part of other fandoms, I still regularly receive love for this story, and I'm grateful to all of you who continue to read and appreciate a kink!fic that somehow developed into, well, whatever this is. I will never say never to writing more Spanksper outtakes. This one came to me over a year and a half since the last one, and who knows, maybe Edward will want to tell more of his side of the story.