So...it's Shell Shock's Birthday. And I luff her. So I've decided to slash it up to celebrate her birth. What else says, 'I'm so happy you were squeezed outta your momma', than some boy on boy lovin'?

"Hmmm, that feels so good," she moaned, making me gag. I tried to imagine anyone else but old Mrs. Cope on the table, but the way she was going on about the size and strength of my hands made it difficult to think of anything else.

I was going to kill Emmett.

I was a fucking aerobics instructor, not a massage therapist. But when Riley called in sick, they had no one else to cover his clients.

Enter me: Edward Cullen, all around jack of all trades.

Now I'm not gonna lie, it was hard always being perfect at everything I attempted, but someone had to do it. I really thought if I had more power, I might be able to fix everything that was wrong with the world.

But the only thing I had in my hands right now, was a shitton of backfat.

"Do you think you could work on my glutes?" Mrs. Cope asked as I worked my way down her back.

No, just…no.

Emmett was a dead man.

*()*()*

"Do you have any idea how disgusting it is to be wrist deep in old lady fat?"

Emmett laughed around his mouthful of tuna, bits of half-chewed food spraying all over the table.

"Dude, that's foul," I groaned as I used a napkin to wipe up his mess. I tried to hide my smile, but it was impossible around Emmett. The man was a walking ray of sunshine. You could have just found out your dog was shot or got wrecked by a car, and he'd make you laugh and forget why you were sad.

"No, it's hilarious. She totally was asking for a happy ending," Emmett choked, gasping as the wad of fish got stuck in his throat. I stifled a sigh as I walked around the table and wacked him on the back. The man seriously needed to stop talking and eating at the same time. I couldn't help but to leave my hand on his shoulder just a wee bit too long. Sue me. The man was built.

"Like I'd know what to do with a pussy," I spat, feeling the tips of my ears flush red. It was by an unspoken rule that I didn't talk about my hatred of the beave. I mean seriously, the thing looks like an alien's mouth.

"Aw man, you just gotta get your face in there and just go crazy," Emmett said, his eyes closing as he sat the remaining half of his sandwich down. It was much easier to look at him with those all-knowing eyes of his closed. We'd known each other for five years, ever since I started working at the spa, and I'd been in love with him for four years and three hundred days. Those first sixty-five days were spent getting to know him. As he led me around the facility those first few weeks, I slowly fell for him. He always had a smile for everyone we came in contact with. He was selfless and kind. And when I told him I was gay, he didn't bat an eye.

"It's all good, man. I don't give a fuck who you love."

I'd tried to keep my feelings to myself, though most of the staff knew I was head over heels for the big oaf. They all tried to set me up on blind dates or point out hot guys, but I couldn't do anything but pine away for my dream guy. I knew there would never be anything between us. Hell, just watching his face now as he imagined going down on a girl proved that. He loved women.

And so I was content to just watch and fantasize.

*()*()*

"Why would you book a private Pilates session when I've been doing massages all day? And you know this appointment will keep me here after we close. That means I have to lock everything up and escort the client out after. I hate doing that," I whined uncharacteristically. I was tired. I was horny. I was a fool. For some reason, watching Emmett today was like a knife in the heart. Although I loved my job, I was starting to think maybe I should think about finding another place to work.

It hurt too much.

"Don't yell at me, Edward. I cleared it with Emmett," Jess snarled, her fake nails curling into claws as she handed me the client's sheet. I stepped back, out of striking range as I looked over the paperwork. Great…sore hamstrings and tight glutes. If this chick tried to talk me into rubbing out her aching muscles, I was gonna scream.

*()*()*

Ten minutes later and I was waiting for the client to arrive. I had the mats all set out and the lights in the studio dimmed to a nice soft glow. My favorite soundscapes playlist was in and I was warmed up and ready to take my sexual tension out on this poor unsuspecting client.

"I'm ready."

I looked over my shoulder at the door, confused.

"Emmett? What the fuck are you doing? I have a client coming in any minute," I huffed. I didn't have the patience to deal with him. The more I was around him; the harder it was to keep my hands to myself. The thin sweats I was wearing were no protection against the sudden chubby I was sporting.

"I'm your client. My legs are tight and I need to work on my core strength," he said as he reached for the neck of his sweatshirt and yanked it up over his head, leaving him in a pair of low slung basketball shorts and nothing else.

Fuck me running.

"Dude, you have a fucking Master in Ex Phys, why would you need me to show you how to stretch?" I rasped, turning back around to the front of the room. It didn't help much because I could still see him in the mirror that ran along the front wall. I watched as Emmett walked over to the mats I had set out and sat down. He wasn't going to let this go. I was a professional. I could do this.

"Well, first we will start with The Hundred. Let's go."

I took him through the basic ten mat exercises before I attempted to challenge him a little bit. He needed his hamstrings stretched, and I was going to make it hurt.

"Now I want to work those hamstrings. We'll strengthen them first and then stretch out after," I said, pushing to my feet so I could better instruct him in the next exercise. He was sweating like crazy, his chest covered with a slick sheen. Even the mat below him was soaked.

"Bend your knees so your feet are flat on the ground. Good, now very slowly you are going to roll your pelvis back as you push into your feet so you are up in a bridge position." I watched Emmett move with a strange detachment. I was trying so hard to be professional.

"This feels weird. Am I doing it right?" Emmett grunted, his eyes closed as he tried to hold the pose. I used a critical eye as I looked over his form. His hips weren't tilted high enough, which meant he was putting too much stress on his low back and not carrying enough of the weight on his legs.

"Here," I said, stepping over him so I was straddling his body. I didn't think twice as I reached down and grabbed his hips, angling his pelvis so it was tilting up toward his face. Once I had his form right, I looked up at his face…

And froze.

"Emmett?" I whispered, wondering if I had pushed him too far. His features were twisted into an expression I'd never seen him wear before.

Pain.

"How do you stand it?" he asked, his voice thick and desperate. I cocked my head to the side as I gently pushed his hips down to the mat once more. I stumbled backward, ending up on my ass, our legs tangled together.

"Stand what?" I was totally confused.

"Fuck, Edward," he growled as he sat up. We were facing each other, our legs still intertwined. "Two days. I've been battling with my feelings for all of two days and I'm about to go crazy. How the hell did you do it for five years?"

As much as I tried, I couldn't figure out what the hell he was talking out. I opened and closed my mouth a few times, trying to comprehend his words. The only warning I got was his low growl before my face was enveloped in his huge hands.

And then…he was kissing me.

His lips were as soft and firm as they looked. The silky slide of his tongue against mine felt like I was coming home. And the moan that ripped from his chest when I hesitantly slipped my hands into his hair was soul shattering.

And then he stopped.

Emmett was panting like a maniac as he pulled away, his eyes closed tightly as he wrapped his arms around himself. I was left bereft, aching, wondering how I would ever get through the day without his mouth on mine now that I'd had a glimpse at what it would be like.

"I'm in love with you."

His confession floored me, and my response was automatic.

"No you are not."

Big blue eyes, sparkling with some unknown emotion met mine.

"Are you actually trying to tell me what I feel?" he gaped, his mouth curving up into the dimpled smile I loved so much.

"That's exactly what I'm telling you. You can't pretend to be something you're not. And I know you're not gay. Just this morning I watched you go into a 'girl coma' just thinking about going down on one. You're as hetero as they come, Emmett," I said.

"And you're an asshole. I was thinking about you this morning, not some random chick," he spat, swiftly untangling our legs so he could stand up. He towered over me, his nearly seven-foot frame making me feel small. The flimsy basketball shorts did nothing to hide the huge erection punching out from his hips. He started pacing around the small room, until he was over by the door. I thought for sure he would leave.

"It's you I want," he said quietly as he turned to face me.

As if he had planned it, the music faded away, until the only sound in the studio was our harsh breaths. The spa was empty by now, it was well past closing time. There would be no one barging in. There was no one to stop this.

"It's you I want," Emmett repeated fiercely, hooking his thumbs under the waistband of his shorts. I couldn't look away as he slowly pushed the fabric down his thighs and I'm pretty sure I moaned when his cock came into view. Thick and shiny with pre-cum, the head of his cock just barely peeking out past his foreskin.

My mouth watered.

"I don't understand," I rasped when he kicked the shorts aside and started striding toward me. He was so strong and powerful, his thighs ate up the distance like it was nothing.

"What's not to understand? I'm in love with you. I want you. I'm desperate for you," he growled, now right in front of me. I scrambled to my knees, trying to stand up, but he put his hands on my shoulders. I was kneeling in front of him, his cock right even with my mouth. I was pretty sure I was drooling.

"What changed?" I asked. It took a monumental effort to pull my eyes from his cock, but I needed to see the truth in his gaze.

"I pushed aside the fear and accepted the truth. You're it for me, Edward. You're my happily ever after."

His hands slowly slid up from their place on my shoulders, his fingers stroking along the sensitive spots on my throat before they tangled in my hair.

"Do it," he whispered, urging me forward.

It didn't take much.

With my eyes on his, I licked my lips, loving the way his breathing hitched. I leaned forward, leading with my tongue. The salty, bitter taste of him exploded on my taste buds and I was instantly addicted. My lips pulled and tugged along the smooth skin, the entire time I watched him. And there, as he stood naked and vulnerable in front of me, I saw the truth. He couldn't deny the throbbing arousal in my mouth or the way his heart thundered beneath his ribs.

He wanted me.

He loved me.

I let my hands wander up his legs, squeezing the hard muscles as I headed for his ass. Fuck, he was a perfect male specimen. While I wasn't a small guy, the way Emmett's body dwarfed mine made me feel safe and protected. I reached between us and cupped his balls, feeling him tremble. He wasn't going to last long, but it didn't matter. I knew getting a blow job from a guy was different than one from a chick. Guys knew what felt good. Guys knew just when to suck and just where to touch. And as I swallowed down everything he gave me, I couldn't wait to show him all the things I knew.

When Emmett's knees went weak, I pulled him down so we were lying down together on the now cold floor. I was painfully hard in my sweats, but the feel of his sated body on mine was enough.

For now…

The End? No, probably not. But there won't be a bunch and I have no idea when.

Shell...I love you. MOOSH!