The Build Up

Girls. Sex. Parties. Threesomes. Alcohol. Drugs. More sex. Bro's before ho's. That's their mantra. Also, anything goes this summer.

1.

"Who needs women, anyway?"

...

Edward threw back his shot with a triumphant 'whoop!' and slouched sideways against Emmett, obviously drunk off his ass. "Girl is deadly at this," he slurred slightly, gesturing to Irina.

"You're letting her win," Jasper pointed out, looking somewhat concerned.

Fucking party-pooper. Emmett didn't see why Edward had even bothered inviting him to his yearly summer rager. Sure, Jasper and Edward were tight, but Jasper was such a fucking drag at parties.

"Yup," Edward retorted happily enough. "Or maybe it's to let her get me drunk so she'll take advantage of me."

Emmett chuckled.

"Dream on," Irina retorted.

Fucking bitch. Like she didn't want it.

Edward tossed back another drink, and Emmett was distracted from his thoughts long enough to keep Edward from tumbling right over.

"Careful, Edward," the wet-blanket's even wetter-blanket girlfriend chimed in. "You know your girlfriend, Rosalie? Yeah, she's just sick not dead. Don't screw around."

And that was so fucking like Bella Swan, too. Edward was stuck all by his lonesome without any pussy to stick it to for the whole party, and they were all supposed to feel sorry for fucking Rosalie? Thankfully, Edward wasn't buying that bullshit tonight.

"Sick my ass!" Edward slammed the shot glass down on the table. "She's jerking me around." And then he giggled and slung one arm around Emmett's shoulders, before demanding of Jasper — "She look sick to you earlier?"

Jasper, fucking pussy-whipped like the rest of them, shrugged. And then he was macking on his vanilla little girlfriend, and they were fucking leaving for the night, and Emmett was willing to bet that Jasper wouldn't even get any snatch out of it. What a fucking tool.

It did mean that it was now just Edward, Emmett, and Irina, however. And two out of three wasn't bad…

Of course, fucking Irina had to be batting those eyelashes and placing her hand all coyly on Edward's thigh. She twirled her hair all innocent-like, but Emmett could see that she was just another slut. Unfortunately, Edward was just a bit too wasted to realize it.

"She does this to me all the time, you know," he said in that soft little voice of his that made him sound all sensitive. But Emmett knew that it was all just to get chicks to drop their panties faster. Edward Masen was a fucking master.

"Aww…" Irina tilted her head to one side and gave his knee a sympathetic little pat.

"Dude," Emmett chimed in, nudging Edward's shoulder in an attempt to pull his bro from the trance of maybe getting fucking laid. No response, of course. "C'mon, dude…"

But Edward was leaning in for the kill, and that slutty bitch was looking all smug that she'd finally caught herself some good cock for the evening, and…

Well, friends didn't let friends fall for sluts.

Emmett didn't know where he finally found the strength to pull Edward from his endless cycle of heartbreak, but he somehow got his arm around Edward's waist and hoisted him right off of the couch. "Look, man!" Emmett pointed out the window to the festivities on the lawn. "Wet t-shirt contest!"

That caught Edward's attention, and the two of them stumbled away from where Irina was looking all huffy. Whatever. It wasn't like there weren't plenty of guys to fuck that were in her league…the Pee-Wee League, that was.

"Heh. Pee-Wee League," Emmett chuckled to himself, as he and Edward made their way outside just in time to see Tanya gasp in horror as the hose was suddenly turned on her.

Edward giggled at Emmett's joke like he could see inside Emmett's head and knew why it was so damn funny. And then he let out a whoop when Mike finally turned the hose onto a pair of juniors, and Tanya Denali – soaked to the bone – was displayed fully before their eyes.

That fine white dress clung to her chest like Saran Wrap, letting the whole world see her big round tits. Clearly, the universe was smiling down on Emmett that night, because Tanya hadn't worn a bra. "Aw yeah, gimme some cheek," Emmett grinned and gave Tanya's behind a quick squeeze.

She shrieked and batted his hand away and stalked off, swearing up a storm. But it didn't matter because Edward was still leaning on Emmett, and his nose was just brushing Emmett's neck, and he was laughing his ass off.

"Dude, you are so wasted," Emmett laughed and led Edward off to the little grove by the far side of the pool. They collapsed on the bench there together, and Emmett held out the tequila bottle he'd procured along the way proudly.

"Fucking A," Edward agreed and wrapped his hand around Emmett's on the bottle, brought it to his lips, and swallowed deep.

Emmett watched the muscles in Edward's throat move as he swallowed, got a good whiff of the thick scent of alcohol and sweat.

"Who needs women, anyway?" Edward sighed, leaning back against the bench, shoulder brushing Emmett's lightly.

"A-fucking-men." Emmett imitated his position and took a swig.

"Fuck Rosalie Hale!" Edward announced to the world.

"Or don't fuck her!" Emmett retorted.

And Edward looked at him with that sparkle in his eye that he always reserved for Rosalie or Jasper or Bella or anyone else, and Emmett suddenly realized that Edward was actually seeing him. Emmett McCarty was finally in Edward's league, and Edward knew it, and…

"Don't fuck her, indeed." Edward's voice had turned quieter, more serious.

Emmett turned to look at him and found himself mesmerized by the dark, intense light in Edward's eyes, the way he looked just before he…

Edward – wasted off his ass – leaned in and pressed his lips hard against Emmett's, tongue slipping in to where it really shouldn't be on Emmett's surprised gasp. And, god, Edward really had to be out of it if he was pulling this shit, but Emmett didn't care because Edward's hands came up to catch his hair in place, and Edward's lips were slanting against his again and again and again.

...

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