Heyhey! I know, I know! I should be updating A Twin Thing and I'm working on that!

BUT this is something that was WAY more important! - The Birthday of the Incredible KGQ!

Happy birthday, babe! I hope we get to celebrate a lot more! :D

So this story is of course dedicated to KGQ, but there's some people I need to thank!

Firstly: James and Loopylou992 for giving me their opinions on this story while I was writing! And Harrytwifan for her amazing and speedy betaing, WHILE RECOVERING FROM SICKNESS PEOPLE! HOW AMAZING IS SHE?!

Disclaimer; You should all know it by now, but once again - I do not own Twilight!

May 1992, White Rock, Dallas

"Gran!" the boy shouted as he burst through my kitchen door. "Gran, can I go play with Edward?"

My five year old grandson looked up at me excitedly with his wide green eyes and hopped impatiently from one foot to the other. I smiled at him and picked up his little backpack from the floor.

"Jasper, darling, you know the rules," I said, not even remotely sounding as stern as needed. "Tea first, friends later!"

His little bottom lip curled into a pout and I quickly looked away. He had the Whitlock charm alright, same as his father. Once the rascal found out what it would get him, I would be in for some serious trouble.

Then again, maybe not. He did have sweet Charlotte's sense of calm and serenity instead of my son's reckless urge for adventure. Yes, on the inside he was exactly like his mother, though on the outside he was the spitting image of my son.

We would have our Tuesdays and Thursdays together, when Charlotte worked a double shift at the diner in town. I wish I could do more for them than watch over my grandson, but with money as it was, I had just enough to tie my own knots together.

It should have been different. Peter should've been there for them, but my senseless son got himself killed in a motorcycle accident four years ago, leaving them with next to nothing.

I turned back to the dinner table and saw Jasper climbing on one of the chairs. "Did you have fun at school?" I asked him, as I gave him a mug of tea and a chocolate chip cookie. He smiled widely, flashing his little dimples.

"Mrs Cullen said that my picture was the bestest she ever saw!" he cried out, and started to ramble on about the drawing he had made of the lake. So full of excitement, so full of joy. Charlotte did one hell of a job raising her boy as a single paren., I don't think I could've done it.

Once his tea was finished and the cookie devoured, he wobbled on the chair and shot me a hopeful smile. "Can I go play now?"

I reached over and wiped a chocolate smear from his cheek. "Sure, darling, go have fun," I answered him. He was out the door before I even finished my sentence.

The boy was positively in awe with the older boy next door. Edward Masen wasn't the luckiest boy in the world. Living alone with his drunk father, he had to mostly fetch for himself at age seven. It wasn't like his father was violent or abusive, though neglect is just as bad.

I thought long and hard whether I'd make a call to social services, but Edward loved his father and they needed each other more than anything. I'd make sure he was okay, though; bringing them dinner, helping with the laundry, and cleaning their house.

Edward's eyes were so old. They were not the eyes of a boy his age, and it broke my heart. But with Jasper he lit up like the brightest sun over Texas. He adored my grandson, and when they were together, it was as if the rest of the world ceased to exist.

I stepped out on the porch and watched them sit on the steps to the garden.

"You are my bestest friend in the world!" Jasper cried out as he threw his arm over his friend's shoulder.

Edward's hand reached up and his little fingers curled at the back of Jasper's neck. "Best," he softly corrected my grandson. "Not bestest. And so are you, Jasper. You'll always be my very best friend."

October 1996, White Rock, Dallas

I heard the door slam as I got the laundry out of the machine, and I lifted the basket to my hip before making my way to the kitchen. My heart made a painful jolt when I saw my boy sitting at the kitchen table. He was still wearing his little blue jacket and his bag was sprawled over the table. The thing that hit me most was the look on his pretty face. His otherwise sparkling eyes were dark and sad as he stared down at his hands. Tears were making them shimmer in the bright October sun that peered through the window.

I quickly sat down my basket and hurried over to him. "What is it, darling?" I asked, sounding more worried than I intended to.

He shrugged his shoulder and turned his face away from me. I wrapped my hands around his tiny frame and gave him a warm hug. "Won't you tell your Gran what's making you so sad?"

He looked back up at me, his bottom lip trembling and a heartbreaking tear falling down his cheek. "E-Edward hates me," he sobbed, and I started shaking my head.

That boy didn't hate my grandson––not in a million years. Thick as thieves they were. They might be fighting, but it would lighten up in a matter of days, if not hours.

I squatted down next to the chair as best as I could and took his little hands into mine. "What happened, darling?" I asked quietly.

"I-I don't know!" he cried out. "We were p-playing and th-then a girl from his school joined us a-and then h-h-he was mad at m-me!"

"Now, Jasper, he didn't just get angry with you, now did he?" I asked.

He bowed his head a little, his dark hair framing his face and hiding his eyes from my sight. "No," he reluctantly said. "But I-I don't know why what I said w-was wrong."

"What did you say, honey?" I pushed him a little.

"That g-girl said she wanted to m-marry Edward when she grew up, but I-I didn't like that," he cried. "I w-want to marry him! S-so I told her!"

He took a deep breath and clenched his fists. "Th-the g-girl was l-laughing at me and h-h-he pushed me. And then h-he said he h-hated me, so I ran away."

"Oh, Darling," I said, running my hand through his hair. "Boys marry girls when they grow up, because they love them. When you grow up, you might meet a nice girl and fall in love with her, and then you'll want to marry her."

"No!" he yelled, the defiance I remembered in his father's eyes clear in his intense gaze. "I want to marry Edward! I love Edward!"

I kissed his frowning forehead and took his hands again. "That's a different kind of love, darling. I know you love Edward, and he loves you, but you two are friends. When you marry, it's with someone you want to kiss with."

His face crumpled up in disgust. "Eww, Grandma, that's gross!"

I chuckled and patted his cheek. "See? Now help me wash the vegetables, dear. Edward will come around. You'll be running around the lake again in no time!"

The tiny smile forming on his face lightened up my small kitchen. All was right in the world again.

March 2002, White Rock, Dallas

I was peeling potatoes when the doorbell rang. Jasper peeked up from under his long dark hair and looked at me. The black shiner around his eye still made me silently gasp, but he wouldn't tell me how he got it. My grandson wasn't much of a fighter, so I guessed he was suffering in silence, not wanting his momma or me to be worried. It wasn't working one bit, though; I was worried all the same.

"Don't worry, dear, I'll get it," I said. "You keep working on those equations."

Recently, Saturday was added to our twice a week get togethers. Charlotte opened her own diner, and the boy needed a place quieter than the Saturday afternoon rush to do his homework.

I opened the door, surprised to find Edward on the other side of it, looking apologetic as he held up a stack of books.

"Can I work here for a while, Nana Whitlock? Dad is really loud," he explained and I threw him a smile.

I really loved the boy like he was family. Maybe by now, for all intents and purposes he was. It still hurt my heart that the boys weren't friends anymore. The girl told the other kids in school what my Jasper had said, and they started bullying Edward for being gay. He never really forgave my grandson for what he said in his nine year old naivety.

They now went to the same high school, but things hadn't changed for the better. I was just happy that Jasper was doing so well. He was smiling, had a few good friends, and never hung his head. His school grades were high as well, so apart from the scratches and bruises he came home with every once in a while, he was doing great.

Edward, on the other hand, wasn't doing as well. Whenever I saw him he looked sad, troubled. I often had the feeling he was hiding something, like his life had become a charade. Of course, that might just be the fact that his father was a drunk and that they had next to no money. I wouldn't have wanted the entire world to know about that either.

"Of course you can, dear," I told him, and a smile curled his lips for a moment. "Jasper is doing his homework in the kitchen with me. Come on in, I'll get you a glass of iced tea."

He tensed up and hesitated for a moment, but I led him inside the house with my hand on his shoulder, not giving him a chance to back out. When we entered the kitchen, Jasper looked up. Edward tensed even more. When I looked at him, I saw a guilty look slide over his handsome features.

Eying Jasper from the corner of my eyes, I saw his mouth turn into a tight line and he immediately turned his attention back to his calculus books.

I looked from one boy to the other a couple of times before letting out a deep sigh. Such a shame; they had been such good friends.

"Sit down, Edward," I said, making my way to the fridge.

He stood there shifting his feet and biting his lip. "Maybe I should just go home," he said, and already turned to head back out.

"Nonsense!" I answered with a sturdy look. "Sit down and get your nose in those books."

Once both of them had fresh drinks, I sat down and got back to my potatoes. I couldn't help but notice the two of them chancing peeks at each other across the table while the other wasn't looking. There was still something there, I knew there was, but I had no idea how I could get those boys to see it. Such a shame.

April 4th 2012, White Rock, Dallas

I stared at myself in the mirror and took a deep breath. I didn't understand. How could she not have told me she was sick? Nana had always been a strong woman; fit like a forty year old, while I knew she was eighty-one. She hadn't told me, nor my momma, that she was dying, until I found her on the floor of her house two weeks ago.

Idiopathic Pulmonary Fibrosis, the doctor had said. He explained how some sort of collagen was forming in her lungs or something, but the long and short of it was that her lungs were failing.

Her condition was so advanced, she would have already been in serious pain, having shortness of breath and feeling tired all the time.

"Oh, darling, don't worry. I'm just a bit under the weather," I could still hear her say whenever I commented on her nasty cough and tried to get her to go see a doctor. She'd already seen a doctor; there was no cure.

"Fuck!" I yelled, slamming my fist down on the sink.

She never woke up again and died a little over a week ago.

And now I was about to go through her things, sort them out, and decide what to do with everything. Not alone––no, I was going to have to do this together with Edward.

She left the house and everything in it to the both of us, which wasn't strange. Edward had been her grandson as much as I had been ever since she moved here. That hadn't changed when he abruptly cut me out of his life and turned on me. I couldn't blame her, though I didn't like having to spend that much time with him.

I hadn't seen him for almost two years now, but he'd never been far from my mind. Pathetic really, to be in love with the one guy who wanted absolutely nothing to do with you. Not that it stopped me from living my life.

No, my Momma and Grandma taught me that life wasn't black and white. You got your share of light and darkness, and it was your own responsibility to lift your head and catch the brightest rays. They always had, and that's what I tried to do. I was happy, loved and young. What more could I wish for?

I came out while I was still in high school. It wasn't like they didn't already know I was gay, though telling my mom and Nana was hard at first. Momma pulled me into a hug and said she loved me and supported me. Nana, well, she was a little flabbergasted. Having been taught herself that boys married girls, like she had told me when I was a kid, she never really thought about the possibility of me being gay.

Once the news sunk in and she got used to the idea, she was all proud and supporting. She even stuck a sticker to her door, saying; 'I'm proud of my Grandson' in all the colors of the rainbow. It was still there. The colors had faded in the bright sun, the words barely readable, but there.

I sighed once more and opened the bathroom door into the bright diner. My mother was standing behind the counter holding two plates of food. "Jasper, darling," she called out. "Would you bring these to table four?"

I delivered the food and made my way back to my mother. "I'm off," I told her, and leaned over the counter to peck her on her cheek.

She looked at me with a worried frown. "Will you be okay? I could go with you," she said, already starting to remove her apron.

"No, Mom. I need to do this and you have customers," I answered, making sure my smile was reassuring. I was so proud of my momma. She raised me on her own and still managed to make her dreams come true. Well, most of them. I don't think her dream involved being widowed with a small child, but she never gave up on life.

I knew she was hurting over Nana, same as I was, and I promised to have breakfast with her tomorrow morning before I left.

I drove my car to the lake and parked it next to Nana's house, taking a few deep breaths before getting out and walking to the kitchen door. I pulled out my keys, prepared to open the lock, when the door swung open.

There he was; tall, lean and gorgeous. Edward Anthony Masen, my once best friend, turned bully, turned complete stranger. My stomach coiled and I swallowed back the lump in my throat before I averted my gaze.

"Hey," I said, waiting until he would step aside and let me in. He didn't. He just stood there, gawking at me, seemingly lost for words.

"You gonna let me in?" I asked, shifting my weight to my other leg and crossing my arms across my chest without looking at him.

"Uhm, yes, of course," he mumbled and stepped aside just far enough to let me through. I brushed past him and sat down in my regular chair at the kitchen table. He didn't move for the longest time, but finally turned around to face me.

"I made some iced tea, you want some?" he asked me, and I nodded in response.

He poured the both of us a large glass and sat one in front of me. When I closed my eyes and took a sip, my heart wrenched at the senses overwhelming me. Same taste, same warmth of sun peering through the windows, and even the same smell still lingered. It was as if I was fifteen years old again, doing my homework, sipping my iced tea as she prepared dinner.

"It's weird, right?" Edward asked. I snapped my eyes open, instantly pulled from my memory. I looked at him questioningly and he shrugged.

"It's like she'll walk through that door any second now, scolding me for not having given her a proper hug," he explained, and looked down at the glass between his hands. Then it hit me. Weird, really, that it had never crossed my mind before now. Edward loved my nana the same way I did. She was just as much his grandmother as she had been mine.

Almost instinctively, I reached out my hand to lay it on his wrist, before realizing what I was doing and quickly pulled back. Whatever we had been in the past, it was gone now, and it had been gone for a long time.

I didn't know what to do with myself, or what to say to him, so I decided to concentrate on what we were here for. "I suggest you start downstairs and I start with Gran's bedroom," I said, searching his face for any reaction.

"Jasper, I-," he said, but closed his mouth before finishing whatever he wanted to say. The look in his eyes was one I'd seen time and time again in school; one I never managed to figure out. It seemed like pain, hate and guilt all rolled into one. If I only knew why he hated me so much, what I had done to earn such treatment. I remember asking myself the same questions over ten years ago.

"Fag," James snarled at me as he pushed me against the wall. My eyes met Edward's and he quickly looked away. Alec chuckled and his fist connected with my lower back, making my spine curve from the pain. I bit back a groan and braced myself for another hit. James hit me square in the jaw, which made my head hit the wall with a painful thud.

I breathed heavily through my teeth. 'Stay calm, Jasper, no need to work yourself up over this. It's just pain, it'll be over soon if you just don't fight it,' I told myself.

"Come on, Ed," Alec called to his friend. "What are you standing around for? Are you a little faggot like Jasper here?"

I squeezed my eyes shut and braced myself for what I knew was coming. At one time our past friendship would've stopped him, but Edward didn't like people thinking he was gay. It brought out the worst in him and he always turned it on me.

One punch, he'd only land one punch, but it was always the one that hurt the most. Not because he hit me very hard, not at all. It was the fact that it was him who hit me that made me want to curl in on myself. I loved him, I always had. I don't really know when the admiration I had for my childhood friend turned into something more, but the truth of it was, that I wanted to kiss him, hold him and always keep him close. Yes, I'd known when I was nine, and I still knew it now, I wanted to marry him.

After they left, I made my way to the bathrooms and checked the bruise already forming on my face in the mirror. Why did they have to hit me in the face? There was no way my momma and Gran wouldn't notice, but there was no way on earth I would tell them what was going on. Two more years... I could take this another two years.

When I made my way to my car, I passed Edward in the hallway. I'd almost think he had been waiting for me, but that was just my silly imagination.

"Jasper, I-," he started with a strange look on his face, but got interrupted.

"Edward! Come on!" Alec called out, James standing by his side, his eyes narrowed as he watched us.

"Stay away from me, fag," Edward said and pushed me away roughly. I could cry.

His empty glass hitting the table brought me back to reality and I jumped slightly in my chair. "Alright then, let's get this over with," I said and stood up. I didn't look back as I left the kitchen and made my way up the stairs.

It was two hours later when I heard footsteps on the stairs. I didn't turn around when I heard him open the door, but grabbed a stack of old pictures. Pictures of us. I tossed them on the bed and tried to not sound like I had been staring at them for the past half hour.

"You want those?" I asked him, still not turning around. I heard him place something on the little desk and sit down on the bed. I held my breath and hoped to God that he'd want them, that he wanted something to remember our friendship.

"No," he said and stood up again. "I brought you some tea."

I swallowed back another lump and stood up to face him, nodding my thanks. I took the pictures and tossed them in the bin, making a mental note to take them out again when Edward wasn't there.

A flash of hurt passed through his eyes. He sat down in the chair by the desk, picking up a plate and handing it to me. "I also made some sandwiches. Hungry?" he asked and I took one, my eyes not leaving his.

He looked down at the plate and picked at the remaining sandwich before he looked back up at me. "You look good, Jasper," he said softly, and I repressed a huff.

"Don't be ridiculous," I replied. "I haven't slept in a week and I've been crying my eyes out."

"No, that's not what I meant," he said. "In general. I know the last weeks must have been hard on you, but overall you look good, happy."

He took a bite and picked up a glass of iced tea. I just stood there staring at him. What the hell was that about?

"I am," I said with a little more vigor than I felt. Sure, I was doing well, and I was happy. Still, something was missing. Or someone.

"Right," he said when I finished my sandwich and turned back to the closet I was working through. "I'll leave you to it then."

"Yeah," I replied, feeling awkward. "Thanks for the food and drink, Edward."

"Sure," he said, and left with the tray.

As soon as I heard him on the stairs, I got up and picked up the bin. The pictures were gone.

Feeling even more confused, I finished the bedroom and moved to my old room, or the room I slept in whenever I'd spend the night here. We'd never be able to clear everything in one day. Of course, I hadn't expected us to, but I silently wondered how I could go through another day like this.

The day crawled by slowly, and by dinner time I wanted nothing more than to crawl into nana's bed and cry. I already missed her so much. Instead, I forced myself downstairs to go and find Edward. He wasn't in the living room, nor the laundry room or the kitchen.

When I looked through the kitchen window, I saw him sitting on the top of the little stairs to the garden, the stack of pictures in his hands. I didn't understand why I would feel so happy about that.

I opened the door and watched him from the doorway, as his shoulders straightened and he realized I caught him.

"I couldn't just throw them out," he said defensively. "Remember this?"

I reached out and took the picture from him, sitting down on the stairs next to him, but making sure there was enough distance between us.

The picture he showed me brought a smile to my face. He was about eight, I was about six, and we were sitting in front of a tent, smiling brightly. For three weeks we'd nagged and pleaded for Grandma to allow us to sleep in the garden in that tent, and she finally gave in.

We'd spent the entire day making sure we had everything we'd need in there, but there were certain things you couldn't take with you. In the middle of the night, Edward woke me up, his face crunched and uncomfortable.

"Jasper!" he whisper yelled as I rubbed the sleep from my eyes. "Jasper, I need to go!"

"No you don't," I said. "Your dad said you could stay over!"

"Noohooo!" he said with more force behind his words. "I mean I need to go! To the bathroom!"

I was confused. Why did I need to wake up for that? "Then go," I said. "The kitchen door is open."

Edward bit his bottom lip and ran his hand through his hair. "You have to come with me!" he said, and I frowned.

"Why?" I asked him. I really didn't want to leave the tent and the warm blankets I was under.

"BecauseI'mafraid," he mumbled, and I didn't understand what he said.

"What?" I pushed, and he dropped his gaze.

More slowly, but a lot softer, he repeated his words. "Because I'm scared."

"Oh, okay," I said, and threw the blankets off me, opening the zipper of the little tent and stepping out. Edward get out as well and grabbed my hand tightly. Together we made our way up the stairs, and I waited in the kitchen as Edward went to the bathroom.

Once we were back in the tent, we crawled under the same blanket and he turned to his side, facing me.

"Thanks," he said, and I smiled through a yawn. "Thanks for not saying anything, about me being scared. For not teasing me."

Another yawn drawled out my lazy response. "Why would I tease you," I said. "You're my best friend."

"Good times," I said, and gave him back the picture.

He took it and brushed his thumb over it, turning his head toward me a little without letting it go with his eyes. "Yeah," he said.

I leaned against the railing and let my eyes wander over the lake. I would miss this place when we sold it. I'd spent the best years of my life here, but with my apartment in the city, I couldn't afford to buy Edward out.

"You were never scared of anything," he said, and I furrowed my brow when I looked at him.

"Sure I was," I replied. "I was scared of loads of things, but with you there, it wasn't so bad."

His eyes widened at my explanation and his mouth slightly opened. Then that same look returned to his face. "Jasper, I'm really sorry," he said. I quickly looked away.

Within a second, I was up on my feet, making my way to the kitchen door. "Chinese?" I asked, but didn't wait for a response.

He didn't come back inside. When I came back from answering the door to the delivery guy, he was sitting at the table.

"Jasper," he started, but I blatantly ignored him. I didn't want to hear any excuses; I didn't want his apology. I didn't know what I wanted from him, but not that. No empty words set on by my grandmother dying.

"I ordered a bunch of different things, I wasn't sure what you would like," I said a little harshly and sat down in my chair.

He didn't say anything, so I picked a pair of chopsticks from the bag and took out one of the cartons, not really caring what was inside. His stare as I started to eat made me feel uncomfortable, and I snapped.

"What?" I growled, and took in his startled expression when I glared at him angrily.

He averted his eyes and picked up a carton and a pair of chopsticks himself, but didn't eat. At least he wasn't staring at me anymore, so I returned my focus on my food.

"Jasper, I meant what I said out there," he started. I let out an annoyed sigh. "I'm really so-"

"Look," I cut him off. "You don't have to do this, okay? I get it, Nana died and going through all this stuff brought out some weird sense of nostalgia, but I don't need your apology. I'm over it, so just drop it, okay? Let's just get this done, and afterwards you can go back to hating me."

"You think I was apologizing because of Nana Whitlock?" he asked. His voice sounded so resigned, so broken, that I couldn't help but look up. The look on his face was even worse; he looked like a guy who was bent under the weight of the world.

"Weren't you?" I asked, an unfamiliar feeling fluttering through my chest. Hopeful that he'd say no.

"Fuck, Jasper! No!" he exclaimed. "Jesus! I was an ass okay? I was scared and stupid and I fucked up the best thing I had because of it."

He stood up and made his way to the kitchen counter, leaning his hands on the white surface. He stared out the window for a moment, while I tried to come up with something to say.

"I'm sorry," he said while turning back to me. "For pushing you away, for not standing up for you against those assholes in school."

He walked back to the table and squatted next to me. "I'm sorry, Jasper, for not being brave enough to be your friend."

I didn't know what to say, I really didn't. So I just picked with my chopsticks through my food, hoping that this moment would just pass.

His hand softly brushed my arm and he got up. "I'm sorry for hurting you," he said, slowly moving back to his chair.

"As I said, I'm over it," I replied, emotions seeping through in my voice. In all honestly, I hadn't gotten over it. His apology––his sincere apology––meant more to me than I'd ever want him to know.

We sat in silence as I tried to force some food down my throat, but after twenty minutes I gave up. Putting the carton back on the table, I shifted in my seat.

"So, when do you plan on heading home?" I asked him. "I'm gonna spend the night, though I promised my mom I'd join her for breakfast. I could bring you back something from the diner? I could be here around ten?"

"I was actually planning on spending the night as well," he said. "I don't really feel like driving all the way back to the city."

I cocked an eyebrow. I really didn't want to spend the night under the same roof. "Can't you sleep at your dad's place?" I asked, and his face turned even more grave than it already was.

"He died last year," he answered, barely audible.

Fuck, I didn't know that.

"I'm sorry," I tried, but his cold stare shut me up.

"I'm over it," he said, stood up, and made his way to the living room.

April 4th 2012, White Rock, Dallas

I slumped down on the couch and listened to the sounds of Jasper moving around the kitchen, cringing when I heard the cupboards being slammed shut. I royally messed up. How could I even think that a couple of words, however well meant and heartfelt, would fix our friendship? And it wasn't even a friendship I was trying to restore.

Funny how the only two people I ever told were now dead. No, not funny, tragic really. It had taken me ten years to come to terms with myself, five more to gather the courage to tell my father, and another to tell Nana.

And now, after she died, I was firmly shut back into the closet. Not like I ever really came out; I just opened the door a little. It was as much why I hated Jasper, as why I loved him with all my heart.

It all came so easily to him. Never scared or worried about what others might think, never trying to live up to what other people expected of him, nor trying to rise above.

Not like me.

Everyone always thought I would turn out like my dad; a deadbeat drunk who didn't care about anyone. They were wrong, about both me and my father. He wasn't a deadbeat drunk; he had just been heartbroken when my mother left us and he wasn't strong enough to fight it. And not a single person, no one who ever knew him, would dare to say he didn't care. He cared about me, he loved me, and I still missed him.

I'd never been so alone in my life. I had a good job, a nice place to live, and to the outside world my life was fine. But it was empty. I was scared to let anyone in, afraid they would ridicule me like everyone else always had. Everyone but my dad and Nana Whitlock.

And Jasper.

Damn it, he did look good. And I was happy for him, I really was. The man deserved to be happy and he didn't owe me shit. For everything that happened, I was the one that owed him.

I was a coward, a frightened little boy who was too intent on proving himself, that he took it out on his best friend. The one boy who had everything I ever wanted. Confidence, grace and the incredible ability to bounce back from anything. With the way he was bullied in school by my so-called friends and me, you would never have thought he'd be able to show up every day smiling.

I'd see him and want to kiss him and punch him. So proud of him and so jealous at the same time.

I'd feel so guilty every time I let Alec and James talk me into helping them beat him up. All they had to do was speculate at my sexuality and I'd cower into whatever they wanted me to do. I knew what would happen if they found out. I'd be right next to Jasper, getting punched in the gut and being called names. I didn't want that.

Of course, I found out later that wouldn't have happened. The year after I graduated, Nana told me that Jasper had gotten into trouble at school. Four years of bullying and being beaten up, and Jasper had never lifted a finger to defend himself, but when he saw his friend Seth being attacked by my former friends, he fought back.

One against three, and he had won.

Nana had been appalled, and told me Jasper reluctantly admitted to being the victim of their attacks over the last few years, and my heart had beaten heavily in my chest. But she hadn't known. I don't know why, but he never told her I had been one of them.

I never really understood Jasper. Not when we were kids, not when we were older, and not now. He had this air of innocence over him, like he didn't realize the world around him was different. Like he didn't realize that he was better than the rest of us, because he was.

He didn't tease me when we were kids, though he had every opportunity to. He never used his knowledge of my deepest secrets against me when he had the chance. Not even when I kicked him, or shoved him, or called him names. It was like it never even occurred to him that he could.

He was like the sun, shining brightly on everyone he met. It was why James and Alec picked him out; I was sure of that now. Guys like them didn't like people who were naturally happy, people who kept smiling after you pushed them to the ground, people who would get back up and shrugged it off like it didn't mean anything.

He was over it, he was over me, and it was about time I let him go.

Easier said than done, as all I wanted to do was kiss him and admit that I had feelings for him. I thought that those feelings had disappeared over the last few years, but as soon as I opened the kitchen door this afternoon, I knew I'd been lying to myself. He was a part of me and he always would be.

I hadn't noticed him come in until he spoke. "Would you be okay with sleeping in Nana's room?" he asked.

'Come on! Will you just fucking look at me?' I thought, but he didn't.

"Not really," I answered truthfully. That was her room, her private room. I didn't belong there.

"Okay, you sleep in the guest room then," he said, before going up the stairs. I watched him, continuing to stare after him long after he was out of sight.

It was nearing ten and I was kind of exhausted, so I picked up my bag from my car and went upstairs. He was sitting on Nana's bed when I popped my head around the corner. "Jasper? I think I'll head in early tonight," I said, but he didn't even acknowledge my presence and that hurt. "I'll see you tomorrow. Good night."

He didn't move nor look up, so I turned back to the hallway.

"Good night, Edward," I heard him whisper, and I paused my step. Shaking my head and sighing deeply, I went into the guest room, and closed the door behind me.

Four hours later I was still awake. The room was pitch black, and each time I closed my eyes, they'd shoot back open, thinking I heard something. It was ridiculous, I knew that, but I couldn't help myself.

At home, I slept with the curtains open, the city lighting up my room enough to be comfortable. But White Rock was quiet and dark at night.

I gave up, and decided I'd go down for a cup of tea. I turned on the lights, making my way to the door. As soon as I opened it, I rushed to flip the switch and the hallway lit up brightly. Luckily, the door to Nana's room was closed, so I wouldn't wake up Jasper with the light. I turned off the lights in the guest room and closed the door as quickly as possible.

Going down the stairs was okay; the lights from the upstairs hallway were bright enough to let me see the entire living room. I made my way to the light switch without peeing my pants and turned them on.

When I crossed the room to the hallway, I almost jumped to the ceiling.

"Hey, you can't sleep?" he asked. I spun around as fast as I could.

"Holy mother of Christ!" I screamed, and rubbed my arms to get rid of the tiny goosebumps rising all over my body. Fucking hell, I almost had a heart attack!

"Sorry I startled you," he said, half rising from the couch and stretching his arms above his head. The blanket he was under dropped and he wasn't wearing a shirt. His bare chest was toned, and the dark hairs that dusted his stomach formed a tight line that disappeared under the waistband of his boxers. My mouth turned dry as a desert and I quickly looked away.

"I was just going for a cup of tea," I said, my voice shill slightly shaken. "You want some?"

"Sure," he said, getting up while pulling a sweater over his head. Thankfully!

He walked past me to the kitchen, still in his boxers, and turned on the lights before filling the electric kettle with water and sitting down at the table.

"Why are you sleeping on the couch?" I asked, sitting down across from him.

"Didn't really feel comfortable in her room," he answered. I gave him a silent nod.

When the kettle clicked, I got up and made us both a cup of tea.

"Why were you still up?" he asked me when I placed his mug in front of him, and I blushed.

"It's too dark," I whispered, but I was sure he heard me. However, he didn't comment on it and I was thankful for that. I never understood why I was so fucking scared of the darkness. I was a grown man for God's sake!

I sipped my tea, feeling comfortable and awkward at the same time. I wanted to say something, but I didn't have a clue what I could say. I apologized, but it hadn't changed anything. I just had here and now to make a difference between us. Once the house was sold, I would never see him again. Nana had been the last link between us. Now that she was gone, I'd never sit with her and listen to stories about what Jasper was up to. That knowledge tore at my heart.

I wanted him in my life, even if it was just every once in awhile. I knew I should let him go, but I couldn't. I had to explain, I needed him to forgive me. I needed him to care.

"I was jealous," I said softly.

His eyes widened and he almost dropped the mug in his hands. "Jealous? Whatever were you jealous of?" he asked incredulously.

"You were just you," I said. "You didn't give a rat's ass about what other people thought about you. You were always so proud of who you were. Even when-"

I inhaled deeply and let it out in a stuttering breath. "Even when we bullied you, you always walked away with your head held high. I tried to hate you, because you could do what I couldn't back then, but it never worked. I always looked up to you."

I sat back in my chair, cringing inside from the words I just said. 'Fucking coward,' I thought. 'You still can't do what he does, you're still hiding.'

"Edward, what are you talking about?" he asked me. "You talk like I'm Superman or something! Of course I cared, of course it hurt! I'm not unbreakable! Just because I didn't give them the satisfaction of my tears, doesn't mean I didn't cry!"

"Y-you did?" I asked, knowing how stupid I sounded.

He sighed and shook his head. "Yes, I did, but I got over it. They were just a couple of stupid assholes whom I didn't give a fuck about. They hurt me, they kicked me and punched me, but at the end of the day it was just bruises."

I knew there was something he wasn't telling me, and it was something to do with me.

"You keep saying 'them', like I wasn't a part of it," I said, bracing myself.

"Well, you weren't," he said, closing his eyes for a moment. "What you did hurt a hell of alot more."

I knew that was the end of it. There was no apology that could make up for my betrayal. I tried anyway.

"Fuck, I'm sorry, Jasper," I pleaded. "If I could go back and change it, I would..."

"Stop apologizing!" he said, but I didn't stop.

"...I would tell them to leave you alone..."

"Stop, Edward. It wasn't what you did to me," he tried again.

"...I'd tell them that if they wanted to beat you up for it, they'd have to go through me. I'd go back and tell them I was gay, too!" My voice was breaking, but I didn't care. I needed him to believe me.

"Edward, will you just shut up for a minute?" he yelled. I was knocked back into silence.

"It didn't hurt because you hit me, it hurt because I could see how unhappy it made y-" he said, stopping mid- sentence.

"Wait," he continued with a frown. "Did you just say you were gay?"

I couldn't find my voice, so I just nodded, looking slightly embarrassed.

"Wow," he just said, bringing his mug to his lips and taking a sip.

"Wow," he repeated. "That's eh, not what I expected."

"Well," I chuckled darkly. "That was kind of the point, hiding it and all."

"Why would you hide something like that?" he asked and I glared at him. Was he serious? After all the crap people gave him? He was asking me why I wasn't out and proud?

"Ed," he said. "Even with everything I know now, I wouldn't want to go back and deny myself for all the money in the world. I wouldn't try and hide who I am so that other people will accept me."

"See?" I replied. "That's what I'm talking about. You don't give a fuck about what they think!"

"Oh, I give a fuck," he said. "I give a fuck when I do something that hurts someone else, and I give a fuck when I do something wrong. I care about what people will think of me, and I try to be the best person I can possibly be. But no, I don't give a fuck when people choose to hate me for something I can't control. You shouldn't either."

"I can't live up to their standards like you, Jasper," I said. I knew I was sounding pathetic, but what else could I say?

"I don't live up to anyone's standard but my own," he replied, and leaned back in his chair.

"Why won't you forgive me?" I whispered.

"I already did, years ago," he answered. "Why won't you forgive yourself?"

I was surprised, both by his answer and his question, and I didn't have a clue what to tell him. He'd laugh in my face if I told him the truth, if I told him I loved him, was in love with him and had been for as long as I could remember.

Then again, I didn't have a single thing to lose and everything to gain. Maybe he would laugh, but I didn't think he would. He had never made fun of me, ever.

I took a deep breath and looked him straight in his eyes. "Because I pushed away the one person I could see myself spending the rest of my life with."

He stared right back at me, his face unreadable, and I could feel all my hopes fade away. I'd gone too far. He didn't want me, he never would.

"Don't make fun of me, Edward," he hissed, his anger clear in his voice. "Not now."

"What? No! I'm not making fun, I swear!" I quickly said, confused why he would even think that.

He kept staring, his face crunched like he was trying to figure out if I was telling the truth. I had to prove it to him, if it was the last thing I did.

"I swear on my life, on my father and on Nana Whitlock, that I'm not making fun of you. I'm in love with you and have been for a very, very long time," I said slowly, making sure he heard every single word.

Like night turning into day, a smile formed on his lips, and as I saw the sparkle return to his eyes, his dimples flashed. I had to admit that it literally took my breath away.

"Jasper?" I asked, sounding desperate. "Please say something?"

He got up from his chair and closed the distance between us. He took my face in both hands, running his thumbs over my cheekbones before he leaned in and kissed me.

It was the best kiss I ever had, and that wasn't just because all my other kisses had been with girls. I was convinced that if I kissed everyone on this planet, this kiss would still beat all the rest by a longshot.

I wrapped my arms around his waist and pulled him into my lap, planning on never letting him go. He slid one arm behind my shoulder and ran the other one through my hair. His warmth, his mouth, his hands, every single part of him made my body sing, and I moaned against his mouth.

He lazily ran his tongue over my bottom lip, and I opened up to grant him entrance. He tasted like tea and spices as our tongues danced around each other in a game of dominance.

He pulled away too quickly.I found myself leaning forward with my eyes still closed, panting silently into the night. His breath still dusting my face, warm and a little moist.

When I opened my eyes, I stared right into his wide green ones. They were a lot brighter than I remembered, beautiful and smiling. God, he was smiling with an intensity that could eclipse the sun. He hadn't smiled at me like that in sixteen years.

I wondered if I was still back in bed; if I had fallen asleep and this was all just a dream. But if it was a dream, it had to be the best fucking dream I had in my entire life and I didn't want to ever wake up.

I struggled a little when he tried to stand up from my lap, but his slight chuckle made me let him go. Instead of walking away, he merely shifted his weight and straddled my thighs.

"God, Edward," he whispered against the shell of my ear. "Please tell me this isn't a dream! Please tell me this is real, because I don't think I would be able to handle it if I woke up now."

He covered my face in light kisses, wringing his hands through my wayward locks, pulling me closer. I gasped as I grabbed his hips, and dug my fingers in roughly. I worried for a moment if I was hurting him, but he moaned and grinded his erection against mine.

Oh my holy fuck! The feeling of his hard cock causing friction against my overly excited one was so fucking good! Never before had I felt this, never before had I had a strong toned chest against my own. I got it now; this was what all the fuss was about! This was why people had sex; the want, no, the need to crawl inside someone else. More than anything in the world I wanted this man to be even closer!

I slid both my hands through his dark hair and kissed him. It was desperate and needy and all devouring, wanting to let him know that this was real, wanting to believe that this wasn't a dream.

He was still tugging at my hair, grinding up against me, opening his mouth to let me in. I let my tongue explore him as I fought him for dominance. He tasted like tea and sunlight, pouring away all the darkness from my soul. I found the place where I belonged; with him I came home.

Only when I thought I'd pass out from lack of oxygen did I pull back, taking a deep breath. He attacked my neck right away, kissing open mouthed, biting, teasing. I thought I was slowly and surely losing my mind, but hell if I cared. I'd gladly lose it to Jasper.

His grinding became more frantic and I could feel myself involuntarily bucking back up against him. Our chests pressed up against each other's and I cursed at the fabric still between us.

Without giving it a second thought, I grabbed the hem of his sweater and pulled it over his head. He only let go of my hair to remove my own T-shirt and throw it to the floor.

I ran my hands down his strong back and dug my fingers into the skin at his waist, dipping my head to suck at his Adam's apple. His groan resonated through his throat, causing my lips to tingle on his skin. I could feel the coil building in my groin, knowing my orgasm wasn't far off.

With my tongue, I made my way down to his chest, grazing my teeth over his hard nipple lightly and closing my lips around it. He pressed my head to him more firmly, and when I sucked the nub further into my mouth, he bucked, cried out my name, and came.

"Fuck, Jasper!" I cried when he pulled my head back by my hair and my eyes met his dark ones. He grinded, I gasped, and without breaking the connection, I exploded in my pajama pants.

His mouth warped into a smirk. With a look of awe on my face, I pulled him down to brush my lips over his, silently asking him to kiss me again. Without so much as a flicker of doubt, he parted his lips for me and met my tongue in a slow dance.

When my breathing had finally returned to normal, he got up from my lap and extended his hand. I took it, but raised my eyebrow questioningly.

He pulled me through the hallway, turning off the lights as we went. Up the stairs, straight to the bathroom, where he stripped my pajama pants away and cleaned me up with a warm wet cloth. After that, he removed his own boxers and washed himself.

The cloth thrown carelessly into the hamper, he led me back to the guest room and pulled the covers back. Without a word, but still unsure of what he wanted, I slid in and watched as he lit the bedside lamp and turned to the door.

I slumped my shoulders and opened my mouth to wish him a good night. Before I could say a word, he flipped off the lights and turned back to me. He quickly got into bed beside me and lay his head on my shoulder; one arm around my waist, his leg carelessly draped over my thighs.

"Do you want to keep the light on?" he asked, and I took a glance to see if he was mocking me. As if he ever would.

"No, that's okay," I whispered. "With you here, Jasper, it isn't so bad."

He smiled widely and turned off the bed lamp, snuggling into my side even closer.

And fuck me, if I wasn't the happiest man alive right then.

April 5th 2012, White Rock, Dallas

I woke up to the warmth and scent of a man. His soft, supple skin was pressed to my chest and it felt oh so good. For a moment, just a fraction of a second, I allowed myself to pretend it was Edward. Just that little gap in time just after I woke up, before the memories of the previous night would hit me.

This happened over and over, time and time again. I'd be happy and I would be doing fine, but something would make me remember what I was missing, and I'd try my hardest to make it go away. Meaning I'd go out to a club and find myself a willing body to fuck me senseless.

I know, I know, that's not a good way to deal with anything, really, but what else? I tried to forget about him. I tried dating someone else, but it just didn't work. So right now, I'd bask in the physical connection and pretend like it's an emotional one. For now, I would pretend that this was the man I wanted more than anything.

He stirred and I knew it was over. I'd have to let it in and try to remember his name. In a second he would turn to me and look at me with a stranger's eyes, and I would no longer be able to pretend. I inhaled one more time and slowly opened my eyes.

This wasn't my bed, nor my apartment. Did I really go with someone last night? I never went home with a guy; I'd always bring them to my place. But wait, this room was familiar.

More stirring, and a nice ass pressed back against my morning wood. I bit my lip, suppressing a moan. As long as I was out of my mind drunk, I could handle meaningless sex, but not sober. Not once the sun was shining through the curtains.

'Fuck!' I thought when I eyed the messed up head of dark blond hair belonging to the man in my arms. I really found someone who could pass as Edward from behind. How pathetic am I? What the hell happened last night?

I shook my sleepy head and closed my eyes. Sorting through Nana's stuff with him; sure, that would've done it. But I didn't remember going out. I remember falling asleep on the couch in the living room and waking up.

I woke up because-

Wow! Fuck! Just- wow!

My eyes snapped open and I leaned up a bit to make sure my memory wasn't playing a trick on me. I saw his closed eyes, his long-ass lashes resting on his cheeks. Fuck me!

I laid back and smiled. This was Edward laying in my bed, in my arms.

He stirred again and I gently pulled him closer, not wanting to ever let him go.

"Hmmm," he moaned and sighed contently.

"Morning," I whispered in his hair, and kissed his neck.

He turned in my arms and smiled lazily. "Morning," he said huskily, and curled up to my chest while pushing me to my back. "Can we just stay here forever?"

Fuck! Breakfast with my mother!

He almost dropped off the bed with the speed I sat up. I searched frantically for a clock and saw Edward's phone on the night table. I checked it and saw it was already nearing nine! Fuck!

"Sorry," I apologized when I saw his confused eyes staring up at me. "I promised my mother to meet her for breakfast and I'm running late."

He nodded and smiled at me hesitantly. I paused for a moment, thinking about my options. Like him, I wished I didn't have to go anywhere. I'd be perfectly happy to just lay here in his arms until the day we died, but mama needed me.

"You want to come with me?" I asked him. "You know, as my erm, you know?"

I didn't even know what I was asking him. What were we? Friends? Boyfriends?

Apparently, he was sharing my thoughts, because his penetrating gaze made me slightly uncomfortable when he opened his mouth. "As your what, Jasper?"

I didn't feel ready to really put a name or label to what we were. I wanted him to be my everything, to be his everything. I wanted him with me forever. Now that I had him, I never ever wanted to lose him again. But to give it a name was frightening, so I gave him the best I had for now.

"As the person I love?" I whispered, and watched as a smile took over his face.

"I'd love to," he replied and kissed me.

.

The little bell above the diner door rung when we walked in, and my mother popped her head through the kitchen door.

"Hey, honey!" she called. "Your bed too cozy for ya?"

I chuckled and grabbed Edward's hand. My mother's eyes widened for a second before she smiled and came through the door.

"Edward Masen, how lovely to see you again," she said, and reached into the cabinet underneath the till.

She pulled out a large white envelope and eyed it, before shaking her head and laying it on the counter in front of me.

"I'll be with you two in a minute," she said and gave the envelope a little shove. "Read it."

I raised my eyebrow at her, but she turned and walked back into the kitchen. I thought she mumbled something like; 'meddlesome old bat' and 'got to love her', before disappearing from view, but I couldn't be sure.

I looked up at Edward and he just shrugged, not knowing what this was about either. Picking up the envelope, I led him to a table in the corner and sat down. His hand still in mine, I struggled to open it and pull out a folded sheet of scented paper, my nana's scented paper, and read:

Dear Edward and Jasper,

I knew you would find your way back.

Enjoy your lives, enjoy each other and live the way you want to live.

There's no one who can take away what you two accomplished,

and there's nothing you can't accomplish now.

I'm so very proud of you,

Your Nana.

I felt Edward rest his head on my shoulder and I squeezed his hand lightly.

"I don't want to sell her house," he said, barely audible, and I felt the same sentiment pull at my heart.

"Then we won't," I promised, kissing the top of his head.

I felt the tears trickle down my cheeks, but I didn't care, for these were happy tears. I was and would always be the richest man on earth, as long as I had him by my side.