Bella said nothing to me as I walked into the library looking like hell. A shower couldn't fix what was obviously broken in me. I went through my day silently, helping those who dared to even speak to me. There wasn't many. Mostly just oblivious old ladies browsing the erotica section, unable to reach the dirtiest books on the top shelf and needing the assistance of a tall, fit young lad.
It wasn't even remotely endearing.
I felt like a zombie carrying smutty literature to the front desk for perverted grandmas. I knew exactly what time it was when I made my way back toward the checkout desk with the latest finds of filth in written form, that's why I made the long trip around and didn't spare a glance where I knew he would be. I could feel his eyes, burning like they always did, only today I felt transparent and weak and the burn physically hurt.
I wished I hadn't caught his movement from the corner of my eye and I wished I wouldn't have felt disappointment when he gathered his things together to leave, early. I pretended not to notice, not my misplaced feelings or the fact that he was leaving. He had to be checked out before he could leave and frantically, I searched the library for Bella. She was no where in sight.
Which meant that after I was finished scanning through implicating titles of cheap porn for old Mrs. Caius, I'd have to deal with him.
I moved as slow as I possibly could, bagging the precious books of throbbing members and quivering centers carefully.
"Oh, sweet child, I don't know if I could possibly carry all of these books by myself," she drawled, eying me in a wholly inappropriate way.
Four paperbacks sure are heavy when loaded with cliché euphemisms. I would gladly carry them for her. He would just have to wait.
But of course, Bella appeared out of thin air the moment I made to swing the bag off the counter.
"I got this," she said, fixing me with a firm look.
"But..." stuttered Mrs. Caius, staring longingly at me. Begrudgingly, she followed Bella, who I glared at spitefully.
She just smiled.
Evil bitch.
"Are you really that desperate to be away from me?" Carlisle asked.
"No," I lied flatly, reaching for his book to scan it.
He pulled it out of my reach. "Can we please talk?"
"No," I said, again flatly, keeping my hand outstretched for his book.
"Are you seeing someone?" he asked, nearly as blankly as my replies.
"No."
"Then who did this to you?" he demanded angrily.
This? Didn't he know? He did it. He did it without even trying. But somehow, I knew he didn't quite understand that the empty void that was me today was how I'd felt since he told me he couldn't. I just hadn't let it show until now. And the bite mark on my neck and stutter in my step told a different story completely.
"It doesn't matter," I told him easily. "Let me get that checked out and you can be on your way."
"No," he said firmly. "I'm not leaving until you talk to me."
"It's not your problem," I said stiffly, losing my patience, my unfeeling demeanor. "You made it quite clear we don't know each other. You have no reason to care. So please." I stared firmly at his book, motioning for him to hand it over.
"I have every reason to care. I'm sorry if you feel I rejected you, I didn't mean to make you feel unwanted."
"Oh, please," I snapped, slamming my hands down on the counter. "I can handle the fucking rejection, that's not what bothered me. It was the fact that you wouldn't even fucking speak to me after you dismissed me, you wouldn't even look at me."
"I'm sorry," he replied simply. "I didn't mean―"
"Go fuck yourself," I cut him off, not wanting to hear how he never wanted to hurt me. It was pure fucking bullshit.
Since he didn't really seem to want to check out anyway, I walked away from the counter, moving to the private room usually used for book club meetings and shit like that. I needed to get myself under control, I needed to be away from him.
I barely registered that the door didn't slam the way I'd intended it to, but instead clicked quietly into place. I couldn't think straight enough to realize he'd followed me. I didn't even think before I threw myself into a chair, then gasped out in pain, startling myself back into the present moment.
"Who did this to you?" Carlisle demanded, crossing the room to stand in front of me.
"You did this to me," I muttered with my hands over my eyes, pinching the bridge of my nose in hopes of easing the pound in my head.
"I know I hurt you, and I'm sorry, but that's not what I'm asking. I want to know who did this to you, I want to know who he was," he ordered pointedly.
"A friend," I offered, though it wasn't any of his damn business.
"A friend wouldn't hurt you like this."
"I hurt him first."
Carlisle grabbed my shoulders, forcing me back. Outraged, I met his eyes. "I don't care if you hurt him first, it doesn't make it okay for him to have hurt you this way. Rape is not―"
"I didn't fucking get raped," I cried, shoving him away from me, standing up to my fullest height in hopes of not feeling so utterly fucking small under his scrutinizing stare. "I asked for this. I never once said no and it was exactly what I deserved."
"You don't deserved to be hurt―"
"You fucking hurt me!" I yelled at him incredulously. I shoved his chest, pushing him away from me. "You did this to me. It was exactly what I deserved for saying your name, for wishing he was you. You hurt me and I hurt him, I got exactly what I should have."
"You're wrong. I'm the one who deserves the pain you bear, this is all my fault."
"You deserve nothing," I hissed at him, shoving him back again, barely noticing the way I jerked forward as he stumbled back, putting no distance between us at all. "You don't deserve me."
"I know. I know I don't. You're too―"
"Young," I finished for him, spitting the word like a curse. "I'm too young for you, and too good, and too fucking special and perfect. I read your note when you left the book behind, I know exactly how you feel."
His eyes widened slightly, not expecting that, then pain flashed through them.
"I know that too," I said, somewhat more softly. "And I understand that reason. But that is the only reason you have for not being with me."
My chest heaving, I finally noticed that he was pulling me closer to him. "I have many reasons. You deserve better than me, you deserve more."
"Your feelings for me lie strictly behind your belt, nothing else should matter to you when all you want is a fuck."
Anger, so cold and hard, turned those pale eyes to ice. "Do not tell me how I feel, you don't know―"
"Don't tell me what I deserve, you don't know!" I countered, cutting him off.
A sound of pure rage came from between his lips before they were smashed to mine. My head hit the wall with a resounding thud and I hissed into his mouth as his tongue dove in, urging and gaining his dominance. It lasted only a few short breaths before his lips were gone, his forehead against mine. A shaking hand snaked around the back of my neck, pinching, hurting.
"Is this what you want? Is this what you think you deserve? This isn't what I want to give you, Edward, you do not deserve my anger."
I didn't have a chance to answer as the painful fingers digging into my neck disappeared and reappeared again against my lower back. Gentle, tickling touches worked beneath my shirt and under the waistband of my jeans, sliding back and forth, just over the top of my butt. Tender lips pressed apologetic kisses over the sore bruise on my neck and trailed down to my shoulder, up to my ear, and everywhere between until he stopped kissing at my chin, not meeting my lips.
"Or is this what you want?" he asked. "This is what I want for you. You should be worshiped and cherished... loved."
"I want you either way," I divulged honestly.
His eyes slid closed, disappointedly, as he sighed. "I'm not any good for you, I think that's been made abundantly clear."
"You think I don't know that?" I asked, shaking my head. "I'm not a boy, Carlisle. I'm not so stupid that I don't know you can't feel for me the way I feel for you. That doesn't change anything."
"It's wrong," he muttered.
"What's wrong?"
"This. Us. I shouldn't do this, but I think it's too late."
"Does it feel wrong?"
"When I'm close to you, no. When I think about it, yes," he answered, sliding his lids back to look at me directly.
"Then don't think about it," I urged.
He sighed, shaking his head at me. I thought he was going to speak or break away from me, but instead he kissed me. He really kissed me, with feeling and intensity and without anger. Indisputably, the kiss was tender and sweet, but the undertone of uncertainty and trepidation spoke levels.
Even knowing he didn't really want this, I wrapped my fingers into his hair, because even if it wasn't as real for him, it was real for me, and I didn't care. He wanted me enough to kiss me this way, and for now, that was enough. I truthfully did want him any way I could have him, hurt be damned. His pull over me wasn't something I was going to give up because I was too afraid. I had to try.
His kiss slowed, and he broke from my mouth breathlessly, pressing his lips determinedly over my cheeks and jaw. "Tell me what you want," he whispered imploringly. "I'll give you anything you want. Within reason," he added pulling back to meet my eyes. "I think you understand that there are certain things that I cannot give."
I nodded my head solemnly. I understood, perfectly. Well, perhaps not, but I think I knew what he meant. "What do you want, exactly?" I hedged to ask, realizing I was more confused than I really wanted to be.
"It doesn't matter what I want," he said firmly, eyes growing cold again.
"Then I can't do this," I decided, pushing him back from me.
But he clung on. "What do you mean?"
Frustrated, I closed my eyes and resigned myself against the wall, pinching my nose in hopes of being able to sort through my thoughts. "I mean that if you think what I want is the only thing that matters, then we can't do this."
"But why?" he stuttered out. "Why is that important to you at all? It shouldn't matter what I want."
I could have slapped him across the face for that. "I thought it was clear that my feelings weren't strictly in my pants," I snapped at him angrily. "I don't know what kind of fucked up masochistic complex you have, but I'm not that type of man. I'm not interested in doing something that you aren't going to enjoy. It matters to me what you want, and if that's nothing, then it will be nothing. I won't be with you in anyway if you don't want me."
"What the hell gave you the impression that I didn't want you?" he asked confusedly. Pointedly, he tilted his hips forward, pressing the full length of his arousal against my hip before pulling it away again. "I don't have words for how much I want you, Edward, just let that be enough."
"Why did you get angry when I suggested all you were interested in was a fuck? Do you want more?" I demanded to know.
He groaned in a pained way, shielding his pain from me as his eyes again grew agonized. "It doesn't matter what I want, Edward, because I can't have it."
I think I understood that, at least. He wanted his wife back, but that wasn't in the playing cards. The question was still whether he wanted a fuck or not, or more than one... I couldn't understand what the hell he was thinking.
"I want more than a fuck buddy, but it's not entirely possible for me," he said softly, while I continuously tried to make sense of his words and actions. "I want to give you what you want, Edward, whatever it is. That's what I want. But again, be reasonable."
Fine. "I want a date," I told him, raising my chin.
He nodded, surprising me completely. "I'll give you as many dates as you want, wherever you want. I'll buy you anything you want, and if it's what you desire, I'll treat you respectfully and not kiss you again until you ask for it."
All I heard was his agreement to the date, and an offer to buy me off. "I don't want your fucking money," I spat, shoving him away.
He stumbled back, a shocked look on his face. He immediately came right back to me, trying to hold on to me again while I stubbornly pushed him away each time. "I'll only treat you like a whore if that's what you want," he said angrily, finally giving up his pursuit to be closer to me. Of course, then I wanted him back. I wasn't shy about reaching out and pulling him back to me either. "I didn't mean I wanted to pay you to spend time with me, though if that is what it'll take, I'll do that. All I meant is that dating requires a certain level of gifting. Money is no issue, I'll buy you any frivolous trinket you want," he explained against my jaw, nuzzling and kissing between words.
"That makes little to no sense to me," I admitted.
"What?" he asked, sucking a tender spot beneath my ear, making the little sense in my brain disappear completely.
"Would you stop?" I gasped, jerking away.
"Is that what you want?" he asked huskily.
"No," I divulged, "but I can't fucking think with you sucking on my neck."
"Alight," he allowed, forgoing the necking to look into my eyes instead.
That scattered my brain worse. I ducked my head and closed my eyes, trying like hell to remember what I wanted to ask him, and to stop thinking about his lips and tongue traveling lower down my body. "Hey," he urged, stroking my jaw with his thumb. "Don't clam up on me again. I'm sorry if I'm pushing you, you're impossible for me to resist."
A disbelieving laugh burst out of my mouth before I could stop it and he met my eyes questioningly. "Why would you want to buy me things when we won't really be dating?" I asked soberly.
"Won't really be dating?" he returned confusedly. "What does that mean?"
I rolled my eyes at him. "I'm not going to fool myself into believing that you really want to date me, Carlisle. It's little more than an inconvenience to you."
He shuddered lightly then closed his eyes and shook his head. "You're a fool."
"Well, fuck you very much," I grumbled, feeling the urge to shove him away again. Knowing that I'd just want to feel his warmth against me again when he was gone though, I withheld the impulse.
"So, if I'm understanding your thoughts correctly, you believe that I only want to take you on dates, dates that will be inconveniencing to me, in hopes of wooing you out of your pants so I can fuck and duck."
"More or less," I replied, surprised he knew the saying 'fuck and duck'. I guess he really wasn't that old.
"What's more?" he asked.
Rolling my eyes again, I explained, "You've made it abundantly clear that the sex won't be more than a one time thing. I want more than one night with you, so..." I trailed off self-consciously, looking toward the door.
"I never said the sex would be a one time thing," he said softly. "To be completely honest, I don't even know if I'll be able to have sex with you."
"What?" I deadpanned.
He frowned. "I don't know if I'll be able to have sex with you," he repeated. He needed not have, it was already resounding through my brain like a faulty vinyl. "You have to understand, Edward, this is hard for me."
"This is hard for me too," I gasped back at him.
"I don't think it's hard for you in the same way," he said with a smirk, brushing his thigh over my steely erection. "Though, it is hard for me that way too."
"You're an asshole."
"Get used to it," he replied simply. "Look," he continued, "I want the dates. I'm frankly relieved that you want them too, not only because that means this is more than just a fuck for you too, but because I think I need time to ease myself into this. I don't know what I can and can't do. I don't know what will be too much. It's probably a mistake. No, it is a mistake, I'm positive that I'm going to hurt you and I know this is wrong, but I still want to try. I have to try, with you."
"I'm an experiment for you then?" I asked, surprisingly more curious about the answer than angry.
"Not exactly. Though if it doesn't work, I never plan to try again," he replied sadly.
"Have you ever been with another man before?" I asked, choosing to ignore the dread his previous statement put in my stomach.
"Yes, Edward, but it was a long time ago."
I took that to mean before his wife, especially considering the new sadness in him. I didn't know what to make of it, what to make of him. I needed to get away from him and clear my head to think all of this through.
"I have to get back to work. I've left Bella alone out there for too long," I told him regretfully.
He nodded, seemingly struggling to make his hands let me go as much as I was. "I'll understand if your mind has changed. I actually hope that you change your mind."
"No you don't," I called him out.
He smiled miserably. "No, not really."
"Are you always going to be this depressing?" I asked cautiously.
To my relief, he chuckled. "No, I'm sure that I can do more than depress you."
"Promises, promises," I joked easily.
He leaned in, catching me in a surprisingly convincing kiss. If he kissed me like that all the time, he would definitely be doing more than depressing me. The problem was that his kiss made me hopeful, it was far too promising.
"Get back to work, Library Boy," he teased, tugging my disheveled shirt straight. "Shouldn't you be wearing a tie for this profession?"
I didn't make it a point to tell him I didn't even own a tie. After seeing the longing look in his eyes, though, I decided I needed to go shopping.
"Do you want my phone number?" I asked timidly, not sure exactly what to do now.
"Yes," he said, producing his cell phone and pushing it into my hand.
I typed in my cell number, but when I went to save it, it said there was already an 'Edward' saved in his contacts. "Ur, um, I can't save the number, you already have an Edward," I told him ruefully.
"I have no other Edwards," he assured, taking his phone back and kissing me before stating, "There, you see, the lone original Edward, just as you should be."
"Doesn't mean you don't have Johns and Jacobs," I mumbled, trying to sound like I was joking, but I was worried I would just end up being one of his many heartbroken toys.
"I have no Johns or Jacobs, or Jingleheimer Schmidts for that matter," he replied.
I chuckled in spite of myself, remembering the rhyme from my childhood. But then I sighed, still concerned.
"Don't you fret, I have no one else. There's been no one else," he admitted.
"Ever?" I asked.
He nodded somberly.
"Why me? What is special about me? How long has it been?" I questioned him.
He sighed, obvious pain and sadness again plain as day all over his face. "These aren't questions for here and now, Edward, you have to get back to work." At my expression, he softened. "I will tell you, believe me, I will, but just... not now. When we have more time, I promise. To be blunt, I don't know why you haven't shut me up yet, you could have done so quite effectively," he said, deliberately stroking one lone, teasing finger over my length.
I hissed, pushing my hips forward for more pressure, but his hand disappeared.
"You're different than I―" I cut him off, forcing him into a deep kiss, and he pulled back with a rumbling chuckle. "Not exactly what I meant about shutting me up."
"Shut up," I instructed.
"Also not what I meant."
I rolled my eyes and kissed him again. Pulling back, I whispered, "I know what you meant, but I'm not putting my cock in your mouth yet, you're just going to have to wait."
My eyes went wide as he lunged for me, a growl coming from his mouth as he shoved me back against the wall I'd just barely stepped away from. His hips pressed so hard to mine that it hurt. His hips pressed so hard to mine, I think my feet actually left the ground momentarily.
I loved this side of him. I loved watching him lose control of himself, seeing him act on impulse. He didn't strike me as the type of guy who let loose very often, and feeling the wild way he shoved me hard against the wall, all feral sounds as he rubbed his hard dick against mine...
I was going to fucking cum in my pants if he didn't stop.
Before I could even warn him or tell him to stop, he was off of me, panting hard and placing kisses like apologies all over my throat. Chaste, light and fluttery, like butterfly wings, he continued to kiss until I realized that we'd been locked away in here for well over an hour.
"I need to go," I said, pushing him back gently.
"I'm sorry," he replied softly.
"You need to stop apologizing," I sighed, straightening my clothes, then cursed when I spotted the wet stain on the front of my jeans.
Carlisle stared and stared until my cock twitched under his heated gaze, no doubt making the stain a little bit bigger, and he looked away. Amused eyes met mine and I glared. "Sorry," he muttered.
"Fuck you," I grumbled, trying to hide the stain and my erection by tugging my shirt down, but it didn't work.
"Fuck me?" he asked laughingly.
"I plan to," I said cheekily, "but if I'm not letting you suck my dick yet, you better believe you're not getting fucked yet either. Call me," I finished, yanking the door open before he could see the heat that had crept into my cheeks.
Stop blushing, magically lose your boner and pre-cum stain, and everything will be fine.
Unfortunately, none of the above happened. As I moved back behind the counter, Bella ambushed.
She whipped me around to face her and I blushed darker as she blatantly stared at my groin. I cleared my throat and she glared up at me. "What the hell happened? I heard yelling but no sex sounds. Why don't you look thoroughly fucked? And why do you still have a boner after being in there so long?"
"Well, Bella, darling, my rectum is―"
"Never mind," she cut me off, flailing her hands and grimacing.
Works like a charm.
I smirked and looked over my shoulder to be sure Carlisle hadn't heard any of that. I sighed knowing he hadn't as he was still in the private meeting room, hopefully still recovering from my outburst. I can't believe I said that! My fleeting bravery had ran the fuck away because when he finally came out, meeting my eyes, I looked away.
Bella sighed. "Am I going to have to continue to be the one who takes care of him?"
"No," I whisper-yelled at her. "You may not check him out either."
She rolled her eyes―a habit she had picked up from me―at me and walked away, grumbling―another habit she had picked up from me. Bella really needed a new hobby, she copied me too much.
"You okay?" Carlisle asked, having made it back to the circulation desk.
I glanced up at him, then down at his book again. I nodded my head in answer, though I wasn't positive that I really was okay. I had a lot of shit to think about.
"You're being quiet again," he pointed out gently. He pushed his book across the counter, dropping his hand from the book onto mine. He soothingly stroked along my hand, fingers tracing metacarpals, fingertips rubbing knuckles, fingers lightly pressing between mine. "I don't want to tell you not to be afraid, because it's probably good that you are, but I want you to know that I do care about you, that's why I want you to tell me no."
"You already know how I feel," I told him determinedly.
He sighed and nodded. "I do. But it will always be your choice. If you say stop, I will stop, no matter what."
He squeezed my hand then pulled it away, allowing me to check out his book. "Perhaps it is you who should have my number, so you can call me when you're ready," Carlisle suggested when I was handing him his checkout slip.
"You can call at anytime, it's fine."
"What if I call tonight?" he asked.
"That's fine. I'll answer."
"All the same, Edward, I think I should give you my number so you can call if you need anything."
I sighed, pulling my phone out of my pocket, punching the numbers in as he gave them to me.
"I'll see you on Monday then," he said. Quickly, he added, "Unless you want to see me sooner?"
"I always want to see you," I muttered embarrassedly, feeling my cheeks flame. "But I think maybe we should have a few days to think, in case you want to change your mind."
"I won't change my mind," he said, reaching back over the counter to squeeze my hand again. "You are more than welcome too though."
I rolled my eyes and huffed, really meeting his eyes for the first time since we'd been alone. He chuckled, keeping his hand on mine.
"May I kiss you?"
I swallowed nervously but nodded my consent.
"Perhaps it's not the best idea, this is your place of business after all."
I huffed and rolled my eyes at him again. "It's fine, Bella and her boyfriend have practically fucked in here. No one is really here right now anyway."
He smiled and leaned closer to me over the counter. "You're sure?"
"Positive," I replied hurriedly, placing my other palm flat against the counter as I leaned to meet him.
His hand had remained on mine and the other hand quickly joined, resting his palms against the tops of mine. He hesitated slightly before closing the distance between us. The kiss was light and soft, chaste and very tender. Warmth spread through my chest as his lips brushed over mine and I relaxed instantly, feeling oddly at peace.
Then Bella squealed and clapped her hands and we both stiffened, remembering we were in public. Stupid Bella, the evil little wench.
"I should go," Carlisle said, his warm breath still close enough to make my lips tingle. He'd stayed far over his usual time, he probably had things to do. I wish he'd turn into a wall―or table―decoration for me to permanently ogle.
I nodded my head, reluctant to pull away and watch him leave, but at the same time, wanting to be able to think clearly―which I wasn't capable of doing with him around.
"I'll see you on Monday, then?" he asked.
I chuckled, again nodding. "I'll be here."
"You can call, if you want to," he assured me.
"And you can call me too."
"I'm stalling," he voiced aloud.
I couldn't help but smile. "For what it's worth, I would like you to stay, but we're closing soon, and you probably should go."
"I know."
He made no move to leave, so I pushed up on my toes, kissing him again. He hummed his approval, titling his head to the side slightly while he pushed forward. Thankfully, Bella didn't fucking go all girly-girl on us and squeal again, but I could still feel her eyes and it was really unnerving. Parting my lips for one last direct hit of Carlisle, tasting him with my tongue, feeling him in my mouth, on my mind, I finally decided he really had to go.
I pulled back and turned away, pretending to be busy with the cart of books behind the counter. He groaned, "Tease," quietly, and that I really couldn't help but smile at.
I heard him gather his things, and when the door chimed, I glanced over my shoulder, finding him doing the same. He smiled, and I returned it, meeting his eyes one last time before he departed. A flurry of fantasies assaulting my brain was what he left me with.
A/N: First, thank you to my beta, Strae. You're more awesome than boys in booty shorts, man.
Second, I love Carlisle and Edward together, I honestly do. They are probably my favorite slash pairing. Yeah, seriously. I'll take Carlisle/Edward over Jasper/Edward.
There aren't nearly enough Carlisle/Edward stories. In case you're intrigued, here are my faves:
By far the best is Wood by algonquinrt. I literally read this story over and over, I'm so in love with it.
http://www.fanfiction.net/s/5348404/1/Wood
There is also a continuation here – http://www.fanfiction.net/s/5701923/1/Wood
SubtlePen wrote a great little one-shot named Joy, Relief, Lust, Gratitude that is told in drabbles. I adore it.
http://www.fanfiction.net/s/6242276/1/Joy_Relief_Lust_Gratitude
I really, really love avioleta's Stay.
http://www.fanfiction.net/s/6176997/1/Stay
Another amazing piece is Never Like This by EmmettGirl.
http://www.fanfiction.net/s/5402576/1/Never_Like_This
Enjoy. Feel free to recc me more Carlisle/Edward fics if you know of a good one I'm missing out on.
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