Sorry, yet again, for taking so long over this. But six months have passed for the Since boys, so they've been waiting too.

This is officially the end of Since, but there is an outtake currently available on the Twinklings blog which will soon be posted on my other story thread, especially for those of you who so wished Bella had got in on the action. There may be others, so please put me on Author Alert if you want those, and let me know if there are any others you would like to see - the only thing I definitely won't be doing is any of the chapters from a different POV.

I am also working on two new stories which should be ready over the summer, I hope you'll give those a try too.

As this is my last Since A/N, I want to thank again all the amazing peeps who made it happen - it has truly been a group effort. In no particular order, enormous thanks to:

The TwiSluts Anonymous Collective, without whom I would never have started writing

Conversed, for pointing me the way of the slash

Livinginadw, for pretty much everything - you are my life now ;)

Hoochiemomma, for endless WC and patient beta duty above and beyond the call - reconvene darling

EvilGiraffe82, for kicking my ass and deleting BAD WORDS, and making me think much harderer about what I write

Jasperluver48, for pimping my stories and encouraging me every day

Nitg69 for providing the original prompt

- and all the amazing readers and reviewers for spending your time with my boys. If I didn't reply to any of your reviews, please know I have read and appreciated every single one, even the slightly odd ones :P

Since has been nominated in a couple of categories at The Slash Awards, so many thanks to whoever put it up for that, and feel free to vote!

As always, SM owns. I'm just gonna miss them more than she does.

EPOV

6 months later

I'd never managed to sleep on a plane before, but then I'd never travelled business class either. I'd eaten a half-decent meal and settled down to watch a movie, relishing the fact that I could actually straighten my legs. The next thing I knew, the cabin crew were waking me up on the approach to JFK.

I was grateful that I hadn't had to fidget through the whole flight. I was still nervous, but somehow calm. I was doing something, rather than waiting for something. It felt like the end of limbo, even if it was a leap into the unknown. The last six months had been disconcerting to say the least. Almost every aspect of my life had changed since Jasper left, and I was in the process of changing the most significant part yet.

Jasper had texted me pretty much the second his plane landed on the day he left. After about twenty texts in the first twenty-four hours, we switched to instant messaging before we bankrupted ourselves. For the first week or so our conversations were mundane. We talked about what we were doing - work, music, current affairs, even what we were eating. It was kind of comforting. We got to know each other's writing style, enough to make fun of each other, enough to know when the other had a bad day, or was having a few too many drinks.

We didn't talk about how we were feeling or who we were seeing or what we thought about what had happened between us. I felt too raw, and I was waiting for the pain to go away. I was still sure it would. It occurred to me that maybe it would get better quicker if I didn't keep chatting to him every minute of the day, but I didn't seem to be able to stop. The time difference was killing me as it was, losing ten hours a day because we slept at different times. We both stayed up stupidly late, me to carry on talking to him during his evening, him to catch me when I got up for work in the morning. It was addictive.

But then three weeks after he left, things really started to kick off with Bella. Up to that point, we had avoided discussing how we were going to move on. I'd slept in the spare room, refusing to wash the sheets until every trace of Jasper's scent had gone, which in hindsight was pretty disgusting. I went to work or shut myself in my office; Bella went to work and spent the evenings at Kate's house. I knew I should make an effort to move out, but it wasn't just my home, it was my workplace, and finding somewhere new to run my business from was going to be a challenge. Plus, I was too busy feeling sorry for myself.

Bella, of course, didn't have any patience for that kind of crap. She gave me the three weeks and then told me I either had to move out by the end of the month, or I'd have to buy the house off her, which she knew wasn't possible. And then she moved out, saying she'd be back when I was gone. I ignored the problem for another two weeks until Emmett and Garrett came over and kicked my arse. Garrett had a friend who was looking for a tenant for a bedsit in the town centre, so they basically signed me up and forced me to pack.

It was hideous. I found I didn't really care about most of the stuff in the house. I packed my music, my books and clothes, and a few kitchen things I'd really need. I took the damn coffee machine. I dismantled my office until only bare metal racks remained. I couldn't take it all with me so I rented storage space and boxed everything up except my newest laptop and a router. I couldn't realistically operate my business like that, so I wound up my open jobs and told my regular clients I'd be taking a break, thinking I'd go back to it when I was more settled. I asked at the office if they could use me more than two days a week and they practically jumped on me. Two weeks after I moved out, I was running the department and working fifty hours a week in a job I'd never wanted in the first place.

I kept most of this from Jasper at first. Actually, I kept all of it from him. I didn't want him to feel responsible. Plus, he was my escape. When I was chatting to him, I could forget about all the shit going on in my life. But working the new job meant I couldn't stay up half the night any more. Whoever invented breakfast meetings should be shot. He noticed, of course, and started asking questions. I avoided answering them, giving vague excuses or changing the subject.

I guess he contacted Rosalie in the end, because he phoned me one night to yell at me for not telling him what was going on. I just sat there, holding the phone slightly away from my ear, listening to him rant about how I shouldn't keep stuff from him and how was he supposed to be my friend if I didn't talk to him? I was just so damn happy to hear his voice that I didn't care. I had to tell him to shut the fuck up in the end. Just like old times.

After that, everything was on the table. He told me he missed me every day. I told him I thought about him all the time. He admitted that he wasn't seeing anyone which surprised me, but also made me disproportionately pleased. I hadn't dared to ask, not really wanting to know the answer. God knows, I wasn't about to try to hook up with someone else.

Talking on the phone took some getting used to. The messaging was easier; writing gave us time to to think about what we were saying, and it didn't matter if we couldn't think of anything to say at all. I didn't know what to talk about the first few times we spoke, but Jasper, being Jasper, had some excellent ideas.

He phoned one night a couple of days after that first call. He had just got in from work and I was thinking about getting ready for bed, but really checking my phone every ten seconds to see if he was around. He told me he'd been thinking about me all day. He'd been in dull meetings, his mind wandering, and couldn't stop the image of me bending him over the boardroom table popping into his head at regular intervals. I half choked on my drink.

"Christ, Jasper," I spluttered. He chuckled at me down the phone.

"Don't tell me you haven't been thinking about it too," he said, casually.

I hesitated.

"Well, maybe not that exact scenario," I admitted. The reality was that he featured in every single fantasy I'd jerked off to in my pathetic lonely room, and now I was never going to be able to look at the board table at the office in the same way ever again.

"So what exact scenarios have you been thinking about?" he asked.

I could hear him moving about, rustling and faint clattering sounds in the background.

"What are you doing?" I demanded, suspiciously.

"Don't change the subject," he said. "Tell me what you've been thinking about doing with me."

There was the distinctive noise of a belt buckle clinking and I could have sworn I heard something creak as he sat down.

"Are you jerking off?" I challenged him. "Because I'm not talking dirty to you just for you to get your rocks off."

"Oh come on, Edward," he said. "I've been having fantasy office sex with you all day, give a guy a break."

Now he had me thinking about doing him over a desk. I couldn't help myself.

"What was I wearing?" I asked.

"You what?" he replied, confused.

"In your office sex fantasy, what was I wearing?" I persisted.

"Ah. Oh, the suit. From the wedding," he admitted.

I sat down on my own bed and popped the button on my jeans. My cock had started to get interested at about the point he said the words "fantasy office sex", and there was no way I was going to talk him through this without joining in.

"And where exactly were we?" I went on.

"In the boardroom," he said, and I could practically hear him smirk as he realised I was giving in. "It's like a huge meeting room on the twenty-fifth floor, with windows on two sides. There's a massive table with fancy leather chairs all round it."

I sat back against my pillows and closed my eyes, pushing my hand into my boxers and easing my hardening cock upwards.

"And what exactly were we doing?" I asked.

He paused. I wondered if he was going to make something up, or tell me what he had really imagined.

"You were pushing me down," he said, finally. "Face down on the board table. Pants round my ankles. Bare ass, right there waiting for you."

"Shit, Jasper, I really miss your ass." The words tumbled out of me before I could stop them, set loose by the visual in my imagination of the exposed windows and his naked backside under my hand.

"What do you miss about it, Edward?" he asked, his voice thickening.

"Oh Christ. I miss... honestly, I just miss fucking you," I admitted.

"Yeah, I miss that too," he sighed. "I miss feeling your fingers inside me first."

I swallowed hard. My mind was running riot and my cock was hot in my hand. I lifted my hips and shoved my clothes down to my thighs.

"Okay," I said. "Just one to start with. I'd hold you down with one hand on your back and slide just one finger in; work it all the way in and then back out again."

"Mmmmm," he murmured. "Want more."

"Impatient, are we?" I teased, but the truth was, now that I had started, I was feeling pretty needy myself.

"Want more," he insisted, and I could hear him breathing heavily down the phone.

"Two then," I conceded. "Two, pressing down, curling around, gonna find that sweet spot, make you scream."

"Oh God, Edward," he moaned. "I'm so fucking hard, I've been aching all day thinking about this."

The sound of his control slipping was driving me crazy, images of his face and memories of his touch rocking through me.

"I wouldn't be able to wait." I told him, gripping myself harder. "Just thinking about pushing inside you, feeling you give and let me in, feeling you so damn tight and hot around me."

"Oh fuck, I need you so much," he gasped, his voice becoming incoherent.

"I want to make it so good Jasper," I told him, fucking my hand faster. "Slamming into you, feels so good, feels. So. Fucking. Good."

"Fuck Edward, so close, I'm gonna come -"

When I heard him cry out it did me in, remembering how it felt when he came around me, buried deep inside him. I came harder than I had in weeks, covering my belly and hand in thick white streams, swearing and shouting his name.

It was definitely better than jerking off by myself in the shower.

"Jasper?"

There was a low chuckle at the other end of the line.

"I thought you weren't going to talk dirty to me," he said.

"Fuck off," I retorted, but I was laughing too.

We caught our breath in silence for a few moments.

"I miss you, Edward."

"Yeah, I miss you too."

~o0~O~0o~

I started travelling with work, going out to client sites to review installations. At first it was Europe, short trips to Berlin or Amsterdam. Then we got an account in Prague and I had a few trips there. I liked the travelling, liked getting out of my tiny room, as long as I still had a decent broadband connection at the hotel. When I saw an account coming up in the States, I lobbied hard to get it. Really hard. I was ecstatic when it was confirmed and the trip came through, only to realise that the installation was in Houston.

Jasper and I spent days on the web and the phone, trying to work out how to meet up. I looked at layovers in New York, he looked at internal flights and road trips, but we couldn't make it work. I didn't have enough time, and he didn't have enough money. It was only when I finally admitted defeat, that I wasn't going to be able to see him, and I realised how devastated I was, that it hit me. I didn't want to do this any more.

I started plotting. I didn't tell Jasper at first because I wasn't sure it would work out. I put on my fucking monkey suit and went and sweet-talked every executive I could find. I did research, drew up business plans, and pestered and pestered and pestered. Sometimes being extremely intelligent has its benefits.

It's not like I didn't still have doubts. I knew I was taking a big chance. I hadn't felt the slightest inclination to date anyone since he left. I had no idea if this was just about Jasper or if I was now gay, or bi, or whatever. I even let Bella drag me to a gay club one time, once we were talking again. That's a whole other story.

I finally got the green light from the company about four months after he left. I called him to tell him, explaining that the company had decided to open an office in New York. I didn't mention that it was my idea. I told him I'd be heading up the new office and I'd be coming over - for about two years. He went crazy, screaming down the phone, so excited and happy and completely delighted he could barely speak. I was so fucking relieved; there was a part of me that had feared he would be horrified, that he didn't really want anything more from me than what we had.

It took another two months to get everything sorted out - the longest two months of my fucking life. I started living on US time, spending afternoons and evenings on the phone to letting agents, leasing companies, banks and potential clients. I was taking two of my team with me and ironically they went out first, putting things in place, travelling back and forth for weeks.

But then there I was. At last. On the final descent into JFK. My stomach was in knots. I had that dry, gritty, grimy feeling from the air-conditioning and I was horribly thirsty. The cabin crew brought bottles of water and I sipped slowly, wondering if I had time to brush my teeth.

Jasper was coming to pick me up from the airport. The company had offered me a car service to take me to the apartment that had been rented for me, but I'd told them I'd find my own way there. Jasper had begged me to spend at least the first night at his place. In fact he'd wanted me to move in with him completely, but I'd resisted. One step at a time. We compromised by agreeing to go to my apartment first to drop off my bags and check out what supplies I was going to need, and then head over to his place for the evening.

The process of getting off the plane and through the airport was interminable. Queuing up for passport control, for baggage reclaim, watching endless bags on the carousel, queuing up again to get through customs... I stopped walking. When I got through the next door, he'd be there. I was exhausted and wired and nervous and I needed a moment to clear my head before I headed through.

I hate being met at the airport. You have to walk past a bunch of people gawking at you, looking for their friends, as you drag your case and desperately rake the crowd for a familiar face. It was noisy and bright, and I couldn't see him. I had a sudden irrational panic attack – what if he wasn't there? What if something had happened? What if he'd changed his mind? My heart thumped in my chest as I looked along the barrier again, walking slowly, still not seeing him anywhere.

I finally spotted him right at the far end of the hall. He was leaning against a pillar, one leg tucked up underneath him, watching me. He'd obviously seen me before I'd seen him, but he hadn't moved, letting me come to him. As usual.

I couldn't take my eyes off him. If I'd thought my heart was thumping hard before, now it felt like it was going to bust a rib. I hadn't realised how worried I'd been; that I'd see him and it wouldn't be the same, that I'd made a huge mistake. But Christ, he was still as completely devastating as the last time I'd seen him. He was smiling so widely he looked half demented, his blue eyes sparkling, hands shoved in the pockets of his faded jeans. He pushed away from the wall as I got closer, but the bastard still didn't walk towards me.

I dragged my case behind me, walking slowly, no longer hearing the chaotic noises of the airport as I closed the gap. Families and business travellers crossed in front of me, stalling my progress. My dry mouth was parched and I tried to swallow but couldn't relieve the fire in my throat.

Finally we were standing face to face, still staring into each others eyes, just a few feet apart. I let go of my case, my hands hanging limply at my sides. I was exhausted, from the flying, from the stress, from the sheer enormity of what I was doing. I couldn't take another step. I don't know how long we stood there looking at each other, until finally, finally he moved towards me, reaching over to take my face in his hands. He leaned forward, his eyes locked onto mine, as if he was afraid that if he looked away I would disappear.

I raised one arm, reaching for that spot on the back of his neck that I'd missed so much. His hair was shorter than I remembered but still long enough for me to grab onto a handful. We leaned some more until our foreheads met, and as we stood there silently, I realised I was free. I could do exactly what I wanted to do; I had no history here, no-one knew me, no-one cared at all, except the wonderful man holding on to me. And what I wanted to do, more than anything, was kiss him.

I pulled him hard towards me and crashed my lips against his. The world disappeared. The only things left were his mouth and his tongue, opening up to me, pushing inside me, the roughness of the skin on his jaw, the firm hold of his hands on my face, the silky hair twisted in my fingers. Then he moved his hands from my face to my back and our bodies collided and dear God, the solidity of his chest, the strength of his arms, the hardness of his hips against mine...

We clung to each other, joined at the mouth, desperately reconnecting, oblivious to the stares and comments which I'm sure we deserved. When it got to the point where the grinding against each other was causing us serious issues, we tore our mouths apart, panting and laughing slightly hysterically, both flushing a little red as we came back to reality.

We couldn't let go though, and I pressed my cheek against his, my chin on his shoulder.

"Hey stranger," he whispered against my neck.

"Can we get out of here?" I asked.

It took forever. We half dragged and half carried my bags to a car park that appeared to be several miles from the terminal; it probably didn't help speed things up that we needed to be physically attached to each other the whole time, and had to keep stopping to kiss each other again. I couldn't get enough. I felt like I'd been starving in a desert and was suddenly being offered water, and it was impossible to resist.

The car ride into Manhattan was even worse, because the most contact we could manage was holding hands and the traffic was appalling. Jasper had picked up the keys for me the day before and had checked out the route beforehand, so he drove straight to the parking garage beneath the apartments. When he killed the engine we sat in silence for a minute, still holding hands.

"You came," he said.

I smiled, and nodded.

"You really came," he repeated. "For me."

I nodded again, feeling joy bubbling up inside me, because I knew exactly what he meant.

"For you," I told him.

We grinned at each other for a moment longer before he launched himself out of the car, grabbing my carry-on from the back seat. I hurried to follow him, reaching for the boot to get my suitcase but he blocked me, yanking my hand away from the car and pulling me towards the lift.

"Later," he growled.

I have no idea how we managed to keep our clothes on for the few minutes it took us to get from the garage to the door of the apartment and inside. In fact I have no idea how we found the right apartment and unlocked the door, but somehow we got there and were tearing at each other seconds later, desperate to get to bare skin but unwilling to stop touching and kissing for long enough to get the clothes off.

I couldn't believe how good it felt. All the doubts and second guessing were blown away and I knew I'd made the right decision, if only to be in that moment right then.

We were still standing in the hallway when we finally kicked off the last of our clothes and Jasper pushed me backwards until my bare ass hit the cold wall, the heat of his skin searing as he pressed his whole body into mine. We groaned at the same time as our hard cocks slid against each other and I grabbed his hips, pulling him harder towards me. It was too much, and not nearly enough, his mouth on mine, his hands squeezing and stroking me, the feel of his muscles and skin under my fingers.

When he pulled away we were both gasping, and I couldn't understand why he was stopping. But then he sank to his knees in front of me and I nearly cried.

"I missed you so fucking much," he said, pressing his face into my groin and inhaling deeply.

"Are you talking to me or my cock?" I asked him.

"Both," he muttered, and then he slid his lips over me and neither of us could talk any more.

We had got pretty good at getting each other off over the phone. We'd had some really interesting instant message sessions, and we'd kept each other satisfied. But there's a difference between satisfied and ecstatic, and being back in Jasper's hot, skilful mouth was fucking heavenly. This was where it had all started and I never wanted to leave.

He held on to my hips and swallowed all of me down and I was making all kinds of crazy sounds because it felt so bloody perfect. His tongue seemed to be everywhere as he rocked on his heels in front of me; it was quick and rough and exactly what I needed. I lasted all of about five minutes of sheer bliss before I felt my balls tightening. I didn't even try to hold back because I knew we had all night, and the next night, and all the nights after that. He sensed me tensing up and I swear he sucked harder, digging his fingers into my skin and ramming me into his throat until I erupted into him, groaning and shuddering.

He sat back on his heels and beamed up at me, running a thumb along his lower lip, chasing a stray drop onto his tongue. I wanted him so much, and he was all mine. Despite the shaking in my legs, I held out my hand to pull him to his feet, leaning hard against the wall to steady myself. I pulled him to lean on me and kissed him slowly, sliding my other hand between his legs to cup his balls and curl my hand around his hot cock. He moaned into my mouth and drew back to breathe.

"Come to bed," I whispered.

"It's OK, Edward, you must be exhausted..."

"Are you fucking kidding me?" I interrupted him, my words coming out harsher than I intended. I took a breath and lowered my voice.

"Come to bed and make love to me."

He tilted his head.

"You mean, you want..."

"Yes, I want," I smiled back at him. "I'm here for you. I'm yours. I've been waiting for this for six months."

He stepped back and cast about for his jacket in the mess of clothes scattered on the floor. Then he took my hand and pulled me into the main room of the apartment, before he stopped suddenly.

"Where's the bedroom?"

"How the hell would I know?"

We found the bedroom, and the bed. It hadn't been made but some hurried searching turned up a cupboard full of sheets and comforters, so we just threw a few on the mattress before we fell onto it. Jasper retrieved a condom and a stupid little packet of lube from his jacket; I called him a boy scout until he threatened to make me empty my carry-on bag to prove I hadn't brought some too. Then I shut up.

He went as slow as we could stand, but we both needed it so much it was difficult not to rush ahead. We lay face to face and he pulled my top leg over his hip, holding it behind my knee as we kissed. His still-hard cock pressed into my stomach; his hand slid firmly from my knee up to my ass, rolling the muscle under his palm. He sat up a little to reach behind me to where he had thrown the foils, tearing each one open carefully with his teeth.

My heart was racing again and the sight of him rolling on the condom and coating himself and his fingers was making my cock twitch again. When he was ready he lay back down and stared into my eyes as he reached over me again and touched a cold, slick finger against my hole. I gasped at the contact and he hesitated for just a second before circling and pressing more firmly. I groaned as I felt the tip of his finger disappeared inside me and instinctively pushed against him for more. He closed his eyes briefly as he worked his finger further in, and I knew he was trying to be gentle, but I just couldn't stand waiting any longer.

I threw my arm over his shoulder and yanked myself closer to him, pulling against his hip with my leg. I kissed him as fiercely as I could, trying to show him just how much I needed him, tell him everything I had done to get here, to this moment, here with him. I don't know if he got the message or he just felt the same way I did, but he pumped his finger faster and deeper and I growled with pleasure.

I felt the second finger stretch me but I have no idea if he managed a third because I was just begging him to fuck me in between kissing and biting and licking at every part of his face and neck I could reach. He rolled onto his back, pulling me on top of him and twisting his fingers out of me. I stared at him for a moment as he pushed my chest to make me sit back and then he grasped his cock around the base, pulling it upright. Then I understood and knelt up to let him line up under me, placing my hands on his shoulders for balance.

I pushed down straight away. I pushed down and cried out as he penetrated the tight muscles, burning and stretching, but I didn't stop, because all I wanted was him inside me. He had put me on top to let me control the pain but I didn't care, I knew the faster I got there the quicker it would get better. And it already felt really, really good.

I did wait once he was all in. I wasn't sure I could actually move. I was panting and whimpering, my eyes screwed tight shut. For once, he didn't ask me a stupid question. He did the best possible thing he could have done. He wrapped his fingers around my aching cock and stroked firmly. My whimpers turned to moans and I opened my eyes to find him staring up at me in wonder.

"You're just fucking amazing," he blurted out.

I struggled to catch my breath enough to speak.

"Not so bad yourself," I said.

He sat up as I leaned forward and our mouths crashed together again. I found the strength to move my hips and he bucked up into me, meeting every downward stroke with a powerful thrust. I had to stop kissing him because I was yelling every time he slammed into me, ramming my prostate over and over, his hand moving in the same rhythm over my cock until I thought I was going to lose my mind. The muscles in my legs were screaming and in the end it was all I could do to hold still while he pumped upwards faster and faster, grunting with the effort, shouting at me that he couldn't hold on, that it felt too good, that he loved me...

I came so hard I was still shaking ten minutes later. After I'd coated his chest in hot white lines, after he'd screamed my name as he pulsed inside me, after we'd collapsed together no longer able to speak, after he held me so tightly in his arms, my face buried in his neck. At some point later we peeled apart; Jasper looked around for something to clean up with, but there wasn't anything, so he gave up and lay back, looking thoroughly messed up and utterly satisfied.

"You're a noisy bastard, you know that?" he said.

"Oh yeah, and you're really quiet too," I replied, not looking up. I wasn't sure I was ever going to be able to move again.

"So are we going back to my place later?" he asked.

"Yeah, later," I mumbled. A lot later. Maybe next week.

~o0~O~0o~

2 years later

"EDWARD!"

I could hear Jasper yelling up the stairs at me. We were going to be late, but I wasn't quite ready to go yet. I fidgeted with my tie and wandered aimlessly around the bedroom, picking up photographs to look at them closely, straightening Jasper's stack of books so they all lined up.

"Edward, get your ass down here," he shouted from a little closer.

I sighed and raked my hand through my hair again. Best to get it over with. The party was for me, after all. When I had handed in my notice at work, there had been a great deal of shock, and they had offered me all kinds of incentives to stay. But I knew that I needed to move on, and they had eventually given up and told me they were throwing a big party for me on my last day. I had already handed back the keys to my company apartment, having packed up the few belongings that were still left there over the previous month. I had headed over to Jasper's place at lunchtime, figuring they could live without me for the last afternoon of my contract, but now we were heading back into Manhattan. I walked down the stairs, tugging at my cuffs so they showed properly under my jacket sleeves, to find Jasper waiting for me at the bottom. He smiled at me indulgently and straightened up the tie that I had pulled over to the side.

"Ready?" he asked.

I nodded, and he kissed my cheek. We walked to the car that the company had sent for us, hand in hand. Jasper had already loaded my cases in the trunk; the driver had been waiting for half an hour, but he didn't comment. We didn't talk much on the drive; I reflected on the last two years.

It hadn't been an easy transition. I spent the first six months working like crazy, needing to get the office properly established so it wouldn't get closed down before it started. I barely surfaced, working evenings and weekends. It sometimes felt like I spent less time communicating with Jasper than I had when we lived on different continents.

When we did have time together, Jasper liked to go out, and I mostly wanted to stay in. I missed Bella and my friends, and found it hard to get to know new people. He knew everyone in this big, crazy, complicated scene, and seemed to have slept with half of them. A lot of them found it hard to accept that he was off limits; some resented me and some simply ignored it and he spent a lot of time fending them off. He took it all with good humour, but I hated it.

While it was a huge relief to be able to be with Jasper in public and feel completely natural about it, I found the whole scene really uncomfortable. There were simply no circumstances under which I would be interested in dancing and flirting with the guys that Jasper hung out with. I tolerated it because I didn't want Jasper to have to change his lifestyle because of me, but it caused a lot of aggravation when I was tired and moody. We argued, a lot. At the start, Jasper wouldn't disagree with me; he would get all quiet and sulky instead of saying what he really thought. When I pushed him, he admitted to being scared that I would change my mind and leave.

Jasper pulled me out of my thoughts as we arrived at the venue, snapping his fingers in front of my eyes. He knew I hated this kind of thing, being the centre of attention at some fancy event, but he would be in his element and I felt better knowing he was there to support me. We left my cases in the car, as the driver would be taking me straight to the airport after the party to catch the red-eye to London.

The party was pretty much as expected, more of a networking opportunity for the new director than anything in my honour. Not that I cared. I did my bit as required, making introductions, thanking members of my team, chatting up clients. I listened to the bland words from my successor and accepted a soulless gift that would never see the light of day in my home. Jasper was never far from my side, not intruding but ready to rescue me when he could see me flagging. It wasn't ideal to be doing this and flying out on the same night, but it was just how things had worked out.

It was finally late enough for me to escape, and we slipped away without a fuss, saying final goodbyes to a few close friends. Jasper rode with me to the airport, still holding my hand all the way, rubbing circles with his thumb. He didn't come into the terminal with me, we had decided he would take advantage of the car ride home rather than having to shell out for a taxi later. He helped me get my cases to the curb and we stood awkwardly, chest to chest, not really wanting to say the words, but knowing we had to.

"It's only a month," he said, eventually.

"I know," I nodded, leaning my forehead against his.

"We can talk on the phone," he reminded me, smirking suggestively.

I laughed. He was still incorrigible. And I still couldn't get enough.

"I'll see you in a month," I said.

"You better get our place sorted before I arrive," he said.

"I will," I promised. "You sure you want to do this?"

"It's a bit late for that," he said. "Unless you're changing your mind?"

I kissed him lightly on the cheek.

"Shut up," I told him.

"Fuck off then," he countered.

I pulled his hand to my mouth and kissed his knuckles, and told him I loved him, before turning to walk into the terminal. I didn't turn back to look at him and I had no tears in my eyes. I knew I wouldn't change my mind. I hadn't been so sure about anything since... well, since.