A/N: This is a tiny little outtake that I wrote for my gorgeous and talented co-author Chele681 on her birthday. If you like it, you should head on over to her profile and read her story, Hard as a Rock, which is a prequel to this one and a fantastic read.

I don't own anything. Stephenie Meyer is the Queen of Twi. These boys aren't entirely mine either. Chele owns a great deal of their awesome.

Emmett and Jake: The Aftermath

"Emm." Jake's voice startled me out of my focused non-concentration. I considered myself lucky that I had gotten a good look at Mexico on the trip down, or I might have felt guilty for letting the landscape pass me blindly by on the way home.

"Mmm," I hummed in response, my thoughts still not entirely present.

"Listen." Jake sounded hesitant and serious - both of which made tiny little alarm bells go off in my head. "I know I'm probably breaking some unwritten dude-code by talking about this, but I figure we've already broken some unwritten dude-code this week."

I shifted uncomfortably in my seat. Oh. That. Like I could forget.

"Have you ever..." Jake trailed off, leaving me to fill in the big awkward blank.

"Participated in a threeway with my best friend and a gorgeous Latina? No." I decided being blunt was the way to go here.

Jake didn't take his eyes off the road but I knew he was glaring. I never failed to take pleasure in torturing him, even if it was somewhat at my own expense.

"Thanks for clearing that up, dipshit, but I wasn't exactly referring to that."

"Dude, just because we had group sex doesn't mean I can read your mind now. Spit it out."

A short pause. "That's what he said," we announced in unison and started laughing and grunting like the frat boys we were.

The tension seemed to be broken, so Jake pushed forward. "A guy. Have you ever been with a guy before?"

I felt a familiar lump rise in my throat at the thought of him. I wondered what would happen to that lump if I ever spoke of him aloud. "Yup," I whispered, leaning my head back against the seat and letting the warm spring air tickle my face as it rushed in the car.

Jake didn't probe any further. I knew he wasn't judging, and I knew our friendship remained intact, but somehow, having him know that tiny detail, made the lump seem easier to deal with.

After a mile or two of listening to the sound of the of the Mexican breeze rattle the wheelcaps on Thumper, and seeing messy blonde hair and pouty lips prance around in my mind, I managed to say the name that I hadn't spoken aloud in two years.

"Jasper. His name was Jasper."