A/N: Happy Birthday, Shalu! I intended to write just a few drabbles, but these boys had something to say. Hope you enjoy it, and that you have a great day.
Thank you EchoingSilence for prompts, and SorceressCirce for prompts as well as betaing.
As always, Twilight owns me, not the other way around.
Music’s thumping in the background; bodies are swaying to the beat amid cups strewn all over the place. All the makings of an excellent party, yet all I want to do is hide.
Jasper’s had one too many – more than, really – and has been going around, hugging all our friends, muttering to them. Each of them laughs it off, shaking heads in amusement.
I can hear him still.
“I love you, man.”
I want nothing more than to say those words to him, but I don’t. He doesn’t mean it the way I want him to. He couldn’t.
The night goes on. I drink too much, trying to chase the sharp pain I feel with every touch, every slurred word, every look that comes from Jasper.
I’ve been in love with him for so long that it’s almost second nature now to hide it from him, though I don’t hide who I am – haven’t for years.
More than pleasantly buzzed, I go in search of a refill.
What I find is Jasper, dancing by himself to a beat all his own.
All I can do is watch – mesmerized.
He looks up, lazy grin in place.
“Dance with me.”
Part of me is screaming, “Don’t do it!”
Part of me is begging, “Please do!”
I know I shouldn’t. It isn’t right, knowing that he’s straight – that he’ll probably regret this, if he even remembers it.
But I can’t help myself.
We’re dancing much closer than any sober straight guy would. I can feel almost every inch of him against me.
And I mean every inch.
His hands are on my hips, my arms somehow ending up around his neck.
He’s flushed, his lips pursed, his eyes closed in blissful, drunken peace you find only when you let everything go.
My body responds too eagerly to his – every grind, push, pull.
Every sigh, held back moan, soft whimper.
My eyes are on him. I can’t look away, transfixed by him.
His lids slide open – slowly – revealing the stormy grey behind them, blazing with something I never thought to see reflected back.
Not from him.
His whispered, “Edward…” is almost forgotten as soon as his lips find mine.
A small voice tries to stop me, tells me this is just the alcohol.
But I pull him closer, kiss him back.
I listen to the devil, ignoring the angel on my shoulder.
My heart’s hammering in my chest. I’d never imagined that I’d feel his lips on mine.
That I’d ever know his taste, how he feels so right against me.
My wildest dreams come true in this instant, and for this one moment, I allow myself to pretend – just for a second, as his lips move sensually with mine.
He loves me, too.
He wants to be more than just friends.
But then he pulls away slowly, breathlessly, dazed, and the moment is gone.
The best kiss I’ve ever had – the only one I’d ever truly wanted – is over.
I open my mouth to speak, needing to fill the empty void that hangs between us.
“Here you are…” Emmett’s voice trails off, interrupting me.
Jasper blinks, shaking his head as if still in a daze, and walks off without a single word. I see him grab another beer before he’s out of sight.
Emmett clasps my shoulder, mumbling, “Sorry, Ed, didn’t mean to…”
I sigh, staring down as I shuffle my feet.
“It’s okay, Em. You didn’t know.”
I don’t see Jasper again for the duration of the party.
Emmett drops me off at home, apologizing repeatedly.
“Where’s Jasper? Anyone hear from him lately?” Alice asks, biting into a bread stick.
We’re all sitting around the table, enjoying our bi-weekly dinner at Olive Garden.
She glances at the others – Emmett, Rosalie, Bella. They all shake their heads.
Bella frowns. “No, he was supposed to help me fix the shed last week, but he never showed. I tried calling him, but-“
I can’t listen anymore. Pushing my chair back, I walk outside, desperately needing air.
Feeling sick, I lean against the wall.
It’s my fault.
I fucked things up between us.
He can’t even face me…
Time goes by quickly, yet seems to drag.
All I know for certain is that the next dinner we have, Jasper’s still not there.
No one’s seen him.
No one’s talked to him.
I’ve tried calling, but only ever get his answering machine. I can’t bring myself to leave any messages, so I always hang up.
I don’t know what to do. We’ve never been out of contact for this long; our group is so close-knit. Have been since middle school.
It scares me to think I’ve destroyed not just my friendship with Jasper, but that of everyone else’s, too.
My breath catches at the sound of Jasper’s voice when I pick up my phone. I’d answered without checking the caller ID, and my surprise – and hesitation – is clear in my voice. “Jasper?”
How are you?
Why haven’t you called?
Do you hate me?
I can’t bring myself to say any of it. Instead, I sit back, running my fingers through my hair as I sigh.
He clears his throat. “Can we…” He huffs. “Would you have coffee with me, Edward? I-I’d like to – need to talk.”
His voice is uncertain, wavering.
I bite my lip, thinking.
I get to our favorite haunt first, ordering our usual beverages of choice – Irish cream breve for me, hazelnut mocha for him.
By the time the order’s up, Jasper walks in.
Perfect timing, as always.
Offering him his drink and a small smile, we take a seat.
Silence reigns for too long. I shift uncomfortably in my chair, sipping my coffee.
His voice is timid, small, vulnerable. “Do you remember that night, Ed? The party?”
Swallowing thickly, I nod. Half-fearing, half-curious as to what’s next. I can’t get any read on him at all, his eyes fixed on his hands.
When he asks if I remember what happened that night, part of me wants to deny it. To claim I’d been too drunk. That I can’t recall a thing.
I can’t bring myself to lie. Not to him.
Putting my cup down, I sigh. “Yes. I remember, Jasper.”
His eyes flicker to mine briefly. He frowns, blushing a little. “Did…that mean anything…to you?”
I stare at him, wanting to scream, “Yes! It meant the world to me! I’ve been in love with you for years! How could you not know or realize that?”
But I don’t.
I don’t know how to take his question. I’m afraid that telling him the truth will scare him away.
That it will pull away those final walls between us.
I don’t want to lose him, even as a friend. The past few weeks were difficult enough, but a lifetime without him?
His eyes meet mine, beseeching me. “Please? I need to know…”
Closing my eyes, I take a wavering breath; heat rises on my cheeks.
I’m not sure I can do this – admit to being in love with him all this time.
I whisper, “Yes. It did, Jasper. So much…I-“
My mouth closes abruptly, unable to finish saying the words. I just can’t bring myself to lay myself bare to him like that.
Frowning, I turn my head away from him, unwilling to see what I’m sure will be reproach – or worse – in his eyes, certain he’ll think I took advantage of him.
I hear him shift, his chair scraping lightly along the linoleum.
The sudden warmth of his skin as he takes my hand in his startles me enough that I look back at him.
My eyes search his, my heart beating a mile a minute in frantic anticipation.
He takes a deep breath, smiling hesitantly as he squeezes my hand. “I’m sorry it took me so long.”
Tilting my head, I look at him questioningly.
He sighs, running his free hand through his hair. “After that night…I went away for a while. To think. It…it confused me, that kiss – the way it felt. The way you felt as we danced.”
He gives a small, crooked smile. “I’ve always loved you, Ed; you know that. I just never thought about you in those terms. Or any guy. And you know my dating history…”
Jasper’s had a few girlfriends over the years, but none ever last very long.
His parents’ marriage is his role model, something he strives to achieve. Any girl would have to live up to the image he has.
None have managed so far.
It’s something we’ve talked about often over the years. The girls he’s been with have never seemed like much to me, so I’ve never given it much thought.
Apparently, neither had he.
Perfection is hard to live up to, but he refuses to settle for anything less. That’s just him.
I’m always left, watching on the sidelines.
He shifts our hands, lacing his fingers carefully through mine. I try not to think about how intimate this feels – how warm his skin is or how I want his hands elsewhere on my body.
Our gazes lock as he swallows nervously. “Ed…I…”
He averts his eyes and sighs. His voice is much lower now. “Actually, that’s not quite true…”
He falls silent, and fear grips my heart again.
“What isn’t?” I rasp out.
He looks at me, silently pleading for me to understand. “That I never thought of you like that.”
My eyes widen in surprise – in hope.
Hearing him admit to having fantasies about me, to being afraid of how life would change, to having to give up the ideal created for him…it’s surreal.
His family’s reaction.
Our individual futures. Whatever life we might make for ourselves if we got together.
Pipe dreams. Fears. Impossibilities.
He seems earnest as he says, “But I want that, Ed. I can admit it now…I have to, or I’ll never be able to find happiness. I want to be with you, to face life with you.”
Something inside me releases at his words – stirring to life, seeking the sun.
Before I throw myself headlong into a fantasy come to life, I have to know.
“Jas, I want you, too…God, for so long now, but…I can’t…I can’t be some experiment, Jasper. It’d shatter me if that’s what-“
I don’t get to finish my sentence as he grabs my face, kissing me soundly. At first, I’m too surprised to react.
Then I kiss him back, my fingers tangling in his hair, anchoring myself to him – afraid that if I let go, I’ll find myself adrift, lost.
This time, I’m the one who’s dazed as he pulls back, grinning.
His thumbs brush my cheekbones as he whispers, “It’s not. I swear it’s not, Edward.”
I fight the urge to pinch myself to make sure I’m actually awake, that this is real and not a dream.
Taking my hand in his again, he sits back, his eyes on mine as he tells me about driving to the coast on his bike and staying at a bed and breakfast, taking long walks along the beach to clear his mind.
About taking stock of his life – reevaluating it.
He apologizes for worrying me. “I just needed time away, by myself, you know?”
I nod in understanding.
He’s always needed to be alone and close to nature to do his heavy thinking – and figuring out who you are definitely falls under that header.
Lacing our fingers together again, he looks at our hands, smiling softly. He speaks so quietly that I almost miss it. “This feels…right…doesn’t it?”
He glances up through his eyelashes, a slight blush visible on his cheeks.
I nod again, because it does feel right, and I want it.
So much so, it’s almost painful. Especially with him apparently within my reach.
I ask, “Are you sure, Jasper?”
He grins, crossing his heart with two fingers and winking. “Absolutely.”
I shake my head, laughing – feeling somewhere between disbelief and awe that this is happening.
We sit and talk for a while longer, finishing our coffees as we do. The entire time, we’re touching. Where before, we’d casually place a hand on a shoulder, or something equally friend-like, now we’re holding hands, bumping knees, caressing faces.
The need to connect is almost overwhelming.
When I’ve taken my last sip of my coffee, he grins, leans in, and wipes his thumb over my lips before taking it in his mouth.
A groan escapes me at the sight, and I shift uncomfortably in my seat, trying to adjust myself without being too obvious.
Jasper’s eyes narrow slightly, a grin quirking up at his mouth as he sucks the pad of his thumb – slowly, deliberately, teasingly.
It’s one of the most seductive sights I’ve seen in a long time, and I suddenly find myself wishing we weren’t in a public place.
He gets up, holding out his hand as he asks huskily, “Let’s get out of here?”
I don’t even think twice. I grab his hand and stalk out of the cafe.
How we get to my place in one piece, I’m not sure. We’ve taken my car, since he’d used the bus to get downtown – he hates traffic and the everlasting hunt for a parking space.
I don’t remember driving – just the need to get us home.
I’m fumbling with my keys because Jasper keeps kissing and nipping at the skin below my ear, his hands running along my sides as he presses against me.
“Jesus…” I mumble through a groan.
Finally, the door opens.
He pushes us forward, never letting go of me – pausing only to flip the lock again.
Holding me with my back to him, his breath fans hotly over my ear as he whispers, “Ed, please tell me you want this to happen. Tell me this is alright…”
Shivering, I turn in his arms so I can look in his eyes. Cradling his face in my hands, I press my lips to his. “God, yes. More than, baby…”
He smiles, kissing me hungrily as he guides us to the bedroom, shedding clothes along the way.
The need I feel for him – from him – is intoxicating. I love that, in spite of everything, he’s taking charge.
We stare at each other for a moment, absorbing details of the other’s body. It’s not that we haven’t seen each other naked over the years – it’d be impossible not to, since we had the same classes throughout middle and high school.
But this is different.
It’s okay to look, to touch, to taste – oh God, to taste!
With a whimper, I find myself on my knees, hands on his hips, and my eyes on the prize.
Glancing up at him, I plead silently. His hoarse, “Please,” is all the confirmation I need.
I run my nose along his length.
Jasper shivers as I take him in my mouth, a strangled noise escaping him, spurring me on.
His fingers tangle in my hair – now tugging lightly at the strands, then lovingly scratching my scalp. He whispers incoherently, letting me know how good this feels.
I revel in it.
Each moan, cry, and oath is my reward.
I relax my throat, taking him deep, swallowing around him. The string of curses spilling from his lips makes me squirm.
He grabs my shoulders, pulling me up with a mumbled, “Jesus Christ, Edward!”
Kissing me, he moans at the faint taste of himself.
Lying on my bed, facing each other, we’re a tangled mess of limbs as we kiss, caress, discover.
I marvel at the feel of him under my fingertips – all lean muscle, quiet power, feline grace, wrapped up in soft skin.
Hand on my hip, he pushes me onto my back and follows, hovering over me. The heat of him the only thing that touches as he holds himself up.
His eyes bore down to my very soul as he says hoarsely, “I want you, Ed. I want to be inside of you… Please? Please, will you let me?”
His fingers move slowly; the burn of an intrusion I’ve not had in far too long is welcome.
He’s sure in his actions. I don’t ask him how he knows – I don’t want to hear the answer.
I just want to feel, to experience this first with him.
Too soon, and not soon enough, he has me writhing, begging him for more.
He complies, pulling away to prepare himself.
I stop him; our gazes lock. “Please, let me..?”
The need to have this connection, this grounding between us, is too strong for me to ignore. Within moments, we’re both ready.
He’s slow, tender, and careful, but for all his preparation and care, that initial burn as his head passes the tight ring of muscles still makes me hiss.
Panting with the effort to hold still, he grits out, “Ed..?”
I know what he’s asking, and – taking a deep breath – I relax. My hands on his hips guide him further until we’re as connected as two human beings can be.
We stay like that – hip to hip, mouth to mouth – until the urge to move becomes too much and we both begin to rock back and forth, finding a comfortable rhythm.
I whimper as he pulls out, causing him to chuckle. I can’t help it; he feels too good inside of me, and I’m not ready to lose this connection with him.
Not even for an instant.
Putting his hands under my knees, he pushes, folding me in half. He enters me again; I half-moan, half-sigh as he fills me with so much more than just his dick.
It doesn’t take long before I’m too lost in sensation to know up or down anymore.
I know only him – inside of me, his fingers curled around me; his skin under my fingers.
His voice is strained, and it’s him begging now. “Please, Ed, please…I need you to…I can’t… Oh God, please come, baby…”
His quiet, desperate plea, combined with what his hips and hand are doing to my body, is all I need.
It’s as if everything has gone white – the light behind my closed lids, the noise in my ears, even my thoughts.
How long I’m gone, I don’t know, but when I come back to my senses, Jasper is whispering in between kisses how beautiful I am.
I’m shaking, my limbs so loose I can scarcely move them.
Wrapping my arms tightly around him, I hold him close – welcoming the weight of him on me.
He hums, nuzzling my neck as he awkwardly holds onto me.
A heartbeat. Two. Three.
Pressing his lips below my ear, he murmurs, “Ed? I love you, man.”
I close my eyes, letting his words sink in – penetrating my soul as much as he’s just done my body.
This time, I know he means them in the way I want him to.
This time, I don’t need to pretend.
This time, I can say it back.
“I love you, too, Jasper.”