|Afternoon of a Faun
Author: Elvelethril-'Elvey PM
When Jasper accidentally leaves behind a piece of clothing one day, Edward suddenly finds that he is unable to keep his hands to himself. Rated M for citrusy stuff. Judges' Pick for Best Wank in the Slash Backslash Contest.Rated: Fiction M - English - Friendship/Romance - Edward & Jasper - Words: 5,124 - Reviews: 40 - Favs: 69 - Follows: 19 - Published: 11-23-09 - Status: Complete - id: 5530366
|A+ A- Full 3/4 1/2 Expand Tighten|
SLASH BACKSLASH ONE-SHOT CONTEST
Story Name: Afternoon of a Faun
Pen name: Elvelethril
Disclaimer: I own nothing!
To see the other entries in the "SLASH BACKSLASH" contest, please visit the C2: http ://www. fanfiction. net/c2/74941/3/0/0/
Debussy, Debussy, Debussy...
Slowly I trailed my finger along the backs of the CDs, failing to locate the one I wanted, Debussy's L'Après-Midi d'un Faun. It wasn't always an easy task to find a specific piece of music in my room. There was just so much of it - an entire wall with built-in shelves plus neat little stacks scattered all over the room - and I had never gotten around to putting them in any particular kind of order. The solution seemed simple. I mean, why couldn't I just decide on whether to sort them by title, composer or genre? The closest I came to any semblance of order was that my favorites were mainly stationed on the middle shelves of the wall, where it was easiest for my eyes and hands to reach them, and in the various piles. But not being able to remember when I had last listened to L'Après-Midi d'un Faun, I had no idea where it was placed now. It could be anywhere. I decided on giving up on my quest and just enjoy the silence instead.
A silence that was sort of emphasized by my knowledge of having the house completely to myself. Emmett was at Rosalie's and probably wouldn't be home until sometime tonight, and Mom and Dad were still at work.
I slumped into my favorite armchair, the one that faced the big panorama window, giving me an excellent view of the world outside. It had been snowing for the past two days but today there was a frosty blue sky and the sun was shining on the snow-covered... everything outside, making the entire world sparkle like diamonds. Beautiful but also initially painful to look at - a sharp pang right behind the eyes indicating that your pupils needed a little more time to adjust to the brightness.
Though it was absolutely freezing out there, my room was cozily warm. The sun added pleasantly to the warmth, although it held no power outside.
I stretched out my legs and sank deeper into the chair. This was really nice. Sunlight was a rare gift in Forks, particularly this time of year, and the weather forecast had already warned us of renewed snowfalls from tomorrow morning.
And Jasper had forgotten his scarf.
I turned my head and looked at it as it lay piled on my desk chair. Right where I had put it when I entered my room earlier.
I hadn't meant to take it with me. It just sort of... happened.
It was right after History. The only class we had together, and also the last one of the day. My seat was right behind his and I was almost surprised that he hadn't rubbed his neck - which should be sore as intensely as I was staring at it, practically burning a hole - turned around or done anything at all to indicate that he knew what I was thinking. Not that I wasn't relieved that he didn't. I mean, I really didn't want to be obvious, but on the other hand I was just desperate for him to notice me. Though also entirely unable to strike or keep up any kind of conversation with him, unless that awkward croaking that had come out of my mouth those few times he'd talked to me counted for anything. I'd been absolutely mortified. I wanted to talk to him so badly but when a chance presented itself my mind went completely blank and nothing came out. If I could just tell him the things that were on my mind, then perhaps afterwards I'd be able to act a bit normal. But initiating a conversation with "I love the sound of your laughter" or "every morning I wake up hoping to catch a glimpse of you" or anything else along those lines just wasn't an option.
So I pined. And cherished this class where I had him in my view for an entire hour. I only regretted that I couldn't see his eyes from this position.
When he'd entered the room he had looked flushed. He'd probably been outside enjoying the sun during the break and I was instantly jealous of the cold biting into the plumpness of his cheeks and making them redden slightly. He wore a green scarf around his neck and it set off his sparkly eyes, making them look a beautiful shade of green though I'd never been able to actually determine which color they really were. For a second they settled on me, accompanied by a huge grin on his face. I think I managed to make something that resembled a smile in response but suddenly all I could think was 'God, I want to lick his teeth.' I gave myself a big mental smack over the head.
He hung the scarf on the back of his chair, looking up at me for a moment as he adjusted it so it wouldn't slide to the floor, and then our teacher called for attention and I had to settle for the view of the back of his neck and those blond curls.
While I absent-mindedly scribbled down notes from the class, I fell into musings, my eyes darting back and forth between him, my notebook and the blackboard. His hair looked perfect. I suddenly wanted to grab it and mess it up thoroughly, wanted to make an impact on him somehow. How he managed to keep those curls in full control the entire day, when I could barely manage to make my straight hair comply just a little, completely went over my head. I shook my head and tried to concentrate on the notes. What did I care about my hair anyway? I'd noticed girls looking me over no matter how it looked so I guessed I was an okay-looking guy.
But what was okay-looking compared to fucking gorgeous?
Fucking gorgeous and clever. Or at least he was in this class, which was all I had to pin my conclusion on. If I hadn't been so smitten by him I would have been jealous. Often his hand shot to the air when a question was asked, instead of waiting to be addressed specifically the way I was - or perhaps trying to avoid being asked was a more accurate way to describe it - and volunteered elaborate answers that sounded well thought-through. Plus our teacher had started looking at him with that certain look of personal victory they all got when they found that special student sharing their field of interest.
As the bell rang us to freedom students jumped out of their seats, pumped with a fresh burst of energy now that they knew they were free for the day. But I took my time tucking everything neatly into my bag. I never left before Jasper did, because obviously that would deprive me of those last few moments of looking at him.
As he rose I saw him take out his phone and check for messages. Apparently he read something that put him in a hurry because he quickly gathered all his stuff and was out the door before I even registered what had happened. And then I noticed it. The scarf was still hanging on his chair. I looked around to see if anyone else had noticed as well but by now the room was almost abandoned and those few left certainly didn't pay any attention to it.
Casually I rose, a little hesitant and feeling almost guilty before I'd even touched it. Almost of their own volition, my fingers closed around the fabric. For a second I just stood there and then I realized that I had to find Jasper and return it immediately. Hell, maybe I'd even be able to form a coherent sentence now that I had a purpose. It was worth a shot. Quickly I grabbed the rest of my stuff and left the classroom. As I entered the hallway I saw him at the opposite end just as he disappeared out the entrance door. Holding the scarf in one hand I picked up the pace and wove my way around people not moving fast enough.
Squinting against the sun outside my eyes took several seconds seeking him out. He was making his way across the parking lot. I had almost picked up the courage to call out his name when out of nowhere a tiny dark-haired girl came bouncing towards him, practically jumping into his welcoming arms. I stopped dead in my tracks.
I watched as they made their way to his car, chatting animatedly. Feeling as if I'd been glued to the ground I just stood there until they drove off.
"Jasper, you forgot your scarf," I whispered into the frosty air, my breath ghosting out in front of me as it left my mouth.
Suddenly realizing how cold it was just standing there, a shiver ran through my body and I slowly set in motion, making a right turn towards my own car, my boots crunching on the snow-covered ground as I walked.
Once inside I immediately dropped the scarf on the passenger seat, refusing to look at it or touch it again until I could return it to its rightful owner.
I carefully chanced a glance at it where it was residing right now, on my desk chair.
Once parked in the garage I'd given up and taken it with me inside anyway. Clutching it tightly on the short walk, because that way I actually felt less of it than if I'd held it loosely and allowed my fingers to register the texture of it.
I sighed and stretched in my chair, trying with my entire being to let this go and just relax. Things usually had a way of working themselves out. I focused my gaze back on the sunlit snow outside. Sun, yes. Lovely. Looove. Ly.
I unclenched my jaw and gave up. A quarter of a second later I was back in my arm chair, scarf in hand. It was so soft. Nothing like the long, woolly knitted scarves I usually wore that wrapped at least three times around my neck and still left the ends dangling down my back. It was big, though. A three foot wide square I estimated as I unfolded it and held it up against the sunlight. A subtle pattern was woven into the fabric. I let it drop into my lap and closed my eyes, my fingertips unable to stop touching it now that they'd begun.
What would it be like running my fingertips over Jasper's skin?
Images started forming in my head. At first they were no more than fragmentary glimpses. A hand, flash of teeth, eyes with little smile lines at the corners. Curly hair... my hand reached out to touch those curls. He had his back to me. Slowly I let my fingers slide through his hair until they reached the skin at the nape of his neck. I imagined I heard a sigh as he leaned his head to the side, exposing the soft stretch between his ear and shoulder. I ran my fingertips over his skin in small circles. I could feel and see the goosebumps as they formed on his neck, continuing out on his shoulder and down his arm. I shivered and opened my eyes.
Staring straight out the window I pretended I wasn't about to do what my subconscious had already decided for me.
I took a few breaths and tried to quell the urge that left me embarrassed just considering it. It was so wrong, yet I just had to know. Had to know what he smelled like.
I pressed the scarf to my face and inhaled deeply. As I took my time registering the different smells in it, the image of Jasper shimmered and then became even stronger. There was sweat, his sweat, his very scent, cologne, as well as plain fresh air in it.
It was divine. I wanted to drown in it. Draping the scarf over my head - and silently thanking whatever deity might be responsible for giving me an afternoon home alone and not letting anyone walk in on me while I was sitting here looking like some weird green ghost - I leaned back and felt the presence of Jasper envelop me completely.
In my fantasy he had turned around and was now facing me. He looked as if he was about to laugh. The smile curling mischievously at the corner of his mouth slowly became wider and wider until he finally revealed the rows of perfect pearly-white teeth completely. I leaned forward and let my tongue run slowly along the top row. Mmm, they felt just like I thought they would, and he tasted good.
For a few moments he didn't move, only smiled impossibly wider, but then he drew back slightly, looking me straight in the eye. His eyes really were green I suddenly noticed. I gulped and then his mouth was on mine, kissing me with a fervor that almost had me reeling. Everything was tongues playing, lips sucking, breaths intermingling, and a bit of helpless flailing on my part. I desperately needed somewhere to put my hands and after holding my right hand poised in the air just behind his head for a moment I let my fingers curl into his hair, moving them with the rhythm set by our kissing.
My left hand drifted down towards the rapidly growing bulge in my pants. I unbuttoned the first two buttons before realizing what I was doing and willed myself to stop.
I panted heavily against Fantasy Jasper as I tried to pull back, resting my nose against his for a second, but he wasn't about to be chased away and took hold of the front of my shirt, pulling me even closer.
I sighed deeply and felt the scarf move against my face in a little rippling motion.
A third button was undone.
Jasper looked satisfied with my decision and began rubbing himself against me.
I couldn't help it. I had to touch myself. Undoing the last few buttons I indulged in the imagery of Jasper rubbing against me and pretended it was his pants I was opening. I didn't dare look down as I moved my palm over his hardness.
Lifting my hips slightly I pushed down my pants and boxers a few inches, just enough to let my cock spring free and not get any chafing from either.
As I let my head drop back, the scarf moved with it, softly touching the sensitive skin of my cock. I nearly jumped in my seat, effectively bringing myself back to reality. Batting the fabric away with my hand I sat for a few moments, this time seriously debating whether to continue or not. I never reached a conclusion, though, because suddenly I became aware of the sun's rays warming my skin in places it had never been warmed before like that, basically because I'd never done any sunbathing in the nude. It was... really nice, actually. I lifted the scarf from my eyes with one hand and took a peek down at my cock, the sun shining on it. The tip was glistening. I pushed my pants down below my knees and spread my legs. The sun was heating the insides of my thighs now as well as my balls. Heating me the way perhaps Jasper's hands would if he were to touch me there. Taking hold of my cock I slowly began moving my hand up and down, up and down, little flick of the wrist, down and up, and soon as I closed my eyes Jasper's hands were roaming hungrily over my skin, thumbs digging into my thighs.
My breathing quickened as I pumped myself and the scarf moved continuously against my face. I had to feel it all over my body.
Swallowing hard, I ripped it from my eyes and got up from the chair. Careful not to trip in my pants I made my way to the bed and spread out the scarf right on the middle of it. Then I undressed completely, for a moment standing full frontal in the sun, and then I crawled onto the bed, lowered myself onto the scarf and buried my nose deeply in it. Caressingly I let my hands move over its soft surface, my entire body undulating slowly, reveling in the feel of it against my nakedness.
Immersed completely in the scent of Jasper now, I imagined I felt a slight dip on the side of the bed as he crawled onto it. The sun's warmth on my back became the heat of his skin as he laid down on top of me, pressing me harder into the mattress. He covered me from head to toe, even matching the position of his arms to mine. I could feel his hard, naked length between my buttocks.
As he nuzzled his nose into the hair behind my ear, his breath came in hot, short gusts down my neck. He placed open-mouthed kisses on my skin and I couldn't keep from squirming. The squirming turned into thrusting the more the friction of my cock against the fabric excited me.
He ran a hand down my side, brushing across my ribs on his way, and then his palm settled on my thigh right below the hip and I thrust harder, picking up the pace. A slight sheen of sweat covered my skin. I panted heavily and clawed at the scarf, grabbing it tightly in handfuls. I was coming undone, and fast.
I slipped a hand underneath myself, gripping my cock and stroking it to match the pace Fantasy Jasper was setting. He was moving on top of me, sliding on my sweaty back, his cock squeezed between my thighs and the faster he thrust the faster I stroked. Our moans were one, becoming louder and louder until I felt the cry about to burst from my lips as I neared my peak. Sucking on it desperately at first I managed to grab hold of the scarf with my teeth and chewed down hard on it as I came in an explosion of white, the orgasm soaring through me. It felt as if I was coming forever, my body spasming wildly and my breath hitching in my throat.
Slowly coming down from my high I opened my mouth to release the scarf from my teeth and seized the opportunity to take a shuddering breath. I was spent, unable to move as much as a muscle I just lay there utterly satiated.
I was about to drift off to sleep when suddenly reality started to press in on me. Something wasn't right, what was it? I peeped open one eye and lifted my head slightly, feeling somewhat foggy-brained. And then it hit me.
Frantically I crawled up onto all fours moving away backwards as fast as I could without stumbling to the floor.
No no no NO!! This did not just happen!
Catching my balance and standing up straight at the foot of the bed I slapped my face and unwillingly looked down at the mess I'd just made. A big wet spot on the scarf showed exactly where I had been nestling my cock, the cum still pooling there, though a lot of it seemed to have seeped through to my bedspread underneath as well, and another wet spot indicated the part of the fabric that I'd had in my mouth, sucking on it. I had probably been sweating all over it as well but that wasn't as easily detected and those two telltale spots definitely took all the attention anyway.
I groaned. How could I have been so stupid? Creaming myself while fantasizing about Jasper Hale was fine - fucking fantastic actually - but doing so all over his scarf was just about the dumbest thing ever. I gritted my teeth and tugged angrily at my sweaty hair with a sticky hand, cursing myself with a repeated idiot, idiot, idiot.
Should I wash it? It wasn't like I had that many other options. I sure as hell couldn't return it like it was now. But wouldn't he notice it if it smelled differently? Mom's washing detergent didn't exactly smell like sweat and cologne. What if he thought I washed it because it smelled bad! And then he'd know I had been sniffing it in the first place!
Throw it away? I was outraged at myself for even thinking that.
Hide it and live in denial? I snatched the scarf, bundled it in my hands and threw it under the bed.
Some frantic pacing around the room later - during which I had taken a couple of tissues from the nightstand and wiped myself off - I fell on my knees to pull it back out. I had thrown it further in than I thought so I had to lie down and stretch out an arm to reach it. The scarf had landed on a few other items lying around under there so I drew them to me as well. It was a handful of CDs. I scanned the titles. Well, whaddaya know, I mused. There was L'Après-Midi d'un Faun. A little too late, though. I had firmly managed to shatter my peace of mind jacking off on Jasper's scarf and was way too riled up for a bit of music to calm me down.
Palming the scarf nervously I knew what I had to do. Dejectedly I trudged all the way down to the basement and put it in the washing machine, fortunately remembering to set it to the gentle cycle. Wouldn't want to add to the list of stupidities and accidentally shrink it or whatever else could go wrong in a wash.
Hoping my memory failed me, I carefully opened the bottle of detergent and took a sniff. Urgh, I remembered correctly unfortunately. It practically reeked of cherry blossoms and couldn't be further from the smells in the scarf. With a blush burning my cheeks I thought of the smells I had just been adding to it myself.
I poured in the detergent and as I waited for the wash to finish, I had plenty of time pondering what to say to Jasper when I gave the scarf back. Nothing sensible came up. I sighed. What was the point? I was such a bad liar anyway.
I took the wet scarf back to my room and draped it over the back of the desk chair. It should be dry by tomorrow.
The next morning I was awake an hour before the alarm. As I opened my eyes I knew exactly what awaited me and I desperately tried to fall back asleep, postponing the inevitable just a little longer. No such luck, of course.
The task at hand had been permeating my dreams all night, some of them ending with me crying out in pleasure but most of them with me just crying.
I tossed and turned for another half hour before reluctantly dragging myself out of bed.
I took my time getting ready, but since my morning routine mainly consisted of getting dressed, brushing teeth and gulping down a bowl of cereal which didn't take me too long, I was still on my way out the door some good fifteen minutes earlier than I usually would be. Which was perhaps a good thing, I realized, as History wasn't on my schedule today and I would therefore have to actively seek out Jasper to return what I was now almost thinking of as my stolen goods.
Parking my car in one of the many still-free spaces I sat for a few minutes taking slow deep breaths while I tried to convince myself that nothing bad would happen and I should just calm the fuck down. Breathing deeply, of course, made me pick up the strong scent of cherry blossoms even clearer, and I almost had a mini panic attack.
Holding on to the scarf much too tightly - this was fast becoming a habit, wasn't it? - I tried to relax my fingers as I realized my knuckles had turned white with the strain. I looked down almost apologetically at the fabric. I had been doing much too much harm to it already. Edward the Scarf Molester, I thought with dark humour.
As I checked myself in the rear view mirror wiping off the cold sweat on my brow I noticed with a start that Jasper was pulling into the parking lot. Immediately it felt as if hundreds of madly fluttering butterflies had been released in the pit of my stomach and were throwing a temper tantrum. I turned around in my seat and let my eyes follow him to the space only a few cars down where he opted to park.
Two more deep breaths and I decided that it probably wouldn't be any easier if I had to chase him down the hall instead of getting it over with now, so I opened the car door, here goes nothing, and got out.
My legs were shaking as I made my way towards him, fixing my gaze to the flurry of his golden curls. I was desperately fighting back images from yesterday's sensory overload, otherwise I would never be able to take care of the business at hand. As he heard my boots crunching on the snow he turned around, looking a little surprised at first but then one of those beautiful smiles grazed his features.
"Hey, Edward," he said, and my heart skipped a beat.
"Hey, Ja- Jas-," I gulped, "Jasper. You, ehm, I mean, I... eh, you forgot your scarf," I said lamely, holding it out towards him, feeling the horrible inadequacy of my verbal skills when I was around him.
"Oh, hey man, that's great! I was wondering where I'd left it," he reached for the scarf, tugging a little on it, as I realized that it was time for me to let go of it.
I let it slip through my fingers, watching with morbid fascination as he unfolded it - thankfully there were no signs of yesterday's crime visible on it - and then refolded it the way he wanted it, grabbing the opposite corners so it became a large triangle and rolled it once.
"Hold it for a second?" he asked as he handed it back to me and removed the long gray scarf I only now noticed he was wearing.
"I hate these scratchy woolly scarves," he admitted. I looked down at the one I wore. Well, at least he had the dignity to look a little embarrassed as soon as he realized what he had just said.
"No, I mean-" and then he coughed violently. For a second I seriously thought he was faking it but as he looked up again I saw his eyes were a little bloodshot - the green of his irises in sharp contrast to the red. He actually looked sick. His nose was red as well.
"You, eh, you okay?" I asked, willing my voice not to crack.
"Arh, I've just got a blazing cold, man. That's all." He smiled at me again, his eyes watering slightly. As if to emphasize his point he sneezed and then discreetly tried to wipe his nose on the back of his hand, not succeeding at all since I was staring unblinkingly at him.
"It's just so annoying, you know. I've lost all sense of taste and smell. I mean, I know it'll return in a couple of days, but still... It's really weird not being able to taste your food at all and only feel the consistency of it in your mouth."
I almost burst out laughing like a maniac. Did he just say what I thought he did? I was so relieved I could have cried. As long as he would be wearing the scarf for the next few days the fabric would regain his scent and he would never notice that I'd washed it. My secret was safe!
"Tha- that's awful," I stuttered, while trying to suppress the grin I could feel threatening to break through.
"Yeah, well, it's not like it's enough to keep me in bed or just home from school or anything like that," he shrugged. Stuffing his gray woollen scarf into his bag, he took back the green one from my limp hand and wrapped it around his neck twice before tying it with a loose little knot.
"Hey, man, thanks," he said, giving my upper arm a little squeeze. He might as well have punched me, the impact felt just as big as if he had. Jasper Hale just touched me.
"You coming?" he asked as he turned around to leave - as if the two of us walking together would be the most natural thing in the world.
My feet felt as if they were frozen to the ground but I could come up with no sensible explanation for declining so I just swallowed and nodded my consent.
He flashed a dimple at me and then waited till I fell into step beside him. Together we walked towards the school building.
A/N: Okay, so Edward likes Debussy, I like ballet and Debussy wrote the music for the ballet Afternoon of a Faun. Along came this bunny then, strongly inspired by the action of the ballet in which a faun steals a scarf from a nymph and then, eh, lies down on top of it and assumedly gets off on it. Caused quite an uproar in Paris in the 1910s when it premiered, I can tell you. ;)
A link for anyone interested in watching a reconstruction of the ballet (which was never recorded) can be found on my profile.
A huge thank you to the sweet, awesomely talented and very BETAlicious OfTheDamned. ;) Without her encouragement I would never have had the guts to write anything at all.