Dreaming of Sleep
Her sighs penetrated his consciousness, short huffs of frustration occasionally being voiced in low moans. He automatically shifted closer, and he began rubbing slow, soothing circles across her lower back. She inadvertently shifted closer to him, moulding her body to his until she practically lay on top of him.
Cracking open an eyelid, he looked down and smiled warmly at her. She gave another puff in her sleep and frowned, Jacob thought she had never looked more adorable.
Her hair, long and wild on a good day, lay curled around her face and shoulders, each strand taking on a life of its own. Her skin held a certain glow that he could see even in the dead of night, he often had to suppress the urge to touch it, but he knew it was as soft as silk. Each minute detail about her fascinated and enthralled him, she was beyond adorable. Infact, she was downright beautiful.
Curling his fingers around her neck as she burrowed her nose into his naked chest, he pulled the long strands from her face, letting them curl in around his fingers and the sweet scent of her strawberry shampoo to fill his senses. She snuffled closer, working her hands between them until she had almost wrapped her arms around his neck.
He stiffened when he thought she was waking up, stilling his movements completely. He tried to drop his hand to the side, but his fingers became caught in her hair, so he left it there awkwardly, waiting for her to settle down again.
"Jacob," she sighed, and he knew then that she was dreaming, since she had never said his name like that when she was awake. He wished, with all his heart that she would, he loved her, craved for her, needed her to look at him the way he knew she would one day, but he knew that was her decision. Right now she was still completely oblivious to how everyone knew how she felt.
His relationship with Nessie had taken a turn in the last few months; he had gone from carer, to brother, to the boy she let follow her like a puppy, to protector. Throughout it all he had been there for her tantrums, laughter, tears and moments of achievement, he was always there and always would be, and she knew that. But when it came to admitting she loved him, she seemed to falter and turn away embarrassed. He was Jacob, he was just there, she didn't seem to want to admit that he was anything more than just her Jacob.
So now they were in constant limbo, he was neither brother nor lover, but something indefinable. When she had first asked him to spend the night he had been overjoyed, only to find out that she was cold and wanted his warmth. The first time she kissed him, really kissed him, she had said it was an experiment – an experiment for what he still didn't know. And now he was staying over every night, hugging her twice as often and being kissed more than he ever dreamed he would be, but still, there was no mention of love.
Tonight she had been unusually affectionate, cuddling up to him and constantly touching his exposed chest or fiddling with his hair and he didn't know what to make of it and barely dared to hope. When she had taken his hand and led the way to her bedroom he had ignored Edward's look of confusion and Jacob realised that the blood sucker had been expecting erotic thoughts, but all Jacob had been thinking about was sleep.
Looking at Nessie now, he wondered what her thoughts had been as they had settled down on her bed. Was she thinking about him when she draped herself over his body, her small nightgown riding up, or was she thinking about what her plans were for the next day? She gave another huff and shifted her arms again, this time laying her palms flat against his pectorals before falling still.
He gave a jolt when the completely unexpected images filled his head. Since starting school Renesmee had learnt to communicate more with her voice than her hands, but at home she all but gave up on speech. He was also used to witnessing her dreams, having nursed her as a baby and all those other moments in between, many had indulged in the guilty pleasure of her pleasant dreams.
These dreams were different, not the usual flashing of faces, or random moments from school or even the more frequent dreams of her running through the forest. This particular dream was clear and defined, flashing as if from a living memory.
He was there, an odd experience to see oneself in a situation that had never occurred, standing on a beach of pure white sand. The breeze ruffled through his hair and the familiar pair of cut off shorts hung loosely around his hips. He smiled and held out his arms, beckoning her toward him and moments later she entered the scene.
Her white bikini made his breath hitch, her body gleaming in the sun more radiant than he had ever seen it. His Renesmee was beautiful this way, her hair hanging loose and wild, untamed even in her sleep and her smile gave way to her true happiness. She stepped into his arms and lifted her chin so that her eyes met his.
He gasped as the vision changed and they were suddenly in the water, the light waves lapping at their waists as his arms supported her. She wrapped her legs around his waist and her arms around his neck, throwing her head back as his lips caressed the spot just below her ear,
Her breasts, cushioned against him in both reality and her dream was making it hard to concentrate as her thoughts overtook his senses completely. She tilted her head back toward him and he captured her mouth in a searing kiss, so full of passion it had them both gasping into the night.
Mouths tangled as they began to move against one another, needing to be closer. Her fingers speared through his hair as she took over the kiss, nipping at his lower lips with her sharp teeth. The sensation sent a jolt straight to his stomach and he knew then he should pull her hands away, give her some sense of privacy with these thoughts. Somehow he couldn't find the strength to stop her.
"Renesmee," he groaned, both in her dream and in reality, causing her to shiver against him and press closer. The dream changed again and they were back on her bed, it was at this point, and with some regret, he could tell she was waking up.
"Jake?" she questioned groggily, reaching up to touch his cheek, silently asking if he was awake.
"I hadn't gone to sleep yet," he murmured, looking up at the ceiling as she projected an image of warm milk in his mind, making it a question.
"I don't think that is going to help me," he almost groaned. She silently asked if he was feeling okay but he just shook his head in answer.
"Can I ask you something?" she said into the dark, biting her lip and looking rather anxious.
"Anything," he breathed, finally looking down at her, unable to deny her.
"Do you ever think of me … that way?"
"What way?" he asked, pretending ignorance in case he was wrong about what she was asking.
Blushing she lifted her hands and showed him a snippet of her dream.
"You know – that way," she repeated, looking mortified.
"Would it upset you if I said yes?" he asked gently, brushing her hair from her face.
"No," she said with a quick shake of her head.
"It's okay to think those things Ness, we love each other."
She blinked at him for a moment before breaking out into a small almost shy smile, "You love me?" she whispered.
Rather than answer she leant up against him again and captured his lips in a kiss reminiscent of her earlier dream. His hands smoothed down her waist and he was just about to cup her round behind when a pointed cough from the other room invaded his consciousness. He didn't think Edward would have let things get this far.
"Get some sleep," he whispered, pulling her head down to rest on his chest again.
"Jacob," she said a few quiet minutes later, he voice heavy with sleep again, "I love you."
He smiled as she fell into a deep sleep, her dreams repeating their kiss over and over again. It had taken years to go from brother to protector to best friend but they had finally crossed that final line. He felt like he was finally complete and it was a feeling he hoped would never go away.
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