Tattward & Inkella One-Shot Contest

Title: Rough Seas

Your pen name: MySlashyFriend

Characters: Edward and Jasper

Disclaimer: SMeyer owns all things Twilight, and would probably be a little disturbed by what her characters are getting up to in the AH universe.

To see other entries in the Tattward & Inkella Contest, please visit the C2 page:

A/N: This is my first ever slash piece and I feel like I'm really putting myself out there with this. Shout-outs to Jezzeria and Einfach Mich for telling me to keep going (even when they didn't know what they were encouraging!). Also, to n7of9 for being wonderful and beta-ing this for me. She is super cool.

We'd left Jersey the previous day and I was still learning my way around the ship. Jasper had brought me down to the mess for some tattooing ritual they had. He was supposed to show me the ropes, both work and leisure related. This was purportedly leisure related.

He was perched on a stool and Emmett leaned over him, carefully tracing the design on his bicep. Jasper was getting his third swallow—15,000 miles at sea. He was so passive about the whole thing, I was amazed. I mean, he was about to get a fucking tattoo, on a moving ship, and was not worried at all.

"We get one after almost every port," Jasper was telling me. "We're shit busy while we're docked, so it's not until we get underway again, but it helps to mark the passage and it gives us something to do." He had his shirt off and it would've revealed to me just how much time he had spent at sea, had I not already known.

As I watched Emmett tracing the design, I started to understand how Jasper could be so unfazed by the whole process. Emmett's hand was perfectly steady, never making an error. His body automatically corrected for the slight sway of the ship, almost as if he were gimballed to the walls. I started to feel less anxious about him using a needle on me.

"What's the first tattoo I'd have to get?" I asked, starting to thaw to the idea.

Emmett squinted as he added in the detail of the bird's wings. "It depends on what you want. Some of the boys like the bad-boy tatts, skulls and shit. Jasper here is a traditionalist, always with the sailor symbolism." He pulled back the sheeting and revealed the perfect replica of the swallow outline he now held in his hand. "Others wuss out and just get a single chain link after each port. They're small, so it's fast—less pain, and you can fit anywhere up to thirty links depending on the size of the arm. That'll get ya through 'bout nine months on a container."

I had a feeling skulls and crosses would look a bit out of place on my body. Jasper was similar in build to me and the marine tattoos didn't look so bad on him. It was either that or the chain.

"What's the first sailor tattoo?"

Jasper started to turn to answer me but stopped when Emmett flicked his ear to remind him to stay still. Instead, Emmett answered me as he added the finishing touches.

"Well, again, it depends. You can get something a bit more artistic, like a mermaid, or you can get something meaningful, like a compass or star—they're meant to guide a sailor home." He fired up the needle and I listened to the ominous buzzing but avoided watching it with my eyes.

Jasper barely winced as Emmett went to work on him and I guessed he was used to the sensation now. He was covered in tattoos: a dragon stretched out across his back, two other swallows in flight on his left bicep, rope around his ankle, an anchor under the swallow Emmett was creating, several stars scattered around his back, and a sea turtle on his hip. He also had a chain running around his arm that revealed he hadn't always been so comfortable with the needle.

I considered my options. A star wouldn't be so bad. It would be small enough that I could hide it or get it removed if I changed my mind later, and it would look less stupid than a single piece of chain on my arm.

"I think I'd have to start off with something small, like a star," I decided, out loud.

"Good choice," Jasper added, keeping his body still, his voice revealing no sign of the pain he must be feeling.

"If you stick with the nautical, you'll almost have as many as Jasper here by the time we're through. You can get your compass after Norfolk, then your rope after Charleston. Once we cross the Atlantic, you'll have earned your anchor—we can do that after Port Said," Emmett continued to mutter away as he tattooed Jasper's arm.

I looked over Emmett and for the first time noticed how few tattoos he had. "Do you get a tatt after every port?" I interrupted him. It sure didn't look like he did.

He snorted at my question before answering, "I get one after each contract—when I get the shore time. There's no way I'd let any of these fuckers ink me." I nodded in understanding, thinking I probably wouldn't either.

I continued to ponder whether or not I should go ahead with it when it struck me just how many ports we would be visiting. If they were serious about getting one each time, I was gonna have to get a chain just so I'd still have skin visible. "So, when we get to cross the Pacific, after Port Said, I should have at least another... nine, is that right?" I asked, struggling to comprehend.

"Nah, that's not quite how it works," Jasper answered. "You finish China, you get the dragon." He gestured to his own back. "It's five ports in less than a week—"

"There's no time for getting inked," Emmett cut him off. "Stay still, damn it," he gruffly barked at Jasper before continuing. "You barely have time to sleep during the China leg, especially you lot working the cranes. Once we get out into the Pacific we have time for this again."

So that left just another four tattoos I'd have to get if I went along with this. I contemplated everything they'd said and considered what Bella would likely think. I could argue they were symbolic, appealing to her creative side. That would be bound to piss her off less than if she thought I was getting them to be one of the 'boys.' Maybe I do want to piss her off, though? It was her fault I was out here.

Bella insisted on pursuing her writing—all else be damned. Don't mind the fact I wanted to be a musician, or that I kept up my shitty construction job to pay my way until I got signed. She'd argued that while she was working, she wasn't able to write. When I countered that my job wasn't enough to support us both, she conveniently found the ad for this position, knowing that I'd be able to get it because I was licensed with cranes. The only other qualification I needed was a z-card. Forty five dollars and one weekend of coursework got me that. So now I was employed as an Ordinary Seaman aboard the CMV Maria on a six-month stint, while she stayed at home and wrote. It felt like I hadn't really had a choice in any of this.

But I had a choice now.

"Okay." I raised my eyes to meet Emmett's. "I'm in," I said, and he answered me with his nod of approval.


We'd been at sea for two months and I had four tattoos to show for it. I got the star on my back first, right shoulder blade. The compass was on my left tricep, an anchor on my right, and I got the rope wrapping around my ankle, same as Jasper's. Now we were making our way through the Suez and I was thinking about what I'd get after Jiddah. Jasper had talked about getting a constellation on his left pec. I'd probably just get that, too.

It was evening time and we'd both retired to our bunks for the night. Our cabin was small—only about six feet across. The bunks took up most of the space and were recessed into the wall. The only other furniture was a built-in set of drawers. Needless to say, when you were in your cabin, you were in your bed.

I'd been reading through some of Bella's manuscript that she sent to the last port for me. It was good, I'd give her that, but reading it brought back my feelings of jealousy. She was able to follow her dreams and seeing as I wasn't, everything I read was tinged with bitterness.

I heard Jasper groaning and knew he was torturing himself by reading Juggs again.

"I'm so fucking horny. I'm so fucking sick of being fucking horny." He rolled over in the top bunk and I heard him slap down the magazine. "Edward, take a walk, man. This may get messy." I heard him unzip and the sound of him taking his pants off, followed by his audible relief at finally having something wrapped around his cock.

I was a bit pissed he didn't really give me a chance to leave first. He knew I had no clothes on and to leave now would involve copping an eyeful of him as I got dressed. So instead, I tried to tune out his grunts and moans by focusing on Bella's work. I found the main character to be a bit of a pussy, always chasing after the female—something I was pretty sure didn't happen in real life. This scene in particular was pretty steamy though. The guy was admiring his lover over breakfast, contemplating what they'd done the night before. Jasper groaned loudly and I lost my place.


Now I was hard. Reading about two people having sex was not what I needed while Jasper whacked off above me. I slipped my hand under the sheets and rubbed it up against my dick, wondering if I could bring myself to do it.

Fuck it.

I figured if Jasper was rude enough to jerk off with me right here, I could be too. I rubbed my hand up and down my dick roughly, feeling how much I needed to let loose. I could definitely do this. Jasper was picking up his pace and the bunk was starting to vibrate. I listened to him and unwittingly imagined what he looked like up there. It made me even harder as I heard him moan again.

I spat on my fingers and used it to wet my cock, then sighed as I spread it around. My hand slipped easily over the head and I squeezed a little more there. It'd been a couple of days since I last jerked off and I was aching for release, so I didn't waste any time before beginning to pump roughly. I felt the familiar tightening inside as my body reacted to the stimulation. My breathing got heavier and more strained as I kept trying to push myself to climax. I was getting closer with each stroke, but nothing was tipping me over the edge. Then I heard Jazz's pleasured groan above me and my whole body tensed as I came all over my hand and chest.

I lay there panting heavily but not moving. What just happened was a little weird, but what was weirder for me was that I didn't feel uncomfortable. It wasn't the first time I'd listened to Jazz jerk off, but it was the first time I did it around him...well, while he was awake anyway.

"Feeling better?" Jazz muttered, his voice carrying his amusement. He obviously wasn't freaked out so I started to relax a little. Maybe this was totally normal?

"That was entirely too fucking messy," I jokingly groaned as I stood to get something to clean myself off with. Opening a drawer, I pulled out an undershirt and used it to wipe the cum off my hand and chest, then I threw it into the corner to deal with in the morning.

As I turned to walk back toward the bed I saw Jazz, laying on his side with a smug look on his face, and realized he'd been watching me.

"That was some load," he said, a smirk spread across his face. He sat up and lofted off the bed, then slapped me lightly on the ass as he brushed past. He bent down and retrieved the shirt I'd discarded and used it to wipe up his own cum. I watched him too, but wasn't disgusted with what I saw. The feeling I had as he added his release to mine was the same kind of pride I felt whenever I watched Bella swallow.

Jasper finished cleaning up and threw the shirt back down where I'd left it. As he straightened up, I let myself appreciate him physically. The marine tattoos that littered his body made him look as masculine as I knew him to be.

He climbed back up onto his bunk and chuckled. "You need to do that more often, Eddie."

"Don't fucking call me Eddie," I snapped, and crawled into my own bed. He was probably right.


After another month, Jasper and I had settled into a routine, of sorts. It had kind of become our thing—nightly jerk-off sessions—and boy, did we go through some lube. My dick seemed to be developing an association problem though, because I was starting to get hard whenever Jasper walked into the room at night. At times, I found it a little disturbing, but it didn't exactly feel 'wrong.'

For the most part, Jasper seemed really cool with it all. Occasionally, he felt the need to up his macho and would make some comments—mostly about tits and how much he missed them. Other times he would talk about women he missed fucking. Most of the time, I just ignored it, knowing it was more about making himself feel more comfortable than anything else. But then one night, he was just being a fucking smartass.

It was during one of our 'sessions.' He had his copy of "Juggs" out, as usual, but started calling one of the girls "Bella" and I just snapped. I yanked him off his bunk and had him pushed up against the wall with my hands so fast, he didn't have time to react.

I grabbed his cock menacingly. "If you ever talk about Bella that way again, I will tear your fucking dick off!" It was an unspoken rule that we never talked about Bella— at all. And if this was his idea of a joke, I was not impressed. I was fucking mad.

I was so fucking mad, I didn't realize I was holding Jasper's erect cock in my hand.

I was so fucking mad, I didn't even think about my own cock sticking out at full mast in front of me.

Not until it brushed up against his thigh.

And when that happened, it felt so good, I started to forget about being so fucking mad. I had an overwhelming need to touch him and have him touch me. It was like I was frozen in time though, unable to move either closer or further away. As I furrowed my brow and clenched my jaw, I knew the inner turmoil would be clear on my face. I didn't think I could hide the way it affected me.

I'd looked Jasper straight in the eye then, showing him the conflict I was having. But he didn't look scared or freaked out, he just glared straight back at me. I realized his expression mirrored mine.

"Do it," is all he said—and all it took.

I pressed my naked body flush up against him and exhaled with relief. My cock met his and I pushed us closer together. It had been so long since I'd had anyone else touch me, I was shaking a little with how good it felt.

Jazz was the first one to use his hands, well... in that way. He reached behind me and grabbed my ass, pulling me in tighter. Neither of us knew what to do next so we just stayed that way for a moment. I buried my face in his neck and bit him lightly to stop myself from using lips and tongue. I wanted him to touch my cock so bad, I did what I had to.

I moved my hand up and down his length and felt just how hard he was. He let out a strained groan and I could tell he was struggling with what we were doing just as much as I was. He pressed his face into my hair and exhaled heavily when I started stroking him. I needed him to do it too, but there was no way I could ask.

He stuttered a few more short breaths into my hair and then finally reached down and took my cock in his hand. I fucking moaned and had to use my teeth again to restrain myself.

Then we just went at it—each of us pumping and breathing heavily. We both started to break out in a sweat and our chests were moist against each other where they touched—our Carina constellations almost resembling reflections. When our dicks or hands grazed each other slightly, it felt amazing. It was the kind of thing I would never have imagined would be a turn on, it was so distinctly male, but every time his dick or his hand swiped mine, my arousal increased.

I don't know how long we stood there jerking each other off. Jasper came first and I was a little shocked when his warm cum hit my stomach. His hand had stopped moving and it gave me the unstimulated window to think about what I was doing. My brain started screaming that it was wrong. Jazz was still moaning lightly with each breath as he slumped against me and I started to push him off, but he grabbed me from behind and pulled me closer until I was pressed against him again. The cum on my stomach spread between us and Jasper slid a little against it. Then he grabbed my semi and helped me to not think about it as he got me hard again.

I managed to block everything else out and concentrated on how it felt. Jasper's hand was stronger than Bella's, and larger, so it covered more and squeezed me tighter. He had a much better idea of what he was doing too. It was the best of both worlds, a hand-job as good as I could give myself, touching all the right spots, adding just the right amount of pressure, and it was someone else's hand, so everything I felt was through my cock.

I kept my eyes closed, not wanting to watch as Jasper got me off. He stroked harder and got me to spread my legs a little and then he pulled on my balls and pressed up behind them. My breathing got heavier and faster and I started to move my hips. He kept pace and I listened to his own breathing pick up. Having Jasper panting in front of me made everything a lot more stimulating. It was more like when we were in our own beds and I was listening to him above me.

Those thoughts were all I needed and I clenched. Jasper pressed harder into my perineum and I came all over his stomach this time. I leant forward against him and finally opened my eyes. Looking down I saw the mess I'd made and chuckled softly as I thought, payback. Jasper had also been surveying the damage but at the sound of my voice he looked up into my eyes. His face was all strained, like he was still frustrated. I glanced down and saw he was hard—again.

We both came twice that night, and after Jasper gave me the second mind-blowing hand-job, I stopped trying not to kiss him. It felt unnatural to have someone touch you that way and yet not use your lips to show them how good it felt, so I pressed mine against his, softly and briefly, before we each climbed into our own beds.


You'd think jerking off your best friend would be something you would keep to yourself, and we did. After that first night, I wasn't sure if Jazz would want to keep doing it. I sure as hell did, but he barely looked at me the next day, or the day after that. He came around eventually, always joking and shit to try and make things normal. It was another week before we 'helped' each other again, but after that it became just another thing we did.

That was what I liked so much about Jazz—he could be so easy going. I could still tell he was struggling though. The more time we spent together, the more he started to man-up, talking about boobs and pussy. I had the opposite happen to me; I could barely think about them now. They just reminded me of Bella—a topic I was trying to avoid.

After every port, Jasper was getting mermaids with huge tits tattooed on his body. He had Emmett place one below the dragon and then later, back in our cabin, he joked that it was for me so I had something to check out other than his ass. There was no way I would be returning that favor.

For the first time, I started to deviate from the sailor tatts. I didn't want mermaids or more stars—I wanted something more meaningful. So I started to delve into Celtic symbols and after we left Karachi, I added a triskele of returning loops to my lower back as a symbol for inner strength. I thought it was fitting given what was happening in my life.

When we finished the China route there was a celebratory vibe on the ship. We'd worked our butts off and had very little uninterrupted sleep over the past week, but everyone was keen to socialise. The Captain let those of us not on duty have a couple of beers, not enough to get drunk, but enough to loosen us up. We talked about how I was getting my dragon and one of the other crew decided they'd get one too. It was fun. Eventually though, the lack of sleep and the sedative quality of the beer kicked in, and one-by-one, everyone retired to their cabins.

Jasper and I approached ours and I tried not to make it obvious how much I was hoping we'd fool around. I was horny, as usual, but I was also worried my back would be too sore over the next few days to enjoy any sessions we could have. Not wanting to push Jazz, I waited until we were safely hidden in our room before I turned to him and started to feel him up. It was my secret hope he'd let me take things a little further tonight.

He didn't shrug me off like he sometimes did, so I continued to touch him and started to kiss his neck. Over the weeks, I'd found it was better if I eased Jazz into everything, including mouth kisses. I let my hands roam down to his fly and I unzipped it slowly, leaving him time to back out if he wanted to. His response was to start trailing his owns hands over my body, his means of telling me it was okay. The beer must have relaxed his inhibitions a bit because we were moving faster than normal. I decided to take advantage of that to try something new.

I kept kissing him down his neck, then lifted his shirt so I could taste his stomach and chest. He clenched noticeably and I assumed it was because he realized where I was taking my mouth. I yanked his jeans down and warmed him with my breath, which he must have enjoyed, 'cause he didn't stop me.

Again, I avoided eye contact as it just made it easier for him. Jazz was always clear on how he felt about our relationship—for him it was getting off. I had been less forthcoming about my own feelings and how strong they were becoming. He meant more to me now than anyone else I'd ever been with, and I think he sensed that. I kissed the head of his cock, testing the waters, and heard him exhale sharply in response. The next time my lips met his cock, I sucked him in.

"Fuck," he exclaimed, quietly. I knew that feeling. I used my lips and tongue and hands to make him feel as good as I could. He jerked and rocked against me, hissing when I grazed him with my teeth, groaning when I licked the base of his head extra hard. I could feel he was getting close to climaxing, but taking my mouth off him just wasn't an option. If I was going to give him the best blowjob he'd ever had, I had to swallow.

That resolved, I went about fulfilling his every want and less than a minute later he came in my mouth, his body quivering while he stroked my hair with one hand. I let him slide slowly out of my mouth and placed gentle kisses around the area before chancing a look at his face.

He was blissed-out and completely relaxed, his head tilted back against the wall and his eyes closed. I started to slowly rise up and Jasper instantly tensed, his eyes opening as he glanced at me briefly. I saw the wide-eyes for what they were—scared.

"I don't think I can," he mumbled.

"I never expected you would," I responded, calmly, running my hand across the skin under his shirt, tracing the lines I knew were there.

He looked back into my eyes and, without words, conveyed his understanding. He reached forward and grabbed onto me as I nuzzled into his neck.


"What do you mean you're getting off?" I asked him angrily. Jasper had lived on this ship for over two years. If there was one thing I was certain of, it was that he would be on it long after I was gone.

"I just need to get back to land, you know? I wanna have a normal job, meet someone, all that conventional shit." He shrugged as if he was saying nothing of consequence, but those words burned me.

It was night time and we were in our bunks, reading to pass the hours before sleep. Jasper had started with some small talk before dropping the bomb that he was leaving... and leaving me. We were less than two weeks away from the States which meant that was all the time we had left together. And that made me mad.

Jasper had never led me to believe we had a relationship outside of being friends, but what he was saying made me feel like I was the reason he was leaving.

"You don't have to leave the fucking ship to avoid me, Jazz. Just tell me if you don't want to do this anymore." I tried to not let the hurt show in my voice but failed.

"It's not that." He exhaled loudly, and I heard him sitting up in bed. "I never wanted to do this forever—the ship thing. Now just seems like a good time to call it a day. Once we hit the West Coast, I'll be able to find my way home. And to tell you the truth, I don't think I could handle another circuit. All I wanna do is sit in a bar, drink cold beer from the tap, play pool without a lean on the fucking table, touch tits. It's been too long, for me," he added almost as an afterthought.

I stayed where I was, unable to speak without taking my insecurities out on him. After a couple of minutes, Jasper's legs appeared over the side of his bunk and his body followed until he was standing next to me, staring down, obviously annoyed.

"Why are you being all pissy about this?" he yelled.

"I'm not being pissy. I'm just...I'm just, fucking...I don't know. I don't want you to leave," I admitted and then squeezed my eyes shut so I didn't have to see his response.

Instead I felt it.

He pressed his lips against mine and kissed me softly, tenderly. When he pulled away I wanted to see him, so I peeked. He had his cocky smile on his face, all smug and amused. "You're such a fucking girl," he said, then leant in and kissed me again.


This was it. The next morning we would be docking and Jasper would leave. He was still hanging out in the mess with some of the other crew, having the equivalent of a farewell. I was hiding in our cabin, faking a migraine to avoid looking pathetic in front of everyone. No one knew just how close Jasper and I were, but one look at my face right now and they would.

No matter how hard I tried, I couldn't sleep. Every time I closed my eyes, my internal monologue started up and led me through all the conceivable scenarios for how the next day would play out. Personally, I hoped Jasper would change his mind at the last minute, turn around and get back on board. We'd get matching tattoos or some shit and things would carry on the same way they had been.

Then there was the other scenario, the one that was really keeping me awake. Jasper would reach the end of the gangway, turn, and call me a fucking fag in front of everyone, before laughing at how stupid I was for falling for him when he was so obviously unavailable.

After tossing for hours, I finally heard the sound I was subconsciously waiting for. The cabin door swung open and Jasper stumbled in. He smelled faintly of beer, but I knew he wouldn't be drunk.

He closed the door and stayed where he was, towering over my bunk in the small space.

"Edward, you awake?" he asked, uncertainly.

"Yeah," I replied, slowly pulled myself up into a sitting position and planting my feet on the floor. Jasper made to sit next to me, so I shuffled over a bit to make room. He rested his head in his hands without saying anything for a minute, while I just sat there, waiting. He looked... conflicted.

He dragged his fingers through his blond hair then dropped them suddenly into his lap.

"You know how I feel about you, right? This is not a gay thing for me, it's just... a thing." He hadn't looked me in the eye and was instead staring at his shoes. "I need to know what it is to you," he added, quickly. His head started turning toward mine, so I looked at the door, not wanting him to see my face. He was about to find out exactly where I stood.

"It's... more to me," I began, then ploughed on before I lost my nerve. "Nothing has ever felt this right." I moved my eyes to my bare feet. "And now you're leaving and it feels like my fucking heart is breaking."

He didn't reply for a while and I was left with my words swirling around my head, mocking me for being too forward. Just before I was about to make a feeble attempt to laugh off what I'd said, he leaned in and kissed me.

Kissing Jasper was the next best thing to loving him. It was the only way I could communicate how I felt without worrying about his response. And when he was kissing me, it made it easier to imagine he loved me too.

There were different ways he kissed as well: his tender goodnights, his teasing tempters, his slow apologies, and the frantic, desperate ones that told me what he wanted. These were the kisses I was getting now.

He stood up and pulled me with him, the small single bunks being too impractical for two men of our size. I kept kissing and let my hands wander all over him, across his back, under his shirt, around his ass. I knew what I wanted to do with him but I wasn't sure how he'd feel about it, so I was too scared to ask. If only we'd had more time.

Jasper's own hands trailed down over my ass and he squeezed it, making me squirm a bit. And then I heard his breathy voice in my ear.

"If you want me to, I'll do it," he whispered.

I pulled away and stared at him. He looked determined, his eyes serious with not a hint of fear, but the strong set of his face was not enough to mask what I knew his thoughts were. He would be doing this for me. For him, this sacrifice would be too much, and I hesitated, not able to decide if I wanted to accept it. But if I was losing him anyway, would it be so bad to accept this from him before he left?

I knew I was going to.

I kissed him again, deeper this time. When I pulled away I went straight for his neck, whispering into his ear, "I need you to do it."

He swallowed, and again, I hesitated. But then Jazz climbed his wall, or put it up, or whatever the fuck he did to be able to be with me, and he started kissing me again.

"Turn around," he whispered against my cheek. I kept kissing him while I undid my pants and kicked them off. I looked into his eyes one last time before I did as he asked and turned around, still trying to hold him from behind. I was relieved he didn't look sad, or shut off, or anything I was afraid of. He looked like he wanted to do it, too.

He gently bent me over so I was facing the wall and ran his hands smoothly up and down my back.

"I fucking love this one," he mumbled as pressed his lips to the Celtic design on my lower back. Maybe Jasper was more philosophical than I had given him credit for?

He trailed his hand down over my ass and reached in between my legs, fondling my balls and the base of my dick. It was the best feeling in the world being stroked like that and I groaned from it.

He left me for just a moment to grab the lube out of the drawer, then returned to my butt and started easing a finger in. He was gentle as he stretched me with one, then two fingers. I couldn't stop my eyes rolling back with the pleasure and pain. It wasn't the first time Jazz had used his fingers on me and I knew the feeling only got better.

I gave up trying to physically touch him and instead grabbed my own dick. We moved in tandem for a while, but then paused when I felt him remove his hand, only to feel his wet, lubed dick in its place.

He pushed in just the smallest bit and I fucking gasped. It was a lot bigger than his fingers and it stung. When he went to push further, I had to stop him.

"Wait," I panted, my brow furrowed as I calmed down. "Just...wait."

I tried to relax, and my as my body adjusted to him being there, I was able to. He took it slower then, pushing in the smallest amount, waiting until I stopped tensing, and then pushed in a bit more. It took us a little while but eventually he was completely inside me.

For me, once the pain subsided, it was better than I imagined. For Jasper, although I couldn't see his face, his sounds were of a man that had to restrain himself. When I was ready, he went slow, pushing in and out, using his hands to pull me into his hips and grunting with each thrust.

I braced myself against the wall and just felt him. He was all around me, his body inside mine, his noises in my ears, his scent in the air. My dick fucking pulsated for him, harder than it had ever been in my life. I felt his hands around my hips, his sweat on my skin, and his breath on my shoulder as he started to pant louder.

I made him slow down, not wanting it to be over so fast, and he did, touching me more sensually and less aggressively. I reached back and managed to rub his balls for him and he groaned at the increased pleasure. Then I moved my hand back to myself and started jerking off in time with his thrusts.

Once he felt me doing that, he started losing himself in my body. He was groaning out load and I was grunting along with him, unable to restrain my voice. I lost all control as I started reaching my climax. All my other senses were dulled except those that felt and heard and smelt Jasper and me, together. When I came it was without any coherent thought, everything spilling out of me and all over the wall. I felt Jasper coming inside me and it prolonged my own orgasm. I must have come for half a minute, my cum seeping out of me with every convulsion of my body. Jasper leaned against my back and I felt him kiss the dragon. He made to move but I reached behind and grabbed his hand, wrapping it around my waist, wanting him to embrace me before he left.

It may only have lasted a minute, but that was the closest I had ever felt to another person in my life.


The next morning, I helped Jazz pack his clothes and tried to appear happy for him, but I was numb. There was no sadness, no fear, just... nothing. My defensive walls were up. I smiled at him as we worked, and responded to his casual touches the way I used to, though they weren't stirring me as they had before. When he kissed me goodbye in the privacy of our cabin, I started to feel again. Because it was a slow apology kiss, which told me he was running from me, and that made me mad. I didn't show it though, and as the crew farewelled him out on deck, I grinned and slapped him on the back the same as they did, keeping my feelings to myself.

He strolled down the gangway and waved to us all from the wharf. I didn't dare watch him until he was out of sight—that would have been too obvious—so I left and instead went to our cabin to sulk.

That he was running from me made me wonder if there ever could have been more between us. Was he just scared? Or was it me he didn't like? I almost slapped myself at that last thought. Fucking girl.

Once I let the pain in, there was no stopping it. I felt incomplete and empty knowing I'd never have him again. I needed something, anything to drown it out. And then it occurred to me—the one thing I could do on the ship that could take my mind off Jazz.

I left my cabin and made my way to the galley. Emmett glanced up from over the stove as soon I entered, nothing escaping his notice. He didn't look at all surprised to see me there.

"What can I help you with, Edward?" he muttered, stirring whatever he was cooking in the large metal pot.

"Can you give me sleeves?" I asked. It was a big undertaking and would take him hours if he'd do it—hours of distraction for me.

He narrowed his eyes and stared straight into mine. I got the feeling that Em knew exactly what Jasper was to me and the reason why I wanted him to paint my arms with pain.

"Is that really what you want?" he asked, and I was thankful he didn't question my motives. I gave a single nod in response and he returned it, silently understanding. "We can do it when we head back out then."

"Thanks, Emmett," I muttered. For a few moments I hovered in the doorway, entertaining the thought of talking to him about what had happened. In the end, I turned and walked away quickly, deciding not to say anything else. I made my way back to the cabin, climbed up into his bed, and counted down the minutes until Em could fix me.


We were docked at Jersey, but I felt no satisfaction at all that I had successfully circled the globe. After dealing with customs, I made my way through the sea port terminal and found the taxi rank where there was one lonely cab waiting. The driver was leaning against the side of the vehicle, dragging on a cigarette. He turned and looked me over, his eyes lingering over my arms, judging me. I gave him a slight nod to reassure him I wasn't there to rough him up. It was all he needed to relax—I didn't really look like trouble.

I finally got to the cab and waited while the cabbie butted out his cigarette before opening the door to sit inside.

"Where am I taking you?" he asked.

I gave him Bella's address and realized I didn't even think of it as home anymore. He pulled out of the terminal and I closed my eyes, trying to avoid getting motion sickness. I hadn't yet regained my land-legs and getting into a car straight off the boat made my head spin. But thinking about that was the one way to guarantee I'd heave. As we drove through the city, I finally felt the storm of emotion receding as the clarity of being back where I started from washed over me. This was what I needed to do to feel whole again. I didn't need Jasper, nor any other man, or woman, to complete me. But I did need to stop pretending. I just hoped Bella would understand.

A/N: For those of you that are interested, here's a little list of the significance of the tattoos.

Swallow: a tattoo of the bird, earned after a sailor logged 5,000 miles at sea.

Nautical star and compass: tattoos that were supposed to guide a sailor home.

Anchor: indicated a sailor had crossed the Atlantic Ocean.

Sea turtle: indicated a sailor had crossed the equator.

Dragon: showed a sailor had sailed into a port in China.

Mermaids: Often used to represent the women waiting for the sailors at home.

Carina constellation: a constellation in the southern sky. Its name is Latin for the keel of a ship

Sleeves: tattoos that cover the entire arm.

I mentioned a lot of ports in the story. If you're not sure where they are, Google will show you the way.

So... review? Please?