A/N: This O/S was written for SorceressCirce's birthday compilation along with several other amazing authors. Big thanks to theladyingrey42 and azihelm for prereading/beta-ing this story. Totally popped my slash cherry on this one...

You can see the other stories here:
Circe's Birthday Blog: http://happybirthdaycirce (dot) blogspot (dot) com

Disclaimer: These boys aren't mine, although I wish they could come visit. I have never been to this club or Seattle, and I apologize with the liberties I have taken. Although I know it's sappy and not even the right era, the title is from a Pearl Jam song. Alice in Chains' songs were just too depressing or about drugs...

Stay with me...
You're all I see.

Did I say that I need you?
Did I say that I want you?
Oh, if I didn't I'm a fool, you see...
No one knows this more than me,
As I come clean.

I wonder everyday
As I look upon your face,
Everything you gave
And nothing you would take,
Nothing you would take...
Everything you gave.

"Just Breathe" ~ Pearl Jam
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I can't believe I let him talk me into this. Well, I can because he can talk me into just about anything including my current wardrobe choices, but I know he's going to ignore me for his girlfriend all night anyway. I'm incredibly excited that he bought me tickets for my birthday, but I mean, who actually wants their little brother tagging along to a concert?

That's not entirely true. Emmett and I don't have a bad relationship. In fact, it's just the opposite. He was the first person I told I was gay, and he has been nothing but supportive, even going so far as trying to set me up. Well, perhaps that's not as much a sign of support as he likes to embarrass the hell out of me, and that's a sure way to do it.

I pull the flannel shirt over my black t-shirt and look at myself in the mirror. I try to smooth down my hair, but as usual, it does what it wants, sticking up in every direction no matter what products I use. I suppose it doesn't matter. Half the guys in school don't seem to even wash their hair anymore. I'm not sure I understand the whole "grunge" movement with the grubby jeans and scruffy faces, but it has taken hold here in Washington. I love the music, though. Nirvana, the Ramones, Pearl Jam, the heavy beats and agonizing lyrics capture what it is to be me: a high school senior aching to leave home and be free, free of rules and high school drama and home drama.

"Hey, Eddie! Are you about ready?" I scowl at Emmett's voice from the hallway. He knows I hate that nickname. He bangs on the door and I sigh.

"Yeah, I'll be right out." I grab my glasses and slide them on my face, putting the finishing touches on my nerdy exterior. Why my mother couldn't spend the extra cash to get me normal glasses, I'll never know. The thick black frames hide my bushy eyebrows at least, I think wryly.

I open the door and see my brother waiting for me, leaning against the wall. He walks toward me and looks me up and down before smacking me on the shoulder.

"Well, at least, you'll look the part."

I look at him and realize we match: faded jeans, t-shirt and flannel, although his is more snug as his bulky frame pushes the confines of the fabric. I had to borrow the flannel I'm wearing from him, and it hangs loosely on my slight frame. He told me he wouldn't be seen in public with me in my normal attire. I guess it's comfortable, but I always feel more myself in button-down shirts and polos. I sigh again. Maybe I am just a geek.

"Thanks again for getting me this ticket, Em. I'm actually really excited."

"Well, as much as you fucking listen to them, I can't believe you've never seen them in concert. It's the least I could do for your eighteenth birthday, bro." He smiles at me and I return it, amazed that he actually knows my musical preferences.

His smile quickly fades as he glances at his watch. "Come on. We're going to be late picking up Rose, and I hate to make her wait." He wiggles his eyebrows at me and I groan. It's going to be a long night.

Emmett insists we take his jeep to the concert. With the top down. Whatever semblance of order I hoped to have my hair in is completely gone. We pick up Rosalie at her house and I'm forced into the back seat. Emmett turns the radio up and sings off-key to some rap shit with lewd lyrics and no real musical talent.

We live on the outskirts of town and make our way into downtown Seattle using the surface streets, avoiding much of the highway traffic. The concert's at the Showbox and I'm excited to feel the powerful energy from Layne Staley's lyrics in the small venue as the bodies pulse to the thumping beats. That man could honestly make me do anything with his words. Or his body. I shudder with that possibility and try not to let my teenage hormones get the best of me.

They should be highlighting "Jar of Flies" as it was just released. Layne's voice has never sounded so powerful and I get chills when he groans out "No Excuses". I try to subtly adjust myself and continue the banal conversation with my brother and Rose in the front seat.

This is definitely going to be a long night.

We arrive and park quickly and I'm surprised at our luck. The venue only holds about a thousand people and general admission, so the earlier we arrive, the better the seats. Or I should say position in the crowd. There are no seats for concerts, but I could get close enough to touch Layne. Not that I ever would. God, I'm mortified to even think about that. Emmett snickers at me and I know I must be blushing. Soon, he and Rose will be sucking face and he won't bother himself with torturing me any more. Thank God.

We enter the doors and make our way through the crowd to get as close as possible. We find a small space in the center, about five or six people from the front. This will be perfect.

I look around at the red walls and giant pillars, trying to picture all the music that has echoed within the space. Music in all forms is just something that I know. It makes sense when the rest of the world doesn't. I start people-watching and notice all the flannel and torn clothing. The irony is not lost on me that all these teenagers and twenty-somethings are conforming to the same image while listening to music about not conforming.

I watch in awe as the band members and roadies start setting up the instruments, making sure all the speakers and microphones are set. I glance over at Emmett to thank him again, but Rose is thanking him. With her tongue.

I smirk and look away, content to watch the show on stage instead. They finally come up for air when the band takes the stage and the applause is deafening, the energy from the crowd overwhelming. I can feel the anticipation zinging in the air from everyone squeezed around me, waiting for the first notes.

And it begins.

They start with "Them Bones", and the crowd begins to scream and pulsate as one. They begin with mostly older tunes, getting the crowd warmed up, but soon I hear the familiar opening chords of "No Excuses". The mass of bodies pulls tighter around me and sways with the beat of the song. Most of the "Jar of Flies" album is slower paced but with lyrics poured from their souls. I inch closer to the stage, drawn in by the sweet voice. I gaze up at the man grasping the microphone with his fingers turning bone white as his words rake over me like claws, tearing into me.

As lost as I am in the music, I don't realize how close I am to the front until the next song begins. "Rooster" takes over the speakers and the mood immediately shifts. The tight press of bodies begins slamming into each other and me, throwing themselves around to the steady pounding of the beat. A large elbow shoves me to the side and I lose my footing, slipping under the rough tangle of bodies. I reach out to grab anything on my way down and hang on for dear life as I catch someone's arm. Pulling myself up, I receive a scowl and a shove from my supposed savior.

"Hey! Back the fuck off!" The bulky guy shoves me again and I try to move away, but the crashing waves of people prevent any movement.

"S-sorry," I mumble back, trying to move further away.

I'm pushed forward again and stumble into the guy I'm trying to avoid. He elbows me in the gut and shoves me again, this time just scowling in my face. I trip over my own feet and feel myself going down and my glasses rip from my face. Instinct takes over, and I flail again for some kind of purchase. I grasp onto another arm, but this time I feel a sharp yank on my hand, a tug under my arm and I'm pulled to my feet to be greeted by a blurry but beautiful smiling face. He makes sure I'm able to stand and then pulls on the hand he's still gripping tightly.

I'm not completely blind, but without my glasses, navigating in the pulsing light and darkness is difficult, and I thankfully follow his blonde head as he tugs me along, shoving his way through the bodies surrounding us. He leads me to a wall and I lean against it and close my eyes, trying to catch my breath. He stands next to me, back to the wall, panting just as heavily.

A slower song, "Don't Follow", fills the speakers and he takes the opportunity of the quieter music to talk.

"Jesus, man. Were you trying to get killed out there?"

I open my eyes and find him staring at me, the most beautiful deep grey eyes revealed to me in the flashing lights. His blonde hair is wavy and he keeps brushing it back from his face. I glance down past his red lips to his baggy t-shirt and jeans with a wallet chain dangling from his side. He may just be my fantasy boy. Jesus Christ on a cracker. I bite my lip to keep from groaning out loud. Wait, did he ask me something?

"Uh," I stammer. Great, brilliant opening there Cullen. "No, just got lost in the music, I guess," I finish lamely. I look up at his eyes again and see something more. Compassion? God, I'm such a girl.

"Well, perhaps you should try to avoid mosh pits if you're lost." I notice he's looking down at my body as well. "Or, at least, fight back." He smirks at me then and extends his hand.

I look quizzically at him, until I realize he's holding my glasses. I look at my shoes as I shove them on my face, quietly cursing them. I see his shoes move closer and I look up again. His beautiful eyes are impossibly deep and I feel he can see right through me, knowing exactly what I'm feeling.

He reaches forward with his hand and removes my glasses again, brushing my cheek with his fingertips.

"Don't get me wrong, those glasses are sexy as fuck, but I don't want you to hide your amazing green eyes."

My knees go weak to think that this beautiful boy may be flirting with me. Since coming out, high school has been rough. I've discovered who my true friends are, and the list is decidedly small. I also haven't had much experience flirting with other guys, and have only been kissed a few times.

I smile and lean into his touch, losing myself in the calloused roughness of his fingers. He steps closer until I can feel his breath on my cheek.

"Before I kiss you senseless, I need to know your name. I'm Jasper," he whispers into my ear. His words send heat searing through me, and I feel my cock respond eagerly.

"Edward," I moan out.

"Feel what you do to me, Edward?" He takes my hand and presses it into his jean-clad length, groaning into my ear as I squeeze him gently. "Two seconds of looking into your eyes and touching your cheek and I'm fucking hard as a rock."

Slowly, he turns my face to his, pausing before our lips make contact.

"Say something, Edward. Do you want this, too? Do you feel this?"

"Yes. Hell, Jasper, yes." I pant, needing to feel his lips. I tangle my fingers in his hair and pull his mouth to mine.

The second we kiss, the world ceases to exist.

The lights, the pounding music, the screams, the people bumping into us, all disappear. There is only Jasper and his lips on mine, his fingers caressing my face and digging into my back, his moans echoing in my mouth, his cock roughly rubbing against mine. The songs change multiple times, but I couldn't care less.

Jasper pulls away and for a second I'm terrified that he's running away.

"Come with me, darlin'. We need a little more privacy." He grabs my hand and pulls me through the crowd again. We're heading for the bathrooms and suddenly I'm nervous. The glaring fluorescents will not be forgiving. He will see me. The real me. The nerdy, geeky, no-one-will-ever-want-you Edward Cullen.

I pause at the door, knowing this is my last chance to hold onto this dream.

"I swear I won't hurt you, Edward. Please, come with me." Jasper's eyes plead with me as his hand squeezes mine encouragingly.

"I-I-I don't know. I've never done this before." I glance away from him, feeling the blush flood my cheeks.

"I'll take good care of you, I promise. I want you." He bends to look directly in my eyes. "I want you."

I look up at him again, sincerity in his voice and face. "You want me?"

"Yes, please."

I pause for another second, but I honestly know I can't say no to this man. I squeeze his fingers in return and grin at him. His answering smile is brilliant and he pushes open the door behind him, pulling me into the blinding white light with him.

The bathroom is completely deserted and he backs toward the end of the room, pulling me gently by my hand. His eyes burn through me and I duck my head to hide my blush, embarrassed by the strength of the yearning I feel for him, this almost stranger.

"God, Edward. If you keep blushing, I'm not going to be able to stop myself."

"Stop yourself from what?" I bite my bottom lip and look up at him, watching his eyes darken with lust and need.

He stops midstep and pulls me roughly into his chest, growling and encircling my waist with his strong arms. Our cocks press together and I tilt my hips into his slightly, eliciting a groan from both of us.

"From ravaging you right here, in the middle of the floor," he breathes into my ear.

I press into him again, pushing him toward the last stall. We enter quickly, and I slam and lock the door before he presses his body into my back, thrusting slightly against my ass. I tilt my head back to lean on his shoulder as he places hot, open-mouthed kisses on my neck.

"Unh... Jasper," I pant. "I need to see you."

He spins me around, pressing my back against the wall and slipping his hands under my flannel shirt. His mouth is immediately on mine, hot flesh pressing into my lips. I part my lips to moan, and his tongue slips between them to explore my mouth. Our panting is loud, almost drowning the steady thump of the music. My hand lifts his shirt slightly to run my fingers along the waist of his jeans, feeling the smooth skin of his toned abdomen. What I wouldn't give to lick him.

I grab the back of his head, knotting my fingers in his hair, and tilting it to the side so I can finally put my mouth on his heated skin. Licking and sucking along his neck, I can hear a deep rumble in his chest.

"Fuck, Edward. Slow down, baby." I nibble his ear lobe and briefly pull on it with my teeth. "Jesus, fuck, that feels amazing!"

I smirk a little to myself, excited that I can elicit these reactions from him.

He tugs on my hair gently and moves his face towards mine. Our kisses become frantic, our bodies grinding together, cocks straining. His hands graze my stomach as he reaches for my belt, yanking it open. I gasp as I realize what he's doing.

"Jasper...," I pant. "Are you sure? I mean, you don't have to do this."

He looks deep into my eyes and I can see his lust and need staring back at me. "I know, Edward. I want to, no, I need to taste you. Just breathe. Feel what I can do for you."

Speechless, I nod as he kneels before me, unfastening my jeans and pulling them and my boxers down around my ankles. I rapidly remove my flannel and hand it to him, realizing his knees will be pressed into the hard tile. He looks up at me questioningly.

"For under your knees," I explain, blushing fiercely. He probably thinks I'm a dork. God, I'm going to freaking ruin this before it even starts.

"Thanks." He smirks up at me before placing the shirt under his knees on the floor. "Really, Edward, that's... thoughtful."

I blush again, but he leans forward, lifting my shirt slightly, while running his nose along my hip bones. All embarrassment leaves me as his hands roam over my ass, pulling me towards him and his eager mouth. He leaves small kisses over my stomach and hips, coming close to where I want him most. He ghosts his fingertips along my straining shaft and my head falls back against the wall. I'm afraid if I watch his perfect hands holding me, I'll explode before feeling his luscious mouth.

I feel warmth on my thighs, his breath circling my throbbing cock. I can't resist any longer and tilt my head down to watch just as his pink tongue licks my entire length. I groan and desperately try to remain standing as my knees threaten to buckle.

He presses his lips against my head and sucks lightly, eliciting the most feral sounds from my throat. The sensations ripping through me are indescribable. I never knew it would feel like this.

"Good God, Jesus fuck..." I pound my fist against the wall, heat spreading from my groin and burning through my body.

Jasper wraps his lips around my cock and slowly engulfs my entire length. I can feel myself enter his throat as he swallows around me. He begins bobbing his head and I gently grasp his hair to guide him, slowly fucking his mouth. He looks up at me with hooded eyes, and I can feel myself tensing, watching his perfect lips envelop my length repeatedly.

"Oh, Jasper, you feel so good. I never knew it could be like this," I gasp as he increases the suction around my cock.

"Fuck me... I'm going to cum." I gently caress his face to warn him, but he takes my entire length into his throat. I explode into his mouth and start shaking when I feel him swallow my climax.

"Holy fucking hell," I murmur as I collapse against the wall, sliding down next to Jasper. I lean over and attack his mouth, tasting myself on his tongue. I reach down for the button on his jeans but his hand clasps around my wrist. I frown as he shakes his head at me. Does he not want my mouth on him?

"No, love, this was all for you. We'll have time for that later."

Later. I like the sound of that.

He leans into me and our lips meet sweetly, the heat smoldering between us. Eventually, we slowly stand and he helps me redress, smiling the entire time. He grabs my hand and I reluctantly follow him back towards the concert, the music still pounding through the walls.

We exit the bathroom and weave through the crowd, returning to our original position in front of the stage. I easily find Emmett and Rose, holding each other close while moving to the music. We join them and Emmett glances at Jasper and me. His eyes widen in surprise briefly as he notices our clasped hands, then he smirks at me.

"Happy fucking birthday," he mouths at me.

I laugh and shake my head at him before stealing another glance at the beautiful blonde boy beside me. I squeeze his hand and he turns to me, winking slyly.

I laugh again, happier than I have been in a long time. Happy fucking birthday to me indeed.