A/N: So... I wrote this small continuation for SorceressCirce's birthday. It's a little JPOV and starts right after the end of chapter 1. Big thanks to theladyingrey42 for the beta-job. And thank you for reading. As always, I love to hear your thoughts. :)
As always, when I walk into the Showbox, I can almost feel the tingles along my skin in anticipation of what I'm about to see and hear and breathe. This time though, I don't think I could ever have anticipated this.
I glance over again at Edward standing next to me, a small smile playing on his lips, his eyes shining behind the dark-rimmed glasses, his hand twined with mine. If someone would have told me that at this concert - the one I had to come to by myself when all my friends bailed - I would meet a gorgeous boy and that he would still be standing here with me after that bathroom rendezvous, I would have laughed in his face.
This doesn't happen to me. Meeting siblings and holding hands doesn't happen to me.
Disappointment, rejection, lies and deceit. Those are what happen to me. And I've built walls to protect myself from it happening again.
I feel a tug on my hand and look over to find Edward's face tilted towards mine and curiosity in his gaze. He leans over and places a small kiss on my neck before moving his lips to my ear, and I feel the bricks in my walls start to crumble. "Where'd you go?"
I shake my head, not wanting to get into that now, just wanting to enjoy the moment free of worries and bullshit and the war in my head with what I want to do and what I should do.
The remainder of the concert passes in a rush of sensations that threaten to drown me: the notes infiltrating my ears and mind, the visible energy of the crowd pulsing around us, Edward's taste still on my tongue and his fingers warm against my skin. Overwhelmed I barely register that the music has ended until the lights come up and people begin to file past to the doors.
Emmett, Edward's brother, turns toward us, smiles and then punches Edward on his shoulder, causing him to drop my hand.
"Ow! What the hell, Em?" Edward chastises, shrugging his shoulder while awkwardly rubbing it.
"You fuckers wanna grab something to eat?" the larger man bellows, like he has only one volume even without the music blaring. I glance over at Edward but don't have any idea what he wants from the glare that he's directing at his brother. If I'm being honest, I have no idea what I want either.
Before either of us can answer, Rose, Emmet's girlfriend, leans over and whispers something in his ear before straightening and addressing us.
"Actually, Em and I are going to head out to the jeep. You'll catch up, Edward?"
Edward nods enthusiastically, and Rose smirks as she leads a slightly baffled but completely compliant Emmett toward the exit.
As soon as they are out of sight, Edward turns to me, grinning from ear-to-ear. "So, did you want to get something to eat?" he asks eagerly, reaching for my hand again.
I want to say yes to him more than anything, but there are so many things unrelated to Edward or tonight that are still holding me back.
My internal debate must last longer than I think as I glance up to find his smile fading and his gaze no longer on my face but fixed somewhere around my chest. I frown as I watch him almost shrink in on himself, and something small in my chest topples, another brick falling from my walls.
Time to fix this, Whitlock.
Just as I open my mouth to accept, he lowers his eyes completely, staring at the ground and shuffling his feet, a blush creeping over his cheeks. "I'm sorry," he mumbles. "I just thought-"
I cut him off by grabbing his chin a little roughly, not wanting him to finish his thought or his sentence, not wanting him to think that he is in the wrong here. "I do want to," I say when his surprised eyes finally meet mine, and then I shrug a little, feigning nonchalance. "But, you know, just not with them," I add quickly. It's a suitable excuse for my hesitation and not entirely untrue, but definitely not everything. Everything would be too much right now.
His face brightens with my confession. "Yeah, okay," he agrees. "Do you have a car, though? They're kinda my ride."
"Yeah, but then how are you going to get home to... Well, wherever you're from?" I ask, suddenly and inexplicably worried about how little I know about him and the realization that I want to know more. He's possibly the best and scariest thing that's happened to me in a long, long time, and he could disappear again so easily.
"Oh, I live here in Seattle, basically; just south of here a bit, near Kent," he answers easily, and I breathe a small sigh of relief.
"That's great, man," I confirm, both excited and slightly scared that he's so close. That there is no reason not to see him again. He tilts his head a little as he nods slowly, his brows furrowing slightly. "And me, too. Actually, I live just off campus."
"You go to college at UW then?" he asks, a certain amount of hesitance in his voice that I don't understand.
"Yeah, I just finished my first year," I reply as Edward licks his lips absently and my gaze settles on his mouth. Unable to help myself, I lean forward, drawn in by the sight of his tongue sliding across his lips, but then the moment is broken by a large man in a black shirt with 'Security' written across the front.
"You boys need to take it outside. Show's over," he orders, not really looking at us but effectively ushering us to the door. I almost huff in annoyance but then grab Edward's hand, pulling him with me. We emerge into the cooling night air, a slight breeze causing goose bumps to erupt across my heated skin. His fingers tighten with mine, and he comes to a stop, halting my movement as well.
I turn to him to ask what's wrong, but then he pulls me into him, his other hand fitting along my jaw as his lips collide with mine and the world melts away. There is no awkwardness, there are no questions, there is just this hard-to-explain connection between us drawing us closer and closer. And, Jesus fucking Christ, I want to taste him again.
Tangling my fingers in his hair, I groan as his mouth opens with mine, my tongue sliding along his. Once he has stolen my breath, he breaks free, leaving a only small space between our lips. He smiles shyly, almost as if he's uncertain about what just happened. I may like shy and blushing Edward, but a man who knows what he wants is sexy as hell. I move a strand of hair from his eyes, my fingers lingering along his cheek as he gazes at me intently through his fuckhot glasses.
As I'm leaning into Edward again, a loud, obnoxious horn sounds behind me and I jump. Edward closes his eyes slowly before raising his hand and flipping off the car in question. I hear a door open, music pouring into the night. "Come on, bro. Let's get some grub!" comes Emmett's booming voice.
"Can you hold on a sec?" Edward asks me, his eyes imploring me to stay, and although we haven't made definite plans, I'm hoping that we won't be separating so soon. Especially after that kiss.
"Of course," I answer, turning to watch him walk over to his brother who is hanging out the open door of the jeep.
Edward approaches his brother, and they start talking as I stand there on the sidewalk, shifting my weight from foot to foot, contemplating what the fuck I think I'm doing here. Whenever I've been the one to want more, to ask for more, I've been left behind, and so I have adopted a "leave first" attitude. I don't know what is so different about Edward, but here I am not wanting to let this guy go. What really isn't helping is that it doesn't seem like he wants to let go either.
I'm pulled from my thoughts when I hear heavy footfalls coming toward me. I look up in anticipation only to see Edward still at the jeep talking to Rose and Emmett intently staring down at me, his face stern. I unconsciously take a step back, and he gives me a small smile.
"Listen, man. He's my little brother," he begins, averting his eyes and looking somewhere over my shoulder.
"I know," I reply, wondering what I've gotten myself into.
"Yeah, but today's his birthday, and he really doesn't deserve to have his chain yanked, if you know what I mean. He's a good kid."
I nod, unsure how to reply to that. Edward seems like a nice guy and not my usual type, but judging by my past choices, that actually might be a good thing.
"I just don't want to see him get hurt," Emmett continues, rubbing the back of his neck with his hand and staring awkwardly at the ground. "Fuck, I sound like Dad," he grumbles.
I chuckle a little, and he looks up at me, a small smile playing on his mouth, too. "It's okay, Emmett. I don't want to see him hurt either." And I know it's the truth. No matter what happens, whether or not anything more even works, I don't want to see pain on his face again.
"Hey! What are you doing, Em?" Edward shouts, running over to where we're standing.
"Just chatting with Jasper here a little," Emmett replies, giving me a wink before turning towards his little brother. Edward shoots him a glare and then looks at me questioningly.
"We're good," I reassure him, and his worried frown relaxes a little.
"Well, you two have fun," Emmett says, slapping Edward on the back, making him wince. We say our goodbyes as Emmett retreats to his vehicle. "Don't do anything I wouldn't do!" he calls from the jeep before stepping in, closing the door and driving off into the night, leaving a heavy silence in his wake.
I turn to Edward, and I notice that he's wearing a different shirt. "Where's the flannel?" I ask, curious at the change in wardrobe.
"The flannel was Em's anyway. I don't typically wear that kind of thing. But he said he wouldn't be seen with me at this concert if I didn't look the part." He blushes slightly and looks at the ground, and I take the opportunity to look him over: fitted blue button-down shirt, thin leather jacket slung over his arm. "Rosalie distracted me with the shirt while Emmett accosted you. I'm sorry about that, by the way."
"No harm, no foul," I reply and he raises one eyebrow in disbelief. I just change the subject. "And this is what you normally wear then?"
"Yup. This is me," he says, looking down at his attire and grimacing slightly as he twists one leg around. "Although, typically with nicer jeans."
He glances up at me then, a touch of worry around his eyes. "Well, you're fucking hot. And I've always thought flannel was a little over-used anyway," I say watching his mouth spread into a wide smile.
"I was thinking the same thing during the concert," he admits, and then I smile, too. My stomach growls, and I take it as a sign that we should get out of here.
"Shall we?" I ask while reaching my hand out for his. He laces his fingers with mine and nods before I lead him to my ancient Buick, the maroon boat almost taking up two spaces. As I open his door for him and he throws me a smile before sliding onto the wide bench seat. I walk around the front of the car and unlock my door before lowering myself into the driver's side. Edward is looking around my car, and I laugh as he runs his fingers through the dangling tassels above his head and bats the hula girl on the dash. I have lots of crazy shit in here, but it seemed like the perfect car to compliment almost any gaudy car accessory. So, I may have bought a few.
"I didn't know there was so much shit you could get for a car," he remarks, continuing to fiddle with the toys along the dash.
"Well, when you drive something the size of a small house, you find room for things. Plus, this car is so very seventies. It practically begged me to deck it out."
Edward laughs, and I chuckle with him. I pull out of the parking spot, having to sling my arm over his headrest to turn in my seat. Soon I am slowly navigating the streets toward my favorite late-night restaurant, The Night Kitchen, which is close and serves burgers and breakfast at all hours. I figure I can't go wrong with that.
I pull into the small parking lot, and we make our way into the cozy restaurant, the waitress telling us to sit anywhere. I lead Edward to a corner table and we both slide into the chairs next to each other, facing the rest of the room. I grab a menu from the table and hand one to Edward, nodding at his thanks.
I study the menu without really seeing the words, feeling Edward's body next to mine, just his proximity causing my pulse to speed. What have I gotten myself into? I hazard a glance at Edward, surprised to find his eyes already on me.
"What?" I ask a little abruptly, feeling the awkwardness creep over us again.
"I, um, well," he stammers, and then he takes a deep breath and starts again. "I've never done this type of thing before, Jasper. I mean, like, go on a date."
I immediately freeze. A date? Is that what this is? I look around at the dimly lit restaurant, the menus in our hands, our fingers almost touching and his intent gaze fixed on my face.
I sigh and run a hand through my hair. Yeah, I guess this is a date.
"Me neither," I admit, an unexpected nervousness twisting in my gut. "I just didn't feel like saying goodbye yet."
He smiles at that and presses his leg into mine. The heat radiating into my skin even through the denim relaxes and excites me at the same time. "Yeah," he agrees, his blush creeping up his cheeks again.
Damn, that blush is going to be my undoing.
Just as I work up the nerve to move my fingers, wanting to touch his skin again, the waitress shows up to take our orders. I ask for my usual, and Edward gets the same, a small smirk on his face.
As soon as the woman walks away, he turns to me with a smile and raised eyebrows. "Did you even read the menu?"
"Don't need to," I counter. "I'm very particular, and I already know what I like. So what's the point in looking further when I know that's what I'm going to get?" As I say this, I run a finger down his hand softly, and this time it's my turn to smirk as his pupils dilate.
"Point taken," he says huskily, his voice lower and gruffer than normal.
I want to pull him into me and crush his lips with mine. I want to press my body against his and feel his body pulse with desire. I want to take him home and explore every inch of his skin with my tongue.
And, scarily enough, I'm still fighting this want for more. There's a building desire for more time, more feeling, more him and it's making my physical desires both more intense and more terrifying.
The moment is broken as the waitress stops at our table briefly, delivering our drinks before bustling off to the next table. I glance up at Edward as he unwraps his straw and places it in his soda before taking a long pull, his lips pursed and his cheeks slightly hollowed.
As my pants tighten with this simple, innocent action, I know resisting him is all but futile.
After he swallows, he fidgets with his straw wrapper for a few moments, and all I do is stare, watching his lips, his fingers, his throat bobbing as he swallows again.
"So, Jasper, what are you studying?" he finally asks, and I almost sigh in relief as the tension in my body eases. Simple questions and simple answers, this I can do.
"American history," I answer easily. "And you? Are you going to college?"
"Yeah, in the fall. I'm thinking about something with biology."
With his words, I realize that he could be moving anywhere, and I had been harboring a small hope that he would be in the area for longer.
"Oh. Where are you going then?" I ask, feigning nonchalance and trying desperately to hide my fears and hopes.
"Just UW. Em's there, and it's a good school." He smiles at me, and I happily return it. Our completely uncertain future may be a possibility, even if I don't even know exactly what I want that future to contain just yet.
We talk about colleges and classes for a while, our food arriving around the time he's explaining about AP classes and how he won't have to start with all freshman courses. We eat our burgers but continue discussing all matter of things: movies, books, music, and we eventually order coffees when the conversation doesn't lag. It seems we don't have any lack of words between us, and while we're talking, Edward's shy demeanor seems to evaporate.
"I can't believe you've never heard Weezer!" he exclaims, leaning forward in his chair, his eyes bright green in their intensity. "Admittedly, they are nothing like what we listened to tonight, but they have a very infectious sound. 'My Name is Jonas' is amazing. I have the CD at home. You could borrow it some time."
And there it is. At the end of his enthusiastic argument for this new band is this small offer of more. An innocent suggestion of something beyond tonight, and my whole body freezes as I fight to remain calm. What the fuck is wrong with me? I thought that I wanted this, but my reaction is anything but want. Am I just fooling myself that I could even entertain thoughts of having more with this boy?
Fuck. I want to.
"Sure," I respond lamely, unable to give him something more definite, and I can tell by the look in his eyes that my lack of enthusiasm didn't go unnoticed. I am such a dick. Sighing with frustration at myself and my inability to get over my past, I signal for the waitress to bring us our bill. I look at Edward who is still fumbling with his wallet and gently place my hand on his.
"My treat this time," I offer, throwing some cash on the table. I hope he'll get the implication of my words, and by the way he slowly stands and offers me his hand, it seems that he does. We walk back to my car, and I think we are okay, but we spend the ride in an awkward silence except for the occasional directions from Edward.
By the time we pull up to his driveway, I am both frustrated and unsure, not wanting to let him go, but not knowing how to keep him either.
"Well, this is me," he says, gesturing at the house we're parked in front of. He glances at me once more and then reaches for his door handle, but I can't let him go like this. I can't let him just disappear.
"No, wait," I mumble, and his hand pauses in mid-air. "I'm sorry I'm such a dick. I really don't know what I'm doing here."
He sighs and sits back, releasing the door handle before facing me again, his brow furrowed and his mouth tight. "I don't know what you want, Jasper. Every time I think things are going well, they suddenly aren't. I had a really great time and would like to see you again, but it seems like you don't."
How do I explain that I'm just scared shitless without sounding like an absolute pussy? That the only other time I allowed myself to date, to dream of something more, it all came crashing down around my head?
"It's okay," he continues, ignoring my obvious reluctance to talk about this. "If this was just one fun night, then I'm okay with that. I had a wonderful birthday and I'm glad we met." He turns in the seat, looking directly in my eyes. "But don't tell me to wait and then give me nothing."
And that's the crux of it, what I've been warring with all night. Half of me wants to say goodnight and protect myself from possible heartache, but the other half wants to give him this chance and then kiss him senseless. "I don't know what I have left to give," I admit, still uncertain about taking down my walls for him.
"Okay then," he says, his mouth set in a firm line. "Good night, Jasper. It was nice to meet you." He reaches again for the door, and something in me snaps.
"No, Edward. Don't leave." My voice is so quiet that I'm surprised when he stops again.
"Don't fuck with me, Jasper," he says to the window, not turning to face me.
I take off my seat belt quickly, moving towards him, not letting him leave this car until I know one last thing. He turns and we're so close now, his breath brushing warm against my lips.
"Please, just one more kiss," I practically beg, just needing this one last touch. "If there's nothing there, if either one of us can let go, then that's it."
He nods slowly, and I move closer, my fingers knotting in his hair before our mouths press together, his soft lips moving across mine. I moan at the warmth spreading across my skin and pooling in my belly, and I pull him against me harder when his tongue darts into my mouth. Gone is gentle and sweet, we are two men trying to devour the other, teeth clashing and urgent need growing between us.
I break away from his mouth, needing a breath and needing to see where his head is. He opens his eyes, heavy lids hiding the green, and he leans closer again. "Want you," he whispers huskily, and I couldn't agree more.
I pull him with me as I lean back, practically laying across the bench seat of the car. My fingers scramble along over his back and up to his shoulders, digging into the fabric of his shirt and the flesh underneath. He moans above me and shocks me by pressing his full weight into my chest, his mouth returning to mine hungrily. I wonder briefly if I have ever been this turned on before. The slightly awkward, completely breathtaking man that I met in the club is definitely not hesitant now. This is surely going to be the end of me.
He moves me slightly, adjusting the angle of our bodies and putting my right leg up against the back of the seats before settling himself between my legs and sitting back slightly. He traces his fingertips over my chest and down to the hem of my t-shirt. Lifting the fabric, he bends, skimming his nose and lips over my exposed skin and causing goosebumps to erupt over my entire body.
He takes his time teasing and tasting me, but soon I'm lifting my arms and head so that he can peel the shirt off of me. As soon as my hands are free, I reach for him, unbuttoning his shirt as fast as possible and sliding it off his shoulders. He removes it the rest of the way and throws it into the back seat before yanking off the t-shirt underneath. We both seem to move at once, both reaching for each other and yearning for the other's touch.
My fingers spread over his heated skin, memorizing every dip and ridge, feeling him shiver with each movement. As I explore, I feel him moving over me, his touch firm here, subtle and teasing here. Edward's fingers are inching toward my zipper as his lips move lower. And I want this so badly. I want him, but I don't want to stop kissing him.
"No," I whisper, pulling his face toward mine again. At the look of panic in his eyes, I amend my first statement. "Like this."
Aligning us again, I wrap my legs around his before grabbing his ass and squeezing. He reacts by thrusting into me and grunts as our erections press against each other.
I see fucking stars.
I pull him into me again, and then he starts moving on his own, his hips slowly circling with mine as his hands tangle in my hair and his mouth covers mine.
"Yeah," I groan as he scrapes his teeth along my jaw and finds his rhythm. "Fucking perfect."
Gone is nervous Edward and I encourage him with my hands and mouth, our mutual noises filling the small space as we both edge toward our orgasms. The building heat in my groin racing higher and higher while he grinds his length against me harder.
"Jasper," he gasps into my mouth, his eyes wide. "I'm so close."
"Me too, baby," I answer, lifting my head to bite at his lip and suck it into my mouth, eager to see his face as he gives in to this.
As Edward's motions become more erratic, I push up into him, not wanting to lose this amazing feeling just yet. His breath stutters and his eyes clamp shut as his mouth opens in a wordless moan, and his hips still after one last thrust. The combination of feeling him pulse against me and the pressure of his hip bone along my length sends me hurtling over the edge as well, my mind blank and my ears ringing as all my nerve endings explode at once.
When I finally come back to my senses, Edward is half-slumped across me, his head on my shoulder, his eyes closed and his mouth curved into a lazy smile.
"That was-," he begins softly, but then stops, seemingly at a loss for words.
"Amazing? Wonderful? Best dry hump you've ever had?" I offer helpfully, and his smile widens.
"Yeah," he agrees, opening his eyes and kissing me softly. "I was going to say 'sticky', but yours are better."
I push him lightheartedly in the shoulder, and he chuckles into my neck. I turn slightly, putting my back against the seat and pulling Edward down next to me. I run my fingers over his cheek and into his hair before bringing my mouth to his once again. When I pull away, my hand lingers on his face, and I watch as his eyes open slowly, the green intensity altogether too much and not enough.
"Where are your glasses?" I ask finally, wondering how this boy seems to be always losing them.
"I have no idea," he admits, pressing his lips against my cheek. "And honestly, right now, I don't really care."
I chuckle and just relax in his arms. My legs are uncomfortably cramped even in this car, but I just relish the warmth and the post-coital happiness for a few moments longer. We enjoy a few more slow kisses, but then I notice that the sky is starting to brighten outside.
"It's getting late," I remark, looking into Edward's half-lidded eyes. "Time to say goodnight, I think."
He hums against the skin of my neck and places one more kiss there before sitting up and finding his shirts and glasses.
"Do you wanna, um, come inside and clean up a little?" he asks once his clothes and specs are back in their rightful places.
Honestly, I want to drive home and go straight to bed, but sitting for the ride in my sticky pants does not sound appealing.
"Yeah, that would be great actually," I answer, while pulling my shirt over my head and running my hands through my tangled hair.
He opens his door and steps into the early morning, and I follow him up to the typical, two-story suburban home. He opens the door, and we step into a small foyer that leads into a white-tiled hallway with the stairs on the left and a living room on the right.
"You can use the bathroom down here," he offers, leading me to a small room behind the stairs with a sink and a toilet.
I step in and close the door, leaning back against it for a moment to regain my senses. I make quick work of cleaning my skin but have to just remove my boxers. The jeans are loose enough that I should be comfortable for the ride home at least.
When I exit, I find Edward leaning against the wall, head tilted back and eyes closed, a picture of relaxation.
"So, yeah, thanks for that," I say and he startles slightly before smiling and shrugging.
"Anytime," he responds, and then his smile widens as I chuckle at the implication. "You know what I mean."
He walks slowly in front of me to the door, and I know this is my last chance. If I don't make some kind of move now, offer him something more than a kiss, I won't ever see him again.
"Um, Edward?" I start and then cringe at how unsure I sound. He turns to face me, his eyebrows raised and his face calmly expectant. "Uh, can I have your number?"
"Yeah, sure, but do you have email?" he counters, a small embarrassed smile on his lips.
"Actually, yeah, I do. All UW students get one," I answer, slightly confused but going with it.
"Well, I'm on a local bulletin board. And maybe it's a better idea than calling here," he explains with a subtle wave around his parents' house.
"Ahh, yeah, good idea. So, we can..." I trail off, wondering just how nerdy this makes us, but he just looks at me expectantly. "You wanna trade email addresses?"
"That's the idea," comes his simple and calm answer, but his mouth gives him away as it twitches at the corners with his repressed smile. I follow him into the kitchen as he grabs a pen and some paper. We both write down our addresses, and I stuff his in my jeans. We walk back to the door, and this time I have no more excuses, I need to leave.
"Thanks, Jasper," he whispers, leaning toward me and wrapping his arms around my waist. "I had a wonderful time."
"Me too," I answer before placing a chaste kiss on his lips and running my finger along his jaw one more time. I leave quickly, only glancing back when I reach my car and see Edward raise his hand in farewell before closing the door.
The drive back to my apartment doesn't take long as traffic is pretty light this early on a Saturday morning. As it is, I have to keep the window open and the music blaring to stay awake. In record time, I am unlocking my front door and stumbling down the hallway toward my bedroom. I shed my clothing along the way to my bed, but when I drop my jeans I hear a faint rustling. Remembering the small scrap of paper with Edward's email address on it, I dig through my pocket until I find it.
While waiting for my computer to boot up, I piss and find a new pair of boxers to sleep in. I log into my email and decide that if I'm going to give this thing with Edward a chance, then I'm going to give it a real fucking chance. Which actually translates into sending him a message now before I think about this too much. I write quickly and then, hoping for the best, press send.
To: ECullen (at) seattlebbs. net
From: whitlock12 (at) uw. edu
Made it home. Wanna grab some dinner when you wake up?