I Did That To Him

Summary: Vampire. Werewolf. Their instincts tell them they should hate one another, but a violent attraction that neither of them can control nor deny forces them together. How can such conflicting emotions be anything but destructive? Slash, Jacob/Edward, AU, NC-17

A/N: This fic was originally in the Fics for Nashville compilation, then was entered in the Slash Backslash 2.0 contest (read the other entries here: fanfictionDOTnet/c2/68069/3/0/1/). Thanks to the screeds of people who have given feedback on this: ~tjbaby, ~shoefreak37, ~gypsysue & ~kblacknightingale. I only wish these boys belonged to me.

I don't try to hide my hatred as I stare at the bloodsucker. He doesn't react. He's calm and relaxed, pushing her behind him so she can't see his face. Slimy fucking leech. He lifts one eyebrow and sneers at me.

What the fuck are you looking at?

His eyes rake over me, down my chest and stop at my hips. His lips curl just a little more and I suddenly feel completely naked.

Even as my flesh crawls under his scrutiny, and I watch in disbelief as his tongue slips out to wet his lips, a curious tingle, a warmth begins in the pit of my stomach, easing up and outward, consuming me, heating me from within.

It's horrific, so I tell myself it's the hatred, the revulsion for what he is, what he's done to Bella, what he's done to me just by existing.

But I can't tear my gaze from that tongue, from those glistening lips, and I know deep down inside that it's something more.

It sickens me.

I say what I came here to say and then I get the hell out before I phase and rip his head off.

She thinks I'm pissed because he's going to turn her into one of them. It's more than that. That just makes everything so much worse.


I know Paul's here in my head, but I can't stop thinking about the damn leech and the way he looks at me.

What the hell is that shit, Jake?

You tell me. The prick's fucking with me, he knows Bella won't believe a word I say against him.

I think you like it.

Fuck you.

The last thing I need is for the guys to think I'm interested in a vampire, but Paul won't let up, won't stop telling me I must be doing something to encourage him. Embry phases in, and he's not as insulting as Paul, but his silent horror is enough that I wish the ground would open up beneath me.

You think I have any control over this? You think I want that fucked up motherfucker to look at me like I'm something to eat?

That's not how he looks at you, Embry thinks. He can see the memory of it in my mind, the yellow eyes locked to my chest, slowly raking down my body, lingering at my hips...

Fuck! It's like experiencing it all over again and it's coming from both of them now, each of their memories of my memory overlaying, overlapping, and I can feel their discomfort, their fear and revulsion and I can't run any longer because my knees have gone weak...

I have to get away from it. I phase back to human and I'm in the woods, miles away from anything, naked and alone but at least it's only me in my head now.

I wonder how long I'll have to wait until the other two are gone and realise that I should have just run home so I wouldn't be stuck out here. I would have to phase back or it would take me hours, but I'm not ready to be bombarded with their disgust again just yet.

It hits me, the scent of a vampire, and close. I was too distracted to notice before, so now it's strong and I'm about to phase, but then I realise it's him and he steps out of the trees in front of me.

"Don't change, Jacob," he says in his sickeningly sweet voice. I'm shaking, shuddering, my every instinct telling me to phase, but those eyes are locked on me and for some reason I can't.

"You don't want to," he observes, circling, stalking closer to me. He has dropped his eyes from my face, and he's focused on my chest, my arms, and I unconsciously flex. He laughs, the sound like ethereal music. "You like the attention I'm paying you."

No fucking way. It creeps me out, the way he stares, his tongue sliding out to lick his rose coloured lips as his gaze drops further.

I'm frozen in place, my skin twitches under his scrutiny; I can literally feel his gaze on my dick. Bile rises in my throat as I start to get hard and his lip curls in a crooked smirk. I used to think he was probably an okay guy, before he left Bella, before I phased for the first time. Just because Dad didn't like the family didn't mean he was a bad guy, right? And I could see what Bella saw in him because he was beautiful. Bella had called me beautiful―

"And you are, Jacob. So beautiful."

He's so close I can feel the chill of his icy breath on my chest and I can barely breathe for his cloying stench. He moves slowly and I wince as he touches me, a cold jolt as his icy palm slides over my chest. I turn my head away, my neck straining.

Get the fuck away from me, get your hands off me, and stop looking at me like that...

"Embry was right, Jacob. But you know that. I have no interest in your blood." His hands slide to my waist, down to my ass, like cold stone that makes my flesh shiver. Nothing makes me feel the cold anymore but this does, and he's raising goosebumps. "I tried to stay away from you… but I can't." I feel clammy, cold and hot. Sweat drips down my back, a bead of moisture runs down the side of my neck and, no fucking way, he licks it off, a cold slippery stone tongue on my skin.

My stomach contracts. I want to phase and rip his repulsive head off, but I can't; my body is betraying me in so many ways. His cold lips are on my throat, and finally my legs begin to work, I back away, one step at a time, but he follows, his mouth never leaving my flesh until I hit the tree behind me and can go no further. I shouldn't be afraid of a vampire; I was born to kill him, made to tear him apart, one stony piece at a time. I imagine doing it, breaking him into rubble because I'm scared, terrified of what he's going to do to me, because he's stronger than me now, and I can't make myself phase.

"I won't hurt you, Jacob." His lips are moving against my neck, down over my collarbone. "And I know you won't hurt me, you don't want to hurt me. You want me as much as I want you." His granite lips close around my nipple and a strangled groan escapes my chest. I'm so hard, and he pushes his hips against mine. Oh fuck, that's his cock pressing against mine, please, god no, please don't want to fuck me, please...

My nose and throat are burning because I have to breathe now, great gasps heaving my chest, gulps of frozen oxygen and caustic scent as he grinds his cock against mine. Why can't I stop, why can't I run, phase, get the fuck out of here and away from him?

"Because it feels good," he gasps against me, and I'm in shock, because I've been thinking of him as cold and unfeeling, but he's affected, as excited by this as I am. I moan into his hair as I nod in agreement and I curse myself, my weak flesh, curse him for wanting this too, because knowing that is pushing me to the edge and if he keeps thrusting against me I'm going to come all over him.

He lets out a growl at my thought and drops to his knees before me. His eyes are on mine, seeking permission, and I don't want this, this is wrong, but I swallow and nod my head because I need it. He takes me into his wet and frigid mouth, his gaze still locked to mine and I can't look away. I groan as he slides his tongue around the head, wrapping his cold fingers around the base before taking me fully inside, and his lips begin to slide slowly up and down my shaft. I grip the tree behind me for leverage as my hips rock into his face, and he follows my lead, increasing his pace, his slick and rigid tongue circling, pulling, and sucking unrelentingly. It's too much, too carnal, heat rushes through me, building fast and I come hard, pumping down his throat as he swallows around me.

Shaking, sweating, hot and cold and clammy and oh my fucking god what did I just do? But I let him kiss me, and I taste myself on his tongue. Thank you, but please don't try to fuck me...

He smiles as he backs away, but not like he did before. There is a disturbing sweetness about it, and it makes it worse because I liked it; I liked what we did. I wait until he fades into the trees and then, wiping my mind clean because no fucking way do I want the others to know this, I phase and head for home.


I refuse to phase while the others are in their wolf forms. They think I'm afraid of him and they've offered to take him out but I won't let them. They think it's because of Bella, but I know better, it's because I liked it and I want to do it again, and it disgusts me, fills me with revulsion for myself and him because I let a vampire blow me.

I'd do it again in a heartbeat.

Dad thinks I'm sick, a lingering stomach flu or something because every night I jack off to the memory of it, of his lips on me, his hands on me, my cock in his mouth, and then horrified, I run to the bathroom and heave up the contents of my stomach.

I don't leave the house because I'm afraid I'll go looking for him. Sam leaves me alone mostly, but it's been a week now and when he pulls the Alpha shit on me I can't say no. But at least he's keeping the others away; I won't have anyone else in my head.

Once I'm out there in the woods again I can't help hoping he'll find me, or I'll find him, so when I catch his scent I run straight for it, anticipation and revulsion battling within me. I can taste bile, it's burning my throat. Or it could be his scent.

We meet, only feet away from each other, and all I can think about is what he looked like with his mouth on me, and he smiles, like he's won something over on me, not like that's a revelation or anything new, because he's got Bella and I don't. Now he wants to take this from me as well, my self respect, my dignity. My fucking purpose in life.

He's twisted me, made me want what I should want to kill. I don't remember changing back to human, but I'm standing on two legs and walking towards him as he's coming towards me.

My airways are burning with the cloying sweetness of him, but I'm taking deep breaths regardless because I need the air. I can hear my own heart beating fast and hard in my chest, and I'm stuck between fight and flight, my instincts screaming to both tear him to pieces and run far away, but another part of me wants to touch him, taste him, to become part of him...

I choke as we kiss, I feel like the ultimate betrayer, but can't decide who I am betraying. The tribe? My brothers? Bella? Myself? Or all of the above? This is an abomination, anathema, werewolf and vampire, mortal enemies, good and evil, fire and fucking ice.

I tear his shirt away and it's my turn to run my hands over him. It's like touching a statue, like holding rock but if I press hard enough he's pliable. I dig my fingers into his waist as my tongue searches his mouth.

"Careful," he mutters against my lips, because the venom kills my kind and I marvel at the trust I placed in him when he took me inside his mouth, so close to those lethal teeth.

"Yes," he whispers, "but you weren't thinking that at the time."

No, but now that I am it won't stop me from letting you do it again.

He sighs, and it's such a delicious sound that I pull him closer, guiding him backwards so that this time it's him backed up against a tree. I realise I'm not sickened anymore, I don't care that our coupling is twisted and sick and so fucking wrong, or that his scent still burns my nose, or that he feels like ice against my chest, because I need him, I want him.

I open his pants, no clue what I'm doing, running on lust, and I release him long enough for him to kick off his shoes, and then he's as naked as I am.

His cock is long and thick and feels like frozen marble in my hand. I'm making him moan and pant as I touch him and it thrills me that I have this power over him. I channel all my hate and fear and jealousy and self loathing into him as I devour his lips, his throat, as I bite down on his unforgiving flesh. His skin tastes disgustingly sweet, wrong, but I've tasted vampire flesh before, they're like poisonous bugs that taste bad so frogs will spit them out. But I'm a werewolf, and we're made of stronger stuff. I didn't shy away from tearing the black haired bloodsucker apart and I won't hold back from what I want to do to this one.

I want to fuck him.

"Please," he gasps against my shoulder. "Please, yes."

I can't help the bark of triumph, of dominance that rises up out of me, and I move to swing him around.

"Wait," he says, dropping to his knees. He takes me into his mouth again, and I'd be quite happy just to let him get me off like this again, but I know what he's doing as he licks and coats me in his slick and slippery venom. I brace myself against the tree and will myself not to thrust. I'll get to fuck something soon and it won't be his face.

He smirks at me when he rises to his feet and then takes my hand, pulling two fingers into his mouth to coat them similarly. His razor sharp teeth are close to my skin and it's a disturbing rush, the adrenaline mixes with the lust and I feel powerful.

With my free hand I grab his cock and pump it a few times, watching his head fall back against the bark of the tree. I feel in control. I want to consume him, claim him.

"Please," he begs, raising his head and capturing my lips as he snakes his arm around my neck and lifts one leg, wrapping it around my waist. He wants me to fuck him.

"Yes. Jacob, please."

I don't even think about the fact that I've not done this before, I just run my hand down the inside of his thigh and find his opening. And then I kiss him, taking his lower lip between mine as I slip one venom slick finger into him and he moans into my mouth. He's tight around my fingers as I stretch him, open him, and I want to sink my cock deep within him. I don't want to wait...

"Yes, now, please..."

I shift, lifting him, and I align my cock and then press forward with excruciatingly slow force. We groan in unison as I slip past the initial resistance, and then I slowly drive deeper, our lips falling away from each other to rest our faces, breathless, gasping on the other's shoulder.

His legs are wrapped around my waist, his arms around my neck, and I pull him down onto me until I'm seated fully within him. He's so tight on my cock I can barely think and the only thing that comes through is the hope that I'm not hurting him; I don't wanna hurt him because he feels so good.

"I'm fine," he gasps against my neck as he rocks his hips against me, urging me to move and so I do, shoving him hard up against the rough bark of the tree. Gripping his hips I pull back slowly. Is it me or him growling? I plunge back into him hard, and then I do it again.

He grunts softly with every thrust, and it's me doing this to him.

"Yes, Jacob, you feel so good, more, please..."

So I give him more, taking him harder, deeper, faster, the tree creaking with every thrust, our bodies crashing together, his stone cock grinding against my stomach and I'm close―so close. I speak the first words to him aloud since this whole thing started: "Come for me, leech," and he cries out, gasping, clenching around me, ice cold streams of venom or come or whatever it is pumping out onto our stomachs. I let go, growling, releasing into him, filling him as the tree shudders ominously above us.

He's still, a dead man impaled on my softening cock. My body is heaving; I'm catching my breath as the revulsion comes back to me. What have I done? I fucked a vampire.

Are you okay did I hurt you?

I want to shove him away but I slowly withdraw from his body and step back, wiping his release from my stomach with his shirt before I phase.

"I'm fine, Jacob," he whispers as he uses the defiled shirt as I did and pulls on his pants.

Thank god there's no one else in my head. I'm alone and I don't want them to know what I did. I want to get home fast before they come.

"Please, Jacob, don't go yet."

What? You wanna talk? This is fucked up! You think this is okay? It's not okay, it's wrong, you're a fucking vampire and I'm supposed to want to kill you!

I should want to tear him apart, end him. I'm a fucking werewolf.

I'm shaking, like I do before I phase but I'm already a wolf. I have to get the fuck out of here before the others know, so I turn away, but the last thing I see is him slumped against the tree, his arms around his knees.

I shouldn't care that he looks so broken. But I do. I did that to him.