A/N Stephenie Meyer owns Twilight, its characters and everything else. I merely own the laptop on which I wrote this. This is a story written for Beate73's birthday. Thanks to rmhale for betaing.

I leaned against the kitchen counter, growing restless as phone calls were made, angry words were thrown and the spotlights made me sweat like a bitch. Leave it up to Rosalie to decide that she had something better to do than to show up for a shoot. It wasn't like this hadn't been planned for months and already postponed twice due to my schedule. I finally managed to land a role in a film that started shooting in less than two weeks and rehearsals started yesterday. I was already on a shit-list and I really didn't want to fuck this up.

"Found her!" Mike yelled. "She's at the god damned spa." The last word fell off his lips like he just said that she was in a third world country deworming orphans or something equally sexy.

"Well?" the photographer asked, exasperated. "When can we expect her Majesty?" He rolled his eyes to emphasize his disdain.

Mike still had the phone to his ear and gave the photographer - Aro, I think his name was - a helpless shrug.

"Make sure she knows that if she's not here in fifteen, she's being replaced and I will see to it that Calvin Klein will refuse to work with her in the future."

Replaced. Please, let her get fucking replaced! I thought to myself, trying to appear nonchalant, which was fairly difficult standing in this makeshift kitchen with nothing but a robe and a pair of boxer briefs on.

I could see Mike off to the side violently whispering and grumbling into his phone, and flailing his arms as if the person on the other line could see how pissed off he was. It wasn't hard to imagine his frustration with the situation, for how would he line up someone else on such short notice? At the same time I could also see the gears in Aro's mind turning, looking for an alternative solution, lips pursed, brow furrowed, giving some of the crew a once-over and doing that retarded director's hand-frame thing. It took me all of four seconds to realize he was considering pulling in a crew member to take Rosalie's place. It would be a behind-the-scener's dream come true. I certainly didn't see anyone worthwhile, a few of the girls were definitely rocking the plain-Jane look, but had no shape to speak of. Groaning, I prayed that Aro didn't select Jessica, she was so small built that I doubted a pair of briefs would stay on her non-existent hips.

For once, Bella wasn't around for a shoot. That was a crying shame as she would look fantastic in a pair of tiny briefs and an A-shirt. Having her in the shoot would be rather difficult to explain, though since our very publicized break-up. The term "break-up" was very tongue in cheek, because even though she was seeing someone besides me, we never were technically together. However, when she fell in love with this Edward fella, I was very hard pressed to hold her back. She may had been my beard, but she was my friend first and foremost. I couldn't ask her not see the guy just to avoid blowing my cover.

And as it was, my cover was about to blown to fucking pieces anyway. Aro grabbed a PA by the elbow, turning him this way and that, manhandling him and giving him a rather thorough once over. I half expected Aro to ask him to turn his head and fucking cough. My breath hitched in my throat as Aro yanked up the hem on the front of his t-shirt to expose his tight, rippling abs, and I literally choked when Aro tugged the waistband of his jeans out slightly to take a peek at what he wore beneath the denim.

"Look at you," Aro purred. "You're already wearing the label." Spinning the poor guy around, he tugged the waistband of the back of his jeans out to get a look at his ass.

"Christ, pops, want me to just take the pants off?" The PA said with a roll of his eyes and a pop of his chewing gum.

"Well, it would be easier to assess the fit, so yes. Lose the jeans," he remarked, absently, as if he had no clue what the situation was doing to me. I held back a groan as I secured my robe around my waist.

Not only did he lose the jeans, but the PA reached behind his head to pull off his t-shirt, until he was standing amidst the rest of the crew in nothing but a pair of blue Calvin Klein boxer briefs. Aro did an excruciatingly slow walk around him, eyes appearing to burn red angry streaks into the guy's skin.

"They're a little big on you. They need to be more snug like Emmett's. Show him what I mean, Em."

I prayed the tiny squeak I heard in my ears did not just come out of my mouth. "Excuse me?" I wheezed. He did not just ask me to show this guy how my briefs were practically painted on like a second skin. "Um, you want him to take Rosalie's place?"

Deflecting was what I normally did best, though this time, I found myself backpedalling, because I apparently just insulted the PA. At least, that's what I gathered by the abrupt halt to his gum chewing.

"Um...wait. That's not what I meant. Aro's got a great eye, man, I'm not doubting that but...can't we get someone who is, you know, uh...not a dude?"

Please just keep talking long enough for me to get rid of this boner!

"Emmett, I was told you were versatile, that you could work with anyone. I would hate to have a talk with your agent and let her know that she was mistaken," Aro grumbled, his words dripping like aggravated acid.

"Sir, I can work with anyone...this is just the first time I've been asked to work with a guy. I'm a little out of my element."

Of course, that was a crock of shit, when you take into account that my element was taking some hot thing I met at the club back to my apartment, sucking him dry and fucking him stupid. Of course, I wouldn't be doing that for the CK shoot, but still...

"What's your name, kid?" Aro asked the PA, who was standing next to him with one arm cocked behind his back and his other hand tugging at the leg band of his briefs.

"Jasper Whitlock." He answered Aro, but he looked at me and I knew there wasn't a chance in hell that my boner would go away.

Just as Aro motioned for the wardrobe girl to bring over the rack of way too many pairs of masculine undergarments, I quickly crossed over to Jasper Whitlock, PA and Underwear Model Extraordinaire and grabbed him by the arm, practically dragging him out of the studio to the closest restroom. To Jasper's credit, he didn't seem to mind that I was parading him around in his underwear; he certainly didn't struggle to pull out of my grasp. Finding salvation in a men's room sign, I pulled him in with me, checked the stalls, and finally turned the lock on the outer door.

I felt like I was about to throw up because I knew it was either tell him about my sexuality now, or let him be shocked and possibly repulsed by it when he discovered that I was as hard as fucking granite because of him. His face was utterly calm, reflecting none of the worry I was projecting, nor the anxiety that was surely pouring off me in crushing waves.

"Dude, I thought that it was just chicks that had to take a piss in pairs," Jasper scoffed, absurdly popping another tiny bubble in his chewing gum.

His dark blond hair appeared to hang past his chin, but he had it pulled back in a short ponytail, exposing hair closely cropped to the sides of his head, as if at one point it had been shaved completely. Light stubble clung to his jaw, dusting the muscles that clenched and unclenched as he worked his gum mercilessly.

"Jasper, I'm gay." Up front and direct. Honesty was the best policy, right?

The corner of his mouth quirked, twitching into the sexiest fucking smirk I ever had the pleasure of witnessing. And God damn it, if that smirk, and the slightest flash of teeth didn't make me infinitely harder.

Jasper Whitlock, I hereby dub thee Smirky McFuckMe.

"So that's why you were reluctant to show me the goods?" he asked, his smirk morphing into a smile as he crossed his arms across his chiseled pecs. "Mind showing me now, how well those briefs fit you, Mr. McCarty?"

"You serious?" I croaked.

"As a heart attack," he answered, unabashedly staring at my crotch through the robe.

"Are you...?"

"Gay as an angel in a trench coat," he answered, motioning towards the tie of my robe with his hand and quirking an eyebrow.

Did he just make a crack at Supernatural? Of course, I'm still crossing my fingers that Dean drops the straight act around Castiel just once...

Lost in my haze, my hands moved to the tie of my robe without a direct order from my brain, and after loosening the knot, I full on flashed the man. Like a pervy angel in a trench coat.

"I could see how that might be a problem," Jasper said, openly gazing at my problem.

"Ya think?" I asked with a half chuckle.

If it were possible, his smile got even wider, full of gleaming white teeth and dimples for miles.

"So, that's for me?" he asked and fucking licked his lips.

I had a sudden vivid vision of this smirky, scruffy, dimply pretty boy on his knees for me and I just knew that if he so much as touched me right then, that I would burst like a cheap water balloon.

"I'd be happy to alleviate some pressure if you want," he said, his voice suddenly deeper and full of grit.

He moved so quickly, I almost didn't see him toss his chewing gum in the wastebasket before he was on his knees and nuzzling my hard-on, the head of which was peeking over the waistband of my white briefs in happy glistening greeting.

Okay, so I was wrong about exploding right away. He's touching me, quite enthusiastically, I might add, rubbing his face all up in my junk and my fingers are fucking itching to grip his head and hold him still while I attempted to fuck his face through my underwear.

"Say the word, McCarty and I'll do it," he said, running the tip of his nose up the length of my erection.

Swallowing hard a couple of times, I murmured, "The word."

Jasper pulled back to look up at me, confused for a moment before realization dawned on his pretty face and he let out a small snort of laughter. "Smart ass."

He hooked his fingers in the waistband of my briefs and began to tug the tight fabric off my hips, slipping his hands to the back and scratching his blunt nails into the flesh of my butt.

"You keep talking about ass, and you're gonna find yourself turned around and on all fours, Jasper."

"I'll have to remember that," he chuckled, right before he wrapped his smirky lips around my cock.

"Sweet mother of...mmmmph..." I groaned, tilting my head back, squeezing my eyes shut and biting my lip.

Scruffy Smirktastic wasted no time and immediately began bobbing his head, slurping and sucking my dick. When I brought my eyes back to his face and saw that he was watching me, green eyes glittering beneath his fluttering eyelashes as he worked me, I knew I was a goner.

"Fucking hell, Whitlock. God damn it, that's hot," I moaned.

Some people were natural born writers, others natural born musicians or athletes. Jasper Whitlock was a born cocksucker and I was incredibly close to showing him my appreciation for his gift.


I watched in awe as he pulled his mouth off of me, kept his lips parted with his tongue barely hanging out in offering, while his long fingers rapidly pumped my length. In seconds, I shot in his mouth. Well, mostly in his mouth. My body jerked, causing a bit of my pleasure to land on his cheek, speckling his scruff as he chuckled with his mouth still open.

Without even thinking, my hand drifted to his cheek, collecting a bit of the warm pearly liquid there. His head immediately turned to take my fingers into his mouth.

"Shit, you're killing me," I choked.

Smirk back in place, he stood to his feet and pulled my briefs back up to cover me before nonchalantly going to the sink to splash some water on his face. After grabbing some paper towels to dry himself, he smiled and asked, "What now? I don't even know what the hell I'm supposed to be doing in the shoot."

Blinking, I emitted an eloquent, "Huh?"

Oh yeah, there's supposed to be a photoshoot going on, isn't there?

"I dunno, just um, just use your judgment, I guess. Haven't been given any direction yet. All I know is that we'll be in a fucking kitchen," I finally answered with a chuckle.

We eventually made our way back to the studio to meet an exasperated Aro holding his hands up in the air. "Can we please get this show on the road? That is, if it's convenient for you."

Jasper swiftly changed into a pair of, incredibly snug-fitting black briefs. If he hadn't helped me "relieve some pressure" only minutes before, I would have had an even bigger problem then I had before this whole shebang started.

"Good GAWD, these are tight!" Jasper exalaimed before doing a couple of squats in an attempt to stretch them out.

"Stop. It," I growled, to which he chuckled before standing, hopping up and down on balls of his feet.

"Today, gentleman," Aro grumbled, checking some mysterious setting on his camera.

Jasper, as it turned out was quite the natural. Of course, starting out, our initial instructions were to do some simple random natural stuff around the kitchen: rummage around in the fridge, eat a piece of fruit, wash dishes. I actually started to get aggravated with that last instruction. How was my washing some plates gonna help Calvin Klein sell some underwear? Did I ask that? That would be a negative. I was, however, grateful that Aro didn't give some kind of direction requiring Jasper to touch me. I was fairly certain he planned to have Rosalie fawning all over me, hanging on me, grabbing me, all out molesting me...thank fuck Aro didn't seem to have that in mind with Jasper.

Leave it to Jasper, though to get creative and decide that it would be a good idea to make a PB&J. Aro didn't seem to mind; I could hear the rapid-fire clicks from his camera. Apparently, he thought it was good stuff. I turned around, leaning my back against the sink, and watched him with my arms crossed over my chest. He had his back to the adjacent counter holding a slice of bread as he spread some grape jelly on top of his peanut butter before he bit his lip and smirked at me.

I didn't have time to react before he flung a glob of jelly off the knife, hitting me square in the chin.

Oh, no you didn't!

I could hear chuckles from the crew and I stood there, mouth agape before taking a swipe of the jelly with my hand.

"You wanna play?" I whispered. "I can play."

I quickly reached behind me to grab the sink sprayer, turning the faucet on full blast before letting the icy water loose. His voice jumped half an octave as he cried, "Oh, SHIT!" and dropped his half sandwich and the jelly slinger, attempting to shield himself from my attack.

"There ya go, Emmett. Don't stop. Let him have it!" Aro coached.

I pulled the sprayer out as far as it would go and managed to grab Jasper by the shoulder, holding him still while I let my ammo rain down on his head. I should have been paying attention to what his hands were doing, because I never saw that he happened to get a couple handfuls of peanut butter out of the jar before he broke free of my grasp and smushed the stuff in my face.

"You son of a bmmmphhh!" The shit was every where, in my mouth, up my nose...enough was enough.

I ducked down and grabbed him around the waist, hoisting his lean frame into the air and throwing him over my shoulder in a fireman's carry. "Uh huh! What now, hot shot?"

Before the last word left my mouth, I felt a stinging slap on my ass and I nearly dropped him. Instead of dropping him, I bit my lip and slapped his ass just as hard, earning a yelp that was fucking music to my ears. Victorious that I seemed to have gotten the best of him, I turned around and tossed him, dripping and laughing onto the counter top. I couldn't help but laugh along with him right up until he caught me by surprise...again...and smeared two sticky jelly covered hands down my face. Apparently taking advantage of my surprise, he leaned in and fucking licked my cheek before wiping the back of his hand across his face.

"You think you're fucking funny?" I growled at him and got a pair of raised eyebrows and a triumphant grin in response.

Ignoring the chuckling from the crew, I decided to turn the tables. I grabbed his face in my hands and kissed him.

I fucking kissed him in front of God and everyone.

The cat was defintely out of the bag...or so I thought until I heard a couple random voices behind me whisper, "I knew it!"

And the clicking of Aro's camera never stopped.

A/N Thanks for reading!