Title: Vision

Author: mamdi

Genre: AU (For lots of reasons, but especially for one particular vampire trait that is not in the Twilight canon.)

Pairing: Edward/Jasper

Rating: M

Word Count: 7,993

Summary: ::VAMPSLASH CONTEST:: The boys are alone in New York City. Edward is having trouble reading Jasper's thoughts and Emmett is fed up with the tension between them.

"You two with your emo crap! Shit! Get a grip and bite someone, will ya?"

Emmett's fist pounds the heavy steel door before he yanks it open and storms out. It shudders in its frame as it crashes shut behind him.

Jasper goes back to his Ken Burns documentary as though he's unruffled, but I can hear anger and frustration radiating off of him. It's unarticulated emotion. I have to wonder if he's practicing. More and more often it's as though he's halted all intellectual processes in my presence, merely refracting emotion. When he does it I can't decipher whether they're his emotions or if he's projecting something back to me. Perhaps with Jasper the distinction is meaningless. It bothers me though, because some of what I hear…feel…is disturbing, and I can't be entirely certain it doesn't start with me.

Most frustrating is that I don't know if he's thinking. Could it be that there's no thought going on at all? The possibility stings like all envy does. My own mind is a riot of thought and voices, mine mixed with thousands, hundreds of thousands, sometimes seemingly millions around me.

New York City was such a shit idea.

It was my shitty idea, of course. After the others left, Jasper and Emmett looked to me for a decision. I'm the last person to be leading this cursed crew. But I'd been with Carlisle the longest, and Carlisle had all the answers.

I'm not Carlisle. They know this, of course. Still, they left it to me to choose a new home when Forks became unbearable.

I thought we needed a city. We needed a place big enough and wild enough to absorb Emmett and Jasper's rage, and my own sickness - someplace more dangerous than we are.

My eyes are on Jasper, searching his face for information I should be able to glean from his mind. His scent is thick in the room, and changing. Something else I've noticed lately. One minute he smells like the Jasper I've known for decades, and the next minute there's something else in the air. Something I remember from before. It reminds me of the forest when we hunt. It reminds me of the house in Forks, at night, when I was left alone. It makes me thirsty.

It makes me hungry.

It's loud in here. The TV volume is low, but our neighbors on both sides and above are home, and several are mentally perseverating on the banalities of their existence. I try to tune them out but I can only manage to muffle them. Beyond the apartment building the Friday rush hour crowd is teeming past with workweek worries and weekend fantasies. It's 6:38 pm. There would be light if we got much in our ground-level apartment, but the only light in the room is the small one over my sheet music at the piano, where I'm sitting, and the light from the TV.

Jasper is shaking his head at some perceived flaw in the history Burns is dishing, but I still don't hear the thoughts apparent in his expression. Instead, I hear the same low-level anxiousness, anticipation, that I've been hearing increasingly often over the past few months. It's driving me mad. It's tinged with something else that I can't put my finger on. It's foreign and yet I know it. I'm blocking, too. I recognize that and yet I can't seem to get past the lump that jams up my throat whenever the thoughts begin to form around the emotions.

I turn my attention back to the piano keys and slam out a loud, discordant phrase. It's a piece of modern music that Emmett hates and that makes Jasper edgy. For some reason, I want Jasper edgy. I think I want him to talk to me.

I taste the venom in my mouth even before I feel his eyes on me. There is indeed some thought going on because I see myself through his eyes. He registers me. I'm a mess. Hair overgrown, dark green t-shirt frayed at the hem. His eyes wander down my back and I feel the tension growing as they settle on the exposed skin at my waistband. My jeans are sitting low, and my underwear is hanging out. He huffs. Out loud? I'm not sure. I hear humor though. Must be the jungle scene on my boxer briefs. It was meant to be funny. I bought them as a novelty in a vain attempt to prod my sense of humor, but now they make the weekly rotation without notice.

Jasper knows I'm watching him watching me, and his eyes leave my back to dart around the dim apartment. Fragments of thought reach me, but I can't put them together into a coherent whole. At least, my own mind won't let me. Again, I have an awareness of an idea gnawing at the fringes of my consciousness but something like self-preservation prevents me from turning to face it head-on. The emotional tenor in the room is frantic for a few moments while Jasper struggles to muzzle his own word-thoughts and bring himself back under control.

His eyes return to the TV and after he wills calm around him, he begins to allow the narrative to penetrate. I've lost him to the civil war and I realize I'm disappointed.

My cell is ringing on top of the piano and I discover hours have passed without registering. I'm still sitting at the piano bench, but no longer aware of myself. It isn't entirely accurate anymore to say I don't sleep. I lose consciousness for long periods and have for years. I don't remember that happening when I lived with Carlisle. Then I thought of nights as welcome time to myself. Occasionally tedious, but never were those stretches long enough to lead to blackouts.

I black out almost daily now. I'm not sane, but without an off-switch I'm fairly certain I'd be a raving lunatic. I know it's Emmett who's shaken me out of my stupor, and yet I welcome the ringing phone as though it's something new. It never will be, but the promise is there.

I put the phone to my ear and listen.

"Hey, bro, it's Emmett." Obviously. There are only two people in the world who care that I exist and one of them is on the couch, lost in a PBS marathon. I have no idea what time it is or how many hours have passed like this. I hear the unmistakable drone of Antiques Roadshow. It must be late.

"Yes," I answer, trying to keep the sarcasm out of my voice. I have no need to antagonize Emmett further.

"Listen, Edward, come out tonight." Emmett is speaking loudly and I can hear thumping music and the noises of a club around him. I'm not sure I have the energy to respond.

"Edward, things are fucked up," Emmett yells into the phone. He knows I could hear him whisper. He's exercised. "We're going to fix it. You and Jazz need to get out of the apartment, man. Please…for me. Just fucking try. For me." It's hard to tell through all the background noise and his booming voice, but I think I hear an undercurrent of genuine desperation…or maybe it's resolve...in Emmett's speech. It's unlike him, whatever it is, and it is just enough to move me.

"Where are you?"

"In the meatpacking district. It's a club. Or more like a private party. I'll give you the address. The bouncer's cool. Text when you get here."

When I hang up Jasper is already heading toward his bedroom. I assume he heard Emmett through the phone and understands that he's coming with me, but I panic and wonder if he's going to try to beg off. I hate spying on him. I should follow him down the hall and ask him. Why is it so hard to talk to him?

All of a sudden I'm overwhelmed with an emotion that until a few months ago was completely foreign to me. Like so much these days, I don't have words for it. It's painful - the closest thing to pain I'll know in this existence. It isn't quite like what I felt when Carlisle left, but it's in that family of emotion. What is it?

I miss him.

It strikes me and I'm stunned for a second. That's it. I miss him. He's down the fucking hall. I spend almost every hour of every fucking miserable day with him. And I miss him.

Still, I can't bring myself to follow him, so instead I watch through his eyes as he heads for his dresser and begins to rifle through his t-shirt drawer. He's got loud music running through his head. The lyrics are angry and I think he's not so much working to keep me out as he's trying to tell me something.

I force myself to leave him alone and head toward my own room to change. At least I know he's coming with me.

We're at the door and I need to hear his voice. "What's that awful heavy metal in your head?"

He chuckles and meets my eyes, humor flashing in his. "You're such a dork, E. It's not metal, it's the Foo Fighters. It's practically bubble-gum pop." All of a sudden his mood shifts and I see the smile drain from his face. "You should listen to the fucking lyrics."

With that Jasper is halfway down the hall. I know I'm being an ass. I just can't figure out what to do differently.

It's nearly midnight when we hit the street and the sidewalk crowds from Delancey up to Houston along Rivington are boisterous. Jasper is in the mood to walk – a rare stray thought - and so we wind our way west.

The city is loud enough at night that the voices in my head blend into a general cacophony. I take comfort in the occasional whisper of Jasper's inner voice as he notices enough of the street life to convince me that he's still with me. Jasper moves gracefully. I think it would be hard to mistake him for human.

It's been almost an hour since Emmett called by the time we reach the nearly empty block where he directed us. I hear drunk and drugged out thoughts from the revelers behind the walls, but outside it looks like a forgotten corner of the city. I text Emmett and stand with my back to Jasper waiting for the door to open on what looks like an old warehouse. Jasper's eyes are closed, and his mind is focused on the song from before. I catch a line and swing around to meet Jasper's impassive face. Goddamn it, look at me!

The door swings open and the wiry bouncer nods us into the vestibule, interrupting the lyrics Jasper had asked me to hear. Tattoos crawl out from under his black t-shirt, winding up his neck and down his arms. Intricate designs with no obvious meaning other than their artistry. His blood smells thin.


"Yes." I look him in the eye and he sees what he's looking for. He nods to Jasper, who's silent behind me. All I hear from him is the same appraisal I've just made of the bouncer.

The bouncer steps back to let us pass into the narrow hall and up the long staircase. Jasper is close behind me and halfway up the stairs I feel his hand on the small of my back. He leaves it there only a few moments but long enough that the tension that's been building all day is released at the spot where his touch finds me through the thin cotton of my shirt. The air is cloying in the corridor and probably hot, but all I feel is the cool outline of his palm and fingers against my skin.

At the top of the stairs there's another thick, steel door and behind it music and bodies. I find Emmett's voice before pushing the door open, and lead Jasper through the cavernous space to where Emmett's making small-talk with the bartender. Jasper and I stand shoulder to shoulder as Emmett pulls us both in for a bear hug. It's awkward. It's been a long time since Emmett showed any affection for either of us.

While he's got us in his grip, Emmett pleads into my ear, "E, man, can you stay out of our heads for a bit? Just give Jasper a break? The kid needs a break." The only reason to speak the words is so Jasper can hear them. I look over Emmett's shoulder and catch Jasper's eye.

His expression is sheepish, almost ashamed. And it's with shame that he thinks, "I'm sorry, Edward."

My hollow stomach lurches. Is that what's going on here? Is Jasper drained from protecting the privacy of his thoughts? Is he that sick of me? Is he ashamed of it? I back away from Emmett with my eyes fixed on Jasper. My best friend. Have I been torturing him? Is that what all this misery lately has been about?

"Why did you ask me to come?" I blurt. I have no right to feel wounded when I'm the one with this curse. But why not get away from me if it's that bad?

"Dude, chill out." Emmett lays a heavy hand on my shoulder and pulls me back in close. "I know you can't help it. We both do." I look to Jasper again who is pleading with me silently to take Emmett's words to heart.

"I'm just saying, if you can, try to give us a little break here. Focus somewhere else. I need to talk to Jasper. I think he could use a minute." He pulls me into a playful headlock and rubs his knuckle into my skull.

"We're gonna dance, man! I brought you here to dance. Lose yourself a little." I'm not fighting him and when he lets me go he's wearing a broad smile and begging me to back off the precipice where I was standing only a moment ago.

I summon all my will and loosen my limbs. I hate my own mind. I wish for silence the way others wish for wealth or power. I would give anything to turn it off. I can't. I can only do my best to focus on voices other than those dearest to me. Tuning Jasper out is the hardest of all. My mind is trained on his thoughts from years of listening. It's unconscious.

I nod to them both. "Sure, I'll do my best. Not a lot of coherent thought in here aside from you two, though."

It's true. People's thoughts when they dance tend to be fragmented anyway. With a thumping bass to grab the body, booze, and no small amount of psychedelics in the room, most of what I hear is lust.

Emmett winks and Jasper lets the sorrow pass out of his expression. I feel a wave of the same emotion I felt back at the apartment earlier. I miss him.

Emmett plants a hand squarely on each of our backs and steers us away from the bar toward the dance floor. I hear Jasper's hesitance and quickly search the room for something else to focus on. The DJ is thinking about the music in his own way. Not exactly with words, but he's paying attention to the beat and watching the crowd for a sign of where to lead them next. I try to anchor myself firmly in his mind and let the rest dissolve into white noise.

The crowd is thick, and soon I no longer feel Emmett's hand. I force myself not to look for him or Jasper. I press my cold body through the heat of flesh and find a space to start moving. My senses are impossible to deaden the way humans do when they crawl inside their heads to dance, but I can close my eyes and hone my attention to the music. I'm listening to the beat, to the DJ, and feel the wall of sound close in around me. It's what I need and I remind myself to thank Emmett just as I lose myself.

I'm not unconscious the way I was earlier at the piano bench, but similarly unaware of time passing. It's rare and precious to lose time. The music changes and my body moves with it. Every once in awhile a human body will press up against mine. No one here is aware enough to notice what I am. The scents of blood mixed with alcohol and drugs are tempting, but not enough to make me truly dangerous tonight. But I move away because I have nothing to give back to the bodies that want something more from me. I don't exist.

I don't know how long I've been dancing and my body knows no fatigue. It's only the eventual wandering of my mind that leads me out of the private space I've been in. Without thinking, I'm pulled toward Jasper's thoughts and all of a sudden I hear my name. "Edward."

I look around but can't immediately locate him, and I'm still working to keep myself out of his head. Still, I heard him. I heard my name.

I start to snake through the crowd in search of Jasper and Emmett. I'm adept at tuning out the lust of others, but I don't always succeed. As I push my way through the crowd and its thoughts press in on me with new clarity, I find myself getting hard. I've made a practice of ignoring my body's needs and shift my erection in discomfort.

I stop moving somewhere in the middle of the dance floor and tilt my head back to look up at the ceiling. Being in my body like this is torture and I would light myself on fire in this instant if I could. I breathe through my mouth and my nose, supplicant to the stinging scent of desire.

Finally, I lower my head and scan the crowd in earnest.

I see them.

At first I can't make sense of what I'm seeing, but then I stagger back as a bitten part of my mind registers the vision before I can articulate the thought.

Emmett is facing me, but his eyes and his mouth are invisible, buried behind Jasper's face. One of Emmett's immense, muscled arms is bent, cradling the back of Jasper's head in his monster paw. The other arm is curled around Jasper's waist, his hand splayed on Jasper's ass. I can only see the back of Jasper's head, but it's clear that Emmett's lips are locked on his. They're kissing, deep, and their bodies are pressed close.

I stumble into soft bodies behind me. The room is spinning but I work to gain my balance. The growl building in my throat is too low to be heard over the bass line of the music, but it's enough to break into Emmett and Jasper's moment. My ears are buzzing and I can't hear anything but the screaming protestations of my own mind. Emmett pulls away fractionally and catches my eye over Jasper's shoulder.

His expression is bewildering. It's not hostile, nor guilty. He looks concerned. Then I hear him.

"Edward! Edward, don't! Don't run." Emmett is pleading with me directly, and a wave of confused rage undulates through my body. How could he? How could they? What could he possibly expect from me?

I'm stuck to the spot by his words, unable to look away from the sight of his arms around Jasper. Unable to escape the overwhelming pain caused by the sight.

"Edward! Jesus Christ, Edward!"

He's angry with me. He has the fucking nerve to be angry with me? His tone is almost exactly the tone I heard this afternoon when he stormed out of the apartment.

My head is shaking an unconscious refusal to hear what it is he's trying to tell me. I don't care what it is. I'm furious. Furious at Emmett. Furious at my existence. Furious at the mutiny of my dick over my mind as my erection strains against my jeans.

At the precise moment when I think I can pull my eyes away from them and run, Emmett grips Jasper and spins them around so that Jasper's penetrating golden stare is now the one that meets me. Emmett is whispering something in his ear and I hear the words through his thoughts.

"Tell him, Jasper. For christ's sake, tell him."

Jasper's look is pleading, too, but it's a different plea. He's not angry, not demanding. He wants something, badly.

"Edward. …I want…you, Edward. Fuck! Edward…it's you." His mind's cry is desperate and sad and it goes straight to my gut. "I'm so sorry, Edward, but I don't know what to do. It's been you…for so long…"

I'm moving toward him now, my only thought his eyes and his mouth and the words that make no sense but cut through all my confusion at once.

As I move, Emmett releases Jasper and steps aside without turning. I hear him whisper, "He's yours, Edward. Don't fucking blow it." Then Jasper is coming toward me and our hands reach out for an altering touch.

Jasper's fingers meet mine tentatively, for a moment, and then he grasps my hand firmly with his. Belying the conviction of his strong grip is the anxiety and uncertainty in his expression. The thought that I've been working so hard to prevent from taking shape in my mind over the past months has suddenly bloomed, and now that I see it, it's glorious. It's a towering, exotic plant, with vibrant reds and yellows and tendrils that could very well harbor poison. It's far too beautiful to be ignored. I'm terrified by it. Awed by it. Most striking, though, is the relief I feel at the sight of it. I'm like a man who has just narrowly escaped death. I feel alive.

I squeeze Jasper's hand and lean toward him, resting my forehead on his. It's impossible but there's heat between us. I want him to feel what I'm feeling. With my forehead on his I tilt my mouth to his ear.

"I'm yours, Jasper. I think it's been true for a long time."

I lean back to catch his eyes and he's beaming at me. It's a smile I haven't seen in decades. It's perhaps the most beautiful smile I've ever seen. I squeeze Jasper's hand and run my other up his bare arm and across the t-shirt pulled taught against his chest. He's watching my face and his mind is racing. This time I don't mistake it. It's desire. Affection. Understanding. I feel these things so strongly myself I can hardly distinguish Jasper's thoughts from the emotions evoked by the sensation of his solid body under my hand.

This is complicated. This is so fucked up. If I let my mind go I'll be spinning back toward everything we've lost. But in this moment there's Jasper's flesh and his mind, and that gorgeous smile, and I don't want to think about anything else.

"We need to get out of here, Jasper."

He nods.

I look around quickly to find Emmett but he's gone. Then Jasper is leading me down the stairs and this time it's my hand on his back.

There's a desperate edge in the air in the corridor now. I'm inhabiting my body in a way completely foreign to me. It's not as though I never get hard, but not like this. My cock is pumping desire through my human remains and the physical burn is laden with emotions. I'm aware of my muscles and my bones and the palms of my hands. I'm aware of my scalp and my ears. My lips. It's desire that's specific. There's a lump in my chest that is only going to go away if I can get my mouth to Jasper's soon.

We hail a cab as soon as we get to Hudson and sit tightly against each other. His hand is on my thigh, high enough that his pinky is rubbing against my erection through my jeans. I'm throbbing. My own hand is lower, at Jasper's knee. He's as scared as I am. I've never done this. But neither has he. Not really. Not like this.

He's my best friend. I trust him. I'm not sure what he wants, but whatever it is I'll give it to him.

We speed across town and I feel peace settling underneath the energy buzzing between Jasper and me. The pleasure radiating from the tiniest scrape of Jasper's pinky against my clothed cock is strong enough to settle into my limbs and my gut, and my throat. I feel the edge of my emptiness easing. Jasper's thoughts and emotions are so similar to my own they blend in harmony in my mind. The boundaries of our nearly indestructible bodies are distinct but already I've ceased to feel alone.

I let Jasper lead me into the apartment, his firm grip at the back of my neck as I unlock the door and let us into the darkness.

"Go to your room, Edward," Jasper whispers from behind me, his lips brushing my earlobe. "Wait for me."

I'm arrested by the command in his voice. I feel my strength go soft for a moment from the mere tickle of his breath. I want this so badly. I'm terrified, but the fear is only a facet of the need.

I will my legs to move me away from Jasper's grip in the direction of my room and stay focused on the awakening sensations in my own body while Jasper disappears down the hall. For the first time in my memory it takes no effort to stay out of his head. My mind is quiet - at utter peace with itself.

I sit at the edge of my bed and realize I can't see. There's nothing wrong with my senses but they're trained inward, for once fully occupied with this body I would have gladly shed only hours ago. I nudge off my shoes and socks and work on steadying my breath.

The moment Jasper enters, the energy in the room shifts. He's barefoot as well, and shirtless. There's something in his front jeans' pocket. My self-awareness turns to a complete fixation on him through the same sensations of lust and vibration that just had me in their grip. I'm overwhelmed by the beauty of his form. I've always seen it. His height and strength, the roll of long muscles down his arms and legs and across his abdomen.

I look up then, into his eyes. It's him. My best friend. The person who knows me better than any other being. He's looking at me with the same eyes I've stared into for decades. He mirrors my affection for him. Love. It's so plain and yet startling. And along with everything we know about each other in this stare is the look of longing for something we don't yet have.

I can see the outline of his erection and my own twitches at the sight. He comes toward me and my fingers tingle with the need to touch. He puts his hands on each of my biceps and brings me to my feet, never breaking eye contact. I look up at him as I rise stiffly, scared and completely sure.

"Edward, I'm going to kiss you," Jasper tells me. "And then I'm going to fuck you. Are you sure you want this?"

"Yes," is all I can manage.

"I need you to be sure. I need you to be here with me," he adds, urgently.

I nod and watch his lips moving. I look up and see that he understands.

Jasper's eyes are fixed on mine as he leans down slowly and molds his lips to mine. His hand has moved up around the back of my neck and I shiver from the touch. It's my first kiss and I feel lightheaded bliss at the connection. Something warm is spreading through my center and the firm, soft feel of his lips on mine is the most exquisite thing. My eyes close and I lean into his body, relishing the strength and comfort of his chest against mine. He bites my bottom lip, his razor sharp teeth carefully pressed into my own nearly impenetrable skin. We explore each other's lips and face with mouth and hands. Jasper's tongue tastes like he smells, like sun-baked earth and blood. I can almost taste his blood in my mouth.

My breath is coming fast. The pleasure of his kiss and touch is lighting desire in my limbs and down into my balls. I realize I'm rubbing my erection against Jasper's hip until he pulls away with his hands on my chest. I pant and push toward him, needing to feel more.

Jasper clicks his tongue and nods down at my cock.

"Your pants, Edward. Take them off."

I reach for him but he takes another step back. With his eyes following my hands, I reach down and fumble with my button and zipper. His own hands drop to his cock and stroke through denim before he gracefully undoes his own jeans and pushes them down his legs, all the while watching my pants slide to the floor. Jasper isn't wearing underwear and his erect cock springs up toward his abdomen as his pants fall. It's thick and smooth with a deep vein running down one side. It's alive. It's the most human thing about Jasper and I taste venom under my tongue as I worship it for a moment.

I hear Jasper chuckle and look up to see his bemused smile, which slides quickly into an intense stare. My hands move urgently to the waistband of my briefs. I need to get my erection free. Before I can register the movement or catch the thought, Jasper's hands have caught mine at my waist. My mind is slow, I realize. And quiet.

"Uh, uh. I want to do that." Jasper grasps the hem of my shirt and pulls it over my head, then runs his hand down my chest, and lower, until his fingers curl over my erection through the briefs and rub once, causing my hips to jerk into his hand. He holds on tighter and then slides his other hand across my hip and over my ass, rubbing his palm in wide circles over both cheeks. Even through the cotton I can feel his fingers press slightly as his hand skims low and passes over my crack.

After a few wide circles his hand drops and his fingers reach between my legs from behind to caress my balls. My cock is growing in his hand and a rumble escapes from my chest. My head is bent and rests on his shoulder. His sure, gentle touch is more deadly to my strength than any predator I've faced. My legs are shaking. Every cell in my body is consumed with need I've never felt before.

"Those are sexy, Edward," Jasper says teasingly into my ear.

I can barely speak. "They were meant to be funny."

"I've wanted…" now Jasper's voice falters, "to see the whole scene for awhile."

His fingers are teasing my balls while his other hand rubs my rock hard cock. The weight of my head is still on his shoulder and I'm bracing myself with my hands on his biceps.

"I didn't know."

"I know."

"Emmett? How did he..? Why did he…?" The image of his hand on Jasper's ass chokes off my words.

"He's not as dumb as he looks, E. He figured it out a long time ago. He decided jealousy was the only way you'd see what was happening." Jasper's tone is tentative, almost as if he's afraid to admit this. His hands on my ass and my cock and teasing my scrotum are anything but tentative.

I lift my head and run a hand down Jasper's torso, amazed at the warmth of his skin. I look into Jasper's eyes as I grab his ass. I grab him hard and pull him closer. I was jealous. I am still jealous. I need every piece of Jasper. He's mine.

"It worked."

Jasper chuckles, his voice husky.

"I see that. I'm glad." His lips land hard on mine and he pushes my briefs down over my thighs, freeing me as he kisses my cheek, across my jaw, and down my neck. I step out of my briefs and then press my hips into his. Our cocks rub, locked between us. The feeling of the smooth, warm skin of his penis against my own is electric and intimate, and I'm already leaking pre-come. Perhaps for the first time in over one hundred years I'm grateful for my inhuman form.

Jasper is wet, too. He wraps his arms around me to move me a step back to the bed. When the back of my legs hit, he pulls away, leaving me cold and painfully hard.

"Sit, Edward," he says softly. I reach my hand out for his arm and he relents by moving closer, but pushes me onto the bed with subtle strength. He holds my hand for a second and I keep my eyes on his. Then he nods for me to move back, and as I slide toward the headboard he reaches down for his jeans to pull a tube out of the pocket.

He sees my quizzical look as he joins me on the bed. "I don't think we'll need this. But I've never done this, and…" His confidence is momentarily replaced with nerves. I grab him by the back of the neck and make him look at me.

"I trust you, Jazz. I want this."

Jasper leans in and runs his tongue along the corner of my mouth and across my cheek to my ear. He bites my earlobe and strokes it with his tongue, making me shiver again and arousing my body's sense of urgency. My back is against the headboard now and Jasper is on his knees, straddling my legs in a low crouch. Jasper and I have sparred many times. I know his strength and the grace of his movement. There is something deliciously familiar and also new and unexpected in feeling his body against mine like this. I'm not in his head, and I'm not anticipating his next move. I'm surprised and also comforted by the way his lips and tongue birth something in me.

Passion. I'm overwhelmed by it. It's suffused with love but it's also strong, a violent instinct ripping at my chest. I growl uncontrollably and push back against Jasper, rising and rolling him over onto his back to get him under me. With my body stretched out across his my mouth bites and kisses at his lips and neck and down to his nipple. His hands are grabbing at my hair as I run a tongue around the sweet, hard nipple and bite gently at it, causing him to moan and stiffen under me.

"Edward…" He wants to protest but I suck and nip and rub his other nipple with my fingers and he can't do anything but submit.

I kiss down the center of his abdomen, his bellybutton, and down the tiniest wisp of blond hair below it before lifting my head to admire his penis. It's beautiful and hard and I can see the vein pulsing under my gaze. I almost forget Jasper is watching me as I move in to taste the head. My tongue and lips wrap around him and he groans loudly. I grasp the bottom of the shaft and give a long stroke while I swirl my tongue around the glans and over the slit, relishing the taste of him leaking into my mouth.

"Jesus, Edward…" My sense of touch is so alert that the grip Jasper has on my hair is almost painful.

I lean up to take more of him into my mouth and discover I can pull him into the back of my throat easily. I cease breathing and let his smooth cock fill my airway as I slide my tongue underneath and stroke him where I know it feels best. I reach down with my hand and cradle his balls until he's bucking into my mouth.

"Fuck, Edward!" Jasper is grunting now and I look up to see his head thrown back and chin in the air. I start to stroke slowly, using suction to massage his length and pulling at his nipple with my free hand. The smell and taste and feel of him is so intense I start to rut against his leg, feeling my own pleasure building low and starting to spread into my abdomen.

I've lost track of time for the third time in less than 24 hours, but this time with blissful abandon. I've never been more alert. Never been more present. The movements of my mouth and hands, Jasper's panting gyrations, and the throbbing of my own cock blend together and I'm lost.

Jasper's voice changes and I can tell he's close. I search for his mind and all I can hear is the meeting of pleasure, his and mine. All of a sudden he stills and goes rigid underneath me. I stroke slowly with my mouth and splay my hand across his chest while his breath stops. He doesn't breathe for seconds, a minute. And then all of a sudden he comes hard in my mouth, his back lifting off the bed as he yells my name.

I swallow and continue to caress him with my tongue and cheeks, savoring the taste of him and the pleasure coursing through his body. He's only slightly less hard when I finally pull off of him and I can feel him growing in my hand as I stroke him and lift myself up to kiss his lips. His chest is rising and falling as though he needs the air and he puts his forehead on mine to still me.

"Edward…that was…fuck!"

I can't suppress a smile. I kiss him and wrap my arms around him, holding him while he regains himself. I'm so hard.

"How'd you learn to do that?" he asks gruffly.

I shrug. "Instinct. The internet."

"Fucking perv," he sneers pulling back and looking me in the eye.

"I'm a student of the world, Jazz," I smile at him, impossibly pleased with myself.

His expression shifts again. "That wasn't how this was supposed to go."

"Have you been planning?"

He smiles. "Not exactly. But I know what I want to do to you."

"I'm right here, Jazz. We've got time." I smirk and he grabs my shoulders and rolls me, pinning me under him.

His look erases my smirk and quiets me.

"You're hot, Edward. That was hot." He runs a finger across my neck and bends down to bite at my nipple. I'm paralyzed with anticipation.

He lifts his head again and looks concerned. "Can you hear my thoughts?"

I realize I haven't heard them since we left the club. "Not really. I'm not trying, but I don't usually have to with other people."


I look into his bright, amber eyes and see the warmth in them. I listen and there it is, crystal clear.

Can you hear me, Edward?

I nod.

I'm sorry.

I'm about to protest but he arrests the shaking of my head with his hand woven tight into the hair at the back of my head.

N,o Edward. Stop. I'm sorry for both of us. There's been too much pain. I want to erase that. I don't know how, except like this.

Jasper's eyes narrow and he pinches my nipple hard. It's a skilled touch. He could rip it off with the strength in his thumb and forefinger.

"Pain, Edward," he says out loud. "I don't know how to erase the kind we've had without a little like this." He's asking for permission.

My mind scrambles around for understanding. Jasper runs his hand, fingers spread wide, down my chest, stomach, and then grabs my cock roughly.

"Ungh," I grunt, the search for a thought ceasing instantly. I trust him.

I nod and his grip softens, beginning long strokes from base to tip. He leans back and scans my body from head to foot. I've never been naked with anyone like this. I feel known. Seen. "You're incredible, Edward."

Jasper reaches for the tube he'd left lying beside us on the bed with his free hand and then opens it with his teeth, all the while keeping eye contact. He's still stroking my cock and I'm struggling to keep my eyes open. My arms and legs are burning with pleasure and I don't know how long I can last before I come. It won't end this, but I'm still trying to hang on. I grab the sheets under me, trying not to force my hands through the mattress.

Jasper hands the tube to me and gestures with his chin. I lift myself up on one elbow and squeeze lube onto the fingers of Jasper's free hand. I can barely speak with his hand wrapped around my length.

I inhale and steady myself to look at him. "I thought we were going for pain."

His look is serious. "I doubt this could hurt you. I just wanna make sure it's smooth. I have a different kind of pain in mind."

I know where he's heading so I bend my knees and spread my legs to give him access. His hand skims my balls as he moves to spread the lube around my hole. It's warm and the sensation of his fingers on my nerve endings there opens something deep inside me. He pushes one, two, then three fingers in hard and spreads me open easily. He's right. There's no pain. My body molds around the exquisite pressure of his fingers.

Jasper pushes in further and curls his fingers up, hitting my prostate. "Oh, god!" My hips jerk and I feel a cord of pleasure strung between my cock and my insides.

As quickly as the pleasure spreads, it's gone. Jasper pulls his hands off of me and out of me and I'm up and reaching for him before I know it.

"Over, Edward," he rasps, and without waiting for me to turn he grabs my hips and flips me on my stomach. With his hands still on my hips, he lifts me to my knees and I steady myself on my hands. His movements are lightening fast and rough. I've never let him handle me. I've always fought or evaded. Now, I'm happily at his mercy.

I feel him line up behind me, spread my ass cheeks, and then he's pushing in slowly. There's still no pain, but intense pressure and fullness. He leans across my back and grabs a shoulder as he pushes in further.

"Jazz…" I huff out. "Jazz…"

"E…" his voice is choked. "Edward. You feel incredible."

He's still for a moment and breathing hard into my back. He wraps his free arm around me and grabs my cock. He doesn't stroke. He just holds me tight and then he starts to rock. At first small movements, but then harder. Quickly he's pulling out of me and pushing in. Faster and faster. And then he's slamming into me and the bed starts to creak under us. It's sturdy but there isn't furniture built for this.

He slams again and this time he hits my prostate. "Ahhhh, fuck!" I push back into him, my eyes rolling up into my head and I can't believe I haven't come yet. I've been so close since I had his cock in my mouth.

Jasper changes his angle so that he's higher over me and pushes me down onto my forearms. He leans over me, releasing my cock and lays both arms over mine. His mouth is at my ear.


He's waiting for a response and all I can do is grunt.

"Edward, I want to bite you." His words startle me and take me out of my body. They come from nowhere. I'm...

"Don't be scared, Edward." He's reading my mind now. "It'll hurt, but in a good way. I promise."

He slides his cock out almost to the tip and back in, thrusting to hit my prostate again.

"Jesus, fuck!" I'm back in my body and I can't form a coherent thought. I've never lost my mind like this. I'm so fucking crazy, but never like this. "Do it, Jasper. Whatever the fuck, just do it!"

He slows and pushes in deep until his balls hit mine. Then he stills. "I need this, Edward. We both need this."

I would give him my life so surely I can give him my blood. "Yes, Jasper. Yes. Do it."

He pulls out of me halfway, gaining better access to my neck. He nips at my earlobe and plants an open mouth kiss on the back of my neck. "Let go and feel it, Edward. It's gonna burn, but you'll see."

My ass is in heaven and my cock is throbbing but my instincts have me on alert. I tense as Jasper runs his sharp teeth over the skin under my jaw. And then his teeth rip into my nearly…not entirely…impenetrable flesh. His teeth sink in and the pain is consuming. My eyes close and all I see is blinding white, pain radiating from my neck into my head and down through my shoulders. As it moves, quickly, through my lungs and down my abdomen, it burns.

Behind the burn is something else. It's as though I'm conscious of every nerve ending in my body. It's as though I'm vulnerable. It's as though I have human flesh.

Jasper's lips caress my skin over his teeth and he's sucking hard at my blood. It lasts forever, and only a moment. Before I know it he's pulled away, and wraps his arms around my chest in a tight embrace. His cheek is on my back and his cock has pushed back in, filling me completely.

The sensation moving through my body is more than I can process. I feel…so much. The burn continues, but pleasure is now all around it and my cock is leaking. Throbbing and leaking. As if he really can read my mind, Jasper grabs it and starts to stroke again. He strokes my insides with his cock at the same time and I feel a tear at the corner of my eye. I can't cry. I shouldn't be able to cry. I shouldn't be able to feel like this.

The pleasure building is finally too much. "Jasper." His name is everything to me. He's everything to me. I feel my balls tighten and I exhale hard as I come in Jasper's hand, across my chest and the sheets. I'm shaking and Jasper holds me as I ride out wave after wave of a high that passes in layers of pain and pleasure through my sensitive flesh and softened insides.

I collapse on my side and after a lost stretch of time Jasper slowly pulls out of me. He climbs over me to sit in the curl of my chest and thighs. He passes a soothing hand through my hair and leans down to kiss my shoulder.

"Are you ok?"

I look up and pull my arm from underneath me and across my chest to lay my hand on his. "Yeah. Better than that…Weak."

"That'll pass. It's my venom in your blood."

"I like having you in me."

"Edward?" Jasper is waiting for me to read his mind and I can't. I could, but I don't have to. I wait. "Alice saw this. This is why they left."

A/N: So, this is my very first attempt at vampire fiction, and also at m/m slash. I really have no business writing this, but if nothing else it was great fun. This is a highly edited (cut) version of the draft I had…which was somewhere over 10k. I had to lose a lot of the backstory in favor of sex

Thanks to a friend not remotely interested in twilight - or boys, for that matter - who gave it a read. And thanks, too, to tuesdaymidnight for sage advice that I didn't do justice. It's hard to find the motivation to write with so many amazing authors supplying me with endless and absolutely fantastic porn to read.