Submission for: TwiKinkFest - twikinkfest (dot) tumblr (dot) com

Prompt: Edward / Jasper / Peter / Riley, M/M (any of the 4), AH, incest kink. Brothers who fool around. Maybe it starts as experimentation or practice for having girlfriends, but it escalates to full on sex. Shame, angst, maybe jealousy (if said girlfriends are involved). If you can't quite do full brothers, will accept half/step/adopted instead.

Rating: M

Warnings: incest, slash, sexually-active teenagers, child abuse mention.

This will be posted as 2 chapters. Big thanks to jadedandboring.

My mother is sober tonight. I should be relieved by this, not suspicious.

"I'm out for the night, boys. Be home in the morning. Stay out of trouble, yes?"

My older brother and I exchange glances. Maria's never told us she'd be out for the night; she just comes and goes as she pleases. She usually doesn't dress so nicely to go out, either. She almost looks respectful. I'm almost impressed.

As soon as she's gone, Jasper nudges me. "We can stay up all night watching horror movies!"

"What?" Horror movies are not my thing, but I can't ignore the way his face lights up. Like a kid's.

"Maria won't be home 'til tomorrow. We don't have to worry about her stumbling in piss-ass drunk at some ungodly hour and cleaning her up. We have the whole night to ourselves!"

"And you want to spend it watching horror movies." Something about this bothers me. Shouldn't Jasper want to throw a party or something? Isn't that what teenagers are supposed to want to do?

Jasper's already flopped on the couch and starts flipping through channels. He looks at me expectantly. "Aren't you coming, Peter? C'mom, let's have some fun for a change!"

He's so excited I can't bring myself to tell him horror movies will give me nightmares and I'd rather just stay in my room than watch them. I join him on the couch.

I don't remember sitting so close to him, but somehow, fifteen minutes into the movie, our arms are touching.

Oh, god. Not now.

That strange, fluttery feeling is swirling in my stomach. It always starts small, giving me hope I can make it stop just by ignoring it. But it grows and grows, even making my breathing shallower. The pulsing grows stronger and stronger, threatening to overwhelm me if I don't do something. What? I'm not exactly sure. If I'm alone when it happens, I can surrender to the feeling. Grab, squeeze, pull, whatever it takes to make it stop.

But in front of Jazz? No way. I have to suffer through, act like everything's normal.

And I know it's "normal"…normal in the way that it's normal to be an awkward teenager. Because every other boy your age is going through the same thing but no one would ever mention it so you feel alone anyway.

The last three times have been while I'm alone with Jasper. Pretty sure that's not normal.

My cheeks are burning, and I'm sure Jasper has seen the huge bulge in my crotch. I'm sure he's staring right at it and is totally disgusted by it. I sneak glances at him when I can, and though I never catch him actually looking at me, I know he's staring.

For once, I'm glad we're watching some slasher movie. Watching some chick get hacked up with a huge knife is one way to kill a boner.

I squeeze my eyes shut and then cover them with my hands, just to be sure. I hate looking like a wuss in front of Jasper, but if I watch this, I will have nightmares.

"You okay?"

"Just don't wanna watch this part." I try to maintain any sense of dignity while cringing like a coward.

I feel him shift next to me, and then his arm is around my shoulders. He turns my face towards his body and murmurs against my hair, "I'll tell you when it's over."

I'm grateful he's not teasing me for being afraid, but I also know for sure now that there's something very wrong with me.

Because that fluttery feeling is back.


Apparently "all night" to Jasper means until about three a.m. I'd already been dozing off and on, sometimes leaning on his shoulder. Every time I'd startled awake, I'd mumbled an apology and shifted over. Jasper never complained or seemed to care, and somehow I'd end up against him again.

Jasper stretches and jostles me awake again. "Let's go to bed."

I nod and stumble to my feet. I don't bother to do more than strip down to my boxers and crawl into my bed. Somehow, alone in the darkness of my room, with Jasper in his own room, I'm wide awake. It's so quiet that I can hear things. My heart begins to pound, but it doesn't drown out the eerie whistling sound that I know I'm not imagining.

There's a psycho in the kitchen grabbing a knife right now. I know it. He's going to come to my room and kill me. I won't even have time to scream.

The longer I'm sitting alone in my room, the more my imagination goes overboard. I'm sitting up in bed, and every noise makes my head turn. I squeeze my eyes shut. There's no way I'm going to be able to sleep alone in here.

I creep towards my bedroom door. It takes a minute before I find the courage to open the door. As soon as the door is open, I run across the hall - all two steps - and open Jasper's door. I don't knock and I don't pause 'cause if I do the psycho will get me.

There's only a tiny bit of light coming in from the window, but I can see Jasper in his bed. He hasn't moved. Already asleep. I don't want to wake him, and try to talk myself into going back to my own room. But my heart rate is already getting normal again. Even when he's sleeping, just his mere presence calms me.

I walk over to the side of the bed. "Jasper," I whisper, nudging his shoulder.

He moans and slowly his eyes open. "Peter?" He rubs his eyes and then sits up quickly. "What's wrong?" He's all concern, not a trace of anger.

Now that I'm standing here in front of him, I feel like an idiot. "I, um, well…Can I sleep in here with you?"

"I don't know if that's such a good idea."

"I know. I'm not a little kid anymore. I just… I'm kinda freaked out, you know?"

He smirks. "No more horror movies for you."


He slides over to the edge of the bed and pats the empty space next to him. I lay down, trying to find a comfortable way for two teenagers to fit onto a single bed. I'm super skinny but he's practically a man already at sixteen. The space on the bed where he was is warm. I want to snuggle into it.

Jasper rolls over awkwardly, facing away from me. "Good night."

"'Night. And thanks."

He hums. It feels like only minutes before his breathing is slow and deep again. I close my eyes and match his breathing.

Safe again.


I'm warm when I wake. It takes me a minute to remember that I'm not in my own room, but the arm wrapped around my waist makes that obvious. Jasper is pressed against my back. His breath tickles my shoulder.

I don't want to move; it's just too comfortable. I need to move before Jasper wakes up.

There's just no way the hide my tented boxers.

I slide his hand from my waist very gently, trying not to wake him. He stirs and closes his hand around mine in his sleep.

Oh, crap.

I'm lying in my brother's bed, half-naked. His arm is around my waist. He's holding my hand. And I have the largest boner I've ever had in my life.

I wiggle my way out from under Jasper's arm. He rolls to his stomach but stays asleep. I creep to the door, breathing a sigh of relief.

Just as I'm about to open the door, I hear, "'Morning. Sleep better?"

I pull my hand off the doorknob and turn. Jasper's propped himself up on his elbows. He has a half-grin on his face and bed head. I'm momentarily distracted from my problem before realizing the problem grows. Literally.

I remember too late. Before I can find something, anything, to hold in front of my crotch, Jasper laughs. "A little bit of morning wood there, eh?"

"Huh? Oh. Uh..." My brain has stopped working. "I ... um ..."

Jasper tilts his head. "It's okay, you know. Normal."

My brain tries to process. Normal?

"You do know that, don't you?"

I wonder if Jasper knows he had his arm around me. And how nice it felt. Would he think that was normal?

Jasper motions down to his lap. There's a slight bump. "Normal."

My breath comes out in a rush. If Jasper gets that too, then maybe it is normal. Maybe I am normal.

"Good." The relief in my voice is obvious.

"I know what you're going through, if you want to talk."

"No...I don't think...I couldn't." I'm sure my face is beet red. Yes, Jasper,I get hard-ons all the time when I'm around you. Did you happen to you?

Jasper's smile fades slightly. "I understand. Dr. Cullen was really helpful when I, you know, went through all that. I'm sure he'd be happy to talk to you, too. Answer any questions you –"

"No! I'm fine. Really." I turn and run from the room before Jasper can say anything else.

I turn around after closing Jasper's door and find myself face-to-face with my mother.

"What the hell is going on here?" For once, her breath does not reek of alcohol.

I try to stay calm, the way Jasper would be. It's not like we really did anything wrong. Okay, two teenage brothers sharing a bed is weird, not to mention the way Jasper had pressed up against me. And especially the way I ... enjoyed ... it. But she doesn't know any of that.

"What do you mean?"

"You know damn well what I mean. You, coming out of your brother's room, half-naked, looking like you just rolled out of bed."

" don't know what you mean."

She slaps my face. Again. And again. Her ring digs into my cheek. I step back from her. "No, Ma, it's not –"

"Don't. Lie. To. Me."

She raises her hand again and I cower away, closing my eyes, but the blow never comes. My back hits the wall and I peek through my lashes.

Jasper stands between us, holding Maria's arm. "You will not hit him again."

I'm five years old again. My father stands over me while I attempt to shield my face, my neck, anything. And then Jasper is there. All of seven years old, doing what he can to defend me. He takes a worse beating than I would have, but my father storms out after that and I'm spared.

That scene played out so many times until my father finally left. Our mother had never really hit us before. But she never did anything to stop my father, either, so it was kinda the same thing.

Nearly ten years later, Jasper hasn't changed. He's still my protector.

He towers over our mother now. He's got to outweigh her by fifty pounds.

She spits out something in Spanish too quickly for me to understand and then slams the door on her way out.

Jasper turns to me. "I'm sorry, Peter." He strokes my cheek where I'm cut.

I want to ask him what he has to be sorry about, but I'm trapped. Trapped by his blue eyes that are locked on mine. On his face, I see concern, sadness, guilt. A complete 180 from the Jasper who was just teasing me about my morning wood.

His fingers trail along my cheek one more time, and then he turns away and closes himself in his bedroom.

I don't see him again until dinner.

Maria returns late in the afternoon and acts as if nothing happened. We sit down at the dinner table like we're some kind of normal, happy family. Jasper only looks at me when he has to. My attempts to engage him in conversation result in one-word responses aimed at his plate. I give up eventually and pick at my food in silence.

I spend the rest of the night curled up on my bed, alternating between crying and feeling like I'm going to hurl. Even after all the beatings I endured as a child, nothing has ever hurt as much as Jasper ignoring me.


I'm not sure if I actually slept or not. The ache in my bones and the sting in my eyes makes me think I didn't. I stagger into the bathroom. I force my eyes open enough to see myself in the mirror. My face is blotched with red, both from Maria's slaps and from crying all night. Strands of hair are plastered to my face with dried tears. The cut on my cheek is scabbed and only hurts when I open my mouth too wide.

I splash cold water on my face. The shock to my skin feels good. Even after blotting my face dry with a soft towel, I still look as crappy as I feel.

I lean against the doorway to the bathroom and stare at Jasper's closed door. I can't take another day of him not talking to me. Steeling myself with deep breaths, I march to his door. Three more deep breaths and then I knock.

There's no answer and I wonder if he's still asleep. Finally I hear, "Who is it?"

Like he has to ask. Like Maria would have the decency to knock first if she ever felt the need to go into one of our rooms.

"Jazz, can I come in? Please?"


He's lying on his bed staring at the ceiling when I walk in. He doesn't even look at me. "What do you want?" His voice is so cold, so full of anger.

What did I do to make him so angry at me? I want to slink out of the room.

No. Don't be a coward.

I swallow and take a step closer to the bed. "Whatever I did, I'm sorry."

He huffs. "Whatever you did?"

"I can't stand you being mad at me. Please, Jazz." My voice cracks, and tears threaten to start falling again.

"I'm not mad at you."

"That's bullshit! You won't even look at me. You're barely even talking to me."

He sits up to look at me finally, and I see the anger fade from his face. "Oh God, Peter, you look awful. Did you sleep at all last night?"

"Um, no? I don't think so?"

His face falls further, and suddenly he's the one on the verge of tears. "Because of me?"

I can't answer. I don't have to.

Jasper buries his face in his hands.

I kneel on the bed in front of him and put my hands on his wrists. I pull gently on his hands.

"Don't!" He jerks away from me as if I burned him. He scoots as far back on the bed as he can. "You should just stay away from me."

"Why? What'd I do?"

"You didn't do anything. It's me. I'm … wrong. Bad. And I can't take you down with me."

"I don't believe that. There's no way, just no way you could be bad." I crawl up the bed until I'm right in front of him. "You're, like, perfect."

I'm close enough now to him that I can see the gray edges around his blue eyes. The stubble on his chin. The way his lips are quivering with each breath.

"Peter, please." His voice cracks.

I don't even care that he has morning breath. All of my focus now is on his lips. How soft they look. And how badly I want to touch them. Taste them.



Take you down.

Jasper's words replay in my mind, and I can't make sense of them. I'm the one who's bad. I'm the one who wants what he shouldn't have.

I'm the one inching forward until my lips touch his.

He sucks in his breath, but he doesn't pull away.

I did it. I kissed Jasper.

A thrill goes through me, right from the top of my head to the tips of my toes. But I need more. I capture his plump lower lip between my lips and really taste him. It's like snuggling into his sheets only better. A thousand times better.

He shifts. Is my moment in heaven over? Will I open my eyes and see the disgust and hatred in his? How could I have been so stupid?

But he doesn't back away. He moves closer. He puts a hand on either side of my face and presses his lips to mine. Harder. Wanting.

My heart is pounding in my chest. At what point will I wake up and realize this has all been a dream?

Jasper's nose skims mine, and he rests his cheek against mine. "We can't do this."

I grab fistfuls of his shirt. Please don't leave. "I can't help how I feel."

"It's wrong."

"I don't care."

He pulls back to look at me, but he keeps one hand on my face. It's so warm; I want him to touch me always. "You don't care now, in this moment. But later, when you've thought things through –"

"No. It won't change," I insist. Then my mouth goes dry and that I'm-gonna-hurl feeling comes back. "Is that all it was for you? Caught up in a moment?"

I start to back away, off the bed, towards the door. Stupid, stupid, stupid. Not only did I just get my heart broken, I told Jasper how I felt. How can I look him in the eye now?

Jasper flies towards me before I can open the door. He takes my hands in his. "No, no, no. I've always felt something special between us, for as long as I can remember. 'Course, it's only recently turned into something more, uh, physical."

My cheeks heat as he looks down my body and back up again.

"I …" I have to clear my throat to speak clearly again. My heart is pounding. "I don't understand. Yesterday you were so angry at me."

"I just told you I wasn't mad at you, didn't I? First, it was that bitch." His teeth clench. "I could have killed her for hitting you. But that wasn't the worst. The worst was knowing whatever she thought we were doing in there, I actually wanted to do. Better for you if I don't tempt myself too far."

I think about the way he'd curled himself around me. Now I know it'd actually meant something, and he didn't even realize he'd done it. I decide to keep that little secret to myself. Like a little piece of Jasper I get to hold on to and no one else does.

He sighs. "And now see what's happened? I've gone and kissed you. Started something we can't finish."

"Hey, I kissed you. And, whaddya mean 'can't finish?'"

"We can't do this, Peter."

He's right. I know he is. I'd been so caught up in the excitement that I forgot the problem in the first place.



My mouth dries and I have to focus on my breathing to keep it steady. I walk out of his room, back into mine, and flop down on my bed. I stare at the ceiling and try to make sense of the patterns in the stucco as I try to make sense of my life.

I kissed Jasper and it was wonderful, but now we have to stop. Now that I've had a taste, I can't have any more.

What's the point anyway? Jasper even said he's felt there was something special between us. Why would we both feel that way if we weren't supposed to be together? What kind of God does that?

Why did Jasper and I get such a bum deal on life? Neither of our dads were anything to brag about; Jasper's didn't even stick around long enough to see his own son born. Our mother's an alcoholic and turned a blind eye to the abuse we suffered from my father. These days she's sometimes home and sometimes not, and to be honest, Jasper and I prefer when she's not. And now we have to ignore our feelings for each other.

Now I finally have a kinda answer to the strange feelings: I have a crush on Jasper. So obvious that it amazes me I didn't see it earlier. Of course, why would I? Who gets a crush on his own brother? Freaks like me.

And Jasper.

But Jasper's not a freak. Or is he? Am I even able to determine freakishness when I'm such a freak to begin with?

No, Jasper's no freak. He's everything I want to be. Strong. Confident. Handsome. Logical.

I wonder what he's doing right now. How he's feeling. Does he feel like I do? A huge weight in the bottom of his stomach? Afraid to puke if he opens his mouth? Clenching the bed sheets in his hands so tightly that his knuckles hurt?


Jasper'll get up and move on. Do what needs to be done. Not show any weakness.

That's what I have to do, too.


Jasper doesn't mention the kiss, or anything else, the rest of the week. I follow his lead, though every time I look at him I think about kissing him again. I want to. So much.

He goes out of his way to avoid touching me, even though we've always been very close and touchy-feely for brothers. Instead of sitting on the couch next to me, he chooses the recliner on the other side of the room. With every accidentally-on-purpose touch, he sighs or swallows or sucks in his breath, but he never smiles. If I stand too close to him, he steps back.

At least he isn't totally ignoring me. He's as friendly as he always is; he just keeps a three-foot-wide invisible wall between us.

I miss the casual touches. The arm around the shoulders. The playful shoves. The thank-you hugs. But even so, if I'd known I was going to lose them if I kissed him, I'd still have kissed him.

It was that good.

By Friday, I'm fed up with being strong. Maria tells us that she'll be gone for the night again. A new job, she says, every Friday night. Jasper raises his eyebrows behind her back, but he doesn't say a word.

After she's gone, he grabs the remote and sits in his new favorite chair. "Comedy this week," he says, winking at me.

"Sounds good to me. You know, there's plenty of room on the couch." I pat the cushion next to me.

"I'm good." I know him well enough to hear the slight edge in his voice.

"You'd be able to see so much better from here."

"I can see fine here."

"This is ridiculous, Jasper."

"Don't know what you're talking about."

I'm insulted that he thought I'd actually buy that. "You do too, dammit. You sat next to me last Friday. And every day before that. You didn't use to be afraid of every little touch."

Finally he stops scrolling through the channel guide and looks at me. "Yeah, well, it means something different now, doesn't it?"

"No, it doesn't. It meant the same thing then, and you know it. What are we gonna do? Tiptoe around each other for the rest of our lives?"

He sighs. "I don't know. I honestly don't know what to do."

"We'll figure it out. Together. And we start by you sitting right here." I pat the couch again.

A smile slowly grows on his face. It's more like a smirk.


He does sit down next to me, though he's careful to leave a few inches of space between us. It's a first step. I feel more relaxed than I have all week, and yet at the same time, I yearn to touch him. I'm beginning to understand why he's been sitting away from me. The pull to lean into him is maddening. I know if I give in to it, I won't be able to stop myself from kissing him again.

Sometime in the middle of the movie, I feel something warm pulling at my fingers. Surprised, I look down to see Jasper gently unclenching my hand. "Relax a little," he whispers.

I do relax. Jasper doesn't remove his hand. Instead, he threads his fingers through mine. Holding hands is something we've never done before. It feels even more intimate than kissing him.

I realize that at some unknown point we've also scooted closer to each other. My leg rests against his. Warm. Solid. Comfortable.

Does he feel the way I feel? I glance up at his face. I didn't expect him to be watching me. His eyes catch mine, and I'm struck by how beautiful he looks. And how close he is. His lips are right there.

Fluttering has turned into throbbing.

I kiss him.

He touches my cheek. I wait for him to pull away and lecture me on how this is exactly why we shouldn't be near each other. But he doesn't. He turns his body slightly so he's more comfortable. I do the same.

He kisses me harder, pressing his tongue against my lips. I open my mouth, and then I feel his tongue against mine. Jasper's really kissing me. And it's amazing. His hand slides to the back of my neck, and he holds me to him.

As if I would leave.

He leans against me, gently urging me to lay back with my head on the armrest. Our lips separate for only moments as we situate ourselves. He hovers over me and kisses me deeply.

Suddenly there's a weight rubbing against my dick. I gasp and instantly the weight is removed.

"Too much?" Jasper breathes against my lips.

"No," I pant. "Don't stop."

The weight returns, pressing harder and backing off. Pressing. Releasing. I realize Jasper's rubbing his hips against me. Oh God.

Jasper's dick is touching mine.

Okay, there are clothes between us, but still. Jasper's rubbing his dick against me. I can't imagine even heaven being better than this.

I wrap my arms around his waist and attempt to match his rhythm with my hips. It's awkward at first, but I figure it out.

He starts kissing my neck. Kissing, licking, sucking, I don't even know. I can't hear anything beyond my moans and gasps and "Oh, Gods." My hands are rubbing up and down his back.

The pressure, the rhythm, it all feels so amazing and perfect. Jasper licks a spot on my neck that sends a jolt down my spine.

"Jazz, I'm gonna –"

Too late.

My body takes over as I jizz, and I grind harder against Jasper. It's so much more intense than touching myself. I cling to him as I finally come down from the high, my body shaking.

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean…so quick." My boxers are wet and sticky now. Gross. Can I sink into the couch now?

"S'okay." Jasper kisses my lips once more before pushing himself up into a kneeling position between my legs.

My eyes widen as he opens his jeans. He reaches his hand inside his boxers and starts stroking his dick.

Holy shit.

I can't actually see his dick, but watching him jack off is the hottest thing ever. He throws his head back and cries out as he jizzes into his hand. I can see spots darken on his boxers where it squirted past his hand.

He leans over and grabs some tissues from the end table to clean off. I find the remote and turn off the long-forgotten movie. I can't even remember the name at this point. There's one thing and one thing only on my mind. "Let's go to bed."

He nods, still breathing heavily.

My legs wobble when I stand and I have to catch my balance on his arm.

He chuckles. I stick my tongue out at him.

I follow him into his bedroom.

"No, Peter. If Maria –"

"So set your alarm for early and I'll go to my room before she gets home. Promise."

Jasper considers.

"Please? I want to be close to you."

He smiles and kisses me. "How could I say 'no'?"

I wash off quickly in the bathroom and then put on clean boxers. Jasper's left a space for me in his bed. I crawl in. He wraps his arm around my waist and presses his lips against the back of my neck.

It's the same position I woke up in last Saturday morning. I smile because this time, Jasper's not doing it in his sleep.