A/N: Have I told you all lately that I love you?
Cuz I do.
I should have known something was up when Jasper asked me to show him how to work out.
All the last year, I'd tried to get him to the gym with me and Jake. He'd told me more than once he was secure with his gamer's physique.
Now, he was the picture of the attentive student, listening as I explained the best ways to go about building muscles. A lot more goes into toning than people usually realize. I expected him to get overwhelmed, or keep it up for a week and then bail. He didn't. He kept at it. He got good at it.
Jasper had always been cut lean, so with as hard as he was working on it, it didn't take him too long to start getting some nice definition. He couldn't keep up with Jake and I when he went to the gym with us, but he wasn't doing badly for being a month and a half in.
It was the first weekend in October when I caught him standing shirtless in front of the mirror.
"What in the ever loving hell are you doing?" I asked, raising an eyebrow as I stepped through the doorway.
He jumped. How he didn't hear me, I had no idea. Subtle I'm not.
He shrugged, looking back at the mirror. "Just wish I had started all this muscle building earlier, I guess." His eyes flicked over to me in the mirror - more specifically, to my arms. "I wish I looked more like you."
That made me snort. "I'm too lumpy. It wouldn't be a good look for you. Not a lot of people could pull all this," I gestured at my body, "off as well as I can."
He rolled his eyes.
"Besides, I think you don't give yourself enough credit." Stepping up behind him, I splayed my hand over one of his shoulder blades. His skin was firm, taut, below my palm. "You can't see this as easily, but your back has pretty good tone to it now."
I heard him swallow hard, and looked up, catching his eyes in the mirror. He looked startled, his eyes kind of looked... I don't know, darker, somehow? "It's a good tone?" he echoed.
"Yeah." For some weird reason I couldn't figure, my throat was all tight, and my heart had started to beat fast. I should have dropped my hand, but I didn't. Instead, I ran my fingers up to his shoulder, cupping around. "See?" My voice was all gravely, and that was strange, too. I didn't know what to make of it. "There's a lot more definition here, along your deltoid."
Skimming my fingers down his arm - which was also showing muscle where there had been none before - I grabbed his hand, bringing it up and guiding his fingers along the new ridge. "You feel that? There was only doughy, pasty skin here before."
Again he swallowed, and I could feel his chest rising and falling beneath our hands. "How would you know?" he challenged, and his voice sounded strange, too - deeper than it usually was.
For a few seconds, it was silent, and I couldn't think at all. I'd lost track of what we were talking about, what I was doing with my hand on him like this, and him looking at me like that in the mirror. I stepped away from him, feeling dizzy and out of sorts.
"I, uh..." I stumbled, feeling as dumb as people typically assumed I was. "Hey! Why is it so important for you to be more muscley now? It takes time, and you're doing a lot better than most people."
"Um, I know," he said. He looked all flushed. "I uh... Well, I guess I really should have asked you before this, but, um..." He shook his head hard. "Would you care at all if I had a visitor?"
"A visitor?" I laughed. "Makes it sound like you're inviting an alien over."
"No, not an alien. A guy. From Georgia."
It took me a few second to process what this meant. "You mean you want him to stay with us? Like on the couch or something?"
"The couch..." Jasper hedged. "Or my bed."
My eyebrows nearly leapt right off my face. I just wasn't expecting that. "I... You... He..."
Brilliant oratory skills were definitely at work.
"Look, if it bothers you-" Jasper started, but I cut him off.
"It doesn't bother me." My voice was all high pitched, like someone was squeezing my testicles. Honestly, I didn't know what the hell was going on with me - why I was caught off guard. Obviously, I'd known since last semester that Jasper liked dudes. It was only a matter of time until I saw him kiss one. Hell, I'd even urged him to look around. The guy was lonely.
So what the hell was wrong with me? Yeah, I'd never seen anything like that, but how disgusted could I possibly be if I'd had not one, but two guys kiss me? I didn't think it was that?
So what had me all... stuck on stupid?
I rubbed the back of my head, feeling self-conscious. "So where did this guy come from? He lives in Georgia? How did you meet him? Did he used to live in Texas?"
"Can we maybe have this conversation outside the bathroom? And can I put a shirt on?"
"Well, I guess," I said, pretending to sigh. "If you must."
He looked at me with wide eyes for a beat before he started laughing. "Get out of my way, fucker," he said, pushing me aside.
I headed out to the living room, glad I had a second to get my head on straight. Why I felt, I don't know, defensive, I guess, I didn't have a clue. I just had a bad feeling.
Which got a lot worse when he told me how he knew Peter. "Are you fucking kidding me?"
Jasper looked confused. "What? You know I had friends online."
"Yeah, but... I mean, that's just crazy, Jazz. He could be a creepy old man for all you know." I was pissed off at the idea of someone trying to take advantage of my friend. It happened all the time. People used the Internet for all sorts of horrible stuff.
"I've seen him-" Jasper started to say, but I interrupted him.
"So he showed you a picture of some young guy. Come on! It could have been anyone."
He glared at me. "I've seen him on a web camera first of all. What is your problem? Do you find it that unbelievable that someone might find me attractive?"
"Oh, Jesus Christ. Don't be a girl," I grumbled. "It's not that. In fact, I don't understand why you don't pick up a guy around here. You don't need to import one. I wouldn't trust anyone who comes so far for a little nookie. That's just..." I waved my hands. How could he not see how crazy it was. "I mean, you haven't ever seen the guy in person!"
"How do you know it's just about the nookie?" he returned, saying the last word sarcastically. Usually he giggled - cuz nookie is a funny word if you aren't Fred Durst. Or even if you are Fred Durst. I was a little bit shocked to see that he was pissed. I didn't think I'd ever seen Jasper pissed off. "Maybe he means more to me than that."
I looked at him, shocked all over again. "You uh... You didn't say he was your boyfriend."
"Does it make a difference?"
"Look, whatever," I mumbled, not sure how to answer that. "Do whatever you want. I don't care. But if this guy ends up wearing your skin as a jacket, don't come crying to me about it."
Every day for the four days between our discussion - which neither of us brought up again - and when this Peter guy was supposed to show up, I printed out articles about people who'd met guys online and been raped, or murdered, or cheated out of a lot of money. I didn't say anything directly to Jasper; I just put them on the fridge. And Jasper didn't mention the articles at all but when I came home every day, he'd posted articles of his own on the fridge, these all about how many married couples had met online and found true love.
What a bunch of bullshit.
The day that Peter was supposed to show up, I was in a really bad mood. After I got off the phone with my mother, I was in a worse mood.
"Fucking world has gone insane, I swear to God," I grumbled, throwing my cell down on the box crate that was masquerading as a coffee table in Rosalie's dorm. I threw my head back, staring at the ceiling.
Rose, who had been in her room, giving me some space to talk to Mom, came out. She sat on my lap, facing me, her knees on either side of my legs. I put my hands on her waist. "What's the world done to you now, Emmett?" she asked, her voice half-teasing.
Rosie was good people. She was smart and wicked funny. I liked that she was a tough girl. Those sensitive girls who pout and cry over every little thing? Yeah, no part of me could jive with that.
But that also meant that she would call me on my bullshit, and I was pretty damn sure that my irritation level was much higher than necessary for what was going on. "It's nothing," I tried to dismiss, leaning forward to kiss her instead.
She put her hand over my mouth and gave me a look. She hated it when I tried to distract her with the physical stuff. Well, who could blame me? I mean, the girl was hot and she had the moves like... someone much better than Jagger.
I licked her hand, and she scowled at me, punching my shoulder.
"It's really nothing," I said again, sighing. "Edward is talking to some girl online. Mom thinks it's so cute." I rolled my eyes. "What the hell is wrong with people you can actually touch?" I grumbled, running my hands up and down her back.
"Well, look at it this way. With online people, you know all sex is safe sex, so there's that," Rose said with a shrug.
When I didn't say anything, she shifted on my lap, starting to do this little grinding thing that she knew got me riled up pretty quickly.
Now who was trying to distract whom?
"You've been so pissy about everything lately," she complained. "It's not like you to let things bother you."
"I know," I said quietly. Then I grinned at her. "Maybe I've been hanging out with you too much. I'm getting sympathetic PMS or something."
She punched me in the shoulder again - hard enough that I actually winced. "You're such a prick," she muttered.
"You like my prick."
Her smile got sly, and she did that lovely little grinding thing again. I had to stifle a moan.
We both got distracted then, kissing and rubbing and before I knew it, she was on her knees in front of me, my cock in her mouth and my fingers tangled in her gold-blond hair.
Usually, during times like these, I didn't have a damn thought going through my head. It was all about the pleasure building. Today, the damndest, most random thought flitted through my mind.
The way I was sitting, I couldn't see Rosalie's face. All I saw was a golden haired head bobbing.
It was weird, but my imagination put Jasper in her place - his long, gold-blond hair falling in his eyes as his mouth worked over my cock.
I was nervous as a steer on ball bearings, and about as jumpy as a Mexican jumping bean. Hand to God, I was going straight out of my skin, and I couldn't seem to calm the hell down.
Peter put his hand over mine, and I jumped a mile. He chuckled lightly, and I looked down at my feet knowing I was blushing.
"Sugar, you're so jittery, you're making me restless," he said. All things considered, I was glad he sounded amused rather than annoyed. "I'm regretting going to that coffee place, but your Alice is beyond adorable."
At that, I smiled. "Alice is great."
"She's a good friend for you," Peter said approvingly. "When we find the pulse of the gay community here, she's going to be a very popular."
"Why is that?"
"You know how all straight women seem to want a gay best friend? Well, it goes both ways, honey. She's hilarious."
You know, I liked him that much more because he loved Alice. My Alice deserved all the love in the world.
"But back to you. There's something I want to try," he said, pursing his lips and looking at me with an appraising eye. I felt a shiver go down my spine, and I started shaking all over again.
As I watched, he sat all the way back on the couch spreading his legs wide. He patted the space between them. It took me a second to understand what he wanted.
I sat down between his legs, my throat too tight to speak. My lips felt too dry, and I kept licking them.
I'd been slightly annoyed when Emmett wasn't around when we got home; he was being an asshole and avoiding us. Now, I couldn't help but be glad he wasn't around. I had no idea what was about to happen, but I was happy I didn't have to worry about being self-conscious.
Peter's touch was gentle. He started at the top of my head, brushing my longish hair away from my face. His fingertips whispered along my neck, and I felt his breath hot against my ear when he finally spoke. "You're practically vibrating, you're shaking so badly."
"S-sorry," I said on a breath. I really didn't want to be so g'damn nervous. I trusted Peter, I did. I wanted this - whatever this was. I had no idea what he was going to do, but I was curious and excited, and Jesus God it felt good to have his hands on me, to have my back up against his chest.
"Don't be sorry. I just need you to understand something," he murmured, pressing sweet kisses along my cheek. "You don't owe me anything, do you get that? If there's something we start to do that you don't like, you tell me so. If you say stop, it stops - doesn't matter what we're doing." He cupped my cheek with his hand, stroking my skin tenderly. "If you want me across the room, that's where I'm going to be."
"That's not what I want." My voice was still breathy, but at least it didn't shake.
"Good. I wanted to be clear on that." With his hand on my cheek, he turned my face so I was looking into his green eyes. Carefully, he took my glasses off, setting them on the end table before he returned his hand to my cheek, tilting my chin up.
That first kiss was so sweet. He eased into it, giving me time to understand exactly what he was doing. He had one hand pressed against my cheek, the other resting over my heart. I knew he must have been able to feel the way my heart pounded, betraying my nerves even though the shaking had subsided a little.
His lips brushed mine so lightly that at first it was more like we were swapping warm air. I liked that he tasted like coffee and chocolate from the drink we'd had earlier. I liked it enough that I quickly got distracted from my jumpiness. I closed my eyes and breathed him in, seeking more from his kiss.
He gave me more readily, pressing harder against my mouth. His lips urged mine apart.
I wasn't really thinking at all at that point. It was all feeling. I loved the way his mouth felt against mine, urgent but tender, the whispers of his light stubble scratching pleasantly around my mouth, his hand on my cheek and my chest, and my hands in his soft hair.
Holy hell, when had I done that?
I was reaching back, both my hands in his hair, pulling him closer to me. It was shameless - entirely shameless.
Maybe I would have started second guessing myself, but Peter moaned into my mouth just then. The noise vibrated against my lips, and it seemed to travel straight down the center of my body, stirring things up down below.
I jerked my head away with a ragged gasp, suddenly aware that it had been a while since I took my last breath. I squeezed my eyes shut tight, trying to calm the hell down for totally different reasons.
"You're so fucking sexy, do you know that?" Peter muttered, his lips going to my throat. He was breathing just as hard as I was, but he dragged his teeth along my neck anyway.
I whimpered a little, my throat once again too tight for words.
He pulled me back hard against him, so that we were flush. Up against him like that, I could feel that he was having the same problem I was, except for him it didn't seem to be a problem. "What should I have told you when you said you think about me when you touch yourself? I think about you all the time, Jasper. God, I get so hard so quick just thinking of your sexy voice. And having you here, where I can feel you, and the way you touch me?" He bit down where my neck met my shoulders, not hard enough to bruise but hard enough that I gasped.
"Peter," I said, my voice raw like I'd been screaming all night.
He sucked at my skin and his hand dropped from my chest, trailing down my stomach. He raised his head, taking my lips again, and for minutes our only conversation was the sound of wet kisses - mouths and tongues working together.
His hand kept drifting lower until he cupped me. I whimpered again, my body stiffening because I wanted to buck up against his hand, but that felt too needy.
"Is this for me?" he asked, rubbing me through my jeans. I groaned. "Are you hard for me?"
"Oh, God. Yes. This is all you, baby. You do this for me."
He was the one who whimpered then. "Can I touch you? Can I feel you?" he asked, breathless against my ear.
I could only nod.
Both his hands went to my fly then, unbuttoning me. His fingers were warm as they slipped into my boxers, skimming along my length.
It was fantastic. I didn't really understand it. He was doing the same things I did to myself. In fact, he seemed to know innately what I liked. He knew just how to work me. Honestly, given that it was the first time someone other than myself was stroking me, murmuring sweet, hot things in my ear, there was never any chance of me lasting long at all.
"Ah, fuck. I'm gonna... I'm..." I tried to tell him, not wanting to make a mess all over him. He didn't let go. In fact, he just worked me harder, his grip more firm.
I came right in his hand.
He held me as I trembled, coming down off a fantastic high. He kissed my cheek, his chest rising and falling steadily beneath my back even as I wheezed.
"I'm sorry," I panted. "I didn't mean to-"
"Hush, honey. This is exactly what I wanted." He chuckled. "Although, if you can stand, we can maybe get cleaned up, huh?"
I felt sheepish as I stood, zipping up again. We went to the bathroom, and I took his hand, cleaning me off of him, looking in his eyes kind of shy like. He was smiling at me.
And then I saw that he was straining through his jeans.
That couldn't be pleasant.
I knew what I wanted to do. My heart was pounding away furiously again, because I didn't know how to be smooth. I didn't know how not to look stupid.
I took a shaky breath, tugging his hand, leading him silently to the bedroom. When we were standing in front of the bed, I took his face in my hands and kissed him softly. His hands were at my waist. He wasn't pushing me or grinding me or anything like that.
Peter was a right sweetheart.
Though I knew my hands were shaking, I let them drift down. I felt foolish, but I remembered how much I liked it when his hand was cupped full over me, so I bucked up, splaying my palm over the bulge in his pants.
Sure enough, I was rewarded by a long, low moan as I worked my hand in circles over him. Bolstered by that - God that sound was so hot - I unbuckled his pants, shoving them down.
"Oh, fuck. Jasper. You don't... I... Ungh."
I almost laughed at that. Almost. And taking him in my hands, I was suddenly eager to do all manner of things to this man. Nearly six months of reorienting my dirty thoughts to revolve around men and all things male had left me with plenty of curiosity.
Right then, I wanted to know what he tasted like.
I wanted to know how it felt to have him, full, and hard, and hot in my mouth.
I didn't know what I was doing, but I figured he already knew that, and I knew from what Emmett had said last year that the key to a not giving a bad blow job was in not being repetitive. Vary it up a little. Then it couldn't possibly be horrible, right?
"Holy shit! Jasper!" Peter groaned, his hand going to my hair when I knelt at his feet, diving in feet - or mouth, I guess - first.
I took my time, exploring. I definitely found out about my gag reflex, but Peter soothed me quickly when that happened, running his hand through my hair, assuring me I was amazing.
And we were so caught up in what we were doing, wouldn't you know it? We didn't even hear the door open.
A/N: Weeeee I got GinnyW to read slash fic for me! Thanks for the beta job, sweets. Thanks also to barburella. Much heart.
So, my slashy friends. Are you a fan of some good angst? Head on over to BMango's profile and check out Find Strength In Pain - her new Jasper/Edward fic. Like I said, it's angsty, but it's oh, so worth it.