(A/N: Rated M for mature content and language.

I don't own any of the characters—they belong to their respective creators. I'm just making them do perverted things since they didn't. This is a m/m, cross-over story. Lots of gay in here, but not a 'everybody is gay!' world (as tempting as that was). I will pretty much ignore quite a few realities set in either book/movie series to make things work like I want. So. Fair warning.

The main pairings: Harry Potter/Jacob Black and Draco Malfoy/OMC.

Overall warnings: MalexMale slash. Mature content/language (like, a lot). Frequent smut. Fluff. Mpreg. Creatures (vampires and werewolves). And OOCness (probably).

Thank you and Enjoy!)

Harry Potter stares at the missive in his hand with a frown on his face. He absently notices the owl that delivered it is still perched on the chair next to him, awaiting a response. He glares at the bird for a moment before his attention is drawn to the parchment again. Denied. He can't believe it. He'd finally finished his N.E.W.T.s, applied for a teaching job and he holds the proof that the Ministry is trying to dictate his life. Again.

He gives the owl a glance before he makes his way over to his desk and starts looking for something to write with. He finally locates his Muggle pen and a piece of paper and with a grin, sends a reply. He keeps it simple and attaches it to the owl and sends him on his way.

Later, he's angrily pacing the parlor of Grimmauld Place. "I just don't get it!" he seethes, throwing his hands up as he paces along the threadbare carpeting in front of the sofa.

Draco Malfoy is casually sitting on the small sofa, one ankle propped on his opposite knee as he watches Harry, his silvery grey eyes tracking Harry's agitated movements with a small smirk on his face.

Harry rounds on the blonde, his hands curling into fists. "How the fuck can they get away with this?" Harry glares at a spot over the blonde's head as he shakes his own.

A year ago, Draco probably would have flinched at the actions and fierce look on the other wizard's face but he knows better now. Harry is pissed and Draco is silently glad he's no longer the focus of such emotions and actions anymore.

Draco clears his throat and waits until Harry's gaze settles on him before he speaks. "It is unfair. I completely agree. However," he holds up a hand when Harry opens his mouth to disagree, "I think this will work out for the better. For you. I mean, without this kind of push, you'd be stuck here instead of trying something new," he argues reasonably.

Harry glares for a moment, "I was trying to do something new. Everyone expects—and wants—me to be an Auror." Harry sneers and Draco has to hide a smirk at the expression. "I was trying to get into teaching. But no!" he slams a fist into his open palm for emphasis, not noticing Draco wince slightly. "Somehow that bastard Kingsley intercepts the damn bird and ruins my chances." Harry paces some more, muttering angrily.

Draco tsks and shakes his head, "I know, I saw the letter." He gets up and makes his way across the room to get the parchment off the small desk. He waves it in Harry's direction for a moment before reading it again. "You know," he muses aloud, "something like this would be enough to drive Harry Potter to leave." He smirks at Harry's confused face. "I'm serious. You've said yourself you wanted to travel. Now you can. You don't want to be an Auror, which this letter practically demands, and you know that bastard will try his damnedest to block any other career path. So. Go where he can't. I was thinking America," he says thoughtfully, tapping his chin with two fingers as if lost in thought. "We can pick some place at random, since neither of us have a clue where we'd like to go."

He doesn't say the 'and nothing to keep us here' thought aloud, as true as it may be. Harry had a few friends still, and Teddy... but with floo travel, he wouldn't be missing out on anything.

Harry sputters for a moment. "We?"

Sure, they're friends now. Best friends actually, since Ron couldn't handle Harry getting on with his life and becoming friends with Draco. (Or maybe it was Harry refusing to get back together with Ginny that did it; he doesn't know and never cared to ask for specific reasons.) After the war, he just couldn't see the point in holding grudges and cautiously approached Draco to return his wand. He was pleasantly surprised when Draco took it politely and thanked him.

They got thrown into an 'eighth year' common room once they went back to Hogwarts to get their N.E.W.T.s. They became cautious friends when they actually talked to each other and learned how to get along. It hadn't been hard, once the pair got a better understanding of each other. He was pleasantly surprised to find out how funny Draco could be, especially when he wasn't making fun of him and his friends. Hermione kept civil around the blonde but even she kept her distance from Draco—and consequently Harry. Harry mourned the loss of his old friends but he refused to live in the past and moved forward with Draco alone since he was sick of doing everything for everyone else.

Draco smiles and Harry can't help but smile back. "Yes. We. I'm not settling down yet, Potter. I sure as Merlin am not about to let you wander the world alone. You'd probably wind up canoodling with Muggles." He smirks at Harry's affronted glare. "Now, you know I'm over the whole 'kill all Muggles' thing—which I didn't really believe in anyway," he says with a playful glare. "Would you rather go alone?"

The last is asked sincerely and Harry is amused to notice Draco now looks nervous, biting his bottom lip slightly as he waits for Harry to answer. Harry has been surprised to learn that Draco is terrible at hiding his emotions. Or Harry is getting better at reading them. His silvery grey eyes are always betraying him, and Harry is already shaking his head so Draco will stop looking so uncertain.

"No, I would really rather not go alone." Harry grins when Draco smirks in triumph and pumps a fist in the air. He doesn't have to ask why Draco wants to go. Shortly after they became friends Harry, red faced and fearing rejection, told Draco he wasn't exactly straight. The blonde had howled with laughter and eloquently said 'Duh, Potter' before saying he wasn't either.

He had been shocked to learn that Draco was going to happily defy his parents, and pure-blood tradition, by not marrying the witch he was betrothed to and father an heir. He was amazed (and a little impressed) until Draco informed him, with the biggest grin he had ever seen on his face, that he wasn't going to be disowned since he knew wizards can carry babies as well. He had gaped and demanded proof, fearing being made fun of. Draco was basically escaping the arranged marriage his mother was still trying to talk him into. It seemed more or less a power/money thing at this point though and her pleas weren't phrased as demands.

"However—" Harry holds up a finger, "I refuse to travel like some snooty pure-blood. We're not going to rough it," he quickly adds with a roll of his eyes when Draco stares at him horrified, "But I'd like to blend in a bit. Low key. Casual. Okay?"

Draco nods reluctantly and raises his chin. "Alright. Fine. I can be understated." At Harry's laugh, he flips him an obscene hand gesture and walks across the room to a bookshelf. "I know I saw maps in here..." he trails off as he looks through the shelves. "Aha!" he says triumphantly as he pulls a large rolled up piece of parchment from a small nook. Harry wanders over to look at it as Draco unrolls it. The map looks ancient and he raises an eyebrow in question. "I know, but it's magical, Harry." Draco rolls his eyes at Harry, still getting caught by surprise at Harry's lack of knowledge of the wizarding world and his near Muggle ways. "It updates itself as needed, so it's currant," he says absently, his gaze traveling quickly across the map. "Where shall we go?"

Harry looks closely at the map. It's amazingly detailed; there are little bumps for mountains and small puddles indicating bodies of water. "Maybe a coast? I kind of want to see a beach, but nowhere hot. I don't know though," he muses with a shrug. "Can we pick at random? I think that will be fun." Draco looks up with a grin and nods, taking out his wand.

Draco mutters something under his breath and before Harry can blink, his finger jerks forward, makes a few circles over the map and dips down sharply to point to a random spot on the map. The western cost of America. Both eyebrows raise up with interest as he rolls his finger slightly to the side to see if he can see a town name. "Washington. But I don't see a city or town name."

Draco hums and nods distractedly, "That means it's small. Which is a good start, I think." He mutters again and the map shifts and zooms in so they get a closer look at the map.

Harry can now clearly make out several town names and quickly looks under his finger and murmurs "Forks," he announces, forehead wrinkling.

Draco grins and claps Harry on the shoulder. "Well, looks like we're heading to Forks. I know you'll want to owl Hermione, so get that out of the way and then get packed and let's go!" He quickly snaps the map out from under Harry's finger, rolls it back up and shoves it back on the shelf before he practically runs from the room.

Harry looks after Draco with a bemused smile. He never thought he'd see the day he'd see Draco Malfoy bound happily from a room like a 5-year-old. With a smile on his face, he sets out to get packed and write Hermione before Draco can nag and annoy him.


Jacob Black stares moodily out at the grey water.

He can easily smell the salty tang of the water and thankfully all he can hear is the gentle roar and tumbling of the waves. He's been getting restless and agitated a lot more these days and he isn't sure why. Sam likes to tease him and say he is having 'his time of the month', but he's pretty sure it's connected with his wolf... business. He doesn't know but he's not about to curse the wolf he carries with him. Even if it is fucking up his life.

Bella is... well... gone as far as he is concerned. He had last seen her at her big white wedding and refused to bother hanging around her since. He was sick of her confusing signals, getting irritated and downright annoyed when she tried to snuggle against him while they danced at her own damn wedding. The relief he felt when it didn't affect him was overshadowed by annoyance and he left without looking back.

The pack didn't have any more conflicts with vampires, so life is pretty much quiet and tame now. He should be happy about that, but he only feels bored and antsy. Sam still has them patrol, for reasons only he knew. Jake doesn't complain; he still enjoys the feeling of his body shifting into the wolf and spending a few hours just being. As long as he's phased alone, it's the most peaceful time he gets to stop thinking and just feel.

Jake frowns, his personal life isn't as boring any more. He was shocked, and a little upset with himself, when he was in town one day and found himself ogling a strange guy at the diner. Ogling. A guy.

It's these kinds of thoughts that brought him to the beach at La Push, sitting here in the middle of March, to brood and question in solitude. Not that the cold bothers him. If he didn't see the plume of steamy breath coming from him, he probably wouldn't know it was cold. He briefly glances down at his attire; shorts and a black wife beater. He briefly wonders how many people (OK, guys, he admits only to himself) would ogle him. He's probably good looking enough.


He makes a face at himself and tries to clear his thoughts. He is due to meet up to patrol in 10 minutes and he doesn't want any of those thoughts in his head, free to be picked up by the pack. He's so not ready to let the others know he's... different. They would freak out. Hell, he's still freaking out about it and he's had some time to think and brood.

He thoughts wander again as he glowers at the grey crashing waves. He folds his arms across his chest and doesn't care if he looks like a petulant, angsty teenager at the moment. He feels like one and he enjoys the solitude, continuing his private tantrum.

How is he supposed to imprint and have super wolf babies if he's gay? Can he even imprint on a guy? If not, why is he attracted to them? The thought gives him pause. Is he even going to imprint? On a woman? He had never been attracted to any woman before, not really even Bella. Would imprinting make him be attracted to a woman? It's an oddly unsettling thought.

Fuck. So confusing.

A soft cracking noise has Jake's head whipping around, looking for the sound. It almost sounded like a tree snapping or something. A frown slowly crawls onto his face, his eyes narrowing. Few things can snap a tree and he isn't hearing, or sensing, anything at all. After a tense moment, he hears voices coming from the small cluster of trees that faces the beach. He stands up taller and strains his hearing but he only barely make out two voices. Male voices. The voices are deep enough to be male, anyway. His frown deepens when he notices they're talking with accents. He's confused and a bit horrified when he feels his cock twitch in his shorts when one of the voices say something.

Indecision grips Jake fiercely and he fists his hands as he listens to the men talking. Did he leave or get closer? He wants to act but a large part of him doesn't feel threatened, even though he knows those men are strangers. He doesn't know if they're dangerous strangers, though. He unconsciously worries his lip with uncharacteristic uncertainty, gaze flicking around the wooded area in the hopes of seeing the strangers.

It doesn't take long before he can see two figures making their way out of the trees. One has light (almost white) blonde hair and the other is a mess of black. As they get closer, Jake notices the dark haired one is wearing glasses (squinting and turning his head away quickly when the sun glints off them) and both carry large packs on their back.

Jake can't help it, his gaze roams the dark haired man's body, much to his embarrassment. The stranger is on the short side (to anyone, not just him) and thin but even from this distance Jake can tell he is well built. Not scrawny; but slim and strong. Lithe. The word flashes through his mind but he doesn't even wonder how he knows it, rather absorbed in looking at the dark haired stranger. His embarrassment fades as he continues to look, finding what he's seeing to be quite appealing.

Both men are wearing dark, loose fit jeans with hoodies and Jake gets the strange impression they're playing dress-up in the clothes. Expensive looking but plain sneakers adorn both their feet and he purses his lips in thought. Who wears sneakers when they go hiking? New sneakers, if the stark whiteness is to be believed. He keeps completely still, lost in his thoughts. Strange, unsure thoughts.

He watches as both men turn slightly and look at the water, neither seeming that put-off by the dreary atmosphere. Jake unconsciously leans forward just a bit as the dark haired one smiles, and makes a happy whooping noise before he laughs and trots towards the water's edge. He scowls when he feels his stomach swoop and his hips twitch towards the man at the sound. What the fuck? He watches warily as the blonde walks towards the water, cautiously keeping behind the dark haired man as if providing (or maybe seeking) protection. Or maybe he's wary of being near the water. It wouldn't be the first time he's seen a grown man scared of water, unable to swim and keeping a safe distance.

Jake notices both men shiver and wrap their arms around their bodies in an effort to warm themselves and he is shocked when he feels an embarrassingly strong urge to run over and swoop the dark haired stranger into his arms, warming him with his own body heat. He shivers as well and he knows it's not from the cold. He can hear the men talking again, happily from the tone, but he can't make out many words. 'Merlin', 'beach', 'bloody cold' and 'Forks' are all he can catch, even with his sensitive hearing. The crashing waves keep sweeping the dark haired mans words away and Jake glares out at waves; how dare they take his voice from his ears?

He is still frozen to the spot, watching the two men—okay, mostly the dark haired one. He knows he's fast approaching the time he has to leave for his patrol and he's shocked to feel hesitant to leave now. He wants to stand here and stare for however long the man would be there. Sam will have his ass, and he doesn't want to have to explain his lateness. 'Sorry, I was perving on some guy at the beach' just really didn't sound like something he would want to say. Out loud. To anyone. Especially Sam.

He doesn't realize he's even walking towards the men until the dark haired man whirls around, a short stick in his hand, and pins him with the greenest eyes he's ever seen. The eyes are hard and full of painful promises. Jake is quick to drop his gaze immediately, looking somewhere over his shoulder, and his mouth opens a bit in a stupid gape as his hands go up instinctively in a surrendering gesture. It's humbling, that's for sure. He's never felt that urge to submit, even for Sam.

Jake dares a peek, embarrassed at his almost immediate submission. He sees the dark haired man blush, fighting the strangest urge to touch the heated skin with his fingertips, and tucking the stick into the back pocket of his jeans. He's relieved to see the other man's body has relaxed a bit and no longer looking like he wants to kill him with a glance. He wonders how true the thought is as he watches the smaller man shift uncomfortably. Awkward body language aside, he doesn't look like he could do any damage but Jake is quite sure it's a stupid assumption to make.

The blonde one walks over, chuckling and says something that Jake can't hear into the dark haired man's ear. His hands curl into fists and he can feel his nails biting into the soft pads of his hands. Why is he getting so angry (jealous) of the blonde being so close to the other man? With an effort, Jake lets his hands loosen and nearly backs away when the men turn to him at the same time and start walking towards him.

Uncharacteristic panic sets in as Jake realizes he's outnumbered. These men have a strange feeling surrounding them that he can't pinpoint and it's starting to make his wolf twitchy. Not defensive or angry, just twitchy; odd but not the time to wonder about it. Before he can think of running (or phasing into the wolf) the dark haired one is standing a few feet in front of him. He looks up and Jake is lost in green as he meets the enchanting eyes and actually looks.

He blinks stupidly a moment and feels a strange warmth shoot through his body (like a lightening strike, he dazedly thinks). His head, chest, palms and crotch tingle almost unpleasantly and the warmth becomes almost an unbearable heat. His lips pull into a large smile, and he beams a smile down at the dark haired man. 'Mine?' drifts through his thoughts before his eye lids flutter and he promptly passes out with a muttered "Wow".


Jake jerks awake and gasps aloud when he is looking into the same green eyes. They're warm, filled with humor and concern. He twitches, his hands flex, wanting to grab the dark haired man and he barely controls the urge. Grabbing strange men, however warm and tingly they might make him feel, seems to be a very bad idea. Not to mention rude.

He clears his throat quietly to cover his awkwardness and carefully looks around. He's on the ground and he's too embarrassed to ask how long he's been unconscious. He watches the blonde, squatting next to the dark haired man with his elbow casually perched on his shoulder, and Jake has to bite the inside his cheek (hard enough to bleed) to keep from yelling at him or slapping it off. What the actual fuck is that about?

"Uh. Hi, I'm Jacob Black," he mumbles after a moment, the long period of silent starring finally getting to him. He's so tempted to ask if he's been struck by a freak lightening storm he has to bite his cheek again. The dark haired man smiles and Jake is lost again. Oh man. He stares avidly into his face as if he is seeing God. He shakes his head slightly; this is better than that. His gaze focuses on the dark haired man's lips when he sees them moving and he's embarrassed to wonder how they'd feel against his. He shakes his head again, realizing he isn't paying attention, barely hearing the words coming out of those lips.

He makes himself focus on the words when he realizes they could be important. "You can call me Jake, though," he adds, feeling lame and immediately wondering if he's interrupted the other man.

"I'm sorry if we scared you. I'm Harry," he says holding out his hand towards Jake. He nearly falls forward when it's immediately captured in Jake's larger tanned one and held with a careful, tight hold.

Jake doesn't want to let go of the hand in his, it's so warm (which is weird, most people's hands feel cool to him) and perfect in his. He wants to just hold it, bring it close to his face and examine each fine detail. He can feel light calluses on the slender fingers and he wonders where they came from. What does Harry do with his hands? He slowly, regretfully, lets go when he notices Harry's eyebrow twitch up in confusion, or maybe amusement.

"This is Draco." Harry waves a hand at the blonde squatting next to him. Draco, unsurprisingly, only nods politely towards Jake. "Er, can I ask a strange question?"

Jake can't help but nod immediately. He can answer any question Harry has. "Yes. Of course you can," he blurts in an eager rush. He wants to cringe at his eager tone, sounding like a damn puppy. He barely suppresses a moan when Harry's lips twitch into a small smirk. Harry shares a glance with Draco and Jake feels like an outsider, he fights an irrational urge to shove the blonde onto his ass. Or pull his hair. He's got a feeling that would offend the man more. He's confused when the blonde gives a terse nod; he had gotten the feeling Harry was the leader of sorts.

"What are you?" Harry blurts out. Jake can't help but be amused when the blonde groans, slaps a hand to his forehead and mutters "Smooth, Potter". Harry turns back to Jake and really, all is forgiven when Harry smiles at him. It's embarrassed and Jake thinks it's completely adorable. He successfully fights the urge to coo and crush the man against his chest. "I'm sorry, that came out wrong. Look, you probably can't say, and I understand that, but we can feel something is..." Harry pauses, a hand twirls around distractedly, "different with you. You're not a Mug—" he breaks off when Draco's hand flies out and lands on his stomach with some force, knocking the breath from him. "Oomph! OK! Fine. You do it then!" he says and glares at Draco.

Jake wants to punch the blonde for touching Harry.

Draco smirks and his chin tilts up. Jake is strongly reminded of Rosalie and he suppresses a scowl. "What Harry is trying to say—and failing miserably, might I add—is; does this look familiar?" he leans to the side slightly and pulls a short stick from his back pocket. It looks a lot like the one Harry had pointed at him earlier so Jake nods. Draco's silvery eyes light up and Jake has to wonder why it doesn't make his stomach swoop and... other things react. The blonde is gorgeous and Jake has the feeling the man knows it.

"So you are a wizard then?" Draco asks, his voice betraying a hint of excitement. They hadn't expected to meet other wizards, but it's not a big deal. Their readings had been... inconclusive.

Jake frowns and peeks at Harry from the corner of his eyes. "Uh. No," he says slowly. He's not sure if it's rude to mention that wizards are only in comics and movies. He doesn't want to offend Harry (or the blonde) but he's also pretty sure he doesn't want to be around crazy people for long either. He never considers how odd it is that he turns into a massive wolf and that others find it just as unbelievable.

Harry makes a frustrated sound and Jake immediately turns to look at him, thrilled he can stare again. Harry's dark hair is a wild mess, moving with the wind a little. It looks soft and he feels his hands twitch (once again!) with the urge to bury his fingers in it. Maybe press his nose in there, inhaling deeply to get to Harry's scent under the beachy smell. Harry's face is young but old at the same time and Jake feels a strange sense of grief and the urge to protect flood him. He's barely restraining the urge to enfold Harry in his arms again, to comfort this time. Harry's eyes narrow at him, looking him over slowly. He feels heat spread through him and settle in all the wrong places.

Oh God, no.

Jake concentrates hard, trying to imagine the old lady at the deli wearing a leather bikini, willing his erection to stay away. Harry's cheeks are tinged the most amazing shade of pink when he focuses back on him and he wants to grab him and kiss him. The urge is strong enough he has to restrain his hands. He's starting to get very pissed off at his lack of control, these weird sudden urges, and it's not helping when Harry takes a step closer.

God, no. He groans quietly, thankfully it goes unheard by both men. Harry smells amazing...

"So, why do I get this... feeling from you?" Harry asks, his hand making an impatient twirling motion again. He's honestly confused. Nothing is making sense at the moment and he's feeling put-off. He looks the tall American over again, almost feeling like a pervert for eyeing him up. Jake is quite fit. It's odd he's wearing so little clothing on such a cool day, but Harry really isn't one to judge. Not when it leaves little to the imagination. He looks away, clearing his throat.

Jake doesn't know how to answer, so he only shrugs. Most people find him strange because of his size or the subtle feeling of power (if they subconsciously sense it—and most people can even if they don't know what it is). Only his pack and tribe members seem to be completely comfortable with him and the power of the wolf.

He notices Draco take his stick out again, twirling it in a strange manner while he mutters something. It's over and done before Jake can even react and he mentally curses himself for being so slow. If they were out to hurt him, he'd have been fucked. Twice. His body tingles for a moment and he glares at the blonde. What the hell did he just do? He can see a bluish misty cloud hovering around his body and he has to blink several times before it goes away. What the fuck? Before he can ask, Draco is looking away and talking to Harry.

"Harry," Draco says, his thumb rubbing along the handle of his wand in a thoughtful manner. "It's quite... odd. He's not a wizard, but this almost reads like an Animagus. Almost." He puts his wand away, slightly annoyed at the confusing results.

Jake is again thrilled when Harry looks at him. He wants to crow with delight when Harry steps closer, even if Harry's eyes are narrowed as he looks him over carefully, pausing imperceptibly at his crotch. He kind of wants to cover himself and has him stifling an insane urge to giggle. He's not shy but this is a different kind of 'looking' than what he's used to. It makes his insides squirm rather pleasantly. He has to fight the urge to preen, show off and see if Harry approves.

"What?" Harry murmurs, mostly to himself, and glares at the blonde when Draco snickers at him. "Wizards are Animagi. How can you be one and not the other?" he asks. He's looking at Jake but clearly speaking to Draco.

Jake doesn't mind. Harry's looking at him. Harry has his head tilted a little to the side and his lips are parted slightly. It's utterly charming. His hand starts to rise; he wants to run his thumb over that plump scarlet bottom lip so badly his body reacts without his consent. He catches it in time, though, and stuffs his hand in the back pocket of his cutoffs before the move is obvious. He shifts quickly and notices the two men move as well, both going tense as their hands dart to their pockets. Interesting.

Draco shrugs, eyes still slightly narrowed. He doesn't quite trust the massive stranger. "I have no idea," he says, somehow sounding irritated and unconcerned at the same time. He looks at Jacob for a long moment. The dark haired man (he's rather certain he's Native American) is massive, modestly muscled and seems to exude heat like a walking furnace.

His grey eyes flick up, hopefully in an inconspicuous manner, as he takes in how tall Jacob is; the man is almost 7 feet tall. At a respectable height of 6' 3", he's feeling almost dwarfed by the tall stranger; he can only imagine how Harry must feel. He nearly snickers. He glances over and does snicker softly at the curious (edging towards interested) look on Harry's face as he looks up at Jacob. He's not blind to the way Jacob is staring at Harry. He can understand, really; Harry is bloody gorgeous. So is Jacob, in an exotic way. He's confused a moment that he doesn't feel even the smallest stab of jealousy, towards either of them.

"Jacob, what's around here?" Draco asks, looking around.

Jake shakes himself visibly and looks at Draco. His dark brown eyes sharpen as he blinks away the slightly dazed feeling and he waves a hand vaguely around. "Forks," he says with a shrug. "This is La Push. My reservation is just a short ways from here. Other than that, nothing really." He shrugs again and looks back at Harry, dismissing Draco in favor of staring at Harry's hands. He can tell those hands can do a lot, have done a lot and hopefully will do a lot more. He wills away a blush at the inappropriate direction his thoughts go.

Draco smirks and shakes his head. He hasn't a clue what the man means by 'reservation' but he understands the 'nothing' part. It looks like a sleepy, small, boring town. Harry will love it.

"No," Harry says distractedly, staring intently at Jacob's face. "He means are there more people with wands or—" He waves a hand at Jake," like you."

Jake shakes his head, a furrow between his eyebrows for a moment before his face lights up. "No, but my pack is around." He rolls his lips over his teeth, wishing he could take the words back. He manages not to grimace and silently releases a relieved sigh when neither man does anything but look intrigued.

"Pack?" Draco frowns. "Like... wolves?"

Jake starts and looks at Draco with a strange smile. "I'm, uh, actually late," he says evasively. He's already said too much. Sam is going to skin him for being late, he can't imagine the reaction from Sam if he finds out he blurted out information about the pack.

Harry and Draco share a look before both turn back to Jake. "OK, well then, we'll let you get on with it." Harry says, waving a hand as if to banish him.

Jake starts when he thinks Harry could do just that. He nods but doesn't move. He wants to take Harry with him but there's no way he would ask a perfect stranger to go with him. The pack would be furious. Maybe. He has a strong feeling this strange dark haired man is his imprint; he's heard enough from some of the other guys to recognize the strange feelings now. He can't help it, he makes a soft whining noise deep in his throat and Harry stares up at him.

He has finally found his imprint and it's a guy. Fuck. Sam is definitely going to skin him.

"What's wrong, Jake?" Harry asks softy, stepping closer and Jake has to bite down on a moan. Oh man, Harry saying his name like just made his whole body flair sharply with warmth and want. This is so unfair. He wishes he had more time... "Are you alright?"

Jake nods and then shakes his head sharply. The confused motion makes the blonde laugh, though thankfully not cruelly. Harry's expression is bemused and Jake is truly lost. How can he possibly explain? He can't, not right now. He wants to whine again. "I'm OK," he finally manages. "I gotta go. Will... Are you— Can I..." he trails off once again and runs his hands through his shaggy hair in annoyed frustration. "Where are you guys staying?" Harry doesn't even look to the blonde and Jake feels smug for some reason.

"Some bed and breakfast in Forks," Harry says, not even concerned with the sharp glance he gets from Draco. He has no problems seeing Jake again, even if it's only because they can use a local guide. That sounds reasonable enough... "I'm pretty sure it's the only one in town. Why?" he asks, again cocking his head a bit to the side.

Jake nearly whimpers. "Just asking," he mutters. "I'd like to... well, it would be nice to bump into you again. Both of you," he adds hastily but he hears the blonde snort and mutter a sarcastic 'sure'. He fights another blush and forces himself to look at Harry calmly. "Well, I gotta go. I'm already late enough to be in deep shit. So. Yeah," he says, already backing away towards the tress. "I hope to see you again." With that he turns and runs into the trees, stripping quickly and phasing immediately after he's clear of the beach.

Harry and Draco share a confused look and shrug. America is already turning out to be quite the interesting place.