Jasper licked his lips and excitedly promised, “I’ll never tell anyone, Edward, I swear to fucking God. Please,” he begged, body already poised in anticipation of Edward’s resignation.
“Bella…” Edward worried, brows pinched tightly in concern.
Jasper couldn’t contain his anger as he snapped, “So, what? It’s okay for her to go around kissing motherfuckers while you’re together, but you have to sit and pine away for her once you’re apart? What kind of fucked up double standard is that?” Jasper quickly caught himself at the sight of Edward’s tormented expression, softly adding, “She’ll never even know.”
So expectant was Jasper becoming of Edward’s rejection—he’d really ruined his chances with his quick temper—that Edward’s quiet, “You promise not to tell?” completely took him off guard.
Vehemently, Jasper nodded, so much so that his faux-brown hair flopped and swayed, and when Edward finally raised his eyes to his, Jasper thought he might just fucking explode right then. He’d never had reason to imagine his fantasies might come to fruition. Every one of them began with Jasper kissing Edward.
The air seemed to buzz as Edward took a deep breath, turning his body to Jasper’s and noting bluntly, “This is kind of weird.” But Jasper didn’t think it was weird at all. Jasper thought it was right and perfect and meant to be.
Then Jasper wondered if Edward’s hopeless romanticism wasn’t rubbing off on him.
Jasper wanted other things of Edward’s to rub off on him.
Trying desperately to shake himself, Jasper lied, “It’s not a big deal,” and pivoted toward Edward, his every cell electrified in wait.
Edward didn’t use his hands or touch Jasper in any intimate fashion. Instead, without any preamble, he leaned into him and placed his lips over Jasper’s. Jasper was thrumming with excitement as his breaths grew sharper, nervous as his hands raised to touch Edward’s face, apprehensive as he attempted to cavalierly mimic what he’d seen so many others do.
Edward’s lips felt tight in the infancy of the kiss and Jasper wondered if it was normal. Then as Jasper’s hand met Edward’s hair and the hot skin of his jaw, they began to slacken, the kiss growing loose and languid, slow and sensual.
Below the soft wool of his pants, Jasper throbbed and twitched.
Tongue. Jasper wanted tongue. He was rushed and greedy in his impatience, prodding the crease of Edward’s lips with the pointed tip of his tongue. Edward’s lips tightened once more, but were ultimately parted in Jasper’s wild persistence.
Jasper was zealous and hungry and lightheaded as he clutched Edward’s face to his and moved his tongue throughout the cavern of Edward’s warm mouth. Jasper’s breaths were gritty and abrasive, his head tilting to accommodate his near-maniac enthusiasm to explore.
Edward suddenly yanked himself away, eyes wide as Jasper’s tongue guiltily sought his own wet lips. Jasper worried and inwardly scolded himself for being so aggressive in his haste to absorb the perfection of the moment.
Edward brought the back of his hand to his mouth, wiping away the gloss of Jasper’s kiss. “A little… sloppy,” Edward murmured. He made a poor attempt at hiding his grimace.
Jasper’s heart plummeted to his stomach. He’d been a shitty kisser, and now, that was the only intimate impression Edward had of him. Edward had said himself, kisses were important. Jasper was horrified at his poor technique. “Let me try again,” Jasper begged, moving closer to Edward’s body.
Before Edward could answer—his nose still a little wrinkled—Jasper swiftly captured his lips with his own, and though Jasper held Edward in what could have been interpreted as an aggressive manner, his lips were the antithesis of his grasp in Edward’s hair. Jasper offered soft pecks that he figured weren’t slobbery at all. Edward—stiff and reluctant—sighed against him, an exasperated sound that Jasper used as an advantage to force his tongue inside.
Jasper was much slower this time. He even drew his tongue back with each prod, Edward eventually acclimating to his wet rhythm of dive and retreat, dive and retreat, dive and retreat. He swallowed each time his lips closed, hoping that he wasn’t being ‘sloppy’ anymore.
Edward didn’t yank himself away this time, instead indulging Jasper in what felt like an hour long make out session, but was probably more like a two minute kiss.
“Better.” Edward offered a small smile when he pulled away, his lips a satisfying, shiny pink as a result of Jasper’s soft suction.
Jasper was engulfed in a sense of ecstasy at Edward’s praise, proud and particularly blissful. “Practice makes perfect,” he pondered, a serious jest that he accentuated with an excited smile.
Edward emitted two dry chuckles, his eyes still echoing of a distinct void. “I think you’re good,” he said before lying down and closing his eyes.
“Third time’s a charm?” Jasper nervously dared, a little disappointed at Edward’s answering yawn.
“Mind if I crash here?” Edward asked, though he was already burrowing his feet and legs beneath the blankets.
Jasper answered by turning off his lamp and nestling himself into Edward’s side. He was momentarily afraid that the kisses might make Edward resistant to his affection, but Edward was compliant in his exhaustion.
—
“I don’t know about you, but I’m exhausted.” Jasper accentuated this with a rather dramatic yawn, stretching his arms high into the air for effect.
Carlisle and Esme both nodded, but Jasper’s gaze was fixed to their motionless nephew, lounging on the sofa and watching the television with disinterested eyes.
“Yeah. Okay,” Edward replied in a monotone voice and rose, following Jasper up the stairs.
They went to bed together now.
Jasper ignored Esme’s prying eyes as they followed the boys up the staircase, down the hall, and disappeared behind Jasper’s bedroom door.
Once inside, Jasper could no longer contain his ardor. He turned to Edward, grasped the back of his head and crushed their faces together. Jasper’s lips moved over Edward’s in a militant fashion—invading and assailing. Jasper sucked and pulled in his frenzy, gasps hissing from his nose in broken octaves and caustic whirrs.
Edward’s hands hung limply at his sides, his head and face and lips accommodating as they shifted to adapt to Jasper’s nearly violent kisses. Jasper’s hands weaved through hair as he ducked and straightened in a series of indecisive poses. He settled with running his palms down Edward’s sides and grasping his narrow hips.
Jasper’s tongue protruded and coerced Edward’s lips into an obedient separation, as it always did. Jasper loved the taste of Edward, would have smiled had he not been so occupied with his rampant lips.
He tugged Edward closer to his bed, careful not to break their sacred chain of dive and retreat, dive and retreat, dive and retreat. Jasper was getting closer, his hands roaming Edward’s hips with the thrilling promise of fleshy palmfulls of Edward’s tight ass.
With an inhale through his nose, he quickly descended until his hands were there, splaying across the swells beneath the denim and burning with the need for less clothing. But that was the next step, Jasper reminded himself. He had been so patient, had spent an entire month just badgering Edward for kisses alone.
With time, Jasper had been able to escalate their nightly meetings, from innocent kisses meant to provide Jasper with experience, to fevered, pious displays that Edward rarely objected to. In fact, Edward never said a word.
Jasper was becoming quite frustrated.
Edward never touched Jasper. He never made the sounds Jasper emitted. He never initiated or begged Jasper for more. He never closed his eyes. He never tensed or strained under the struggle of his arousal.
Edward was passive, at best.
Jasper’s kisses grew more aggressive and frenetic, as they always did. Edward’s complete indifference was maddening to him, made his lips furl and flame in persistence and censure. His tongue prodded and shoved—a hopeful poke to an inanimate body.
But Jasper had much to be thankful for. He had Edward’s tongue in his waiting mouth, his lips on his own, his ass beneath his eager palms, his groin only inches from Jasper’s aching erection. And Jasper had gained even more than that. Edward spent more time with Jasper, even ate lunch at his table during school. He’d always talk softly with Edward while the brunette Swan girl sat across the room, silent and visibly morose.
Jasper enjoyed seeing her red eyes, her pallid skin, and her obvious remorse. She’d cast Edward the most desirous of glances from across the room while he sat before Jasper with his back to the girl. Jasper basked in her dejection, would chat happily with Edward about menial things as the hour passed. He’d long to hold his hand beneath the cover of the table, and had only recently worked up the nerve necessary to do so.
Edward hadn’t even spared him a puzzled glance. He’d merely accepted Jasper’s grasp, staring into his plate of food with a blank expression. Jasper had soared as his thumb had rubbed and caressed, his voice never pausing. He’d felt as if he were the luckiest fucker in the entire lunchroom. Jasper didn’t even care that no one could see.
Jasper had decided to be patient with Edward, as his gratitude for these small developments was simply unquantifiable. At nights, Jasper would kiss Edward and display his unbridled hunger for his tongue and lips and hair and skin and it was the best portion of his day, most of which was spent at Edward’s side anyway. It was so much like how it had been, and Jasper was wholly euphoric to be back in Edward’s good graces and then some.
But Jasper’s patience was wearing thin. He needed Edward to touch him. He was growing fretful with Edward’s lethargy and grabbed his warm hand while his face smashed itself closer, always greedy. Edward didn’t protest as Jasper brought it between them, crushed it to his throbbing dick, and groaned into his wet mouth.
Jasper used his hand to guide Edward’s, sliding it up and down his erection as he plunged and withdrew, plunged and withdrew, plunged and withdrew. Jasper was aching now, his belly tight and burdened, coiled cord around a tender bale. He whimpered and growled, forcing Edward’s pliant hand faster and faster and faster. He recalled how he’d often fantasized about this, Edward’s hand finally, finally, touching Jasper’s cock. It was just as he’d imagined it, except—
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