Fic - I Wept Not [10/24]
Jan. 27th, 2012 11:51 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
arcadianmaggieSummary: Jasper is a war weary soldier burdened by the weight of eternity. Edward is an uncomplicated high school student content to hide his sexuality. Together can Jasper find something to live for and Edward discover some things are worth dying for? AU, slash.
Chapter 9 | Masterpost
"To see a world in a grain of sand
And a heaven in a wild flower,
Hold infinity in the palm of your hand
And eternity in an hour.."
- William Blake, "Auguries of Innocence," l. 1-4
Chapter 10 – Eternity in an Hour
EPOV
Bella and I sat in the stands watching Mike and the rest of the team on the field below. The air was crisp and cool with the taste of fall. Bella was hunched over, pressed close to my side with her hands wrapped around a cup of hot chocolate, trying to stay warm.
"Brrr. We should have brought a blanket," she said with a dramatic shiver.
"Here, you can have my scarf," I said, unwinding the green wool from around my neck and draping it across her shoulders.
"Thanks," she said as she wrapped it around her neck. I saw her bend her face down so that her nose was covered by its folds and take in a deep breath.
"Bella," I said in warning.
"What?" she asked innocently.
"You were sniffing my scarf," I said in an accusing tone.
"And?" she asked.
"You were sniffing my scarf!" I said again, as if it were self explanatory.
She rolled her eyes. "I can still think you smell good without it meaning I'm in love with you, Edward," she said.
"If you say so," I said with a tinge of disbelief.
"I do say so," she said. "As a matter of fact, I don't know why I'm smelling your scarf when I have the real thing so close." With that she leaned over and stuck her nose in my neck, nuzzling it behind my ear and rubbing it up and down as she made loud, over exaggerated sniffing noises. "Mmm, you smell goooood," she crooned in between sniffs.
"Stop! That tickles!" I told her, leaning away from her and trying unsuccessfully not to laugh. She leaned with me, continuing to sniff until she collapsed in a fit of giggles. I sat back up laughing and put my arm around her, giving her a squeeze.
"God, you're a freak," I said with a smile.
"Takes one to know one," she quipped back, sticking out her tongue.
"I know you are, but what…" I stopped abruptly as I saw a tall figure in a leather jacket watching us from the edge of the stands. My heart raced.
"He came," I said softly. Bella followed my gaze to where Jasper stood standing.
"Oh," she said with a small gasp of surprise. When he made no move to come closer and indeed looked as if he may leave instead, she said, "You go, Edward. I'll catch a ride with Alice if I need to."
I wasn't going to argue. I gave her a quick kiss on the cheek, saying, "Thanks, Bella," before making my way down the stands to where Jasper stood.
The past several weeks had been both thrilling and confusing. When I had encountered Jasper by the side of the road while I had been out running a few weekends ago, I had been one hundred percent certain that the powerful attraction I felt for him had been returned.
I had first seen him from a distance as he made his way through the trees at the edge of the forest, his movements powerful and graceful. Even though he was too far away for me to see his face, there was something about the way his body moved, so strong and sure, that was immediately recognizable to me. He waited by the side of the road, a solitary figure cloaked with an aura of danger. If it had been anyone else, anyone but the boy I was so inexplicably drawn to, I might have been afraid, seeing his imposing figure standing alone on a lightly traveled road near the edge of the woods. My heart rate increased as I neared him, but it wasn't from fear.
He practically glowed with energy and I felt that irresistible pull as I stood there panting and sweating from my run, trying to catch my breath. His hair was loose around his face, untamed and wild. We simply stared at each other, my eyes traveling over his muscled chest under his tight long sleeve tee, down his body to the unmistakable bulge in his pants. At the sight a surge of desire ripped through me and images of our bodies entwined, naked and thrusting, raced through my head. I raised my eyes to his face and saw his eyes darkened with desire, the gold so stunning against the pupils, black as night.
Jasper Whitlock wanted me.
He could damn well have me.
I took a step closer and my movements seemed to rouse him out of his lusty haze. His expression became shuttered as he took a small step back in response, keeping the distance between us. Disappointment washed over me and I was reminded of my attempt to hug him goodbye the first time I had stopped over at his house after school.
"Good morning, Edward," he said. God, I loved hearing him say my name. "Are you enjoying your run?"
My momentary disappointment was not enough to dampen the thrill I had gotten from the knowledge that this gorgeous creature found me desirable.
"Yes, I am," I responded. "The scenery's great along this route." I grinned at him, flirting outrageously and letting my eyes travel over his body in an obvious manner. I didn't care how corny my line sounded.
"It is indeed," he replied and those shutters briefly opened to reveal a twinkle in his eye before slamming tightly shut again into an impassive expression.
Not wanting to push things, but wanting to spend more time with him, I asked, "Would you like to run with me? I was about to turn around and head back towards town."
"I'd like that," he answered. I inwardly cheered as he agreed.
He matched his pace to mine and we ran side by side in companionable silence. Occasionally I'd slow down a bit and fall behind so I could stare at the muscles in his back as his arms pumped at his sides and watch the curve of his ass as his legs pounded the road. He was incredibly sexy. I could look at him all day. The tension that existed whenever I was around him only grew stronger as we moved together down the road. I wondered if he felt it too. I fantasized about ripping his shirt off and running my hands over his body, feeling those hard muscles under my fingertips, gripping his juicy ass in my hands. My dick started responding to my thoughts and I shook my head, telling myself to slow the fuck down or I'd be trying to run with a massive hard on. Still, it didn't hurt to look. The boy was fine.
I stopped when I reached the juncture in the road where I knew our paths would diverge. The Cullens lived on the far edge of town in the opposite direction from my own neighborhood. As we came to a stop, I leaned over, resting my hands on my knees for a minute, taking a few deep breaths. I stood up and wiped the sweat off my brow and turned towards Jasper, reluctant to see him go. I was amazed as I looked over at him; he looked like he hadn't even broken a sweat and wasn't the slightest bit out of breath. He appeared as energized and fresh as when I had first seen him this morning. God, he was gorgeous.
"Wow, you are in incredible shape," I told him. "You should think about joining the cross country team." I would love that. I'd get to see him at practices, meets, in the showers…
He shifted uncomfortably, looking nervous. He obviously wasn't keen on that idea.
"Or not," I said, trailing off. He still hadn't spoken.
I tried another suggestion. "Maybe you could come running with me again some morning."
"I'd like that," he said.
"Yeah?" I asked, a huge grin on my face.
"Yes," he answered with a small smile. We stood there on the side of the road, looking into each other's eyes. I knew I probably looked dopey, smiling and staring, but I didn't care. He wanted to spend more time with me outside of school and that made me practically fucking giddy. A car driving by broke our stare and I laughed a little in embarrassment.
"Well, I guess I should be getting home," I said, making no move to leave. He didn't seem to be in any hurry to go either.
"I guess," he repeated noncommittally.
We stood there a while longer, staring at each other, loathe to part. Monday seemed a long time away. I had some sudden inspiration.
"A group of us are going to Sequim to catch the game tonight. Do you want to ride over with me?"
I watched his face as he seemed to struggle with an answer, indecision marring his perfect features. "Tonight's not a good night," he finally answered.
"Oh, okay." I was disappointed beyond words. I didn't want to look at him and have him see just how rejected I felt when I heard his answer. I'm sure it was written all over my face.
We stood there in silence for another long moment. I heard his voice again, speaking hesitantly: "Would you like to come over tomorrow for another game of chess?"
I raised my head to look at him, another stupid wide grin splitting my face. "I'd love to."
"Good," he said. "Just stop by whenever you want. I'll be around all day."
I wonder how early he gets up in the morning, I thought to myself with amusement.
Knowing that I was going to see him the next day made it easier to go our separate ways. I replayed our interaction in my head over and over that night while at the game with the gang, barely paying attention to what was going on around me. That look in his eyes… his obvious arousal… I hadn't been mistaken, I was sure of it. Just thinking about it made my stomach do flips.
Over the next few weeks I was less sure. We had gotten together numerous times, and although there were moments when I had caught him staring at me and thought I saw that same look in his eyes, for the most part, he maintained that maddening impassive expression. I started to wonder if I had imagined it.
I, on the other hand, was anything but impassive. He had a powerful effect on me. I couldn't stop staring at him, wanting to touch him, be close to him, to smell him. I lived for the moments when our knees would bump under the chess table. I loved the times when he'd lean in towards me as we talked, his expression losing that controlled mask for a moment and revealing an intensity, a longing, that made my head spin and left me wondering if he was as affected by me as I was by him.
It seemed as if each time I broke through that impassive façade, the wall would slam down twice as fast and as hard as before.
During prep hour, I subtly tried to solicit information about Jasper from Alice. As usual, she was entirely too perceptive, but she seemed to approve of my interest in her brother.
"He likes you too, Edward. You're good for him," she told me. "I'm glad you're becoming friends."
When I tried to find out more about his life before he came to live with the Cullens, wondering what had happened to make him so wary and cautious, she was very evasive. "That's something you'll have to ask him about Edward," she told me. Her expression was troubled. "His life was… full of violence." I felt sick to my stomach as she spoke. "Just… please be patient with him."
I was reminded of Mr. Mistoffolees, the black cat that lived in the colony in the woods behind the Newton's store. Mrs. Newton had worked with a local shelter to trap the animals one by one. They had a program to spay and neuter the feral cats then afterwards they'd be released back out into the woods. The Newtons had taken to feeding the colony as it had stabilized to a recognizable group. Eventually, a few of the animals began to hang around the store, waiting for the food to be put down. Occasionally, they'd even let one of the Newtons pet them, or became brave enough to rub up against a leg.
Mr. Mistoffolees would come close the back door of the store, but when the food was brought out, he'd move just out of reach, waiting until the bowl was set down on the ground, only returning close when the human retreated. He was always on the periphery, watching and observing. The last holdout. After months of this behavior and of Mr. Newton studiously ignoring the skittish creature, Mr. Mistoffolees finally brushed up gently against Mr. Newton's leg one afternoon. Now the cat even allowed an occasional scratch behind the ears, but only by Mr. Newton and only very rarely.
If Alice said I should be patient, then patient I would be. That didn't stop me, however, from trying to draw him out, from inviting him to any group activities I and my friends had planned. I had sat with Bella this past Friday at this same football field, distracted and periodically scanning the crowd, hoping that he might show up. Bella noticed my lack of attention.
"Looking for someone?" she asked.
"Hmm?" I responded, noncommittally.
"I just noticed that you're not watching the game and you seem to be looking for someone. It wouldn't happen to be an insanely gorgeous, tall blonde Texan would it?"
Insanely gorgeous? Bella wasn't interested in him too, was she? Although why wouldn't she be. He was movie star good looking and certainly the hottest guy in Forks.
"Wait," I said. "You're not interested in Jasper, are you? Is he the guy you met over the summer?"
"Hardly," she scoffed. "I should hope I learned my lesson about that!"
I was confused. "What do you mean?" I asked.
"You know," she said elbowing me playfully. "The falling for unavailable guys lesson."
"Oh," I answered, deflated. "I didn't realize he was seeing someone." I felt overwhelmingly disappointed. I couldn't believe I had never even thought about that possibility. Of course a guy as smart and as good looking as he was seeing someone.
"Edward," she said in an exasperated tone. "That's not what I meant. I meant that I think you're more his type."
"Me?" I asked, hope returning. Bella was very observant. She had been the first one to figure out I was gay, after all.
"Yes, you," she said laughing. "I think Jasper has a thing for you."
"Really?" I asked excitedly. I started to ramble, letting it all pour out. "Because I could have sworn he was attracted to me, and God knows I'm attracted to him. He is so fucking hot. But then it seems like every time we get a little close, he pulls away and it's so confusing, and then I started to think that maybe I imagined it. So you think? Really?"
Bella was laughing at me. "Yes, really, Edward. He looks at you like you're something to eat."
"God, I wish," I said with a heartfelt sigh, feeling my dick twitch at even the suggestion.
My heart was lighter after that conversation. I would be patient and I wouldn't push, but I was not going to hide how I was feeling. Jasper would know for certain that I was interested in him and when he was ready, I'd be there waiting.
I had called him that weekend to go running with me again on Sunday morning and he agreed, meeting me at the same intersection from which we had parted last time. He was waiting when I ran up and I was gratified to see that that hungry look was back in his eyes. Now that Bella had reinforced the idea that Jasper was interested in me, I decided to not over-think things and just enjoy the times he dropped his mask and showed me how he felt. I'm sure he could see a similar look reflected back at him.
It was too difficult to talk while we were both running, but I didn't mind; I was happy to be spending time with him, just the two of us. I was completely aware of him every single second. Once again I slowed my pace so I could watch his body as he ran, his muscles rippling underneath his clothes. His physique was unreal. My own body couldn't help but respond to him.
After our run we made arrangements to meet after school again next week on afternoons I didn't have practice, and I went home, happy and excited. As I showered my mind was full of images of Jasper and I stroked myself to orgasm thinking of his strong back, his firm ass, those full and luscious lips. I wanted to feel them on my own lips; I wanted to feel them on my cock. I wanted to feel him.
Every chance I got, I observed Jasper carefully, wanting to know everything about him. I noticed that he hated to eat in front of people. He avoided physical contact with anyone but Alice. In fact they were very affectionate with each other, often holding each other's hand, or giving each other supportive hugs. Alice would also have no qualms about settling in Jasper's lap and putting her arms around his neck and resting her head on his shoulder. She was the sole recipient of his dazzling smiles. I envied how comfortable they were with each other and how he seemed to trust her implicitly. I was more determined than ever to be patient and allow Jasper to come to trust me as a friend too.
That he had shown up here tonight, at my invitation, sent a thrill through me. I hoped that meant I was making progress. I stopped in front of him after I made my way down the stands. "Hi Jasper," I said with a wide smile. "I'm really glad you decided to come. Do you want to sit with us?"
He looked up at Bella and she gave us a small wave from the bleachers. "I don't want to intrude," he said looking uncomfortable.
"It's not an intrusion," I assured him. "I invited you, after all." I added shyly, "I was hoping you'd show up." He searched my face
Just then the crowd let out a huge roar and people jumped to their feet. Jasper seemed to almost reel as he took a step backwards, shock on his face.
"Are you okay?" I asked.
He seemed a little embarrassed. "Yes, I'm fine. I was just startled. I…usually avoid crowds," he said.
"We could get out of here if you want. I don't need to see the game," I suggested. "Mike will be giving me a play by play later anyway."
"That sounds good, if you really don't mind. Do you want to come back to the house?"
"Sure," I replied. I was more than fine with hanging out with him one on one rather than being at a stadium full of people. I looked to find Bella again and when I caught her eye, signaled that we would be leaving. She gave me the okay sign with her fingers as Jasper and I headed for the parking lot.
I asked where his car was and he said Esme had dropped him off, so I directed him to my Volvo. Sitting so close to him in the small enclosed space of the car made me both nervous and excited. He smelled fantastic—somewhat spicy, a little woodsy with a touch of something sweet, maybe almonds. I thought about Bella jokingly sniffing my neck earlier and I wished that I could lean in and do the same to Jasper. Instead I settled for taking a deep lungful, enjoying his scent.
We didn't talk much on the drive over. When we arrived at his house, I was surprised to see the two figures seated in the living room.
"Edward!" Emmett roared. "How've you been?"
"Doing fine. It's good to see you, Emmett! How's college?"
"College is great. We missed everyone, though, so Rosalie and I thought we'd come home for the weekend."
I looked over to acknowledge Rosalie sitting on the couch next to him. "Rosalie," I said, nodding.
"Masen," she said in that familiar slightly bitchy tone.
Jasper, probably sensing the frost in the air, said to me, "C'mon. We can hang out in my room."
My stomach did a little flip flop. I turned and followed Jasper from the room.
"Catch you later, guys," I said to Emmett and Rosalie.
As we started up the stairs I heard Rosalie whisper loudly to Emmett, "What is he doing here?"
I rolled my eyes. Same old Rosalie.
When we got to the top of the stairs Jasper turned to me, looking apologetic. "I'm sorry about that."
I reassured him, "Oh, don't worry about it. She's never liked me. It doesn't bother me."
"Still," he responded, "you're my guest."
"Really, Jasper. Don't worry about it," I insisted.
He searched my face for a moment then nodded, saying, "My room is this way."
He led me to a room at the end of the hall. The back wall immediately drew my eyes. It was almost all glass, with large windows looking out over the trees beyond. In front of it sat a black leather sofa and a low table with a few books lying on top. The wall to the right was completely covered with shelves from floor to ceiling, every single one filled to the brim with books. The opposite wall housed a large bed covered with several pillows and a handmade quilt.
"Wow," I said looking around. "You have a ton of books." I inwardly cringed at how stupid I must have sounded. Way to state the obvious, Edward.
Jasper watched me take it all in.
I wandered over to the shelves to check out the titles. They were predominately filled with two types of books: history books and poetry.
"Have you read all these?" I asked incredulously.
"Not all of them. A lot of them. Some are Carlisle's."
"History's always been my worst subject," I admitted. "I find it kind of boring. All those dates to remember."
"History shouldn't be about memorizing dates. It should be stories about the people and their passions."
"I guess I never really thought about it like that."
"Take war, for example. Many were about people, like you, having something in their lives important enough to die for."
He continued on, "Numerous wars have been fought in the name of religion. I know many people today think that idea of fighting—killing people—over religion is barbaric and primitive, but humans were no different during the Crusades than they are today. They're still motivated by the same drives, the same passions, the same hopes and dreams. Religious wars are certainly not a thing of the past."
I loved it when he let his guard down to talk about subjects he liked.
He came closer to me as he spoke. "Wars have been fought for less glorious causes—control of resources, territorial disputes, power, simple intolerance. Scholars and philosophers have argued for centuries over what makes a war 'just,' if there can even be such a thing. And soldiers weren't always men taking a stand for something noble. Many were mercenaries, or joined the military out of civic obligation, or as simply a job to earn money to feed their families. It's easy to judge the past through the lens of the future; it's harder to understand the heart of a man who acts in ways that are foreign to today's values. But even he must have had his reasons. It must have meant something, even if his choices were not ones we would choose to make today."
I had never heard anyone our age talk like him. My parents and their friends, maybe, as they sat around the dinner table arguing about politics. He was almost magnetic as he expressed his views. I found him endlessly fascinating.
"When you put it like that, it's doesn't sound boring at all," I told him.
I wasn't done with my exploring. I walked over to the table to look at the books he had laid out there.
"What are you reading now?" I asked.
"Some poetry," he answered. "Wilfred Owen, William Blake."
"I saw all the poetry books," I said, nodding my head back towards the shelves. "Bella would love your collection."
"She likes poetry?"
"Mmm hmm," I answered absently, picking up the Owen book and leafing through it. I read through a few of the poems. They were obviously about war, but they seemed almost at odds with the conversation we had just had.
"Sometimes when I struggle for answers, I find that poetry speaks to deeper truths," he said, as if answering my unspoken thoughts.
"Will you read one to me?" I asked. I loved the sound of his voice. I wanted to hear that southern drawl sliding over the words on the page.
He slid the book gently out of my hands. "Not the Owen. Not for you. But the Blake..."
He picked up the other book from the table, but didn't open it. Instead he started to speak in a low smooth voice.
"Little Lamb, who made thee?
Dost thou know who made thee?
Gave thee life, and bid thee feed,
By the stream and o'er the mead;
Gave thee clothing of delight,
Softest clothing, woolly, bright;
Gave thee such a tender voice,
Making all the vales rejoice?
Little Lamb, who made thee?
Dost thou know who made thee?"
"I recognize that one," I said when he paused. "Songs of Innocence, right?"
"Yes."
"Will you read me another one? Something longer, maybe?" I asked, wanting time to revel in the sound of his voice.
"If you like," he responded. I nodded. "Did you want to sit?" he asked, motioning to the leather couch in front of us.
I sat at one end and lifted my knee onto the cushion, hooking my foot underneath my other knee, so I could face him as he took a seat at the opposite end. He mirrored my pose and flipped through the book, stopping at a page and beginning to speak.
"To see a World in a Grain of Sand
And a Heaven in a Wild Flower
Hold Infinity in the palm of your hand
And Eternity in an hour," he began.
I recognized the beginnings of Auguries of Innocence, and not just because Mike had made me watch the Tomb Raider movie at least a dozen times, but from actually having read it in my English class. Suddenly, it was infinitely more interesting than when my teacher had discussed it with us last year. I settled in, watching his face as he recited the paradoxical lines, letting the smooth sound of his voice wash over me.
I almost began to tune out the actual words, finding myself lost in the cadence of his speech. I enjoyed the opportunity to study him in detail as his eyes remained on the page. His hands were strong yet elegant. His lips were supple and full. I was mesmerized watching them move as he spoke. As had happened with increasing frequency lately, I found myself wondering what those lips would feel like pressed against mine. We were so close on this couch, alone up in his bedroom. How would he react if I simply leaned over to kiss him, just took a chance and went for it? Would he kiss me back? Would he press me back against the arm rest of the couch, his body leaning over mine? Would he grind up against me and run his hands over my body?
As if he could sense my thoughts, he lifted his eyes from the page. They were dark and penetrating. He looked me directly in the eye as he recited the next few lines:
"Some are Born to sweet delight
Some are Born to sweet delight
Some are Born to Endless Night."
His expression was so serious; I got the feeling he was warning me away. Maybe now wasn't the time. Maybe he wasn't ready for that, although I knew I completely was. I could be patient, as Alice had suggested. And in the meantime, that didn't mean I couldn't dream about his lips on mine, his hands on my skin.
He put the book back on the table as he finished the poem and stared at me, his eyes still dark. He was so sexy, it was unreal. I missed the sound of his voice already.
"Tell me about Texas," I asked, wanting to keep him talking.
"What would you like to know?" he asked in response.
"Anything," I answered, meaning it. I wanted to know anything and everything about him. Whatever he wanted to share about his life, I would eagerly be listening.
He told me about the magnolia tree that grew outside the kitchen window of a home he lived in when he was a boy. He spoke of the summer heat and the sun bright and hot, so different from Forks and the Olympic Peninsula. I told him about playing in the tide pools as a child and learning to fish with my Dad. He told me very little about actual events or details of his life; instead, I learned what he thought about different topics, how he felt about things. Each subject merged easily into another and before we knew it, hours had passed.
I didn't want the night to end. He had been so open with me, and I felt I could talk about anything with him. We were definitely growing closer and even though I didn't know his past, didn't know what brought him here, what events had made him the way he was, I still felt that I was beginning to know him. I was afraid that once I left, the next time I saw him he would be closed and guarded again.
Reluctantly, I spoke: "I need to go. My mom will get worried if I'm not home soon."
I knew I wasn't imagining the look of disappointment on his face. "Okay." He hesitated then added, "I'm glad you came over. It was… nice."
"It was. Nice," I replied, grinning, thinking that was the understatement of the year.
I didn't want to leave without a definite plan in place for the next time I could see him. "Would you like to meet me for another run Sunday morning?" I asked.
"I'd like that," he said, and I got the customary thrill hearing him agree to spend time with me. We confirmed the details as we walked down the stairs to the front door.
Once again I had the urge to kiss him, to just reach over and grab the back of his neck, pulling him to my face and pressing my lips against his. We were standing close and I could feel that crazy pull, stronger than ever. It was all I could do to stand there without acting on it. I had never felt such a strong attraction to anyone or anything.
"Well," I said, swallowing heavily, trying to control my urges, "Goodnight Jasper."
His eyes were so dark and I could see the emotions swirling in their depths, his impassive mask nowhere to be seen.
He reached his hand up towards my face and I felt my heart immediately race in anticipation of his touch as I held my breath.
Before his hand reached my skin, however, he dropped it to his side and took a small step back from me. "Goodnight, Edward," he said softly.
-o-
Sunday morning I left my house almost twenty minutes early to jog to our meeting spot. As I rounded the corner, I saw a tall figure already waiting at the intersection. I couldn't stop the wide smile from forming on my face. God, he looked good.
"Good morning, Edward," he said with a small smile as I stopped in front of him.
"Good morning," I replied, still grinning. I should be used to my reaction upon seeing him by now, but each time I was with him after any absence at all, I was again awed by his beauty, his magnificent presence. My heart would pound and my breath would catch and I'd feel like the luckiest guy in the world that he was here to spend time with me.
"You ready?" he asked.
"Yeah, let's go," I answered, heading out of town in the direction we usually took.
After we ran for a while I noticed the sky was beginning to darken and large clouds were forming in the distance.
"I think we should head back," I said. "That looks like it could get nasty."
Jasper agreed as we reversed our direction and started heading back towards town.
The sky grew darker and we could hear the rumblings of thunder in the distance. I looked back behind us and the clouds appeared to be rolling towards us at an alarming speed.
"I don't think we're going to make it home before it hits," I said, as raindrops started to hit my face. "We should head to my house; it's closer."
Jasper agreed and we picked up our pace as we tried to outrun the storm. When we were about a block away from my house, our luck ran out and we were drenched in a torrential downpour. It was as if huge buckets of cold water were being dumped directly over our heads. In seconds we were soaked to the skin.
"Run!" I yelled over the noise of the storm and I sprinted as fast as I could to the front door, yanking it open and hurrying inside, Jasper right behind me. We stood in the foyer, just dripping with water, huge puddles forming at our feet. I looked at Jasper, at his hair matted to his head, rivulets of water pouring down his face, his clothes soaked through and clinging to his body. Fueled by the adrenaline of our mad dash and struck by the ridiculousness of the situation, I burst out into peals of laughter.
Jasper, seeing my mirth, broke out into a dazzling smile and soon he was laughing too. The sound, one I had never heard from him before, was like music. His face was radiant, golden eyes dancing, deep dimples creasing his cheeks. I had never seen nor heard anything more beautiful in my life.
The impulse I had tamped down time and time again these past few weeks came rushing to the surface. Caught up in the exuberance of the moment, enraptured by his glowing visage, captivated by the sight of his wet clothing clinging to his body, revealing every muscular curve and line, I could no longer push it aside; I didn't want to.
My entire body strummed with anticipation as I reached one hand to the back of his neck and placed the other on his shoulder, pulling him closer as I leaned up to touch my lips to his. That electrical shock that had shot through me when we first had touched pulsed rapidly through my entire body, setting a fire blazing across my skin. I moved my lips against his mouth, and was consumed by a heady desire, drunk with the feel of his firm lips against mine, his hard muscles under my hands, his delicious scent filling my lungs. I was kissing Jasper and it was the most amazing moment of my entire life.
I felt him stiffen almost immediately, frozen in surprise at my action. I pulled away from him, too full of joy to be overly concerned at his not unexpected reaction. He stared at me in shock, his eyes darkened and full of emotion.
"What are you doing, Edward?" he whispered.
"Making the first move," I answered in a breathy voice, as I leaned in to kiss him again, my heart pounding in my chest.
As our lips touched, I became hyper aware of every sensation—the soft and smooth feel of his mouth, the firm and supple texture of the cool skin under my fingers, his spicy-sweet woodsy scent. I wanted to stay trapped in that moment forever, drowning in happiness and Jasper and the taste of honey on my lips. I pulled back again, smiling, and still he stood, completely immobile, as if he'd turned to stone. It was then that I noticed I had started to shiver and that Jasper's skin was ice cold under my hand.
"Geez, you're freezing!" I exclaimed in concern. "C'mon. We need to get you out of those wet clothes and warmed up." I grabbed his hand in mine and started pulling him towards the stairs. He followed obediently, not saying a word. We left a trail of water behind us as we made our way to the second floor.
I led him to my bathroom and turned the water on in the shower, adjusting the temperature until it was hot and steamy.
"Here you go," I said, grabbing a towel from the linen cabinet and placing it over the nearby hook. Just throw those clothes on the floor and I'll get you something to wear. You can change in my bedroom when you're done. I'll use the bathroom down the hall."
He nodded without speaking and I left him alone. I went back to my bedroom and pulled out a pair of sweats, a tee for underneath, some socks, and a pair of boxers. I left them on the bed for Jasper to put on when he was done. After grabbing some clothes for myself, I went down the hall to the guest bath to take my own shower.
I tried not to think about Jasper being naked and wet just down the hall as I soaped my skin and let the hot water warm me, but of course that was impossible. I hurried through my shower, so I wouldn't be tempted to jack off. Even so, I could barely keep the grin off my face as I thought about the feel of his lips under mine. He hadn't exactly kissed me back, but he hadn't pushed me away either. I wondered how he'd react if I did it again.
Once I was dressed, I grabbed my wet clothes from the floor and took them down to the laundry room. I headed back up the stairs to get Jasper's from my bathroom floor. When I opened the door to my bedroom, it was now me who was frozen in shock. Jasper stood clad only in a towel draped low across his hips, his impressive physique on display for my ravenous eyes. His hair was in damp tendrils around his face, as if it had been hastily rubbed with a towel. His shoulders were broad and strong, the planes of his chest smooth and defined, the muscles of his abdomen rock hard, his long legs and arms beautifully formed. The desire that I felt for him flared to life, bright and hot. I wanted to run my hands over his body, down his stomach, tracing the trail of hair that disappeared under the terry cloth fabric. I wanted to lick his chest and run my tongue over his nipples. I wanted to feel him, skin against skin, pressed hard against me.
What stopped me, however, was something else that was revealed now that I was seeing him without a shirt for the first time. His torso, his shoulders, his arms were completely covered in scars, faint but evident, in half moon shapes, criss-crossing his skin like a lattice of pain. He was literally covered in them. I now understood why he was excused from gym and wouldn't join any organized sports.
"Jasper, what happened to you?" I gasped in a shocked voice.
He didn't answer, but stood still, watching me warily as my eyes traveled over his body. I walked slowly towards him, taking his hand and gently tugging him down to sit on the bed next to the clothes I had laid out for him. I lifted my finger and traced the line of one the scars on his chest. When he didn't protest, I continued tracing more of the faint lines that covered his body, taking inventory of his pain. I couldn't image what he must have gone through, how many hours, days, weeks, even years of suffering he must have endured to receive such lasting marks. My heart ached for him.
I felt my throat tighten at even the thought of his pain and I hastily shut my eyes to prevent tears from escaping. I was overwhelmed with emotion and leaned over to place my lips against one of the scars on his shoulder.
He immediately stiffened, holding completely still, not even breathing, as my lips touched his skin, warm and damp from his shower. But he didn't pull away. I gently lifted his arm and pressed more kisses down his bicep across the web of scars that decorated his body then moved behind him on the bed to continue my actions across his strong wide back, as if my lips could take away the pain of his past. I placed more kisses down his other arm as I came back around him to sit at the edge of the bed next to him. I reached my hand up to touch his face and turn it gently toward me. I leaned in, whispering, "Jasper," as I pressed my lips gently against his mouth.
"Don't," he choked out in a strangled whisper, and my heart clenched. I pulled away and saw that his eyes were tightly closed. I rested my forehead against his, dropping my hand to his shoulder then leaned back after a moment, my hand sliding down his arm as I took his hand in mine. He opened his eyes and I was drowning in a maelstrom of emotion, his turmoil and conflict evident on his face.
"Jasper, I won't ever hurt you," I whispered to him in a low earnest voice, hoping he could hear the sincerity of my words. He was swallowing rapidly and a panicked expression was rapidly forming on his features.
Just then I heard the door downstairs opening and my mom calling, "Edward, I'm home." I stood, separating myself from Jasper, giving him some room to collect himself. Patient. I needed to be patient.
I had felt his hand beginning to chill again as I held it, so I said, "You're starting to get cold again. Why don't you get dressed and come downstairs. I'll introduce you to my mom. I'll just take your clothes down to put in the wash."
He nodded and I left the room.
A few minutes later I was introducing him to my mom in the kitchen, Jasper charming her with his smooth southern voice and his "How do you do, ma'am." They chatted for a few minutes, Mom asking him about school and his parents and siblings.
"Would you like to stay for lunch, Jasper?" she asked next.
"Thank you, but I need to get home. I have some homework to finish up before school tomorrow."
"I'll drive you," I told him and we said our goodbyes and headed out to the car.
We didn't speak the entire drive and I was nervous, wondering if I had ruined things with my impulsive actions today. When we pulled up to the house, I put the car in park and turned towards him.
"Jasper, I'm sorry if I made you uncomfortable today. I just… really like you," I admitted lamely.
He turned towards me, staring at me with that impassive expression I was coming to know so well. Then his face broke out into another one of his dazzling smiles; he reached over to pull my face towards his and he kissed me hard and fast, in a burst of passion that sent a flush to my face and my heart racing.
He leaned back, reaching for the door handle and said with a smile, "I like you too, Edward," and then he was gone, while I sat there stunned, a stupid grin breaking out over my face.
Chapter 11 | Masterpost | Poetry
Chapter 9 | Masterpost
And a heaven in a wild flower,
Hold infinity in the palm of your hand
And eternity in an hour.."
- William Blake, "Auguries of Innocence," l. 1-4
Chapter 10 – Eternity in an Hour
EPOV
Bella and I sat in the stands watching Mike and the rest of the team on the field below. The air was crisp and cool with the taste of fall. Bella was hunched over, pressed close to my side with her hands wrapped around a cup of hot chocolate, trying to stay warm.
"Brrr. We should have brought a blanket," she said with a dramatic shiver.
"Here, you can have my scarf," I said, unwinding the green wool from around my neck and draping it across her shoulders.
"Thanks," she said as she wrapped it around her neck. I saw her bend her face down so that her nose was covered by its folds and take in a deep breath.
"Bella," I said in warning.
"What?" she asked innocently.
"You were sniffing my scarf," I said in an accusing tone.
"And?" she asked.
"You were sniffing my scarf!" I said again, as if it were self explanatory.
She rolled her eyes. "I can still think you smell good without it meaning I'm in love with you, Edward," she said.
"If you say so," I said with a tinge of disbelief.
"I do say so," she said. "As a matter of fact, I don't know why I'm smelling your scarf when I have the real thing so close." With that she leaned over and stuck her nose in my neck, nuzzling it behind my ear and rubbing it up and down as she made loud, over exaggerated sniffing noises. "Mmm, you smell goooood," she crooned in between sniffs.
"Stop! That tickles!" I told her, leaning away from her and trying unsuccessfully not to laugh. She leaned with me, continuing to sniff until she collapsed in a fit of giggles. I sat back up laughing and put my arm around her, giving her a squeeze.
"God, you're a freak," I said with a smile.
"Takes one to know one," she quipped back, sticking out her tongue.
"I know you are, but what…" I stopped abruptly as I saw a tall figure in a leather jacket watching us from the edge of the stands. My heart raced.
"He came," I said softly. Bella followed my gaze to where Jasper stood standing.
"Oh," she said with a small gasp of surprise. When he made no move to come closer and indeed looked as if he may leave instead, she said, "You go, Edward. I'll catch a ride with Alice if I need to."
I wasn't going to argue. I gave her a quick kiss on the cheek, saying, "Thanks, Bella," before making my way down the stands to where Jasper stood.
The past several weeks had been both thrilling and confusing. When I had encountered Jasper by the side of the road while I had been out running a few weekends ago, I had been one hundred percent certain that the powerful attraction I felt for him had been returned.
I had first seen him from a distance as he made his way through the trees at the edge of the forest, his movements powerful and graceful. Even though he was too far away for me to see his face, there was something about the way his body moved, so strong and sure, that was immediately recognizable to me. He waited by the side of the road, a solitary figure cloaked with an aura of danger. If it had been anyone else, anyone but the boy I was so inexplicably drawn to, I might have been afraid, seeing his imposing figure standing alone on a lightly traveled road near the edge of the woods. My heart rate increased as I neared him, but it wasn't from fear.
He practically glowed with energy and I felt that irresistible pull as I stood there panting and sweating from my run, trying to catch my breath. His hair was loose around his face, untamed and wild. We simply stared at each other, my eyes traveling over his muscled chest under his tight long sleeve tee, down his body to the unmistakable bulge in his pants. At the sight a surge of desire ripped through me and images of our bodies entwined, naked and thrusting, raced through my head. I raised my eyes to his face and saw his eyes darkened with desire, the gold so stunning against the pupils, black as night.
Jasper Whitlock wanted me.
He could damn well have me.
I took a step closer and my movements seemed to rouse him out of his lusty haze. His expression became shuttered as he took a small step back in response, keeping the distance between us. Disappointment washed over me and I was reminded of my attempt to hug him goodbye the first time I had stopped over at his house after school.
"Good morning, Edward," he said. God, I loved hearing him say my name. "Are you enjoying your run?"
My momentary disappointment was not enough to dampen the thrill I had gotten from the knowledge that this gorgeous creature found me desirable.
"Yes, I am," I responded. "The scenery's great along this route." I grinned at him, flirting outrageously and letting my eyes travel over his body in an obvious manner. I didn't care how corny my line sounded.
"It is indeed," he replied and those shutters briefly opened to reveal a twinkle in his eye before slamming tightly shut again into an impassive expression.
Not wanting to push things, but wanting to spend more time with him, I asked, "Would you like to run with me? I was about to turn around and head back towards town."
"I'd like that," he answered. I inwardly cheered as he agreed.
He matched his pace to mine and we ran side by side in companionable silence. Occasionally I'd slow down a bit and fall behind so I could stare at the muscles in his back as his arms pumped at his sides and watch the curve of his ass as his legs pounded the road. He was incredibly sexy. I could look at him all day. The tension that existed whenever I was around him only grew stronger as we moved together down the road. I wondered if he felt it too. I fantasized about ripping his shirt off and running my hands over his body, feeling those hard muscles under my fingertips, gripping his juicy ass in my hands. My dick started responding to my thoughts and I shook my head, telling myself to slow the fuck down or I'd be trying to run with a massive hard on. Still, it didn't hurt to look. The boy was fine.
I stopped when I reached the juncture in the road where I knew our paths would diverge. The Cullens lived on the far edge of town in the opposite direction from my own neighborhood. As we came to a stop, I leaned over, resting my hands on my knees for a minute, taking a few deep breaths. I stood up and wiped the sweat off my brow and turned towards Jasper, reluctant to see him go. I was amazed as I looked over at him; he looked like he hadn't even broken a sweat and wasn't the slightest bit out of breath. He appeared as energized and fresh as when I had first seen him this morning. God, he was gorgeous.
"Wow, you are in incredible shape," I told him. "You should think about joining the cross country team." I would love that. I'd get to see him at practices, meets, in the showers…
He shifted uncomfortably, looking nervous. He obviously wasn't keen on that idea.
"Or not," I said, trailing off. He still hadn't spoken.
I tried another suggestion. "Maybe you could come running with me again some morning."
"I'd like that," he said.
"Yeah?" I asked, a huge grin on my face.
"Yes," he answered with a small smile. We stood there on the side of the road, looking into each other's eyes. I knew I probably looked dopey, smiling and staring, but I didn't care. He wanted to spend more time with me outside of school and that made me practically fucking giddy. A car driving by broke our stare and I laughed a little in embarrassment.
"Well, I guess I should be getting home," I said, making no move to leave. He didn't seem to be in any hurry to go either.
"I guess," he repeated noncommittally.
We stood there a while longer, staring at each other, loathe to part. Monday seemed a long time away. I had some sudden inspiration.
"A group of us are going to Sequim to catch the game tonight. Do you want to ride over with me?"
I watched his face as he seemed to struggle with an answer, indecision marring his perfect features. "Tonight's not a good night," he finally answered.
"Oh, okay." I was disappointed beyond words. I didn't want to look at him and have him see just how rejected I felt when I heard his answer. I'm sure it was written all over my face.
We stood there in silence for another long moment. I heard his voice again, speaking hesitantly: "Would you like to come over tomorrow for another game of chess?"
I raised my head to look at him, another stupid wide grin splitting my face. "I'd love to."
"Good," he said. "Just stop by whenever you want. I'll be around all day."
I wonder how early he gets up in the morning, I thought to myself with amusement.
Knowing that I was going to see him the next day made it easier to go our separate ways. I replayed our interaction in my head over and over that night while at the game with the gang, barely paying attention to what was going on around me. That look in his eyes… his obvious arousal… I hadn't been mistaken, I was sure of it. Just thinking about it made my stomach do flips.
Over the next few weeks I was less sure. We had gotten together numerous times, and although there were moments when I had caught him staring at me and thought I saw that same look in his eyes, for the most part, he maintained that maddening impassive expression. I started to wonder if I had imagined it.
I, on the other hand, was anything but impassive. He had a powerful effect on me. I couldn't stop staring at him, wanting to touch him, be close to him, to smell him. I lived for the moments when our knees would bump under the chess table. I loved the times when he'd lean in towards me as we talked, his expression losing that controlled mask for a moment and revealing an intensity, a longing, that made my head spin and left me wondering if he was as affected by me as I was by him.
It seemed as if each time I broke through that impassive façade, the wall would slam down twice as fast and as hard as before.
During prep hour, I subtly tried to solicit information about Jasper from Alice. As usual, she was entirely too perceptive, but she seemed to approve of my interest in her brother.
"He likes you too, Edward. You're good for him," she told me. "I'm glad you're becoming friends."
When I tried to find out more about his life before he came to live with the Cullens, wondering what had happened to make him so wary and cautious, she was very evasive. "That's something you'll have to ask him about Edward," she told me. Her expression was troubled. "His life was… full of violence." I felt sick to my stomach as she spoke. "Just… please be patient with him."
I was reminded of Mr. Mistoffolees, the black cat that lived in the colony in the woods behind the Newton's store. Mrs. Newton had worked with a local shelter to trap the animals one by one. They had a program to spay and neuter the feral cats then afterwards they'd be released back out into the woods. The Newtons had taken to feeding the colony as it had stabilized to a recognizable group. Eventually, a few of the animals began to hang around the store, waiting for the food to be put down. Occasionally, they'd even let one of the Newtons pet them, or became brave enough to rub up against a leg.
Mr. Mistoffolees would come close the back door of the store, but when the food was brought out, he'd move just out of reach, waiting until the bowl was set down on the ground, only returning close when the human retreated. He was always on the periphery, watching and observing. The last holdout. After months of this behavior and of Mr. Newton studiously ignoring the skittish creature, Mr. Mistoffolees finally brushed up gently against Mr. Newton's leg one afternoon. Now the cat even allowed an occasional scratch behind the ears, but only by Mr. Newton and only very rarely.
If Alice said I should be patient, then patient I would be. That didn't stop me, however, from trying to draw him out, from inviting him to any group activities I and my friends had planned. I had sat with Bella this past Friday at this same football field, distracted and periodically scanning the crowd, hoping that he might show up. Bella noticed my lack of attention.
"Looking for someone?" she asked.
"Hmm?" I responded, noncommittally.
"I just noticed that you're not watching the game and you seem to be looking for someone. It wouldn't happen to be an insanely gorgeous, tall blonde Texan would it?"
Insanely gorgeous? Bella wasn't interested in him too, was she? Although why wouldn't she be. He was movie star good looking and certainly the hottest guy in Forks.
"Wait," I said. "You're not interested in Jasper, are you? Is he the guy you met over the summer?"
"Hardly," she scoffed. "I should hope I learned my lesson about that!"
I was confused. "What do you mean?" I asked.
"You know," she said elbowing me playfully. "The falling for unavailable guys lesson."
"Oh," I answered, deflated. "I didn't realize he was seeing someone." I felt overwhelmingly disappointed. I couldn't believe I had never even thought about that possibility. Of course a guy as smart and as good looking as he was seeing someone.
"Edward," she said in an exasperated tone. "That's not what I meant. I meant that I think you're more his type."
"Me?" I asked, hope returning. Bella was very observant. She had been the first one to figure out I was gay, after all.
"Yes, you," she said laughing. "I think Jasper has a thing for you."
"Really?" I asked excitedly. I started to ramble, letting it all pour out. "Because I could have sworn he was attracted to me, and God knows I'm attracted to him. He is so fucking hot. But then it seems like every time we get a little close, he pulls away and it's so confusing, and then I started to think that maybe I imagined it. So you think? Really?"
Bella was laughing at me. "Yes, really, Edward. He looks at you like you're something to eat."
"God, I wish," I said with a heartfelt sigh, feeling my dick twitch at even the suggestion.
My heart was lighter after that conversation. I would be patient and I wouldn't push, but I was not going to hide how I was feeling. Jasper would know for certain that I was interested in him and when he was ready, I'd be there waiting.
I had called him that weekend to go running with me again on Sunday morning and he agreed, meeting me at the same intersection from which we had parted last time. He was waiting when I ran up and I was gratified to see that that hungry look was back in his eyes. Now that Bella had reinforced the idea that Jasper was interested in me, I decided to not over-think things and just enjoy the times he dropped his mask and showed me how he felt. I'm sure he could see a similar look reflected back at him.
It was too difficult to talk while we were both running, but I didn't mind; I was happy to be spending time with him, just the two of us. I was completely aware of him every single second. Once again I slowed my pace so I could watch his body as he ran, his muscles rippling underneath his clothes. His physique was unreal. My own body couldn't help but respond to him.
After our run we made arrangements to meet after school again next week on afternoons I didn't have practice, and I went home, happy and excited. As I showered my mind was full of images of Jasper and I stroked myself to orgasm thinking of his strong back, his firm ass, those full and luscious lips. I wanted to feel them on my own lips; I wanted to feel them on my cock. I wanted to feel him.
Every chance I got, I observed Jasper carefully, wanting to know everything about him. I noticed that he hated to eat in front of people. He avoided physical contact with anyone but Alice. In fact they were very affectionate with each other, often holding each other's hand, or giving each other supportive hugs. Alice would also have no qualms about settling in Jasper's lap and putting her arms around his neck and resting her head on his shoulder. She was the sole recipient of his dazzling smiles. I envied how comfortable they were with each other and how he seemed to trust her implicitly. I was more determined than ever to be patient and allow Jasper to come to trust me as a friend too.
That he had shown up here tonight, at my invitation, sent a thrill through me. I hoped that meant I was making progress. I stopped in front of him after I made my way down the stands. "Hi Jasper," I said with a wide smile. "I'm really glad you decided to come. Do you want to sit with us?"
He looked up at Bella and she gave us a small wave from the bleachers. "I don't want to intrude," he said looking uncomfortable.
"It's not an intrusion," I assured him. "I invited you, after all." I added shyly, "I was hoping you'd show up." He searched my face
Just then the crowd let out a huge roar and people jumped to their feet. Jasper seemed to almost reel as he took a step backwards, shock on his face.
"Are you okay?" I asked.
He seemed a little embarrassed. "Yes, I'm fine. I was just startled. I…usually avoid crowds," he said.
"We could get out of here if you want. I don't need to see the game," I suggested. "Mike will be giving me a play by play later anyway."
"That sounds good, if you really don't mind. Do you want to come back to the house?"
"Sure," I replied. I was more than fine with hanging out with him one on one rather than being at a stadium full of people. I looked to find Bella again and when I caught her eye, signaled that we would be leaving. She gave me the okay sign with her fingers as Jasper and I headed for the parking lot.
I asked where his car was and he said Esme had dropped him off, so I directed him to my Volvo. Sitting so close to him in the small enclosed space of the car made me both nervous and excited. He smelled fantastic—somewhat spicy, a little woodsy with a touch of something sweet, maybe almonds. I thought about Bella jokingly sniffing my neck earlier and I wished that I could lean in and do the same to Jasper. Instead I settled for taking a deep lungful, enjoying his scent.
We didn't talk much on the drive over. When we arrived at his house, I was surprised to see the two figures seated in the living room.
"Edward!" Emmett roared. "How've you been?"
"Doing fine. It's good to see you, Emmett! How's college?"
"College is great. We missed everyone, though, so Rosalie and I thought we'd come home for the weekend."
I looked over to acknowledge Rosalie sitting on the couch next to him. "Rosalie," I said, nodding.
"Masen," she said in that familiar slightly bitchy tone.
Jasper, probably sensing the frost in the air, said to me, "C'mon. We can hang out in my room."
My stomach did a little flip flop. I turned and followed Jasper from the room.
"Catch you later, guys," I said to Emmett and Rosalie.
As we started up the stairs I heard Rosalie whisper loudly to Emmett, "What is he doing here?"
I rolled my eyes. Same old Rosalie.
When we got to the top of the stairs Jasper turned to me, looking apologetic. "I'm sorry about that."
I reassured him, "Oh, don't worry about it. She's never liked me. It doesn't bother me."
"Still," he responded, "you're my guest."
"Really, Jasper. Don't worry about it," I insisted.
He searched my face for a moment then nodded, saying, "My room is this way."
He led me to a room at the end of the hall. The back wall immediately drew my eyes. It was almost all glass, with large windows looking out over the trees beyond. In front of it sat a black leather sofa and a low table with a few books lying on top. The wall to the right was completely covered with shelves from floor to ceiling, every single one filled to the brim with books. The opposite wall housed a large bed covered with several pillows and a handmade quilt.
"Wow," I said looking around. "You have a ton of books." I inwardly cringed at how stupid I must have sounded. Way to state the obvious, Edward.
Jasper watched me take it all in.
I wandered over to the shelves to check out the titles. They were predominately filled with two types of books: history books and poetry.
"Have you read all these?" I asked incredulously.
"Not all of them. A lot of them. Some are Carlisle's."
"History's always been my worst subject," I admitted. "I find it kind of boring. All those dates to remember."
"History shouldn't be about memorizing dates. It should be stories about the people and their passions."
"I guess I never really thought about it like that."
"Take war, for example. Many were about people, like you, having something in their lives important enough to die for."
He continued on, "Numerous wars have been fought in the name of religion. I know many people today think that idea of fighting—killing people—over religion is barbaric and primitive, but humans were no different during the Crusades than they are today. They're still motivated by the same drives, the same passions, the same hopes and dreams. Religious wars are certainly not a thing of the past."
I loved it when he let his guard down to talk about subjects he liked.
He came closer to me as he spoke. "Wars have been fought for less glorious causes—control of resources, territorial disputes, power, simple intolerance. Scholars and philosophers have argued for centuries over what makes a war 'just,' if there can even be such a thing. And soldiers weren't always men taking a stand for something noble. Many were mercenaries, or joined the military out of civic obligation, or as simply a job to earn money to feed their families. It's easy to judge the past through the lens of the future; it's harder to understand the heart of a man who acts in ways that are foreign to today's values. But even he must have had his reasons. It must have meant something, even if his choices were not ones we would choose to make today."
I had never heard anyone our age talk like him. My parents and their friends, maybe, as they sat around the dinner table arguing about politics. He was almost magnetic as he expressed his views. I found him endlessly fascinating.
"When you put it like that, it's doesn't sound boring at all," I told him.
I wasn't done with my exploring. I walked over to the table to look at the books he had laid out there.
"What are you reading now?" I asked.
"Some poetry," he answered. "Wilfred Owen, William Blake."
"I saw all the poetry books," I said, nodding my head back towards the shelves. "Bella would love your collection."
"She likes poetry?"
"Mmm hmm," I answered absently, picking up the Owen book and leafing through it. I read through a few of the poems. They were obviously about war, but they seemed almost at odds with the conversation we had just had.
"Sometimes when I struggle for answers, I find that poetry speaks to deeper truths," he said, as if answering my unspoken thoughts.
"Will you read one to me?" I asked. I loved the sound of his voice. I wanted to hear that southern drawl sliding over the words on the page.
He slid the book gently out of my hands. "Not the Owen. Not for you. But the Blake..."
He picked up the other book from the table, but didn't open it. Instead he started to speak in a low smooth voice.
"Little Lamb, who made thee?
Dost thou know who made thee?
Gave thee life, and bid thee feed,
By the stream and o'er the mead;
Gave thee clothing of delight,
Softest clothing, woolly, bright;
Gave thee such a tender voice,
Making all the vales rejoice?
Little Lamb, who made thee?
Dost thou know who made thee?"
"I recognize that one," I said when he paused. "Songs of Innocence, right?"
"Yes."
"Will you read me another one? Something longer, maybe?" I asked, wanting time to revel in the sound of his voice.
"If you like," he responded. I nodded. "Did you want to sit?" he asked, motioning to the leather couch in front of us.
I sat at one end and lifted my knee onto the cushion, hooking my foot underneath my other knee, so I could face him as he took a seat at the opposite end. He mirrored my pose and flipped through the book, stopping at a page and beginning to speak.
"To see a World in a Grain of Sand
And a Heaven in a Wild Flower
Hold Infinity in the palm of your hand
And Eternity in an hour," he began.
I recognized the beginnings of Auguries of Innocence, and not just because Mike had made me watch the Tomb Raider movie at least a dozen times, but from actually having read it in my English class. Suddenly, it was infinitely more interesting than when my teacher had discussed it with us last year. I settled in, watching his face as he recited the paradoxical lines, letting the smooth sound of his voice wash over me.
I almost began to tune out the actual words, finding myself lost in the cadence of his speech. I enjoyed the opportunity to study him in detail as his eyes remained on the page. His hands were strong yet elegant. His lips were supple and full. I was mesmerized watching them move as he spoke. As had happened with increasing frequency lately, I found myself wondering what those lips would feel like pressed against mine. We were so close on this couch, alone up in his bedroom. How would he react if I simply leaned over to kiss him, just took a chance and went for it? Would he kiss me back? Would he press me back against the arm rest of the couch, his body leaning over mine? Would he grind up against me and run his hands over my body?
As if he could sense my thoughts, he lifted his eyes from the page. They were dark and penetrating. He looked me directly in the eye as he recited the next few lines:
"Some are Born to sweet delight
Some are Born to sweet delight
Some are Born to Endless Night."
His expression was so serious; I got the feeling he was warning me away. Maybe now wasn't the time. Maybe he wasn't ready for that, although I knew I completely was. I could be patient, as Alice had suggested. And in the meantime, that didn't mean I couldn't dream about his lips on mine, his hands on my skin.
He put the book back on the table as he finished the poem and stared at me, his eyes still dark. He was so sexy, it was unreal. I missed the sound of his voice already.
"Tell me about Texas," I asked, wanting to keep him talking.
"What would you like to know?" he asked in response.
"Anything," I answered, meaning it. I wanted to know anything and everything about him. Whatever he wanted to share about his life, I would eagerly be listening.
He told me about the magnolia tree that grew outside the kitchen window of a home he lived in when he was a boy. He spoke of the summer heat and the sun bright and hot, so different from Forks and the Olympic Peninsula. I told him about playing in the tide pools as a child and learning to fish with my Dad. He told me very little about actual events or details of his life; instead, I learned what he thought about different topics, how he felt about things. Each subject merged easily into another and before we knew it, hours had passed.
I didn't want the night to end. He had been so open with me, and I felt I could talk about anything with him. We were definitely growing closer and even though I didn't know his past, didn't know what brought him here, what events had made him the way he was, I still felt that I was beginning to know him. I was afraid that once I left, the next time I saw him he would be closed and guarded again.
Reluctantly, I spoke: "I need to go. My mom will get worried if I'm not home soon."
I knew I wasn't imagining the look of disappointment on his face. "Okay." He hesitated then added, "I'm glad you came over. It was… nice."
"It was. Nice," I replied, grinning, thinking that was the understatement of the year.
I didn't want to leave without a definite plan in place for the next time I could see him. "Would you like to meet me for another run Sunday morning?" I asked.
"I'd like that," he said, and I got the customary thrill hearing him agree to spend time with me. We confirmed the details as we walked down the stairs to the front door.
Once again I had the urge to kiss him, to just reach over and grab the back of his neck, pulling him to my face and pressing my lips against his. We were standing close and I could feel that crazy pull, stronger than ever. It was all I could do to stand there without acting on it. I had never felt such a strong attraction to anyone or anything.
"Well," I said, swallowing heavily, trying to control my urges, "Goodnight Jasper."
His eyes were so dark and I could see the emotions swirling in their depths, his impassive mask nowhere to be seen.
He reached his hand up towards my face and I felt my heart immediately race in anticipation of his touch as I held my breath.
Before his hand reached my skin, however, he dropped it to his side and took a small step back from me. "Goodnight, Edward," he said softly.
Sunday morning I left my house almost twenty minutes early to jog to our meeting spot. As I rounded the corner, I saw a tall figure already waiting at the intersection. I couldn't stop the wide smile from forming on my face. God, he looked good.
"Good morning, Edward," he said with a small smile as I stopped in front of him.
"Good morning," I replied, still grinning. I should be used to my reaction upon seeing him by now, but each time I was with him after any absence at all, I was again awed by his beauty, his magnificent presence. My heart would pound and my breath would catch and I'd feel like the luckiest guy in the world that he was here to spend time with me.
"You ready?" he asked.
"Yeah, let's go," I answered, heading out of town in the direction we usually took.
After we ran for a while I noticed the sky was beginning to darken and large clouds were forming in the distance.
"I think we should head back," I said. "That looks like it could get nasty."
Jasper agreed as we reversed our direction and started heading back towards town.
The sky grew darker and we could hear the rumblings of thunder in the distance. I looked back behind us and the clouds appeared to be rolling towards us at an alarming speed.
"I don't think we're going to make it home before it hits," I said, as raindrops started to hit my face. "We should head to my house; it's closer."
Jasper agreed and we picked up our pace as we tried to outrun the storm. When we were about a block away from my house, our luck ran out and we were drenched in a torrential downpour. It was as if huge buckets of cold water were being dumped directly over our heads. In seconds we were soaked to the skin.
"Run!" I yelled over the noise of the storm and I sprinted as fast as I could to the front door, yanking it open and hurrying inside, Jasper right behind me. We stood in the foyer, just dripping with water, huge puddles forming at our feet. I looked at Jasper, at his hair matted to his head, rivulets of water pouring down his face, his clothes soaked through and clinging to his body. Fueled by the adrenaline of our mad dash and struck by the ridiculousness of the situation, I burst out into peals of laughter.
Jasper, seeing my mirth, broke out into a dazzling smile and soon he was laughing too. The sound, one I had never heard from him before, was like music. His face was radiant, golden eyes dancing, deep dimples creasing his cheeks. I had never seen nor heard anything more beautiful in my life.
The impulse I had tamped down time and time again these past few weeks came rushing to the surface. Caught up in the exuberance of the moment, enraptured by his glowing visage, captivated by the sight of his wet clothing clinging to his body, revealing every muscular curve and line, I could no longer push it aside; I didn't want to.
My entire body strummed with anticipation as I reached one hand to the back of his neck and placed the other on his shoulder, pulling him closer as I leaned up to touch my lips to his. That electrical shock that had shot through me when we first had touched pulsed rapidly through my entire body, setting a fire blazing across my skin. I moved my lips against his mouth, and was consumed by a heady desire, drunk with the feel of his firm lips against mine, his hard muscles under my hands, his delicious scent filling my lungs. I was kissing Jasper and it was the most amazing moment of my entire life.
I felt him stiffen almost immediately, frozen in surprise at my action. I pulled away from him, too full of joy to be overly concerned at his not unexpected reaction. He stared at me in shock, his eyes darkened and full of emotion.
"What are you doing, Edward?" he whispered.
"Making the first move," I answered in a breathy voice, as I leaned in to kiss him again, my heart pounding in my chest.
As our lips touched, I became hyper aware of every sensation—the soft and smooth feel of his mouth, the firm and supple texture of the cool skin under my fingers, his spicy-sweet woodsy scent. I wanted to stay trapped in that moment forever, drowning in happiness and Jasper and the taste of honey on my lips. I pulled back again, smiling, and still he stood, completely immobile, as if he'd turned to stone. It was then that I noticed I had started to shiver and that Jasper's skin was ice cold under my hand.
"Geez, you're freezing!" I exclaimed in concern. "C'mon. We need to get you out of those wet clothes and warmed up." I grabbed his hand in mine and started pulling him towards the stairs. He followed obediently, not saying a word. We left a trail of water behind us as we made our way to the second floor.
I led him to my bathroom and turned the water on in the shower, adjusting the temperature until it was hot and steamy.
"Here you go," I said, grabbing a towel from the linen cabinet and placing it over the nearby hook. Just throw those clothes on the floor and I'll get you something to wear. You can change in my bedroom when you're done. I'll use the bathroom down the hall."
He nodded without speaking and I left him alone. I went back to my bedroom and pulled out a pair of sweats, a tee for underneath, some socks, and a pair of boxers. I left them on the bed for Jasper to put on when he was done. After grabbing some clothes for myself, I went down the hall to the guest bath to take my own shower.
I tried not to think about Jasper being naked and wet just down the hall as I soaped my skin and let the hot water warm me, but of course that was impossible. I hurried through my shower, so I wouldn't be tempted to jack off. Even so, I could barely keep the grin off my face as I thought about the feel of his lips under mine. He hadn't exactly kissed me back, but he hadn't pushed me away either. I wondered how he'd react if I did it again.
Once I was dressed, I grabbed my wet clothes from the floor and took them down to the laundry room. I headed back up the stairs to get Jasper's from my bathroom floor. When I opened the door to my bedroom, it was now me who was frozen in shock. Jasper stood clad only in a towel draped low across his hips, his impressive physique on display for my ravenous eyes. His hair was in damp tendrils around his face, as if it had been hastily rubbed with a towel. His shoulders were broad and strong, the planes of his chest smooth and defined, the muscles of his abdomen rock hard, his long legs and arms beautifully formed. The desire that I felt for him flared to life, bright and hot. I wanted to run my hands over his body, down his stomach, tracing the trail of hair that disappeared under the terry cloth fabric. I wanted to lick his chest and run my tongue over his nipples. I wanted to feel him, skin against skin, pressed hard against me.
What stopped me, however, was something else that was revealed now that I was seeing him without a shirt for the first time. His torso, his shoulders, his arms were completely covered in scars, faint but evident, in half moon shapes, criss-crossing his skin like a lattice of pain. He was literally covered in them. I now understood why he was excused from gym and wouldn't join any organized sports.
"Jasper, what happened to you?" I gasped in a shocked voice.
He didn't answer, but stood still, watching me warily as my eyes traveled over his body. I walked slowly towards him, taking his hand and gently tugging him down to sit on the bed next to the clothes I had laid out for him. I lifted my finger and traced the line of one the scars on his chest. When he didn't protest, I continued tracing more of the faint lines that covered his body, taking inventory of his pain. I couldn't image what he must have gone through, how many hours, days, weeks, even years of suffering he must have endured to receive such lasting marks. My heart ached for him.
I felt my throat tighten at even the thought of his pain and I hastily shut my eyes to prevent tears from escaping. I was overwhelmed with emotion and leaned over to place my lips against one of the scars on his shoulder.
He immediately stiffened, holding completely still, not even breathing, as my lips touched his skin, warm and damp from his shower. But he didn't pull away. I gently lifted his arm and pressed more kisses down his bicep across the web of scars that decorated his body then moved behind him on the bed to continue my actions across his strong wide back, as if my lips could take away the pain of his past. I placed more kisses down his other arm as I came back around him to sit at the edge of the bed next to him. I reached my hand up to touch his face and turn it gently toward me. I leaned in, whispering, "Jasper," as I pressed my lips gently against his mouth.
"Don't," he choked out in a strangled whisper, and my heart clenched. I pulled away and saw that his eyes were tightly closed. I rested my forehead against his, dropping my hand to his shoulder then leaned back after a moment, my hand sliding down his arm as I took his hand in mine. He opened his eyes and I was drowning in a maelstrom of emotion, his turmoil and conflict evident on his face.
"Jasper, I won't ever hurt you," I whispered to him in a low earnest voice, hoping he could hear the sincerity of my words. He was swallowing rapidly and a panicked expression was rapidly forming on his features.
Just then I heard the door downstairs opening and my mom calling, "Edward, I'm home." I stood, separating myself from Jasper, giving him some room to collect himself. Patient. I needed to be patient.
I had felt his hand beginning to chill again as I held it, so I said, "You're starting to get cold again. Why don't you get dressed and come downstairs. I'll introduce you to my mom. I'll just take your clothes down to put in the wash."
He nodded and I left the room.
A few minutes later I was introducing him to my mom in the kitchen, Jasper charming her with his smooth southern voice and his "How do you do, ma'am." They chatted for a few minutes, Mom asking him about school and his parents and siblings.
"Would you like to stay for lunch, Jasper?" she asked next.
"Thank you, but I need to get home. I have some homework to finish up before school tomorrow."
"I'll drive you," I told him and we said our goodbyes and headed out to the car.
We didn't speak the entire drive and I was nervous, wondering if I had ruined things with my impulsive actions today. When we pulled up to the house, I put the car in park and turned towards him.
"Jasper, I'm sorry if I made you uncomfortable today. I just… really like you," I admitted lamely.
He turned towards me, staring at me with that impassive expression I was coming to know so well. Then his face broke out into another one of his dazzling smiles; he reached over to pull my face towards his and he kissed me hard and fast, in a burst of passion that sent a flush to my face and my heart racing.
He leaned back, reaching for the door handle and said with a smile, "I like you too, Edward," and then he was gone, while I sat there stunned, a stupid grin breaking out over my face.
Chapter 11 | Masterpost | Poetry
Tags:
