I began the first chapter of this story a few years ago. The song 'Moves Like Jagger' by Maroon 5 inspired it. But I don't have much time to write and didn't want to start another fic, until a few days ago when I heard 'Just Dance' by Lady Gaga and the need to write this fic came rushing back. The scene between Edward and Jasper from the end of ch.1 through ch.2 wouldn't leave me alone.

I am also continuing to work on Sometimes. And I'll eventually try to finish up my short fics. For now, this story owns me, as do my Sometimes boys. I hope you guys like it.

The theme songs for this fic are 'Sugar' and 'Moves Like Jagger' by Maroon 5, and 'Not a Bad Thing' by Justin Timberlake.

Can't wait for you to meet these two… mostly Jasper this first chapter, but the second chapter will be up in the next few days.

Disclaimer - I don't own anything Twilight. This is Slash.

Cry Wolf –

ch. 1 – Baa Baa Black Sheep

Jpov - (Jasper's songs for now… Come Undone by My Darkest Days, Use Somebody by Kings of Leon, and Stop and Stare by OneRepublic)

Jpov

It feels like a lifetime since I last felt another's touch - since I've experienced physical contact besides the squeeze of my own calloused hand. In reality, it's barely been five months, but that's far too fucking long in my book. The last time I got laid was before my last project began, and I haven't had so much as a quickie in the back room of a club since. That last experience did me in. For some reason, when I awoke alone in my bed yet again, something inside of me snapped. I decided I couldn't do it anymore. I wouldn't.

I'd picked up a pretty little blond the night before, one of which I actually felt an inkling of a connection with for a change. Apparently, he didn't feel one with me - besides of the physical sort, of course. It hurt like hell in the light of day when he was gone as if he'd never been in my bed to begin with - more than it had the time before, which was more than the time before that.

What should I expect, moving from city to city like I do? I don't deserve anything more. But one night stands no longer work for me. I don't have room in my life for a relationship, nor do I have the heart, so then why do I need more than nameless many? I don't have the right to want more, let alone to need more, but I do.

After much time spent contemplating how to compromise what I want and what I need with a plausible solution, I've come to a conclusion on the subject. I've decided I need a fuck-buddy. Maybe, just maybe, a friend-with-benefits will quell this annoying yearning for consistency that taunts me so. From deep within my psyche, or maybe from somewhere inside my skittish heart – the unwanted longing for the ridiculous 'more' rears its ugly head. Wherever the little fucker comes from, it won't shut-up. So… a no strings attached 'one' someone to spend repeated times with will have to do since I'm most definitively not boyfriend material. I wasn't then and I'm not now. I may never be.

I'm aware of the draw backs of this detached intimacy I seek. Quite frankly, such an arrangement scares the hell out of me. For instance, it will be necessary to reach a level of trust with this someone by becoming friends first, before the friends-with-benefits relationship can take form. I'll have to place faith in this person to not use me and leave me. I'll need to actually date him, whoever he is – get to know him well enough to establish some ground rules. And once we finally get to the good stuff - the fucking, the regularly scheduled fucking – I will never, under any circumstances, allow my special friend to spend the night. No drifting off into sweet slumber with a warm body next to mine. And most certainly, never ever, can I allow cuddling or pillow talk to occur after he's spent and I'm spent because the fucking his brains out is over. No, no – nuh, uh. And last but certainly not least, if whoever 'he' may be leaves when I'm done with his body never to be heard from again, despite my efforts to prevent it? Well then, I will not allow myself to feel rejected, nor dejected.

I won't allow myself to feel. Anything. Period.

I'm scared. I had a similar arrangement once, and it didn't end well. I did not end it well. I was young and stupid and terrified. I've matured since then. I think I'm ready to try again. I know better what to do. What not to do. Not to get attached. Not to get involved. And definitely not to allow myself to fall in love.

San Francisco seems like the perfect location to find the un-relationship I seek. I'll be here for the next six months, atleast. My newest project will take that long, if not longer. Atlanta was nice, real nice; as were Kansas City and Jacksonville and Cleveland before that. The list goes on and on. Fifteen cities in the six years since I left home, when I inadvertently started my building restoration company. I stumbled into it, really.

Who knew hard work and attention to detail mixed in with a good dose of natural born talent would pay off so well. That it would lead me to where I am now, the co-owner of a lucrative business at the ripe old age of twenty-four. My partner is none other than my Uncle Aro, the black sheep of the family. He buys old buildings, I restore them, and we split the profit. It's worked perfectly so far, and it's kept me on the road, where I want to be. It's also led me to follow in Uncle Aro's footsteps in the black sheep department. I'm no longer my parents dream come true, but instead their disappointment of a son who decided to be gay, and to leave town, to never come back. I damned near took Uncle Aro's place as the head black sheep as far as my parents are concerned. Ah, hell… I never wanted to be a black sheep. I don't even like animals, especially of the farm variety. I just want to live my life free to be me. If I want to fuck pretty boys or burly men without shame or consequence, I will do so with pride and conviction.

Thank god I stay so busy all the time.

Too busy to think about the confused boy I used to be or the lonely man I've become.

I left Forks the day I graduated from high school and haven't looked back. I've lost touch with everyone from my previous life - my parents, my best friend, my first love – though I didn't know Alec was my first love at the time. Or maybe I did, but just couldn't admit it.

My best friend Emmett and I were inseparable growing up. But he didn't take too well to the truth, once he stumbled upon it. I hadn't worked up the nerve to tell him; I hid it from him like I hid it from everyone else. Unfortunately, it dawned on him in a too bright and blinding sort of way when he found me and Alec in the old tree house. His tree house, really… seeing as it was on Em's property. But it had been ours, his and mine, when we were kids. We'd visited it less and less over the years, and I was desperate for a place to take Alec that night. I'd used it before, but I should have known better. Emmett found us. And all of a sudden as far as he was concerned his best friend whom he'd bunked with at summer camp, shared a locker room with through the years of football, and stayed over at one another's houses more often than not - was gay. Only, gay wasn't the term he used as he yelled and cussed me out that night. No, gay wasn't what he called me. I wouldn't have minded 'gay' - I mean, it was the truth. But I couldn't forgive the terms he did use, the slurs he spit at me and Alec with contempt and fury in his eyes. My worst nightmare come true.

I'd lied to him for years and the fact that I was gay disgusted him. I've not talked to him since I stood tall and proud against his judging glare. I pulled my jeans up with my head held high and waited for Alec to do the same. We descended the ladder without looking back. I took Alec home and told him I'd see him at graduation. Though my heart hurt from the depth of Emmett's rejection, I simultaneously felt relieved. My secret was out. Maybe I could finally begin living my life. Maybe I could start being myself.

I imagined approaching Alec at graduation the next day, and for once, not hiding the effect he always had on me - not avoiding him in public for fear others would see the truth about us. Only, I never made it to graduation. When I got home, Emmet had been there and told my parents of his discovery. They didn't take the news about my sexual preference much better than Em did. So, instead of attending graduation, I left town. My heart was breaking and I was simultaneously seeing red. Still, it wasn't my finest moment, for sure. I should have stayed and worked things out with them, but I knew how my father had always felt about his brother's, Uncle Aro's, life style. Things could never be the same between my parents and myself, and that pissed me off. Who were they to judge me? The fact that I'm attracted to boys instead of girls did not change anything. I was still their son, the same son I'd always been. They should've stuck up for me. Instead, they waited for me to arrive home with accusing glares and disappointed words.

Forks is but a memory. Emmett and my parents and Alec are, too. It's how it has to be.

San Francisco suits me for more than just the obvious reason. This city is alive with hope and tranquility. It gets me and I get it. I'd even go so far as to call it my home, considering it's where Volturi Real Estate is located, and for the time being, Whitlock Renovations is, too. I visit here often, but usually only take jobs across the country, in far off distant lands, as far away from that little town in Washington as possible. Aro understands. He's gone along with my need to move around and stay away. Until recently, when he talked me into our newest project, more like begged me to stay in town until its completion. We'll transform an old warehouse into a museum. It's our biggest project to date and will require me to stay in one place longer than I have since commencing my wandering life.

Uncle Aro won't admit it, but I know his true motive. He simply wants me around. I'm his only family who actually talks to him. He's getting older and he needs me, his nephew, in his life on a daily basis. He's done so much for me, it's the least I can do. But when this job is done, I'll hit the road, again.

I've rented an apartment in the heart of the city. Bunking with Uncle Aro won't do for an extended stay such as this, even though he has an amazing 5,000 square foot townhouse. I need to be able to walk around naked and bed down my new friend whenever and however I choose. And the compromising situations I've discovered my uncle in on occasion…? Um, yeah. Let's just say it's something I don't think I can deal with on a daily basis. Who knew he'd be such a power bottom! Good god!

Fully furnished in modern hues of light grey, charcoal, and white, my apartment offers an abundant array of surfaces to fuck on. And I can't wait to try every one. This is the longest I've gone without laying some serious pipe since I was sixteen years old. And that's saying allot considering I had to sneak around in high school. There were a couple other gay boys at my school and I had a knack for sniffing them out. Somehow, I made it through junior and senior year, flying under the radar as the captain of the football team, with a girl on my arm every now and again for show. But I never so much as kissed any of the girls I dated. Instead, I fucked Riley, a drummer in the marching band, every few weeks. By senior year I was hooking up with Alec, the pitcher of the baseball team. Though, he never pitched when we were alone. He was my perfect catcher; his body seemed specially made to receive mine just right. We taught one another so many things, and no one ever suspected, until we slipped up the night before graduation when Emmett discovered us.

It's taken me years to admit it, but I've finally come to accept that I loved Alec. He was such a sweet kid. We were young and confused - just trying to figure out our sexuality while hiding our true selves from everyone else but each other. And I was a jerk. I kept him at arm's length, and continued to fuck Riley on occasion, to keep my feelings for Alec in check. I see that now.

Riley was an asshole. He insisted I do the catching when we fucked, so I did, though to this day I don't enjoy it nearly as much as topping. I took everything Riley gave, searching him out to fuck me good and hard whenever I felt my feelings for Alec growing too strong, too intense. I couldn't deal with being in love with a boy when there wasn't anything I could really do about it. I couldn't treat him right. I couldn't show him affection or let everyone know he was my boyfriend though it was the natural thing to do. So I sabotaged it from becoming everything it could be. And then I left without a word. God, I was so fucked up.

I still am. I have nightmares of how Alec must've felt after I left town, after I left him. What his face might have looked like while he searched the crowd for me at graduation, and after, when he realized I wasn't coming. We never had a chance to talk about what happened with Emmett. I never told him how much he meant to me. It continues to haunt me if I let it, so I force it down deep into my subconscious. But I can't fight the memories and what ifs when I'm asleep. So I don't sleep well or much. I stay busy and keep my mind occupied with blueprints and designs. I keep myself closed off from others, from emotions for others.

I don't blame my temporary lovers for leaving as quickly as they do. I know they know. From the first intoxicating yet detached taste of my lips, from the way I never look them in the eye while I fuck them to the brink and back again, never… they know. I'm emotionally unavailable, a lost cause.

My last hope is this no-strings-attached though consistent sexual relationship I've become obsessed with finding. And I've decided to start looking, tonight. Sure, I've barely unpacked. Boxes sit in every room of my otherwise spotless loft style apartment. 'Bathroom Essentials', 'Pots and Pans', 'DVDs', etc. - sit awaiting for me to put them in their places. I certainly can't have company yet, but isn't that the point? There won't be a need to entertain my new friend, if I stick with the plan, pick wisely, and get to know this new someone, first.

Dressed in my well-worn dark washed jeans… the ones that hug every muscle in my ass and thighs just right, and a deep blue tight t-shirt which shows of the muscles in my upper body just as well – I saunter up to the bar of my favorite club. My dark-blondish waves are perfectly out of place. I dip my head, encouraging them to fall in my face before looking up at the gorgeous bartender through my thick eyelashes. He's always here. It's been months since my last brief visit to San Francisco, but here he still is now - like he was then.

He visibly gulps when I catch his eye, obviously happy to see me. Smiling brightly, without breaking eye contact, he reaches down into his magic case of beer and then hands me a bud-light. I don't know how he does that, though I'm not surprised he remembers my beer of choice. He seems to know what everyone drinks. The kid must have a photographic memory.

I've been to Atlantis allot, almost every night when visiting Uncle Aro and my favorite city. Aro usually accompanies me, but not tonight. I need to do this alone.

Something has always held me back from pursuing the undeniable attraction I feel for this gorgeous, obviously American Indian bartender who is still staring back at me like I'm a big juicy steak. He's buff and sexy as hell, taller than me, with long midnight hair I'd love nothing else than to grasp in my fist and pull while fucking him from behind.

"Jake, you look amazing, as always."

His eyes glass over and he bites his bottom lip while looking at mine. Maybe he'd be interested in the special arrangement I seek? I'll have to think on that further. I'd hate to turn a harmless flirtation with the bartender of the club I'll be frequenting often into and an awkward situation. Or I could give the poor kid what he so desperately craves… a piece of me. But they all look at me like that, and then leave when I've filled them up. So, no. I won't be fucking Jake tonight, though my dick strongly disagrees.

We chat a little and flirt allot before I push off the bar with a wink.

The boys are already writhing around seductively on the ocean themed dance floor. Varying shades of blue and green glow from above. The image of waves shines from below. It's quite breath-taking. The rest of the club is full of soft curving lines, decorated in aqua and sea green. The sounds of waves and ocean noises can be heard in areas of the club where the loud seductive beats of dance music don't drown them out.

The balcony overlooking the dance floor calls to me as it always does. I love the view from up there; I slowly make my way toward the stairs. The cushy aqua couches are occupied with partying groups of friends here and there, or couples in various states of making-out. My dick likes what I see. I don't attempt to hide the heat I'm packing, drawing blatant stares to my groin as I top the stairs.

That's right boys... I'm hung and know how to use it.

I reign myself in, reminding myself of my plan. I don't want to take a stranger home tonight. In actuality, I'd love nothing better than to let loose on one of these sexy boys, but I won't. I'll look, instead, for a different kind of bottom. One who isn't so obviously offering it to the first taker. One who looks as if he'd appreciate a repeated slow burn, instead. The problem is, I don't know what such a boy looks like.

An hour and a number of shots later, I continue to eye fuck a candidate or two, but mostly I just stand here watching the erotic scene below. Most of the boys have taken their shirts off. One group is especially entertaining to watch. I can't for the life of me pinpoint exactly who's with who. Or maybe they'll all leave here together and an orgy will ensue. I certainly hope so.

Then there's that couple on the edge of the dance floor who keeps drawing my attention, and it seriously pisses me off. They've been dancing closely, slowly, and sensually this entire time. Sharing languid kisses. Whispering sweet nothings when they drag their lips from one another. The manner in which they protectively covet the other is especially bothersome. It's as if each one is an invaluable treasure to the other. They only have eyes for each other, hell… they obviously fucking complete each other. It's unnerving, and to be quite honest, utterly inappropriate for this setting. With all the blatant groping and grinding and damn near actual sex almost taking place on the dance floor, this is the couple I want to scream at, "Get a fucking room!"

What the hell? I don't need to see that shit.

It's… it's… it's fucking beautiful. They are. And I want what they have. I most certainly did not come here to be reminded of what I want but can't have.

Alcohol makes me irrational. I know this. And I'm quickly making my way towards drunk. I should stop myself from asking the offending couple to leave, but I don't know if I can keep from doing exactly that.

I just might, until I notice a gorgeous creature in the middle of the dance floor. He wasn't there a minute ago, but he sure as hell is now.

I can't see his face, but damn, the boy knows how to move. Out there by himself, he seems completely overcome by the music, swaying his hips to the beat as if it resonates from within his body. I've never seen him here before, but there's something about him that seems familiar. All I can think about is my unexplainable, irrational need to get closer to him. I feel drawn to him, as if the universe is pushing me, pulling me to close the distance between us. I can't explain it, but I can't shake an unfamiliar feeling spreading through me, taking root somewhere deep inside… that the beautiful boy down there, dancing alone and free – will change my life. Everything about my life is about to change.

Please pretty please review and let me know what you think? Any ideas as to who the mysterious dancing stranger is, or how Jasper might already know him?

Ch.2 up tonight, hopefully. And the next chapter of Sometimes soon after that.