Previously posted as part of a Multifandom Drabble Collection.
Requester: integrand
Fandom: Twilight
Pairing: Jacob/Jasper
Word/Situation: Only that it must involve tattoos and scars!
Approximate Timeline: Post Eclipse
Title: Ink-Stained
Author: Winter Ashby (rosweldrmr)
Disclaimer: Twilight © Stephanie Meyers
Rating: M
Summary: All anger, and hate, and wild inhibition. (Jacob/Jasper)
Authors Notes: Done at pinkceptional's TWILIGHT UNCANON DRABBLE REQUEST MEME at LJ
All teeth and lips and nails and hair. All anger, and hate, and wild inhibition.
Jasper didn't have to worry about who was worried or trying to keep everyone calm. This was uncensored, unrestrained, unhindered emotion.
Raw, and real. It cut at him, like Jacob's teeth digging into his neck. And, Oh, what a nice thing it was, to be the prey.
He let Jacob's rage pool, let him fester with it, watched him explode with it. It would be a crime to try and rob him of it.
It's was drew him to the wolf. He was made of volatile emotions. He was untamed. He was someone Jasper would never win with. He never quite understood what drew Jacob to these clandestine meetings. Maybe it was like victory. To dominate him, to force a vampire into submission, to not have to hold back.
He took all his hatred and poured it into Jasper. And he let him. It was good, not to have to pretend to be okay, not to pretend that he wasn't haunted, and tortured, and dying to just tear something apart.
The scars that didn't show on his marble skin still existed on another level. Not a soul, it was far to disconcerting to think he still had one of those. But in a place where eyesight couldn't reach, and time couldn't heal, the scars of a life and death, and life-after-death that Jasper always wished he could forget ' .
They fought, with lips and skin and hands.
Jasper fought to forget, to erase, to prove he wasn't human.
Jacob fought because it was the only battle he could win.
Take what you can get.
He dug his fingers into the soft flesh of Jacob's thigh. Strained and desperate, he always reached for the same spot. It was the tattoo of a tribal wolf.
Jasper loved the pain of it, ink staining russet skin, the way he imagined these trysts stained his soul – his almost-human, too-good-to-ever-love-you soul. Jasper liked to think that he left a smudge, a dribbling of darkness, like a tattoo on the wolf-boy.