Disclaimer: Stephenie Meyer is the original creator and owner of these characters. No copyright infringement is intended by me making them do mean and naughty things. One shot based on lyrics by Nine Inch Nails.

Word Count: 2514

Rating: MA/NC-17

Content Warning: Slash lemons … and, well, slashing (just as body fluid inducing, though usually of the messier sort) Oh, there's some cheating as well, though I think that will be the least of the reader's worries.

Pairing (if applicable): Jasper/ Rose & Carlisle

Summary:: Jasper is a carefree senior on the cusp of graduation, ready to settle down and play house with his longtime girlfriend. A new friend works his way into Jasper's bed and gets a different reaction than he expected. When Jasper realizes he's lost it all, how bad will it hurt? J/C lemon. Graphic descriptions of mayhem.

Hurt

Locking the bathroom door behind him Jasper paused, trying to catch his breath after running so hard from the revelations and gut wrenching shocks he'd suffered tonight. Did he really want to do this? Did he really have a choice? What was left? He was sure Rosalie was it for him.

Meeting Carlisle one night a couple of months ago, at the bowling alley, changed that. Carlisle had ensnared Jasper. Treated him like an equal- an adult. Jasper was eighteen to his twenty-nine. Carlisle, with his striking brown eyes, and wavy brown hair. Carlisle, whose rosy lips that drew in my eyes.

Jasper had never noticed a man's ass before, but he knew Carlisle's was fantastic. It was so easy to while away the hours talking with Carlisle. They would cover a myriad of topics; from the election drama to the optimum way to drink a beer, or cook a steak to the best way of skinning a kill while hunting. His eyes always seemed to take on a slight glaze when they drifted toward the macabre, but Jasper never thought too much of it.

Too bad Jasper hadn't noticed their conversation always took this shift whenever he talked about Rosalie in any capacity with Carlisle. Especially tonight, when Jasper had confessed his true feelings.

Something about Carlisle had hypnotized him. Jasper was nothing more than a fly caught in a web. At the mercy and whim of Carlisle's desires, Jasper had known deep down he had no hope, and had chosen to do nothing about it.

Until now.

Jasper reached into his pocket, his fingers seeking and finding the smooth pearl handle of his granddaddy's straight razor. It was the first time it had been taken from its velvet lined case since he had died, and now it was dirty. Tainted.

He raised the trembling hand to cover his mouth, blocking the sound of his sob. The sharp tang of iron and rust hit Jasper's nose, followed by the more subtle scent of Carlisle- and sex. With persistence, he'd finally seduced Jasper. So many times Jasper had read the signs and been able to step away, or redirect the conversation, but not this time.

They'd been sharing beers on the couch, having one of their hopscotch conversations. Jasper had tried to ignore how Carlisle kept shifting closer, wrote it off as accidental when Carlisle's hand brushed his thigh, his hand. Becoming uncomfortable, not because of his proximity, but because he was enjoying Carlisle's nearness, Jasper was grateful when the topic turned to ways of shaving.

Jasper hopped off the couch and headed for his bedroom, Carlisle following. Excitedly, he pulled the case from its spot in his top drawer and laid it atop the dresser, lifting the lid. Carlisle came up behind him, his hands coming either side of Jasper and caging him while he pressed his arousal against Jasper's ass.

"It's very pretty, but not as pretty as you, Jasper. Let's stop pretending there isn't something between us … I need to fuck that plump ass of yours," Carlisle said against the shell of Jasper's ear.

It was a split second decision. If Jasper had taken time to think about it he would've chickened out. He turned around in the tight space, Carlisle not backing off, making Jasper rub his body along Carlisle's arms.

"You're right," Jasper panted, as Carlisle's lips and teeth found Jasper's neck, attacking it with abandon, and slowly moving towards Jasper's bumbling mouth. "Something … want to know … won't tell Rose." Carlisle tensed, and all movement stopped for a fraction of a second, then he moved in for the kill.

Jasper gasped when Carlisle's tongue plunged into his mouth, then moaned, when overtaken by his taste. Rich. Smooth. Manly … which was so wrong, it was a turn on.

"Oh my god!" Jasper's eyes rolled back, his hands gripping the edge of the dresser. When had his shirt been removed? How had Carlisle ended up on his knees with Jasper's cock in his mouth? Long, slender fingers tugged on his balls, and suddenly he didn't care.

Rose never gave him head, claimed it was not "lady like". However, having sex in the back of your boyfriend's daddy's car apparently was. That was their routine on Saturday nights; movie and a back seat screw. If it was a special occasion, they added dinner.

Rose was reliable, steady, and real pretty too. She was perfect for him.

Even more so now that it looked like she was knocked up. They just had to figure out exactly what they were going to do. Little things like where to live, and work, because they were pretty sure neither of their parents were going to let them stay when they got wind of this. Not to mention graduation was only a month away.

But none of that even mattered right now. Not when Carlisle was swallowing around the head of his cock, extracting every bit of come from Jasper that he could.

Pleased, Carlisle sat back and Jasper's knees threatened to give way, having lost the support. Jasper dropped to his knees in front of him, noting that Carlisle was unfastening his pants and revealing his cock. Uncertainty marred his features as Jasper became nervous. He'd never even seen another man's dick up close, so how was he supposed to return the blow job? Why did he want to?

"Don't worry, pretty," Carlisle soothed. "I don't want your mouth right now."

Caught off guard yet again, Jasper could only ride the wave of sensations as he gave himself over.

Afterwards, Jasper lay sated in Carlisle's arms, his head still reeling from how good the violation to his ass had felt. Carlisle had been tender and heated, patient and commanding. Under Carlisle's attentive hands, Jasper had been opened lovingly then filled roughly, and brought to another screaming orgasm while Carlisle rhythmically stroked Jasper's cock in time to the beat of his dick in Jasper's ass.

A quick wipe down with a dampened washcloth and they fell into bed, snuggling into each other's warmth. The intense passion and need of the moment gone, doubt crept into Jasper's mind. Everything Carlisle had done to him had been nothing short of amazing, but his future was with Rose.

How was he going to tell her about his tryst with Carlisle? Would the fact that he'd slipped and cheated on her with another man make it okay?

Jasper's mind continued to run different scenarios. The assorted ways Rose would react, if he told her, working themselves out in his imagination. Even the painful realization of her possibly finding out from someone else. He couldn't let that happen. He wouldn't do that to her.

"What are you thinking about so hard, pretty?" Carlisle asked, bringing Jasper back to the present- to the reality of the dark room, ripe with the musky scent of their fucking. Jasper debated over telling him the truth, deciding that was best. He was already knee deep in shit over having to tell Rose, no point adding deception to … whatever this was with Carlisle.

"I've got to tell Rosalie," Jasper whispered, his breath moist and warm on Carlisle's chest.

Carlisle smiled as he looked down his chest to where Jasper's head rested. "Of course, I'll go with you if you'd like? We can tell her together."

"Why would we do that? She's going to be mad enough as it is. You being there will only make it worse. Please understand," Jasper replied without thinking.

"Because I love you, Jasper. I want to be by your side when you share our happy news," Carlisle explained, his eyes almost glowing with … something.

Jasper believed Carlisle thought it was love, but he had enough sense to know that's not what they had. They'd fucked, that was all. While it was erotic and pleasurable, Jasper doubted there would be a repeat and the words falling so carelessly, yet reverently from Carlisle's lips, made Jasper's head spin. Alarm ghosted over his skin, setting his nerves on fire.

Suddenly, Jasper was afraid. An instinctual preservation rising within had him gingerly pulling back from Carlisle.

"Love, Carlisle?" Jasper began with caution, "How can you say you love me? We've only known each other a couple of months." He was sitting up, moving away.

"Time has no meaning, Jasper. We may have only known each other briefly, but we fit. We work together," His hand moved to cup Jasper's cheek, but Jasper withdrew. Undeterred, Carlisle continued. "We make sense, Jasper. I'll give you time, but I know you love me, too. Your actions, your body, just told me as much." He smirked as Jasper's eyes darted away.

Jasper shook his head, climbing from the bed. "No, Carlisle. I'm sorry, but no. I'm with Rose, she's who I love. You know this," Jasper replied, his tone laced with pleading for Carlisle to accept his words.

Carlisle's eyes blazed even as his body tensed, and he jumped from the bed. "Jasper-" he let the name hang in the air, his hands working in and out of fists at his sides. He didn't need to say the words, Jasper understood the question in his eyes.

"I choose Rose, Carlisle, not you." His face fell at Jasper's declaration. The seconds pulsed by in their heartbeats, throbbing at their temples. Jasper watched Carlisle's eyes glaze over, shinier than he'd ever seen them when they talked graphic details.

Without a word, Carlisle got dressed. Pausing by the dresser, he looked back at Jasper and closed his eyes briefly. "For us, my sweetest friend," he murmured, making no sense to Jasper.

Without another word, Carlisle left.

Jasper didn't move until he heard the front door slam.

Restless, Jasper paced his bedroom, slowly redressing himself as he knelt to pick up the pieces of his scattered clothing. His parents weren't due home for another two hours, so he grabbed his phone and pressed Rose's number, one. He was hoping she would be able to let him come over.

It rang once, twice. On the fourth ring, she answered, breathless, "Jasper! Hey baby, what's up?" In the background the doorbell rang. "Oh, hold on, let me get the door."

Jasper resumed his pacing, coming to his dresser just as he heard Rose call out. "Who is it?" Looking down, Jasper's stomach dropped to the ground. He started to tell her not to open the door when her voice cut him off.

"Oh? Hey Carlisle, everything ok?"

Jasper screamed as a gurgling sound came down the line. He grabbed the empty case from his dresser and threw it across the room in a fit of rage before running out the door, not even slowing to check that the door closed behind him.

Jasper ran as fast as his feet would carry him down the road. She lived five blocks away; he had to get there in time. He had to.

When he reached her house, he came to a stop at the sidewalk, bending over to catch his breath while his hands rested on his knees. Gasping for air, he looked up, noticing the front door was ajar. His feet moved, carrying Jasper forward into the house. Pushing open the door, he called out. "Rose? Carlisle?" Sweat beaded on his forehead when he was met with silence.

Jasper stepped forward, stopping as he heard and felt the squelch below his socked foot. He hadn't stopped to put on his shoes. Jasper could feel warm wetness on his skin, and when he looked down the white of his sock was turning red. He fought the bile threatening to crawl up his throat while he cast his eyes about.

The carpet was soaked. The walls were splattered. There was so much red ... already darkening as it cooled and coagulated. Only sheer determination drove Jasper deeper into the house, towards Rose's bedroom. Her princess room done in lace, pinks, and pale greens.

When Jasper entered the room, he could only see Carlisle's back as he bent over her bed.

"What have you done, Carlisle?" Jasper asked carefully, fighting to keep the emotion out of his wavering voice. Carlisle straightened, slowly turning to face Jasper with a wicked grin of madness in his eyes. His right hand held the straight razor, now saturated in red. In his other hand was an unidentifiable bloody mass.

"For us, Jasper. They had to die for us. But I love you, so I didn't ask you to do it. I got rid of them for you, pretty. Now we can be together." The whole time he spoke, his left hand pulsed around the fleshy thickness he held. Horror gripped Jasper as he feared what it was … prayed that it wasn't his child.

Jasper couldn't breathe as he stepped forward, taking in the disaster that had been his beautiful Rose. Her face and torso were heavily marked with deep slashes, her left eye popped and oozing down her cheek. Her throat was nothing more than a gaping wound. The bile won its freedom when Jasper realized he could see inside of her.

Next to him, Carlisle dropped the razor and tried to wrap his arms around Jasper's back while he heaved violently on the carpet. Pushing him off, Jasper panted out a request for some water and a towel. Carlisle stood and ran out of the room and Jasper wasted no time. He gazed on Rose for a mere moment before grabbing the razor and shoving it in his pocket after folding it in half.

He ran home as fast as he'd run to Rose's house. She had been his past and present … they were going to be his future. Tarnishing the sentimentality of the heirloom, Carlisle had hacked up Jasper's reason for living with his granddaddy's razor.

All under the grand disillusionment that they, Jasper and Carlisle, would be together afterwards.

~X~

Picking up the razor, Jasper looked in the mirror, starring himself in the eye while he brought the corner of the blade to the base of his palm, near the center.

Carlisle was a curiosity; he never could have been Jasper's life. Not the way Rose had been, or their child would have been. Carlisle thought he'd secured Jasper as his. He'd done the opposite.

What Carlisle had done was unforgivable … unlovable.

No Rosalie, no child … no life.

The pain was immediate and sharp … then gone, replaced with a dull throb. He did glance down now, and saw the red splashing against the white porcelain. The acid rose when the panic tried to creep in. Jasper fought it, switching the blade to the opposite hand. He repeated the motion.

The razor clanked against the edge of the sink, Jasper wincing when a piece of the pearl chipped off and skittered away. The pattern of red on white was oddly pretty to Jasper.

In a daze, he stumbled into the bedroom and laid on his bed, placing himself on display for Carlisle's certain return.

As the light faded from his eyes, darkness saturated the covers beneath him.

~The End~