Fire and Ice
By: Alliana
Rating: M
Pairing: Edward and Jacob
Warnings: Nothing really bad, but nothing really appropriate for younger than 18. You've been warned. Also, a lot of repetition, but it fits.
Fandom: Twilight (duh)
Disclaimer: I obviously don't own Twilight
Summary: An inside look on Jacob's thoughts about Edward
He loves him.
He knows it's wrong- he knows that he is the enemy. The 'cold one'. Knows that he is supposed to hate him, to want kill him. But despite this, he loves him.
He loves his scent, the scent that is burned into his memory, the scent that makes his nose burn and his heart race with desire. The scent that sickens and hurts his kind, but the scent that he loves.
He loves his voice, the voice that is like smooth velvet. That voice can make him hard within seconds. He loves it most when that voice moans from beneath him as he pounds into the older, yet slighter, man. He especially loves it when he makes him climax, and he screams out his desire, his pure, raw passion.
He loves his skin. It is smooth, and so entirely different from his own. He loves it when he runs his hand along his side, down his hip, and around to his hard cock. Loves it when he trails a cold hand down the side of his overly-warm face, the way he cups it and holds it like the most cherished, loved thing in the world. The way they can nuzzle into the other's neck, how it seem's as if their skin, their shape, was meant for each other.
He loves his body, the long, lean, pale, contoured body that shines like the stars itself. He loves it when those long legs wrap around his waist, when his long digits wrap themselves around his hard cock. The way he always thinks he has to hold back, but cannot in the end.
He loves his face. The way all of that shaggy, bronzed hair grazes his shoulder, his golden eyes as they light up from either beneath him or atop him. His smooth, carved face, as it stretches into a lusty smile, his white teeth gleaming against his full, pouty red lips.
But mostly, he loves his mind and the way they can talk to each other. The way he always seems to understand, even without reading his thoughts. The way he can be himself around him, and vice versa. They always seem to understand each other. Their easy banter they always share before either having loud, rough, passionate sex outside, in the forest, on the beach under the stars, in the wild water that always tried to claim the other, always tried to drown one of them, but never could. Not so long as they had each other. Or before they have soft, easy loving in their special place. The place where they took each other for that first time.
They both still remember it- the way they glared at each other, then their hands on each other, touching, pulling, pinching, rubbing. He still remember's the way his lover had pulled his cock into his mouth, the way he sucked and nipped. He remember's the way he was taken- rough and selfishly, yet still slow and lovingly. A type of combination that only they had with one another.
Oh, yes. He knows why he loves him, and it is a simple reason.
Jacob is Edward's fire, and Edward is Jacob's ice.