Twilight's not mine. Obviously.
Totally OOC Edward, because fuck if that boy is repressed in the canon. Just pretend they've been together long enough that Edward's over all his shit. Yes. Chagrin was purposely chosen. I should shut up before this is as long as the piece.
The title is totally a pun on the preening comment.
Jacob knew he had made a mistake the instant he stepped inside the house. It was more than just sickly sweet scent of vampires that filled the house, that sent him rockin' back on his heels as he had been slapped with it. It was more than just the two vampires twined together on the couch, Rosalie's fingers dragging at Emmett's hair while she ground against his hips.
Rosalie noticed him, and with a glare, led Emmett out of the room. It wasn't the display or the blonde's evil look, that made him regret his choice to come, that sent a flush creeping past the neckline of his tee and up his throat. No, it was what they were wearing.
Or more exactly, what he wasn't wearing.
Even making out on the couch on a lazy Sunday morning, they were dressed in clothes he was sure had been purchased from some high fashion boutique from some fancy European city. Jake was suddenly too aware of the clothes he wore. His were hand-me-downs; tight over his shoulders and chest, since his older cousin had never had manifesting wolf genetics playing havoc with his puberty.
When he had been at home, preening (though he would have wolfed out on anyone who had called it that) in front of the mirror, he had thought that the dark blue fabric clinging to his chest had made him look roguish. Had thought the well-worn fabric had brought out the wolfish gleam in his eyes and played up the new definition in his body.
Now, he saw it for what it was. It, and his shorts with their ragged cuffs and patches, weren't anything to preen over. Why on earth would Edward want somebody who didn't fit in to his perfect family? He was just a rangy wolf, completely imperfect when compared to a vampire. Edward's long, lean form was icy perfection trapped in the stone of vampire flesh. Chill's always traversed down his spine when the vampire's artistic hands traced love notes on his thighs or his lips pressed to the hollow along his collarbone.
He didn't belong here, attempting to make a life within this icy perfection; trying to melt himself a spot with his wolfish heat.
"Jacob." Edward's voice came from above him, caressing his name with a heat that belayed the vampire's icy nature. Lust tangled with chagrin in the pit of Jake's stomach.
The vampire came down the stairs faster than a human, immaculate in a white button down and slacks. Edward pulled him into an embrace, his mouth finding his. The raw heat that Jacob discovered there yet again made him wonder at the chill of vampires. How could a creature so cold have such internal heat?
Edward trapped Jake's lower lip between his, then planted a kiss on the corner of his throbbing lips. Jake nuzzled at him, tilting his head to expose a sweep of neck, hands traversing over the luxurious silk on Edward's back. He tried to ignored the expensive fabric beneath his fingertips, trying to focus on the way Edward's cold mouth moved over his flesh, and his taut muscles.
Not the fabric that separated them in more ways than one.
With cold fingers, Edward hooked the collar of his tee and pulled it aside to press a kiss to his shoulder. "I love the way you look," he said, returning to claim his mouth, his voice a rasp. "It gives me some very, very bad ideas."
Sometimes, dating a mind reader had its upsides.