A/N: These drabbles are some Edward/Jasper camping adventures written for OnTheTurningAway's birthday. I hope you enjoy them!
There is some umm…picspiration up on my blog, if you'd like to see it. http:/sorceress-circe(dot)blogspot(dot)com/2010/07/happy-birthday-ontheturningaway(dot)html
-=Frantic=-
My fingers twitch, aching to reach across the flickering campfire for the Droid stuffed into the bottom of my backpack.
I want it. Need it.
I need to know what's going on in the world, if my offer on the beach house was approved, if my crew can start demolition on our latest project.
"Not a chance," his lazy voice drawls.
My eyes snap from dull gray fabric to vivid gray eyes. I take a calming breath.
That smile – that face – those lips… they make up the one man in the world who could convince me to exile myself willingly.
-=Glow=-
"Not bored, are you?" he whispers, his face suddenly so close I can feel his breath blaze against my cheek, hotter than the glowing flames that cast him in shadow.
"No." I swallow, relishing the thrill that shoots through me at the hunger I see in his eyes.
He leans in, his nose trailing along my jaw to nudge my ear. "Damn… too bad."
My hands lift automatically, my fingers toying with the top button of his flannel shirt. "Why?" I ask breathlessly.
"Because I know a great cure." His voice is wicked, as teasing as his hand dipping down.
-=Blind=-
Clothes are scattered all around, ripped off in haste, removed with care, our hands alternately frenzied and tender.
When we are down to our underwear, he tries to pull away, reaching for a blanket, but I shake my head, my lips still against his. He smiles, a low chuckle rumbling his chest as he presses me back into the grass.
He tears my underwear away, and I shove his briefs over his hips, my head lolling to the ground when his bare flesh meets mine.
My open eyes stare vacantly as Jasper peppers my body with kisses, caressing me roughly.
-=Chase=-
My body burns, flames igniting where he presses into me, spreading through my hips and torso, scorching my throat and leaving me panting for sweet relief.
I am vaguely aware of pain, rocks and prickly grass digging into my back, but it only serves to emphasize the bliss that is Jasper's body joined with mine.
"Fuck, Edward," he grunts, exertion and tenuous control making his voice raw.
He brushes his hand off on my discarded shirt and spits in his palm, reaching between us to take my cock in hand. My toes curl, hips rise, back arches.
I cry out.
-=Blaze=-
We lie on our sides, Jasper's body comfortable against my back as we watch the campfire together. The blanket is soft beneath us, the evidence of our earlier frenzy all but erased as we share a moment of serenity.
I listen to his breathing against the clicking melody of the cicadas. He laughed when I asked what the noise was, but it was a sound of affection, not derision.
His hand strokes my chest beneath my shirt as his lips brush against my neck.
"Marry me, Ed," he whispers.
I don't have to think; my answer is simple, absolute.
"Yes."