A/n I wrote this sorta drunk off white claw while watching Iron Man. Somehow everyone is out of town, so it is just me and my cat glaring at the computer, in hopes of my thesis proposal or grad school apps writing themselves until then.
"Look - just because he's dead, doesn't mean I was the one to do it," Jasper drawled smooth as Tennessee whiskey, into a room of disbelieving silence.
"Mr. Whitlock, we found him dead and heavily bleeding, with trauma to the neck, in your bedroom," Carlisle incredulously responded, turning to Esme for support.
"Why is it always Mr. Whitlock when somebody ends up dead, with you guys?" Jasper muttered into the ground.
-
1 hour earlier
-
Jasper and Beau stood side by side in the parking lot. Beau was twitching, a nervous edge to his action. Jasper was corpse-still.
"So…we take my car?" Beau blurted out, shifting his weight from foot to foot like he desperately had to pee.
It wasn't that the truck was anything special, but he was fairly certain Jasper had arrived with his siblings.
"You're trying to get me alone, Mr. Swan?" Jasper spoke with a laugh.
Beau jerked, warily staring at the other man. Realizing he was kidding, Beau hesitantly laughed, "uh, isn't that your line?"
"Probably," Jasper surmised, already heading to the truck.
Beau stumbled after him, pushing his hair back as he raced forward, "so! What do you – like wanna do – at your place? Like play video games or have lunch or something or maybe you don't wanna do that, maybe you wanna like just chill or something? Something could be cool, I mean, if your into that — I'm not sayin -"
"Beau." Jasper cut, an eyebrow quirking at his order, "calm."
Beau thickly swallowed.
"Yeah? Yeah, I'm calm. This is calm. That's my middle name. Beau, 'the calm', they called me back in Phoenix."
"Can Beau, 'the calm', open the car door?" Jasper teased.
"Psh," Beau leaned an elbow against the window trim, "hell yeah, Beau can do that." He nodded eagerly.
Jasper motioned towards the door with his head.
"Oh!" Beau scrambled, "yup, I got it," he unlocked the door, opening it with flair, "your chariot, good sir."
Jasper lightheartedly huffed, taking a seat without further comment.
Beau hurried to the driver's seat, shutting the door with boyish glee, he switched on the radio and pulled out, not actually knowing which direction he was supposed to go.
"You haven't a clue where I live, do you?" Jasper drawled to the sound of 'Hotel California'.
Beau snorted in spite of himself, "no, not really."
Jasper shook his head, amusement lacing his words, "just go left until I tell you to pull off."
Beau turned, eyes flickering from the street to Jasper. He didn't know forks at all, hadn't been in town since he was practically a baby, so everything looked entirely new to him. Somehow, he still thought it was emptier than he had known it to be before.
Jasper let him have his silence. If anything, the other man seemed to enjoy it, to please him that Beau didn't constantly have to be making a fool of himself. Beau silently agreed. There was something chemical about sitting in silence with somebody else.
"Left," Jasper finally disturbed the tranquility. But even that was said so easily, that it felt as if the tone of the words could blend into the environment itself.
The steering wheel turned. The road Jasper had led them down had an abandoned feeling to it. It looked more like something out of a video game than real life – truly he thought it would fit better in an apocalyptic world then anything the beautiful mystery man belonged to.
When the road drew short, a lovely modern house was exposed by the dimming evergreens. It was modern. More modern than Beau had ever seen anything in Forks being. But he didn't hate it. He wasn't sure if that was just because Jasper himself lived there, or something entirely different.
"You can just pull up to the front, no need to park in the garage." Jasper directed.
Following his instructions, Beau stopped the engine and jangled his keys out, pausing to take a breath. "And now what?" He asked Jasper, fervently hoping he had an answer.
"We can go inside," Jasper flirted, "unless there's somewhere else you have to be..?" He trailed off.
"No. Nowhere I'd rather be." He returned too honestly.
Jasper opened his door, leading Beau like a fish freshly caught on a hook, to the door.
Beau gasped at the interior. It was like a tardis. Not magically. Or literally. Just something about the inside seemed entirely otherworldly in comparison to the clean glass and wooden lines to the front exterior. The strangest part about it, was everything in sight, seemed to be a pure dove white. Precise. Clean. Pure.
Extremely peculiar.
"Would you be interested in going up to my room?" Jasper leaned closer. Beau could smell him from this distance, helplessly forcing him closer. It was pheromones.
Instinctual.
"I would love to." He admitted.
Jasper returned his smile, just a bit too soft at the edge to make Beau stumble back, but only barely. Like it was becoming a pattern, Beau followed Jasper again, all the way up the stairs and to a cherry wood door.
"Jasper," Beau breathed like it was a prayer.
"Yes, Beau?" Jasper twanged, a surpress laugh in his words.
"I would really like to see your room."
"I know."
"So can I -"
"Yes," this time the laugh was fully present. He pushed the door open.
Beau gasped at the overwhelming smell, whiskey and sandalwood and leather and…there was something else that he couldn't place. It was musky and incredible. Mouthwatering. He took an unconscious step forward.
Jasper huffed a cool breath, hitting his neck at the end of the breath, "Do you want to sit?"
Beau's eyes drifted towards the only available seating. The bed. The covers were as white as everything else in the room.
"Is there a reason everything is so…" he struggled to find the words.
"Conservative? White? Droll?" Jasper considered. He didn't seem offended.
"Sure, any of those, I suppose," Beau's eyes stayed on the bed. He did want to sit. There wasn't a part of him that thought it was a particularly well thought out decision, but god, did he want to.
Jasper eyed the bed, looking at it like he had never seen it before, "Esme. She designs everything in the house."
"You don't get an opinion on it?" Beau further questioned.
Jasper closed his eyes, slow like a cat, and then opened them.
"It's not something I'm going to argue over."
"Why not?" Beau inspected the sheets, finally moving to sit on top of them. They were soft beneath his fingers. Egyptian cotton.
"There are bigger hills to die over." Jasper decided.
While Beau didn't understand why sheets could lead to an argument in the first place, he did understand choosing what was worth the pressing of disagreement.
Jasper followed him to the bed, sitting just an inch too close to be platonic.
Beau's heart started to thunder. He had never done this before. Not to say he wasn't interested in it now – that would have been entirely false to say. Beau was extremely interested in anything Jasper had to offer.
Jasper leaned in, his cold breath hitting Beau's cheek in tiny little puffs.
"Is this okay?" Jasper thickly swallowed.
"God yes," Beau shuddered.
Jasper leaned in closer, lips touching Beau's warm and pulsing neck. It was wet. And then hard.
And then sharp.
Beau's spine snapped back, curving in a backwards C. Teeth tore into flesh, sucking him down in all the ways that simultaneously ached and pleased. He felt other. Different.
A way he had never before.
His cock twitched.
"Please," he moaned, Jasper further guzzling him down.
"I got you, darlin'" Jasper comforted between wet kisses.
Beau started drifting. He knew it was all ending, he was dying – fully aware it was too much for a human to handle. But god did he want it.
His fingers gripped Jasper's shoulder, trying to bruise with all he had, before they grew slack from blood loss.
Beau hadn't know that Jasper had orthodontically sharpened teeth, but the blood kink made sense with the mysterious aesthetic.
"You taste like ambrosia," Jasper whispered and Beau slipped into a deep, deep, sleep.
His heart stopped.
-
Jasper stared at the corpse below him. Well, that was that.
The front door opened.
( Fuck)
Jasper sighed, already headed towards the family meeting room, which led him back to the present moment.
-
"Look - just because he's dead, doesn't mean I was the one to do it," Jasper drawled, smooth as Tennessee whiskey, into a room of disbelieving silence.
"Mr. Whitlock, we found him dead and heavily bleeding, with trauma to the neck, in your bedroom," Carlisle incredulously responded, turning to Esme for support.
"Why is it always Mr. Whitlock when somebody ends up dead, with you guys?" Jasper muttered into the ground.
"It's sad that there's a distinction at this point." Rosalie hissed into her nail polish, as she coated another cherry red layer.
"Try and be more supportive, children. Jasper tries his best." Esme motherly chastised.
"He really doesn't." Edward mumbled into the ground.
"We're not kicking him out of the family," Alice foretold.
"Unfortunately," Edward and Rosalie sighed. They startled, both disgusted at the notion of agreeing with each other.
"Just because Jasper lures people to his death, doesn't mean he's a bad person!" Esme scolded, hands flying up in exasperation.
"Agreed." Alice nodded, her hair flicking into her face, with the pointedness of the motion.
Jasper leaned back, amused at the discourse.
"You can't judge a man by his diet," Jasper innocently snarked.
"You really can," Edward murmured.
"I don't know, it sounds kinda rude, my aunt was once on a soup cleanse, and she hated it when people called her a fat cow for being on it." Beau wandered into the room, a glass of orange juice in his hands. He took a slurp through a bendy straw.
"Exactly! Beau has a point," Jasper's voice lingered off, "fucking wait a second, BEAU?" The man looks like he's been punched in the stomach.
"Fuck sorry, am I interrupting a family meeting?" Beau worried.
Emmett choked, "bro, I'm sorry to cuss or whatever – but what the actual fuck."
Jasper mirrored his incredulous expression, until it flipped, "see! He's fine. Didn't kill him if he got back up, right?"
Carlisle's eyebrows furrowed, "I-I don't actually know."
Jasper nodded, satisfaction oozing in his words, "Beau agrees. He's all good. Look at him!"
They all turned to Beau, slowly sucking his (now with extra pulp!) orange juice out with a straw. He gave them an awkward little wave, "I'm all good, hey wait? Does this make us boyfriends?"
Jasper's eyes owled out. "That's a lot of commitment."
" More than killing him is? " Edward gasped like Jasper, was the weird one for not committing to somebody who he's only known in regards to wanting him dead while he was actively in another relationship.
Jasper bobbed his head.
"Harsh." Beau sighed to himself.
