A/N: Uhhhhhh how has it been more than a month?! Oops. Let's just pretend I didn't have a whole ass episode there & get on with the fic.
This update's honour roll recognises:
Riveriver: Girl at this rate I am just giving you the keys to the city.
Dee: Glad you enjoyed! One of your big questions will be answered very shortly...
Guest: Thanks for commenting! I adore Rachel. She is the perfect low-key foil.
Also, the first chunk is totally gratuitous smut, but there is actual plot here I swear (for real this time).
Seth
The muffled whimper of the ancient plumbing dredges me from sleep, despite my best attempts to cling to unconsciousness. It takes me a long moment to place where I am, the surroundings totally unlike my familiar double bed and overflowing laundry hamper. Her scent permeates every inch of my surroundings, clinging to the bedding, my skin, immersing me in a mind-scrambling haze of utter contentment. Flashes of last night filter into my tired brain in slow-motion, until all I can think about is Jess, telling me she loves me, giving me the best sex of my life.
Not that I have much to compare it with.
Still, I grin stupidly to myself, burying my face in her thickly-scented pillow. My head spins from the revelation that she loves me - that she knows what I am, has seen what I become, and has stuck around regardless. I'd hoped that she'd take the news with an open mind, but yesterday went leagues beyond what I had ever imagined. I was ready to beg, plead, and grovel for another chance, but comprehension had dawned in her crystal-clear eyes, and though she smelled of adrenaline, she'd taken my hand and, by association, my side. Better yet was the fact that she had chosen me without the pressure of imprinting and pack politics hanging over her head, forcing her hand towards compliance with the route that every other imprint relationship seemed to take.
As soon as we torch the nomad that's been sniffing around the Res, and I fill her in on the final piece of the puzzle, everything will be perfect.
I swallow a yawn as I pad my way into her bathroom, the air sweltering with thick clouds of steam that have perspiration beading on my forehead in seconds. I watch her for a long moment, admiring the way she tilts her face upwards into the spray, her pale skin flushing pink from the heat. It doesn't matter how many times I set eyes on her, or how often I catch a glimpse of the private side of herself she keeps hidden away, buried under a teasing scowl and snarky tone, I know it will never be enough, not when I have a lifetime of discovery to look forward to. For every known quantity, there are a million undefined variables, hallowed knowledge that will only ever belong to the two of us.
One day, I will know each and every answer to my curiosities, from how she likes her coffee to whether she dreams of her belly rounded and swollen with my child.
I slip into the shower behind her, hooking my fingers over her hip bones so I can tug her closer, her damp skin pressing flush against mine. She sighs softly, tilting her head so I can bury my face in her neck - something I have come to venerate as one of life's finest pleasures - and the simple delight of her velvet skin is enough to have me at half-mast in seconds.
"Eager, aren't you," she teases, grinding her hips against my rapidly growing erection.
I hum against her skin, enthralled by the way her pulse quickens after a litany of lingering kisses. The exhilarating high that comes from hunting vampires is a cheap thrill compared to the gratification of getting under her skin in a way that nobody else ever can, because as much as I am hers, she is mine, in every conceivable way.
She shivers as I flex my fingers over her thighs, digging my fingernails into her soft skin. The memory comes back to me then, biting her in the midst of it all, and I'm filled with an all-consuming sense of need that I can't even begin to explain.
"I want to see it," I mutter, dropping to my knees on the shower floor.
Jess squeaks in surprise, but she doesn't object to my hitching her thigh over my shoulder, bringing the dark purple welt mere inches from my mouth. I can see each individual indent in the matching crescent moons, the skin puckered and raised from where my teeth punctured through only hours before. A tiny part of me is horrified that I could ever do this to her, but I can hardly hear reason over the voracious growl of the wolf, desperate and wild.
Mine.
Jess knots her fingers in my hair, dragging my face closer to the mark until the only thing separating her from my mouth is the tiniest shred of self-control. I look up at her through half-lidded eyes, willing her to say something - anything - that will squash the uncontrolled urge to sink my teeth further into her flesh, taking us down an entirely uncharted path.
"Didn't take you for the kinky type, Clearwater," she says, her eyes dark with lust. "I like it."
This time, when she draws my face closer to her thigh, I give in, laving my tongue over the mark. Her grip on my hair tightens, her breath coming in heavy pants, and I'd be lying if I said my head wasn't spinning from the combined metallic tang of blood and the heady scent of her arousal. I'm torn between working the bruised flesh over until the mark is clear enough to see from space, and burying my face between her thighs, but Jess' decisive fist in my hair solves the issue for me.
Her breath comes out in a needy whine as I swipe my tongue across her centre, sucking hard on her clit. I don't have the self-control to make her wait, and I hardly expect to survive her wrath if I even try, judging by the way she impatiently rocks against my mouth, chasing her own pleasure. It doesn't take much to get her worked up, especially when I tease her entrance, stretching her with the slide of my fingers.
She tips her head back, my name falling from her pink lips like a prayer, and I may just be closer to my own release than she is to hers. Her racing heartbeat echoes in my ears as I coax her closer to the edge, crooking my fingers to reach the spot that makes her squeal. An extra finger, my hand anchored on her thigh; it's nothing compared to the unholy moan she releases when I clamp my mouth back onto the mark, giving into the predatory urge to claim every inch of her body. My mouth only leaves her skin when she tugs me away, her pupils blown and cheeks flushed.
"What do you need?" I murmur, stroking her overheated skin.
She blinks drunkenly at me, wobbling slightly as she unhooks her thigh from my shoulder. "I need you to fuck me, and then I think you're going to have to carry me back to bed."
"I can handle that," I promise, scrambling to find my footing on the slippery shower tile.
She is equal parts gravity and inertia, communion and carnality, a rewiring of the very essence of who I thought I was into the being that I was destined to become. Jess is both an anchor and an enigma, vixen and virtue, and though a primal undercurrent of terror lurks beneath the surface, my body knows the score, instinctively angling and adjusting until my hips sink into hers, our bodies blending into one.
Her body seems to melt into the shower wall as I drive myself home, slamming into her until her mouth falls slack and her eyes roll back. I tangle one hand into her hair, the other curling around her thigh until my fingers splay possessively over the mark, indelible proof that she has chosen me. She pants harder with every stroke, breathing my name between spates of curses filthy enough to make me blush, her beautiful face pressed gracelessly against the shower wall. I want to make her forget everything outside of this bathroom; I want to hear her fall apart for me and me alone. The thought of her naked and wanting and panting for another man drives me insane with jealousy, pushing me deeper into her. Her fingernails dig into my forearm as she arches her back, breathing words too soft for even my ears to discern.
I bury my face into her neck, teasing the delicate skin between my teeth until she mewls with pleasure. "What is it?"
"Please," she pants, tightening around me until I can hardly think.
I glide my fingers across her swollen clit, rubbing clumsy circles until she cries out, clamping around me. I'm powerless to do anything but follow her over the edge, spilling inside her before she can even come down from her high. My body feels impossibly heavy as I pull away, and it takes a concerted effort to make it through the rigmarole of cleaning us both up, detangling the mess I've made of her hair.
A sudden pounding on the bathroom door has me alert in milliseconds, protectively caging her shivering body against the tile.
"Jessica! Quit fucking your boyfriend and save some hot water for the rest of us!"
Jess snorts, twisting the taps. "We can't all be spinsters, Paige!"
"Cold," I comment, passing her a towel. "I don't think I'm making a great first impression."
She shrugs, wrapping the towel tightly around her body. "Come on, you're Seth. Everyone likes you. Relax."
Before I can argue, Jess pads back into her bedroom, haphazardly throwing items of clothing around as she digs through her overflowing closet - something that would be adorable if it wasn't a major fire hazard. I step into yesterday's shorts, frowning at the awkward lack of a button - damned anger management issues - though the worn fabric hardly reaches my thighs before a howl rings out, clear as day despite being smack-dab in the middle of Forks.
Jess' wide eyes flash to mine as she clutches her towel to her chest, clothing crisis forgotten.
A second howl pierces the morning stillness, only moments after the first.
It doesn't take a genius to parse the message. Vampire.
I press a firm kiss to her forehead, holding her head between my hands so I can stare her in the eyes. "Promise me you'll stay inside."
"You'll come back?" she whispers, her blue eyes filled with terror.
"Promise," I bite out, hearing the answering calls of my packmates echoing in my ears. "I have to go. Stay here."
I make a mental note to repair her bedroom window later; the flimsy mesh screen comes cleanly off in seconds, allowing me to clamber through for a running start. She doesn't live anywhere near the forest, because that would be much too convenient, and so I have to sprint on two legs through the suburban streets, holding my jorts up with one hand. I can practically feel the curious eyes of her neighbours glued to me as I race towards the tree line, fighting to squash the terrible dread that blooms with every resounding howl. The calls are closer now, at least, and the moment I'm shielded from view I phase, turning my shorts into denim confetti without a second glance.
It's bedlam, having the entire pack in at once, something we haven't needed in a long while.
I don't want to think about that.
Christ, what took you so long? Collin demands, exasperated. Western boundary, now!
What's going on? I think, my paws falling into a familiar rhythm as I tear through the forest, tapping into my inhumanly strong sense of smell. The bleach-infused bloodsucker scent swirls around me like a miasma of dread.
Two of them, Quil interjects, his thoughts louder than I've ever heard. Guard the boundary and watch out for the small one. She's fuckin' fast.
Tell me about it, Jared grumbles. She's not going to be that lucky the second time around.
I drive my paws harder into the dirt, pushing my muscles to their limit so I can hit my mark. We've practised the play a million times over, we all know our parts, but doing it for real, against actual live vampires, is an entirely different ball game.
False. Vampires aren't live, Collin thinks smugly, setting off a chain reaction of everyone complaining.
Quit it, asshole -
Oh my God, it doesn't even matter!
I can't believe I phased in for this.
Focus! Jake orders, instantly quietening the pack mind. Save the bitching for later.
I slow to a trot as I approach the boundary, cautiously eyeing the steep embankment. If all goes to plan, Embry will flush the vampire out of the brush, primed for Collin and me to triangulate our attack like a squadron of ravenous vultures. Once we've disassembled the nomads, one of the pups will torch the pieces, and it will be over.
Remember the plan, Quil thinks, his attention focused squarely on the cavern before him. Easy as breathing.
I crouch low on my haunches, drawing on what feels like a lifetime's worth of collective aggression, extracted from countless battles, innumerable scraps and scrapes that should have, would have, claimed lesser fighters. It's been years since the Italian face-off, but the taste of Bella's fear still ignites a desperate flame of self-preservation, the drive to rip, tear, kill humming barely beneath the surface.
What are you, a fucking Basilisk?
Jesus, can't a guy reflect in peace, I grumble, shaking the train of thought loose. Okay. Focused.
Fantastic, Seth, really good work -
Paul's wry commentary cuts off instantly, crowded out by a streak of white, a billowing cloud of dark hair that blooms behind the biggest creature I have ever seen, cartoonishly giant and positively murderous. The thing towers over Paul, dwarfing his otherwise oversized frame as if Paul were just a cub.
It's instant pandemonium, hardly aided by the sudden appearance of the nomad's friend from the Northern Line, a spindly little thing that darts nimbly around Quil and Jacob, disappearing into the thick brush lining the ravine in the blink of an eye.
Go, Jared! Sam orders, restlessly pacing along the Southern border. Get the small one at the gully.
Shit, shit, shit, Quil chants, desperately tracking the mini-hellion with all of his might. She's going to turn -
Push her my way, Leah barks. Gully's covered.
Glimpses of the chase flicker through my mind like an out of control view-master reel, blending flashes from the ridge, glimmers from below, until the visions melt into a single developing negative, foggy and obstructed.
Big bastard's coming, Paul warns, edging closer to the beast. Get the legs and I'll take her head.
The nomad moves fast, size be damned, and in a stroke of spectacularly terrible luck, the vampires converge in a split second, bolting through the gully in frenetic succession. Jared's teeth glance off the small one's arm, the force tearing a sizeable chunk free, but she continues towards the embankment undeterred. The giant streaks closely behind, her mouth stretched wide in a terrifying display of unfettered mirth, somehow entirely oblivious to Leah's flying leap.
Paralysed, I can only watch through Embry's eyes, milliseconds stretching into eons. He hesitates for the tiniest fraction of a second, gauging Leah's ferocious assault before he too dives in, anchoring the vampire by an ankle. Paul tears her head free with a simple twist of the head, immortalising a ghastly silent scream on her porcelain face. Well, immortalised until one of the cubs torches her, and then it will be as if she never existed.
Jared pursues the surviving vampire with single-minded determination, herding her down the embankment like a cattle dog on steroids.
Ready? Collin urges, lowering into a crouch.
Dibs on the head, I think, straining my eyes to focus on the rustling shrubbery.
Get her, Jake orders, a mere breath before she lurches over the crest, Jared snapping furiously at her heels.
Collin lunges first, latching onto her marred forearm until their combined weight pulls her to the ground, momentarily disorientated from the tumbling hit. She claws furiously at Collin's snout, but his grip stays steady, pinning her until my jaws close snugly around her jugular. Between my hold on her head, and Jared's violent desiccation of her lower half, she doesn't stand a chance.
At least her (second) death is quick.
One of the older recruits, Paul's cousin a few times removed, is quick to jog over with a barbecue lighter, torching the smaller scraps of granite that litter the forest floor. He hums as he works, cheerfully turning the sparkling chunks into ash. He's undaunted by my curious gaze, unabashedly shrugging his bare shoulders.
"What, am I not meant to enjoy this?" Tristan asks, jogging over to set the vampire's head alight. "Talk about a great start to the day."
Collin phases back, languidly stretching in his human form. "Probably wondering about the lighter. Was the gas station sold out?"
"Actually, I was cleaning out the garage when Quil howled. Grabbed the closest thing. Hey, how about I torch that rattail of yours?" he taunts, waving the flame threateningly in Collin's direction.
"Five bucks he gets Collin," Jared offers, grinning at Collin's sudden nervousness.
"Ten bucks says Tristan burns himself," Embry volunteers, loping down the hillside. "Good catch, by the way. That almost got messy."
"Very kind of the vamps to wait for us all to be on the Res," I comment, idly watching Collin sprinting towards Emily's, still clutching his shorts in his hands. "Hey, you got spares? Mine are in pieces by the General Store."
"Deconstructed," Embry says wryly, handing over his cargo shorts. "You're lucky it's warm out today. I could do with a tan."
"Nice ass, Call!" Quil bellows, leading Leah - who has dramatically shielded her eyes with her hands - down the hill. "Almost as white as the bloodsucker!"
"I think that's my cue to leave," I say, quickly dressing. "Oh, and fifteen on Collin escaping unscathed."
Embry shakes on it before jogging after Jared, ostensibly eager to see who will be opening their wallet next. Realistically, I should be abstaining from betting, given my twenty-five dollar loss last week - how was I supposed to know that Rachel would bribe Paul to abstain from alcohol for a week in exchange for a sexual act too heinous to put into words? - but there's something uniquely tempting about a good old fashioned ridiculous wager.
The walk back to Forks is pleasant, all things considered. Given that I'm no longer fearing for my life - for today, at least - I can actually enjoy the rare sunshine, watching as it melts away all traces of frost. As warm as the sun rays feel on my skin, the sidelong glances from complete strangers are concrete proof that yes, I am suspiciously underdressed, both for the season and this otherwise normal neighbourhood.
At least these shorts have a functional button.
I can hear Jess and Paige arguing all the way from the street corner, but it's not until I'm up on their stoop that I can pick out specific words. Given I've shared a roof with a temperamental sister for seventeen point five years, I'd rather not hear the specifics; my imagination already has plenty of sisterly issues to conjugate.
I knock on the door before Jess can deal out a similarly acerbic retort to Paige's extremely specific complaints - she's nothing if not creative - and, thankfully, the door whips open almost immediately.
Jess, entirely swallowed in the hoodie I deliberately left hanging over the back of her desk chair, positively beams at my arrival. "Thank you. See, Paige, I told you he would come."
I look between the pair, taking in Paige's furrowed brow, her stormy glare, wondering how exactly I factor into this equation.
"I'm sorry?"
"You should be!" Paige exclaims, throwing her hands up in the air. "Tell me why Jess took my keys and told me I couldn't open because there were bad vibes."
"Uh…" I start, looking at Jess for help, but I can tell she's hardly stifling a laugh as it is. "My mom had weird looking tea leaves this morning. I had to go and check."
"Tea leaves?" Paige demands, folding her arms across her chest.
Shit. I know that look.
"Yeah. Uh, she thought they were worms, which means secret enemies are trying to stop your success, but she had the cup upside down. We agreed they were probably dashes, and that means you're going to be pretty busy today."
"Busy my ass," Paige grumbles, snatching her keys from Jess' outstretched hand. "Jessica, you're going to be in charge of calling every single customer that makes a complaint. I hope you paid for those unlimited minutes."
She slams the door before Jess can reply, and it's probably for the best.
The moment the door clicks closed, Jess scrambles forwards, wrapping her arms tightly around my waist. Her face is squished against my chest - not that I'm complaining - so firmly that it is probably uncomfortable, though she doesn't seem to mind. I curl my arms around her shoulders, rubbing little circles on the back of her neck until her heartbeat slows, her breathing evens out, until I can be sure that she isn't going to lose it.
"Everyone is fine," I reassure her, twirling her hair between my fingers. "Things went to plan, we dealt with the problem, and Emily's back to fattening everyone up. Sorry I had to run out like that."
Her face is still pressed against my chest, but the tiny sniffle gives her away.
She's crying.
"Jess-"
"And what about next time? When you get hurt, or Quil gets his head ripped off, or Brady gets bitten? Then what?" she asks, her voice rising as she frets.
"That won't happen," I promise, but the words feel bitter on my tongue.
I'm in no place to make promises I can't keep, and we both know it. The platitude hangs heavily between us, an obvious falsehood that neither of us want to touch, though none of this conversation could ever be considered optional.
"I think…" she says quietly, pausing before she can finish the sentence.
The dread hits me before the rest of the sentence does, pure uneasiness coursing through the bond as potent as poison in my blood.
"...I need some space," she mutters, punctuating her statement with an uneasy breath. "I love you, and I shouldn't, because we hardly know each other - we don't know each other, not at all. And I told myself that I would be okay with it when it ends, because it'll end like everything else does, and today made me realise that I won't be okay. You left, and all I could think about was that today could've been the last time, and I'll always be terrified it'll be the last time and I'll have to lie through my teeth and tell everyone you got eaten by a fucking bear or something. I can't do that. Not with you. I'm sorry."
I can feel her pulling away from me before her body moves, a sudden wash of ice leaching away my previously sunny mood.
"We don't have to do this," I say slowly, desperation tempering my tone, but it's too late.
She steps back, struggling to yank my sweatshirt over her head. "I need you to go, Seth. I need to go to work."
"Can I call you after? Please?"
It's official. I have stooped to begging.
Jess pauses, her eyes not meeting mine. "I'll text you, okay?"
She opens the door, a silent gesture that says kindly get the fuck out of my house, and I have to think about the mechanics of every infinitesimal step to force my body back out into the cold, forcing myself to keep it together when the door clicks shut, a physical barrier that pales in comparison to the mental wall she's been building.
What foolish thing had I thought this morning, something about how all of this would work out in the end - how I could catch a vampire at eight and kiss my girlfriend at nine like I was Peter Fucking Parker?
Maybe Leah is right after all.
Maybe I am delusional.
A/N: Yes, there will be a happy ending. Yes, we are all going to suffer for it. C'est la vie. Reviews motivate this old work horse almost as much as caffeine.
This week in things that definitely, certainly happened:
Seth: Brady, can I talk to you for a second?
Brady: Yeah, what's up? Lemme guess. You and Jess are having problems and you want me to teach you how to kiss?
Seth: What? No, stop that. I know how to kiss. I've read books.