I've realized that my author's notes have the potential to become epic. I enjoy talking way too much. To keep them to a minimum, I've started a blog as a companion to OTT and any future projects. Please visit it here: starfish422(dot)blogspot(dot)com.
The Twilighted forums are bringing back their Smut Mondays feature; and introducing a new feature called Friday Free-For-All. A new one-shot or outtake of an existing story will be contributed each week, by a series of guest authors. I'm honoured to have been invited to contribute! Visit my blog for more info on the feature, as well as information on when my first story will be featured on the site.
The usual disclaimer: I own nothing. They own me, bbs.
-o-
Edward
I toss the asparagus with some olive oil and salt and pepper, getting it ready to go under the broiler as soon as the roasted potatoes come out of the oven. The steaks have been sitting out for about an hour, coming up to room temperature; and I've given them a nice coating of butter – there's truly nothing better to put on a steak just before it hits the grill pan, than butter and salt. Tonight I want to show Jasper that he's not the only one who knows his way around a kitchen – and show him my appreciation for everything we've been through in the past week.
I hear the key turn in the lock just as I'm taking the potatoes out of the oven and turning it up to broil. I close the oven door and turn to step out into the front hall; and we almost crash into each other in the kitchen door, as each rushes towards the other. He catches me around the waist and actually lifts me off the floor, swinging me around in a half-turn.
"Hello, beautiful!" he grins broadly. His delight is evident, and I share it gratefully.
"Hello, yourself!" I hug him back, holding tightly until my feet reconnect with the floor. Not releasing his grasp on my waist, he backs me up to the wall and dips his head slightly to kiss me deeply and passionately. My hands bury themselves in his thick blonde waves, caressing and stroking down to the back of his neck. Our tongues probe each other's mouths and his hips press into me, our hardening cocks grinding together. I let my hands drop to his waist, grab his belt and quickly turn us around so that he is the one backed into the wall, and I'm pressing eagerly against the length of his body. For a brief moment I wonder how much of a fire risk it really is if I leave the broiler on full blast, while we throw down right here in the hallway.
Eventually, though, I reluctantly pull away, leaving us both panting, supporting ourselves against the walls as we gaze at each other from opposite sides of the hallway. "Wow," he gasps, "that was a hello." I can only grin and nod. "So, why did we stop…?" He quirks an eyebrow at me, and starts to step towards me again.
"Because the oven is on and dinner will be ready shortly," I place my palms against his chest, stopping him before he can attack me again.
"It smells amazing," he compliments.
"Yep – steak, asparagus…roasted potatoes for you…"
"You didn't have to make potatoes just for me," he protests. "I would have been fine without them."
"Too late!" I dismiss his protests good-naturedly, as I return to the kitchen. "I enjoyed doing it – besides, you've never had roasted potatoes like these."
"That sounds like a challenge," he grins, following me. "I have to warn you – I'm a tough critic when it comes to food."
"Well, bring it on," I return. "I can take it."
"Mmmm," he murmurs, standing behind me and wrapping his arms around my waist, resting his chin on my shoulder. "I love how you take it."
"Aw, jeez," I groan. "And here I thought I was the one-track minded perv. But listen, enough of that for now – I've gotta get the asparagus in, and start the steaks."
"Where did this pan come from?" he asks, gesturing toward the cast-iron grill pan that's heating up on the stove.
"Don't touch!" I grab his hand back before he can take hold of the handle, which is already extremely hot. "I brought it from my place."
"You went home?" he asks, snagging a roasted potato from the pan.
"Yeah, as much as I enjoy wearing someone else's underwear," See? I can say it, "I thought maybe I should get a few of my own things."
"Right, and heaven forbid you go anywhere without a grill pan," he smirks.
"If you don't have a grill, a grill pan is the next best thing. You don't have one," I say as I put the asparagus into the oven. "I looked."
"Am I to understand that you were sticking your face in my drawers?" he murmurs in my ear.
"You told me to dig around till I found what I needed," I remind him, ignoring the double entendre as I put the steaks into the hot pan.
He sighs gently, realizing I'm not going to take the bait, and he reaches up to turn on the exhaust fan. "Okay, what can I do to help?" he asks.
"You can set the table," I suggest, leaning in to give him a quick peck on the lips, followed by my broadest smile.
He returns the smile; then turns to grab the plates, flatware and a couple of wine glasses, and heads to the dining room.
"Red wine?" he calls.
"Please."
A short time later, we're seated at the table, resuming our places from last night. Two large pillar candles flank the purple and white flowers. Dinner smells mouth-wateringly good, and just as I'm about to tuck in to my plate, Jasper lays a hand gently on my arm. I look up and he is smiling at me, his glass of wine poised in mid-air. I lift mine to meet his, and he begins to speak.
"Edward, when I moved to Seattle, I had a little fantasy that I might find you and maybe spend a night with you. That it could go from that fantasy, to this…" he gestures broadly with one graceful hand, "is more than I ever allowed myself to hope for. I can't tell you how happy I am to be here with you, and I'm looking forward to spending more time with you, learning all there is to know about you. I hope you want that too." He moves his glass to clink it against mine, and finishes simply, "Here's to us."
"Here's to us," I repeat. I take a sip of my wine, and then I lift slightly from my chair to place my hand on the back of his head and softly kiss his lips. Pulling back a bit, I whisper, "I want that too," and he smiles that dazzlingly wide smile. Seated again, I gesture at the food before us and say, "Shall we?"
-o-
After dinner – during which he concedes that the roasted potatoes are the best he's ever had – we retire to the couch for dessert. In the gas fireplace, the soft flames are gently licking upwards. I am sitting sideways on the couch, my legs stretching along the length of the seats. Jasper is seated between my legs, his back leaning against my chest. His head is leaning back against my shoulder, and I'm feeding him bits of the cheesecake he bought yesterday.
"Mmm," he purrs. "It's sweet." He licks the tip of one of my fingers; as I attempt to pull it back, he grabs it with his hand and sucks my entire finger into his mouth. After his tongue sweeps around my finger a few times, he lets go and moans, "Even sweeter." He turns his face toward mine and kisses me deeply, our tongues mingling together with the rich cheesecake. He pulls away and gasps, "And that's the sweetest."
He pushes his hip back into my groin, grinding it into my hardening cock. I groan loudly, abandoning the cheesecake plate on the coffee table. I grab his hips with my hands, and press into him, seeking greater friction against his delightful, muscular ass. He leans his head against my shoulder, reaching back to pull my head down towards his neck. Hungrily I suck and nibble his graceful neck; he groans and bucks backward into me. He turns over to face me, lying against the length of my body. And then, we make out.
We make out, just kissing and stroking and necking, fucking forever. Our hands move constantly – through hair, grazing faces, stroking arms, squeezing asses. When we finally pull away, Jasper's lips look red and swollen, and mine feel much the same. Still, I lick them seductively, tasting his sweetness on them, as he rises from the couch.
"Sit right there," he whispers, and disappears into his bedroom. He returns with a couple of blankets, two pillows, a box of condoms and a bottle of lube. He spreads one of the blankets on the floor before the fireplace and places the pillows at one end. The other blanket he places to one side. Then he holds his hand out to me.
"Come to me, beautiful," he beckons. I take his hand and he pulls me up to stand with him, then he leads me to the middle of the blanket. Our eyes remain locked as we undress each other, shedding our t-shirts, jeans and socks, and under things. Finally we are bare, the physical evidence of our desire fully manifest. He kneels on the blanket and indicates to me to do the same. Our hard, naked cocks touch, sending tremors of pleasure throughout my body. The flickering firelight mimics the dance of our hands as we explore and discover, travelling over every inch of the other's raw form.
"Lay on your back," I encourage him. He lies down, stretching his long frame across the blanket. His huge cock stands straight up, tempting me, demanding that I give it the attention it deserves; and I immediately comply. Opening my mouth wide, I take the beautiful head into my mouth, running my tongue along the glans and gently sucking just the head for several moments. Then, wetting my lips, I slide it further in, gradually increasing the depth until I have taken as much as I can. I regret that I can't take all of him in my mouth, but he simply has too much length. I wrap my hand around the base of his cock to bridge the excess, and slowly begin sliding my hand and mouth up and down.
I move so slowly at first that he is squirming, his hand clutching the blanket as he writhes with the exquisite pleasure. His mouth is in a constant state of vocal expression - he moans my name softly, over and over, along with assorted oaths and expressions of adoration. I speed up the pace, and increase the pressure inside the vacuum of my mouth, even though my already-sore lips are protesting. This is for Jasper. After everything he has done for me, this little bit of sacrifice pales in comparison. His pleasure is so worth it.
His vocalizations increase in volume with my accelerated pace, and his hips thrust involuntarily, seeking greater purchase within my hand and mouth. I happily provide what he's seeking, and he reacts by groaning loudly. His hands come to my head to move in harmony as I bob up and down the length of his cock. His release is close, and I suck even harder, knowing he'll soon be over the edge. I'm torn – I want to watch his beautiful face as his orgasm rocks him, but I don't want to risk releasing the pressure on his cock.
"Uhhh, beautiful, I'm gonna come," he gasps, and I decide that there will be other times for me to watch him – like when I'm hovering over him fucking his brains out. So I keep sucking him in, as deep as I possibly can. Soon he shouts, and his hips buck hard. His hot essence coats my throat and I swallow every drop. He moans, his body twisting and writhing as he hits peak after peak of intense pleasure.
Just as he starts to come down from his peak, I quickly release my hold on him. I grab a condom and slip it on, and quickly lube my cock and his beautiful ass. I press the head at his opening, and pause, waiting for his consent before I enter him. Sensing my hesitation, he opens his eyes long enough to make eye contact, and then wraps his legs around my ass, pulling me in. His moans intensify again as I push past the tight opening and quickly plunge my full length into him. He is so hot, so tight, and a tremor runs throughout my body, tingling my spine and curling my toes. I remain fully seated, my thighs pressing against his ass cheeks, for several long moments. The muscles in his ass clench and release, again and again, begging me to draw my length out and start fucking him in earnest. I hold my position, keeping him there as long as I can.
"Beautiful, please," he pleads. I only grin wickedly in reply. He reaches up to my nipples, grabbing, twisting them between his fingers, attempting to coax me.
"What do you want?" He looks so fucking hot right now, squirming, begging for me. "Tell me what you want."
"Uhh, I want you to fuck me!" he begs.
"You want it?"
"I need it, please, give it to me, oh please, I need it," he babbles, almost in a frenzy.
"Sure you do – look at your cock. I just made you come and you're fucking already hard for me again." And I love it.
"You're so fucking hot," he almost wails.
"You are," and with these words, I relent at last. I draw out almost completely, leaving only the head of my cock in his beautiful ass; and then I drive deep into him, making him cry out loudly as I finally give him what he craves. God, he's so beautiful, so beautiful; moaning and tossing his head from side to side in sheer delight, in utter abandon. I am doing this to him; I'm making him feel this way, as I push into him over and over. Minutes pass…or is it hours?...days?...and I fill him up – repaying him with all the emotion and passion he's given to me. And it's not just fucking – when both of us feel it so strongly, it can only be described as making love.
The realization that I'm making love for the first time in my life, makes me halt mid-stroke. His eyes pop open, questioning me. I lower my face to his and kiss him, deeply, passionately, pouring everything I'm feeling into him. His hands slide through my hair, stroking and gently tugging as he returns the kiss with equal fervor.
I whisper, "Are you close?" He nods against my face, panting with desire. "Then come with me," I urge, driving deep into him again. His cock is captured between our bodies, rubbing and pressing as we hold each other as close as two humans possibly can. Almost in unison, our orgasms take us and we ride our release together, exploding into bursts of white-hot flame and a thousand screaming voices. Again and again, we tumble through space, until at last we are reduced to two sweat-slicked, trembling bodies, clinging desperately to each other on a blanket, on the floor, in front of the fire.
I collapse on Jasper's chest, and together we gasp for breath, still clasping one another tightly. Long moments go by before I feel strong enough to push myself off of him and dispose of the condom. Returning to his side, I pull the second blanket closer in case we get chilled as the sweat cools us off. I hover over his face again, to place a long sweet kiss on his lips, and then I lay on my back, with my head resting on his stomach, my feet pointing toward the fire.
And for a long time, we just lie in silence. He strokes my hair. We watch the always-dancing, never-changing fire in the gas fireplace. Eventually he pulls the blanket over me, and over him up to his waist, but otherwise we don't move. Just enjoying being together.
In the peaceful silence, I try to work through the thought of making love. Of course I never pictured myself being that boy – I seldom even let the same boy touch me twice. But even I can't deny that it is, indeed, what happened to me tonight. And I wonder what this means about me, about Jasper; about our relationship. I can't honestly say yet that I'm in love with him…I don't even know what being in love means. Can a person make love without being in love? I've had sex with hundreds, probably thousands of boys; but when it comes to making love, I am the next best thing to a virgin.
So I can only do what any virgin does – wing it. And hope that my clumsy efforts will be understood for the good intention behind them.
As I reach this conclusion, the angel's voice drifts gently towards me. "You're awfully deep in thought, beautiful. Anything you want to share?"
I want to tell him – I will tell him – but not yet. Not tonight. So instead I ask him something else that occurred to me today, during dinner when he used his term of endearment for me, "beautiful".
"Where did you get your name from?" I ask, still gazing at the fire.
"My name…?" he repeats blankly.
"Jasper. Is it a family name?"
"Oh," he replies, sounding somewhat thrown. "Uh…yeah, it is. My dad is Jasper Harris Whitlock the Third. I would have been a Fourth, except my parents were good enough to give me a different middle name."
"Really? What is it?" I ask, curious.
"Bauer," he replies. "My mother's maiden name."
"Bauer," I repeat. "That's German, right?"
"Yeah, her parents immigrated here from Germany shortly before my mom was born. Her father died when she was little, but my grandmother was alive till a few years ago," he answers.
"How did the Jasper name get started on your dad's side?" I persist.
"Well, my dad says that my great-great-grandmother liked the name because of the Bible story of the Three Wise Men who came to visit after Jesus was born. The Church gave them the names of Gaspar, Balthasar and Melchior. Jasper is a form of Gaspar. Damn lucky for me that she didn't take a shine to Balthasar!" he chuckles. "But, you're very curious tonight – why all the questions about my name?"
"Well," I answer, rolling onto my side and sliding up beside him, to rest my head on his shoulder, "I was thinking about the name you use for me. The truth is--" I drop my eyes, feeling self-conscious, "I love it when you call me beautiful."
His head turns toward me and he plants a soft kiss on my forehead. "I can't help it – it's the first word that comes to my lips every time I look at you," he murmurs.
The grin that takes possession of my face is unstoppable - slightly idiotic, I'm sure. "I'd like to give you a name as well…but the word I think of…well, I'd feel silly…" I trail off, already feeling painfully bashful that I'm about to tell him my word.
He smiles and leans in a little closer, curious. "Really? What is it?"
"It's 'angel'," I whisper, closing my eyes in embarrassment. For a long moment I hear nothing, so I venture to open my eyes, and he is gazing at me in wide-eyed astonishment.
"You call me 'angel'?" he gapes, and I nod.
"Well…" he is almost lost for words, "I don't know what to say. No one has ever called me 'angel'."
"It's your hair – it's like a golden halo...I can't help it. That's the first word I think of," I volunteer.
"Wow," he smiles sweetly. "Thank you."
"That being said," I interject, "I'm not sure…for everyday use…you know, out in public…?" God, don't make me say it.
He chuckles, understanding my drift immediately. "No, I suppose not."
I press on, "I did have an alternative in mind, though."
"Okay," he says and waits for me to continue.
I lift myself up slightly to prop my chin up on his chest. "What do you think of…Kas? I read that it can be used as a short form for Jasper. I know it's not a typical term of endearment…but it would just be yours and mine."
He raises himself now onto his elbow, displacing me from his chest, so I match his posture. "Mine and yours…and my Oma's," he smiles. "That was what she called me, from the day I was born."
"Oh," I reply, somewhat disappointed. He won't want to use the special name his grandmother gave him. "Well, it was just a thought. I can think of something else."
"No, you're misunderstanding me," he corrects. "I don't want anything else. No one else ever called me that. I haven't heard it since Oma died, and I miss it. And – you chose it for me, not even knowing it was already a special name. It's perfect – I wouldn't change it for anything."
His words make me feel weightless. Congratulations, Edward, you've finally gotten something right. I may be practically a virgin, but perhaps my instincts aren't as quite as horrible as I thought. Maybe there is hope for me yet.
"So," his words cut into my thoughts, "want to try it out?"
I stand and hold my hand out to him as he did to me earlier this evening. He takes hold and I pull him up to stand before me, wrapping my arms around his naked waist. "I believe it's time for bed, Kas," I whisper, looking into his twinkling green eyes.
"Mmmm, I love it," he murmurs.
"The name, or the suggestion?" I tease.
"Both!" he answers, and leans in to press his lips gently to mine. And as the sweetness of the kiss envelops us, I realize that, without any forethought or consent, my eyes have gently fluttered…closed.
-o-
Bbs, I don't mind telling you that this chapter made me hot and bothered. I may have acquired a Unicorn© during the writing of this chapter. Well, okay…two.
I have a couple of story recommendations on my blog – one is a brand-new slash fic, and the other is an utterly sweet ExB pairing that needs some love. Please check them out.
As always - please, please review.
© AngstGoddess003