A/N: These slashy drabbles were written in collaboration with YogaGal for ahizelm's birthday, cuz we love her. And I wanted to do something a little different.

IMPORTANT TO UNDERSTANDING THE ARC: Yoga wrote the first drabble, playing with Edward and then bmango took on Jasper for the second, etc etc. Each drabble alternates between author/POV.

Big thanks to theladyingrey42 for beta-ing.

Smoke

"What did I tell you motherfuckers about smoking right in front of the shop?" I growl at the teens who use my brick wall for their hangout.

The haze of cheap cigarette smoke clings to me as I unlock the door, and I wonder if there's a spare shirt in the back. Trying to calm my pissy attitude, I grab the client schedule from the front desk and see what I have lined up for the rest of the night. A few of the names look familiar - repeat clients. But there's one that I know I haven't seen before.

.

Bubbling

As the end of my workday approaches, I keep an eye on the ticking second hand, my anxiety reaching new levels with each moment.

When I made the appointment, I'd been completely confident, my finger tracing the lines of the sketch. This is my promise, a vow I hope to never break.

I glance up at the clock again - only two minutes have passed. Once more, I push down the bubbling nervousness in my stomach, willing myself to calm.

Finally, the clock reads five and I am out of my office and in my car, pulling off my tie as I go.

.

Room

I'm in the back room, finishing off my third tat of the afternoon. The first two were easy. Good customers who sat there and let me do my work. This one? I'm already counting down the minutes till she's gone.

The perfume she's wearing makes the already small room feel suffocating, and she won't shut the hell up. I try my best to tune her out, focusing on the design in front of me.

Finally, it's done. I put on a smile while she shrieks and coos over her new butterfly, then dash out, escaping the room as quickly as possible.

.

Chocolate

An hour and a few errands later, I've finally managed to settle my nerves. Although, as I approach the building, the trepidation slowly builds once more.

I take a few deep breaths and remind myself that, for once, I am doing something for me. It's a step in the right direction for my new life of happiness.

I even almost believe the shit I'm thinking. I sigh and take the last bite of the chocolate bar I brought, stuffing the wrapper in my pocket. My hand wraps around the door handle, and I pause, taking a deep breath.

And I pull.

.

Help

After waving goodbye to Butterfly Girl, I hop up on the stool behind the counter and flip through a magazine until my next appointment shows up. It's been a slow day, so besides me, only Angela is in the shop. I sent her out a few minutes ago to run some errands.

I'm starting on a new article when I hear the bells on the door chime. Looking up, I see a guy enter looking scared shitless.

Newbie.

But then, he looks up.

Fuck. Me.

I cross my fingers that he's my next appointment and finally speak.

"Can I help you?"

.

Fantasy

Bells tinkle overhead as I enter the tattoo parlor and I keep my eyes on the floor, steeling myself for what I'm about to do.

But then there's this voice, the gravelly tone straight from my fantasies, asking me the most ordinary question. I glance up quickly and meet vibrant green eyes staring directly into mine, and my shaking and stuttering simply fade away.

He's fucking beautiful.

"I'm Jasper Whitlock," I finally force out. "I have an appointment?" I want to bang my head on the counter as the last statement exits my mouth as a question.

Smirking slightly, he beckons me forward.

.

Name

"Jasper, eh?" I say, raising an eyebrow. "Interesting name."

He blushes, and his flushed skin looks fucking edible. I wonder how hot it will feel under my fingers. I watch as he shifts back and forth, unsure of how to answer.

Putting him out of his misery, I stick out my hand.

"Edward Cullen. And you are mine."

His eyes widen at my words and I can't help but chuckle. Maybe I'm pushing him too far, but when his tongue darts out to lick his full lips, I can't be bothered to care.

"My next appointment," I clarify with a wink.

.

Book

My mouth stops working as the inked man, Edward he had called himself, continues to talk. Tongue dry, I can only reach into my pocket, pulling out the well-worn notebook and opening it wordlessly.

I step up to the counter and he leans forward, his fresh scent at odds with the dark ink on his arms, and I breathe deeply as he bends over the paper.

"Th-th-this..." I swallow hard and try again. "This is what I want."

He looks up at me sharply. "You drew this sketch?"

I nod, hoping I can stay true to the words on the paper.

.

Smooth

"Not bad."

What I really want to say is that it's a breath of fresh air from the stale, overdone tattoos I've been doing lately. It's not often that a client's sketch excites me. The intricacy of the words will look incredible done up in ink, and I can't wait to start.

My fingers move over the smooth paper, tracing the letters and envisioning them on Jasper's skin.

"Follow me," I grunt, leading him back towards where I work.

I motion for him to get comfortable in the leather chair while I make a stencil.

"Now. Where do you want it?"

.

Stripes

I knew where the tattoo would go before I had even finished the design.

I want the words "Trust In Myself" to lie directly over my heart, the ambigram a unique way of presenting the text and also ensuring that I can read it.

I lean forward, holding his gaze, and start unbuttoning my blue pinstriped shirt, shedding the last remnant of my required work attire before settling back in the chair once more.

"Here," I say as calmly as possible.

He stares intently into my eyes for a beat or two before glancing down at my finger and my bare chest.

.

Yearn

When he unbuttons his stuffy work shirt to show me where he wants the tat, I have to grip the bottle of ink that's in my hand so I don't inadvertently reach out and touch his skin. A glint of silver peeks out and I almost swallow my tongue when I realize the dude is pierced.

Mother. Fucker.

Something deep inside me yearns to feel him, and then suddenly I can't handle it anymore, and my hand is on his chest. Even through the thin latex of my gloves I can feel the smooth expanse of skin, hot under my fingers.

.

Heat

His fingers spreading across my skin sends a spike of heat through my chest, piercing dark places that have yearned for this touch.

I look up at him wondering if he feels my heart race, but his gaze stays steadfast on my skin.

"I'll shave the area, and then place the stencil," he says calmly, professionally.

I take a deep breath as he smooths his hand across my chest before efficiently removing the few pale hairs with a razor followed by a soapy cloth. He places the stencil with sure hands and then holds a mirror, smirking again at my approving nod.

.

Melody

The stencil on, I work quickly but efficiently. The steady hum of my gun forms a calming pace that guides me as I bring Jasper's sketch to life across his chest.

As I work, small grunts, sighs and even a moan spill from his slightly parted lips, providing the melody to the rhythm of the tat gun. I carefully fill in the letters that I've outlined, wiping away excess ink and small drips of blood from Jasper's firm chest.

His eyes are closed for the most part, but every so often he opens them, his piercing blue eyes capturing my gaze.

.

Skin

There is a steady burning, brushing on uncomfortable, but not quite entering into the realm of pain.

Edward's hands press against my chest, the heat penetrating through his gloves and searing me just as permanently as the ink that is etched into my skin.

The burn and his touch are almost too much, and I bite my tongue to stifle a moan as I grip the chair and close my eyes. I can't remember when I was this turned on from simple touch, and I don't want it to end.

Too soon he's leaning back, examining his work.

"Ready?" he asks, eyebrow arching.

.

Scotch Whiskey

I hold my breath as he takes it in, examining my work in the mirror. While I want my clients to like what I do, there's something about Jasper that makes me hope he loves it.

His silence kills me, so I turn around and grab a bottle of scotch whiskey that I keep in the cabinet. Jasper was my last appointment, so having a drink now won't kill me. I pour myself two fingers and take a slow sip, allowing the amber liquid to burn down my throat.

While I wait, I notice that I subconsciously took out another glass.

.

Rough

I run my fingers over the red and black skin, loving the clean lines of the script across my chest. I turn slowly, finding Edward sipping whiskey from a glass, another waiting on the counter.

"Care for a drink?"

"Actually, that sounds perfect." I accept the glass, taking a sip, the rough, smokey fire complimenting the burn in my body and my skin.

He licks his lips, and I have the urge to taste the whiskey in his mouth, knowing his flavor will only enhance it. Swallowing hard, I look back into my half-full glass, attempting to gather my flagging courage.

.

Fuzzy

Before Jasper has finished his first, I've already downed a second glass and am sipping a third. The small room we're in feels even smaller all of a sudden, especially as Jasper moves closer towards me.

I want to say something...but my mind is all fuzzy thanks to the whiskey. My tongue twists even further when I feel the heat of Jasper's arm. He's moved to lean against the counter, his body now flush against mine.

"Another?" he asks, holding out his glass. "Please."

I realize that I'll have to reach across his body to grab the bottle.

I oblige happily.

.

Glisten

With my glass refilled, I gulp the whiskey, trying to calm myself internally.

Come on, Jasper. This is right. Trust yourself.

Taking one more deep breath I turn to him and find him already gazing intently at me, his green eyes clear and almost beckoning. His tongue slowly wets his lips, and his glistening, red mouth is impossible for me to resist any longer.

I lean in, feeling his warm, sweet smoky breath fan across my face, and then there is only heat. Our lips touch, my hand wrapping around his bicep as I hear the clink of his glass hitting the counter.

.

Edge

The whiskey is forgotten as Jasper's lips capture mine. My hands come up to cup his face, giving me a better hold on him. He feels so soft beneath my rough fingers, and I stroke his cheek as our lips taste and tease each other.

We kiss until I'm forced to breathe, but I don't move far. I pull back so that our lips are touching, but I'm still able to take a deep inhale. With my exhale, I move my hands down to Jasper's pants and pull him closer by his belt loops, taking us both toward the edge.

.

Eager

I fall into him, eagerly jumping into the unknown with him like I have too many times before. It's only the twinge of pain as my chest brushes his that brings me back to reality.

I take a small step back, worried that this is one-sided, this feeling of rightness.

He looks at me curiously and touches my cheek.

"You want me?" he asks, a certain vulnerability crossing his face.

I touch my chest, my message clear. "Yes," I answer. "With everything."

"Everything," he repeats smiling, eyes dancing.

Gently this time, he pulls me into our second kiss - our first of many to come.