Im gonna give you folks a bit of a heads up right about now, this story is based off some real events and with a whole bunch of other stuff thrown in. I tend to write how I talk, and I write the people how they spoke as well, so the language is raw, and often grammatically incorrect, none of these folks had a Masters of English, they were khaki collar. The smut doesn't last forever, but it went down hot and heavy pretty early on and developed from there. It was a force of nature.

I have recruited a couple of Betas to talk me down when I start freaking out about putting this out there, and they are trying to keep my grammar under control.

Absolutely no disrespect is meant by any characterizations.

Chapter 2

Emmet was elected to handle the apartment renting detail the morning Jasper had to go get his fingerprint card re-done down at the sheriffs department, it seems that due to the scars on his hands from an injury he got in the Corp, his prints were difficult to read and a Captain at the department had left a message on Jaspers phone telling him he wanted them redone. Jasper parked his old Chevy truck at the far end of the parking lot at the station under the few shade trees that could be found and he stepped out into the sweltering morning more than a little aggravated and slightly intimidated. He had only been up to the main station once before, and that was with Emmet. Though he was used to the odd looks that they got from those who didn't know them, Jasper was still self conscious about the attention his accent and his size got him and without Emmet and his congenial nature around to deflect the attention away, Jasper was nervous.

Knowing he had no other choice now that he was actually there and the rattlingly loud dual exhaust of his old truck had drawn the attention of those standing out smoking on the front sidewalk, he had to make the walk up to front doors and accomplish what he had set out to do. The men and women congregated in the smokers exile by the front entrance gave him a variety of appraising looks as he approached, not unlike a pack of schoolyard toughs waiting for a new kid to get close enough for them to figure if he were cool enough to pass the muster. A man with a face that only a mother could love, and only then if that mother was a gargoyle, flicked his cigarette towards Jaspers boot and growled," What do you need boy, visiting hours at the jail aren't until 1300 hours" Jasper looked at him, considering if he was worth the hassle he knew was coming once he spoke, but as he looked past the gargoyle and saw the man leaned up against the wall behind the rest of them, he knew he wasn't going to walk away without at least finding out who he was and why he made his heart race unlike anything he had ever felt in his entire life.

Jasper looked at gargoyle and saw the stripes on the mans sleeves and realized that the man who was bracing him was a Sgt, so he unconsciously came to a form of attention and answered the man with as little of his drawl evident as he could, "Im sorry ,Sir, I am not here for visiting hours, I am here to have my prints redone per a Captains request for academy admittance." Silence followed by guffaws greeted Jaspers statement, and gargoyle approached until he was right up in Jaspers face. "What the hell do you mean calling me SIR?, boy? I work for a living, and where the hell are you from?" "I am from Texas' Sgt" Jasper inwardly cringed, he knew what was coming next, ever since "Full Metal Jacket" came out and every tin pot drill Sgt, in the world had seen it, the minute he answered "Texas", the dreaded, "There are only two things that come from Texas, steers and queers and I don't see no horns" line was sure to follow, usually by the even better, "I thought everything from Texas was BIG?" Jasper had given up fighting over those lines, and he simply just either ignored them or replied with. " If you are asking me on a date, the Corp wont be happy." and "If you need me to show you how much bigger things from Texas are, I can but that is probably going to make the Corp want to open a Don't ask don't tell investigation against you." Both statements often provoked fights and Jasper was tired of fighting, but he wasn't going to be seen as a punk in front of the man leaning against the wall. Sure enough the gargoyle went with the dreaded, "Steers and Queers" line and Jasper decided that he had nothing to lose so he leaned towards the gargoyle and smiled as he said, "Well Sgt. If you are asking me on a date, I guess that is relevant, but im sorry, you really aren't my type." The crowd erupted in laughter as the gargoyles face turned multiple shades of red and his jaw clenched. Jasper knew a fight was brewing so he took a step back as the crowd started to disperse to give them room. " You little shit! You pissant son of a bitch! Im gonna kick your scrawny, faggot, ass back to where you came from!" Jasper answered the gargoyle, "Sgt, I assure you that I mean no offence, I just want to get my prints done and go about my business." The gargoyle was fixing to swing at him, Jasper could see it coming a mile away and he looked helplessly at the other officers standing around them. The man leaning against the wall was working hard to not completely fall down laughing, but he managed to step forward and catch hold of the gargoyles shoulder and lean down and whisper something into his ear. The gargoyle immediately froze and stopped his ranting, growled "10-4"at the man and just like that he abruptly turned and went into the building, leaving a confused and relieved Jasper standing on the sidewalk with the bemused man as the other smokers scattered into the building.

Jasper could do nothing but gape at the man before him. He was tall, as in 6'4 tall so Jasper had to look up to look into the hazel eyes that were smiling down at him. The high cheekbones and strong jaw were graced by a pair of dimples that Jasper thought he could have drowned in. The mans hair was cut in the standard military high and tight, but it was a reddish brown and just long enough on top that Jasper could tell it was curly when it was allowed to grow out. The face had a light smattering of freckles across the cheeks and the mans fu manchu mustache framed full lips that were smiling at him.

Jasper did not consider himself a handsome man. He knew he was short, and his features went to the delicate side of things, but girls seemed drawn to his green eyes and his smile that they had assured him was, "Panty dropping" though much to their chagrin, he really wasn't into dropping panties by the time he hit his Sophomore year of high school. He tried, after all, in Texas that is what a young man was supposed to want to do, and with his wavy, dark, dirty blonde hair, his charisma, his lean and cut body that made him a natural athlete, he was supposed to be scoring on and off the football field, but he just felt like he was on the outside looking in. He threw himself into his music and he found a small circle of friends that seemed to be just as much of an outsider as he was, the "Artsy" kids. When he told his parents he wanted to participate in theater instead of sports, his father didn't want to hear it, in fact it was the start of their coming apart as a family. Jasper wasn't sure what he was at that time, but his father already had a label for him and he told him that he wasn't having that in his house, so at the age of 15 Jasper was sent to live with friends in the hope they could, "Work the queer out of him." He spent the next 3 years, shuffled amongst friends and family, treated as the families dirty little secret until he was old enough to legally make his own decisions. He still didn't know what or who he was, and ever impulsive, and needing a place to call home since his family was no longer an option, he joined the Marines. He knew that being in the military and under the auspices of the "Don't ask Don't tell" rules, he could not explore his undeniable attraction to men and in a way hoped to suffocate it.

The man standing in front of him left Jasper feeling like a pole-axled ox. He felt as if every bit of air had been sucked out of his body and he could only hear a whistling sound. It took a moment for it to register that the man was extending a hand towards him, Jasper stared at it and then quickly but self-consciously grasped the mans hand back. Shaking hands with the man was breathtaking. Jasper could feel the calluses on the mans fingers and the sheer size of the mans hand compared to his left him feeling like he was in the land of giants. "What's you're name Marine?" the mans voice had a deep timber with a mid-western twang to it that caught Jaspers attention. Jasper quickly answered him, "Jasper Whitlock, sir. May I ask to whom I'm speaking?" With his next words, the man destroyed any hope Jasper had of building any kind of relationship with him, "Captain Edward Cullen at your service. I guess I am the one that created all this commotion for you this morning by needing better copies of your prints."