We Could Have Had Paris - Lost - Esau/Jacob
Title: We Could Have Had Paris
Pairing: Esau/Jacob
Word Count: 1918
Rating: NC-17
A/N: Written with a prompt for 10_per_genre, and to celebrate the opening of itonlyendsonce. Yay!
Summary: Esau tries to tempt Jacob into letting him leave the island. Jacob is finding it incredibly difficult to resist.
There are days when they feel like trapped tigers, circling each other in a grimy cage.
They are living at too close quarters, watching with nervous eyes as time trickles by: endless, always endless. Jacob enjoys the sun on his skin and the waves around his ankles, but the sense of foreboding in the pit of his stomach won't leave him alone.
Esau doesn't sleep.
Jacob can't explain how he knows this, but he feels it. When he retires into his statue to rest during the night, he knows that Esau roams: Esau is at home in the darkness. He belongs to it. Even as he sleeps, Jacob can feel him outside, pacing restlessly, yearning for a life beyond the ocean. It has to be stopped. He has to be held back. Jacob twists and turns as he sleeps, dreams wandering further than even Esau can imagine. For Jacob, the world is his playground; for Esau, it is the land behind the wall.
When he leaves the statue in the morning, Esau is waiting. He's right by the door and Jacob has barely taken a step outside before he finds himself grabbed by the front of his shirt and then pushed back hard against the stone wall. Esau's weight holds him there, but Jacob doesn't attempt to get away from him. He leans passively against the wall and smiles: they both know that Esau can't harm him. His temper will fizzle out and lead to nothing. "Good morning, Esau," he says. "How was your evening?"
Esau's answer is a pair of fingers stroked against Jacob's neck, finger nails dragging lightly at his skin. It makes Jacob swallow. His breathing shortens.
"Let's go to Paris," Esau says. His eyes are a shade of blue that Jacob has never seen before. It is something that does not exist in nature. "Right now. Let's go."
It's unexpected enough to make Jacob pause, an uncertain laugh in the back of his mind. "You know I can't do that." Centuries have been devoted to keeping the world safe from Esau's presence; he has spent just as long trying to convince Esau that the world is worth saving. People are worth saving.
With every single person he brings to the island, he begins to doubt it a little bit more.
They fight, they fuck, they kill. They destroy.
Sometimes, when Jacob sees the mess left behind, a quiet voice in the back of his mind might just wonder whether or not Esau is right after all.
"They've just finished building something they're calling the Eiffel Tower," Esau says. "I heard your latest darlings talking about it. Sounds impressive."
"I've heard it is," Jacob agrees. He's starting to feel trapped here, pinned against the statue. He feels captured. "But I still can't take you."
"What better way to convince me of the worth of mankind than to show me their greatest achievements?" Esau argues. It's almost logical. His hand slips down to rest on Jacob's hip; there is no longer any force upon it. Jacob could slip away at any moment. He doesn't. Esau's voice is too hypnotising. "We can get a hotel room with a view. We can fuck on a balcony over-looking the Tower."
Jacob coughs in a most undignified manner; Esau has always known how to surprise him. He would never have expected this.
The smile on Esau's face is unmistakeably wolfish as he watches Jacob with shark-smart eyes. His hands are still on Jacob's hips and he is still crowded into Jacob's personal space - and Jacob should push him away. He needs to leave.
He can't.
"Don't act so surprised, Jacob. It's what you've been waiting for all these years, isn't it?" And it is, it might be, but thinking of it isn't the same as expecting it to happen. With the venom Esau shoots at him, Jacob had always known that the secret, private thoughts he had would forever remain an impossibility. Esau grins. "Would you want to top or bottom?" he asks.
Jacob's mouth is dry. He wants to believe that this isn't happening. He never woke up; he is still dreaming. Esau is scheming and dangerous. No word he says can be trusted. Yet Jacob enjoys his company and wisdom, and he needs a kindred soul. There is no one else in the world who could understand who he is and what he has seen. There is no one else that he wants to understand it with him.
He holds his tongue, frozen, until Esau begins to pull away, defeated. Jacob reaches to grasp onto Esau's hands, holding them still on his hips. "Top," he rasps. He has to clear his throat. "I'd want to top."
"Of course you would," Esau answers, smirk reappearing. He steps closer once more, pushing right into Jacob's space. Jacob can smell him, smoke and salt. He closes his eyes, the scent of Esau filling his senses. "You want to put me in my place, don't you, remind me who's boss around here... I've never been taken before. You'd be my first."
The words are murmured close to Jacob's ear, filling his mind with images he should banish. Esau's voice is low and husky, promising a world of sin if Jacob surrenders to him. He can see it all: the plush hotel room, the open windows, the sunny balcony. French food and wine, sights to see, eternity to spend exploring an ever-changing society. He'd spread Esau out before him whenever he wished, his to mark and claim however he wanted.
"My first time," Esau muses aloud, one hand sliding up Jacob's side from his hip. Jacob shivers, unable to restrain himself. His eyes remain closed. "Would you go easy on me, take it slow: make love? Or would you hold me down and fuck me, make sure I'll be feeling it for days?"
In civilised cultures, Jacob thinks that it must be illegal to corner a man and speak to him like this: he can feel himself hardening in his trousers, dick reacting to the words coming from Esau's lips, the images he's conjuring up. He wants it all. Everything.
"Answer me," Esau insists. "Hard or soft?"
Jacob licks his lips, feeling them dry and cracked. Being around Esau makes him feel parched. "Hard," he whispers. He can see it too well in his mind's eye. "I want it to be hard."
Esau answers with a quiet, approving moan that makes Jacob's cock twitch inside the loose confines of his trousers. "Yeah, teach me a lesson," he murmurs, with his hand slipping onto Jacob's chest. Through the material of his shirt, Jacob can feel the sharp bite of his finger nails over his nipple. "Make me ache."
"Make you mine," Jacob corrects, and the words tingle on his lips as he says them. There's something true there, something fundamental - primal. He needs to tame Esau, bend him to his will and break him. It breaks his heart to have such destructive urges but he can't stop himself. Doesn't even want to.
As thoughts of bare skin and sweet mouths contaminate his mind, Jacob grabs hold of Esau and turns them around. He pushes him back against the side of the temple, one leg thrusting between Esau's thighs. Esau is as hard as he is, pressed firm against him. Jacob's hands grip on tightly to Esau's upper arms, holding him as if he might collapse into sand at any second.
It takes him a moment to gather his nerves. Looking upon Esau, he finds him calm and composed, his smirk ever-present on his lips. Jacob's eyes linger there. Pale pink and self-satisfied, Esau's mouth is fascinating. Jacob has heard filth and hatred pour forth from it, but also wisdom, and also wit. Behind Esau's mouth are all the thoughts that Jacob could never hope to understand but always strives to disprove. He's failing; he's always been failing.
There's an angry clench of nerves in his stomach when he leans in to kiss Esau, lips brushing at first before he presses more firmly. This feels more dangerous than any argument or fight they've ever had. He can feel the puff of Esau's breath against his lips and the quiet surrender when he opens his mouth. Heat greets him when Jacob's tongue pushes inside, and the sound of Esau's moan vibrates throughout his entire body.
He can't stay focused - he wants everything at once - and it isn't long before his attention filters down from Esau's mouth, lips scanning his jaw, his cheek, his ear lobe, until he lands on Esau's neck. His teeth latch on, leaving dark indents, and he sucks at the skin with the intention of leaving a mark behind. On his tongue he can taste sea salt and the wildness of the jungle: this is what the island tastes like. This is darkness itself.
Esau's hand cups the back of his neck, but it isn't until he digs his nails in, sharp and jagged, that Jacob realises that he is trying to make him pull back.
It takes a world of strength, but Jacob does it. His heart pounds in his ears and his vision feels blurred. He can't focus, but Esau's words help to cut through the haze.
"Paris," Esau says, and reality starts to bite. "Take me off of this rock and you can do whatever you want."
There is an aching pain in his chest, striking in its intensity. "Don't do this," Jacob pleads. He'll whine if he has to, even beg; he'll throw away all traces of pride. To have the promise of surrender and intimacy dangled and then taken away, it introduces him to Esau's cruelty and manipulation in a first-hand way. It has always been inflicted upon their playing pieces before, upon the poor souls he brings to the island. It has been one step removed, always.
"It's your choice," Esau says, resting passively against the side of the statue even though Jacob no longer has the strength to hold him there. "Let me go, Jacob. We could run together."
Jacob knows his duty: he has to protect the world at large. His desires will always be a second-level concern. "You know I can't," he forces himself to say, regretting every syllable.
He allows himself to hope, blindly, that Esau will say it doesn't matter: it's not important. They could retire inside the statue, with candle-light and warm blankets. There would be no need to emerge for days and Jacob could convince Esau that this island really is a paradise.
The smirk on Esau's lips says that that really isn't going to happen.
With his hands on Jacob's hips once more, Esau guides him back. Jacob doesn't resist at all, not even when Esau steps away from him. "I guess you'd better take care of that yourself, then," he says, with a downward flick of his eyes that makes Jacob painfully aware of the erection straining in his trousers. He swallows and holds his tongue, unable to say a word in case he loses control altogether. He doesn't know what might come out; it's rare that he can't be completely in charge and calm in a situation, but it's no surprise that Esau is the one that will be his undoing. "See you around, Jacob."
As Esau trudges along the beach, a certain happy bounce in his step, Jacob takes the opportunity to slip back inside the statue to hide from the world in general. He rushes through fire-lit passageways, leaving the sun behind him: if he touches himself in the darkness, with images of Esau and Paris in his mind, no one is to know. Frantic and furious, his breath rasping in the silence, there will be no one to hear him when he curses Esau's name.
Alone, he pants in hazed confusion. All that he has learned today is that Esau can never be trusted.
Pairing: Esau/Jacob
Word Count: 1918
Rating: NC-17
A/N: Written with a prompt for 10_per_genre, and to celebrate the opening of itonlyendsonce. Yay!
Summary: Esau tries to tempt Jacob into letting him leave the island. Jacob is finding it incredibly difficult to resist.
There are days when they feel like trapped tigers, circling each other in a grimy cage.
They are living at too close quarters, watching with nervous eyes as time trickles by: endless, always endless. Jacob enjoys the sun on his skin and the waves around his ankles, but the sense of foreboding in the pit of his stomach won't leave him alone.
Esau doesn't sleep.
Jacob can't explain how he knows this, but he feels it. When he retires into his statue to rest during the night, he knows that Esau roams: Esau is at home in the darkness. He belongs to it. Even as he sleeps, Jacob can feel him outside, pacing restlessly, yearning for a life beyond the ocean. It has to be stopped. He has to be held back. Jacob twists and turns as he sleeps, dreams wandering further than even Esau can imagine. For Jacob, the world is his playground; for Esau, it is the land behind the wall.
When he leaves the statue in the morning, Esau is waiting. He's right by the door and Jacob has barely taken a step outside before he finds himself grabbed by the front of his shirt and then pushed back hard against the stone wall. Esau's weight holds him there, but Jacob doesn't attempt to get away from him. He leans passively against the wall and smiles: they both know that Esau can't harm him. His temper will fizzle out and lead to nothing. "Good morning, Esau," he says. "How was your evening?"
Esau's answer is a pair of fingers stroked against Jacob's neck, finger nails dragging lightly at his skin. It makes Jacob swallow. His breathing shortens.
"Let's go to Paris," Esau says. His eyes are a shade of blue that Jacob has never seen before. It is something that does not exist in nature. "Right now. Let's go."
It's unexpected enough to make Jacob pause, an uncertain laugh in the back of his mind. "You know I can't do that." Centuries have been devoted to keeping the world safe from Esau's presence; he has spent just as long trying to convince Esau that the world is worth saving. People are worth saving.
With every single person he brings to the island, he begins to doubt it a little bit more.
They fight, they fuck, they kill. They destroy.
Sometimes, when Jacob sees the mess left behind, a quiet voice in the back of his mind might just wonder whether or not Esau is right after all.
"They've just finished building something they're calling the Eiffel Tower," Esau says. "I heard your latest darlings talking about it. Sounds impressive."
"I've heard it is," Jacob agrees. He's starting to feel trapped here, pinned against the statue. He feels captured. "But I still can't take you."
"What better way to convince me of the worth of mankind than to show me their greatest achievements?" Esau argues. It's almost logical. His hand slips down to rest on Jacob's hip; there is no longer any force upon it. Jacob could slip away at any moment. He doesn't. Esau's voice is too hypnotising. "We can get a hotel room with a view. We can fuck on a balcony over-looking the Tower."
Jacob coughs in a most undignified manner; Esau has always known how to surprise him. He would never have expected this.
The smile on Esau's face is unmistakeably wolfish as he watches Jacob with shark-smart eyes. His hands are still on Jacob's hips and he is still crowded into Jacob's personal space - and Jacob should push him away. He needs to leave.
He can't.
"Don't act so surprised, Jacob. It's what you've been waiting for all these years, isn't it?" And it is, it might be, but thinking of it isn't the same as expecting it to happen. With the venom Esau shoots at him, Jacob had always known that the secret, private thoughts he had would forever remain an impossibility. Esau grins. "Would you want to top or bottom?" he asks.
Jacob's mouth is dry. He wants to believe that this isn't happening. He never woke up; he is still dreaming. Esau is scheming and dangerous. No word he says can be trusted. Yet Jacob enjoys his company and wisdom, and he needs a kindred soul. There is no one else in the world who could understand who he is and what he has seen. There is no one else that he wants to understand it with him.
He holds his tongue, frozen, until Esau begins to pull away, defeated. Jacob reaches to grasp onto Esau's hands, holding them still on his hips. "Top," he rasps. He has to clear his throat. "I'd want to top."
"Of course you would," Esau answers, smirk reappearing. He steps closer once more, pushing right into Jacob's space. Jacob can smell him, smoke and salt. He closes his eyes, the scent of Esau filling his senses. "You want to put me in my place, don't you, remind me who's boss around here... I've never been taken before. You'd be my first."
The words are murmured close to Jacob's ear, filling his mind with images he should banish. Esau's voice is low and husky, promising a world of sin if Jacob surrenders to him. He can see it all: the plush hotel room, the open windows, the sunny balcony. French food and wine, sights to see, eternity to spend exploring an ever-changing society. He'd spread Esau out before him whenever he wished, his to mark and claim however he wanted.
"My first time," Esau muses aloud, one hand sliding up Jacob's side from his hip. Jacob shivers, unable to restrain himself. His eyes remain closed. "Would you go easy on me, take it slow: make love? Or would you hold me down and fuck me, make sure I'll be feeling it for days?"
In civilised cultures, Jacob thinks that it must be illegal to corner a man and speak to him like this: he can feel himself hardening in his trousers, dick reacting to the words coming from Esau's lips, the images he's conjuring up. He wants it all. Everything.
"Answer me," Esau insists. "Hard or soft?"
Jacob licks his lips, feeling them dry and cracked. Being around Esau makes him feel parched. "Hard," he whispers. He can see it too well in his mind's eye. "I want it to be hard."
Esau answers with a quiet, approving moan that makes Jacob's cock twitch inside the loose confines of his trousers. "Yeah, teach me a lesson," he murmurs, with his hand slipping onto Jacob's chest. Through the material of his shirt, Jacob can feel the sharp bite of his finger nails over his nipple. "Make me ache."
"Make you mine," Jacob corrects, and the words tingle on his lips as he says them. There's something true there, something fundamental - primal. He needs to tame Esau, bend him to his will and break him. It breaks his heart to have such destructive urges but he can't stop himself. Doesn't even want to.
As thoughts of bare skin and sweet mouths contaminate his mind, Jacob grabs hold of Esau and turns them around. He pushes him back against the side of the temple, one leg thrusting between Esau's thighs. Esau is as hard as he is, pressed firm against him. Jacob's hands grip on tightly to Esau's upper arms, holding him as if he might collapse into sand at any second.
It takes him a moment to gather his nerves. Looking upon Esau, he finds him calm and composed, his smirk ever-present on his lips. Jacob's eyes linger there. Pale pink and self-satisfied, Esau's mouth is fascinating. Jacob has heard filth and hatred pour forth from it, but also wisdom, and also wit. Behind Esau's mouth are all the thoughts that Jacob could never hope to understand but always strives to disprove. He's failing; he's always been failing.
There's an angry clench of nerves in his stomach when he leans in to kiss Esau, lips brushing at first before he presses more firmly. This feels more dangerous than any argument or fight they've ever had. He can feel the puff of Esau's breath against his lips and the quiet surrender when he opens his mouth. Heat greets him when Jacob's tongue pushes inside, and the sound of Esau's moan vibrates throughout his entire body.
He can't stay focused - he wants everything at once - and it isn't long before his attention filters down from Esau's mouth, lips scanning his jaw, his cheek, his ear lobe, until he lands on Esau's neck. His teeth latch on, leaving dark indents, and he sucks at the skin with the intention of leaving a mark behind. On his tongue he can taste sea salt and the wildness of the jungle: this is what the island tastes like. This is darkness itself.
Esau's hand cups the back of his neck, but it isn't until he digs his nails in, sharp and jagged, that Jacob realises that he is trying to make him pull back.
It takes a world of strength, but Jacob does it. His heart pounds in his ears and his vision feels blurred. He can't focus, but Esau's words help to cut through the haze.
"Paris," Esau says, and reality starts to bite. "Take me off of this rock and you can do whatever you want."
There is an aching pain in his chest, striking in its intensity. "Don't do this," Jacob pleads. He'll whine if he has to, even beg; he'll throw away all traces of pride. To have the promise of surrender and intimacy dangled and then taken away, it introduces him to Esau's cruelty and manipulation in a first-hand way. It has always been inflicted upon their playing pieces before, upon the poor souls he brings to the island. It has been one step removed, always.
"It's your choice," Esau says, resting passively against the side of the statue even though Jacob no longer has the strength to hold him there. "Let me go, Jacob. We could run together."
Jacob knows his duty: he has to protect the world at large. His desires will always be a second-level concern. "You know I can't," he forces himself to say, regretting every syllable.
He allows himself to hope, blindly, that Esau will say it doesn't matter: it's not important. They could retire inside the statue, with candle-light and warm blankets. There would be no need to emerge for days and Jacob could convince Esau that this island really is a paradise.
The smirk on Esau's lips says that that really isn't going to happen.
With his hands on Jacob's hips once more, Esau guides him back. Jacob doesn't resist at all, not even when Esau steps away from him. "I guess you'd better take care of that yourself, then," he says, with a downward flick of his eyes that makes Jacob painfully aware of the erection straining in his trousers. He swallows and holds his tongue, unable to say a word in case he loses control altogether. He doesn't know what might come out; it's rare that he can't be completely in charge and calm in a situation, but it's no surprise that Esau is the one that will be his undoing. "See you around, Jacob."
As Esau trudges along the beach, a certain happy bounce in his step, Jacob takes the opportunity to slip back inside the statue to hide from the world in general. He rushes through fire-lit passageways, leaving the sun behind him: if he touches himself in the darkness, with images of Esau and Paris in his mind, no one is to know. Frantic and furious, his breath rasping in the silence, there will be no one to hear him when he curses Esau's name.
Alone, he pants in hazed confusion. All that he has learned today is that Esau can never be trusted.