Be Your Pagan Angel...
Title: Be Your Pagan Angel
Author: raingoddess2040
Character(s): Jacob Black, Edward Cullen
Fandom(s): Twilight
Rating: FRM
Warning(s): slash, angst, mentions of mental instability
Spoiler(s): None, this is an AU.
Disclaimer: I don’t own it, which means you can’t sue me.
A/N: Written a while ago for the twislash_100 drabble meme.... Just getting around to posting here.
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The apartment he lived in was a dump, mostly because he let it get that way, so he took him somewhere else - a motel. It's not like he could fight him anyway, or even that he would. He hadn't been imagining all the stares from across the room. He knew how he looked and knew how to use it, but so did many others. Unlike them, he never played fair, especially when it came to getting what he wanted. And Jacob Black, also and better known as Blaze, was exactly what he wanted.
The beautiful boy - man - god! - on his t.v. screen and pasted all over his wall was his even if he hadn't known it. It hadn't taken long to find the one particular bar he liked to visit and insinuate himself among the barely clad masses. All the pretty little boys flaunting themselves flaunting themselves like the easy prey they were. Blaze was a hunter and was put off by their little ploys. Most would have taken because they were there for the asking, but not his hunter, not his man, he was too much for them - his rebel sun, shining his fierce light in the dark universe.
It had been entirely too easy to ensnare his hunter's senses, much attributed to all the little ones trying to regain his minimal attention. Just a tip of a bit of the tranquilizers he'd never been willing to take and his wolf had been a puppy following him home. It had been a bit difficult getting him up the stairs and onto the bed, but tying people up was something he'd perfected a long time ago.
His boy, his beautiful boy had woken groggy and confused, but his blessed voice had gasped and cried out at the sight of an 'angel' before him. It would have been foolish not to have played the part, at least for a while. Unfortunately, he hadn't been able to play the part for long because his man's senses returned sharp and fierce and he wasn't falling for pretend anymore.
He would have let him go, but the danger and the secrecy toke hold and he couldn't be stopped. His Blaze had been laying beneath him - a slave to his mercy. The blade had looked to right against his dark skin. He had asked his captive, "Do you think I'm pretty? Do you the think I'm crazy? Don't, please. I love you."
And his boy had replied perfectly - so much like a dream, "No, you're beautiful. Not crazy - just dangerous. I like it. I'd like it more if this were real."
And then he'd woken up, drenched in sweat, clutching a blade - not by it's handle and wearing a bracelet he'd only ever seen on t.v.