FIC: "Visit" (Changes, Part Ten) (Harry Sinclair/Jake Gyllenhaal)
Title: "Visit" 1/1
Authors: Brenda (azewewish) & Jo (idiosyncratic)
Series: Changes (Part Ten)
Pairing: Harry Sinclair/Jake Gyllenhaal
Rating: NC-17
Summary: Harry goes to see Jake.
Disclaimer: Vampires still don't exist. And we doubt that Harry and Jake have met, let alone are fucking each other. But you never know.
Notes: Originally written in 2006, revised in 2010.
Pleasure (Part One) | Discipline (Part Two) | Enthralled (Part Three) | Enslaved (Part Four) | Reciprocation (Interlude) | Arrogance (Part Five) | Simplicity (Part Six) | Reassurance (Part Seven) | Companion (Part Eight) | Watching (Part Nine) | Visit (Part Ten) | Vigilance (Part Eleven) | Welcome Home (Part Twelve) | Surprise (Part Thirteen) | Mechanics (Part Fourteen) | Casual (Part Fifteen) |
"Precious and fragile things
Need special handling"
-- Depeche Mode
Rain was still beating a steady tattoo against the windows when Jake stepped out of the bathroom, rubbing a towel through shower-damp hair, clad in an old t-shirt and his sweatpants. Atticus lifted his head, sniffed the air to make sure everything was alright, then went back to sleep, the puppy, Boo, snuggled against him in a tight cocoon. Jake couldn't say he blamed either of the dogs for taking it easy. If he weren't starving, he'd be tempted to curl up himself.
"Lazy things," he murmured, squatting to give them each a gentle scratch behind the ears. Two wet tongues rasped across his knuckles in response, and Boo yawned widely before curling up against Atticus once more. Jake chuckled, tossing the towel in the hamper, then heading into the kitchen. Time to see about a late dinner. Maybe a salad. Nothing too heavy. Not at this hour.
He fished a head of lettuce, a cucumber and some peppers out of the refrigerator and turned the radio on for company. The delicate strains of Chopin filled the air as he started mincing vegetables, and he hummed along absently. Maybe he'd look over the new scripts his agent had sent him while he was eating. Maybe a comedy might be something to explore - hell, he couldn't be indie boy or Maggie's younger brother forever...
"Hello, Jake."
The knife hit the cutting board a fraction of an inch from his fingers, and Jake yelped. It took a few seconds for the voice to register, and he had his back to the counter by the time it did.
"Jesus! You scared the hell out of me."
Full lips twitched in a slight smile. "Sorry."
"I don't think you are." Another dirty look, then Jake turned back to his partially fixed dinner. "And some watchdog you are," he grumbled in the general direction of Atticus, who was watching things with dark, sleepy eyes.
"We don't smell like humans do," Harry offered, with an elegant shrug. "Did I come at a bad time?"
"No, just...late night," Jake said, scooping the chopped vegetables into a bowl before setting the knife and board in the sink. "Are you hungry?" Wiping his hands on a towel, he looked -- really looked -- at Harry. And almost swallowed his tongue. Good Lord. Harry at the club had been hot. But this...the navy suit, crisp white shirt, tastefully understated tie... Jake wasn't at all surprised that all the blood in his body was making a mad scramble for his crotch.
"Thank you, I'm fine," came the low, polite reply. Harry's eyes twinkled in amusement, almost as though he could hear Jake's thoughts. Which, when Jake thought about it, he probably could. Not that it helped. "Although," Harry continued, "if you had any single malt, I wouldn't object to a drink."
Single malt? What...oh. Right. He turned to pull a glass from the cabinet, then rummaged around in another for the bottle of MacCallan that Orlando had suggested he buy.
"Are you sure you're alright?" When Jake turned, he was startled to see that Harry had stepped into the suddenly too small kitchen, taking up far too much room. As well as all of the oxygen.
Clutching the bottle in one hand and the glass in the other, Jake stared at Harry and tried to remember how to breathe. "I, uh..." He stopped, swallowed, tried again. "Are you always that quiet?"
"Usually." Gentle fingers brushed along the curve of Jake's jaw before Harry plucked the bottle and glass from Jake's unresisting hands. "Would you care to join me?"
All the air left Jake's lungs in a quiet huff. The light touch left his skin tingling. And while he knew he shouldn't drink on an empty stomach, it didn't stop him from nodding. "Sure."
He watched in silent appreciation as Harry deftly poured a healthy amount of scotch into the tumbler, noting the elegant taper to callused hands. It struck him, not for the first time, how little he knew about either Orlando or Harry (although he was learning more about Orlando every day, due to their varied mental conversations. Which Jake was still having a hard time getting used to).
"Please, don't let me keep you from eating," Harry said, and knocked back the shot in one swallow before pouring another. //This one we'll share.//
With quiet movements, Jake retrieved his salad and settled at the table. Before he could speak, Boo woke up and ambled over to flop at his feet with another huge, puppy yawn. "So what brings you by?" he asked, finally looking up at Harry, fighting the urge to lose himself in tawny eyes.
"I thought you might have some questions," Harry replied, following Jake to the table with the bottle and the glass. He scooped Boo up into his lap, and the puppy settled down with a contented whine. Jake tried not to be jealous of his own dog.
"He likes you," Jake said, watching as Boo pawed at Harry before curling up and closing his eyes. Then he speared a bit of lettuce and chewed slowly before shrugging. "Why me?"
"Direct, I like that," Harry said, and saluted Jake with his glass. "And you were chosen because of your fire. We're creatures of heat and passion, qualities you have in spades."
One eyebrow lifted as Jake chewed another mouthful. He swallowed, then gestured with his fork. "And you knew this without even talking to me?"
"I knew it the second I saw you. So did Orlando."
"Just like that, huh?"
"Just like that." Harry's lips curved into a small smile. "It's alright if you're skeptical, you know."
"You don't know the first thing about me," Jake said, fishing around in his bowl for a bit of cucumber.
"Oh, you'd be surprised at what I know."
"Oh?"
"Jacob Gyllenhaal, mortal, 25, one older sister, two parents still living, an actor of some talent - I rented 'Donnie Darko' by the way, it was very good - you take acting classes at the Eric Morris workshop on Wilshire, you like your coffee black, you're afraid that your sister will always overshadow you talent-wise, you just moved into this apartment, and that painting behind you was courtesy of an ex-girlfriend that you lived with for two years." Harry pushed his glass towards Jake with a small smile. "You're practical, stubborn to the extreme, have a passionate streak that you're only just now discovering, and you're also starting to feel very overwhelmed about the fact that you're involved with not just one, but two vampires."
All Jake could do was stare. He was sure his jaw was on the table. "You forgot Benjamin," he mumbled, when he could finally speak again, and promptly picked up the glass to swallow the contents.
"Only your mother calls you that, and only when she's angry," Harry smiled, but it was soft, kind. "Would you like another?"
"Please." The glass was thrust out, and Jake swallowed it all in one gulp. Then, with watering eyes, he looked at Harry. "How..."
"Part of it's research, part is how you tasted the night we were together, and the rest I can tell just by looking at you." Jake watched, fascinated, as Harry dropped a hand over his, covering it in comforting, warm weight. "We're not mortals, plentyn, for all that Orlando and I were, once. We see and feel things differently."
"So I see." Jake looked down at the hand covering his, then back up. "Neither one of you bit me that night."
"Nor will we. You're a companion, not a pet. You're with us as long as you choose to be, and not a minute longer."
"Orlando said he's a pet."
"Yes, he is," Harry answered, squeezing Jake's hand.
"So," Jake said, studying Harry again, fingers twisting to lace with Harry's as they lay on the table, "except for the fangs, how am I so different from him?"
"Well, you won't live as long as a pet, for one thing. Nor do you have any heightened senses, except that you are able to handle us sexually. You're still very much mortal. And your bond with us is a limited thing." Harry tapped the side of his head with his free hand. "You can communicate with us up here, but you can't sense our thoughts, where we are, our emotional state. Everything you're feeling is just you, no one else."
"That's a relief." Jake managed to smile at that, honestly glad the he no longer had to worry about confusing his feelings with those of Orlando or Harry. "I suppose it's safe to assume that you can sense all those things about me, however," he continued, untangling his hand from Harry's so he could take his now empty bowl to the sink.
"That has everything to do with what I am, not our bond."
Jake nodded, not having really expected anything else. When he turned to face Harry again, he leaned against the counter and raked one hand through still damp hair. "Orlando mentioned there are...four...of you."
"There are." Harry also stood, cradling the still sleeping Boo easily in the crook of his arm. "Are you wondering where you fit into that equation?"
"A little, yeah," Jake admitted, watching Harry's gentleness with the snoozing puppy.
"Wherever you'd like," Harry replied. "You're a man, Jake, not a party favor. Orlando and I aren't going to pass you around or use you."
"No, I know you won't. Free will and all that. My choice what I want to do."
"We don't take it lightly."
"I know you don't." Jake led Harry into the living room. He was pleased to see Atticus stroll after them and settle himself in front of the sofa. "You're not going to pin me against the wall, are you?" Jake asked, unable to resist a little teasing as he remembered something Orlando had told him.
Harry paused in the act of placing Boo back in his puppy bed, and gave Jake a faintly puzzled look. "Do you want me to?"
"Only if you promise you're not going to try to scare me to death like you did Orlando."
"Ah." Harry straightened, and now Jake could see amusement crinkling the corners of those remarkable eyes. "Did he neglect to mention how turned on he was at the time?"
"No, he mentioned it." A cheeky grin accompanied the words, and Jake sprawled on one end of the sofa. "Said he was terrified and turned on, and before he could figure out which he was supposed to be, there were two vampires trying to kill each other in front of him."
Harry laughed, low and rich, as he strolled towards the sofa. Remarkable how he made such a mundane act seem so insanely sexy. "Karl and I have done far, far worse to each other. Orlando exaggerates. Youth often does."
Jake tilted his head, looked up at Harry. So much grace and raw power and intensity. So much that Jake could practically taste it. It couldn't be just him - the pull was far too powerful. So why had Harry made no move towards him? "Don't you want me?" he asked, voice soft and smooth as he continued to watch Harry stand over him.
"I wouldn't be here if I didn't." Jake shivered a little as Harry's gaze raked over him. "I would think you wouldn't need to ask, given what happened last time we were together."
"You haven't touched me since you came in."
"You haven't invited me until now."
"Given what happened last time we were together, I didn't think I had to."
Harry chuckled, the sound low and rich, sending shivers up Jake's spine. "Spirit, I like that. Does this mean you have no more questions for me?"
"If I do, I'll ask."
Harry held out a hand. "Come here, then, and tell me what you would like."
Jake's hand slid over Harry's, was immediately enveloped in a warm grip. The calluses brushing his palm sent a spark of heat dancing across his nerves. "You," he replied, letting Harry pull him from the sofa.
"What would you like from me?" Delicate fingers, so at odd with Harry's powerful build and searching eyes, trailed along Jake's arm, teasing the light dusting of hairs. This close, Jake could breathe in the scent of earth and cloves, a scent that he'd already started associating with Harry. "Tonight is yours."
Jake stepped in, inhaled deeply as he nuzzled Harry's throat. "You're not acting at all like Orlando led me to believe."
"And what lies has he been telling you?" Harry asked, and Jake could hear the love and amusement in his voice. It made him wonder, just for a moment, what it would be like to be the recipient of a bond like theirs. But only for a moment. Right now, he had far too much to occupy himself, like that bit of skin right there under Harry's jaw.
Sharp teeth nipped warm skin, and Jake smiled at Harry's low growl. "Just that you overwhelm everyone," he said, fingers at work loosening Harry's tie.
"Is that what you would like?"
Jake looked at him as he slid the tie from around Harry's neck. "You don't frighten me."
"That wasn't what I asked." In an instant, Harry's eyes turned dark, filled with promise and Jake shivered again, wondering what he was getting himself into. Then even that thought failed as, without another word, Harry hauled him close, claiming his mouth in possibly the hottest kiss he'd ever had in his entire life.
It felt like every molecule of his body was incinerating from the inside out, like he'd burn to death, like Harry was sucking out his sou. And, fuck, but Jake never wanted him to stop. Firm lips coaxed his apart for a wickedly bold tongue, and all Jake could feel was Harry pressed tight against him, muscled body plastered to his; all Jake could taste was Harry, rich and dark on his tongue. Jake shuddered into the kiss, hands wrapped tight in the fine fabric of Harry's jacket. Hard to think, impossible to breathe, but he didn't care.
"Does that ease your mind about how much I want you?" The hand on Jake's back slid under the thin fabric of his t-shirt, started stroking the sensitive skin underneath. The touch would have been innocent, even comforting, if anyone else had been doing it.
"It's a good start." The cheeky grin was back, but even Jake could tell his hands were shaking as he smoothed Harry's lapels.
"Now..." Harry's voice was a low, seductive purr as he gently slid Jake's shirt off, tossing it to the carpet. "Tell me what else I can do for you."
Harry's jacket was pulled off, tossed on the sofa, and Jake set to work on his shirt buttons. "Why don't you surprise me?" He leaned in again, slipping one button after another free, and closed his teeth on Harry's earlobe.
For the second time in almost as many minutes, Harry yanked him forward, parting his lips with a brutal slide of tongue. Jake moaned into the kiss, frantically yanking Harry's shirt down sculpted shoulders, itching with the need to get his hands on what lay underneath. Two weeks ago, he had no idea who the hell Harry even was. Tonight, he knew that he was an addict.
Finally. His palms slid over warm skin, slipped through the soft covering of hair until one hand rested over Harry's heart. For every three beats of his, Jake could feel Harry's thud once against his fingers. Then sharp fangs grazed his tongue, not hard enough to hurt, but sharp enough to have him groaning softly.
"I like that sound." Strong, capable hands slid along Jake's sides until they curled at the loose waistband of Jake's sweats and started tugging. "Do you remember how sweetly you begged for me last time we were together?"
"You were driving me insane," Jake replied in an unsteady voice. His fingertips glided over Harry's chest, up across his shoulders.
"Oh, I think Orlando kept you distracted enough."
"Oh..." The word was a soft exhale, and Jake tilted his head, inviting further exploration. At Harry's gentle urging, he stepped out of his sweatpants.
"You looked so exquisite when he was fucking you, moaned so beautifully for me when I fucked you right there in the bathroom." Harry raked his fangs along Jake's pulse, delicate and light. "Will you moan like that for me again?"
Jake shuddered as he finished pulling on Harry's shirt, and moved forward, body rubbing against Harry's. "I might."
"Good." Harry's shirt dropped to the floor on top of Jake's, but Jake didn't pay it any attention. He was far more interested in getting at as much bare skin as he possibly could, in arching into the feel of Harry's hands running along his back and sides.
"Can you make me?" Jake asked, tongue curling along Harry's ear. Not smart to taunt a vampire, he knew that. But it didn't stop him.
"Is that what you want?"
Jake cast caution to the wind, raking his nails down Harry's chest. "Yes."
It was like Harry had been waiting for permission (and, Jake thought to himself later, he probably had). One second, they were in the middle of the living room, and the next, he was slammed against the wall, pinned in place by the weight of Harry's body as Harry surged forward, his mouth and tongue making a ravenous claim. The intensity of it all snapped through Jake, left him dazed. For a moment, all he could do was react. Then his brain caught up with his body, and he pushed back, tongue slipsliding along Harry's, hands moving over Harry's chest again.
//That's it, just like that...// And hearing Harry's seductive voice in his head had Jake whimpering into the next kiss before he could get his bearings. Before he remembered that he might be mortal, but he wasn't a pushover. And he had a feeling that Harry had enough sycophants in his life.
//Just like that, huh?// Jake grinned into the kiss, raked blunt nails down Harry's chest again. Then his fingers were fumbling with a belt and trouser fastenings while his tongue continued to duel with Harry's. He heard the rustle as Harry's slacks slid down, waited only long enough for Harry to step out of them before moving.
"Gifted hands," Harry growled, pushing Jake practically into the wall, hips bucking as Jake slid his palm over Harry's cock.
"I know a few tricks."
His fingers curled, slid up. Harry surged forward in a vicious, blinding kiss, and Jake once again felt the world tilt under him. He clutched tight to Harry's shoulders, ankles locked around solid hips as Harry pushed away from the wall, tongue tangling with Jake's in a wicked dance. Jake figured he might get tired of Harry's mouth in, oh, about a century.
"Hurry," Jake urged, teeth catching Harry's lower lip. Their cocks nudged against each other with every step, and the sensation sent shockwaves rippling up Jake's spine.
//Impatient. I like that.// Jake could feel Harry's grin just before Harry tossed him on the bed. He slid to the middle. "Top drawer." He watched Harry, one hand wrapped loosely around his cock. If Harry didn't hurry the fuck up...
He watched in silent hunger as Harry prepared himself, his cock glistening with lube, so thick and beautiful that Jake's mouth went dry. "Hurry," he muttered, voice thick with desire, shaking with need.
Harry knelt between Jake's spread thighs, a pagan dark god, full of power and grace. "Glandeg," Harry murmured, as he slid one finger, then two, in Jake's body.
"What?" Jake was surprised at how steady his voice was. His back arched, hips pushing down against Harry's hand, and he tried to remember what he'd been asking.
"Beautiful," and before Jake could protest that he wasn't, Harry slid inside him in one smooth thrust, thick and hard and so fucking perfect that Jake knew he'd die by the time Harry was done. "Move with me." It was a guttural command, and Harry pushed forward, hips flexing as he slid deep, then pulled almost completely out.
//Move with me// and Jake could feel Harry's voice deep in his blood, urging him on, even as he thrust forward, pushing Jake across the bed, moving, shifting, taking. Jesus Christ... It was easy enough to give in, to do as Harry commanded. Jake's body arched up, hips meeting each thrust, muscles tightening each time Harry pulled back. He could feel the muscles beneath his hands tightening in a different way, bunching with each shift of Harry's body, and the controlled power there was arousing beyond belief.
"Don't hold back," he commanded, tugging on the back of Harry's head to pull him down for a blistering kiss. He could feel Harry's fingers digging bruises into his hips, and he welcomed it, welcomed the hard slap of pain as he wrapped his legs tighter around Harry's waist. Twisted and moved and matched Harry thrust for thrust, meeting each demand with equal need.
They crashed together, hard, furious, and each slap of flesh on flesh was met by another low growl, another heated moan. Jake could feel his bones, his blood, fizzle and pop, tried desperately to hang on to even a small shred of control. Harry moved with him in perfect synchronicity, each thrust a brand of ownership. Jake raked nails along a sculpted back, ran firm teeth over a corded neck, making his own brand, marking his own territory. The scent of oil and sex and Harry filled his lungs, filled the air, until Jake was choking, but he kept pushing, wanted more, begged and demanded, please Harry c'mon do it...
When Harry reached between them to wrap a firm hand around Jake's cock, the last thread of his control snapped.
There was light and heat and Harry in his mind, and Jake had a split second of coherent thought. Then the world went white around him. His lashes fluttered, and Jake could practically feel Harry's amusement in the warm glow that surrounded him.
When he came to, the first thing bleary eyes focused on was the sight of Harry, still gloriously naked, sitting on the edge of the bed, washcloth in hand. "No'dead?" he mumbled, or thought he did.
"Not yet, no."
"Good." Jake tried to move. All he managed to do was flop one arm closer to Harry. The washcloth felt nice, warm, against his skin as Harry cleaned him up. "Thanks."
Harry tossed the washcloth aside and hauled Jake against him. Jake sighed happily into the warmth. "Does that about answer your question on being wanted?" Harry asked, and Jake could practically feel the smile against his forehead when Harry kissed him.
"Mmm..." Jake shivered a little as Harry's laugh rumbled through him. With a little effort, he managed to convince his muscles to work long enough to tangle their legs together.
"Trying to go to sleep on me?"
"Maaaaaybe." Jake snuggled in close again, inhaling the warm, musky scent of Harry's neck.
"Do you have any other questions I can answer for you?"
Jake was quiet for a moment, thinking. Well, as much as he was able to in the sluggish afterglow of possibly the best orgasm he'd ever had. Then he shook his head. "No' right now," and punctuated the words with a yawn as he rested his head on Harry's shoulder.
Harry's chuckle reverberated through his chest and Jake pressed closer to feel the vibrations. "Cheeky thing." Harry's voice was an affectionate hum. "If you do have any questions, I hope you know you can always come to me."
"S'what Orlando said," Jake mumbled, lashes drooping as he fought sleep.
"To come to me with questions?" Jake nodded, then smiled when Harry's arms tightened around him. "Good to see he's displaying good judgment." A soft kiss was brushed across Jake's forehead. "Get some rest. Then I'll wear you out again."
"Look forward to it," Jake said, voice thick and heavy. His eyes slid closed as he curled against Harry, and the slow thud of Harry's heart beneath his ear lulled him to sleep.
Onto Vigilance
Authors: Brenda (azewewish) & Jo (idiosyncratic)
Series: Changes (Part Ten)
Pairing: Harry Sinclair/Jake Gyllenhaal
Rating: NC-17
Summary: Harry goes to see Jake.
Disclaimer: Vampires still don't exist. And we doubt that Harry and Jake have met, let alone are fucking each other. But you never know.
Notes: Originally written in 2006, revised in 2010.
Pleasure (Part One) | Discipline (Part Two) | Enthralled (Part Three) | Enslaved (Part Four) | Reciprocation (Interlude) | Arrogance (Part Five) | Simplicity (Part Six) | Reassurance (Part Seven) | Companion (Part Eight) | Watching (Part Nine) | Visit (Part Ten) | Vigilance (Part Eleven) | Welcome Home (Part Twelve) | Surprise (Part Thirteen) | Mechanics (Part Fourteen) | Casual (Part Fifteen) |
"Precious and fragile things
Need special handling"
-- Depeche Mode
Rain was still beating a steady tattoo against the windows when Jake stepped out of the bathroom, rubbing a towel through shower-damp hair, clad in an old t-shirt and his sweatpants. Atticus lifted his head, sniffed the air to make sure everything was alright, then went back to sleep, the puppy, Boo, snuggled against him in a tight cocoon. Jake couldn't say he blamed either of the dogs for taking it easy. If he weren't starving, he'd be tempted to curl up himself.
"Lazy things," he murmured, squatting to give them each a gentle scratch behind the ears. Two wet tongues rasped across his knuckles in response, and Boo yawned widely before curling up against Atticus once more. Jake chuckled, tossing the towel in the hamper, then heading into the kitchen. Time to see about a late dinner. Maybe a salad. Nothing too heavy. Not at this hour.
He fished a head of lettuce, a cucumber and some peppers out of the refrigerator and turned the radio on for company. The delicate strains of Chopin filled the air as he started mincing vegetables, and he hummed along absently. Maybe he'd look over the new scripts his agent had sent him while he was eating. Maybe a comedy might be something to explore - hell, he couldn't be indie boy or Maggie's younger brother forever...
"Hello, Jake."
The knife hit the cutting board a fraction of an inch from his fingers, and Jake yelped. It took a few seconds for the voice to register, and he had his back to the counter by the time it did.
"Jesus! You scared the hell out of me."
Full lips twitched in a slight smile. "Sorry."
"I don't think you are." Another dirty look, then Jake turned back to his partially fixed dinner. "And some watchdog you are," he grumbled in the general direction of Atticus, who was watching things with dark, sleepy eyes.
"We don't smell like humans do," Harry offered, with an elegant shrug. "Did I come at a bad time?"
"No, just...late night," Jake said, scooping the chopped vegetables into a bowl before setting the knife and board in the sink. "Are you hungry?" Wiping his hands on a towel, he looked -- really looked -- at Harry. And almost swallowed his tongue. Good Lord. Harry at the club had been hot. But this...the navy suit, crisp white shirt, tastefully understated tie... Jake wasn't at all surprised that all the blood in his body was making a mad scramble for his crotch.
"Thank you, I'm fine," came the low, polite reply. Harry's eyes twinkled in amusement, almost as though he could hear Jake's thoughts. Which, when Jake thought about it, he probably could. Not that it helped. "Although," Harry continued, "if you had any single malt, I wouldn't object to a drink."
Single malt? What...oh. Right. He turned to pull a glass from the cabinet, then rummaged around in another for the bottle of MacCallan that Orlando had suggested he buy.
"Are you sure you're alright?" When Jake turned, he was startled to see that Harry had stepped into the suddenly too small kitchen, taking up far too much room. As well as all of the oxygen.
Clutching the bottle in one hand and the glass in the other, Jake stared at Harry and tried to remember how to breathe. "I, uh..." He stopped, swallowed, tried again. "Are you always that quiet?"
"Usually." Gentle fingers brushed along the curve of Jake's jaw before Harry plucked the bottle and glass from Jake's unresisting hands. "Would you care to join me?"
All the air left Jake's lungs in a quiet huff. The light touch left his skin tingling. And while he knew he shouldn't drink on an empty stomach, it didn't stop him from nodding. "Sure."
He watched in silent appreciation as Harry deftly poured a healthy amount of scotch into the tumbler, noting the elegant taper to callused hands. It struck him, not for the first time, how little he knew about either Orlando or Harry (although he was learning more about Orlando every day, due to their varied mental conversations. Which Jake was still having a hard time getting used to).
"Please, don't let me keep you from eating," Harry said, and knocked back the shot in one swallow before pouring another. //This one we'll share.//
With quiet movements, Jake retrieved his salad and settled at the table. Before he could speak, Boo woke up and ambled over to flop at his feet with another huge, puppy yawn. "So what brings you by?" he asked, finally looking up at Harry, fighting the urge to lose himself in tawny eyes.
"I thought you might have some questions," Harry replied, following Jake to the table with the bottle and the glass. He scooped Boo up into his lap, and the puppy settled down with a contented whine. Jake tried not to be jealous of his own dog.
"He likes you," Jake said, watching as Boo pawed at Harry before curling up and closing his eyes. Then he speared a bit of lettuce and chewed slowly before shrugging. "Why me?"
"Direct, I like that," Harry said, and saluted Jake with his glass. "And you were chosen because of your fire. We're creatures of heat and passion, qualities you have in spades."
One eyebrow lifted as Jake chewed another mouthful. He swallowed, then gestured with his fork. "And you knew this without even talking to me?"
"I knew it the second I saw you. So did Orlando."
"Just like that, huh?"
"Just like that." Harry's lips curved into a small smile. "It's alright if you're skeptical, you know."
"You don't know the first thing about me," Jake said, fishing around in his bowl for a bit of cucumber.
"Oh, you'd be surprised at what I know."
"Oh?"
"Jacob Gyllenhaal, mortal, 25, one older sister, two parents still living, an actor of some talent - I rented 'Donnie Darko' by the way, it was very good - you take acting classes at the Eric Morris workshop on Wilshire, you like your coffee black, you're afraid that your sister will always overshadow you talent-wise, you just moved into this apartment, and that painting behind you was courtesy of an ex-girlfriend that you lived with for two years." Harry pushed his glass towards Jake with a small smile. "You're practical, stubborn to the extreme, have a passionate streak that you're only just now discovering, and you're also starting to feel very overwhelmed about the fact that you're involved with not just one, but two vampires."
All Jake could do was stare. He was sure his jaw was on the table. "You forgot Benjamin," he mumbled, when he could finally speak again, and promptly picked up the glass to swallow the contents.
"Only your mother calls you that, and only when she's angry," Harry smiled, but it was soft, kind. "Would you like another?"
"Please." The glass was thrust out, and Jake swallowed it all in one gulp. Then, with watering eyes, he looked at Harry. "How..."
"Part of it's research, part is how you tasted the night we were together, and the rest I can tell just by looking at you." Jake watched, fascinated, as Harry dropped a hand over his, covering it in comforting, warm weight. "We're not mortals, plentyn, for all that Orlando and I were, once. We see and feel things differently."
"So I see." Jake looked down at the hand covering his, then back up. "Neither one of you bit me that night."
"Nor will we. You're a companion, not a pet. You're with us as long as you choose to be, and not a minute longer."
"Orlando said he's a pet."
"Yes, he is," Harry answered, squeezing Jake's hand.
"So," Jake said, studying Harry again, fingers twisting to lace with Harry's as they lay on the table, "except for the fangs, how am I so different from him?"
"Well, you won't live as long as a pet, for one thing. Nor do you have any heightened senses, except that you are able to handle us sexually. You're still very much mortal. And your bond with us is a limited thing." Harry tapped the side of his head with his free hand. "You can communicate with us up here, but you can't sense our thoughts, where we are, our emotional state. Everything you're feeling is just you, no one else."
"That's a relief." Jake managed to smile at that, honestly glad the he no longer had to worry about confusing his feelings with those of Orlando or Harry. "I suppose it's safe to assume that you can sense all those things about me, however," he continued, untangling his hand from Harry's so he could take his now empty bowl to the sink.
"That has everything to do with what I am, not our bond."
Jake nodded, not having really expected anything else. When he turned to face Harry again, he leaned against the counter and raked one hand through still damp hair. "Orlando mentioned there are...four...of you."
"There are." Harry also stood, cradling the still sleeping Boo easily in the crook of his arm. "Are you wondering where you fit into that equation?"
"A little, yeah," Jake admitted, watching Harry's gentleness with the snoozing puppy.
"Wherever you'd like," Harry replied. "You're a man, Jake, not a party favor. Orlando and I aren't going to pass you around or use you."
"No, I know you won't. Free will and all that. My choice what I want to do."
"We don't take it lightly."
"I know you don't." Jake led Harry into the living room. He was pleased to see Atticus stroll after them and settle himself in front of the sofa. "You're not going to pin me against the wall, are you?" Jake asked, unable to resist a little teasing as he remembered something Orlando had told him.
Harry paused in the act of placing Boo back in his puppy bed, and gave Jake a faintly puzzled look. "Do you want me to?"
"Only if you promise you're not going to try to scare me to death like you did Orlando."
"Ah." Harry straightened, and now Jake could see amusement crinkling the corners of those remarkable eyes. "Did he neglect to mention how turned on he was at the time?"
"No, he mentioned it." A cheeky grin accompanied the words, and Jake sprawled on one end of the sofa. "Said he was terrified and turned on, and before he could figure out which he was supposed to be, there were two vampires trying to kill each other in front of him."
Harry laughed, low and rich, as he strolled towards the sofa. Remarkable how he made such a mundane act seem so insanely sexy. "Karl and I have done far, far worse to each other. Orlando exaggerates. Youth often does."
Jake tilted his head, looked up at Harry. So much grace and raw power and intensity. So much that Jake could practically taste it. It couldn't be just him - the pull was far too powerful. So why had Harry made no move towards him? "Don't you want me?" he asked, voice soft and smooth as he continued to watch Harry stand over him.
"I wouldn't be here if I didn't." Jake shivered a little as Harry's gaze raked over him. "I would think you wouldn't need to ask, given what happened last time we were together."
"You haven't touched me since you came in."
"You haven't invited me until now."
"Given what happened last time we were together, I didn't think I had to."
Harry chuckled, the sound low and rich, sending shivers up Jake's spine. "Spirit, I like that. Does this mean you have no more questions for me?"
"If I do, I'll ask."
Harry held out a hand. "Come here, then, and tell me what you would like."
Jake's hand slid over Harry's, was immediately enveloped in a warm grip. The calluses brushing his palm sent a spark of heat dancing across his nerves. "You," he replied, letting Harry pull him from the sofa.
"What would you like from me?" Delicate fingers, so at odd with Harry's powerful build and searching eyes, trailed along Jake's arm, teasing the light dusting of hairs. This close, Jake could breathe in the scent of earth and cloves, a scent that he'd already started associating with Harry. "Tonight is yours."
Jake stepped in, inhaled deeply as he nuzzled Harry's throat. "You're not acting at all like Orlando led me to believe."
"And what lies has he been telling you?" Harry asked, and Jake could hear the love and amusement in his voice. It made him wonder, just for a moment, what it would be like to be the recipient of a bond like theirs. But only for a moment. Right now, he had far too much to occupy himself, like that bit of skin right there under Harry's jaw.
Sharp teeth nipped warm skin, and Jake smiled at Harry's low growl. "Just that you overwhelm everyone," he said, fingers at work loosening Harry's tie.
"Is that what you would like?"
Jake looked at him as he slid the tie from around Harry's neck. "You don't frighten me."
"That wasn't what I asked." In an instant, Harry's eyes turned dark, filled with promise and Jake shivered again, wondering what he was getting himself into. Then even that thought failed as, without another word, Harry hauled him close, claiming his mouth in possibly the hottest kiss he'd ever had in his entire life.
It felt like every molecule of his body was incinerating from the inside out, like he'd burn to death, like Harry was sucking out his sou. And, fuck, but Jake never wanted him to stop. Firm lips coaxed his apart for a wickedly bold tongue, and all Jake could feel was Harry pressed tight against him, muscled body plastered to his; all Jake could taste was Harry, rich and dark on his tongue. Jake shuddered into the kiss, hands wrapped tight in the fine fabric of Harry's jacket. Hard to think, impossible to breathe, but he didn't care.
"Does that ease your mind about how much I want you?" The hand on Jake's back slid under the thin fabric of his t-shirt, started stroking the sensitive skin underneath. The touch would have been innocent, even comforting, if anyone else had been doing it.
"It's a good start." The cheeky grin was back, but even Jake could tell his hands were shaking as he smoothed Harry's lapels.
"Now..." Harry's voice was a low, seductive purr as he gently slid Jake's shirt off, tossing it to the carpet. "Tell me what else I can do for you."
Harry's jacket was pulled off, tossed on the sofa, and Jake set to work on his shirt buttons. "Why don't you surprise me?" He leaned in again, slipping one button after another free, and closed his teeth on Harry's earlobe.
For the second time in almost as many minutes, Harry yanked him forward, parting his lips with a brutal slide of tongue. Jake moaned into the kiss, frantically yanking Harry's shirt down sculpted shoulders, itching with the need to get his hands on what lay underneath. Two weeks ago, he had no idea who the hell Harry even was. Tonight, he knew that he was an addict.
Finally. His palms slid over warm skin, slipped through the soft covering of hair until one hand rested over Harry's heart. For every three beats of his, Jake could feel Harry's thud once against his fingers. Then sharp fangs grazed his tongue, not hard enough to hurt, but sharp enough to have him groaning softly.
"I like that sound." Strong, capable hands slid along Jake's sides until they curled at the loose waistband of Jake's sweats and started tugging. "Do you remember how sweetly you begged for me last time we were together?"
"You were driving me insane," Jake replied in an unsteady voice. His fingertips glided over Harry's chest, up across his shoulders.
"Oh, I think Orlando kept you distracted enough."
"Oh..." The word was a soft exhale, and Jake tilted his head, inviting further exploration. At Harry's gentle urging, he stepped out of his sweatpants.
"You looked so exquisite when he was fucking you, moaned so beautifully for me when I fucked you right there in the bathroom." Harry raked his fangs along Jake's pulse, delicate and light. "Will you moan like that for me again?"
Jake shuddered as he finished pulling on Harry's shirt, and moved forward, body rubbing against Harry's. "I might."
"Good." Harry's shirt dropped to the floor on top of Jake's, but Jake didn't pay it any attention. He was far more interested in getting at as much bare skin as he possibly could, in arching into the feel of Harry's hands running along his back and sides.
"Can you make me?" Jake asked, tongue curling along Harry's ear. Not smart to taunt a vampire, he knew that. But it didn't stop him.
"Is that what you want?"
Jake cast caution to the wind, raking his nails down Harry's chest. "Yes."
It was like Harry had been waiting for permission (and, Jake thought to himself later, he probably had). One second, they were in the middle of the living room, and the next, he was slammed against the wall, pinned in place by the weight of Harry's body as Harry surged forward, his mouth and tongue making a ravenous claim. The intensity of it all snapped through Jake, left him dazed. For a moment, all he could do was react. Then his brain caught up with his body, and he pushed back, tongue slipsliding along Harry's, hands moving over Harry's chest again.
//That's it, just like that...// And hearing Harry's seductive voice in his head had Jake whimpering into the next kiss before he could get his bearings. Before he remembered that he might be mortal, but he wasn't a pushover. And he had a feeling that Harry had enough sycophants in his life.
//Just like that, huh?// Jake grinned into the kiss, raked blunt nails down Harry's chest again. Then his fingers were fumbling with a belt and trouser fastenings while his tongue continued to duel with Harry's. He heard the rustle as Harry's slacks slid down, waited only long enough for Harry to step out of them before moving.
"Gifted hands," Harry growled, pushing Jake practically into the wall, hips bucking as Jake slid his palm over Harry's cock.
"I know a few tricks."
His fingers curled, slid up. Harry surged forward in a vicious, blinding kiss, and Jake once again felt the world tilt under him. He clutched tight to Harry's shoulders, ankles locked around solid hips as Harry pushed away from the wall, tongue tangling with Jake's in a wicked dance. Jake figured he might get tired of Harry's mouth in, oh, about a century.
"Hurry," Jake urged, teeth catching Harry's lower lip. Their cocks nudged against each other with every step, and the sensation sent shockwaves rippling up Jake's spine.
//Impatient. I like that.// Jake could feel Harry's grin just before Harry tossed him on the bed. He slid to the middle. "Top drawer." He watched Harry, one hand wrapped loosely around his cock. If Harry didn't hurry the fuck up...
He watched in silent hunger as Harry prepared himself, his cock glistening with lube, so thick and beautiful that Jake's mouth went dry. "Hurry," he muttered, voice thick with desire, shaking with need.
Harry knelt between Jake's spread thighs, a pagan dark god, full of power and grace. "Glandeg," Harry murmured, as he slid one finger, then two, in Jake's body.
"What?" Jake was surprised at how steady his voice was. His back arched, hips pushing down against Harry's hand, and he tried to remember what he'd been asking.
"Beautiful," and before Jake could protest that he wasn't, Harry slid inside him in one smooth thrust, thick and hard and so fucking perfect that Jake knew he'd die by the time Harry was done. "Move with me." It was a guttural command, and Harry pushed forward, hips flexing as he slid deep, then pulled almost completely out.
//Move with me// and Jake could feel Harry's voice deep in his blood, urging him on, even as he thrust forward, pushing Jake across the bed, moving, shifting, taking. Jesus Christ... It was easy enough to give in, to do as Harry commanded. Jake's body arched up, hips meeting each thrust, muscles tightening each time Harry pulled back. He could feel the muscles beneath his hands tightening in a different way, bunching with each shift of Harry's body, and the controlled power there was arousing beyond belief.
"Don't hold back," he commanded, tugging on the back of Harry's head to pull him down for a blistering kiss. He could feel Harry's fingers digging bruises into his hips, and he welcomed it, welcomed the hard slap of pain as he wrapped his legs tighter around Harry's waist. Twisted and moved and matched Harry thrust for thrust, meeting each demand with equal need.
They crashed together, hard, furious, and each slap of flesh on flesh was met by another low growl, another heated moan. Jake could feel his bones, his blood, fizzle and pop, tried desperately to hang on to even a small shred of control. Harry moved with him in perfect synchronicity, each thrust a brand of ownership. Jake raked nails along a sculpted back, ran firm teeth over a corded neck, making his own brand, marking his own territory. The scent of oil and sex and Harry filled his lungs, filled the air, until Jake was choking, but he kept pushing, wanted more, begged and demanded, please Harry c'mon do it...
When Harry reached between them to wrap a firm hand around Jake's cock, the last thread of his control snapped.
There was light and heat and Harry in his mind, and Jake had a split second of coherent thought. Then the world went white around him. His lashes fluttered, and Jake could practically feel Harry's amusement in the warm glow that surrounded him.
When he came to, the first thing bleary eyes focused on was the sight of Harry, still gloriously naked, sitting on the edge of the bed, washcloth in hand. "No'dead?" he mumbled, or thought he did.
"Not yet, no."
"Good." Jake tried to move. All he managed to do was flop one arm closer to Harry. The washcloth felt nice, warm, against his skin as Harry cleaned him up. "Thanks."
Harry tossed the washcloth aside and hauled Jake against him. Jake sighed happily into the warmth. "Does that about answer your question on being wanted?" Harry asked, and Jake could practically feel the smile against his forehead when Harry kissed him.
"Mmm..." Jake shivered a little as Harry's laugh rumbled through him. With a little effort, he managed to convince his muscles to work long enough to tangle their legs together.
"Trying to go to sleep on me?"
"Maaaaaybe." Jake snuggled in close again, inhaling the warm, musky scent of Harry's neck.
"Do you have any other questions I can answer for you?"
Jake was quiet for a moment, thinking. Well, as much as he was able to in the sluggish afterglow of possibly the best orgasm he'd ever had. Then he shook his head. "No' right now," and punctuated the words with a yawn as he rested his head on Harry's shoulder.
Harry's chuckle reverberated through his chest and Jake pressed closer to feel the vibrations. "Cheeky thing." Harry's voice was an affectionate hum. "If you do have any questions, I hope you know you can always come to me."
"S'what Orlando said," Jake mumbled, lashes drooping as he fought sleep.
"To come to me with questions?" Jake nodded, then smiled when Harry's arms tightened around him. "Good to see he's displaying good judgment." A soft kiss was brushed across Jake's forehead. "Get some rest. Then I'll wear you out again."
"Look forward to it," Jake said, voice thick and heavy. His eyes slid closed as he curled against Harry, and the slow thud of Harry's heart beneath his ear lulled him to sleep.
Onto Vigilance