the portrait of complicity
Edward moves his left elbow backward, his umber eyes staring into Jacob’s. He’s already on his back, his clothing torn to shreds in sporadic parts of the forest they’ve ensnared themselves within. His body, cool and white as snow, is motionless, his legs only slightly parted. Anger and fear and lust are the only things he can think of. He tries to think beyond Jacob’s burning flesh and red lips. Beyond the muscles in his arms, the muscles in his chest, the ruby tongue that runs over his perfectly-aligned teeth. Edward’s chest, like porcelain, is as still as though he were a cadaver, his eyes never straying from his opposite. A low growl echoes from the back of Jacob’s throat as he makes another movement forward. And then he’s not thinking of anything at all, and Jacob’s hands are planted on his knees.
Jacob’s feral stance is only stressed when a low, threatening growl spills over his lips. Edward swallows hard and stares back, his gaze unfaltering. Edward decided long ago that Jacob was not going to win this struggle for power; not over Bella, and not over this. And then Jacob’s hands slide down, his body lurching forward, closing more of the space between them. Edward can feel his breath, humid and clammy, against his stomach.
He’s not even sure how it happened. How this happened. His thoughts of the boy had been contained before… contained to the hatred he’d formed as soon as they met. But the smell of the blood coursing through his veins, and the way he stared at him, piercing him, Edward caved. It was supposed to be once, and only once. But then Jacob was chasing him, and he was clawing at him, and then he was on his back.
Jacob’s lips slide down the inner-side of Edward’s thigh, saliva dripping down his cold, lifeless skin. Edward’s stare is angry, concerned. It’s as if his expression from before has been frozen on his statuesque features, forever etched into his perfect face. It makes Jacob grin.
And then there’s heat, heat like Edward’s never known, and Jacob is hovering above, and he’s moving forward, and Edward doesn’t know what to do anymore. Jacob’s chest against his own, knees knocking against each other as they struggle for control, struggle for the power. But Jacob wins. His legs kick Edward’s apart, and Edward falls back, his elbows giving way. There’s dirt in his hair now, and his eyes are golden.
Jacob’s lips blaze when they touch Edward’s, his tongue smashing through his stone lips. Edward can feel him smiling. His hands move outward, into the dirt, grasping handfuls of roots, twigs. Jacob’s body writhes on top of Edward’s, pinning him to the ground. His arms, strong as tree trunks, reach out and grasp Edward’s wrists, slide them upward. A snow angel in the soil.
Jacob pulls away, staring Edward down. And then his knees slide upward, piling dirt against Edward, anchoring his legs up, Jacob’s knees and Edward’s bare feet on the ground. Jacob’s cock is like fire against Edward’s skin, a spare hand reaching down to adjust himself. Edward is lifeless, empty. But no matter how he will deny it, there’s no fighting how much he wants it to happen. How much he wants Jacob to happen.
Jacob’s hand runs the length of Edward’s neck, up his jaw, through his hair, stays there. He stares into his eyes, and Edward feels him enter, and everything, everything stops. Jacob stops inside, his eyes closing as a grunt falls from his lips. Edward mimics him, his eyes shutting fast, pain ricocheting through his body. Jacob pulls out, Edward’s eyes open. Jacob’s don’t.
The pattern continues. Jacob pushes in as deep as he can, his body lurching forward, his lips sliding along Edward’s forehead. He pulls back, lips between Edward’s eyes. Edward watches, feels. His knees knock against Edward’s hips upon each thrust, each steady motion. His cock’s stiff, has been stiff, but he won’t acknowledge it. Jacob’s eyebrows knit together, each thrust pushing deeper than the one before. Edward can feel stones, branches in his back, can feel Jacob imprinting them into the skin. His head turns to the side, watching Jacob as pleasure twists his expression. It doesn’t hurt until he comes, hot and warm, pulling out quickly, looking down. Jacob’s hand moves to brush over himself. Edward’s eyes are closed again.
And then there’s warmth on his lips, and his eyes open. Fingers against his lips, wet fingers against his lips. Edward’s expression switches to bafflement, but he lets the boy part his lips, let’s the boy touch his tongue. When he tells him to suck, Edward obliges. And Jacob smiles.
He leans up quickly, sweat sticky and shining on his skin. Edward’s legs sprawl out around Jacob’s kneeling frame. And for a moment, Edward can see the frightened look in Jacob’s black eyes. Vulnerability, fragility. And then it’s gone. It’s gone, and his sneer forms again, and Edward closes his eyes.
Jacob’s feral stance is only stressed when a low, threatening growl spills over his lips. Edward swallows hard and stares back, his gaze unfaltering. Edward decided long ago that Jacob was not going to win this struggle for power; not over Bella, and not over this. And then Jacob’s hands slide down, his body lurching forward, closing more of the space between them. Edward can feel his breath, humid and clammy, against his stomach.
He’s not even sure how it happened. How this happened. His thoughts of the boy had been contained before… contained to the hatred he’d formed as soon as they met. But the smell of the blood coursing through his veins, and the way he stared at him, piercing him, Edward caved. It was supposed to be once, and only once. But then Jacob was chasing him, and he was clawing at him, and then he was on his back.
Jacob’s lips slide down the inner-side of Edward’s thigh, saliva dripping down his cold, lifeless skin. Edward’s stare is angry, concerned. It’s as if his expression from before has been frozen on his statuesque features, forever etched into his perfect face. It makes Jacob grin.
And then there’s heat, heat like Edward’s never known, and Jacob is hovering above, and he’s moving forward, and Edward doesn’t know what to do anymore. Jacob’s chest against his own, knees knocking against each other as they struggle for control, struggle for the power. But Jacob wins. His legs kick Edward’s apart, and Edward falls back, his elbows giving way. There’s dirt in his hair now, and his eyes are golden.
Jacob’s lips blaze when they touch Edward’s, his tongue smashing through his stone lips. Edward can feel him smiling. His hands move outward, into the dirt, grasping handfuls of roots, twigs. Jacob’s body writhes on top of Edward’s, pinning him to the ground. His arms, strong as tree trunks, reach out and grasp Edward’s wrists, slide them upward. A snow angel in the soil.
Jacob pulls away, staring Edward down. And then his knees slide upward, piling dirt against Edward, anchoring his legs up, Jacob’s knees and Edward’s bare feet on the ground. Jacob’s cock is like fire against Edward’s skin, a spare hand reaching down to adjust himself. Edward is lifeless, empty. But no matter how he will deny it, there’s no fighting how much he wants it to happen. How much he wants Jacob to happen.
Jacob’s hand runs the length of Edward’s neck, up his jaw, through his hair, stays there. He stares into his eyes, and Edward feels him enter, and everything, everything stops. Jacob stops inside, his eyes closing as a grunt falls from his lips. Edward mimics him, his eyes shutting fast, pain ricocheting through his body. Jacob pulls out, Edward’s eyes open. Jacob’s don’t.
The pattern continues. Jacob pushes in as deep as he can, his body lurching forward, his lips sliding along Edward’s forehead. He pulls back, lips between Edward’s eyes. Edward watches, feels. His knees knock against Edward’s hips upon each thrust, each steady motion. His cock’s stiff, has been stiff, but he won’t acknowledge it. Jacob’s eyebrows knit together, each thrust pushing deeper than the one before. Edward can feel stones, branches in his back, can feel Jacob imprinting them into the skin. His head turns to the side, watching Jacob as pleasure twists his expression. It doesn’t hurt until he comes, hot and warm, pulling out quickly, looking down. Jacob’s hand moves to brush over himself. Edward’s eyes are closed again.
And then there’s warmth on his lips, and his eyes open. Fingers against his lips, wet fingers against his lips. Edward’s expression switches to bafflement, but he lets the boy part his lips, let’s the boy touch his tongue. When he tells him to suck, Edward obliges. And Jacob smiles.
He leans up quickly, sweat sticky and shining on his skin. Edward’s legs sprawl out around Jacob’s kneeling frame. And for a moment, Edward can see the frightened look in Jacob’s black eyes. Vulnerability, fragility. And then it’s gone. It’s gone, and his sneer forms again, and Edward closes his eyes.