Title: Crude Oil
Author: reve2weaver
Pairing: Edward, Jasper
Rating, Disclaimer, and appropriate Warnings: M, for language, sex, violence, sexual violence intimated, drug use, off season hunting.
Word Count: 9,981

Please see all entries at community/Slash_Backslash_3_0/74941/14/0/1/

If Edward wasn't driving at a crawl, he couldn't see where he was going. "Emmett said for sure this was the last shipment?" The windshield wipers scrape away the thick snow tunneling towards them.

Jasper turns his head away to look out at the lake as snow fans across in gusts and buffets their huge truck. He yawns before he says once again, "That's what he told me. He's leaving for Venezuela, Edward. What can he do?"

Edward pinches the thick hairs on his eyebrow. After a while, their headlights reveal a rusty garage door, buried by a twenty foot bank of snow. As the door grinds up, the thick wall of ice and snow remains in place.

"You're not...?" Jasper stomps his foot down, but no brakes resist under his Doc Martens. "Don't!"

Edward gleefully floors it. Surging forward into a blinding explosion of white, Edward brakes on instinct and the truck glides to a stop inside his garage.

"Thanks for the warning, Edward." Jasper growls as he pulls his fingers from the dashboard.

Edward pulls on his black ski mask, and then jams his smoke back in his lips. "You're welcome."

"Tell me why the hell I let you talk me into this again?" Jasper doesn't expect an answer.

They usually get a nice hotel room, but two nights ago over the phone; Edward said there was a change of plans. Things had been heating up, and it was too risky, and he insisted they come here. After ten years, they're back at Moonshine Lake.

As they stagger through the thigh-high snow, their labored breath frosts their eyelashes like white mascara. They drag a toboggan between them, leaving a track like a beast with a heavy tail, or a cock.

After unlocking the heavy padlock, Edward pauses and first looks over his shoulder, and then at Jasper. After heaving his burly shoulder into frozen plank door a couple times, Jasper helps him until they stumble together into the cold and the dark cabin.

Thirteen cursed minutes later, Jasper's warming his frozen ass against a snapping fire. The old walls groan as the extremes of heat and cold push on the chinking of the rough-hewn logs, as Jasper listens to Edward moving around in the kitchen in his moccasins. He tries to gauge his moody silence and what their chances are of surviving this weekend.

All he hears is hissing as snow melts in chipped-enamel pots and his rapid chopping as Edward makes them dinner; he isn't the type to whistle or hum.

He's always great like that: never apologizing or intimidated, despite Jasper being an award winning, high-end restaurateur.

That might be part of the problem, Jasper thinks sourly as he pulls out his smokes.

A well-known local personality in Edmonton, Jasper's often quoted in the local media with his sexy, confident smile, while young servers and chefs-in-training whip about in the background. He's out and mentors the city's gay youth, sponsoring a program that gets kids off the street.

Less well known is that is Jasper Whitlock happens to be a sought-after top to those seeking some discipline in their lives.

Not that Edward gives a shit. He keeps his smoke in his lips while he hotly blows on his fingertips sticking out of his fingerless gloves.

You'd think a man with his high-profile reputation, as well as his masters in Philosophy, wouldn't be in this sorry state of affairs. He's had therapists quit on him because of this ongoing 'thing' with Edward 'Red' Cullen.

It's not for the money, or the high-grade hash, or the notoriety, although Jasper likes them more than he cares to admit. It's the old unfinished business.

"Hungry, Jasper?" Edward's voice calls from the kitchen.

"Starving, man."

What do you think, Edward? Ever look at your ass in a mirror?

Rubbing his stubble in his reflection in the darkened window, he frowns. Mirrors are tricky things to see when your own self-image is distorted; Jasper learned that the hard way.

He often wonders what Edward saw when he got up the nerve and made a move on Jasper those ten years ago. Turns out, they were both liars; no wonder things went to hell so fast.

Who knows what that hulking, russet-haired roughneck was thinking when he strolled into Jasper's bar three years ago. Jasper couldn't believe he was staring at 'the one' that got away, and by the way he boldly held Jasper's eyes, it was clear he was back for more.

Drinks were definitely on the house.

Jasper blithely accepted Edward's risky business proposal over the next weeks, and Edward certainly saw through Jasper's eagerness on that front. Of course, Jasper still had his agenda. How could Edward ever forget that?

He knew damn well Jasper wanted another run at getting a leg over on Edward. Now older, Edward's even more guarded, and a much bigger brute from seven years of hard labor in the oil sands, but some things haven't changed for Mr. Cullen. Why wasn't Jasper willing to accept that?

Well, look at him. What self-respecting top wouldn't want to explore that no man's land despite the 'no trespassing' signs when they had a clear shot?

Edward had no qualms about being deep in the closet, even after divorcing his first wife, Angela, years ago. After all, Jasper had agreed to Edward's high-handed 'terms': Edward was to remain firmly on top of all their business transactions.

Over the last three years, in various hotels, they'd draw the heavy curtains, turn up the TV, sample and weigh out the dark and oily hash Emmett shipped them. Then it was just like old times, back when they were at Moonshine Lake, taunting each other until someone caved and was on his knees, taunting the other to give it up.

But it still ends the same: Jasper pinned to the mattress with Edward's rough breathing on his neck.

Always gracious about this concession, Jasper believed he would share Edward's day in the sun, and waited to deliver the man's enlightenment.

Smiling into Edward's somber, green eyes, Jasper moves his handsfirmly over his chest. "Modern businessmen learn to adapt and change with the times. Look at me and my success." He twists his nipple. "Innovation is good."

Edward flips Jasper and pins him. "I think sex remains primeval, Jasper, which business merely capitalizes on like anything else." His fingers trace down and farther down. Jasper arches with a gasp. "I think I can trust my caveman instincts." He looks down. "Looks to me like your anatomy agrees."

"Edward, how about this?" Jasper breaks away. "Think about your Scottish ancestor, who gave you your gorgeous dark-red hair and distinct green eyes. He left behind his home and country, crossed an ocean, and then a vast wilderness and met your people, the Cree. He defied tradition because he slept with a Cree woman. I think the results were pretty fantastic." Jasper traces his fingers down over Edward's Northern compass tattoo. "You should try breaking new trail. To discover for yourself..." He leans to lick over Edward's favorite spot. "A brave new world." He smiles to feel Edward's muscles tense and spasm in response. "And I can be your faithful guide."

Edward rolls Jasper onto his back and looks down on him. Jasper takes in his muscled chest and abs, flexed and strong in this position. "We'll see." He bends down as he bites the place where Jasper's shoulder meets his neck, and this move always leaves Jasper weak. "Don't glorify this unknown Scot, Jasper. After my people were done trading their furs and some sperm with him, he disappeared. Eaten by a bear, or maybe they just got rid of him because he lied and made a bad bargain." He grabs Jasper's hair. "My people are warriors, right?"

Jasper swallows. "Nice analogy, Edward."

"You started it, Jasper." Edward smiles oddly and he releases him."Now, roll over."

Jasper snorts. 'We'll see'. The run-around is all Edward's ever going to give Jasper.

Sure, Edward bends him over and pounds into him until he sees stars, comes the Milky Way, and blacks out from pleasure, but that's not the fucking point.

Three years later and Edward's back is still to the wall.

Stupid, stupid stubborn man.

After taking a long burning drag on his cigarette, Jasper stares out at the vast frozen lake.

Jasper has a very bad feeling about the sudden decision to come back here, especially the way Edward's been acting; sidelong glances and quiet, even for him. Either it is mental preparation to bend over, or this is the end for them.

Edward thinks this is Emmett's last duffel bag of hash, and if Edward isn't willing to let Jasper have his way, then Jasper is done. Salut!

He exhales slowly and tilts his head, staring unseeing, as static snowfall consumes his periphery of lake, sky and distant memory.

Their old canvas tent was set up down there by the beach somewhere, but the snow is so thick on the ground, it's impossible to say where the property ends and the lake begins.

Jasper snorts. How fitting.

Uneasy, he chews his hangnail. Edward's mom, Esme, called them her salt and pepper shakers because of Edward's dark coloring to Jasper's pale and always together.

Shaking it and grinding it, but Esme didn't know about that.

Jasper likes to think he's so different from that scared young man with the mercenary agenda. Yet this is what it has all come down to with Edward, again. Jasper still just wants what he wants. Him. His surrender. His perfect ass.

Bend over or I'm gone.

The trouble was that Edward was the master at faking Jasper out back then, too.

A thunderous boom makes Jasper jump. "What the hell is that?"

Edward laughs and appears wearing a pilled cable-knit sweater and jeans, a tea towel thrown over his shoulder, he takes a drink from a dark beer in his hand. "The ice on the lake shifts at night as the temperature drops." He takes another drink and wipes his beard. "Sound travels faster in the cold air, so the ice cracking sounds far louder than a thunderstorm."

Jasper stomps his cold feet. "I sure felt it."

"You don't skate on lakes up here, city-boy. Big pieces of ice heave, so there're no smooth surfaces under that snow."

"I believe you."

Obviously, Edward isn't too happy right now. He's sporting a full beard and bushy hair. Edward knows Jasper hates it when he's all wild-man like this.

Edward gives him a look and returns to his cooking.

Jasper drags off his smoke as he remembers lots of heaving and hard surfaces in their tent when they were eighteen.

Well, Edward thought Jasper was eighteen.

Jasper has a slight build. He was actually twenty-one, almost twenty-two that summer. Edward was eighteen, but he was built and easily passed for twenty-one. A hirsute boy, he was already shaving a full beard at that age.

Closing his eyes, Jasper happily thinks back to their first sexual forays in that hot tent: the shadows of trees moving on the roof, their breathing growing labored, waves lapping, sucking and licking, and then their sharp grunts. There was that constant smell of musty tent, and their sweat, and what felt like an endless supply of cum.

He bet Charlie got a big whiff of jizz when he stuck his face in their tent. Jasper had gone missing for weeks, and then he finds his step-son spread eagle, buck naked, and holding Edward's dick all swathed in lube and a condom.

Jasper lightly rubs his stubble and winces at that memory. Well, Esme still thinks Edward is straight, which Jasper thinks is worse, but he won't bring that can of worms up again.

Lies and hiding seem to be their thing.

Like the fact Edward doesn't know that this isn't really Emmett's last duffel bag. What's Edward going to do? Sue him?

Emmett just sent over an extra-large shipment this time because he went on an extended trip to Rio with some Alice chick, and he didn't want his precious little brother caught short. Jasper's already had his fair share of Edward leading him on and then stalling.

"Turnabout's fair play," he murmurs.

"What?" Edward calls.

"Nothing." Jasper flicks his butt into the fire. "Let me give you a hand."

He can smell something familiar. Cumin? Sage and apples? It must be his mother's old lentil and rabbit stew recipe.

"I'd love one." Edward's cheeky grin wars with his wary look. "Just needs a little salt and pepper."

"Har-har. You go first so the food won't burn, Mr. Minute Man."

Edward grabs him in a headlock and moves to throw him outside, but Jasper braces his foot on the door.

Maybe there is such thing as poetic justice. These two end where they had started: Moonshine Lake.

Moonshine Lake, Northern Alberta, Ten years earlier...

Jasper can always tell when his new friend, Edward, is getting turned-on. If they're wrestling or swimming, he can feel it just before Edward suddenly dives into deeper waters.

Whenever they get back from a party, they change silently into their swimsuits, and always go for a midnight swim to clear their heads. Later, inside the canvas tent, Jasper sheds his wet Speedo like a heavy burden. Flicking sand from damp crevices, he carefully dries himself, and examines peeling sunburned skin here and down there.

Effortless in his artful moves, drama class was Jasper's best subject, much to Charlie's dismay. He knows what he has in his lithe, athletic body, his thick blond hair and his face that launched a thousand come-ons and heartbreaks.

Jasper plops his dimpled ass down, making Edward pop up on the King-size air mattress.

He ignores him, chin resting on his curled fist, as he continues sketching tits from a Hustler. "Aren't you getting dressed?"

"Fuck, I'm horny. Claire was too drunk again." Jasper spreads his legs and looks down, checking himself. "I really want to go out for a wank."

"Don't let me stop you."

"I think I have to stop me. It's like that girl's got sandpaper hands." He makes a pull. "Ouch." Jasper peers at his shoulder, inspecting a piece of peeling skin.

Edward fishes around in his bag, and tosses something at him.

"Aloe Vera Cream Gel?" Jasper cocks an eyebrow at Edward.

"Don't use it all," he grouses and goes back to finishing the nipple, his chin back on his curled fist, with just a hint of a smile.

Jasper wakes up and stares into complete darkness. He thought someone was shaking him awake, but he realizes Edward is jacking off and their mattress is shimmying.

Enjoying Edward's private pleasure for a moment, Jasper reaches down and grabs his own hard cock and joins him.

Edward's breathing catches, and he pauses listening to what Jasper is doing. Worried, Jasper slows and holds his breath, but then he hears Edward's hot gust of breath.

They start again, tentative, but gain momentum, and finish nearly together. Jasper thinks Edward was straining to hold off for him. As they fall asleep, Edward curls toward him, but not touching.

They do this nightly after the party swim, and again in the morning, and even lazy hung-over afternoons. He always waits for Edward to start, but Jasper always keeps his eyes turned away, aware of Edward's steady breath on his neck and shoulder. Their pumping rhythm becomes as familiar as the waves outside.

One night, Jasper startles awake as hot drops of Edward's cum hit his bare back. Neither of them moves.

Clearing his throat, as if he wants to say something, Edward lets out a gust of breath while his shaky fingers wipe it away. His sweaty forehead rests on Jasper's tense back and they lie awake listening to the rising wind in the aspen leaves, an unspoken first line crossed.

"I'm off to your Auntie's." Esme brushes hair from her youngest son's face. He pushes it back to where it was. "Her number's by the phone. Don't forget to call your parents' Jasper."

"I already did. They're cool."

Edward looks at him, but Jasper smiles at Esme and ignores him.

"All right, you boys. Be good."

In the palest light of summer solstice, Edward shows Jasper his mom's studio, a separate room upstairs. Jasper lies on his stomach on a daybed with the windows and sliding doors open, and an evening bird's mournful six-note song pierces the silence.

Edward sketches quickly, and then stands to adjust Jasper's legs or arms in a new pose, and sketches again, before the all the sweet light is gone.

"Roll over."

Jasper laughs. "I can't believe I'm embarrassed."

Moving him in poses, Edward adjusts his arm and gently brushes back his hair, and moves Jasper's hand to there. Jasper doesn't look at him, but feels his breath on him, and that feels closer for some reason.

The sketchbook flips, again and again.

Jasper's finger traces lower and lightly, as he hears Edward's pencil moving swifter, and he wishes he could draw him. Pretending his fingers are Edward's pencil, he traces his ribs, lightly, over here and then down here and even there.

Edward's brow creases as he reaches over. A car door slams and they scramble.


The wind picks up and rain batters harder against the window.

The fire crackles and pops downstairs, while Esme reads and the radio drones to CBC.

Jasper reads an old Conan the Barbarian by Barry Windsor-Smith, while Edward erases from his sketch from Heavy Metal and blows on it, and then more rubbing and blowing.

Looking at Edward's red lips, Jasper pulls out a Hustler he knows Edward likes.

Edward's hand stops as he sees Jasper shoves his hands down his sweats. He starts to quickly stroke himself.

Edward says lowly, "You're crazy." Jasper just pulled one off that morning while Edward rolled up some spliff.

After a good five minutes of his toes curling, and his lip bitten, with Jasper huffing and puffing all sorts of plaintive sounds with his eyes closed, at last he cries, "Ah! I can't."

Edward neatly sets aside his nearly-erased sketch. "Here," he says, resigned. "Let me try."

Jasper scoots down and lowers his sweats for his assent. They knock heads.

It would be the first time, but not the last.

Edward hoped this was coming.

From the first time he saw this Jasper kid, he knew he wasn't from around here with his pre-ripped jeans and his tongue piercing. Big deal. His pale blue-ish, green-ish eyes are distant, but they draw you in. The girls love him and sing his name: Jas-per Sw-an, Got-ta big Wha-on.

Leah picks Edward up on Friday night, like usual, but Jasper's in her cab for some reason. He pulls out this big bag of weed. Leah grins, coughs, and announces, "Massive." Edward takes a whiff and a grope. It's really dank, too. All night this kid asks Edward these really random questions, and Jasper and Leah crack up when Edward avoids answering with a lame joke. But Jasper didn't laugh or call Edward a liar when Edward told him he was Cree, despite his dark-green eyes and reddish-brown hair. So he was in.

The kid's too rich for a runaway, but he never leaves. Edward thinks he will do anything with anyone so he doesn't have to go home, so he talks Esme into letting him set up the tent on the beach. Sometimes Edward crashes there too, because it's easier then staggering all the way upstairs.

Edward and Jasper went back to Jasper's 'cabin' once. Pre-packaged food spoiled in the fridge; furnishings in black and white, and dusty. While grabbing his stuff, he tries to give Edward a bunch of things, like booze and CDs, but Edward says, 'No thanks, man.' Jasper keeps at it until he accepts a black and white lumber jacket, which he always wears after that.

Always in bare feet, commando, Jasper doesn't stare at Edward like other people do. Jasper says he likes being watched. He says he knows what filthy things people want to do to him, and he thinks it's a laugh. He tells Edward that when he draws him, he feels innocent. Clean.

Edward's fascinated by how Jasper looks; almost pretty, but he can't think of a better word. He's still a total guy, and so is Jasper, but the kid is kinda different, and Edward thinks he knows why that might . Mortified when he got caught creaming over Jasper's ass while he slept with his legs spread just so; Edward's a lot more careful now. He's done secret rodeos before, and yet he hesitates. Edward can't quite get Jasper's deal. Something's off a bit.

Everyone knows how Jasper regularly fucks weird Claire, which is fine, but also unexpected. Edward and Bella used to before she moved. Jasper never talks about it. Claire never shuts up about it, and now she wants to get her tongued pieced, too.

Edward is not going to ask him about whether he ever does boys or not. He tried getting Leah to, but she told him to grow a pair. It's like Jasper's tongue stud; you rarely see it, so most people ask him outright about it. Jasper just smiles with his mouth tightly closed and shrugs for his answer.

He swears this kid laughs at him, but Edward studies him and he doesn't ever see it. Just Jasper's fleeting glacier glances and his odd body language that confuses him. Makes him horny, too.

Because of this, Edward can't make up his mind as he watches Jasper try to stroke himself off to his favorite Hustler. Was offering him a blow job too much, too soon?

Finally, Edward decides not to offer to suck him off; well, not yet. But he wants to. Oh, yes, he definitely wants to.

"Close your eyes," Edward tries to keep his voice friendly, but down to business, too. "Let's go back to the part where, um, she still has her clothes on, but her skirt's caught in his truck door as she tries to run away. Then we can imagine the steps to the part where he's got her from behind. Okay?"

Squirting some cream-gel on his hands, he rubs them noisily together, to hide they are shaking a bit. Jasper opens his eyes, and looks over at his shiny hands. When their eyes meet, Edward hardens. Just the promise of what's next makes them both start to take shallow breaths.

"Okay," Edward grabs him and gets right to it. His own cock begins to leak, knowing he is next.

It takes nothing at all before Jasper comes pretty hard and fast, and it surprises both of them.

Edward relaxes at last. He has been well-received. Because of Jasper's quick reaction, he thinks Jasper is still out of his element, so Edward decides he'll need to take the upper hand here. The thought of this makes him even more turned on. He's always wanted this.


Jasper catches his breath and lets his head fall back.

Hot Damn. The way Edward rubbed his balls with his other hand; it was almost too perfect.

The best part was how Edward bravely offered to jack him out of sheer nerves and faked courtesy.

How he loved that now familiar slow-then-quick rhythm, after all those nights listening to Edward trying to work up the nerve, while Jasper held him off by his feigned hetero-stand-offish ways.

It was always Jasper's best move: making these boys unsure of Jasper's persuasion. The longer their hesitation, the better it will be for Jasper later, especially when the lad'sgetting a little desperate. Things will only gain momentum from here.

Nothing better than vexing a boy's cock into a corner. Oh, it's good to be back.

He realizes Edward is staring at him.

He says, "That was ah... well." He fingers the loose thread on his t-shirt. "You know..."

Edward nods, watching Jasper like he's waiting for Jasper to thank him or cuddle.

Good luck with that.

"We can go for a swim after you do me." Edward lowers his sweats and arranges the pillows stacked up behind him. He tosses the tube at Jasper, who neatly catches it.

"No way. It's raining."

"It's warmest in the lake then. No one will be down there and we can take our trunks off."

Jasper shakes his head. "Forget that."

As Jasper slicks up his hands, Edward watches, not smiling, but his eyes shine like he should be.

Jasper jerks him while Edward lies on his side, and Jasper looks over his shoulder. Edward quietly narrates the text below the photos in the Hustler, and his voice deepens as the guy insists that he knows what the resisting girl wants.

"Ungh... No... It's too big...Stop." Jasper pants her replies into Edward's ear. "Stop. Ungh. Ungh. Don't….Ungh."

Edward manages to hold off for the 'best' page, when that dirty boy goes for the wrong hole. Moaning her outrage as Jasper tugs on Edward, he goes faster and harder until Edward's hips jolt and he cums.

For the first time, Jasper gets to watch him, and he's fascinating as his reserve slips away. Edward's eyes shut tight, his face pained and then not, changing so quickly, while he tries to quiet his grunted breaths. As he rests, he's aware of Jasper's breath on him, and he lets the moment ride.

Jasper realizes it and pulls away, brushing the hair from his sweaty forehead.

"Jasper." His eyes open. "You got it on the page."

Jasper shrugs. "She wanted it."

"Is that so?" Edward pulls up his sweats, rolls over and they wrestle. They roll around half-heartedly at first, serious and not. Edward takes it easy on him, unable to be really mad.

Jasper won't look at him, and in this way, he lets Edward know he won't ever apologize.

"There." Edward wipes the mess off on Jasper's vintage Star Wars pillow. "Justice is served."

"You're washing that."

"Nope." Green eyes flash at him, daring.

Now they really fight. Jasper pins his arms and tries to put the pillow on his head, but Edward bucks him off. Both strong-willed guys, they bang around, thumping into bunk beds, laughing, tussling, straddling, throwing hard gut punches, and grunting. With fiery and excited eyes, they want to see how far they will dare take this.

Edward whispers hotly, "I win."

"Screw you." Jasper has a few sly moves and twists away, but Edward is strong and pins him on his back and bends his arm painfully.

"You must pay for the wrongs you have committed against my Hustler and Miss Tilky's sweet ass."

"Fine." Jasper feigns indifference. He tells himself he's curious.

"I think Jasper must go downstairs and get us a washcloth without Esme getting suspicious. Then he crawl back under these blankets."

"Then what?"

"That depends on how well you perform the first part of your mission."

Jasper gets asked too many questions by lonely Esme, and Edward decides Jasper sounds guilty, which he hotly denies.

Edward decides that Jasper must get Edward off again, but slowly, very slowly, without Edward ever losing his hard-on.

"Oh….go slower...yeah…oh… just like that….oh…oh…ah. Slow." He arches and Jasper laughs at him.

"Fuck off." He smiles, seeing Jasper's tongue flash silver.

"Shhh," Jasper says just before he slips his mouth on him with closed eyes.

"Oh... Um... That's good...Oh. Um, that's that stud thing you have." His breath stutters, but his eyes are steady. "Hey. You can't use your hands. No cheating."

"Fine." Jasper lets him discover how frustrating a loose mouth and a lackadaisical tongue can be. Edward isn't the only one who can mete out punishments.

Lifting the blanket, Edward gets up on his knees now, and it's hard not to groan at the sight. In his new-found restraint, Edward finds such new pleasures in this strange boy's playful defiance. Too bad it makes him so hard, or he could punish him even more.

"Tsk, tsk. You've obviously never done this properly before."

"Obviously." Jasper looks at him wide-eyed as he pulls a pube off his tongue.

"Let me help you." Edward grabs his cock as he pulls on Jasper's hair.

Later, they go for a bathing swim, the waves are really high and warm and knock them about. They come home stoned, to endless spaghetti. Jasper pretends that Esme is his mom, and she forgives him.

Every night, after they swim and smoke up heavily, they whisper their favorite porn as they get down to it in the dark. They doze and then wake and go hard again and even sometimes again. Edward tells Jasper he wants to get his tongue pierced, and they talk about making a trip to High Level.


It's a hot afternoon, late August at the beach. Edward watches Jasper's mouth tear into the watermelon and sees his silver flash. They never did go get his piercing.

"Nice day, isn't it?" Jasper sneers and sucks noisily on the over-ripe fruit.

Two nights ago at a huge bush party, Jasper and Leah sat in her truck talking, and then she gave Jasper a blow-job.

The boys often fool around with the local girls at parties, but Leah's different because she is Emmett's girl and Jasper knows this; he deliberately crossed a line.

Edward stares out at the lake behind dark shades. "Yes it is."

Jasper whips the rind into the bush and walks into the lake. He ignores Edward's stupid question.

"Where are you going?"

He swims out much farther into the lake than he has ever gone before. Treading water, he stares at his parents' empty place, all the blinds shut like eyelids.

Edward stands at the edge of the pier, watching him.

Jasper turns away and chokes on his sobs and he hopes to God no one can hear him. He's so mad at himself. His chest starts to burn again. "Stop," he tells himself. He looks back.

Edward cups his mouth and shouts, but the winds snatch his words.

Disquiet rises up every time he looks at Edward. Jasper looks away and floats on his back.

Two days ago, while he went with Leah over to the gas plant to apply for a job, Jasper went through Edward's room. Under a rug, he found a loose floorboard and some gay porno mags, assorted condoms, and an econo-sized bottle of anal lubricant, half empty. They haven't done anything like that, yet.

Jasper swims on his back for a long time. When he switches to the front crawl, it seems like he hasn't moved forward at all.

Jasper sought out Leah because he saw her watching them together and she's known Edward the longest, although she keeps her cards close to her chest. Not until Jasper started to break down and tell her about Peter and what happened to him last year (or an edited version at least), did she finally relent. But what she told Jasper, he should have seen and realized and known all along.

It was a fake blow job, all a big show. Leah assured him it was for the best.

Of course, Edward pushed Jasper down when they got back into the tent. Wanting reassurance or maybe revenge in the form of their usual naughty-and-not-boy routine from Jasper, Edward was livid.

Of course, Jasper said, 'No,' but he actually meant it this time.

He had a hell of a time convincing Edward, for obvious reasons. The punch to Edward's jaw felt so good he wanted to do it again, but when Edward whispered brokenly, 'Why?' Jasper couldn't move or speak.

The next day, Edward silentlydogged Jasper, chain smoking and waiting for an explanation.

Instead, Jasper strolled up the beach again. They made up wild stories about Edward's cut lip: bad cops and good robbers, cowboys and Indians, tigers and bears, and then denied everything. That night, Jasper slow kissed Claire all night, while he watched Edward trying to corner the elusive Leah, who winked at him.

Then it was back to the tent they went. Jasper nearly left with his backpack on, but Edward blocked his way. Burying his face in his stomach, he kept saying, "Please... please, just tell me why."

Stupid, stupid stubborn boy.

With Edward begging him, grabbing him, tearing at his clothes, Jasper nearly broke down right then and let Edward fuck him. They were both so furious, so hot, and so turned on. Jasper wasn't sure if he meant 'no' or not, and neither did Edward.

"Stop!" Jasper cried, and thankfully Edward took off, because that was a close one. Edward is a Goddamn liar. Jasper should know.

Swimming sloppily now from exhaustion, Jasper's relieved when he touches bottom, but it's covered in weeds. Cringing, he lets his feet slip and slither through them.

If Edward is pretending to be straight, and he really isn't, then what does this whole tent-game prove?

Is... Jasper the twink?


Disoriented, his head gets swamped by a speedboat wave. He's coughing up water and he can't take in air.

The worst of this whole thing is that Jasper has always, always, been the dominant alpha-male and the younger straight boys always beg to bend over for Jasper. Always. But this whole thing is not Edward's fault. Jasper knows this.

Edward doesn't know about Peter, or why Jasper doesn't go to bars anymore, or why he's pretending to be eighteen and hiding from his parents. He feels like he can't be that Jasper Whitlock-Stock and Two Smoking Barrels of Bad-Ass anymore. He doesn't even know who this Jasper Swan Moonshine Lake is, exactly, either.

He slowly makes his way out of the lake on shaking legs, and Edward is there, leaning in and trying to give him an arm and help him out.

Jasper pushes him away. "Don't." Water sheets down his body. Drained, he staggers over and collapses on his rickety chair.

As he lets the sun warm him as he thinks about warm mornings and grabbing thick hair. The way Edward wakes him up with his mouth, under the sleeping bag. How he hums and suckles, easing up when he feels Jasper getting close, scratching his thighs until he spreads them and rolls. The way his fingers trail and press along his crack and wiggle so wetly in there asJasper sleepily says his usual script: 'No. Stop. It's too big. Don't!'

He feels Edward's fingers ghost on his stiffening cock. His eyes open and he pushes Edward's hand away in white-lipped fury. "Don't!"

The bastard's prepping Jasper's hole while Jasper's laying back, pretending it's not happening, not leading to its logical end, pretending to ignore the fact about where could've Edward learned this.

Edward grabs the arms of his lawn chair and makes Jasper lean back. "Why?" Edward growls and then drops the chair back on solid ground.

He sits back down and lights a smoke, not expecting an answer.

Now that Jasper's playing the coquette, he's not sure either. What's my line? His perfect teeth start to chatter.

"Are you okay Jasper? Do you want a towel?"


Sure, Karma's a BDSM dominatrix strap-on bitch. His modus operandi is bound to bite him in the ass again, but he hoped if he changed just a little, he could escape her wrath screaming in his head for a while, maybe just for this summer, because he was happy. They were getting off like lightning rods on a stormy night. Jasper isn't pressuring Edward, like he usually does, so Jasper felt hopeful again.

Shivering badly now, he tries clenching his jaw, and his body, but it doesn't help.

"Are you o-."

"I said, 'No'!"

He had wanted to call the police on that Burns freak last year, but oh no, his mother couldn't have her new husband, Charlie, catching wind of what really went down between Peter and Jasper. The Swan money must roll in pure and unjizzified. Jasper was lying in a hospital, with a wired jaw, and Bathsheba's nattering at him about how Jasper shouldn't be playing head games with rich pricks or dumb jocks.

"Pick your battles, Jasper," she said, "and your bottoms, wisely."

So they bought this cabin in Nowheresville so they could spend more family time together. Charlie disappeared back to the gas plant across the lake, and Bathsheba Whitlock-Swan emptied Jasper's prescription bottles so she can improve her long-shot with her golf pro. She told Jasper to make new friends, but be discreet, for Charlie's sake.

Edward hands him a towel.

Jasper flings it into the bush, and it snaps in the breeze like a pennant. Edward grinds out his smoke.

The thought of Edward's lie stings and thrills even more than the first time Edward stuck his huge, lubed thumb up his ass. He came so hard he saw white dots. Maybe Jasper should try to get back into the dominant-male-mode. Maybe Edward should bend over for Jasper first, but it's too little too late, and he doesn't know if he can switch his game up. It's not really what he wants, but he feels so angry.

Jasper was happy; an idiot, but happy, and now he was fucking it up.

"Why, Jasper?" Edward's fingers drum on his lawn chair.

Jasper pushes his fingers into his eyes. Good question, Edward.

Jasper thinks maybe there was a reason why he started playing this stupid game with Edward. He needed someone like Edward to just force him to bend over, and now faced with his own devious methodology, he is freaking out.

No one has been able before. When Jasper thinks about it, he thinks he always knew, deep down, that perhaps he saw his chance. He was away from all the people who knew him and what had happened before. Jasper couldn't risk it with his reputation; then everyone would want a ride.

Right from that first rainy day, Jasper was surrendering to Edward, never pressing him or making his usual aggressive moves. Jasper can't believe he chose this guy. He knows how big Edward is, and he just doesn't want to think about how excited he gets when he thinks about it, or what this means for him.

"It's too hot." Jasper walks back toward the lake and just as his feet get to the water's edge, Edward catches his shoulder and makes him stop.

He just wants Edward to take care of this ache in his head and between his legs. What he doesn't care is whether its Edward's lies, or Jasper's lies to himself, that put which ache where.

Edward's rough fingers brush suntan lotion against the damp nape of his neck, as Jasper lets his head drop. Standing close behind him, their reflections waver together in the slow lapping water. Their two shadows are angled off to the side, and Edward's shadow looms so much larger -such a big boy- that he takes the heat off Jasper's sun-burned back.

As they stand, their feet sink in the soft sand until they disappear, and Jasper wiggles his until the mud rises up from the bottom and clouds the water. Jasper's body is so scrubbed clean because of all the time he spends in this coarse sand. Edward's bottoms of jeans are getting soaked.

Edward's hands slather cream over his back and arms. Now his fingers trace back and forth along the back of Jasper's Speedo. Back and forth.


"You can't swim properly in board shorts." Jasper's the only guy around to wear a proper swimsuit. He was on the swim team, but didn't bother with university try-outs.

"You know that's not what I mean." His voice is hoarse.

High school was a long time ago and Jasper needs to get back to university; get his head straightened out. No more hiding. He's transferring to Dalhousie this fall for this very reason; he's ready to come out. He should tell Edward, but now is not the time.

Waves lap and carry the silt away.

"I want to go home." Goosebumps cover him and carry a prickle all their own. God. What is he saying? No... no he doesn't.

Edward, the 'not-so-innocent', lights another smoke. "No. You're not. Don't say that again." He snaps Jasper's suit and it stings his sunburn. "Just tell me what's going on." Edward exhales in a tired voice. "Enough bullshit already."

Jasper can't see the other side of the lake from here, but he knows where it is in his mind from the times they have driven around, circling.

How small Edward makes Jasper feel, and why he likes it, comes to Jasper now. It's completely fucked-up what Jasper used to do to his conquests, and why. Jasper sees that he is both punishing himself, and attempting to redeem himself through Edward, who has no idea who he has taken on.

"Tell me about Seth, Edward, who lives over at Stone Man Beach with Leah's dad."

"Fuck." He chucks his just-lit smoke into the now clear water.

"That's funny, because Leah said that's exactly what you two crazy boys like to do: fuck." Crossing his arms, Jasper turns and sees the fear flash in his green eyes.

And just like that, Jasper feels calm, cool and prepared.


Moonshine Lake, Northern Alberta, Present Day

He sketches on an old envelope, but after a while, Edward scribbles it out. He plucks at his eyebrow and throws the paper in the fire and a chunk of hash flies in by mistake.

"Fuck." He's so stoned right now.

Jasper leans on the entranceway and watches him. "What?"

"You know I could lose my job, right? " He turns to look at Jasper coldly. "I don't get to drive the really big Tonka truck on the nasty, dirty oil sands you hate so much if I don't get my foreman his shit."

God, Edward loves those jeans with that worn button-fly. He shouldn't stare, but he loves where Jasper's thighs meet and...

Edward swallows and makes himself look at his face. His handsome, manipulative face. Stay mad. Stay mad.

Jasper tilts his head. "You never told me that before."

You think you are the only one who can lie, Jasper?

"Maybe I can apply for a job at one of your places?" He clasps his hands. "You'd like that, wouldn't you? Be one of those apron-twinks serving you?"

"Is that what you think I want?" Jasper seems amused.

"Fucking drop it." Edward picks up the bong and hits it hard.

Jasper disappears.


The lights go out.

"Jesus Christ, Jasper. You think I'm just going to drop on all fours for you right now?"

"We got company."

In a flash, Edward stands behind Jasper at the kitchen window. Far off in the distance, a set of truck lights move towards them up the lake road.

"Jasper, grab the scales, everything. I'll unlock the upstairs."

Everything's really loud: their breathing, his keys, the padlock, Jasper's useless Doc Martens that make him look so hot on the steps, and his heartbeat in his ears. Jasper's hands shake the flashlight while Edward's keys shake as he unlocks the padlock and throws open the hatch. Edward rips the rug back and boards, shoving in the duffel bag and the scales into the false bottom.

"The snow hasn't covered our tire tracks yet." Jasper's looking out the window. "The smoke in the chimney means they'll know someone's here."

A truck at the end of the road, idling. Edward says, "With full tractor beams on, I can't see what make it is. " I'm sorry Jasper, I never meant for you to get busted. I should have never risked calling Emmett.

Jasper's whole body trembles. Edward puts both his hands on his shoulders and presses him to his pounding chest; their breath streams together in the dark and cold room.

The truck moves forward as a search beam strobes through the yard and lights chop through the trees. Fast-moving bodies flicker, and then several deer burst pell-mell through the clearing, the search beam amplifying their panicked movements.

"Get down." Edward pushes down on Jasper, and they trip over a box, spilling its contents.

Bang. Bang.



The gun report crackles and repeats to boom and echo across the lake behind them.

"Fuck." Edward prays silent and profane into Jasper's hair, and for this reason, and because Edward wants to protect him from those assholes in the truck, he feels himself grow hard against his backside.

Jasper shakes and Edward realizes he is laughing, silently.

Edward drops his head onto his shoulder. "Sorry." He knows this weekend is just too late for them to fix all that needs repairing, and now Jasper's laugh seems a cruel send-off.

Bang. Bang.

After a long silence, Jasper turns to look at him. Edward sits up and peeks out the window. "The truck's gone."

Jasper pushes Edward off him. "N-no cops. Thank you, Jesus." Jasper glows with joy; his body looks tight.

Edward looks down at him. "Yeah."

Edward can't feel the high because of the stone lodged in his guts and his balls.

"This is where…," Jasper slowly gets up. "You been doing all your work?"

"Yeah." The whole second floor has all the walls ripped down now. He's wanted to bring Jasper out since they got back together.

"You're oil painting? You've only shown me the graphic print stuff you've done."

Jasper reaches for the light switch, but Edward grabs his hand and it's shaking badly. "Leave it."

"I just want to see."

He swallows, guilty. "I don't... just come downstairs." Edward tromps slowly down the stairs.

Jasper starts after him but he notices the box they spilled. "Holy..." He picks up a magazine and drops it quickly.

After Jasper silently comes down the stairs, Edward waits to lock up the hatch again.

"Look. I should never have dragged you out here, so close to work." Edward stares at the fire and plucks at his eyebrow, wincing. "When things have been so fucked-up lately."

"Psssh. I'm fine with roughing it."

Edward says quietly, "They've shot at my place before." He looks hard at Jasper. "They herded the deer into my yard." Edward stares at him. "Jesus! It's not hunting season, man."

Jasper's eyes widen. "What?"

Edward stares at him in exasperation.

The fire crackles in the lengthening silence.

He finishes his whiskey in one gulp. "I'm glad this thing is over." He looks at Jasper once and then back at the fire.

"You're glad you're getting out too, right, Edward?"

No answer, his pupils black as the fire dances in them.

Jasper takes a sobering drink of whiskey.

"I'm so tired." He turns away and starts pulling out the couch. "Going right to bed."

"Oh." Jasper stares at his bent-over back. "O-kay."


Jasper thought they were going to have hot Angry Edward sex and he gets his ass dumped instead.

He watches him strip down to his long johns and waits for the growling snores to start. Then Jasper takes the keys out of Edward's jeans and sneaks back upstairs.

Looking at the pictures in the moonlight, a glass of good whiskey in his hand, it's like being in his first church, even though he has never read the Bible. Edward paints in using his mother's native folk art techniques, but fused with modern abstract and graphics. Figures of men writhe and labor in a fearful rage, but their physical beauty is divine and filthy. They drive carnal machines that meld into stark homoeroticism. Jasper's filled with a strange déjà vu.

That rough stuff in the back bush, where they spend months in seclusion and who knows what goes on. Edward never talks about the men in his life; it's like he went to prison. One look at these men's bodies and you know Edward isn't a monk; one hour in his bed and you know he didn't learn that from his wife.

He shines a light on another painting. God, this man is so talented. Why is he so afraid to show this?

Oh, right.

Lucky Jasper literally stumbled on Edward's instruction manual to his ass on the eleventh hour, his secret gay-porn stash.

Pulling out a flashlight, Jasper takes a big drink of whiskey and starts going through them, as he shivers in anticipation in the cold.


Jasper makes a soft snore. He dreams Edward paints him using his tongue and words as brush strokes on his body.

Edward watches him sleep on the old lazy-boy. "Fuck, I'm so sorry, Jasper."

He feels the weight of the last three years of Jasper waiting for Edward to roll over and surrender without a fight lift with his sudden decision. Jasper's constant mind-games, veiled threats, and ultimatums have infuriated him. Edward could never bring himself to do it, even when he wanted to.

He thought if Jasper wanted his ass so bad, than Jasper needed to fight him for it, to prove something that even Edward couldn't explain if you asked him.

He was unsurprised to learn Jasper lied about Emmett's 'last duffel bag'. Of course, Edward pulled Jasper into this business solely for his own pleasure, so he has his own mea culpa.

Edward just wants Jasper to man up and push him down and be the top Jasper claims to be. Yet, Jasper is always the same, waiting for Edward to break down and crawl to him.

Showing vulnerability to Jasper terrifies Edward, who's sure Jasper will leave him. Jasper goes through his bottom-boys like a hot knife through hash.

Deep down, Edward knows his performance issues are standing in the way. Edward is afraid he will lose it too quick.

Hell, he knows he will.

After running his hands over his face and his hair, Edward refuses to let his worries take over. His prostate has a hair trigger and once Jasper's hot prick's involved, he's done for.

He nearly moans with the thought of it; disappointing Jasper will be unbearable.

Leaning over, Edward gently strokes Jasper's jaw. The blond bristles are hard to see, but Edward loves the feel of their silvery roughness on his strangely beautiful face. Jasper doesn't like a lot of intimacy, so Edward must wait until he is asleep. He traces his haughty Roman nose, and God, he loves to touch this man's blond hair.

It's hard to think straight when Jasper is around.

He lasted seven years, too. Once Jasper figures out the depth of Edward's obsession, Edward doesn't think he will survive Jasper's penchant for constantly pushing Edward around, playing him and trying to change him. He keeps Jasper at arm's length for his own sanity, and hell, turnabout is fair play.

He doesn't know if he can ever fully trust Jasper with his constant lies, and never knowing his motivations.

"Don't," Jasper murmurs in his sleep.

After bundling kindling into his arms, Edward brushes hair back from his ear. "Maybe not, but I'm always coming back for you, Jasper." He whispers hotly, "Be warned."


Cold hands.

Freezing hands on Jasper's ass and balls.

"Ah!" Jasper flips over, fear making him recoil. "Are they back?"

"Will I do?" When Edward realizes Jasper has panic in his eyes, he says quickly, "They're gone. You're safe."

Jasper blinks away his dream and gives Edward a brilliant smile as he struggles to sit up.

As Jasper reaches for Edward's face, Edward feels his nerves come back.

"Look at you, man," Jasper stammers. "You're so smooth." He strokes him and trails down his now bare chest in a thick robe. "And you're so hot. I mean- of course." He chuckles. "But you're boiling."

"The sauna's perfect right now. I brought in some fresh warm water so you can wash up." Edward holds out another thick robe he got for him. "Come on."

Jasper thinks he will die as they run through coldest night under the half moon, but they make it to find themselves even more alive. Oh, it is glorious to finally reach such steam and heat inside this tiny cedar shack.

They sit and pant, as thelake shifts and cracks like a spine.

"I love that you built this by yourself." Jasper stretches, his towel slipping a little. "I never want to leave." Jasper blanches at his unguarded words.

Edward smiles at him. "I was thinking I wanted to do a painting of us and the hunters and the deer."

"I'll pose nude again." Jasper's only half-serious.

"You remember that, do you?" Edward sighs. "I sure remember that day."

Coyotes howl and it sounds as if they are just outside the door. They yelp like they are burned by the cold.

Jasper can't stop thinking about how Edward's cut huge chunks of his hair off, and shaved the back of his head with a trimmer, even his chest and his pits. He doesn't ask why.

Edward squeezes Jasper's thigh. "Let's go back to the cabin."

"I just got to write in the snow."

His piss steams and his body mists and he feels like some primordial god just emerged under these trillion stars.

The lake cracks and booms again. Jasper laces up his Doc Martens good and tight. Then he breaks off thick icicles, like tusks, from the sauna and hides them in his robe pockets. Bending down, he sticks his hands in a snow bank and speaks slowly and painfully.

"I know what I have to do now. Please forgive me, Edward, when you learn about the lie I told you about the duffel bag, but it's kind of our thing."

When he can't stand it anymore, he runs.

It's dark and warm inside. All the lights are off, but the dim red-yellow glow of the fire leads him in.

He turns the corner.

Edward's piled the plaid sleeping bags in front of the fireplace and is lying on his stomach. He sets aside the smoking bong.

He has nothing on but Jasper's old black and white lumber jacket, the one Jasper gave him. With his bare backside exposed, he lays with his legs slightly splayed as his fine ass juts out. There's no hair on his ass, thighs; he was a busy man while Jasper slept.

He turns to look over his shoulder, resting his head in his arms, and hiding his expressive mouth.

He looks so young right now. All the invincibility Jasper summoned outside cannot compare to him. His hands ache, but he grips the icicles and feels them chill his thighs.

He watches Jasper's eyes wander over his legs and up his ass, the swell of his balls, and Jasper nods, solemnly, once.

Rolling slightly to his side, Edward's hand moves down there, and hides what Jasper most wants to see.

There was a glimpse that the hair is trimmed. He spreads his legs a little more.

Jasper shakes his head, but he won't apologize. "It looks like I better shut this party down." Walking over, his eyes expressionless, he pushes Edward to lie on his back with his boot.

"Hey." Edward glares up at him. "Take your fucking boots off."

Kneeling down, Jasper coolly examines Edward's anger with his expression blank, and then he firmly puts his freezing hands on each of Edward's hip bones and quickly straddles him.

Edward jumps. "Fuck!" He tries to push Jasper's hands off him.

Jasper has the element of surprise on his side and holds him down.

"What the hell?"

And then Jasper puts his hands down there.

"Fuck off!" Now Edward's really mad.

Jasper was expecting as much and puts a strong hand under Edward's jaw. "Stop."

Edward struggles to sit up, his cheeks stained with fury.

Jasper pushes down with his knees. "Stop it, I said."

"What the fuck, Jasper?"

Jasper can see his heart is pounding.

"I told you 'Stop' because it's time you listened to me." Jasper's voice is steady. He roughly grabs Edward's chin again and makes him attend to him.

"The only word you are allowed to speak once we get started is: 'Red'. The rest you have to just take."

Edward freezes. He recognizes those words. He knows now what Jasper means and what he is doing. He pales. Through gritted teeth he tries to assert himself. "I see you were upstairs. But it wasn't my art you were interested in, was it? More lies and tricks, Jasper? Why am I not surprised? Just like Emmett's duffel bag? You think I wouldn't call my own brother?"

Jasper almost smiles as he releases him. Calmly he begins to lay out the large icicles, far from the fire, surreptitiously watching Edward.

Edward licks his lips nervously. "What the hell are those for?"

"Believe me, Edward, you will be fine."

Jasper slowly reaches one arm back and grabs his kitbag. He fishes out an adjustable dual leather cock ring and places it on Edward's shaved belly. Ignoring Edward's gape, he starts taking out desensitizing cream, several lubes and several types of condoms. He also grabs a stopwatch and shows Edward.

"You can trust me, Edward, even with all my necessary evils, you must know you are in the very best of hands. You had me and boys checked out, didn't you?"

Edward's cheeks stain red.

Jasper shrugs off his robe, and with slow and deliberate movements, he starts pulling the belt out of Edward's discarded jeans.

Edward's eyes go wide as he realizes what Jasper is actually preparing to do and it's clear he is undecided.

"We need cold to get your cock down for your cock ring, right?" His hands move carefully to his Edward's balls.

Edward winces. "Fuuuuuck!"

"No cursing." He gives him a tug for warning.

"Why?" He grits this word out. "You don't have fucking ice on your balls."

"You need to concentrate. Cursing is just whining and it distracts. I expect silence because it means you are focused on me."

This gives Edward pause. Jasper nods and continues.

"I will teach you how to give me hand signals. Even tied up, I will still understand you because I will be completely attuned to you and watching for them. This is about your pleasure, Edward, not mine. Don't distrust my selfish nature, Edward. I want you to love this as much I will."

Edward's eyes narrow. "Doubtful."

Jasper snorts and releases him. "It's time you admit I own your over-excited ass."

The blink of outrage and recognition in Edward's eyes almost makesJasper break character and smile.

He reaches for Edward's belt.

"And if we have to punish the stubbornness out of you, or any other undesirable traits, I am the man to do it. You will thank me... "Jasper tilts his head and shrugs. "Eventually."

Edward's mouth opens to begin to speak.

Jasper clamps his hand over his mouth and pushes down on his chest with his knees. "Stop!"

Obviously Edward was expecting hearts and doves and Jasper's tender-eyed gratitude when he finally rolled over.

Maybe he'll get some, if he survives this basic training and if he's lucky.

"I want silence. Those were rhetorical questions, right? Mistakes from you will not be tolerated for much longer." He holds up a very large icicle. "Allow me to direct your attention to the sizes and shapes of those icicles. They are multi-use."

Edward's jaw flexes and as he swallows, he looks searchingly and uncertainly at Jasper.

Oh, it feels good to be back in the saddle again.

"Arms above your head." Jasper's eyes narrow. "Now."

Edward hesitates.

Stupid, stupid stubborn man.