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FIC: "Tacit Surrender" (Edward/Jacob)

TITLE: "Tacit Surrender"
AUTHOR: mistressmarilyn
DATE: September 2, 2010
FANDOM: Twilight Saga (books and films)
PAIRING: Edward Cullen/Jacob Black (Robert Pattinson and Taylor Lautner)
DISCLAIMER: I don't own 'em. They're characters belonging to Stephanie Meyer; Little, Brown & Company; and Summit Entertainment--not to mention the respective actors of the movies, and to the ages. This is a work of a fan, done for no remuneration save the satisfaction of the work.
WARNINGS: Slash, language
AUTHOR NOTES: Set during Breaking Dawn. Written originally for the twilight_las community for the prompt Unspoken. (Got a vote for WORST story, btw.)

Jacob Black had never had a cock in his hand before, except, of course, his own.

This looked like it belonged to an ivory effigy on the walls of a whore's boudoir in ancient Babylon--where male potency was encouraged and celebrated. Jacob, unfamiliar with such exotic concepts, thought only that it seemed substantial and somehow mysterious, both animated and frozen at the same time.

He wrapped his fingers around it, marveling at the icy heat of the marble-like skin, feeling his way along the length and gently testing the flexibility and range of motion, judging his success by the reluctant reactions from the man connected.

No, not man. Monster.

He looked up into the tawny eyes of Edward Cullen, eyes that seemed to express the same disbelief he felt himself, disbelief that it had come to this, to him--Edward's enemy and rival--being the one to pop the nearly century-old teenage vampire's fermenting cherry.

"Do it for Bella," they had said, convincing him it was the best wedding present he could offer, an attempt to keep the awkward bridegroom with his superhuman strength from tearing her apart in his unbridled passion.

Fuck you, Cullen, he thought, knowing the rampant vamp could hear.

Edward closed his eyes and groaned.

The assignment came with instruction. "First bring him to climax manually," and then the next step would supposedly find him more pliable, at least figuratively.

Take the edge off.

So Jacob found himself nearing second base--the analogy especially fitting considering the Cullens' love of baseball--as he energetically manipulated Edward's erection. Getting to first base had involved arousing the immovable beast in the first place, something that took a ridiculous amount of time. It had finally dawned on him that Edward's physical reaction was voluntary; he didn't have to rely on human physiology to inflate his organ with blood, being essentially bloodless.

Come on, Cullen, he thought. Get it up already.

And Edward had.

So now as he worked, he wondered if Edward's ejaculation would be the same, not a reflex explosion brought on by sufficient erotic stimulation, but a burst of energy blown out like a heavy breath. Would there be any . . . emission? Could someone who essentially amounted to a human-shaped carving really come?

And, if the whole thing was so controlled, why fear Edward's lack of control in the first place?

Jacob was curious, despite himself. He professed to believe the Cullens were essentially dead, were mimicking the human condition as best they could, pretending to breathe and blink and even smile. But Bella would soon join their ranks, and Jacob's opinion was reluctantly evolving. Maybe the Cullens really did represent just another shade on the vast spectrum of life, albeit a pale one.

Edward's eyes locked on his own, and Jacob reminded himself to concentrate on actions, not opinions. The bastard couldn't help being what he was, an animated mannequin who, for all Jacob knew, was feeling no real pleasure at all. But wasn't there something in those eyes that indicated otherwise--a steamy spark, an urgent glare, a helpless plea? Jacob could swear he was making progress, and he redoubled his efforts, squeezing, squeezing, pulling, pulling, squeezing and pulling, pulling and squeezing, until finally Edward's stony expression broke into bliss as his erection did indeed erupt, impressively.

It was time to stretch out on the huge four-poster. Jacob had no idea how long it would take before Edward could continue, but he had a feeling it wouldn't be long. By the sight of that barely flagging phallus, he was right.

Jacob did as he had been instructed. He pulled off his pants and reached for the bottle of lubricant on the polished mahogany nightstand, butter for his buns to allow a pseudo-sexual coupling where Edward could practice his strokes.

"Remember, Cullen, the crack, not the hole," he said as he reached back and liberally applied the greasy stuff. He flopped on his belly and raised himself on his elbows, craning his long neck to watch Edward Cullen. "Do it. You won't hurt me."

Maybe not. He had recently been hurt by a vampire, badly hurt, but he was a hundred times stronger than Bella, and his bruises would heal quickly. He hoped to God Cullen was a quick study, for her sake. It was too painful to imagine her pain.

The thought showed on Cullen's face, and Jacob inwardly cursed himself.

"Climb on," he said, impatient now. His growing empathy for Edward Cullen was starting to bug.

Edward raised himself up and stretched out over Jacob, balancing on his left arm, his long, spreading fingers acting as a fulcrum. Jacob watched the hand so close to his face, studying it in fascination as he felt the rigid organ finally cleave the cleft of his ass. The first few thrusts were measured and meticulous, but within minutes the rhythm deteriorated into something more random and desperate.

Jacob was surprised to see that Edward Cullen's hands were beautiful. He imagined the strength in those hands, and he knew suddenly he'd have to test it, just as he had tested the strength in Edward's cock.

"Grab me!"

It was unfortunate that Edward chose to clasp Jacob's right shoulder, the recently healed side of his body. But he bit his lip and bore the pain, concentrating instead on the phallic harrow plowing the furrow behind him. What if it suddenly slipped and pierced him, drove inside with the same force it rutted above? Would his flesh be punctured, or would it only be his cherished masculinity being perforated? The alpha wolf part of Jacob protested loudly, albeit silently.

But at the thought of Edward entering him, some wall inside Jacob gave way, gave in. He needed to know what would happen if Edward fucked him, and not just for Bella Swan's sake.

Edward heard. His grip softened and his angle shifted.

Jacob cleared his head and closed his eyes, ready.