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10 October 2007 @ 05:22 pm
Loved You First  
For kaiwynn...

Title: Loved You First
Word Count: 1756
Pairing: Edward/Jacob
Warnings: AU Slash. Edward/Jacob. Some swearing and mildly adult situations. ‘nuff said.
Author’s Note: Edward and Jacob spend the night in a tent, arguing, with Bella actually asleep, and the thin line between love and hate blurs irreversibly afterwards. Three lines of dialogue taken from that scene in Eclipse. This is my first piece of Twilight slash, but I hope you enjoy reading it :)

Their eyes, golden and brown, soften as they skim over her unconscious form, yet are blind to the ominous ripples cast on the fabric of the tent by the howling wind. He is determined not to say anything with his lips, not to spoil the impossibility of his predicament. His arms are wrapped around her, feeling every curve in her slender body, and their bodies are pressed together in the tight space of the sleeping bag, while the bloodsucker watches, probably secretly yearning for this physical, human closeness even though he is the one she had chosen and still continues to choose.

“Go to sleep, Jacob. You’re starting to get on my nerves,” Edward says in a low murmur.

A thin smirk hangs on to Jacob’s lips like a veil when he replies, “I think I will. I’m really very comfortable.”

He is unusually satisfied at seeing the Cullen’s luminous eyes narrow just a fraction, the twinges of emotion he managed to stir up in him a source of strange pleasure. Then he shivers when Bella, deep in sleep, exhales a warm breath of air against his collarbone. The sensation is a sweet caress, maybe the closest to a lover’s stroke he will ever get out of her.

Jacob is the name she forms tonight, in this dream.

“See? She does love me.”

“Yes, you’re right to take as much contentment out of this as you can…”

Jacob is determined not to let any thoughts, any vulnerability slip from him again. “What’ll she think of you if she sees you taunting like this?”

He answers smoothly, unperturbed, “I can ask the same of you,”

He knows, thinks Jacob. He knows. Of course he does. He leaves it unsaid though, and tells the other, “She’ll be hurt. And torn. And then something will threaten her life again and we’re right back where we started.” Pausing, the werewolf frowns to himself, reluctant to shift within the sleeping back so the zipper didn’t touch him uncomfortably. “It isn’t fair, you know. You had a head start. Because you realized your love for her first.” Because you dazzled her first.

“All is fair in love and war,” the other quips. “She does love you, only not in the way you would like, and neither of us can fault her for that.”

Jacob growls, “Don’t make it sound like you’ll gladly give her to me if she falls in love with me instead.”

“You make it sound as though Bella is an object, to be had, while all I desire for is her happiness.” Edward brushes his fingers through his bronze-colored hair, his back to the ground as his golden eyes stare straight through and beyond the confines of the tent, to the night sky and its shards of silver light. He is cool, as usual, a block of magnificent ice.

How dare the bloodsucker make his pursuit of love sound unbearably selfish? Who is he, of all people, to insinuate this, when every second she spends with him is nothing but pure peril? Only because she knows she loves him.

“You leeching bastard,” Jacob snarls. The anger within him is hard and scorching like coals when he unzips the sleeping back forcefully, barely hesitant as he pulls his burning body away from Bella’s. He curls his large hands into tense fists. “You have no right—she wouldn’t even be hurt all the time—if you aren’t—”

He gasps out in pain when the vampire pins him down to the ground, knee to his back like a furious, blunted, horrible spear. “Even I cannot control my impulses sometimes, dog,” he whispers dangerously into Jacob’s ears, his words cool as steel, but more cutting than the edge of a blade. Pain, both physical and from humiliation, blazes a trail into Jacob’s chest.

“Get. The fuck off me.”

The second Edward releases his hold, Jacob seizes the other’s right arm and tackles him to the ground with all his weight. It is a liberation, to let free of all the frustration and anger and pain and jealousy, in one brutal shot, a single eruption. There is yearning too, fresh and hot and rising into his eyes like tendrils of smoke. “Never talk about things you know nothing about.”

“I can talk about whatever damn well pleases me,” Jacob shouts, grimacing slightly when he remembers the sleeping Bella again. “I can do whatever damn well pleases me.” Heart hammering away hungrily in his body, he foolishly begins to throw a punch in the direction of Edward’s pretty-boy features.

His hand is caught, and clenched, midair. He can feel the Edward Cullen’s skin on his, clinging lightly, white and shining, like frost. “Don’t—” he protests, attempting to haul his hand back to find that he cannot. He feels himself being pulled closer, closer, closer towards Edward’s beautiful visage, further and further away from his own sanity. He feels a flurry of thoughts flutter through his mind like the pages of familiar books, forbidden ones that he swears Edward can hear as clearly as music.

Then their lips are crushed together, their fingers tangled together like silk ribbons tied in complex knots. Jacob feels the sudden desire to pull back, sputter in resentment and embarrassment, forget this ever happened, but he does not and cannot. This burst of wild desire frightens him almost as much as Edward’s power does.

“I wondered if this was going to occur,” Edward muses. The smile feels funny when his lips are on Jacob’s, when the smile is a small, soft crescent.

His face close enough to the vampire to observe every detail of perfection, Jacob stammers, “Shut up. What do you mean, you wondered if this was going to happen?”

Always calm, Edward responds in the form of a raised eyebrow. “You don’t know your own mind very well, do you, Jacob Black?”

“Of course I do, you jackass.” He struggles to free himself from Edward’s grip once again, despite desperately fearing the loss of this newfound… emotion. Then, almost like there is a magnetic attraction between their bodies, Jacob is onto him again. “You smell like crap,” he mumbles as he looks into his eyes.

“Your scent isn’t precisely floral either, dog,” Edward replies. He wrinkles his nose but closes the space between his lips and Jacob’s again with a rough kiss.

His fingers dig into Edward’s slender hips viciously, sinking into the firm flesh there, yet drawing nothing except a short, satisfied whimper in return but God it feels so good to be able to do this and not thinking about anything and especially not Bella and this can’t be anything that isn’t flawless.

“I hate you.”

Wickedly Edward slides his cold fingertips beneath the werewolf’s thin shirt, exploring the contours of muscle and bruises and cruel scarring, fascinated. “Sure you do.” These are words meant for one person, carefully slinking into Jacob’s mouth, which opens in ragged breathing.

Really, Jacob really does hate him, quite a lot, and he keeps wanting to hurt the vampire in all sorts of unbelievably ways but stopping himself as soon as his beautiful eyes penetrate him. And when did his shirt get tossed to the other end of the tent, where Bella sleeps? What are they even doing?

Jacob imagines himself falling, falling, falling deep into an icy, violent sea, storms brewing around him in swirls of salt and rain water, drowning in the chaos and waves, but he finds that he doesn’t give a damn, at all.


Jacob wakes up warm and distraught, while Edward needs no waking up at all. His shirt is back on; his posture is upright, as though whatever happened the night previous didn’t matter to him. Or maybe he’s trying hard not to think about it or look at the other person—

Like Jacob is trying to. “I fell asleep.”

“People tend to.” Is there anything to say anymore? Everything has been said already, last night, when they both wanted to go on, when their clothes were full of each other’s stink, when they said things about their condition that they can never openly admit to Bella.

When they stopped at the nick of time. I hate you but I lo—he had began to say. Then Edward had interrupted him with, Don’t say it, Jacob. Please. So he listened to the vampire, just that once and never again, and didn’t. Instead he half-shouted, I hate you.

Go on. Edward sighed then, drawing his hands back to his sides.

I hate you. I hate you as much as she loves you, as much as she’ll ever love you, as much as I could’ve— You’ve taken everything away from me. You hold all the cards in your hands. You’ll live forever, and I’ll die. You can see everything in my head but I don’t understand you, not one bit. Jacob may have sobbed then, or yelled, or just thought it in his head; he can’t remember now. You have everything. I hate you.

“It would have never worked anyway,” he tells Edward, trying to convince him as much as himself.

Edward only nods, seeing and hearing the recollection in him like a painting with vivid strokes of paint and a mournful title. “No. And she doesn’t need to know.”

Attempting a grin that comes out crooked, Jacob replies, “She loves me, and will love me, at least.” Unlike you. Not answering, Edward seems to be shying away from the sunshine that slowly trickles into the tent from the morning sky outside. “But she doesn’t need to know. It would just hurt her more.”

“I have to choose her, Jacob. I’ll regret it for the rest of my unnatural—life if I don’t. You must understand,” Edward explains, his gaze elsewhere.

Jacob states, “I choose her too. It’s better that way. We both loved her first, and for her to be happy, that’s all that matters.” His broken lips are stained bitter by what could have been, nonetheless.

Her eyes flutter delicately as she awakens, surprised to find Jacob’s hands hugging his knees instead of in the sleeping bag with her. It is a shock to him all over again how beautiful she is, her soft eyes blurred from slow consciousness, long locks of brown hair drifting over her features kindly. She glances up at Edward tenderly, saying, “How was your night?”

As though yearning to softly whisper something more, Edward’s gaze finds Jacob’s, and they lock together, like darkness fading into pure light.
someone's Hooked-On-Phonics...: Twilight: edward: protecting virtuefomp on October 10th, 2007 11:03 pm (UTC)
Well, goodness. That's certainly a side of that night I hadn't considered, for some reason.

Good job. :D
miscellaneous heathenpre_expansion on October 18th, 2007 04:11 am (UTC)
Just wanted to let you know that I absolutely love your icon! Did you make it?
someone's Hooked-On-Phonics...: SPN: oh I didfomp on October 18th, 2007 10:41 am (UTC)
Sadly, I did not. :( Nor can I remember off of the top of my head, but if you go to my Userpic page, I give credit to those icons that aren't mine. :)
kai: Bella and edward whiteborder.kaiwynn on October 10th, 2007 11:57 pm (UTC)
Oh. My god.

You are the most amazing person on the planet.

I loved this fic more than almost anything else -- it totally and completely made my day!

Everything about their dialogue, their character, their passionate hate, is completely perfect.

Parts like this make me squeal in delight:

Because you dazzled her first.


Then their lips are crushed together, their fingers tangled together like silk ribbons tied in complex knots.

because for some reason that ribbon imagery is just amazing.

And Jacob telling Edward he hates him, and Edward smirking. This:

"I hate you but I lo—he had began to say. Then Edward had interrupted him with, Don’t say it, Jacob. Please."

was so beautiful and so real and right. *gush*

Is there anything else I can tell you that will prove how much I love you? You're my best friend right now! :D
book_rapportbook_rapport on October 11th, 2007 03:34 am (UTC)
I think this is wonderful! Edward/Jacob is a hard couple to write within anything remotely canon because the center of the entire series revolves around Bella and Edward's fated romance. But you're written a very realistic, IMO, and true-to-canon version of a couple that would be completely impossible if the histories of the characters are kept canon.

I think you've written a beautifully understated piece here; raw emotion tightly reined, and a sense of self-restraint in both the characters' and the acutal writing.

Great job!! :)
Peshapesha on October 11th, 2007 10:28 pm (UTC)
Oh I agree with so much of what has already been said before me! This was both plausible and sweet. Very tangible. I really enjoyed both depictions of Edward and Jacob here. Thank you so much for taking a chance and writing such a lovely story!
show me your teethchaotic_vanity on October 12th, 2007 12:35 am (UTC)
Oh my god, I love you. Believable, real, raw emotion... You're brilliant.
wisedracowisedraco on October 29th, 2007 01:04 am (UTC)
This was fantastic!!! There should be more E/J fanfics out there...Bella pisses me off...heh heh heh....beautifully written!!!
Jackie Lamagnifique: by duskicons jacob half-nakedtju_tju_tju_tju on December 9th, 2007 05:52 pm (UTC)
This was absolutely fantastic. Just...perfect. I'm really very impressed. Outstanding job - you have their characterizations down so well.
maria cristinarunwayrose on January 25th, 2008 09:04 pm (UTC)
omg,twilight goes brokeback =[
this is so good, yet so sad... cuz heath and jake, well it should be
gaspard and heath now =[
i hate this, and i love it all the same... =[
the same emptyness i felt as ennies del mar said jack i swear...
i felt just now, as edward and jacob locked their eyes.
so sad... =[ cuz bella IS whiny.
we should tell steph to weaken her whines XD