icmezzo_archive | Fic: Said and Done (14/25) (Reply)

Said and done

Synopsis: Graduate students Edward and Jasper feel the connection, but is it enough to overcome their differences? (E/J slash, vamp/human, comedy/romance, rated NC-17)

Click here to reach the SaD Masterpost.

Chapter 14: Encore

A/N: You may want to hear the piece of music Edward and Jasper studied for their music theory class last semester at a certain point in the chapter. You can find it at http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=XCkM2a4daZU

Thanks to TwilightMundi for betaing this and every chapter. Thanks also to Yogagal and Bookjunkie1975 for their knowledge that made the final author's note possible.

Disclaimer: All copyrights, trademarked items, or recognizable characters, plots, etc., mentioned herein belong to their respective owners. No copying or reproduction of this work is permitted without express authorization.

Chapter 14: Encore

"I want to hear you play," Jasper announced one afternoon several days later from where he lay spread out on his bed reading his textbook on early Mesopotamia.

"Why?" I looked up at him from where I sat at his desk working on my own homework—I was hastily writing out a trumpet part to accompany one of my harpsichord pieces.

I mean, it wasn't as though I was embarrassed to play in front of Jasper, but neither was I eager to take up our limited free time together staring at sheet music instead of at him.

"Because I want to. Please?" he asked.

It was silly to pretend I wouldn't give in to him. "Well, if you want to hear me, why don't I just put on a recording of mine while we study sometime?" I suggested. I could just run to the music school and make one some evening while Jasper slept.

"That's not what I mean and you know it," he replied.

"Fine," I conceded. "When?"

"How about Friday after class? I can just meet you in the music school. You have a practice room, right?" he asked.

"That time should work. But I'll meet you outside the school instead," I told him.

If Jasper wanted to hear me play, he wouldn't have to do so in a grungy, cramped little practice room on a subpar piano.

Nothing but the best for him. Ever.

XXXXX

"Have you never been in here before?" I asked Jasper late the next afternoon.

I glanced at him when I received no response. He was shaking his head slowly. I took a deep breath searching for the faded scent of him that might linger anywhere else in the auditorium. I couldn't find a trace of him. No wonder he was looking around with awe. The concert hall was rather impressive I suppose.

Overnight I had managed to get my hands on a key to the best recital hall the school had to offer. I also may have broken into the online reservation system and switched around a few things so I could book the space for a few hours. I didn't want anyone interrupting us.

I looked over at Jasper who was still staring out at row after row of seats in the darkened hall. The stage was empty but for the concert grand in the center and was lit by a few spotlights.

So I gave us a little mood lighting. No one could accuse me of not being thorough.

When I finally got Jasper's attention, I told him he could sit anywhere he liked, though I may have suggested he head approximately 2/3 of the way back into the seats where the acoustics were the best. And of course, I let him know that most people preferred to watch pianists from the side of the hall that provided the best view of the musician's hands. As I mentioned these things I unlocked the piano's keyboard and lifted the lid, and adjusted my bench a bit before sitting down.

But despite my recommendations, Jasper just sat himself down in the front row, leaned back, and propped his feet against the front ledge of the stage. I tried not to smile.

"What would you like me to play?" I asked once he was settled.

"Debussy. Reflets dans l'eau, of course," he answered without hesitation.

"Of course," I replied. We'd spent so much time studying it even a human would have memorized it. I glanced at the keyboard and readied myself except that I heard the telltale creak of an auditorium seat folding. I looked over at Jasper and sure enough he was now standing. Except before I could ask if he'd changed his mind and didn't want to hear me play after all, he raised his hands over his head while he grinned broadly.

It wasn't until he began swooping his arms though the air that I realized he was pretending to conduct me.

I laughed for a moment with him before eventually taking his cue.

I began to play.

My fingers found the correct keys at the correct times with little effort on the part of my mind, so instead I focused on the emotion behind the music, made so much more meaningful because it was Jasper's request to hear it. It meant something to him, so it meant something more to me. His presence gave new purpose to the swells and ebbs of the piece, the sounds and the empty space between them now filled with meaning. To say he inspired the playing would not do his influence justice; the notes on the page were suddenly about him, for him, and composed of him. Technical mastery was no longer the goal. How had I never known there was so so much more?

Just over halfway through the piece, Jasper left his seat and wandered onto the stage. He stopped at the far end of the piano, where he leaned in, presumably to watch the instrument sound. I found his placement ideal as I was able to watch him as I played. He studied the piano strings for a few seconds before he looked up and met my gaze.

With our eyes locked, I played the rest of the song to Jasper.

When I finished the final notes of the piece, I listened as the last sounds reverberated throughout the vacant auditorium. Jasper, for his part, was nearly as still as a vampire, and his eyes, unblinking, held mine.

Apparently it would be up to me to break the silence.

"It is customary to clap, you know," I joked, but he wasn't smiling, which bothered me a bit. "I mean, it wasn't perfect because I hadn't had the opportunity to prepare in advance." I had to admit that. But still, shouldn't he be at least saying 'good job' or something? But no, he just stood there silently.

"Well, common courtesy would indicate that at least a few light claps of appreciation might be appropriate," I huffed, as he started to walk around the side of the piano. "I mean, it isn't like you have to call for an encore or anything. Even a thank you would be sufficient if you felt uninspired to clap."

I looked down and babbled on, eager to fill the silence with my explanations of proper etiquette on the part of a listener to demonstrate his or her appreciation of classical music depending on his or her level of enthusiasm. As I did so, Jasper moved so he was standing right next to my piano bench.

"Edward?" he interrupted me, tilting my face to look at his. "Shut up, will you?"

"I... wha—?" I started to ask, but stopped when he shook his head and smiled gently.

And then, he bent down, and I turned my cheek to him, hopeful that he was about to reward my song with a peck on the cheek.

But I felt his hands urging me to turn back to face him. So, I relented, and looked at him again.

And I was just in time to see him lean in and place his lips lightly on mine.

And then he pulled away, and I was fairly certain he took my heart with him.

His eyes, however, were questioning. But as for me, for the first time I could remember, I had no questions—only absolute certainty about one very important thing.

We had to do that again.

So I pulled Jasper carefully onto my lap, and with my arms around him, I swallowed several times and then with the spotlights and 1,000 empty seats staring at us, I kissed him properly.

And I did so no fewer than nine and one-half times, the half being when I kissed his jaw in my haste to have my lips on him while he gasped for air.

When his own lips were beginning to appear a bit swollen, whether from traces of my venom or the bruising that might occur when repeatedly mashing your face into a chunk of cold marble, I forced us to stop. I wouldn't want to give him cause to regret our activity.

"Come back to my room tonight?" Jasper asked breathlessly.

I looked at him, completely confused. "I've been at your place all week. Was tonight supposed to be different?" Yeah, my task of keeping an eye on Jasper had proved delightful.

"No, Edward," he sighed, and ran his hands through his hair. "I want you to come back to my room tonight. Not the couch where you pretend to watch infomercials all night, or my kitchen which you snoop through to make sure I'm 'feeding sufficiently' as you put it. I want you to come back to my room."

"Oh. Sure." I said very seriously. He wanted me in his room.

It's a good thing I was just as comfortable on the floor as any couch. Or maybe I could sit in his desk chair, or maybe, if I was very careful, on the corner of his bed. It wasn't the largest bed though, I had to admit. I wondered if he'd mind sharing. I decided to ask. "Would you mind it terribly if I joined you on the bed?"

Now it was his turn to look at me as though I was the crazy one. "I don't even want to know what you thought I meant before. Of course you can join me on the bed," he grinned. "I just want you with me while I sleep. I don't like to think of you sitting cold and alone on the couch."

"So you'd rather have me cold and in your bed?" I joked.

"Would you rather stay on the couch?" he teased. "Because that can be arranged."

"No! No. I'm good. The bed would be great!" I answered quickly. "Please! I want to go to bed with you!"

He wiggled his eyebrows. "I bet you do." And he kissed me again.

XXXXX

After we regained some measure of composure, we left the music school, and I took Jasper for a quick dinner in the dining hall. I joined him there for most lunches and dinners now, but no breakfasts. The glares I still received from various kitchen staff members made me uncomfortable.

After dinner, it was a few hours of studying history in the library for Jasper and a few hours of studying Jasper for me.

And then finally, finally, we returned to Jasper's place. And as per his earlier request, instead of sitting at his desk or on his floor, or couch, or in his kitchen—which I still maintain was very unsatisfactorily stocked—I sat on the corner of his bed.

After a bathroom stop, Jasper came into his room and started sifting through his dresser drawers. Whatever he was after, it was taking too long. His system was clearly very inefficient. I jumped up, and quickly joined him, snagging the piles of soft fabrics from him and folding everything and arranging it for him by color, then by size, and finally alphabetically by brand.

Before Jasper could say, "But... my... pajamas?" I was finished and explaining the very simple organizational structure I'd just established for him.

"Uh, thanks," he said, staring at the drawer of now-folded pajama pants and largely faded t-shirts.

"Sure. Now it will take less time for you in the future," I explained.

"For someone who plans to live forever, you sure don't like to waste a moment, do you?" he asked.

"Oh, it's just time with you that I don't like to waste," I replied.

He just smiled and offered me some pajamas so I could be comfortable. I wasn't about to turn him down. I wanted to smell him on me, and besides, he still had my sweater.

He handed me a pair of pajama pants and while he turned around to pick out a pair for himself I quickly changed, counting on the fact that I'd accomplish the task more quickly than his eyes could follow. Except that I didn't realize until I was standing there largely naked that he hadn't given me a shirt. I threw on his pajama pants and retrieved my worn button-down shirt from the floor, put it back on and started working on the buttons when Jasper noticed.

"You can leave it off, you know. It's just me. Unless you think you'll get cold?" he smiled.

I suppose he had a point. Besides, after I'd seen him in the towel the other morning, this was probably only fair. I had never been so glad for my perfect memory as I had been the day I'd seen Jasper dripping wet and barely covered. Now I could see him like that any time that I wanted. Such as right now. Yup, there he was. I sighed happily.

He gave me an odd look, but I ignored it and started to undress instead, doing so much more slowly than I'd previously disrobed, trying to focus on my shirt's never-ending buttons instead of the feel of Jasper's eyes on me.

When I finished, and folded my clothing and set it on his chair, I looked up at him as we stood there facing each other, both dressed only in pairs of Jasper's pajama pants, which hung low on our hips.

We simultaneously ran our hands through our own hair, and then laughed at our synchronicity. It broke the tension a bit.

Jasper climbed on his bed and sat against his headboard. He patted the space next to him, indicating I should join him.

He didn't have to tell me twice. I leaped over him and landed next to him, also backed up against his headboard. Perfect. I tilted my head so I could watch Jasper's face.

"You know why I wanted to write about the Golden Ratio in the first place?" he asked. I shook my head. He'd never said why he wanted to write on the topic. But even so, whatever he wanted was fine with me.

Jasper told me about how he'd studied the concept of the golden ratio when he'd been learning about architecture, some of which followed the theory, but that he'd actually appreciated it more when it occurred naturally.

"So when I first saw you in class at the beginning of the semester," Jasper explained, "I knew you were beautiful, that your face had that timeless classical look, but I couldn't figure out why it was so striking. It took me awhile to realize that your own face follows the divine proportion, giving you the look of perfection. And for the record, the rest of your family members' faces do as well—or at least those that I've met. It must be just another vampire thing."

Just another vampire thing. He said it so casually. I didn't know whether to be overjoyed or concerned.

"Jasper, I'm supposed to be scary to you, you know," I pointed out.

"Oh yeah, you're terrifying," he deadpanned.

"No, I mean it! See, look, I have fangs!" I opened my mouth and pointed at my teeth.

He pretended to shiver. "Well, your breath is pretty scary anyway."

I slammed my mouth shut, panicked.

He laughed and took my hand. "You're such a dork."

I frowned, but kept my mouth shut, afraid to open it to disagree.

"Edward, you're fine. I was kidding. Come on. Show me your fangs again."

I opened my mouth just enough to grimace.

"There, very frightening. I'm scared to death, okay?"

I nodded. As long as he understood that I was a terrifying monster.

We sat in silence for a few more minutes until Jasper yawned one too many times. "Time for bed, I think," he commented.

I agreed, eager to watch him sleep.

He started to climb under his blankets. "Did you want to be on top or...?" he asked.

I looked back in horror. Did we really have to decide right now? I wasn't at all prepared for that. I looked at the pajama pants Jasper had given me. They didn't seem to indicate a preference, nor did my hair or the way I was sitting on the bed, I was sure of it. How could I tell him that I just wasn't certain abou—

"Edward? Did you want to get under the covers or stay on top?" he asked, confused by my obvious hesitation.

"I...oh. Oh!" I cried, delighted by the sudden change of topic. "Beneath. With you," I said confidently.

I could make decisions about blankets. That was no problem at all. I could do blankets. I mean, I wouldn't do his blankets, not like I did with his tree, I mean. Especially not with him in the bed. But I could make a decision about them. That was easy enough. I already liked most kinds of blankets anyways. Except for purple ones. I frowned. I never cared much for purple blankets. But most others were quite nice. I especially liked flannel ones, and I hummed a bit thinking about how nice and soft they were. And then there were those ones that had the—

"Edward, do you ever stop thinking?" Jasper asked suddenly.

"Nope," I replied, but then realized that wasn't true. "Actually, yes. I find myself entirely unable to think when I'm kissing you."

"Then for god's sakes, kiss me, please."

So I did. More than once, too.

A/N: You know how when your friends try to tell you about their dreams (the kind they have at night, not like, their goals and ambitions) and you have to pretend to listen and care? So you nod a lot and say a few uh-huhs until you look up and notice your friend's mouth has stopped moving? And then you have to struggle to come up with some sort of response because your friend is expecting you to help them analyze every single detail?

Come on, we've all done it. Don't judge.

And then you know how you promised yourself you'd never force your friends to ever listen to the details of a dream ever again because you don't want to put them through that?

Well, that's the reason that, despite your pleading reviews, I refuse to subject you to the details of Jasper's dreams about Edward; friends just don't tell dreams to friends.

*Ducks as readers throw hardcover copies of Breaking Dawn (are there any other kind?) at head*

Okay, okay! I get it. You wanna know. Fine then. Have it your way. Here's the dream Jasper had the last night before returning to campus for his final semester of grad school (i.e., the night Jasper Googled "vampires," and "Edward Cullen," while the Edward engaged in some self-loving in Jasper's pine tree, also known as Chapter 11). And please, don't fault Jasper for his dream; he'd had a very long day.

Jasper sat down in the sleek black car, closing the door behind him and breathing in the intoxicating scent of the leather seats. Meanwhile, Edward, dressed largely in black and with some sort of headgear containing large pointed ears, sat down in the driver's seat next to him. Edward shifted somewhat ungracefully (for a vampire) once he shut his own car door, presumably to avoid sitting on the dark cape he was suddenly wearing.

Jasper looked at Edward, and admired his rather bulging muscles and impressive chest from the passenger seat. And then he realized that Edward's sculpted torso now bore an emblem of a large black bat.

Huh, Jasper thought. So Edward is Batman.

Jasper decided that was not just awesome, but totally hot.

Just then Edward started the car, and Jasper felt the Batmobile come to life beneath him. Edward wove through the streets of Seattle, making their way to the outskirts of the city. Once they found the highway, they headed away from civilization and into the dark night.

After awhile, Edward offered to let Jasper drive. Being a warm-blooded male, Jasper eagerly agreed.

Without stopping, the two traded spots. Edward began coaching Jasper on how to start and drive the car, whispering such directions as, "Don't let go of the stick," and "You may need to pump it a few times," which Jasper found aroused him to no end despite the fact that when he looked down he noticed his jeans had turned into pantyhose, which he now wore beneath a small green Speedo.

It was then that Jasper noticed the tightness around his neck. He clutched his hand to his throat, trying to ascertain the cause when Edward offered to help him.

"Capes can be tricky if you're not accustomed to them," he said, as he adjusted the bright yellow cape Jasper found himself wearing.

Suddenly, the Batmobile stopped, which Jasper found to be convenient because he could then focus entirely on the feeling of Edward's hands partially undressing him, or at least, loosening his cape.

After the cape was off, without warning Edward turned to Jasper and kissed him passionately on the lips. Without hesitation, Jasper kissed him back thoroughly, to which Edward responded by placing his hand on Jasper's erection.

Jasper moaned as the masked man crushed his mouth into his own, while teasing him through his Speedo.

"Would you like to come in my Batcave?" Edward asked in a low sultry voice. Being a warm-blooded gay male, Jasper eagerly agreed. Would he ever!

They got out of the car, but before they went any further, Jasper noticed that pieces of their clothing started disappearing before his eyes. Edward lost his shirt first, and then his own tights followed immediately after Jasper's disappeared. Soon, Jasper wore little besides his green Speedo while Edward wore only his cape, headgear, and black underwear. And judging by the way it was beginning to shimmer, Jasper could tell that the latter wouldn't be present much longer either.

Suddenly, the last of Jasper's clothing disappeared, leaving him completely bare. He suddenly longed for his yellow cape to wrap himself in. It was hardly fair that Edward would get to see him first considering it was Jasper's dream. But Edward, for his part, seemed not to notice his own near-nudity. Instead, he simply picked up the now naked Jasper and sat him on the hood of the car.

He stood and looked hungrily down at Jasper through his mask.

"I want to suck your... cock," the caped, masked, gay, mostly-naked Batman-Dracula Edward said in a low voice and with an unforgivably bad accent.

Jasper lay back on the still-warm hood of the Batmobile and propped himself up on his elbows. He watch through hooded lids as Edward gripped his length and leaned down to take him in his mouth.

Unfortunately, just as the tip of Edward's tongue reached out to touch the tip of Jasper, the sound of a large tree limb snapping outside of Jasper's window woke him up. And now you know why Jasper's response was to curse at the approximately 6ft, 165lb undead "squirrel" that broke the tree outside his window. I wouldn't have wanted to wake up either.