Squeezing harder onto Jasper's hand, Killian bit down on his tongue to stop a sharp yelp from escaping his lips. The needle moved uncomfortably through his skin, pulling the makeshift wire tight. "Jasper," His voice was tense, choking back the tears in his eyes.
"Deep breaths love, it's almost over." Jasper said softly, drawing comforting circles on the back of Killian's wrist with his thumb. The man's hand was much larger than Killian's, soft and warm. He could feel the strength behind it, see the powerful muscles in his biceps, still he had the most delicate touch of any person Killian had met.
The worst part was when the wire was pulled tight to bring his skin closed together. The large wound had been cleaned out thoroughly beforehand and the skin was still sensitive. Cohen had told Jasper it would be best to stitch it up after making sure it was completely disinfected. That whole process had been painful in itself.
Another unbearable ache followed a sharp, pinching sensation in his leg. He tightened his grip on Jasper's hand, closing his eyes tight and taking a deep breath like the other man had told him to. A few minutes later, Jasper was finished stitching the wound closed. He took out a pocket knife and flipped it open, carefully cutting the small bits of wire left over.
When everything was said and done, Jasper put the knife away and set the extra fishing wire aside. Killian shifted uncomfortably, not exactly fond of the way the wire seemed to tug at his flesh every time he moved. "You'll get used to it," Jasper said softly. He kissed Killian's forehead, leaving a small patch of warmth on his skin. Not sure what to say and his mind occupied with other thoughts, Killian didn't respond. Jasper tilted his head to the side ever-so-slightly, his brows knit together with concern. "You haven't said much today. Are you alright?"
"I'm just," Killian felt a bitter bile raise to the back of his throat. It felt like a hard lump was preventing him from speaking. Swallowing it back he managed, "Thinking. Been thinking a lot today. About...things." His voice trailed off awkwardly. He wasn't good at talking to other people. Killian stared down at his hands, lacing his fingers together and twiddling his thumbs. He couldn't think of anything else to say, or how to even begin.
The familiar scent of Jasper washed over Killian, making him feel suddenly lightheaded as the other man brought him into a hug. With Jasper's strong arms around him, he felt safe and secure—protected from the outside world. "Anything in particular bothering you?" Jasper paused, then his voice hardened. "Anybody bothering you?"
Stammering clumsily Killian replied, "Kind of—well, no—but a bit, maybe." He shook his head, trying to clear his thoughts. Pressing his face into Jasper's shoulder Killian mumbled, "Talking is hard."
"It can be," Jasper agreed. He ran his fingers through Killian's curly hair, cradling the smaller man against him. "But you know, sometimes it's better to say it out loud than bottling it all up inside." He explained, "Cause' eventually, that bottle's bound to explode, and that might hurt other people. Whether we want it to or not."
After a while of silence Jasper added, "Whatever it is, you can-"
"You can't love me!" Killian finally managed to blurt out, clenching his fists and breaking away from Jasper's gentle hold. He glared away, avoiding as much eye contact as possible. Why did Jasper have to make things so difficult? Why couldn't he just get mad, yell at him, throw something, any normal reaction? Something predictable Killian could understand. Something that was familiar, that he knew how to process. Instead, he was met with grim silence. The air was still now, pulled taught like a string ready to snap.
Just when the tension was becoming unbearable Jasper finally said, "Why not?" Killian only found his frustration mounting. Jasper wasn't angry. He wasn't disappointed. He didn't yell, he didn't get violent. He just...spoke. Calm. As if Killian hadn't said anything that should warrant any explosive reaction.
Killian could feel his heart beating hard in his chest. So hard that it was like it desperately wanted to escape. Gripping the bed beneath him as hard as possible in an attempt to ground himself Killian spat, "You should hate me. All I've said to you, every single insult, demeaning comment, condescending tones—it's all been to shove you away, and you're still here."
A snarl wrinkled at Killian's lips as he continued, "You...you're not like anybody else I've met. Just yell, get mad at me! Everything I've done, you're just sitting there, looking at me. I've tried to do everything in my power to stop people from getting close enough to hurt me, but you come along and just ruin that." Killian shook his head, "You shouldn't love me. I've done nothing to deserve it." Before he could stop them, the aching in his heart summoned tears to his eyes. "I don't deserve it." He repeated.
Silently, Jasper turned Killian's chin to look him in the eyes. Killian refused, glaring down at the bed sheets beneath them. He couldn't stop the tears, which only made him more frustrated, leading to even more tears. Killian hated how easy it was to be vulnerable around Jasper—rather, he hated that he was perfectly comfortable being vulnerable around him.
"Killian," Jasper said softly, "Don't ever think like that. You deserve so much more than you've been given." Killian tore his eyes away from the bed and forced himself to meet the other man's eyes. "If I could change the way you see yourself," Jasper murmured softly, "Then maybe you'd understand just how wrong everybody else is." The man set a large hand on Killian's cheek, tracing his cheekbone with his thumb. "As long as I'm here, nobody can hurt you."
Taking a few deep breaths, Killian closed his eyes tight, unsure of what to do. His attempts to catch his breath didn't work too well. "My father," Killian said shakily, "He wasn't a good man, Jasper. He drank a lot. That's why I hated that bar. It just..." It was hard for Killian to speak, to explain everything. But he had to eventually, so he forced himself to. As the first words tumbled into the open, the others poured out. "He would come home every day angry. I don't know why he was so...so mad at me. I didn't do anything. But he," Killian clenched his jaw. "He hurt me. A lot."
"Those are where all of my scars are from," Killian said. Tugging his shirt over his head, he hesitantly set it aside. The cold air on his bare torso was something very familiar, but very uncomfortable. He closed his eyes tight, hugging his arms close to his body. He wasn't self-conscious, he was scared.
Hearing a quiet and sharp intake of breath from Jasper, Killian pinned his eyes to the sheets beneath him. Jasper's thumb traced the outline of the scars—the terrible echoes of the past—etched deep into his back, right between his shoulders. Just over his shoulder, Killian could just barely snatch the marks left on him, a permanent reminder that his father would always be with him, if not in presence then in the haunted memories of his mind. "He did that to you?" Jasper's voice shook. "Why?"
"Father lost custody of me for a while, until he got me back I was sent to live with Jackson. In Jackson's gang, there was another guy I liked." Killian explained softly. "So I was an idiot. I told the pastor at the church father and I went to—because I was raised to think that was a sin. Obviously, the pastor told him. That's how he found out." Killian shuddered, "I thought they could 'cure' me. But...life doesn't work out that way, I guess. They hurt me instead."
"Because of that one stupid mistake, everybody found out. Everybody hated me. I hated myself." Killian's nose wrinkled into a bitter snarl, "So the gang abandoned me when the biters showed up. They said they wouldn't need 'one of my kind.' I threatened to tell Jackson when we met up with the rest. So they shot me and left me to die instead." Killian leaned back against Jasper, craving some sort of comfort. "That's how Jackson and I got separated. The only reason the gang didn't kill me when we first saw them was because most of the people who knew didn't make it. I'm guessing Jackson silenced the others with a warning."
"That fight you got into," Jasper said softly. "That wasn't about Aubrey, was it?"
"No," Killian replied. "It was...about me."
Turning around to face Jasper so he wouldn't have to look at the awful scars on his back, Killian pressed his forehead against the other man's. Jasper nuzzled him, holding Killian's cheek in one hand. "Jasper," Killian said shakily, "I love you, you know. I just..." He looked down, "People told me terrible things. I thought you would hate me." Killian sighed, "They said I was filthy. Tainted. I guess they assumed I was promiscuous, but I hadn't ever even kissed anybody. So...I heard it so much I thought maybe you'd believe it when I told you."
A soft sigh left Jasper's lips, "I'd never think that of you, love." He said, "Even if it was true, it wouldn't matter. How many partners somebody's had doesn't define them as a person." A sheepish smile slowly spread across Jasper's lips as he sat up and rubbed the back of his neck, "I would know, personally."
Killian closed his eyes, enjoying the comfortable silence. Without all of the problems in his past haunting his mind, with Jasper acceptance—he could finally relax, to some extent. Being this close to Jasper wasn't relaxing, not completely. There was a bit of jittering nerves, unsure of what would happen next. Killian knew what he wanted, he wanted Jasper. His thoughts immediately stopped when he felt Jasper move hesitantly closer. He peeked open one eye—Jasper looked calm, peaceful, his eyes still closed.
Closing his eyes again, Killian couldn't help but wonder what Jasper was thinking. Could Jasper tell his breathing was uneven and anxious? Could the other man feel just how tense Killian was? Had Jasper moved closer just get more comfy? No, they were sitting up. Maybe Jasper was more comfortable, but Killian's back was starting to ache a bit. Before he could stop himself any further, Killian met Jasper halfway.
Anxious and unsure, a million thoughts ran through Killian's mind all at once. Jasper's lips were soft, definitely much more confident. A soft chuckle rumbled through Jasper's chest. Killian could feel his cheeks heating up. Could Jasper tell how awkward he was? If he could, he said nothing about it.
At first Jasper's kiss was teasing, playful even. After a few seconds though, when Killian began to relax and ease into it, Jasper took over. The larger man cradled the back of Killian's head with one hand, tangling his fingers into Killian's soft curls. The only thing Killian could feel now was the heat between his body and Jasper's. Intense, passionate—definitely something he hadn't felt before.
Drawing in a sharp breath as he felt a warm hand on his ribs, Killian faltered for a few seconds. Jasper's touch was delicate, just barely grazing across his sensitive skin. "Jasper," Killian's voice grew uneven as he broke away from their kiss, his heart racing in his chest. Beneath Jasper's hand, Killian's whole body grew hot. He leaned up to kiss Jasper again, growing more and more eager by the second. He wanted more. Could he handle more? Definitely not. Did it mean he didn't want it? Another definite no.
"It's no fair if only one of us is shirtless," Jasper mumbled. Killian's pulse jumped as the other man tugged his shirt off impatiently, tossing it carelessly aside. A pitiful squeak left his lips as Jasper pressed his body up against Killian's. Now, he could feel the raw strength behind Jasper's strong build. This man was dangerous, something he'd never thought about before. Dangerous and yet, his touch was oh so sweet.
Before Killian had never really considered how slight he was in comparasin. He knew he wasn't small, he had a bit of muscle too. But it wasn't anything compared to Jasper. A soft gasp left him before he could stop it. Jasper's large hand had moved from his ribs down to his lower stomach. Jasper's lips moved away from their kiss, delicately brushing up against Killian's lower jaw. Immediately Killian tilted his head to the side. His hand clenched tight onto Jasper's arm, his breathing getting quick and sharp.
"Mm," Jasper murmured softly, "Is that nice?" Killian couldn't tell if he was teasing or not. He could feel the deep bass of Jasper's voice rumbling through his chest on his bare skin. The ability to think had completely left him. Jasper's hand left a lingering trail of warmth as it travelled down from his stomach to the inside of his upper thigh. A shudder ran down Killian's spine, chills raising the hairs on the back of his neck. He no longer wanted Jasper, he needed him.
A few split seconds of a pause let Killian know, Jasper had seen it. The tattoo peeking just above the waistband of his jeans. His hand moved there, his thumb tracing the outline of a petal just above his hip. He hesitated for a few moments, unsure. Killian felt a new kind of anxiety then. It was half anticipation, half self-conscious. "Go ahead." He whispered softly. Jasper's blue eyes flickered up towards him for a few split seconds, still hesitating. Killian avoided looking at Jasper, averting his own gaze. He nodded once, a sheepish smile twitching at his lips.
Jasper kissed Killian's lips briefly, then helped Killian undress, careful to avoid hurting his injured leg. Killian stared down, his hands clenched tight onto one of the sheets. The air was cold against his naked body, his heart beating fast against his chest. His mind raced, wondering what Jasper was thinking. What Killian himself was thinking. He hadn't been thinking. All he could remind himself of was the love he felt for this man, every tender glance, every hug. Every forehead kiss, soft words exchanged, selfless acts to protect one another.
"You're beautiful," Jasper said softly, pressing a soft kiss on Killin's cheek. Killian felt as if his heart was going to burst. That word. Beautiful. Not just handsome. He'd been called handsome before, but never beautiful. It was something he'd often wondered; it was considered emasculating, but when Jasper said it, it meant more to him than any other word had.
Jasper's eyes trailed over the tattoo, roses tangled in thorns. It ran along the curve of his hips, down his body and stopping just above his knee. Jasper's hand slowly trailed over the black ink, his finger delicately tracing the winding, intricate thorns. Jasper brushed his lips along Killian's collarbone briefly, then lowered his body until he laid down. Leaning his head back against the soft pillow at the top of the bed, Killian could feel his legs tensing up, the anticipation clenching at his lower stomach. As Jasper gently grazed his inner thigh with a single finger, Killian's breath shuddered. "Jasper," He said softly, breathless.
Killian heard the quiet jingle of metal, the sound of a belt being undone. Jasper kissed his lips, leaning over him. He cupped Killian's cheeks in his large, comforting hands. "Relax." He said softly. Killian laid his head back, closing his eyes. Feeling his mind fog over, he finally let go. All of his defenses crumbled, leaving him completely vulnerable. He felt his body relax, Jasper's lips on his neck, and sank into his lover's warm embrace.
❖ ❖ ❖
Jasper quickly locked his lips with Killian's in an attempt to muffle his loud cries. It didn't work. The walls of the farmhouse were thin. It was very, very likely that everybody was aware of everything. Killian's nails dug into his back painfully, dragging across his skin. His lover's back arched with one last, loud outburst. A deep shudder ran down Killian's spine. Jasper felt his legs tighten around his waist briefly, until Killian's body relaxed just a few seconds later.
Panting softly, Killian's eyes were glazed over. Jasper shared his exhaustion, but knew his job wasn't completely over just yet. There was still after care—which he was directly responsible for. He pressed a soft kiss on Killian's forehead, waiting until his partner's breathing evened out again. Few words had been exchanged between them. Killian had fallen asleep after Jasper had slipped his t-shirt onto him. It was large on the smaller man, but he very much enjoyed the sight of it. Even as Killian slept, Jasper was tempted to leave a myriad of kisses all over Killian's face. Of course, he refrained.
The next morning he woke up with Killian laying on his chest, still fast asleep, snoring softly. He could see the very visible bruises along his partner's neck and collarbone from the—perhaps too eager—love bites and kisses. When Killian drifted awake, he immediately winced. "Christ," he mumbled, casting Jasper an accusatory glare. "You did this to me."
"You seemed to like it at the time." Jasper immediately recieved a smack on the shoulder, which he knew he deserved. "If it'll make it up to you, I'll talk Tom into letting you sleep for the day."
"Mhm." Killian was already drifting off again by the time Jasper managed to force himself out of bed. Haphazardly getting dressed, he checked his reflection in the vanity. Thankfully his shirt covered all of the bruises on his own body. Lacing up his boots, he gave Killian one last kiss on the forehead before reluctantly leaving the room.
Immediately, he was met by the stares of others in the group. Their stares didn't exactly bother him, but he knew they would have definitely bothered Killian. Although, he did feel a bit of pride. Now they knew Killian was his. If they hadn't guessed before then, they definitely knew now.
Heading down the stairs, Jasper was given a pointed glance by Tom, a smirk from Darren, and a devious smile from Aubrey. With a reluctant sigh he pinched the bridge of his nose. "Get it out of your system, then."
"You fucking killed him, dude!" Aubrey immediately exclaimed. "Christ, is he still alive?"
"Aubrey!" Tom immediately scolded. Darren was still attempting to hide his snickering.
"Don't bother him," Jasper growled. "If you must then take your jibes out on me, but leave him the Hell alone."
"As if we wouldn't already." Jasper ignored Aubrey's comment.
"If any of you mention anything to him," Jasper said, "I've got two bullets left in my gun and a tire iron for any extras."
"Right," Darren said with a nod.
Tom raised a brow, sipping some chamomile tea from his mug. "I'm guessing our favorite grumpy crossbow-wielding hunter will be out of commission for the day?" Jasper nodded curtly, crossing his arms and narrowing his eyes. He cast a challenging glare towards the others. To his satisfaction, nobody uttered another word.