Chapter Text
Carlisle
Their time alone was rapidly coming to an end. Two weeks of building a comfortable daily routine with Jacob. Esme had messaged him advising him that Edward would be returning at the end of the week like originally planned, but that she had decided to spend time with Tanya since she was so disappointed and feeling dejected that Edward had found a human to love. Alice and Jasper had taken a page out of Rose and Emmett's book and decided to spend a month traveling alone. Part of him felt guilty that his family was staying away. Realistically, they might have been exactly where they were now even if Jacob wasn't in the picture. But it was unavoidable that some trailing thoughts whispered that they felt uncomfortable in their own home. Esme, ever the intuitive, was quick to remind him that their family fully supported Carlisle in everything, and whatever needed to happen for him to be happy, they would stand with him in that too.
There was also the letter that Jacob had written to his father.
It hung like a miasma between them. Jacob seemed calmer since writing it, but he had yet to decide whether he would actually send it or not. But he could tell that the young man felt unsure about including Carlisle in the delivery or anything to do with Billy. And for his part, Carlisle didn't want to intrude and offer unsolicited advice.
So, instead, they continued their new routine without either mentioning those uncomfortable conversations that were most definitely necessary to have.
Edward's arrival at the end of their first week together had pretty much gone unnoticed. He spent most his time with Bella or hunting. But Carlisle was glad that his son was back, if only because that meant that when he was away at work, Jacob had someone to spend time with. Bella started coming around the house or the three of them would spend time together in Forks, at least when she wasn’t working. It seemed so easy, this new rhythm they'd carved out for themselves.
Carlisle sighed.
But he knew that reality was not easy, and that they couldn't continue to pretend that tensions with Billy could be ignored. That was another reason that he was secretly glad that his family was mostly scattered for the summer; if Billy were to do something dangerous or ill-advised, there would be less collateral damage.
He supposed he was the more mature of the two—even he was still struggling to come to terms with that—so if he needed to bite the proverbial bullet and bring it up, then he supposed there was nothing else to be done. Jacob was downstairs preparing his dinner as Carlisle pretended to work on reports upstairs. As much as Carlisle enjoyed cooking for him, it seemed that Jacob prized his independence too much to fully allow Carlisle to took for him at all times.
Still, Carlisle prized the times that he was allowed to cook and provide for Jacob all the more because of it.
He made his way to the kitchen and leaned against the island as Jacob acknowledged him with a small, soft smile before he glanced down at his plate.
"I don't think I'm ever going to get used to wanting to ask you if you'd like some food," Jacob greeted him with his nose scrunched up.
Carlisle laughed, "I can definitely understand the social faux-pas feeling of not asking, so if it makes you feel better I could eat something alongside you?"
Jacob looked puzzled, "Wait, you can eat food? Like human food?"
"In a way, yes. It doesn't provide any necessary nutrition, nor hold our thirst at bay, but we can go through the motions of eating it. It's necessary to maintain the charade of normalcy at times," he worded carefully.
"So, if we were to hang out in public and I offered you something to eat, you'd eat it?" he asked, incredulously, his eyebrow arched high.
"Sure, it would be the polite thing to do," Carlisle answered earnestly.
"Would you eat something if I asked you now?"
There was something so innocent about the way he asked that made Carlisle smile widely, "Of course."
Jacob narrowed his eyes in suspicion as he chewed around a bite of food. He continued to eat until he had just a bite of food left, then—predictably— pierced the piece of his chicken with his fork before offering it to Carlisle with a curious glint in his eyes. Without thinking of anything except Jacob's amusement, Carlisle leaned forward and carefully bit around the fork, taking the piece of meat off the proffered utensil and chewed carefully before swallowing.
Much like every time he'd ever tried human food in the last three centuries, it tasted like gruel or paste, in this case with a stringy texture.
But Jacob's brilliantly amused expression as he threw his head back and laughed was worth it.
"Wait," He said between laughs, "I have a dumb question, and you can't laugh!"
With a flash of his teeth he replied teasingly, "I will take that into consideration, but I'll make no promises in that regard!" Not that Carlisle would ever laugh at Jacob outside of teasing moments like this, but surely Jacob knew that too.
"Aw, boo!" He crossed his arms but rolled his eyes, "Well, in that case, don't say I didn't warn you." Jacob tapered off before meeting his gaze again. "So. You ate food." His tone was too excited to be nonchalant, though it seemed that was his intention.
He chuckled and nodded, playing along.
"So, what happens now? And actually, since I'm already making a fool out of myself by asking, what happens after you drink blood too?" He asked, cheeks bright with blush.
Carlisle amusedly tilted his head, "What do you mean 'what happens now'?"
Jacob's blush only deepened. "Oh, c'mon Doc! Don't make me say it! Actually, you know what? Never mind, I don't want to know anymore." He buried his face in his hands.
"None of that, Jacob. You're curious about something, so don't let something as silly as embarrassment get the best of you. I have to admit, I'm extremely curious about your question now too, so please, let's have it." He looked back at Jacob expectantly.
He response was a sound somewhere between a groan and a laugh, "You're going to laugh, because it's a dumb question—so don't say I didn't warn you. Twice now, actually." Jacob dramatically raised his head and groaned again when he caught Carlisle's expression. "Ugh, fine," he dragged out the vowels, "I was wondering what happens with the food, and the blood, you know, like now that you ate it? Because," he screwed his eyes close tight, "I've never seen you or your family actually go to the bathroom or anything." He winced at his own question.
"Oh, that's not dumb at all. It's a perfectly logical thing to wonder about. The food, unfortunately, will have to be regurgitated at some point, since vampire's digestive system doesn't function like a human's. When we drink blood, it is directly absorbed into our veins and arteries to provide the necessary nutrients for us to function, which is facilitated by our venom. It's actually quite fascinating, because our bodies completely adapted to make blood a perfect food supply because it's completely used up by our bodies so there's no waste," Carlisle explained easily.
Jacob straightened up slightly, curiosity filling his gaze again, embarrassment forgotten, "That's so freaky…but also kind of cool. So, wait, you have to throw-up the food you ate? Because you can't digest it… you know, if you'd have told me that I wouldn't have egged you on! Sorry. Actually, no, I didn't know that you'd have to barf, so I have nothing to be sorry about."
Carlisle's shoulders shook as he laughed, "You most definitely have nothing to apologize for. What ever curiosities you might have, I'm always happy to oblige if it's within the realm of my knowledge."
"Thanks," he said, already taking another bite of food. "Oh!" he said and chewed furiously. Once he'd finished and cleared his throat he looked at Carlisle with bright interest, "Do you have fangs? If you don't that's super lame, by the way. I don't think we'd be able to keep calling you a vamp, Doc."
Carlisle briefly wondered if Bella was just as bold as her best friend, and if that's why Edward felt like he might have a heart attack when she asked him questions. But his beloved was not as easily broken, and neither was Carlisle tempted by Jacob's blood. So, perhaps he could entertain Jacob's curiosity without harm. In a single, fluid motion he crossed the space between them and found himself leaning next to Jacob with a soft grin, making sure his teeth were visible. "Do you really want to know?" His tone was playful, borderline flirtatious, but who could blame him?
Jacob appeared dazzled for a moment, looking between Carlisle's eyes and his lips. His Adam's apple bobbed as he swallowed, and his pupils contracted and expanded as he blinked rapidly. "Wouldn't have asked otherwise," he challenged, his voice thick, as he licked his lips.
This boy would be his undoing. Carlisle was supposed to be the more mature one between them, wasn't he? He'd come to discuss serious matters, not flirt and tease the young man! But still, he found himself letting his fangs unsheathe and elongate. It felt… incredibly personal. There were only two reasons for fangs to be readily on display, and that was feeding, or for defense against an attacker. He tilted his head back slightly, to allow Jacob to inspect as he desired and became as still as a statue. Carlisle felt Jacob's soft exhale fan across his neck as he approached. They were so close that if Carlisle tilted his head down just a hair, their lips might meet.
He peaked down and almost melted. Jacob's pupil were blown, his sun-warmed-earth irises eclipsed by desire; he held completely still as he felt Jacob's rough fingers begin to glide along the expanse of his neck. His touch was fire—not the punishing hellfire that scorched and consumed, but something akin to Heaven's Light. Something holy. It didn’t destroy—it revealed. It illuminated. It sanctified.
Carlisle almost melted beneath it, reverent.
Was this what Moses felt when he reached toward the burning bush? Not pain, but awe. Not fear, but clarity. Jacob’s fingers traced the line of his throat like a prayer, and Carlisle swore he could feel something ancient stirring in his chest—something that hadn’t been moved in centuries. His skin, marble-cool and unyielding, should not have responded. But it did. It sang beneath Jacob’s hand, like stone warmed by sunlight.
Carlisle didn’t breathe.
Couldn’t.
Jacob’s fingers glided along his neck with a reverence that felt ancient, like he was tracing scripture into skin. The absolute heat of his touch was almost unbearable in its purity—like sunlight filtered through stained glass, like the hush of a cathedral before prayer. It was not temptation. It was sanctification.
Carlisle’s composure, centuries-old and carefully cultivated, trembled beneath the gentle touch of this magnificent creature.
He tilted his head just slightly, enough to feel the whisper of Jacob’s breath against his lips. Their mouths didn’t touch, but the space between them pulsed with possibility. Jacob’s hand lingered at his throat, thumb brushing the edge of his jaw, and Carlisle felt something inside him fracture as Jacob grazed his thumb against his lower lip and pulled it down.
Jacob’s pulled back just enough to flick his gaze to his lips. To his fangs.
Carlisle was acutely aware of the danger this moment held, but all he felt was Jacob’s trust. The young man ghosted his thumb over the razor-sharp canines without hesitation, dauntless in a way that made Carlisle ache. That he didn’t fear placing his hand inside a beast’s mouth—despite having been so savagely burned by vampire venom not long ago—was staggering.
Carlisle couldn’t help it.
He wanted to lose himself in Jacob.
Almost without permission, his tongue flicked the pad of Jacob’s thumb—just to know what his skin tasted like. He thought it might taste like Heaven. Jacob's gaze tore back to meet his own burning gaze.
And that was all it took.
Jacob’s hand slid from the column of Carlisle’s throat to the nape of his neck, fingers curling with intent. He pulled him forward, and Carlisle melted into the motion as their lips met—no hesitation, no second-guessing.
This kiss was nothing like the chaste, flitting touches they’d grown used to. It was hot. Ardent. All-consuming.
Carlisle’s hands moved instinctively, one gripping Jacob’s hip, the other splaying across his waist, anchoring them together like he was afraid the moment might vanish if he didn’t hold on tight enough. Jacob pressed closer, mouth parting with a soft, desperate sound that made Carlisle’s composure fracture.
Their bodies aligned like magnets—heat and cool, pulse and stillness—and the kiss deepened. It wasn’t careful. It wasn’t slow. It was a collision of want and withheld need, a breathless exchange that tasted like longing and felt like gravity.
Carlisle’s fingers dug in slightly, grounding himself in the curve of Jacob’s body, and for a moment—just a moment—he let go of centuries of restraint.
Jacob’s hand tightened at the nape of Carlisle’s neck, pulling him in with a quiet urgency that shattered the last thread of restraint. Their mouths met again—no longer tentative, no longer careful. It was a kiss born of hunger, of weeks spent holding back, of nights spent curled together in silence while their bodies begged for more.
Carlisle groaned softly into the kiss, the sound low and involuntary, as Jacob’s hands slid beneath his coat and over the fine fabric of his shirt, fingers splaying across his chest like he was trying to memorize the shape of him. Carlisle’s own hands gripped tighter—one anchoring Jacob’s hip, the other sliding up his back, pressing them flush.
Jacob moaned into his mouth, the sound vibrating between them, and Carlisle felt it like a tremor in his spine. Their tongues met, tentative at first, then deeper, more daring. Jacob tasted like warmth and salt and something Carlisle couldn’t name—something that made him feel alive in a way he hadn’t in centuries.
Without thinking, without planning, Carlisle flipped them; he pushed Jacob gently but firmly back against the counter, the edge of the counter bit into Jacob’s thighs, anchoring him in place as their bodies collided with breathless urgency. Jacob gasped into the kiss, hands fisting in Carlisle’s shirt, pulling him closer, deeper.
Carlisle’s hand slid up Jacob’s side, fingers brushing the hem of his shirt, and Jacob arched into him with a sound that was half moan, half plea.
It was reckless.
It was holy.
It was too much.
Carlisle pulled back with a gasp, his chest rising and falling as if he need air to breathe—but he didn't. His lips were parted, eyes wide, stunned by the depth of his own reaction. How unequivocally human he felt with Jacob by his side!
"I'm sorry," he said as he controlled his breathing, "I hadn't meant to—"
Jacob huffed out a quiet laugh, still panting, "Yeah, no, it's ok. I didn't mean to either, I just—" He cut himself off, his beautiful copper skin aglow with a heavy blush and perspiration. His gaze told Carlisle that Jacob understood exactly what he'd meant. As comfortable as they were becoming with one another, they'd agreed that now wasn't the best time to make steadfast decisions, that there were things that need to be discussed and smoothed over with Billy before he and Jacob could sit and have a conversation about… well, them in a more serious context.
To reassure Jacob that everything was okay, he bent his head down to press their foreheads together, smiling. Jacob met his gaze, looking up at him through his lashes before he closed his eyes and smiled in return.
"We should talk, Jacob," he said as he memorized every single angle and curve of his face.
He groaned and let his head fall back until laid against the counter, scrunching up his face, "I'm not going to like this, am I?"
Carlisle smiled, bemused, and kissed his forehead before pulling away from the warmth of his embrace. "Let's take this upstairs, we'll be more comfortable there." He gathered the dished and deposited them in the sink, walking to the stairs.
A surprised laughed bubbled from behind him, so he turned and looked over at Jacob who was covering his face as he laughed, his head tilted back.
"Why was that so amusing?" he asked with a smile, unable to keep it from appearing when he saw Jacob laughing so freely.
"Oh, c'mon, Doc! I know you're ancient but even you can't tell me that you didn't hear how hilarious your statement was considering the position we were just in," he howled with laughter again.
Carlisle was sure that if it were possible, he'd be blushing. He had, in fact, not considered the position they'd been in when saying that. But he pushed through the lustful haze that had taken over his thoughts and saw the comment for what it was—a reason to avoid the conversation that needed to happen. "I assure you, that was not my intent. But regardless of how amusing my comment was, it won't detract from the fact that this conversation needs to happen."
Jacob sighed, and stood up, "Alright, Doc, lead the way."
Once upstairs, the mood shifted, the desire-filled and playful edges bled and shifted into a more serious tone, like a wave cresting unto sand. At first glance, Jacob looked calm, but Carlisle knew better. He could almost feel the weight of the imminent conversation filling the room, landing on top of Jacob’s shoulders. He sat in his usual seat by the window, legs stretched out, shoulders almost folding into his frame as he crossed his arms in front of him. The quiet was a shield for Jacob as much as his jokes could be.
Carlisle took a seat next to him, their shoulders brushing with what he hoped was a small gesture of comfort. “I know you’ve been avoiding this conversation, but we need to discuss what happens next. You are still a minor in the eyes of the state and Sam has already warned us that Billy isn’t simply content to know that you’re better. He wants you to return.” He hesitated and shook his head, “He’s threatening to involve Charlie if necessary. The pack can only do so much to keep him at bay. And it has nearly been a month since… everything happened. But it’s clear he’s desperate to get you back. So, what would you like to do?”
Jacob scowled as he thought and weighed and measured the consequences of different actions. “I think the letter is a good way to start, to see how he reacts. But I’m not going back if he can’t at least apologize for what he said or how he treated me. But I also don’t want to cause any trouble by staying…” he scoffed, “It’s like there’s no right choice to make here.”
Carlisle nodded, empathetically, “I definitely understand why it seems that way. But maybe sending the letter is just the first step. Then we decide what to do based on his reaction.”
The scowl fell from Jacob’s face and was replaced by a small smile. “I like when you say ‘we’,” he commented softly before he continued, almost like he was unwilling to wait for any commentary on his statement. “But yeah, I guess we can do that. How will we get the letter to him? Snail mail? Paper airplane?”
He chuckled, “I was thinking more along the lines of Sam helping us out with that.”
“Wolf mail express,” Jacob grinned, “I like it.”
He shook his head with a grin, "Yes, and 'wolf mail', as you say, has the added benefit of you getting to see your friends soon too. I'm sure it can't have been easy not seeing them these last couple of weeks, but Sam thought it best to not rile up any drama and keeping everyone in place until things are more… stable, I suppose, on the reservation."
“Yeah, that sounds like him,” he answered with a fond smile before it faded. “It’s silly, but as much as I’ve missed them, I’ve also been kind of scared of seeing them again. Maybe afraid isn’t the right word. Ashamed, maybe?”
“Ashamed of what?” he asked with a slight cock of his head. It would make sense if there was some shame or discomfort regarding their… situation. But the idea that they were something to be ashamed of still stung, logical as it was.
Jacob groaned and reclined his head against the windowpane. “I didn’t really tell you everything in detail about what happened before I came here.” He sighed and closed his eyes. “Billy and I didn’t just get into an argument, I mean it started that way, but he just kept pushing and then he threatened you and I… snapped. I didn’t consciously shift, it just happened. And it was like I wasn’t all there. I just knew that he’d threatened you and that I couldn’t let that stand—but then I saw the fear in his eyes, and I realized that I wasn’t in control. So, I ran. I could feel the desperation and fear they felt when I shifted—the pack I mean. They thought I was really going to hurt Billy… and they were right to. If Billy had been closer or I wasn’t as hurt or I wasn’t able to snap out of it, I don’t know what would have happened. I felt pathetically out of control and too ashamed to face them. And I guess I still do.”
He blinked once, feeling shameful that he’d assumed he knew where Jacob’s shame stemmed from. Hadn’t assumptions gotten them in this situation? As much as Carlisle prided himself on communication, it seemed he had more to learn and put into practice. Without another thought, he stood up and gathered Jacob into his arms, enveloping him into an embrace.
“I know a little bit about that loss on control when it comes to protecting you, Jacob, so please accept when I tell you that the important thing is that nothing happened. Everything else is up to you to process, but Billy is fine and you didn’t hurt him. So, please give yourself the same grace that you afforded me, okay?” He pulled back slightly to search Jacob’s face for understanding.
He was met with rich, soulful eyes that held the warmth of the sun. There was doubt, and perhaps reluctance in those eyes, but also hope and acceptance as Jacob nodded back. Carlisle pressed a kiss to the top of his head before sitting back in the chair, missing the contact immediately, but he held himself back so they could finish their conversation.
“Thank you,” Jacob whispered with small tug of the corners of his lips.
“Anytime. We’ll arrange for the pack to come over soon, then. Or you could go out with them, whatever works out better for you all. And… if things go well, then we’ll talk about what that means when we get there, okay?”
“Yeah, sounds good to me. I wish Emmett and the rest of them were back, honestly. Then we could all hang out and maybe not have a rogue band of vampires ruin our fun,” he joked.
Carlisle opened his mouth to speak but Jacob interrupted, “That does not mean that you should tell everyone to end their vacations early and come bum it with us.”
He laughed, “Well, I wasn’t going to order them around as such, but I will be letting them know that the pack will be coming over anyhow. It is their home too, after all.”
“Sure, sure. Like you wouldn’t suggest that they return for my benefit. I’m starting to know your tells, Doc,” he grinned back.
“Oh, it’s Doc again, is it?” he raised a brow with a smirk.
“It’s always Doc, Doc. Although, if you don’t like it, I suppose I can come up with another nickname…”
The mischief his eyes promised was enough to shake a laugh out of him again.
“No, I like it.”
“Good.”
He sighed, “Now, I suppose all that’s left is for me to find a suitable nickname for you.” Carlisle broke into a wide smile.
Jacob blinked twice before smiling, “Hit me with, ‘em, Doc.”