MJinAspen participates in "Salacious Behavior & Earnest Speaking"

MJinAspen

Salacious Behavior & Earnest Speaking


16


ThisColony

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Salacious Behavior and Earnest Speaking is one of the first fics I ever read from this fandom. It is also one of the most striking, leaving an impression in my mind so deep that I cannot (and would not) deny ThisColony credit as an inspiration to my own writing.

She is romantic and angsty and emotional, and the words she uses (and the manner in which she uses them) are brilliant and beautiful, setting the tone and atmosphere cozily inside your head. ThisColony takes my breath away with intimate and delicious phrases that describe simple everyday things that everyday people do and feel.

Her Edward could certainly be labeled as emo – he’s somewhat canon in that respect – but he’s also very real and honest. He’s tired of being alone, but he doesn’t want to settle.


I think of things like how much I like cinnamon, how perfect the air smells tonight because it is full of rain, how much I don't want to be disappointed, how easy it is to be disappointed, how I am really ridiculous and want to speak like this to someone so much that it hurts.

Sigh.

That isn’t citrusy in the least (and it’s from chapter four), but it’s elegant and telling of the prose in this piece. Also, it knocked me on my ass the first time I read it, forever lingering in my mind.

Now that you’re primed a little bit, let’s wade into the (BPOV) lemonade:


I feel so aware of him, so overcome by a need to please, to consume, that I feel suddenly possessed. Something is awake in my chest, and this heart that has beat like a metronome, a steady, boring pump, is now pushing on the outer walls, is screaming to jump from me like a sad suicide from a bridge.

"This, this is, I don't know what this is, what's happening," I move my lips against him, rushing the words out between us.

"This is fucking wonderful, that's what this is."

Yes, Edward, it is fucking wonderful. YOU are wonderful. And you make Bella say and do and think wonderful things.

I can’t say enough about these two drawing me in. I care about them as individuals, sure, but mostly I just want them to be together. I want them to have more moments like this. I don’t care if they get married and have a million babies. I just want this for them:


I want to fall against him like wax, dripping and unconscious. I can feel him against my back, and though I've always been somewhat sensual, drawn to intensity and sex, the spark this sets through my body is a sensation I've never met before.

I need him to love me.

I need to feel him pressed so close to me, into me, with me, that I can't remember where I end and he begins.

I assault him. I pull the shirt over his head quickly, I help him with my own, I slap my chest against his, as his long fingers yank my jeans by the belt loops. We are moving so quickly, with such desperation, that I lose my breath when he suddenly shoves me by the shoulders, pushing me away from him. I stand, staring wildly in the middle of my bedroom.

"Let me see you," he says hoarsely.

Bella’s passion for him is apparent. She wears her need on her sleeve. Edward is strong without being too aggressive or cocky, and he’s very, very present. He wants her desperately, mirroring her need. They are so bare with each other as they build a relationship on shaky ground, insecurities at the front.


Protection, responsibility, being an adult, having sex with someone new.

I move from beneath him and reach toward my nightstand. I lean up, pulling the top drawer open as Edward stares at its contents, the moonlight brightening the room enough. He suddenly reaches over me, slamming the drawer shut. He shakes his head, his mouth open, and frustration plainly written on his face. I realize the error in my casual mission to solve our problem. That box of condoms indicates exactly what and who we don't want to be thinking about. Its mere presence, while not unusual in any other circumstances, has become taunting in ours.

"I'm being a fucking idiot, I'm sorry, that was a knee-jerk reaction. I'm so sorry, it just…it…" he stutters, but I'll be damned if I let this continue, if I let it interrupt anymore than it already has. I take his face in my hands, I press my lips to his.

I whisper against his ear, "Stop, shhh, stop. There are other measures, I'm on the pill. I just… I trust you, trust me, I need this."

He seems even more determined, his mouth trailing down my stomach, my body trembling the entire way. I'm nervous, elated, so fucking ready and willing.

"I feel like you're mine," he says, as his mouth closes around my nipple, his tongue and teeth appraising my breast. "Just you and me, I can't consider anything else."

Bella has had a relationship with Jasper and Edward knows it. While she and Jasper are officially no longer a couple and have plenty of battle scars to show for the break-up, he continues to support her financially (i.e. he pays her living expenses.) We’ve all been there. Heh. So now, here Bella and Edward are trying to have their romantic first time and push past the looming reality that Jasper still has a tiny hold over her.

And believe me, they do push past it.


I lift myself onto my elbows, and he grabs me by my waist, pulling me up to straddle him as he slides back. His fingers press into my sides with a fever. I come down on him swiftly, a small yelp, a resounding moan, escaping my throat. He grunts and sucks all the air from the room into his lungs, so I pant, because I'm out of oxygen. He is the most glorious thing to look at in this position.

He grabs my ass and moves me up and down, circular, hard, lifting into me at the same time with such beautiful noises emanating from his throat. I'm enraptured by this, the idea that he is gaining pleasure from me, from my body, that I finally understand what it is to be a temple. I am a place of worship, here with him. I am awed by his body, his presence, his motions, his quick and astoundingly effective touch. The way he pulls me closer to him, looking at me as though I am suddenly the savior, the goal, the thing of beauty I have never felt I was before.

She could just say “he made me feel like a goddess” but… “I finally understand what it is to be a temple.”

::shakes head in awe::

That’s better than a goddess. That’s the whole damn temple, enduring and magnificent. Brick and mortar strength.

Of course they come together. And of course ThisColony appreciates that blessed moment with more than simple, boring phrasing.


I plead, "Stay inside me."

We groan and spill, the feeling torrential and complete, because I know my body and it has never been difficult for me. Though tonight I cannot say I was specifically concentrated at all, but rather melting and dissipating about the room, the air, and the night. I've evaporated, become limp, as we tangle into each other, trying to catch our breath, hands stroking one another affectionately. I kiss him everywhere my mouth can find from this position, because moving too much is difficult for now.

He stays inside me, he pushes fruitlessly, slowly, for tiny bursts of sensation while our bodies are still alive and tingling, though exhausted and near motionless.

The next morning when they wake up, spooning, Bella feels self conscious about some of the things she’s said. She’s never been in love before and she doesn’t know how to be emotionally vulnerable. But when Edward shows his own vulnerability, she continues to talk, telling him more about her feelings, moving delicately into the soft morning. Well, almost delicately.


"I fucking hate when you mention him, I swear to God, it's like my bloodstream is set on fire."

I didn't mention him, merely implied in a roundabout way, but I guess it's all the same. His tone isn't angry, but sad, frustrated, exhausted. We're getting to the real point of it, all the while his hands are roaming across my body and every physical part of me is responding. My coherency is slipping, but somehow I want to push this further. I feel like the bar is being raised. I feel like we're putting insecurities aside, damning them to hell, throwing it all into one another's merciless hands.

Confiding.

New.

Significant.

"I'm sorry," I whisper.

He pushes a hand between my legs, my eyes are weighted down with lust, and our skin is gaining temperature.

"I do it to myself, the thoughts I have about the two of you; it's torture. I'm so vulgar sometimes, Bella."

"I'm probably worse," I place my hand on top of his, guiding his fingers into me. I try to hush my moan by turning into the pillow.

"I want to know everything at the same time that I don't. I want to ask you how he fucks you, where he's fucked you, if you enjoy it, if you come, if you like the way he tastes. It's so fucking masochistic, I don't know why this is, why I want to know."

"You don't really want to know that," I say, my breath hitching as he pinches hard between my thighs.

"Of course I don't, but God, I really do."

I arch into him almost frantically, rubbing, needing more friction.

"I don't want to know any of these things about you and other women. I'd rather pretend they never existed. I won't let my curiosity get the best of me, because I need to feel like you belong to me and no one else, and always have."

"I want you again," he murmurs against my neck, and clasps my hip, angles me just above him and pushes into me without another word.

These two say things that most of us only think/say in dreams. They speak truths that are most often left unsaid and that is their beauty, their truth. They say these things in earnest, in salacious moments – naked and throbbing – then don’t hold the words against one another. Honesty. What a concept.

Salacious Behavior and Earnest Speaking is incomplete. I do hope that ThisColony will revisit it someday. But if you’re looking for poetry, complete or not, give it a try. Her words alone will thrill you.

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