By the time Jacob got home from his trip to the movies with Bella and Mike Newton, he knew something was terribly wrong.
It had nothing to do with the outing. That, truth be told, had gone just as he’d expected. Mike and he had both sought to monopolize the outing in each other’s favor, trying- and desperately failing – to get Bella’s attention.
But then, halfway through the movie, sometime after the Newton guy ran from his chair and towards the nearest bathroom to hurl his guts out, something changed within Jacob.
It was subtle in the beginning, coming over him like an understated, barely present, yet still palpable headache. Then, a slight pain in his joints began. Walking didn’t exactly hurt, but… it felt annoying. Incorrect, somehow.
His interactions with Bella from that point on went terribly. He was coming from a place of anger, being overly effusive, and when Mike Newton finally came out of the bathroom and asked to be taken home, Jacob exploded.
He threated Mike. Quite viciously. It was completely uncharacteristic, very unlike him.
Bella seemed worried, but not angry or hurt by Jacob’s outburst. She offered to take Mike home, since Jacob had arrived in his own car. She asked Jake, a concerned look on her face, to call her as soon as he was back home.
Jacob left the theater upset, both at the turn of events and at himself. He tried to focus on the bright side of things; he’d be calling Bella soon. They’d be back in their little bubble in no time; just them and whatever they wanted to talk about, whatever they wanted to do, the way it always was and should be.
There would be no Mike Newton. No uncomfortable dark room filled with dozens of strangers who made conversing with one another next to impossible. No dull, unnecessary movie to keep track of either. Just us.
Thinking of this gave Jacob an emotional refuge from the way he was feeling inside. At least, it did at first. He tried to ignore the headache. Tried not to worry about the way the pain kept increasing, slowly but surely. He wanted to focus on the future conversation he’d have with Bella. On the better things coming up.
There was no need for him to be as upset as he was. No need for him to feel this terrible, heavy, scary rage deep within his chest. The eternal optimist that he was simply didn’t like any of these feelings. They were the antithesis of everything he stood for.
But by the time Jacob drove into the Rez, his entire body was shaking. He was sweating profusely too, feverish, no doubt. He couldn’t understand where this mysterious heat, this fever, had come from.
If he’d picked up a cold from someone at the theater, it would’ve taken the virus days, if not a solid week, for it to move from it’s hibernating state to an actual, full blown cold. And no one at school was sick, or showing symptoms of anything, so Jacob was certain that he hadn’t picked up whatever this was there.
It made no sense at all, whatever this thing that had come over him was. Jacob stumbled into his house barely able to contain the shivering. He tried to keep a straight face as he closed the door behind him and walked on, into the tiny space he considered, still to this day, his safe place. He didn’t want to worry Billy. There was no need for his dad to be concerned about him. Not this late anyways.
But his father was always alert. As Jacob dashed his way through the kitchen, down the hall and then into his room, Billy wheeled his way after him, asking, in a concerned voice, if he was alright.
“Yes, I’m fine, dad,” Jake lied through jittering teeth, then proceeded to lock the bedroom door behind him.
“You sure didn’t seem OK as you came in, son,” Billy argued gently. “Did something happen at the movies?” Silence. Then, in a softer tone, “Would you like to talk about it?”
No, dad. You don’t need to hear about how I made a huge ass of myself in front of Bella Swan, Jacob thought to himself. He told Billy the same thing again. That he was fine, that he didn’t need anything, but that he was grateful for his concern.
He heard the familiar sound of Billy’s wheelchair heading back to the living room. After a few minutes passed, and Jacob was sure Billy wouldn’t come around again, he turned on the fan he kept near his bed, cranked it up to HIGH and stripped down.
He almost kept his boxers on. But they felt too tight, too hot and restrictive on him. Unbearable. He took them off too in one swift motion, tossing them across the room and into his half-filled hamper.
Then, in true Jacob fashion, he got into bed and tried to fall asleep.
But the world wouldn’t fade away. His entire body, down to a seemingly growing fire at the pit of his belly, wouldn’t let Jake slip into unconsciousness. Instead, he pulsated uncontrollably, his skin feeling hot and alive all over.
It took him a few minutes to realize that he was also terribly horny. His cock, pressed against the mattress, ached for friction. He could picture how easy it would be to do what his body wanted; how easily it would be to grind against his mattress, giving himself the release, the action, that he was craving.
Yes, that was it, what the fire at the pit of his belly was. A raw, burning desire to get off. The thought alone, of what he could do, of what it would be like to come like this, completely naked and sweaty, made Jacob hard in no time.
What is this? Why am I both feverish, almost completely out of myself, but so trapped in my own skin as well?
He decided, after some deliberating, that it didn’t matter. This was his room, after all. He could get off if he wanted to.
Sure, Billy was in the house. But he was in the living room, which was, to Jacob, worlds away. Even from behind his closed door, Jake could hear some game blasting loudly from the new TV they’d recently gotten down at Port Angeles.
Billy wouldn’t hear anything, he thought with finality.
He shifted, settling on his back, letting the fan’s cold air soothe his burning skin. Then, when the heat became too much once again, once the fan’s draft did next to nothing for him, Jacob’s hands began to wander.
He teased his nipples first. Delighted in pinching them both, first drily, then with eager, saliva-coated fingers. Softly as he began, then rougher, applying more and more pressure. His cock got even harder, precum dripping from the head in tiny, crystalline beads.
The headache seemed to be vanishing at Jacob’s ministrations. It was lessening somehow. Jacob took this as a good sign and continued, running his hands all over his sweaty body, feeling his stomach, and then, as he let his hands go lower, his crotch.
Jake grabbed his hard prick tenderly, as if it were something fragile. This felt too good, perfectly intense. He didn’t want to come too fast, though. He stroked the sensitive organ with precision, enjoying each stroke. He played with his cockhead, smearing it with the precum that kept leaking and flowed like ambrosia.
On impulse, Jacob turned face down, getting on his knees and knuckles on the mattress, ass up in the air. He brought a hand towards his butt cheeks, caressed them, explored.
There was light hair there, downy and fine. Feeling it brought the right kind of shivers down his spine. It was erotic, really. He spread his cheeks curiously, wondering what it would feel like to be touched this way, to be touched, caressed and sucked in these most tender places.
At once, not allowing himself to be deterred by any self-consciousness, he began to run his fingertips over the virgin hole, moaning at the sensation. It was hot, his asshole. It throbbed against his fingertips, and Jacob discovered he liked this feeling. A lot.
He wanted more. He needed more. He thought of getting up and finding the small bottle of lube he kept amongst his things.
But before he could move from where he was, his bedroom door burst open.
There was no time to react or cover himself. Jacob was startled, yes, but not enough for it to bring reason into him. He was too feverish again; lost in a daze he couldn’t seem to break out of. His body wanted more of these touches, more of this self-exploration. All he knew was that it had kept the painful fog at bay and now, swiftly, at his lack of action, the fog was returning and cloaking his mind.
Turning his head and forcing himself to face reality, Jacob discovered that there were two people standing in the doorway to his room. One was exactly who he’d expected; his father.
Billy didn’t seem mortified or disgusted in the slightest by what he was seeing, which shocked Jacob more than the interruption had. There was only concern on Billy’s face.
The person standing next to him, however, was a total shocker.
It was Sam. Sam Uley. Sam Uley with the long face, the sad eyes, cropped black hair and rippling muscles.
Jacob and Sam had crossed paths before. They weren’t friends, but they also weren’t enemies. Jacob knew that plenty of the kids on the Rez resented that the elders treated Sam with obvious, explicit respect. He was, to them, a hall monitor on steroid.
But to Jacob, it had never seemed that way. No, to him, Sam had always come across as someone terribly uncomfortable with the position he’d been given. And Jacob could, on some level, understand that. No young person should have to carry the level of responsibility Jacob saw Sam take on. No one should look as sad as Sam did.
Yet, none of this explained why Sam was here. Why he stood in Jacob’s doorway, staring at his naked body with what seemed to be…desire, hunger, yearning… in his big, black eyes.
As if he’d read Jacob’s mind, Sam asked, in a soothing tone, “Do you know why I’m here, Jacob?”
Fighting the shock, Jacob shook his head. “No.”
“Do you understand what’s happening to you?”
“No. Not really. I went to the movies tonight, and I was feeling fine. It was halfway through the movie that-”
“That you began to feel unnaturally hot,” Sam said, cutting in, but not forcefully. “You began to feel pain, bodily pain, and anger. Lots and lots of anger.” He walked towards Jacob’s bed, sat at the very edge, and with an understanding look on his face, he asked, “Am I right?”
“Yes,” Jacob breathed. He didn’t move. Truthfully, he couldn’t move. Sam’s eyes held him in place. The intensity of his stare kept Jake unmoving, and somehow, completely unashamed of his nakedness. “What’s happening to me?” He asked, his voice but a whisper again.
Sam glanced at Billy, who nodded quickly. Jacob wondered what that was about.
“You know the stories of the tribe, Jacob. That we’re brothers, above all. Kin in ways outsiders don’t fully grasp or understand. Some of those stories explain what you’re going through. Can you go back in your mind for me? Think back to when you were first told about our heritage. The real heritage.”
At first, Jacob didn’t really get what Sam was saying. He remembered what he’d been taught about their Quileute ancestors, of course. They were told the stories as children, and then again as teenagers, so they wouldn’t lose their connection to those who came before. So that teenage rebellion wouldn’t mar their collective truth, were it to happen.
But Sam’s words carried a deeper meaning. Something about the way he’d said the real heritage took Jacob back, made him flashback to things he hadn’t thought of in, frankly, a very long time.
The Quileute’s are descendants from wolves, you see. We’ve always been shifters, in some way or another. And those who shift experience frightening symptoms at first: fevers, dizzy spells, violent outbursts. Even heightened sexual feelings, due to the way shifter pheromones contrast with our human constitution. The beast, once it emerges, seeks to be fulfilled. And it can only be calmed down by providing it the fulfillment it seeks.
As a newfound awareness flooded into him, Jacob’s entire mindset changed. He finally understood what was happening; accepted that this entire experience was not the product of him coming down with a cold.
No, this was no cold, no flu, nothing of the sort. It was something else entirely; something ancient. Something that would change his life forever.
He looked at Sam.
“You’re here to help me,” Jacob guessed.
Sam nodded. “Your father called me the moment you locked yourself in your room. He smelled the pheromones and knew what was happening. I’m here to help if you’ll let me.”
Besides Sam, seated firmly in his wheelchair, Billy Black nodded.
If you’ll let me. The words made Jacob’s heartbeat pick up. They also made his cock, which had softened, harden again.
The erotic feelings surfaced once more in full force, making Jacob’s skin feel hot in a delicious way, the sweat covering his entire body feel like a stimulant instead of something he needed to wash off.
“Please help me,” Jacob said, his voice coming out husky, raw, and full of need. He brought his chest down again, against the mattress, and brought his ass up in the air.
For Sam to see. For Sam to claim, for that was precisely what would happen. Jacob Black would be claimed tonight. As a shifter. As a member of the tribe.
Sam, with hungry eyes and surprising speed, began to dispose of his clothes. Shirt, pants, socks and shoes came off in a blur, and within seconds, Jacob’s was no longer the only naked body in the room.
Scent of arousal, Jacob thought oddly, and then, yes, he saw it. Understood what his shifting biology was picking up on in an animalistic way. Sam’s hard prick, as lengthy as Jake’s, throbbing in the air, erected proudly amidst the neatly trimmed nest of pubic hair.
Sam moved into the bed, and in one quick motion, positioned himself before Jacob’s butt cheeks, which he parted gently, both hands cupping and squeezing the fleshy globes.
Jacob felt Sam breathe against his hole. Felt Sam’s nose come near, smelling him, taking in the scent from this most private of places. Ah, this was heaven, this was all, his entire body seemed to be screaming. Jacob’s cock throbbed against his thigh; he felt precum dripping down his leg.
Sam’s tongue, first tentatively, then more vigorously, began to circle and tease Jacob’s hole. Moans escaped from Jacob’s mouth obscenely, and he didn’t bother to hold them back. As the circling became probing, and Sam’s tongue penetrated the ring of muscles, Jacob found himself rocking back against Sam’s face. Wanting to take him in deeper. Riding Sam’s tongue.
A hand, steady and firm, gripped Jacob’s cock and began to jerk it for him, bringing him out of his reverie.
And there it was, undeniable. The face of his father, Billy Black, full of nothing but love and compassion, inches away from his only son’s, one of his hands jerking off Jacob’s cock, the other his own, shaking at the same speed on his lap.
For reasons unknown to Jacob, he felt no fear, only desire, ever-present and increasing, at the realization of what was happening. Behind him was Sam Uley, eating him out, licking and sucking away at his heart’s content. And beneath him, between his quivering legs? His own father’s hand, bringing him closer and closer to the edge.
I could come like this, Jacob realized. But he didn’t want to yet-no, this moment, although delicious, didn’t feel worthy of climax. No, his body ached for more, for a more profound kind of completion. His mind filled to the brim with the nearly endless number of scenarios that could unfold.
The tongue inside him ceased its attack. Sam’s mouth retreated. “Yes?”
“I want more,” Jacob said, his voice almost a growl. He kept thrusting into his father’s hand, unable to stop, rocking into the foreign fist with glee. But his eyes remained on Sam, fighting through the erotic fog that plagued his mind. “I want you inside me.”
Sam nodded, and the pressure on Jacob’s butt cheeks- Sam’s firm, sturdy hands-moved to his hips, where an iron grip settled. He realized it would be impossible to move like this, with Sam exerting total control over his body.
He liked it. Positively adored the implications. Domination.
Jacob felt Sam’s weight shift in the bed as the young man moved to his knees. Jacob glanced at his father, who continued to jerk his cock, and offered him a tentative smile.
Billy smiled back. Then, coming closer, he pressed a kiss onto Jacob’s mouth. It was soft, tender. Jacob titled his head slightly, parting his lips. At once his father’s tongue began an assault on his mouth, virtually fucking it with his tongue as his strokes, both the one’s on Jacob’s cock and his own, became quicker.
Then, pain, for a solid instant. Sam inside him, Sam claiming him, sliding inside carefully. Before the pain could settle, however, before it could taint everything else that was happening, Sam began to move, and Jacob’s entire body came alive in ways it hadn’t before.
Sam was hitting a specific spot within him, a spot Jacob had heard about, but that he hadn’t dared seek on his own. Now, he knew pleasure, absolute pleasure. It came in waves, a mixture of Sam fucking him, his thick cock hitting Jacob’s prostate, and Billy’s pleasuring.
Jacob had surrendered to the pleasure. He could feel nothing but it mounting, nothing but the fog in him lifting higher and higher. Still, it was there, vaguely present. He wanted it gone.
As if he’d read Jacob’s mind, Billy’s voice rang out, saying, “We have to make him come, Sam. It’s the only way the fever will break. He needs to come and to be…”
“I know,” was Sam’s reply, his voice breathy, thick was passion. “Help me.”
Before Jacob could ask what this exchange had been about, Sam’s thrusts became quicker, and a warm, wet fold slipped around his cock, replacing Billy’s hand. All it took was one glance for Jacob to see what had happened; his father, the proud, strong Billy Black, had taken him in his mouth, and was doing his best to take him as deep as he could.
It was endless, the pleasure, this bliss. Sam’s cock, driving in and out of him, was heaven, and Billy’s throat around his cock, was simply otherworldly. It was the mixed combination, lethal, utterly exquisite, that sent Jacob over the edge.
It seemed that he came and came and came, emptying in his father’s mouth, shooting volley after volley of semen past the elder’s expecting lips. Sam’s own orgasm followed, the clenching of Jacob’s hole around his prick too good and powerful, overstimulating him to the point of no return. He thrust through it, moaning and growling as if this release meant everything.
A haziness crept over Jacob then. He saw his father move away, wipe his mouth with the back of his hand. He saw Billy offer him a smile, full of kindness and love. He felt Sam collapse beside him on the bed, his breathing deep and labored.
He took all that was happening around him, all that had happened around him, in. Internalized it, if that was possible after his senses had been overwhelmed with such a force.
Then, Jacob Black, finally a part of the pack, finally claimed and free of the dazzling, transformative fever, fell onto the bed himself and felt sleepiness sweep over him.
The last thing he heard was Sam’s voice, still husky, saying, “Welcome to the pack, Jacob.”