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The Sweet Hereafter	By : IcarusComplex Category: Twilight Series > Threesomes Plus Views: 7593 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Twilight, or any canonical characters; nor do I make any money from this writing. I just like mucking around with their heads.

Chapter List
- 1-The Sweet Hereafter
- 1
Ch 1: Twice A Year

Ardeth. The girl's name was Ardeth. And she wasn't really a girl—not a normal one, anyway. What kind of person, after being assaulted by a voyeuristic werewolf on rut, and then very nearly rutted into the ground by said werewolf, sat up, slapped their attacker across the face, then said,
"Well that’s a jerkass way to tell someone you’re hot for them. You could have tried ‘Hi, my name’s Whitefang, want to grab a bite at the café’? By the way: Ardeth."
And stuck out their hand to shake?
No, for real. And of course Jacob’s first response was not to apologise, or to run, but to say, stupidly: “Whitefang?”
It said something that what happened next actually was a date at the café—albeit, at ten o’clock at night, after a stop-off at the clinic to get her wrist strapped. And more of an exposé on werewolves, vampires and male estrus than a proper dinner-and-flirty-conversation date, at that.
With that as a precedent, when she answered her front door at two in the morning six years later to find a dripping Indian on her doorstep looking hunted, neither of them really gave a thought to the peculiarity of the situation. Ardeth looked almost a full foot up to Jacob’s face through sleep-tousled hair and stood aside without a word. He all but fell inside, slamming the door behind him.
Ardeth watched him check all the windows in the small lounge room, yanking the curtains closed as he went, and rubbed an eye with the sleeve of her flannel shirt. "What—"
"Don't ask."
“Take your jacket off at least. You’re dripping on my carpet.”
Jacob obligingly stripped off his wet clothes – leaving his shorts – and surrendered them. Ardeth carried them away into the laundry and threw hoodie and shirt into the dryer. The t-shirt was the one he slept in; had he come straight here from home? When she returned, he was wearing a path into the carpet in front of the fireplace.
Dark eyes followed his pacing with sleepy bemusement. He’d closed the curtains to block out all the streetlight—or was it to block out the street itself? The remaining bed of coals was putting out only the barest touch of heat and the faintest of red glows. Jacob didn’t seem to notice. The lounge was unlit; there was just enough light from the fireplace and a lamp in the hallway to tell his expression was an uneasy mix of someone-kicked-my-puppy and bad-touched-by-the-icecream-man. Between that, the agitation, the isolationism… This was a familiar behaviour pattern, but she hadn’t seen it for a while: he didn’t feel safe.
Now what on God’s green Earth could make a werewolf nervous…?
Ardeth rested a shoulder on the doorframe to observe him for a moment longer—just to confirm her theory. The motion pulled her oversized shirt a little higher up her bare thighs. Her brow furrowed at Jacob’s frantic, almost panicked movements. Finally, she said, "I'm asking.”
A pause in his pacing. "Ardeth..."
She cocked a hip, unimpressed at the whine. “Jake, why are you all wet? And why are you dropping by at two in the morning? Don’t get me wrong, I love that we’re still spontaneous, but what the frell?”
“I took a detour through the river,” he said distractedly. He peered into the gloom of the kitchen as if checking for lurkers. “It was the only way to douse the scent.”
“Douse the…”
“Is your mom still in Port Angeles?”
“Yes. More tests. Jake, why were you ‘dousing the scent’? Is that vampire back?”
“No, no, the pack’s safe. If she does come back, she’s not our problem. The leeches can deal with her. It’s…” The man cast another worried glance towards the front door and perched his tall frame awkwardly on the arm of the couch. "Do you know what date it is?" he asked morosely.
She frowned at the wooden floor by his (bare) feet. "Yes, but... oh, Jake." Her eyes snapped up to his face.
The Quileute nodded miserably.
"I thought you were supposed to come here for those days," she said gently.
"These days," he corrected with a hint of a whimper.
She went to him with a sigh, socks scuffing on the wooden floor. The couch was low enough that, sitting on the arm, the werewolf’s long legs splayed out in a vee. He whined as Ardeth stepped between his legs to cup his face.
"What happened this time?"
His bottom lip twisted up and long arms wrapped around her waist so he could bury his face in her neck. "Ardeth..."
Ardeth’s lips twitched up. She recognised these signs. This was classic Jake for 'I don't walk to talk about it; it's embarrassing/weird/stupid'.
"Jake."
He shook his head stubbornly and hugged her tighter. Feeling put-upon, the small woman sighed and rested one hand on a broad bare shoulder, combing the other through the short soft hair at the base of his neck. Her fingers touched something rough and crackly. Frowning, she combed through his hair again. This time she came out with a leaf.
She lifted it up to eyelevel, twirling it in her fingers. "Jake, what did they do this time?" He mumbled something into her shirt. Mouth twisted, she leant back to see his face, ignoring how the speech had puffed little breaths onto her collarbone. "Can't hear you."
"Ardeth..."
She rolled her eyes. Enough with the whining. She tapped a light finger on his shoulder. "Come on Jake. Spill. What happened?"
He shifted his grip on her waist a little, and she waited for an answer. What she didn't expect was a hot breath up her neck and a kiss to her jaw.
"You smell good," he muttered, pulling her closer.
Ardeth resisted the urge to smack him across the head. "Come on Jake, snap out of it. Stay with me here. Someone was after you, you went through the river… What happened?" Lips ghosted across her throat and one of his hands started drawing circles on her back. Ardeth sighed and shifted her weight, finger-combing messy black hair out of her face. Well, what did she expect? It was a rut.
It had surprised her, the concept that male wolves went through heat cycles too, but she figured after a while that it was kind of like breeding season: females got hot, males just got 'the urge'. Which was just great really, and she wished she'd known that before she decided to go practice her fencing out in the middle of the Olympic Forest one night six years ago. But no one had told her had they? Nooo.
It'd turned out okay in the end. If you considered a werewolf who periodically got insatiable horny as a boyfriend normal. Oh, and that wasn't the worst of it, oh no. The worst part was where the other members of his pack got interested. Really interested, if you got the picture… Which probably explained why he was here, come to think of it.
"Jake?"
"Yes?"
She fought to stay focused. Werewolf or not, that voice going all low and sexy still made her knees weak. "Did Embry and Quil try—"
He barked a laugh, keeping his face close to her neck. "Ah, no. Not this time."
She huffed in frustration. That was another thing that annoyed her about the heat: monosyllabic or incredibly short and uninformative answers.
One of his large hands had slipped down her back to slide along the backs of her thighs, calluses rasping along her skin and raising goosebumps in their wake. "I love this shirt," he muttered, mouthing the skin along her collarbone.
"Ja-Jake, please. Help me out here. What happened?"
"Say 'please' again."
"Okay, please. 'Please' tell me what happened." He didn't answer. Scowling, Ardeth grabbed a handful of hair and tugged his head back. Eyes hotter than should've been legal, he smirked up at her, thoroughly uninterested in anything she had to say.
"Jake."
He pouted and rolled his eyes but answered as commanded. "Sam."
"Sam?" Ardeth repeated incredulously. "Sam happened?"
Jake nodded and moved back to his original occupation, her grip on his hair loosened by surprise. Ardeth tried to ignore the teeth nibbling deliciously on her neck and think. The idea of the Alpha looming over Jake sent a shudder she wasn’t entirely sure was revulsion go through her, but she pushed it back, trying to breathe deeply. Sam. Okay, Sam. She could deal with that. She thought.
Jacob made a noise in his throat, somewhere between a moan and a growl, and pressed her closer. She was practically sitting on his lap now, Jake's disinterest in anything other than them very obvious.
Mind going foggy, she forcibly uncurled her fingers and pushed back on his shoulders. "Oh hell no, boy. I went there once. I have work tomorrow."
The arms locked around her waist didn't budge. "Skip it," he advised.
“I can’t. I’m on opening. I have the keys and everything—”
He latched onto her sternum. Resistance was futile. Her arms were getting weaker by the second, though she kept pushing on his shoulders.
Jake chuckled at her efforts, deep and dark, and laughed outright when she scowled at his amusement.
"Jake, seriously," she protested. She leant back. It didn't work. He was a full ten inches taller than she was; there was no way she could lean away far enough to escape. One of the big hands was around her hips like a steel band, stopping her from escaping; the other was engaged in slowly undoing the buttons of her shirt.
"I mean it: stop. I'm not encouraging this heat. You know perfectly well you can wait it out. As your girlfriend, I'm recommending what's best for you."
He laughed, sliding a finger down the exposed skin between her breasts. "Yeah, but where's the fun in that? Besides," he added, "as my 'girlfriend' shouldn't you enjoy this as much as me?"
She wriggled uncomfortably, little fizzles running up and down her spine making her nerves tingle pleasantly. "Well, yeah, but--"
"Okay then. Enjoy it." Abandoning the buttons, he slid the second hand down her legs and picked her up, pulling her onto his lap. Ardeth scowled. It was times like this she really hated being so much smaller than her boyfriend. She really hated...ooh but she didn't hate that.
A tiny chuckle vibrated against her skin as she unconsciously arched her neck into his mouth, her hands kneading his shoulders. 'Ah, to hell with it.'
Grinning, she caught his lower lip playfully between her teeth. Jake snorted and took over the kiss, claiming her mouth.
The first knock on the door went unheard. The second, not so much. Jake went rigid and jerkily turned his head to stare over her shoulder at the closed front door.
Clearly he could see – or smell – something she couldn't, although as a human, that wasn't surprising. For a moment, Ardeth couldn't work out why he looked so damn freaked out. Well, as freaked out as a half-naked werewolf with a raging hard-on could look.
The pounding on the door resumed, a distinct edge to the sound.
'Oh right...'
Prying Jake's suddenly pliable arms off her body, she stood unsteadily and wiped her mouth. Anxiety attack or not, the werewolf snorted at that.
Ardeth scowled and poked him in the chest. "Stay," she hissed. "I'ma go find out just how bad this is." Leaving Jake to sit – huddle – on the couch she stepped into the hallway.
"It's bad," Jake informed her from his protective hunch among the couch cushions. His eyes bored into the wall as though he could see through it to the door. Ardeth shook her head, tumbling her fringe back over her forehead. She puffed at it distractedly and opened the door.
Sam blinked at her, unburying his hands from his pockets. "Ardeth." He actually sounded surprised. (Funny, considering it was her house.) Ardeth fought the automatic urge to clutch the sleepshirt tighter to her body as yellowed eyes skimmed her up and down. The werewolf’s nostrils flared.
"Sam, what are you doing here?" she asked, more to gauge the situation than anything else. Almost four years of this sort of thing had taught her a few tricks.
The question seemed to throw him.
Ardeth took the opportunity to take in his state of dress... or undress. The standard ratty jeans were no surprise, but she was caught off-guard by the lack of, well, shirt. Sam had thrown on an unzipped fleece-lined jacket, but under that he was bare-chested. She glanced over her shoulder into the shadowy lounge room, where she could make out the rough shape of her boyfriend. Okay, so maybe she had underestimated the situation. Sam usually made sure he was fully clothed before leaving La Push as a human.
Less than the wolves blithely displayed on a normal day, the strip of skin was nevertheless distracting. She’d be lying if she said she’d never had an idle thought about the Alpha, but at the moment, he was here to harass her partner. Right. Yes. Priorities. More important things to do and all that… She spared a thought for Emily, but Sam was talking.
"—looking for..." He trailed off.
Ardeth took a disconcerted step back; was he scenting the air?
The Alpha seemed to steady himself. "Jake, actually."
"Yeah, I'll bet."
"What's that supposed to mean?"
Ardeth wasn't exactly intimidated, but she inched a hand up the door just the same. "Sam, I'm not an idiot. I do know what time of year it is."
He smiled easily. "Okay good. Then you know Jake should—"
"What?" she asked flatly. "He should what, Sam? You should leave."
The light spilling out through the doorway threw shadows onto his angular face, but it didn't stop Ardeth from seeing his eyes darken threateningly. "Ardeth, you really—"
"Now, Sam. I've got a pretty good idea of what's going through your mind, and no. That's not going to happen.” Ardeth clenched her jaw against the niggling fear as Sam started to tense up, face hardening.
"What's not going to happen, Ardeth?" he asked, silk over steel.
"You're not. Getting. Jake. Sam. Not now, not over my unconscious body. For Christssakes, Sam, you’re pack leader," she cried, exasperation getting the better of her. “You’re supposed to protect these boys, not take advantage of them!”
“Take advantage—” The tall werewolf towered over her as his ire sparked.
Ardeth made to close the door but Sam hesitated. He didn’t want to acquire his aim by force? Or he was starting to fight the pull. That was good—if she could stall for long enough…
The pack was cautious of her. For reasons unknown (that Swan girl sowing dumb ideas into humans?) Ardeth could, and would, face down the pack – or an angry werewolf (coughPaulcough) – to accomplish a goal. (Or maybe Ardeth was just crazy. Evidence supported the theory: Exhibit A, whipping Embry once in fooseball through beginner’s luck and then gloating about it.)
But if Ardeth had known the pack felt this way, right then she’d have laughed herself into hysteria. She didn’t feel scary. She felt like whimpering and heading for the hills, and Sam wasn’t giving up easily enough for her comfort.
If he had been fighting, he’d given in. Staring down with something bordering contempt in his black eyes, he hissed, "He’s pack. My pack. You’re human. You're in no position to deny me anything." One step forward with a bit of a lean to it put him just about eye-level with Ardeth.
She stared levelly back, dark eyes cool. At the very least she wouldn't show fear.
"I know he's here Ardeth, I tracked him. Move."
Her chin jerked out defiantly. "No." Sam's eyes bored angrily into hers. His very outline seemed to vibrate in the cool night air. Ardeth stood her ground, shivering but defiant. "I'm not moving Sam. Leave."
Lip lifting in a snarl, Sam's face twisted in rage. His fist was at shoulder level before she knew he had moved it.
A low growl rumbled through the air against Ardeth's back. Sam's eyes snapped up over her shoulder, his rictus of anger vanishing. Jake – human, presumably – was standing in the hallway behind her; she didn't have to look to know. Sam straightened minutely. Jake had to be staring him down over her head, daring him to throw the punch. She fought the urge to flinch and stood tall, all her faith resting on Jake. If Sam hit her, she’d do more than go flying: he might very well cave in her skull even before she hit the wall. God help her if she hadn’t trusted Jake enough to put her life in his hands. Wolves were very protective of their mates, and she supposed that meant her. Hoped, anyway.
The rumbling drew out, Sam straightening by degrees. Ardeth was relieved to note the animalistic shadow that had appeared in the black eyes was fading. He seemed to be getting a handle on himself again. Only...
A strange expression took shape. Ardeth frowned. Something about this new face was making the hair on the back of her neck stand up.
Sam stared down at Ardeth, and she had the uncomfortable feeling he was studying her. He glanced over her shoulder and stepped a little closer.
Attention sharply focused on the werewolf in front of her, she noted vaguely that the timbre of the rumble had altered incrementally. Sam's presence wasn't threatening now, it was... something else. She couldn't quite identify it. A slight noise behind her, skin on wood; Jake walked a little closer.
He was studying them both now, looking over her head to communicate something to Jake with his eyes and then flicking his gaze back down over Ardeth. The growl wavered up in pitch then down again.
"Fine," Sam breathed, still staring over her head.
Ardeth was abruptly cold; goosebumps running down her spine as a chill reminded her uncomfortably that her shirt ended at mid-thigh and was unbuttoned down to her ribs. She'd forgotten completely. Hand on the door, she suddenly wanted to take a step back, away from Sam and his weirdly intense eyes.
Sam took another step forward and her body did it instinctively. A smile ghosted across the Alpha’s lips at the reaction. His eyes flicked up to Jacob's, and his tongue flicked out to wet his lips, almost nervously.
"Whatever it takes," he murmured to himself.
Ardeth twitched her head. Whatever what took? The dark eyes dropped back to hers. The shade of a smirk appeared on the full lips, and Ardeth took another small – involuntary – step back. Regardless, Sam was still too close for her continuing peace of mind. Way too close.
Her concern was compounded when he closed the already narrow distance between them with a determined look on his handsome face. The growl was still vibrating in the air, only it was a completely different tenor. Jake sounded... pleased. Approving?
Shit. What just happened? Wait: Alpha, Beta... cycles... Jake’s cycle timed in once every six months—and as a Beta, his cycle was synced with the Alpha’s. Jake was in rut because Sam was, and when Jake was in rut, he was irrational, aggressive… and single-minded.
Ardeth's eyes widened.
"Sam, wait, no, back up, that's not—" She backed away. "Sam, quit it! I mean it. We can talk about this—maybe tomorrow, over coffee? Do it the right way, like adults. Would you back up, please? I'm not that kind of barrier, it's... Jake, help..." Her escape route ran out, blocked by a broad chest.
Sam grinned. If the only way to get Jacob off guard – to ‘get Jacob’ period – was to go through Ardeth, well... he could deal with that. Ardeth squeaked cutely as she ran out of places to back up to. Yeah, he could deal with that.
He wrapped a hand around her chin.
"You might as well give up, Ardeth." He said her name so low it was a breath of hot air on her lips. “ ‘Submit’.”
She swallowed hard, staring up at him with the look of a cornered animal. Her lips trembled for a moment before she pressed them together tightly. Her knuckles turned white against her thighs.
Sam snorted softly and turned her head to the side so he could whisper in her ear. "I will have him, and if I have to to do that, I will have you."
She shivered, eyes wide, and jerked her chin from his grip.
The corner of his lips turning up in a small smile, Sam turned her face back to his and kissed her. When she wouldn't open her mouth, he bit down sharply on her lower lip, deep enough that she’d have a scab for a few days. Ardeth gave a little gasp of pain and the werewolf took advantage of it to plunge his tongue into her mouth. A tiny trickle of blood added to the tang that was distinctly Ardeth, though there was a trace of something deeper that might have been Jacob. Come to think of it, he had been able to smell arousal in the air when he arrived, although he'd assumed it was just Jacob. Now he was able to separate out the lighter notes—the distinctly ‘Ardeth’ ones.
Ardeth struggled, trying to break away.
If she backed out, there was no way in hell Jacob would go through with anything. Sam growled a warning into her mouth and tightened his grip around her forearms hard enough to drive the blood from the area. The woman whimpered in response, twisting away as her hands scrabbled at his jeans, trying to get a grip on something, anything. Jacob narrowed his eyes at Sam over her shoulder, and the Alpha relaxed his grip a little. The struggling let up. All right, so maybe she'd be a willing accomplice... Or maybe not. He snickered, forcing her head back against Jacob's chest as he kissed her and forestalling any further attempt at escape. But this was a little restrictive.
Currently, his hands were occupied holding her arms firmly to her sides. That wasn't going to work. "Little help here, Jake?" he growled out of the corner of his mouth. The younger werewolf chuckled, relaxed now he was sure his mate was in no danger, and slid his arms around Ardeth's waist, pinning her arms. Satisfied with his newly freed hands, Sam kicked the door shut and lifted his head to scan the surroundings briefly.
"Jake, come on...." Blood tracing the curve of her lips, Ardeth was pleading with her boyfriend, whose only response was to nudge her shirt off a shoulder and latch onto the newly exposed flesh. Her breath hitched.
Sam's eyes darkened as he took in the display. Damn, was he looking forward to having Jacob do that to him. Ardeth was... a temporary hurdle. Okay, a very hot, very sweet hurdle that he wouldn't mind jumping in more ways than one.
The mouth moved to nibble on the slender column of her throat, and – somewhat against her will, Sam suspected – she released a breathy moan.
“You can fight this. This is just lust,” she gritted, pulling her mouth away. “ ‘Lust’. You know it? It’s a four-letter word. Like ‘Heat’—which is what this is. Like ‘Love’, and ‘Soap’. And ‘Food’.”
“How many letters in ‘fuck’?” Jacob mumbled into her neck.
“Jake…”
“Nope. One more try.” Jacob slid an arm down the front of her shirt to carry on unbuttoning the thick, soft material. Ardeth wriggled. Sam couldn't tell if she was trying to escape or egg Jacob on, but when he ran his thumb over the crotch of her panties, she pressed back into Jacob like she was trying to phase through him.
“All right, try this one,” she panted. “E-M-I-L-Y.”
“Five letters. Doesn’t ring a bell.”
“Think harder, Cujo.”
Jacob’s laughter was half chuckle, half growl. Pushing Sam’s hand out of the way, he dipped two fingers past the elastic of her panties. The way she bucked made heat spike up Sam’s spine. Jacob’s breath was hot on Sam’s neck; the Beta was close enough for Sam to follow the exact movements of his eyes pupils blowing into a razor’s edge of brown around the black.
This time when Sam slanted his mouth across Ardeth’s, she didn’t resist.

________________________________________________________
TBC.

It's a little sad that I started this (as 'Dysfunction Is A Four Letter Word') back in 2009. But that, if nothing else, should tell you I'm determined to finish it. It just won't die.
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The Sweet Hereafter

Ch 1: Twice A Year