keptherwaiting | 1948, Philadelphia

1948, Philadelphia

Waiting for Alice to finish getting ready, Jasper is far more excited and confident than nervous for their date this time.

She’d made him shower first, not wanting him to put on his fancy clothes without one, and then she’d disappeared into the bathroom with more than one bag in her arms after he’d finished. His suit had been left on the bed, which he’d changed into quickly - a perfect fit, because she knows him so perfectly and so finely crafted too - and then he’d been left to more or less think about their upcoming night.

He feels good, more sure of himself than he has been in awhile, and vows to make up for the little stumbles earlier by making sure Alice has a great time tonight.

He’s sure Alice will look beautiful, she always does, and he knows he looks great, because Alice picked out the suit especially for him. He wonders where they’ll go to dance; Alice has said she knew of a place. And it’s still early enough, a Friday, and even the quietest of weeknights in Philly have seen plenty of activity.

He’s just thinking of fetching another bouquet of flowers for her - the other already artfully displayed on a table - when the door to the bathroom finally creaks open.

He turns and sucks in an appropriately sharp breath at the sight of her.

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“That grin, how could I say no?” Jasper says with a laugh, already closing the distance between them to kiss her.

Not that he’d say no, regardless. He loves kissing her. The way she delights in him being so close, her hands in his hair, the feel of her lips against him, their attention fixed on each other and no one else.

He kisses her softly, deeply, hungrily.

She may have to drag him to the floor again or he’ll just spend the rest of the night kissing her in this booth.

At this moment, Alice is perfectly content to just kiss and be kissed.

She loves the shape of his mouth against hers, the graze of his teeth against her bottom lip, the slide of his tongue along hers. The grip of his hand on her, the feel of his hair against her fingers.

Him.

She knows with absolute certainty that he will love her (that he already does even if he doesn’t realize it yet—how could he not? After all, everyone loves Alice!) soon, as much as she loves him.

Until he says the words though, she’ll keep them close to her heart if she can. Show him, instead. Which she does by kissing him back; softly, deeply, hungrily.

Her hand cupping the line of his jaw, her fingers tangled in his hair, pulling herself against him further, knee sliding over his. She’ll get back to that dancing thing in a minute.

She pulls herself closer to him, and he pulls her closer still. Practically in his lap, his hand disappearing under her skirt again with her knee on his like that.

He’s forgotten the rest of the room and he’s lost in her, in the moment. He pours his feelings into the kiss, in the slide of his fingers on her skin.

A hundred and five years, and he’s foolishly and feverishly enthusiastic about just kissing. He’d maybe laugh at himself if he weren’t so wrapped up in it. She just makes him feel so alive again.

There’s a wolf-whistle from someone walking by, followed by laughter as the whistler is rough housed by his friends.

Alice pulls away, just enough, to shoot them a glare. Way to ruin her fun, guys.

Looking back at Jasper, she sighs a soft, exasperated laugh. “Oh dammit, my lipstick again—“

She stays close to him as she grabs her small purse, her leg still thrown over his. Retrieving a mirror and a handkerchief, she fixes her smudged lips before attending to his. “Okay,” Alice whispers, breathless and close to his face. “Two more dances and then I wanna go back to the hotel and I wanna kiss you like that again. But more, and in private.”

Jasper nearly leans in to kiss her again, right then and there. He hadn’t been too bothered by the interruption, would have kept going even, but the sweet promise of more to come -

He grins.

“C’mon then, let’s get back out there.”

He takes her hand in his and is leading her back to the floor. It’s a faster paced song already playing and he starts off on the right foot, swinging and spinning her out onto the floor.

They dance, swinging around, spinning out, hands always touching the other's. She doesn't want to stop touching him, doesn't want to let go.

Beside them, a man flips the girl he's with over his shoulder and the other dancers clap at their display. Alice watches them with a shrewd look--one day soon she's going to be able to do that, she's sure of it. Just not yet, not when it's the first time dancing with Jasper.

The band finishes this song with a flourish, and the group on the floor claps loudly. One of the band members comes to the microphone, announces their singer for the next song. She's dressed like a movie star, and she glides up to the microphone with easy grace. A slow song, a love ballad.

The others around them dance closely and Alice is no exception to this rule. She takes Jasper's hand in one of her own, the other settling at his waist as they move in time to the beat. "I feel like," she starts, blinking up at him as they do a little turn. "There's so much more for us to find out about each other, yet I keep finding myself without questions to ask, or things to say. I think you've stolen my ability to talk, Mr. Whitlock."

“And here I thought it was you just knew everything there was to know about me already.”

He jokes and yet - She does have him at an advantage. It doesn’t scare him, though. He just holds her close, staring down at her.

“Maybe I should have questions,” he says somewhat seriously, “But - I don’t know. Feels like I already know you in some ways? I’m comfortable with you. Everything else - Well, we got time.”

He’ll learn all about her as he needs to, her likes and dislikes, what she loves and hates, her pet peeves, her dreams.

“And, for the record - “ He grins at her, eyes twinkling because he loves this about her: “You start ramblin’ when you’re nervous and I’ve gathered a good lot from that.”

"You make me nervous," Alice's nose wrinkles as she looks up at him, feeling a little off-kilter, but in a good way. The way he makes her feel. "I've never worried much about impressing people or wondering what they think of me..."

They make another turn on the floor, her skirt fluttering around her knees.

"I know what you think of me--you tell me often enough and that helps. But I don't know," she murmurs, reaching up tug on a wayward lock of his hair. "I've never really been nervous about anything else before. Probably because it was worth bein' nervous about. You're worth it, though."

“Can I tell you what I think?”

He only asks because he’s worried she may not like him gauging her feelings in a serious way. Maria never did; she always hated being called out on her feelings.

"Of course," she whispers, sadness wafting over her. "You don't have to ask for that--just don't...I don't know, calm me down when I'm righteously angry or something."

“I’m not planning to?”

Jasper smiles softly at her, trying to get her to smile again, not liking the sadness that lines her brow now.

“No, I just - You’re afraid too, when you’re nervous, and I think you’re afraid I’ll leave you if you say or do the wrong thing?”

He pulls her closer, even with how close they already are, hardly moving to the music.

“I like your rambling but you don’t have to be nervous; I’m not leaving.”

His words make her more nervous at first. The absolute honesty of being seen how she is. It's disconcerting, for a moment, even as she reconciles it.

"I got used to bein' on my own," Alice whispers, her lips turning up in a strange smile--not happy but not sad either. "I guess I'm worried I'll have to go back to that. It's an awful lonely existence without you."

She breaks her gaze with him, focusing on his shoulder, lips pursing as she thinks. It was a truth she hadn't meant to speak: it's an awful lonely existence without you--she'd meant to just end it without adding him to it. But it's true. She'd be lost without him.

She'd have been lost without him for the last twenty-eight years, if that vision hadn't persisted, hadn't filled her with such hope and joy upon waking up.

Looking back at him, Alice truly smiles this time, if not a little shyly. "I worry, because I don't want to hurt you. I worry because...I know you've been hurt. I worry because I know I'm...a lot, but you're worth the worry, Jasper. Because it'll be sporadic and most of our time together will be wonderful and real and I promise you that."

“I like the sound of real,” Jasper whispers, and he wraps his arm around her to lift her from the ground so he can kiss her.

“Want to get out of here now?”

Alice wraps her arms around his shoulders, bumping his nose with hers. "Please. I wanna kiss you more."

She kisses him now, again, for good measure.

"I gotta grab my bag," she mumbles against his mouth. "And leave a tip for the waitress."

“A big one. Think we scared her off three times when we were kissing in the booth,” he says with a laugh when he sets her down.

He walks with her back to the table to gather her things and leave a wad of bills on the table, enough for the bill and a generous tip.

He tucks her close against his side as they walk out into the night.

“I had a good time, Miss Alice. Thank you.”

Alice imagines they look rather silly to anyone passing them by--her, tiny, tucked into his, so tall, side. But she loves it. It feels right.

Perfect. Safe.

"I'm glad, Mr. Whitlock," she grins up at him, a bounce in her step. "Perhaps when I'm not as desperate to spend all my moments kissin' you, we can stay longer next time. And we still have to go to the movies too!"

They get back to the hotel quicker than they left it--perhaps because Alice was hurrying them along with tiny, quick steps up the street. Though--to be fair, her steps would be like that anyway, to keep up with him.

Through the lobby, up the elevator (a kiss when the attendant is turned again) and into their room. Alice is unbuttoning her jacket as she walks through the door, eager to lose the heels.

Not that she needs to, but, still. Comfort. She tosses the jacket on one of the armchairs by the window, perching on the arm to begin untying the bows at her ankle. "Thank you, Jasper," Alice beams at him, glancing over at the bouquet of flowers in the vase on the dresser. "For a lovely first date. I couldn't imagine anything more perfect."

Jasper has already laid his suit jacket aside and unbuttoned the cuff links of his shirt when he joins Alice, helping her with the straps of her heels.

Not that she needs the help; more so, he needs to touch her. His fingers are gentle on the bows, his hand as gentle when he slips the shoe off her foot.

“You’re welcome,” he murmurs, kissing her bare shoulder. “I enjoyed it too. And we’ll have more, like you said. Longer, when we’re not so desperate.”

He kisses her other shoulder when he helps her with Her other shoe.

“Though, I can’t ever imagine not being desperate to kiss you, darlin’.”

He makes her feel so vibrant, so alive, when he says such sweet things, when he touches her with such gentle hands.

When he's set her other shoe down, she reaches for his hands, sliding her fingers against his until they slot between them, pulling him forward to kiss him again.

For a moment, the only noises in the room are the press of their lips and the rustle of satin and crinoline when she shifts minutely. He takes the breath out of her lungs, just by existing, more so when she has her mouth on his.

"Our dates are going to be awfully short, then," Alice whispers against his lips. "Because I don't think I'll ever not be desperate either."

Jasper grins against her lips, at her words, and then he picks her up. To carry her to the bed and deposit her on the covers.

"Short's fine by me. Long as I'm with you at the end of the night."

He crawls up alongside her, pressing his lips to hers again in another kiss. Hungrier and far less restrained as they had to be in the jazz club.

Not that they were very restrained in the club.

But here she can throw her leg over his hip, properly, so she can slot herself against him. Her fingers slide into his hair again, fiddling with the end of his curls as she kisses him back.

A noise leaves her, a soft whine in the back of her throat as she kisses him deeply, just as hungrily. Pulling back, just a tiny bit, Alice dips her head to press her lips against his chin, jaw, tracing down his neck before moving back to his mouth.

Her hand slides to his back, tugging his shirt out from the waist of his pants, so she can skate her fingers across his skin.

And here he can move against her, press himself to her in such a way that won't get them in trouble in public when she throws her leg over him.

Her fingers on his skin have him wanting more too, wanting to touch her. His find the fastenings of her dress, careful as he unzips her.

He slides a hand up her back, into her hair, as he shifts to scrape his teeth across her jaw and press his mouth to her throat, to suck gently on the skin of where her pulse would be.

The noise that leaves her this time is louder, stronger, her fingers spasming at his back; the scrape of his teeth, lips at her throat, hand in her hair, it's all so much.

In the best way possible.

And also not enough--her hips stutter forward of their own accord, against his, rolling them slightly so he's settled fully on top of her, satin and crinoline bunched up at her hips, the unzipped top half twisting around.

"Hold--" Alice giggles, rolling them again so she's sitting on his stomach, grabbing the edge of her dress to pull it off, throwing it on the ground behind them, leaving her in the strapless bustier-corset she wore under the dress. "I was going to get lost in satin. That's better."

Now she can lean down and kiss him again. Properly.

Jasper meets her kiss with a grin, a laugh.

"I like this look too," he says against her lips, his hands running up the length of her body, all along her curves that the bustier-corset emphasizes.

He kisses her deeply, his hands settling on her hips, and a thought - "I want to tear it off of you." - that he hadn't meant to utter aloud.

He pulls back slightly, an apology ready in case she's offended: "I won't, though. I mean - Unless, you want me to?"

Sitting back up, Alice places her fingers on his lips, shushing him. She feels lightheaded with want, need.

Eyes dark, Alice lets her hand fall from his mouth, moving down his arms until she can reach his wrists, taking them, sliding his hands up her sides to rest just under her breasts.

"Oh," she whispers, her voice a little husky, her hips rolling against him in a small, aborted jerk. "I'd like that very much."

" - Shit, okay."

He doesn't hesitate to rid her of the garment, the fabric unraveling with one sharp tug, and then he's admiring her, his hands gentle again as he palms her breasts.

"You are so beautiful," he murmurs and he sits up to kiss her again. "So perfect."

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