Jasper (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
keptherwaiting) wrote2020-07-29 04:32 pm
keptherwaiting) wrote2020-07-29 04:32 pm
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.
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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He bumps his nose with hers, and kisses her again and again.
“Technically, I had to wait a - hundred an’ five years for you,” he teases, his lips barely leaving hers.
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She traces the lines of his face, his nose, lips. “I wanted so badly to find you sooner. But you weren’t ready for me. Any time I tried to alter it, make the decision, it was just...”
Bad. He wouldn’t come; he wouldn’t believe her; worse still—he might have done things to please Maria. It was never clear, because those visions hadn’t been right.
“Anyway,” she sighs, leaning in to kiss the corner of his lips. “You weren’t ready for me. And even though it wasn’t perfect, I think you needed that time with Peter and Charlotte too.”
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“Everything I went through eventually brought me to you. Maybe it’s why I fought so hard.”
He’d liked to think there was a purpose to it all. How, even in the darkest of moments, he’d never given up.
“And what’s happened, that’s all behind us now, okay?”
He smiles at her.
“I love you.”
And he’ll keep saying it until she smiles again, if he has to.
“I love you.”
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The love she feels for him is so bright, so blinding, radiating through her like the sun.
“I love you,” Alice whispers against his mouth, fiercely. She curls herself against him, pressing herself so close, as close as she can. “God, Jasper, I love you.”
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His love for her courses through him to her with each kiss and accompanies each word he whispers.
He can tell it’s affecting the rooms around them now, and he still doesn’t care. It’s a profound thing, irrepressible. It may be the only time the poor souls ever feel anything so pure and genuine.
He’s dizzy with it himself.
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It makes her grin against his mouth, makes her giggle softly into his kisses, the slow press and slide of lips as they bask in the truth of it all.
He loves her. It’s such a giddy thing. Three words that make her dead heart soar. She aches with the knowledge of it, the precious thing he’s given her.
“I thought I’d wait longer,” she whispers, “to hear you say it. The possibility was always there—but I thought it would be longer. Me and my big mouth changed that.”
Alice huffs another laugh against his mouth, not wanting to move a millimeter from his lips. “A rare time I can be thankful for that.”
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She’s a true force of nature, and it’s only one the many things he loves about her.
“Well now you’ll never stop hearing it. I’ll tell you every hour of every day. More.”
He squeezes her in a hug, his strong arms tight around her tiny waist, and yet not even a fraction of his true strength, always vowing to be gentle with her. She’ll never feel unsafe in his arms.
She’ll never feel unsafe, regardless, or go unprotected so long as he’s about.
(She may even find it a little annoying at times how protective he’ll be of her.)
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Alice strokes his cheeks, pressing kisses into his hairline, dragging her nose against his cheek.
Then, kissing him again, softly: “You should make love to me now, now that we’ve said the words.”
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But he’s already lifting her up and gently placing her on the bed.
“Having a younger vampire for a mate is exhausting,” he teases, just before kissing her softly.
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“Mate,” she breathes, her voice soft, small, but only because she’s turning the word over and over in her head.
“It’s funny,” Alice whispers, a laugh escaping her. “I never...the word rarely crossed my mind before. Silly, because what else would we be but mates?”
Bumping his nose with hers, her grin is blinding. “Say it again.”
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“Of course we’re mates.”
Which he says with such certainty as he kisses the corner of her smile.
“My love,” he whispers, kissing the tip of her nose next. “My mate.”
He settles atop of her, blanketing her body with his, and just starts pressing sweet kisses tiny all over her smile.
“You do know what that means, right?”
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She ducks the next kiss so she can catch his cheek, then his chin.
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He captures her in a kiss which he draws out for a long moment, the slide of his lips against hers, the slip of his tongue against hers.
And then he’s ducking his head to mouth at her jaw, pausing to whisper - “A pledge to always provide for you as I can.” - before he trails his teeth along her neck and lower still.
“My unwavering promise to protect this perfect, gorgeous body of yours,” which emphasizes with a nip at her collarbone.
“And,” he shifts upward again to kiss her once more, “countless days and nights of making love.”
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Her grin is wide against his lips, and she wraps her arms around his shoulders to keep him there, against her, her knees bracketing either side of him.
Not that she thinks he's going to move away, but the mere idea of him shifting off of her, to look at her, anything, is too much to bear just now. She needs his skin against hers, his hips against hers. Fitting together perfectly even when they're such opposites.
"How do I follow that up?" She whispers, her lips moving against his. "You say such perfect and sweet things and I turn to mush; completely useless."
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“Just tell me you love me again,” he murmurs.
Adding, with a grin, “And maybe I’ll protect your mind and feelings too.”
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Alice kisses him again, soft and sweet. Her fingers find and trace scars at his shoulders as she parts her lips under his, deepening the kiss, a soft noise escaping her, muffled by his mouth.
Her soft love, the light that burns low and warm within her, sharpens. Turns into something headier, needy, wanting. Her kiss turning harder, fingers clutching at his arms. She could kiss him for hours, days, weeks.
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“Darlin’, we’re gonna need to negotiate the terms of protecting your feelings,” he teases against her lips, hardly leaving her space, as he slides his hands between the tight space of their bodies, to between her legs.
Because the first brush of his fingers against her and he amps up the desire already coursing through her. The second brush, even more so. The third, and the fourth.
“This still okay, right?”
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A moan falls from her lips, her fingers tight at his shoulders and she nods, frantically, at his question, his fingers. “I don’t wanna protect my feelings around you,” Alice gasps out, shifting as her hips chase his fingers. “Christ, Jasper—“
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He’d kiss her again but he doesn’t want to muffle for her moans. He loves hearing her so unrestrained. His name torn from her throat in her throes.
(Even though, there’s a spike of exasperated annoyance from the rooms around them from their not-so-quiet love-making.)
“Good. Don’t,” he just says as he removes his fingers from her long enough to position and guide himself into her again.
“ - I love you.”
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“I love you,” Alice whines, whimpers, her hands sliding into his hair, tugging at the strands as her fingers flex and tighten. “God, I love you so much.”
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His thrusts are slow, driving as deep as he can without leaving her with each, wanting to stay as close and connected to her as possible.
“I love you too. I love you so much.”
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The slow drag of him inside of her threatens her sanity, has her scrabbling at his back for purchase. She turns her head to catch his lips with hers, making him swallow the noises she makes.
He’s perfect. They’re perfect. Everything she waited for, and more.
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Loves her.
He ends up panting against her lips as he starts thrusting harder, a little faster, the pace still steady and deep, his sanity feeling as threatened as her own.
He grips the bed for purchase, his fingers twisting in the sheets, and the headboard bangs against the wall with some particularly well-aimed thrusts.
“Alice,” he whines against her mouth, panting still. “God, darlin’.”
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As needy and raw as she feels.
Every move of his hips sends sparks down her spine, fueling that fire in her belly to a fever pitch. One leg slips from his back to plant against the mattress, giving her something to push up against him with, meeting him thrust for thrust.
Alice feels like she’s suffocating, drowning, in the desire and love and need that surrounds them. She’s so close—so close.
His name is a soft chant that she can’t hold back, her eyes squeezing shut. She wants to keep them open, to see his face when he comes, but it’s all so overwhelming.
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“I want - I want you to finish first,” he gasps against her lips, kissing her again and again. “C’mon, darlin’.”
He tears the bedding just a little as he moves his hand to grip her leg, the one she planted to meet his thrust, and he uses the touch to draw on the emotions between them again, blanketing her with them all the more.
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