So, in a nutshell my basic mood for the last few weeks has been 'spring has sprung and now I feel all frisky!' so I decided to turn it into a fic. (Well, it was either that or run naked in the woods again.) There's something weirdly liberating and enjoyable about spring! And it does tend to make you more than averagely amorous. It can't just be me, right? RIGHT??
The lemon in this fic isn't particularly graphic or anything—it's actually one of the tamer lemons I've written for this fandom—but it's still a lemon.
There was something about spring that made Alice go all silly and behave completely uncharacteristically. Every year, without fail. It was some combination of the warmth and the new life and the defrosting of New England and just general spring fever that rearranged her brain chemistry, at least for a little while. When she was in high school she'd get all flirty with the boys she usually preferred to beat up, and as an adult she'd smile flirtatiously at the guys at the coffee place and at men strolling buy the dojo window—for no reason at all, just because she felt like it.
It was warm outside for the first time since early October and she could go out in a skirt without having to wear layers of leggings and tights. Windows were open all over the city, apartments and houses all stuffy from months of being shut up to the outside world were aired out. T-shirts and light spring coats came out of storage and the winter boots and long underwear and mittens and itchy scarves were crammed into the backs of closets where they'd stay until Thanksgiving or the first ice, whichever came first.
Spring put everyone in a good mood—even Alice.
It did other things, too.
She was giggly and cheerful and getting downright silly and letting off all of this excess springtime amorous energy by flirting with Hatter all the time—he was confused by the attention, but clearly enjoyed it.
One morning, Alice decided rather impulsively to scrap the normally chaste kiss she'd give Hatter before she left for work and practically climbed into his lap at the breakfast table and nearly sucked the lips right off his face. When she was done with him, she stood up and took a step back; his hair was nicely mussed and his lips were red and his mouth was open a little and his expression was best described as 'shell-shocked'. It was a job well done, she mused as she left.
"What the hell was that kiss all about?" He asked her that night when he got home from his shift at the bar where he was working part-time.
"Didn't you like it?" She asked with a mock-pout, still positively giddy just because it wasn't winter anymore.
"That's not it—I liked it a little too much, yeah?"
Alice giggled and grinned and kissed him and playfully grabbed his ass and bit his ear, and laughed again when he squeaked. "Do I need a reason?" She asked.
His face was red and he cleared his throat before answering, "No—no, I don't suppose you do."
That wasn't the end of it.
She stopped by the bar when he was working, which she hardly ever did because she couldn't stand seeing all the female patrons—and sometimes some of the male ones—hitting shamelessly on Hatter, but there was a 'Joan and the Blackhearts' tribute band playing that night and she wanted to see it. And maybe have a little fun with Hatter. She wore a low-cut top and those painted-on-tight low-rise jeans that always made him have to cross his legs.
"You never come see me at work," he said a little suspiciously when she surprised him.
"Thought I'd surprise you. Why, have you got a whole 'nother girlfriend you entertain here?" She teased.
"Not funny, Alice. Some of these women are downright predatory."
Instead of leaving him a tip she leaned over the bar and pulled him over to her by his customary too-loose tie and kissed him. When she sat back down she noticed the jealous death-glares from a group of girls at the end of the bar and couldn't help a malicious stab of glee.
That's right, she thought—mine, all mine.
"They've been tryin' to get into my pants all night," he murmured. "I told 'em I was spoken for but that doesn't deter them."
"It wouldn't."
"You could kiss me again, it might help."
It probably wouldn't have, but she could hardly resist an invitation like that so she pulled herself up onto the bar—she tried not to think about how filthy that bar probably was—and wrapped her arms around him, slid his hat off, and kissed him until they both went breathless. She pulled back slightly and ran her tongue up the side of his throat, feeling the scrape of stubble and tasting a slight tang of sweat on her tongue.
He had a white-knuckle grip on the edge of the bar when she hopped down and turned to go closer to the stage where the band was warming up.
"You're here 'til last call, right?" She asked; he nodded dumbly. "I'll see you when you get home then," she said cheerfully.
"For goodness sake, Alice!" He hissed. "You can't kiss me like that and then just leave me here!"
She giggled helplessly and decided it was much more fun to kiss him like that and leave him hanging, as it were. She was hardly ever this silly and she wanted to take advantage of it while it lasted.
Alice went by the bookstore the next time he worked there to bring him lunch and a cup of tea—she had a break between classes—and taunted him mercilessly, teasing him and grabbing his thigh and tickling his knee under the table as they sat at one of the tables outside. He squeaked and whimpered at her but seemed caught somewhere between hating what she was doing and loving it.
He was already quite red when he went into the back of the store to clean up after eating and she followed him, cornering him. His eyes nearly bugged out when she unbuttoned his jeans and slid a hand into his pants.
"We could get caught back here!" He rasped, like he was trying to come up with reasons for himself to protest her behaviour and apparently having a difficult time of it.
"I know. That's what makes it fun."
There weren't any cameras back there and the store was mostly quiet and there was another guy at the till so he wouldn't be missed if he hung around in the back room with her for a little while.
"This is such a piss-bad idea," he murmured even as he steered her into the back of the stockroom between crates of unpacked books. "This is a really, really bad idea."
"You seem pretty enthusiastic for it anyway," she purred.
It was a spur-of-the-moment decision and she hadn't actually planned to do this—if she had she'd've come dressed for the occasion and not worn underwear—so they fumbled helplessly, and in Hatter's case nervously, with their clothing and zips and buttons. Back against the wall, skirt up, jeans down; she bit his shoulder through his shirt and he rammed his fist into the wall behind her, but they managed to stay otherwise quiet. By the time someone thought to come back and check on them, they were dressed again and snogging in the corner.
"Okay, David, you had your fun," the other guy from the till said, leaning his head into the back room. "Now stop makin' out with your girlfriend before you get carried away. Your lunch break's over anyway."
The whole 'carried away' thing was funnier than it should have been, and Alice laughed softly and then gave Hatter one last kiss before she slipped out of the back room and out of the store into the spring afternoon. She turned her face into the sun, warming herself, before she headed back to work with a jaunty little bounce in her step.
That evening she waited in their darkened apartment for him to get home and pounced on him the second he walked through the door. At first he was tensed and shocked—it wasn't often someone actually snuck up on Hatter or surprised him at all, and normally it was him being the sneaky one and surprising her and not the other way around.
"Take it easy, Alice, I'm still recovering from this afternoon!" But he laughed good-naturedly and let her push him back down the hall and into the bedroom.
Neither of them was working the next day so they slept in late. Hatter woke up first and went for the shower; she heard the water running when she got up. Unannounced and uninvited, she pulled off the t-shirt she slept in and climbed in with him. He nearly leaped out of the tub when he saw her.
"Cheshire cats, Alice!" He yelped in surprise and shock. "I thought you were still asleep!"
"I was. Now I'm not."
He was awfully sexy standing there under the stream of water in the shower, his hair wet and stuck to his neck and to his face, water dripping and running down his face and chest. He was scruffy—he was always scruffy, a permanent shadow of whiskers on his face, his hair wild, his clothes always partially rumpled like he'd just been in some kind of kerfuffle with someone—which always added to his general air of hovering between worldly and dangerous, and she loved it.
She stood on her toes and leaned close to him and kissed him. Water dripped off of him and onto her head and hair and down her back—the water was cool, but Hatter warmed up very quickly. She crushed her breasts to his chest and her hips to his without so much as an air molecule between them. He groaned into the kiss and pulled her closer still, hands on her waist and her hip and probably leaving finger-marks in her skin.
Shower sex was something that worked better in theory—and in movies and smutty romance novels—than in practice. The floor of the tub was dangerously slick and there wasn't much room, Hatter inevitably having to hold her up between him and the uncomfortably cold tile wall and the water tended to rinse away the lubrication her body provided, producing more friction than normal. Really, it was much more trouble than it was worth. So instead, Alice sank to her knees and took him into her mouth, grasping his hips firmly.
He braced one hand on the shower wall and tangled the other in her wet hair, moaning wordlessly as she teased him with her tongue and grazed him ever-so-softly with her teeth. She sat back on her heels and let him almost slide out of her lips and flicked her tongue over the head—she slowly licked the little white droplet of semen away, salty-bitter on her tongue, and he ground out her name, voice strangled. She sucked her tongue dry in her mouth and gave another lick, long and slow with a rough dry tongue, before taking him back into her mouth.
By now she knew exactly how to push his buttons and he didn't last long under her mouth and her tongue. He slumped forward into the shower wall, panting heavily and letting the cold water run down his back. Alice giggled, silly and giddy and strangely girlish; she tickled her fingernails gently up his thighs and kissed his hip and then just below his navel before she got to her feet and nuzzled his neck. He leaned into her with his head on her shoulder.
"Hell's bells, Alice. What's got into you lately?"
She raised an eyebrow. "Are you complaining?"
"No—'course not. No, it's just… you're being more… unusually…"
"Frisky?" She finished for him.
"Yeah. Nothin' wrong with that, but it's a change in you."
She giggled and bit his ear. "Springtime's gone to my head. And… other places."
She squirmed away from him and stepped soaking wet out of the shower and stood dripping on the fuzzy goldfish-shaped bathmat. He frowned, confused, until she crooked a finger at him, beckoning.
"C'mon. I'm not done and I don't think you are, either."
He slammed the taps off and bounded out of the shower like an overexcited Labrador. They didn't bother with towels as she led him out of the bathroom and into the bedroom, dripping on the floors the whole way. He lifted her up over his shoulder and dumped her into bed before climbing up after her, crawling in between her thighs with a playful growl.
It was springtime—and Alice wasn't the only one feeling a little frisky.
I have got to stop writing porn. I know I've said that along with every smutfic I've written, but I can't stop! It's a bad addiction. I'm working on a couple of more substantial fics at the moment (including a continuation of 'Keeping Warm' for those of you who are interested), so now I've gotten this out of my system I hope to be able to get back to working on those. Hope you've enjoyed the read!
