JASPER PUTS A RING ON IT

a/n: Sorry for the delayed update. Real life is such a pain in the ass in that way....ha

a/n: This chapter is what happened to Alice and Jasper the same night Bella threaded some corn and beyond. Corn threading from JPOV isn't as funny as Bella's POV, just thought I'd tip you off. He's more of a sad sack...

a/n: This chapter is full of flashbacks. If it's confusing here's the way the story is framed: Wednesday night-flashback-Saturday-flashback-following Wednesday night. The chapter starts on a Wednesday night after a show and ends on the next Wednesday night after a show.

a/n: Thanks for ALL the reviews and pms from you guys. You ladies are terrific.

a/n: I dedicate this to Esme48, queen of all things Jasperian and Alician!lol And to Vampy, she ain't heavy, she's my pinay sister....lol

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JPOV(This starts out the same night Bella threaded some corn after they played their set at the bar...lol)

"Pancakes?"

"Yes, pancakes," Alice said as if it was the most natural request in the world from her after an enthusiastic set at Casey Moran's.

"IHOP pancakes?" I prodded.

The very ones.

"IHOP, the establishment you always referred to as International House of Pisscakes because your friend waitressed there and said the rats pissed all over the kitchen and ate out of the flour sacks?"

She nodded innocently.

"Hey, everyone should have a blueberry pisscake every now and then, Jas. It makes you hearty - builds up the ol' immune system."

Alice insisted on driving my car, and I glanced over at her as she drove right past....an IHOP. Did I just see a grey Volvo in the very back of the parking lot---

"Not that IHOP," she interjected, reading my face. "That one looks...... too crowded." And impish grin came and went quickly.

She parked in the very back of the next closest IHOP, almost twenty minutes away.

A lot of effort for Alice's version of edible immunization shots.

I started opening my passenger door, but she stopped me midway and reclosed it. Her hand grazed along my thighs as she retreated, instantly freezing me up.

"So," Alice said as she curled her body up in the driver's seat, "what was your favorite song tonight?"

I thought for a second, trying to ignore her skirt riding up her thigh.

'Um.........Your tribute to a pre-"Rock of Love" Brett Michaels with Poison's "Unskinny Bop" was the definite highlight.'

"I know, right?" Her head tilted to the side, a lazy smile appearing out of nowhere as she slid over to my passenger seat and straddled me.

Her arms wrapped around my neck as she began to plant a trail of kisses up my neck.

"How the hell do you unskinny bop, anyways," Alice whispered into my ear before zoning in on my mouth. Her back arched when our lips made contact.

This wasn't good. Not at all.

Alice straddling my lap and arching up against me while inquiring about unskinny bopping was going to end in only one way. The way I swore I wouldn't let it to Edward.

Edward had such an active interest in protecting his sister's virtue lately......once he realized his first line of defense all these years -myself- was now the main threat.

Not that privacy and opportunity presented themselves too often for us Alice and Edward dating one another's roommates, neither could stomach the thought of scheduling "private time" at either of our rooms. Not yet at least.

"Alice," I groaned in between her kisses," I promised Edward....I promised him.... to take it slow..."

She pulled away, a triumphant grin on her face. "Trust me, Edward's too preoccupied now to worry about us."

As she raised her miniskirt slightly while settling back onto my lap, I caught a flash of black lace underneath.

Goddamn her.

Alice, black lace and I went back.

Way back.

xx

Back to the first time I ever came to her window - and her bed.

It was one of the last nights of summer before school began. I was coming out of ninth grade, Alice was going into eighth.

I tapped on her window - she opened it up.

"What are you doing, Jas," she asked with alarmed eyes.

I put my finger to my mouth. I didn't want the rest of the house to know I was there.

Her smile was glorious when she caught onto my meaning.

She let me in, asked me what was wrong.

I didn't really have an answer for that question.

I would later on as that school year progressed, and seeking refuge in Alice's bedroom became an almost nightly ritual. It was that year that the fighting began to escalate. I still don't know which was worse. The silent treatments my parents used against one another that forced me to play the mediator by default. Or the booming verbal blows below the belt that came towards the end. Either way, Alice stopped asking me what was wrong at some point.

She simply left her window ajar, and I took advantage of the invitation. More often than I should have, in retrospect.

But that first night? I wasn't there because something was wrong. I was there to gloat - in front of Edward of course.

I had just gotten back from hanging out with Tara Kirkpatrck, and it was official. I was now ahead of Edward in terms of pop flies for the summer.

But a funny thing happened along the way to Edward's window to break the good news.

I had to pass Alice's window first.

There was a dim glow coming from hers, unlike Edward's darkened room. And wasn't that fitting? Edward and Alice could have played the respective devil and angel on each of my shoulders.

I watched silently as she glided back and forth across her room, her boxers and beater clinging to her petite form. My beater in fact, one she had stolen from me years ago.

Exquisite.

That was the only word to describe her. It was the word my mother used to describe Alice as a child. She was all dark eyes and lashes and hair and grace, like a porcelain ballerina doll. But the second she started seventh grade, she went from doll to minisized bombshell in under three seconds. All those doll like qualities were now accompanied with petite curves and a sashay that put her years of ballet to good use.

I cringed away from noticing for the most part, and focused more on scaring away all the little boys that began sniffing their way around the Cullen household.

The exact way I was sniffing around her window at that very moment.

The view before me was innocent really - I watched in silence for several minutes. Alice was a absentmindedly dancing while studying her wall. She had clusters of paint swatches on it, cateogorized by complimentary shades. She was in the middle of taking a new swatch, holding it against the wall, and then grouping it with different cluster schemes.

Esme was going to pull her hair out - it looked like Alice was getting ready to repaint her room for the millionth time this year. I couldn't help but smile.

Even though an overriding sense of sadness came over me.

Alice and I were growing up, and growing apart.

Once Esme and Carlisle figured out that Edward and I had discovered girls(and all that could comes along with that discovery), Carlisle gave Edward the responsibility and ethics sex lecture. And realizing that such words would never fall from my parents' lips, I was involved in that daddy-son time as well.

Fair enough.

But what really got me were the new rules that accompanied the lecture.

No more shared sleepovers for Alice, Edward and I in either of their bedrooms. All sleepovers were limited to the living room now - which had three different entryways. And Carlisle made ample use of those entries throughout the night when I stayed over.

No more hanging out in Alice's room, unless the door was opened at all times.

And no more movie nights with the two of us on her bed. Our favorite pastime together really.

At least for me.

Our relationship was limited to public appearances from there on out. We became more formal with one another, self conscious even. That's what happens when it's implied that the two of you might rip your clothes off the minute you were alone behind closed doors.

Not that most of the rules even mattered at this point. In an effort to evade Alice's all knowing, all seeing, bullshit meter when it came to his new extracurricular activities, Edward began to include her less and less in our business.

Before I realized it, our relationship, a bond that seemed unbreakable, was reduced to greetings as we passed eachother in the hall.

As I watched her dance over to her desk for a new batch of swatches, thoughts of Tara and popflies and tallies faded way. And all that remained?

How much I missed my Alice.

She let me in without a word on my part.

When I didn't answer her about what was wrong, she put her hand to my cheek.

"You look like you lost your puppy."

Not too far off.

The first couple of minutes were awkward while we tried to get our rhythm back, just the two of us.

She was trying to pull down her beater lower, at least past her belly button. I silently wondered if I should delouse myself of Tara before sitting down on her bed.

I made a lame comment about the color swatches. She asked where I was coming back from, adding a slightly raised eyebrow when I said nowhere in particular.

Damn bullshit meter of hers.

When our first attempts at hushed conversation petered out, she excused herself and bolted out the door. She came back with a tray minutes later.

"I was about to make myself a snack anyways," she whispered with a wink.

No doubt - Alice always had the appetite of a linebacker.

But she made Peanut Butter, Honey, and Banana Sandwiches.

My favorite.

Within minutes, we reverted back to our old ways, chewing and talking and laughing with our mouths full on her bed. Breaking bread and mocking Edward were always a winning combination, and that night was no exception. She told me about mysterious egg peltings on Edward's bedroom window in the last week; no doubt a scorned Edwardian lover, she concluded.

"With a little more effort on his part, I bet my brother could land himself a boiling rabbit in a pot on the stove by next month!"

Nothing got past her, even though Edward thought he was protecting her.

She showed me mercy though, not shining that same floodlight in my direction. Instead, she picked out a DVD for us as I laid down on my side horizontally on her bed, an elbow propping my head up.

Alice slinked down in front of me in the same position.

Movie nights were officially reestablished, Cullen family rules be damned.

As the credits rolled, Alice murmurred, " I missed this, Jas."

I leaned in slightly. "I missed you."

She looked over her shoulder, her eyes locking with mine. They were full of understanding - and trust.

Trust I didn't deserve.

Because a milisecond before that precious Hallmark greeting card exchange? My eyes had been plastered on her ass, mere inches away from me. And the vague contour of a lacey black thong underneath her boxers. And the thong strings poking outside of the boxers at her hips, taunting me. My hand had been working up the nerve to place itself on her hip, while my lips were ready to press against her exposed neck.

Yes, black lace and Alice and I went way back. Not just that night, but almost every other night afterward that I came to her bed. How many pairs of black lace thongs did a girl have, I wondered at some point. Those damn straps winked out at me from her hips no matter what she was wearing - boxers, sweats, flannel pjs.

That first night she stopped me from calling her thong strap's bluff with sweet words, and trustful eyes. They shamed me into realizing what I had been this close to doing: going from Tara to Alice's bed in less than a half of an hour. Alice, who wasn't even in high school yet;who had been more than a best friend to me, more like family. The only person I'd let into my family if I had actual veto power to kick out current members and start over from scratch.

Nasty bastard. Nasty, selfish bastard.

I never got immune to her as I hoped I would with time; in fact, I let my mind wander at will many nights while we laid in bed together. But any time that black lace started getting the upper hand on me the way it did that first night?

I'd remember those beautiful dark eyes staring at me with complete confidence and trust.

Oh - and Carlisle's rifle he kept in a locked box in his bedroom closet of course.

He wasn't nicknamed "Deadeye Dick" by his skeet shooting buddies for nothing.

xx

"Jas?"

Alice was still straddling me, her hiked skirt still betraying a glimpse of lace, giving me an encouraging smile.

But I just sat there frozen.

She didn't understand all this; how for so long, wanting her had always been coupled with restraint - and guilt. How those accompaniments didn't just disappear within days, or even weeks. They lingered, and chided me for trying to take something - and someone - I didn't deserve.

Not really.

I had always been a "cram-before-the-night-of-a-test" kind of guy.

With Alice, I always imagined I would get out of college, get a great job, and a great mortgage, and then go after her. Become worthy of her. By then, she would have dated a good number of assholes - who would in turn only make me look more like a peach in comparison.

But then she came to school, and couldn't get with the program.

She actually sniffed out decent, hymen intacted guys to date. I hated watching it go down from the sidelines - and I knew that I would throw my hat into the ring prematurely. Even though I had no right to, I threw my hat in. Only because I finally realized a girl like Alice wouldn't be around years from now when I finally got my shit together. She'd be snatched up by someone who was good enough for her - now.

Lucky for me, Alice was a sentimental girl, and gave me a chance. But it only blared a light on the fact that sentimental choices always have a limited shelf life.

"Earth to Jasper," Alice whispered. But I couldn't answer, feeling like I was trespassing on private property all of the sudden.

I sat there frozen as her delicate fingers negotiated with my button and zipper.

I sat there frozen as her hands tugged my pants downward, her petite body sliding down my legs until her feet reached the car floor along with my pants. She was crouching in between my legs now, smiling up at me.

"I was just thinking. All those years of you coming to me at night, just to talk...."

She placed her hands on my knees, only her finger tips touching my skin. She began to move them slowly upward.

"Laying beside me..."

Her fingertips would drag a couple of inches up my bare thighs, then her nails would take over as they retreated backwards an inch or so.

Forward and retreat, forward and retreat. Two steps forward, one step back. Her fingers made the slowest of gains upward with each cycle - it was driving me crazy. I closed my eyes, trying to imagine Carlisle with a shotgun pointed at my popfly zone to maintain what little control I had left.

"It's just that...talking isn't enough anymore, is it...."

Her fingers finally reached the hem of my boxers, and I expected them to retreat backwards just as quickly.

They didn't.

Her fingers splayed out across each upper thigh, dipping underneath the material as they ascended further.

"Jasper..."

I could feel her thumbs extending underneath my boxers, closing in on Ground Zero. I couldn't help myself--I had to look.

Just one eye I thought. That would be managable.

It wasn't.`

Alice maintained our stare; and as her thumbs moved in on my cock, she let out a soft laugh. A soft laugh that exhaled hot breath onto the inside of my thigh. I tried to crunch my eye back closed, and go back to the "happy place" of Carlisle with a shot gun.

Too late.

"Shiiiiiiiiit," I growled out, cupping my hands over myself so that I didn't spill onto Alice's pristine fingers. She had just gotten a manicure today.

And yes, Alice had me that p-whipped.

"Well, I guess talking is enough," she added with a sigh.

It was official: Not only did I not have my crap together enough for Alice. Neither did my penis.

xx

Saturday proved to be just as excruciating. Sure, since deciding to give "us" a go, we'd gone on some dates. But more often than not, our time was spent with me taking her to and from things. To and from class. To and from band practice. To and from the library. Or the testing center. Or bass practice with that twat Laurent. Or all the luau preparations she'd been helping out with for her Kiwi friends. It made me feel more like her taxi-driving soccer mom than her boyfriend, if that was how she even saw me.

I wanted tonight to be different - special. Even if it was a textbook example for "overcompensation."

Trying to wine and dine Alice to make up for that little premature ejaculation episode in a goddamn IHOP parking lot reminded me of my father when he bought a Porsche at the height of his midlife crisis. Every time he zipped up into our driveway, I just wanted to shout out, "Sorry about your penis, Dad!"

But it wasn't all about my wounded pride - it was about wanting to actually sweep Alice off her feet.

That was easier said than done though. I had to be creative. Alice had watched on with an arched brow throughout high school as I dated countless girls. She knew all the plays in the Jasperian playbook of love.

Hell, half of my plays from the playbook came from Alice herself.

Like how you should never give chocolate or flowers on Valentine's Day.

"That's so unoriginal and boring. You have to make something from scratch," added Alice. "A card, a cake, whatever. Just as long as it comes from your own hands, that's what makes it special."

Which made sense when Alice voiced it; but not all girls were Alice.

My failed attempt at lasagna my junior year on Valentine's with some girl I hadn't dated that long resulted in a call-in for pizza takeout. And a girl looking at me expectantly throughout the evening, most likely waiting for.......some chocolate or roses.

I drove her home early in all her cross-armed, non-flower holding, silently self righteous glory.

Soon after, I hopped through Alice's window, lasagna in hand for a good laugh. But Alice attempted to ressucitate it on her bedroom floor. Like a surgeon performing brain surgery, she scalped off the top, burnt layer with steady precision--to reveal a perfectly edible lasagna underneath.

"You dumb ass, Jasper," she laughed out too loudly for a daughter with a gun owning daddy, "this is totally fine. The top just got a little crispy because you probably baked it uncovered at too high a temperature."

Leave it to Alice to salvage the good in anything that seemed ruined on the outside.

It was a bittersweet memory. Sweet as I thought of Alice throwing down a blanket and creating a makeshift picnic in the middle of her room, and praising my first(and last) culinary effort. Bitter because I had given Alice leftovers.

On Valentine's day of all days.

xx

I told her to wear something nice for our date; of course, she didn't disappoint in high heels and a strapless mini-dress. I swore she had stolen it off a Barbie doll-it was that tiny.

She was tickled that I took her to a new French restaurant that had a months long wait for reservations. Between the dress and her flawless French, she had the whole staff eating out of her hand within minutes.

Who was I kidding though - it was mostly the dress.

The chef even came out to talk to her for a couple of minutes before making her a dessert that wasn't on the menu.

Pervert.

She caught my sneer and mouthed: "You shoulda putta ring on it." It had been her motto for a couple weeks now whenever I acted like a territorial caveman. Damn Beyonce/Sasha Fierce and her two-snaps-and-a-hip-jut girl power songs.

As we headed down the highway, I asked her if some live music downtown would be a good idea.

"Hmm.....I was thinking more along the lines of pisscakes."

Before I knew it, we were parked and Alice was sliding into position.

But she threw me for a loop,after I had psyched myself out over handling black lace. A flash of white lace peered out from underneath her dress.

Of course I came even faster than the last time.

But everyone knows.

White lace trumps black - at least that's what I told her.

"Seriously, Alice, you need to buy some grandma panty briefs like Bridget Jones that ride up to your ribcage. It's not working with you in these dental flossed, lacey numbers."

Her eyebrows furrowed as she retreated to her seat. She wrapped her arms around her waist, looking outside the driver's seat window - and away from me. "Bella buys those cotton types at Walmart. She gets like 20 pairs for 3 bucks there. Which means they were made by five year old wage slaves in Thailand no doubt." She tried to laugh, but it sounded forced.

Maybe the forced laughter came from the horrid idea that Alice would have to step into a Wal-Mart for the first time in her life to indulge my request. Or maybe it was forced because she was beginning to realize I wasn't worth all the effort.

Alice was ready to call it a night soon after. We went out two more times before her next gig at Casey's the following Wednesday, but Alice didn't ask for any more pisscakes. Things felt like they were heading backwards for us, easing back into sibling territory.

Part of me welcomed it, the maytyr-riffic part that knew she deserved better and was going to figure out soon enough. But the greedy bastard part of me panicked. I needed to do something.

But why did it seem like IHOP held all the answers for Alice in terms of us moving forward in our relationship?

"Ew, I'm sorry, that's probably my fault," Bella confessed the following Wednesday, a couple hours before their set at Casey's. We were in the employee lounge together, waiting for Alice and Edward to come back from an errand. "I told her how we both bypassed the all important high school rite of passage of making out in an IHOP parking lot on a full stomach of Belgium waffles, and she was really indignant about the whole know she hates missing out on anything...."

My silence registered as confusion to Bella, and she thought she had to explain. "All those strawberries and whipped cream and carbs make for a lot of smack, crackle and pop in the backseat aftterwards."

She was such an odd girl. Especially for Edward; who up until her, was so in danger of being completely normal and predictable. Maybe that was the attraction though.

I told her that was all fine and good, but that's not how I wanted to spend my private time with Alice. Lord knows I'd given the girl enough half assed memories, I didn't want to continue the trend with backseat antics in a public parking lot.

Those antics are understandable at sixteen; but at twenty-one, it seemed unforgiveable.

Bella's eyes lit up. "Do you need me to distract Edward tonight? Give you guys some alone time in my dorm room? Do you need me to help you with anything?" Bella's mouth began rambling with all the possibilities for the night. She punched me in the shoulder to voice her approval of my foray into grand gesture land for Alice, saying Alice had been down lately. That this would be just what she needed.

Which made wonder out loud if I needed to think of something very grand in terms of gestures.

"No! No, that's not what I meant by what Alice needs. I meant grand gesture in a sweet way, not in your usual way."

I asked her what she meant by "my" way.

"You know what I mean, Jasper. You get all Richard-Gere-Pretty-Woman and shit on her all the time with your gestures." She must have noticed I took slight offense to that.

"Don't get me wrong, she loves how much you spoil her like that. But you know, sometimes you overdo it with the Princess and the Pea gestures. Even Audrey Hepburn needed a Roman Holiday from being a princess."

Odd girl - but an honest and generous girl as well. And different. Different the way Alice was different from everyone else I'd ever met. Of course that was the attraction for Edward.

"Tonight's the night you're gonna put a ring on it, Jasper!" Bella leaned closer into me with a very serious expression. "And it's about time cause girlfriend attracts hot bitches like a moth to a flame."

xx

APOV

"Huh?" That's all I had come out, as we walked into my dorm.

The only light shining in the darkened room was from flickering candles.

I dropped my purse, ready to flip on the switch. Jasper stopped me.

"Wait." That's all he said as he took my hand and guided me to my desk. It was covered with a pretty table cloth, and two covered plates sat on top. He sat down on the lone chair, and then pulled me onto his lap. I took the napkin off the plate closest to me.

Banana, peanut butter, and honey sandwiches.

"Bella made up the table and got the candles going. But I made the sandwiches earlier. You always said making it with your own hands is what makes it special."

I didn't know if I should laugh - or cry.

All week, he'd been giving mixed signals. With every "yes, I'm glad we are going forward with this" signal, there was a "I so regret this" signal that accompanied it. This was no exception. On one hand, we have candles flickering. Romantic. Yet he serves a banana, pb, and honey sandwich. The sandwich of choice in our high school years. When we were only brother and sister. If I had to re-name the sandwich, it would most likely be: "I don't want to have sex with you sandwich."

I tried to thank him, but it came out mumbled. We sat in silence, eating the sandwiches, his head occasionally resting on my back. But he offered nothing else.

"Wait, I have something for you," he quipped when I started to get off his lap. He handed me a wrapped package. He smiled sweetly as I opened it.

I looked over the wrapped bundle of "Hanes For Her" hi-cut briefs, a six pack. Cotton. In mulitple colors even. A package of fake, plastic rings were underneath for some reason. I could feel my cheeks burning. I knew he meant it as a cute gag gift, but it almost felt like he was mocking me.

"And you were wrong," he said in a tenative voice, no doubt surveying my face at that moment. "They cost me nine bucks, not three dollars. Wal-Mart is cheap, but not that cheap."

I managed an anemic laugh, even though I'd slap him if he mentioned one more thing about black lace. All the "you-are-just-so-sexy-I-can't-control-myself" declarations in the last week were the biggest red flag that something was seriously wrong. He seemed to forget that I watched on the sidelines as he dated girl after girl for years. Amazons really, all legs and boobs and big hair. I was the anithesis of his type in every way, and I couldn't help but wonder if all the lace and makeunder talk on my lingerie choices were just his way of trying to avoid what the real problem was.

I wasn't doing it for him.

"So....when is the fashion show?" Jasper's voice was barely audible behind me, the words not fitting the grave tone of his voice.

Not doing it for him was something that hadn't even occurred to me; until last week, when I pushed us further than the usual kissing. The more I tried to push the limits, the less he reacted. It was almost like he tried to cut the whole thing short by coming early. I tried to not take it personally the first time. But the second time was when he went off about how my black lace was too much for him.

Bullshit.

"God, Jasper, I'm really tired actually. Maybe another time." His face fell as I gathered up a tank top and boxers and excused myself for a minute to get ready for bed.

"Did you see the rings?" He held them up awkwardly as I brushed past him. I nodded quickly and looked away.

When I came back into the room, he stared at me with an expression I couldn't read at all.

"Do you want to watch a movie or or just call it a night," I asked, not looking at him while I spoke.

He motioned me to his side on my bed with a pat on the mattress, and asked me what was wrong. I just shook my head, my arms crossing around my waist reflexively.

"Did I do something wrong, Ali? It's just..." his voice trailed off, most likely because I could feel the tears pooling up in my eyes. I couldn't help but laugh.

"No, you haven't done anything wrong at all, Jasper. That's probably the worst part. There's no one to blame for this."

He removed his hand from my knee, asking what "this" was. The stunned look on his face made me pause for a moment - like he had no clue what I was talking about.

I looked downward, clasping my hands on my lap. " This is harder than I ever thought it would be. Being with you."

He was about to interrupt but I put my hand up. "That's how it's felt all week. Like I can't tell if you want this or not."

My words poured out more quickly once I got going. About how distant he had been with me in the car. How he didn't react at all to me. That I knew he loved me, cared for me, liked hanging out with me. But not in the way that mattered most if we were going past friendship. In the way he wanted girls before me. Girls who were taller and curvier and had beauty pageant big hair with bad highlights.

That last part got a flicker of a smile, which encouraged me.

"And ugly platform sandals, and dimestore hoop earrings, and spray-on tans...."

He snickered, but it sounded humorless. I looked up at him. His eyes didn't stray from my gaze.

"I've wanted you most of all; shit, before it was legal to want you, Alice. And I think you want me."

I snorted with indignation, but he stopped me with a raised finger.

"But only because you don't know any better. And one day you are going to realize there's more out there for you than lost boys you have to save time and again. Sooner than later, you're going to see what's out there and move on." He paused for a moment. "And I won't blame you."

If I hadn't been watching him so intently, I would have missed it. But his eyes winced, as if he was anticipating a blow.

Without thinking, I took his hand in mine, my thumbs rubbing reassuringly against his skin.

"Always saving me, Alice," he whispered, shaking his head slowly.

Ignoring him, I lifted his hand to my lips, brushing his knuckles with light kisses. He took in a deep breath as I did.

"Alice..."

His hand cupped the side of my face, making me pause.

"I know what's out there, Jasper."

He mumbled back that I didn't, but it didn't stop him from scooping in for a kiss.

Soft, gentle. Careful. As he had always treated me.

His other hand cupped the other side of my head with featherlight pressure, keeping me in place. His kisses came more rapidly now; open mouthed and urgent, focusing on my upper lip. Not urgent with lust, but with desperation.

Like we were running out of time.

It struck me - maybe he'd been looking for signs like me all week. Signs that we loved and wanted the other more. Not just looking, but seeking out any sign to fulfill our self-prophecy. I looked for signs that that I wasn't truly desired. Maybe he looked for signs that he wasn't truly loved.

I pulled away for a moment, waiting for him to look at me.

Jasper opened his eyes, and it was like falling backward in time. He looked like the same boy I'd see again and again outside my window years ago; waiting to be let in, with the same sad eyes that told me more than his words ever would. A lost boy who felt compelled to run out in the middle of the night to find refuge in my bed. It had made me feel guilty at the time; having a loving family, and a home base that was fortified like Fort Knox. But it was the very thing I could offer him when I was too young to offer anything else.

Shelter.

Something I could offer him now.

"I love you." He shook his head, resisting what I had to say still. My lips brushed against his neck before I pulled back to look at him again.

We regarded eachother for a long pause, trying to read the other's face.

As if satisfied with what he saw, he closed his eyes and leaned in, anticipating my touch.

I kissed his eyebrow softly.

"I always wanted you," he whispered back. "Always."

His grave eyes confirmed it all. Both him wanting me and his self judgement that he shouldn't.

That first part was the only thing I needed to know before I proceeded.

Things happened quickly after that.

Comforters were pulled back. Jeans were lost, along with jackets and shirts and socks. We were settled underneath my blanket now, with Jasper laying on his back, looking up at me in earnest. I was laying on my side, my arm propped up to support my head. My free hand was raking down his bare chest, my fingers documenting the freefall from the bottom of his ribcage to his bellybutton.

"Alice...." The weak protest I expected finally came out.

"Shut up," I smirked out before kissing him. My lips stayed there as my hand explored, to keep him steady. Lord knows he was overthinking every movement.

Silly rabbit.

My fingers sweeped down the side of his hip, down towards his leg; inward on his upper thigh, stopping just short of the prize. He let out a small gasp anyways.

I retreated , moving back up his hip. As my fingers fanned across his tummy, my arm brushed against his head. He contracted those lovely abs of his on contact, his eyebrows furrowing. I repeated the movement over again and again, dragging my arm along his cock each time.

"Al..ice..." My name sounded off in the form of a question, or a request. Probably both. I raised my head and glanced down on him. Jasper looked so open to me in that moment, open to me in a way I don't think he'd ever let himself before. I smoothed my hand over my lips a couple times, rubbing the excess lip gloss onto my palm.

Our eyes were fixed on one another as I reached beneath his boxers, and grabbed hold of him firmly.

I tried to keep a saged look on my face for his benefit; he was so jumpy as it was, I didn't want him to worry anymore than he was. But deep down, I felt like...Alice in effing Wonderland. As I gripped onto his shaft, it struck me that Jasper, in all his masculinity, was a study in contrasts. He felt soft; and yet underneath the smooth skin was a hardness that was intimidating. I began to glide my grasp upward along the shaft, watching him squirm when I reached his head.

Upward and Downward. Repeat.

On paper, it sounded so simple in theory. But in practice, it was one of the most intricate exchanges I ever had with Jasper. The most subtle of expressions that I'd come to learn through the years - the way he pursed his lips, or how deeply he furrowed his eyebrows - would tip me off when to slow down, or speed up, or loosen my grip, or to focus more on one spot.

I drew it out as a long as possible; but he was getting close now, his body shifting in ways that meant he was ready.

I gripped more firmly, moved up and down more rapidly, as I leaned down for a kiss. He lapped me up with his tongue, his hands gripping the back of my hand almost roughly as his whole body stiffened for a sharp second.

And then he moaned into my ear -the sweetest sound I'd ever heard.

We laid there silent for a minute, with Jasper nuzzling into my neck. I couldn't help but think how something so goofy, it's nicknamed "third base", turned into something else for us right now. As if our bodies had to show us what our minds refused to see - that we knew better.

We were solid, had been for years, and had weathered big life obstacles at ages where our biggest worry should have been to pass our driver's test.

Together.

xxxxxxx

a/n: Yes, just in case you wondered--Jasper reciprocated. But seriously, this chapter's way too long as it is....lol

a/n: Some people asked how long this story will be- I think it will be wrapped up within 10 chapters or less. Probably like, 7.