Hey! Just a one-shot about how I think the first kiss went. JPOV. Extra-fluffy with a healthy helping of CHEESE on the side. Rated for safety, no smut. Read and Review!!! Per usual, I don't own Twilight or any of the characters contained therein.

We'd been together for a month and 17 days. One month and seventeen days since I walked into that diner and found everything in the world waiting for me. In that time, we'd grown comfortable with each other. There's not much else to do to pass long sleepless nights than talk. But there was one thing that threw us into an awkward silence and caused many uncomfortable pauses. The inevitable first kiss hung like an elephant in the room. She'd seen it happening, and I knew it was going to happen as well. I just didn't know when. But I knew I wanted it.

One night, she was sitting on the floor, legs crossed under her. Her eyes were shut, her muscles tense, and her notepad and pencil sat at the ready on her lap. Suddenly, her expression would change, and the pencil would dance across the paper—then stop, as abruptly as it had started. She sighed, squeezing her eyes tighter, all sorts of disappointment and frustration flooding off her. "Nothing," she'd whisper to herself as she opened her eyes. I watched in silence as she tried desperately to will a vision of our future family into existence. She hadn't seen anything of them in nearly three weeks, and I knew she was getting frustrated. She wanted nothing more than to find them. I wanted to find them, too, but she'd been searching for so much longer. To suddenly reach a dead end was hard for her. I watched as she placed her head in her tiny hands, rubbing her temples. I tried to send her some calm.

"Please, don't," she said, not looking up. I obliged. Then she'd try again, muscles tensing, eyes unfocusing, eventually closing. Every time she tried to force it on herself, I could feel discomfort, almost pain, coming from her. It was killing me to watch her do this to herself. The pencil started the chaotic sketching of nothing in particular, just shapeless forms and frenzied designs…the mess of confusion poor Alice saw.

"Alice?" I called softly. She started shaking, ever so slightly. "Alice, stop," I ordered, a little more harshly than I wanted. Her eyes flew open, and she hurled the notepad and pencil across the room. Her building frustration culminated in an explosion of sheer anger, something I hadn't felt from her before.

"They're not there! Why can't I see them?" she almost yelled.

"Give it a rest, Alice. Don't try and force them to show up. Just rest for a while."

"Why?" she asked, anger building in her voice as she stood. "So that I can sleep for a while? That isn't happening, Jasper," she spat as she turned her back to me. I didn't move and my expression didn't change. I felt as her anger was immediately drowned by regret, shame, sorrow. She paced slowly across the room further from me, her shoulders slumped and again put her head in her hands. A jagged sigh escaped her lips. "I'm sorry, Jasper," she whispered. A tearless sob wracked her small white shoulders as she rubbed her temples again. "I shouldn't take this out on you. It's not your fault. I just don't know why I can't see them." Her feelings plummeted downward…regret, hurt, disappointment, all of them directed at herself. No one should feel those things towards Alice. I certainly didn't. Nothing she could ever say or do to me would convince me to leave her; nothing could alter my opinion of her. I wanted to tell her, but couldn't find the words. Slowly, I rose from my seat on the bed and walked behind her. I wanted to reach out and hold her, but wasn't sure if that was…proper, acceptable. She'd hugged me once, on the first day, and in my surprise I hadn't reciprocated the gesture. That unrequited embrace had been haunting me ever since, and I wondered how she would react if I were try and hug her back this time. Instead, I placed my hands gently on her shoulders and kneaded them slowly, willing small amounts of peace and calm through my fingertips.

"It's okay, Alice," I murmured. Her skin felt warm, smooth and flawless beneath my hands. The thin straps of the nightgown she wore left that beautiful skin exposed, and all night I'd been wanting to touch her. When I touched her, all good things--warmth, happiness, security, peace--flowed from her emotional core into mine. I was addicted to it, to Alice's feelings. They were always good, always in stark contrast to the hatred, chaos, fear and pain that were my only companions for 80 some odd years.

The emotions coming from her now were the sweetest I'd felt from her yet. It was a delicious mix of sadness giving way to content, anxiety melting into anticipation, sorrow into appreciation. I leaned down towards her, inhaling deeply her intoxicating smell. She smelled sweeter to me than any blood or any other vampire ever had, and I had smelled quite a bit of both. As I felt the majority of her sadness melting away and being replaced with the lust I'd tried to ignore for a month and a half, I slowly, carefully, moved my hands down her sides, to her waist and pulled her closer to me. She sighed, contentedly, and I wanted to do everything to make her as happy and comfortable as possible. Nothing else mattered-- just Alice. I recalled that feeling she had for me, the one whose name I couldn't place. She'd had it constantly, from the moment we met. It infiltrated every part of her through everything we did. She felt it while watching me hunt, when we would go shopping, when we watched the sunrise from inside our hotel rooms, and especially when I would smile. It was the most warming, complete emotion I'd ever felt, and as I remembered how it felt coming from her, I tried to distribute it back to her.

It must have worked. She tipped her head back, resting it on my chest. I wrapped my arms possessively around her from her behind, pulling her as close to me as she'd come. I wanted to kiss her. Badly. It'd been nearly two months (for me, 28 years for her) in the making, and I knew (as I knew she knew) that it was now; this was it. Her muscles tensed and relaxed again, the vision only taking about a second and a half. She turned in my arms, and reached her delicate hands up to my scarred face. I wanted to say something. I wanted to tell her that she was everything to me. That no matter where she went, what she did, what she said, what she saw, I would never ever leave her. That I was sorry for my horrendous past and I would make it up to her in every way possible. That I needed her close to me, forever, that she was now the air I breathed and the very reason for my existence. That anything she wanted, I would go to the ends of the earth and back to get for her. That I would die for her, and even more, that I would live this new life for her. That two months ago I'd been searching for a way to die and now, because of her, I couldn't wait to live, truly live, for the first time in 83 years…all because of her. I wanted to tell her…that I loved her. Love. That was the emotion, the feeling that was radiating so strongly between us I couldn't tell if it was hers or mine. Ours.

Luckily, I didn't need to say anything. Her eyes told me she knew, and better, she felt the same way. Her hands slowly snaked into my hair, and as I stroked her neck I bent down, breaching the difference of height between us. She paused for a moment, her golden eyes boring with love into my own, then closed them, and our lips met.

Her lips were soft and perfect against mine. I let out a breath I hadn't realized I was holding, and pulled her deeper into me. The kiss was soft, slow and sweet. I knew it was her first, and the thought that I was the first one to do this made it that much sweeter. Electricity charged between us, heightening every sensation. I could feel in her every emotion that had never been mine, everything good. Her love, trust, excitement, lust burned and poured into me. I wanted to go further. I wanted to taste her mouth, her skin…suddenly, her shoulders tensed beneath my hands and she pulled ever so slightly back. Her eyes were still closed, and she smiled as she opened them. My manners said no, but my body and her emotions said yes. I smiled back at her, and closed the gap between us, quicker this time, with more passion. I moaned into her, as she whispered my name against my lips. That undid me. I grazed my tongue across her bottom lip and thankfully, she parted her mouth, allowing me in. Now it was her turn to moan as our tongues danced, darted and explored. She was so good, everything about her: her taste, her feelings. I wanted to feel her hands in my hair again. A second after a familiar tensing of muscles, her hands snaked their way into my curls.
As if it couldn't get any better, she knew exactly what I wanted. She was using her ability to see what would garner the best reaction out of me. That little minx. Two could play at this game.
I sent a thrill of lust and passion through her, and she moaned loudly against my lips. I had to pull away and chuckle.

"Oh my god, Jasper," she said huskily, moving to my mouth again. "Jasper," she moaned as I did it again. Before I'd even completed the thought that this would be easier if we weren't standing, she was pushing me towards the bed. I was growing harder and more aroused every minute, and her foreseeing exactly what I wanted wasn't helping the swelling in my pants.

"Alice," I moaned, as she straddled on top of me, laying my head against the pillows. As much as I wanted to, I would not do this tonight. I couldn't. I couldn't give her the first kiss and the first time together on the same night. I wouldn't. She deserved better. Alice's eyes unfocused, and then she looked back down at me and sighed.

"Well, if you won't let me go all the way, I'm going to go as far as I can," she told me with a mischievous grin. She moved her mouth expertly from my mouth, to my jaw, to my ear, trailing soft, sensual kisses down my neck. I sighed her name over and over again, like a prayer that would get me closer to heaven, closer to her. I breathed in her scent, smelling her own arousal. Maybe we could. Maybe we could do this tonight. Maybe I—

And the next moment, I was across the room, crouched defensively, teeth bared. Alice stared, eyes wide in fear and confusion.

"Jasper?" she called, hurt from the sudden rejection inching itself through her. Her teeth had barely grazed the skin of my throat, and instinctively I had turned on her. I wasn't ready for that…not yet. For me, the feeling of teeth against my throat and the pain that came with that were still too near. I turned my face from her, lowering myself into a sitting position against the wall. How was I going to tell her? I'm sorry, Alice, I was just reminded of my horrendous past that I'm still not okay with, and on that note, you deserve someone, anyone, better than me? Realization tore through her then.
"Oh, Jasper, I'm so sorry. I didn't mean…" her voice trailed off. The next moment she was kneeling in front of me, hands reaching slowly for my downturned chin. "Jasper, look at me," she ordered softly. I couldn't resist her. I turned my eyes towards hers. She smiled, shaking her head softly. "Some couple we are. Neither one of us can do anything right," she said, love and humor lacing her voice. I smiled too, remembering how she'd been in the exact same position just minutes earlier. I uncrossed my arms for her.

"At least we can be wrong together," I told her. Her smile widened as she crawled into my lap, curling herself into me. Her head rested perfectly where my neck and shoulder met, and as I breathed in deeply her enthralling fragrance, I released subtle waves of calm and love to both of us. I kissed her temple and she closed her eyes with a happy sigh. We didn't move for the rest of the night.

Hope you enjoyed! Be sure to check out any stories by Struck Upon a Star...her Alice/Jasper fics are definitely worth a read! Review please!