Title: A Perfect Gentleman
Author: emiime
Characters: Frank/Alice
Rating: R
Warnings: None
Kinks chosen: Courtship
Word Count: 1524
Summary: Frank is determined to be a perfect gentleman. Alice makes that difficult. Oh, and Gideon meets a peculiar girl at a pub.

At the end of their first official date, though his heart threatened to pound right out of his chest and his hands were shaking, Frank Longbottom asked Alice Cambell if he might kiss her.

Alice laughed that clear laugh that was one of the reasons he fell for her, and she leaned forward and pressed her mouth to his. Frank inhaled sharply and froze and his eyes fluttered closed. It was maybe the best kiss of his life.

Frank was never really certain how he made it home that night. He only knew that—not ten minutes after Alice kissed him—he collapsed upon his sofa, wanking himself furiously, happy beyond belief that his flatmate was out.

Next time—and Frank had high hopes that there would be a next time—he would be certain to wank before the date so he didn't end up so frantic afterwards.

"Fuck—Alice," he groaned as he shuddered and came all over his hand. He lay there panting for quite some time, his trousers around his thighs and a mess in his hand, thinking of Alice and her pretty white teeth that showed when she laughed, and her pink cheeks, and the smooth black wing of her hair.

He had just begun to drift back to reality—the reality of his bachelor flat and the sticky come cooling on his hand—when there came a thump at the door, followed by a high-pitched giggle.

Frank cast a quick cleansing spell, doing a piss-poor job of it in his haste, and stuffed himself back into his pants. He was just zipping up when the door opened and there stood Gideon in the doorway, pissed out of his mind, by the look of things.

The source of the earlier giggle turned out to be a blonde, thin yet broad-shouldered and also rather inebriated, with her arm about Gideon's waist. It took Frank a moment to realise that what she was wearing was intended to be a dress. To him, it looked like the naughty lingerie in the magazines that Gideon kept on the toilet tank.

Frank wiped his hands on the arse of his trousers and nodded at the blonde, then shot a quizzical look at Gideon. Gideon grinned a wavery grin and introduced the blonde as Maureen.

"Marian," she corrected.

Gideon shrugged. "It was loud in the pub," he said by way of explanation, and he put an arm around Marian as if that made everything all right.

Which—apparently—it did, for Marian giggled again (rather throatily this time, Frank thought) as Gideon steered her towards his bedroom.

Frank checked the clock. Half past midnight. Early for Gideon—Marian must be a marvel of a girl, he decided. He went into his own room and cast a silencing spell at the paper-thin wall that separated his room from Gideon's. Even if Gideon didn't have to get up in the morning, Frank did, and he didn't need to be kept awake until all hours by sex noises.

Besides—he had Alice to think of as he drifted off to sleep. Lovely Alice. His Alice.

---

When Frank returned home from his Auror training session, he found Gideon, stubble-faced and dressing gown-clad, at the kitchen table with a plate of toast and a cup of tea, both untouched.

"Good night?" Frank asked, putting the kettle on.

He received only a moan in reply.

"Spill it," Frank commanded.

Gideon rubbed a palm over his face and sprawled in his chair. "All that trouble," he groaned, "All that bloody trouble just to find out that Maureen—"

"Marian," Frank corrected.

Gideon made a dismissive gesture with his hand. "Whatever. Marian, Maureen. Maureen, Marian. Apparently her real name's something along the lines of Marcellus."

Frank's eyes went wide just as the kettle started to whistle. "You're joking."

"Fuck, mate, wish I was. You should've seen his prick—bigger than mine. Hairy as fuckall, too." Gideon shuddered at the memory, and Frank tried his hardest not to laugh.

And failed.

"Oh, it's all right for you," Gideon said with a snort, "I'm fairly fucking certain Alice Cambell's all woman, yeah?"

"I didn't get that far," Frank replied, "I was a perfect gentleman."

Gideon snorted a laugh at this. "Maybe Alice doesn't want a perfect gentleman."

Frank shrugged. "We'll see," was all he said.

He refrained from commenting upon Gideon's taste in gentlemen.

---

By the middle of their third date, Frank had decided he was going to marry Alice. And quite possibly have lots and lots of babies with her.

It was actually the thought about the multitudes of Frank Juniors that triggered the idea of marriage. Frank had never once in his life even considered having children, a fact that greatly distressed his mother. And now here he was, sitting in a darkened Muggle cinema next to the prettiest girl in the world, his palms sweating as he thought about spending the rest of his life with her.

And he became so distracted by thoughts of love and marriage and babies and how exactly he and Alice would go about making all those babies that he missed the entire second half of the film they'd decided to see. He hoped that Alice wouldn't want to discuss the film. Frank wasn't very good at improvisational lying.

But Alice, to Frank's great relief, pronounced the film "a load of shite" and laughed her perfect laugh, and Frank breathed a little easier.

"That's not to say that I didn't enjoy myself," she said, her tone apologetic. "I did. Very much. I've never been to a Muggle cinema before."

Frank grinned as she slipped her hand into his as easily as if it were something they had been doing for decades. "Neither have I, until tonight," he confessed.

"I suppose we've taken each other's cinema virginity, then," said Alice, and she clapped her free hand over her mouth the instant the last word slipped out.

Frank laughed despite their mutual embarrassment, and Alice did, then, too, and they walked together to Alice's flat, where they shared a succession of goodnight kisses at the door.

---

Frank masturbated twice that night. He couldn't stop thinking about Alice and dark Muggle cinemas and virginity. He damned his resolution to be a perfect gentleman. Fuck, but he wanted Alice.

---

Their entire tenth date happened within the four walls of Alice's bedroom.

Frank hadn't meant for that to happen, but he arrived early and Alice was running late, and she met him at the door of her flat wearing nothing but a dressing gown, her hair wet and shining. She laughed at their bad timing and bade him come in, though he protested. He wasn't going to be able to keep up the perfect gentleman status he so very badly wanted to keep if he had to be alone in the flat with Alice and she was wearing nothing but a leaf-green dressing gown that clung to her hips and her breasts and left little to the imagination.

"Oh, just come in," said Alice, tugging on his shirtsleeve. "I'll only be a minute or twelve. You can wait on the sofa. You can play some records."

Frank conceded, and he rifled through Alice's record collection as she hummed to herself in the bedroom as she dressed, the door open a maddening few inches. He decided on a Hobgoblins album, and when the music started, Alice's humming turned to singing. Frank thought that he had never heard a lovelier voice.

Then again, maybe he was a bit biased.

And when Alice opened the bedroom door all the way and stood there in jeans and a tight white t-shirt with a big red set of lips and a tongue sticking out emblazoned on the front.

"What—" Frank managed before his throat went dry.

"What?" asked Alice.

"What—is that?" Frank gestured to Alice's shirt. Fuck—he was starting to get hard. And he'd even wanked just an hour ago.

"Oh, that." Alice ran her hand over the logo, looking down at herself. "It's a Muggle band," she explained. "They're not half-bad. I have a few of their records if you want to—"

But Alice never got to finish her sentence, for Frank had staggered across the room and pressed a crushing kiss to her lips, holding her tightly.

"I've tried so hard, Alice," he said against her lips between kisses. "So bloody hard. I've tried to be a perfect gentleman, and then you have to go and wear that, and I can't stand it anymore."

Alice pulled away only a fraction of an inch, blinking.

"My god, Frank," she said, "If I'd had any idea what one little shirt could do, I'd've worn it in front of you ages ago!"

And they dragged each other to the bed, discarding clothing—including that damnable t-shirt—along the way.

---

Thirty-two minutes later, Frank and Alice lay tangled, bare skin against bare skin, panting and flushed and satiated.

Frank kissed Alice's collarbone and wondered how many more dates he would have to wait before he could ask her to marry him.