Summary: She stares at the phone, her head propped up on her hand as she sits on the edge of the coffee table, the caller id flashing the same information over and over and over with every new ring. Lit oneshot.
Disclaimer: I don't own them, go away.
A/N: Random. Seriously. I opened Microsoft Word and this is what happened when I started typing. Let me know what you think.
The door slams shut behind him and she nearly bites through her lip when she feels the consequential vibrations of the wall beneath her palms. She shivers from the chilly, rain-drenched air that's drifting into the room through the crack in the window and she lets out a sigh as she leans her forehead against the plaster and closes her eyes.
"Cold hands!" she shrieked. She batted ineffectually at his wandering fingers and let out a breathy moan when he trailed his thumb up the inside of her thigh.
"So make them warm again," he smiled and pressed his mouth against hers, tongue lazily sweeping against the skin on the inside of her bottom lip. She sighed and slid her hands into his hair, forgoing her complaints in favor of more pleasurable responses to his attention.
The cordless phone that's lying at her feet rings quietly, the speaker long-dead from too much usage over the past three years. She sniffles and wipes her tears away angrily, crouching down and lifting the piece of plastic as she stands back up.
"Your hooker's calling again!"
"Yes, because I am the sex-crazed one in this relationship," he retorted. She laughed brightly and dropped the phone on the floor when he crawled onto the couch and up her body, placing kisses all along her skin as he went.
"Not exactly disproving my point," she teased in a husky whisper. He groaned against her neck when she pressed her hips against his and laughed low in his ear.
"Hey, you've reached Rory and Je-"
A loud beep fills the quietus, followed by a sharp click and another quiet beep as the person hangs up and the machine turns off.
She stares at the phone, her head propped up on her hand as she sits on the edge of the coffee table, the caller id flashing the same information over and over and over with every new ring. The machine picks up and the person calling hangs up during various points of the message, eventually hanging up after only two rings.
But they keep calling back, and she knows she should probably answer it.
She let out a groan and dropped her purse on the floor, followed by the stack of papers in her arms, and started ranting about her day as she hung up her jacket and flung her shoes off, almost grinning at the resounding thumps they made as they hit the floor.
Her attention diverted itself from her day when she noticed him asleep on the couch, book propped open on his chest, hand hanging lifelessly off the edge of the ivory suede. She smiled softly to herself and wandered further into the apartment, giggling softly when he mumbled in his sleep.
"Jess," she whispered, standing over him. He mumbled again and adjusted his position on the cushions slightly, his book sliding off of his chest and landing in between his body and the back of the couch. "Jess," she tried again, sinking down to her knees and pushing stray curls off his forehead.
He cracked an eye open and she grinned at him. "Hi."
"Hey," he returned groggily. "When did you get home?"
"Few minutes ago," she smiled. "You feel okay?"
"Yeah," he nodded and brushed the sleep from his eyes. "Must've drifted off."
Beep. Click. Beep. She sighs and her thumb hovers over the 'talk' button on the phone, blue eyes riveted to the caller id in exasperation. Sadness. Anger.
The phone rings again and she clicks it on, pressing the black plastic to her ear and biting her lip to keep silent.
She nods to herself and glances at the clock, noting with a grimace that it's past midnight already. They've been playing this game for a solid two hours now and she just wants to go to sleep.
Jess groaned and tossed the pillow back at her, ignoring her protests as he lay back on the floor. Not a second later she was straddling him, her small hands tangling in his t-shirt as she bent down and kissed him.
"Will you stop being emo now?"
"I'm not," he rolled his eyes and tucked her hair behind her ears, cradling her face in his hands as he stared up at her.
"Really? Because I think," she kissed his mouth chastely, "Mr. Mariano," she kissed his nose, "That you have an exceptional emo face," she grinned and kissed his forehead.
"I think you're crazy," he retorted. Rory snickered.
"You wouldn't have it any other way."
He sighs on the other end of the line and she has to strain to hear it through the too-low volume of the phone. She idly thinks they need to replace it. It's taken one too many beatings since they bought it three years ago, on sale at the local Best Buy.
"Come on, Ror, can we stop this now? I don't even remember what we were fighting about," he says seriously.
She blinks when she realizes that she doesn't, either, and she idly tugs at a string on the shirt she's wearing. His shirt. She bites her lip and swallows thickly.
Jess walked swiftly down the hallway of their apartment, leaning nonchalantly against the wall. She impatiently blew her bangs out of her face with a loud huff and he grinned a little. Rory pouted and he adopted a slower gait as he made his way across the room to her, avoiding the random piles of laundry she'd made all over their new carpeting.
"Our clothes are trying to strangle me," she declared solemnly. Jess stuck his bottom lip out in a faux-pout and she bit back a grin at the expression. He sank down to his knees and crawled over the pile of laundry in front of her to press a kiss against her mouth.
"So leave 'em."
"We can't walk around naked, Jess, and I'm running out of clean clothes."
"I see no issue with walking around naked."
She smacked him with one of her sweaters and he chuckled lightly. "In public, Jess."
"Oh," he frowned, "Well I don't want to share your nakedness with other people."
"Good," she grinned and kissed him quickly, "Now help me sort."
"Ror," he sighs heavily and she can hear him drumming his fingers against the side of the payphone. At least, she assumes he's at a pay phone. He takes a breath to continue and she cuts him off swiftly, voice cracking a little from the pressure.
She wrapped her arms around his waist from behind and looked over his shoulder at the shelf of books in front of them.
"Book number two," she grinned and kissed his shoulder softly. Jess threaded his fingers through hers and pulled her around in front of him, lowering his mouth to hers over and over as she leaned back against the shelf.
"All thanks to you," he agreed, breathing a little capricious. Rory nodded and laughed against his mouth when he started kissing her again.
The carpet scratches her back and she winces, adjusting for the thirtieth time in just as many minutes. Her eyes stray to the clock above the couch again and she frowns mightily.
It's impossibly quiet in the apartment and she's more than a little worried at this point.
City traffic. City traffic. City traffic.
For some reason she can't make herself believe that it's the only reason he isn't home yet.
Jess sighed against her stomach and pressed a teasing kiss just next to her belly button, reveling in the airy giggle she let out as he crawled back up her body in their brand new bed.
"I love you," he said huskily. Rory bit her lip and smiled up at him as she trailed her index finger down his nose.
"I love you, too."
"Where the hell are you?" she answers the phone in irritation. There is a pause on the other end of the line and she sucks in a sharp breath.
"Speaking," she says softly, a feeling of dread settling low in her stomach.
"I'm calling to inform you that your husband was in an accident…"
Rory sucks in another breath and desperately tries to keep the tears out of her eyes as she sits up on the living room floor, frantically trying to focus on the caller id. It's a joke, it has to be. That's the only explanation.
"…critical condition. Chances he'll make it are fairly slim…"
The speaker cuts out when the phone slams against the wall and she feels like she can't breathe when she grabs her keys and runs out the door.
But the next call comes through despite the shattered pieces of plastic that are scattered all over the floor and she doesn't hear the answering machine pick up as she jumps in her car and heads to the hospital.
"Hey, you guys! It's Lane; just calling to wish you a happy anniversary. Hope everything's good. Call me and we'll get together some time this week. The band's playing up in New York in a few days; maybe we can work something out. You know the number."