Title: The Art of Seduction
Disclaimer: Characters of Gilmore Girls do not belong to me nor do the song lyrics 'I Don't Know' by Starsailor.
Timeline: Set during the summer after the Season 1 finale.
Summary: Rory afraid of sabotaging her relationship with Dean with her lack of knowledge seeks Tristan's help in developing her sexual education. What was meant to be something simple, develops into something so much more. A TRORY story.
Author's Note: Also a quick yet mass thank you to all those fabulous reviews. I love them and love you all for doing so. I would also like to add that this will not be a military school fic. That being said, I'll get right to it. It's been a long time coming. Enjoy!
The Art of Seduction
Chapter 9: Too little, too late
Woke up reeling
Lost all feeling
Heart on the floor
My eyes to the ceiling
I don't know what love is
I don't know what love is
I don't know what love is
But I think I had it ...
¸.•¨) ¸.•¨) ¸.•¨
Rory Gilmore stared absent-mindedly into the dresser mirror before her, her blue eyes carefully watching as she slowly brushed her silky brown hair in long steady strokes. Dean was coming back home today. He was due to arrive back in Stars Hallow in less than an hour. Thus she was busy getting herself ready in order to greet him properly like a girlfriend who hadn't seen her loving, trusting boyfriend in over two long summer months.
A loving, trusting boyfriend she had proceeded to cheat on out of a misguided and stupid idea in preparing to please him. To keep him with her.
Instead all it had done was left her with a broken hearted boy and a sick gut wrenching realization that she was responsible for it.
She placed the hairbrush back down on the dresser and closed her eyes painfully in remembrance of Tristan's hurtful parting the night before. How could she have been so blind?
He had been so sweet to her. So gentle and patient with her as they journeyed through each lesson together. Made her feel so wanted and desired. Taught her things that she never even knew were possible.
To Dean she was a porcelain doll, only to be treated with the most delicate of touches. To Tristan she had been made to feel like a sexy desirable woman that no man could possibly keep his hands off, wanting to explore every inch of her whole.
But more importantly they had become friends. She had been privileged enough to see whole other side of Tristan DuGray that she doubted many had bore witness too. A beautiful, funny, smart, extremely witty guy that never failed to keep her on her toes.
A guy that had opened up to her and she had opened up to in return.
A guy that she had come to care for deeply.
A guy that had fallen in love with her.
She opened her eyes slowly; the baby blues reflecting sadly back at her. She hadn't been naïve to believe that she could escape through her arrangement with Tristan unscathed. But she had been naïve enough to believe that Tristan would.
And now she had lost it all.
He never wanted anything to do with her again.
Choking back the sudden sob threatening to overcome her she shook her head vigorously attempting to rid her mind of her thoughts. She had made her choice without really seeing, looking at the world through her rose colored glasses.
Picking up the small pink tube, she shakily drew the strawberry gloss across her dry lips. Dean, the boy who had been the core root of the whole problem in the first place was coming back soon. And he loved her. He had been nothing but caring and kind to her from day one. She needed to concentrate on that. Concentrate on him.
Smacking her lips together, she gave herself one final check over, smoothing out the non-existent wrinkles out of her light pink shirt. Good. Everything looked in place. She painted on a bright smile, hoping that the fact it didn't reach her eyes was hidden deep, while her small right hand blindly reached for the bracelet Dean had made her.
Her breath caught in her throat and her heart stopped.
Swallowing hard, her eyes closing painfully shut again, she allowed herself to shed a single salty tear, letting it rest in the corner of her lip as her fingers gently rubbed the dried out petals of the yellow sunflower Tristan had presented her with.
Taking a large gulp of air, she hastily wiped away the tear before letting the smile reform across her face as she snatched the bracelet from its place on the dresser.
Sparing one last glance at the wilting faded sunflower remaining on her dresser, she slipped on the simple homemade bracelet around her small left wrist before heading out through her bedroom door.
She had made her bed.
It was only fitting she lie in it.
Dean Forrester sat in the backseat of his parents' rusty blue sedan, his left leg jiggling up and down in anticipation of seeing his girlfriend again. The past two months had taken its toll on their renewed relationship, given the separation they had endured prior to his leaving. It was more than more evident in their short and distant phone calls while he was in Chicago. But he was back now. And he couldn't wait to hold her in his arms again and just be with her.
As the car pulled around the corner onto their street, he couldn't stop the uncontrollable grin forming across his face as he took in the sight of Rory Gilmore looking more beautiful than ever, sitting on the front steps of his house. Clara's shouts of excitement at seeing home, the radio playing his mother's favorite golden oldies, his father's tired yawn, it all fell into the background as his brown eyes greedily feasted on the sight before him.
Rory stood up slowly as Dean's family car pulled to a stop in front of his home, dusting off the imaginary dirt clinging to her denim shorts. Almost instantly the back car door opened and two long lankly legs hit the pavement, and if only for a split second, it was a guy slightly shorter and blonde spiky hair before it morphed quickly into the form of her boyfriend in Dean.
She blinked at the momentary vision before quickly smiling at Dean, speaking quietly. "Hey."
There he stood, looking gorgeous as ever, his shaggy brown hair falling over his head in a neat mess, his brown soulful eyes drinking in her form like a man starving of thirst. He grinned back at her warmly, his deep voice encompassing her name softly, "Hey, Rory."
She smiled back shyly at him, her foot scuffing the cement of the porch step, before he suddenly made his way over towards her in four long strides, his lanky arms enveloping her in a tight hug.
And it was broad arms that were hugging her not lean, a defined muscled chest pressing against her not flat, a musky addictive scent not cheap cologne as she relaxed into his body, her arms winding around his neck.
But just as quickly, the illusion shattered again. Struggling to conceal her bewilderment at what was going on, her body was unable to stop from stiffening slightly at the switch into reality. Dean, the gentle soul he was, holding her tightly didn't notice as he bent down to whisper into the shell of her ear. "God, I missed you."
Unraveling herself from his strong grip, she managed to pull away slightly, suppressing the urge to gasp as intense azure eyes transformed into plain chocolate ones gazing into her own. Heart pounding she struggled to not let her confusion and anxiety show as she leaned up on her tiptoes and placed a gentle kiss against his cheek. "I missed you too."
And the relief that swam through her as the strong truth behind the words made itself own was overwhelming. She had missed him.
"Alright you two! Break it up." Mr. Forrester called out loudly, carrying a large suitcase past them towards the front door. "At least unpack the car first, Dean."
They both pulled away blushing, but Dean quickly grasped her hand in his own, refusing to part with her so quickly and she was left uneasy at how her calmly her body responded to his touch. No sparks. No pleasurable tingling sensation. No butterflies. Nothing. It's because of the time apart. She rationalized to herself, letting Dean entwine their fingers together.
Mrs. Forrester walked by with Clara who was hiding shyly between her legs. "It's good to see you, Rory."
Rory nodded back, unable to speak, her cheeks red with embarrassment while Dean chuckled good naturedly at her flustered reaction. "Come on. You can help. The sooner we finish, the sooner we can have some time alone."
Pulling away he moved back to the car, while Rory followed slowly, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear, allowing herself a small smile at the warm family scene that had just transpired.
She had missed him.
Rory Gilmore sat quietly in the wooden desk chair placed in Dean's small bedroom, watching him as he handed his father his unpacked suitcase to be put away in the basement of their house. He let out a small sigh of relief, closing the door behind him, making sure the lock was in place.
He sent her a large smile, before striding over towards her, taking her hands, lifting her out of the chair so that they were standing toe to toe, barely an inch between them. "What?" she asked, his smile so infectious, she couldn't stop her own from forming.
He just shook his head in amusement. "I've been back over an hour and I still can't believe I haven't kissed you."
The smile faltered on Rory's face, if only for a moment but stifling any unease she had, she allowed Dean to cup her face with his bony fingers and bring his dry lips to her own in a soft easy kiss.
Fighting the urge to pull away, she sought to remember everything Tristan had taught her as she quickly plunged her tongue into his open mouth, desperately trying to recreate the passion Tristan was able to invoke in her, in Dean himself.
Except that it was proving to be futile.
Dean pulled away gasping for breath, staring at her amazed. "Whhoaa. Slow down, okay? We don't have to rush anything."
Rory nodded, chewing her lip nervously as Dean maneuvered them to sit upon his small single bed. He was right. She was rushing it. She just needed to let things progress slowly, naturally.
Exhaling quietly, he sent her an unsure smile before his cool hands encompassed her waist, lowering her gently onto the slightly uncomfortable mattress of the bed. He awkwardly covered her petite body with his own tall lanky frame, as she attempted to move around so that they both fit on the tiny bed.
Her elbow shifted hard into his gut, while his knee banged hard into her thigh, both groaning at the sensations before attempting to shift into a more comfortable position. After several minutes, both slightly breathless, they finally settled into a uneasy comprise, where Rory nestled underneath his body, her arms wrapped around his neck, his legs falling to the side of her own, propped up high on his forearms, leaving his feet hanging off the bed.
Breathing heavily, Dean gave her a shaky grin, his body holding her firm, pressing her hard into the mattress before placing a wet kiss against her sweet lips as her body remained still, his mouth moving down her cheek to her throat. Her blue eyes stared dazedly at the cracked cream ceiling above as he continued to slobber on her neck, his hands clumsily stumbling across the planes of her body.
She closed her eyes desperately trying to feel something, anything resembling passion and desire as Dean crawled up her lithe unmoving body.
"Rory, I love you," Dean whispered lovingly into her ear.
Rory instantly froze in his arms as Tristan's deep baritone voice filled her ears, invaded her blood, blinded her eyes and whisked her away.
Rory, I'm in love with you
Rory, I'm in love with you
Rory, I'm in love with you
And without her knowing she was pushing Dean away, scrambling up from the small single bed as the salty tears filled her doe blue eyes, blurring her vision as they threatened to spill onto her pale cheeks.
Dean watched Rory, taken aback at her response sitting up quickly, "Rory, what is it? What's wrong?"
Rory just stood silently, shaking her head vigorously in the negative, as the tears continued to build quickly.
Dean taking in her upset demeanor, not sure how to proceed, sought to comfort her as he tentatively stood up, making his way towards her to take her in his arms. "Rory, if you're not ready … we don't have to …" his voiced trailed off.
Rory let out a loose hysterical giggle before succumbing further into her despair. God if that was only it.
If it were only that simple.
She lifted her head to look at Dean, her bright blue eyes glazed with unshed tears, stepping back quickly as his arms moved to encircle her, before whispering hoarsely, "I'm so sorry, Dean."
It was time to come clean.
Dean just looked at her confused. She had nothing to be sorry for. Yeah he was a normal hormonal teenage guy but he was willing to wait. He loved her.
She took a deep breath, attempting to steady herself before murmuring quietly, "I'm in love with someone else."
Dean stepped back as if he were punched hard in the gut, as he felt his heart sinking, his mind in a tailspin as he managed to choke out, "What?"
Rory searched his warm brown eyes desperately as she moved closer to him, fraught to ease his pain as she spoke her voice shaky from trying to control all the emotions swirling through her. "God, I'm so sorry Dean. I … I never meant for this to happen."
Dean just stared at her stunned, his brain frantically trying to function through the unexpected blow. A million questions raced through his mind as he tried to latch onto a coherent thought.
He shook his head hard in the negative attempting to clear his mind of the bombarding thoughts. What was happening? He didn't understand what was happening. She said she loved him. He distinctly remembered her saying those words when they had gotten back together. So what was going on? He leaves for the summer, his beautiful girlfriend waiting patiently for him back in Stars Hallow or so he thought, because instead he comes home to find her in love with someone else. Not in love with him.
Rory closed her eyes painfully, letting a few teardrops escape and splash to the floor, her nerves distinctly frazzled. She had never wanted to hurt him. He didn't deserve this. He meant so much to her. He was her first boyfriend. Her first kiss. Her first date. So many firsts. But she didn't love him. She had been so desperate not to lose him when he came to Chilton that day, she had to her shame had uttered anything to get him back. Anything. And was willing to do practically anything to keep him with her. She knew that now.
Because Tristan …
Tristan had come along.
And he had shown her so much.
Given her so much.
And she knew now, maybe too late, but she knew.
She knew what love was.
And Tristan, he was hers.
She opened her eyes to meet Dean's pained brown ones as he awaited her answer. She owed him the truth. It was the least she owed, given everything that had happened this summer.
"Tristan," she uttered ever so softly, her strawberry glossed lips encasing the name sadly.
Dean's head snapped back as if he had been slapped across the face before meeting Rory's distraught blue eyes, stunned. Who? The accountant? The pretty rich playboy? He knew she had spent most of her summer in Hartford. But when? How?
But then his mind tauntingly reminded him of the scene of that last day of school in Chilton, as he found them standing together, the asshole holding her books. He had always known that prick was after her and seeing them that day, standing so close together, he had automatically assumed they were together. But then Rory had run up to him, chased after him, and professed her love for him.
She said she loved him.
But again his mind taunted back at him as he acknowledged that she had never repeated the words again. God he was such a fool. He couldn't keep the anger from leaking out in his voice as he attempted to speak calmly, "Tell me Rory … did you ever love me?"
Rory hiccupped loudly, choking back the sobs threatening to render her speechless. She did love him. Just not the way he wanted. She struggled to find the words to explain but found she could not do so, her silence shattering any remaining semblance of hope Dean had. He had gotten his answer.
Dean put up his hand halting her as she moved to speak. He didn't want to know anymore. "Don't. I don't … just … just leave." He finished bitterly, letting the intense pain, anger and betrayal swim through his veins and fill him whole.
Rory stared at him for a long moment taking in his hurt and furious demeanor, the pain suffocating her, as the sobs finally overtook her trembling form, before eventually fleeing out the door.
End Author's Note: Everyone, •do a little dance• The Bagboy is gone. Never to return. Well at least in this story. As much as I dislike Narco, I always thought S1 Dean was a pretty good guy and I hope I conveyed that here. But yes, more importantly Rory has realized something … something vital … oh yeah … She LOVES Tristan. Will she be able to get him back?
Let me know your thoughts in a nice lovely review which is better than a naked Tristan DuGray … seriously ;) --Amira