Title: The Storm Before the Calm
Disclaimer: I own nothing.
Summary: Rory and Tristan. Another way their story could have gone. Future fic, slightly AU, very M.
Reviews are appreciated.
She took a deep breath staring at the door in front of her. The door she knew so well.
She wondered, as if recovering from a daze, how she once again ended up here.
She could call it weakness. Obsession. Addiction. Or just plain stupidity.
She didn't want to call it anything.
She knocked quickly and took a step back letting out a long breath as she ran her hands through her hair, trying to bring some order to the locks blown mercilessly by the autumn New York winds.
A couple of seconds passed and she felt a sort of relief, the thought passing through her head that he might not be home and therefore this whole stumble back into idiotic sin would be prevented.
But the door swung open, her breathing immediately hitching as she saw the icy stare of cold blue eyes. There was a flash of recognition on his face and then what she identified as pure annoyance. His hair as messy as ever, his face cold and stern, his eyes slightly weary and tired, he looked... worn.
"This is not the best time, Rory" he heard him say, his voice even deeper than it usually was and she noted his effort to talk as quietly as he could.
"Oh" she said abruptly, unconsciously glancing past him to identify the reason for him blocking the doorway and talking in such a hushed tone.
She felt a pang of jealousy and anger as she took a breath, her face hardening.
"I didn't know you had company" she said, her voice cold and accusing and she felt even more angry seeing no hint of guilt or regret on his face. Instead, he stood there, as if protecting a castle from a dragon, as if last week he hadn't let her in when she knocked on the very same door, as if he hadn't whispered profanities into her ear as they made love, eager and rough and unappeasable.
Her whole body was raging, as if she'd been slapped in the face and she willed herself to turn her back and walk away just as she heard the footsteps from inside the apartment.
"Who's that, Tristan?" she heard the voice, recognizing it immediately as Tristan winced, groaning as if caught stealing candy.
Rory's eyes widened as she felt adrenaline surge though her veins, her mind desperately looking for an escape route. But it was too late.
The graceful form she associated with that voice appeared behind Tristan, the eyes of the woman sparkling with recognition and joy.
"Rory!" the woman exclaimed and then looked at Tristan who was now staring through the hall at the door opposite of his apartment, perhaps wishing he could be the lucky bastard living there and not the one caught in this situation.
"Elisabeth..." Rory breathed out, cursing herself for bringing this whole awkward scene upon herself "... hello"
She caught Tristan's accusing stare and she glanced from his cold eyes to the woman's warm ones and back, silently begging for forgiveness.
"I didn't know you two were seeing each other again!" the woman exclaimed, her voice thick with joy as she grabbed Rory by the arm and pulled her into the apartment, despite Rory's resistance.
"We are not seeing each other, mother" she heard Tristan's cold voice as he shut the door frustrated and turned towards the other two, his annoyance plastered on his face.
Elisabeth ignored him completely, too caught up in examining Rory, who stood there self-aware and very uncomfortable under the intense gaze of both DuGrays.
"Look at you, you look so beautiful! How have you been child? Your grandmother can't stop talking about you" Elisabeth exclaimed as she brushed a stray lock away from Rory's face.
Rory smiled politely, feeling Tristan's death glare pierce the back of her head.
"Tristan, why hadn't you told me you two were dating again? Oh my god, this is such great news, he's been miserable without you, you know" she went on.
"Mother" Tristan's determined voice silenced her and chilled the room in an instance. Rory felt her body shudder, hearing that tone and it certainly had an effect on Elisabeth DuGray, who looked at his son for a long second, before taking her cue and turning to grab her purse.
"Well, I guess I should go and let you two talk" she sighed, planting a kiss on an unaccepting Tristan as she walked past him to exit the silent apartment.
Rory sighed relieved and turned to look at Tristan, who was still staring at her, with eyes cold and beaming.
"I am so sorry, I didn't know she was here" she apologized, her voice small.
He sighed and started walking inside the apartment, brushing past her annoyed.
"What did you come here for Rory?" he asked, and the coldness in his voice surprised her.
She opened her mouth, but words seemed to fail her, suddenly feeling exposed and stupid.
She watched as he walked towards the kitchen, taking a bottle of water out of the fridge, his movements angry, violent even.
She glanced at the door as if silently weighing her options then sighed again, trying once again to apologize.
"I'm sorry, I should have called before"
He took a sip of water, not taking his eyes off of her, and she couldn't hold the intense gaze, suddenly feeling self conscious.
"Did you come here to fuck?" he said, his voice low and she gasped, her eyes darting up to meet his.
He held her gaze, placing the bottle on the table and walking out of the kitchen towards the bedroom.
She stood there taken aback, watching as he slipped the thin blue sweater over his head, his bare back coming into view.
She felt insulted, her blood boiling over.
She walked after him, her breathing quickening, ready to yell at him, but suddenly all reasoning was out the door as she saw him unbuckle his pants and push them down his legs. She stared at him shocked.
"I..." she started, but couldn't find the words, the whole situation felt so absurd.
He looked at her, his gaze challenging.
"You what?" he asked, his eyebrow darting up, his face still angry "You came here for a good fuck, so let's do that, Rory"
She shook her head bewildered.
"You are an asshole" she murmured but her feet didn't seem to move from her spot.
As if he realized her hesitation, his lips curled up in the slightest of smirks and he pushed his boxers down as well, his erect penis exposed.
Rory gasped slightly staring at his throbbing member and she wondered for a second when, during their brief talk did he become fully turned on. Her breathing became faster and she noted annoyed her own arousal, liquid pooling between her legs.
"I..." she started again, her voice frustrated, desperately trying to find the right words to describe her shock, her disgust... her weird sense of arousal.
She watched as he took a step towards his nightstand, pulling out a drawer and taking a condom out, opening the package with surprisingly calm fingers.
She huffed in anger knowing that this gesture was just another little touch to provoke her. During their years together, they never once used a condom.
She watched as he rolled it onto himself and moved onto the bed, on his knees, lifting his gaze to look at her once again, totally confident and calm.
"Come here" he commanded, his voice thick and husky.
She huffed, not moving.
"Don't fuck with me, Rory, come here" he repeated, his tone warning, putting emphasis on the words.
She felt her legs move involuntarily and she gasped as he grabbed her hand as soon as she came into reach.
He threw her onto the bed and immediately pulled her skirt up, lifting her slightly to be able to pull her panties down.
She lay there helpless, the happenings of the last few minutes still not completely registering in her head.
He moved over her, his weight pushing down on her and she let out a little cry as she felt him push inside her without any hesitation. Her eyes fluttered shut and she heard herself moan, her hands grasping his strong arms as she felt him fill her up completely.
He became still for a second and she opened her eyes to see his, full of concentration, as if he were formulating a game plan. She looked at him questioning but had no chance to express her doubts as she felt him pull out of her and thrust back into her firmly, eliciting another loud moan from her.
"Fuck" he cursed barely audible as he started a steady rhythm making her lose all conscious thought.
She felt her body dissolve into the smooth sheets of his bed, his scent filling her nostrils as his toned body moved above her, his hips grinding into hers, her legs involuntarily parting wider and wider to be able to let him in as deep as possible. With every thrust he seemed to go deeper, faster, more violent, her whole body vibrating with electricity. She felt her juices pool at her center, making his movements easier with every thrust and she could tell he felt her incredible wetness too, because he cursed thrust for thrust, the words becoming like a weird, arousing mantra intertwined with her moans.
She felt her
breathing hitch and her eyes shut tight as she felt her edge
approaching, her hands digging into his arms as she felt her whole
body lift and then go stiff, the waves of her orgasm washing over her
and making her whole body contract wildly under him for long seconds.
She let out a muffled cry that only mildly resembled his name as she
convulsed beneath him, his strong arms holding her still.
She gasped for air as her body relaxed against his bed, the sweet feeling of satisfaction reaching every single part of her body.
She opened her eyes slowly and looked into his with a shock as she saw him motionless above her, his cock still throbbing and rock hard inside of her. His whole body seemed to shake with the slightest of tremors and sweat was forming on his face, his eyes full of restrain and concentration.
She stared at him as realization dawned on her... he had not let go.
She gasped as she felt him slip out of her and she stared at him bewildered as she saw him take a deep breath as if trying to calm himself.
And with that he got up from the bed, discarding the condom that had not even fully fulfilled its use, picking up his boxers and pulling them on as he walked out of the room.
She scoffed unbelieving, her body still not completely collected. She sat up in the bed and didn't know weather to scream or laugh at him. Instead she got up, not bothering to find her panties and dashed out after him.
She found him at the kitchen table sipping water from the same bottle he left there earlier, his eyes scanning the paper spread on the table.
"What the hell was that?" she shot, feeling her face heat up with anger.
He looked up nonchalant, then let his gaze fall back onto the paper.
"Me fucking you" he replied "Isn't that what you came here for?"
His voice was calm and cold and it pissed her off to no end.
"You are such a child" she screamed "what the hell does that prove?" she shot at him.
He looked up, his gaze even more cold and hostile.
"Not a damn thing" he replied and it was all she could do not to slap him.
She turned around and walked towards the door, her anger and hurt carrying her like a current of wind, her limbs still feeling oddly light from the pleasure she just experienced. She tore the door open and stormed out not bothering to shut it behind her.