Something new. I'm not sure how much I like it so I really need some feedback on this story. I pretty much know where it's going so I'm planning to continue it. Rory is a little out of character but it was necessary for the plot line. So I hope you enjoy it!
Disclaimer: I do not own Gilmore Girls (obviously).
Chapter One: Take It Away
She twirled quickly in front of the mirror, her skirt flipping up slightly. She smiled at herself, pulling her hair over her shoulders and sweeping her newly cut bangs out of her eyes.
"You look beautiful, babe."
Rory turned to smile at her mother in gratitude. "You don't think it's too plain?"
Lorelai shook her head slowly. "Perfect for an end of summer party."
Rory turned back toward the mirror and nodded. She smoothed the wrinkles on her simple white tank top and straightened out her skirt. It was her absolute favorite skirt. It was green, hit mid-thigh and had a border resembling some type of flower cut into the bottom, showing just a little more leg than she normally would. She'd run a flat iron through her hair and let it hang loose. Fitting enough for the last summer escape, she thought.
"Where is this party again?" Lorelai asked and Rory turned to her as she slipped her feet into her light flip flops.
"Louise's house," she said, grabbing her bag from the desk chair.
Lorelai nodded. "And you're staying there?"
Rory shrugged. "If it gets too late. Otherwise I'll just come home. Can I take the jeep?"
"Sure. Try to be back around noon tomorrow though okay?"
Rory nodded again, leaning up to give her mother a kiss on the cheek. "I'll see you in the morning, mom."
"Have fun, sweetie." She smiled and Rory nodded, moving towards the front door. "Rory?"
She looked over her shoulder expectantly and Lorelai sighed. "Just," she paused. "Just be careful okay?"
Rory nodded slowly in understanding. "Kay. Bye, mom." And with that she was out the door, closing it carefully behind her and taking the stairs quickly. She pulled herself into the jeep and started it, mentally preparing herself for what she was sure this evening would bring.
Louise's house was nothing short of spectacular. It was huge, bigger than almost any home in Hartford. Except maybe one, she thought, shutting off the car and stepping out. She made her way up the stone drive and opened the door, letting herself in.
The second she stepped inside the door she was bombarded with music and an already very tipsy Louise. "Rory!" She squealed, doing her best to reach the girl without falling over. She reached her arms out and let herself fall against Rory, wrapping her arms around the other girl's neck. "You're here!"
Rory laughed. "I wouldn't have missed it." She shook her head. "How much have you had to drink tonight, Louise?"
Louise took an unsteady step back and frowned in confusion, attempting to count. After a few failed attempts to do the math on her fingers and she shook her head and grinned. "Not enough!" She exclaimed and Rory raised her eyebrows. "He's been looking for you," she slurred excitedly.
Rory sighed, rolling her eyes slightly. "Why am I not surprised," she mumbled under her breath and Louise hiccuped.
"He looks really good tonight."
Rory shook her head, the hint of a smile on her face. When did he ever not? She let out a deep breath and wandered away from Louise, in search of a drink. She made her way into the kitchen and poured herself a mixture of something she wasn't quite sure of. Taking a sip she closed her eyes as the burn of alcohol made it's way down her throat. If this night was going to end up the way she assumed it was she was definitely going to need this. And maybe even a couple more.
"I see you've found the good stuff."
Rory turned at the familiar voice and smiled as Madeline reached for the few bottles beside her, pouring herself another drink. Rory nodded.
"I think I'll need it tonight."
Madeline chuckled. "He's outside, if you were wondering."
Rory shrugged, an attempt to remain nonchalant. "I wasn't."
"You were," Madeline argued. "And if I were you I'd find him before he finds you. We really don't want another scene like the last one."
She sighed as Madeline gave her a pointed look before making her way back into the other room. Rory leaned back against the counter. She should go and find him, she knew. And it wasn't that she didn't want to see him. God, she always wanted to see him. But he wasn't something she really wanted to deal with tonight. She was tiring of the way that they were. She knew exactly what would happen when she found him. He would be frustrated. He was always frustrated when he was drinking. He would tell her how amazing she looked. Probably comment on her skirt. It would go the way it always did. And she wouldn't stop him. She wouldn't tell him that she just wanted to take him home tonight and let him sleep it off. She never did. And she never would. Because in truth, she needed the lies just as badly as he did.
So she pushed herself off the counter and made her way to the back door. She pushed through the sliding doors to the patio and made her way out into the yard. It took her a few moments to spot him in the crowd. But he was there. He was leaning against a tree in the middle of the yard, surrounded by a few select others. He was always surrounded by someone at these stupid parties; he was forever their king.
She made her way over to him slowly, fighting the urge to quicken her pace. He glanced up at her as she got closer and raised his beer bottle to her, as if it was a welcoming gesture. She hated the way he did that. It was cocky. When she reached the group she stood a few people away from him. Mostly just to frustrate him. To make him feel the way he made her feel with his beer bottle raise. It was always that way with them, always a game, a competition. It always had been. He pushed himself off of the tree and locked his eyes on her. She looked up, feeling his gaze burning a hole through her. He announced that he needed another drink, never taking his eyes off of her. Some guy next to him reached out to slap his hand before he slipped away from the group.
Rory let him walk a few steps before moving away as well. She caught up to him when he sat down on the stone steps leading up the house.
"I thought you needed a drink."
He glanced up at her and smirked. It made her heart fall into her stomach. His smirk always made her crazy. And he knew it. That's why he did it. "Guess I changed my mind," he said with a shrug of his shoulders. She nodded slightly and he patted the spot next to him. She sighed audibly but lowered herself to sit next to him.
"I didn't think you'd show up," he commented and she shrugged. She could hear the frustration in his voice. He didn't like to be kept waiting. Which was exactly why she was late. She heard him groan lightly under his breath, but she didn't look at him. Because that's what he wanted her to do. Instead she kept her eyes forward.
"Why are you even here, Tristan?" He looked over at her, surprised and she turned to meet his eyes. "I mean really," she paused, not being able to push the words out. They sat in silence for a few moments before she threw her hands up in exasperation. "Never mind."
Tristan let his shoulders rise and fall slowly. "I missed you," he mumbled. It was so soft that she wasn't even sure that she'd heard him correctly and her heart did that falling thing again but she shook her head.
"No. You didn't."
He let his tongue run over his lips but he didn't argue. It never did any good for him to argue with her. It just made her mad. So he sat next to her silently. Because he didn't want her to leave. He needed her. He needed to feel the way that he felt when he was next to her. He didn't know any other way to feel that. And he couldn't let himself let go of that feeling. Maybe that was selfish. But he didn't really care. He looked over at her, letting his eyes wander over her body, taking her in.
She looked over, catching his eyes as they explored her. "Like what you see?" she asked, sarcasm lacing her tone.
He nodded. "More than you know," he said. His voice was low and scratchy and it made her turn her own eyes towards him. He was looking her in the eyes now, and she could feel the need radiating off of him. She took this opportunity to take him in. He was wearing jeans that hung loose on his hips and a white long sleeved button up with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows. The top few buttons were undone and she could see the gray of his undershirt.
She bit her bottom lip and he let out a frustrated growl. She smiled lightly and looked back up at his eyes. "Let's go inside?" It came out more like a question than she'd meant it to and he smirked again, sending chills down her spine.
"Yeah," he confirmed, pulling her up as he finished the rest of beer in one long pull. He set the bottle on the step, leaving it there and she followed him inside.
The second they stepped through the door Summer was pressing herself against him. Rory bit back the urge to reach out and pull him away from her.
"Tristan," she cooed and he glanced down at her quickly. "I've been looking all over for you." When he said nothing she pressed herself closer to him. "Do you want to get a drink?"
He shook his head lightly. "No thanks," he said and she frowned.
"Oh come on," she pushed. "I'll make your night sooo much better when we get into the kitchen," she offered and he smiled lightly but shook his head.
"No." He repeated and Summer rolled her eyes.
"Fine," she said, leaning up to talk into his ear. "Come find me when you get bored."
He nodded once. That was Tristan, always keeping his options open. Rory rolled her eyes, frustrated with the scene. She would never readily admit to Tristan that she was jealous but she was sure he could tell. In all honesty she was a little surprised he didn't go off with Summer. Normally he would've been all over her, if for nothing else, to make Rory crazy.
Once she'd walked away Tristan turned to face Rory. He put a hand on the small of her back and pulled her flush against him, leaning in to press his lips to her ear. "Dance with me."
She shivered at the feel of his warm breath against her skin and pulled back slightly to look at him, surprised. He never did things like that in public. Not that everyone didn't know anyway. But it was like an unspoken rule that they wouldn't draw in any public attention. But his eyes weren't leaving hers and she never could say no to him. So she nodded slowly and let him take her hand and lead her to the dance floor.
He pulled her against him again and let his hips move against hers. Her arms reached up to wind around his neck and pull him closer. He met her eyes then and she held his gaze. "Have I told you that you look amazing?" He asked and she smiled, shaking her head.
He nodded. "Well you do." He let his hands wander down to the lowest part of her hips and tuck his thumbs underneath the waistband of her skirt. She let out a breath and he smirked. "Amazing," he repeated.
She moved her hands to the collar of his shirt, holding onto it tightly. He watched her as her eyes wandered over his chest, her hand following close behind, tracing the outline of his stomach muscles before finally sliding back up and playing with the hair at the nape of his neck.
He sighed, letting his eyes fall closed as she touched him. "You know you're driving me crazy."
She nodded. "Call it payback," she mumbled and he let out a dark laugh. She could feel it vibrate within his chest and looked up as he pressed his forehead against hers. "Tristan." It was almost a warning.
She sighed. "What are you doing?" He opened his eyes to meet her own and saw the confusion in them. He let his tongue run over his lips and she watched him, waiting for an answer.
"Dancing with you." He said it like it happened all the time, like they always danced like this, like everyone wasn't watching them and wondering what had changed.
She let out a frustrated groan and he raised an eyebrow at her. "You don't like it?" He asked, his tone implying that he knew just how much she was enjoying it.
She bit her bottom lip. "I don't understand."
He shrugged, knowing exactly what she meant. "I just wanted to dance," he said. "It's no big deal, Mary."
She looked away from him then and the song slowed to an end. She pulled herself away from him and he watched her stand in front of him awkwardly. "I'm gonna go get a drink," she mumbled and he looked at her accusingly, a dark chuckle coming from his throat.
"Yeah," he said. "Okay."
She averted his gaze, not able to look at him. She backed away for a few steps before turning and making her way into the kitchen. What the hell just happened? They didn't do things like that. They didn't dance at parties. He didn't turn down a perfectly willing Summer to dance with her. They didn't make whatever the hell they were any type of a show. But tonight, for some reason, he was breaking all of the rules. And he had the nerve to get frustrated when she called him on it. She let out a frustrated groan and reached for the the bottle in front of her, pouring another drink.
"What the hell was that?"
She turned to see a very shocked and very drunk Louise being held up by a slightly less drunk Madeline. Rory merely shrugged her shoulders.
"A dance," she offered and Louise scoffed.
"That was a hell of a lot more than a dance!" She slurred. "You were basically having sex out there!"
Rory coughed, choking slightly on her drink. "We were just dancing."
Madeline smiled from under Louise's arm. "If that was just dancing I want to know what that boy does when he really wants to turn you on."
Rory felt the blush creep up into her cheeks and she shook her head. "I don't know what you're talking about," she mumbled and Madeline just rolled her eyes and dragged Louise back into the other room.
She stayed in the kitchen for a while, sipping her drink slowly. After a few minutes she felt a presence behind her, unmoving, not speaking. Tristan. She turned to face him and saw the frustration in his eyes.
He took a step forward, taking the cup out of her hand and setting it on the counter behind her, pushing her back against it. He pulled her hair away from her neck and leaned down, letting his lips graze the skin softly before nipping at it with his teeth. She let out a low moan as he placed hot, wet kissed against the skin there. "Tristan," she breathed his name and he pushed his hips against hers. "What are you doing?"
He moved up to kiss under her ear. "There's nobody else in here Mary," he mumbled. "Just let me have my fun."
She groaned but tipped her head to the side to give him better access as he let his teeth graze over her earlobe softly. "We should stop," she mumbled.
He chuckled against her skin and she moved her hands over him, sliding them under his shirt and over the skin there, making him groan and press himself against her again.
"Tristan," she tried again, reluctantly pulling her hands out from underneath his shirt. This seemed to get his attention and he pulled back slightly to listen to her. "Could we," she started, pausing, her voice desperate.
He nodded quickly. "Come with me," he mumbled, taking her hand. She hid her surprise as he laced his fingers with hers and led her outside. He pulled his keys out of his pocket, fumbling slightly.
She smiled at his stumbling and he glared up at her. "Something funny?"
She nodded slowly as he unlocked her door, allowing her to slip into the passenger seat. She leaned back against the leather of the seat as he started the engine, putting the car into gear. He drove quickly. She closed her eyes, knowing the road they were taking by memory. She reached over and put a hand on his leg, rubbing her thumb across the fabric of his jeans. She heard him let out a low groan and she could almost see him tighten his hands on the wheel. "What's the matter? Can't handle yourself?" she teased and he reached his own hand over to put it on her bare thigh, uncovered because her skirt didn't quite reach that far. He ran his thumb in patterns against her skin.
Her eyes still closed, she let her tongue run out and over her bottom lip before biting down on it. She let her own hand make a fist around the material of his jeans.
He pulled his hand back suddenly as her eyes opened to glance down at the flushed skin of her thigh. He looked over at her quickly, raising an eyebrow. "What's the matter, Gilmore? Can't handle yourself?"
She let out a breathy laugh and pulled her hand back. "Point made."
He nodded, stopping the car and shutting off the engine. He opened the door and she followed suit, getting out of the car and following him up the walk to the front door. She looked up at the towering building in front of her and shook her head. No matter how many times she saw it his house never ceased to amaze her with it's enormity.
She followed him into the house. He dropped his keys on the table in the foyer and made his way quickly up the stairs. He held his hand back for Rory, not turning around. She glanced down and shook her head before taking it and allowing him to lead her up the stairs. He just wouldn't stop surprising her tonight.
He opened his bedroom door and pulled her inside after him, letting it close behind her before he pushed her up against it. He led his hands wander over her body, down her sides and over her hips, bunching the material of her skirt in his fists, tugging at it slightly. He looked up at her and she locked her eyes on his own. He pressed his forehead against hers. "Mmm," he hummed lightly and she reached up, letting her arms circle his back. Her hands ran up and down his spine, finally finding their way under his shirt. He took a short breath and let his head fall onto her shoulder as her hands moved around to the front of his shirt.
"God, Mary," he mumbled, his lips now against the exposed skin of her shoulder. She let her hands fall down to the waist of his jeans, resting on his belt and he moved forward, pressing himself hard against her.
She moved to undo his belt but he reached down, catching her hands and bringing them up above her head, holding them there. "Tristan," she started. He could hear the confusion in her voice and he shook his head.
"Slow," he murmured and she watched him, nodding once and allowing him to move her from the door. He picked her up and she wrapped her legs around his waist as he carried her over to the bed, letting her fall into his pillows as he climbed over her. He moved his lips to her neck and she sighed. He let his mouth travel from her neck to her earlobe and down to the exposed skin at the top of her chest. She moaned as his hand traveled up her sides and rested against the side her breast. She bucked against him and he moved his other hand to her hips, holding her against the bed.
"Tristan," she tried again but he shook his head, grinning at her. She reached her hands up and ran them through his hair, a move she knew drove him crazy. He let out a groan and moved to kiss her neck again as her hands traveled to the buttons of his shirt, undoing them slowly.
He allowed her to pull the shirt over his shoulders and throw it off the side of the bed. His hands went to the bottom of her tank top and he ran his hand under it and over her stomach, pausing at her breasts as he used his other hand to pull it off of her and it joined his on the floor.
He moved down to let his mouth explore the newly exposed skin on her stomach as her hands went back to his hair. He moved up kissing a trail from her navel to the top of her chest, nipping at her breasts through the fabric of her bra. He reached around to unclasp her bra and she let him slip it off of her.
His hands and his mouth explored the new skin as she pulled his undershirt off, lifting his face to press her lips against his for the first time all night. He moaned from somewhere in the back of his throat at the sensation of her lips finally against his. The feeling of his moan moved through her entire body as she reached down for his jeans again. This time he allowed her to undo his belt and slip them off of him. He was down to his boxers and she wore only her skirt, which he was adamant about leaving on. He lifted her skirt slightly, just enough to pull her underwear down and toss them on the growing pile of clothing, his boxers following quickly. She pulled him closer to her and he reached to the drawer beside the bed.
A few seconds later they both let out a moan as he entered her, gaining a rhythm. She let her hands wrap around his back and he let out a low growl as he quickened the pace, losing all of his control. She let her fingers move up into his hair and that drove him completely over the edge. As he moaned her name she began her own free fall.
He let his body fall against hers as he rest his head against her chest. She took a few slow deep breaths, attempting to collect herself as he rolled off of her. He kissed her forehead before moving to the bathroom.
He came out a few seconds later to find her underneath the blankets of his bed. Her skirt was on the floor and his shirt was wrapped around her.
"What was that?" She asked, raising her eyebrows at him and he shrugged, smirking.
"Something new?" He offered and she nodded slowly.
"Definitely new," she agreed, still confused and he sighed, running his fingers through his disheveled hair.
"It was," he paused. "I don't really know what it was," he admitted and she looked away from him in surprise.
"Okay," she said. They stayed in silence for a little quite as he pulled his boxers back on and moved to sit next to her on the bed. "What's going on with you tonight, Tristan?"
He looked away, avoiding her gaze. "Nothing." She raised her eyebrows at him. "Don't worry about it, Rory."
She sighed. "Whatever," she said. "You don't want to talk about it, fine. That's what I'm here for anyway right? Fucking you so we don't have to talk about it?"
He looked back at her then, his eyes were cold again. That rarely happened with her anymore. She wasn't used to the cold.
Tristan scoffed, nodding. "Yeah," he said. "You're right." His tone was patronizing and she gaped at him.
"You're kidding me." He looked over at her and raised both eyebrows. "You're honestly going to be mad about this!?"
"No!" He hollered, throwing his arms up in the air. "I'm just," he stopped, shaking his head and moving to hit his open hand against the wall. "Don't you ever," He shook his head again frustrated. "Forget it."
She sat in silence for a few minutes, watching him. He didn't move, just stood there, upset and confused and vulnerable. He was rarely vulnerable when she was with him, and it was never like this. He never wanted to go slow or to hold her hand or to dance with her.
"Tristan," she whispered but he didn't look at her. She stood up, his shirt falling down to the tops of her legs and she walked over to him, reaching an arm out to place her hand against his stomach. He looked down at her hand but still didn't speak, or look at her. "What's going on?"
He shook his head and moved to sit on the bed. She followed, sitting next to him. "I'm just tired of it," he said.
She looked up at him, confused. "I don't understand."
He sighed and shrugged. "It's nothing, okay?" He stopped and she scoffed. "Rory, come on. I'm just," he ran a hand through his hair. "I'm having a bad night. That's all."
She nodded. "Yeah, okay." She stood and moved to pick up her clothes but he reached out to stop her. She looked at him expectantly.
"Could you," he paused as if contemplating whether or not he should even ask her. He sighed. "Could you just stay here tonight?" She raised her eyebrows at him in surprise and he shrugged. "Look I can take you back to your car in the morning okay? I just, I don't really want to drive back to Louise's tonight."
She nodded slowly. "Okay," she agreed and he nodded back at her, moving himself underneath the blankets and holding the opposite side open for her. She bit her lip lightly before moving under the covers with him.
She lay silently, looking up at the ceiling. She'd never spent the night with him before. It was always the same. They'd come back here for a couple hours after a party, he'd drive her back to her car and depending on how late it was she would go home or crash at Madeline or Louise's. This, this was different. She wasn't even sure how this was supposed to go.
She had her eyes closed now. "Hmm?"
He didn't say anything for a while and she assumed he'd changed his mind. She rolled over onto her side, away from him and she felt him roll over as well. "Thank you," she thought she heard him mumble. She took a deep breath and felt her heart drop. This was confusing. This wasn't supposed to happen. They were supposed to be there for each others' whims and when they needed a release or just a night to forget everything. They weren't supposed to spend the night together. They weren't supposed to hold hands and dance in public.
Rory rolled back onto her back and let out a deep sigh. Tristan rolled over, facing her, already asleep. He one hand under his head and let his other arm drape itself across her waist. She held back the urge to move closer to him. He was doing this in sleep. It wasn't the same as what happened earlier. It had nothing to do with that.
She took a deep breath, closing her eyes again and willing sleep to come. Slowly she felt herself drift off.
Tristan awoke the next morning to the feel of another body pressed against his own. He opened his eyes to see that sometime in the middle of the night Rory had curled up against him. He moved his arm away from her, careful not to wake her and moved out of the bed and into the bathroom. He started the shower and stepped in, letting the hot water drown out everything that happened last night. He wasn't thinking straight. He couldn't just change the rules on her. She had every right to be confused and he'd acted like a complete pansy. He'd asked her to sleep over. What the hell was that? He shook his head, water droplets falling from his hair and into his eyes.
He stepped out of the shower and wrapped a towel around his waist. Shaking the water from his hair. He pulled his clothes on and looked at himself in the mirror briefly. "Nothing's changed." He muttered to himself. He was still Tristan Dugrey. She was still Rory Gilmore. Nothing had changed last night. He was drunk. He was frustrated. It didn't mean anything.
He took a breath before walking back into his bedroom. He found Rory, pulling her hair back into a ponytail, fully clothed once again, the shirt she'd slept in draped over the chair beside his desk. He looked up meeting his eyes.
"So, last night," she started.
He smirked and she shook her head. "Nothing short of mind blowing," he commented and she felt herself blush.
"No complaints here," she agreed and he nodded, raising an eyebrow at her. They stood there in silence for a while before she shook her head at him and he grinned. "I should get home."
He nodded. "Right. I'll drive you to Louise's."
She followed him down the stairs and back out the door to his car. She got in, sinking into the leather of his seats again. They drove the first few minutes in silence before she looked over to him. "Tristan," she started.
"This is awkward." He stated. "I know."
She nodded as he reached over her and into the glove compartment for his cigarettes. She jumped slightly when he grazed over her leg. "Don't worry," he said. "I'm not going to do anything ungentlemanly this morning." He smirked over at her as he lit his cigarette.
She laughed, rolling her eyes. "Unless you want me to," he added. "I'm always up for doing unspeakable things to you."
Rory chuckled and shook her head. "Always the same Tristan," she mumbled and he shrugged, taking a drag from his cigarette.
He pulled up to Louise's house and put the car in park, turning to face Rory. "I'll see you Monday," he said, leaning over to pull her closer to him. He pressed his lips against hers, kissing her hard. He let his tongue sweep into her mouth and kissed her lips one last time before pulling back. "Unless you decide you need to," he glanced over her once before smirking, "take your mind off of anything."
She rolled her eyes, still a little flushed from the kiss. "Bye, Tristan."
He smiled. "Bye, Mary."
She got out of the car and he watched her walk over to her jeep, making sure she got in and started it before he pulled away.
She sat in the driver's seat of the jeep, mulling over Tristan's attitude this morning. She sighed, maybe she was freaked out for nothing last night. Nothing had changed.
Tristan drove the road home slower than he normally would. Even if he didn't want to admit it, last night was so different than any other night with any other girl. Even than any other night with Rory. He took another drag of his cigarette. Something was changing, whether it was good or bad he wasn't sure. But it was definitely changing. Maybe it had to. Maybe he even wanted it to. He didn't know. But this was definitely the calm before the storm, that he was sure of.