Sore Winners | By : Darkly Category: G through L > Gilmore Girls Views: 22716 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0 |
Disclaimer: I do not own The Gilmore Girls, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story. |
AUTHOR: Raven
dark
SUMMARY: This fic
was written in response to the Trory Summer Fic Exchange, Read
Below for request:
rating of your requested fic: R/NC17
Things to include:
1. The words "hose you down"Things not to include:
1. The Country Club
2. Sappy Tristan
3. no OoC supporting cast please.
DISCLAIMERS: This
story is based on the characters from the TV show “Gilmore girls” that
belongs to Warner Brothers, not me and is not meant as an infringement on their
copyright of the series.
RATING: R?
Sore Winners
“Alright…” Tristan sighed pulling
back frustrated. He had been back for
three weeks now and things were moving much too slowly for his taste. He looked across the car at the indignant
face of Rory Gilmore. She had a bit of
an angry pout, something he’d have to take care fast before it escalated to a
full blown bitch session. The only
problem though was that he was finding it hard to concentrate with Rory sitting
across from him shirtless and bare-breasted.
“You do realize we’ve already had sex right?” Tristan ran his hand
through the sweaty mess that was his hair, doing his best to tear his eyes away
from her beautiful heaving chest blasted
summer heat, “I mean, you’re not planning on pulling the I want to wait until we’re married before we
do it again bit are you?”
Even as the words came out of his
mouth he could already hear himself thinking, nope, not enough blood in the right head… Stupid man…
Rory shrank back embarrassed,
insulted, and more importantly, acutely self-conscious of her nakedness. She reached over for her shirt with squinted
eyes, “and if I did?”
“Well,” He couldn’t stop himself
from smiling, it was too easy, “then I’d have to find
me a girl of less discriminating convictions that’s all…”
“Oh!” Rory slapped the hand that
was reaching for her away, at once picking up the pace in which she threw her
shirt over her head.
In Tristan’s opinion, he had been
more than patient; he couldn’t easily remember another girl whom he had showed
that kind of self restraint for in the past.
He came close to saying so, but luckily came to his senses before he
opened his mouth. There was no way on
earth that saying something like that would progress his relationship with the
innocent Chiltonite in any way that would be seemed
productive in his mind.
What bugged him most though was
that it seemed pretty obvious to him that the same sexual rage that threatened
to take over when he was near her resided in her too. He was not blind to the look in her eyes
right before they kissed, the lust-filled hunger in her lips or the tell-tale
scent in her breath that told him she wanted more than just a little peck in
the cheek when things began to get hot and heavy. He remembered their first time vividly, she
certainly knew what she had wanted then, maybe a little too much… their first
time has been… could that be what she was
afraid of? Another
night like the first?
“Ror--” Tristan
tried to laugh off his last comment but his eyes met up with the very angry,
frozen look on Rory’s and decided to not push it, “…why don’t I take you home?”
“Why don’t you do that?” her face
was an angry, if not adorable scowl.
“Right” Tristan nodded
straightening out his shirt before starting the car thinking, stupid man…
* * * *
Rory was glad her mother had not
waited up for her tonight. She was is no
mood to meet the inquisitive gaze of Lorelai Gilmore
as her mother tried to ascertain, by looking alone, how far her daughter had
gone this time. It was demeaning, it was
insulting, and lately, it was a little too accurate for comfort.
Rory sighed as she entered her
room and closed the door behind her. The
day had not ended as she had hoped; it hadn’t in a while. As she undressed for the night she thought
about Tristan and how upset he had looked when he dropped her off. Well maybe not upset, serious, thoughtful…
like he was trying to figure out something but wasn’t sure where to start. She looked at herself in the mirror… was she upset? She wasn’t even sure anymore. She’d had plenty of time to simmer down on
the silent ride home.
Tristan had kissed her goodnight
but he might as well have been kissing his aunt Petunia with the hairy mole on
her chin… there was no passion in the kiss, no heat. That bothered her. Sure she had pushed Tristan back before things
got a little too intense, again, but it took an enormous effort in her part to
do so. In fact, she realized as she saw
her reflection in the mirror... that she was still breathing a little heavily,
the fire in her belly not entirely extinguished. Just being around Tristan did things to her
body she could not easily explain and it bothered her that Tristan could
“disconnect” so easily from her. Their
last time came to mind then and she turned red just thinking about it. She was terribly embarrassed of what had
happened and did not want something like that to happen again; well she did,
just not like that. The problem was that if Tristan pressed, she
was really not sure she could hold out much longer.
Rory sighed thinking of the effect
Tristan had on her, maybe it was the heat;
she told herself as she slipped under her sheets in little more than a thin
tank, it was just too hot for anything else.
She closed her eyes remembering their tongues clashing earlier that day…
hungrily, passionately. Her dainty hand roaming over the sculpted
lines of his stomach… She traced
around the bottom her shirt as she recalled his hands working magic on her skin
leaving little traces of electricity wherever they touched her; and with her
encouragement, they touched her everywhere…
Just the thought of Tristan made Rory break out in a sweat and she
exhaled loudly pushing the sheets back and away from her body. Too hot. Her fingers slowly traced around the swell of
her left breast under her tank-top… feeling what Tristan must have felt when he
traced his tongue around her--
Rory opened her mouth to let out a
gasp as her body shuddered but a sound from upstairs stopped her cold. Rory sat up, ears perked before slumping her shoulders
in recognition. The sound was
unmistakable; Lorelai was having problems sleeping as
well, it had to be the heat.
Summers were just bad for Gilmores Rory decided right then, trying to ignore the muffled
groans and frustrated gasps, a clear indication of her mother’s bedroom
activities. One day, she’d have to tell
her mother about the A/C duct, but obviously not tonight. Tonight, Lorelai
would sleep like a baby and Rory would count the frames in her room, there were
five. Any thought of Rory finishing what
Tristan had started was long, gone out the window... The fire in her belly?
A pool of ice.
Somehow the idea of masturbating alongside her mother was something she
did not find one bit appealing. However,
her mother did help her make up her mind.
She wanted Tristan; she couldn’t deny herself that anymore if she tried
her hardest. She wanted him and realized
there was no reason to resort to what her mother was doing upstairs when she
had a willing (and more than able!) participant to lend her a hand… among other
things. Rory put a pillow over her head
to try to drown out the sounds of her mother’s upcoming climax and decided once
and for all, to let Tristan know she was ready.
She couldn’t even remember why she’d been pushing him back to begin with
anymore…
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