AN: The story's officially too long to upload all together on to the document uploader haha (I have all the chapters saved in one document and just delete the earlier ones when I put new chapters up). Thank you all for reading, it's a lot of fun to write :)
8 House & Home Pt II: Mother, Dearest And Financial Insecurities
I felt like my brain was going to shrivel up. I had just spent the last fifteen minutes getting glared at by my father while my mother stared at me with an expression of vacant confusion.
They wanted an explanation of just why my late and oh-so-great aunt hated me so very much. My dad and I were having our standard wordless conversation involving a series of eye-narrowing and lip twitching.
Sighing, he inclined his head slightly in the direction of where my mother was sitting and arched an eyebrow expectantly. Is it appropriate?
I smirked and half-shrugged. What do you think?
My father's eyes darkened; a silent warning.
I minutely jerked my head to the side and back with a bored curtness. Fine. Of course not.
Clearing his throat, he turned to my mother who was looking at the two of us with open puzzlement. "I'll talk to him myself."
"But why?"
"I can handle this. There's no sense in both of us wasting our time with this matter."
Accepting the explanation, my mother's face melted into complacency. She was already standing up as she said, "I could be the one to do the disciplining sometime. I feel as though you have been a bit more involved than I have been."
This was such an understatement, I wanted to snort. I didn't, of course.
"You pull your weight just fine." My father smiled tightly.
"You listen to what your father has to say, young man." She told me with what I'm sure she thought was authority. Did she just honestly call me young man? Seriously…
"I will." I said politely.
In a moment, we heard the quiet click that signalled that she had exited and closed the door behind her.
Both my father and I leaned back, our faces melting instantaneously into the expressions we had reigned in for her benefit. Ugly anger in his case, defiant indifference in mine.
"What'd you do, you stupid little shit?"
I suppose a little explanation is desired at this point. For him as well, but that isn't what I'm talking about obviously. My father and I have a policy where we mutually shield my mother from the pointy edges of my dalliances. She's excessively delicate- a china doll; a vapid mannequin who deals well only with the superficial. So we preserve for her the little rose-tinted world she occupies. It would irreparably shatter her if she knew all the ugly truths in this family. As a result, even her husband and son lie to her with polite masks. I can't be myself in front of my own mother.
You may think that this means I hold a deep caring affection for the woman since I handle her so cautiously. You'd be wrong. I don't do what I do out of fear of hurting her. I despise my mother with every fibre of my being. She's insufferably weak and it frustrates me more than anything else in my life. I could never respect someone like her- absorbed in perfection that doesn't exist, afraid of the darker sides of reality. The only reason I protect her with my father is because my family has a very precarious balance. If I tipped her over the edge, the dynamic would be crushed and chaos would result. She'd probably end up having a total break down, castrating the DuGrey name in the process. Can you imagine the monstrous PR needed to fix the debacle?
Not to mention the fact that in the event of a divorce, a monetary apocalypse would occur. When the two married, my dad had been intensely in love with my mother (and frankly, still is. How, I do not know). Obviously, he's a DuGrey and we have a legacy of wealth and prosperity for generations back. Pre-nups are standard fare and there was no chance in hell my grandfather Janlan would have let his son be the exception. But like I said, my dad loved my mother deeply and secretly changed the terms of the standard ironclad DuGrey pre-nup- in the event of a divorce, both parties would take away what they brought into the marriage but my mother would receive 45 of anything made during the marriage ('it'd be rightfully hers' he had said).
Again, my father's still in love with my mother and from what I can tell, she feels the same so I'm not saying that the only reason they're together is because my dad doesn't want to lose money. …Though personally, that'd be the only reason I'd stay with her.
All right. Expositional back story is done for now.
Let's get back to where my dad was asking what his shit of a son had done now.
"Great Aunt Caroline was a coordinator at her granddaughter's Debutante Ball last year. She couldn't find four of the girls. She located them when there was only eight minutes left until it began- they were with me, screwing in a dressing room."
My dad shut his eyes and clenched his jaw.
"Oh, did I mention that her granddaughter, good ol' cousin Sheryl, was with her when she saw me with four naked girls from her class? And that I was at the ball to begin with because you forced me to do a family favour and escort Cousin Sheryl's ugly, bitchy best friend?"
Oh, he looked pissed now.
"Sheryl's friend had been tagging along because Sheryl was the only one catty enough to be able to tolerate her and when she saw me there she exploded. So there was a full-blown tantrum/breakdown, which resulted in Sheryl totally pitching a fit. There was a massive catfight and all six girls had to make their debuts with ruined makeup and hair. It was, so I've heard, the single most catastrophic Debutante Ball held in known memory. Caused quite the scandal. I naturally slipped away when the girls started attacking each other- so the reason why you hadn't heard of my involvement before is because it was only reported that 'one of the girl's escorts had been involved'. I wasn't named. Great Aunt Carol and Cousin Sheryl were socially blacklisted." I was probably much too amused at this but, man… that had been a wickedly funny night.
"Are you quite finished?" My father hissed. He was turning purple.
"Yep." I grinned.
"So help me God, if I hear of one more incident where you step so much as one toe out of line, I am sending you to military school."
"I'll be good, pops. I swear." I pouted sarcastically.
"I mean, honestly. The car in the school prank was ridiculously inane, pathetically executed, and a deliberate attention-seeking act. And now I'm forced to hear yet another exploit in your sexual deviancy. I don't know why you enjoy being the dirty black sheep of the family but if you sully the DuGrey name, your Great Aunt won't be the only one whose will you have been written out of."
"Dad. I'm careful. There won't be any sullying." I rolled my eyes.
"I'm not playing. Your ass will be in military school the day after you pull another stunt."
I stood up and carelessly waved my hand. "Yeah, I heard you the first time. If we're done here, I have a bad ass reputation to uphold. I think I'm going to burn down some buildings today, maybe have an orgy with a group of midgets in the mud." I sauntered to the door.
"And I'm sure you'll enjoy yourself. Oh, and it should go without saying that I'll be cutting off your credit and debit cards." My father said casually to my back.
I stopped in my tracks. "Dad!"
He smiled kindly. "Yes, dear son?"
"You can't do that! I need that money!"
"You mean my money. No, you've been spoiled enough. It seems like money is the only thing you show any affection for. It's certainly the only thing you respect. Having unlimited funds has cultivated your irresponsibility. Look at yourself; you look like you've just been told that your mother's been held for ransom."
"Don't fool yourself. This is much, much worse." I said acidly as I stomped out the door. I made sure to childishly slam the door hard enough to shake the house.
"Are you okay?" a concerned voice asked to my left.
I looked up and half smiled. "Yeah, I'll be fine. See ya, Mary."
Fuckity fuck fuck fuckkk.
He wouldn't actually cut me off, would he? I'm his son. His firstborn. His heir!
Insufficient funds
NO. I have honestly never seen that phrase greet me from a bank machine before.
"I'm sorry, sir, there seems to be something wrong with your credit card."
I was panicking. Full-out panicking. I had 50 in my pocket and that was it. THAT WAS IT.
xXx
I shut my eyes and tried to steady my breathing as I rang the doorbell in front of me. Rory had invited me to her place since her mom would be at work and it was only fair. Her whole town was quaint but I felt a surge of affection for her house. It was so small-town-ish and cozy.
She grinned as she saw me and gave me a hug. I managed to smile back but the knowledge that I was poor was still crippling me. My dad was a stubborn jack ass- I wouldn't put it past him to keep me cut off for weeks, months even. What would I do? Okay, so obviously I still have cooks so I wouldn't starve. But what about when school started again? Was I supposed to… oh, God… PACK my lunch? And what about gas money?
"Tristan, are you okay?"
I shook away my frantic thoughts and realized that I was sitting on a couch and Rory was curled beside me.
"I'm fine." I reassured. But she leaned in to kiss me and I just wasn't feeling it. I shoved away the thoughts again and tried to just focus on her, but it wasn't working very well.
"Okay, what's wrong?"
"Nothing, I told you."
She was frowning now. Shaking her head, she muttered 'fine' and shifted away from me.
After a moment of silence, she blurted, "It's my house, isn't it? I know it's small enough to fit into your garage, but I've lived in worse and I love my home. And maybe you thought I was rich like you because I'm a Gilmore, but I thought it was common Hartford societal gossip that my mom ran away from home when she was pregnant with me and has been making her way independently ever since. So I'm not rich even though my grandparents are and you have your stupid shiny car and your mansion of a house and I'm sorry if this isn't good enough for you…"
"Rory, I've never even thought about your financial situation. I think your house is sweet, I couldn't care less that you don't have a lot of money, I respect your mom a whole lot for having the balls to escape from the tyranny of Hartford's elite, and the reason I'm distracted right now has nothing to do with you." I laughed. "Seriously, how much of a dick do you think I am?"
Rory looked away. "Well then why won't you trust me enough to tell me what's on your mind?"
"I just don't want to talk about it, okay?"
She stared at me. "You're really not okay right now and it kind of hurts that you can joke with me and mess around with me but you can't give me anything real."
I sighed, exasperated. "My dad cut me off and at the moment I'm pretty much broke and it's stressing me the fuck out, okay?"
She took my hand. "I'm sorry."
I glanced at her concerned face and clenched my jaw, "Maybe I don't tell you anything real because I don't think you'll really care. No one cares about real. It's all this sham of politeness. I've stopped talking to people about my problems a long time ago."
"We're not all fair-weather friends, Tristan."
"They are in my world." I pulled my hand away. "They're around because I'm a DuGrey. And now I'm poor for what could be a while."
"Well-"
"So don't even bother making up an excuse. If you don't want to stick around any more, fine. I'm expecting it."
"Tristan, what are you talking about?" She looked genuinely confused.
"I can't bribe ride operators to run a theme park at 2AM for you any more. I can't buy any more keys to sneak us into buildings. Hell, I probably can't even afford gas to drive you anywhere."
"And your point is?" Rory rolled her eyes. "I want you, not all the crap you can do for me."
"So you still want to be with me even though I can't buy you anything shiny?"
"Of course, you idiot." She laughed.
"I am so unbelievably glad you're not like anyone else I've ever known." I sighed, wrapping my arm around the girl warmly.
As we made out, Rory's hand snatching the front of my shirt, the brunette said to me rather cheekily, "And Tristan, the guys may hang around you for your money but most of the girls? They're around because you're unfairly good looking."
I laughed hard at that. "I don't know if I'm supposed to take that as a compliment, but it's good to know you've finally admitted that I am a sexy motherfucker." Stroking her shoulder absently, I had to ask, "Though it begs the question- are you hanging around me just 'cause I'm a pretty face?"
"Are you?"
"Oh nuh uh, I've complimented you enough lately. Your turn to stoke my ego." I smirked.
She jokingly pushed my face away. "You really are an insufferable peacock."
"Sing my praises?"
"You're annoyingly charming, surprisingly smart, incredibly funny, and aside from your pretty face you also have a stupidly nice body." Rory relented, playing with my fingers as she spoke. "Of course, you also have a weird superiority complex that exists solely to cover up what seems like a den of insecurities." My cocky smirk died. She met my eyes searchingly, "You have really serious trust issues don't you? You've been used a lot."
"Don't go psycho-analyzing me now, Gilmore." I flicked her nose. "Or you'll have yourself convinced that I'm this misunderstood, tortured soul. Which, you know, go right ahead and assume that if it turns you on, but I really am this arrogant and self-centred. And yeah, maybe I don't have much faith in the good intentions of others, and yeah I'm rich and have been played when I was younger but that's exactly why I've learned to master the game."
"Well, don't play me, okay?" She looked so vulnerable when she said this; I had to hold her tighter.
"Mary, this isn't a game for me. I don't know how many times I'll have to say it before you believe me, but it's really not."
"I guess we'll both just have to learn to trust each other."
"I think I already have."
"Me too." She whispered. "And that really scares me."
I took both of Rory's hands in mine and kissed them. "Babe, I'm not gonna hurt you. I promise."
"And I'm not gonna use you, I promise." She grinned. "So stop feeling like you have to be flippant all the time. Because I'm not 'people'. I do care about real."
I kissed her softly and followed her as she showed me around her house.
As clichéd as it would be to say that I liked her house more than mine because of the little personal effects (cold rich family VS warm middle-class family stereotypes, anyone?), it'd be the truth. Every inch of Rory's house was welcoming.
Walking into her room, I understood just why she had been so offended with my room. The walls themselves were singing 'this is Rory Gilmore's room'. For Chrissake, she had a bulletin board crammed with Harvard memorabilia!
I think my jaw actually dropped as I scanned the surroundings.
"You are definitely granted permission to redecorate my room," I chuckled.
She looked pleased. Slipping her hand around mine again, she gave me a sweet peck on the lips and swung our arms back and forth cheerfully. We were doing the whole staring-at-each-other-adoringly thing when her eyes widened. "Oh! Speaking of that-" Spinning around, she reached for a bag on her desk and fished out a camera. "This is day one of cataloguing Tristan DuGrey in photographs." Before I could react, she had taken a picture.
Rory grinningly backed away to take another shot so I made an exaggerated pout at the camera. Recognizing that she was going to be entertained by this for a while, I grinned and threw myself into making random faces.
I was actually quite the camera whore. It's just that most of the pictures taken of me aren't done using my camera and certainly not by my family. You can bet your ass there are a good thousand pictures of me from parties and things scattered across Hartford and the internet. A girl I knew had actually videotaped me being tied up in chains while three girls did body shots on me…what? I get drunk a lot. And that was one hell of a night.
After Rory took what felt like a good two dozen pictures, I stepped forward and swung my arm around her, stealing the camera with my other hand. "I really don't mind if you seriously want to bludgeon me with pictures, but honey, there's no point if you're not in them with me." I snapped a picture as I kissed her cheek.
The next half hour consisted of us being ridiculously camera whore-y. I'm pretty sure we contorted our faces into every possible expression we could physically make. She also decided to randomly jump on my back at one point and so we took several shots of that.
"You know what? This isn't a real catalogue of you, not yet."
"Oh? And what would constitute a real catalogue, lovely photographer?"
"You're going to need to take off your shirt." She grinned teasingly.
I wolf whistled. "Taking advantage of the model, are we?"
"Hey, I didn't say anything about your pants." She laughed. "This is strictly professional."
Smiling, I took off my shirt and gamely posed some more for the camera.
"Flex for the camera, DuGrey," Rory encouraged.
Smirking, I complied. "Careful, my sexiness may just break your lens."
She reached over to feel my arm and seemed adequately impressed with them. "Not bad there." Smiling slightly, her fingers released my bicep and trailed down my arm, then back up. "You have really nice arms."
Encircling said arms around her waist, I pressed my lips against hers playfully and we fell into her bed.
"You know, it's only fair for you to take your shirt off too. I feel so…exposed." I mock complained.
"Wouldn't want that, would we?" Rory chuckled. I moved my hands down her body and unzipped her hoodie before sliding up the shirt she had on underneath. The girl stopped my hand and pulled away from my mouth. "You aren't getting pictures of me without my clothes on, Tristan."
"You're no fun." I whined.
An evil smirk made its way onto my face as I got an idea. I retracted my hand from under her shirt and slipped it over her chest instead. My hand went under the material of her shirt from the opposite direction and I stroked her breast. I breathed into her ear, "Who said clothes had to come off?"
I watched as she closed her eyes… then I quickly retracted my hand and squeezed her breast over her hoodie- and snapped a photo of me doing so.
"Tristan!" She elbowed me.
"Oh come on- like it'd be a very honest documentation of me if there wasn't at least one photo of a boob grab."
She still looked annoyed so I leaned closer to her and casually slipped my hand down her pants and rubbed absently, "Why so serious? It's your camera. It's not like any one will ever see it if you don't want them to."
"Stop trying to seduce me." She said with a straight face. I burst out laughing and fell back against her bed.
"Are you ever gonna try and seduce me?" I asked.
"Are you telling me I have to try?" She responded archly. I let out an incredulous snort. I really was a bad influence. She joined my laughter and shook her head. "I suck at the whole being sexy thing."
I looked at her thoughtfully for a moment before crushing my lips against hers deeply. I slipped my fingers around both her wrists and pinned her arms above her head. Pulling back breathlessly, I said, "I could be all dominant and fuck you hard against your childhood bed." Leaning in so our lips touched when I spoke, I continued, "But I think you need to be shown that you can be the sexy dominant one."
"Have you met me?" Rory shook her head.
"Have you seen you?" I responded huskily. "Go on, give it a try. It's okay."
Staring at me for a moment, she suddenly sat up, ripped her wrists from my grip, and slammed me against the wall the bed was against. Pushing me down against the mattress, she climbed on top of me and swooped down to kiss me, her hair brushing against my cheeks as she did so. Halfway through the kiss, she burst into a fit of laughter.
Leaning her forehead against my chest as she continued straddling me, she couldn't make out words she was laughing so hard. I held her waist and waited in amusement for her to regain control.
"Sorry. But that was ridiculous."
"And painful." I added, glancing at the wall.
She burst into laughter again, "Sorry!"
"We should try dirty talk." I suggested evilly.
Rory rolled her eyes. "Oh yeah, I want to run my tongue down your sweating chest and feel your thing pulsate in my hand."
"That actually would've been pretty hot if you hadn't called it a 'thing'." I told her, amused.
"Too bad for you then."
"Come on, didn't you ever play the Penis game?"
"You mean that ridiculous game where the person who shouts that the loudest wins? No, I didn't."
"Well, I could always go into how I want to slide my tongue in between your breasts and pump my fingers into your clit until you cum all over my hand."
She turned red and rolled off of me. "Seriously, Tristan."
"Well I do." I shrugged, undoing the button to her jeans.
Her breathing hitched as I pulled down the zipper and started sliding down her body.
"Tristan, I don't know if we should. Here."
"What's wrong with here?"
"We've never done it in a bed before." She swallowed as I started tugging her pants off.
"And-?"
I kissed her thighs and dragged her underwear down.
"I just… it's silly."
I paused what I was doing and looked at her. I moved back up to be level with her face and brushed our noses together. "No, what is it?"
"I was thinking that maybe the first time we do it in a bed, it should… it could be special." She wasn't meeting my eyes. "I know it sounds ridiculous since we've already slept together, but…well, I don't know."
"Okay." I smiled, kissing her affectionately before sliding back down her body. "But as you've already told me before, you don't have to have sex to do things."
Watching her watch me, I kissed her cunt and slipped my tongue between the fold of skin. I slipped my hands under her to cup her ass and smiled as she sighed my name; her fingers tangling in my hair.
