A/N: Phew, that was a long delay! I'm so sorry for taking this hiatus. I was actually done with this chapter earlier, but my computer spontaneously restarted and I lost a lot of it and had to rewrite (ugh, awful). Hopefully though, updates should be a lot more regular from now on (fingers crossed). If any of my lovely, faithful readers are still reading this, I think I'll summarize what's been going on in case anyone forgot.

Summary: Jess and Rory are living together at the Gilmore house. Jess took Rory out on an awesome date that ended with them going to prom in New York. Lorelai just got the letter saying Rory didn't get financial aid from Yale. Then, she got a surprise visit from Emily Gilmore who found out that Jess is living at their house.

Also, this chapter contains some smut. You can skip if you're not into that.

Enjoy and please leave a review!

Chapter 24

Jess felt something soft brushing against his legs, pulling him out of sleep. As he slowly opened his eyes, he smelled the coffee and smiled.

'Hi.' He said groggily. His voice came out raspy and distorted.

'Hi.' Rory smiled back softly, her fingers tracing the rims of her coffee cup. She was sitting on the bedside table with her feet perched on the bed under his blanket.

Her toes rubbed up and down his thighs lazily and he let out a soft sigh, a purring sound he'd normally never make if it weren't for his half-asleep state.

Out of the corner of his eye, he could see her shake with silent laughter. Mercifully, she didn't call him out on it. Instead, she remarked. 'You're in my bed.'

'Mmm-hmm.' He replied, ignoring her teasing tone. Words were too much effort and he could barely keep his eyes open anyway. He buried his head into the pillow again, so that only his messy black hair was visible.

'It's raining outside. It's so pretty.' She said wistfully, flipping through the pages of the book on her bedside, the book that had kept him up last night. He'd already started on one of the books they'd bought together at the book fair yesterday.

'Mmm-hmm.' His muffled voice came through the pillow.

'Let's go out.'

He groaned against the pillow. The idea of getting out of bed was unimaginable. It felt like he'd only gotten five minutes of sleep. He pulled the blanket tighter over his face.

'For a walk. It'll be fun.'

Her voice was just the right pitch to soothe him back to sleep. She had a quiet, smooth voice and he liked how when she whispered, it didn't break the silence; only blended into it. He was sure that was what hypnosis must feel like. He hoped she'd keep talking as he sank deeper into the pillow.

'Or we could make hot chocolate and curl up with a good book.' Nimble fingers weaved into his hair. The rhythmic touch was making his breathing slow. If she was trying to get him back to sleep, it sure was working.

Her fingers paused in his hair. 'Is that a yes?'

'Hmm?'

'Will you make me hot chocolate?'

He exhaled, then mumbled. 'No.'

He didn't need to open his eyes to know she was pouting, most likely about to sigh and walk out of the room. But instead of leaving, her body was somehow all at once on top of his, clinging onto his back. He tried to sigh in exasperation, but her hair surrounded his face and tickled his cheek and why did she have to smell so good? Her arms wrapped around his shoulders while her chest pressed into his back. She dipped her head down and he suddenly felt her tongue at his ear. He had to smile as her fingers trailed down towards the waistband of his pants, loosening the strings. There was no going back to sleep after that.

He peeked at her questioningly as his eyes slowly adjusted to the light.

'What?' She widened her eyes innocently. 'I can't say thank you for yesterday?'

'At 6 am?'

'It's 8.' She defended.

'It's early.'

'Were you planning on hogging my bed until noon?'

'It's early and it's Sunday.' He complained.

'Not that early.'

'Not for you. You're made of caffeine.' He rolled his eyes.

'Aww.' She cooed, her arms squeezing his shoulders. 'I missed your morning grumpiness.'

'Yeah, well, here it is.'

'Funny you weren't this grumpy when you woke me up yesterday morning.' Her fingers disappeared into his hair again, pulling gently.

'That's why I plan on making up for it.'

'I mean, for a second there, I was starting to worry you were turning into a morning person.'

'Well, now you can stop worrying.'

'So, of course, I had to come here and make sure you weren't body-snatched by alien clones.'

'Alien clones?'

'Alien clones that happen to be raging fans of Good Morning America.' She replied solemnly and tugged on his shoulders.

He complied by pulling the blanket aside and turning over onto his back to face her, so that she was lying on top of his chest. She tousled his hair away from his eyes and he lost his train of thought as he focused on trying not to make another embarrassing noise of contentment. It was hard to stay cranky with her face so close. He could feel her breath on his chin and her chest rising and falling against his.

'We went to prom yesterday.' She whispered against his lips.

'Huh. Is that what that was?' He whispered back lazily.

'I know you didn't wanna go –'

'True.'

'And that you thought it was lame –'

'Also true.'

'But you took me anyway and you planned this whole elaborate day and –'

'To be honest, I was half-hoping I'd wear you out at the book fair and get us both out of it.'

'Okay, I remember you being a lot nicer yesterday.' She shifted on top of him, so that her hips were over his and her feet pressed against his own. Her arms folded over his chest and her chin rested on her forearm, her warm breath tickling his neck. She looked up at him with unwavering eyes, wide and blue and magnificent.

When they first got together, Rory used to break eye contact pretty quickly. She would fiddle with her hands or with the sleeves of her shirt or with the loose strands of her hair. But nowadays, he liked that she was bolder, more comfortable. Now, she held his gaze, as if she was as fascinated with his eyes as he was with hers.

It took him a beat too long to think of anything to say. He tried to convince himself it was because his mind was still half-asleep and not because he was filled with a sudden urge to tear off the layers of clothes between them. 'I guess it was a fluke thing.'

She shook her head disapprovingly. 'Can't you just let your girlfriend say thank you?'

'Say thank you how?' He raised his brow in challenge.

She held his eyes for a moment before looking away, blushing. 'Dirty.' She mumbled.

He tried to hide a smile as he redirected his focus to her shoulders, running his fingers down her bare arms, to her elbows then back upwards. He started to count the freckles on her shoulders, but quickly found himself distracted by the clear lack of bra underneath her white tank top.

'Jess?' She tried again, a moment later, when her courage had returned.

'Rory?' He echoed.

'Did you think I'd forget you actually danced last night?' Her eyes gleamed.

'Hey, now, wait a minute.'

'In a tux too.'

'Rory.' He warned.

'Which means now that I know you can dance, you're never getting out of taking me anywhere. Think of all the college parties and town festivals and weddings and fundraisers and –'

He cut her off with an exaggerated groan while she laughed quietly into his neck.

'You're sadistic this early in the morning.' He gave her a hard look, but she just ruffled his hair softly in response. He continued. 'Why are you up anyway?'

'Well, Lane called and woke me up. So I thought you'd like to know she got home safe and in complete stealth.'

'Good for her.'

'She says thank you.'

He nodded, saying nothing, as he traced the neckline of her tank top, his fingers grazing her skin. She inched closer, her lips moving closer, parting right over his.

'Thanks for buying all my books yesterday.' She smiled, sliding away and twirling a strand of her hair on her forefinger.

He rolled his eyes. 'And you couldn't have waited till the sun was all the way up to tell me that?'

'I could've. But then I wouldn't be sure that all members of the upstairs household are asleep.'

'Asleep, huh?'

'Everyone else in this house is asleep, yes.' He was very much aware that when she absentmindedly shifted her legs, she rubbed him in exactly the right way and in exactly the right spot. Knowing Rory, she probably had no clue how crazy she was driving him.

'And does that have anything to do with why you woke me up?'

'Maybe.' She smiled and leaned in closer, placing warm hands on either side of his face. He was momentarily entranced by the way the sunlight lit her hair into strands of golden amber, curtaining his face as she closed the distance between them, kissing his lips, slowly and intently. She shifted on top of him again. Did she really not notice how hard he'd become?

'Rory.' He said pointedly.

The blush that crept into her face told him everything he needed. She wouldn't meet his eyes, and instead seemed to be staring intently at his mouth.

Without giving him the chance to say anything, she licked his lower lip, teasing his lips with featherlight brushes. She tasted like coffee and cinnamon. When she finally brought their lips together, he closed his eyes and embraced the Rory-induced tingling in his stomach.

Her lips moved lower down his neck and over his chest. She was taking her time with every small touch, making the kisses last, letting them soak deeper into his skin, into his veins, right into his bones.

There was something else today, something other than their usual lust in her touches, something just as potent. She was touching him carefully, like he was something to be valued, to be explored. He almost wanted to stop her, to make her look at him and pause, ask her what the hell she was trying to do to him. He wanted her to slam him into walls, against doors, windows, or bookshelves. He could handle that. That's what they did, that's what he knew. But this tenderness… it rattled him. It shook something deep inside of him. Something that told him he should push her back, pull away, retreat, say anything to stop her from breaking his walls down.

'I should plan more trips to New York if it means–' He started, before she cut him off with another entrancing kiss.

The part of his brain that was capable of rational thought was urging him to run. This couldn't be good, the staggering, breath-stopping craving he felt for her. He should run because the way things were going, it was going to hurt like hell when she left, when she decided she was done with him. She was going to graduate and travel and go off to her fancy plans and he fit in nowhere. If he didn't push her away, she would break him.

But how could he push her away when he just wanted her closer? So close her body would mold into his, so close he wouldn't feel the hollow fear eating at him. Almost all on their own, his arms went around her back, crushing her ribs, eliminating the air between them.

As his desperation quickly turned into a physical urgency, it quickly became easy to block out all the other thoughts, so he could focus only on her. Her lips, her hands, her breath, her hips. He was vaguely aware of clothes being shed, condoms being unwrapped, something skidding off the bedside table – a book, or a coffee cup, or both.

He blinked in worry when she paused. She seemed like she was determined to say something important.

'Jess, I…' She stuttered breathlessly, her lips swollen and red and amazing. 'Jess, I think I…'

He quickly shook his head and pulled her down for a needy kiss. As he rubbed her hips with the tips of his fingers, Rory deepened their kiss, melting into him. Her fingers grazed his chest and he realized she was writing the words on his skin, tracing them again and again on his chest, with looping L's and swirling u's. He tried to say them back, but his mouth wouldn't move.

'Your heart's beating really fast.' He heard her whisper, more breathless than before.

'Yours too.' He managed to say, as he guided her hips to his. And it was all instinct from there as they lost their thoughts in a torrent of pleasure and need.

Lorelai woke up to an empty bed and a quiet house and instantly knew where Rory would be, or rather who she'd be with. Rory's closed bedroom door only confirmed her suspicions.

She suddenly missed 11-year-old Rory. When they'd first moved to this house, Rory hadn't liked the idea of sleeping in her own room. Lorelai would sit next to her in her tiny bed, convincing her that it was where she needed to sleep. Rory would be reading a book and Lorelai would be skimming a magazine. When her daughter finally fell asleep, Lorelai would kiss her temple before going upstairs to her own bed. Within a few hours, Lorelai would wake up to find Rory cuddled up next to her. She'd say that her bed creaked, or that she heard something outside the window. It was nearly a year before she could manage to sleep in her own room. Until then, she'd fallen asleep in her mother's bed, clutching a book or a map of Europe in one hand and hug-a-world in the other.

Now, she wouldn't even spend one night in bed with her mother.

'Stupid boys with their stupid charms. Stupid teenage hormones. Stupid, stupid, stupid.' She muttered under her breath as she slammed her palms at the coffee machine.

At times like these, Lorelai found herself wishing parenting came with an instruction manual. She could really use a chapter on what to do when your teenage daughter sneaks out of your bed to her teenage boyfriend's. Or how to deal with the teenage boyfriend living in your home.

A stray thought came to her mind. I discovered the secret to parenting, Luke had said a long time ago. Of course, Luke would no doubt freak out if he found out Jess and Rory were in close proximity to a bed, let alone on it. If only passion and hormones could be kept at bay with a few ground rules and incessant interruptions. Lorelai knew first-hand that telling teenagers not to have sex only leads to more sex. It was probably why Rory was conceived in the first place.

You've completely failed as a mother, Lorelai, do you hear me?

Lorelai winced, suddenly noticing a bitter aftertaste in her coffee. She needed to talk to Rory about the Emily-situation. Emily would no doubt try to talk to Rory, maybe attempt to guilt-trip her into a breakup. She might even be sending a dozen or so nuns to safeguard her virginity. She'd put pressure on her, maybe even cut her out of family events. Rory didn't know this vindictive side of her grandmother. She should be prepared.

As she sipped her coffee, she stared at Rory's closed door. Maybe she should talk to Luke about this. An easy solution to the Emily-situation would be to find an amicable way for Jess to go back to his uncle. Then, if Emily came over, they could claim it was all a misunderstanding or that it'd been a temporary situation that was now resolved. It would provide some much-needed space between the two teenagers, less attachment. It would be cruel of Lorelai to wish they'd break up, but a little less attachment was the only way to make sure Rory's heart wouldn't shatter into a million pieces. Or at the very least, there would be less sneaking around at night if Luke was involved. It shouldn't be too hard to convince Luke, but Jess…

Besides, if she made Jess leave because of her mother, it'd be exactly what Emily wanted. And Lorelai would rather eat pebbles than play right into her mother's hands. This was her house, dammit.

She glanced at Rory's door. It was all too quiet in there. In fact, she hadn't heard a sound since she'd come downstairs. She shouldn't wait any longer to discuss this with Rory. All the noise in Lorelai's head would make sense once they talked it through.

Lorelai sighed and knocked lightly on the door.

No answer.

She paused for a second and cleared her throat, but was only greeted by more silence. She slowly cracked the door open, one eye closed, hoping she wouldn't see naked bodies.

A pair of dark eyes looked up at her in exasperation. The eyes that stole her daughter away, she thought dramatically. Jess was sitting on the bed, halfway under the covers, next to her sleeping daughter. A book was balanced on his knee, held open with one hand. His other hand disappeared when Lorelai came in, but not before she glimpsed that it'd been woven in Rory's hair.

For a few very long seconds, they did nothing but stare – or in Jess's case, glare – at each other. She noted his damp hair, long-sleeved shirt and sweatpants. Despite being fully dressed, he was scowling indignantly as if Lorelai had walked in on him naked.

'Jess, hi.' Lorelai said carefully, low enough so as not to wake Rory.

He didn't respond and instead looked at her as though he could force her out of the room by sheer willpower.

At that moment, Lorelai made a snap decision. Unpleasant as he may be, she would have to talk to him anyway and that morning was as good as any. Sure, ideally, she would've talked to Rory first, but her daughter was asleep and she needed to talk to someone about the whole Emily-situation. She would burst if she had to contain her thoughts anymore.

She smiled at Jess. 'The coffee machine needs cleaning. I could use a hand.'

More glaring.

She sighed. 'And I think we should talk. I won't bite.'

He twisted his lips and turned to look at Rory, as if silently communicating his dread. He ran a hand over his face and mumbled a quiet, 'fine', before carefully rising from the bed. As he got up, Rory never even stirred. It occurred to Lorelai that he'd probably had a lot of practice in sneaking out from that bed by now, or in sneaking out in general.

As they walked into the kitchen, Lorelai braced herself for the awkwardness that would ensue.

A/N: Reviews make my day! Please, please tell me how you feel!