Author's Note- I know, I know, you are probably all wondering what I'm doing writing this when I still haven't posted chapter three of The Last yet. It's all done, I'm just waiting for the wonderful Sara (Shouhei) to beta it! So if you are really impatient, go bother her. (He, he, he.)
In the meantime, and in honor of my undying love for the Olympics, and Trory, I give you a little one shot to tide you over while she is going over chapter three with her fine toothed comb. (You'll thank her for it later, trust me! I had my wisdom teeth out last week, and I wasn't exactly coherent while writing it. Who knows what I sent her!)
I went a little further with the end, which is another reason why I wrote this. I wanted to test more waters, I've never actually done a scene like that, so feedback would be appreciated, as always. Please review!
Going For the Gold
"And he does it! Michael Phelps gets the gold medal!"
They exploded into cheers, Lorelai tossing popcorn into the air as though it were confetti, Rory jumping up and down in excitement. Usually, they weren't all that excited about sports, but this time, they could make an exception...
"Do you see the ass on him? Holy crap!" Lorelai tilted her head to the side, her eyes never leaving the screen.
"Ew, mom." Rory said, her own head tilting just a bit. "He is literally old enough to be your son."
"So what? That means that I am no longer free to appreciate the wonderful eye candy that suit he's wearing displays to incredibly?"
"Still, at least when you were drooling over Blaine, you were closer in age. Ogling Michael just seems wrong somehow."
"Okay, if I can't look at Phelps, you can't look at Brad Pitt." Lorelai countered, shoving a mouthful of popcorn into her mouth.
"Evil Mommy."
"Them's the breaks, kiddo."
"Well, I guess that nothing would come of an occasional glance in his direction..." Rory trailed off, as the Russian gymnasts took the mat.
"Aleksei Namov, now there is a perfect specimen of a man if I ever saw one." Lorelai smiled mischievously. "What I would do..."
"I don't think that our favorite coffee supplier would enjoy hearing the end of that sentence, Mom." Rory smirked, opening a bag of twizzlers. "He might shut off the free coffee."
"Well, we can't have that, now can we?" Lorelai grinned. "I mean, if we have to pay for coffee, we'd have to hock all those new shoes that we bought with our savings on caffeinated beverages."
"Perish the thought."
"I completely concur."
"What?"
"Hmm?" Lorelai asked, digging her hand back into the bowl of popcorn sitting in her lap.
"How can you concur?"
"How can I not?"
"There was nothing to concur."
"Yes, there was." Lorelai said, alternating her attention alternately from her daughter to the television. "You agreed, so I concurred."
"Okay, there are so many thing wrong with that." Rory shook her head.
"Name two."
"No problem." Rory smiled. "First of all, I never agreed, I said 'perish the thought. Second, you were the one that made the statement. You can't 'concur' yourself.
"And yet, somehow, I did." Lorelai smiled, sticking her tongue out at Rory.
"You're hopeless."
"Am not!"
"Are too!"
"Speaking of Brad Pitt-," Lorelai began, only to be cut off by Rory.
"Since when were we talking about Brad Pitt?"
"Since the beginning of the conversation, duh!"
"We were not! We glossed over him, in your very underhanded and evil tactic to get clearance for your lusting over a boy that's the same age as me!"
"Hey, I'm not lusting, for your information, I think he is a great athlete. And if his Olympic uniform fits like a second skin, then that's not my fault." Lorelai grinned.
"Only Evil Mommies use the Brad card." Rory pouted.
"I know." Lorelai smiled, pulling a few M & M's from a bag on the coffee table. "Anyway, speaking of Brad Pitt, just where is that boyfriend of yours? We sent him out for pizza forever ago."
"It was like twenty minutes, Mom. Seriously, a watch would alleviate all these time issues." Rory giggled, ducking to avoid the colorful candy that her mother had chucked at her. "And how does Speaking of Brad go to Tristan picking up pizza?"
"Oh, please."
"What?"
"You never noticed?"
"Never noticed what?"
"That your boy toy is practically a dead ringer for Brad Pitt."
"Wow, so happy to hear your words of praise, Lorelai." Both Gilmore girls turned to see Tristan enter the living room, three pizza boxes in hand. "I mean, I know I'm hot, but to hear you compare me with the former 'Sexiest Man Alive', well, that is high praise indeed."
"See what you've done, Mom?" Rory sighed dramatically. "You've swelled his head so much, I'm never going to be able to get it back to human size!"
"Are you saying I have a big head?" He asked, his voice laced with innuendo.
"Yes." Rory said, then looked up at him her eyes widening. "No! I mean-,"
"Just stop talking now." Lorelai said, scrunching her face. "If you don't I might have to hang myself, and that wouldn't be good."
"But I didn't-," Rory tried to correct her previous statement again, but Lorelai wouldn't hear of it.
"No! Please!" She covered her ears, rocking back and forth, humming slightly. "Please shut up Rory, I'm trying to repress here."
"Oh, please, stop acting like a four year old." Rory rolled her eyes. "It's not like I haven't heard worse from you."
"Hey! I don't tell you that much!" Lorelai retorted.
"Oh really? Then why couldn't I look Mr. Medina in the eye for a month?" Rory shot back playfully.
"Oh, yeah, I forgot your mom was 'hot for teacher'." Tristan laughed, setting the pizzas on the table and taking a slice for himself.
"Okay, I really don't want to chat about my ex-fiancé with my daughter's boyfriend." Lorelai replied, standing up. "So I think I'm going to take one of these delicious smelling pies and see what my favorite fashion victim is up to."
"Mom, Luke is not that bad of a dresser."
"He wears practically the same thing every day!"
"Maybe he knows what looks good on him."
"Well, those jeans certainly do his fine butt justice." Lorelai joked, her eyes glazing over a little at the image of Luke flashing through her mind.
"Mother!" Rory exclaimed, shaking her head. "I told you yesterday, no comments on any part of Luke's anatomy unless you are prepared to pay for my therapy!"
"It would almost be worth it, especially if I could be in the room when you were talking about your issues with your doctor." Lorelai laughed. "Please doctor, I can't seem to stop looking at my mother's boyfriend's ass. Help me, save me from myself!" She cried dramatically, her right hand flying up to her forehead.
"I would pay good money to be a fly on the wall in that room." Tristan laughed. Rory turned and glared at him. "What?"
"You're supposed to be on my side!"
"And what are you gonna do about it?" He teased, smirk firmly in place.
"I can think of a couple..." Rory smiled evilly. "Or rather, I can think of a few things I'm not going to do."
"And on that note, the mother is leaving." Lorelai made a face, walking quickly to the door. "And if you're going to do what I would do, please make sure to go in your room. I don't want to walk into my living room and be scarred for life again!"
Upon hearing the front door slam, Tristan turned to Rory. "You weren't serious, were you?"
"About what?" She asked, distracted by the events on the screen.
"You know what."
"I do? Oh, yeah I do." She said, realizing what he was talking about.
"Well?"
"Well what?"
"Were you?" He asked, moving closer, invading her personal space.
"Was I what?" She arched an eyebrow, her head tilting to the side, giving him access to trail light kisses from her shoulder to her ear. His breath was hot on her neck, his voice ragged in her ear as he pulled a lobe into his mouth.
"Were you serious?" He asked her again, his voice low and hoarse with the lust that always seemed to come out when he was near her.
He tracked his teeth back down her neck, biting her collarbone lightly, soothing it with his tongue, smiling against her skin as she moaned and answered, "I don't remember anymore."
"Good." He smirked, finally capturing her lips in with a powerful, hypnotizing kiss. He pushed her back against the couch cushions, running his hand up the side of her leg.
Her breathing became more shallow as he slowly unbuttoned her shirt, kissing the skin newly exposed after each one was released. He was moving at an achingly slow pace, taking his time in seducing her. Tristan pulled her up slightly to rid her of the garment, raining kisses on her flushed chest.
"Tristan," Rory murmured his name, his mouth nipping at the sensitive skin of her breast. How did he do it? How did he make it so easy to forget everything, and just get lost in him, and the way he made her feel?
They had been dating for months, she had met him again at one of her grandmother's parties. It wasn't until the moment that she had seen him across the room that she realized how much she had missed him over the last few years.
Tristan had caught her staring at him, and couldn't help but comment. They had fallen back into the easy banter that had been lacking in her life since he had walked out of Chilton the night of the play.
He had laughed when she told him about what had happened at the play. But he laughed even harder when Louise told him that she and Paris had kissed again at spring break. He still teased her about it every once in a while.
Their bodies moved together, in perfect rhythm with each other. Hands grasped, teeth tugged, tongues tangled, bringing her closer and closer to the brink. The coil within her that he was winding so tightly finally snapped, pushing her over the edge, bringing him along for the ride.
"Well, that was certainly a medal winning performance." She commented, when she found her voice once again.
"Oh really? Which one?" He smirked, pulling lightly on a strand of her dark brown hair. "Silver? Bronze?"
"Nope, definitely the gold." She grinned, pressing her lips against his once more.