Title: Too Close for Comfort
Chapter One: Key! Sex!
Time: The bedroom scene of Keg! Max! and on.
Story: The bedroom scene goes a little differently, thereby affecting the rest of the season. Sort of a "Frequency" idea.
Author's Note: Yeah, I'm starting another story. Yeah, I've got about twenty more I need to write. What's it to ya, punk?
Sorry. Please read.
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I slowly walked upstairs, trailing my hand along the banister. I hadn't seen Jess for a few minutes, since before Lane's band had taken a break. Young Chui had said he'd seen Jess head upstairs, so there I was, making my way upstairs, always the dutiful girlfriend. I sighed as I reached the second floor landing. It seemed like our relationship was slowly falling apart, and I hated it. It was the same thing that had happened with Dean, except it was happening so rapidly, I felt like I'd only had six weeks with Jess, at the very most. It really wasn't enough, and I hoped I could hang onto him for just a little longer.
The second door I leaned on opened slowly, and there was Jess, standing in the middle of the dark bedroom. I smiled and made my way over to him.
"There you are."
"Hey," he greeted me.
"I've been looking all over for you."
Jess shrugged. "Just got tired of everything down there."
Suddenly remembering where we were, I glanced around us. "Are we allowed to be up here? I mean, Kyle was kind of discouraging it."
Jess shrugged again. "When you have a party, you get what you get."
"Yeah, I guess," I muttered. I looked a little closer at Jess. His head was down, his hands shoved in his pockets. His sad pose. "Sad boy, what's wrong?" I ran the back of my hand across his cheek. "You were looking forward to this party, what happened?"
"Nothing," Jess said moodily.
"Something did. Come on, tell me." I wrapped my arms around his waist and kissed his lips gently. "You're not tired of me, are you?"
In response, Jess wrapped his arms around me and kissed me deeply.
"That's a pretty good answer," I said breathlessly when we separated. Jess didn't say anything, just leaned into me again, this time backing me up towards the bed. We slowly tumbled onto it, scarcely breaking contact. I reached behind me and tried to angle myself more towards the pillows. Seconds before my head hit them, Jess detached and tried to undo my belt buckle.
"This is poking me," he muttered. I reached down and pulled my key from the buckle. I set it on the bedside table and pulled him towards me. He used his hand to pull my belt from around my waist and drop it on the floor. I grinned, and to retaliate, started unbuttoning his shirt. He started kissing my neck, leaning so my hands were crushed beneath him. I giggled, and pushed him from my neck. For just a second, we stared into each other's eyes, and then he dove onto my lips again.
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Half an hour later, my eyes were starting to close. Jess had his arm wrapped around my bare waist, his head buried in my hair. His breathing was deep and regular, and mine was in sync. My eyes fluttered…I was drifting off. A thought hit me and they popped back open.
"Oh, my God," I muttered, sitting straight up. "Oh, my God!"
"Rory?" Jess murmured, lifting his head.
"Oh, my God!" I jumped off the bed and started searching through the pile of clothes on the floor.
"Jeez!" Jess yelled when the fist pair of jeans flew back and hit him on the head.
"Oh, my God!" I paused briefly to yell back at him.
"What's wrong?" Jess asked, sitting up.
"Someone could've walked in that door."
"And Santa Claus could come down the chimney, whatever," Jess said flippantly.
"Oh, I cannot believe it happened like this!" I muttered, standing to put on my bra and underwear.
"Like what?" Jess asked.
"This…this! In someone else's bedroom, someone else's house, with my best friend and ex-boyfriend right downstairs!" I stopped while putting on my jeans. "Omigod," I breathed. "The music's stopped."
Jess cocked his head to the side. "That it is," he said, slowly emerging from under the covers.
"Oh, my mother's going to kill me!" I hurriedly buttoned my jeans and wrestled myself into my shirt. Halfway through, I got stuck. "I hate this thing," I muttered, annoyed and stressed.
Jess, only missing his shirt now, walked over to me and gently tugged on the shirt until it was settled perfectly on my body.
"There," he said softly, leaving his hands resting on my hips.
"Thank you," I smiled.
"You're welcome," he nodded, and then pulled his hands back to pick up his shirt.
I glanced around for my jacket; it was lying on the nightstand. I pulled it towards me, and then flipped it around to put it on. I didn't realize that my move had dropped my house key on the floor, underneath the bed, until later. I waited for Jess to put on his own jacket, and then we left the bedroom together.
Walking with our arms around each other's waists impeded out movement, but we made it down the stairs. As we reached the bottom landing, we could hear a faint siren in the background. Exiting the practically empty house, the first person I saw was my best friend.
"Lane!" I called, running over to her. She was sprawled on the ground next to the bushes, tiny bits of vomit in her hair. "Oh my God, are you okay?"
Panting, Lane shook her head. I slipped an arm around her waist and pulled her up. "Come on, let's get you home."
"Okay," Lane groaned, leaning into me. I caught Jess's eye as we walked past him; he smiled, and nodded, and walked the other way back home.
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Half a block from Kim's Antiques, I stopped and helped Lane onto a bench. Lane sat down gratefully and sighed.
"That was stupid."
"Just a little," I agreed, sitting next to Lane.
"I…called my mom," she admitted sheepishly.
"What?"
Lane nodded.
"That's bad."
"Oh, yeah-huh." Lane nodded again.
"Well…what'd you say? Maybe it's not that bad."
"Oh, it's bad. I said I was at a party, playing rock music, drinking beer. I called our band the Who."
"When you're really the Whoevers," I said without thinking about it.
"Yeah." Lane started to nod, and then paused. "Yeah! That's an awesome name! 'The Whoevers'. I love it! I'll tell the guys."
"Okay. Be sure to credit me."
"Or let them think I came up with it in my drunken stupor? Yeah, I'll credit you."
"Good. Is that all?"
"All of what?" Lane asked, confused. For a second, I'd forgotten she was drunk.
"All of what you said."
"Oh, no. I told her I was in love with Dave."
"Aw. Sweet."
"I don't think she'll see it that way."
"Well…just know that he loves you too. He does, right?" I asked quickly.
"Yeah," Lane said dreamily. "He does."
I took this as my cue. It was now or never. "Um, guess what?"
"What?"
"Uh, tonight, Jess and I…we…had sex."
"No! Oh, my God. Are you gonna tell Lorelai?"
"Oh, I don't know. She might kill me."
"She'll kill you more if she finds out you kept it from her."
"Yeah, that's true," I said thoughtfully, then shook my head. "Whatever. I'll think about it. Right now, it's time to get you home."
"Okay," Lane said as we stood. "Wait. Why don't you go ahead and leave me to Mama alone."
"You sure?"
Lane nodded.
"Okay. I should go ahead and get home…anyway." I trailed off as I remembered something. "OH MY GOD!"
"What?"
"My key! My belt!" I left them upstairs?"
"Upstairs?"
"Upstairs at the party! Oh my God!"
"Oh my God," Lane yelled.
"Oh my God!" we screamed in unison.
"What're you gonna do? Lorelai'll know!"
"Ugh, I know! What'm I gonna do? What am I going to do?" I sank onto the bench.
"I know!" Lane said suddenly.
"What?" I asked, springing back up with the feel of hope.
"Okay, you go back to your house, and you hide in the buses, and right after Lorelai comes home, pretend like you're just getting home. You can ask about the meeting, and make sure to distract her so she doesn't notice you don't have a key."
"Oh, that's good."
"Thank you," Lane smiled.
"Oh, wait. What if she's already home?"
"Uh…sneak into your room, then find a door she's not looking at, slam it, and yell, 'I'm home!'"
"Very good," I nodded. "I think that'll work."
"Glad to be of help."
"Very good help, too." I wrapped Lane in a quick hug, and then we separated and went our different ways.
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The plan was very good, but unfortunately, there was one variable we hadn't thought of.
I walked up just as Mom was getting out of the Jeep. She spotted me over the large box she was hauling up the porch steps.
"Hey, babe. Just getting home?"
"Yeah," I said a bit warily, eyeing the box and wishing desperately for pockets.
"You have a good time?"
"Yeah," I smiled. "It was great."
"How was Lane's band? Was it fun being a groupie?"
"Just wonderful. I had to fight with Young Chui over her, though."
Mom tried to shrug, but the box was hindering her movements. Instead, she nodded toward the door.
"Key?"
Mentally cursing, I reached for the key I knew wasn't there. I inhaled sharply and braced myself, getting ready to lie.
"Oh, no!"
"What? What is it?" Mom asked, worried.
"I stopped at Lane's house and dropped her off, and I used her bathroom, and I think I must have left my key there."
"Oh. Okay. Well, get my key from my purse and you'll have to get yours tomorrow."
"Okay." I pulled Mom's purse from her hand, dug for her key, and unlocked the door. Closing it behind us, I leaned my forehead against the cool glass of the window.
"Stupid, stupid, stupid," I muttered. "Very, very stupid."
"What?" Mom asked, heading from the kitchen to the living room.
"It was stupid of me to leave my key."
Mom shrugged. "Doesn't matter. It's easy enough to get it." She smiled.
"Yeah."
Mom must have read the worry on my face, because her smile faltered. "Hey, you look tired. Maybe you should get some sleep."
I smiled at her. "Yeah, I'm just tired. Okay. Goodnight, Mom." I leaned in and kissed her on the cheek.
"'Night, babe."
I smiled again as I walked away, and then shut the door to my room as I entered.
"Oh God, oh God, oh God, oh God." I pulled a pillow from the head of my bed and curled around it. "That was way too close." I took a deep breath.