Author's Bored Ramblings- Okay, so I just posted this on the SP site, but I'm extremely bored, and in need of something to entertain me, as no one is online to chat with, and nothingI read is getting updated. This story is one I have been working on since December, when I got the challenge to step in and write one of the abandoned stories for the Seasonal Passions Summer 2004 exchange. It's written for my friend and beta, Amy, who wrote an amazing little story called 'Friendly Skies.' (If you haven't read that one, you are seriously missing out, and I reccomend that you go and read it immediately after reading and reviewing this one.) She deserved a fic after that, and I couldn't let her go without one. Little did I know that it would take me about six months to write the first part, but that had more to do with not having many warm feelings in the middle of the winter, and not having a stellar idea for a fic.
I have to say, this is PART 1 again. I felt that Amy deserved to have a little bit longer of a story, and since I'm the writer I can do that. So if you don't see some of the requirements filled yet, DON'T PANIC! I'll get to them shortly. This isn't going to be an epic fic, just something fun for the summertime.
Thanks go to M, who did a great job of betaing this for me. I'm so glad that I'm surrounded by friends who have great writing skills. It makes it easy to find betas when I need them!
Disclaimer- I do not own Gilmore Girls, Ferris Beuller's Day Off, Sixteen Candles, Weird Science, or Pretty in Pink. If I did, I most definately would be a lot richer, and a lot older than I am right now.
Enjoy!
To Include:
1. A street fair (this was the only original requirement I could remember, lol)
2. Warm summer nights
3. Someone saying "I'm caught in John Hughes hell."
4. Rory and Tristan together.
Not to Include:
1. Sappy Trory
2. Sex in a normal place (sex in an unusual place A-OK, lol)
3. Emily/Richard getting involved in the Trory relationship, setting them up or tearing them apart.
Rating: R to NC-17. Hot and steamy always appreciated, but not necessary.
A P.D.A-Fair to Remember
"Why'd you kick me?"
"Where's your brain?"
"Why'd you kick me?"
"Where's your brain?"
"Why'd you kick me?"
"Where's your brain?"
"I asked you first."
"How can we pick up Sloane if Rooney is there with her?"
"I said for her to be there alone and you freaked."
"Now, I didn't hit you. I lightly slapped you."
"You hit me. Look, don't make me participate in your stupid crap if you don't like the way I do it. You make me get out of bed, you make me come over here. You make me make a phony phone call to Edward Rooney? The man could squash my nuts into oblivion. And-and-and then, and then, you deliberately hurt my feelings."
Rory laughed at the hilarity of Cameron and Ferris arguing, the slight movement of her body waking the man who was dozing next to her. Tristan rubbed his eyes, and stretched.
"You've gotta be kidding me." Rory looked away from the screen, her eyes landing on her boyfriend, who was currently yawning.
"What?"
"You fell asleep?"
"So?"
"You can't fall asleep during 'Ferris Bueller's Day Off!'" Rory cried in outrage at his nonchalance of falling asleep during one of the greatest movies ever made. "It's sacrilegious, and wrong, and evil, and…"
"Ror, we've been watching movies for hours." Tristan complained. "I was with you during 'Sixteen Candles,' and I had a few chuckles in 'Weird Science.' I even sat through 'Pretty in Pink.' But I can only take so much!"
"But this is 'Ferris Bueller's Day Off!"
"What's your point, Ror?"
"That it's 'Ferris Bueller's Day Off!" Rory couldn't believe this. How could she be dating someone who could fall asleep while watching Ferris have the best skip day of all time?
They had met in the very beginning of the summer, when they were both taking summer courses at Yale. Tristan was in her American Literature class, and they had quickly gone from having heated arguments over the merits of Willa Cather and Jim Carroll to even more heated kisses and caresses.
So now, as the classes had ended, Rory and Tristan were enjoying some down time, and a few movies. Or at least, Rory was enjoying herself.
"Rory, I know that you and your mom do the whole sit on the couch, eat junk, and watch as many movies as you possibly can before you pass out from pure exhaustion thing, but I can't." Tristan tried to explain calmly to his girlfriend, who was currently shooting daggers at him from the other side of the couch. "I need to do something. I can't just do nothing for hours on end."
"But it's Ferris Bueller's Day Off!" She yet again repeated her battle cry, which was getting weaker and weaker, in part because what he said did make sense, but also because of the hand that was slowly sneaking its way up her leg.
"Really?" Tristan's face contorted into a look of mock shock. "You don't say!"
"Tristan…" Rory trailed off as Tristan used her leg to pull her into his lap, and pressed his lips against hers. All thoughts of continuing their little tête a tête flew out the window as soon as her shirt hit the floor. The only feeling that Rory was conscious of at this juncture was the feeling of Tristan's lips moving across her collarbone and his hands sliding over her smooth skin.
Tristan smirked against her shoulder, satisfied that he had finally gotten her exactly where he wanted her. Try as he might, she had been more interested in her movies than she had been in him. And that didn't sit well with him.
Rory's fingers gripped his biceps as his fingers traced the outline of her breasts. Tristan's light touch drove her crazy, and it was completely evil of him to use that to make her forget the fact that she was mad at him. Two can play at that game, Rory thought, thinking up a plan of attack while fighting the haze that was enveloping her when he latched onto a particularly sensitive spot on her neck.
Reluctantly, she pushed him off of her. Confused, he gripped her hips, trying to bring her back to him, but she shook her head.
Rory undid his belt, pulling it from the loops with a flourish. Tristan watched her in awe. She wasn't one to take charge, preferring to be a very enthusiastic follower, but when she did decide to be the leader… wow. He had a feeling that this was going to be good.
She leaned down, kissing him forcefully. Rory's tongue flicked lightly over his lips, and Tristan opened his mouth to oblige her. With his lips crushed against hers, Rory began to grind her hips against his, lightly at first, then harder as she quickened her movements.
A groan tore its way from his throat, and she shivered as it traveled straight through her, sliding into the pool of heat settling low in her belly. His reaction to her advances gave her confidence, something she needed for the next phase of her plan.
Rory nipped lightly at his Adam's apple, scraping her teeth against the thin skin of his neck, her hands slowly moving from his hips to his lap. With Tristan's attention on Rory's mouth, which had traveled up to his earlobe, he didn't notice that she had unzipped his pants until her small hand was wrapped around his erection.
Sucking in a lungful of air, Tristan's gaze locked in on Rory, who stared back at him wickedly as she continued to stroke his length. Rory suppressed a smirk as Tristan's head fell back the couch, his eyes rolling back into his head with a moan of pleasure.
She liked this, taking control. It made her feel powerful. Leaning over him, Rory understood what Tristan must feel whenever they were together. The fact that she was in charge, that she, and she alone chose what they did and when they did it, along with how fast, how hard and how deep was an incredible turn on.
Rory pumped him, her movements becoming more purposeful as time passed. Tristan bit back a scream when her nail scraped over the head of his penis. Tristan was on top of the world, and Rory was strangely proud that she was the one filling him with such ecstasy.
Taking a breath, Rory slowly slid from where she had been teetering on the edge of his lap to the floor, the cold tile chilling her bare knees. Tristan groaned when Rory's tongue traced his length. Her hand came back to stroke him while his head filled her mouth.
Tristan dug his fingers into her hair as Rory's tongue swirled around his shaft, bringing him closer to the edge. He fought to keep his sanity, but the attentions of Rory's mouth were making that an impossible task.
His hips bucked involuntarily, pushing him even further down her throat. Tristan's body twitched, signaling that he could take no more exquisite torture. With a groan, he emptied his load into her waiting mouth.
Grinning triumphantly, Rory moved from her spot on the floor to sit beside the prone figure of her boyfriend. "Damn." Tristan muttered, still breathing hard. Rory's smile grew wider. It wasn't the first time she had given a guy a blowjob, but it was definitely the most satisfying.
Usually, Rory was a follower, choosing to let her man take the lead. It was a rare occasion that she actually take charge herself, and every single time before, she had felt uncomfortable and unsure, not really enjoying the experience.
With Tristan, she had finally understood. He had a way of making her feel comfortable not only with his sexuality, but with her own as well.
Watching him come apart like that was amazing. The look in his eyes, the way his body responded to her touch had turned her on. It made her feel good to know that she had been able to do that for him.
Before she could contemplate her accomplishments any further, Tristan pulled her into his lap once more, recovered enough to begin round two. He kissed her hard, unhooking her bra with one hand, a fistful of her dark hair in the other, pulling her even closer to him.
He cupped her breast, stroking the creamy white skin, his fingers circling her nipple dangerously before giving the pebbled skin a good tweak. A muffled shriek died against his lips, which were pressed firmly against Rory's own in a bruising kiss that spiked the temperature in the common room up, despite the air conditioner that was set on the coldest setting possible.
Tristan slid his hands slowly down her stomach, taking his time before reaching his intended target. His digits started pulling at her shorts, slipping inside of them to tease her, tormenting her just as she had him.
Eyes fluttering closed, her head fell onto his shoulder in surrender to the moment. The low whine that she emitted against his neck vibrated through Tristan, causing him to go hard once more against her thigh. Rory was could feel herself beginning to fall forward, closer to the welcoming oblivion that was never far away when her boyfriend was around.
"Oh, my God!" Rory gasped, quickly removing her face from Tristan's neck and glancing behind her. She was completely mortified to see the short frame of Doyle, her editor, standing just inside the room, a hand clapped tightly over his eyes. Obviously he was just as horrified by walking in of them as Rory was.
"God, Doyle! Could you stand any closer to the door?" Paris snapped, nearly walking into her boyfriend. "What are you doing?" She asked, wondering why his hand was being held so tightly against half his face. Paris glanced around the common room, understanding. It was hard to misinterpret Rory wearing her inside out tee shirt backwards and Tristan zipping his jeans with a scowl on his face.
"Are you kidding me?" Paris exploded, though not at the party that Rory was expecting. Truth be told, Rory had been expecting an agonizing lecture from her roommate about common room etiquette, but instead, Paris turned on Doyle, who had yet to remove his hand from his eyes, despite the fact that now everyone in the room, was (regretfully) fully dressed. "I can't believe you flipped out about that stupid little kiss I gave you in the newsroom this morning! Next to this, that was nothing!"
"Paris, I'm the editor. The staff won't respect me if they see me kissing you in the office." Doyle tried to explain, but Paris wouldn't hear of it.
"And yet you have no problem watching Rory and Tristan going at it on my couch!" Paris raged on, gesturing wildly at them. "They do this everywhere. On the couch, in the hall, classrooms, the quad, the dining hall. They are a walking, talking, P.D.A. If they are within ten feet of each other, they start. It's like there's some great force bringing them together, fusing them at the lip. They even do this in your precious newsroom! And as far as I know, no one has lost all their respect for the Ace Reporter over there. God only knows what they do in private, considering that there's not much left that they aren't willing to do in public."
"Yes, but-,"
"Just shut up Doyle. I don't want to hear it." She stalked over to her door, stepping inside, slamming it shut behind her.
Rory had never been more embarrassed in her entire life, and that also included the day that Lindsay's mother announced to the entire town that she had slept with Dean. Her face was undoubtedly redder than the tee she had hastily jammed over her head, mercifully finding it hanging off the edge of the couch in easy reach. Doyle awkwardly stood there for a moment before turning his heel and leaving quickly. "Oh. My. God." She muttered, her face in her hands. Paris had never actually caught them like this before. Sure, the girl had walked in on her share of steamy make out sessions, but it wasn't as bad as she had made it sound, right? Paris was just exaggerating.
Right?
To make matters worse, Tristan apparently couldn't contain his laughter. He actually found this humiliating situation funny. He was shaking, the mirth coming off of him in waves. If Rory wasn't still sitting on his lap, she was sure he would be rolling on the floor.
"This is so not funny!" Rory yelled at him, hitting him hard in the shoulder. "Stop laughing!"
"I… and you… Paris said…" Tristan couldn't even manage a simple sentence, he was laughing so hard. That only made her angry. Only a few minutes ago, she had been completely humiliated, and here he was, laughing as if there was no tomorrow.
"I'm going to bed." Rory disentangled herself from his grasp, stomping over to her door. She went to slam it, but Tristan had followed her, and caught the door before it could close. "Get out of the way." Rory snapped, prying his fingers from the wood frame.
"You said you were going to bed." Tristan answered, replacing his grip with the other hand.
"Exactly. I'm going to bed." She reiterated. "I don't feel too much like being around you right now." Rory went back to removing his hands.
"Then where am I supposed to sleep?" He asked when she finally unclamped his fingers from the edge of her door, pushing him away.
An smile curved upon her lips, one that could only be described as evil. Gesturing towards the couch, she said, "Sofa City, Sweetheart."
Tristan groaned as the door finally slammed shut behind her. He flopped back on the couch. This was not how this night was supposed to go. "I'm caught in John Hughes hell." He grumbled, not liking his situation one bit.
Tomorrow, he would teach her what happened when she turned him away. Tristan smirked to himself, turning out the light on the end table next to him. It was going to be a lesson that Rory would never, ever forget.
And he was going to enjoy every single second of it.
So, what did you think?
Let me know, and review!