The two beers Jess had already consumed were not doing anything for his patience and she didn't seem to be picking up on all the clues of his annoyance- the irritable tapping of his fingers on the table, the condescending stare, or the continual glance at his watch- or was tactfully ignored them. He made her edgy, and as much as it bothered him, it showed. He wanted her gone, so that she couldn't see how he was pathetically spending Christmas alone, or recognize that a previously mentioned girlfriend was no longer in the picture, or so that he wouldn't blurt out anything stupid in his semi-intoxicated state.
"How did you find me?" he finally asked, as if he were in the Witness Protection Program. He had given her a cell phone number and Luke hadn't been to any of his residences since the 4 mattress rat-hole. The only thing he could think of was his mother's visit on the way back from the Ren Fair, the first time he lived with Laurence. She really had no reason to follow that trail, though, because that had been a year ago.
"Liz told me that you lived with someone named Laurence about a year ago, here. Since Laurence was your driver, I just assumed that if you weren't still here, he would know." She went to my mother...?
Of course she would have been able to sniff him out. Journalism majors have a nose for details.
"So this was premeditated." It was merely a vocalized realization, and, honestly, an attempt to make her uncomfortable.
"No. I made the phone calls that led me here about an hour ago." Rory almost scrubbed her bump with the thawing peas and then set the bag down on the table. His attempt had been successful, as the subsequent (and repeated) shifting in her seat evidenced.
"Urgent, then? Tell me, Rory, to what do I owe this visit? Why aren't you at home with your mother? Or galavanting around with Logan?"
Rory chuckled nervously, "In case you didn't pick up on it at dinner, my mother and I don't exactly get along anymore. And I am...or I was..."galavanting around" with Logan, although it's not as pretentious as you make it sound." Her tone was defensive, although not as much as he had expected. "Logan and I, we were going to divide our winter break between Sweden with Finn and Colin, and New York City, but we missed our flight."
"So you came here for entertainment and didn't bring blondie with you? That's too bad, we could have re-enacted Fight Club. He could be Tyler, I could be Jack, you can be Marla. My neighbor downstairs holds impromtu AA meetings in his room- we could have sat in."
"Taking that at anymore than a correlation of hair color would not bode well for you, Jess."
"Unless we shifted the focus to Marla. To her, Jack and Tyler are simply facets of the same person. The only difference is that one is real and one is not."
"Would you like to suggest that Logan is just a perfected, if unreal, substitute for you? Because if that's what you're implying, just come out and say it."
Jess brushed it off with an amused scoff. He hadn't really thought the argument through, and he wasn't about to tax himself on Christmas Eve, even for Rory.
"Aren't going to argue it? That's too bad...you might have been right." She abruptly removed herself from the chair, snatching the bag of peas up in the process. A swift shot towards the trashcan was successful in disposing them, if a little whimsical for her, and was quickly followed by a move to exit.
Jess was sufficiently alarmed and intrigued by the implication and nearly tripped as he jumped out of his seat to beat her to the door. He just made it, slamming the few inches she had opened closed with a hard shove from his right hand. The close proximity it produced was almost as disorienting as her previous suggestion and forced himself to watch her hand, still affixed to the doorknob, unable to meet her eyes.
Words lodged themselves in the back of his throat, constricted by doubt about who Rory was, fear of rejection, the ambiguity about Logan and all of his past experience in ressurecting what he had convinced himself to be lost.
"Curiousity killed the cat, Mariano. Are you sure you want to do this?" he asked himself, and saw that there was no doubt in Rory's grip. She was ready to let go of the doorknob, if only he'd ask him. This, compounded with Mena's last words, all the hope he thought he'd buried, and a nagging fire that pulsed at every nerve ending surged to dislodge an unwavering, and simply honest, "Stay, Rory."
Her grip slackened, but her fingertips remained connected. There was more doubt than Jess had allowed him to see.
"I don't know why I came here," she admitted in a soft whisper.
"Something happened with Logan, and now you're alone in a unfamiliar city on Christmas Eve." He didn't even let her respond, unwilling to make her admit it, "We'll argue, if you want...talk, even, or we can just watch cheezy claymation Christmas specials."
She relinquished the doorhandle and Jess allowed his eyes to greet her face. She was smiling, albeit weakly, but those cerulean eyes never left his. "Can we start with the claymation and move into talking? I'm not sure I could live with myself if I missed 'Rudolph.'"
---------------------------------
It started out innocently enough. After realizing that next 'Rudolph'
would not be rerunning for another hour, the two went foraging down the
street at the grocery and Jess' apartment acquired an obscene amount of
every type of junk food to go with their movie. She had made the affair
a classic movie night, despite the impromtu nature of its conception.
They watched it three times before the combination of what was left of Jess' case of beer and plumetting sugar levels lured them both into unconsciousness.
There had been no real talking, though. They avoided any topic of substance, and as a result, there had been little awkwardness past the intial walk to the grocery store. Otherwise, they joked, laughed, bantered and mocked with the chemistry of their adolescence. Jess almost let himself believe that the easiness of the relationship was in no way due to the copious amounts of alcohol they each consumed. Reality, of course, dictated otherwise.
It was still dark outside, at least for New York City, when Jess' eyes fluttered open. The exhaustion that kept his eyelids heavy signaled to Jess that it was merely the crick in his neck that woke him up, as opposed to sufficient fitful rest. The beginnings of a hangover were probably culpable as well. But Jess couldn't move to get himself comfortable. Rory had affixed her arms around his waist and fallen asleep on his chest. The ease of her breathing and the slight smile on her lips indicated that she was going to be better rested than he was in the morning.
Jess had a decision to make. He could either sacrifice his sleep to, pathetically, leave Rory's arms wrapped around him, and maybe even slip in an arm of his own, or gently wake her just enough to put her in his bed, and spare the awkwardness in the morning.
The most productive course of action, as Jess' slightly inebriated logic dictated, was to put her in his bed. He would be rested enough for any dialogue they needed to have, and, with any luck, she wouldn't even remember how she fell asleep, so there would be no reason for her to feel like she did something wrong. He could slip an arm around her to wake her up, or maybe even carry her to bed...He would, of course, then return directly to the couch. It was a low impact situation and it was the best of both worlds, even if it made Jess a little disgusted with himself.
So that is what he resolved to attempt to do.
Jess snaked an arm around her shoulder and whispered, "Rory...Rory..." as he shook her shoulder lightly.
Her hand slid across his stomach from his waist and collected a handful of his shirt which she tugged downward on. "Mmm...just a few more minutes," she requested raspily and nuzzled his chest before snuggling in closer.
He sucked in a breath, unable to believe the almost erotic tone coming out of such an innocent mouth, nevermind what she was doing to his shirt, or how her body was pressed firmly against his. It was all he could do not to just stay there instead of continuing his plan.
But he did press on because he perceived it as the 'right' thing to do. He shook her shoulder again, a more forcefully this time, and spoke a little louder. "Rory, Rory, wake up."
This time, her only verbal response was the haunting half-moan of his name. She released his shirt and slid her hand underneath it, delicately raking her fingernails over the definitions in his stomach. Jess swallowed and look down at her face, to see her looking up at him, eyes half-often. It was all he could do to keep his breathing stable, nevermind actually think about what was happening or determine how awake she was: Did she think this was just a dream? Did she know what she was doing?
She pulled her other hand out from behind him and ran it up his arm, to his shoulder and then his neck, leading him down to meet her mouth. Her feet fel from the other end of the couch and she situated herself better so that she was sitting up next to him.
Jess allowed his hands to clutch her now-available waist and returned her kiss. It was an uncomplicated meshing of lips, free of meditation. Their tongues dueled, fueled by raw and hungry unchecked emotion. They were both lost in one another, desperate to close every inch between them and reluctant to open one with the parting of their lips, even to breathe. Hands roved and tugged frustratedly at the garments between them. Names that would have been cried out fell directly into the mouth of their owner.
He would look back on it later and call it 'blissfully dizzy.'
The intensity of emotion was not conducive for a stoic situation, however. Before long, Rory was in his lap, working magic on his neck while he entangled his fingers in her hair. Shortly thereafter, he was missing a shirt.
It wasn't until she lost her first article of clothing, though, that, surprisingly, his senses came to him. She was sitting back, pulling her shirt over her head when it hit him that this was Rory Gilmore. Rory Gilmore was nearly topless and pulling at his belt. Rory Gilmore with a boyfriend. Rory Gilmore, who, if he ever wanted a legitimate chance with, he could not have sex with. At least not now.
A/N: Do they, or don't they?...Also, if anyone thinks I should up the rating, please let me know. I tried not to be too explicit, but I'm a little unsure about whether this crosses the line or not.