Title: What Lies Within Us
Chp. 14 And It Comes Full Circle
Disclaimer: I don't own. Duh.
Introduction: I know I'm delusional….but Trory. Well, obviously not at first because that would be too easy, but I wanted to clarify. Basically set in the present, maybe like a year ahead, slightly altered to make things work. Oh, side note, and although this fic started before viewing of 'wedding bell blues', assume Rory and Logan got together in similar matter (they're just not having sex), and decided on some 'strings' eventually. Stuff is slightly diff, see rest of fic.
Rating: TAKE NOTE: THE RATING FOR THE LAST HALF OF THE CHAPTER IS "M" ACCORDING TO NEW SITE RATING GUIDELINES. You have been warned. It wasn't even going to be that 'm' when I first started writing, more euphemistic than anything. But it is definitely 'm' now. Do not read if you are too young, or are offended by adult material. If you want to read up to the more adult stuff, stop about where there is the line 'chalk it up to PMS or something', a fairly hard to miss statement. I hate to put in a warning cause it spoils what's coming up, but necessary when you're upping the rating.
Authors Note: Very glad to be back with internet access, yeah! The result is a very long chapter (a couple thousand more words than usual, I checked). I do appreciate reviews etc, especially since I am nervous about writing a chapter of this (ahem) nature. I like to know if people are enjoying the story, but I suppose I can stomach criticism as well.
"You could come," Rory offered to her mother as Lorelai sat on the bed, watching her daughter get ready.
As she made the scoffing noise only she was capable of, Lorelai replied, "Yeah, right. And then pigs will fly, hell will freeze over, and Luke won't wear a baseball cap to run the diner."
Rory shot her mother a look over her shoulder before she leaned closer to the mirror and began to apply her mascara, "The sarcasm was really necessary. I couldn't get the point that you don't want to go when you practically gagged at the suggestion when grandma offered."
Lorelai stood up and went over to rummage through her daughter's collection of various lipsticks as she said, "I can't believe you said yes to going, Rory. You're not a 60 yr old grandmother. You should be out enjoying yourself, clubbing or something, not attending a stuffy old party at the Gilmore mansion."
As Rory ran the mascara brush through her lashes one last time, she laughed a little, smudging her makeup. "This is Stars Hollow mom; the most happening place tonight for New Year's is Miss Patty's, where I know you and Luke are going. Not only is that not the most hip place, I don't think I'm going to subject Logan or Tristan to the depraved women of Stars Hollow at an event where alcohol will be involved." And Logan would look on deprecatingly for every minute of it. Her acceptance of the invitation to her grandparents had been in part because she knew it was the only type of evening she could provide where he would be happy.
"Ah, the love triangle of the season," Lorelai quipped as she picked out a subtle red lipstick and handed it to Rory who glared at her as she grabbed it. "How's that developing by the way?"
Rory didn't bother to respond to her mothers teasing as she turned back to the mirror. She had never told Lorelai about the 'almost kisses', as she now referred to them in her mind. She wasn't quite sure why she hadn't. Normally, she told her mother everything.
Maybe it was because she had never even talked to Tristan about what had almost happened. It wasn't because it was a topic that was hard to bring up, even though it was. What were you supposed to say when you weren't even sure what was going on? It was because she had never had the chance. Not because she was chicken, and making up excuses. It was because he had been subtly avoiding her, ever since that day she had taken him over to Luke's. Nothing overt, just that whenever he was with them he had made a point never to be alone with her; never given her a chance to bring up the topic she knew had to be explored. They hadn't even had a real conversation in days. She was trying to pretend that his avoidance didn't hurt, but she strongly believed that this was his way of letting her down gently, of trying to tell her there would be nothing between them.
Probably a large part of the reason she had avoided discussing the whole scenario with her mother was the conflict she felt inside. Not conflict over her feelings for Tristan; she had accepted those by now. It was more that, even if Tristan never returned the sentiment and they never got together, she didn't know if she could stay with Logan. There had always been something partially lacking in their relationship, but she had just chalked that up to the way adult relationships were supposed to be. There were things you didn't like about your partner, but relationships were about compromise. That sense of belonging with another person was just something you read about in romance novels, it had no place in real life.
Until now, it hadn't felt like settling, but she couldn't be sure anymore. Even if Tristan wasn't the love of her life she like all girls wanted, she knew there was something lacking in between her and Logan, and she was scared she was missing the opportunity to see if there was something more for her out there.
As she saw her Lorelai's reflection in the mirror behind her, she knew deep down she could trust her mother with anything she needed to talk about. But Lorelai was far from an unbiased observer. Maybe she was being unfair to her mother, assuming she couldn't be empathetic to Rory's turmoil, but she knew Lorelai's first instinct would be to tell her daughter to chuck Logan immediately.
"There's no triangle mom," she told her mother, carefully applying the lipstick Lorelai had handed her, knowing that maybe in all technicality that was the truth. If Tristan didn't want there to be more between them, the only triangle was between her, Logan, and her conflicted desires.
She knew her mother didn't believe a word of it, but Lorelai chose not to comment on the whopping lie that had come out Rory's mouth. "You probably made the right call not bringing Tristan at least to Miss Parry's tonight. She was telling me all about watching him help Luke carry some heavy boxes out of the diner yesterday. I think that woman has entertained many a fantasy about that boy in his uniform, and out of it."
Rory hoped her mother couldn't see the tell-tale blush that graced her cheeks as she knew that, especially lately, she had many of the same fantasies about Tristan herself. It was usually lying in bed at night that her thoughts drifted to him. Sometimes mundane, sometimes erotic, her thoughts were always a betrayal to her actual boyfriend. But she just made a non-committal sound at her mother's observation.
Lorelai gave up trying to draw her daughter into conversation. It had been harder and harder to do lately. "I'll see you before you leave," she told Rory, heading towards the door with a bit of a sigh. "I've got to get dressed myself before we head out. I have this nice slutty little number I bought for my birthday."
"We'll try and be home late," Rory told her mother dryly, causing Lorelai to laugh as she left the room.
She stared at her reflection in the mirror for a moment. She always felt like a doll when she applied makeup. She hated how pale she looked, and lipstick seemed to look garish in comparison. She never used to worry about things like that so much. She was comfortable in her own skin. But since she had begun to see Logan she obsessed about makeup and appearances a lot more. It wasn't fair to lay the blame at his door, he was good with the compliments. It was more the world she had to be a part of when she was with him. Sometimes it felt like the pressures of Friday-night dinners every day, except with more emphasis on looking beautiful. She styled her hair more than she ever had before; ponytails just didn't seem appropriate anymore. Sighing, she fiddled with the one perfect curl that had fallen in front of her face.
She took the necklace that Logan had given her from her jewellery box on her dresser. It was really only the second time she had the opportunity to wear it since he had given it to her, and there was no reason not to today. But as she tried to fasten it around her neck, it was awkward to try and clasp at the back.
Knowing it was too late to grab her mother, she stepped out of her room, knowing she looked a little ridiculous as she still had socks on with her dress as she had yet to change into her pantyhose and shoes. Tristan was sitting on the couch, already dressed in his tux and ready to go.
By his own design, it was the first time they had been alone together in nearly a week, and she stopped a little short, but had long since resigned herself to acting normal around him. "Is Logan around?" she asked, trying to make her voice sound casual.
"Bathroom," Tristan indicated the room beside her, and allowed a faint smirk to cross his face, "Styling his hair." She knew what that look meant; she knew exactly how long it took Logan to get the carefree spiked look he tended to go for.
"Do you mind?" she asked a little awkwardly, indicating the necklace she held in her hand.
He seemed to hesitate before he shook his head and got up to walk over to her. As he gently took the necklace from her outstretched hand, she turned and held up her hair so that he could fasten it around her neck. As he looped the necklace around her neck so that it rested gently on her skin before he fastened it, she had the passing thought that maybe even such a small act hadn't been a good idea. Normally she wasn't the sort of girl who got caught up in these sorts of feelings. Even her brief sexual history, while enjoyable, had never been very consuming. But even with this, she was aware of everything about him. She felt the slight brush of his hands over her neck and hair as he fiddled with the clasp. She was aware of the slight smell of aftershave, not masked by any cologne. And, for one brief moment, she even imagined she could feel his breath, warm on her neck and she closed her eyes.
But the whole exchange took probably not more than a second, and she could feel him back hurriedly away as soon as he was done. She didn't turn for a moment, not quite sure why the whole exchange made her eyes wet slightly with tears. She calmed herself, both for the sake of pride and for the sake of her makeup.
"Thank you," she told him with all the dignity she could muster before she headed back to her room to finish dressing, throwing what she hoped was a bland smile his way.
Tristan sat on the couch, staring at his hands, long after she had left the room. He could hear Logan fussing around in the bathroom, and he wished like hell Logan had been out here when Rory had come for help.
He knew that she was hurt by his avoidance of her over the past week, he wasn't blind. But, like the coward he was, he was taking the easy way out. If they had the opportunity to be alone, to really talk, she was going to bring up the subject of him nearly kissing her, he knew it. And after that afternoon at Luke's, there was no way they weren't both aware of what had almost happened. But, no matter her reaction to it, he didn't want to have that conversation, force the issue. Because he didn't think he had the acting skills to lie about his feelings to her. He couldn't clasp a fucking necklace on for her without being attracted. Being near to her, he had come so close to kissing the graceful curve of her neck as she had held her hair swept aside. He had snapped himself out of that urge barely in time to pull away.
Tristan wanted to avoid that conversation about the two of them like the plague, but he knew they couldn't go on the way that they were. She was being hurt by it all, the last thing he wanted. He wished he knew what she was feeling without really asking, but her thoughts were a mystery. He could only see the slight sheen of tears in her eyes as she walked away from him tonight. He wanted at least some of their friendship back, some sense of camaraderie, even if that was its own torture.
He was still sitting there by himself when she came back into the room, fully dressed for the evening. Even without looking, he could hear her footsteps pause before she came into the room to join him, and he looked up to greet her.
"You look beautiful," the words were out of his mouth before he could stop them.
Rory wanted to be pleased by his words, but they just led to the turmoil she was feeling. She had convinced herself that he felt nothing for her, that whatever temporary attraction he had felt was passed. She had accepted that she was the one with the traitorous feelings, and her alone. But then when he looked at her like that, with his gaze intent, and called her beautiful in a low husky tone, she let herself believe for a moment that there was more there.
She closed her eyes for a moment before replying. "Tristan, I….."
Whatever she had been going to say was cut off by Logan emerging from the washroom, and just before she turned to face him, she could see the relief that shot across Tristan's face and she felt her heart clench inside. "Ready to go?" she asked Logan, handsome in his tux, knowing he would never notice the slight catch in her voice.
He nodded, making one last flick through his hair with his fingers. He looked perfectly pressed, perfectly made up. And when Logan looked at her, he smiled and held out his hand. As she got up to take his hand, it was at that point that she reminded herself that Logan was her boyfriend, and he cared for her. And if he wasn't perfect, who was? She had her own faults. She had no right to betray him. She cared about him, and he did about her in his own way.
Rory kissed him quickly on the lips, before moving to grab her jacket, as if to affirm her feelings and their relationship. She could tell he was a little startled as she had barely given him the time of day for the past week, but he didn't question it, simply handing Rory her gloves.
"We'll take my car," Rory told him with a smile, slipping her hand into his, not looking at Tristan. Her affectionate behaviour had nothing to do with making him jealous; it was for herself, trying to convince herself of the depth of her feelings for Logan and the fact that whatever she thought she felt for Tristan was a passing madness.
Tristan stood up and slipped into the formal coat he had borrowed from Luke. Despite being in the military for years, it hung loosely off him as Luke was a larger man. But it looked more appropriate than the casual jackets he owned now. "I'll take the backseat," was all he said shortly as he passed them, looking into each other's eyes, even though that was a foregone conclusion.
Emily opened the door to find the three of them standing there. "Rory!" her voice was happy as she briefly embraced her granddaughter as she led the three of them inside.
"Emily," Logan's words were warm as he gave her hands a clasp, and she favoured him with a bright smile. Tristan, feeling superfluous, only nodded his greeting and looked on.
"Logan," she chided as she motioned a maid to take their coats. "We haven't seen you in a long time. You should come more often. Richard loves when you come to dinner." It was obvious that despite Lorelai's misgivings Logan was a welcome presence in the elder Gilmore house. "Now, come in. Your parents aren't here yet, but it's early. They were never ones to make an early appearance."
Logan smiled, "Fashionably late is the Huntzberger motto," he quipped easily, causing Emily to laugh.
"Come in," she motioned to the three of them after they were divested of their coats.
Rory knew her grandparents party, while as high society as the Huntzberger's Christmas affair, was not even in the same class. But she liked it that way. Without the very imposing house, and the fact she had been coming to her grandparents for years, she could almost feel comfortable at events here. Almost.
She never knew how they managed to find adequate room, but despite the many people sitting or mingling, they had found room for dancing in their house, and a string quartet was playing music for the guests to dance to. No DJ was adequate for Emily Gilmore, as she always refused to be outdone.
"I'll speak with you in a bit," Emily told Rory, as she saw a maid waving desperately across the room. "But it seems there's been some sort of crisis with the catering. Idiots. It's not even a full fledged dinner. It shouldn't be that hard. But somehow they've managed to screw up. You'll excuse me, dear?" And, as she walked away, she added, "The bar has been set up in the dining room."
Even though he knew this was not an event at which one got slammed, Tristan thought a drink was an excellent idea. "Can I get the two of you anything?" he asked the question, wanting to get away from the two of them.
"I'd have some white wine," Rory told him what she wanted, without even looking at him, her gaze on Logan. And he felt hurt a little even though he knew it was his own fault.
"Nothing for me, thanks," As Logan answered, Tristan watched him slip his arm around Rory's waist, and it was all he could do not to dart away quickly then and there. He forced his movements to be slow and not hasty.
"Scotch, and a white wine," he told the bartender as he walked up, and the man nodded and began to pour.
As he waited for his order, he heard his name being called, and he turned, half afraid to see his father there. But, it was only Richard, Rory's grandfather. "Hello sir," he held out his hand and shook the man's hand as he walked up. "Nice party." Even as he said the words he wanted to kick himself, knowing it sounded like a lame compliment.
But Richard just laughed and clapped his hand on Tristan's shoulder. "Emily's a wonder at these things. Couldn't be bothered myself, but I like the result all the same." He tossed his order of a gin and tonic to the bartender. "Having a good time?" he asked as he turned back to Tristan.
"Just got here," Tristan told him by way of explanation as the bartender placed the drinks on the bar, but knowing there was no way he would be enjoying the evening.
Richard was about to say something more, but a maid came up and whispered in his ear before pulling discretely away. He looked up, a little troubled, at Tristan. "I assume you came with Rory and Logan."
He nodded as he grabbed his drinks off the bar, "I was just heading back to them."
"Apparently Logan's father is on the phone," Richard explained, "And needs to talk to Logan immediately. I hope it's nothing too serious. Could you tell him he can take the call in my office?"
Tristan nodded his agreement, acknowledging Richard's request before he started to weave his way among the guests back to Logan and Rory. He stopped when he was a few feet away, watching them together. She was smiling as she let his hand cup her neck. She wasn't given to public displays of affection even before, and now he watched as Logan lowered his lips to hers in the middle of the crowd.
He forced himself to walk up to them, and tried to ignore the fact he was consciously aware of the feel of her skin as their hands brushed when she took the glass of wine from him. "I just ran into Richard," he directed his attention towards Logan, "He told me your father is on the phone, looking to speak to you immediately. He said to take the call in his office."
"I hope nothing's wrong," Rory's voice was concerned as he disengaged himself from her arms.
"I'll be right back," Logan promised, kissing her quickly before rushing off to take the phone call.
They stood in an awkward silence after he left, not sure what to say to one another. Unnoticing, Tristan downed his drink in a single gulp, leaving himself with nothing to fiddle with while they waited.
"I've enjoyed staying at Luke's, be sure to thank him and your mother again for me." Was all he could think of to say to her as he examined the ice in his glass. He had said as much before to all of them. Both because it was polite, and because it was the truth.
"It gave you enough opportunities to avoid me," he could hear the bitterness in her voice as his head snapped up. But before he could come up with a believable enough denial, Logan walked back up to them.
"I have to go," he told Rory, and his voice was grim.
"What's wrong?" she asked, placing a hand on his arm.
"Nothing really," he explained with a sigh. "It's my grandfather. He collapsed walking again." At Rory's exclamation of horror, he added quickly, "No, it's not a very large deal. He's just a stubborn old man who refuses to use a cane or walker, and has a tendency to lose his balance at times. He's fine, we know he's fine, he knows he's fine, but my mother has a tendency to believe he's dying every time. She summons doctors, but they all the same thing, it's just old age. However, every time she thinks he's dying, and she summons the family to his bedside."
"Still," Rory replied, looking for somewhere to put her drink, "I should go with you."
He shook his head, and took her hand, "Really Rory, don't. Stay, enjoy your grandparent's party. I'll be back at your mother's before the morning. It'll just take a couple of hours for a veritable team of doctors to assure my mother that my grandfather is not going to die, and will likely outlive us all."
"If you're sure…." She looked undecided.
"I am." He told her positively, kissing her quickly. "Don't worry about it. I'll be careful not to wake you all up when I get back."
They watched him weave his way to the door, and Tristan could see the exact point that Rory realized that she was stuck with him for the night. At least he could only assume it was that that put the look of dismay on her face, but he couldn't be sure.
Rory knew this was probably the worst thing that could happen that evening. She was torn between the hurt she had been nursing earlier at Tristan's avoidance, and the anger at him she was allowing to fester. But she convinced herself she could get past it, as it was obviously what he wanted. Besides, she was going to be focused on Logan now. He deserved that much. "Let's find my grandfather," she told him, forcing her tone to be pleasant. "I haven't seen him yet."
It hadn't even reached the stroke of midnight yet when Tristan found himself standing beside Rory against a side wall, not speaking. As there wasn't an abundance of chairs, they had long since surrendered any hope of sitting to the older members of the crowd which made up the majority.
They had made polite chit-chat for most of the evening, never delving beyond that. Tristan convinced himself this was a good thing. They could co-exist without hurt and animosity. But he knew that Rory was hiding her underlying feelings well; her comments earlier had proved she wasn't as okay with him as she was pretending to be now. "The musicians are good." He finally said to fill the silence, sipping at the drink he held in his hands.
He knew one of them had made that observation already, but she simply responded, "Yes, they are good," in a distant voice, with the polite smile on her face that he had come to despise over the course of the evening.
Tristan watched as Emily walked up to them. "Having a good time?" she asked, putting an arm around Rory, and they both nodded, plastic smiles affixed to their faces.
"You should dance," she motioned towards the area where couples were moving to the music. "It can't be exciting standing here with nothing to do."
"We're fine," Rory protested firmly, resisting her grandmother's slight nudging towards Tristan. She knew Emily saw no problem in the two of them dancing. They were just two young people with nothing better to do.
"Really Mrs. Gilmore, we're fine," Tristan echoed Rory's words.
"Nonsense," Emily told them as she practically shoved the two of them together and prodded them towards the dancing area. "This may not be that hip-hop stuff that's popular nowadays, but you both are capable of more than break dancing. Now come on, even a waltz has to be preferable to standing off in the corner of the room."
Rory went out onto the dance floor with Tristan, only as a means to appease your grandmother. "One dance," he wasn't sure if her words were supposed to be as menacing as they sounded when she placed her hand in his.
They began to move to the music, in synch with one another. He never would have admitted it to anyone he knew, but Tristan had always felt more comfortable with this type of dancing than the type one did in clubs. The waltz had structure, and steps; he had never had the sense of rhythm to dance of his own accord. As a teenager he had done some good grinding dances with girls, but that was all he could manage.
He could feel the tension that was practically vibrating through Rory as they danced. She refused to relax even an iota, keeping herself perfectly rigid in his arms as they moved around the floor. The distance between them never decreased an inch.
Unfairly to her, he increased the pressure slightly on the hand that rested in the small of her back, forcing her to move a little closer. He wanted to close his eyes and pretend this was something more than it was, but he could still feel her, rigid and unflexing. But he was surprised a moment later when she let herself get closer, felt her relax, and felt their legs brush over and over as they moved around the dance floor. As far as encounters went, it was fairly platonic, but he could feel it stir him as any of the most erotic embraces he had ever had. They were so close her face was almost brushing his chest.
When the music stopped suddenly, he closed his eyes momentarily to fight the disappointment, but she took only a step back, keeping them in close proximity. Even as one of the musicians spoke into the microphone to announce the countdown to midnight, and waiters appeared around the room, handing out flutes of champagne, Tristan and Rory never took their eyes from each other, even as they grabbed two from the tray.
"Ten……….!" He could see the conflict crossing her face as she stared at him. He knew that he was toying with her emotions, but when they were dancing he hadn't been able to stop himself from pulling her closer.
"Five………!" Rory couldn't decide if she wanted midnight to come quickly, or not at all. Despite her resolve of the entire evening, she couldn't help but desire with all that was in her that he would kiss her when it struck midnight. She didn't care if it was advised or not, she just wanted it.
"Happy New Year!"
When the words rang out, signalling the striking of midnight, Tristan knew that despite the desire coursing through him he would have backed away like he had done so many times before. But he got carried away in the moment as couples embraced around him, and she looked him at him with unblinking eyes. So, as the strains of Auld Lang Syne broke out around them, he took the glass of champagne from her hands, set it on the floor with his, and leaned forward towards her.
He let his lips brush over hers gently a couple times before deepening the kiss. He could feel her hands reach up hesitantly, and entwine in his hair. He was aware of every aspect of the moment, from the feel of the skin of her cheek beneath his hand, to the multitude of sounds in the background. The kiss didn't block out the world around them, it sharpened it. And there, in the middle of her grandparent's house, as guests milled around them, singing along to the traditional song and giving good wishes to one another, he kissed Rory Gilmore as if he were dying. And she kissed him back with all she was worth. At that point he learned any kiss he ever had could not compare to the sensations when she was in his arms.
He knew time had passed, possibly too much, when she gently pushed herself back from him, breathing heavily. She didn't say anything, just let her forehead rest against his, and was grateful only a few busybodies had taken notice of them. Tristan wanted to say something, to brush it off as the traditional New Year's kiss, but he knew any such attempt would be foolish. Neither of them was that stupid. He expected her to say something, to at the very least berate him for doing what he had, and for doing it here, but she didn't. "Let's say goodbye to my grandparents," was all she told him quietly, but she didn't release his hand as they turned to go.
The ride back to Stars Hollow was silent save for the radio station playing over the speakers in her car. Tristan didn't know what he should say, what would make this go away. He kept sneaking glances over at Rory, watching her in the moonlight as she drove. But she never looked his way, just kept staring straight ahead at the road, not saying anything. He was surprised she hadn't used this opportunity to talk. In the passengers seat of the car he had no escape.
When they were finally driving down the main street towards Luke's, the town was silent around them. As the population of the town wasn't exactly youthful, celebrations of the New Year had ended very shortly after midnight. Even the gathering at Miss Patty's had broken up. There was nobody on the streets as they drove by. Rory pulled up in front of Luke's and set the car into park.
Tristan was about to say something flip and get out of the car, already making plans about how he would hitchhike back to Yale in the morning and spend the next many years avoiding Rory and Logan. But, Rory was already unbuckling her seatbelt and getting out of the car, and he knew she was planning on coming in to Luke's with him.
Rory didn't even bother plugging the meter as they both exited the car, she knew in Stars Hollow nobody would be checking at this time of night, holiday or not. And the five dollar parking tickets they handed out weren't as much of a deterrent as Taylor thought they were. She stood behind Tristan, her hands in the pocket of her jacket to ward them off from the chill. She had forgotten her gloves at her grandparents. Her mind at been on other things, to say the least.
She followed Tristan into Luke's, just standing there watching as he locked the door behind them, and quickly walked to the back to disarm the alarm. He came out quickly, but stopped behind the counter, not looking at her, and not making any motion to go upstairs. So, they would have to do this here.
"We need to talk about this…us," was all she chose to say, her words soft, as she simply walked over and sat down on a stool at the counter.
She watched as he refused to look at her, even now. And she knew she would be doing most of the talking. "Tonight….the other nights….but tonight…we can't just ignore it happened."
"Why not?" she could hear the slight desperation in his voice as Tristan gave a rather bitter laugh. He still stood rather behind the counter, not coming any closer to her.
She closed her eyes as if in response to the tone in his voice. Taken like that, she would go back to her original assumption that he felt nothing for her, that he had just been trying to ease her down gently by avoiding her, but after that kiss tonight she knew he wasn't as indifferent as all that. She knew that passion could be faked, kisses weren't always honest, but she didn't think she was deluding herself in believing something real had passed between them. So, she continued on determinedly, "We kissed Tristan, and even I know that wasn't some friendly New Year's peck. It was more than that, and even you can't pretend otherwise."
"Logan's my friend Rory," Tristan gave that as his excuse, knowing it was only a very small part of why he was trying to avoid a relationship with her, but hoping she would take it at face value. "It's not hard. We just never mention tonight again, and pretend it never happened."
Rory nodded slowly, knowing with that she was doing tonight she was betraying a good guy. Maybe he wasn't the one she was meant to be with, but Logan wasn't a bad person. It had just become all too clear tonight that he wasn't the one for her. "We could," she let the words out softly, then lifted her head and looked directly at him, "But I'm not sure that I want to."
Tristan knew that he had done both of them a disservice by sticking around in her life at all. As he lifted his head, and locked eyes with her, he knew that she had definite feelings for him, which thrilled him even as it was what he wanted to avoid. "Rory….." he let the words trail off softly and just shook his head.
He watched as she took a shaky breath. She seemed to gather courage before she spoke again, and uttered the words that he knew he desperately wanted to hear, even if he tried to discourage them. "I have feelings for you Tristan; this isn't just some passing attraction, it's more than that on my part. I didn't plan on this happening, I was with Logan. But stuff like this can't be planned. I care for Logan, I always will, but I care for you one hell of a lot more."
She looked at him expectantly, wanting him to say something, but he just stood silently, so she continued, "After those few times you had almost kissed me, but then avoided me, I had convinced myself that you felt nothing, it had just been a momentary lapse in judgement for you. But don't tell me that the kiss tonight meant nothing. It had to, it can't just all have been on my part. It had to." She repeated that refrain again, trying to reassure herself.
Tristan wanted to believe that he was strong, but that image had been shot all too hell in the past couple days. He had given in to so many urges that should have been ignored, so many desires that he shouldn't even have had. And as he watched tears fill her eyes when he didn't respond to her declaration, he knew that he was way too weak, that when presented with direct temptation he couldn't walk away.
Rory just nodded, starting to cry softly, lowering her eyes from his when he still said nothing. "I see," she had to force the words out past her constricted throat. "It's okay, don't worry. I should understand this sort of thing by now, I'm old enough. A kiss doesn't mean something to everyone this way it does to me. It doesn't promise anything. Forget I said anything. Chalk it up to PMS or whatever you want to. We'll do what you want, forget tonight ever happened. You don't have to jeopardize your friendship with Logan over me."
And as a tear spilled over onto her cheek, she felt Tristan's hand, gentle but firm upon her face, and she looked up at him. "It meant something to me too," the words were husky, spoken as if they were difficult to say, but she didn't care, and he was leaning forward to kiss her as she sat on the stool.
The kiss was different from the one at the party. She had thought that was amazing, but this took it to a different level. It made her see how restrained they had been there. Despite the tears that still wet her face, this felt like nothing she had never shared with a boy. She stood up, wrapping her arms around his neck. No kiss had ever made her feel this good, this alive before. All she wanted to do was get closer to him, as close as two people could get. She pressed against him, felt his hands threading through her hair as his tongue slid into her mouth. She wanted to moan at the sensations he evoked in her.
Tristan knew that this was crazy, but he couldn't stop, didn't want to stop. This felt to right, like everything he ever wanted was being handed to him in one package. And she was more than a willing participant, returning his kisses eagerly, and she willingly acquiesced when he slid her jacket from her shoulders, letting it fall to the floor. She returned the favour, quickly divesting him of the large jacket he had borrowed from Luke. He didn't know how far tonight was going, knew simply taking off their jackets meant nothing, but he was getting carried away in the moment.
He felt a hint of surprise run through him when she broke away, breathing heavily, to slide the jacket of his tux over his arms. Not caring, he let it too fall to the floor, joining the overcoat there. He quickly tore off the little bowtie that went with the tux, feeling as if it were choking him. Tristan could only watch as she slid off the little jacket that went over her dress.
And as she wrapped her arms around him and kissed him again, he lifted her up onto the counter so they were at a more equal height. He pulled away slightly to look into her eyes, as they looked straight at him, as if to reassure himself that this was really happening, it wasn't some fantasy. But she wouldn't let him back away, just put her hand to the back of his head and drew him closer.
Rory felt his hand cup her right breast and gently stroke it, and even though it was still over her dress she felt the arousal shoot right through her. This was the passion she had never really felt before. She had enjoyed sex with Dean; they were two healthy young adults, it was natural. But it had been nothing more than the physical, the chemical. There wasn't this overwhelming passion that threatened to consume her. Logan had never instilled the temptation in her that she got from a single kiss with Tristan. This didn't feel wrong, it didn't feel illicit. It felt right in more ways than she could count. As his kiss trailed down from her neck, and he pushed aside the strap of her dress and her bra to kiss her shoulder, she could only revel in the feelings and arch her neck for greater access.
But it was as his hand slid up her still pantyhose-covered leg, under the skirt of her dress, and rested on her upper thigh, causing her to lean back and knock off the donut tray, that some sensible thoughts broke through, and she pushed him away slightly, saying "Tristan…wait."
He stopped instantaneously. Both of them had said nothing up until this point, scared to break the spell that was between them. But even with her words he made no move to back away, or deny her. She had stopped him only because she had realized where they were. On the counter, in Luke's Diner, visible to the outside world through the windows that were uncovered. It didn't matter if it was the middle of the night, they couldn't do this here. And, as he looked around, his hair mussed from her hands, Tristan realized the same thing.
He started to step away then and she grabbed his hand. "Let me stay the night, with you," she looked directly into his eyes as she said it, not wanting there to be any misunderstanding with this, what she wanted. She wanted it all, right now, she didn't want to wait. Wanted simply to surrender to all he was evoking in her. And she smiled as he simply nodded and gathered their clothes from the ground around them.
She followed him up the stairs, not saying anything further. He unlocked the door to Luke's apartment, and simply dropped their stuff by the door when he got inside. She looked at him for a moment, about to turn shy, scared the moment was lost, but she barely had time to breathe before he took the one step needed to be beside her, kissing her, and she was again swept away by her feelings for him.
Rory could feel his hand reach behind her back to slowly slide down the zipper of her dress, but she didn't pull away, just moved closer to make it easier for him. And when he pulled away slightly to let her dress drop to the floor, she forced herself not to be self-conscious. Sex with Dean had been done beneath the covers, neither one of them really seeing the other naked. Logan had never seen her in anything less than her bra. She was tempted to dive onto the bed, but then she saw him looking at her, saw the arrested expression on his face, and suddenly she felt more beautiful than she ever had before.
"You are amazing," Tristan told her assuredly as he stepped closer to her again. And she was. Her beauty was just part of the package. And his comment made her blush in a way that even her standing there in nothing but her underwear hadn't been able to do. He watched as she quickly slipped off the pantyhose that she had worn, the shear smoky things fluttering away as she let them go. And then she was in nothing but the matching black lace bra and panties she had worn beneath her dress.
As he reached for her, she simply began to unbutton the shirt he wore, and as she slid it from his shoulders he moved to extinguish the lights in the apartment. But even as he reached for the light switch, she stopped him. "I want to see you too," she admonished gently, sliding the shirt completely off him.
Helplessly, he did nothing but let her. The scars she had seen already, but there was no need to make them so obvious in the light that fell on him. The one time he had slept with a girl since his tour of duty, she had been repelled by them, and they weren't pretty. He was faced with the sight of them in the mirror every day. He didn't want to see the look of repulsion on Rory's face when his chest and back were bared before her, didn't want to feel her hesitate to touch him anymore.
The sight of his scars again shook Rory as they had the first time she had seen them. The secrets that had caused problems between them before. But now wasn't the time for explanations or recriminations. She could see him close his eyes as she slid his shirt off, and clench as if expecting some attack. As the shirt fell, forgotten, to the ground, she let her hand run over his chest.
"Did you think I would be shocked and repulsed?" she asked softly, pressing soft kisses to the mostly healed wounds on his chest even as she felt her eyes fill with tears. "All I care about is that you were hurt, badly, and that hurts me too. They're a part of who you are now, I'm not going to back away from you because of them." And she walked around the walk of him and let her lips trail softly over the scar on his back as well. "Part of the kiss and make it better philosophy," she tried to make her words light as she walked back around in front of him while he still held motionless. She hesitated, wondering if it were too sappy, but raised herself up on her toes and pressed her lips to his forehead as well.
When he kissed her again it was almost violent in its intensity. Not wanting to break apart, even for a moment, she unbuckled his belt and let his pants fall to the floor even as they kissed. And he obligingly stepped out of them and kicked them aside, standing there in nothing but his boxers. They continued to kiss and it was as if they were hesitating, each unsure if they should be the first one to divest the other of their underwear.
He pressed her firmly against the wall, and she was almost grateful for the support when he began to kiss down her neck towards her breasts. She was amazed by how good it felt when he unhooked her bra and tossed it aside, letting his lips trail over her right breast, and then took it in his mouth. Nobody had ever done that to her before. This wasn't some quiet coupling that was almost innocent in its lack of eroticism. This wasn't dirty, but it was all-consuming.
"Bed," she managed to choke out the word, even as she let out a moan. She had always assumed she wasn't one of those overly passionate people. She was never one for the sexy sounds in bed.
Rory considered it shallow, but she was thrilled with his strength when he picked her up and carried her over to the bed, laying her down before he came over her."You can't understand how much I want you right now," the words were truthful as he hooked his finger gently in her panties and slid them down her legs, watching her intently has he did so. Rory did blush at being so open to his gaze, lying there on the blankets. But she simply slid his boxers down so they were both exposed to each other.
As his hand slid up her inner thigh she knew what his intent was. It was impossible not to. She forced herself to relax, as she had never been all the comfortable with this. But when he slid one finger inside her, relaxation become impossible; not because she was nervous, but because it felt so good. And as he stroked gently, she made a guttural sound in the back of her throat and fell back against the pillows.
Tristan loved watching how she responded to him, to his touch. Even with all the attraction he had felt for her, both in high school and now, he had never pictured her so responsive. Maybe he was biased, maybe it was the heat of the moment, but he wouldn't change her reactions for any other response. He slipped another finger inside her, watching her arch up and gasp. Almost regretfully he pulled his hand from her, earning a sound of disappointment from her as he withdrew. Even if it was selfish of him, he wanted the first time he brought her to climax to be with him inside her.
She was surprised when he grabbed a condom out of the drawer beside the bed. Surprised that she hadn't thought more about it. She was on the pill, but she wasn't about to have sex without protection. But she was also surprised he had been expecting something to happen.
"It's Luke's, not mine," he explained a little ruefully when she looked pointedly at the drawer.
"Oh……ewww," Rory replied when the reality of that set in. Condoms Luke used with her mother.
Tristan arched his eyebrows even as he held up the foil package in his fingers. "Try not to let it kill the mood," he told her dryly, scared her thoughts would kill her arousal.
But as Rory looked at Tristan, obviously aroused, her mother and Luke were the farthest things from her mind. "Fat chance," she replied in what she hoped was a sensual tone, knowing she surprised him a little when she grabbed the condom from his hand. She struggled a little with the wrapping, but got it open and slid it slowly on him, almost teasing him as she went. When she was done she was tempted to slide herself on top of him, but that was one bridge she wasn't ready to cross just yet. It sounded crass even in her mind, but she wasn't experienced in anything but the standard missionary position. She didn't want to ruin the moment by doing something wrong. She knew Tristan didn't understand the reasons why, but he came over her even as she lay back.
When he slid inside her she gasped. It had been a long time since she had slept with anyone. She felt him pause for a moment before pulling out and sliding back in. And so it went, the pace quickening, until she thought she couldn't take the sensations anymore. And, for the first time, she felt herself sob out his name as she climaxed around him. Before, she had equated orgasms with a sensation like the popping of a cork, not this mind-numbing release of pressure. Weak, and happy beyond all reason, she opened her eyes and looked at him, smiling even as she felt his muscles bunch beneath her hands. And as if that was all he needed, he climaxed, and collapsed upon her.
She didn't mind the extra weight of him; it felt nice and she had no urge for him to roll away. Almost absent-mindedly she stroked his back as they lay there, not wanting to break any contact with him. She could feel his warm breath in her ear and she let her hand slide up to his hair.
"That was amazing," it seemed a shame to break the moment, but she heard the words slip out of their own volition. She could hear the awe in her voice, and was a little ashamed by it. Tristan had slept with hordes of girls, this was nothing new to him. It was obviously where he had gotten his extensive knowledge of foreplay.
She felt some regret as he pulled out of her, and away, but she knew it wasn't safe to stay intertwined like that. She lay on her side, and propped her head up on her elbow as he divested himself of the condom. She wanted to tell him he was beautiful, but that would be embarrassing for both of them, so she just kept silent and smiled as he came closer to her, not wanting to sound gushing at the sex which had been life-altering for her.
Tristan smoothed back the hair from her face, and she was shocked at how sweaty they had gotten with the exchange. "Lie with me," she reached her hand to him, not wanting this time to end just yet.
He obliged, but instead of lying to face her like he knew she wanted, he wrapped his arms around her instead, her back to his front, resting his chin on the top of her head. It was easiest to talk this way sometimes, when the other couldn't see you. But he was silent for awhile, for so long that Rory began to doze waiting for him to speak. "Rory," the words finally came, hesitantly. "I just wanted to you know, it was never…..I never…..it was amazing for me too." And since he hadn't wanted to face her, he missed the way her face lit up at his words.
They fell asleep in that position together, comfortable with one another. Rory with a large smile upon her face, even as she drifted into sleep, and Tristan feeling the most profound sense of peace and contentment he had felt in his life as he held her. "I think I might love you," he didn't speak the words until her breathing was soft and even beside him, hugging her closer even as he too succumbed to sleep.
I think I need a cigarette now.
Anyway, next chapter (just like scenes from the next fresh Gilmore Girls): Everything about Tristan that you, and Rory, have wondered about.