Friday, September 23, 2005

How We Play Hide and Go Seek

Things to include:
1.)Rory and Tristan trying to keep their relationship secret from people (think: alot of sneaking around... late night meetings and "creative" meeting places")
2.) They don't have to have full blown out sex, but there should be plenty of teasing... (detailed, hot and steamy!)
3.) The phrase, "the yellow snow"
4.) I don't need the happy ending or full closure... A well-done open ending that leaves you wanting more is preferred... but this is left up to the writer. Let Genius produce genius I say!
Thing NOT to include:
1.) Sappy anything... Keep the characters in character please!
2.) It's okay to have Dean or Jess or both in the fic if it helps the story... but please no Ultra-Liberated-Feminist-Rory rants where she tears them a new one and then runs into the arms of Tris... been done too many times!
3.) No Tristan popping the "question" or Rory ending up pregnant. There are already a couple of great stories that go there.
Rating: R/NC17

Rory Gilmore ran her fingers over the embossed letters that spelled out her name. The annual DuGrey Christmas ball was an event the who’s who tried to get invited to. She should feel so lucky to be lumped in such an elite club but she knew why she was there. The elder DuGreys had been trying to get her and Tristin together since his return to Hartford. Unfortunately, they always seem to be “conveniently indisposed” when they had to meet.

And they liked keeping it that way. No question from either parents or grandparents; no commitments or engagements need to be met as a pair. Tristin liked the chase. Rory liked the mystery. Until now. Her supply on temper was running low.

It was just like before only he had taken it one step further.

Rory was already anxious. Tristin promised revenge and she was looking forward to it. She stole his favorite undershirt when they got intimate during the half-time show on the parking lot of The Meadowlands when the Jets were playing a home game a week ago. Now it was his turn to keep a souvenir.

Thinking about it made her want more. Damned Christmas and not getting the present she wants: a naked Tristin under the Christmas tree with a red bow strategically placed for her to unwrap.

As her eyes scanned the crowded room, her thoughts took her back to the time she got to know Tristin as more than a former adversary.

It had been six months since Tristin DuGrey came home a hero, doing his time in Iraq. He was a decorated captain that did a lot of night jumps with the 82nd Airborne.

However, coming back, he wanted to be known as the anti-hero; the slacker that somehow had a brain for higher math. In his sick sense of humor, he thought he would give the finger back to structured society by teaching in the one school that kicked him out more often than kept him in: Chilton. Headmaster Charleston, who still held the position after all those years, was livid when Tristin proved more than qualified and highly recommended for the open position.

“Damn it, Tristin, where are you?” Rory hissed under her breath. She shifted the scrap of cloth that barely covered her breasts. Despite the cheery Christmas lights twinkling on the banister of the S-staircase, Rory felt like the Grinch, full of sexual tension that needed to be exploited. She pasted a fake smile on her face as she hobnobbed with the people she passed by. She swore this would state an ultimatum to Tristin about their current state of pretense.

It’s bad enough that suspicions started circulating when Rory left her job at Jane Magazine six weeks ago. It killed her to let the job go just to be closer to the man she still masqueraded with as nothing more than a casual acquaintance.

“I want to go back to real journalism. Not interviewing the latest pop tart whether they prefer boxers or briefs,” Rory commented to her mom a few weeks before moving back to Stars Hollow.

“But you loved Jane,” Lorelai whined. “I loved those free goodies you always got from companies.”

“I promise I will still try and get you the goodies, mom. They’ll just be bought this time,” Rory promised.

“So you think this is a good move?” Lorelai asked.

“I think so. News 12 has an opening in their desk team. You just never know. I might eventually end up in front of the camera,” Rory flashed her mother a toothy grin.

“I should’ve not met you,” Rory said in disgust.

It was in June when Rory was given the task to cover the “Hotties In the Army”. It was evident to the Jane staff that Rory was getting bored with what she did as a reporter and they wanted to keep her happy.

“What do you want me to do?” Rory asked, the bored gaze manifesting itself instantly when the article was pitched to her.

“Do a feature piece. Make it a salute to the men of the Armed Forces,” her boss said.

Twenty-four hours later, Rory found herself in a hangar with her photographer snapping away photos of the platoon that was being ceremoniously welcomed home.

She was ready to skip the story and head back to New York when she saw him. He was darker, trimmer, leaner, more muscular if possible. The khaki camouflaged uniform was immaculately pressed. His boots were spit shined to the hilt. The maroon beret that covered his head just made his intense blue eyes stand out more than usual. There was a tug in the sexual recess of her mind that this was a man she was willing to have a one-night stand with. The fact that he looked like someone she had met before piqued her curiosity. Was it from the romance novel she read on the flight?

“Who's that?” Rory asked the Stars and Stripes reporter next to her.

“That’s Captain DuGrey. He’s from West Point. He graduated with a degree in Mathematics, minor in Physics. He played for the football team before being assigned here two years ago. This is his third trip back from the Middle East,” she whispered.

“DuGrey? Tristin DuGrey?” Rory repeated.

She knew who she was doing her piece on.

CPT Tristin DuGrey was tired. This was his last trip, his last command post. He had done his time and as soon as midnight hit, he would be discharged to the reserve unit back home. He dismissed the unit as soon as he could, giving them a three-day pass. He watched the faces of family members hug and cry as the soldiers ran in to their open arms. There still was no one for him. It may have been his third trip back but it still hurt like hell not having anyone greet him with such enthusiasm.

“There’s one more interview… It’s a girly magazine,” Colonel Marjorie Doyle said. Before walking away, she reminded him, “Go easy on the girl. She’s ready to jump out of her skin.”

“Always,” he mumbled before saluting her away. He started marching out to the girl standing in front of a cameraman before relaxing his stride. She was fidgety. Something told him that she might be more comfortable talking to someone who presented a more informal stance.

There was an air of familiarity when he looked at the brunette in front of him. The hair was swept up in a messy bun. Strands of hair strayed to the side of her face, framing her angelic features. The outfit she wore was subtle yet feminine. It might have been how the light hit her eyes or the smile that accompanied it but he knew it was her when she spoke.

“Welcome home, soldier,” Rory breathed out.

Tristin asked Rory to step in his office. She knew it as S2- Intel. He knew it as heaven.

They spoke in volumes without saying a word. Rory pushed him against the wall before his lips made contact with hers.

It wasn’t enough that Ft Bragg that time of the year was downright humid. The heat they generated themselves was enough to burn the whole post down.

His head swam the moment Rory took his lips into hers. Part of him thought he was living out another fantasy like those times he and his men patrolled the deserts and the only thing that kept his sanity was snippets of her in his dreams.

“What are you doing here?” he asked between impatient kisses. Rory guided his long fingers to the opening of her shirt. Taking her cue, his hands immediately cupped her breasts, tracing and massaging the mounds in the palm of his hands. His thumbs sought out the peaks that were hardening from his touch.

“I’m on the clock, captain, doing a story on your unit,” she said, kissing his jaw line.

Like a woman possessed, she deftly undid the buttons to his BDU top.

“Metaphorically or physically?” he teased, pulling her crisp white shirt from the waistband of her pencil skirt. His hand s spanned her narrow waistline.

“Hmm, I’ll let you know in a minute,” she nibbled on the base of his neck. He groaned in anticipation and died in ecstasy.

He took a sharp breath as her cool palm met with his abdomen. Her fingers traced the six-pack outline making him groan from her touch.

“You’re killing me here, babe,” he whispered into her ear, sending shivers down her spine. He got impatient and ripped the tiny pearl buttons that secured the front of her shirt.

“My, my, Rory. I’d say you’re a little hot,” he commented as he watched a bead of sweat disappear between the valley of her breasts, held captive by a pair of lacy, baby pink bra that cupped her bosom delicately.

Rory gasped at his comment. She could feel her nipples tighten as his eyes darted over the mounds.

“I think you need some cooling off, too,” Rory suggested as she impatiently helped him out of the brown shirt. If she thought he looked delectable with his uniform on, she had an instant orgasm the moment he bared his chest to her. With only the dog tags hanging on his neck, Rory felt like she had to traverse the whole plane.

And that she did.

She forced him to sit on the leather chair. She could tell from the bulge on his pants that he was aroused. She found that power intoxicating.

Rory resumed kissing his lips, nibbling the lower lip she always thought would taste like cherry Starburst. When the sparks flew, what she tasted was urgency. She just wanted to have him.

Tristin thought he was having a heart attack. His syncopated heartbeat danced to the same rhythm Rory’s heart did. She took his hands and guided them to her waist. He wanted to undo the lacy bra but her incessant kissing prevented him from reaching around her to release the globes begging for freedom. God she smelled good.

He hiked her skirt up high on her thighs revealing a pair of mile long legs encased in black silk stockings held up by a lacy garter belt.

“So was it your intention to seduce my soldiers, babe?” he grilled her while his hands slowly ran up the length of her thighs.

“Hmm, not really but there was something about the beret coming down over your brow,” she said, trailing the length of the chain down his neck with her tongue.

She flicked the tip of her tongue quickly, leaving the heated skin heightened. Tristin moaned. His hands sought her buttocks, giving it a light squeeze. Slowly but deftly he found the elastics to her underwear. His thumb curiously sought out the little nub at the apex of her thighs. The slick, wet engorged button making contact with the pad of his finger made Rory shudder. She sucked on his lip harder than usual. He knew Rory was turned on and that made him so hard he wanted to take her then and there.

If it weren’t for the clicking of heels he heard getting louder and louder he would’ve.

“Rory, get up,” he ordered.

A confused look washed over her face. “What?”

“Don’t ask. The closet, go!” he barked after swatting her behind. He grabbed his brown shirt and hid in the closet with her instead.

Just in time, the office door opened.

“Captain DuGrey?” the voice of the battalion commander filled the room.

Tristin swore under his breath. He was supposed to have a briefing with him in ten minutes. It’s all Rory’s fault.

“Is this your way of saying you want to play ‘Seven Minutes in Heaven’?” Rory whispered, her hand lingering on the waistline of his ACU bottoms.

“Shh!” he hushed her while trying to get a hold of his senses. He subconsciously rubbed Rory’s arms while he peered through the metal cabinet vents. The commander fingered Tristin’s uniform top knowing he was around somewhere around the building. No one is allowed out of the office without the complete uniform on.

Rory could hear Tristin’s ragged breath in the small confines they were in. He switched to military control mode.

She couldn’t have that. Not now. She felt him tug her closer towards him feeling him through his pants. That’s when she thought of payback.

She deliberately made him feel her hands on his belt. His intense stare focused back at her saying ‘No’. She negated the order. She made sure she kept eye contact with him while she undid the buttons on his pants. Ever so slowly, she unsheathed his manhood from the confines of his boxers. The piece of flesh seemed to grow in her touch. It was thick and long and hard, pulsating while she held it delicately with her hands.

“Rory…” Tristin grumbled. His plea fell on deaf ears. Rory was already on her knees.

“Oh, Jesus!” the prayer was garbled in his throat. His eyes closed as she took control of his member.

Rory started tracing the short coarse hair that started at the bottom of his navel. Her fingers lightly tugged on the boxers until it ended up around his knees. She could feel herself getting wet through her own panties, wondering how she was going to clean herself up afterwards.

Almost automatically, she started playing with the curls at the base of his unit. She heard him groan. The primitive sound made her smile. She took his erection in her hand and lifted it so she could lick its underside. She felt him buckle when the tip of her tongue slipped on the cleft of the sensitive tip. She repeated it and she felt his hands squeeze her shoulders. Did he urge her to go on?

She licked her lips before taking the circumcised skin in her mouth. Like a lollipop, she took the member and ran her tongue around the heated tip. She felt him take a sharp breath. His midsection contracted making his manhood get more turgid. It made Rory moan. It made him curse their current condition.

He wanted to be in her now. He wanted to at least touch her. Correction, he wanted to taste her. No one gets away making him come without satisfying his woman first.

The low hum vibrating through Rory’s throat made him more sensitive. The fingers that were playing with his testicles were pushing him to the edge. If Rory takes more of him…

And Rory did. She took his shaft into her mouth and he almost lost it.

Tristin didn’t care at this point. Rory’s going to pay for it.

He undid the clip that held her hair up and ran his fingers though the silken strands. She picked up on his heightened state as she heard the commander pick up his phone and tell the soldier on the front desk to have Tristin get to his office as soon as possible before walking out. As the commander exited the room, a loud crunch echoed in the room. He stopped and picked up one of the stray buttons that popped out of Rory’s shirt. The commander was perplexed but picked up the button and closed the door behind him.

Tristin was dripping in sweat. Rory was working her magic. She licked the rim of his head before successfully taking him in one more time before Tristin let go. Rory moaned in excitement as Tristin surrendered in defeat.

Rory chuckled as she wiped her mouth and felt him go limp. Tristin hiked up his underwear and pants while Rory tried to secure her shirt together without looking like she just seduced the captain.

She exited the metal cabinet and realized that her hair fell in a wild tumble.

“Tristin, give me back my barrette,” she ordered.

“No. It’s mine to keep,” he growled, trying to steal a kiss from her.

“Tris!” she warned stretching her hand out for him to deposit the hair clip on her palm.

“Drive with me to Hartford tonight. I just might give it back to you,” he hinted.

“Let me think about it,” Rory said playfully.

Rory made sure she looked presentable before her hand was on the doorknob.

“You never got your interview,” he called out to her.

“Oh, I did. You just didn’t know it,” she sashayed out of the room.

Tristin chuckled as he turned on the small radio on his desk. Frank Zappa’s “Don’t Eat the Yellow Snow” was playing.

“Yeah, I shouldn’t trust that girl,” Tristin chuckled, picking up on the caveat the song stated as he buttoned up the BDU top before heading to his commander’s office.

Rory took a chance and threw caution to the wind. She took Tristin’s offer to ride with him up I-95. Since then, she looked forward to shocking him by doing things he thought she never would do. He’d annoy her by being a sadist making their meetings sporadic and unpredictable.

Tonight the game ends.

Rory was beyond irritated when she could not find Tristin. In sheer frustration, she marched to the champagne fountain and took a flute with the golden liquid. She might as well get hammered if she couldn’t get laid.

“Rory, dear, I don’t think you’ve met my son,” Ella DuGrey waved at her.

There was Tristin, escorting his mother towards her. The grin that spread on his face was comical. If only his mother knew!

“Tristin, love, Rory here is Richard’s granddaughter,” Ella made the introductions. “Rory, this is my baby, Tristin. He used to be in the Army. Now he’s a teacher in Chilton Prep.”

Tristin dropped the arm that guided his mother. Switching the flute he held to the other hand, he reached out for her hand and bent over to kiss the soft skin.

“Pleasure’s all mine, Miss Gilmore,” he said, winking at her. He could see that she was agitated at him for biding his time.

“Call me Rory,” she said haughtily.

As the introductions were made, someone knocked Tristin over spilling champagne all over Rory’s lilac evening dress.

“Oh my. I’m so sorry!” Ella exclaimed, grabbing a napkin off of the table and dabbing Rory’s outfit.

“I’m fine, I’m fine,” Rory grumbled.

“Tristin, be a dear and walk Rory to the powder room upstairs and get her cleaned up,” Ella suggested.

Rory went from horny to pissed in five seconds. She walked in front of Tristin who was trying to catch up with her.

“Rory! Rory!” he called out.

Rory pretended not to hear him. She walked into the marbled room and immediately went for the sink.

“Are you upset with me?” Tristin asked.

“I know you’re not asking me that question,” Rory accused staring at him through the reflection at the mirror.

As far as bad timing went, Rory’s cell phone going off was the topper.

“Mom, you better speak fast,” Rory barked at the phone.

Tristin took a wash towel and soaked it in cold water. He proceeded to dab the front of the dress. Rory tried to swat his hand away when he rubbed the cloth over her nipples. Rory’s voice caught up in her throat.

“Rory, you alright?” Tristin heard Rory’s mom ask over the phone.

“Yes,” she barely said through gritted teeth.

Tristin repeated the experiment on the other breast. When he got the same reaction, he dropped the washcloth and decided to give her the real thing.

“But mom,” Rory sighed, She tried to concentrate on the conversation. Tristin apparently made it his quest that she didn’t.

Tristin started nibbling on her earlobe while he slowly undid the zipper on her back. The soft fabric melted on his hands, her breasts escaping their confines. There was something Tristin found erotic watching him rub Rory’s rose tipped mounds in front of the mirror. He held the dress to her waist, nibbling her neck, massaging her nipples until they were as hard as eraser heads. He made sure to press himself against her, reminding her that if she ended the conversation, she might participate in their make out session.

“Mom, I swear to God that if you don’t stop babbling, I will pass you on to grandma,” Rory threatened her mother. God, Tristin really knew how to work those lips!

Tristin grinned as his hands slid between her silk dress and her pale skin. He was expecting her to wear something silky yet practical. What his fingers encountered was a thin, wispy G-string!

“My Mary in thongs,” he muttered in hushed tones.

“Rory, are you with a guy?” Tristin heard the voice ask over the line.

“Uh, no mom,” Rory shot him an evil glare. “That was the TV.”

Tristin turned Rory around and let the gown drop on the cold marble floor. His mouth closed on the tip of her breast. His other hand mimicked the tightening action his mouth was doing on the nipple.

Rory was not paying attention to what her mother was saying. Tristin glanced at her every once in a while when she stuttered. He mouthed, “Keep on talking!”

‘Easy for him to say!’ Rory thought to herself. She could feel the heat oozing from between her thighs. What was he doing to her?

Tristin lifted her onto the countertop, nuzzling the valley of her breasts. His fingertips danced down her spine, making her arch herself toward him. She leaned back gingerly against the wall as he left a trail of kisses down to her navel. He could smell her. He can’t wait to taste her.

“Mom, I have to go,” Rory hurriedly said.

The moment she said that, Tristin ran his tongue over her quivering lips that soaked her thong to the core. She moaned and Tristin smirked. He pushed the scrap of fabric just enough to reveal the nub he sought after. Slowly, he circled the little button with the tip of his tongue. Rory groaned, shut the clam phone and dropped it in the sink.

“You are evil,” Rory accused.

“Shut up and enjoy it,” he told her.

Tristin knew Rory was frustrated that he was still fully dressed. It drove her insane that he kept his cool on the surface even if all he wanted to do was take her in fast and hard. But he can wait. Instead, he looked intently into her eyes while he slowly pulled down the scrap of cloth that covered her in her intimate spot.

“Tristin!” she gasped as his hands ran the length of her thighs, then legs, and then back. If that wasn’t enough, he spread her thighs again so that he could have access to the spot that was dripping with excitement.

“Oh!” she whimpered when his head descended on her liquid core. His tongue flickered over the pink nub while his fingers probed her wet core. It started with one finger. Then two went in. He pumped in and out of the tight walls that squeezed his fingers. Rory anticipated his every move and tried holding on to the end of the countertop with no avail. She lifted her hips in the rhythm he set for them. If only she could touch him…

“Baby, are you ready for me?” he asked her while he still slipped his fingers in and out of her. His thumb replaced his tongue as his mouth assaulted her perky breasts.

“If you stop now, I won’t forgive you,” she threatened.

On command, he inserted one more finger and circled her wet love button until she climaxed over his hand.

“Oh God, oh God! Tristin!” she screamed lurching forward to have him push his hand in her while the waves of ecstasy overtook her. Her arms went around him as she panted in surrender.

“There you go,” he said. He pressed her head against his shoulder until the shuddering stopped. “Now you know how I felt six months ago.”

A loud rap on the door broke the intimate encounter.

“Rory, honey, are you okay?” Ella’s voice was heard through the door. “Can I come in?”

“Uh, no, Mrs. DuGrey. I’m fine,” she said.

“Well the carolers will be assembling at the foyer in about ten minutes. Do you want me to send Tristin to get you a coat?” she asked.

“That would be nice, Mrs. DuGrey. Thank you,” Rory said calmly.

“Alright, honey,” she paused. “You know, I wish you and Tristin would date. I think you would make a handsome couple,” she hinted.

“Thanks, Mrs. DuGrey,” she chuckled.

Tristin helped Rory back into her soiled outfit.

“I guess I have to get you a coat,” Tristin said.

“Can’t let mommy know you’ve been naughty with me,” Rory gloated with the all-knowing look.

“Yep,” he chuckled as he held on to the doorknob.

“So Tris, how long do you think we’re going to keep this up?” she asked with a questioning look on her face. “I mean, we’ve done it in a military vehicle, a football field, my laundry room in New York, your parents’ garden, the roof of your apartment. There’s this thing called a bed that most couples prefer doing these things on, you know?”

“You call the shots, babe. But I just want to tell you that I got Mr. Medina’s old classroom. I thought we could give it at least one more round,” he smirked back at her.

And just like that, he walked out the door.

He started whistling a tune that gave her the clue to their next rendezvous date while twirling her thong in his hand.

“I guess I know what I’ll be doing New Year’s Eve,” she chuckled to herself. The thrill of getting caught shouldn’t be this good.