
Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/125642.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Underage
  Category:
      F/M
  Fandom:
      Gilmore_Girls
  Relationship:
      Dean_Forester/Rory_Gilmore, Dean_Forester/Lorelai_Gilmore
  Character:
      Dean_Forester
  Additional Tags:
      Blow_Jobs, Cunnilingus
  Collections:
      Porn_Battle_VII_(The_Seven_Deadly_Sins)
  Stats:
      Published: 2009-01-27 Words: 755
****** Tastes Like You (Only Sweeter) ******
by shirasade
Summary
     "You know, Rory, when you come you sound exactly like your mother.
     Taste like her, too. Sweet."
Notes
     Prompts: like mother like daughter, inexperienced, kitchen
Dean had never intended to tell Rory. But he was drunk, and lonely, and still
rather angry about the way Rory had dumped him, which all added up to a very
late phone call. He did not go into details, could not have, even had he wanted
to, because Rory, at some party with Logan, hung up on him with a cutting "Oh,
you've got to be kidding me! Just... grow up, Dean!"
Which left him still drunk, still lonely and angry, but also deeply mortified -
although he had been nothing but truthful, if crude: "You know, Rory, when you
come you sound exactly like your mother. Taste like her, too. Sweet."
Now he lay back on his bed, chucking the phone into a corner with a satisfying
thump. He remembered Rory's taste clearly, not just the taste of her mouth and
her clear skin under his lips, but also the dark musk between her legs, a
memory that still felt somewhat illicit and new. After all, he had NOT known
what she tasted like "down there" for much longer than he had known it, and
when he finally did, it had been all he had been dreaming of for years. At the
time he had not compared her to Lorelai, had done his best not to ever think of
the fact that he was able to do so, but no such considerations held him back
now. Almost unconsciously Dean slipped one hand into his jeans and started
stroking himself.
Kissing Lorelai had not felt new, or fresh, or like a dream come true. However
it had felt illicit, but not because of some remnants of nostalgia, as he had
felt for the image of pure, innocent Rory, but because he was engaged and
standing in his ex-girlfriend's kitchen with her mother's legs wrapped around
his hips and her tongue deep in his mouth. Dean had had sex before, a couple of
fumbling times with his ex in Chicago, but nothing had prepared him for
Lorelai. She'd been drinking when he came to drop something off, clearly upset
about something or someone, and because it could have been Rory he didn't ask,
and Lorelai didn't tell, just smiled at him, asked how he was doing, and
absent-mindedly played with the frayed collar of his shirt. Then she'd said
"This is such a bad idea" and kissed him, clinging to him in a way that left
Dean no choice but to kiss her back.
She had his zipper down and his erection in hand before he had properly
realized that he was fully aroused, and one moment later Lorelai was up on the
kitchen table - "It's not as if we ever eat here" - and he was pushing into
her. She wasn't very wet, but he tried his best to hold on long enough so it'd
be good for her, too. Only he was hardly more than a boy, and she was still
kissing him and urging him on, so when he collapsed on top of her it was only a
few minutes after they had started. When he got his wits together enough to
make sure he wasn't crushing Lorelai she was smiling at him, a little amused
but also conspiratorally, and he had dropped to his knees and spread her legs
open with his hands. He had never done this before, but Lorelai was vocal and
her hands made sure he found the right spots. It was a strange sensation, a
strange taste and feel in his mouth and under his tongue, but mostly in a good
way, and he kept going until he felt Lorelai tremble and fall apart.
He hadn't felt guilty then. Especially not when she slid off the table and
turned him around and returned the favor. However, when, much much later, in
Miss Patty's studio, Rory went to her knees for him, all enthusiasm and little
technique, he had to keep his eyes wide open to make sure he would not compare,
would not remember the way Lorelai had cleaned him afterwards, talking about a
movie she wanted to see, as if he'd spilled ketchup and not semen. It had not
been difficult then, he had been too full of love and giddy disbelief, but now,
alone in his room, with no Gilmore a part of his life anymore, Dean allowed
himself to remember every moment and came with a gasp that might have been
either name. It didn't really matter anymore, after all, and they had both
tasted sweet.
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