Fandom: Gilmore Girls
Word Count: 150
Summary: This, she thinks, is so not happening.
This, she thinks, is so not happening. Cannot possibly be happening.
Except that it is happening, is definitely happening, and Lorelai is pretty sure this wasn't what she had in mind when she invited Dean in for a drink. Kind of. Possibly. It's hard to tell, now, when Dean's tongue is halfway down her throat and his hands are doing something under the hem of her skirt she thinks might be illegal in most states, and if it isn't now, it's probably only a matter of time.
She's about to push him away when his fingers side across a fraction of an inch, and she gasps into his skin instead, warm and musky and somehow familiar (he smells like Christopher, heavy petting on a couch nothing like the one they're on now, and God, he makes her feel like she's sixteen again), and instead of saying stop, she says upstairs.