This is for the most wonderful
smidgy06. Who I love more than pie and Jensen and cake. She prompted me: Gilmore Girls, Dean/Loralie, drunk Dean kissing Loralie and it not being good and them being all WTF and then doing it again and it being all hot/passionate.
So yeah. I hope you like it. And I hope you feel better.
Title: International Code For Coffee
Author: Me (lj user="jewels667">)
Rating: PG (just kissing)
Author's notes: *facepalm*
"Hey," Dean says surprised when Loralie answers the door. "I didn't expect to see you here."
"Why? I live here," Loralie retorts before continuing. "Rory isn't here."
"Oh," Dean mumbles. "Maybe you could just... I mean. Well."
"Is this some new and exciting language the kids are speaking these days or am I actually supposed to be understanding this?"
Dean feels like a frickin idiot. "Just tell her I stopped by okay? Unless she's with Jess and then tell her I didn't stop by. Or, I mean, don't tell her anything. If she's with Jess," Dean finishes lamely before he starts giggling.
Loralie sighs, arching a brow. "Are you drunk?"
"Maybe a little," Dean giggles again, trying to catch his breath.
Loralie opens the door wider. "Why don't you come in, I'll make you some coffee." She's already heading down the short hallway toward her kitchen before he answers.
"I'll just... wait here. For the coffee," Dean clarifies and he's pretty sure there is no possible way he could be any dumber.
"Suit yourself," Loralie shouts from inside the house.
Dean walks over the the railing and boosts himself up, balancing precariously and trying to keep his head from spinning.
"Here," Loralie says a few minutes later, shoving a coffee mug into Dean's hands.
"Thanks," he whispers. "Did you know that your deck is moving?"
"Sure, it's always done that." Loralie laughs and tries to feel bad for fucking with the kid. "I think I'll just go call Luke to take you home." She leans against the banister and pats Dean's thigh sympathetically.
"No!" Dean jumps down from his perch and sways a little on his legs like a man just back from sea. He frowns and pouts all at once. "That's Jess' uncle. Just no. I'll walk."
"You can't walk. Just let me get my keys and I'll take you." Loralie walks toward the door before Dean grabs her arm and pulls her back causing her to lose her balance and fall against his chest.
"Why are you being nice to me?" Dean asks, breath moving hot over her cheek. "You're pretty," he whispers and before Loralie quite knows what's happening his lips are on hers.
The kiss is sloppy, too much tongue and not enough suction and really if she's completely honest with herself it's totally not good at all. Which sort of has her wondering why she's moaning into Dean's mouth. And that thought right there is enough to have her snapping back, pulling her lips off his.
"What the hell?" Loralie whispers looking warily at Dean and feeling trapped between 6 foot 2 inches of adolescent boy and the banister.
Dean wipes the back of his hand across his mouth and looks at her before he whispers, "Sorry."
"It's okay Dean. I just..." Loralie's words are cut off when Dean rushes forward, pushing Loralie into the banister with so much force she's sure she's going to have a bruise across her lower back tomorrow. But all that takes a back seat when he puts his lips against hers again.
This time, the angle is perfect and he licks his tongue along her bottom lip like a promise of better things to come and Loralie can't help but just open right up and let him in. Their tongues tangle together and everything is really, really good.
Dean puts his hands on her hips, boosts her up onto the banister for better access to her mouth and Loralie opens her thighs so he can move in closer. He tilts her head back and really gives the kiss his best effort.
Loralie's pretty sure she could go on kissing Dean forever. Probably not the best idea since her daughter's due back from her date any minute now and it would probably seriously traumatize her to find her mom and her ex-boyfriend making out on the porch and GOD but this kid can fucking kiss.
It's only the hard press of Dean's erection against Loralie's blue jean clad thigh that clears the fog long enough for her to push Dean away. They stand there on the porch looking at each other for a few minutes, breath making steamy puffs in the air.
"Well fuck," Loralie says.
And Dean laughs.