Gilmore Girls snippet: angels and devils
angels and devils [Gilmore Girls, Dean/Rory, future fluff (no spoilers), PG, 290 words. A wee giftlet for pheebs1 - a belated happy birthday to you!]
Dean lounges against the wall and makes idle excuses. "I've got farther to fall than you," he says. "Besides, it's too cold out." He illustrates with an absurdly dramatic shiver, rubbing his hands together like an old man.
"Chicken," Rory says, shaking her head in patent disbelief. She throws the door open and breathes in the snowy air, sharp and clean. It smells like it might snow again later, but for now it's still and quiet. She stomps her way down the steps and through the snow on their front lawn, leaving a little army of footsteps. The snow crackles and crunches underfoot, pure white and dry as powdered sugar. She turns back to the house and grins at Dean before throwing herself onto a drift beneath the old oak tree. After she's waved her hands and legs wide in the snow, she lifts herself up carefully from the snow angel and dusts herself off. "You don't know what you're missing," she shouts.
Dean shakes his head behind the window and lifts his mug of coffee in a clear I can't play, I'm drinking coffee sign.
Later, after dark, she stands at the living room window watching the expected new snow fall. She peers out, catching sight of something in the snow by the light of passing cars. Next to the slowly blurring angel there's a shape. Long body, long arms and legs. And two curved horns and a forked tail.
Dean comes up behind her and leans his chin on her head, pulling her back against his chest. "What's with the snow devil?" Rory asks.
Dean's hands creep under her sweater, huge and warm and welcome. "It's because you make me horny," he says, and kisses away her groans.
//
Dean lounges against the wall and makes idle excuses. "I've got farther to fall than you," he says. "Besides, it's too cold out." He illustrates with an absurdly dramatic shiver, rubbing his hands together like an old man.
"Chicken," Rory says, shaking her head in patent disbelief. She throws the door open and breathes in the snowy air, sharp and clean. It smells like it might snow again later, but for now it's still and quiet. She stomps her way down the steps and through the snow on their front lawn, leaving a little army of footsteps. The snow crackles and crunches underfoot, pure white and dry as powdered sugar. She turns back to the house and grins at Dean before throwing herself onto a drift beneath the old oak tree. After she's waved her hands and legs wide in the snow, she lifts herself up carefully from the snow angel and dusts herself off. "You don't know what you're missing," she shouts.
Dean shakes his head behind the window and lifts his mug of coffee in a clear I can't play, I'm drinking coffee sign.
Later, after dark, she stands at the living room window watching the expected new snow fall. She peers out, catching sight of something in the snow by the light of passing cars. Next to the slowly blurring angel there's a shape. Long body, long arms and legs. And two curved horns and a forked tail.
Dean comes up behind her and leans his chin on her head, pulling her back against his chest. "What's with the snow devil?" Rory asks.
Dean's hands creep under her sweater, huge and warm and welcome. "It's because you make me horny," he says, and kisses away her groans.
//