Title: How To Break a Triangle of Tension
Author: Siaram
Rating: R For later chapters
Summary: A week-end of craziness and fun to break the tension between Rory, Tristan and Paris.
Feedback: Always appreciated.

Chapter 1: Tension and Twisted Revenge
Chapter 2: Rolling Tricks
Chapter 3: Truth...
Chapter 4: ...And Dare
Chapter 5: The Last Dare
Chapter 6: The Morning After

How To Break a Triangle of Tension
Chapter 7: Before The Halloween Formal

- - - - - -

Tristan looked at Rory, who was sleeping peacefully in his arms, and stopped having control over his actions. He slowly lowered his mouth to hers and kissed her softly, and then he whispered, “Rory, time to wake up.”

She kissed him back lazily and muttered, “Not yet, just a little longer.” And she snuggled more closely against him, intertwining her legs with his.

He breathed her intoxicating scent and whispered, “Oh no, you don’t.”

He held her tighter, hoping to not be rejected when she fully awoke and shifted her so she was resting on her back. He kissed the soft skin of her neck as he straddled her. She unconsciously wrapped her arms around his neck to bring him closer and moaned softly. He studied her eyes and was astonished to see two deep blue orbs gazing at him. She smiled slightly before pushing him away to sit up straight.

Tristan sat in front of her, his mixed feelings fighting as her gaze studied him. “Rory, I…”

Rory crushed her lips against his, “Don’t talk.”

He didn’t need more encouragement as he gazed into the pool of liquid blue that were her eyes. As he kissed her back hungrily and moved her to sit closer between his legs, his hands were working on the buttons of her pajama top.

She moved her hands around his back and massaged what she could reach of his back, enjoying the warmth that was building up inside of her. He broke the contact between their lips as he felt her hands trying to move his shirt up. As he did, Rory studied him with mournful eyes, as she wasn’t sure if he was pulling away from her.

He chuckled and kissed her softly, his intense gaze trying to lock with her own, he took off his shirt and kissed her lightly again. It forced her to look into his eyes and softly, he asked, “May I?”

Rory looked at his hands that were placed against both side of her neck under her PJ. She nodded uncertainly and he slipped the unwanted piece of clothing off.

Tristan took the time to admire her, his hands steady on her hips, and he advanced to kiss her again and whispered, “Rory, you are beautiful!”

He locked his lips with hers and lay her down on the bed, his golden skin molding itself to her creamy skin. At the contact, she moaned from the jolt of electricity that coursed inside her body.

Tristan trailed kisses down her neck, his hands cupping her breasts gently. He smirked as he heard her raspy breathing as he took a nipple in his mouth, sucking on it softly. He sat down over between her legs, to admire her when she wrapped her legs around his torso and sat up to kiss him.

As she kissed his neck, she asked softly, “What are you doing to me?”

He held her tighter against him, his voice husky, “Right now? Or what I want to do to you?” He groaned as she sucked on his shoulder, “I’m trying to…” She felt reckless and pushed him on the bed just after taking her legs from behind him. He breathed heavily as she sat on his groin. “I think you have the general idea.” As if trying to prove it to her, he gripped her hips and moved against her.

Rory gasped and blushed as his hands were now working their way under her PJ pants.

A horrified screech came from the open door. “Tristan!”

Rory gasped, and shifted, trying to hide her nudity as Tristan moved in front of her to block her from Marissa’s view.

“How can you entertain a lady when young Paris is sitting in the other room?” She grabbed a pillow on the bed as Rory snuggled closer against Tristan’s back. Marissa hit Tristan on the head with the pillow, “Have you no shame? Entertaining two ladies at the same time!” She hit him again on the head.

Tristan covered his head with his hands, “It’s not what you think! I told you already, I’m not with Paris!”

Marissa crossed her arms in front of her, the pillow hanging threateningly in her hands, “Are you with this young Lady then?” She pointed Rory with her chin.

Rory blushed and tried to melt against Tristan’s back, wishing for nothing more than a hole to open under her, and swallow her up. Tristan took hold of her hands that were gripping his stomach, “No, but I’m trying to convince her to be.” Rory gasped and blushed, Tristan asked Marissa, “Can we talk in private now? Or are you going to humiliate me even more?”

Marissa huffed and said as she left and closed the door, “I’ll be waiting for you outside.”

Rory lay down on the bed, her face hidden in the pillow, “I want to die!”

Tristan kissed her shoulder tenderly, “I’ll go talk to her, and she must have brought food. You should go eat.”

- - - - - -

Rory sat at the table sipping her cup of coffee and munching on a double chocolate chip muffin as she avoided Paris’ gaze. She heard Paris chuckled, “If Marissa screamed like that thinking he was cheating on me, does it means that she actually caught you having sex with Tristan?”

Rory choked on her muffin and glared as Paris stood to slap her on the back, “Did she catch you while you were naked and covered with sweat?”

Rory coughed, “No! I did not sleep with Tristan!”

Paris sat back down and picked up a spoon filled with cereals, “Well, I just figured with the moaning and thumping I heard, he had done a little more than last night.”

Rory dropped her head on the table with a thud, “Just kill me now.” She banged her head on the table again, and again.

Paris chuckled, “You know, if you did, either now, or in the future, I won’t hate you.”

Rory rested her head on the wood, “I would hate myself.”

Paris slowly chewed a mouthful of cereal, “Why?”

Rory looked at Paris, her eyes filled with tears, “Because I’m supposed to hate Tristan. I’m supposed to hate that I would be just another meaningless conquest. I’m not like that.” She stood up to refill her coffee; “I just don’t sleep with a guy I don’t love.” She sat back down, “I went out with Dean for two years and never even reached second base!”

Paris chocked on her granola cereal, “Mary! I knew you were a prude but not that big of one.”

Rory gulped down some coffee, “I’m not! When Dean broke up the first time because I couldn’t say I love you back, I went and kissed Tristan.” She saw Paris’ eyes open wide but she doggedly continued, “Then not even a week after Dean breaks up with me again, I got drunk, went to second base with you,” she made a face, “and then with Tristan. Twice...” Her face crumpled, “I’m a slut!”

Paris snorted, “I wish you were, but you’re not. I wish I had someone for a while. I’m eighteen and I only went on one date; two if you count you asking Tristan to take me out.” She saw Rory about to argue, “I know what you were thinking, and I don’t hate you for it. It just made me realize that he’ll never like me that way... the way he likes you. So, go for it.”

Rory blushed, “He doesn’t like me like that and you know it. It’s just a game for him. Monday, he’ll go back to his life of playing the part of the playboy at school and I’ll...” She stopped suddenly.

Intrigued, Paris asked, “You’ll what?”

Rory hid her face in her hands, and muttered, “I’ll crave his touch.” She stood up, “I’m going to take a shower.”

She was near the kitchen entrance when Paris spoke, “Whatever happens, this time I’ll still be your friend.”

- - - - - -

Moments later, Tristan came back and took Rory’s seat. He started to eat a carrot muffin, completely ignoring Paris: but she had absolutely no intention of being invisible, “Is Marissa still mad?”

He grumbled, “No, I’m the one who’s mad.”

Paris smirked knowingly and said, “She’s in the shower.”

Tristan looked at Paris and asked sarcastically, “What do you want me to do about it? Go jump her in the shower?”

She laughed and said innocently, “I don’t know, scrub her back maybe?”

Tristan looked at her as if she had grown a second head, “Are you insane?”

She quirked an eyebrow, “I was just trying to help you. I thought you wanted her.”

He went back to his muffin, “Yeah, but not enough to make what could possibly be her first time, being slammed against a cold ceramic wall for a quick bang.” He stood up and looked at Paris angrily, “Give me a little more credit than that, Paris.” And he stormed out of the room.

Paris continued on eating her cereal, a small, sad smile on her lips as she started to plot.

- - - - - -

Rory came out of the bathroom with a towel wrapped tightly around her body and her unclean clothes hanging over her arm. The first thing she saw was Tristan scowling on the couch; she blushed furiously and looked at her bare feet. She was almost at the door to the room when she heard, “No need to dressed up, Gilmore! My wax is all ready for you!”

She saw Paris leaning against the doorframe leading to the kitchen, “Oh, no, Paris! You are not waxing me!”

Paris smiled evilly, “I’ll wax a butterfly on your pubic hair if you don’t come and lie down on the couch this instant.”

Rory squirmed, “Oh, no, you don’t! I don’t have any underwear on right now, and he is there… he can’t see that!”

Tristan’s eyes misted over, “You saw her wax me; I get to see her do it to you.” Upon her horrified look he added, “I’ll make sure to distract you like you did for me.”

Marissa came into the room, “Okay, I only have an hour before returning; whose hair am I streaking?”

Rory was pushed on the couch, still clad only in her towel and holding on to it tight. “Oh no! I like my hair the way it is!”

Tristan pushed her up to make sure her head was over the edge of the couch, with a towel behind it and sat over her hips. “You are okay to work Marissa?”

Marissa nodded as she put out the coloring tools. Tristan turned his head to face Paris, “You’re okay to work?”

Paris started spreading wax on Rory’s legs not focusing completely on what she was doing. At the first rip of the wax, Rory felt like screaming, but Tristan’s lips quieted her. She also felt Marissa start to work on her hair, but she couldn’t quite summon enough energy to care.

Tristan was all over her and, for the moment, it was enough for her.

- - - - - -

Tristan had left Rory’s mouth at some point; nobody was pulling on her hair anymore; except for the waxing going on mid thigh. She looked at Tristan, by the couch on his knees, who dipped his head to suck on one of her breasts, which had somehow already become uncovered. She was about to protest when she felt a finger inside her, she moaned and Tristan sucked deeper on her breast. But as she felt both of his hands cupping her breasts, she glared, horrified, at Paris who was pressing a white strip of cloth, about to remove her bikini hair, “Paris!”

Paris looked at her innocently over the work she was doing, and as she pulled the wax, she asked, “'What's wrong Gilmore; afraid that I made you cum more than Dean ever did?”

Rory blushed furiously in shame, as she had to live through the torture of being naked on the couch with Tristan all over her, and Paris watching it all. Not only watching, but even going so far as to help Tristan to arouse her even more, with inappropriate gestures.

“I’ll get you both back for that.” She mumbled before she was silenced by Tristan’s mouth claiming hers once again.

- - - - - -

Rory finally was able to get away from Tristan and Paris and she locked herself in the bathroom. Breathing hard while leaning against the counter, she looked at her reflection in the mirror and gasped. Her lips were red and swollen; she looked down at her body and screamed as she grabbed a new towel, she furiously opened the door, “Gellar! You are so dead!”

Paris chuckled, “I must say, blue is absolutely your color!”

Tristan put wax on Paris legs, and rose an eyebrow questioningly as Rory stormed back to the bathroom to try and shower the blue away. “What was that about?” he asked Paris impatiently.

He pulled on the wax and she breathed out, “let’s just say that not only her head is streaked blue.”

He smirked, “I so want to see that!”

- - - - - -

Rory came out of the shower, and she approached them fully clad this time. She smiled at them both softly and Paris tried to level her gaze with Rory’s but was nervous somehow. Rory took a bottle that was on the coffee table and carefully read the instructions. She sat down behind Paris, and whispered softly, “I think I’ll use that on your hair.”

Paris shrugged her shoulders indifferently, knowing that whatever she said, she’d have her hair pink for the night. She let Tristan wax her legs as Rory was massaging her scalp a little too roughly for her own tastes. She felt Rory separate chunk of hair apart and drench it with coloring. She saw Tristan chuckle and shake his head while he muttered, “Rory; remind me never to make you hate me.”

Paris opened her eyes wide and asked, “What did she do?”

Rory pat her on the shoulder; “I think I’ll go get dressed for the formal now.” She left the room laughing.

“Me, too.” He grinned as he pulled off the last strip of wax, and laughed as he followed Rory out of the room.’

Chapter 8: The Halloween Formal