miracle (miracle) wrote in luke_noah, @ 2008-09-07 18:03:00 |
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Original poster: belyste
Title: Lost Till You're Found
Pairing: Luke/Noah
Rating: NC-17
Warnings/Spoilers: None
Word count: 6,000
Summary: Finding his way back is harder than Noah thought.
Notes: This is a continuation of If Not Now, which is an AU where the Valentine's Day episode didn't end with a hug. This probably won't make much sense if you haven't read that. Thanks to nouveau_monday for the original prompt and for poking me to finish this.
Disclaimer: Not mine, never happened.
At first, Luke thinks he might have dreamed the whole thing. When his cell phone goes off the next morning and he opens his eyes to dim morning light and his messy apartment, it feels like any other day, and there are a few hazy seconds where he’s not sure if the memories swirling through his head are real or the product of his sleeping subconscious. If it wasn’t for the little pin sitting on his bedside table and the way the sheets still smell like Noah, Luke might have gone with dream.
Because it was one of those things that never happens, not outside romantic movies or those ridiculous books his mom reads, and it seems more like a daydream or fantasy, something he imagined to pass the time in a dull lecture. Running into the man of your dreams on the street (literally) and spending an amazing day talking and kissing and ending up in bed before a romantic goodbye? It doesn’t happen in real life. And it wouldn’t be the first time Luke’s imagination has run away with him.
But Luke’s got bruises on his hips in the shape of fingers and a bite low on his neck, all of which sting when he presses on them, and he finds himself touching the marks almost obsessively over the next few days. There’s something about that little burst of pain, sharp and sweet, that reassures him he’s sane. Plus, it keeps the memories of his hours with Noah at the forefront of his mind, and that’s never a bad thing. Luke doesn’t know how long it’s going to be before Noah comes back, and he wants to remember every second they spent together.
But after a week, it gets harder to do. The sheets had to be washed, the bruises have faded, and there’s nothing tangible left of Noah, which makes it difficult to believe that the whole thing ever happened. It’s not that Luke doesn’t believe in coincidence or connection at first sight, but things like this just don’t happen to him. Not that he’s had a loveless life, or anything, just that it’s never quite worked out like he’s wanted. After everything that happened with Kevin, he promised himself that he’d never fall for a straight guy again, but as it turned out, falling for a taken gay guy wasn’t really any easier.
It was that particular mess that led to him leaving Oakdale, and he thought that things would be easier in New York – he could be himself without worrying about what people thought, and there’d be a lot more guys like him – but he’s never found what he was looking for. He’s met great guys and dated and had fun, but just never found that special, magical something he was waiting for. He’s seen it with his parents, the way they look at each other sometimes when they think no one else can see, the way that even when things are bad between them, they never get far apart, like gravity draws them back in. That’s all Luke ever wanted, someone to love like that, but he was starting to think it was never going to happen for him.
Until he met Noah. Because they barely know each other, only spent twenty-four hours together, but there was something between them, some kind of crazy chemistry or attraction that was like nothing Luke had ever experienced. It wasn’t just that Noah was nice or handsome or smart (although that helped), there was something about him that made it impossible for Luke to look away, something that left him constantly wanting more.
And he still wants more, he still wants to know everything there is to find out about Noah, to know what he thinks and dreams and likes and hates and how he takes his coffee and what every inch of him tastes like and what it feels like to wake up next to him. But as Luke settles back into the routine of his daily life, going to classes and his work-study job and doing homework, it’s hard to keep hoping he’ll have the chance to learn those things.
That’s when the postcard shows up. It’s a picture of a Brazil’s Rio de Janeiro, sky and mountains and the city spread along the sea, and when he flips it over there’s a message scrawled in pen: Rio’s beautiful. Open sky and sandy beaches as far as you can see.
And then, near the bottom and a little smaller: I liked New York better. His signature’s nearly illegible, but it’s not like Luke knows a lot of seamen whose names start with N.
He carries it around in his jacket pocket for a week and a half, tracing the edges with his thumb every time he reaches in for his keys, and he rereads it so often that he has every word memorized down to the pen strokes, every loop and swirl of Noah’s handwriting burned into his brain. He only takes it out when another comes to take its place.
It goes on for almost two months, sporadic postcards with a picture of a port and a few words about whatever Noah’s doing – hot as hell, looks like rain tomorrow or I’ll never understand Chinese or dying for some real food – and Luke tucks them into the mirror on his dresser in order, so he can see them from his bed.
He doesn’t write back – he doesn’t have any idea how, and he doesn’t know what he’d say, anyway. School’s hard, work sucks, I miss my family, sometimes I can’t believe you’re real. But that’s not something you write on a card or in an email. And that’s kind of the problem. The postcards are nice, but they’re more of a record of Noah’s travels than anything personal. It’s hard to have a one-sided conversation with only the mundane details of your life.
And Noah must think so, too, because that’s when they start to taper off. Three weeks of nothing go by, three weeks of bills and bank statements and the occasional catalog, and when Luke finally spies a bright-colored square in the pile of mail, it’s not the usual – there’s no salutation or signature, just Nothing’s the same in small letters, like its author wasn’t sure he should be writing it – and after that cryptic note, they stop altogether.
Luke tries not to be disappointed. It’s not like he really knows Noah, after all, and there’s only so many things you can say about the various ports of the world. It wasn’t realistic to expect it to go on forever.
But they had something. He knows they did. He’s never invited anyone back to his apartment after one day or one date (he barely ever invites anyone back there anyway – when he’s with a guy, he just prefers to be at their place instead of his), but there was just something about Noah – something in the way they clicked - that made it feel like they’d known each other for a long time. Like this was a logical progression, not a one-time thing but the beginning of something more.
But as days go by and he doesn’t hear anything, he has to wonder if it wasn’t the same for Noah. It hurts to think that what they shared might have meant less to Noah – might have meant nothing – and after a while, it starts to make Luke mad. It doesn’t really matter if Noah never felt it, or if he changed his mind once he left, either way Luke’s alone again and that feeling he had those first few weeks, like anything was possible and his life was going to change, disappears, leaving only his mundane, everyday routine.
But then one Tuesday afternoon he’s walking home from class, tired and wet and most of all pissed about the intermittent rain (the skies were clear when he left, so he doesn’t have an umbrella or a hood, and he’s got his head ducked down, walking as fast as he can) and it’s only when he almost trips over a pair of legs that he realizes there’s someone sitting on the sidewalk in front of his apartment building. Not just someone – Noah.
He’s soaking wet and hunched over, only a duffel bag between him and the cold concrete, but when he looks up and meets Luke’s gaze, it’s like no time has gone by. They’re right back at the pier that night so many weeks ago, still flushed and happy with the knowledge of what they’d done in Luke’s bed, unable to keep their hands off each other, trying to say a goodbye that was more like a promise. Suddenly, the day doesn’t seem nearly as dreary, and the cold droplets of rain sliding down the back of his neck aren’t an annoyance, they’re insignificant. All that matters is that Noah’s here, right in front of him, he’s back. He came back for Luke.
He knows the smile spreading across his face is stupidly big, but he can’t help it. He reaches out without thinking, not knowing exactly what he wants but needing to touch Noah, to know he’s real and have him closer.
* * *
Noah’s been sitting outside Luke’s apartment for three hours. He didn’t know any better way to get in contact with Luke, so it seemed like the logical place to wait. He probably should have gone inside when it started raining – there’s one of those little entryways where he could have hung out – but by the time he actually noticed the downpour he was already soaked and there wasn’t really any point in avoiding it. Besides, he was already doubting everything about this – being here, doing this, his relationship with Luke (if that’s even what it is) – and a little rain didn’t even register on his list of things to worry about. And his thoughts were loud enough as it was, swirling around angrily in his head, and the steady rhythm of the rain drowning them out was a relief.
When he first got there he checked every passerby, looking for Luke, but as the hours went by and his worry increased, he gave up and hoped Luke would see him. Because he’s here. He came back. It’s been five weeks of thinking and agonizing and planning, but he made it back. He’s still not sure what the hell he’s doing or if he made the right choices, but the fact of the matter is, he doesn’t have anywhere else to be. Because when he had a panic attack after realizing that yes, he really did leave the Navy and turn his back on the one constant thing in his life, he also realized that yes, he really did tell his dad he was doing it, which led to a fight of epic proportions and means he’s pretty much disowned and out of a place to live. The plane tickets to New York took a chunk of his savings, and since he doesn’t have a job anymore either, really all he has at this point is Luke. Some New York college students that he (literally) ran into, spent the day with, and had amazing sex with. That’s it.
That’s not nothing, nowhere near it, but it’s still a pretty shaky reason to abandon a career, and Noah can’t help panicking at least a little over the total uncertainty of his future. He’s here, he came back, but he can’t do much more than that right now. Just be here and hope Luke finds him.
He does, of course. A pair of feet stutter to a stop in front of Noah, and when he looks up, it’s Luke, looking even better than he remembers him, damp hair curling at the edges and a smile on his face bigger than any skyscraper. Seeing Luke is like that first sip of hot chocolate on a chilly day – just the sight of him sends a sweet warmth through Noah that settles his churning stomach and quiets his chaotic thoughts. He reaches out a hand, and Noah takes it automatically, jerking to his feet. It’s a simple touch, but that contact brings everything rushing back to him – the sheer amount of feeling he has for Luke, the visceral tug in his chest, that need to be closer – everything that drew him to Luke in the first place. Luke’s hand, warm and strong around Noah’s, makes everything a little better.
But Luke’s warm hand also makes it clear how cold Noah’s is in contrast, and he realizes he’s actually shivering in the early evening air, freezing after so many hours sitting out in the rain. Luke notices right away, face sliding from happiness to concern, and he slides his other hand around Noah’s immediately, rubbing them together.
Noah opens his mouth to say something, he’s not sure what – hello, maybe, or I don’t know what I’m doing or I’m not sure I should even be here – but Luke stops him with a shake of his head. “We need to get you inside and warmed up.”
He shifts his messenger bag on his shoulder, leaning around Noah to grab his duffel bag with one hand, and drags him inside with the other. He’s all business, getting them inside and up the stairs and unlocking his door, and Noah barely has a second to look around Luke’s apartment before he’s being divested of his coat and shoes and pushed toward the bathroom.
But that’s okay, because Luke turns the shower on as hot as it will go, warm steam filling the tiny space, and Noah can feel it seeping into his pores almost immediately, chasing away the chill. Luke helps him out of the rest of his clothes with a brisk efficiency and pushes Noah inside, and just the feel of the warm spray on his cold, aching body is heaven on earth. But then there’s a gust of chilly air followed by a warm body behind him, and that’s even better.
Luke doesn’t say anything, just a solid presence as Noah’s shivers slow in the hazy warmth, but his hands skim over Noah’s skin, smooth and unhurried, and there’s just something in the way Luke touches him – careful but firm, patient, almost reverent – that relaxes even the most stubborn tension from Noah’s muscles. He soaks it up for a few minutes, letting Luke’s hands work the worry out and warm him up. Then Luke presses a gentle kiss to the back of his neck, tracing the top of his spine with a swirl of his tongue, and this time Noah’s shiver has nothing to do with temperature. He’s been lost in his head all day, overanalyzing and coming up with endless what-ifs, but trust Luke to know exactly how to ground him here, in this moment and this place, and remind him that this insane connection they share is stronger than any stress.
He pushes away all the concerns he’s been freaking out about and turns around to give Luke the attention he deserves. Luke’s hair is slicked back, cheeks flushed and eyelashes spiky, and he’s looking at Noah like he can’t believe this is really happening. Noah reaches out, cupping his face in both hands, and gives Luke the hello kiss he should have a long time ago.
It’s slow at first, tentative with three months’ hesitation, but then Luke makes a small noise in the back of his throat that sends Noah’s stomach swooping, and all of a sudden it’s like the sense memory floods back in a rush and he remembers exactly how to fit his mouth against Luke’s. Luke responds immediately, hands clenching around Noah’s biceps as he pushes in as close as he can get, and it’s only when Noah’s hand slips down Luke’s neck and brushes over his racing pulse that he recognizes the edge of desperation in the way they’re touching each other. Luke was just as worried about this as he is, they’re both scared, and neither of them really knows what the hell they’re doing.
It’s weirdly reassuring, and when Noah pulls back to suck in a quick breath, he realizes he’s already come to a decision. He rearranged his entire life for Luke, whether he should have or not, and he wants to have him. He doesn’t know exactly how to communicate that, how to tell Luke that all he wants right now is to touch every inch of him, have every part of him, be together in every way, but that’s okay. Words have never been his strong suit, and this is the kind of thing best expressed through action, anyway.
He doesn’t think about it. He turns Luke and presses him back into the tile in one move, and then before he knows it he’s down on his knees, looking up at Luke’s startled face. Luke hisses and arches away from the cold tile, involuntary reaction, but it brings his hips that much closer to Noah’s face, and that’s pretty much his cue. He takes Luke’s hips in his hands, pushing him back against the wall, and when Luke says, “Oh, God. Fuck,” voice shaky, Noah leans in and gives Luke’s cock an experimental lick.
He’s never done this before, and it should be kind of terrifying, taking another guy’s dick into his mouth and trying to get him off, but it’s not. It’s just Luke, and even if Noah has no idea what the hell he’s doing, he just wants to be this close to him, to do something so intimate and know, beyond a doubt, that Luke is his.
And it’s not like he’s totally clueless – he definitely knows what feels good on the other end, after all – so he just wings it, licking and sucking and taking as much as he can. Luke’s hands curl around his head, sliding through his wet hair, and if the sounds coming from Luke’s mouth – a mix of moans and curses – are anything to go by, Noah thinks he’s doing all right. He relaxes into it, picking up his pace a little, and pulls back to try something, just a flick of his tongue that seems like a good idea. It’s a good thing he’s got Luke’s hips pinned against the wall, because it makes Luke gasp and jerk forward, hands tightening in Noah’s hair. It sends a pleased rush through Noah, that he did that, but it only lasts a second, because then Luke’s tugging at his hair and saying breathlessly, “No, Noah, stop.”
Noah panics for a second, wondering if he messed up or did something wrong, but when Luke hauls him to his feet, the first thing he does is pull Noah in for a hard, rough kiss, teeth bumping as they come together with bruising force. He bites down a little on Noah’s bottom lip, just hard enough for a spark of hurt, and when Noah gasps and pulls back, a little dazed, Luke looks up at him with dark eyes and says, “Bed. I don’t want to come till you’re inside me.”
Jesus. It makes him sound like a girl, but there’s no other way to say it: the rush of heat that engulfs him at those words actually makes Noah a little weak in the knees. Luke flashes him a grin, pushing past him to turn off the water, and even though Noah could use a second to process the flip from shower blowjobs to honest-to-god sex, there’s no way he’s getting left behind.
They don’t bother drying off. The chilly apartment air is a sharp contrast to the bathroom’s steamy warmth, but thankfully the bedroom’s just a few steps away, because when Luke pushes Noah back on the bed and climbs on top of him, Noah can’t remember what it ever felt like to be cold.
Luke’s hands are all over him, slipping through drops of water as he strokes and touches, and it’s kind of crazy, how even the lightest touch of his hands feels amazing, like the memory of the last time they did this is buried in Noah’s skin. Noah returns the favor, sliding hands down Luke’s back to bring their hips closer. Because while what Luke said earlier was possibly the hottest thing he’s ever heard, even this would be enough, just being this close to Luke again.
Luke, though, has other ideas. He pulls back and sits up, stretching over the side of the bed, digging in a drawer, and when he comes back, it’s with lube and a condom, which he sets on Noah’s stomach as he lays down next to him on the bed. Noah picks up the condom, willing his hands steady, and tries to concentrate long enough to get it on himself. It’s not easy, not knowing what he’s going to be doing in a few minutes, but it gets a lot harder when he hears a gasp next to him and looks over. Because Luke apparently decided to take care of the lube thing himself, and the sight of him biting his lip in concentration as he slides fingers in and out of himself makes it pretty damn hard to think about anything else. Next time, Noah’s doing that – he’s going to be the one working Luke open with his fingers, causing those noises – but right now, whatever gets them to the sex part faster is okay with him. Because touching himself to slick on lube makes it clear just how close he is, and he’s pretty sure that if they don’t do this soon, he might actually die.
Thankfully, that’s when Luke says, “Okay, ready,” and then after a minute of moving and rearranging, they end up with Noah between Luke’s legs, eyes locked together. There’s a second where Noah almost panics, because Luke isn’t a girl and that renders a hell of a lot of his past experience with this worthless, but Luke’s looking up at him with absolute trust, waiting patiently, and just that – that Luke has faith in him, even when his life’s kind of a mess – is enough to encourage him.
Which is a good thing, because it turns out that being inside Luke is pretty much the best thing ever. Noah tries to be careful, to watch for any sign that he’s hurting Luke, but it’s hard to do that when it feels like his head might explode. Luckily, Luke’s just as impatient, and when Noah tries to pause and give him a second to adjust, Luke pulls him closer, arching up into him like he can’t get enough, needs more, and Noah is more than happy to go with that, to move the way his body desperately wants to.
It’s hard to focus on anything other than how good it is, a mix of mind-numbing pleasure on the physical end and the thrill of having Luke under him, around him, watching him through half-closed eyes like he doesn’t dare let Noah out of his sight, but Noah does know a little something about sex with guys (he knows how to use the internet just as well as anyone else, and it’s not like porn is hard to find) so he concentrates on shifting his hips just right, changing the angle and looking for that one spot.
Thankfully, he doesn’t have to wonder for long if he’s doing it right – Luke jerks suddenly, fingers digging into Noah’s back, mouth falling open on a moan, and that’s definitely something good. Better, even, when Luke’s hand slides up and off Noah’s shoulder, drifting over his own chest and stomach like he can’t help himself before wrapping around his cock. Because Noah’s pretty sure he’s supposed to be doing that, it’s probably the polite thing to do when an extremely hot guy you barely know lets you fuck him, but Jesus fuck is it hot to watch Luke do that to himself. They’re both close, and Luke doesn’t mess around, stroking himself fast and hard, knuckles brushing up against the sensitive skin on Noah’s stomach. Any other time Noah would be watching carefully, taking it all in and making mental notes for next time, but right now he’s got his hands full trying to keep his head from exploding as his orgasm comes rushing up on him and everything gets lost in a wave of pleasure.
He holds on tight to Luke and rides it out the best he can, hoping his grip will keep him from flying apart. He’s a little dizzy with it when he can finally breathe again, but Luke’s right there, clinging to him just as tightly, and they share a shaky, awed smile at what just happened. Noah lets his head drop down onto Luke’s shoulder and lets the feeling flow through him with every breath, taking a minute just to be. Be with Luke, who he’s pretty sure he’s in love with, even though they’re practically strangers, and forget about everything else outside this bed.
Luke, who strokes a gentle hand up his back to cradle his head, seems to feel the same way.
* * *
Eventually, they get up and shift around. Noah doesn’t really want to, but even through the haze of awesome sex he knows that he’ll regret it if they don’t. They clean up and resettle, curling close under the covers. Noah’s never really been a cuddler before, in the few opportunities he’s had, but right now a future consisting of him and Luke together in this bed forever sounds pretty damn good.
Especially when Luke shifts a little and Noah catches a flash of color out of the corner of his eye. He didn’t exactly have time to check out the room when he first came in – there were other, more pressing issues at hand – but now he sees that the bright squares stuck in the edge of Luke’s mirror are postcards. His postcards.
They’re neatly lined up, a span of time and the steps between there and now, and the blank space at the end is like an empty roll of film, just waiting to be filled in with moments from their future. Noah’s always had trouble with that, picturing himself days or years from now – he had vague plans, tentative goals, but nothing certain – and it’s kind of crazy how Luke crashing into his life has made it so easy to imagine a solid future.
“Missed you,” Luke says softly into his shoulder, like he knows exactly what Noah’s thinking. Noah pulls him a little closer to say me too, and lets his eyes drift shut to enjoy the sheer contentment that being here with Luke affords.
But that’s reality’s cue to intrude, in the form of Noah’s growling stomach. He blushes, sheepish, but Luke just laughs. “Hungry, huh?”
Noah shrugs. “Didn’t really have time to eat earlier.” Turns out his stomach’s reaction to leaving his carefully ordered life behind was a lot like his dad’s – angry and upset.
Luke lets out a long breath, then rolls out of bed.
“Wait, what are you doing?” Noah asks, pushing up on an elbow as Luke grabs a pair of pajama pants from the floor and pulls them on.
“Making you something to eat,” Luke says like it’s obvious, digging through a pile of folded laundry.
“That’s not – you don’t have to,” Noah says awkwardly.
Luke just rolls his eyes and throws another pair of pants at Noah’s head. “C’mon, you can help.”
And now that Noah’s thinking about it, he really is hungry. Starving, actually, and the sound of Luke opening the fridge and a skillet smacking down on the stove is enough to get him out of bed and into some clothes. The pants are soft flannel, comfortable and well-worn, and Noah’s stomach does a little flip at the thought of Luke wearing them before him. That, even more than the lure of food, sends him out into the kitchen area.
Luke’s cracking eggs into a bowl as butter sizzles in a skillet, but his hands falter when he sees Noah come out in his clothes. He doesn’t hide the heat in his eyes, and Noah blushes a little but holds his gaze, letting a smile spread across his face. “You said I could help?”
Luke blinks. “Oh, um. Yeah. Here.” He piles vegetables onto a cutting board and sets it on the table with a knife. “Chop, please.”
Noah sits obediently, slicing peppers and onions into neat piles, and Luke comes back after a few minutes to scoop them up and toss them in the frying pan as he beats the eggs. From there it’s pretty much a one-man show, and Noah leans back in his chair and just takes it in, watching as Luke moves around the kitchen grabbing this and that and humming absent-mindedly as he stirs. His hair is standing up crazily in the back, and it makes Noah want to run his hands through it. It’s an odd moment, and mundanely domestic and yet totally foreign, something Noah never thought he’d be having with anyone, much less someone he met a few months ago.
And as much as he wants to just enjoy this, to let the peace of it wash over him without analyzing it, he can’t. He can’t help but worry that this is too good, too much, too soon. It’s crazy, really, any way you look at it, and without the distraction of the chopping, his mind’s free to come up with all kinds of ways this could go wrong.
He doesn’t even realize how caught up in it he is until a plate being set down in front of him startles him out of his thoughts.
“What’s wrong?” Luke asks, sliding into the chair across from him.
Noah doesn’t want to ruin the meal, so he just shrugs, reaching for a fork and digging in. The eggs taste bland and rubbery in his mouth, though, and after forcing down two bites he realizes he’s totally lost his appetite.
Luke’s still watching him expectantly, and Noah sighs. “It’s just – I don’t know what I’m doing.”
“You’re eating my extremely lame attempt at an omelet,” Luke says lightly.
And Noah would love to make it a joke too, but he can’t. This is his entire life, and he’s never just changed it all before, never felt so unsure and adrift. “I mean, I don’t know what I’m doing here.”
Luke sets down his fork, serious now.
“I left the Navy,” Noah continues. “I don’t have a job. I don’t have a place to live. I don’t have much money. I don’t have any idea what I’ll be doing tomorrow or in a week or in a year. And you, you’re – you’re amazing, and this is incredible, but I barely know anything about you. I don’t know your favorite color or how you take your coffee or your middle name or anything.” He spreads his hands. “I don’t know if I’m doing the right thing.”
Luke looks down at the table, and for a long minute Noah thinks he isn’t going to say anything at all. It doesn’t help with the panic attack he’s got going on.
But then Luke takes a deep breath and meets Noah’s gaze head-on. “The first time I fell in love, it was with my best friend. He was straight, and he was never really cool with me being gay.”
Luke smiles a little, tight and unhappy, and Noah’s torn between being totally confused and wanting to punch this asshole, whoever he is.
“I was in love with him for years. I knew almost everything there was to know about him,” Luke goes on, and just when Noah’s starting to wonder exactly how this confession is supposed to be making him feel better instead of stupidly jealous, Luke reaches out for his hand. “Noah, nothing with him ever felt anything like this.”
He waves a hand, encompassing them, the room, everything. “This, whatever it is between us, this crazy connection – I think something like it only comes around once in a lifetime. You can’t create it or even change it.” He squeezes Noah’s hand. “That’s what’s important. The rest we can figure out.”
And Noah wants so badly to believe him, but nothing in his life has ever been this easy, this effortlessly good. It’s hard to let go and just be with Luke when there’s so much uncertainty.
Luke seems to understand. “Like a job and a place to live and everything,” he continues, rubbing Noah’s thumb with his own. “You can live here, of course – rent’s not a problem – and you can get a job nearby if you want, or we can find out about scholarships at colleges. My grandma’s pretty good at pulling strings if we need a little extra help. And all the other stuff? All we need is time to learn.” He grins, that impish little-boy smile that lights up his whole face and never fails to spark something warm in Noah’s chest. “But just in case, the answers are red, cream and two sugars, and Eduardo.”
It takes Noah a second to catch on, but then he can’t help but laugh. “Good to know. Mine are blue, black, and Thomas.”
The lighter turn to the conversation helps, but Noah’s still a little shaky, and Luke knows it. There’s a long moment where he just waits, watching Noah patiently, and Noah wonders how he does it. How he just lays it all out there, takes his heart in his hands and holds it out without any guarantee he won’t get hurt. But Luke’s been waiting this whole time, he suddenly realizes, waiting since the moment he said goodbye on the sidewalk, and through it all he’s made it clear that he’s offering everything, anything Noah could possibly want, and all he has to do is take it. It’s taken him months to get his head around this, to find his way back, but now he’s here, and he finally gets it – all he has to do is take what Luke’s offering. All he can do is take it.
He takes a deep breath and lets it out slowly, the tension draining from his body. Luke’s watching him carefully, waiting for any kind of sign, so he raises an eyebrow playfully. “Eduardo? Really?”
Luke rolls his eyes, but he’s grinning. “Long story.”
Noah nods. “This is the craziest thing I’ve ever done,” he says, words rushed and just a little shaky. “Just so you know. But - “ He ducks his head a little. “But also the best.”
“Same here,” Luke says quietly. “Thank you for coming back.” This time he doesn’t hesitate to say it. “Thank you for coming back to me.”
Noah shrugs. “I don’t think it could have been any other way,” he says honestly. “Once I met you, it was just…like fate, or something.”
Luke laughs. “Maybe we knew each other in a past life.”
“Maybe.” Noah spares a second’s thought for how much harder that would have been, this irresistible attraction to Luke in an even less accepting time. “Do you think this would have worked, in some other universe or reality?”
Luke doesn’t even waste a second thinking about it. “I think that no matter who we were, no matter where we met, we’d still feel like this about each other,” he says. “And I know that I’d do whatever it takes to be with you.”
“Yeah,” Noah says, thinking about everything he’s left behind and how unimportant it seems right now. “Same here.”
This whole thing is still scary as hell, but he can’t give this up. He can’t go back, and he can’t change how he feels. So he smiles at Luke, squeezing his hand, and gives in. He has no idea what the hell he’s going to do tomorrow or next week or next year, but he’s going to do it with Luke at his side.
And when Luke smiles back at him, for the first time in a long time, he feels like he’s home.