FIC: Someday Somebody
Title: Someday Somebody
Author: carolinablu85
Pairing: Luke/Noah
Rating: PG-13ish?
Word Count: 6,180
Warnings: very bright Christmas lights
Summary: How to go from a ‘you and me’ to an ‘us’ in 12 not-so-easy Christmas steps, but without the partridge.
Disclaimer: I own absolutely nothing. Also, this is based oh so so so sooooooo loosely, the loosest of loosely, on the “12 Days of Christmas” song. Barely. Loosely.
A/N: Happy holiday(s) Ronnie! Love you lots, and you deserve way more than this, but here goes! I got your Christmas lights in here, and some fluff and sweetness with only the hintiness hints of angst. And some bonus drawings because, like I said, you deserve way more :)
**12**
Luke kicked the door shut behind him with a satisfying slam. “And... done,” he called out. “Time?”
There was a quiet laugh from the living room. “Only twenty minutes later than you swore it would take to get back from the parking garage.”
“Well hey,” he grinned, walked into the living room, and dropped the box he’d been lugging onto the couch. “If you factor in how late I normally am, this is practically on time.”
Noah glanced up from where he sat surrounded by more boxes. “If there’s one thing I love about you, it’s that you’re so logical,” he said dryly.
Luke made a face. “Give me some time, I bet I can remind you of a few other things you love about me.” He slowly moved to sit down next to him, sliding a hand along Noah’s thigh.
“But what would you do with the rest of the minute?” Noah blinked innocently, a smile just barely starting to play with his lips.
Luke’s hand stopped sliding, smacking Noah instead. “Funny. So funny.” He looked around the apartment, at all the boxes they still had to unpack and the very little space they had to do it. “Where are we going to put all this stuff? It’s a lot of stuff. We have too much stuff.”
“Welcome to New York,” Noah grinned now, leaning over to kiss Luke’s forehead. “We’ll make it work.”
“We had so much more space in LA,” Luke grabbed a box, pulling piles of books out.
“We had more money then too,” Noah kissed him again, more of an exaggerated smack this time. “This’ll be great.”
It was the closest Noah had come to teasing him. Luke had made a personal vow last year, when they first started talking about leaving LA for New York, to only spend money he himself had earned. It made sense. He’d been given that money by family to take care of him, help him achieve his dreams.
And along the way the past few years, he’d learned he could do those things for himself. And with Noah, he could have a life he’d dreamed of. So the Walsh/Grimaldi money was staying where it was until a time came when maybe he could pass it along to his own children.
He hadn’t told Noah that part. Yet.
But it also meant that now, since Noah’s two films had done well in LA and he saved his earnings like he was in Silas Marner, Noah technically had more money than Luke. (Not that you’d know it by the way he continued to dress.) Noah never teased Luke about it, but it didn’t really matter since Casey did. And Faith. And Aaron and Holden and Jade and (why God why) Ameera.
Luke was determined not let the teasing become real. He wasn’t going to be a trophy wife. So he merged his foundation with Grimaldi Shipping to do outreach with other cities and countries, basing it in New York. He and Noah would rely on each other.
It was why they had selected an apartment where they could split the expenses and rent. Which was why they were in a fourth floor walkup, with rusty pipes, with neighbors whose footsteps sounded like bass drums, and with a closet the size of a tablespoon. (Or teaspoon. He couldn’t remember which was smaller, but it was that one.) And with a-
“Here,” Noah leaned into him again, draping a strand of Christmas lights around his shoulders with another kiss, smiling so happily. “We can put the tree in this corner. And some lights in the window.”
Luke loved it all.
**11**
“Hand me the shiny thing by your left hand,” Noah’s voice was muffled, his own hand reaching out.
“You know,” Luke tried to put a glare in his tone since Noah couldn’t see him. “I grew up on a farm. I helped my dad fix tractors all the time. I know what a wrench is. You can just say wrench.”
“Yeah, but you get so cute when you’re indignant,” Noah obviously put a grin in his tone right back.
Luke settled down more comfortably next to Noah’s outstretched legs, as the upper half of him was hidden under the sink. “Congratulations,” Luke handed him the wrench. “You’re probably the first person in history to use the word ‘indignant’ while fixing a gross, rusty pipe. If that’s even what you’re doing.”
There were a few clangs and squeaky metal noises. “You’re doubting me? I’m hurt, Snyder. Hurt.” He bumped his knee into Luke. “I don’t even know why I do these things for you.”
Luke moved quickly to sit on top of Noah’s legs. “What was that?”
Noah stilled under him. “What are you doing?” No more metal clangs under the sink.
“Helping,” Luke said oh-so-innocently, letting his hands wander just a little around a belt buckle, across a small strip of skin visibly where Noah’s shirt had ridden up.
“Um,” was Noah’s very intelligent reply.
“Isn’t this a good incentive to get this stuff fixed?” he asked casually, as though he wasn’t aware of his own hand. “You know, why you do these things for me?” His hand trailed lower, just past the waistband of his-
He wasn’t sure how Noah moved so fast without hitting his head and giving himself a concussion, but Luke barely had time to blink before there were long arms around him holding him in place, lips on his. “Not good incentive,” Noah groaned into his mouth. “Not good at all.”
“You’re dirty and wet,” Luke complained, kissing him harder.
“Mm-hm,” Noah tugged at his shirt.
“Pipe’s not fixed yet,” he pointed out, pulling at Noah’s belt again.
“That’s a shame.”
“You still have to-” they were walk-stumbling each other towards the bedroom- “still have to replace the bulbs for the Christmas lights.”
“Yep,” Noah’s mouth went lower, down his neck, down his chest.
“We have to get the-”
“Luke,” Noah smiled against his skin, he could feel it. “Shut up, please.” And then he proceeded to make him.
**10**
“It’s only four blocks, we can make it,” Luke argued, peering out the cafe’s window.
Noah peered out right next to him. “No way.”
“It’s just rain,” he said, pouting a little.
“No, this is what we call a downpour,” Noah smiled at the pout- he always did- but remained firm. “This is when those Noah’s Ark jokes? Aren’t so crazy. Let’s wait it out another hour.”
“Come on, whatever happened to the ‘You jump I jump, Jack?’ stuff?” Luke wove their fingers together and pulled Noah towards the door. “I’m tired, I want to go home. I want to lay on our lumpy couch.” He smiled winningly. “I’m jumping, Jack.”
“Didn’t he die?” Noah was pouting now, which meant Luke was about to win. “In freezing cold water?”
“Fine you can stay here while I go,” Luke reached for the doorknob with his other hand. “I just hope nothing happens to me on the way. I hope I don’t fall and break my ankle, or get mugged. By myself.”
Noah pouted some more, sighed, and freed his hand long enough to zip up Luke’s coat for him. Grabbing Luke’s hand again, he grimaced, bracing himself. “Fine. We’ll make a run for it.” He paused for a moment. “Brat.”
“Hey, it’s one more of those things you love about me,” he grinned, squeezing his hand. “Four blocks. Ready?”
“No.”
“Set?”
“No.”
“Go!” Luke yanked the door open and started running, knowing without knowing that Noah was keeping up with him. Because that’s what Noah always did.
They dashed down the street, leaping over puddles at the crosswalks, swearing and- somehow- laughing. And as Luke ran, Noah’s hand tight around his, honking horns and cabs flying past, Christmas lights from the shops reflecting in the rain, he realized that if Noah ever asked him to...
He’d totally jump.
**9**
Luke had to remind himself that this was a charity event. He was not allowed to hit an old lady at a charity event. There was probably a rule against that somewhere.
So instead he kept the polite smile on his face as the woman whose name he’d already forgotten continued to prattle on about her lovely grandson who was getting married to a lovely girlfriend and they were already planning three lovely babies (“good genetics those kids have, isn’t it lovely how they can carry on the family name and everything?”).
And he kept smiling as her prattling went so sympathetic and pitying (“bless your parents, they must have gone through a quite a time when you became gay, do they still want you to have kids?”) and just as he was about to snap-
An arm, warm and perfect and anchoring, slid easily into place around him. “I’m sorry ma’am, you’ll have to excuse us,” Noah smiled that charmingly shy Boy Scout smile. “My boyfriend owes me a dance. Enjoy the rest of your evening.” And before he was even done speaking, Noah had managed to turn Luke completely out of Evil Old Lady’s orbit.
Luke let out a heavy breath, sagging a little into Noah as they walked. “You’re the best boyfriend ever. I love you. I hope her lovely grandchildren have twelve toes and green hair.”
He felt Noah’s laugh, his arm tightening around his waist. “That’s not very charitable of you.”
“What, they could still walk with twelve toes,” Luke argued, grumbling under his breath. “And they can dye their hair. Let’s just see if Evil Old Lady would love them for how they’re born and not-”
Noah turned him a little more, so they were facing each other, and kissed him lightly. Just enough to silence him. “You haven’t eaten yet tonight, have you? You always get extra cranky when you haven’t-”
“Noah, shut up and kiss me again,” Luke held the back of Noah’s neck, pulled him in for another. When he eased back, he finally looked around. “Wait, why are we on the dance floor?”
Noah raised an eyebrow. “I wasn’t lying to Evil Old Lady. You owe me a dance.” He shrugged a little as he said it, that way he got when he was suddenly second-guessing himself. “If you want to?”
Luke answered by throwing both arms around Noah’s shoulders, hugging him tighter and tighter until Noah let out a soft, happy sigh, his arms wrapping back around Luke’s waist. They swayed together, maybe not technically dancing, but Luke technically didn’t care. The sights and sounds of everyone around them faded away. With the Christmas lights dancing around them, it felt like they were the only people in the room.
**8**
Everything hurt.
Luke groaned as much as he could, ending it with a pitiful cough. He ached all over. His head weighed at least three hundred pounds. He was tired and cold and hot and tired some more.
So maybe he was sick.
He turned a little more into the couch, burying his face in the armrest, trying to muffle another cough. “Blech,” was the noise that came out. His nose was stuffed up, and even the tiny tiny shine of Christmas lights made his head hurt. He kept his eyes shut tight so they wouldn’t burn and tear up again.
With his eyes closed, he could only hear the movement around him and was only a little startled when a weight dropped onto the couch with him. “Well?” Noah asked softly, his hand cool and comforting against his forehead.
“Blech,” he said again.
Noah laughed, managing to sound sympathetic. Before Luke could scold him for it anyway, there was more movement and sound, and then that weight was lying next to him, wedging between him and the back of the couch, drawing him close.
Luke sighed, relaxing into Noah’s arms and leaning back against him, trying to match the even rise and fall of his breaths. And failing. He started coughing again, grimacing even as he tried to smile when Noah tightened his hold around him, one hand coming up to rub circles along his chest, soothing.
When he finally caught his breath, he grumbled some more. “If you say,” he pulled Noah’s other hand into his, squeezing. “That this is because I ran in the rain,” he squeezed harder. “I’ll cough on you.”
Noah laughed again, rumbling against Luke’s back. “You already are coughing on me.”
“I’ll cough harder,” he warned, miserable. He kept his eyes closed, sinking more into Noah, who just held on, one leg draping over both of Luke’s, his forehead resting in Luke’s hair.
“Call in sick tomorrow,” Noah said in reply, nudging his nose playfully against Luke’s ear. “I will too. We can spend the day here, watch some movies, make sure you actually take your medicine...”
“AKA, babysit me,” he kept grumbling, mostly because he wanted to even though he was fighting back a smile. They hadn’t spent a day playing hooky in... wow, years, probably. Since they were both in college. And that idea, having Noah all to himself, on the couch, for a whole day- it sounded like maybe the best idea ever.
“Wow, you’re welcome,” Noah teased, as though he knew just what Luke was thinking. He kissed the back of Luke’s neck softly, hugging tighter again.
Luke couldn’t stop himself from humming a little, content with the right now that was happening. “Will you cook, then?” he asked, making sure his voice sounded as scratchy and pitiful as possible.
“We don’t have any food in the apartment, baby,” Noah reminded him. “I’ll order your favorite takeout.”
Not good enough. “But you make it so much better,” he not-whined, letting his voice strain and break a little with every other word. “You have Grandma Emma’s recipes, no one else in this city does.” He coughed a few times, sniffling for added effect.
Noah was quiet for a moment, then sighed. “Don’t think I don’t know you’re milking this for all it’s worth,” he murmured into Luke’s ear, the teasing still there despite his tone. “Want me to go grocery shopping now or in the morning?”
“Morning,” he said immediately, pulling Noah’s arm closer around him. “Don’t move right now. ‘Kay?”
“Okay,” Noah complied easily, folding himself around Luke, both of them curling together on the couch.
Luke kept his eyes closed, soaking in the quiet, the warmth of Noah against him, and ignoring the grossness in his head. It worked just until-
“Next time you’ll listen to me and not run in the rain, right?”
“I hate you.”
**7**
Luke grabbed a towel as he left the basketball court, managing to wipe at his face with one hand and wave to his 'team' with the other. He smirked and rolled his eyes at the few catcalls that followed him; they all knew he was headed down to the pool.
There were a couple nice perks to the apartment, and one was a gym right down the block. They had vowed very early on not to be one of 'those' couples that worked out together (it was a step too close to matching outfits, Luke pointed out), so they usually split up as soon as they got in, Luke heading for the basketball court and Noah to swim laps. Luke always liked to get done first and meet Noah there for, well, purely selfish reasons.
He pushed the last door open, the echoey sounds and sharp chlorine smell hitting him first. He winced a little, it was something he'd never get used to. He liked swimming in ponds, thank you very much. But hey, the pool kept Noah looking... the way he did, so Luke wasn't really about to complain. He scanned the pool right away, but couldn't spot Noah.
But then there was that laugh. The one Luke couldn't help but smile at. He smiled now, turning to the right. There was Noah, having just climbed out of the pool, a towel slung over one shoulder. He was talking to Quentin, the guy Noah had introduced him to two weeks ago. He was a photographer, maybe, in Soho. Something with cameras. And he usually worked out at the same times Noah did.
Luke watched them from afar, laughing and joking around, Quentin mock-angrily smacking Noah's shoulder. Luke watched, and waited for it to happen. Waited for the burning combination of jealousy and craziness to take him over. Come on, the guy was laughing with Noah, liked cameras, had even just touched his bare shoulder. Luke would be seething with self-doubt and rage right now.
It never came.
Luke was a little surprised with himself, he had to admit. But it never came. He trusted Noah. He trusted them. He spent a moment, searching, and there wasn’t a doubt in him anywhere that Noah didn’t love him, wasn’t his, would leave him.
Noah loved him, Noah was his, Noah wasn’t going anywhere. It didn’t drive him crazy and it didn’t scare him anymore. Luke let himself smile a little wider.
Of course, the door to a gym’s public swimming pool probably wasn’t the place to have this revelation. Luke moved forward again, coming up behind Noah and wrapping his arms around his waist. “Hey, Speedo. Ready?”
Noah turned his head enough to see Luke, and the way his face lit up brighter than any Christmas lights solidified it for Luke. Noah loved him, Noah was his. “You have got to stop calling me that,” Noah grumbled, kissing him lightly.
“Why?” Luke fluttered his eyelashes innocently. “Maybe if I say it enough, it’ll come true.” Quentin laughed, waved his goodbyes, and (very wisely) left them alone.
Noah turned fully in Luke’s arms, hooking his own around Luke’s back. “This fantasy of yours is slightly disturbing, I hope you know.” He knocked his forehead playfully into Luke’s. “You’re never getting me into a Speedo.”
“Oh baby,” Luke laughed, kissed him right back. “I’ve got all the time in the world to change your mind.”
**6**
“I can’t believe it’s not colder out,” Luke complained, wrapping his arm tighter around Noah’s as they walked, just ’cause. “Kids aren’t even wearing puffy coats.”
“Puffy coats?” Noah half asked, half laughed.
Luke waved his other hand. “You know, the big fat coats with feathers in them.”
“Down coats,” Noah supplied, his free arm going light and steady around Luke’s shoulders.
“Puffy coats,” Luke corrected anyway, waving again, this time to get Noah to pipe down. “Either way, it’s just weird. It’s Christmas, kids should be... bundled up. Not playing tag in the sunshine.”
“And yet,” Noah tugged on Luke’s shoulders, bringing him right into Noah’s side as they turned a corner and left the park. “If it was freezing and snowy, you’d complain about that too.”
“Even the animals are still out,” he kept on, barely a glare in his boyfriend’s direction. “Those kids were trying to play Duck Duck Goose with actual geese. It’s not right.”
“Yeah, how dare those children be happy and laughing. It’s not right,” Noah pinched his ear, pulling his hand back before Luke could slap it away.
“Shut up.” They neared the corner of the block, stopping just under the giant tree that stretched out from the park. “Our kids are going to have snow for Christmas, got that?”
And then promptly froze. Because why the hell had he just said that?
Noah went still right along with him, but he was looking at Luke, almost searching his face. Reading it. And then, making Luke even more numb, he- very slowly- closed his eyes. “Hey Luke?”
“Y-yeah?”
Noah pulled his arm free of Luke’s shoulders, hand going into his pocket. “I have a, um, a question for you.”
**5**
“A question,” Luke repeated, still numb. The street lamp above them slowly flickered to life, giving them a completely unnecessary spotlight for whatever this was.
“Yeah.” And now Noah was doing that self-doubty thing again, the little shrugging, the lip-biting, even (uh-oh) the blushing. “Um, look-”
“Oh my God,” Luke couldn’t help it, couldn’t stop himself, even if it meant ruining Noah’s momentum. “You’re- oh my God.”
But he couldn’t help it, really, because Noah had pulled his hand back out of his pocket. And was now holding a box. A tiny, black, velvet-y looking box. “I wasn’t going to do it here, I had a plan,” Noah spoke a little faster than normal, softly. “But I don’t think I can wait.”
“Noah,” Luke’s voice shook, he could hear it. He didn’t care, but he could hear it.
Noah was looking more at the box than at him. “I don’t want to wait to ask. I want- I want us to be engaged, right now, Luke. I don’t want to have to wait another minute to say you’re my- that we’re... I want to marry you, Luke. You’re a brat and you’re crazy and stubborn and really need to stop singing in the shower and I want you to marry me.” He finally forced his eyes up to Luke’s. “If you-”
Luke didn’t let him finish. He grabbed the front of Noah’s coat and pulled hard, kissing him hard, then harder. “You-” another kiss. “You’re such a-” maybe another kiss.
“Yeah, well, it’s your fault,” Noah murmured against his lips, a giant, relieved, more-than-giddy smile finally coming through. “You always make my plans difficult.”
“Better,” Luke corrected, brushing his hand through Noah’s hair, playing with strands, kissing him again. “I make your plans better.” He finally paused to catch his breath, looking down at the box again. “I can’t believe you...”
With slightly shaking hands (Luke pretended not to notice), Noah finally opened it, lifting for Luke to see the two simple gold rings inside. “For you.”
“One for you, one for me?” he asked breathlessly. It was suddenly and really catching up to him. Rings. Marriage. Noah.
It was real. It was perfect.
“One for you, one for me,” Noah confirmed. He pulled both out, then reached for Luke’s hand, sliding one onto his finger. Luke could feel the weight of it there, and it was a good weight. He looked back up at Noah, pretty sure there was a ridiculous grin on his face, and slid the other ring onto Noah’s finger. Noah dropped his forehead to rest against Luke’s, grinning just as wide. “I’m gonna marry you, Luke Snyder.”
Luke grinned, tilted his chin up to get another kiss, slower, softer. Real, perfect. “Same here.”
**4**
"Have you set a date yet?" the words came out as a screech more than a question.
Luke sighed. Silently. "No, Mom, not yet. No plans yet. We're not in a rush for the, uh, ceremony part. And Noah's too swamped with his movie right now anyway."
"But you're going to have it here, right? In Oakdale? The Lakeview or the farm would be perfect, and you know it. And traveling to New York would be hard for your grandmothers, especially-"
"Wow, it's like when I said 'no plans yet', you heard the exact opposite," Luke rolled his eyes to Noah, who didn't even look up from where he sat on the floor in front of him, texting on his own phone.
"Listen, mister, I'm the mother of the groom. I'll make any and every plan I want, thank you very much. And I-"
"No grooms, Mom. We're not going to have titles like that, we already decided." Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Noah look up at that, head tilted to the side, confused, but he pretended to be distracted by Lily.
Who, funny enough, was still talking. "Oh, so you have made some plans, then."
He sighed out loud this time. "You know, I'm sure Dad wants to talk to me too. Maybe you should-"
She just laughed. "Okay, okay, I get it. Here, I'll put him on. But Luke?"
"Yeah Mom?"
"I love you so much. And tell your fiance I love him so much too, okay?"
He smiled at her and at Noah still engrossed in his texts. “I will. We love you too.”
There was a pause, then a warm, really happy voice. “Hey kiddo. So he finally asked, huh?”
“Hey Dad.” And then the words sunk in. “Wait, what?”
Holden laughed. “Noah asked for my blessing at Thanksgiving, the day before you two moved out there. I was wondering when he’d finally work up the nerve to do it.”
“Oh he did, did he?” Luke reached out with his foot to poke Noah in the shoulder. “At Thanksgiving?” He could see Noah’s blush, obviously fighting to react any more than that. “And did you give him a hard time about it?”
“Of course not,” Holden said, just as Noah nodded miserably in front of him. Luke laughed, reached out to ruffle Noah’s hair. “I’d been waiting for that conversation for years, to be honest.”
Luke smiled and slowed his hand to card through Noah’s hair, Noah leaning his head back to rest on Luke’s knee. “Me too.” They chatted for a few more minutes, until Luke began to wonder at the lack of noise in the background. “Where are the terrors tonight?”
Holden laughed again. “Ethan’s kind of literally caught up in some strands of Christmas lights right now. But he was very excited when your Mom told him about you and Noah, trust me. Don’t be surprised if he tries to move in with you two.”
“Oh God,” Luke groaned. “We barely have enough space for us.” That explained the youngest terror, but the other two... “Where are the girls? I kinda figured they’d be screaming on the other line or something.”
“Well,” Holden was smirking at him, he could tell. “I would think so too, except they seem pretty focused on whoever Faith is texting right now, so I don’t know what’s going on.”
“Texting,” Luke repeated. “Really.” Not a question. He tugged on Noah’s hair a little, getting his attention. Noah blinked up at him innocently, moving his phone out of Luke’s line of sight. “Mayer, you are such a pushover.”
There was another chuckle over the phone. “I better rescue him from their clutches, Lord only knows what they’re making him promise for the wedding.”
And Luke just wanted to sigh happily and forever. He was talking to his dad about his fiance. And his wedding. And it was real. “Yeah, I better go too.”
“Can you put Noah on the phone for a minute?” Holden asked, the smile still in his voice.
“Sure,” Luke tapped the top of Noah’s head and held out his phone, grinning as Noah’s blush came back full force. “Pushover.”
“Brat,” Noah mumbled right back. And then into the phone, “Hi Holden.” Luke slid down from the couch, wrapping himself around Noah’s back, resting his chin on his shoulder. “Yeah,” Noah leaned his head back enough to knock into Luke’s, even as he kept talking to Holden. “Yeah, um, me too.”
Luke leaned up to kiss his forehead as he ended the call. “Did he try to embarrass you?”
“Yep.”
“And welcome you officially to the family?”
“Yep,” Noah’s voice was quiet, a little bashful, a little surprised, but happy.
Luke kissed him again. “Good.”
**3**
They tumbled into the apartment together, Luke more than a little surprised they’d made it safely back from the party and up all those flights of stairs. “Home,” Noah announced, somehow managing to lean heavily into him and lead him to the living room at the same time.
“Home,” Luke confirmed, trying really hard not to laugh. Slightly-drunk-Noah was one of his favorite Noahs, though he’d never admit that out loud. “Couch?”
“Yes,” Noah said, very serious about it, dropping down to the cushions and dragging Luke down with him.
He fell with a laugh, landing mostly on top of Noah. “You’re very monosyllabic right now, Mayer.”
“Not my fault,” Noah stretched out as much as he could, one arm coming up and around Luke to steady him. “You’re the one who tried to seduce me by getting me drunk.”
“You’re the one who proposed, so technically you seduced me,” Luke made himself comfortable, propping his elbows on either side of Noah’s head, leaning in close.
“You said I love you first,” Noah argued.
“You kissed me first,” he said right back.
“Mmm,” Noah raised his head enough to kiss Luke now, soft and sweet. “Glad I did.”
Luke followed him back down, keeping their lips pressed together. “Me too.” His eyes drifted shut, but he could feel Noah’s smile, the way his arm tightened around him, held him in place now. He smiled right back and deepened the kiss, pressing down a little with his hips.
“See?” Noah’s voice was down to a murmur, and he spread both legs a little more so Luke could settle between them, his free hand coming up to cup Luke’s face. “Seducing.”
“Well, I didn’t get you drunk for nothing,” he smirked into the next kiss, prodding Noah’s mouth open wider with his tongue. Noah didn’t fight it, sighing against him, the softest of moans escaping, tightening his grip on Luke. His hand slid lower, lower down Luke’s back, lower still. Luke encouraged him on, rolling his hips down just the slightest into Noah’s, bringing out another moan.
Noah tasted like cinnamon and mint (he’d refused to kiss Luke in the cab ride home until he’d taken some Altoids, because drunk-Noah was even more overprotective of Luke and alcohol than sober-Noah). He was warm all over, his hands were all over, and he tilted his face just so, nipping at Luke’s bottom lip, sucking gently, biting exactly the way Luke loved, letting go to kiss him softly again.
Luke pushed in harder, faster, letting his fingers tangle yet again in Noah’s hair. It was messy and perfect, the two of them sinking into the lumpy couch cushions, the entire room dark except for the little string of lights decorating their window.
“This is perfect.” He didn’t mean to say it out loud, he really didn’t. It even came out as a whisper, but he still felt like kicking himself. He didn’t blush as often as Noah, but when he did his face was bright and splotchy and ridiculous. He could only hope Noah hadn’t heard it-
Noah’s hand on his face moved up to his hair, carding through it. “Almost,” he smiled up at Luke, pulled in him for one slow, lingering kiss. “All that trouble to get me drunk, you better do something about it, Snyder.”
Blush forgotten, Luke smiled, “Baby? Shut up.” And reached for the buttons of his shirt.
**2**
He awoke to the tiny, tiny sound of metal clinking together and fingers clasped with his. He kept the smile off his face and kept his eyes shut. Noah was tapping their rings together.
“Nice try,” a deep voice mumbled in his ear, scratchy and teasing. “I know you’re awake.”
“How do you always know?” he half-whined, opening his eyes to Noah only a few inches away, head on Luke’s shoulder. He kissed him between the eyes then settled back again, still kind of glaring.
Noah just smiled. “You always kick me right before you wake up. It’s like you have to start the day by beating me up. Every morning.”
“That’s not true,” he protested. “I do not kick you every morning.”
“Every morning,” Noah confirmed. “Sometimes I have bruises.” He blinked pitifully at Luke, eyes bright and puppy-sad.
“Oh yeah?” Luke reached out with his free hand to trace the mark Noah’s collar bone. “What about this one?”
“Hmm,” Noah rolled slowly until he was half-covering Luke and noisily kissed his cheek. “Yep, I think you gave me that one too. My other fiance doesn’t bite.”
“He doesn’t sound like very much fun, then,” Luke leaned down to bite Noah’s shoulder playfully. “I like hearing you say that word,” he confessed, a bit more seriously.
Noah’s smile became softer. “I like saying it.”
Luke got comfortable, curling a little more around Noah, clinking their rings together again. “As much as I hate to admit it, my mom’s right. We’re going to have to start making wedding plans soon. Otherwise, Snyder and Walsh women will do it themselves without telling us.”
Noah laughed. “They’ll have a full thirty-piece orchestra.”
“Releasing doves into the air.”
“A thousand yellow daisies.”
“And much, much more,” Luke rolled his eyes with a grin, pulling on Noah’s arm until he wrapped it around him.
“Can I ask you something?” Noah let himself be pulled, his hand settling at Luke’s back, rubbing aimlessly. “When you were on the phone with Lily, when you told her about the engagement. You told her we decided not to use ‘groom’ or titles or anything.”
“Yeah,” Luke had been waiting for this to come up.
“But we hadn’t talked about that,” Noah tilted his head to look Luke in the eye. “Why don’t you want to use titles?”
“For, um,” Luke actually thought about lying, but the truth came out first. “For you.”
His brow furrowed. “Me?”
“Yeah,” he wrapped his arms tighter around Noah. “You know when you go to a wedding, and there’s always the bride’s side and the groom’s side? I don’t want that. I don’t want you thinking about people who aren’t going to be there for you.”
Noah was quiet for a moment. A long moment. Luke held on. “I love you,” he finally said, quiet and calm.
“I love you too,” he said automatically.
“But Luke, baby, if you think that I’m going to be thinking of him, of either of them, on the day I’m marrying you? You’re crazy.” He turned his face enough to kiss the center of Luke’s chest. “I’m not going to have enough room in my head for anything else but you. Got it?”
It was Luke’s turn to fall silent, and he did. For nearly three whole seconds, which was a lot for him. Then he yanked until Noah was fully on top of him and kissed him hard. “Got it,” he said a few minutes later, pulling back just enough to catch his breath.
Noah’s eyes stayed closed, lips still slightly parted. “Um, good. Good then,” he finally managed, nestling back into Luke’s arms. “Also, no orchestra please.”
“Or doves.”
“Or daisies.”
“Unless we make Casey be the flower girl.”
“See? You’re my favorite fiance.”
**1**
One year later...
“Hey.”
Luke turned away from the window. “Hey yourself.”
Noah half-stumbled out of the bedroom, wiping sleep from his eyes. “What are you still doing up?”
Luke shrugged, not at all repentant and knowing he should be. “It’s snowing.”
Noah, bless him, understood. He smiled, picked up Emma’s quilt (one of their wedding gifts) from the lumpy couch, and joined him at the window. “You’re getting your white Christmas, then.” He wrapped one end of the quilt around his shoulders and offered the other end to Luke.
“Yep,” he wrapped the other end around himself, purposefully pulling Noah closer to him. Settling with his face leaning into Noah’s chest, he watched the snow fall outside. Noah, he could tell, was actually looking at something in the room. “You’re staring at the tree again.”
“It’s weird,” Noah complained. Again. “It doesn’t even look... tree-shaped. It looks like a pear.”
“That is tree-shaped,” he argued.
“No, tree-shaped is triangular.”
“Hey, we’re fighting like an old married couple,” he deadpanned, pinching Noah’s ribs.
Noah pinched him right back on the arm. “You’re half right.”
Luke couldn’t stop the grin at that. “Married for three months and we’re already sniping at each other. Not a good sign, darling.”
“I think we’ll be okay, dearest,” Noah deadpanned right back.
And they would be, Luke knew they would be. He went back to watching the snow fall out the window, wrapped up in Emma’s quilt, wrapped up in Noah, and smiled.
It was real, it was perfect.
Author: carolinablu85
Pairing: Luke/Noah
Rating: PG-13ish?
Word Count: 6,180
Warnings: very bright Christmas lights
Summary: How to go from a ‘you and me’ to an ‘us’ in 12 not-so-easy Christmas steps, but without the partridge.
Disclaimer: I own absolutely nothing. Also, this is based oh so so so sooooooo loosely, the loosest of loosely, on the “12 Days of Christmas” song. Barely. Loosely.
A/N: Happy holiday(s) Ronnie! Love you lots, and you deserve way more than this, but here goes! I got your Christmas lights in here, and some fluff and sweetness with only the hintiness hints of angst. And some bonus drawings because, like I said, you deserve way more :)
**12**
Luke kicked the door shut behind him with a satisfying slam. “And... done,” he called out. “Time?”
There was a quiet laugh from the living room. “Only twenty minutes later than you swore it would take to get back from the parking garage.”
“Well hey,” he grinned, walked into the living room, and dropped the box he’d been lugging onto the couch. “If you factor in how late I normally am, this is practically on time.”
Noah glanced up from where he sat surrounded by more boxes. “If there’s one thing I love about you, it’s that you’re so logical,” he said dryly.
Luke made a face. “Give me some time, I bet I can remind you of a few other things you love about me.” He slowly moved to sit down next to him, sliding a hand along Noah’s thigh.
“But what would you do with the rest of the minute?” Noah blinked innocently, a smile just barely starting to play with his lips.
Luke’s hand stopped sliding, smacking Noah instead. “Funny. So funny.” He looked around the apartment, at all the boxes they still had to unpack and the very little space they had to do it. “Where are we going to put all this stuff? It’s a lot of stuff. We have too much stuff.”
“Welcome to New York,” Noah grinned now, leaning over to kiss Luke’s forehead. “We’ll make it work.”
“We had so much more space in LA,” Luke grabbed a box, pulling piles of books out.
“We had more money then too,” Noah kissed him again, more of an exaggerated smack this time. “This’ll be great.”
It was the closest Noah had come to teasing him. Luke had made a personal vow last year, when they first started talking about leaving LA for New York, to only spend money he himself had earned. It made sense. He’d been given that money by family to take care of him, help him achieve his dreams.
And along the way the past few years, he’d learned he could do those things for himself. And with Noah, he could have a life he’d dreamed of. So the Walsh/Grimaldi money was staying where it was until a time came when maybe he could pass it along to his own children.
He hadn’t told Noah that part. Yet.
But it also meant that now, since Noah’s two films had done well in LA and he saved his earnings like he was in Silas Marner, Noah technically had more money than Luke. (Not that you’d know it by the way he continued to dress.) Noah never teased Luke about it, but it didn’t really matter since Casey did. And Faith. And Aaron and Holden and Jade and (why God why) Ameera.
Luke was determined not let the teasing become real. He wasn’t going to be a trophy wife. So he merged his foundation with Grimaldi Shipping to do outreach with other cities and countries, basing it in New York. He and Noah would rely on each other.
It was why they had selected an apartment where they could split the expenses and rent. Which was why they were in a fourth floor walkup, with rusty pipes, with neighbors whose footsteps sounded like bass drums, and with a closet the size of a tablespoon. (Or teaspoon. He couldn’t remember which was smaller, but it was that one.) And with a-
“Here,” Noah leaned into him again, draping a strand of Christmas lights around his shoulders with another kiss, smiling so happily. “We can put the tree in this corner. And some lights in the window.”
Luke loved it all.
**11**
“Hand me the shiny thing by your left hand,” Noah’s voice was muffled, his own hand reaching out.
“You know,” Luke tried to put a glare in his tone since Noah couldn’t see him. “I grew up on a farm. I helped my dad fix tractors all the time. I know what a wrench is. You can just say wrench.”
“Yeah, but you get so cute when you’re indignant,” Noah obviously put a grin in his tone right back.
Luke settled down more comfortably next to Noah’s outstretched legs, as the upper half of him was hidden under the sink. “Congratulations,” Luke handed him the wrench. “You’re probably the first person in history to use the word ‘indignant’ while fixing a gross, rusty pipe. If that’s even what you’re doing.”
There were a few clangs and squeaky metal noises. “You’re doubting me? I’m hurt, Snyder. Hurt.” He bumped his knee into Luke. “I don’t even know why I do these things for you.”
Luke moved quickly to sit on top of Noah’s legs. “What was that?”
Noah stilled under him. “What are you doing?” No more metal clangs under the sink.
“Helping,” Luke said oh-so-innocently, letting his hands wander just a little around a belt buckle, across a small strip of skin visibly where Noah’s shirt had ridden up.
“Um,” was Noah’s very intelligent reply.
“Isn’t this a good incentive to get this stuff fixed?” he asked casually, as though he wasn’t aware of his own hand. “You know, why you do these things for me?” His hand trailed lower, just past the waistband of his-
He wasn’t sure how Noah moved so fast without hitting his head and giving himself a concussion, but Luke barely had time to blink before there were long arms around him holding him in place, lips on his. “Not good incentive,” Noah groaned into his mouth. “Not good at all.”
“You’re dirty and wet,” Luke complained, kissing him harder.
“Mm-hm,” Noah tugged at his shirt.
“Pipe’s not fixed yet,” he pointed out, pulling at Noah’s belt again.
“That’s a shame.”
“You still have to-” they were walk-stumbling each other towards the bedroom- “still have to replace the bulbs for the Christmas lights.”
“Yep,” Noah’s mouth went lower, down his neck, down his chest.
“We have to get the-”
“Luke,” Noah smiled against his skin, he could feel it. “Shut up, please.” And then he proceeded to make him.
**10**
“It’s only four blocks, we can make it,” Luke argued, peering out the cafe’s window.
Noah peered out right next to him. “No way.”
“It’s just rain,” he said, pouting a little.
“No, this is what we call a downpour,” Noah smiled at the pout- he always did- but remained firm. “This is when those Noah’s Ark jokes? Aren’t so crazy. Let’s wait it out another hour.”
“Come on, whatever happened to the ‘You jump I jump, Jack?’ stuff?” Luke wove their fingers together and pulled Noah towards the door. “I’m tired, I want to go home. I want to lay on our lumpy couch.” He smiled winningly. “I’m jumping, Jack.”
“Didn’t he die?” Noah was pouting now, which meant Luke was about to win. “In freezing cold water?”
“Fine you can stay here while I go,” Luke reached for the doorknob with his other hand. “I just hope nothing happens to me on the way. I hope I don’t fall and break my ankle, or get mugged. By myself.”
Noah pouted some more, sighed, and freed his hand long enough to zip up Luke’s coat for him. Grabbing Luke’s hand again, he grimaced, bracing himself. “Fine. We’ll make a run for it.” He paused for a moment. “Brat.”
“Hey, it’s one more of those things you love about me,” he grinned, squeezing his hand. “Four blocks. Ready?”
“No.”
“Set?”
“No.”
“Go!” Luke yanked the door open and started running, knowing without knowing that Noah was keeping up with him. Because that’s what Noah always did.
They dashed down the street, leaping over puddles at the crosswalks, swearing and- somehow- laughing. And as Luke ran, Noah’s hand tight around his, honking horns and cabs flying past, Christmas lights from the shops reflecting in the rain, he realized that if Noah ever asked him to...
He’d totally jump.
**9**
Luke had to remind himself that this was a charity event. He was not allowed to hit an old lady at a charity event. There was probably a rule against that somewhere.
So instead he kept the polite smile on his face as the woman whose name he’d already forgotten continued to prattle on about her lovely grandson who was getting married to a lovely girlfriend and they were already planning three lovely babies (“good genetics those kids have, isn’t it lovely how they can carry on the family name and everything?”).
And he kept smiling as her prattling went so sympathetic and pitying (“bless your parents, they must have gone through a quite a time when you became gay, do they still want you to have kids?”) and just as he was about to snap-
An arm, warm and perfect and anchoring, slid easily into place around him. “I’m sorry ma’am, you’ll have to excuse us,” Noah smiled that charmingly shy Boy Scout smile. “My boyfriend owes me a dance. Enjoy the rest of your evening.” And before he was even done speaking, Noah had managed to turn Luke completely out of Evil Old Lady’s orbit.
Luke let out a heavy breath, sagging a little into Noah as they walked. “You’re the best boyfriend ever. I love you. I hope her lovely grandchildren have twelve toes and green hair.”
He felt Noah’s laugh, his arm tightening around his waist. “That’s not very charitable of you.”
“What, they could still walk with twelve toes,” Luke argued, grumbling under his breath. “And they can dye their hair. Let’s just see if Evil Old Lady would love them for how they’re born and not-”
Noah turned him a little more, so they were facing each other, and kissed him lightly. Just enough to silence him. “You haven’t eaten yet tonight, have you? You always get extra cranky when you haven’t-”
“Noah, shut up and kiss me again,” Luke held the back of Noah’s neck, pulled him in for another. When he eased back, he finally looked around. “Wait, why are we on the dance floor?”
Noah raised an eyebrow. “I wasn’t lying to Evil Old Lady. You owe me a dance.” He shrugged a little as he said it, that way he got when he was suddenly second-guessing himself. “If you want to?”
Luke answered by throwing both arms around Noah’s shoulders, hugging him tighter and tighter until Noah let out a soft, happy sigh, his arms wrapping back around Luke’s waist. They swayed together, maybe not technically dancing, but Luke technically didn’t care. The sights and sounds of everyone around them faded away. With the Christmas lights dancing around them, it felt like they were the only people in the room.
**8**
Everything hurt.
Luke groaned as much as he could, ending it with a pitiful cough. He ached all over. His head weighed at least three hundred pounds. He was tired and cold and hot and tired some more.
So maybe he was sick.
He turned a little more into the couch, burying his face in the armrest, trying to muffle another cough. “Blech,” was the noise that came out. His nose was stuffed up, and even the tiny tiny shine of Christmas lights made his head hurt. He kept his eyes shut tight so they wouldn’t burn and tear up again.
With his eyes closed, he could only hear the movement around him and was only a little startled when a weight dropped onto the couch with him. “Well?” Noah asked softly, his hand cool and comforting against his forehead.
“Blech,” he said again.
Noah laughed, managing to sound sympathetic. Before Luke could scold him for it anyway, there was more movement and sound, and then that weight was lying next to him, wedging between him and the back of the couch, drawing him close.
Luke sighed, relaxing into Noah’s arms and leaning back against him, trying to match the even rise and fall of his breaths. And failing. He started coughing again, grimacing even as he tried to smile when Noah tightened his hold around him, one hand coming up to rub circles along his chest, soothing.
When he finally caught his breath, he grumbled some more. “If you say,” he pulled Noah’s other hand into his, squeezing. “That this is because I ran in the rain,” he squeezed harder. “I’ll cough on you.”
Noah laughed again, rumbling against Luke’s back. “You already are coughing on me.”
“I’ll cough harder,” he warned, miserable. He kept his eyes closed, sinking more into Noah, who just held on, one leg draping over both of Luke’s, his forehead resting in Luke’s hair.
“Call in sick tomorrow,” Noah said in reply, nudging his nose playfully against Luke’s ear. “I will too. We can spend the day here, watch some movies, make sure you actually take your medicine...”
“AKA, babysit me,” he kept grumbling, mostly because he wanted to even though he was fighting back a smile. They hadn’t spent a day playing hooky in... wow, years, probably. Since they were both in college. And that idea, having Noah all to himself, on the couch, for a whole day- it sounded like maybe the best idea ever.
“Wow, you’re welcome,” Noah teased, as though he knew just what Luke was thinking. He kissed the back of Luke’s neck softly, hugging tighter again.
Luke couldn’t stop himself from humming a little, content with the right now that was happening. “Will you cook, then?” he asked, making sure his voice sounded as scratchy and pitiful as possible.
“We don’t have any food in the apartment, baby,” Noah reminded him. “I’ll order your favorite takeout.”
Not good enough. “But you make it so much better,” he not-whined, letting his voice strain and break a little with every other word. “You have Grandma Emma’s recipes, no one else in this city does.” He coughed a few times, sniffling for added effect.
Noah was quiet for a moment, then sighed. “Don’t think I don’t know you’re milking this for all it’s worth,” he murmured into Luke’s ear, the teasing still there despite his tone. “Want me to go grocery shopping now or in the morning?”
“Morning,” he said immediately, pulling Noah’s arm closer around him. “Don’t move right now. ‘Kay?”
“Okay,” Noah complied easily, folding himself around Luke, both of them curling together on the couch.
Luke kept his eyes closed, soaking in the quiet, the warmth of Noah against him, and ignoring the grossness in his head. It worked just until-
“Next time you’ll listen to me and not run in the rain, right?”
“I hate you.”
**7**
Luke grabbed a towel as he left the basketball court, managing to wipe at his face with one hand and wave to his 'team' with the other. He smirked and rolled his eyes at the few catcalls that followed him; they all knew he was headed down to the pool.
There were a couple nice perks to the apartment, and one was a gym right down the block. They had vowed very early on not to be one of 'those' couples that worked out together (it was a step too close to matching outfits, Luke pointed out), so they usually split up as soon as they got in, Luke heading for the basketball court and Noah to swim laps. Luke always liked to get done first and meet Noah there for, well, purely selfish reasons.
He pushed the last door open, the echoey sounds and sharp chlorine smell hitting him first. He winced a little, it was something he'd never get used to. He liked swimming in ponds, thank you very much. But hey, the pool kept Noah looking... the way he did, so Luke wasn't really about to complain. He scanned the pool right away, but couldn't spot Noah.
But then there was that laugh. The one Luke couldn't help but smile at. He smiled now, turning to the right. There was Noah, having just climbed out of the pool, a towel slung over one shoulder. He was talking to Quentin, the guy Noah had introduced him to two weeks ago. He was a photographer, maybe, in Soho. Something with cameras. And he usually worked out at the same times Noah did.
Luke watched them from afar, laughing and joking around, Quentin mock-angrily smacking Noah's shoulder. Luke watched, and waited for it to happen. Waited for the burning combination of jealousy and craziness to take him over. Come on, the guy was laughing with Noah, liked cameras, had even just touched his bare shoulder. Luke would be seething with self-doubt and rage right now.
It never came.
Luke was a little surprised with himself, he had to admit. But it never came. He trusted Noah. He trusted them. He spent a moment, searching, and there wasn’t a doubt in him anywhere that Noah didn’t love him, wasn’t his, would leave him.
Noah loved him, Noah was his, Noah wasn’t going anywhere. It didn’t drive him crazy and it didn’t scare him anymore. Luke let himself smile a little wider.
Of course, the door to a gym’s public swimming pool probably wasn’t the place to have this revelation. Luke moved forward again, coming up behind Noah and wrapping his arms around his waist. “Hey, Speedo. Ready?”
Noah turned his head enough to see Luke, and the way his face lit up brighter than any Christmas lights solidified it for Luke. Noah loved him, Noah was his. “You have got to stop calling me that,” Noah grumbled, kissing him lightly.
“Why?” Luke fluttered his eyelashes innocently. “Maybe if I say it enough, it’ll come true.” Quentin laughed, waved his goodbyes, and (very wisely) left them alone.
Noah turned fully in Luke’s arms, hooking his own around Luke’s back. “This fantasy of yours is slightly disturbing, I hope you know.” He knocked his forehead playfully into Luke’s. “You’re never getting me into a Speedo.”
“Oh baby,” Luke laughed, kissed him right back. “I’ve got all the time in the world to change your mind.”
**6**
“I can’t believe it’s not colder out,” Luke complained, wrapping his arm tighter around Noah’s as they walked, just ’cause. “Kids aren’t even wearing puffy coats.”
“Puffy coats?” Noah half asked, half laughed.
Luke waved his other hand. “You know, the big fat coats with feathers in them.”
“Down coats,” Noah supplied, his free arm going light and steady around Luke’s shoulders.
“Puffy coats,” Luke corrected anyway, waving again, this time to get Noah to pipe down. “Either way, it’s just weird. It’s Christmas, kids should be... bundled up. Not playing tag in the sunshine.”
“And yet,” Noah tugged on Luke’s shoulders, bringing him right into Noah’s side as they turned a corner and left the park. “If it was freezing and snowy, you’d complain about that too.”
“Even the animals are still out,” he kept on, barely a glare in his boyfriend’s direction. “Those kids were trying to play Duck Duck Goose with actual geese. It’s not right.”
“Yeah, how dare those children be happy and laughing. It’s not right,” Noah pinched his ear, pulling his hand back before Luke could slap it away.
“Shut up.” They neared the corner of the block, stopping just under the giant tree that stretched out from the park. “Our kids are going to have snow for Christmas, got that?”
And then promptly froze. Because why the hell had he just said that?
Noah went still right along with him, but he was looking at Luke, almost searching his face. Reading it. And then, making Luke even more numb, he- very slowly- closed his eyes. “Hey Luke?”
“Y-yeah?”
Noah pulled his arm free of Luke’s shoulders, hand going into his pocket. “I have a, um, a question for you.”
**5**
“A question,” Luke repeated, still numb. The street lamp above them slowly flickered to life, giving them a completely unnecessary spotlight for whatever this was.
“Yeah.” And now Noah was doing that self-doubty thing again, the little shrugging, the lip-biting, even (uh-oh) the blushing. “Um, look-”
“Oh my God,” Luke couldn’t help it, couldn’t stop himself, even if it meant ruining Noah’s momentum. “You’re- oh my God.”
But he couldn’t help it, really, because Noah had pulled his hand back out of his pocket. And was now holding a box. A tiny, black, velvet-y looking box. “I wasn’t going to do it here, I had a plan,” Noah spoke a little faster than normal, softly. “But I don’t think I can wait.”
“Noah,” Luke’s voice shook, he could hear it. He didn’t care, but he could hear it.
Noah was looking more at the box than at him. “I don’t want to wait to ask. I want- I want us to be engaged, right now, Luke. I don’t want to have to wait another minute to say you’re my- that we’re... I want to marry you, Luke. You’re a brat and you’re crazy and stubborn and really need to stop singing in the shower and I want you to marry me.” He finally forced his eyes up to Luke’s. “If you-”
Luke didn’t let him finish. He grabbed the front of Noah’s coat and pulled hard, kissing him hard, then harder. “You-” another kiss. “You’re such a-” maybe another kiss.
“Yeah, well, it’s your fault,” Noah murmured against his lips, a giant, relieved, more-than-giddy smile finally coming through. “You always make my plans difficult.”
“Better,” Luke corrected, brushing his hand through Noah’s hair, playing with strands, kissing him again. “I make your plans better.” He finally paused to catch his breath, looking down at the box again. “I can’t believe you...”
With slightly shaking hands (Luke pretended not to notice), Noah finally opened it, lifting for Luke to see the two simple gold rings inside. “For you.”
“One for you, one for me?” he asked breathlessly. It was suddenly and really catching up to him. Rings. Marriage. Noah.
It was real. It was perfect.
“One for you, one for me,” Noah confirmed. He pulled both out, then reached for Luke’s hand, sliding one onto his finger. Luke could feel the weight of it there, and it was a good weight. He looked back up at Noah, pretty sure there was a ridiculous grin on his face, and slid the other ring onto Noah’s finger. Noah dropped his forehead to rest against Luke’s, grinning just as wide. “I’m gonna marry you, Luke Snyder.”
Luke grinned, tilted his chin up to get another kiss, slower, softer. Real, perfect. “Same here.”
**4**
"Have you set a date yet?" the words came out as a screech more than a question.
Luke sighed. Silently. "No, Mom, not yet. No plans yet. We're not in a rush for the, uh, ceremony part. And Noah's too swamped with his movie right now anyway."
"But you're going to have it here, right? In Oakdale? The Lakeview or the farm would be perfect, and you know it. And traveling to New York would be hard for your grandmothers, especially-"
"Wow, it's like when I said 'no plans yet', you heard the exact opposite," Luke rolled his eyes to Noah, who didn't even look up from where he sat on the floor in front of him, texting on his own phone.
"Listen, mister, I'm the mother of the groom. I'll make any and every plan I want, thank you very much. And I-"
"No grooms, Mom. We're not going to have titles like that, we already decided." Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Noah look up at that, head tilted to the side, confused, but he pretended to be distracted by Lily.
Who, funny enough, was still talking. "Oh, so you have made some plans, then."
He sighed out loud this time. "You know, I'm sure Dad wants to talk to me too. Maybe you should-"
She just laughed. "Okay, okay, I get it. Here, I'll put him on. But Luke?"
"Yeah Mom?"
"I love you so much. And tell your fiance I love him so much too, okay?"
He smiled at her and at Noah still engrossed in his texts. “I will. We love you too.”
There was a pause, then a warm, really happy voice. “Hey kiddo. So he finally asked, huh?”
“Hey Dad.” And then the words sunk in. “Wait, what?”
Holden laughed. “Noah asked for my blessing at Thanksgiving, the day before you two moved out there. I was wondering when he’d finally work up the nerve to do it.”
“Oh he did, did he?” Luke reached out with his foot to poke Noah in the shoulder. “At Thanksgiving?” He could see Noah’s blush, obviously fighting to react any more than that. “And did you give him a hard time about it?”
“Of course not,” Holden said, just as Noah nodded miserably in front of him. Luke laughed, reached out to ruffle Noah’s hair. “I’d been waiting for that conversation for years, to be honest.”
Luke smiled and slowed his hand to card through Noah’s hair, Noah leaning his head back to rest on Luke’s knee. “Me too.” They chatted for a few more minutes, until Luke began to wonder at the lack of noise in the background. “Where are the terrors tonight?”
Holden laughed again. “Ethan’s kind of literally caught up in some strands of Christmas lights right now. But he was very excited when your Mom told him about you and Noah, trust me. Don’t be surprised if he tries to move in with you two.”
“Oh God,” Luke groaned. “We barely have enough space for us.” That explained the youngest terror, but the other two... “Where are the girls? I kinda figured they’d be screaming on the other line or something.”
“Well,” Holden was smirking at him, he could tell. “I would think so too, except they seem pretty focused on whoever Faith is texting right now, so I don’t know what’s going on.”
“Texting,” Luke repeated. “Really.” Not a question. He tugged on Noah’s hair a little, getting his attention. Noah blinked up at him innocently, moving his phone out of Luke’s line of sight. “Mayer, you are such a pushover.”
There was another chuckle over the phone. “I better rescue him from their clutches, Lord only knows what they’re making him promise for the wedding.”
And Luke just wanted to sigh happily and forever. He was talking to his dad about his fiance. And his wedding. And it was real. “Yeah, I better go too.”
“Can you put Noah on the phone for a minute?” Holden asked, the smile still in his voice.
“Sure,” Luke tapped the top of Noah’s head and held out his phone, grinning as Noah’s blush came back full force. “Pushover.”
“Brat,” Noah mumbled right back. And then into the phone, “Hi Holden.” Luke slid down from the couch, wrapping himself around Noah’s back, resting his chin on his shoulder. “Yeah,” Noah leaned his head back enough to knock into Luke’s, even as he kept talking to Holden. “Yeah, um, me too.”
Luke leaned up to kiss his forehead as he ended the call. “Did he try to embarrass you?”
“Yep.”
“And welcome you officially to the family?”
“Yep,” Noah’s voice was quiet, a little bashful, a little surprised, but happy.
Luke kissed him again. “Good.”
**3**
They tumbled into the apartment together, Luke more than a little surprised they’d made it safely back from the party and up all those flights of stairs. “Home,” Noah announced, somehow managing to lean heavily into him and lead him to the living room at the same time.
“Home,” Luke confirmed, trying really hard not to laugh. Slightly-drunk-Noah was one of his favorite Noahs, though he’d never admit that out loud. “Couch?”
“Yes,” Noah said, very serious about it, dropping down to the cushions and dragging Luke down with him.
He fell with a laugh, landing mostly on top of Noah. “You’re very monosyllabic right now, Mayer.”
“Not my fault,” Noah stretched out as much as he could, one arm coming up and around Luke to steady him. “You’re the one who tried to seduce me by getting me drunk.”
“You’re the one who proposed, so technically you seduced me,” Luke made himself comfortable, propping his elbows on either side of Noah’s head, leaning in close.
“You said I love you first,” Noah argued.
“You kissed me first,” he said right back.
“Mmm,” Noah raised his head enough to kiss Luke now, soft and sweet. “Glad I did.”
Luke followed him back down, keeping their lips pressed together. “Me too.” His eyes drifted shut, but he could feel Noah’s smile, the way his arm tightened around him, held him in place now. He smiled right back and deepened the kiss, pressing down a little with his hips.
“See?” Noah’s voice was down to a murmur, and he spread both legs a little more so Luke could settle between them, his free hand coming up to cup Luke’s face. “Seducing.”
“Well, I didn’t get you drunk for nothing,” he smirked into the next kiss, prodding Noah’s mouth open wider with his tongue. Noah didn’t fight it, sighing against him, the softest of moans escaping, tightening his grip on Luke. His hand slid lower, lower down Luke’s back, lower still. Luke encouraged him on, rolling his hips down just the slightest into Noah’s, bringing out another moan.
Noah tasted like cinnamon and mint (he’d refused to kiss Luke in the cab ride home until he’d taken some Altoids, because drunk-Noah was even more overprotective of Luke and alcohol than sober-Noah). He was warm all over, his hands were all over, and he tilted his face just so, nipping at Luke’s bottom lip, sucking gently, biting exactly the way Luke loved, letting go to kiss him softly again.
Luke pushed in harder, faster, letting his fingers tangle yet again in Noah’s hair. It was messy and perfect, the two of them sinking into the lumpy couch cushions, the entire room dark except for the little string of lights decorating their window.
“This is perfect.” He didn’t mean to say it out loud, he really didn’t. It even came out as a whisper, but he still felt like kicking himself. He didn’t blush as often as Noah, but when he did his face was bright and splotchy and ridiculous. He could only hope Noah hadn’t heard it-
Noah’s hand on his face moved up to his hair, carding through it. “Almost,” he smiled up at Luke, pulled in him for one slow, lingering kiss. “All that trouble to get me drunk, you better do something about it, Snyder.”
Blush forgotten, Luke smiled, “Baby? Shut up.” And reached for the buttons of his shirt.
**2**
He awoke to the tiny, tiny sound of metal clinking together and fingers clasped with his. He kept the smile off his face and kept his eyes shut. Noah was tapping their rings together.
“Nice try,” a deep voice mumbled in his ear, scratchy and teasing. “I know you’re awake.”
“How do you always know?” he half-whined, opening his eyes to Noah only a few inches away, head on Luke’s shoulder. He kissed him between the eyes then settled back again, still kind of glaring.
Noah just smiled. “You always kick me right before you wake up. It’s like you have to start the day by beating me up. Every morning.”
“That’s not true,” he protested. “I do not kick you every morning.”
“Every morning,” Noah confirmed. “Sometimes I have bruises.” He blinked pitifully at Luke, eyes bright and puppy-sad.
“Oh yeah?” Luke reached out with his free hand to trace the mark Noah’s collar bone. “What about this one?”
“Hmm,” Noah rolled slowly until he was half-covering Luke and noisily kissed his cheek. “Yep, I think you gave me that one too. My other fiance doesn’t bite.”
“He doesn’t sound like very much fun, then,” Luke leaned down to bite Noah’s shoulder playfully. “I like hearing you say that word,” he confessed, a bit more seriously.
Noah’s smile became softer. “I like saying it.”
Luke got comfortable, curling a little more around Noah, clinking their rings together again. “As much as I hate to admit it, my mom’s right. We’re going to have to start making wedding plans soon. Otherwise, Snyder and Walsh women will do it themselves without telling us.”
Noah laughed. “They’ll have a full thirty-piece orchestra.”
“Releasing doves into the air.”
“A thousand yellow daisies.”
“And much, much more,” Luke rolled his eyes with a grin, pulling on Noah’s arm until he wrapped it around him.
“Can I ask you something?” Noah let himself be pulled, his hand settling at Luke’s back, rubbing aimlessly. “When you were on the phone with Lily, when you told her about the engagement. You told her we decided not to use ‘groom’ or titles or anything.”
“Yeah,” Luke had been waiting for this to come up.
“But we hadn’t talked about that,” Noah tilted his head to look Luke in the eye. “Why don’t you want to use titles?”
“For, um,” Luke actually thought about lying, but the truth came out first. “For you.”
His brow furrowed. “Me?”
“Yeah,” he wrapped his arms tighter around Noah. “You know when you go to a wedding, and there’s always the bride’s side and the groom’s side? I don’t want that. I don’t want you thinking about people who aren’t going to be there for you.”
Noah was quiet for a moment. A long moment. Luke held on. “I love you,” he finally said, quiet and calm.
“I love you too,” he said automatically.
“But Luke, baby, if you think that I’m going to be thinking of him, of either of them, on the day I’m marrying you? You’re crazy.” He turned his face enough to kiss the center of Luke’s chest. “I’m not going to have enough room in my head for anything else but you. Got it?”
It was Luke’s turn to fall silent, and he did. For nearly three whole seconds, which was a lot for him. Then he yanked until Noah was fully on top of him and kissed him hard. “Got it,” he said a few minutes later, pulling back just enough to catch his breath.
Noah’s eyes stayed closed, lips still slightly parted. “Um, good. Good then,” he finally managed, nestling back into Luke’s arms. “Also, no orchestra please.”
“Or doves.”
“Or daisies.”
“Unless we make Casey be the flower girl.”
“See? You’re my favorite fiance.”
**1**
One year later...
“Hey.”
Luke turned away from the window. “Hey yourself.”
Noah half-stumbled out of the bedroom, wiping sleep from his eyes. “What are you still doing up?”
Luke shrugged, not at all repentant and knowing he should be. “It’s snowing.”
Noah, bless him, understood. He smiled, picked up Emma’s quilt (one of their wedding gifts) from the lumpy couch, and joined him at the window. “You’re getting your white Christmas, then.” He wrapped one end of the quilt around his shoulders and offered the other end to Luke.
“Yep,” he wrapped the other end around himself, purposefully pulling Noah closer to him. Settling with his face leaning into Noah’s chest, he watched the snow fall outside. Noah, he could tell, was actually looking at something in the room. “You’re staring at the tree again.”
“It’s weird,” Noah complained. Again. “It doesn’t even look... tree-shaped. It looks like a pear.”
“That is tree-shaped,” he argued.
“No, tree-shaped is triangular.”
“Hey, we’re fighting like an old married couple,” he deadpanned, pinching Noah’s ribs.
Noah pinched him right back on the arm. “You’re half right.”
Luke couldn’t stop the grin at that. “Married for three months and we’re already sniping at each other. Not a good sign, darling.”
“I think we’ll be okay, dearest,” Noah deadpanned right back.
And they would be, Luke knew they would be. He went back to watching the snow fall out the window, wrapped up in Emma’s quilt, wrapped up in Noah, and smiled.
It was real, it was perfect.