Disclaimer: I own nothing of As the World Turns and make no profit from this.

Notes: I wrote this back in August, so the idea for the story was definitely influenced by Luke and Noah's anniversary. :-) This is more drabbly-like than my other one-shots, but I hope you enjoy it anyway! :-D

Tradition

"How do you feel?"

Dad's soft question came from the corner of my bedroom, near the doorway, where he had been standing with me in silence for the past ten minutes.

I slipped my left hand into my pants' pocket and glanced at him. "I'm okay," I replied with a smile.

Honestly? I felt like I was going to throw up. But the good kind of throwing up, like when you're drunk and you know the only way you're going to feel better is to get rid of the poison in your system.

The only problem with that is that you have to wait for your body to okay it, for your body to tell you it's time for the natural act to occur, and the expectancy is worse than the actual deed itself.

Okay, so that's a bad analogy. I wasn't trying to rid myself of anything – quite the opposite today – but the anticipation of the event was killing me regardless. I was raring and ready to go, and the waiting was making me extremely nervous.

Faith walked into the room then, looking at me expectantly. The sun shone through my open windows against her dress, making it sparkle a deep plum rose. She regarded me calmly, then glanced at Dad. I knew why she was here, and Dad noticed my sudden hesitation.

"You're sure you want to do this?" he asked, his brow wrinkled. I knew he thought it had been a bad idea from the beginning, because it had taken a lot of pre-planned choreographing on all accounts, but this was the catalyst I had always known I'd want to get this day started.

"Yes, I'm sure," I told him, drawing a large breath into my lungs. "I won't screw it up, I promise." I smiled at him for reassurance.

Dad held his hands up in mock surrender, a smile coming over his face. He knew he couldn't talk me out of this. "Okay, Luke." He turned to my sister. "Lead the way, Faith!"

She grinned at the both of us and turned for the door. We followed her out of my bedroom, down the hall to the right, to a closed door on the left of the hall. Faith stood at the door and positioned me in front of her, my nose almost brushing the wood. How many times had I snuck into this very same room in the dark of night, those few short years ago?

"Luke, you're too tall," Faith complained, her hands tugging downward on my shoulders. "Bend down a bit!"

"Still the little shrimp you've always been, huh?" I teased her. She scoffed and smacked at my shoulder playfully as I bent slightly at the knees, allowing her hands to come up and slide over my eyes. We waited for Dad to make his move, Faith with a small giggle, me with my eyesight engulfed in darkness.

"Knock, knock!" Dad called. I heard the click of the doorknob and two muffled voices in front of me, and then suddenly Faith was urging me forward from behind.

I felt the sunlight hit me through the windows in his room, the heat that flowed from the glorious day outside, captured by the material of my dark suit. Faith and I took baby steps (somewhat awkwardly, I might add) until we were in what I presumed was the middle of the room. Faith pulled back carefully in her grip to let me know when to hold still. I couldn't hear or see him, of course, but I knew he was there, standing just as I was, most likely not even a foot away. His presence overtook my senses whenever we shared the same living space.

"No peeking!" Faith cried then, as a reminder. "You can't peek, it's bad luck!"

I laughed through my nose at her. "I promise, I won't peek."

"Noah, you promise too!" Her voice sailed over my shoulder at him.

"I promise," he returned instantly. His deep tenor sent an excited thrill down my spine.

"Okay," Faith said, sounding like she wanted to add, "It's your funeral."

"We'll be out in the hall," Dad interrupted then. I heard his hand land pointedly on Faith's shoulder.

She slid her hands slowly back from my eyes, and I deliberately squeezed them shut even tighter, to make sure I didn't mess this up. I straightened to my full height as Dad and Faith's footsteps shuffled out of the room, and for the first time that day, we were alone.

I reached out slowly, fingers searching to make contact of any kind. My hand hit the smooth material covering his bicep and I swept it down his arm, seeking skin. Noah immediately clasped my hand as it slipped easily into his palm. His low chuckle emanated from his throat, a soft, loving laugh. We stood in silence for a few moments, just holding onto one another.

"You ready?" he asked quietly.

I nodded, grinning at him, keeping my eyes firmly closed.

"I've already started it for you."

I took a deep breath. "Okay."

I let go of his hand and moved it across his body, onto his stomach, where my other hand met up against the buttons of his shirt. Noah's hands then guided me up to my target, the soft silk knot of his tie resting in the middle of his chest, just under his collarbone.

I grinned harder as I took the knot in my hand and gently slid it up towards his throat. I had no idea what color scheme Noah had picked out for today, what hue the silken fabric of his tie was under my fingers, but I had been assured by highly trusted outside parties that the two of us were going to bring the house down today, wardrobe-wise. Maybe quite literally too, since the farm had stood on my grandmother's property for so long and the guests attending this event were innumerable, and no one knew what that combination would bring.

Either way, it didn't really matter. All that mattered was upholding the tradition that Noah and I had started when we were twenty, when I had found this gorgeous young man with dark hair and crystal blue eyes flailing about in front of me in dire need of help. It was one of my favorite memories of us, the one tradition I'd wanted to uphold from that very day, and I was lucky enough to have succeeded every step so far with this tiny goal.

I stopped sliding the knot when my fingers brushed the lapels of his collar, and I moved to straighten it for him without thinking. He chuckled under his breath as I finished with his neckline and smoothed my hands down his chest, making sure his entire shirt was in proper working order.

Noah's hands slid down my arms then, till our fingers connected and entwined. He gripped my hands with his own, and in my mind's eye I could see those gentle blue orbs of his, those eyes shining down at me in that expression that made my heart feel like it was being squeezed by warmth.

"I can't kiss you now," I whispered apologetically, angling my face up at him.

"I know," he responded softly. "It's okay." His lips were close; I could feel his breath on my cheek. "But just this one time, you hear?"

I laughed. "This will be the only time, I swear. You've only got a few more minutes, anyway. Then I can kiss you as many times as you want, for however long you want."

He pulled me closer to him, his body heat surrounding me. "I'll see you out there," he whispered meaningfully, then dropped his hands and took a step back from me. He was as eager to get started as I was.

Faith retrieved me from where I stood in the room and guided me back into the hall. Only after the click of the doorknob resounded behind us did she retract her hands from my face.

I blinked in the dim light of the hallway, trying to regain normal vision. I focused on my two family members, waiting for the spots to disappear. Dad clapped me on the back, his smile stretching from ear to ear.

"All right," he said encouragingly. "It's time, Luke."

I nodded back at him. Any and all edginess within me had passed.

It was time to finally marry the love of my life.