Disclaimer: I do not own anything of As the World Turns. No profit is being made from this. I also do not own anything connected to REO Speedwagon's "Keep On Loving You".
Notes: I blame my parents for this one. :-) They have this fantastic "Best of the 80s" CD that we listen to on road trips, which I enjoy very much, as I am a child of the 80s. :-) After listening to the CD just the other night with the folks, this story came to me.
This fic takes place early in Luke and Noah's relationship, before they've become as established as they are now. Hope you enjoy! Please drop me a line. :-)
Keep On Loving You
Luke heard the apprehension in his father's voice before Holden even opened his mouth. "Luke—"
"Dad!" Luke cut Holden off impatiently. He took a breath to steady his temper, then said, "I'm okay, really."
Holden eyed the picnic basket in front of his son, resting on the island countertop in the farm kitchen. He knew how much Luke wanted to do this – wanted to go out – but he was worried about his son. It had only been a day since he'd been out of bed, after finally getting over being stricken with the flu.
Holden shifted his weight, trying to balance the words carefully in his head. "I just don't want you to overexert yourself. You worked a lot around here today."
Luke's mouth curled up into a half-smile. "Lucky for you," he teased. "But I'm really fine, Dad. I eat dinner all the time. I'm actually a bit of a seasoned pro at it."
Holden drew a breath in, willing himself not to laugh at Luke's light-hearted sarcasm. He knew his argument was already lost on Luke. After a week in bed and only brief visits from Noah at night, Luke was itching – dying – to get out of the house. And mucking the stalls out in the barn earlier today didn't count.
But a nighttime picnic with the boyfriend he hadn't seen more than three hours total that week definitely did, which is why Luke was turning to the fridge and grabbing drinks to pack into the picnic basket in front of him, humming under his breath. He wasn't intentionally ignoring Holden's warning. He was just too excited to be going out on a date to care about much else.
Holden sighed in defeat and gave up willingly on Luke. It was good to see him so happy after days of fevers and shivers and stomachaches. "Just be careful," Holden cautioned, then he smiled and shook his head at Luke and left the kitchen.
It was then that Noah appeared through the farm door to Luke's left. The wonderfully delicious scent of takeout food wafted from the brown bag he held in his hands, and the two boys smiled at each other. Noah's blue eyes sparkled in the glare of the kitchen light as he stepped close to Luke, still clutching his bag.
"Hello, there, Mr. Snyder," Noah greeted him, his mouth curling into a grin. "Good to see you up and about tonight."
Luke took the paper bag from Noah's hands and set it on the counter in front of him. "Thank you," he replied earnestly, smiling at his handsome boyfriend. "I feel great today."
Noah watched as Luke reached into the bag and drew out the containers of Chinese food. He placed them into the picnic basket one by one, humming to himself.
Noah chuckled as he watched Luke. "I can see that. You're very energetic."
Luke grinned at Noah once more. "So energetic that Dad put me to work this afternoon."
"Wow," Noah responded with mock admiration, lifting an eyebrow. "You're a trooper, Snyder."
Luke flexed his left bicep at Noah. "Strong like bull," he responded in a horrible Russian accent, his smile breaking wide over his face.
Noah rolled his eyes but still laughed at Luke, who continued to pack the basket with fervor. Noah waited until he was done, realizing that there was a method to Luke's packing madness that he likely did not want interrupted, and then took the basket off the counter while Luke moved to lift his jacket from the hook by the hutch.
They walked out to Noah's truck arm in arm, Noah holding tightly to the basket. He opened the passenger door for Luke, who slid in with a grin, muttering something about "How chivalrous of you, Mr. Mayer," then watched as Noah placed the basket by his feet on the floor. Noah smiled at him as he shut the door, then joined Luke in the cab of the truck as he slid onto his seat and turned the ignition.
*
As they drove in comfortable silence, Noah pointed to the glove box. "Open it," he instructed.
Luke's eyes lit up with intrigue in the darkness of the cab. "What is it?" he asked, clicking the knob in front of him.
"Surprise," Noah said in a singsong tone as the little hinged door fell open. Luke stared inside it in halfhearted disbelief.
"What the hell is this?" he demanded, reaching in and drawing out the contents of the glove box. He held one item up to his left for Noah to look at.
"That," Noah explained, giving Luke a sideways glance, "is called a scarf, Luke. You know, a garment you wear to keep your neck warm?"
Luke huffed and dropped the scarf to the seat next to him. He fingered the gloves in his lap, the black stretchy acrylic that had fallen from Noah's glove box as he'd drawn the scarf out. "And these?" Luke pressed.
"Gloves," Noah drawled slowly, speaking as though he was afraid Luke didn't understand English. "For keeping your fingers warm."
Luke ignored Noah's sarcasm and sighed, turning his face to the window. "My dad called you, didn't he?"
Noah chuckled under his breath, one hand on the steering wheel. "He was worried about you, Luke. He wants you to stay healthy."
"Yeah, but…" Luke turned back to the winter garments strewn across his lap, spilling onto the seat. "Don't you think this is a bit overkill?"
Noah laughed again under his breath. "It's gonna be cold out there," he reasoned.
"It's May!" Luke shot back, but his tone was simmering down to simple acceptance. He knew he could never be too mad at Holden for too long, especially when he was just looking out for Luke's well-being.
Noah laughed yet again as Luke turned his face away from the deviant winter gear in his lap, as if he was trying to ignore their existence. "Come on," Noah prodded good-naturedly, glancing at Luke. "You look sexy in scarves."
Luke considered his words for a moment, trying to keep a smile off his face at Noah's compliment. "Well, in that case…" He picked the gray scarf up from the seat and entwined it loosely around his neck. He pursed his lips at Noah, trying and failing to be seductive. Instead he elicited an amused grunt from his boyfriend.
"And the gloves, too," Noah encouraged. "I don't think I've ever told you how hot you are when you wear gloves."
Luke sighed into his lap, then pulled the gloves on reluctantly, muttering, "I know how hot. I'm gonna have heat stroke before we even get to the beach."
Noah reached over and took Luke's gloved hand in his own. "Don't worry," he assured sweetly, playing along with Luke's grumbled complaint. "I'll take care of you."
Luke smiled at him, a genuine grin that made his eyes gleam in the passing streetlights. Noah knew that Luke was over being upset about his father's intrusion into their plans, and the contentment of being out with Noah was bringing him back to his usual jovial disposition. Luke hummed under his breath as they held hands till Noah pulled into the parking lot by the beach.
*
"What kind are you eating?" Luke asked over his chopsticks.
He and Noah sat on the blanket close to the dunes, the salty breeze from the sea drifting by them. Noah had carried the picnic basket down through the sand, Luke clutching tightly to his arm, and together they had spread the blanket and climbed on. After Luke had settled himself into a comfortable position, Noah had draped a small fleece over his lap. From where this blanket emanated, Luke did not know, but before he could protest, he'd caught Noah's eyes as he placed the blanket over Luke's legs, and the sheer happiness that shone on his face had destroyed any harsh words in Luke's throat. Noah's lips on his forehead had further crushed any building objections.
Noah studied the inside of his container. "Um…I think it's urchin."
Luke suddenly felt lightheaded, his chopsticks nearly falling from his hand. "Seriously?" he croaked out. The white container in his left hand wilted down to his side, and he braced himself on the blanket they sat on.
Noah broke out into a laugh. "Kidding!" he reassured, watching as Luke's face turned about ten shades of green. "I'm kidding. It's chicken, I promise."
"Oh, God," Luke responded. He took a large breath to compose himself, then shoved Noah on the shoulder playfully once he fully recovered. "You were almost about to witness me tossing my cookies there, Mayer."
Noah smirked at him. "Wouldn't be the first time this week," he replied. "You took down one of my favorite flannels just a couple nights ago."
Luke slumped, half in embarrassment and half in guilt. "Sorry about that," he apologized sincerely. He remembered how suddenly it had all very literally come up. He'd never gotten sick in front of Noah before, but it did not seem to faze his boyfriend. Noah had taken it all in stride, as if Luke had merely asked him to give him a hug or a handshake instead of holding a plastic bucket in front of his face for him.
Noah reached for Luke's gloved hand and kissed the back of it. "No worries," he told Luke, looking at him through those lashes that Luke swore grew half an inch every time he saw them. "That flannel didn't stand a chance. You puke like a champ. They should give you a prizefighting belt for that TKO the other night."
Luke threw his hands up, feigning exasperation, as he knew Noah was teasing. Luke Snyder, middleweight puking defender. "Thanks…?"
Noah laughed, then returned to his dinner. After a few more steadying breaths, Luke returned to his as well. The beef Noah had picked for him tasted marvelous, as Luke had not eaten solid foods for the past week. Today had been the first day for a real breakfast and a light lunch. And a real date with this beautiful, kind-hearted man who sat across from him as the ocean waves rolled quietly in towards the shore.
*
The picnic basket had been re-packed with the leftovers and moved to the cool sand next to the blanket. Noah lay stretched out on his back, his right arm tucked underneath his head as a makeshift pillow. Luke watched him gaze at the darkened night sky for a moment, then curled up perpendicular to Noah, his right cheek against Noah's stomach, small fleece blanket still wrapped comfortingly around his waist. He faced his boyfriend, watching as Noah's eyes leisurely roamed the sky. Noah's other hand rested against his chest, but at the press of Luke's face against him, he moved his hand down to tangle into Luke's blonde locks.
Noah stroked absentmindedly as Luke closed his eyes. They remained quiet in each other's presence, Noah enjoying the heat and pressure of Luke's body against his, Luke enjoying the gentle fingers playing across his forehead into his hair, the light musky scent of Noah drifting into his nose. Sweet, musky, sturdy Noah, whose fabric softener was mixing with the salt in the air. Without realizing it, Luke began humming again. Noah smiled at the vibration against his stomach as it seeped through his clothes.
Luke's humming was interrupted as he laughed under his breath. For a moment, Noah thought he was entertaining a funny thought, perhaps an anecdote from earlier in the day when Luke had helped with the farm chores, but when Luke pressed his ear further into Noah's stomach and laughed quietly again, he had to ask. "What?"
Noah's voice was hushed, calm. It made Luke feel safe. "Your stomach," Luke answered, burrowing a little further into Noah, careful not to press too hard. "It's making funny noises."
Noah raised an eyebrow as their eyes connected through the darkness surrounding them. "Oh yeah?"
"Yeah."
"What does it sound like?" Noah asked. He waited patiently, knowing that Luke would have a hell of a time trying to describe the sounds that were churning inside him.
Luke listened intently for a few seconds, then opened his mouth. He raised his left hand as if to aid in the description, but it didn't seem to help, as he dropped it immediately and wrinkled his brow in what seemed like confusion. Luke closed his mouth and then opened it again, his lips forming silent adjectives, then he looked helplessly up at Noah and shrugged. "Sounds like…digestive stuff."
Noah laughed at Luke's final answer, his deep tenor radiating from the depths of his throat. "Don't overwhelm me with those complicated SAT words," he joked, switching his gaze back up to the sky. "I might not be able to follow."
Luke had half a mind to give him another playful smack, but he abstained. If Noah was half as full as he was, getting whacked would be the last thing he'd want at this moment.
Luke went back to humming, snuggling deeper into Noah. He hated to admit it, but he was toasty with the scarf wrapped around his neck, and his fingers were comfortably heated within the acrylic of the gloves. The fleece around his waist not only provided warmth but also filled the gap between where his body connected with Noah's, creating a cozy bridge between the two of them. And he hadn't coughed, sneezed, or even thought about being sick since they'd arrived at the beach. He made a mental note to thank Holden for pestering Noah to bring the extra articles of clothing to wear tonight.
Noah broke into Luke's thoughts then. "What are you humming?" he asked, his voice remaining hushed and calm the way Luke liked it.
"What? Oh." Luke felt the back of his neck heat up in a blush. "Um…it's this dumb song…"
Noah had now fixed his gaze on Luke, who cleared his throat. "What song?"
Luke smiled sheepishly. "Dad had the radio on while we worked in the barn today," he began. "Some eighties-type station. This song he loves came on, and now it's stuck in my head."
"How does it go?" Noah asked, honestly interested.
Luke fought the blush that was now creeping onto his cheeks. Karaoke hadn't been one of the things to do on Luke and Noah's date list, but Luke supposed it would come up sooner or later, and he shouldn't try to dodge it. He cleared his throat again, then nuzzled Noah deeper in an effort to relax.
"I'm gonna keep on loving you," he sang lightly, almost under his breath. "'Cause it's the only thing I wanna do…"
His eyes connected with Noah's. The indigo irises that belonged to his boyfriend seemed transfixed; not by Luke's slightly less than fabulous singing voice, but by the lyrics flowing from Luke's lips. He continued, liking Noah's attention.
"I don't wanna sleep, I just wanna keep on loving you…" Luke sang some of the accompanying instrumental bars, then repeated the first line of the chorus, feeling much more at ease. He wasn't the best vocalist in the world, but he wasn't tone deaf, either. That much he was sure of.
Noah hadn't taken his eyes off his boyfriend since his initial inquiry, and as Luke's singing died down into silence, Noah retracted his right hand from behind his head and, using the hand that was already curled into Luke's hair, he gently urged Luke forward, towards his face. Luke scooted closer as Noah pulled, their noses lining up against one another.
Noah regarded him calmly for a moment, his blue eyes roving over Luke's face, then he pulled Luke's mouth to his own and kissed him, gently at first, then blossoming deeper against Luke's lips. Luke kissed Noah back, their lips breaking apart and meeting slowly, rhythmically gliding against one another's mouth, hot and moist and deliciously amorous. Noah's fingertips played in Luke's hair as Luke steadied one hand over Noah's shoulder and one hand against the dark locks at the nape of Noah's neck.
Luke finally pulled away when the thought of his recent illness wormed its way back into his idle brain. He studied Noah's face, which was as serene as his voice had been, and he reached to smooth moisture away from Noah's mouth, left there by his own.
"I don't want to get you sick," Luke whispered, although at this point, he knew this afterthought was completely moot.
Noah smiled lovingly at him with that face that made Luke's knees weak, then murmured, "Don't care," before pulling Luke's mouth back to his. Luke grinned into the kiss as Noah pulled him flush against his own body and wrapped his strong arms around him.
*
Luke fell asleep against Noah's shoulder on the car ride home, still bundled into his scarf and gloves, his blonde hair spilling against Noah's dark jacket. When Noah gently roused him to announce they were home, he smiled sleepily up at those blue eyes and allowed Noah to escort him to the farm's kitchen door, where he assured his taller boyfriend that he could make it upstairs to bed on his own. They held each other tightly outside the door, then kissed softly goodnight, and Luke turned to smile and offer a drowsy wave at Noah before he shut the door behind him.
When Noah climbed back into his truck, he turned the radio on for company. After switching a few random channels, he stopped on one as the lyrics of the current song playing caught his ear. He listened with a smile on his face the entire drive back to the dorm.
REO Speedwagon may have originally performed the song, but Luke's sweetly tentative voice rang clear as a bell in Noah's head. This song was not written for them; in fact, they were still a relatively unknown couple here in Oakdale, but the lyrics fit them all the same.
And I meant every word I said…
When I said that I love you I meant
that I love you forever…
And I'm gonna keep on loving you…
'cause its the only thing I wanna do…
I dont wanna sleep,
I just wanna keep on loving you…
I'm gonna keep on loving you…