Author's Note: I wrote this for JeSouhaite, since her Lukesmut scenario didn't get assigned to anyone. This is what you get for talking me into writing smut, JeS. Thanks to CineFille and ecouteuse for the fabulous beta work. This is so much better for their feedback.
Luke closes his eyes and lets the water wash over his face, enjoying the warmth. Though he is tired, he finds that he can't make his body rest after a certain time in the morning, even when he does have the opportunity to sleep late. So as to not wake Lorelai, he has gotten up and is now taking a rare shower in her bathroom. Since they spend most of their nights together in his apartment above the diner, Luke still feels a little like a guest here in Lorelai and Rory's house.
He is roused out of his thoughts by footsteps. "Lorelai?"
"You left and the bed got cold."
"I couldn't sleep and I didn't want to wake you."
"Well, good job with that plan, but…as long as I'm up…" her voice trails off as she steps into the shower behind him.
"What are you doing?"
"What does it look like? I'm taking a shower with you. I thought maybe you would want some help washing your back," she flirts.
"What if Rory comes home?" he protests feebly.
Lorelai's voice is surprised, "It's not like she ran to the grocery store or something. She lives at Yale. Besides, what are you afraid of?"
"I just…this is your home…and Rory's home." He can't quite explain why he is hesitant. When Lorelai had confessed to him that she had never made love with a man in her house before, he felt amazed to have been invited in, but at the same time it did make him cautious. Knowing, as he does, just how strong the bond is between mother and daughter, he worries about intruding upon that relationship, about letting himself get too comfortable in their house.
"Yes… and my bathroom and my shower and now I am going to help you wash your back. So, which kind of shower gel do you want? I've got citrus splash, mango, no…I know, ginger-"
"Don't you just have normal soap?"
"Yeah, but this is more slide-y."
He's about to ask what that means when her hands start slipping over his back, down his shoulders, thumbs rubbing his neck, sliding down his spine.
She leans into his back and he can feel her breasts, her hips. He feels her whisper against his ear more than he hears it, "Anywhere else you need washed?" She reaches around his body, running her hands across his chest, and slowly sliding her body back and forth. She was right about the slide-y properties of the shower gel. Her fingers draw slow ginger scented circles on his chest, her hands making their way lower as her hips move rhythmically back and forth.
"See, now you smell like gingerbread."
"And that's a good thing?"
"Yeah. All we need now is some whipped cream. Hmm…whipped cream. Now there's an idea. I'll have to remember that."
"You're crazy. You know that, right?"
"Yeah, and you love it." She is right, of course. No one has ever been able to make him smile quite as much as she does. He finds himself enjoying life these days, especially at times like this, when she is- "What are you doing?"
"What do you mean?" she asks innocently.
"You just drew on me. You just drew a heart."
"Oh that," she giggled. "Now I'm going to draw our initials."
"What, are we in seventh grade now?"
"Well, I guess I could stop, but…" She whispers before nibbling on his earlobe and kissing along his shoulder. Her hands continue their patterns, making circles down his abdomen.
He strangles out a response, "No…you don't have to…stop. Don't stop." The spicy scent of the ginger and her soft skin sliding against his have succeeded in turning his brain to mush and awakened other parts of his anatomy. And it seems that Lorelai's hand has found one particular part of his anatomy and she's stroking it, applying enough pressure to make him groan with pleasure but not so much that she can't keep her hand sliding back and forth. All the while, her hips are doing slow circles behind. He gives in, leaning his head back, falling into the rhythm and throwing hesitation to the wind.
At that moment her other hand, which had continued drawing patterns around his chest, finds its way to his balls and begins to tease them. He lets out a deep moan, "Lorelai. Dear god, Lorelai."
As if in response to his voice, her hands gradually speed up and she plants kisses up and down his neck and across his shoulder. He feels himself about to release, and before he can, he turns gently.
"Luke…What are you?…I was…" she pouted.
"I know, and it was amazing. But it's your turn to get washed," he says as he gives her a devilish grin. He picks up the citrus shower gel and drizzles it across and in between her breasts. Using the lightest touch possible, he runs his fingers through one of the rivulets of gel and brushes circles around her abdomen. She sighs and he smiles softly, continuing moving his fingers, barely touching her skin. He feels her shiver and slides his fingers up her side and around her breast.
"Luke," she protests, "You're…you're tickling me."
"Really?" His voice is all innocence as he continues his torment. "So you're ticklish. This should be fun."
Now that she's discovered his intention, he tickles her deliberately, tapping his fingers up and down her sides, lightly brushing those places that seem to be most sensitive. His earlier caution has fled his mind and he marvels at the way that Lorelai puts him at ease, even as she is bringing out a playful side he didn't realize he had.
His touches are making her shudder, laughs coming out in between gasps, "Luke," she says again, reaching for his hands as he deftly evades them. "Luke…stop."
Her words still him for a moment and he checks her expression, making sure he hasn't gone too far. She takes the opportunity to grab his hands and grin triumphantly, "Finally. Now you have to promise that you'll stop tickling me."
"Why?" he shoots back, challenging her with a grin of his own.
"Because if you don't stop I'm going to end up curled in a quivering heap in the bathtub and I'll probably break an ankle or wrist in the process and then this little escapade will be over." She is still holding his hands firmly, but she pushes them to the side and leans into him, pressing herself against his erection. "You don't want that, do you?"
"Uh…no. Don't…want that." His voice gets caught in his throat as she moves her hips against his, wraps her arms around his neck and kisses him.
His hands slide over her back, fingers kneading her soft skin. He presses kisses across her shoulder, up her neck, and down her jaw. She moans softly, and he slides one hand up to the base of her neck, tangling his fingers in her hair. She leans into him, her breasts brushing across his chest, causing them both to moan. By the way that she is arching toward him, Luke knows that she wants him to touch her breasts, but he is waiting, teasing her a bit as he brushes his lips and fingers across her neck and shoulders.
Finally, Lorelai becomes impatient and nudges his hand toward her chest. He looks at her with a small smile, "I thought you didn't want me to tickle you."
"Then don't," she says, looking him in the eye.
He pauses for a moment before backing away enough to slide his hand down her chest and underneath her breast, his touch firmer now. His fingers slip around one breast, spiraling inward, spreading the citrus gel around her curves. She moans in appreciation.
"Oh, so this is what you meant?" he asks teasingly.
"Yeah…this…works," she manages, breathlessly.
Luke flattens his palm against her nipple and makes tiny circles, the shower gel providing just enough slip to balance the friction of his movements. He slides his other hand down from her neck and repeats the motion with the other breast, listening to her moan with pleasure and feeling her hips grind into his. She presses closer to him and he slips his hands around to run them up and down her back.
Lorelai wraps her arms tightly around his neck, giving him a sly grin before pulling his lips to hers. She continues moving against him for endless moments, breasts slipping against his chest and her hips pressed into his erection. The sensation is intoxicating and he's so turned on he can hardly breathe. "God, you're killing me," he groans into her mouth.
"Well then, what're we going to about that?" she asks, leaning back to give him a seductive smile.
Looking her in the eye, he supports her with one hand and uses the other to guide himself into her. Or tries to. It's just that the shower gel is slippery where his hand is holding her hip and he can't quite keep her steady. "Damn shower gel," he mutters after a few moments, as Lorelai chuckles into his shoulder.
She moans when he is finally successful, running her hands all over his back, the shower gel working its magic. As he thrusts up into her, she finds his mouth with hers and attacks it with fierce kisses. The citrus and ginger scents combine to create a heady sensation, and the feeling of her sliding against his chest is unbelievable. Her soft, muffled moans make him thrust faster and soon he is coming hard and fast. Lorelai's moans become a plea. He slips his hand between them and with small circles of his thumb brings her over the edge, until she is gasping and burying her face in his shoulder.
They both collapse against the wall and catch their breath. Luke holds her face in his hands and kisses her deeply. He feels her shake a bit and pulls back to see her smiling and laughing, "So flannel man, how do you feel about shower gel now?"
Luke pours the coffee grounds into the coffee maker, listening to the sound of the water running in the shower upstairs. Lorelai had taken the opportunity to shampoo her hair and shave her legs and though Luke had offered to help, she had subtly hinted that she would like some coffee. He smiles as the morning's events play back in his head and he hopes the coffee finishes in time for him to get upstairs before she is dressed. Jeez, I am getting comfortable here. Though he had thrown on his jeans and t-shirt, he is aware of his missing flannel and shoes. He wonders if he's ever been bare foot outside the confines of Lorelai's bedroom or bathroom. It makes him aware, once again, how comfortable she makes him feel, regardless how cautious he's been about his relationship with Lorelai affecting her relationship with Rory.
He hears the sound of a door opening and footsteps, but doesn't register it until he hears Rory's voice, "Luke?"
"Oh…uh…Rory. You surprised me. I didn't know that you were here."
"I'm sorry. A meeting at the paper got canceled so I decided to come home last night."
"Don't apologize. It's your house. I shouldn't…if I'd known, I would've stayed…" Luke's voice trails off as the situation strikes him. He feels naked without his flannel, without his shoes. He can't stop thinking about what he and Lorelai were doing just minutes before, while Rory was in the house. Embarrassment and guilt crash down on him and he can't meet her eyes.
"Luke, you don't have to stay away when I'm here."
"But you shouldn't have to wake up to find some man in your kitchen."
"You're not 'some man.' You're Luke."
He looks at her blankly, not understanding her meaning.
She must see his confusion, because she gives him a shy smile and says, "I've been hoping you two would get together for, like, forever." He looks at her with wide eyes, touched and awed by her words. She looks away for a moment, then adds, "So…uh, it's okay that you stay over here. Not that you need my permission or anything."
"I wouldn't stay if it made you uncomfortable."
Rory looks at him thoughtfully, "I know you wouldn't, and I know mom wouldn't want me to be uncomfortable either. She told me once that she didn't want to bring a guy home unless…" She pauses then, looking at him, perhaps worried about sharing too much. "She didn't want to bring just anyone home."
"I know," he says softly, remembering he and Lorelai's first night in this house, remembering what it meant that she'd invited him to stay.
"I'm glad it's you, Luke."
"Thanks, Rory," he responds, finally meeting her eyes.
"You know, you make her happy. She told me that."
He is suddenly blushing and looking at his feet. "Well…uh."
Rory continues, stammering a bit, "I mean not …details…I don't want to know…" her voice trails off and now she seems uncomfortable.
Luke suddenly becomes conscious again of that feeling of nakedness, of being exposed. "That's good…I guess."
"Yeah. Good. Details not necessary." She smiles at him then, as if to reassure him.
Luke desperately wants to get away from this topic of conversation. "I was going to make your Mom some breakfast. You want some?"
"That would be nice." She pauses as she glances over at the coffee maker, "Hey Luke, is that coffee ready yet?"
He nods and pours some into a mug before handing it to her.
She takes a small sip and grins, pointing at her cup, "This right here is amazing. You can stay here anytime if I can have this coffee without leaving the house."
Luke shakes his head in mock exasperation and Rory laughs. He marvels once again at the feeling of being allowed into Lorelai and Rory's life.
From the next room, Luke hears Lorelai bounding down the stairs. "If that coffee is as good as it smells, you will be totally forgiven for the tickling, though I have to say that the wonderfulness that is your slide-y shower gel fingers mostly made up for it already. Who knew that you were hiding all that sexy shower fun under your-" She stopped short as she entered the kitchen. "Oh my god. Rory. I didn't know you'd be here."
"Obviously." Rory looks like she can't decide whether to laugh out loud or run away and bury her head in the sand.
Not since he was ten years old had Luke so wished for a transporter. He would give almost anything to be able to beam himself somewhere right now. So much for avoiding the gory details.
Fin