This chapter takes place during my FAVORITE episode of the whole Luke/Reid story line. When Reid coldly tells him something's gone wrong with the surgery and Luke confronts him in the apartment. They have THE hottest kiss of "As the World Turns". Van Hansis just sold the scene, he's looking fine with my favorite haircut and some snazzy threads. But he really does deserve and Emmy for his performance in that scene, the utter desperateness and the way he trembles before Reid kisses him is perfect. But this is how the scene would have gone if I had my way.

I was sinking. Sinking quickly without a raft in sight, no one to pull me out. Since those toneless words flowed so easily out of his barly moving lips, "There may be brain damage." No reassurance, just straight, cold fact. Why couldn't I just accept that? Why? Beause the only man I ever loved enough to push me to such great lengths had entered that surgery chamber scared for his life, excited for the sun outside to mean something again, finally asking for me again. I pleaded with him to trust, assured him there was nothing to fear—but now….

The brown jacketed back was to me, headed in an aimless way to the door he had burst through.

"Yes you do," I declared in the heavy air, begging him to turn around and look at me and praying that I wouldn't see the betrayal in his eyes as strongly. Hoping that the distrust and desperity watering his eyes was just imagined. He stiffened, and crookedly returned to face me, his lips pressed together and chin dimpled like he was holding something in .

"You can't look at me, and tell me you don't know who I am," I bore into his face, watching it fissure with self doubt.

His voice creaked, "Then how did this happen?"

The utter hopelessness painted all over his movements threw me, "I wish…" I started without commitment to an explaination, but watching him hang on to the words like a life vest had me finish with, "I don't know."

Which was false. I always knew, I always knew everything. Nothing uprooted me, nothing derailed me, I was incorruptible in my life and infallible in my work.

But this boy debunked me, I was navigating an unfamiliar turf. Just a half glance from him in the halls tweaked me in ways I'd never felt before, I wanted him and I couldn't stand it.

"You told me," he began slowly with a shallow breath," that you could fix him. You promised. Noah couldn't handle being blind. So I gave him the one chance in the world he thought he had by bringing you here. And now," his voice trailed as he swallowed, tenuously darting his eyes around the room, "this. And if h—if he's never the same again," he clicked pitifully, "If he doesn't make it through this, then I j—"he looked at me in a communicating sort of way, trying to make me see what he couldn't say.

"You can't what?"

His eyes flicked to the carpeted floor like an explanation was nestled in the shag, not finding it he resorted to his best answer, "I don't—I" finally raising his eyes to me, "I can't."

My eyes narrowed and I took a step, shrinking out distance, "You can't…what?" leaving space for the answer I needed. I reached a hand forward and ghosted my fingers on his cheek. His throat bobbed but no sound came out. No word of explanation.

"You can't what Luke?" I said softly, my gaze never wavering and looming closer. He trembled with conflict and licked his bottom lip weakly.

A red shirt clad arm rested on my neck, the pads of his fingers only just gracing my cheekbones. My eyes traveled against my will down his unveiled chest. Faintly I realized that I'd never seen Reid without a shirt, funny to recall that in all of this turmoil. But I couldn't help noting the way his flawless waist dipped into his pants and how much further down I wanted to see.

I couldn't answer; something was stuck in my throat, what I can't do. I can't want him this much. Not now.

But I did.

Dewey brown eyes tracked over my face searchingly. Pressing my hand closer I leaned in, his face tipped shakily to me, which was all the inclination I needed. I nipped at his pouted bottom lip, he slighted back and I followed out of sheer selfish need, grabbing another mouthful. The taste of him was intoxicating, the wet of his mouth on mine addicting.

Timid fingers curled into the hair on the back of my neck as a breath rattled across my lips, evidence of Luke trying to steady himself. The hand grew stronger, more urgent, deepening the kiss like he couldn't stop. Another hand joined the first, clawing my scalp in heat, his arousal beating with mine.

I was being led to places I couldn't see a way back from. Nothing would take back the kiss I was melting greedily into, the hands pulling me closer, and the soft hair rustling between my fingers. I let myself be led. Wherever this was taking me, at least it was away from here and all of the powerlessness of letting go of Noah.

There was no promise of something else waiting at the end, just second by second touching and feeling. Secluded harshness in the way he bit at my lips, only us and the raw need fed by the confusion surrounding our agitated wrestling.

I peeled away from Luke's open mouth, only to expose him more, possess more. My fingers flew down his shirt, tearing out button by button, his creamy skin callously revealed by my franticness. He clasped his hands around my jaws, I looked searingly up at his molten eyes. They geared me farther away from reality, just experiencing the heat in his touch. His hands slid down my neck, crushing his mouth again to mine, hands gaining purchase on my shirt. I dove in and pressed his face closer.

With a quick jerk I slopped him onto the couch, stripping him of his shirt and jacket, not even caring where they landed as I tossed them. He panted when my lips detached from his, I whipped my shirt off as he fumbled with my belt, not succeeding. My knee ground into his crotch, producing a startled groan.

I snatched at the waistband of his pants with dire need, pulling them lower and lower. He pulled himself up right unexpectedly, watching me tug at his trousers. I halted at the blankness in his face, my hands frozen, even with their prize mere centimeters away. He smoothly moved my hands away, I balked and sat back on my heels. Never faltering in eye contact he turned over and bent on the couch. His back muscles rippled and he shivered when I placed a hand on his near bare hip.

My fingers tucked into his pants and drug them to hit the floor where his knees were. Crawling over him so my flipping stomach warmed the small of his back, I trailed a hand past his naval and gripped his hip with my other hand. Then, at an agonizingly slow pace I pressed in behind him. His abs quaked under my palm, he stuttered out a breath and held it there. The tension around my cock threatened to cripple me, I grunted into his shoulder blade.

His hand groped down my spine, thrilling nerves to a panic in his path, he arched his back to the side. Allowing me to see his face, lips agape, eyes shut, and the tendons in his neck standing out. I paused until I felt the subtle movement of him sliding back on me, I thrust in. He let out a strangulated moan and buried his face his arm.

Reid's length was sheathed fully behind me, I relished in the presence. He moved gingerly, but that wasn't what I needed. I needed to silence the clashing doubts inside of me, to shatter it. Maneuvering myself, I shoved onto him, which he responded to by driving in harder.

I dove with mounting force each time, my breathing grew ragged and moisture beaded on my brow. Luke's knuckles clenched white on the white upholstery of the three seater couch. His body had grown slick with sweat and moved with mine in heated rhythm, each of us suffering from blind arousal. I needed him so bad, and I so badly wanted him to need me half as much. I felt around his neck, fingers sliding over his gasping face and found his pulse right below his rugged jaw line. Accelerating, identical to mine.

The room filled with our laboring breaths, occasionally punctured by a moan from Luke, which fired me harder. I pulsed inside him painfully, close to release. Luke's body rocked against mine needfully, even when his face twisted in pain.

I rammed one final time, folding over his body and unable to restrain it I let my mouth slack and released inside of him. His watery, vacant eyes cast over my heaving face, they shut and he collapsed beneath me.

I wasn't feeling, not really. It was a numbness I wasn't sure I felt comfortable in. our shared sweat cooled on my skin, leaving a clammy dry. I'd watched his face as he came, watched it contort and felt him hold me to him while the passion wracked his body. We'd done it, and Noah was unconcerned on a cold hospital cot, in a white room, blind or not, at Memorial. And here I was, boneless and ass up in the air, with Reid removing himself from behind, my hand wet with myself. It's hard to despise yourself more, but somehow I managed.

Luke limped over to his pants, his face betraying every shot of pain. I replaced my own clothes, and now covered strode over to him, stroking the side of his face. His pupils darted around in avoidance while his lips worked at something to say, but caught on nothing. I dipped my head lower to look up at him, as his eyes had finally rested on socked feet.

If anything, he looked more bereft than before our lips met. His hair mussed every which way, plump lips reddened, jerky movements, dirty evidence I assumed he wished he could erase.

I dropped my hand and turned away, not wanting to look at what I was seeing and reading into any longer. I cleared my throat, "We should, ah, go back to the hospital."

With a quick glance over at Luke, fully dressed now and slouching on his jacket, "See if there's been any progress and Noah's condition." He started at the mention of Noah's name.

With a low gruff voice he said, "Yeah, let's do that."

As I took the lead out the door, I couldn't help but think I'd shattered something pure.