"I'm all in."
*A/N* I'm a little rusty, please forgive me. I've not written anything remotely creative for about ten years. Owing to the pandemic, I've had a lot more time on my hands, and what started as a Netflix binge of my favourite show from my late teens, has now developed into a full blow obsession. Luke and Lorelai make my heart ache and my brain buzz with ideas. For the first time in a long time I feel like flexing the ol' writing muscles again. Criticism is welcomed; comments are adored; don't be a stranger - drop me a line! Enjoy. *
"I can't believe you kept this. You kept this in your wallet? You kept this in your wallet."
"Eight years."
She exhaled heavily, "Eight years…"
Lorelai's heart pounded as she stared at the crumpled newspaper clipping. Eight years. Eight years he'd had this scrap of paper folded away in his wallet – wait, dare she say it – lovingly folded away in his wallet. Of course, it was the town's worst kept secret that he'd always carried a candle for her, but this…this was more than a candle. This was a torch, one of those big ones that travels around the world before lighting the Olympic flame.
Hell, this was one of those torches that angry villagers carried on their way to burn down the house of the local raving lunatic. This was a bonfire of a torch.
She noticed his hands were shaking as he retrieved the delicate square of paper. She wanted to reach out and hold them, but she knew Luke wasn't a very tactile man and revealing this to her would have been a big deal for him. A very big deal. She smiled as she watched him nervously fumble and fold the clipping away and place it back to where it had lived for the last Eight Years.
"Lorelai…this thing we're doing here, me and you…"
Oh god. Me and Luke. We're a thing.
"I just want you to know that I'm in – I am all in."
Her breath hitched in her throat. In the dim light of Sniffy's Tavern, his blue eyes shone beneath his dark lashes. This man. This glorious, wondrous, beautiful man. Had she been walking around with her eyes closed for the last eight years? Why had it taken her till that exact moment to properly see him? See that he was more than just the guy who poured her coffee, or the guy who fixed her porch railings; he was more than just the guy who broke in to fix a window, or the guy who prepared mountains of mashed potatoes for Rory when she had chicken pox. He was Luke. Her Luke. It all made sense now. He didn't do these things because he was her friend. He did these things because he cared. Like, truly, deeply cared.
He folded his arms on top of the table and she inwardly appreciated how the charcoal shirt strained across his biceps. He'd traded his usual flannel attire for a collar. 'Banks like collars,' he'd once told her. Well, as it turned out, Lorelai liked them on him too.
"Are you, uh – does that, uh – are you scared?"
She could see that he was. His fingers nervously drummed round the base of his champagne flute and she could feel his knee bouncing under the table. His gaze grew ever more intense as he waited for her response. Right, words, come on, say something… But for once in her life she was speechless. She knew her inability to form sentences chalked her up to being the cheesiest of cliches, but man…Luke had floored her. Usually, getting anything more than ten syllables from him was a feat!
Luke felt his palms prickle with sweat. 'Damn it. Me and my big mouth.' He scolded himself as he fiddled with the base of his glass. His mouth was dry and he struggled to swallow. What was she doing? Why wasn't she talking? This was the woman who could sell sand to the Sheik of Dubai and yet here she was….silent! She talked in her sleep, even Luke knew that from the night he'd surrendered his bed to her after the fire at the inn. So why wasn't she saying anything?
He glanced at his watch, absolutely sure that an eternity had passed since his last comment and he began to pray that any moment now, a comet would scream down to earth and end all life as they knew it. Burning to death had to be less painful than this mortifying silence, hadn't it?
When he'd steeled his nerves enough to look back at her, he saw she was smiling. And what was that colour on her cheeks? No, it couldn't be? Lorelai Gilmore couldn't be blushing? This woman was shameless - she didn't blush; she took Rory to Chilton in hotpants, for crying out loud! Surely his revelation wasn't a surprise to her? Surely she had to know how he felt? It wasn't like he'd been subtle at any point in the last eight years. She'd caught him staring at her at least a million times. And then there was all the free coffee. He charged everyone else full price, but not her. Never her. Some days he'd operated at a loss in trying to keep her in caffeine and donuts. But he didn't care. Not if meant that he got to see her smile that day. He just liked to see her happy.
He looked away and stared at his champagne, wishing with all his might that it would turn into a beer so he could down it in one gulp and quench his parched throat. Had he caught fire yet? His soaring temperature and prickling sweat in his palms made him think so.
"Luke…"
This is it. This is where she tells me thanks, but no thanks. This is where she says psycho stalkers just aren't my type.
He couldn't tear his eyes away from the stem of his champagne flute. He didn't want her to see the crushing disappointment on his face as she let him down.
Then her weight shifted and could he could feel her next to him. There was barely and inch between their two bodies and the heat radiating between them was palpable.
"I could never be afraid of you, Luke," she whispered as she wound one arm across the back of his shoulders, and placed her other hand on his shaking knee under the table.
Her fingers scorched him through the denim of his jeans. Not since the kiss outside The Dragonfly, some seven weeks ago, had they physically been as close as this. He could smell the delicate florals of her perfume mingled with fruity notes of her shampoo; the crystals on the necklace that was resting just above her clavicle twinkled in the low light from the candle on the table. He took a deep breath to slow his racing heart and reached one hand under to entwine his fingers with hers. He saw her eyes flash to his lips and that was all the invitation he needed. He dropped his chin and brought his lips to hers once, twice, and then let the third one linger softly. She sighed and moved further into him to deepen the kiss…
"You asked for a beer?" The sound of Maisie's chipper voice startled them out of it. "Whoops! Sorry for interrupting, Lucas!"
When Luke looked at the face of the delighted old woman as she placed two cold beers on the table, he could see that she was not sorry at all. He would have words for her the next time he came for breakfast.
"I'll let you get back to it. Food will be another thirty minutes, so you've got plenty of time to finish that kiss…"
Luke rolled his eyes as Maisie scuttled off, and Lorelai chucked softly as she shifted back round the booth. Before she could move too far away, Luke put one hand on her knee, boldened by the fact she hadn't turned and run a mile at his confession. "We'll finish that later."
The gruff timbre of his voice made Lorelai shiver with delicious expectation.
"And I'm not forgetting my promise of giving you some extremely positive reviews on aspects of your being," he continued, his voice barely above a whisper, squeezing her knee and then letting his fingers trail along her inner thigh, enjoying the way she drew a sharp intake of breath, before placing both his forearms atop the table again.
Conversation resumed and it ebbed and flowed easily between them. Watching him pull that horoscope out of his wallet had opened a floodgate in Lorelai. Everything he said fascinated her, and she marveled at the way Luke's smile reached all the way to the depths of his indigo eyes as they swapped memories and anecdotes. Seeing his bicep flex every time he lifted his beer bottle to his lips made desire coil in the pit of her stomach, made only tighter when she saw his tongue dart out to lick the foam from his upper lip. She remembered how softly his tongue had traced hers when they had kissed outside The Dragonfly, and now she was having visions of that tongue carrying out much less delicate ministrations on a location on her body much further south than her mouth. It was only when she saw Luke rise from the table and offer his hand out did she realise that he'd asked her a question.
"You ready to go?"
She smiled and gripped his long fingers as he helped her out of the booth, coming to her feet barely an inch away from his solid form. He grinned as he threaded his fingers easily through hers and lead her out of Sniffy's Tavern.
"That was nice, thank you," she said as they strolled across the car park to his truck; she couldn't take her eyes off their interlaced fingers – their flesh moulded as one.
"Just nice?" he threw a sidelong glance at her and quirked an eyebrow. "Puppies are nice. Ice cream is nice. Birdsong in springtime is nice. I was going for something a little more….. than nice…." He barked a laugh and the masculine, throaty sound was enough to push her over the edge.
By this time they had reached the passenger side of his truck and Luke extricated his fingers from Lorelai's to pat his jeans to find his keys. Lorelai made use of having both hands free to place her palms against his shoulders and gently push him into the side door. Her lips covered his before he had the chance to say anything and she moved her hands over his shoulders to cradle his face, enjoying the way his stubble bristled against her palms. She captured his bottom lip first and pulled on it gently with her teeth, eliciting a low growl from the depths of his throat. Using her tongue to part his lips further, she deepened the kiss and hungrily traced it across his own. As their tongues tangled, she slipped her hands up into his hair and in return, he wound his arms about her waist and pulled her further into his body, gasping audibly as she circled her hips and undulated against him.
"Geez, Lorelai," he panted as he reluctantly broke the kiss and buried his nose in her hair instead.
She didn't stop there. Her hands skimmed back across his jaw, her middle fingers traced down the side of his neck and she angled her mouth towards the soft patch of skin under his ear. Her lips fluttered there delicately for a second and then she nipped at his earlobe playfully. "Is that a better way of saying thanks?" she murmured against his ear; her breath on his neck made his skin tingle.
"It was very, uh, nice –" he rasped as his fingers pressed into her waist. He rested his forehead on hers as he tried to remember how to breathe.
"More than nice." Her lips pressed to his again but she pulled away before he had the chance to reciprocate. One hand trailed down his stomach to rest on his belt buckle. She felt his abs contract and he shuddered as he exhaled. "Take me home, Luke."
His eyebrows shot up towards his hairline and his mouth fell open, disappointment and embarrassment made his heart drop. "Oh, home? I thought…"
"I don't mean to my house," she quickly answered as she tapped on his chin to close his jaw.
"Thank god." He swiftly unlocked the passenger door and helped her climb in, ignoring her fiendish grin and wondering at what point he had lost the upper hand. But if he was being really honest with himself, when it came to Lorelai Gilmore, it was never his in the first place. In those jeans, with those eyes, that grin, and those kisses, she would win any damn hand at the table.
The drive home was silent, not through awkwardness or bashfulness, but with wanton expectation of what was yet to come. His hand came to rest on her knee and she turned his palm over to draw light circles on it with her thumb. They could see each other's grins out of the corners of their eyes.
In no time at all, Luke pulled up outside the diner. He moved with graceful fluidity and it seemed all one movement as he shut the engine off, climbed out the driver's seat and made it round to the passenger side to open the door.
"Such a gentleman," she teased as she reached for his hand and slid out of her seat.
"Don't get used to it," he growled as he pulled her to him and wrapped his arms around her waist once more. He kissed her hungrily, desperately, and groaned deeply when he felt her hands splay across his back. His desire to feel her mirror the action on his bare skin was the only reason he mustered the strength to pull away and break the kiss. "Let's go upstairs – the townies can get a floor show another night."
She giggled as he pulled gently on her wrists and lead her towards the diner, finding his keys quickly and unlocking the door with knack and precision. No lights were on but Luke picked his way between the tables with ease, holding one hand behind his back so he could guide Lorelai to the curtained partition, pulling her round to the front of him when they reached the foot of the stairs to his apartment.
"Once we go up there, Lorelai, there's no going back."
"Why? Are you planning on murdering me? Will you grind my corpse up to make your famous burger patties? Is that what makes them taste so good? Is that the reason why we've never seen Rachel or Nicole since you broke up? Because they're both burger meat?"
He pressed his lips firmly to hers to silence any more rambling. "You know what I mean," he murmured as he pulled away. "We won't be able to just go back to me being the diner guy and you being the annoying coffee junkie."
She could have taken offence to the junkie comment, but his clenched jaw and the deep furrow between his brows told her that now was not the time to mess with him. Eight years, she reminded herself. He's waited eight years. Taking both his hands in hers, she stepped backwards and up onto the first step. "I'm all in, Luke."
She didn't need to say anything else.
Once they were in the confines of his apartment, Luke wasted no time in enveloping her in his arms. One circled her waist and the other reached all the way round her shoulders; he tilted her back slightly so he had full access to pepper kisses along her collar bone, neck and jaw. Lorelai grabbed two handfuls of his shirt to keep her grounded as her head spun. Her whole body tingled as each kiss hit just the right spot each time. He brought his lips back to her mouth and she ardently reciprocated, moaning fervently when his silky tongue tangled with hers once more. She had never been kissed like this before. She could feel his desire, not just in the granite of his crotch as she arched into him, but each time his lips met hers, it was fire and hunger and need.
Bringing her upright and taking half a step back to disengage the kissing, Luke moved both his hands to the hem of her sweater, hesitating for just a second before Lorelai nodded her consent at him. His fingers skimmed up her side body, delicately brushing her ribs as she raised her arms so he could lift it up and over her head. Casting the sweater aside, he gazed reverently at her as he drank in the sight of her in her white satin bra and the way it cradled the creamy mounds of her breasts. Under the heat of his stare, Lorelai blushed: he looked at her the way she imagined a man would look upon water after being lost in desert.
"Your turn," she whispered, reaching out to grab his shirt again.
"In a minute," his voice was ragged and his chest heaved as he splayed his fingers across each side of her rib cage and placed hot, wet, open mouthed kisses on her cleavage. With an expert flick of his wrist, he unfastened the clasp of the bra and slowly dragged the straps down her arms before discarding it in the same place he'd tossed her sweater. He rolled one nipple between his thumb and forefinger and laved at the other with his tongue. Lorelai swore loudly and she could tell he was smiling against her flesh. He switched his mouth the other nipple to give it the same sensual treatment and he delighted in the sharp sting of her nails as they dug into his shoulder blades.
"Luke," she gasped as she arched further into his mouth, desire pooling between her legs. Her fingers furiously searched for the buttons on his shirt, opening three before having to grip his biceps for support as she felt his tongue drag down between the valley of her breasts and back up again. "I need to feel your skin against mine, please," she pleaded breathlessly, cupping his face in the palm of her hands and lifting him away from her chest.
Luke had never been able to refuse her anything so he made light work of removing his own shirt, exalting in the way her palms quickly pressed flat against his chest, his stomach, his hips. An animalistic growl ripped from his throat when she dragged her nails from his lower back all the way up to his shoulder blades. From the day she had pushed up against his front in Sookie's kitchen in a bid to distract Shel, Lorelai should have known he'd have a physique as solid as marble. She delighted in the rippling of his muscles as they responded to her touch. He gathered her in his arms; the curl of their bodies was like two perfect circles entwined. He reached one arm down and swept her legs out from underneath her and sweetly brought his mouth to hers.
"You are beautiful," he whispered as he carried her across the apartment and set her down on his bed. Pressing one knee in between hers and placing his hands either side of her head, his eyes swept up and down her body. "I never thought in my wildest dreams that we would get here."
"I'm sorry I kept you waiting for so long." She deftly unfastened his belt buckle and his chest heaved against hers. "I've been an idiot." She carefully unzipped his fly and she saw his jaw clench. "But we're here now and that's all that matters." She slipped one hand in the waistband of his boxers and felt him twitch against the tips of her fingers. "I promise it will be worth it."
Luke threw his head back and gave a guttural moan as her fingers circled his shaft and stroked him in his boxers. "Off, off," he growled, signalling for her to remove her own jeans as he stood away from the bed to remove his shoes and socks, and pushed his pants and boxers down to his ankles.
She giggled at the speed of his undressing, but her amusement quickly gave way to yearning when she eyed his fully naked form. He stood with his fists clenched by his side, his broad shoulders squared and chin raised proudly. Layers of denim and plaid meant that he'd been keeping this secret carefully underwraps. He was Adonis. Apollo. And he was hers to devour.
Forgetting about her own jeans, she sat up and quickly pulled him to her: his erection in perfect line with her mouth. She looked him square in the eye as she squeezed his damn fine ass with both hands and ran her tongue along the steely length of him; he tasted like fabric softener, soap and sheer masculinity. She saw his eyes roll into the back of his head and the flash of teeth as he bit his bottom lip. He thought his knees would buckle as her lips enclosed around his swollen tip so he had to curl one hand through her hair to keep himself steady. She took him in her hot mouth inch by perfect inch, revelling in the way he felt like silk against her tongue. She held him for a moment at the back of her throat, enjoying the way he had started to pant and curse, and then slowly sucked her way back to the tip, swirling her tongue and tasting the saltiness of his arousal.
She was just about to make her way back down his shaft when he stepped away from her. "I've not waited eight years just to come in your mouth," he rasped, pulling her to her feet by her wrists. "I want to fuck you, Lorelai Gilmore."
Before Lorelai had even the chance to react, his mouth was on her neck and he'd hooked his fingers over the waistbands of both her jeans and panties and pulled them down to her knees in one swift tug. His mouth moved lower to press kisses between the valley of her breasts and over her stomach as he dropped to his knees. She steadied herself by curling her fingers into his shoulders as she lifted one foot and then the other till she was out of her shoes and her jeans pooled at her ankles allowing her to step out of them. Luke remained on his knees, exhaling softly and slowly and each breath whispered against the downy curls between her thighs. His eyes locked with hers and she could have sworn they were black with desire as he flattened his tongue against her sex and s-l-o-w-l-y licked her soft pink folds. She threw her head back and moaned loudly, indecently, till a blush rose in her cheeks.
Seeing her unbridled joy, Luke made an internal vow that one night soon he would worship, on his knees, at the altar of Lorelai Gilmore to pay homage to the sweet, sweet taste of her arousal and not stop licking her, tasting her, devouring her until she could see stars. But tonight was not that night, not now he was aware of how wet and inviting she was. His throbbing erection just wouldn't allow it. Instead, he rocked back on his heels, drew up to his full height, and pulled her to him. She felt so soft, warm and supple against the hard plains of his chest and abdomen. Together, they sank down onto the bed again, with Luke settling back between her knees with his hands either side of her face. She ran one foot up his calf, thigh, and then wrapped her slender leg around his waist, drawing the tip of his penis to her soaked entrance. She lifted her head so her lips were millimeters away from his and whispered, "I want you in me, Luke….all in."
Her words were his undoing and he thrust into her, gasping into her open mouth as he did so. They lay locked together for a moment, enjoying the way they effortlessly fit, and then Luke started to move, withdrawing to the tip and then sheathing his full length in her once more. She lifted her hips and met his every thrust, their bodies perfectly angled so each drive forwards rubbed her clit. Her hands urged him on, scratching down his back to tighten on his ass cheeks and encourage him to go deeper, harder, faster. The friction, coupled with Luke's rhythmic pounding, the tip of his cock hitting that tangle of nerves on the inside of her walls at just the right angle, ignited the fireworks of ecstasy in the pit of her stomach. First, her breathing quickened to short, sharp pants, then her legs clamped even tighter around his waist, next she dug her nails into his hamstrings, till finally, fireworks exploded behind her eyelids and she was shaking and calling out his name to whatever deity was residing above their heads. Her orgasm rolled in waves of molten gold down her body to the tips of her toes. She had never, ever had release from penetrative sex before, had never, ever experienced pleasure so intense.
Watching her climax, knowing that he was the one who had made her come undone, and feeling her walls tighten and contract as she came back down from the heavens, was enough to drive Luke over the edge. He pressed his lips to her neck and murmured her name over and over again as he emptied himself inside her. When his body came to rest on hers, he was trembling. They lay tangled together, satiated and spent, their heavy breathing was the only sound to fill the apartment. Lorelai pressed soft kisses to his forehead as he traced her ribcage with his fingertips. When Luke rolled away a few minutes later, Lorelai couldn't help the groan of disappointment at the loss of his heat. He was only away from her for a second before he was on his back and draping one arm across her shoulders, he pulled her into his chest.
"I can't believe you kept that horoscope," she whispered as her finger tips trailed up and down the forearm of his free arm.
He looked at her through heavy lidded eyes and smiled. "You're just lucky I never clean out my wallet."
She narrowed her gaze in admonishment. "You can't take it back now – you've exposed yourself. You've been pining for me."
He laughed a deep, throaty laugh. "I have not been pining for you."
Luke knew this was only half true. It was cheesy as hell, but for the first time in his life, he truly understood why people preached about how good things came to those who waited. And as he looked upon the naked form of Lorelai Gilmore, basking in the silvery rays of moonlight that were creeping through his blinds, he knew he would never want anything else as good, as great, as her.