Prequel to "We Did What?!"
Lorelai was exhausted. She'd arrived home from her parent's house about twenty minutes ago and had just finished changing into her pajamas. The flannel bottoms and cotton top were soft and warm and reassuring. Another Friday night dinner had sucked the life out of her.
As she slowly descended the stairs, Lorelai absently pressed her fingers into the hard not of muscles in her neck. The tightness refused to loosen up, though, and she trudged toward the kitchen feeling drained and used up.
As she did every Friday night, Emily Gilmore had made it clear that she disapproved of every aspect of her daughter's life. This was no surprise, but her mother had been in particularly rare form this evening. Even Rory hadn't been able to distract her from the twin tirades entitled, "Not Married Yet" and "Throwing Your Life Away on that Ridiculous Inn." Pulling open the refrigerator door, Lorelai bent at the waist and tried to see if there was any actual food inside. She'd been too depressed to stop at Luke's on her way home and now she was kicking herself.
Acknowledging the empty innards of her appliance, Lorelai slammed the door in frustration and dragged herself back to the living room. As she moved into the room, the telephone rang.
"Hello," she answered despondently.
"Lorelai, hey," came the raspy voice back at her.
"Luke, hi, what's up?"
"I…um…listen, can I come over?" His voice sounded distant, distracted and upset.
Lorelai tilted her head and gazed at the ceiling. "Yeah, of course," she said with a small frown. "Is everything okay?"
"Yes and no," he sighed into the phone.
"Elaborate," she demanded quietly.
"Yes because the divorce papers came back today and I'm officially single again and no because the divorce papers came back today and I'm officially single again." Lorelai heard the rustle of the phone shifting from one side to the other and she immediately felt guilty for feeling sad about her own crap. If anyone deserved sympathy it was Luke.
"Ah, Luke, I'm so sorry," she whispered.
"It's for the best, you know? I'm fine for the most part, I just can't sit in this apartment alone. Not tonight."
"Then, definitely come over. And bring food with you. We can wallow together."
"Why, what's wrong with you?"
"It's Friday night," she reminded him.
"Right," he acknowledged. "Dumb question."
Lorelai smiled against the phone and said, "Hurry up, okay?"
"I'm on my way," he assured her thickly before hanging up.
Lorelai gently rested the phone back into its cradle and looked around. Frowning she quickly began to straighten up a little. Magazines go in the magazine rack, remote goes on the coffee table, and dishes from last night's dinner go in the kitchen.
From the very, very back recesses of her brain came the question, Why are you cleaning up for Luke?
Mentally, Lorelai gave a shrug. I don't know, she replied as she lit a candle.
He's single again, came the voice.
So? she answered.
So, it said. He's available.
Your point, Lorelai demanded.
No point, it came back. I was just remembering your reaction to his announcement that he'd married her.
Shut up, Lorelai ordered.
You felt betrayed. Like he'd cheated on you or something. You came home and we had a long talk about it. Don't you remember? It was the day you officially gave up on that teeny, tiny hope that one day you'd get yourself together and go after him.
"Shut up!" Lorelai whispered. Shaking herself, she gave a small laugh and said, "Jesus, no more talking to myself."
As she re-entered the living room, Lorelai heard the knock on the door. Hastening toward it, she plastered a broad smile on her face, repeated the mantra, "just friends" to herself and swung the door open. "I thought you'd never get here," she told him.
"I left as soon as we hung up."
Something fluttered in her stomach as she took him in. His faded jeans, flannel shirt, dark t-shirt beneath and backwards baseball hat all looked the same. His face showed something different though. It looked tired and a little sad and defeated. "You brought food?" she asked him.
Luke held up his right hand, which held a "Luke's" bag. "Of course."
"Come on in, then."
She moved out of the way and he crossed her threshold. Moving through the living room, Luke headed for the kitchen and Lorelai suddenly felt the fluttery feeling turn into the old fire. She'd been pressing down on it for the last nine months or more, since the cruise ship wedding. Now, though, the fire was back and she felt it flare in her belly. Stop, she told herself. It would never work. And it would especially never work if things happened this soon.
Moving to follow him, she rested a hand on her stomach to calm the butterflies as she entered the kitchen. She watched him pull plates down from the cupboard and heap them with burgers and fries. He knew his way around her kitchen as well as he knew his way around his own. The fire in her midsection grew a little stronger and she pressed her hand harder in an effort to make it stop.
"Here," he said holding the two plates out to her. Luke took in the hand on her stomach and frowned. "Are you feeling okay?"
"Yeah," she said, too brightly. "Just hungry."
"Well, take these and I'll pour this."
Lorelai's eyes flew to the two bottles of wine on her counter. She watched as he pulled down two glasses and filled them each with the deep burgundy liquid.
"What's that?" she asked hesitantly.
"Liz left these here the last time she was in town," Luke explained absentmindedly. "She got 'em from someone on the circuit. They're supposed to be really good."
"Great," Lorelai replied. She watched him take the two glasses in one hand and the bottle in the other and turn to face her.
"The living room?" he said. "Unless you wanna eat in here?"
"Right," she stumbled. "The living room." Lorelai turned and made her way to the couch where she deposited the plates on the coffee table and sat down. Luke was right behind her.
He handed her a glass, sat down on the other end and then lifted his hand. "To being single," he said firmly.
Lorelai smiled and lifted her glass to meet his. "The being single," she repeated before clinking her glass with his. She watched as Luke took a generous sip of his wine. She followed suit and lifted her brows in appreciation. It really was good.
As they ate, both Luke and Lorelai enjoyed the quiet silence. Lorelai put a Billie Holiday cd on and the quiet strains of jazz filled the air. The mood was slow, moody and mellow. By the time Lorelai had finished her burger and Luke his garden burger they'd killed the first bottle and were halfway through the second.
"So," Lorelai said as Luke topped off her glass and filled his own again. She reclined against the arm of the couch and brought her legs up to meet his. Her head was filled with a slow buzzing noise and she felt very comfortable and at ease. Luke was lying against the arm on his side with his legs under hers. She noted thoughtfully that it was fairly difficult to keep her feet from resting in the area where his legs met. Frowning, she wriggled downward a little so that they moved to his belly button. Lorelai placed her hand back at her stomach as she felt the wine mix with fire from earlier.
"So," he answered, tucking his feet under her bottom. He took another sip of wine as his free hand grasped his hat and threw it on the floor before settling on one of the sock-covered feet that rested on his stomach. Taking it in hand, he gently squeezed and rubbed his thumb into the arch. He was definitely feeling better. Who said alcohol was bad for you? This was the best he'd felt all year - since the cruise, really. He was rid of Nicole and in her place was Lorelai. Wait, in her place? That's not right. He tried to clear his cloudy brain. Lorelai is not my wife. Not. My. Wife. And probably never will be. Wait, probably? Whatever was there, if there had been anything there, had died when he'd married Nicole.
If friends was all he would ever be able to get from the relationship, it was his own fault and he'd have to live with it. Closing his eyes to ward off the pain, he squeezed her foot again and was jolted from his thoughts when he heard soft little moan from the other side of the couch.
Hazily, Luke opened his eyes and focused on the pair currently drilling holes into his own. "What are you doing to me?" she asked sounding a little frustrated. She was mortified that she'd allowed that sound to escape. He needed to stop touching her or she would be in very real trouble.
"Nothing," he assured her before he gave another, experimental squeeze. With her hand pressed to her stomach to calm the heat flooding in, she stiffened and pulled her foot away.
"Liar," she accused as she drained her glass and set it on the floor.
"I'm not lying," he told her with a liquid voice as he went for her other foot. The heat in her stomach cascaded lower and she closed her eyes and felt his marvelous fingers dig into her tired muscles.
"Mmm," Lorelai sighed as if giving in. "Luke," she whispered and opened her eyes again.
"What?"
"Nothing," she said as her eyes again bore into his. Luke finished his glass and then carefully placed it on the coffee table. The wine had effectively erased any and all hesitation. With both hands free he tugged her leg toward him so that he could continue with the impromptu massage. With one foot in each hand, he kneaded the muscles beneath her clothing and watched as she closed her eyes in response. He watched her mouth open just a bit to take in some air. His own mouth drifted open a little in response and he instinctively wet his lips.
The heat in Lorelai's belly had definitely moved lower and she let the alcohol make the decisions as she languidly arched her back as her hands slowly pressed downward. Luke followed the movement, rapt with desire and felt himself respond. When her hands passed her belly button, Lorelai's eyes suddenly flew open. It was as if reality had finally seeped into her alcohol-drenched brain. She had been about to touch herself. In front of Luke!
Panting from the shock, hands and arms now crossed tightly across her chest and eyes locked onto his, Lorelai waited. What must he think of her? Jesus, how could she have let it go this far?
Slowly, Luke gently glided his hands up her feet to her ankles and squeezed. Slowly and with deliberate ease, he inched up her calves. Holding her stare, he saw her respond to his tender assault. Her eyes drooped and she seemed to forget for the moment that she'd almost completely given in to the longing.
His long fingers eased toward her knees as he lifted himself up and reached forward. Still holding her eyes, Luke passed her knees and allowed each hand to wander up the outside of each thigh. Again, her breathing hitched and her eyes closed as her mouth opened and she allowed a soft moan to escape.
Luke's jeans were painfully tight at this point, but he didn't care. Shifting so that he could move his legs out from underneath her bottom, he swung them around and kneeled, effectively forcing her to open her legs. When she opened her eyes again, Luke was kneeling between her legs with one hand on each hip. She instinctively arched her back again and closed her eyes. Her tight nipples pressed against her thin pajama top and he had to force himself to ignore them.
"Jesus," she gasped hotly, wanting only to give in to the torrent of heat now flooding through her insides.
With maddening deliberation, Luke's hands moved from her hips, skimmed her waist and ribcage, brushed the outsides of her breasts, eliciting another low moan, and allowed his knuckles to gently glide against her cheekbones. Balancing himself on the arm of the couch, he hovered just above her, nestled tightly between her thighs, hard man pressed against soft woman, and waited. After a second she impatiently opened her eyes and grabbed his flannel shirt in her two fists. "What are you waiting for?" she demanded.
He smiled and felt the rush of victory. She'd given in.
Without answering he began to slowly lower his mouth to hers but she was having none of it. Using the shirt still clenched in her fists, she pulled him down to meet her mouth and hitched her knees tightly around his waist. Rocking her pelvis into his, she arched her back again.
Luke responded to Lorelai's mouth with vigor and ground himself into her.
Their mouths were merging in a liquid fusion that made her brain want to melt.
"Lorelai," he whispered urgently.
"Yes," she replied reveling in the feel of his body pressed against hers. "Yes," she repeated, wanting nothing but this man. Forever.