This simply needed to be written.

It was sparkly and perfect, and no matter what she said she would never find Luke's kisses predictable. Lorelai felt him tighten his arms around her, and she wished she wasn't holding the Zima bottle so she could play with the hair peeking out from beneath his baseball cap. In that moment, Luke was everything to her. She could feel it, a flight of butterflies in her stomach, her own inability to stop smiling even as they kissed.

He ended the kiss gently, and Lorelai could feel his quickened heartbeat. Or was that hers? She was floating on a fluffy cloud of happiness. He'd said yes, and he didn't change his mind. Pleasure buzzed through her veins, having nothing to do with the Zima. They were going to get married. Lorelai Gilmore, married. Lorelai Gilmore, married to her best friend in the world. It was enough to make her lightheaded. She looked up and met his gaze, noting the way his eyes darkened in pleasure. He took the Zima from her hand and set both bottles on the railing of the gazebo.

"So, what else should we do to celebrate?"

Lorelai felt her smile widen. She was about to answer with something dirty when the lights suddenly blinked out again. She opened her mouth to protest to Taylor but before a word escaped her lips they were pressed tightly, fiercely against Luke's. This kiss was different. Hot, filled with longing and need. Lorelai felt her feet leave the ground, literally, as Luke lifted her in his embrace. She kissed him back greedily, the darkness making every movement of his tongue and lips against hers ten times as erotic for it being unseen and unexpected.

She pulled back with a gasp and started placing tiny kisses over his face and neck. "I." Kiss. "Don't." Kiss. "Know." She playfully nipped his bottom lip. "You were the one who suggested the toast. Any other bright ideas?"

Luke grabbed her hips and pulled them tightly against his. Lorelai laughed in the darkness, delighted.

Luke snuggled down into the blankets, his heart still beating an erratic rhythm. And it wasn't from the sex, although that had been amazing too. He watched the slow rise and fall of Lorelai's shoulders as her breathing deepened. They were getting married. Married. Luke Danes, married. Luke Danes married to Lorelai Gilmore. He reached out an unsteady hand and turned off the light. The moonlight coming in through the window outlined Lorelai's body. His eyes cut a reverent path from the back of her neck down over her shoulders, waist and hips. She was right: the bed had never been more comfortable. His brain wouldn't shut down, but nothing racing through it made any sense to his bliss-numbed mind.

He edged closer to Lorelai and snaked a hand over her waist to rest on her stomach. His breaths whispered against the back of her neck. He felt her settle into him and kissed the tender spot below her ear.

"Lorelai?"

"Mm."

Luke swallowed and squeezed her gently. "Lorelai?"

"Hm, yeah?"

"You know I love you, right?"

She shifted and he loosened his grip to let her turn towards him. He couldn't see her eyes clearly in the dark, but she leaned up so that her lips gently grazed his cheek. He could feel her smile.

"I love you too, Luke." Luke released a breath he didn't realize he'd been holding. He knew she loved him, but the entire night had been weird and slightly surreal. He needed that from her. He kissed her softly, letting his lips linger a moment. She pulled back a little. "Sleep now?"

"Yes, sleep now." Luke fell asleep with a smile on his face that mirrored the one his fiancée wore. His fiancée.

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