Fringe Benefits
April 2001
His boots rumbled down the steps. Once he hit the bottom Luke burst into the store room at nearly hurricane force. He cast about wild eyed, looking for something, anything to keep himself occupied. He spotted the box cutter in the table and lunged for it. He attacked a box holding cans of stewed tomatoes viciously, slicing through the packing tape that proved to be no match for the anger and confusion bubbling up inside of him. They were up there, talking and comparing notes. They were up there rifling through his drawers and strutting their stuff in their baseball cap fashion show.
Luke dropped the box cutter onto the table and sank down on top of a stack of boxes, burying his face in his hands. He pushed his hat up and let his nails rake over the faint mark his hat made in his forehead. They were up there, Lorelai and Rachel. Rachel and Lorelai. They were up there talking about him. There would be Luke talk. He squeezed his eyes shut as his fingers pulled at the stubble covered skin of his cheeks. Lorelai was up there, pretending she'd never been there before, acting like she hadn't rolled around in my bed, as if her hands were never pressed against my window and my dick was never inside of her.
It was too much. It was bad enough to see them talking, to know that they went out to that old inn together, to know exactly how each of them felt beneath him, to have heard them both whispering his name. It was too much to know that there were two women sitting in his apartment at that moment, those two women. Two women. And that was two women too many for one guy who just isn't enough for either of them, he decided was the hell of it. He wanted them both. He cared about them both. He'd had them both, and Luke knew without a shadow of a doubt that he'd never be able to hold onto just one of them.
Rachel. He'd never been enough for Rachel. He'd never leave this town. He loved this town, despite the madness that swirled around him. He'd never wanted to be anywhere else. To his mind, being somewhere else would make him someone else. That was the problem. He was okay with himself as he was, and Rachel would never be okay with that. Rachel was all about expanding her horizons. She wanted to see and do and go. He simply just wanted to just be.
His dreams were much smaller than hers. A steady business, maybe someday a house and a family, perhaps a kid who might want to take over his diner. Luke rubbed his hands together absently, feeling that odd stab of guilt in his gut as he looked around the store room, seeing shelves lines with tools and boxes of bolts instead of jars of pickles and mustard. He knew now what his dad had built. He couldn't see it when he was younger. All he could see then were the stray nuts and bolts and bins filled with six penny nails. He didn't know then how all those pieces fit together to make something stronger.
He shook his head slightly, knowing that there was a damn good chance that any kid he could possibly have might well hate the restaurant business. He smiled, telling himself that it would serve him right if the brat filled the place with paint cans and hammers. Luke caught himself and shook his head far more violently to dislodge the thoughts of imaginary children. He jumped up, trying in vain to outrun that pipe dream in the confines of a twelve by fifteen room.
Tearing into a box containing bundled packages of napkins, he tried to clear his head as he began to stack them on a shelf. He should have known better. He should have known that for the last couple of years clearing his head meant idle thoughts of Lorelai, and idle thoughts of Lorelai frequently turned into thoughts of Lorelai that were anything but idle.
Lorelai. He wanted to shake her. He wanted to make her see that he knew her far better than she thought he did. Far better than she wanted him to know her. And yet, at the same time, she completely baffled him. She always had. The night he first saw her in the bar, he'd thought he had her number. Now that he knew her better, Luke was at turns stunned by how freakishly right he had been in that snap judgment, and how tragically wrong his perceptions turned out to be. She was an absolute mystery to him. She was also an open book, one that he could read too easily.
He knows now that he was far too screwed up the first time he'd met her to have done anything about her even if he had run into her again. He had too much going on in his head, and not enough of a heart left after Rachel's departure. He had too much changing around him; the hardware store morphing into a diner, his childhood home sold to a family with a child, and an empty single bed in a dusty converted office. Lorelai would have certainly made his head explode, he knew that now.
Then, Rachel came back, and like a fool, he'd let himself believe again. When Lorelai had popped up in his diner years later, he was still so blindsided by the latest note Rachel had left on his kitchen table that he'd hardly even seen her. He wouldn't let himself see her. Oh, but he heard her. Try as he might, he couldn't help but hear her. He heard every word of that incessant chatter, the effusion of meaningless drivel that spilled from her mouth like water cascading over Niagara Falls, and the challenging lilt in her voice when she called him Duke. She made him crazy.
Lorelai was insidious; like a vine that one cut back, broke off, or yanked out at the roots over and over again, only to find that it still flourished. She wound her way into his diner, she crept her way into his life, she wrapped her arms and legs around him in his bed; holding him tightly, so tightly that sometimes he had to fight to breathe. Luke stared blindly at the crooked stacks of bundled napkins, telling his lungs to expand as he took air in and then forcing himself to expel each breath, as if testing to be sure all systems were still operational. Satisfied that they were, he reached up and straightened the stacks, aligning them on the shelf with his usual precision.
He looked down at the empty cardboard box on the table and sighed heavily as he congratulated himself for accomplishing that little bit. He tossed the box aside to be broken down later, and planted his hands on his hips, staring down at the piles of boxes stacked around the scarred old table.
"Luke?" Caesar called.
"Yeah," he barked, startled from his thoughts.
"The drawer's stuck again," Caesar told him, peeking around the edge of the door.
Luke nodded once and skirted the boxes, following Caesar back up to the front. Without a word, Luke picked up a knife as he made his way along the counter. He slipped it into the space above the cash drawer on the ancient cash register, and expertly jimmied it open. Shooing Caesar back to the kitchen, he made change for Ed, exchanged a few grunted insults about the Yankees' chances that year, and then let his eyes travel around the empty diner as the bells signaled Ed's departure.
They stopped at the same spot they always found. That table. That chair with the slightly bent leg. If he numbered his tables, he knew he'd make that table number one. He squeezed his eyes shut, trying to block the image of Lorelai stretched across that table; drunk, partially naked, and panting his name. He turned away, trying to dismiss the words she'd said as easily as she had. But he hadn't been able to laugh off the drunken ramblings of a woman who had fallen victim to Miss Patty's Founders Day punch. He couldn't dismiss them. He didn't want to forget them. He firmly believed that there had to be at least a kernel of truth to them. If only he could make Lorelai believe that too.
August 1999
Lorelai stumbled through the diner door wearing a dowdy dress with a high neckline and long sleeves. Luke looked up from his mop and smirked when he saw the ridiculous cotton bonnet perched crookedly over her dark curls.
"What the hell are you supposed to be?" he asked her by way of greeting.
"Suzy Quaker," she answered, flashing a flirty smile over her shoulder as she pushed the door closed behind her and turned the lock. She took a step toward him and then jerked back with a gasp, whirling around to find that she had shut part of her skirt in the door. A giggle bubbled up, and within seconds the empty diner was filled with their mingled laughter. He watched as she unlocked the door, gathering the skirt of that hideous dress against her legs before closing the door and locking it again. Lorelai grinned as she moved from the door to the windows, pulling each set of blinds closed as she made her way closer to him.
"I don't have any coffee made. Besides, I don't think Quakers drink coffee," he said as he watched her warily.
She stumbled against a table and giggled again as she caught the upturned chair that threatened to fall. "I'm not sure about the coffee thing, but let me tell you, Quakers love that punch Patty makes," she told him.
"You're plowed."
"Not yet, but I want to be," she answered with a saucy grin.
Luke groaned at her distasteful double entendre and plunged the mop back into the bucket. "You're messing up my floor," he muttered.
Lorelai flashed a predatory smile as she closed the distance between them. "That's not all I want to mess up."
"Drunk," he snorted.
"Crank," she retorted as she reached for a fistful of flannel and tried to pull him toward her. Luke's feet remained planted, and she stumbled into his chest, laughing as she pressed her nose to his shoulder and inhaled deeply. "Miss me?" she asked softly as she looked up at him.
"Hey," he answered, his voice softening as his body automatically began to harden.
Lorelai smiled as she pressed a soft kiss to the skin just below his jaw. "You have. You have missed me," she whispered, her voice slow and slurred.
"Been a while," he commented, trying to keep his voice neutral even as his hands skimmed up her back, holding her steady.
Lorelai nodded. "Who sends their kid to bible camp for two whole months?"
"Mrs. Kim," Luke answered, tipping his head back as her mouth worked against his neck.
"Damn her," Lorelai muttered.
"I think that point is to not be damned."
"Yeah, but how is mommy supposed to get any if baby is always home," she asked as she stretched up to nip at his earlobe.
"The eternal question."
"I missed you, Duke," she whispered, her breath hot and moist against his ear.
"Where's Rory?" he asked, his voice cracking like a teenager's.
"Mrs. Kim took her into protective custody. Apparently good Quakers don't jump up on tables and do a little boot scootin' boogie when the DJ plays The Devil Went Down to Georgia," she told him.
"Probably not."
Lorelai pulled back and looked up at him, her eyes glassy and bright. "I missed you, Duke, did you miss me?" she asked again as she lifted the baseball cap from his head.
"Come upstairs," he said, loosening his hold on her waist.
Lorelai shook her head slowly and reached for his hands. Pulling him with her, she stepped back until she bumped into a table, and then raised his hands to her breasts, covering them with her own as his eyes flickered from her breasts to her face. "Touch me now. Touch me here."
"But…" he began to protest.
Lorelai cut him off by pressing her mouth to his, kissing him ardently, if not a bit sloppily, as her fingers closed over his, urging him to squeeze her through the thin fabric of her dress. Luke groaned as her lips parted, the tip of her tongue teasing his lower lip until he pressed forward, claiming it with his own. His thumbs teased her nipples through the stiff cotton as she slipped her hands up under his flannel, tugging at the t-shirt tucked tightly into his jeans.
"I want you, I want you," she panted as his lips sought her neck.
Luke groaned again, pressing into her until she bowed back under the onslaught. Lorelai abandoned her quest for skin momentarily, flailing her hands behind her back until she felt one of the legs on a chair turned over onto the table. She gave it a shove, sending it sailing off of the table top and crashing into the next table.
His head jerked up. "Lorelai," he growled in warning. Lorelai met his gaze boldly and then reached out; giving the other chairs a shove until they too toppled to the floor in a tangle of metal legs. "You came in here to trash my place? I thought Quakers were non-violent," he said archly.
Lorelai reached for the button at her throat and quickly opened it, her fingers skimming down to the next and then the next as his eyes followed. "I'm not a very good Quaker," she admitted.
"I find that hard to believe."
"I wore the ugly dress because Rory insisted. Stupid Taylor, doesn't he know when he comes up with these things that some people are going to actually do the research?"
Luke smiled as she freed another three buttons, finally reaching the curve of her breasts. "Only Rory," he murmured affectionately.
"I know. I just had to get Encyclopedia Brown for a kid," Lorelai said, unable to smother her indulgent smile.
"I like the hat," he said as he jerked his chin at her bonnet.
Lorelai's eyes widened as her hands flew to her head. Her expression melted into one of pure horror as she yanked the bonnet from her hair. Luke bathed her in the warmth of his delighted smile as he gently took it from her hand and placed it back on her head.
"Leave it on," he said gruffly.
Lorelai returned his smile and shook her head disapprovingly. "Kinky," she chided softly.
Luke pulled the wide ribbons that were supposed to tie beneath her chin over her shoulders and then smoothed them over her breasts. His fingers picked up where hers had left off, nimbly opening another tiny button before he bent down and pressed his open mouth to the swell of one breast.
"Let's go upstairs," he said his voice muffled against her breast.
"I'm such a bad Quaker that I may have forgotten to wear my panties," she confessed as her fingers raked through his hair.
Groaning again, Luke's hand grappled with the voluminous skirt of her dress as he desperately sought the hem. His hand closed over her bare knee, and as it began to move up over her thigh, Lorelai wriggled back onto the table, spreading her legs apart for him to move between them.
"I missed you, Luke," she whispered as she rolled back, offering her body up to him. Her fingers fumbled with the buttons once more, and she drew her leg up to his hip, pressing her foot against his ass as his hand covered her bare sex. She moaned softly as his fingertips tangled in her curls. "Did you miss me? Even a little?"
Luke leaned down over her, parting her folds with his finger as his mouth closed over her lace clad nipple. He drew the beaded tip into his mouth, his fingers moving over her teasingly as the lace rasped against his tongue. "Missed you a lot," he confessed as he pressed one finger into her heat, gazing down at her intently.
Lorelai caught her bottom lip between her teeth for a moment, her hips circling as he thrust his finger deeper and deeper. "I don't know what it is," she panted, staring up at the ceiling as he pushed into her. "You make me… ohhh," she moaned.
"I make you what?" he asked breathlessly, his lips hovering near hers as he lowered his weight onto his elbow.
"Kiss me," she pled softly.
Luke obliged, his lips caressing hers tenderly before he drew back and stared into her eyes. He withdrew his hand for a moment and then pressed two fingers into her wet heat. "I make you what?" he asked again.
"Want," she groaned.
"Want. Want what, Lorelai?" he asked in a low mesmerizing voice.
"You. I want you."
"You want me to do what?" he murmured as he dipped his head, his tongue teasing the soft valley between her breasts.
He waited, his fingers sliding slowly in and out of her as he waited. His teeth scraped dangerously over the lace that covered one soft mound, and he waited patiently for her answer. He expected a flurry of dirty words, one of her sexy, desperate pleas for him to fuck her that always made his knees weaken.
Instead, Lorelai breathed, "Love me."
Luke blinked in surprise, his hand stilling for a moment as his lips clung to her skin. He felt her stiffen beneath him, and pressed his mouth to her more firmly, suddenly unwilling to let her escape her words.
"Make love to me," she stammered, trying to correct her blunder. "Fuck me, Luke," she ordered, grasping his head and pulling him up to her. She kissed him hard and hot, as if her tongue were trying desperately trying to erase her slip up. When she broke the kiss, she reached for the waistband of his jeans, spewing enough filth to smother any tender sentiment that may still linger in the air. "Fuck me," she panted. "I want you to fuck me hard. I want your big cock so deep inside me."
"Lorelai," he groaned as she fumbled with his zipper.
"Now, now," she whispered as she reached into his briefs, wrapping her fingers around his hot flesh. "I want to suck you, squeeze you tight ass while you fuck my mouth, but I can't wait. I need you to fuck me now," she said as she stroked his length.
Luke pushed back, standing unsteadily between her legs and ignoring the twinge of hurt that made his stomach clench as he pushed his jeans and shorts down over his hips. He wrapped his finger around her legs and pulled her to the edge of the table, before pushing her skirt up over her stomach. Lorelai wrapped both legs around him, pulling him closer as she pressed into the table and lifted her hips. "Fuck me, fuck me," she whispered, her eyes focused on the dancing pork chop sign over his shoulder.
Anger bubbled up inside of him as he bit back a smart assed comment about fucking the pork chop instead. He positioned himself at her entrance and pushed into her a little, and then held, waiting for her to meet his eyes. When she didn't, he grasped her hips and thrust into her in one rough stroke. Lorelai gasped in surprise, but he ignored her, plunging into her with slow deliberate strokes, determined to give her what she asked for.
"This what you want?" he growled, gritting his teeth against the lure of the wet velvet surrounding him. "You just wanna get fucked, right?"
"Luke," she whispered desperately, her glassy eyes focused on the ceiling above their heads.
He slid one hand under her ass and leaned over her, bracing his hand on the table. "A nice hard fuck," he grunted, emphasizing each word with an angry thrust of his hips.
Lorelai whimpered softly and then gave a sharp cry as he thrust again. Luke stared down at her, watching as her jaw tightened, smoothing away the grimace of discomfort that had creased her forehead. He stilled as the pool of anger that had surged in his stomach was washed away by an overwhelming wave of remorse. He pulled his hand out from under her and fell onto his elbows, pressing his lips to the slim column of her throat.
"I'm sorry, I'm sorry," he murmured his apologies into her fragrant skin.
"Shh," she whispered nonsensically, her hand smoothing over his hair as he held himself in check, pulsing deep inside of her.
Luke shook his head, knowing he didn't deserve her comfort. "I don't want to hurt you," he told her as his lips slid over her skin, kissing away the tension in her jaw.
"I'm fine," she quickly reassured him.
"I don't want this. I don't want this," he mumbled, covering her in soft, sweet kisses.
"Oh," she gasped softly.
When she began to wriggle beneath him, obviously trying to escape his grasp, he realized what he had said. "No, no," he said, pressing her back onto the table as his mouth covered hers. He kissed her gently, coaxing her response as each kiss grew deeper and deeper, moving slowly inside of her until she began to meet each stroke. Finally, he pulled back and looked down into her drowsy blue eyes. "I want you. I want to love you," he confessed hoarsely.
"Luke," she sighed, lifting her lips to his once more.
He kissed her and kept kissing her as he fell into her over and over again. Her legs tightened around him as her hands coursed over his back, pulling him closer with every kiss, every sigh, and every thrust. He felt her walls closing around him, squeezing his breath from his lungs as his lips clung to hers. "Lorelai," he groaned into her mouth as he felt her break. Wave after wave of ripping pleasure pulled him deeper and deeper until he feared he'd drown in her heat. He spilled into her, sinking into her embrace and pressing his cheek to hers as he struggled for air.
"I'm sorry I hurt you," he whispered, his voice rough and ragged and his breath hot against her ear.
"You didn't," she answered.
"I did," he said grimly as he pulled back to look down at her. "I don't want to hurt you."
"I know you don't," she told him, caressing his scruffy cheek gently.
Luke leaned into her hand, closing his eyes as he steeled himself against the certain knowledge that she held far more than his cheek in her hand, and in the end, he would be the one who got hurt.
April 2001
She sought him out. He knew she would. She always did.
From the very beginning, Lorelai was the one who came to him. From the time she stepped out of that bathroom until this very day, he had never once gone looking for her. He wouldn't let himself. He couldn't let himself. There was no point. She always found him. Not that he was hiding from her. He just wasn't willing to put himself out there just to be shot down.
She sought him out that long ago night when she asked him to finish what they'd started. He didn't fool himself into thinking it could be anything more than that one time. He didn't allow himself to entertain the hope. At least, not for more than a minute or two. He told himself that he would have been a fool not to take what he could get that night, and he'd never been a fool for anyone but one woman.
He'd needed it. He'd needed her. He'd needed someone who couldn't break his heart. Someone he could use to bury the hurt Rachel had left behind. Someone who could ease the ache that gnawed at him. What he didn't anticipate was pulse quickening desire that hummed through his veins whenever she was near. He told himself that he just needed someone, anyone who wasn't Rachel. As it turned out, that someone was a caffeine crazed nut job with a sharp tongue in her motor mouth and a wicked smile that warmed him down to his toes. What he never counted on was the somewhat bizarre and apparently badly needed friendship that had sprung up out of that need.
Lorelai Gilmore made him crazy, that was a fact. If it wasn't her need to talk constantly, it was her perverse need to prod him and annoy him, and her incessant desire to stuff herself with artery clogging grease that made his brain ping. The mind boggling coffee consumption was another matter altogether. But still, the more he got to know her, the more he admired her. Not just because she was beautiful. He's known beautiful women. Rachel was beautiful, just a different kind of beautiful. But there was something vibrant about Lorelai. Yes, she had a smile could light a room and a body that could make a man weep with frustration, but she was also smart and strong and confident. The more he got to know her, the more time he spent talking to Rory; the more he appreciated who she was underneath all of the trappings that made his mouth water whenever she walked through the door.
He found her truly amazing. As far as he was concerned, her relationship with her daughter was fascinating. And when he was alone in his bed staring at the ceiling and wishing for sleep to come, it was her face that he saw. In the weeks and months since that night she walked into his diner and then fell into his bed, he'd pictured her countless times. And just as he had in the months following their encounter in the bar, Luke Danes comforted himself with memories. He pictured her perched on top of him, her smile brilliant, her dark hair tousled and wild, her breasts bouncing against his palms as she threw her head back and rode him with abandon. He screwed his eyes shut and remembered the sight of his cock disappearing into her as he grunted to a pale completion, and the rolled over all alone in his bed, just as he had been after she left that night.
He told himself that it was enough. He'd almost convinced himself that the friendship that they had developed was enough and that the memories of that night were enough to hold him until something that could be real came along. And then she'd lured him into her home not once, but twice, trying to entice him into her arms and her bed. He'd resisted the first time; throwing up his defenses, his ego bruised by what he perceived to be her need to feed her own. The second time she spelled it out a little more carefully for him. Was saying yes to her position the smartest thing he'd ever done? Probably not, but it certainly was far from the worst he could do.
She sought him out, giving her body over to him so openly that only a fool would walk away from her, and he was no fool. Luke was well aware that for a guy his age, he hadn't chalked up the numbers some other guys had. Not that he was a prude, but simply that he was choosy. Quality over quantity and all that. Plus, he figured that given the amount of time he had spent in a fairly serious relationship, he was probably more experienced than most guys who had been through a dozen more women.
He liked sex. He liked sex a lot. And being with Lorelai was a revelation. For once, he was the one with the upper hand. For all of her teasing and torment, when the door closed behind them, he was the one with the experience to back him up. Of course, Lorelai's innate sensuality made her a quick study. She was unselfconscious and uninhibited, voicing her pleasure loudly and stating any displeasure she encountered firmly. But the constraints of parenthood compounded with their desire to keep their arrangement quiet meant that they met with frustrating infrequency. But after a year, he had finally managed to shake the nagging self-doubt that told him that each time would be the last time. The more they were together; the more confident he felt that she would seek him out again. After all, she always did.
And now, instead of leaving with her precious cup of coffee, she hovered in the doorway watching as he unpacked jar after jar of pickles and babbling about fascinating acts of storage. Luke tried to ignore her, hoping that after a few terse answers she's give up and go away. He should have known that Lorelai would never do what he expected her to do.
"You don't like me hanging out with Rachel do you?" she asked bluntly.
Luke rolled his eyes and muttered, "Oh, come on."
Lorelai took another step into the room. "Am I right?"
"You can hang out with anybody you want."
"Not my question."
"Well that's my answer."
"Well, we're eight," she retorted as she curling her coffee cup protectively to her chest.
Luke looked up and said, "Just a friendly piece of advice. Don't get too attached to her."
"Rachel?"
Luke nodded and continued to unpack boxes as he said, "Yeah. She's got an interesting habit of getting bored and then leaving. Usually without saying goodbye."
"People break habits," she pointed out.
"Not often."
"So, you're just convinced that that's what she's gonna do?"
Luke looked her dead in the eye and said, "I'll bet you that's exactly what she does."
That seemed to give her a moment of pause, but the moment was all too brief for his liking. "Well, let's say that is what she does, don't you think there's the teensiest possibility that if Rachel leaves Stars Hollow this time it's because she thinks you don't want her to stay?"
Luke stopped unpacking and glared at her. "Are you guys talking about me?"
"No," Lorelai answered too quickly. "Yes."
"Okay, I don't mind if you hang out with her, but you will not talk about me."
"Why? It's fun. We wear plaid, take turns not shaving," she teased.
"There will be no Luke talk period."
As he tore into the next box Lorelai asked, "Do you wanna know what I think about this situation?"
"No," Luke said shortly.
"Are you sure?"
Luke sighed and shook his head, knowing he would soon regret this conversation. "Look, if you're gonna tell me at least help me unload."
Lorelai grinned as she set her coffee aside. "Can I use the fun cutter thingy?"
"Not if you call it the fun cutter thingy."
"Please?"
"Cut the box, not your hand," Luke instructed as he handed over the box cutter.
Lorelai smirked as she said, "Good tip, you should teach." She plunged the blade into the cardboard and sliced it open easily. "Ha! Fun!"
"Talk," Luke ordered.
Lorelai shrugged. "Well, I don't know exactly what's going on in Rachel's head because I'm not a Vulcan, but from the way she talks about you and the way she smiles when your name comes up, I'm pretty sure that she's serious about staying in Stars Hollow this time," she said quickly, ignoring the now familiar twinge in her stomach.
"Yeah, let me guess. Rachel told you she wanted to put down roots, that she's serious this time, that she's tired of the road, and realizes what's lacking in her nomadic existence," he said sarcastically.
"She didn't use the phrase nomadic existence, but basically yes, that's what she said."
"I've heard the speech. I know the speech by heart," Luke told her pointedly.
"Well, I think she means it this time."
"You don't know her like I do," Luke said firmly.
"I don't," Lorelai admitted. "But she seems sincere."
Luke looked at her quizzically and asked, "How do you know?"
"Her nose didn't grow," Lorelai said impatiently.
Luke bristled. "Why are you taking her side?"
"I'm not taking her side!"
"Well it sounds like you're taking her side!"
"Well, wash out your ears, I'm not taking her side," Lorelai said as she held up her hands defensively.
"I mean you're practically pushing her on me," Luke said angrily.
"I just want you to be happy," Lorelai said helplessly.
"And you know what makes me happy?" he challenged.
"No, I just know that you've been carrying a torch for her for a really long time."
Luke snorted. "I have not been carrying a torch for her."
"Well, you wanted this to happen," she replied impatiently.
"How do you know what I wanted to happen?"
"Didn't you?" Lorelai asked bluntly.
Luke sighed, shaking his head in a vain attempt to clear it. "Yeah, I guess," he admitted at last.
Lorelai nodded, the corners of her mouth drawing down as his admission cut right through her. "Okay, so here it is, right in front of you. Just take it. Take the plunge. She could be ready. Just jump in and believe her," she said softly. When Luke turned away, refusing to look at her, she added, "Unless, you know, there's some other reason you don't want to."
"Like what?" he asked as he turned back to look her dead in the eye.
Lorelai took an unconscious step back and shook her head, denying the pain in her chest even as she tried to force the words from her mouth. "Like I. . . .I don't know," she said quietly.
Luke watched her carefully, noting every inch of the distance she had put between them and piling that on top of her wheedling pleas for him to open himself up to someone else. Someone who was not her. "There's no other reason," he concluded at last.
Nodding slowly, she backed up another step. "Okay, well, fine. Then there's no other reason."
"I'll think about it," he hedged, waiting to see if she'd change her mind.
"Okay." Lorelai placed the box cutter on a nearby shelf as she continued moving toward the door. "Well, thanks for letting me borrow your thingy."
Their eyes met, and their lips twitched, but neither of them had the heart to call out the 'dirty' that hovered in the air between them. "You're welcome," he said gruffly.
"I'll see you later, Luke," she murmured, and then she was gone.
November 1999
"Hey," Lorelai said as she hurried into the diner, shivering in an old tan trench coat she had liberated from the inn's lost and found.
"Hi," he answered, frowning at the too big overcoat cinched tightly at her waist. "You out flashing people or is there a hot scoop you need to call into the city desk?"
Lorelai glanced down at the coat that trailed almost to her ankles and then grinned as she looked back up at him. "Flashing," she answered without missing a beat.
"As long as you're entertained," he said dryly as he lifted a chair onto a table.
Lorelai smirked as she picked up the chair with the bent leg and placed it on the table they had desecrated a few months before. She nodded to the chair leg and murmured, "Collateral damage."
"Vandalism."
"A happy accident."
"All a matter of perspective," he told her.
"You were happy too," she reminded him.
Luke pressed his lips together, biting back the questions that flooded his brain. "What are you up to?" he asked instead.
"Pawned my daughter off on an unsuspecting antiques dealer, so I thought I'd come by to wish you a happy birthday."
"My birthday was Wednesday. I seem to recall singing that wouldn't stop until I produced blueberry muffins," he said pointedly.
"Yes, well, that was your birthday proper," Lorelai said as she continued to help him clear the diner floor. "I'm here to celebrate improperly."
"I see," he replied. "And if I had other plans?"
Lorelai stopped, clutching a chair with both hands as she held it up to her chest like a shield. "Do you?" she asked, the possibility clearly having never occurred to her.
Luke shrugged and then shook his head. "No."
Lorelai blinked and then quickly turned away, flipping the chair over and sliding it onto the table. "Well, good, because otherwise you would have missed your birthday present."
"You gave me gloves," he reminded her.
"Well, those were Rory's idea. This was mine."
"You knitted them. Rory told me."
"Rat," Lorelai muttered under her breath. "Yeah, well, you were complaining all the time, and frankly fingerless gloves aren't so easy to find now that those crazy Wham dancers have woken up and are gone gone."
"I like them," he said gruffly.
"Good." Lorelai lifted the last chair up and placed it on the table. "You're gonna like your other present even better," she promised as she turned slowly toward him.
"I am?" Luke held his ground, once again waiting until she came to him, as he knew she would.
"Oh yeah," Lorelai purred as she crossed the room, swaying her hips provocatively as she placed one high heeled pump in front of the other. She stopped just in front of him, glancing over his shoulder to be sure the blinds were closed before she splayed her hands over his chest. Her eyes dropped to his mouth and then slowly met his gaze. "Upstairs?" she asked, her voice warm and thick as honey.
Luke's eyebrows rose. "Sure," he answered, following behind her docilely as she walked toward the curtain.
Once he closed the apartment door behind them, her hands were on him again, smoothing appreciatively over his shoulders as she tipped her head up to kiss him sweetly. "Happy birthday, Luke," she whispered as he slowly opened his eyes.
"Thanks."
"Wanna see what I got you?" she asked, her warm breath playing over his lips.
The tip of Luke's tongue darted from his mouth to wet them. "Sure."
"Untie my belt."
His hands closed over the knot and he ducked his head as one long finger slipped under the fabric of the belt, slowly working it free. Lorelai pulled his hat from his head, her breath stirring the soft curls behind his ear as he pulled the ends of the belt loose and the sides of the coat hung limply on her willowy frame. Taking a small step back, he opened the coat, his expression neutral as he saw the slinky scrap of royal blue lace that molded to her curves.
Lorelai frowned in puzzlement, and when Luke looked up he caught a flicker of doubt in her blue eyes. "You don't like it?" she asked challengingly, tipping her chin up a bit.
Luke chuckled, favoring her with a boyish grin as he shook his head. "Are you kidding? I was hoping there would be something like this under this stupid coat," he said as he pushed the voluminous trench from her shoulders.
"Yeah?" she asked, her eyes lighting. Lorelai's smile faded into a frown almost as quickly as it appeared. "What do you mean you were hoping?"
"Well, you don't usually dress like Colombo, so I figured you might have something going on under there," he answered with a shrug.
Lorelai scowled. "I hate being predictable."
Luke laughed and pulled her up against his chest, holding her firmly with one hand splayed over her back. "Lorelai, you are lots of things, but predictable really isn't one of them."
And then her smile was back. She ducked her head to his neck, pressing a soft kiss to the tender skin just behind his ear. "Thank you."
"The truth," he answered gruffly. Luke slipped one finger under the thin strap on her freckled shoulder. "This really for me?"
"You see anyone else here?"
"I mean, this is for me, I get to do what I want with it?"
Lorelai pulled back and looked up at him. "Why? You wanna wear it?"
Luke rolled his eyes. "I get to do what I want with you?" he clarified.
"Anything you want," she answered in a sultry voice.
Luke kissed her tenderly. His hands framed her face as he angled his head, taking the kiss a little deeper. When Lorelai parted her lips, he grunted his displeasure and coaxed them shut, continuing to focus only on her lips. He drew her bottom lip between his, sucking at it gently before pecking at the corners of her mouth and then capturing her upper lip. He covered her mouth with his, tracing the seam with the tip of his tongue and giving her tacit permission to part them again.
Lorelai moaned as his tongue circled hers, his hands gliding over her lace covered body, and she fingertips teasing her bare legs. He drew her tongue into his mouth, sucking it gently, and then releasing it just to start the delicious torment all over again.
"God, why do you have to be such a good kisser," she muttered as he stooped to conquer her neck.
"Sorry," he mumbled.
"You should be."
Luke looked up with a rakish grin and asked, "Wanna spank me?"
Lorelai smiled back. "I should. You need birthday spankings."
Luke shook his head and said, "My birthday, my present, no spanking."
"Spoilsport."
"Never been offered birthday sex before," he commented as he steered her toward the bed.
"No?" Lorelai asked, her surprise evident.
"I mean, not like this," he stammered as his cool went flying right out of the window.
"Like what?"
"You know, not, uh, you know, just sex," he answered uncomfortably.
"Is that bad?"
Luke blinked as he pulled back a little further. "I don't know, is it?"
"I don't think so," she said slowly, sounding uncertain. "I mean, it's not just sex. We are friends." His brow knit tightly as he rolled her justification around in his head, hoping to find that it fit. "Right?" Lorelai prodded.
Luke crammed that feeble explanation down on top of his doubts when he found the edges overlapping a bit too much. "Right," he said firmly.
"I mean, obviously we care about each other, right?"
"Definitely."
"I want you to be happy, you want me to be happy," she continued.
"Uh huh."
"This is just a bonus. A little extra benefit to being friends," she decided with a nod. "A fringe benefit, if you will," Lorelai added, gesturing to the blue lace teddy that barely covered her.
"No fringe, though."
"Next year I'll dress up as Annie Oakley for you," she promised as she pulled him down and kissed him heatedly.
Luke smiled when she let him go, and stooped down, sweeping her legs out from under her. He laughed when she yelped, and stalked across the room to his bed, where he placed her gently atop the covers. "Next year, you carry me," he told her sternly.
"Well, you know, anything you can do I can do better," she said, grinning up at him as she raised one knee, digging the heel of her shiny black pump into the comforter.
"I don't doubt that," he said as he lifted her leg and slipped the shoe from her foot. "Nice touch," he added as he tossed the shoe aside and reached for her other foot.
"Thank you," she said, laughing as he dropped the other shoe to the floor.
Luke pulled his shirts up over his head, shifting from foot to foot as he yanked the hem of his t-shirt from his jeans. His eyes narrowed as she trailed her fingertips between her breasts and spreading them over her flat stomach. He unbuckled his belt and dropped down onto the edge of the bed to unlace his boots. "Keep going," he said gruffly, watching her out of the corner of his eye.
The moment he stripped off his socks, Luke stood up again his eyes following her hands as she traced the curve of her waist, letting her nails scrape over the lace until they brushed the sides of her breasts. When she cupped her breasts, pressing them together and pushing them up over the cups of the teddy, he shoved his pants down and stepped out of them.
"I'm lonely," she said coyly.
Luke stretched out over her, planting one knee on either side of her leg as he leaned down and kissed her passionately. Lorelai clutched at his biceps, moaning appreciatively as he lowered himself onto her, his muscles tensing and flexing in her hands. He shifted, bracing himself on his elbows and cradling her head in his hands as he kissed her over and over again. He groaned, pressing into her body, feeling the rough lace against his erection as his tongue circled hers keeping time with their undulating bodies.
Lorelai moaned her disappointment as he pushed back, but it quickly turned into a moan of pleasure as his lips, teeth and tongue claimed her throat. He traced her collarbone with his tongue, lapping gently at the sweet hollow in the center before kissing his way down her chest. Her breasts filled his palms, her hardened nipples pressing against his hands.
The need to have her was almost unbearable. But this time, it wasn't simply the need for release. He wanted her. He needed her. She was no longer balm for his aching ego and broken heart. She was no longer a lovely convenience to be used to scratch an itch. She spoke his name and his ego swelled to almost epic proportions. She kissed him sweetly and his heart began to pound so hard he feared it would burst from his chest. Her hands caressed his skin, leaving behind a tingling trail he knew no amount of scratching could ever satisfy. He was falling for her, and there wasn't a damn thing he could do about it. He was falling for her, and he knew that he was doomed to failure. But here, now, with her breath hitching in her chest, and her pulse throbbing in her throat; he knew he had her, if only for a little while.
He kissed his way down her slender arm, smiling as he licked the tender skin inside of her elbow and she giggled in response. He pressed his lips to her wrist, feeling her pulse strum softly against them and then nuzzled the palm of her hand, looking up at her as he placed a tender kiss to the very center. He heard her soft gasp as her fingers closed over his cheek, and that was all he needed.
Despite her whispered protests, he took his own sweet time. He licked and kissed and nipped his way back up her arm, and moved purposefully to her other arm, showering that able appendage with the same homage. He kissed the freckles on her chest, his tongue dipping under the lace edge of her teddy to tease the tops of her breasts, as his thumbs both soothed and tormented her taut nipples.
He drew the lace covered tip of one into his mouth and she moaned loudly, her fingers curling into his hair as she held him there. Luke pulled the thin strap from her shoulder, letting it dangle loosely against her arm as he pulled the fabric down, exposing one pink tipped breast. He feasted on her, suckling hard enough to make her bow up off of the bed and then laving the aching bud with his tongue until she sank down again. He repeated his assault on her senses, his hands gliding over the lace stretched tight over her stomach. His fingers teased the edge of lace that rode high on her hips, sliding down with maddeningly delicate strokes until they brushed over her mound. Lorelai whimpered softly as he sucked her nipple into his mouth again and covered her sex with his hand.
Luke closed his eyes, savoring the sweet taste of her skin on his tongue as he held his hand still, knowing she would seek him out for the friction she so desperately needed. He wasn't wrong. Lorelai pushed into his hand, undulating against his fingers wantonly as he moved to claim her other breast. He suckled her through the lace, knowing that the rasp of the material against her sensitive folds and the thin barrier between her and his mouth would drive them both wild. He exerted the tiniest amount of pressure with his fingertips, helping her find what she craved. He groaned against her as he felt her wet heat seeping through the fabric. His fingers itched to open the snaps that would give him access to her, but he resisted, letting the rough fabric torment them both to the point of madness.
Lorelai cried out, pressing against his hand and startling him with the realization of how close she must be. Luke had to force himself not to slip his fingers under the elastic and press them into her. Instead, he contented himself with her bared breast, suckling deeply and then teasing her hardened nipple with his teeth. He bit down gently, and Lorelai gasped, bucking wildly into his hand as she came. Luke raised his head, staring up at her as she panted and moaned, riding out each wave of pleasure, her face soft and a satisfied smile curving her lips.
He pulled his hand away from the damp lace and then pushed back to rest on his heels, still focused intently on her face and waiting patiently for her to meet his eyes. When she did, he simply smiled and asked, "Good?"
Lorelai hummed and stretched languidly, raising her arms up over her head and lifting her breasts. "And here I thought this was your birthday present," she purred.
"Oh, it is," he assured her. Luke moved to kneel between her legs, letting his long fingers trail over her slim thighs, and then closing his hands over them tightly and pushing her legs further apart. "I love watching you," he said husky voiced.
His fingers teased the elastic at her legs, slipping under it and sliding slowly down until his hands met at the snaps that held the fabric together. He looked up at her, meeting her slumberous blue eyes before favoring her with a wicked smile and yanking hard on the lace. The snaps gave way, and Lorelai's shocked gasp turned into a throaty laugh.
Luke bent down, pressing his face to her folds and inhaling deeply. The scent of her arousal surrounded him, the heat of her climax left her soaking wet, and when he brushed his tongue over her clit Lorelai jerked and shuddered. Her hand flew to his head, holding him there as she pushed against his mouth shamelessly. Luke didn't hesitate. He drove her up again, his lips, teeth and tongue working against her sensitive flesh feverishly as he slid two fingers into her. He set a greedy pace, lapping at her hungrily as his fingers thrust into her, driven by her tiny moans and breathless whispers. He pressed his erection against the mattress, his hips pumping mindlessly as she climaxed again. Luke pulled his fingers from her, thrusting his tongue into her heat as if he wanted to drown in her. Her tremors began to subside, and he pressed his lips to her thigh as he tried to catch his breath.
"Luke," Lorelai called to him, her hands curling over his shoulders as she gave a weak tug. Luke shook his head slightly, pressing his lips into her skin and resolutely keeping his distance. "Come here."
"You don't know," he said in a rough voice. "You don't know what you do to me."
"I know what you do to me," she whispered, brushing his softly curling hair back over his ear. "You make me feel…"
When she trailed off, he looked up. "How? How do I make you feel?"
Lorelai pressed her lips together, and he could see her sifting through that immense vocabulary of hers, searching out the right words. Luke knew before she opened her mouth that they would be safe words, compliments with little meaning that sounded like more than they were. He pushed up and crawled back over her, his eyes fixed on her face as he shook his head, telling her that she didn't need to answer. He kissed her gently, letting her taste herself on his lips and wondering if she had any idea at all of how much she affected him.
"You're beautiful," he whispered as their lips parted.
"Luke."
"Smart and funny, talented and… incredible," he told her.
"Oh," she breathed, her eyes widening at the sincerity in his voice.
"You're incredible," he said again, kissing her tenderly as he pressed against her entrance.
Lorelai wrapped her long legs around him, knowing just how he liked to be held without really knowing it. "You make me feel incredible," she answered truthfully.
Luke smiled, accepting her words at face value. "You make me feel like I'm fifteen," he told her, attempting to lighten the mood in hopes of winning a smile from her.
"Fifteen?"
His lips curled into a sardonic smile. "Another couple of minutes and I might have, uh, you know, all over the bed," he admitted in a low, gruff whisper. Lorelai laughed, her smile brilliant as she ran her hands over his back. Luke basked in the light of it, ducking his head and kissing her as he entered her.
"You're so dirty," she whispered as their lips parted.
"Just tellin' you the truth."
"Really?"
Luke rolled his eyes. "No, I'm lying about that."
Lorelai smiled again as he slid deep into her and hummed, "Mmm, I'm so glad you didn't."
Luke chuckled breathlessly. "Me too." He lowered himself onto her, pressing his face into her hair as he held himself still, feeling his pulse echoing from deep inside of her. He kissed her ear and whispered, "There's nothing like being inside you." Lorelai sighed softly and he nuzzled her jaw. "So soft and wet and hot," he breathed into her ear.
"Luke," his name was a soft moan on her lips.
"I wanna stay here. Your arms and legs wrapped around me. You wrapped around me."
"Please," she whispered.
"Please what?" Luke held his breath, wondering if he would hear the words he wanted to hear.
"Move. Please move," she answered at last.
He pressed his lips together tightly and then nodded, pushing up slightly to gain better leverage. As he began to slide slowly in and out of her, he asked, "Like this?"
Lorelai wouldn't meet his eyes. Instead, she looked up at the ceiling, her fingers digging into his back as she whispered, "Faster."
Luke shook his head. "I want slow. You said anything I want."
He braced his arms on either side of her head, circling his hips as he sank into her again and again. Biting his lip, he stared down at her, knowing she knew he was watching her, and wondering how long she would avoid his eyes. He wouldn't ask her to look at him; he knew she would sooner or later. His mouth turned down in a grim scowl at the thought. He thrust steadily, building momentum with each stroke, knowing she'd break and her eyes would seek him out.
Thankfully, it was sooner rather than later. She blinked slowly and then turned her head a fraction of an inch, her normally bright blue eyes clouded and hazy with desire and doubt as she gazed up at him. Luke ached to ease that doubt. He paused for a moment, reaching up to grasp one of her hands and pulling it back down to the pillow with his. Lacing his fingers through hers, he held her hand tightly, pressing it into the pillow as he pinned her there with his eyes and began to move faster.
Her lips parted as if to speak, but nothing came out. There were no words, no moans, and no tiny little sighs of pleasure. He kissed her softly, his breath ragged against her lips as he pulled back, his eyes assuring her that she hadn't been wrong to look at him. Her hips rose and fell, meeting each stroke of his cock. Her legs slid smooth and silky over the skin of his back and buttocks. One hand clung to his back as the other clenched around his, her nails biting into the back of his hand as her body tensed around him. There was no sound, no words, no whispered names; real or pet. Only the ragged edges of their breathing filled the room as she clamped him deep inside of her. She closed her eyes, and Luke felt suddenly bereft, wanting to shout out with frustration rather than exultation as he spilled into her.
Their bodies slowed and her fingers grew lax in his. Luke collapsed onto her, pinning her to the bed, afraid she'd slip away too quickly. "Stay," he whispered raggedly, hating the aching weakness in his own voice.
"What?"
"Will you stay tonight?" he asked, beyond caring about how girly his question sounded to his own ears.
Lorelai didn't answer for a moment, clearly weighing her options. "I can stay for a while," she whispered.
Luke nodded and rolled onto his side. He pulled her over onto him, running his fingers through her tangled hair, and hating himself for being willing to take what he could get.
April 2001
Yes, there were two women in my apartment, but only one of those women actually wants me, he told himself sternly.
Never before had a shelf filled with economy sized jugs of ketchup undergone such scrutiny. Luke shook his head to clear it, and then stepped over the empty cardboard cartons strewn across the storeroom floor in his haste to escape. He stalked through the deserted diner and jerked the door open, ignoring the jingle of the bells as he let it slam behind him. He stopped on the top step, crossing his arms over his chest as he dragged in a lungful of fresh air. His eyes scanned the square, watching as people scurried from point A to point B, each of them seemingly knowing exactly where they were going and what they were doing.
Luke blew out a frustrated breath and turned his head to check out the flow of traffic into the other businesses nearby. His jaw tensed as he spotted Lorelai and Rory standing in front of the bookstore, their heads bent toward each other as they perused the sign on the sidewalk. Rory laughed at something Lorelai said, and then checked her watch as they moved away, chattering on as if they hadn't a care in the world.
Luke spun on his heel and turned back into the safety of his diner. Caesar poked his head out of the kitchen as Luke pushed through the curtain and jogged up the stairs. Rachel was sitting at the table as he burst through the door. Her head jerked up as he pulled to an abrupt stop, still somewhat stunned to find her here in his space.
"Hey," he said breathlessly.
"Hi," she said as she lowered the proof sheets and magnifying glass she held to the table.
"I was just gonna," he said as he pointed toward his bed.
"Gonna?" she prompted in a puzzled tone as he crossed the room.
Luke jerked the top drawer of his dresser open, and scooped an armload of socks and underwear out of it. He dropped the pile onto the bed, and then retrieved the last few stragglers from the drawer, adding them to the pile. Then, he moved purposefully back to the kitchen, knowing Rachel's eyes were following him as he yanked open the junk drawer and pulled out a Doose's Market key ring with two keys attached.
He walked over to the table, ignoring her stunned expression as he bent down and kissed her firmly and decisively on the lips. Luke placed the keys in her hand and closed her fingers around them tightly as he said, "I'll move that stuff into another drawer later."
"Okay," she said slowly as she stood up, looking down at the keys in her hand.
"The bigger one is for the diner door," he explained.
"Got it," she answered as she lifted her eyes to his.
Luke pulled her closer, and kissed her again, this time his lips were soft and gentle, coaxing her response. Rachel kissed him back, seemingly melting against him as felt her shoulders droop with relief.
Pushing down that familiar pang of self-loathing, Luke felt the fight drain out of him. He knew that he had to choose, and really, the choice was already made for him. He could banish them both from his life, or he could simply take what he could get and hope that for once he would be enough.
Brushing a stray red-gold curl back from her cheek and asked softly, "Wanna go to a movie tonight?"
tbc