FIC: From Once to Ever (Luke/Noah, ATWT) - 1/2

[freakykat]

Title: From Once to Ever
Series: Part Three of Three
Author: freakykat
Beta: wouldbedorothy
Rating: G - R
Summary: Third set of 10 drabbles. Sometimes leaving is the way back.
Spoilers: Future fic. AU from Ameera storyline on.
Disclaimer: I don't own them, sadly. They belong to P&G, ATWT, Goutman, JP and their respective actors.
A/N: Note: This is in response to a meme I saw floating around. The gist of it was: put your iTunes on shuffle, and write a drabble based on each of the first ten songs that play. Don’t linger when the song is over, this is an exercise. I wrote my ten drabbles in a cohesive vien. I've been working on this final part for several months, lol. Figured I could start posting it whilst I finish up NaNo. Feedback would be lovely and appreciated but not required.

I do recommend reading the other two sets first so it makes more sense. :)

Part One: From If to When
Part Two: From There to Here



From Once To Ever…


Tell me I’m the only one and then I might never be the lonely one.
(Hold Me Tight - Evan Rachel Wood)


1.

His forehead leaned on the flexing back muscles, resting there, breathing through his nose, tightness gripping his cock. When he slid out, Noah’s moans trembled from his toes up to his scalp, tingling and bursting veins of pleasure. Pushing all the way in, feeling the accompanying rush of godfuckyes, and he dug fingers into hips. Noah’s breathing harsh, wheezing, and he stopped, almost pulling out.

Hand grasped his thigh, squeezing. “Don’t. Just…stay.”

“I don’t want to hurt you.”

“Then, don’t stop.”

He pushed in, deeper, slowly.

“More.”

Luke skimmed hands over hips, one reaching around and under, grasping Noah’s hard length, tugging in time with his thrusts. Noah leaned back, sweaty skin clinging to his own and when he rested a hand over Noah’s chest - where the heart that belonged to him still resided - Luke bit back a sob, kissing silky hair and riding out wave after wave.

Salt of Noah’s skin and tears combining on his tongue.


My baby don't care for shows, my baby don't care for clothes. My baby just cares for me.
(My Baby Just Cares For Me - Cyndi Lauper)

2.

Noah stepped back to the bed covered in clothes and shoes and everything someone might need for a new life. Second chance at getting it right. He folded a shirt into the suitcase, suppressing a sigh when Luke’s hand snatched it out.

“Luke.”

“I’m not going.”

Noah ran trembling hand through his hair. This argument had gotten old weeks ago.

“You are.”

Luke threw the shirt across the room. “You’re not even -”

Noah glanced at him, eyes narrowed. “Don’t use me as the excuse, Luke. I have the doctors and your family. “He rubbed at the raised skin on his chest, grimaced just only a little.

“Our family.”

“Right. Being scared won’t be permanent. You’re the bravest person I know. So, go. Kick ass at school.”

Luke glowered. “What if I want to be here?”

“It’s not where you want to be.” Noah saw Luke glance away. “It’s where you think you have to be. That’s different.” He took a seat, looking up at his best friend - the boy he loved even now.

New heart. Old feelings.

It still surprised him.

“I’m going to miss you.”

It was a whisper.

“Same here.”


But I'm in so deep. You know I'm such a fool for you.
(Linger - The Cranberries)

3.

Luke hadn’t believed when he was told that he could be happy. It was hard to think. With everything he wanted so far away.

That turned out to be a blessing.

New York dug inside him. All around - color and ideas and life.

So all that he left behind faded.

If he didn’t see it then he didn’t feel the loss.

The first time he thought that he’d felt sick to his stomach.

When he told Noah about it there was a long silence over the phone. Then the quietest sigh that gripped his heart.

“That’s because you’re starting to believe you can be happy.”

He bit his tongue to keep from yelling across the miles that separated his entire life from its place holding.

“Doubtful.”

He met someone a month later.


Every feelin', every beat , can be so very sweet you gotta taste it.
(Let’s Get Loud - Jennifer Lopez)


4.

When Michael first caught sight of Luke Snyder he’d blinked at the glow that seemed to surround him. Two seconds later, he laughed when he noticed it was the reflection of the sun on his very blond hair. So, that was how he had greeted him, laughing at nothing. Luke had crinkled his eyes in amusement, smiled back and asked for a muffin and café latte.

The day he asked Luke out on a date, he’d paused for some time, then nodded, quick smile, and Michael had breathed a little easier because rejection didn’t kill but it certainly maimed.

Luke was the one to kiss him first, soft and cautious, and Michael squeezed his eyes shut, let the feelings rush out from hair to hands. He tasted something behind the tongue that explored. Something he didn’t want to pinpoint.

Something that kept him from jumping all the way in.

On the night they slept together for the first time, and he let Luke enter him where only one other had been before, he caught this look, one he couldn’t place, cross Luke’s face - eyes glazed over, distance. He’d gripped Luke’s hips and he watched his eyes clear up, smiled when Luke focused on him and pretended he didn’t understand it.

It was good and fun. Even meaningful.

He wondered why he couldn’t let himself enjoy it completely.

They’d been dating for six months when Luke asked him if he wanted to come home with him for Thanksgiving. Michael had no plans. No family that wanted him, so he grinned and said yes. On the drive from New York to Oakdale, Luke talked constantly about his family. What Michael should expect. He said it was overwhelming. Then, he started to laugh as he told the story of the look on Noah’s face at his first Snyder picnic.

Michael didn’t roll his eyes.

Noah.

He was familiar with that name. A little too much. Once, when he’d mentioned to Luke that no one talked so much about an ex, Luke had glared at him, then turned away to look back at the television.

He hadn’t spoken to him for a week.

Michael knew that Noah came with the territory. That he wasn’t just Luke’s ex. He was part of the family. He was part of home. So, he was part of Luke’s life….

Michael hated Noah Mayer a little.

When they rolled the car up the driveway, Michael’s mouth dropped open at the crowds and crowds of people. Luke laughed, rubbed his arm and told him to breathe. He left the car slowly, watching the crowd gathered around Luke, the hugs and greetings and kisses.

His skin jumped with the need to run away. He wasn’t good with family.

The first time he met Noah, Michael had blinked a few times. The light coming off the blinding smile that greeted them (well, greeted Luke, really) was stunning and definitely had nothing to do with the sun. He attempted to catalogue the exact color of Noah’s eyes, as a painter he should have been able to, but it was impossible. He watched Luke’s face - that same look in his eyes he’d seen once or twice – or a dozen times - before crossing his features.

They hugged tightly for a long time and then Noah’s gaze fell on Michael and that blinding smile was aimed at him. “You must be Michael.” He gripped his hand, hard, squeezing a little. “Don’t worry. They don’t bite, I swear.”

Noah grinned.

Michael returned it.

Dinner was a bustle of chattering voices, trying to out do each other. Food and laughter wasn’t a good combination. There were quite a few almost unpleasant incidents. He watched Noah wipe food off of Luke’s younger brother’s hands, making faces and stupid noises that made him giggle and when Michael glanced at Luke – he caught that expression, more solid than before.

Standing in a corner later, he watched Noah’s steps falter, hand rubbing at his chest. He wondered if it was a tick of his. He’d been doing it during dinner. Luke came up behind him, arm around his shoulder, asking if he wanted any more dessert. He saw the panic flash in Noah’s face, hand drop as if burned from where it had been when he noticed them. He smiled at Luke, pulled him away and asked for a tour. When he glanced back, Noah gave him a grateful smile.

They found themselves alone some hours later, hiding in a quiet corner. Noah
asked about school. About his painting. They discussed favorite movies. The music they liked.

“Thank you.”

Michael paused with the mug of eggnog - early for the season but he wasn’t going to say no to it - halfway to his lips. “For?”

Noah didn’t look at him. Eyes fixed on some point Michael couldn’t see. “He was alone. Now he has you.”

Michael looked at the same spot now. “He loves you.”

Noah smiled softly. “I love him.” Their eyes met. “But I’m not what he needs.”

It was honest and earnest and it broke Michael’s heart. It was true. Right at this moment, it was true.

Something told him that it wouldn’t always be the case.

And in that instance Michael felt the weight he’d carried for so long fall off. He understood. Why he was never able to let it sink in. Why it hadn’t turned into something more. It wasn’t about him. It had never really been. He’d known that.

But now he understood.

Michael thought that he might kind of love Noah Mayer a little.


Higher than I’ve been before and your love, it keeps me alive
(It Feels So Good - Sonique)

5.

Noah was responsible.

He always remembered his doctor’s appointments.

He never took on more than he could.

He set an alarm to remind him to take his morning, afternoon and night anti-rejection medication.

That should have been enough.

It wasn’t.

He clutched the cell to his ear, eyes on the door in case the night nurse decided to make a surprise visit. Not that he would have been able to hang up even if he wanted to.

“So, basically, you pulled a Luke and told him off?” He smiled into the phone, hand clenching and relaxing on his lap.

“Damn right I did.”

Noah’s smile turned into a grin. “Good.”

“Michael says you need to stop encouraging me.”

He let loose a laugh. “He’s one to talk.” Then after a long pause, he said loudly, “Hi, Michael.”

Luke laughed, repeated Noah’s words and he heard a distant, “Hi, Noah!” through the phone line.

It was late.

“Hey. Where are you?”

Noah froze, pretended innocence, fingers tracing nothing on the white cool blankness. “Oakdale, Illinois.”

“Ha-ha, Smartass. No, I called the house earlier for you but Faith said you weren’t home.”

Noah pulled tight on the hospital bed sheet. “Oh. Well, I’m just staying at Jeff’s tonight.”

It was easier each time.

“Ah. Guy’s night out, huh?”

Noah made a non-committal noise and leaned back, head digging into his pillow.

There were some things he could never change.

There were some things he would never say.

“You know us.”

“Yeah, I do.”

Silence stretched and pulsed between miles of love.

“It’s late, especially for you. I’ll talk to you later.”

“Okay. Good night, Noah.”

“Good night, Luke.”

He snapped his phone closed.

There were some things that would always be true.


TBC

Comments

[tsarcasm.livejournal.com]

And I thought I'd be bored on this flight.

SWEET!

[tsarcasm.livejournal.com]

Sorry that took so long. If I told you what I was doing for internet right now you'd laugh your ass off.

But it was wonerdful darling. Simply spectacular!

This one sentence is giving me pangs: "Standing in a corner later, he watched Noah’s steps falter, hand rubbing at his chest."

DAMN YOU EVIL GENIUS!

Hugs and kisses from the land of snow and ice.

[freakykat.livejournal.com]

Thank you, BB!

I'm having a crisis right now with the latest Untouched chapter but I'm muddling through it.

::sigh::

Okay. I'm curious. What are you doing for internets LOL?

Okay. I'm curious. What are you doing for internets LOL?

[tsarcasm.livejournal.com]

So my grandfather's router isn't working and I'm in a fight with the router manufacturer, Linksys--it's a long angry rant, really, and my sister tells me I'm being irrational and is refusing to let me vent (yeah, not helping).

So anyway, I had to pull the ethernet and wireless routers out of the basement ceiling--they dangle nicely, like flashing christmas ornaments--so that I could reach the cord and connect to the ethernet. My brand new, shiny net book is resting on the nearest object--because the cord isn't that long--which just happens to be a belt sander. For two days to be on my computer I had to stand in front of the belt sander in the cold basement on old carboard boxes surrounded by two year old sawdust--how long it's been since my grandfather was allowed to work down here--screwdrivers, carpenter squares, peen hammers, and oh look there's a vise. After losing feeling in my feet I finally pulled over my grandmother's walker--it has a bench in it. So I'm sitting on it with my feet propped up on an old box of lathes. I'm tempted to take one of the drills and put a hole in the ceiling/floor of my room and shove the ethernet cable up it so I can at least be warm even if I have to sit on the fucking floor.

And I'm about to do it because I now have to take an online course to start teaching out here. It's two weeks worth of work and I don't know that I can handle two weeks of sitting down here for hours eveyday. Shoot me.

Re: Okay. I'm curious. What are you doing for internets LOL?

[tsarcasm.livejournal.com]

Hahaha, oh I remember this. I don't think you had the Michael bits up when I read it the last time... maybe. Anyway. Oye internet woes.

I'm having a crisis right now with the latest Untouched chapter but I'm muddling through it.

[tsarcasm.livejournal.com]

YOU CAN DO IT! If you need a sounding board let me know. I'm always here to help--especially if it ends in fic.

[hugs]

[freakykat.livejournal.com]

LOL! Yay!