FIC: Once Lost, Now Found (2/5) -Nuke BigBang 2011-
Title: Once Lost, Now Found
Author: carolinablu85
Artist: x_serenade
Rating: eventual NC-17
Disclaimer: I own less than nothing.
Summary: Based on the prompt: What if Luke had met Reid first?
A/N: Thank you to natashaodwalla for the prompt, to BB mods for running this whole shebang with poise and class and hard work, to x_serenade for her beautiful art!, and to all writers and artists who stuck with BigBang and are participating!
CHAPTER 1 | CHAPTER 2 | CHAPTER 3 | CHAPTER 4 | CHAPTER 5
That saying stuck with Luke for days. His notebook started to fill up more and more, less stranded thoughts and more coherent ideas, narratives starting to come together, dialogue, scenes. He still hid the work from everyone but Noah, but he was writing. And he was surprised at how good it felt.
He managed to slip out of a hospital wing meeting early, knowing that Noah usually got coffee at Java in the afternoon. He’d finished writing up a scene last night that he thought would compliment Noah’s script really well, and he was (surprisingly) eager to show it to him.
Which was totally the reason (the only reason), he was brought up short when he entered Java and saw Noah sitting at a table with another man. Good looking, slightly older, artsy. Insufferable, Luke was sure.
Completely sure.
He came to a stop next to the table, making sure to call out before touching Noah’s shoulder. “Hey, it’s Luke.”
Noah looked up with a giddy smile. “Luke, hey! What are you doing here?”
He stuffed his hands in his pockets, not liking the way the other man’s eyes zeroed in on where he had touched Noah. “Looking for you.” He eyed Mr. Artsy Guy. “But if you’re busy I can come back...” he purposefully trailed off, hoping the opposite.
“No, no it’s fine,” Noah beckoned him to sit down. “We’re almost done. Luke, this is the guy from Oakdale University who wants to produce my film. Mason Jarvis, this is Luke Snyder. He’s a writer too.”
“Really?” The Mason guy looked him up and down with absolutely no enthusiasm, then turned back to Noah. And Luke’s own eyes narrowed at the way Mason looked at Noah. Like he was stranded on a desert island and Noah was the last glass of fresh water. Which, hey, people could look at Noah however they wanted. It wasn’t Luke’s business. But when it was so obvious like that? Just plain annoying.
He inched his chair a little closer to Noah’s, just in case. “Not really,” he answered Mason’s probably-rhetorical question. “I just write for fun. Nothing like what Noah’s doing.”
“Yes really,” Noah insisted. Turning back to Mason, “That change on page thirty-two, that you liked so much? That was Luke’s idea. He’s really good.”
Luke made sure not to blush at the praise, as though he and Noah always talked like this. Just so Mason would know he was Noah’s friend first, and he better stop looking at Noah like... that.
Mason glanced at Luke again, more calculated this time. Like he was sizing up competition. Which was ridiculous, right? Luke was Noah’s friend. Mason was crazy. And way stupid if he thought he was good enough for Noah. “Well then,” Mason’s voice was oily. Reminded him of Damian’s when he was trying to close a business deal. “I guess it’s a good thing we have Luke around.”
Yeah. Luke didn’t like this guy.
He purposefully turned to look at Noah and Noah alone. “Are you free for the rest of the afternoon? I have something new for you.”
“You wrote more?” Noah had no idea Mason was basically eye-fucking him, obviously. “Awesome. I was going to see if someone could take me out to one of our shooting locations today so I could get a feel for it, but I could do that another day.”
Mason opened his mouth and Luke knew, just knew, that he was about to offer to drive Noah out to God knows where and probably, like, try to woo him in a field of meadowflowers or something. So, of course, Luke went with his own impulsive ideas first. “Oh, I can drive you.” He noted with some satisfaction that Mason’s mouth snapped shut.
“Wait, Luke, are you sure?” Noah was still smiling, but his brow furrowed. “It’s gonna take a few hours, don’t you have hospital stuff today?”
He did, actually. There was a cocktail reception scheduled for the evening that he was pretty sure Dr. Hughes wanted him to go to, partly to make sure Reid didn’t insult another donor. But hey, if he was a little late, nobody would really care. Luke was actually very certain of that.
“Nothing important,” he assured. “I want to go with you.” And the grateful look on Noah’s face combined with the disgruntled one on Mason’s had Luke feeling like this was his best idea in a long time.
And that feeling stayed right up until the moment, hours later, that his car decided to break down on the side of a deserted road outside town. In the middle of a storm.
Of course.
He threw himself back into the car with a groan, shaking off the rain in his hair and on his jacket. “We’re completely screwed.”
Noah raised an eyebrow. “That bad?” He reached out searchingly until he found Luke’s sleeve, tugging on it.
“Yeah,” Luke glared at his phone. “I called for a tow, but with the weather? They won’t show up for awhile. The tow truck probably wouldn’t make it through the mud. The incredible backwater aspect of this small town is rearing its ugly head.”
Noah let out a laugh. “That’s some very eloquent bitching you’ve got going on there, Snyder.”
“Shut up,” he blinked when he realized Noah’s tugging had gotten Luke’s soaked jacket off of him and tossed into the backseat, and Noah’s much warmer, drier jacket was now in Luke’s lap. When had that happened? “Thanks,” he added, feeling stupidly shy, pulling it around him.
Noah just shrugged. “What did the engine look like? Fixable?”
“Fuck if I know,” Luke groaned, foul mood coming back. “I suck at mechanical stuff. I don’t know an engine from a carburetor from a magic school bus. I’d probably blow it up before I fixed it.”
“So between me the blind guy and you the blond guy, we’re completely screwed,” Noah supplied good-naturedly.
Luke grumbled just the same, maybe to counter-balance his steadiness. “Yep.” Then he paused, frowning even more. “Wait. How did you even know I’m blond?”
Noah blinked, then started giggling. Full-on, delighted, little-kid giggling. “I didn’t. A wild guess that totally paid off,” he managed to say.
Luke just stared at him, fighting off an involuntary smile. What guy their age giggled? Seriously. He was somewhere between wanting to smack him, or ruffle his hair and buy him ice cream, or-
No. Not going down that road. He glared instead, crossing his arms miserably, forgetting yet again that Noah couldn’t see the gesture. “Laugh it up, Chuckles. We’re stuck on the side of the road, outside town, in the middle of a rainstorm. You know how long it’s going to be to get someone out here?”
Noah’s laughter died down, though his grin didn’t. “So we’ll wait a little while. It’s not the end of the world.”
“It’s annoying,” Luke argued for the sake of arguing.
Noah just shrugged, resting back in his seat a little more. “You always get this worked up over silly stuff?” he teased.
At least, Luke thought it was teasing. Spending so much time with Reid, he was used to taking even the driest of jokes as mostly truth. “You think being stranded is silly?”
Noah tilted his head. “Not really, but it could be worse. At least I’ve got nice company.” And then he smiled again.
And maybe Luke wasn’t as annoyed as he thought he was. “So that’s the location you want to use?” he asked, settling back in his own seat.
Noah nodded. “I think so. It’s out of the way- won’t have much risk of interruption- and, and I don’t know, it felt off the beaten path, you know?”
He smiled. “Yeah. Somewhere that’s only theirs.”
“Exactly,” Noah agreed. “I want a place that’s kind of secret, safe. A... Secret Garden or Wonderland kinda feel, or... I don’t know, give me a literary reference.”
Luke thought hard, his smile widening as it did whenever he got to use that part of his brain. “Shangri-La.”
“Yes!” Noah nodded again. “Perfect. See? That’s why I need you.” He stopped abruptly, smile freezing. Luke was frozen too, for just that second, until Noah shook his head. “That came out kinda forward, didn’t it?” He chuckled self-consciously. “That’s why I’m glad to have you around, I meant to say.”
For once, Luke was somewhat glad Noah couldn’t see. At least his face, because it felt pretty damn red at the moment. “Well, it’s nice to be needed,” he replied lamely.
Noah cleared his throat, leaning back again. “So. What did you think of it?”
“The location?” Luke shook himself out of that sudden, weird tension. “I liked it. It did feel like a secret. And it wasn’t too, um, distracting, if that makes sense. Visually. You could do a lot with it.”
Noah’s face lit up excitedly. “Yeah? Good. I want that. I want it to look... I don’t know, like it smelled.”
“What did it smell like?” he asked curiously, turning to him even more, getting comfy.
Noah bit his lip, thinking it over. Luke kept his eyes away from the gesture. “It smelled like... the air was fresh, you know? Light. Like you were surrounded but not smothered by it. I want it to look like that.” Another shrug, a little more self-conscious. “Or something.”
“I think I get it,” he said softly, surprising himself.
And, judging by the look on Noah’s face, surprising him too. But instead of commenting, Noah just tilted his head to the side. “It stopped raining.”
Luke looked out the windshield, surprised. “Oh. Yeah.” He hadn’t even noticed. “Guess the tow will be here soon then.”
Noah frowned a little suddenly. “How far away are we from town? If you need to go, you can. Walk, I mean. I can wait with the car. It’s no big d-”
“Noah,” Luke half-laughed. “I’m not just gonna leave you here to deal with my car, that wouldn’t be fair.” He was careful not to say anything about Noah not being able to handle it on his own.
“But if you have to be somewhere,” Noah insisted.
Luke was about to shake his head but caught himself. “Hey. It’s fine. There was something I was going to do, but I don’t have to.” A flash of yet another hospital cocktail event, the fake-mingling and club-soda-drinking hell it was, only strengthened his resolve. “I’d rather be here.”
The look on Noah’s face was comically skeptical. “Whatever that thing is must really suck.”
He caught his shrug in time too. “Hanging out with you doesn’t.”
There was a slight blush to Noah’s face at that, and he turned away for a second. Out of instinct, Luke turned his head away too, to give Noah the moment. They were both silent for a few minutes, Luke staring out the windshield again, when Noah spoke up. “Spiderman or Batman?”
Luke’s head swiveled around so fast he was surprised he didn’t hear a creaking sound. “What?”
Noah grinned at him, that big giant goofy one. “Spiderman or Batman? Which do you like better? Or who, I guess.”
“Seriously?” he sputtered. “That’s what you want to talk about?”
Noah chuckled, throaty and delighted. “Why not? You said you like comic books. And I’d bet a month’s rent that you’ve seen the movies. Which do you like better?”
Luke smiled. “Batman, hands down,” he answered. “Better backstory, better villains.”
Noah grinned wider. “And he couldn’t rely on superpowers. And had a badass car.”
“Exactly,” Luke agreed, satisfied. Then he shook his head, letting out a chuckle of his own. “I can’t believe we’re talking about this.”
“Why not?” Noah asked sincerely.
“Be-because it’s childish,” Luke offered, feeling dumb. “Just about stupid stuff.”
“So?” Noah was still smiling, but just a little confused. “Does every conversation have to be some meaningful, deep thing? That would get pretty tiring. Don’t you ever just want to talk about silly stuff and just...” he waved a hand around.
Yes. “I don’t know,” he said. “I can’t be a... I’m not a kid anymore.”
“So?” Noah said again. He smiled, almost gently this time. “Just be you.”
Luke didn’t know how to respond to that out loud. What if I don’t know who I am?
***
“I don’t even hear it from you. Dr. Hughes’s secretary has to inform me that my boyfriend is missing the reception because he's off having fun with another man. Wow. Thanks,” Reid undid his tie, tossing it to the side.
Luke rolled his eyes. “My car broke down. And stop saying ‘with another man’ like we were naked and feeding each other chocolate-covered strawberries in a meadow or something. It’s just Noah. We got stuck in a storm. Jesus.”
“Just Noah?” Reid fixed him with a stare. “You do realize ‘just Noah’ is the person you’ve spent more time with than your own family in the last two weeks?”
“Noah’s my friend,” Luke crossed his arms, defiant. “I’m helping him out with his film, and he’s helping me with my writing. Friends do that.”
“Writing? You’re writing again?” Reid asked. “When did you start that? And why is writing suddenly so much more important than the hospital or your other job? Jobs,” he added, correcting himself.
“Because they’re just jobs. Writing is something different. Something I like.” He shook his head. “Why are we even talking about this? You’re mad because you had to spend a night actually socializing without me to cover for you.”
“I’m mad because my boyfriend is apparently regressing back to his high school self, and using a blind guy to help him do it.”
Luke took a second to breathe deeply, slowly. “That’s what you really think of me?”
They stared at each other for a minute before Reid let out his own breath, shoulders relaxing back a fraction of an inch. “No,” he admitted. “I’m just...” he paused, gathered his thoughts. Which was strange, as he was usually like Luke- just say the first thing that came to mind. “It’s unsettling. I’m used to having you around all the time,” he offered up a smile. “And you’ve been playing elsewhere lately.”
Luke found himself softening too. “It doesn’t change that much,” he reminded Reid, not ready to concede entirely. “I have friends that aren’t you, and I’m going to hang out with them. Noah’s my friend. You have to respect that.”
“I do,” Reid replied. “But... you haven’t known Noah for that long. You can’t know him that well. Just be careful, all right?”
“You think there’s something wrong with him?” Luke half-laughed. “It’s Noah. You've only talked to him, like, one time. Trust me, he’s a Boy Scout.”
“Really?” Reid gave him that poor-you-and-your-not-as-good-as-mine-brain look. A very pointed one this time, for reasons Luke couldn't figure out. “What do you know about him, Luke? Really know about him? You met him like a month ago, and he’s got you roped into working on his film? You sure he’s not just treating you like his own personal seeing-eye boy?”
“Noah’s not like that,” Luke defended.
“How do you know?” Reid pointed out, completely calm, completely reasonable. “What happens when his movie is done? When he doesn’t need you anymore?”
Why did there have to be something wrong with Noah? He was confused and indignant about that, but also too tired to argue. Adults had conflicts and then made up again, and Luke was an adult. “I’m sorry I didn’t make it to the reception.”
Reid frowned for a second, then chuckled. “You’re lucky I didn’t make anyone cry.”
Luke forced a laugh too, stepped in and kissed him lightly. Reid pulled him by the front of his shirt when he tried to lean back. This kiss was more insistent, sharper. Luke welcomed it, ridding himself of the tension between them and the tension that had been following him since the car broke down.
Reid backed up a few steps, still holding onto Luke’s shirt, still hold close to Luke’s mouth. “No reason we can’t hang out now, is there?” he raised an eyebrow.
Luke answered him by kissing him again, following him back into the bedroom.
***
“Would you just stop for a second?!” Luke tried to keep a grip on Noah’s arm, but somehow it kept slipping out of his hands.
“Leave. Me. Alone,” Noah growled. He pulled his apartment keys out of his pocket, and Luke could see his hands, one of the palms scraped up, were shaking.
“No way am I leaving you alone,” Luke wanted to laugh at how stupid that suggestion was. “Your hands are bleeding, probably your knee too. I need to patch it up before-”
“I’ve been patching myself up since I was four, I don’t need you,” Noah’s voice actually got loud. It was crazy. Luke had never heard Noah’s voice go beyond moderately soft-spoken before.
“It’s not about need, it’s about letting other people help,” Luke wasn’t exactly quiet either.
“I know how to take care of myself-”
“No one’s arguing that! You’re just pissed and embarrassed because you fell. It’s not a big deal, there’s no-” he tried to turn his voice soft, placating. Soothing.
“That’s not why I’m pissed, Luke!” Yeah, evidently the soothing wasn’t working.
“Then why?” He followed Noah into the apartment, watching with some amazement still that Noah could navigate it so easily. He trailed after his friend as he dropped his stuff by the door and headed into the living room, where a first-aid kit was stored next to the couch. Luke wondered how often Noah needed one within close reach.
“You!” Noah was still kinda yelling. “You... do you have any idea how you acted back there?”
“I was freaked out!” Luke tried to explain. “You fell and it was unexpected and it scared me. You couldn’t see what-”
“I fall, Luke, it happens! I need to be able to fall and get back up and figure that out. I don’t need you trying to be blind for me and trying to overcompensate and, and coddle me, okay?”
“I was just trying to help!” As they argued, he watched Noah pull two Bandaids out of the kit, fighting the urge to put them on himself. It probably wouldn’t go over too well.
Noah shook his head, even as he applied the Bandaids. “You were trying to help in your way. If you want to help, it has to be my way. You... back there? It was too overbearing.”
Luke winced at that. Ouch. “I panicked. I thought maybe you were hurt and there were so many people around, and if it were me, I’d-”
“That’s what you don’t get,” Noah cut in. “I’m not you. I’m me. You have to treat me like me, not like you.”
Another wince, though he had to acknowledge some truth to that one. “... I don’t like seeing the people I care about get hurt. That’s all it was. It was my reaction because of me, not because I think you’re weak or something.”
Noah deflated visibly. He finished bandaging his scraped hand in silence. “I wasn’t lying.”
“Wh-?”
“When I said I’d been doing this since I was four. Taking care of myself. It’s what I do. And especially after I lost my sight, it’s always been just me. Maybe that’s bad or wrong or pathetic, I don’t know. But I’m used to it, and I’m good at it now.”
“Noah,” Luke wasn’t sure if he’d ever heard anything sadder in his life.
“So you have to understand- I have to be able to do things for myself, before I let anyone else try. Other people aren’t always going to be around.” He pulled at the cuffs of his sleeves (another plaid shirt). “I guess I’m sorry, I know you meant well. But doing things the way you want doesn’t help me.” He tried to smile. “Help me up when I ask for it, not when I fall.”
He wanted to snap that that was stupid. “It kinda goes against my nature but, but I guess I can try that.”
Noah’s face softened even more, and how the hell was Luke supposed to stay mad looking at that? “How about, next time I fall I’ll at least let you help put the Bandaid on, and we’ll work from there?”
“Deal,” he laughed, secretly hoping there was no ‘next time’ ever to speak of. They slipped into their now-regular routine then, Noah booting up his laptop and Luke reading through his stack of notes and scenes.
He looked over at Noah a few minutes later, something weird striking him: there was no tension in the air. They’d just had a fight, a screaming match to be specific. But they had, like, talked it out, and now things were okay.
Wow. Weird.
So maybe Reid was a little right. Luke obviously didn’t know Noah all that well. But he was learning.
***
“So,” Reid obviously wasn’t a fan of small talk or preamble. Noah had learned this pretty quickly. “Anything new to report since your last appointment?”
“No, not really.” In a way, Noah actually appreciated how straightforward the guy was.
“Which is it, Mr. Mayer? No or not really?” he heard Reid move around a little bit before stepping close, touching the back of his head gently. Probably shining one of those stupid little pen lights in his eyes.
“Depends,” he countered. “Which am I, Noah or Mr. Mayer?”
Reid paused, and Noah fought back a smile. He really enjoyed, possibly too much, trying to throw Reid off his normal rhythm. It was fun. “Are you still insisting on me calling you Noah?”
He shrugged a little, careful not to jostle his doctor’s arm. “If you keep calling me Mr. Mayer I’m going to be forced to call you Reid. Which would be awkward for the both of us.”
“No argument on that one,” he heard Reid mumble. Which made him grin. At least until, “So the headaches haven’t gone away?”
Noah waited until he felt Reid take a step back to answer. “No. But they haven’t really gotten worse, either.”
“There’s that ‘really’ again.” He heard more movement, and strained his ears to try to figure out what it was. “I’m going to need one hundred percent disclosure here Mr. M- Noah, if I’m going to be able to treat you.”
He bit back a sigh. “The pain hasn’t gotten worse,” he amended. “But I’ve been getting them more often. When I’m tired or stressed more than usual, stuff like that.”
More movement around him. “Any loss of appetite? Problems with any motor functions, coordination?”
He almost said no, but then remembered. “My hands. They shake sometimes.” He held still as the stethoscope slid past the hospital scrubs shirt he’s wearing. “But it’s nothing like it used to be; I’ve gotten way better. Just when I’m upset or stressed. Most of the time I don’t think it has anything to do with... this,” he gestured to his head.
“Well, that’s why I’m the doctor and you’re the... whatever you are,” Reid snarked distractedly, as Noah heard him flipping through papers, scribbling something.
“The guy who needs a doctor?” Noah supplied for him.
“Exactly.” Reid finished up whatever he was doing, and Noah heard the click of his pen cap going back into place. “I’ll write you a prescription for a stronger painkiller. Not too strong,” he added quickly just as Noah was about to protest. “But enough to help you get to sleep faster. And I want you to come in next week for a new workup, some new tests. Are you available Tuesday?”
Noah shook his head, searching for his shirt to change back into. “No, I’m having dinner at the farm,” he said without thinking.
There was a moment between them, a pause, an acknowledgement of how weird that was and this was and how-did-this-happen... and then it was gone. “Wednesday, then. I want you in my office for some more tests.” He tapped Noah’s hand with a piece of paper. Noah instinctively took it, knowing it was his prescription. “In the meantime,” Reid warned. “Try to take it easy. With your condition, there’s no sense in tempting fate and aggravating your brain further.”
Noah nodded, somber, for a second. “Wow, and not even a crack about how small or deformed my brain must be,” he deadpanned. He might’ve heard Reid give a snort of laughter at that and counted it as a victory.
“Just get your small and deformed brain to my office on Wednesday. And take care of it until then. Otherwise you ruin my fun,” Reid followed him out of the exam room, into the hall. He was quiet for a moment for speaking again. "Does he- Do they know? About your condition, why you're my patient?"
Noah shook his head, wanting to feel defiant and strong but just feeling tired. "They don't know I am your patient. No one does. No one needs to."
Reid was quiet again. And then, instead of more questions or lectures or anything (though what did Noah expect?), he shrugged. “Have fun at the Walton Farm on Tuesday.” He awkwardly patted Noah on the shoulder and then his footsteps were echoing down the hall, barking orders at a poor, unsuspecting nurse along the way.
Noah listened to him go, then shook his head. Oakdale was a fucking weird town.
And he was pretty sure he didn’t mind one bit.
***
Luke entered Java, glancing around for Noah before he even knew what he was doing. Noah wasn’t there yet but, sadly, Mason was. The only bright spot was that he was getting ready to leave.
“Mr. Snyder,” Mason drew the name out, sounding pleasant enough if it weren’t for the look in his eyes. “Fancy running into you here.”
“Professor,” Luke put as much fake politeness into his tone as he could. The same exact tone Emma Snyder used when some old church lady tried to talk to her about morality and gay issues. The same tone Lucinda Walsh used when she was being offered a bad business deal and knew it.
He was good at this tone.
“Here to meet Noah?” Mason looked over his shoulder as though hoping he would appear.
Luke fought the urge to step in his way again. “Yeah, we’re going to work on that final scene, I think.” He smiled sweetly. “I’m sure he or the director will contact you when we’re done.”
Mason re-shouldered his messenger bag, eyes flashing for just a second. “I’m sure Noah will, too. He’s always so... easy to work with.”
“He’s a good guy,” Luke said for God knows what reason. “And he’s just trying to get his movie made. Don’t make it more than that.”
Mason actually laughed at him. “I don’t know when it was that you decided to appoint yourself as Noah’s protector, but I can assure you, it’s pointless. Noah’s a big boy. He can take care of himself. And he can choose who he spends time with all on his own.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
His smirk was just as annoying as his laugh. Just as insufferable. “I’m his co-producer for now. But once this film is done, it’s open season. Nothing you can do to stop me.”
“Really?” Luke had to mock-laugh a little, kinda shocked at Mason’s audacity. “Does Noah know that?”
“He will. Soon.” There was the tiniest of nods, and then Mason was gone, almost knocking into someone on his way out. Luke made a face at his retreating back, not caring if it was childish. He deserved it.
“Duuuuuude,” It turned out Casey was the ‘someone’ Mason had run into. He now had both eyebrows raised, studying Luke. “That’s one of your best bitchfaces yet. Who was that guy? And why was he wearing a scarf in July?”
“Mason Jarvis,” Luke spit out, rolling his eyes for good measure. “Noah’s producer.”
“Oooh!” Casey whirled around, craning his neck to try to get another glimpse of the guy in Old Town. “That’s Professor Pretentious? Wow. He’s even worse than Noah described.”
“Noah told you about him?” He leaned against the counter as Casey waited in line nearby.
“Yeah,” Casey grinned. “He didn’t mention the scarf though. That’s kinda awesome. Do you think he has one for every day of the week? Or one that changes colors depending on his mood? I think I’d be kinda jealous of that one.”
“So... so Noah’s not into him or anything?” Luke steered the conversation back to what was important. He cared about Noah and wanted what was best for him. That was why he cared so much about this, about him not being with Mason.
“Dude, no way. He told me he...” Casey stopped, cocked his head, narrowed his eyes at Luke. “Wait. You hate the Scarf Man.”
“Casey, I-”
“You do. You hate the Scarf Man.” Casey pointed a finger at him, accusing and gleeful in one breath. “Don’t lie, I’m almost a lawyer. I’ll know. You hate him. Because he likes Noah.”
“I didn’t say that!” Luke protested.
“You don’t have to,” Casey took his coffee from the barista (a guy named Jeff, Luke had heard Noah ask his name last week), and did a little victory dance on his way over to Luke. “You don’t like Mason. Because you feel threatened by him. Because he likes Noah. Because you like Noah. Oh my God. This is awesome. I have to tell Maddie.”
“Why Maddie? And I do not!”
“Maddie and I talk all the time, you know that. And she already wants to meet Noah. If she knows that you dig him, she’ll totally-”
“Casey,” Luke cut in, his voice sharp. “Simmer down. Noah’s my friend. Nothing more.”
Casey stopped bouncing around him, but he was still smiling. It was almost gentle, which on Casey was just... weird. “Luke, buddy? From where I’m standing?” He patted Luke’s shoulder, then headed back towards the door, leaving Luke back at his table. “It’s not nothing.”
***
“I just think it’s important!” Noah insisted.
“I agree with you, it is important,” Luke replied, sitting back down with their refills. “But you can’t make everything wrap up in a neat little bow. It’s not realistic.”
Noah grimaced, cueing up the scene on his laptop again. The last scene for the film. “I don’t need it to be realistic. I need it to be, well, happy.”
“There’s a difference between idealistic and naïve, Noah,” he pointed out. “People still need to be able to relate to it.”
“Do you really think people can only relate to an ending that’s messy and unhappy?” Noah leaned back in his chair, more curious than offended.
“I didn’t say that.” Luke frowned, trying to figure out what he was actually saying. “But making an ending too perfect kinda negates all the struggles they went through to get there.”
“But making the ending too depressing makes the whole journey needless to begin with, doesn’t it? What’s the point of taking it if it doesn’t work out?”
Luke sat back too. He hadn’t thought of that. “Well, maybe it could end well. With hope for fixing everything. But it can’t be perfect, Noah. Nothing real is.”
Noah pursed his lips, thinking it over. “So we’re debating between writing for an audience and writing to our own beliefs, huh?”
Did he do that thing with his lips just so Luke would stare at them? “And I think we’re both losing,” he half-joked, smiling at Noah’s laugh.
“Snyder, what are you doing?” Noah shook his head a little.
“What?”
Noah shifted closer again, arms crossing on the tabletop. “You’re, like, insanely talented. And you love writing. And you can argue with me about it, and pick out every little thing I missed in a scene and know how to fix it... You’re a writer, Luke. You just are. Why aren’t you out there being one?”
“It’s complicated,” he mumbled now. Great. Yet another person to tell him-
“It doesn’t have to be,” Noah argued. “No one can stop you from putting pen to paper. Or, I guess, finger to keyboard, I don’t know how you write. But,” he waved a hand to get himself back on track. “You’re a writer. Why can’t you see that?”
“If everyone followed their childhood dreams, there’d be a lot of ninjas and astronauts in the world,” Luke pointed out, hoping to deflect away from-
“This isn’t a childhood dream,” Noah wasn’t having it. “This is you.” He sat back, and Luke hurriedly took a sip of coffee, something to distract himself. “Haven’t you at least thought about it? If not going back to school, maybe taking a class somewhere, or writing freelance?” He smiled that tiny smile, the shy one, the one that sometimes made Luke dizzy and he didn’t know why. “You should think about it.”
Luke thought about the argument he’d had with Damian that morning, when Damian realized Luke was blowing off a meeting with some CEOs so he could write with Noah. He thought about how Reid had started teasing him about writing in his ‘diary.’ And he thought about the pile of notebooks he now had hidden in his car, the pages and pages of writing he’d done in the last few weeks.
And he smiled. “I’ll think about it.” The smile he got in return made it hard to breathe for a second. Confused, thrown, he went for another sip of his coffee. What the hell was that?
Noah put his laptop in his bag, completely oblivious. “Well, I have to get back to work. Do you want to come over for dinner at my place sometime soon? We can work on building up your portfolio.”
“Building up my...?” Luke laughed again. “I just said I’d think about it!”
Noah winked. “Sure, sure.” He stood up, and was about to say something else when his foot caught on Luke’s bag on the floor, pitching him forward.
“Whoa,” Luke stood in a flash, grabbing his arms to steady him. The force of his slightly heavier body drove Luke back a step, until he was leaning against the table, Noah almost completely in his arms. In his haste to steady himself- or both of them- Noah reached out, one of his hands on the table behind Luke, the other finding his waist.
For a second, the world screeched to a halt and everything froze. And it was a long second, because Luke had also lost all concept of time. Noah was pressed into him from chest to thigh, aligned perfectly. Too perfectly. His lips were parted slightly, breathing hard, and for some reason he wasn’t moving away.
Neither was Luke. His eyes darted back and forth between Noah’s dazed expression and that open mouth. He was breathing hard too. He couldn’t move. He couldn’t let go. He couldn’t stop staring.
But then that second was finally over, and Noah was pulling away, righting himself, face flushed red. “Sorry,” he turned away, reaching for his bag. His hands were shaking.
“It’s okay,” Luke breathed the word out, quiet. Confused. “Noah-”
“So, um, dinner sometime?” When Noah turned back to him, he was in control again. Calm, giving nothing away. It gave Luke a jolt- how often was Noah hiding himself from the outside world?
“Yeah, dinner. I’ll be there,” he recovered too, dropping his hands to his sides. They had still been stretched out. Towards Noah. Who was now walking out the door, gripping his cane a little tighter than normal.
Yeah. He really did have a lot to think about, didn’t he?
***
His grandmother caught him ‘thinking about things’ a few days later. She entered the house as grandly as she ever did, raising an eyebrow when she found him on the couch, pen sticking out of his mouth, notebook and papers spread out in front of him. “Someone’s been busy,” she commented.
He smiled. “Hi, Grandmother.” He stood up, kissed her cheek, and then checked the clock. He’d been at it for three hours, it probably was time to take a break.
“What’s all this, darling?” Lucinda held onto his shoulder as she took a seat next to him.
He gathered up everything hurriedly. “I’m, uh,” he smiled timidly. “I’m writing some stuff. Nothing big, just for fun.”
Lucinda smiled wide, then hurriedly covered the expression. “I think that’s wonderful, my dear. Any particular reason why the bug has bitten you now?”
He pictured Noah’s face and realized he was smiling wider. “A friend of mine kinda suggested it.”
She chuckled in that way that only Lucinda Walsh could. Like she already knew the answers to every question in the world. “This friend wouldn’t happen to be a tall, blue-eyed friend with movies on the brain and a penchant for blushing, would it?”
“What?” he stared at her, forgetting for a moment to cover up his writing. “How do you know Noah?”
“Your mother and I met him at the Lakeview the other day,” she said. “He was having lunch with Tom and Kim. He’s a very nice young man,” she side-eyed him.
“He is,” Luke agreed, keeping his voice neutral.
“You’ve been spending a lot of time with him lately,” Lucinda continued, her voice just as neutral. It freaked him out. “How does Dr. Oliver feel about that?”
“Noah and I aren’t like that,” he said hurriedly. “Reid has no reason to be jealous.”
Her expression didn’t change, but somehow she looked more victorious anyway. “So he is jealous?”
“I didn’t say that, Grandmother,” he said warningly, smiling in spite of himself. “He’s just... it’s weird. I like hanging out with Noah, he’s my friend. But Reid’s my boyfriend, and I, you know, have an obligation there too, you know?” he shook his head. “Why am I asking you if you know? I don’t even know what I’m talking about.”
“I think you do.”
He scrunched up one side of his face. “I like hanging out with him. He makes me feel better about myself, and he likes listening to me talk. But, like, look at Mom. She’s with Damian and friends with Dad and it looks way too complicated. Because Damian hates Dad and is always suspicious, for no reason at all. Mom never seems happy, and she’s trying so hard.”
Lucinda was silent for a moment, studying him. It was always kinda scary when she did that. “I’m going to give you the same advice I recently gave someone else in this family, darling.” She touched his face, getting his full attention. “Don’t feel something out of obligation. Don’t force anything. If you’re happy, be happy. If you’re not happy, fix it.”
“But-”
She wasn’t done. “Furthermore?” She smiled again. “Don’t compare yourself to your mother. Don’t take any life lessons from her situation. Trust me, my boy. Everyone- including your mother- would be better off.”
“This is going to drive me crazy,” he muttered, burying his face in his hands.
He heard her laugh softly, more gentle than he usually gave her credit for. “Yes, it is. You’ll never get used to it, but it’s worth it when done right.” She patted the top of his head, standing and heading back into the rest of the house. “Welcome to adulthood, darling.”
***
Turned out they were both really good at forgetting. Or denial.
“So I turn the heat down to simmer... and...” Luke looked back up at Noah. “Now what?”
Noah grinned. “You wait for the sauce to, you know, simmer.”
Luke smacked his arm lightly. “Smartass.” He took a step back as Noah moved towards the stove and expertly ran his hand along the counter, avoiding the burners, and picked up the ladle in the pot, stirring gently. “I’m not trying to be, like, ignorant here or anything, but I really can’t believe you can cook like this.”
His hand paused in stirring. “Like what?”
Realizing where Noah’s thought process was, Luke tried not to stutter or stumble. “Like, with multiple ingredients and more than three steps and complex processes and-”
“Okay, okay,” Noah groaned. “Please don’t mock Blind Wonder Chef.”
Luke snorted. “Please don’t call yourself Blind Wonder Chef.”
Noah chuckled, throwing a dish towel in Luke’s general direction. Luke caught it, joining in on the laugh. He did that a lot around Noah- laugh.
“I can’t do everything, obviously,” Noah said then, his voice softer. His focus on the dish in front of him allowed Luke to inch closer, studying him. “I mean, it’s not like I’m baking soufflés or decorating wedding cakes. I can’t do much of anything with the oven. But I can still use a stove. It takes practice, and some burns sometimes, but I can do it.”
Luke studied him. “You miss it,” he realized gently. Noah looked like he wanted to protest, but just shrugged instead. “I’m completely dysfunctional when it comes to the, well, mental part of cooking, but I have hands and feet,” -and eyes, he didn’t dare say- “so I could help you if you ever want it.”
Noah’s back was to him, stirring the sauce idly, but Luke kept his eyes on the straight, sturdy lines of his neck and shoulders. “Maybe,” came the short answer. “Maybe sometime.” And that was it, he went back to the stove in front of him.
Luke watched in a little bit of wonder as Noah dipped his head, tasted the sauce, and then reached for the closest cabinet. He watched as Noah’s hand counted to the third spice container and pulled it out, fingers dancing across the Braille label. God, Noah had nice hands. A little worn and scarred, but... really nice to look at.
“Okay,” Noah took a pinch of whatever spice it was and dropped it in the sauce, put the container back in the cabinet, and carefully stepped away from the stove. “Should be about twenty minutes before it’s ready. Pasta should be done by that time too.”
“Cool,” he shuffled his feet a little, scuffing one sneaker along the tiled floor. He suddenly stopped and stared at the foot, surprised. He was nervous. That was a tic he’d always had, scuffing his foot.
Why was he nervous?
He glanced at Noah, who was now sitting at the small kitchen table, pulling on the cuffs of his sleeves, pushing them up and down, like he wasn’t sure if he was hot or cold. Luke smiled a little, sat down in the chair next to him. “This is another reason I don’t like cooking. I’m not good at waiting.”
Noah crooked at eyebrow in his direction. “I’m really so surprised by that,” he replied, voice dry.
“Shut up,” Luke went to smack him again, but his hand stayed on Noah’s arm for just a second too long. Just long enough to feel the arm underneath the flannel. The muscle. Just long enough to wonder what it looked like. What it felt like to-
“Okay, I have to do this now or I never will.” Noah was suddenly standing, reaching out for the counter so he knew how far he could go.
“Do... what?” Luke frowned, worried that Noah had felt that extra second too and was freaked out, maybe was about to ask him to leave and never come back.
Noah visibly braced himself, took a deep breath, and let it out. Luke absolutely did not look at the way his chest rose and fell, stretching the t-shirt he was wearing. “I like you, Luke.”
“That’s, that’s great.” Luke would’ve probably understood that sentence better if his heart wasn’t pounding so hard, distracting him.
“No, Luke. I mean,” he smiled for a second. “It’s great, yeah. But not just ‘hey, you’re my buddy’ like. I, um, like you.” He rolled his eyes at himself. “And I can’t help it. We hang out all the time, but it’s like... like it’s not ever enough, you know?”
Luke did know. And didn’t. Or didn’t want to. “Noah...”
“I believe in being honest,” Noah barreled on. “I don’t have much, but I have that. And so I have to. Tell you, I mean. I have to tell you that I’m attracted to you.” He shrugged, scrunching up one side of his face. “There it is.”
Luke’s heart was still way too loud. “I...” he shook his head, cleared his throat. “You’re attracted to me.” He wasn’t sure if he was asking or repeating.
“Yeah,” Noah’s voice stayed on just this side of cracking.
“You think I’m...?” he didn’t know how he was going to end that sentence, he really didn’t. He wasn’t really sure what he was saying. Not many people had ever just flat-out told him something like this. Not even Reid. “Not annoying?”
“I think you’re beautiful,” came the soft response. Noah was facing away from him slightly, body turned towards the stove. And the door, like an escape route.
Luke shuddered a little at that, letting himself react physically because he knew it wouldn’t be seen. Speaking of... “But you don’t know what I look like,” he mumbled without really thinking.
Noah looked somewhere between wanting to laugh and wanting to run. “I’d like to think it can be based on more than just that,” his voice was still so quiet. “I like the way I feel around you. I don’t think I’ve ever felt it before.” His face darkened for a second, memories passing through that Luke had no hope of understanding, before Noah faced him again. “Me. I... feel like me.”
Luke bit his lip to keep the sigh-gasp from escaping. God. “Me too,” he admitted in a whisper.
Noah rubbed at his forehead. “But I can’t. Shouldn’t,” he tried to explain. “God knows I don’t want to be attached to anyone like that again-” again? - “and you’re with someone, and I’ve always been better at being alone. I don’t know how to be-”
This time Luke cut him off with a hand on his arm. He had no idea when he had stood up and joined Noah by the counter, but there he was. With a hand on Noah’s arm. The same arm he had felt earlier. The same muscle.
The same thoughts.
“Noah,” he said, much calmer than he probably should be.
Noah hung his head. “I’m sorry.”
He’d never seen Noah look so unsure before. “Noah,” he said again. Noah lifted his head just a little, biting the inside of his cheek. And Luke stopped thinking, instincts pushing him forward to meet Noah’s mouth with his own. It was soft, tentative, at first, and Noah pulled back in surprise after a few seconds.
But before Luke could offer any words, even breathe, he was diving back in, and this time the kiss was heavy, was impassioned, was real. For a few moments, the kitchen and the world boiled down to his lips connected with Noah’s, to the way Noah’s mouth opened to his, how those hands he had been admiring were now gently framing his face.
Good. God.
He’d never been kissed like this before. Like he was something... precious, something to be taken care of. With Reid, it was always either full-on, battling passion or quick on-my-way-out-the-door kisses. Reid always said he’d been taken care of enough in his life, he was an adult now, it wasn’t a boyfriend’s job to do that anymore.
Reid. Boyfriend. Shit.
“Wait, wait,” Luke pulled back (not too quickly), trying to refill his lungs with air. He stared at Noah, at his still closed eyes and still partially puckered lips and almost kissed him again. “Fuck, we have to... we...”
“I-” Noah stuttered right along with him. Neither of them seemed to know what to do or say.
Luke realized he was almost shaking. “I, yeah, I...” he took another step back. He had to. “I’m sorry. I think I need to go.”
“Go?” Noah’s brow creased, and Luke had to take yet another step back to keep himself from reaching up to smooth it away. “Are you-?”
He couldn’t do this right now. “I just, I have to go. I’m sorry.” Please don’t try to stop me, he silently begged. If Noah did... he wasn’t sure whether he’d leave or not.
Noah looked so sad, but just as unsettled as Luke felt. “Okay,” he finally said. “I’m sorry too.”
"Please don't be sorry." He didn't know why he said it, but he had to. And he should've said something more too. Something. Anything. But instead he turned and stumbled out of the apartment, leaving behind Noah and that damn sauce still waiting to simmer.
***
And made it a whole thirty-three hours before running into Noah again.
Luke stopped short, almost immediately blushing, when he walked out of Reid’s office and nearly into Noah’s chest. “Um. Hey.”
“Luke?” Noah looked just as uncomfortable. “Hey.”
There was a beat of silence between them, awkward for the first time ever. Luke bit the inside of his cheek nervously. “So, what are you doing here? Are you-” he tried to hide the sudden flash of panic. “Are you here to see Reid? For some reason?” For some unrelated-to-me-God-I-hope-so reason?
“He’s one of my doctors,” Noah said slowly, almost reluctantly. “I’m just here for an appointment, that’s all.”
“He’s what?” Luke couldn’t do much more than stare, wondering if (hoping) he had heard wrong. “Doctor?”
Noah nodded, tilting his head a little in the office’s direction as if listening for anyone else around. Then he turned his attention to Luke again. “The reason I fell, hurt my shoulder last year? I didn’t just trip and fall like some hapless blind guy. I...” he stopped, took a deep breath.
“Noah,” Luke said softly, hopefully steadily. You can tell me. Though why on earth would Noah trust him?
Yet for some strange reason, he apparently did. “There’s a block- a clot- in my brain,” he said so matter-of-factly. “From my accident. They couldn’t fix me up all the way, there was bleeding-” he cut himself off, then turned back to him again. “I get seizures sometimes. Not bad ones, but, you know...” he gestured to the direction of Reid’s office. “I see a doctor.”
“Seizures?” Luke didn’t squeak. He didn’t. “You, you’re-” he shook his head to wake himself up. “Are you okay?”
And for a second, Noah smiled. Beautiful. Sweet. Not yours. “I’m fine,” he assured. “It’s not life-threatening. I just have to keep it monitored and stuff.”
“Are you going to get better? Get it fixed?” Luke almost demanded.
Noah just smiled again. “I’m fine, Luke,” he repeated, brushing Luke’s shoulder gently as he walked past him.
It wasn’t until Noah was inside the office that Luke realized Noah never really answered the question. And it was several minutes after that, as he was reaching for the door of his car, that he realized he’d left his keys with Reid. Great.
There was a more-than-brief hesitation before he finally knocked on the door, easing it open, trying to keep his voice perfectly casual. “Reid? I think I left my-”
Reid wasn’t there, just Noah. Just Noah, perched on the edge of the exam table that took up one corner of Reid’s office, changing into a hospital-issued-scrubs shirt. Just Noah, chest bare and arms stretched as he pulled free of his sleeves. Just Noah. That was it.
Luke swallowed hard. Because, well, damn.
Did Noah really have no idea that he looked like this? No fucking wonder Mason always looked like he wanted to jump him. Hidden underneath far too many layers of shirts, Noah was... okay, the word ‘fuckable’ came to mind, but that was only because Luke’s brain wasn’t working to its full strength. Not overly muscular, but well-defined, slim and toned. Jesus. It almost wasn’t fair.
“Hello?” Noah was frowning in his direction, guarded and shy. His hands moved halfway to the scrubs shirt, as though undecided on whether to grab the shirt and put it on or just cross his arms to cover up.
Luke kinda hoped for the latter. Because arms. “It’s m-” Did Noah know him well enough by now to recognize his voice? “It’s Luke. I left my keys in here, sorry.”
“Oh,” Noah swallowed in much the same way Luke had. “Okay.” Luke watched as his face went shuttered, closed off, and the scrubs shirt was pulled close to him like a shield. “He went to get my test results,” he answered the question Luke hadn’t asked.
“Oh, okay,” Luke could only repeat Noah’s words back to him. He cleared his throat, tore his eyes away (chest, collar bone, abs, arms) and moved to Reid’s desk, finding his keys. By the time he turned back around, the scrubs shirt was on and Noah’s face was even more distant than it had been before. It looked like it did whenever he talked about his past, his accident. Whenever he was hiding.
Luke couldn’t believe that it actually hurt to see.
“Luke. Um, we...” Noah bit his lip, and Luke forced himself not to remember what those lips tasted like. “We need to talk about what happened the other day.”
“Yeah, I guess we do.” He took a few steps closer, but made sure to stay a safe distance away.
Safe enough for both of them.
Noah squared his shoulders, in that way he did whenever he was being decisive. “I’m- I’m not sorry I said what I said. I stand by it.” And just as Luke’s heart pounded at that (which was dumb, because he shouldn’t want Noah to want him), Noah continued. “But I think it would be best- for both of us- if we forget it happened. Everything that happened.”
And just as quickly, that confusing hope in him died. Oh. “That’s probably a good idea,” he said quickly, to cover his hesitancy. And if Noah maybe flinched a little at that, Luke decided not to acknowledge it. “I’m-” a mess “-with Reid. Who’s your doctor. And you’re my friend, and I don’t want-” to screw you up “-to risk ruining our friendship like that.”
“Yeah,” Noah’s voice was so soft now, Luke couldn’t tell if he was relieved or sad or both or neither. Which, if you mixed all those in a pot together, was how he was feeling right now. “I guess it’s not worth the risk.”
He breathed deeply around a sudden, illogical pain to his chest. Strangely, possibly stupidly, he found himself moving closer to Noah, as though to kiss him again. His hand reached out, centimeters away from Noah’s unsuspecting face, when the door opened. Luke jumped back, and Noah frowned at the sudden noise so close to him, confused.
“All right, Mr. Mayer, your latest results pretty much confirm what I-” Reid looked up from the chart, surprised. Maybe even, already, a little suspicious. “Luke?”
Luke threw a smile onto his face hastily, holding up his keys. “Forgot my keys,” he explained, stepping between both of them to reach the door. He practically fled out of the office and back to his car and, against all logic, the only question in his head was, Why would Noah want to forget that I kissed him?
CONTINUE ON TO CHAPTER 3
Author: carolinablu85
Artist: x_serenade
Rating: eventual NC-17
Disclaimer: I own less than nothing.
Summary: Based on the prompt: What if Luke had met Reid first?
A/N: Thank you to natashaodwalla for the prompt, to BB mods for running this whole shebang with poise and class and hard work, to x_serenade for her beautiful art!, and to all writers and artists who stuck with BigBang and are participating!
CHAPTER 1 | CHAPTER 2 | CHAPTER 3 | CHAPTER 4 | CHAPTER 5
That saying stuck with Luke for days. His notebook started to fill up more and more, less stranded thoughts and more coherent ideas, narratives starting to come together, dialogue, scenes. He still hid the work from everyone but Noah, but he was writing. And he was surprised at how good it felt.
He managed to slip out of a hospital wing meeting early, knowing that Noah usually got coffee at Java in the afternoon. He’d finished writing up a scene last night that he thought would compliment Noah’s script really well, and he was (surprisingly) eager to show it to him.
Which was totally the reason (the only reason), he was brought up short when he entered Java and saw Noah sitting at a table with another man. Good looking, slightly older, artsy. Insufferable, Luke was sure.
Completely sure.
He came to a stop next to the table, making sure to call out before touching Noah’s shoulder. “Hey, it’s Luke.”
Noah looked up with a giddy smile. “Luke, hey! What are you doing here?”
He stuffed his hands in his pockets, not liking the way the other man’s eyes zeroed in on where he had touched Noah. “Looking for you.” He eyed Mr. Artsy Guy. “But if you’re busy I can come back...” he purposefully trailed off, hoping the opposite.
“No, no it’s fine,” Noah beckoned him to sit down. “We’re almost done. Luke, this is the guy from Oakdale University who wants to produce my film. Mason Jarvis, this is Luke Snyder. He’s a writer too.”
“Really?” The Mason guy looked him up and down with absolutely no enthusiasm, then turned back to Noah. And Luke’s own eyes narrowed at the way Mason looked at Noah. Like he was stranded on a desert island and Noah was the last glass of fresh water. Which, hey, people could look at Noah however they wanted. It wasn’t Luke’s business. But when it was so obvious like that? Just plain annoying.
He inched his chair a little closer to Noah’s, just in case. “Not really,” he answered Mason’s probably-rhetorical question. “I just write for fun. Nothing like what Noah’s doing.”
“Yes really,” Noah insisted. Turning back to Mason, “That change on page thirty-two, that you liked so much? That was Luke’s idea. He’s really good.”
Luke made sure not to blush at the praise, as though he and Noah always talked like this. Just so Mason would know he was Noah’s friend first, and he better stop looking at Noah like... that.
Mason glanced at Luke again, more calculated this time. Like he was sizing up competition. Which was ridiculous, right? Luke was Noah’s friend. Mason was crazy. And way stupid if he thought he was good enough for Noah. “Well then,” Mason’s voice was oily. Reminded him of Damian’s when he was trying to close a business deal. “I guess it’s a good thing we have Luke around.”
Yeah. Luke didn’t like this guy.
He purposefully turned to look at Noah and Noah alone. “Are you free for the rest of the afternoon? I have something new for you.”
“You wrote more?” Noah had no idea Mason was basically eye-fucking him, obviously. “Awesome. I was going to see if someone could take me out to one of our shooting locations today so I could get a feel for it, but I could do that another day.”
Mason opened his mouth and Luke knew, just knew, that he was about to offer to drive Noah out to God knows where and probably, like, try to woo him in a field of meadowflowers or something. So, of course, Luke went with his own impulsive ideas first. “Oh, I can drive you.” He noted with some satisfaction that Mason’s mouth snapped shut.
“Wait, Luke, are you sure?” Noah was still smiling, but his brow furrowed. “It’s gonna take a few hours, don’t you have hospital stuff today?”
He did, actually. There was a cocktail reception scheduled for the evening that he was pretty sure Dr. Hughes wanted him to go to, partly to make sure Reid didn’t insult another donor. But hey, if he was a little late, nobody would really care. Luke was actually very certain of that.
“Nothing important,” he assured. “I want to go with you.” And the grateful look on Noah’s face combined with the disgruntled one on Mason’s had Luke feeling like this was his best idea in a long time.
And that feeling stayed right up until the moment, hours later, that his car decided to break down on the side of a deserted road outside town. In the middle of a storm.
Of course.
He threw himself back into the car with a groan, shaking off the rain in his hair and on his jacket. “We’re completely screwed.”
Noah raised an eyebrow. “That bad?” He reached out searchingly until he found Luke’s sleeve, tugging on it.
“Yeah,” Luke glared at his phone. “I called for a tow, but with the weather? They won’t show up for awhile. The tow truck probably wouldn’t make it through the mud. The incredible backwater aspect of this small town is rearing its ugly head.”
Noah let out a laugh. “That’s some very eloquent bitching you’ve got going on there, Snyder.”
“Shut up,” he blinked when he realized Noah’s tugging had gotten Luke’s soaked jacket off of him and tossed into the backseat, and Noah’s much warmer, drier jacket was now in Luke’s lap. When had that happened? “Thanks,” he added, feeling stupidly shy, pulling it around him.
Noah just shrugged. “What did the engine look like? Fixable?”
“Fuck if I know,” Luke groaned, foul mood coming back. “I suck at mechanical stuff. I don’t know an engine from a carburetor from a magic school bus. I’d probably blow it up before I fixed it.”
“So between me the blind guy and you the blond guy, we’re completely screwed,” Noah supplied good-naturedly.
Luke grumbled just the same, maybe to counter-balance his steadiness. “Yep.” Then he paused, frowning even more. “Wait. How did you even know I’m blond?”
Noah blinked, then started giggling. Full-on, delighted, little-kid giggling. “I didn’t. A wild guess that totally paid off,” he managed to say.
Luke just stared at him, fighting off an involuntary smile. What guy their age giggled? Seriously. He was somewhere between wanting to smack him, or ruffle his hair and buy him ice cream, or-
No. Not going down that road. He glared instead, crossing his arms miserably, forgetting yet again that Noah couldn’t see the gesture. “Laugh it up, Chuckles. We’re stuck on the side of the road, outside town, in the middle of a rainstorm. You know how long it’s going to be to get someone out here?”
Noah’s laughter died down, though his grin didn’t. “So we’ll wait a little while. It’s not the end of the world.”
“It’s annoying,” Luke argued for the sake of arguing.
Noah just shrugged, resting back in his seat a little more. “You always get this worked up over silly stuff?” he teased.
At least, Luke thought it was teasing. Spending so much time with Reid, he was used to taking even the driest of jokes as mostly truth. “You think being stranded is silly?”
Noah tilted his head. “Not really, but it could be worse. At least I’ve got nice company.” And then he smiled again.
And maybe Luke wasn’t as annoyed as he thought he was. “So that’s the location you want to use?” he asked, settling back in his own seat.
Noah nodded. “I think so. It’s out of the way- won’t have much risk of interruption- and, and I don’t know, it felt off the beaten path, you know?”
He smiled. “Yeah. Somewhere that’s only theirs.”
“Exactly,” Noah agreed. “I want a place that’s kind of secret, safe. A... Secret Garden or Wonderland kinda feel, or... I don’t know, give me a literary reference.”
Luke thought hard, his smile widening as it did whenever he got to use that part of his brain. “Shangri-La.”
“Yes!” Noah nodded again. “Perfect. See? That’s why I need you.” He stopped abruptly, smile freezing. Luke was frozen too, for just that second, until Noah shook his head. “That came out kinda forward, didn’t it?” He chuckled self-consciously. “That’s why I’m glad to have you around, I meant to say.”
For once, Luke was somewhat glad Noah couldn’t see. At least his face, because it felt pretty damn red at the moment. “Well, it’s nice to be needed,” he replied lamely.
Noah cleared his throat, leaning back again. “So. What did you think of it?”
“The location?” Luke shook himself out of that sudden, weird tension. “I liked it. It did feel like a secret. And it wasn’t too, um, distracting, if that makes sense. Visually. You could do a lot with it.”
Noah’s face lit up excitedly. “Yeah? Good. I want that. I want it to look... I don’t know, like it smelled.”
“What did it smell like?” he asked curiously, turning to him even more, getting comfy.
Noah bit his lip, thinking it over. Luke kept his eyes away from the gesture. “It smelled like... the air was fresh, you know? Light. Like you were surrounded but not smothered by it. I want it to look like that.” Another shrug, a little more self-conscious. “Or something.”
“I think I get it,” he said softly, surprising himself.
And, judging by the look on Noah’s face, surprising him too. But instead of commenting, Noah just tilted his head to the side. “It stopped raining.”
Luke looked out the windshield, surprised. “Oh. Yeah.” He hadn’t even noticed. “Guess the tow will be here soon then.”
Noah frowned a little suddenly. “How far away are we from town? If you need to go, you can. Walk, I mean. I can wait with the car. It’s no big d-”
“Noah,” Luke half-laughed. “I’m not just gonna leave you here to deal with my car, that wouldn’t be fair.” He was careful not to say anything about Noah not being able to handle it on his own.
“But if you have to be somewhere,” Noah insisted.
Luke was about to shake his head but caught himself. “Hey. It’s fine. There was something I was going to do, but I don’t have to.” A flash of yet another hospital cocktail event, the fake-mingling and club-soda-drinking hell it was, only strengthened his resolve. “I’d rather be here.”
The look on Noah’s face was comically skeptical. “Whatever that thing is must really suck.”
He caught his shrug in time too. “Hanging out with you doesn’t.”
There was a slight blush to Noah’s face at that, and he turned away for a second. Out of instinct, Luke turned his head away too, to give Noah the moment. They were both silent for a few minutes, Luke staring out the windshield again, when Noah spoke up. “Spiderman or Batman?”
Luke’s head swiveled around so fast he was surprised he didn’t hear a creaking sound. “What?”
Noah grinned at him, that big giant goofy one. “Spiderman or Batman? Which do you like better? Or who, I guess.”
“Seriously?” he sputtered. “That’s what you want to talk about?”
Noah chuckled, throaty and delighted. “Why not? You said you like comic books. And I’d bet a month’s rent that you’ve seen the movies. Which do you like better?”
Luke smiled. “Batman, hands down,” he answered. “Better backstory, better villains.”
Noah grinned wider. “And he couldn’t rely on superpowers. And had a badass car.”
“Exactly,” Luke agreed, satisfied. Then he shook his head, letting out a chuckle of his own. “I can’t believe we’re talking about this.”
“Why not?” Noah asked sincerely.
“Be-because it’s childish,” Luke offered, feeling dumb. “Just about stupid stuff.”
“So?” Noah was still smiling, but just a little confused. “Does every conversation have to be some meaningful, deep thing? That would get pretty tiring. Don’t you ever just want to talk about silly stuff and just...” he waved a hand around.
Yes. “I don’t know,” he said. “I can’t be a... I’m not a kid anymore.”
“So?” Noah said again. He smiled, almost gently this time. “Just be you.”
Luke didn’t know how to respond to that out loud. What if I don’t know who I am?
***
“I don’t even hear it from you. Dr. Hughes’s secretary has to inform me that my boyfriend is missing the reception because he's off having fun with another man. Wow. Thanks,” Reid undid his tie, tossing it to the side.
Luke rolled his eyes. “My car broke down. And stop saying ‘with another man’ like we were naked and feeding each other chocolate-covered strawberries in a meadow or something. It’s just Noah. We got stuck in a storm. Jesus.”
“Just Noah?” Reid fixed him with a stare. “You do realize ‘just Noah’ is the person you’ve spent more time with than your own family in the last two weeks?”
“Noah’s my friend,” Luke crossed his arms, defiant. “I’m helping him out with his film, and he’s helping me with my writing. Friends do that.”
“Writing? You’re writing again?” Reid asked. “When did you start that? And why is writing suddenly so much more important than the hospital or your other job? Jobs,” he added, correcting himself.
“Because they’re just jobs. Writing is something different. Something I like.” He shook his head. “Why are we even talking about this? You’re mad because you had to spend a night actually socializing without me to cover for you.”
“I’m mad because my boyfriend is apparently regressing back to his high school self, and using a blind guy to help him do it.”
Luke took a second to breathe deeply, slowly. “That’s what you really think of me?”
They stared at each other for a minute before Reid let out his own breath, shoulders relaxing back a fraction of an inch. “No,” he admitted. “I’m just...” he paused, gathered his thoughts. Which was strange, as he was usually like Luke- just say the first thing that came to mind. “It’s unsettling. I’m used to having you around all the time,” he offered up a smile. “And you’ve been playing elsewhere lately.”
Luke found himself softening too. “It doesn’t change that much,” he reminded Reid, not ready to concede entirely. “I have friends that aren’t you, and I’m going to hang out with them. Noah’s my friend. You have to respect that.”
“I do,” Reid replied. “But... you haven’t known Noah for that long. You can’t know him that well. Just be careful, all right?”
“You think there’s something wrong with him?” Luke half-laughed. “It’s Noah. You've only talked to him, like, one time. Trust me, he’s a Boy Scout.”
“Really?” Reid gave him that poor-you-and-your-not-as-good-as-mine-brain look. A very pointed one this time, for reasons Luke couldn't figure out. “What do you know about him, Luke? Really know about him? You met him like a month ago, and he’s got you roped into working on his film? You sure he’s not just treating you like his own personal seeing-eye boy?”
“Noah’s not like that,” Luke defended.
“How do you know?” Reid pointed out, completely calm, completely reasonable. “What happens when his movie is done? When he doesn’t need you anymore?”
Why did there have to be something wrong with Noah? He was confused and indignant about that, but also too tired to argue. Adults had conflicts and then made up again, and Luke was an adult. “I’m sorry I didn’t make it to the reception.”
Reid frowned for a second, then chuckled. “You’re lucky I didn’t make anyone cry.”
Luke forced a laugh too, stepped in and kissed him lightly. Reid pulled him by the front of his shirt when he tried to lean back. This kiss was more insistent, sharper. Luke welcomed it, ridding himself of the tension between them and the tension that had been following him since the car broke down.
Reid backed up a few steps, still holding onto Luke’s shirt, still hold close to Luke’s mouth. “No reason we can’t hang out now, is there?” he raised an eyebrow.
Luke answered him by kissing him again, following him back into the bedroom.
***
“Would you just stop for a second?!” Luke tried to keep a grip on Noah’s arm, but somehow it kept slipping out of his hands.
“Leave. Me. Alone,” Noah growled. He pulled his apartment keys out of his pocket, and Luke could see his hands, one of the palms scraped up, were shaking.
“No way am I leaving you alone,” Luke wanted to laugh at how stupid that suggestion was. “Your hands are bleeding, probably your knee too. I need to patch it up before-”
“I’ve been patching myself up since I was four, I don’t need you,” Noah’s voice actually got loud. It was crazy. Luke had never heard Noah’s voice go beyond moderately soft-spoken before.
“It’s not about need, it’s about letting other people help,” Luke wasn’t exactly quiet either.
“I know how to take care of myself-”
“No one’s arguing that! You’re just pissed and embarrassed because you fell. It’s not a big deal, there’s no-” he tried to turn his voice soft, placating. Soothing.
“That’s not why I’m pissed, Luke!” Yeah, evidently the soothing wasn’t working.
“Then why?” He followed Noah into the apartment, watching with some amazement still that Noah could navigate it so easily. He trailed after his friend as he dropped his stuff by the door and headed into the living room, where a first-aid kit was stored next to the couch. Luke wondered how often Noah needed one within close reach.
“You!” Noah was still kinda yelling. “You... do you have any idea how you acted back there?”
“I was freaked out!” Luke tried to explain. “You fell and it was unexpected and it scared me. You couldn’t see what-”
“I fall, Luke, it happens! I need to be able to fall and get back up and figure that out. I don’t need you trying to be blind for me and trying to overcompensate and, and coddle me, okay?”
“I was just trying to help!” As they argued, he watched Noah pull two Bandaids out of the kit, fighting the urge to put them on himself. It probably wouldn’t go over too well.
Noah shook his head, even as he applied the Bandaids. “You were trying to help in your way. If you want to help, it has to be my way. You... back there? It was too overbearing.”
Luke winced at that. Ouch. “I panicked. I thought maybe you were hurt and there were so many people around, and if it were me, I’d-”
“That’s what you don’t get,” Noah cut in. “I’m not you. I’m me. You have to treat me like me, not like you.”
Another wince, though he had to acknowledge some truth to that one. “... I don’t like seeing the people I care about get hurt. That’s all it was. It was my reaction because of me, not because I think you’re weak or something.”
Noah deflated visibly. He finished bandaging his scraped hand in silence. “I wasn’t lying.”
“Wh-?”
“When I said I’d been doing this since I was four. Taking care of myself. It’s what I do. And especially after I lost my sight, it’s always been just me. Maybe that’s bad or wrong or pathetic, I don’t know. But I’m used to it, and I’m good at it now.”
“Noah,” Luke wasn’t sure if he’d ever heard anything sadder in his life.
“So you have to understand- I have to be able to do things for myself, before I let anyone else try. Other people aren’t always going to be around.” He pulled at the cuffs of his sleeves (another plaid shirt). “I guess I’m sorry, I know you meant well. But doing things the way you want doesn’t help me.” He tried to smile. “Help me up when I ask for it, not when I fall.”
He wanted to snap that that was stupid. “It kinda goes against my nature but, but I guess I can try that.”
Noah’s face softened even more, and how the hell was Luke supposed to stay mad looking at that? “How about, next time I fall I’ll at least let you help put the Bandaid on, and we’ll work from there?”
“Deal,” he laughed, secretly hoping there was no ‘next time’ ever to speak of. They slipped into their now-regular routine then, Noah booting up his laptop and Luke reading through his stack of notes and scenes.
He looked over at Noah a few minutes later, something weird striking him: there was no tension in the air. They’d just had a fight, a screaming match to be specific. But they had, like, talked it out, and now things were okay.
Wow. Weird.
So maybe Reid was a little right. Luke obviously didn’t know Noah all that well. But he was learning.
***
“So,” Reid obviously wasn’t a fan of small talk or preamble. Noah had learned this pretty quickly. “Anything new to report since your last appointment?”
“No, not really.” In a way, Noah actually appreciated how straightforward the guy was.
“Which is it, Mr. Mayer? No or not really?” he heard Reid move around a little bit before stepping close, touching the back of his head gently. Probably shining one of those stupid little pen lights in his eyes.
“Depends,” he countered. “Which am I, Noah or Mr. Mayer?”
Reid paused, and Noah fought back a smile. He really enjoyed, possibly too much, trying to throw Reid off his normal rhythm. It was fun. “Are you still insisting on me calling you Noah?”
He shrugged a little, careful not to jostle his doctor’s arm. “If you keep calling me Mr. Mayer I’m going to be forced to call you Reid. Which would be awkward for the both of us.”
“No argument on that one,” he heard Reid mumble. Which made him grin. At least until, “So the headaches haven’t gone away?”
Noah waited until he felt Reid take a step back to answer. “No. But they haven’t really gotten worse, either.”
“There’s that ‘really’ again.” He heard more movement, and strained his ears to try to figure out what it was. “I’m going to need one hundred percent disclosure here Mr. M- Noah, if I’m going to be able to treat you.”
He bit back a sigh. “The pain hasn’t gotten worse,” he amended. “But I’ve been getting them more often. When I’m tired or stressed more than usual, stuff like that.”
More movement around him. “Any loss of appetite? Problems with any motor functions, coordination?”
He almost said no, but then remembered. “My hands. They shake sometimes.” He held still as the stethoscope slid past the hospital scrubs shirt he’s wearing. “But it’s nothing like it used to be; I’ve gotten way better. Just when I’m upset or stressed. Most of the time I don’t think it has anything to do with... this,” he gestured to his head.
“Well, that’s why I’m the doctor and you’re the... whatever you are,” Reid snarked distractedly, as Noah heard him flipping through papers, scribbling something.
“The guy who needs a doctor?” Noah supplied for him.
“Exactly.” Reid finished up whatever he was doing, and Noah heard the click of his pen cap going back into place. “I’ll write you a prescription for a stronger painkiller. Not too strong,” he added quickly just as Noah was about to protest. “But enough to help you get to sleep faster. And I want you to come in next week for a new workup, some new tests. Are you available Tuesday?”
Noah shook his head, searching for his shirt to change back into. “No, I’m having dinner at the farm,” he said without thinking.
There was a moment between them, a pause, an acknowledgement of how weird that was and this was and how-did-this-happen... and then it was gone. “Wednesday, then. I want you in my office for some more tests.” He tapped Noah’s hand with a piece of paper. Noah instinctively took it, knowing it was his prescription. “In the meantime,” Reid warned. “Try to take it easy. With your condition, there’s no sense in tempting fate and aggravating your brain further.”
Noah nodded, somber, for a second. “Wow, and not even a crack about how small or deformed my brain must be,” he deadpanned. He might’ve heard Reid give a snort of laughter at that and counted it as a victory.
“Just get your small and deformed brain to my office on Wednesday. And take care of it until then. Otherwise you ruin my fun,” Reid followed him out of the exam room, into the hall. He was quiet for a moment for speaking again. "Does he- Do they know? About your condition, why you're my patient?"
Noah shook his head, wanting to feel defiant and strong but just feeling tired. "They don't know I am your patient. No one does. No one needs to."
Reid was quiet again. And then, instead of more questions or lectures or anything (though what did Noah expect?), he shrugged. “Have fun at the Walton Farm on Tuesday.” He awkwardly patted Noah on the shoulder and then his footsteps were echoing down the hall, barking orders at a poor, unsuspecting nurse along the way.
Noah listened to him go, then shook his head. Oakdale was a fucking weird town.
And he was pretty sure he didn’t mind one bit.
***
Luke entered Java, glancing around for Noah before he even knew what he was doing. Noah wasn’t there yet but, sadly, Mason was. The only bright spot was that he was getting ready to leave.
“Mr. Snyder,” Mason drew the name out, sounding pleasant enough if it weren’t for the look in his eyes. “Fancy running into you here.”
“Professor,” Luke put as much fake politeness into his tone as he could. The same exact tone Emma Snyder used when some old church lady tried to talk to her about morality and gay issues. The same tone Lucinda Walsh used when she was being offered a bad business deal and knew it.
He was good at this tone.
“Here to meet Noah?” Mason looked over his shoulder as though hoping he would appear.
Luke fought the urge to step in his way again. “Yeah, we’re going to work on that final scene, I think.” He smiled sweetly. “I’m sure he or the director will contact you when we’re done.”
Mason re-shouldered his messenger bag, eyes flashing for just a second. “I’m sure Noah will, too. He’s always so... easy to work with.”
“He’s a good guy,” Luke said for God knows what reason. “And he’s just trying to get his movie made. Don’t make it more than that.”
Mason actually laughed at him. “I don’t know when it was that you decided to appoint yourself as Noah’s protector, but I can assure you, it’s pointless. Noah’s a big boy. He can take care of himself. And he can choose who he spends time with all on his own.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
His smirk was just as annoying as his laugh. Just as insufferable. “I’m his co-producer for now. But once this film is done, it’s open season. Nothing you can do to stop me.”
“Really?” Luke had to mock-laugh a little, kinda shocked at Mason’s audacity. “Does Noah know that?”
“He will. Soon.” There was the tiniest of nods, and then Mason was gone, almost knocking into someone on his way out. Luke made a face at his retreating back, not caring if it was childish. He deserved it.
“Duuuuuude,” It turned out Casey was the ‘someone’ Mason had run into. He now had both eyebrows raised, studying Luke. “That’s one of your best bitchfaces yet. Who was that guy? And why was he wearing a scarf in July?”
“Mason Jarvis,” Luke spit out, rolling his eyes for good measure. “Noah’s producer.”
“Oooh!” Casey whirled around, craning his neck to try to get another glimpse of the guy in Old Town. “That’s Professor Pretentious? Wow. He’s even worse than Noah described.”
“Noah told you about him?” He leaned against the counter as Casey waited in line nearby.
“Yeah,” Casey grinned. “He didn’t mention the scarf though. That’s kinda awesome. Do you think he has one for every day of the week? Or one that changes colors depending on his mood? I think I’d be kinda jealous of that one.”
“So... so Noah’s not into him or anything?” Luke steered the conversation back to what was important. He cared about Noah and wanted what was best for him. That was why he cared so much about this, about him not being with Mason.
“Dude, no way. He told me he...” Casey stopped, cocked his head, narrowed his eyes at Luke. “Wait. You hate the Scarf Man.”
“Casey, I-”
“You do. You hate the Scarf Man.” Casey pointed a finger at him, accusing and gleeful in one breath. “Don’t lie, I’m almost a lawyer. I’ll know. You hate him. Because he likes Noah.”
“I didn’t say that!” Luke protested.
“You don’t have to,” Casey took his coffee from the barista (a guy named Jeff, Luke had heard Noah ask his name last week), and did a little victory dance on his way over to Luke. “You don’t like Mason. Because you feel threatened by him. Because he likes Noah. Because you like Noah. Oh my God. This is awesome. I have to tell Maddie.”
“Why Maddie? And I do not!”
“Maddie and I talk all the time, you know that. And she already wants to meet Noah. If she knows that you dig him, she’ll totally-”
“Casey,” Luke cut in, his voice sharp. “Simmer down. Noah’s my friend. Nothing more.”
Casey stopped bouncing around him, but he was still smiling. It was almost gentle, which on Casey was just... weird. “Luke, buddy? From where I’m standing?” He patted Luke’s shoulder, then headed back towards the door, leaving Luke back at his table. “It’s not nothing.”
***
“I just think it’s important!” Noah insisted.
“I agree with you, it is important,” Luke replied, sitting back down with their refills. “But you can’t make everything wrap up in a neat little bow. It’s not realistic.”
Noah grimaced, cueing up the scene on his laptop again. The last scene for the film. “I don’t need it to be realistic. I need it to be, well, happy.”
“There’s a difference between idealistic and naïve, Noah,” he pointed out. “People still need to be able to relate to it.”
“Do you really think people can only relate to an ending that’s messy and unhappy?” Noah leaned back in his chair, more curious than offended.
“I didn’t say that.” Luke frowned, trying to figure out what he was actually saying. “But making an ending too perfect kinda negates all the struggles they went through to get there.”
“But making the ending too depressing makes the whole journey needless to begin with, doesn’t it? What’s the point of taking it if it doesn’t work out?”
Luke sat back too. He hadn’t thought of that. “Well, maybe it could end well. With hope for fixing everything. But it can’t be perfect, Noah. Nothing real is.”
Noah pursed his lips, thinking it over. “So we’re debating between writing for an audience and writing to our own beliefs, huh?”
Did he do that thing with his lips just so Luke would stare at them? “And I think we’re both losing,” he half-joked, smiling at Noah’s laugh.
“Snyder, what are you doing?” Noah shook his head a little.
“What?”
Noah shifted closer again, arms crossing on the tabletop. “You’re, like, insanely talented. And you love writing. And you can argue with me about it, and pick out every little thing I missed in a scene and know how to fix it... You’re a writer, Luke. You just are. Why aren’t you out there being one?”
“It’s complicated,” he mumbled now. Great. Yet another person to tell him-
“It doesn’t have to be,” Noah argued. “No one can stop you from putting pen to paper. Or, I guess, finger to keyboard, I don’t know how you write. But,” he waved a hand to get himself back on track. “You’re a writer. Why can’t you see that?”
“If everyone followed their childhood dreams, there’d be a lot of ninjas and astronauts in the world,” Luke pointed out, hoping to deflect away from-
“This isn’t a childhood dream,” Noah wasn’t having it. “This is you.” He sat back, and Luke hurriedly took a sip of coffee, something to distract himself. “Haven’t you at least thought about it? If not going back to school, maybe taking a class somewhere, or writing freelance?” He smiled that tiny smile, the shy one, the one that sometimes made Luke dizzy and he didn’t know why. “You should think about it.”
Luke thought about the argument he’d had with Damian that morning, when Damian realized Luke was blowing off a meeting with some CEOs so he could write with Noah. He thought about how Reid had started teasing him about writing in his ‘diary.’ And he thought about the pile of notebooks he now had hidden in his car, the pages and pages of writing he’d done in the last few weeks.
And he smiled. “I’ll think about it.” The smile he got in return made it hard to breathe for a second. Confused, thrown, he went for another sip of his coffee. What the hell was that?
Noah put his laptop in his bag, completely oblivious. “Well, I have to get back to work. Do you want to come over for dinner at my place sometime soon? We can work on building up your portfolio.”
“Building up my...?” Luke laughed again. “I just said I’d think about it!”
Noah winked. “Sure, sure.” He stood up, and was about to say something else when his foot caught on Luke’s bag on the floor, pitching him forward.
“Whoa,” Luke stood in a flash, grabbing his arms to steady him. The force of his slightly heavier body drove Luke back a step, until he was leaning against the table, Noah almost completely in his arms. In his haste to steady himself- or both of them- Noah reached out, one of his hands on the table behind Luke, the other finding his waist.
For a second, the world screeched to a halt and everything froze. And it was a long second, because Luke had also lost all concept of time. Noah was pressed into him from chest to thigh, aligned perfectly. Too perfectly. His lips were parted slightly, breathing hard, and for some reason he wasn’t moving away.
Neither was Luke. His eyes darted back and forth between Noah’s dazed expression and that open mouth. He was breathing hard too. He couldn’t move. He couldn’t let go. He couldn’t stop staring.
But then that second was finally over, and Noah was pulling away, righting himself, face flushed red. “Sorry,” he turned away, reaching for his bag. His hands were shaking.
“It’s okay,” Luke breathed the word out, quiet. Confused. “Noah-”
“So, um, dinner sometime?” When Noah turned back to him, he was in control again. Calm, giving nothing away. It gave Luke a jolt- how often was Noah hiding himself from the outside world?
“Yeah, dinner. I’ll be there,” he recovered too, dropping his hands to his sides. They had still been stretched out. Towards Noah. Who was now walking out the door, gripping his cane a little tighter than normal.
Yeah. He really did have a lot to think about, didn’t he?
***
His grandmother caught him ‘thinking about things’ a few days later. She entered the house as grandly as she ever did, raising an eyebrow when she found him on the couch, pen sticking out of his mouth, notebook and papers spread out in front of him. “Someone’s been busy,” she commented.
He smiled. “Hi, Grandmother.” He stood up, kissed her cheek, and then checked the clock. He’d been at it for three hours, it probably was time to take a break.
“What’s all this, darling?” Lucinda held onto his shoulder as she took a seat next to him.
He gathered up everything hurriedly. “I’m, uh,” he smiled timidly. “I’m writing some stuff. Nothing big, just for fun.”
Lucinda smiled wide, then hurriedly covered the expression. “I think that’s wonderful, my dear. Any particular reason why the bug has bitten you now?”
He pictured Noah’s face and realized he was smiling wider. “A friend of mine kinda suggested it.”
She chuckled in that way that only Lucinda Walsh could. Like she already knew the answers to every question in the world. “This friend wouldn’t happen to be a tall, blue-eyed friend with movies on the brain and a penchant for blushing, would it?”
“What?” he stared at her, forgetting for a moment to cover up his writing. “How do you know Noah?”
“Your mother and I met him at the Lakeview the other day,” she said. “He was having lunch with Tom and Kim. He’s a very nice young man,” she side-eyed him.
“He is,” Luke agreed, keeping his voice neutral.
“You’ve been spending a lot of time with him lately,” Lucinda continued, her voice just as neutral. It freaked him out. “How does Dr. Oliver feel about that?”
“Noah and I aren’t like that,” he said hurriedly. “Reid has no reason to be jealous.”
Her expression didn’t change, but somehow she looked more victorious anyway. “So he is jealous?”
“I didn’t say that, Grandmother,” he said warningly, smiling in spite of himself. “He’s just... it’s weird. I like hanging out with Noah, he’s my friend. But Reid’s my boyfriend, and I, you know, have an obligation there too, you know?” he shook his head. “Why am I asking you if you know? I don’t even know what I’m talking about.”
“I think you do.”
He scrunched up one side of his face. “I like hanging out with him. He makes me feel better about myself, and he likes listening to me talk. But, like, look at Mom. She’s with Damian and friends with Dad and it looks way too complicated. Because Damian hates Dad and is always suspicious, for no reason at all. Mom never seems happy, and she’s trying so hard.”
Lucinda was silent for a moment, studying him. It was always kinda scary when she did that. “I’m going to give you the same advice I recently gave someone else in this family, darling.” She touched his face, getting his full attention. “Don’t feel something out of obligation. Don’t force anything. If you’re happy, be happy. If you’re not happy, fix it.”
“But-”
She wasn’t done. “Furthermore?” She smiled again. “Don’t compare yourself to your mother. Don’t take any life lessons from her situation. Trust me, my boy. Everyone- including your mother- would be better off.”
“This is going to drive me crazy,” he muttered, burying his face in his hands.
He heard her laugh softly, more gentle than he usually gave her credit for. “Yes, it is. You’ll never get used to it, but it’s worth it when done right.” She patted the top of his head, standing and heading back into the rest of the house. “Welcome to adulthood, darling.”
***
Turned out they were both really good at forgetting. Or denial.
“So I turn the heat down to simmer... and...” Luke looked back up at Noah. “Now what?”
Noah grinned. “You wait for the sauce to, you know, simmer.”
Luke smacked his arm lightly. “Smartass.” He took a step back as Noah moved towards the stove and expertly ran his hand along the counter, avoiding the burners, and picked up the ladle in the pot, stirring gently. “I’m not trying to be, like, ignorant here or anything, but I really can’t believe you can cook like this.”
His hand paused in stirring. “Like what?”
Realizing where Noah’s thought process was, Luke tried not to stutter or stumble. “Like, with multiple ingredients and more than three steps and complex processes and-”
“Okay, okay,” Noah groaned. “Please don’t mock Blind Wonder Chef.”
Luke snorted. “Please don’t call yourself Blind Wonder Chef.”
Noah chuckled, throwing a dish towel in Luke’s general direction. Luke caught it, joining in on the laugh. He did that a lot around Noah- laugh.
“I can’t do everything, obviously,” Noah said then, his voice softer. His focus on the dish in front of him allowed Luke to inch closer, studying him. “I mean, it’s not like I’m baking soufflés or decorating wedding cakes. I can’t do much of anything with the oven. But I can still use a stove. It takes practice, and some burns sometimes, but I can do it.”
Luke studied him. “You miss it,” he realized gently. Noah looked like he wanted to protest, but just shrugged instead. “I’m completely dysfunctional when it comes to the, well, mental part of cooking, but I have hands and feet,” -and eyes, he didn’t dare say- “so I could help you if you ever want it.”
Noah’s back was to him, stirring the sauce idly, but Luke kept his eyes on the straight, sturdy lines of his neck and shoulders. “Maybe,” came the short answer. “Maybe sometime.” And that was it, he went back to the stove in front of him.
Luke watched in a little bit of wonder as Noah dipped his head, tasted the sauce, and then reached for the closest cabinet. He watched as Noah’s hand counted to the third spice container and pulled it out, fingers dancing across the Braille label. God, Noah had nice hands. A little worn and scarred, but... really nice to look at.
“Okay,” Noah took a pinch of whatever spice it was and dropped it in the sauce, put the container back in the cabinet, and carefully stepped away from the stove. “Should be about twenty minutes before it’s ready. Pasta should be done by that time too.”
“Cool,” he shuffled his feet a little, scuffing one sneaker along the tiled floor. He suddenly stopped and stared at the foot, surprised. He was nervous. That was a tic he’d always had, scuffing his foot.
Why was he nervous?
He glanced at Noah, who was now sitting at the small kitchen table, pulling on the cuffs of his sleeves, pushing them up and down, like he wasn’t sure if he was hot or cold. Luke smiled a little, sat down in the chair next to him. “This is another reason I don’t like cooking. I’m not good at waiting.”
Noah crooked at eyebrow in his direction. “I’m really so surprised by that,” he replied, voice dry.
“Shut up,” Luke went to smack him again, but his hand stayed on Noah’s arm for just a second too long. Just long enough to feel the arm underneath the flannel. The muscle. Just long enough to wonder what it looked like. What it felt like to-
“Okay, I have to do this now or I never will.” Noah was suddenly standing, reaching out for the counter so he knew how far he could go.
“Do... what?” Luke frowned, worried that Noah had felt that extra second too and was freaked out, maybe was about to ask him to leave and never come back.
Noah visibly braced himself, took a deep breath, and let it out. Luke absolutely did not look at the way his chest rose and fell, stretching the t-shirt he was wearing. “I like you, Luke.”
“That’s, that’s great.” Luke would’ve probably understood that sentence better if his heart wasn’t pounding so hard, distracting him.
“No, Luke. I mean,” he smiled for a second. “It’s great, yeah. But not just ‘hey, you’re my buddy’ like. I, um, like you.” He rolled his eyes at himself. “And I can’t help it. We hang out all the time, but it’s like... like it’s not ever enough, you know?”
Luke did know. And didn’t. Or didn’t want to. “Noah...”
“I believe in being honest,” Noah barreled on. “I don’t have much, but I have that. And so I have to. Tell you, I mean. I have to tell you that I’m attracted to you.” He shrugged, scrunching up one side of his face. “There it is.”
Luke’s heart was still way too loud. “I...” he shook his head, cleared his throat. “You’re attracted to me.” He wasn’t sure if he was asking or repeating.
“Yeah,” Noah’s voice stayed on just this side of cracking.
“You think I’m...?” he didn’t know how he was going to end that sentence, he really didn’t. He wasn’t really sure what he was saying. Not many people had ever just flat-out told him something like this. Not even Reid. “Not annoying?”
“I think you’re beautiful,” came the soft response. Noah was facing away from him slightly, body turned towards the stove. And the door, like an escape route.
Luke shuddered a little at that, letting himself react physically because he knew it wouldn’t be seen. Speaking of... “But you don’t know what I look like,” he mumbled without really thinking.
Noah looked somewhere between wanting to laugh and wanting to run. “I’d like to think it can be based on more than just that,” his voice was still so quiet. “I like the way I feel around you. I don’t think I’ve ever felt it before.” His face darkened for a second, memories passing through that Luke had no hope of understanding, before Noah faced him again. “Me. I... feel like me.”
Luke bit his lip to keep the sigh-gasp from escaping. God. “Me too,” he admitted in a whisper.
Noah rubbed at his forehead. “But I can’t. Shouldn’t,” he tried to explain. “God knows I don’t want to be attached to anyone like that again-” again? - “and you’re with someone, and I’ve always been better at being alone. I don’t know how to be-”
This time Luke cut him off with a hand on his arm. He had no idea when he had stood up and joined Noah by the counter, but there he was. With a hand on Noah’s arm. The same arm he had felt earlier. The same muscle.
The same thoughts.
“Noah,” he said, much calmer than he probably should be.
Noah hung his head. “I’m sorry.”
He’d never seen Noah look so unsure before. “Noah,” he said again. Noah lifted his head just a little, biting the inside of his cheek. And Luke stopped thinking, instincts pushing him forward to meet Noah’s mouth with his own. It was soft, tentative, at first, and Noah pulled back in surprise after a few seconds.
But before Luke could offer any words, even breathe, he was diving back in, and this time the kiss was heavy, was impassioned, was real. For a few moments, the kitchen and the world boiled down to his lips connected with Noah’s, to the way Noah’s mouth opened to his, how those hands he had been admiring were now gently framing his face.
Good. God.
He’d never been kissed like this before. Like he was something... precious, something to be taken care of. With Reid, it was always either full-on, battling passion or quick on-my-way-out-the-door kisses. Reid always said he’d been taken care of enough in his life, he was an adult now, it wasn’t a boyfriend’s job to do that anymore.
Reid. Boyfriend. Shit.
“Wait, wait,” Luke pulled back (not too quickly), trying to refill his lungs with air. He stared at Noah, at his still closed eyes and still partially puckered lips and almost kissed him again. “Fuck, we have to... we...”
“I-” Noah stuttered right along with him. Neither of them seemed to know what to do or say.
Luke realized he was almost shaking. “I, yeah, I...” he took another step back. He had to. “I’m sorry. I think I need to go.”
“Go?” Noah’s brow creased, and Luke had to take yet another step back to keep himself from reaching up to smooth it away. “Are you-?”
He couldn’t do this right now. “I just, I have to go. I’m sorry.” Please don’t try to stop me, he silently begged. If Noah did... he wasn’t sure whether he’d leave or not.
Noah looked so sad, but just as unsettled as Luke felt. “Okay,” he finally said. “I’m sorry too.”
"Please don't be sorry." He didn't know why he said it, but he had to. And he should've said something more too. Something. Anything. But instead he turned and stumbled out of the apartment, leaving behind Noah and that damn sauce still waiting to simmer.
***
And made it a whole thirty-three hours before running into Noah again.
Luke stopped short, almost immediately blushing, when he walked out of Reid’s office and nearly into Noah’s chest. “Um. Hey.”
“Luke?” Noah looked just as uncomfortable. “Hey.”
There was a beat of silence between them, awkward for the first time ever. Luke bit the inside of his cheek nervously. “So, what are you doing here? Are you-” he tried to hide the sudden flash of panic. “Are you here to see Reid? For some reason?” For some unrelated-to-me-God-I-hope-so reason?
“He’s one of my doctors,” Noah said slowly, almost reluctantly. “I’m just here for an appointment, that’s all.”
“He’s what?” Luke couldn’t do much more than stare, wondering if (hoping) he had heard wrong. “Doctor?”
Noah nodded, tilting his head a little in the office’s direction as if listening for anyone else around. Then he turned his attention to Luke again. “The reason I fell, hurt my shoulder last year? I didn’t just trip and fall like some hapless blind guy. I...” he stopped, took a deep breath.
“Noah,” Luke said softly, hopefully steadily. You can tell me. Though why on earth would Noah trust him?
Yet for some strange reason, he apparently did. “There’s a block- a clot- in my brain,” he said so matter-of-factly. “From my accident. They couldn’t fix me up all the way, there was bleeding-” he cut himself off, then turned back to him again. “I get seizures sometimes. Not bad ones, but, you know...” he gestured to the direction of Reid’s office. “I see a doctor.”
“Seizures?” Luke didn’t squeak. He didn’t. “You, you’re-” he shook his head to wake himself up. “Are you okay?”
And for a second, Noah smiled. Beautiful. Sweet. Not yours. “I’m fine,” he assured. “It’s not life-threatening. I just have to keep it monitored and stuff.”
“Are you going to get better? Get it fixed?” Luke almost demanded.
Noah just smiled again. “I’m fine, Luke,” he repeated, brushing Luke’s shoulder gently as he walked past him.
It wasn’t until Noah was inside the office that Luke realized Noah never really answered the question. And it was several minutes after that, as he was reaching for the door of his car, that he realized he’d left his keys with Reid. Great.
There was a more-than-brief hesitation before he finally knocked on the door, easing it open, trying to keep his voice perfectly casual. “Reid? I think I left my-”
Reid wasn’t there, just Noah. Just Noah, perched on the edge of the exam table that took up one corner of Reid’s office, changing into a hospital-issued-scrubs shirt. Just Noah, chest bare and arms stretched as he pulled free of his sleeves. Just Noah. That was it.
Luke swallowed hard. Because, well, damn.
Did Noah really have no idea that he looked like this? No fucking wonder Mason always looked like he wanted to jump him. Hidden underneath far too many layers of shirts, Noah was... okay, the word ‘fuckable’ came to mind, but that was only because Luke’s brain wasn’t working to its full strength. Not overly muscular, but well-defined, slim and toned. Jesus. It almost wasn’t fair.
“Hello?” Noah was frowning in his direction, guarded and shy. His hands moved halfway to the scrubs shirt, as though undecided on whether to grab the shirt and put it on or just cross his arms to cover up.
Luke kinda hoped for the latter. Because arms. “It’s m-” Did Noah know him well enough by now to recognize his voice? “It’s Luke. I left my keys in here, sorry.”
“Oh,” Noah swallowed in much the same way Luke had. “Okay.” Luke watched as his face went shuttered, closed off, and the scrubs shirt was pulled close to him like a shield. “He went to get my test results,” he answered the question Luke hadn’t asked.
“Oh, okay,” Luke could only repeat Noah’s words back to him. He cleared his throat, tore his eyes away (chest, collar bone, abs, arms) and moved to Reid’s desk, finding his keys. By the time he turned back around, the scrubs shirt was on and Noah’s face was even more distant than it had been before. It looked like it did whenever he talked about his past, his accident. Whenever he was hiding.
Luke couldn’t believe that it actually hurt to see.
“Luke. Um, we...” Noah bit his lip, and Luke forced himself not to remember what those lips tasted like. “We need to talk about what happened the other day.”
“Yeah, I guess we do.” He took a few steps closer, but made sure to stay a safe distance away.
Safe enough for both of them.
Noah squared his shoulders, in that way he did whenever he was being decisive. “I’m- I’m not sorry I said what I said. I stand by it.” And just as Luke’s heart pounded at that (which was dumb, because he shouldn’t want Noah to want him), Noah continued. “But I think it would be best- for both of us- if we forget it happened. Everything that happened.”
And just as quickly, that confusing hope in him died. Oh. “That’s probably a good idea,” he said quickly, to cover his hesitancy. And if Noah maybe flinched a little at that, Luke decided not to acknowledge it. “I’m-” a mess “-with Reid. Who’s your doctor. And you’re my friend, and I don’t want-” to screw you up “-to risk ruining our friendship like that.”
“Yeah,” Noah’s voice was so soft now, Luke couldn’t tell if he was relieved or sad or both or neither. Which, if you mixed all those in a pot together, was how he was feeling right now. “I guess it’s not worth the risk.”
He breathed deeply around a sudden, illogical pain to his chest. Strangely, possibly stupidly, he found himself moving closer to Noah, as though to kiss him again. His hand reached out, centimeters away from Noah’s unsuspecting face, when the door opened. Luke jumped back, and Noah frowned at the sudden noise so close to him, confused.
“All right, Mr. Mayer, your latest results pretty much confirm what I-” Reid looked up from the chart, surprised. Maybe even, already, a little suspicious. “Luke?”
Luke threw a smile onto his face hastily, holding up his keys. “Forgot my keys,” he explained, stepping between both of them to reach the door. He practically fled out of the office and back to his car and, against all logic, the only question in his head was, Why would Noah want to forget that I kissed him?
CONTINUE ON TO CHAPTER 3