rising from the ground

Title: unspoken in silence
Author: freakykat
Rating: NC-17
Word Count: 4575
Beta: Thanks to escapes for her beta skills of awesome.
Pairing: Luke/Noah
Disclaimer: This is fake. Do not sue me. I own nothing.
Kink: silence
Notes: For my dearest Mayah who squees with me about boys from Oakdale, boys from Camelot, men from England and nerdy boys from movies about other nerdy boys. I love you so very much. ♥ So, here, smutty boys for ju!!!! Title from Kris Allen's "Bring It Back."

Fill in for kink_bingo card's prompt: silence.




unspoken in silence


Noah sips the lukewarm champagne, gives a half-interested smile to the passing waiter and turns back to give his undivided attention to Mr. Phelps – one of his best investors to date. He hates this part of the business. All the schmoozing that goes into it usually leaves him tired and a little bit hollow. But he understands, on that intellectual level, that it's part of the process. It allows him to do what he loves.

That's always been the reason that counted.

He tries to pay attention to the self-important details Mr. Phelps is telling him, ignores the way his gaze takes in Noah's length from head to foot. He thinks it says a lot that he no longer finds the need to run tail when that happens. He smiles indulgently and doesn't acknowledge it. Eventually Phelps always gets the message, anyway.

Noah feels the back of his neck flush, knows someone is looking at him. Nothing new there either but there's something familiar about it. He nods as Phelps moves away to try his luck with Drake. Noah gives his director a wry smile, laughs when he rolls his eyes and puts on a fake smile.

He can't say he isn't relieved.

Inching toward the open bar, Noah discreetly looks around the room from his peripheral, trying to figure out who it is that was staring a hole into the back of his head. There's movement in the corner and he swings his gaze over, freezes and blinks a few times. He deposits the glass in his hand on the bar slowly and turns completely toward the opposite end of the room.

He thinks he might have had one too many but he hadn't drank anything stronger than champagne. One glass.

One glass shouldn't be enough for hallucinations.

The voice in his head – that sounds scarily like Casey – makes a point of suggesting that maybe Phelps had drugged him to make his move.

It's probably sad that Noah prefers that option rather than the idea that Luke Snyder really is standing less than twenty feet away from him.

Almost as if saying his name in his head caused it, Luke turns and pauses mid-word when he sees Noah. He recovers quickly, though, and continues with whatever he was saying, his gaze staying on Noah as he speaks. Noah hears the soft laughter from the group Luke is addressing and refrains from rolling his eyes.

Luke was always better at crowds than Noah.

He takes a sip of his drink, watches Luke’s mouth curve up in that familiarly exasperated smirk, the corners of his eyes crinkling with amusement at whatever the tall man -- he thinks it might be Drew -- is saying back. Noah’s gaze fall to Luke’s hands, fingers rolling the glass of water slowly and he gets a flash of those hands on his skin.

He closes his eyes and tries to breath evenly. The room feels like it’s getting smaller and he needs space, somewhere that doesn’t have Luke in it. He opens his eyes to find Luke watching intently.

Noah turns on his heels and heads out and away into the garden.

--

The end wasn’t as dramatic as everyone thinks. They didn’t scream or throw objects at each other. It had been quiet actually. A whimper instead of the bang that a relationship like there’s should have had. Luke wanted someone else. It was that simple. They had been so young when they met and everything with them had always been so nownownow, so overwhelming and too much, too fast, all consuming.

He understood Luke needed something…less.

So, they broke up.

It was Luke afterwards that brought them to where they were.

Noah ceased to exist.

And that had been…difficult.

He’d been invisible his whole life and then one day, there was Luke and light and air and Noah’s world was bigger, better. He was important. He meant something to someone.

Going back to being a ghost had hurt.

(He still appreciates Casey’s theory that it was Luke’s way of coping with their decision. That he needed to pretend Noah wasn’t there because then he’d have to compare and doing that would show that his choice had been the wrong one.

Noah almost believed him.)

He left Oakdale and hadn’t contacted Luke for two years. On purpose. Noah doesn’t think it was a very mature reaction but he still doesn’t care. He was angry. He had a right to express it.

It took Luke a long time to realize that Noah was ignoring his existence. Noah is pretty sure that the fact he still called the Snyders frequently and kept in contact with his siblings finally clued him in.

A year and a half after he’d moved to L.A, he received an email from Luke.

Noah deleted it without reading it.

He did the same for the twenty that followed.

The letter he got in the mail went straight to the trash. (He yelled at Casey for having given Luke his address.)

Noah had almost caved after the first voicemail but he’d pressed four for erase and had his assistant (he was really glad he had one of those now) take care of any others that appeared.

After six months of constant non-stop badgering, everything stopped and Noah figured Luke had gotten the hint.

Except apparently he hadn’t because Luke was in L.A. at the fundraiser Noah had organized.

He had no idea what to do with that.

--

The warm California breeze brushes across his overheated skin and causes a shiver to run down Noah’s spine. He attributes it to that, not the fact that Luke is inside, closer than he’s been for too long. Pinching the bridge of his nose, Noah takes in a deep breath, places his drink on the ledge before leaning his arms on it, staring down at the hotel’s expansive gardens.

If he can get ten minutes to control his emotions, he might be able to go back in there and make his exit without attracting too much attention. Drake can deal with the rest of the night on his own.

He closes his eyes, remembering the exercises that his shrink had taught him to ward off any sort of a panic attack. He’d only had one but Dr. Grey was worried they might become more frequent if they weren’t careful. Apparently with his head trauma and everything he’d been through he was a prime candidate. He knew she was surprised he didn’t already have the condition.

Noah’s eyes startle open when he hears the quiet click of the patio door closing.

“You never were very good at hide-and-seek.”

Luke’s voice has that teasing tilt to it, caution in the edges of his words and Noah thinks that should make him feel better to know that Luke is nervous. But it doesn’t. His chest aches at the sound of Luke’s voice, heart beating just that bit faster.

All he wants to do is get the hell out of there.

He feels his muscles tense as Luke moves closer, setting his water next to Noah’s drink and when his first thought is to remove his so Luke doesn’t accidentally drink it, he shakes his head, makes a huffy noise and turns to head back inside.

“I know you’re angry, Noah.”

Ten feet to the door.

“I never meant to hurt you. Why don’t you want to hear that from me?”

Five feet.

“You can’t ignore me for the rest of your life!”

He forgot how loud Luke could get when he was mad enough and he’s two feet from the door, hand outstretched to wrap around the handle.

“You owe me!”

Noah freezes at the door, breathing harsh and noisy in the sudden hush after Luke’s words. He lets his hand fall from the handle but doesn’t look behind him.

“You broke my heart, too, Noah. I think that’s worth you listening to what I have to say.”

He lets his shoulders fall forward. It’s the only sign of ascent he gives and Luke still knows him well enough to understand it.

“Okay. Just -- I don’t even know where to start.”

Noah shuffles closer to the door as a warning.

“Right. I don’t think it’s necessary to rehash our break-up or why - what happened with Reid. It was a decision I had to make. I learned a lot about who I was - or am - and what I wanted for my life.”

He’s counting to ten and then he’s going to leave, go home and pretend this didn’t happen.

“I want you.”

Noah inhales sharply, closes his trembling hand into a fist and resists the urge to punch or maybe kiss Luke hard. The feelings are pretty interchangeable at the moment.

“I got the memo, Noah. You don’t want to talk to me. Maybe it’s too late. But I think -- I have a proposal for you.”

That makes Noah turn his head to stare at Luke, one eyebrow coming up slowly. This should be good.

“If I can make you talk to me, if I can get a response from you, then you’ll give me another chance. A shot at least.”

Noah keeps staring at him.

Luke shrugs and flashes Noah a quick, sad smile. “If I can’t get you to break your silence, Noah, then I promise to leave you in peace.” Luke sticks his hand out and waits for him.

Noah thinks that Luke has lost his mind.

Luke shakes his hand at Noah. “I’ve thought a lot about this, Noah.”

Noah wants to laugh because this is the most ridiculous idea Luke has ever had -- and he’s had a lot of those -- but he looks dead serious. The part of Noah that hates Luke just a little, wants to make him feel as bad as he had, makes him step forward and grasp Luke’s hand. There’s a quick spark when they touch and Noah pulls his hands away quickly.

Luke grins, relieved, eyes lit up as he reaches into his jacket pocket, hands Noah a thin plastic card. “It’s the key to my room upstairs. Twenty-oh-two. Meet me there when you can get away.”

Luke waits for Noah to give him a nod before walking past him, brushing his shoulder against Noah as he heads to the door. He doesn’t look back as he closes it.

Noah stares between the key and the door.

--

It takes Noah almost an hour to make his excuses, say the goodbyes he needs to and fill Drake in on what’s going on.

His friend gives him a curious look when he mentions Luke wanting to talk but doesn’t make any further comments and promises to call Noah first thing in the morning with the results of their hard work.

Noah slips out of the room as fast as he can and heads to the bay of elevators that take guests to their rooms. He doesn’t hurry, mostly because he’s not sure what’s waiting for him and how much strength he has to resist whatever attempts Luke’s going to make to get Noah talking. He can feel himself getting half-hard at the thought.

Noah’s got a pretty good idea what Luke has in mind.

The hotel is beautiful, classic old Hollywood with crystal chandeliers dripping light on the floors, soft carpets that give under his shoes, craved wood and marble. It’s strangely warm for something so elegant and classy. It reminds Noah a little of what Ms. Walsh’s mansion looked like from what he remembers of the handful of times they’d had dinner there. She’d always preferred eating at The Lakeview.

He laughs a little when he realizes that his strategy to keep from giving in to Luke the moment he opens his door is to think about his grandmother. That’s twisted, even for him.

The elevator makes a soft, whirring noise as it ascends and Noah finds himself counting the floors, his fingers clenched tightly on the brass bar behind him. The ding indicating he’s reached the floor comes faster then he expects and it takes him until the doors almost close again to move out of the car and into the hallway. He follows the signs to the room, stands in front of it for a full five minutes before he breathes in and knocks. Luke doesn’t make him wait long and the door opens just a few seconds later.

They stare at each other for a few beats too long until Noah’s face twitches with the need to say something. He pushes past Luke, his gaze skittering over the couch and chairs in the living space. It’s actually more of a suite with a door that he figures goes to the bedroom, a kitchen on the other side of the large, spacious room, a desk that he sees is already littered with papers.

He looks everywhere but directly at his ex-boyfriend because if he does --

Noah is pretty sure he’s going to lose this bet, but damn if he isn’t going down without a fight.

“Did you want something to drink?” Luke finally says after the quiet of the room becomes too heavy and Noah shakes his head as he turns.

Luke smiles, rubs his hands on his thighs as he clears his throat. “I really didn’t think you’d say yes.” His laugh is wobbly, a little rough and it goes straight to Noah’s gut, shoots heat down his legs and he feels his cock twitch in response.

He tilts his head slightly, watches as Luke’s eyes darken when he takes his suit jacket off, rolls his shoulders and looks at Luke, waits.

This is Luke’s show.

Noah isn’t sure what he expects. There are memories he’s never been able to let go off. The desperate heat of Luke’s mouth when he kissed him after a particularly huge fight, the sharp press of fingers digging into the skin of his hips, thighs, arms, teeth biting on hot flesh. Those were as vivid as everything after: the smiles and laughter and comfort that came with having someone you loved completely.

He shakes his head, pushes the thoughts away and when he looks up, Luke isn’t across the room anymore. He’s standing right in front of Noah. He searches Noah’s eyes, bites his lip. His hands come to rest on Noah’s shoulders and he leans up.

Noah stops breathing, waits for that burn, that urgency that he remembers.

Luke’s mouth is warm, soft on Noah’s and his hands move to cup Noah’s face, tilting it so that their lips slant across each other. The gentleness shocks Noah enough that his mouth opens and he catches the moan before it leaves his throat, cuts it off so it only comes out as a silent sigh. Luke takes it as invitation, his own sigh loud as he tastes Noah, licks inside. It’s too much like love and Noah knows why Luke is doing it. It should make him angry, that he wants to manipulate Noah’s feelings, to pretend what isn’t.

All he really feels is home.

Noah palms the back of Luke’s head with one hand, the other one touches Luke’s cheek, trails fingers down until he can grip onto Luke’s jaw.

Luke makes another low sound, right at the back of his throat and Noah wants to feel triumphant but it’s all he can do to stop his own moan. He’s conscious of the effort it’s taking. Kissing is one of his favorite pastimes, mostly with Luke. The almost purr-like noise he makes whenever anyone (mostly Luke) touches him is like an automatic response.

Stopping it turns out to be near impossible and when he catches himself for, at least, the sixth time, he pulls back, rests his head on Luke’s forehead.

Luke’s panting against his chin, the moist air falling onto his skin and Noah closes his eyes, trying to focus on his breathing.

If he can barely contain it when Luke kisses him, there’s no way he can make it through this.

(That part of him that is still in love with Luke, despite the distance and years and pain, makes him want to say fuck it all and give in. Tell Luke he’s willing to let him back in. But his heart. His heart aches at the memory of what it felt like to be left behind, forgotten.

His heart can’t let it go.)

Luke takes a deep breath, guides him quietly toward the couch and Noah shakes his head once before he can think about it. They pause and he meets Luke’s gaze.

Luke gives him a grin, lighting up his face and nods, drops a quick kiss on his mouth. “Okay.”

Noah follows when Luke grabs his hand and guides them to the bedroom, only dropping it when they reach the edge of the mattress. He turns to Noah, rakes his gaze down Noah’s body and it takes all his willpower to stop the shudder that runs through him. His muscles tense with the work it takes to keep from making any noise at all.

He's trembling when Luke stands in front of him, grabs the back of his neck and crushes their mouths together.

It’s like his body takes a moment to reboot and then everything flares up at once. His hands scramble for purchase anywhere on Luke’s skin, his teeth nip at lips, flesh, the tendons on Luke’s neck. Noah chokes off a groan when Luke shivers, cants his hips against Noah and he feels Luke’s hard cock through their clothes.

Somehow he’s managed to keep quiet, Noah doesn’t even know how that’s possible, but he continues to shove all that emotion down into his chest. It hurts to breathe but then Luke’s hands are on his naked skin and he forgets how to.

Noah can’t remember when they lost their clothes but when he looks around he finds them scattered around the room.

Luke shoves him gently and suddenly he’s lying on the bed, the cool sheets brushing across his heated skin. He stares as Luke crawls up toward him, their bodies brushing and aligning everywhere: feet, knees, groins, chests. He watches Luke settle over him, arms bracketing Noah and then he brushes his cheek over Noah’s.

“Stop fighting me, baby.”

Noah closes his eyes, blocks Luke’s voice and words, noses up the side of his jaw before he bits hard on the muscle right underneath. Luke quakes just so and loses his train of thought so Noah does it again, nibbles on his neck until all he can hear is Luke panting, half-groans and mumbled curses.

He never said he’d play fair at this game.

But Luke knows him better than Noah wishes he did and he jerks back, looks into his face before brushing soft kisses on his mouth, once, twice then under his chin to his neck. He sucks on his collarbone and Noah convulses with the need to say something. He grips Luke’s hair hard but doesn’t try to stop him when his mouth moves down. He glances up at Noah before turning his attention back to Noah’s body, licks gently on one nipple, circles his tongue over nub then bites, hard.

Noah feels the prickle of tears at the back of his eyes, his hearts pounds against his ribcage but he only grips harder, hears the happy gasp Luke gives and resist the urge to pull him up, kiss him, touch him, fuck him until it’s Luke who can’t speak.

It’s slow torture the way Luke mouths at the skin on Noah’s stomach, licks around the indentation of his pecs, brushes his lips in the crease between his thigh and groin, stops and nuzzles, actually fucking nuzzles his cock. He’s touching him everywhere, hands skimming over his arms, under his elbows, rubbing circles across his waist, gripping on his hips.

But it’s Luke’s voice, rough and graveled, that is going to undo Noah completely.

“You’re so beautiful. Did I tell you that enough?” He says against Noah’s knee while he rearranges him so he can fit between Noah’s legs

“I never noticed these before.” He kisses the birthmarks on the back of Noah’s leg, licks up until his breath is fanning over Noah’s throbbing cock, spreads him open and watches his face as he grips on the shaft, squeezes. The sounds are trapped in Noah’s chest and it rattles painfully with the need to release them.

“Did you miss me, Noah?” The words fall over Noah’s dick and he wonders if Luke is waiting for him to answer, which he will not, but then Luke wraps his mouth, hot and wet around him, sucks at the head, hums happily as he licks the slit. His other hand finds Luke’s head and he grips harder, pushes his hips up, breathing harsh and stuttered.

It’s not a noise.

He won’t --

Noah looks down, watches Luke’s mouth sliding down, cheeks sunk in and because he has to, because he can’t stop it, he brings one hand up, touches the curve of Luke’s lips, feels the quick swipe of Luke’s tongue. Waves of need rush through him, burst out of his chest and he catches it all in his throat just as Luke takes him deeper.

He can’t actually make any kind of sound right now and he’s grateful, so grateful.

Luke takes him to edge then brings him back down, slows and speeds up in intervals until Noah is trembling uncontrollably, the tears he’d been keeping at bay slipping sideways down his face.

When Luke pulls up and away, Noah’s hands twitch, reaching for him but he’s back before they can and Noah watches Luke pour lube onto his fingers, plentiful enough and then he leans down to kiss Noah, softly. “Relax, baby. Please.”

Noah swallows, hopes his stare is enough of an agreement or that maybe Luke just won’t care to wait for any other sign. They watch each other carefully and then Luke’s hand is at Noah’s opening, breaching with one finger. He gives easily and Noah sees Luke’s brow crease.

He knows that Luke wasn’t expecting him to have been alone forever. But he also understands what it feels like to think of Luke with someone else. If Noah remembers well enough, Luke isn’t happy but he thinks that Luke’s grown up enough to accept it. There’s nothing for him to worry about, really. Noah hasn’t dated often but he hasn’t exactly been celibate.

Another finger pushes in and this time there’s a little more resistance, Noah arches his back, throat working to let loose the release of Luke’s name but before he can, there’s a third finger sliding in and all the thoughts fly out of his head when Luke crooks them just right. He bites down on his lip, feels the break in the skin, the metallic taste of blood and can’t breathe, can’t breathe, can’t breathe…

Luke’s fingers are gone and Noah’s eyes pop open at the emptiness but then he feels Luke grip his waist, pull him forward, arms under his knees and he’s scooting up. Luke’s eyes are dark, hot and just this side of determined. He meets Noah’s stare, licks his lips and then grins suddenly. He shifts, adjusts his position and guides his way into Noah, breaches him in one long, hot slide. “You know I dream about this all the time?”

Noah shuts his eyes at the first press and then Luke moves a little, pulls out slightly then thrusts back in, hits his prostrate and Noah grasps for Luke, wraps hands around his arms and lets out a guttural sound. Luke freezes, head jerking up, damp hair falling over his wide eyes, expression hopeful and Noah shakes his head.

“That -- didn’t -- count.”

Luke’s entire face lights up. He starts to pull out but Noah catches him with his legs, tightens them so he can’t move away.

“You -- does this -- of course it counts! You talked. To me.”

Noah closes his eyes, curses under his breath before opening them to one of Luke’s wide grins.

Okay, fine. He broke. It’s a credit to how stubborn he is that it took this long.

“Luke.” He can barely grit the name out but it makes Luke’s face break out into a bigger smile if it’s possible. He leans down, inches his cock deeper in Noah, elicits another deep moan before kissing Noah’s mouth, hums happily. He doesn’t move far and Noah feels the words against his lips.

“I missed the sound of your voice.” He sinks in slowly and sucks Noah’s gasp into his mouth. He pauses to look at Noah’s face. “I missed that sound you make when I kiss you.” He does that and Noah lets that quiet groan reverberate in his throat. “I missed the way you say my name.”

Noah tries to make Luke move, pushes up and opens his legs wider. “Luke.”

That gets him another smile, another kiss, Luke’s hands stroking the back of his legs, his thighs until Noah can’t take it anymore.

“Tell me.”

“Would you -- Luke, move!”

Luke shakes his head, shifts and slides just that bit more in but stops and looks at him.

Noah is going to kill him.

“Oh, god. Please.” He wraps his legs around Luke’s waist and pulls him in. “Just -- Luke --”

Luke swallows hard, arms trembling from the exertion of holding their weight up. “Say it.”

Noah stares at him and says between pants. “I - did. Luke, come on.” He meets Luke’s eyes, warm and brown, flecks of gold. “Yes. Okay? Just -- baby, please.”

That seems to break something in Luke and he crushes their mouth together, thrusts in hard enough that Noah is shoved back on the bed. He doesn’t break their kiss as he moves inside Noah, deeper, harder, faster, changes the angle and Noah’s head falls back, stars bursting behind his closed eyelids as he comes in ribbons on Luke’s chest. Luke fucks him through his orgasm and a few moments later is following with his own.

Luke collapses on him, peppers the skin he can reach with soft kisses as they try to get their breathing back to normal. Noah’s heart feels too big for his chest. His arms pull Luke in more, sighs when he feels Luke’s mouth at his neck, warm breath falling there.

They lay together, drifting in and out of sleep until the sticky mess on them makes Noah sit half up, Luke still draped over him.

“We should clean up.”

There’s no response and he looks down to see Luke smiling, eyes bright and crinkled as he stares up at Noah.

“You meant it, right?”

Noah laughs quietly, slides a hand through Luke’s insanely mussed hair and nods. “Of course I did. I missed you, too.”

Luke grins, slides up and kisses him, kisses his muttered apologies, lets his own fall into Noah’s mouth. He pulls away, his eyes shining, fingers caressing Noah’s face. “We probably shouldn’t bother getting clean cause I plan to get really dirty with you in a minute.”

It takes Noah a moment to process and then he lets out a startled laugh and pulls Luke down, kisses him hard.

They have time to talk, work things out, figure out a way to be together.

Later.

End.