noelleleithefic

Title: Favorite
Author:

noelleleithe
Rating: PG-13
Pairing/Characters: Luke/Noah
Word count: ~840
Disclaimer: I don’t own anything here except my own words. No copyright infringement is intended.

Summary: Their legs tangle, arms wrapped around each other, hands caressing.

Author's note: No particular setting here, so take your pick. Thanks go to the Twitterverse for encouragement. I gave the betas a break on this one, so any errors are mine. :)

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Noah's always so focused. Whether he's studying or working or just looking at Luke (that last one's probably Luke's favorite), he brings his full attention to it. Luke tends to be more easily distracted, mind wandering down convoluted paths that only sometimes circle back around to the task at hand. But one time that Luke almost never gets distracted is when Noah's kissing him. Like now.

They lie stretched out on the sofa, Noah half on top of Luke (Luke's glad for deep cushions that give them room to maneuver), mouths moving in a much-practiced dance. Their legs tangle, arms wrapped around each other, hands caressing, all in unconscious efforts to get even closer than they already are.

Noah's lips are soft pillows of warmth against Luke's, his tongue unfolding into Luke's mouth, tasting of peppermint and mocha (Luke loves that the coffee-tinged flavor never seems to leave him). Noah moves slowly, deliberately, every turn of his head or slide of his hand sending shivers through Luke's body.

Luke opens his eyes (watching Noah kiss him is another favorite pastime), and since Noah's eyes are closed, as they usually are when they're kissing, he stares at Noah's eyelashes, long, dark shadows against his cheeks. It really should be illegal for someone to be as gorgeous as his boyfriend, but Luke certainly isn't complaining.

Noah's mouth breaks away from Luke's but doesn't leave his skin, and Luke lets out a happy little sigh as Noah kisses his way down Luke's chin and along his jawline, tongue darting out to scrape across stubble. Luke turns his head automatically to give Noah better access (he knows exactly where Noah's headed and approves greatly), letting out an involuntary moan when Noah's lips close around his earlobe.

Luke's spent a lot of time with Noah's mouth and hands on him since Noah first turned his considerable ability to focus toward exploring every square inch of Luke's body. Luke knows things about himself he'd never even considered before (who knew toe-sucking could make him come, for God's sake?), like that he can have his ears licked and sucked and played with for hours and never get tired of it. Luckily for him, Noah seems to think his ears are the most delicious things ever and never gets tired of them either.

Luke lets his eyes fall shut and sighs as Noah runs the tip of his tongue around whorls and curves. Warm breath plays across the dampened skin, and Luke shifts his hips, hands tightening against Noah's bare back (Luke's hands had delved under Noah's shirt many long minutes earlier). Noah makes a sound that might just qualify as Luke's favorite, a low, growling moan that burns across every inch of Luke's skin and lights a fire deep in his veins.

Before he realizes it, Luke's grabbing Noah's head with both hands and bringing their mouths back together in a crashing, dirty, messy kiss, all lips and tongues and saliva and sexy little sounds. The sheer variety of noises Noah makes might be the best part about kissing him (Luke knows he could never actually pick just one thing), from sharp inhalations of breath to soft moans at the back of his throat to the deep, desperate growls rumbling in his chest right now.

Luke lifts his leg to hook it high on Noah's hip, pulling him closer, and Noah kisses him even harder (which Luke wouldn't have thought possible, but Noah surprises him every day). Luke opens his mouth wider, pushes his tongue against Noah's, digs his fingers into Noah's shoulders.

He wants Noah. He always wants Noah, so that's nothing new, but he wants so many different things it makes his head spin sometimes. Noah's body touching his tops the list (in every possible form, from legs brushing innocently under the dinner table to the far-from-innocent things they do to each other when they're alone), but right now he just wants this. Bodies entwined, mouths fused, kisses soft and deep and everything in between.

Noah sighs and shudders against him, and he lowers his head to rest on Luke's chest, soft hair brushing Luke's chin. Luke smiles as he gentles his hands and leg against Noah's body, shifting his intent from inflaming to soothing. Noah does this now and then, gets overwhelmed with everything between them (Luke understands all too well), and Luke knows to let him ride it out. He slides a hand into Noah's hair, nails lightly scratching against his scalp, smiling wider as Noah nuzzles closer.

It's only a minute or two later when Noah shifts again, lifting his head, pushing up until his face hovers over Luke's. He lowers his forehead to Luke's, brushing from side to side (the tenderness of the gesture undoes Luke every time), and he smiles, the soft, loving, beautiful smile that follows Luke into his best dreams.

"I love you," Noah murmurs, and Luke doesn't even have to think about that one. Every day, in every way, hearing those words will always be his favorite.