Disclaimer: Sadly, they're not mine!
Lorelai laughs as they fall onto the bed, and Luke can't help but join in her laughter. As she smiles up at him, she wonders why she has never noticed the musical quality of the sound, ringing through the bland hotel room air and vibrating against her chest with the pounding heart she can feel through the cotton of his shirt. Surely she has heard him laugh before, one morning at the diner making fun of Kirk or even mocking her. But she's never really heard him; not like this. The realization surprises her, and suddenly she wonders how long two people can go through life listening to each other without really hearing anything.
Thinking of all she could have missed had she never heard this wonderful sound draws up a pang of emotion, and suddenly all she wants to do is kiss him again, to taste his mouth against hers. He obviously feels it too, because they are kissing again, a hot, delightful tangle of teeth and tongues. He whispers her name as he pulls away and it really is like she's hearing it for the first time. It, too, is such a wonderful sound and she wants to tell him so, but he's reaching for the zipper on her pants now and she knows before too long she won't be able to speak or hear or taste, only feel. And perhaps that is what surprises her the most, how much Luke can make her feel.
This is not the first time, or even the second time that they have met like this. In fact, they have both lost track of the number of times she has walked into the diner and ordered her food, leaving behind a scribbled room number on her check and a room key hidden under a pile of bills. And while neither particularly cares for the impersonal setting of their rendezvous, they have become accustomed to it. It is a habit that they aren't willing to break; it has become easy to carry on strictly behind closed doors, without nosy neighbors or small-town gossips to take pleasure in what isn't rightfully theirs. At the very least, their situation is convenient, with Lorelai always having some reason or another to need to go to the inn, even if it is getting harder and harder for Luke to think up excuses to give to Caesar at the diner. But he gets the impression Caesar doesn't really care what he does or where he goes, so the past couple of times he's just left without explanation; so far, Caesar hasn't asked any questions.
And while Lorelai knows that they won't be able to keep their relationship a secret forever, she kind of likes knowing this side of Luke that only she gets to see. Secretly, she is afraid that once everyone finds out about them, he will hurry back inside himself like the groundhog who flees from the sight of his own shadow, determined to hide from the world. But then again, sometimes she can't help but want a little more than clandestine meetings in a hotel room, even if it is a nice one. And always, after they've made love and he's stroking her hair, there's the horrible feeling of guilt to deal with. She shouldn't be lying to Rory about this, her conscience tells her, and suddenly she wants to make it up to her daughter by running out and telling the whole world.
This time is no different. As they cuddle against each other under the blankets, she feels sated and guilty and giddy and confused all at the same time, and she doesn't know what to do about any of it, so she just leans up and kisses him long and hard. They pull away, and he looks so serious, as if he can see into her soul, so she takes a shot at tickling him to lighten the mood. And then there's that wonderful laugh again as he half-heartedly tries to fight her roaming fingers, and she wonders to herself how she ever could have wanted more.
It's only as she's slipping her shoes back on that the sense of melancholy sets in, when she realizes that after they leave—separately, of course—the status quo will prevail. She will go to the diner, order coffee, flirt shamelessly with him and go about her day with no signal, no hint, no evidence at all that any of these nights have ever happened.
"Do you ever get the feeling we're just using each other?" she finally asks him. He looks up from where he's leaning against the headboard with his eyes closed, and immediately she sees the cloud of defensiveness draw tight around him.
"What?" he asks, eyes narrowed as he sits up a little straighter. And this annoys her because he should understand her better by now. But she realizes that over the last two months, despite their heated encounters, they really haven't talked at all, at least not beyond the easy banter they enjoy over burgers and coffee.
"For sex," she replies as if it's the most obvious thing in the world.
"What the hell?" he asks, clearly becoming annoyed with her.
"I mean, tonight we're all 'Oh baby' and tomorrow we'll go back to 'Oh, my dryer's broken, can I have coffee?' and I don't know, if previous behavior is any indication it just seems like we'll stay that way until one of us gets horny again." She's babbling now, and she knows it but it's what she does when she's nervous or upset. Hopefully he at least understands that.
"It was your idea to keep our dating secret," he reminds her firmly.
"What dating?" she exclaims, turning to face him. "Luke, dating involves two people actually going out together and doing things—talking to each other, being with each other."
"We talked last week when I was over to fix the sink in your bathroom!"
"It's not the same, and you know it. 'Friendly' house calls don't count. This," she gestures between them, "is not dating. You're not my boyfriend, you're my…fuck buddy," she exclaims before closing her eyes and taking a deep breath. She tries to compose herself as she turns to gather her things for her purse. He's not Mr. Emotion and she knows it, but somewhere deep inside her tells her that if he really wanted all of her, he'd at least make some type of effort.
"Look, I don't know what you want from me, Lorelai!" Anger, confusion and defensiveness are not a good combination for him; he's never been good at controlling his temper.
"I want…more," she finally says, her voice lowered. She feels her stomach drop as she realizes that he's probably mad enough to end the whole thing right here. But he doesn't say anything, just sighs loudly and leans forward with his head in his hands.
"So you want to tell people about us," he finally says softly, so softly she almost doesn't hear him.
"That's not the point, Luke." She slips out of the room before he has a chance to respond.
Lorelai doesn't sleep at all that night, but somehow makes it through the next day on her own coffee. She makes it through the next four days, actually, and since she hasn't heard from Luke she assumes that her diner days are over and that this substandard coffee will, out of necessity, become a way of life.
Rory is starting to get suspicious at her mother's blatant avoidance of Luke's, that much Lorelai knows, but so far it's not been discussed in the Gilmore household. Until the morning Rory comes out of her room to again find coffee grinds on the top of the trash. She grabs a cup of coffee and a Pop-Tart and sits at the table where Lorelai is skimming the Lifestyles section of the newspaper.
"Mom?" she asks and Lorelai looks up with a forced smile. "What happened with you and Luke?"
"Nothing," Lorelai responds as if her daughter is crazy but can't quite look her in the eye.
"I know you guys had a fight," Rory says as she fiddles with the edge of the newspaper.
"Oh, sweetie, don't worry about it. We'll work it out." Lorelai is surprised at how confident she sounds as she flashes her daughter another smile. Rory is quiet for a long time after that as they sit at the table with their Pop-Tarts.
"It's about Jess, isn't it? That he keeps coming and leaving?" Rory finally asks and Lorelai's heart breaks a little inside that her daughter feels she has any blame in this situation.
"No, sweetie, it isn't. I promise." Rory looks unconvinced but she drops the subject and yet another day goes by without seeing Luke.
It's been almost a week since the night at the inn when Luke shows up on her doorstep. Rory is still at work fact-checking at the paper and Lorelai is sifting through takeout menus when she looks out the kitchen door and sees his silhouette. She opens the door before he even has a chance to knock. "Luke, what-"
"We need to talk," he says gruffly, and she can tell he's trying to cover the emotion in his voice.
"Um, okay," she stammers. "Come in."
She watches as he paces the kitchen several times. Finally, he stops and turns to her. "I don't want to lose you," he blurts out and she's stunned, even though she knows she shouldn't be; he's never been a man of many words.
"Then don't," she replies, and she knows it sounds bitchy but damn it, she's angry with him! She turns back to her takeout menus without registering the look on his face.
"Lorelai, look at me," he pleads, and she can hear the hint of desperation in his voice. "Please, look at me." She turns to face him, leaning against the table with arms crossed. She knows she's walking a thin line, but the only way to actually hear what he thinks is to make him angry.
"I'm just…I'm not good at this," he says, gesturing between them. "Dating," he explains further at her blank expression. "Dating is for two people who want to get to know each other better. It's a time to figure out if you want to spend more time with that person. I already know I want to spend more time with you, so what's the point?"
"No, Luke. Dating is also for two people who care about each other to actually spend more time together. And there's a lot you still don't know about me," she adds gently, reminding him that this is a whole new aspect of their relationship.
"But I want to," he says, and his voice has lowered. "I mean it. I may not say the right thing, or do the right thing, but that's just me. I really do want to be with you," he assures her, stepping toward her cautiously.
She smiles a little at his admission. "Me too," she says softly and steps into his embrace. He wraps his arms around her and she buries her head in his shoulder, breathing him in.
"I've missed you this week," he mumbles into her hair and she pulls away to smile at him.
"Good," she says playfully. "I've missed you too. Especially your coffee. Rory was convinced we could never go to the diner again," she laughs but Luke suddenly looks serious.
"So you told her about us?" he asks, a hint of a smile at the corner of his mouth.
"No, but I will." She smiles and pulls at his hand, leaving her explanation at that. "So you want to watch a movie?"
"That depends," he says carefully. "How much trouble was I in?"
"Oh, it's going to be painful," she assures him with her devilish smile. "I'm thinking Molly Ringwald marathon."
He lets out a good-hearted groan but follows her into the living room. She pops a tape into the VCR and curls up on the couch next to him. He drapes his arm around her shoulder and decides that she was right after all.