storypaint (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
storypaint) wrote2008-12-22 08:41 am
storypaint) wrote2008-12-22 08:41 am
You for Christmas (Layton/Luke)
Title: You for Christmas
Prompt: Christmas 2008 theme: Christmas is for lovers; Layton and mistletoe on the Professor Layton (Anon) Fan Meme for![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
sky_pirate_tat
Series: Professor Layton
Character/Pairing: Layton/college!Luke
Rating: G
Wordcount: 512 words
Excerpt: Luke waited for him, as usual, in the lee of the doorway before opening it onto the cold outside. When the professor approached, he noticed an odd flush on his apprentice's face.
Every year Layton tacked the greenery above the door. It was traditional. He bought a small tree and tucked holly into the brim of his hat. Layton loved Christmas. He knew all the verses to carols and he hummed them as he went about his business.
Luke waited for him, as usual, in the lee of the doorway before opening it onto the cold outside. When the professor approached, he noticed an odd flush on his apprentice's face.
He reached up (how Luke had grown these past few years) and pressed the back of his hand to Luke's forehead.
"Are you well?" he asked.
Luke shut his eys and leaned down awkwardly. The professor saw Luke's lips approaching his own and he dodged, pulling his hand back as if he'd been burned.
"Luke?"
Luke stood straight as an arrow as hte flush deepened the color of his face.
"Professor?" he said.
"Luke, what was that about? Were you trying-- trying to--"
Layton couldn't finish the sentence. He simply stared up at his apprentice. How long had it been since he'd honestly looked at Luke? He remembered the little boy who used to dance around his heels, and yet--
Here was a boy-- a man, really-- a university student staying with his old mentor because it was cheaper than living in the dorms. He was surprisingly well-built, in contrast to the skinny professor; the hand he had clutching the brim of his cap, a nervous gesture, was as large as the professor's own hand.
Layton blinked, waiting for an answer to his half-asked question.
"It's mistletoe," Luke said awkwardly. "You know...?"
They both looked up and considered the greenery above their heads.
"But, Luke, I'm--"
"It's not like people--" Luke interrupted. Looking embarrassed, he continued, "I mean, we learned about Socrates, and he..."
Layton's eyes narrowed. "I would never-- little boys--"
"Not like that! It's just..."
Luke moved again and before the professor could react there were dry lips pressed against his forehead. Luke sighed and Layton felt a blush creep onto his own cheeks.
Luke moved back and Layton breathed, wishing he could hide his blush under his scarf.
"I'm not a little boy, Prof-- Hershel," Luke said softly.
"That's almost worse," Layton said, but he didn't resist when Luke kissed him again, this time on his lips. He shut his eyes and just let the boy touch him, to rest a careful hand on his shoulder, to brush at his neck along the edge of the scarf.
The last touch, Luke's fingertips on the side of his neck, provoked a little gasp from the professor. Luke broke the kiss and smiled at him.
"I'm not going home for Christmas break, you know," he said, and it was a fact the professor knew, but the way Luke said it made it seem like something more.
"Right," Layton said, and coughed before he reached around Luke and opened the door onto the street. The cold air was a welcome shock back to conscious thought.
"See you later, Professor!" Luke said cheerfully, darting ahead of his mentor and waving over his shoulder.
"Sure," the professor mumbled, and he walked the cold street to his own first class, deep in thought.
Prompt: Christmas 2008 theme: Christmas is for lovers; Layton and mistletoe on the Professor Layton (Anon) Fan Meme for
sky_pirate_tatSeries: Professor Layton
Character/Pairing: Layton/college!Luke
Rating: G
Wordcount: 512 words
Excerpt: Luke waited for him, as usual, in the lee of the doorway before opening it onto the cold outside. When the professor approached, he noticed an odd flush on his apprentice's face.
Every year Layton tacked the greenery above the door. It was traditional. He bought a small tree and tucked holly into the brim of his hat. Layton loved Christmas. He knew all the verses to carols and he hummed them as he went about his business.
Luke waited for him, as usual, in the lee of the doorway before opening it onto the cold outside. When the professor approached, he noticed an odd flush on his apprentice's face.
He reached up (how Luke had grown these past few years) and pressed the back of his hand to Luke's forehead.
"Are you well?" he asked.
Luke shut his eys and leaned down awkwardly. The professor saw Luke's lips approaching his own and he dodged, pulling his hand back as if he'd been burned.
"Luke?"
Luke stood straight as an arrow as hte flush deepened the color of his face.
"Professor?" he said.
"Luke, what was that about? Were you trying-- trying to--"
Layton couldn't finish the sentence. He simply stared up at his apprentice. How long had it been since he'd honestly looked at Luke? He remembered the little boy who used to dance around his heels, and yet--
Here was a boy-- a man, really-- a university student staying with his old mentor because it was cheaper than living in the dorms. He was surprisingly well-built, in contrast to the skinny professor; the hand he had clutching the brim of his cap, a nervous gesture, was as large as the professor's own hand.
Layton blinked, waiting for an answer to his half-asked question.
"It's mistletoe," Luke said awkwardly. "You know...?"
They both looked up and considered the greenery above their heads.
"But, Luke, I'm--"
"It's not like people--" Luke interrupted. Looking embarrassed, he continued, "I mean, we learned about Socrates, and he..."
Layton's eyes narrowed. "I would never-- little boys--"
"Not like that! It's just..."
Luke moved again and before the professor could react there were dry lips pressed against his forehead. Luke sighed and Layton felt a blush creep onto his own cheeks.
Luke moved back and Layton breathed, wishing he could hide his blush under his scarf.
"I'm not a little boy, Prof-- Hershel," Luke said softly.
"That's almost worse," Layton said, but he didn't resist when Luke kissed him again, this time on his lips. He shut his eyes and just let the boy touch him, to rest a careful hand on his shoulder, to brush at his neck along the edge of the scarf.
The last touch, Luke's fingertips on the side of his neck, provoked a little gasp from the professor. Luke broke the kiss and smiled at him.
"I'm not going home for Christmas break, you know," he said, and it was a fact the professor knew, but the way Luke said it made it seem like something more.
"Right," Layton said, and coughed before he reached around Luke and opened the door onto the street. The cold air was a welcome shock back to conscious thought.
"See you later, Professor!" Luke said cheerfully, darting ahead of his mentor and waving over his shoulder.
"Sure," the professor mumbled, and he walked the cold street to his own first class, deep in thought.