Work Text:
“I still think we need a love song— you know, a little ballad palate cleanser to slow it down a bit mid-set…” Julie says as she pours over their newest setlist.
She and Luke had cobbled it together over breakfast just that morning. Right after Flynn had texted to say The Troubadour’s booker had called to ask if the band was available to play a last minute opening act slot in just a few day’s time.
The gig offers hand’t stopped pouring in since Julie and the Phantoms had played The Orpheum a couple of months ago, though rehearsals and writing time had gotten a bit trickier to schedule in now that he, Alex, and Reggie were properly alive. Mostly due to the fact that Ray had insisted on the three of them enrolling back in school. Agreeing had been a no-brainer for Luke and the guys. Especially given that it was one of just a few non-negotiable rules that Julie’s dad had laid out for them in exchange for more or less adopting them, and letting them (officially) move in.
It had taken a bit of finessing, but the four of them had figured out how to make it work in no time. Flynn had been a huge help on that front, seamlessly stepping in to take over everything from booking requests, to keeping the band’s ever-growing list of social media accounts freshly updated. The other added benefit of handing off the managerial stuff to Flynn is that it freed up a lot of time for the band to practice and, more importantly, for Luke and Julie to lose themselves in their frequent song writing sessions.
“It’s too bad Trevor Wilson recorded ‘Long Weekend’…” Julie continues absentmindedly. As though realizing what she’d just said aloud, she flicks her eyes toward Lukes before she cautiously continues. “I think I remember you saying you’d originally meant for it to be played slower?”
Luke scoffs over the reminder of what Bobby had done, but he gives Julie a nod of confirmation nevertheless. They’ve got an arsenal of fantastic new songs now— and they’ve never sounded better thanks to Julie. But Luke suspects he’ll always harbor a bit of bitterness over knowing the songs he’d poured his heart and soul into had been stolen without a second thought by someone he’d once considered a friend.
“Wait! ‘Long Weekend’? Really?” Reggie asks, pausing from restringing his bass— the only thing holding them up from getting a move on with practicing. “But that’s not even a love song.”
“It isn’t?” Julie asks in surprise. “I could have sworn I heard him say it was a love song in an interview once.”
“Nah, I mean, he might’ve. But Bobby doesn’t know shit— he wasn’t even there when I wrote it,” Luke grits out as he removes the guitar pick from between his teeth. He takes a deep breath, his voice taking on a much softer tone as he turns toward Julie so he can better explain. “I guess maybe in a way it sort of is? But it’s less about being in love with a person, and more about being in love with life and the people that make life worth living.”
“It’s actually kind of funny you thought Luke would have written a love song in the 90s though,” Reggie continues.
“What, was Sunset Swerve too cool and tough for silly love songs or something?” Julie deadpans through a playful roll of her eyes. Seeing that Reggie’s nearly done stringing his bass up, she sets their setlist down on the coffee table before moving to take her place behind the keyboard so they can start practicing.
“Definitely not!” Reggie crows. “It’s just that, the only time Luke’s ever written a love song in his life is after we came back as ghosts and he fell in love with yo—oof!”
The rest of what Reggie had been about to say cuts off abruptly when Alex gives his ribs a pointed prod with one of his drumsticks, but despite Alex’s best efforts, he’s a little too late.
There’s no mistaking what Reggie had been seconds away from saying, and Luke can see it in the recognition that lights in Julie’s wide brown eyes. He doesn’t get to see the rest of her reaction though, because she quickly tears her eyes away from his, coughing awkwardly as she stares pointedly at the keys in front of her. And Luke feels the tips of his ears burn, likely turning about as red as the flush that works its way across the apple’s of Julie’s cheeks. A flush she’s clearly trying her best to ignore as she shoots him a small smile before making a big show of getting band practice started.
Luke’s body doesn’t even feel like his anymore as he does his best to follow her lead, and get on with playing through their set. It’s not that he’s upset about the fact that Julie knows he’s in love with her After all, it wasn’t a secret Luke had planned on keeping forever. It’s just that he’d always thought he’d be the one to tell her when the time was right.
He never expected her to find out because Reggie hadn’t had the hindsight to keep his mouth shut. And as he stumbles through one of the worst band practices of his life, Luke has a hard time deciding what’s worse: the fact Julie clearly wants to pretend like nothing’s changed, or the fact that he has to pretend like she doesn’t know. Perhaps the worst part is that Luke knows he’ll follow her lead no matter how much it kills him. They’ve been doing this dance for so long he knows the steps by heart. But it’s harder to keep from tripping over his own two feet— to keep pretending like they’re nothing more than friends— when all his cards are laid out on the table for better or for worse.
Most afternoons, band practice flies by far too quick for Luke’s liking, but tonight it feels like pulling teeth. He’s all too happy when Alex finally calls it, blaming it on having to finish up a history report even though everyone knows he’d finished that report weeks ago.
He’s making careful work of putting his guitar away, going back and forth over whether or not to pull an Alex and and call it a night under the guise of needing to hit the books, when a warm hand falls on his shoulder.
“You got a sec?” Julie asks.
Luke chances a glance around the studio only to find that Alex and Reggie have already made themselves scarce. And then there’s nothing left for him to do but nod.
“‘Course, Boss,” he replies lightly. “What’s up?”
He’d been going for casual, but he fails the moment Julie quirks an eyebrow up in his direction. Luke’s shoulders slump and he exhales deeply, bracing himself to say his piece.
“Listen, Julie, I’m not sorry he said it, because it’s true— you’re the only person I’ve ever been in love with in my entire life— the only person I’d ever want to write a love song for. But I am sorry if knowing that makes you uncomfortable,” Luke rambles. “You’re my best friend, you know that, don’t you? And nothing has to change between us if you don’t want it to. If— if you don’t feel the same way I do.”
“Are you serious?” Julie asks, staring at him as though he’s grown an extra head. “I’ve had a crush on you for as long as I can remember— why wouldn’t I want you to feel the way you feel?”
“Really?” The question slips out before Luke can stop it, his voice breathless and full of wonder.
Julie Molina is everything he’s ever wished for. The only thing he’s ever wanted more than the indescribable feeling that goes hand-in-hand with sending your music out into the world, and forging a connection with anyone who might find it on the other end. But never in his wildest dreams did Luke ever think he’d be given the chance to love her the way he’s been wanting to: loudly, ardently, honestly, and with the fierce sense of unbridled devotion she deserves.
He’d always thought Julie was done making his dreams come true. Giving him and the boys another shot at playing again— and, more importantly, a second shot at living— is more than he ever could have hoped for. Arguably more than he feels like he’s deserving of some days. But here she was standing before him, turning his world upside down in the most incredible way, and granting his heart another wish.
“You couldn’t tell?” She asks. “I thought everyone knew. Flynn says I might as well be walking around with a neon sign that says, I’m in love with Luke Patterson.”
Luke’s had a lot of time to think about how he might tell Julie that he’s in love with her, but he never thought she’d beat him to the punch. It’s as if every word in the English language has been completely wiped from his memory— every word except for the handful she’d just hit him with:
‘I’m in love with Luke Patterson.’
Six simple words playing on loop in his head in a perfect replica of Julie’s voice. It was like the most beautiful broken record in existence. A record Luke thinks he’d be all too happy to keep spinning for the rest of his days.
“I…you’re gonna have to give me a minute here, Jules— I think you broke my brain a little bit,” he confesses, cheeks aching from the wide smile that’s taken up permanent residence on his face.
“You don’t have to say anything,” Julie starts, inching toward him. “In fact, I think you shouldn’t say anything at all. I think that you should just kiss me instead.”
And god, does he want to.
Luke’s long since lost track of the number of times he’d wanted to kiss Julie but couldn’t. Lost track of how many times he’s caught himself fantasizing about the feel of his lips on hers. Dreaming of whether she’d taste rich like the coffee she drinks at all hours of the day, or sweet like the mango chapstick he can smell whenever she gets too close. Wondering how she’d like to be kissed if given a choice— if she’d prefer for him to kiss her soft and slow, or with a passion to rival that of their fiery chemistry on stage.
Her last step brings them toe-to-toe and then, Julie’s running her palms up the planes of his chest, her hands eventually finding purchase on his shoulders. She tilts her chin up a fraction of an inch, a warm and inviting smile playing on her lips as she patiently waits for Luke to bridge the gap.
He wants so badly for their first kiss to be perfect for her, and maybe that’s why it’s far too easy for a small seed of doubt to plant itself in his head.
What if the build up is better than the kiss itself?
What if they kiss and it’s awful?
What if he’s awful at it and Julie never wants to kiss him again?
The meager amount of rational thought he’s still got left is doing its best to remind him that he’s kissed girls before. But that small voice isn’t strong enough to combat the much louder one that keeps insisting this is different.
Julie isn’t just some other girl— she’s so much more than that. She means more to him than anyone else ever has before, and he knows that to be true in his head, and in his heart, and with every fiber of his being.
“Unless of course…you don’t want to…?” Julie asks, breaking him free of his racing thoughts.
He knows he takes too long to respond when he sees her smile falter, and when her grip on his shoulders starts to lax.
“No!” Luke says quickly, hands shooting out and landing on her waist to halt her retreat.
She’s only taken a single step back, but it still feels like she’s too far away. So he lets his hands skim down the exposed skin of her midriff, following the trail of goosebumps that rises up to meet his fingertips until they reach the top of her jeans. Hooking his fingers into her belt loops, he gives her a gentle tug, and Julie takes the hint, stepping back into him.
“I want to,” he rasps out. “God, Julie, you don’t know how bad I want to— how long I’ve wanted to…it’s just….”
There’s something about Julie that’s always made it easy for Luke to wear his heart on his sleeve. Something about her that’s always made him feel like it’s safe for him to lay his soul bare for her to read like an open book. Maybe that’s why giving his heart away to Julie had felt as easy as breathing once Luke had come to realize resistance was useless.
Looking back, he realizes it would have been far more romantic to lead with that. But he’s never been able to keep his cool around Julie for long, and it soon becomes apparent that that isn’t about to change just because they’re finally clear about being on the same page.
“It’s just…well, you know, I was dead for twenty-five years— that’s a long time to go without kissing anyone—“
The melodic sound of her giggling cuts him off, and the hold he’s got in her waist tightens when she tosses her head back in amusement.
“Jules…”
“Luke. You do remember that none of you even realized you’d been dead for twenty-five years until I googled you, right?” She asks. “I specifically remember you saying it felt like you three were only in that weird dark room for like, an hour.”
“It still counts-- it’s still twenty-five years on paper…” he grumbles.
“You’re ridiculous.”
He can hear the affection coloring her voice, and he can see it in the warm smile she bestows upon him as she slips her hands around his neck, and slides her fingers up into the hair at the back of his head. Slowly, Julie guides his face down, and Luke’s heart skips a beat when the tip of his nose brushes hers.
“But what if I forgot how?” He whispers.
“Then we’ll figure it out together,” she assures him.
Luke doesn’t get another word in after that, though its not for lack of trying. There’s another “what if” posed on the tip of his tongue, but he forgets about all his doubts the moment Julie swiftly lifts up onto her toes and kisses him.
She’s steering for the both of them for as long as it takes for his brain to catch up with his body. But then Luke comes alive under the feel of her nipping at his bottom lip, one hand sliding more firmly around her waist to draw her closer, while the other slips up to cradle her jaw so he can tilt her face up and better slot their mouths together.
He’d never made it to heaven the first time he’d died, but Luke’s pretty sure this must be it. Because how could anything be better than the taste of her lips? How could anything ever top the feel of her small, soft body pressed up against his own? How could anything ever compare to the sound of the gasp she lets out when his mouth drifts away from hers only so he can press an open mouthed kiss to the underside of her jaw.
His name leaves her lips in a reedy, drawn out sigh as he continues his exploration, and Luke knows in that moment that he’ll spend the rest of his life trying to coax that sound out of her over and over again.
“I think it’s safe to say you definitely remember how to kiss,” she says, voice hitching on the last few words when his teeth teasingly scrap against her pulse point.
“I dunno, Boss, I think I might still be a bit rusty…” he says, grinning into her neck.
“Twenty-five years is a long time…” Julie hums, giving his hair a playful tug as she draws his face back up to hers. “Better practice a bit more on me then. You know, just to make sure you’ve got it down…”
Luke’s never been good at saying no to Julie— he’d figure out a way to give her the moon if she asked for it. But as he lowers his lips to hers for the second time that afternoon, he counts his lucky stars that this is one request he’s all too happy to comply with.