youfeelluckypunk: (that presh face)
SSA Dr. Spencer Reid ([personal profile] youfeelluckypunk) wrote2015-06-15 10:29 am
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[july 12]

It'd happened all too quickly, having barely begun before it was already over, but the incident has left Reid with butterfly stitches at his temple, a bruised cheek, and a headache that hasn't gone away even after taking a hot shower and changing into a shirt that isn't bloodstained. Reid can't blame the man who'd done it; after all, an emotional outburst from Frank Hansen was to be expected when he'd suddenly appeared at the scene of his own wife's death, the sound of his anguished cry echoing between the walls of alley and overpowering the chatter of the crowd behind the crime scene tape.

Clank had tried to stop him, but the strength of a person suffering from a fresh loss is not to be underestimated, and Mr. Hansen had pushed past the tape and Clank and the other officer on duty before reaching Reid. He'd held his hands up in front of him, a calming gesture that never seems to do its job, and had received one punch, then another, then a rough shove into the brick wall to his left for his trouble.

In all honesty, the worst part about this ordeal hadn't even been the forced visit to the hospital. The worst part is that he'd been due at Luke's over an hour ago because it's his friend's birthday, one he'd promised to help celebrate nearly a month ago, and he hadn't wanted to explain via text the reason for why he's late so Reid is sure Luke must be thinking awfully poorly of him right about now.

As soon as he's straightened his tie in the mirror, poked at the tiny bandage strips on his face with a grimace, and patted down his hair for the eight time in the mirror, he rushes out of his apartment while shooting a quick text out to let Luke know he's finally on his way.

He has a wrapped gift in one hand and a cake, an ice cream cake with a wolf in icing on it, a custom request that hadn't gotten him so much as a raised eyebrow, sitting in a bag hanging from the other, and it's well past closing time for the store so Reid goes straight up the stairs and knocks on the door to Luke's apartment. There's a part of him that's worried that Luke has already left his place, already fed up with how late Reid is, but he reminds himself that there's little to no chance of that. They'd made plans and maybe Reid has been called away to a crime scene once or twice already, but Luke keeps agreeing to see him, and they keep having a great time together, all of which contributes to just how much harder Reid has to try to tell himself that he doesn't want to do anything to jeopardize this friendship. Namely, anything that would indicate that what he's been growing to feel for Luke isn't just friendly.

When the door opens, he breathes a silent sigh of relief and smiles, momentarily forgetting what had made him so tardy in the first place. He'd already texted Luke a happy birthday this morning, accompanied by a smiley face that had seemed innocuous enough, but he says it again now as he holds the bag containing the cake up for his friend to see. "Hi. Happy birthday, I'm sorry again that I'm late, I just-- There was this thing that happened at the crime scene, and-- well, obviously, I guess, but anyway... Yeah. Happy birthday."
notaretriever: (014)

[personal profile] notaretriever 2015-06-15 06:45 pm (UTC)(link)
It's nearly half an hour after Reid is supposed to arrive that Luke identifies what he's feeling as anxiety.

They live very different lives, he's understood that right from the beginning, and although he's felt an uncharitable and completely senseless flare of jealousy when Reid has been pulled away from their plans before, Luke has accepted right from the start that their schedules are bound to be different. His job is easy, secure, the schedule never changes, but what Reid does for a living is unpredictable and there's no way for him to know when he might end up at a crime scene. It means Luke has to be a little more accommodating when it comes to the times they see each other and that really doesn't seem like such a hard trade off. He's willing to be flexible if it means they get to carry on with their friendship, especially now that he's identified this warmth growing in his chest as something more than strictly just a friendly feeling. He doesn't know what to make of that, he's never acted on feelings like this before, so for the time being it's just something that's there, building low inside him. He'll take whatever time he can get with Reid, however, and he's excited about the idea of celebrating his birthday with him.

But half an hour after he's supposed to have arrived, Luke hasn't seen him and he hasn't heard from him and he suddenly realized his throat is dry and his chest is tight. What he's feeling isn't irritation that Reid is late, it's genuine fear that something bad may have happened to him and Luke checks his phone for what feels like the fiftieth time before he sets it aside and forces himself to do something else. If another thirty minutes go by without hearing anything, he'll call. That's the decision he makes and instead of letting himself stare at his phone, he leaves it in his small, cozy living room and goes into the kitchen to clean.

It's really unnecessary, his apartment is about as clean as it can possibly get, but it's something he's always done in times of stress. He's always been very neat and today he's even made his bed, which is something he rarely does. Not that he expects them to have any reason to be in his bedroom, but if Reid wants a tour, Luke wants to be sure the entire apartment is in the best shape it can be.

He wipes down the counters again and then dries them with a dish towel that he then folds and hangs neatly on the hanger beside the sink. It's as he's rearranging his coffee mugs that his phone makes a noise to let him know he has a text and when he sees it's from Reid, all he can really do is breathe a sigh of relief. Maybe he's late, but that's fine, just as long as he hasn't been injured or worse. Luke knows the things that creep around this city, he knows all the possibilities, and there's a part of him -- a stupid, irrational part -- that wishes he could just be there with Reid at all times to make sure he's okay.

When he hears the knock he gives himself a second just so it doesn't seem like he's rushing to the door, then he smooths his hands down over his shirt and goes to answer the door. His smile fades when he catches sight of Reid, the bandages at his temple and the bruise on his cheek, and without thinking Luke reaches up, his fingers catching Reid's chin gently before it even occurs to him that his friend doesn't particularly like to be touched. Luke has seen him awkwardly avoid handshakes and he's made careful note of that, has done his best not to initiate touch where it's not welcome, but he isn't thinking of anything but the bruises on Reid's face.

His skin is warm under Luke's fingers and he can feel the light scratch of stubble, and for a second he can't think of a single thing to say. "Sorry," he manages finally, taking a step back to let Reid inside, the distance it puts between them enough to let his hand fall away. "What happened?"
Edited 2015-06-15 18:49 (UTC)
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[personal profile] notaretriever 2015-06-17 02:44 pm (UTC)(link)
Reid says it's okay and at first Luke thinks he's talking about the bruises on his face. He already has his mouth open to argue that of course it's not okay, it's not at all okay that he's been hurt when he realizes Reid is talking about the way Luke had touched him and his mouth snaps shut with an almost comedic sound. Being a werewolf has its advantages, not the least of which is being able to sense the subtle changes in a person's body when their mood shifts. Luke has heard the slightly increased heart rate when people have tried to shake Reid's hand, he's felt the way something in Reid just sort of shifts one way or the other, trying to find away around the unwelcome touch and although he does his best not to use his abilities when they might not be welcome, he does it almost without thinking now. Reid is smiling, he's saying he doesn't bite, and Luke smiles in response to that, but there it is. That telltale sign of his heart beating just a little faster.

This time, though, Luke doesn't know if it's because he's uncomfortable or for some other reason. He knows every time he's anywhere near Reid, his own heart begins to pick up. He knows his chest tightens with nerves and his hands grow clammy just as his throat goes dry. The last time he'd felt anything like this had been the night he'd met Alaric for the first time and there are times when Luke still wonders why he hadn't made more of an effort there. His feelings had been returned, he's sure of it, but there had been Jocelyn to consider. Always Jocelyn. Ever the unintentional roadblock in his life. She never would have wanted him to put off finding someone he could care about, but he hadn't been able to help it. Seeing her every day had always made it difficult for him to see anyone else, but she isn't here.

With Mindy, he had thought he simply wasn't prepared to move on, but it's more than that. They hadn't been right for each other, they're only meant to be friends, but he had thought it was still Jocelyn getting in the way. She isn't. She never has. He's allowed her to because he'd been holding onto a hope he long since should have let go and the more time that passes, the more he realizes just how unfair he's been to them both. To give her his friendship in that manner, always waiting for her, he can't imagine the incredible pressure that had placed on her. And to refuse to allow himself to feel anything else in hopes she might one day change her mind had been just as damaging.

It's time for him to move on. He's ready. And all he can do is hope he isn't going to mess any of this up too badly. All he can do is hope Reid might be interested in the same.

Luke smiles again and closes the door gently behind Reid before he leads him over to the small kitchen. It's spotless with the exception of the dish rag and he narrows his eyes at it before he snatches it up and folds it carefully over the tap to let it dry. "Here," he says, opening the freezer for Reid to put the cake inside and he can't pretend he doesn't feel a little flutter of pleasure knowing he's brought something just for him. For his birthday. No one has ever done something like this before, not someone he's felt himself very rapidly developing feelings for. "Do you need some ice for your face? I make an excellent ice pack."
notaretriever: (024)

[personal profile] notaretriever 2015-06-19 03:17 pm (UTC)(link)
What would be preferable is a stele and an iratze traced on Reid's skin, but Luke hasn't held a stele in a long time and mundanes aren't to be Marked regardless. The idea that it might kill them has never sat well with Luke, he's never been sure if he truly believes it, but he's also never been willing to take the risk. A part of him suspects the idea that a rune will kill a mundane has been placed in the mythos of the Nephilim just to keep them thinking they're special. Better. Despite having grown up as one, despite going to training, having his own Marks, his own Shadowhunter gear, Luke's been away from the Shadow World long enough to have some distance and to realize all the flaws that exist within it. The pressure they put on children is incredible; the arrogance they instill in them is somehow worse. He hadn't agreed with all of Jocelyn's choices when it came to keeping Clary away from the rest of the Shadowhunters, but he's grateful every day that she hadn't been brought up in that world. There's no denying that it changes people and not always for the better.

"So now I have to impress you with my ice pack making skills," Luke says with a soft huff of laughter as he retrieves the tray from the freezer. It's not the sort of talent one usually brags about, but the fact is that he has gotten very good at it over the years. Shadowhunters have their healing runes and werewolves heal quick enough that they usually don't need anything of the sort, but as children, before they'd been allowed to use steles and Mark each other, they'd still had to train. And Luke had often been the one helping Amatis heal when she would return home from a particularly brutal afternoon of physical training.

The memory comes as a bit of a surprise and Luke's hands shake for a moment as he puts several ice cubes into a bag. For the most part, he tries not to think of Amatis too often. It still hurts, the echo of her final words to him. Valentine told me to kill myself, he'd said to her and she had looked at him, so cold, so empty. Her eyes had been blank and she had said, Maybe that would be the best thing. It's hard to separate that memory from all the others, but he does his best to think of his sister in the years before he'd been turned. The way she'd taken care of him and the way, in return, he'd done his best to care for her.

He misses her. Every single day, he feels his sister's absence and he doesn't imagine that will ever change.

Carefully, he crushes the cubes in the bag using his cookie jar. It's empty now, he hasn't really had a reason to fill it, but it's useful enough for tasks such as these. Then he disappears into the hall long enough to find a soft, clean wash cloth in the linen closet, which he then wraps around the bag of crushed ice before offering it to Reid. "See if that passes the test," he says, smiling. "And come sit down. Tell me what happened."
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[personal profile] notaretriever 2015-06-21 08:22 pm (UTC)(link)
Luke is about to suggest vampires when Reid tells him not to and so he bites down on his lower lip and keeps it to himself. It sounds like vampires, though, even if that's not what Reid wants to hear and Luke makes a note to check it out as best he can. People have been talking a little bit about vampires lately, how some of them seem to be getting a little more aggressive than they've been in the past and he doesn't know if that's something to do with Darrow or if there's something bigger at play, but if even the law enforcement officials are noticing something strange is going on in the city, he's willing to bet it's going to get worse before it gets any better. And the thought of Reid out there with vampires makes him nervous. It makes Luke's stomach turn over uncomfortably as he considers all the possible endings for a case with a vampire as the culprit. He doesn't fool himself into thinking what Reid does is easy by any means, but if he's going to take on a psychopath, at least there's always the guarantee that he or she will still die like any other human. At the end of the day, a human criminal is still human, no matter how broken they are on the inside. A vampire, though, isn't susceptible to the same injuries that a human would be. Reid's gun wouldn't do a thing against one and while Luke has never had any particular problem with the vampires in his world, he knows they're not bound by the same laws here. A vampire in Darrow doesn't have to worry about breaking the law and having the Clave come after them.

It makes him nervous, thinking of Reid trying to deal with someone like that. Someone like Camille, perhaps, who has always followed the laws, but who Luke also knows is capable of so much damage and so much bloodshed. Vampires, like warlocks, live long enough to learn how to manipulate almost any situation they find themselves in and while they're not all terrible, while he can point to Simon as an example of a vampire who wants so badly to be good, there's still danger there. Too much danger.

"Please don't throw confetti at me," Luke requests with a smile, tilting his head so he can look at Reid's cheek. He wants to reach out and gently lift the ice pack so he can check on the state of the swelling, but even though Reid had told him it was okay earlier, he's still a little cautious when it comes to touching him without being invited. It's been made fairly clear to him through watching Reid interact with other people that he's not exceptionally comfortable with casual touching and while he's said the words to make Luke thinks it's okay, he's still uncertain. How much of that has to do with his own insecurities, he doesn't really know, but he imagines it's not a small amount. It isn't as if Jocelyn had spent all their time together rejecting him, he thinks their friendship had remained fairly strong despite his proposal and her gentle attempt at letting him down. He had never asked again, but he remembers moments, little instances throughout the years that had always made it very clear that her feelings hadn't changed. He would reach for something for her at the same time she would, their fingers would brush and she would jerk her hand back as if his touch burned her. She would catch him looking at her every now and then, and her brow would crease before she glanced away quickly, as if she didn't want him to know she had seen.

In the end, it all amounts to tiny rejections every day. And while Luke thinks he'd weathered them rather well, all things considered, it isn't something he'd like to repeat ever again. That's why he had never indicated to Alaric that there might be a chance to explore something more. It's why he's sitting here with Reid, unable to reach out and touch him like he wants to, and it's why he's letting himself focus on what Reid has said about the woman's husband. How he wasn't surprised she had died, just angry.

There are certain lives in which one might live in that sort of fear every day. Certainly he and Jocelyn had been on edge for a long time. Neither of them had ever been convinced that Valentine was really dead and discovering that he'd come for her and the cup, discovering that she was in a coma and Valentine was still out there hadn't entirely surprised Luke. He'd been angry, he'd been desperate to do anything in his power to protect Clary, but he hadn't been particularly surprised and on that level, at least, he thinks he can understand this Mr. Hansen. Sometimes the things that seem like they should be the most unexpected really aren't.

"It's alright," he continues. "If you want to talk about it, I'm happy to be here for you to bounce ideas off of. I know I'm not exactly a law enforcement official, but I have experience in... that other aspect of it that you've asked me not to say." He's smiling as he speaks, unable to help himself, not because anything is particularly funny, but because he just likes being with Reid. He likes spending time with him, he likes listening to him speak and if Reid wants to talk about what happened, he'll be more than happy to just listen, even if it is his birthday. It's not as if he's ever done anything particularly special and this is already significantly better than some of the birthdays he's spent more or less alone.
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[personal profile] notaretriever 2015-06-24 02:58 pm (UTC)(link)
You don't. That's what Luke wants to say. He wants to tell Reid what he does is leave it alone, forget he ever saw it. He wants to be able to send a message to one of the Institutes, he wants them to call in the Clave or even the Praetor. Anyone who's able to deal with rogue Downworlders, anyone who has been trained in how to dispatch a vampire, anyone who isn't Reid. Luke has long grown used to the idea that the people he cares about will be put in danger; for a very long time he had thought he would die before seeing thirty simply because so many Shadowhunters did. Even being turned into a werewolf hadn't done much to dispel that feeling, not when he had taken over a pack as large as the one in Idris, not when he was constantly a target for wolves who wanted to prove themselves, wolves who wanted to be the leader of his pack. It was only leaving Idris and finally settling in Manhattan that had changed the way Luke looks at the future and he wonders if maybe it's all worn off. Maybe he's so worried about the idea of Reid getting caught up in anything to do with vampires not because he's not Nephilim, but because Luke isn't. Because he's so far removed from that life now that the very idea of the people he cares about being in danger is something he's forgotten.

But instead of saying that, instead of asking Reid not to get involved or telling him he can't -- because Luke already has a fairly good idea of how well that might go over -- he mulls over the question thoughtfully. It's different here in Darrow in a lot of ways, but it can't be entirely dissimilar. For the most part it seems like the vampire population has been relatively quiet until recently and Luke doesn't know what it might be that's shaken them up, but things like this usually don't happen without a reason. Vampires can and often do feed without killing, many of them with powerful abilities to compel their victims to forget the attack has happened at all, so to kill people outright and to leave their bodies in such obvious locations speaks to something bigger than just simple hunger. He doesn't know the politics in Darrow, but he has a feeling this is bigger than it might seem.

"Where I'm from there are laws in place to prevent vampires or werewolves from killing," he says carefully. "They're not enforced by police officers and that's... I don't want to say that's a problem, but it does raise some roadblocks. Regular officers aren't trained to fight vampires. They're incredibly strong, much faster than regular humans and difficult to kill, which puts people in increased levels of danger when they're not expecting it." And it makes him incredibly aware of just how vulnerable Reid is. Even just sitting here next to him, Luke is terribly aware of the steady beat of his heart, the delicate pulse in the hollow of his throat. It's right there under the surface of his skin, so easily accessible to any sort of creature that might want to spill his blood and Luke has to draw in a deep, steadying breath.

"I know you can't have me with you when you're working, but if there's any time when you think you might... when a danger like that might be present, please call me," Luke says, then smiles again, a faint, shy expression. "Before you rush headlong into a vampire's next, preferably." Being a werewolf doesn't make him a vampire hunter, but between his increased strength and being trained as a Shadowhunter, he's more than capable. He wants to be there if Reid needs him, he wants to be able to keep him safe, and he knows such a thing isn't truly possible, that there will always be dangers in this world and any other they may find themselves in, but at least he can offer this is nothing else. To be there if he ever needs to face down something other than human.

"The thing with vampires is that they're still very much like humans in a lot of ways, especially when they're young," he says. "They can be very stupid, but they can also be brilliant. They can be cold and calculating, or they can be like you would expect any regular person to be. The older they get, the more wrapped up they become in their world's politics and the more likely they are to make a stand when challenged. A show of force. Being a vampire doesn't necessarily make them evil, but it does make them strong and fast and anyone who lives for hundreds of years gets bored eventually."
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[personal profile] notaretriever 2015-06-28 02:59 pm (UTC)(link)
The remark that he'll be the first person Reid calls gets a smile out of Luke and he knows it just an indication that he's the first friend Reid has made in Darrow, he knows better than to try and read into it any further than that, but at the same time it warms his heart and does something to relieve the tension that's been building in his shoulders. Protecting everyone is an absurd, lofty goal and yet it's one Luke has never been able to let go. Being a Shadowhunter meant having that goal ingrained in every moment, every battle, every decision. Protecting the world from a demon invasion meant literally protecting everyone and while Luke has many disagreements over the way the Clave has run and their antiquated system of laws, he does believe they're doing far more good than harm. They have to adjust their way of thinking if they want to come out of Valentine's war alive -- and there will be a war, one he won't participate in because he's here in Darrow instead of back there with them. There will be a war and if they don't change how they look at Downworlders, if they refuse to learn to not only tolerate them, but accept them as warriors in their own rights, he's afraid the Clave really will fall. And then there will be no one left to protect the world.

Protecting the world is too grand a goal for him here in Darrow, but he can protect those he's close to, those he cares about. He can protect the people who matter, starting with Reid, and if he's done well enough to have convinced the other man to call him directly should he ever need help, then Luke thinks he's accomplished exactly what he set out to do. And when Reid lowers the ice pack and the skin around his eye does look a little less swollen, Luke feels better still. He reaches out for the damp cloth, intending to take it into the kitchen and wring it out, because he can't imagine it will be of much use to Reid now that the ice has nearly melted and there's cake to be had as well.

"I'm sure I won't hate it," Luke says and he doesn't know how he's so sure, but he is. Perhaps it's been less than two months, but Reid has come to know him fairly well and that isn't only due to being a profiler and being able to understand Luke and his motivations in a way many people can't simply because they haven't had the training. Luke has been willing to share things with Reid that he hasn't always shared with others and it isn't because he doesn't trust them, but because he's been offered a place in which he feels comfortable. They spend so much time in the store instead of out doing other things and it's because of that, because they often find themselves surrounded by familiar books and shelves, a place Luke has put together piece by piece until it's reminded him or something special and personal that he's always found it so easy to just say things to Reid without worrying much one way or the other how they might be received. Because for all Reid's training, Luke has a few things on his side as well. That he can sense the changes in Reid's body certainly helps, but besides that, when it comes to his daily interactions, Reid is easily read. He doesn't try to hide things, for better or worse, he is exactly the man he is and Luke has found him very easy to read. That, too, makes him comfortable.

"I also hear gifts and cake go very well together," he says as they return to the kitchen. For the moment he leaves the melting ice pack in the sink and while he would normally clean it up immediately, he doesn't want to make Reid stand here and watch while his kitchen gets another entire wipe down. He'll worry about it later, because right now he's spending time with someone who's willing to celebrate his birthday with him and he can't remember the last time he's had that. Clary and Simon have always done their best, they've always made sure they remember, that he has something to open, but it's different with them. They're incredible, lovely children, but they're still children. It's nice to think he might have an adult in his life now who cares enough to give him a quiet birthday celebration.

"Should I open the gift first?" he asks, but before he even finishes asks, he's already pulling back edges of the silvery paper. Since it's his birthday, he doesn't think he needs to wait for permission, especially since there's only one person here with him, only one gift, and Luke has another playful comment on his tongue before he reveals the sculpture and his words seem to all but dry up. It's beautiful and he already knows exactly where it needs to go, but more than that, it's personal. It means something to the two of them and Luke's mind feels like it's both stopped processing information altogether and is going a mile a minute. The night at the amusement park had been a strange one, but it's also the night he feels they'd really become friends. Reid had been willing to listen to him, to take in everything he'd said and accept it. Believe it. For a man who is so rooted in science and reality in so many ways, Luke had appreciated that more than he'd been able to say.

The night means a lot to him. And he thinks this is the most beautiful reminder of that he could possibly receive.

"It's perfect," he says finally, then laughs and picks it up gently. "Come with me."

The apartment isn't particularly large, but he goes down the hall to the small office just beside his bedroom. The other two spare rooms are shut up, their doors closed, and he hopes to one day have use for them, but until now he's just readied one with things Clary might like. Just in case. His office, though, isn't decorated yet and he crosses to his mostly bare desk and puts the ferris wheel at one side. Exactly where it looks like it belongs.
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[personal profile] notaretriever 2015-06-30 01:12 am (UTC)(link)
More than anything else in the world, Luke wants to tell Reid he's the one who's been sending the notes, but he isn't sure if he'd even be able to shape the words. He considers saying it, admitting they've been from him, he even considers telling Reid he has two others already prepared, waiting to be sent at the right moment, but he can't. Something inside him freezes up, makes him choke on the words, drags them back down inside of him. Telling him is the right thing to do and yet Luke can't fathom actually doing it, because to admit it's him that's been sending the poetry is to put himself out there and open himself up to the possibility of rejection. It's all part of life, he tries to tell himself, but that doesn't make it any easier. Whenever Luke thinks of telling Reid what he's been feeling, he remembers the night he'd found Jocelyn, the way it had felt to hold her hands between his, her fingers long and thin, painter's hands. He remembers looking at her, feeling certain about something for the first time in his life, and he remembers telling her he'd do anything to keep her safe. To keep Clary safe. He remembers the words that had come out of his mouth -- I'll marry you, Jocelyn, I'll be your husband. -- and the devastation he'd felt when she had slowly untangled her fingers from his.

It isn't fair to compare everything to that moment, but he's never forgotten it. It's one of the most vivid memories he has, the way it had felt, like his heart wasn't breaking, exactly, but slowly crumpling inside his chest. He's never felt anything else like that, not even on the day she had married Valentine, and while there's a part of Luke that very much believes he wants to be loved again, there's a bigger part of him that is too afraid of rejection to give himself the chance. And it isn't fair. It isn't fair to either of them. He's been sending the poetry and if he isn't prepared to admit he's been the one doing it, then he's being as unfair to Reid as he is himself. If he can't be the sort of man he wants to be, if he can't step up and admit to his feelings, he shouldn't be offering them in the first place, even in an anonymous manner. It's cowardly and it's shameful and he knows he's not going to stop. Not until he finds in himself the strength to face the possibility of rejection all over again.

But he has to say something. He can't just leave that statement hanging in the air without a response and when he turns back from the ferris wheel, he's fairly certain his smile looks genuine. "That's a lovely poem," he says and his voice doesn't sound terribly strangled. In fact, if he were looking and listening to himself from the outside, Luke is fairly certain everything would appear as normal as it possibly can. It doesn't look or sound as if his heart is racing in his chest and unless he reaches out to touch Reid, there's no way he would be able to tell how badly Luke's hands are suddenly shaking. Everything that's been said to him right now screams of acceptance, tells him he wouldn't be so callously brushed off if he admitted he was the one sending the poems, but even still, he can't bring himself to do it. Fear and embarrassment still stop the words in his throat.

Anything he says now will sound dismissive and he doesn't want that either. This is an act he clearly hadn't thought through and now he's wondering what had possessed him. What silly, mindless part of him had thought this was a good idea when he's long since accepted he's never going to be the one to find someone who wants to be with him? He's accepted who he is, the man he's meant to be, the one who stands by Jocelyn, who loves her, who waits for her, but never expects anything of her. Never asks. And even if he's decided he's capable of moving on, there's nothing to have assumed that Reid might be interested in being the person he would move on with. There's been no suggestion of returned feelings, no encouragement that he might continue to send the poems.

He suddenly feels terribly stupid and like a very bad friend.

"One of my favourites," he adds, then nods back toward the living room. "There's still that cake, isn't there?" And he feels even worse. Like he's pretending not to have heard what Reid has said even though he's already memorized the words, even though they've already carved out a place in his chest and curled up there, resting and waiting for him to take them out again when he's alone later and examine them for deeper meaning.
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[personal profile] notaretriever 2015-07-01 01:14 am (UTC)(link)
For one terrifying, nearly heart stopping moment, Luke thinks Reid knows. He thinks Reid has seen him dropping the notes into the mailbox or he's had someone else tell him, because the way he says Luke's name like that, heavy and meaningful, it's not just about cake. He says his name and Luke is certain he's going to gently ask him not to send any more poems. He's going to smile, not with any pity, he's not like that, but gently. Kindly. He's going to thank Luke for sending them, telling him the notes are beautiful, but that he can't possibly return his feelings. They're only meant to be friends. The poetry is sweet, but it's too much. It feels like he's being pressured and that's the last thing in the world Luke wants to do. That's how he had felt with Jocelyn, like he was pressing on her, putting too many expectations on her, and sometimes he's afraid he's damaged their friendship beyond repair. He's afraid she had let him stay because Clary loved him so much, but the weight of his love had been too much. Maybe they haven't really been friends at all, maybe he's been imagining it all these years, hoping for something that doesn't exist.

And he doesn't want to risk that with Reid. Over the course of his life, Luke has lost so many people and when he finds ones that are he cares about, people he knows can become important to them, the fear comes back. He's going to lose them. They're going to leave him. Worse, they're going to ask him to leave. It isn't fair to expect the same awful reactions from the people who have so far proven to be quite kind, but it's hard to undo years of betrayal. He's thirty-eight years old and now and then he has the insecurities of a fourteen-year-old.

So he's preparing himself for it when Reid says his name, but then suddenly he's talking about the cake and Luke's lips part, almost in surprise. "No," he says, then laughs. "I mean... yes, I would love to be able to see them, have them here to celebrate with me, but being here with you is... it's more than enough. It's been a long time since I've had a friend to celebrate my birthday with." There's Jocelyn, of course, but the more time he spends thinking about her lately, the more he's come to realize he was never that good a friend to her, after all. There's no one in the world he knows as well as he does Jocelyn, but knowing someone well doesn't necessarily mean he was as good a friend as he would have liked to be. And he wants to do better here. He wants to try harder for the people he cares about. He wants to be a good friend and not just someone who does nice things in hopes they might change the way a person feels about him.

But he also never wants Reid to doubt that they are friends. He never once wants him to think that he isn't having a good time or that he doesn't want him around.

"Are you much of a singer?" he asks as they return to the kitchen. He's watching Reid as they walk through the apartment, watching the way he moves, the look on his face when he glances over his shoulder. Luke can't help but smile at him in return and he feels the way his heart picks up a little, the way it feels like his skin is prickling all over with heat. "Because I am not, so if you start to sing, you'll be entirely on your own. There is nothing in this world that can get me to sing, not even the promise of cake." And yet that's not entirely true. If certain people asked him to, if Reid asked him to, he would probably muddle through any song he wanted.
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[personal profile] notaretriever 2015-07-02 03:50 pm (UTC)(link)
"No, go ahead," Luke says, gesturing at the freezer with one hand as he uses the other to open a cupboard for plates. He wants Reid to feel comfortable here, he realizes, and although he likes people, he's relatively good at making friends, he doesn't invite many people up to his apartment. It isn't due to any desire to keep people away from the more intimate parts of his life, it's mostly just because he isn't here very often, either working in the store or somewhere out in the city, but he knows that there are a few people who know they're welcome here and he would very much like Reid to be one of those people. He wants him to be comfortable, he wants him to feel free to open the fridge or go through the kitchen cupboards in order to find a glass. Sharing his home with people has always been a way for Luke to connect to them and he very much would like to do that here. "If you get the cake, I'll get us plates and forks. There are knives in the drawer beside the sink there."

And as he gets out utensils, he watches Reid, listening to him as he speaks and by the time Reid is singing the first few bars of the birthday song, Luke finds he's grinning, unable to help himself. Reid has been like this right from the start, filled with fascinating information Luke would have only ever been able to guess at, with statistics and numbers and studies to back up the things he's saying, which is a trait Luke respects more than he can possibly say. A good number of people seem to think as long as they say it, their information can be taken as fact, but Reid always has a way to verify what he's said, and Luke thinks that's a respectable, interesting trait. Not one many people seem to share. Valentine had always been of the view that his opinion was fact and it's rubbed Luke the wrong way ever since then.

"Oh, no," he says, shaking his head as he puts down the plates and holds up his hands in a defensive gesture, even though he's laughing at the same time. "No, now you really do sound like Clary and Simon." Who had tried to entice him to one of Eric's poetry readings more than once, who had tried to convince him going to Pandemonium would be good for him, who had tried desperately to talk him into getting up on stage when they had once accidentally attended a karaoke night in town when they had been up at his farm. "There is absolutely no hope of you ever getting me on stage. Not even for your birthday, I'm terribly sorry to say. I'll find you some other present, but not that. Not unless you'd like the better part of Darrow to be rendered completely useless when I shatter their eardrums."

And he waits for it with a little grin, wondering if Reid is going to take the bait. He'd used the turn of phrase on purpose, the expression of shattering their eardrums, knowing actually shattering them is utterly impossible. They can be ruptured or punctured and he knows especially loud noises can be capable of doing it, but shattering is not the right word, and Luke's singing would never be able of doing it. He wants Reid to correct him in a way, he wants to be told why he's not quite right in what he's just said and it's a strange sort of thing to crave, but he loves it. He really just enjoys listening to Reid speak. About anything.

It's so painfully obvious to him now just how hard he's fallen, but everything still feels like it's just out of his reach. He doesn't know what to do with this, but he knows that he doesn't want any of it to stop. One day he'll figure out what to do, but until then this is where he wants to be. Nowhere else.
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[personal profile] notaretriever 2015-07-06 08:21 pm (UTC)(link)
"Maybe a little," Luke admits with a smile. "But only because I do enjoy hearing all the things you know." And that one was rather simple, he thinks, the sort of thing many people know, but he doesn't imagine all that many of them would have said something and it isn't that he thinks Reid is predictable, but that he very much likes the way he responds to things. It shows a level of inquisitiveness not many people possess, and a willingness to be himself when Luke imagines others may have asked him to stop or at least go a little easy. He'd been that way when he was younger, he and Hodge together, the two of them always better with history and demons and languages than with their weapons. They had been the two students to most often correct the others in class, the ones more likely to tell Valentine when he had identified a demon wrong or suggest to Robert that maybe the dates he was recalling weren't quite right.

They hadn't exactly been well-loved because of it. Luke remembers well enough how often Robert had rolled his eyes at the two of them and they had only ever escaped without a physical altercation because they were both under Valentine's protection. He loved them in his way and so others were forced to love them, too. It's not the sort of love Luke thinks anyone should have to bear and he tries not to let the memories of that time creep in. Not tonight, not when it's his birthday and the decision to join Valentine and the Circle is officially two decades in the past. Not when he's here with a friend, someone who cares enough to have brought him a cake and a present, someone whose company he enjoys.

Someone who inspires the sort of feelings in him he'd long thought were over. Valentine has no place here. He has no place in Luke's life whatsoever and day by day he thinks he's taking the right steps toward forever undoing any hold his former best friend may still have on him. A parabatai is not a bond so easily undone. There are Shadowhunters who die of despair when their parabatai falls in battle and Luke felt the severing of that bond more keenly than he'd felt anything before, but it's been a long time now. The wound has healed, even if the scar is jagged and uneven.

"An explosion or my singing..." Luke shakes his head as he retrieves the utensils from the drawer and sets them out on the counter alongside the plates. "I'm actually not sure which would be preferable. With all the strange and crazy things that have happened in my life, I have to admit that explosions have never been all that common. I suppose demons have no use for dynamite." It's a joke, even if it's a bit of a silly one, but now that he's thought about it, it's always been interesting that the types of altercations Shadowhunters endure are fairly limited. Within the boundaries of Idris, magic prevents gunpowder from igniting, so it makes sense they're not used there, but he knows out in the world things are different. It does make him wonder why rouge Downworlders or even the angry Fair Folk don't use guns.

When Reid sets the cake down on the counter, his grin grows wider and then he laughs, shaking his head. "It's much better than a clown," he agrees, leaning closer to get a better look at the wolf done in icing. He wonders what the cake maker thought of it, if maybe they didn't think of it at all. It can't be the most unusual design they've ever had requested.

It makes him laugh, though, to see a little icing wolf on his birthday cake. More than that, it makes him feel good. Accepted. Reid isn't trying to ignore what he is or pretend it doesn't exist. He's acknowledging that the wolf is a part of Luke, a part of his friend, and there's no undoing it.
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[personal profile] notaretriever 2015-07-12 01:52 am (UTC)(link)
"A handful of explosions," Luke echoes as he takes the plate from Reid and digs into the cake. He eats more than a regular man, he's always known that, but he does his best not to just devour things when he's eating in front of other people. Needing more protein than a regular person is just one more thing he's grown used to over the years, but he knows it isn't the sort of thing most people are used to seeing and if he and Reid are going to be friends -- or more, his mind tries to insist, even as he pushes it away -- then that's just one more thing he'll have to introduce to him slowly. His life is so different in so many ways and for the first time in a very long time he wants to be able to share that with someone. It means letting someone in on the things he's kept to himself for a very long time, little secrets he's held onto, things he's been afraid to share. He isn't quite so afraid anymore and he mostly doesn't know what to make of it, but it feels nice. It's something he thinks he's been missing for a long time.

Once Reid has a piece of the cake for himself, Luke covers the cake again and returns it to the freezer so it doesn't turn into soup as he's suggested, then nods toward the couch once he's picked up his plate again. The couch had come with the space above the store, as much of the furniture had, and while it's not exactly the most stylish, it's worn and comfortable, and he sinks down on one end, leaving sufficient room for Reid if he doesn't want to sit right next to Luke. So much of the time he feels like he's floundering, trying to figure out where to stand, where to sit, how to conduct himself around Reid without giving away too much of what he's feeling, and there are times when he wonders if he should just let himself relax. If maybe it wouldn't be such a terrible thing for Reid to understand how he feels, but he just doesn't know how to do that. He toes the line between too much and too little.

"While you plot ways to get me to sing something to you, you should tell me about some of these explosions," he says, sitting back on the couch as he takes his first bite of cake. It's been a long time since anyone has done something like this for him and he hums softly, clearly enjoying the cake. This is all he could have hoped for on a day like today. He's missing home and Clary more than he usually does, he keeps thinking about what things would have been like this year, if they would have even acknowledged the passage of time with everything else that had been going on, but he knows she would have done something special for him anyway. Even if it had only been a cupcake from his favourite bakery in a box waiting for him on the counter when he arrived in the morning, she would have done something to mark the day, and having someone here willing to do the same means a lot to him. It makes him feel a little less alone, a little less homesick.

"Consider it an extension of my birthday present," he says, grinning before he takes another mouthful of the cake. It's good cake, cool and creamy, and his smile softens a little as he looks at Reid. He'd meant what he had said, that he likes listening to him talk, and even if he is one of the few, he thinks that's the loss of everyone else who's had the opportunity and hasn't taken it. People are a vast wealth of stories and information, things they're able to share, and Reid knows what he's talking about, he speaks well and clearly, he draws people in. At least, he's drawn Luke in and he supposes that's really the only thing he needs to be considering here.

"I know your job was dangerous, I... I completely understand what that's like, that it isn't something to be romanticized, but I think about all the stories you must have and I just want to hear them," he admits, feeling faintly embarrassed to find himself still speaking. "They're not like my life at all, they're so completely different from anything I've ever known."
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[personal profile] notaretriever 2015-07-16 05:00 pm (UTC)(link)
"Well, you already got me a ferris wheel," he teases softly, pleased that Reid is sitting closer to him than to the other end of the couch. It's a dangerous thing to be pleased by, he realizes, something he should probably just let go. Having someone simply sit next to him isn't cause to read into anything, but Reid is here, close enough that Luke can feel the heat coming off his body, close enough for Luke to smell, and for the most part he very much likes being a werewolf, he's found the abilities he's gained to be more a help than a hindrance, but there are moments when it's difficult. Moments like this, when every nerve in his body is humming with energy, when every instinct is telling him to lean closer, to just sway a little bit, a simple shift of his upper body until his arm is pressed against Reid's.

But that's dangerous, too. Because a simple shift might lead to ducking his head, pressing his nose against the curve of Reid's neck, breathing him in. Swaying closer until their arms are pressed together might lead to craving more of that warmth that comes off him, the heat every last living thing carries with them, the feeling of which Luke has begun to crave desperately, though there's really only one person in particular who'll be able to deliver what he wants. It isn't as if the wolf makes him some wild animal, incapable of any kind of self-restraint. Luke has been attracted to people before without having to worry that he's going to lose control. He's a very controlled man most of the time and it feels like Reid is slowly undoing him bit by bit.

He listens to the story attentively, eating his cake, letting Reid tell the story. It's terrifying on any entirely different level than Luke's life has ever managed to be. Fighting demons is one thing, demons are so clearly evil, there's no purpose to them besides wanting to come into this world and destroy it, but people are so much more complicated than that. Even the ones who are capable of true evil -- and Luke believes they exist -- can hide their intentions with much better success than a demon can. And often there are reasons under the evil things people do, guilt and fear, and that doesn't excuse it, nothing can possibly excuse hurting others, but it makes it a little less scary than those who have no reason. Those who just want to cause pain, like the demons do.

"I can't imagine stories about your work are often very happy," Luke agrees, his voice soft, but he had known that when he had asked. It's incredible to him that anyone can do that sort of job, day in and day out, seeing the horrors people are capable of committing. It's such a far cry from what he's done, even if they are both dangerous in their own ways, simply because there's never any reason to doubt or worry when it comes to demons. There's no grey area, it's all black and white, made very clear. Except even that isn't entirely true, he thinks, smiling very slightly. Because he is part demon now. Simon, Magnus, Maia and Bat. All the wolves and warlocks he's known and those he's loved, they're all demons, too, through no fault of their own, and that's where the grey area begins.

Of course, he would be inclined to say wolves and warlocks, at least, are more human than demon. Sometimes he doesn't know if the same can be said for the vampires and the fey, not when they're often so willing to cast aside any pretense of care for humans, but that doesn't apply to everyone. Nothing can apply to an entire population, there are no hard and fast rules everyone will live by. The Fair Folk might come closest, with their inability to lie, but he knows they've found ways around that by mixing faery and human blood.

"But you found her," he says. "And you were safe." As far as Luke can determine, those really the most important things. Reid had done what he could to bring the girl home and he's still here to tell the tale, so Luke can't really look at the story as having an unhappy ending. Not when it's given him this.

"No," he says, still smiling. "No, I don't mind. A story from my dangerous job..." He trails off and is silent for a moment, thinking. With Valentine as his parabatai, there is really a countless number of stories he could tell, but he settles on one within a few moments.

"Valentine, the man who set me up to get bitten, before that all happened, he was still a bit of a zealot. In the beginning, when he wanted to hunt Downworlders, he would always tell us they'd done something awful. Broken the Accords in some way," he says, telling the story slowly, carefully. Knowing it doesn't cast him in the best light and telling it anyway. "Looking back now I realize he was lying to us, but I wanted so badly to have someone to follow and the Clave, the system he was railing against, it was corrupt. It still is." But they'd all been so wrong in the way in which they had gone about their attacks.

"He told us once that he found a group of werewolves who were living outside the Accords. Attacking other wolves, attacking vampires, attacking humans. He told us they were mostly teenagers, barely a fight at all. We were supposed to find their base and arrest them. Take them into the Clave for a trial and sentencing," Luke says. "But when we got there, the base was heavily guarded with dozens of adult male wolves. We should have retreated, but Valentine pushed us forward, made us attack. We weren't there to arrest anyone and he knew it from the start. It was a brutal fight, but it was short. At the end all the wolves were dead and we'd lost four Shadowhunters, too. He had dragged us into that situation knowing some of us were going to die." Luke pauses, then looks at his cake. "That's when I realized what he was doing to us."
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[personal profile] notaretriever 2015-07-22 07:25 pm (UTC)(link)
It feels so good to be physically near someone like this again and it isn't that Luke is especially selective about the people he's willing to touch, but there just hasn't been anyone like Reid in a very long. He cared about Mindy, he still cares for her, he even thinks it could have developed into something more had he not realized that she had feelings for someone else. What Luke wants is something long term, something more than simply casual, and she hadn't wanted that from him, which is fine. He's not upset by it, he hadn't even really been all that upset at the time, not because he hadn't cared but because he knows what it's like to have strong feelings for someone and feel unable to act on them. He can't blame her for that. But even she hadn't been like this. Reid's knee brushes his and Luke's heart picks up speed again, his chest feeling warm and tight all at once, like something is squeezing him, unwilling to let go.

This isn't something he's going to just be able to ignore, he realizes. At some point he's going to have to find a way to deal with it one way or another, but he can't just go on ignoring it, pretending it isn't happening. Reid might see him as just a friend and no matter how hard Luke searches, he can't see a single gesture that might indicate otherwise. Everything they've done together, every conversation they've had, every experience, it could all be in friendship just as easily as anything else and Luke has never presumed to think someone might care for him as more than just a friend without presented with something obvious and concrete. What Reid has given him is friendship, pure and simple. Wonderful friendship, there's no denying that their connection is strong, but there's also nothing to indicate it might be something more.

But if he allows himself to ignore all that for just a moment, it does feel nice to have someone be close to him. It feels nice to have Reid's knee resting against his, even for such a short moment, and Luke smiles as he leans back against the couch and glances up toward the ceiling for a moment. He listens to the things Reid is saying to him, the wonderful compliments he's being paid, and he lets himself just enjoy the moment. Accept the things that are being said to him. Allow them to just slide into his mind and settle there instead of immediately rejecting them.

Looking back at his time in the Circle, there are many things he's ashamed of. Luke had been a weaker fighter; he and Hodge had been better with books, languages and history. It wasn't until Valentine, a year older, had taken them both under his wing that either of them flourished. Hodge had never become an accomplished fighter, but he'd found his weapon, and Luke had grown by leaps and bounds, even moreso when he and Valentine had become parabatai. They had worked so well together, complemented each others' fighting style. They'd trusted each other, they'd been bound together. In many ways, Valentine had made Luke into the warrior he'd become and he knows it's because of that he'd had such a hard time letting go.

Before Valentine he had been nothing. A poor orphan with a preference for books who wore shabby, patched up fighting gear because he and Amatis couldn't afford better than that. After Valentine he'd been a warrior. The second in command in the Circle. Someone to be feared. And perhaps that's it, he thinks. Perhaps that had been the moment he had realized something wasn't right, because Luke has never wanted to be feared.

"Lucian Graymark," he says after a moment of silence. "You said I became Luke Garroway and you don't know just how true that is. I was Lucian Graymark until I was twenty-one and it became necessary for me to have a less distinctive name, something less easy to track. That's why I named the store Graymark Books." His smile grows a little, becomes easier as he looks back down at Reid. "I'm glad. That we've become friends."
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[personal profile] notaretriever 2015-07-27 03:59 pm (UTC)(link)
"Junior G-Man," Luke echoes with a laugh and this is always what seems to happen. There's a moment when he feels tense, like perhaps he's crossed some unknown, unseen boundary and bullied his way to close to Reid in some manner, a moment wherein he becomes convinced he's done something terribly wrong and will need to make amends in some way, and then the tension is all undone by Reid's ability to make him laugh. It's something as simple as a nickname and although he doesn't know who this Garcia is, for a moment he allows himself to try and imagine her. Her and Reid's reaction to being called something like Junion G-Man. Luke isn't even entirely sure what that means, but he can't deny that it's funny.

Reid mentions that someone named Morgan called him Pretty Boy, though, and that unfair jealous streak flares up again. He's clearly speaking about someone on his team, someone he's extremely unlikely to have any sort of romantic connection with, especially if they have the type of friendship where one of them uses playful nicknames on the other, but he can't help it. All his life he's been a rather jealous man, unable to calm the burning and tightness in his chest when watching someone else with something he wanted, but he's always fought against it. Jealousy is not a pleasant emotion, it's not a respectable response, it embarrasses him that he experiences it, and he's had excellent practice when it comes to hiding it.

That doesn't mean he's stopped feeling it.

There's a moment when he thinks he might laugh again, mostly at the idea that Reid has no idea why someone might refer to him as Pretty Boy, but he realizes a second later that Reid really doesn't know. He doesn't know how people look at him, he really doesn't see himself the way others do and Luke knows that's true of most people, but when he looks at Reid, he completely understands the origin of the nickname. There's a slight flush lighting up the sharp edges of his cheekbones and from this angle, looking at his profile, the strong line of his jaw is especially apparent.

He's more than simply pretty, but Luke thinks about it for even a second and he finds his mouth has gone dry. What he wants is to ask more about Reid's team, hear more about these people who would have been as close to him as family, but for a second he can't quite speak and he wishes he had grabbed himself a glass of water while they had been in the kitchen.

Glancing down at his knees, he clears his throat, then looks back up again and smiles. "Well, you spent more time with them than anyone," he says. "It makes sense that you would miss them and everything they do that's familiar. Once Clary found out I was a werewolf, she told me to feel free to hang my head out the car window if I wanted. At the time I felt like throttling her, but I can't deny it was pretty funny and I miss all the inevitable werewolf jokes she and Simon would have made."
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[personal profile] notaretriever 2015-07-31 01:02 am (UTC)(link)
The way Reid prepares him for the joke feels almost feels like a warning and Luke finds he isn't sure what to expect of what's coming, but then Reid tells his joke and Luke laughs, the sound almost startled out of him. He doesn't laugh because he thinks Reid wants him to or because the joke is particularly funny, but given the warning he was expecting something much worse and he ends up coughing a few times, patting his chest before he manages to speak again. He hadn't been expecting this birthday, he hadn't been expecting that cake and he really hadn't been expecting a lightbulb joke about existentialists. "I have to imagine that's the sort of joke that you need to find the right audience for," he says, looking amused. "Maybe neither of us will be making our debut in a comedy club anytime soon."

Luke knows he isn't funny, he hadn't needed Clary to tell him, although she had on more than one occasion, but now and then Simon had told him that he was funny in a dry way. Luke had just sort of shrugged and accepted it, because he's never particularly tried to be one thing or the other. Whether or not he's funny has never worried him much, so long as his friends and family are happy to spend time with him. But he finds he does care what Reid thinks of him just in general. Not just whether or not he he has a good sense of humour, but whether he's a good man, a good friend. Whether he's fun to be around, trustworthy, all sorts of things.

There are times when he wonders if Reid finds him attractive, though he does his best to crush those moments. He isn't supposed to be thinking things like that about his friend, he should just let it all be, but sometimes he can't help it. His physical appearance isn't something he's ever given a lot of thought to, at least in part because Valentine had been so vain and Luke had never known what to do in the face of that. Even now he doesn't bother with much in the way of variety when it comes to his wardrobe and he doesn't do anything in particular with his beard or hair. He makes sure his beard is trimmed and he shaves most of the time, but there are definitely times when he forgets, when it gets to grow a little longer than usual and he wonders if he should start to make more of an effort now. Or maybe he needs to concentrate on not changing anything too completely, maybe if he starts to do that, he's never going to be able to dig himself out of this hole he finds himself in.

"I think as long as you make yourself laugh, that's the only thing that matters," he adds. That's certainly something Simon would have said to him, informing Luke that it's better to be easily amused than too serious to find the humour in anything. For a teenager, Simon had been rather perceptive most of the time and although Luke thought he took most things not quite seriously enough, it was actually a bit of a refreshing point of view. There wasn't much that seemed like it could bring Simon Lewis down and all he can do is hope whatever comes for them in Manhattan isn't going to take that from him. So much has changed, he knows what it's like, becoming a Downworlder, and all he can do is hope Simon has the support he needs.
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[personal profile] notaretriever 2015-08-06 07:59 pm (UTC)(link)
This is a moment, Luke can feel it. It's simmering just under the surface of everything they say and do, it's the moment where he's supposed to find some hidden reserve of courage and push himself away from the corner of the couch to catch his fingers against the edge of Reid's jaw. Over the course of his life he's had so few of these moments, but he knows well enough to recognize it for what it is. And yet just as he lets himself begin to feel it, just as he begins to recognize it for what it is and dig deep to find that courage, he feels a flicker of doubt. Reid is looking at him, holding his gaze, and Luke is looking back, but it doesn't have to mean anything. He says he needs to narrow his audience to the ones he cares to hear laugh and there's one part of Luke's brain telling him it means something, but the other part is louder. The part saying it's only a friendly gesture is the one that wins.

It's the one that always wins and Luke closes his eyes briefly, wishing he could just let himself believe. There have been moments in the past where he's let himself believe he might deserve something good and in those moments the good thing has always been taken from him. Snatched away, not in a manner that's particularly cruel, but gently, in a way that's made the sting especially memorable. None of this is Reid's fault, none of this is information he could know, but it makes Luke cautious in a way that perhaps isn't fair. He's afraid, though. In the end it all comes back to fear and he wishes he could be stronger. That he could finally beat his fear.

But for all that he was convinced there had been a moment between him, he can't make himself act and now the moment is gone. He smiles, though, when he opens his eyes again and glances over at Reid, because more than anything he desperately does not want to lose this burgeoning friendship. If he's never allowed to make a move toward something more, he'll accept that fate if it means he's still allowed these nights where he sits on his couch with Reid, the two of them laughing and smiling. This is what he needs desperately and maybe he needs so much more than this, too, but if he's allowed either only friendship or nothing, he'll pick friendship every time. He's not prepared to lose this. Not now, not after feeling like he's really connected to someone who trusts him.

"So karaoke for me and an open mic night for you?" he asks, looking amused as he tries to calm the racing of his heart. "That's something I think I'd very much like to see and you might even get me up on a stage to sing in exchange. Maybe." He feels comfortable saying this only because he truly doubts Reid is going to be willing to get up and perform stand-up comedy, not that Luke could blame him. He's a leader in a good number of ways and has no problem speaking to a crowd when it's necessary, but being the centre of attention in a manner that's meant strictly for entertainment leaves him with a creeping feeling of discomfort. It's just not the sort of thing he's cut out for, being in the limelight, and it's something he'll continue to avoid as fervently as possible.

"Thank you for this," he says after another moment, though he's looked up toward his ceiling again. Their friendship is already strong, he really believes that, but Reid makes him nervous regardless. He makes Luke feel like a silly, fumbling teenager who doesn't know what to do around another person, and while there's a part of him that relishes that, there's another, deeper part that's still just afraid. "For the cake and the gift and mostly for coming to spend the evening with me. I'm having a good time."