"Not very happy at all," Reid agrees, "not at the start." Smiling wryly, he leans forward to set his empty plate down on the table at their feet. He should have known better or at the very least, paid more attention, because his knee travels a little too far and brushes against Luke's and just for a second, it's like everything stops. It's not a big deal, just an accidental touch like at the movie theater, one that doesn't last long enough to mean anything to most people but means a great deal to him. There's nothing to read into when it hadn't been intentional, but it makes Reid remember the way Luke had reached out for him when this night had started, the concern on Luke's face at the bruises and bandages on Reid's.
It's friendship, he knows that, and he can tell himself that until he's blue in the face; but he's at a point now that trying to deny how he feels at all is just exhausting. It's pointless, too, to pretend that every time Luke even looks at him, Reid is afraid that he's going to give himself away with a flush that will reveal everything. He's afraid that one of these days, their knees will brush again and that time, he won't move away. He wishes he had the courage to do that now, to keep that physical contact between them without worrying so much about what Luke's reaction would be, but courage in romance has never been his forte.
Maeve had been the one to tell him she loved him first. He'd been the one to say over and over again that he'd wanted to see her in person, but she'd been the one to express her feelings for him before he'd even considered the possibility that she might actually want him, too. Ethan had been the one to pursue Reid, to convince him that he was wanted for the very first time in his life, and that relationship (or whatever Ethan had wanted to call it) hadn't ended particularly well but it hadn't ended up with Reid wanting to burn all evidence of Ethan's existence in his life, either. When they'd seen each other again in New Orleans, so many memories of the time they'd shared together had come flooding back, and maybe it'd been a mistake to spend one more night with Ethan again, but Reid doesn't regret it.
He doesn't want to spend just one night with Luke. He wants more of this, of this unexpected connection that they've developed in a few short weeks, but he also wants to be able to confirm what he's already imagined it's like to pull Luke closer to him. He wants to know what it'd be like to have Luke's fingers raking down his back or to kiss him until they're both out of breath.
But there's someone sending him love poems, he reminds himself, and it's not Luke. As badly as Reid wants it to be, it's not Luke. So touches between them will come few and far between because that's how it has to be, that's what Reid has to make sure of so he doesn't drift away into thoughts like those he's just had. It's a dangerous way to carry on a friendship, it would lead too easily to lingering gazes on Luke's lips or lip bites that aren't quite as innocent as they usually are. For the most part, he has an excellent poker face; but he thinks that there's the potential here for Luke to make that very difficult for him. Rather, for Reid to make that very difficult for himself.
"I've never been betrayed like that," Reid says softly, forcing himself to move past the so very minor thing that'd put such heavy thoughts in his mind and leaning back against the couch. He studies his friend for a moment, the undeniable attraction he feels for Luke pushed aside because right now, he wants to exist as what he already knows he is--a friend, someone Luke trusts enough to confide in with stories like these, and Reid wants him to know that it isn't taken lightly. There's no part of him that isn't grateful that they can talk to each other like this because without Luke, Reid would truly have nobody here.
He highly doubts, after all, that Clank would be impressed with him if he were to text randomly throughout the day; he'd even woken up from a nightmare last week well past one in the morning and held an internal debate with himself before texting Luke to see if his friend might, on the off chance, still be awake. He'd been so pleased to get a response, it's partly why he'd fallen into that fantasy of discovering that Luke was the one delivering poems, but now, Reid just feels glad to have someone he can rely on regularly.
His teammates, they'd all cared about him, they'd treated him like their younger brother; but they'd had lives of their own. Luke does, too, of course, but there seems to be enough room left in it to let Reid fill the gaps once in awhile. He wishes he knew how to thank Luke for that, but it's not something he's ever really had to think about before.
"You know," he continues, clearing his throat as he shifts just slightly on the couch so he can sling an arm over the back and turn his body more toward Luke, "people who go through traumas like yours, who've been manipulated that way, who've been hurt the way Valentine hurt you... They don't always come out very well on the other side of things." He can hear it in Luke's voice that his friend isn't exactly proud of standing beside Valentine, but Reid understands it; and he makes no judgments.
"He was supposed to be your best friend. He used that to twist you into believing what he wanted you to, and I know you've had years to figure that out for yourself and accept that but that doesn't necessarily make it any easier. You could have let him turn you into someone like him, but you didn't. You could have given in to the people who told you that you weren't worth anything when you were turned, but you didn't. Instead, you became Luke Garroway. You became a-- a bookshop owner and a protector and a father."
Reid lets out a small sigh, offering Luke a crooked smile as he shrugs a shoulder. "And a really good friend to someone who needed one."
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It's friendship, he knows that, and he can tell himself that until he's blue in the face; but he's at a point now that trying to deny how he feels at all is just exhausting. It's pointless, too, to pretend that every time Luke even looks at him, Reid is afraid that he's going to give himself away with a flush that will reveal everything. He's afraid that one of these days, their knees will brush again and that time, he won't move away. He wishes he had the courage to do that now, to keep that physical contact between them without worrying so much about what Luke's reaction would be, but courage in romance has never been his forte.
Maeve had been the one to tell him she loved him first. He'd been the one to say over and over again that he'd wanted to see her in person, but she'd been the one to express her feelings for him before he'd even considered the possibility that she might actually want him, too. Ethan had been the one to pursue Reid, to convince him that he was wanted for the very first time in his life, and that relationship (or whatever Ethan had wanted to call it) hadn't ended particularly well but it hadn't ended up with Reid wanting to burn all evidence of Ethan's existence in his life, either. When they'd seen each other again in New Orleans, so many memories of the time they'd shared together had come flooding back, and maybe it'd been a mistake to spend one more night with Ethan again, but Reid doesn't regret it.
He doesn't want to spend just one night with Luke. He wants more of this, of this unexpected connection that they've developed in a few short weeks, but he also wants to be able to confirm what he's already imagined it's like to pull Luke closer to him. He wants to know what it'd be like to have Luke's fingers raking down his back or to kiss him until they're both out of breath.
But there's someone sending him love poems, he reminds himself, and it's not Luke. As badly as Reid wants it to be, it's not Luke. So touches between them will come few and far between because that's how it has to be, that's what Reid has to make sure of so he doesn't drift away into thoughts like those he's just had. It's a dangerous way to carry on a friendship, it would lead too easily to lingering gazes on Luke's lips or lip bites that aren't quite as innocent as they usually are. For the most part, he has an excellent poker face; but he thinks that there's the potential here for Luke to make that very difficult for him. Rather, for Reid to make that very difficult for himself.
"I've never been betrayed like that," Reid says softly, forcing himself to move past the so very minor thing that'd put such heavy thoughts in his mind and leaning back against the couch. He studies his friend for a moment, the undeniable attraction he feels for Luke pushed aside because right now, he wants to exist as what he already knows he is--a friend, someone Luke trusts enough to confide in with stories like these, and Reid wants him to know that it isn't taken lightly. There's no part of him that isn't grateful that they can talk to each other like this because without Luke, Reid would truly have nobody here.
He highly doubts, after all, that Clank would be impressed with him if he were to text randomly throughout the day; he'd even woken up from a nightmare last week well past one in the morning and held an internal debate with himself before texting Luke to see if his friend might, on the off chance, still be awake. He'd been so pleased to get a response, it's partly why he'd fallen into that fantasy of discovering that Luke was the one delivering poems, but now, Reid just feels glad to have someone he can rely on regularly.
His teammates, they'd all cared about him, they'd treated him like their younger brother; but they'd had lives of their own. Luke does, too, of course, but there seems to be enough room left in it to let Reid fill the gaps once in awhile. He wishes he knew how to thank Luke for that, but it's not something he's ever really had to think about before.
"You know," he continues, clearing his throat as he shifts just slightly on the couch so he can sling an arm over the back and turn his body more toward Luke, "people who go through traumas like yours, who've been manipulated that way, who've been hurt the way Valentine hurt you... They don't always come out very well on the other side of things." He can hear it in Luke's voice that his friend isn't exactly proud of standing beside Valentine, but Reid understands it; and he makes no judgments.
"He was supposed to be your best friend. He used that to twist you into believing what he wanted you to, and I know you've had years to figure that out for yourself and accept that but that doesn't necessarily make it any easier. You could have let him turn you into someone like him, but you didn't. You could have given in to the people who told you that you weren't worth anything when you were turned, but you didn't. Instead, you became Luke Garroway. You became a-- a bookshop owner and a protector and a father."
Reid lets out a small sigh, offering Luke a crooked smile as he shrugs a shoulder. "And a really good friend to someone who needed one."