[july 12]

[youfeelluckypunk]

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."

Comments

[notaretriever]

"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."

[youfeelluckypunk]

Even though he keeps his eyes averted, Reid can feel the intensity of Luke's eyes on him. It doesn't bother him that Luke would try to study him in this moment, Reid would be doing the same thing if their positions were reversed, but a part of him wonders if maybe Luke is looking at him and thinking that he knows exactly why he'd earn a nickname like 'Pretty Boy', even if Morgan had only ever been teasing. Reid's pretty convinced, in fact, that it's everything to do with his hair and the fact that a few years ago, he'd finally agreed to let Garcia, JJ, and Emily take him to the shops to pick out a new wardrobe.

Admittedly, what they'd initially found for him had stuck and once he'd realized Hotch didn't mind that he wore his Chucks, Reid made more of habit out of doing it. The cardigans, he's been told, still make him look like a grandpa but there's no compromising there. The cardigans stay, and they always will. The occasional vest and scarf, though, those have been welcome additions, courtesy of Garcia's fashion expertise.

He has to force himself away from that train of thought because it's a dangerous one that can only lead to more troublesome things for his imagination. If he lets himself think that Luke really does agree with the 'pretty' assessment, Reid will wonder then just how pretty Luke thinks he is or how far Luke would go to make sure Reid knows. The only time he's ever been insecure about himself or the way he looks has been with someone he cares about, those people being Ethan and Maeve, to some extent even Lila, and now Luke. To Reid, looks aren't even secondary, they're lower on his list of desired aspects of another person. He hasn't grown to be attracted to Luke just because his friend is exceptionally handsome, which he is but that's hardly the point.

Luke talks to him like so few others ever have, like a person and not a doctor or an agent or anything but himself. It's a nice feeling, a refreshing, to be able to count on someone, all the while knowing that if he needed anything, Luke would help him if he could, even if it was something awful. If Reid were to knock on his door at three in the morning completely out of sorts and practically in hysterics, Luke would absolutely let him in. That's the kind of trust Reid puts into this man, and it's exactly why he'll keep his feelings to himself for as long as as appropriate.

No matter what they have been them now, Reid doesn't want to lose it.

"I'd say I'd be happy to emulate him with the jokes, but I discovered not too long ago that I'm actually not a very funny person. My best one goes like this: 'How many existentialists does it take to screw in a lightbulb? Two. One to change the lightbulb, and one to observe how it symbolizes an incandescent beacon of subjectivity in a netherworld of cosmic nothingness.'" He can't help but let out a little laugh at it, as he always does, though he narrows his eyes, waiting for a reaction. "It's always like I"m telling that joke to an empty room, nobody ever seems to think it's as funny as I think it is."

[notaretriever]

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.

[youfeelluckypunk]

"I've tried telling it on several different occasions," Reid laments, shaking his head with feigned disappointment. "I just get the same blank stares every time. You're probably the first one who's actually laughed, even though I'm pretty sure it wasn't because you thought the joke was funny." That's fine by him, which he hopes is clear enough by his smile, because regardless of whether or not Luke appreciates existentialist jokes, Reid likes to hear him laugh. It's a deep sound, rich and warm, a laugh that seems like it must resonate because it certainly does in Reid. His cheeks are flushed with pleasure at having heard it, like it's some kind of rarity that nobody else is privy to, and he's sure that isn't true but Reid will treat it that way all the same.

Hearing Luke laugh, seeing him smile, they're both things that Reid has wants more of, and he may not be an especially funny person but he'll find a way. So much can be derived from what's in a person's voice, and he may not yet be able to figure out whether anything Luke has said to him is an indication of there being the possibility of more between them, but Reid remembers what it'd been like to listen to Maeve on the other end of the phone for all those weeks. He things he'd been fairly obvious in his feelings from the moment he'd realized the extent of how much he'd come to care for her, but Maeve had always been a steadier force than he was.

She'd had her practice, with the stalker she'd feared so much, and he sobers a bit at the thought as he sinks deeper into the couch and tilts his head back just slightly to look up at the ceiling. Reid knows that he's never really been looked at by anyone in his life as the man who could make things better just by being there, by being present, and he wishes so badly he could have proven himself to be just that for Maeve. He wishes that by simply existing in the same space as her, as Diane, that he could have prevented what'd happened because people who love each other that much shouldn't be separated so cruelly. It isn't right and it isn't fair but if there's one thing Reid has always been aware of since childhood, it's that rarely is anything right or fair.

Maybe in Darrow, that won't be so true. He would never call himself a man without hope but somehow, being here and next to this man in particular, he feels like he has more of it. What that could mean is beyond him, he'd given up on trying to predict how his life might turn out a long time ago, but even if nothing more than platonic ever happens here, Reid will still want to do everything in his power to make his friend happy. He'll do what he can to see that smile.

"I don't know," he says, glancing over at Luke with a gaze that lingers maybe a little longer than it should, "I think it pays to hear others laugh, too. Maybe I just need to narrow my audience down more, to the ones I care to hear."

[notaretriever]

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."

[youfeelluckypunk]

"If watching me bomb and run off the stage in a room full of people is your pleasure then sure, open mic night for me it is," Reid says, shaking his head in his amusement. There's not a chance in the world he'd be willing to do something like that, there's nothing about the thought of being scrutinized by strangers that sounds appealing to him; but he can take comfort in knowing that Luke would never publicly do karaoke, either, so they're about on the same level here. "Private comedy act, maybe, with the world's densest jokes, in exchange for a sing-along. Maybe. Possible Christmas gift exchange, anyway."

It's a little strange to realize that he's already accepted a future here, even if it's uncertain, but Reid isn't as at odds with the idea as he'd been in the first weeks of being here. It's easier to let something like that settle when others are going through the same thing, he supposes, but he knows he also owes a lot of that to Luke.

"And you don't need to thank me," he continues, and he means it because he feels as if he should be the one thanking Luke for allowing this evening to be possible at all. It's Luke's birthday, he could be doing anything with anyone else, but Reid can't help but be privately pleased that his friend had chosen to stay in with him instead. "I'm having a good time, too. Quiet celebrations are the better choice, in my opinion, but I'm sure that wouldn't surprise you."

The team had always gone out of their way to celebrate Reid's birthday, even if it meant postponing for after a case, and he'd never really been all too certain whether that was because he was the baby of the group or because every single one of them had understood just how important it was to him to know that they would remember it. A bit of both, most likely, but Reid had always appreciated it. Some years, his mother would forget in the midst of having an episode, and he'd never resented her for that but it'd become easy to think that the day didn't really matter, in the grand scheme of things.

He hopes that even with just a cake and a small gift and some good conversation on the couch, this is notable for Luke. It's notable for Reid, at least, and he's beginning to think that he's not alone in that the more they spend time together. It's all hope he has to believe is false until proven otherwise or he'll drive himself mad, but he's happy to do that if it means this friendship can continue to grow. It's not just the best thing about being in Darrow anymore, knowing Luke; it's becoming one of the best things for him, period. There's something a little frightening about that but with a new world comes new experiences, and Reid is finding that it's much better to embrace the change.