There's no way to avoid laughing out loud at that, and Reid feels a flush creeping up the back of his neck as he ducks his head and nods. "Yes, maybe the day after that," he agrees, trying and failing to suppress the grin that seems to keep growing. "I've thought about it already, what it might be like to tell him. What I hope it would be like, anyway."
A mind like Reid's leaves no stone unturned when it comes to imagining all the different possible outcomes to admitting his feelings. Sometimes, he does out of the blue while they're sitting close to each other on Luke's couch one evening, talking over another Space Hospital marathon and replacing the melodrama on the screen with a version of his own. Other times, they've already built up to it, almost like they had the night they'd celebrated Luke's birthday, and Reid occasionally thinks he can still feel the warmth of Luke's hand on his chin when he'd walked through the door with cuts and bruises on his face that he'd earned from a victim's grieving husband earlier in the day.
There's nobody else he would let touch like that, or at all, and even then, Luke had snatched his hand away fairly quickly. Reid had known he was in exceptionally deep trouble in that moment he'd thought that Luke could keep his hand there for the rest of the night and there would be no problem.
All the positive scenarios he's come up with, though, are alike in that they end in just one way: with a kiss that can't be misinterpreted, regardless of whether one or both of them ends up at a loss for words. Right now, all Reid can do his bite down on his bottom lip and stare at his shoes, trying to put thoughts of Luke's beard grazing over his skin and their lips crashing together with a kind of passion Reid has never known before.
"You will be the first I tell," Reid promises after clearing his throat, shifting awkwardly on the bench as he finally meets her eyes again. "I only wish I could be as certain as you are about what will happen." He tilts his head at her then, his tone taking on a curious edge. "In any case, we have spent far too much time talking about my own romantic shortcomings. Is there nobody here who has caught your eye?"
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A mind like Reid's leaves no stone unturned when it comes to imagining all the different possible outcomes to admitting his feelings. Sometimes, he does out of the blue while they're sitting close to each other on Luke's couch one evening, talking over another Space Hospital marathon and replacing the melodrama on the screen with a version of his own. Other times, they've already built up to it, almost like they had the night they'd celebrated Luke's birthday, and Reid occasionally thinks he can still feel the warmth of Luke's hand on his chin when he'd walked through the door with cuts and bruises on his face that he'd earned from a victim's grieving husband earlier in the day.
There's nobody else he would let touch like that, or at all, and even then, Luke had snatched his hand away fairly quickly. Reid had known he was in exceptionally deep trouble in that moment he'd thought that Luke could keep his hand there for the rest of the night and there would be no problem.
All the positive scenarios he's come up with, though, are alike in that they end in just one way: with a kiss that can't be misinterpreted, regardless of whether one or both of them ends up at a loss for words. Right now, all Reid can do his bite down on his bottom lip and stare at his shoes, trying to put thoughts of Luke's beard grazing over his skin and their lips crashing together with a kind of passion Reid has never known before.
"You will be the first I tell," Reid promises after clearing his throat, shifting awkwardly on the bench as he finally meets her eyes again. "I only wish I could be as certain as you are about what will happen." He tilts his head at her then, his tone taking on a curious edge. "In any case, we have spent far too much time talking about my own romantic shortcomings. Is there nobody here who has caught your eye?"