FIC: Know The Secret Handshake (Luke/Reid, 1/1)
Title: Know The Secret Handshake
Author: cindergal
Rating: T
Characters/Pairing: Luke/Reid
Summary: An AU in which Luke is an injured college student treated in the ER by resident Dr. Oliver
Word Count: ~2900
Disclaimer: I do not own ATWT. No profit, no harm, no foul.
Prompts: Written for the hc_bingo prompt "hazing"
A/N: Not beta'd. As always, all mistakes are mine, mine, mine.
Most of his peers - and he used that term very, very loosely - hated being the resident assigned to overnight call. They whined and complained endlessly about how tired they were and how boring it was and how overworked they were, and blah, blah, blah. Reid, on the other hand, didn’t mind it at all. He enjoyed overnight call in large part because there were very few family members, friends, or staff to deal with. All in all, less people around to annoy him. He checked in on his post-surgical patients, who were usually asleep or unconscious, the way he liked them best. And he took care of any neuro cases that came into the ER in the wee hours. Most of these were car accident victims who were too stupid to wear their seat belts, but at least they gave Reid something to do. And the attendings loved it, because Reid rarely had to call them in the middle of the night like his so-called peers did. Being the night call resident meant being the one in charge, and Reid liked that, too.
It had been a quiet night up until now, and he had just stretched out on the narrow bed in the on-call room, barely closing his eyes, when he got paged to the ER. With one glance at the kid lying on the gurney, Reid had him all figured out. Tall, broad-shouldered, good-looking in a wholesome, corn-fed, Midwestern kind of way: idiot frat boy jock, in other words. He waited while the nurse gave him a quick rundown of the patient’s vitals, and then took the chart from her.
“Good morning, Mr… Snyder,” he said, glancing down at the chart. “I’m Dr. Oliver.”
“It’s Luke,” the kid said quietly, his voice rough and his eyes red from a night of drinking. Reid could smell the beer on him.
“Can you tell me what happened?”
“I guess I must have fallen and hit my head.” He reached up and gingerly touched his forehead, where he had a sizeable lump and scrape near his temple. “I don’t…I don’t really remember.”
“He was unconscious less than a minute,” said the nurse. “Another student saw it happen and brought him in.”
“Have you been drinking? Weed? Pills? Anything?”
The kid swallowed hard and shook his head. “No,” he said, his eyes cast downward. From his body language - and odor - Reid would think he was lying. But he wasn’t slurring his words or otherwise acting inebriated.
“How far did you fall?”
“From a second story balcony. But there where bushes underneath that broke my fall.”
Reid stared at him for a moment, and the kid shifted uncomfortably in the bed under his scrutinizing gaze. “So you weren’t intoxicated, but somehow you managed to just…fall off a balcony. Are you just really, really clumsy? Staggeringly poor sense of direction, perhaps?”
The kid shrugged and looked down at his hands, which were also covered in scratches.
Reid took his penlight out of his pocket and tilted the patient’s chin up. He startled when Reid touched him.
“I kind of need to check your pupils to make sure you didn’t scramble your brain anymore than it already was when you started your evening, Mr. Snyder. And for that you’re going to have to look at me.”
“Sorry.” He took a deep breath. “But you don’t have to be so rude about it.”
“I’m afraid he does, Luke,” the nurse said, patting the patient’s arm. “We think it’s in his contract or something.”
Luke snorted a laugh, and Reid frowned at the nurse. “If I could remember your name, I’d report you.”
The nurse just smiled and winked at Luke. People were so annoying. Reid took out his penlight again and was finally able to check the patient’s pupils.
“Equal and reactive,” Reid said to the nurse. “Are you feeling dizzy, Mr. Snyder? Nauseous?”
“Yes. A little.”
Reid sighed heavily. “Which one?”
“Uh, both. I think.”
Reid shook his head. “Get him started on an IV with normal saline and push 5 mg Compazine,” Reid said to the nurse, “and order a BAL and a tox screen.”
“What’s Compazine?” the patient asked him.
“It’s a drug to help with the nausea. The BAL and tox screen…”
“I know what those are,” he said, crossing his arms over his chest and looking away. So, it seemed he’d been in this predicament before. “They’ll come back negative.”
“Don’t be offended, Mr. Snyder. I can’t just take your word for it. You reek of cheap beer.”
“Whatever.”
Reid called for a portable CT to make sure the patient didn’t have anything more serious than a slight concussion. While the nurse was sending a blood sample off to the lab and putting in an IV, Reid completed the physical exam on Mr. Snyder. In addition to his head injury, he had a rather large contusion on his left leg and a moderately serious laceration above his right elbow, as well as several smaller cuts and scratches. All were consistent with a fall, but something about the patient’s story - or lack of one - still didn’t sit right with Reid.
Nurse whatshername was just about to tend to Mr. Snyder’s wounds when the victims of an apartment building fire began to stream into the ER. There were apparently several burns of varying degrees and many more smoke inhalations. They didn’t need a neurosurgeon, but they did need a lot of nursing care.
“Go on,” Reid said, taking the supply cart from her, “I think I can manage a little wound care without you.”
“But can your patient?” she asked with a smirk. Sadly, Reid didn’t have time to think of a proper insult before she was scurrying off to care for people. The unit secretary came in and handed him some lab results, and Reid looked them over before adding them to Mr. Snyder’s chart.
“You were right. Your drug and blood alcohol levels came back negative,” Reid said.
“I am resisting the urge to say I told you so,” deadpanned the patient.
Reid smiled. “Touché, Mr. Snyder.” Sarcasm. This kid might not be so useless after all. He pulled the cart with the wound care supplies over next to the bed, first irrigating the wound with some saline. When he began to clean the wound with antiseptic, Luke winced in pain.
“Sorry,” Reid said. “Most of my patients are unconscious. Usually works out better for both of us.”
This got him a smile, and it was a pretty nice smile, Reid had to admit.
“You’re not majoring in bedside manner, I take it,” he said.
“I’m a neurosurgeon not a social worker.”
Luke snickered, and Reid felt an unexpected frisson of pleasure that he had made the kid laugh. He finished cleaning the wound and carefully applied antibiotic ointment before dressing it with a bandage.
“So tell me why you smell like you took a bath in a tub of Bud Light,” Reid asked him, turning his attention to the laceration on his arm.
Luke’s smile vanished. “I didn’t have anything to drink. I don’t drink. I can’t. At least, I’m not supposed to. Kidney transplant,” he said. Reid silently cursed himself for not reading the patient history thoroughly enough. It was a mistake he wouldn’t make again.
“I’m going to need to put a couple stitches here,” Reid said, after disinfecting the wound. “I’ll numb it up first. There’ll be a little pinch.” Reid injected some lidocaine around the wound to numb it, then crossed his arms over his chest and smiled at Mr. Snyder. “So we’ve got a few minutes before the medication takes affect. Fess up.”
“Why do you care?” Luke asked him.
Reid tried to tell himself he didn’t. That he was just bored. Middle of the night. Nothing to do. But it wasn’t the truth.
“I don’t know,” Reid said honestly. “Maybe I know a little bit about what you’re going through, is all.”
Luke’s nostrils flared. “Oh yeah? Are you gay?”
“Yeah,” Reid said. “I am. Was never stupid enough to rush a fraternity, though. Is that what happened?”
Luke looked surprised for a moment, then shook his head again, a rueful smile on his face. “My gaydar really sucks.”
“Yes, well I’ll teach you the secret handshake later, okay?”
Luke snorted out a laugh, but his smile faded quickly. He took a deep breath.
“They told me they were okay with me. That I would be the first openly gay brother in the fraternity. But that wasn’t really what they wanted.” He put his hands over his face. “God, I’m such an idiot.”
“You are not the idiot in this scenario,” Reid said. “Did someone push you off that balcony? You can press charges. I can call the police.”
“No! No, please don’t. They didn’t push me. I was just trying to get away. They were trying to get me to drink, that’s why I got that beer poured all over me. And when I wouldn’t - I had told them before I couldn’t, because of my kidney - well, I didn’t know what they would do. There were a lot of them, and even the few who didn’t want to be a part of it wouldn’t do anything to help me. We were out on this balcony and I couldn’t get past them.”
“So you jumped.”
“It wasn’t as far as it sounds. I kind of dangled, and there were bushes below, like I said. But then I rolled off them and hit my head on the ground.” He smiled ruefully. “Good thing I have a hard head.”
“You can still press charges,” Reid said.
“For what? Pouring beer on me? That’s really all they did.”
Reid frowned. He was more upset about this than he’d like to admit. “Other than threats, fear and intimidation, and who knows what would have happened if you hadn’t gotten away, but okay. Whatever. You should be all numbed up now, but let me know if anything hurts,” Reid said, as he began to place small, neat stitches to close up Luke’s arm wound.
“You’re disappointed in me,” Luke said. “For not pressing charges.”
Reid stopped working. “No. No, I just hate that this kind of crap still goes on. Look, I’m no gay activist, believe me. I don’t march in parades, I don’t wave flags, I don’t sign petitions. None of that. I’m angry with them, not you. Besides, how could I be disappointed in you? I don’t even know you,” Reid said.
“You’re right. You don’t.”
Reid finished the stitches and looked up, finding Luke staring at him with a defiant expression that Reid, unfortunately, found terribly attractive.
“I’m going to do something about this,” Luke said. “But I’m going to do it my own way.”
Something about his tone made Reid think he would do just that, but before he could say anything, his beeper went off, and Reid was being paged to the ICU. “Good luck to you, Mr. Snyder. Radiology will be by to do your head CT shortly, and if it comes back negative for any problems, which I fully expect, you won’t have to ever see me again.”
“Well, that’s too bad,” Reid thought he heard him say as he rushed toward the elevators. When he looked back, the door had already swung closed.
*
Two weeks later, Reid was in the middle of a really good argument with the sassy nurse, whose name he’d learned was Karen and who was actually the only RN in the ER he really liked working with, when he heard a familiar voice.
“Still making friends wherever you go, I see,” Luke Snyder said. He leaned in a doorway, his hands shoved in his pockets and a smile - dare Reid say a flirtatious smile - on his face.
“Mr. Snyder. You’re looking well. At least, a hell of a lot better than the last time I saw you.”
Luke laughed softly and shook his head. “Flatterer,” he said.
“You, be nice to the cute young man,” Karen whispered in his ear, and then scurried off, giving Luke a smile on her way out the door.
Reid walked over to Luke and stopped a few feet in front of him. “What brings you in to the hospital, Mr. Snyder?”
“Well, I was wondering if you had time to get some coffee? I can wait, if you’re busy. But I have something I want to show you,” he said, taking a manila envelope out from under his arm.
Reid looked at his watch. “As a matter of fact, I think I’m due for a coffee break.”
They walked to the coffee shop across the street from the hospital. Once they got their drinks, Luke took what looked like a newspaper out of the envelope and handed it to Reid. It was the campus newspaper for Luke’s university, and the front page contained an editorial on anti-gay hazing, byline Luke Snyder. Reid read through the article quickly, impressed with Luke’s writing. It was clear, well organized, and passionate while remaining well balanced. He was clearly a talented writer.
“You said you’d do it your way,” Reid said with admiration, “and you sure did. Congratulations. What kind of feedback are you getting?”
Luke was grinning from ear to ear. “Thank you! Mostly positive. And my editor wants to submit my piece for a journalism award. That never happens to freshman. It’s really exciting.”
“That’s fantastic,” Reid said. He had to admire someone who took something negative and turned it into a positive, as Luke had. Instinctively, he reached out to cover Luke’s hand with his own, but realized what he was doing and took it back. The word ‘freshman’ was blinking in neon letters in his mind. He looked at his watch. “I should probably get back to work.”
This time it was Luke who reached across the table. “You think I’m too young for you,” he said, taking Reid’s hand.
“Or maybe I’m too old for you.”
“Do you have a boyfriend?”
Reid shook his head. “No.”
“Good, neither do I. And you’re really not that much older than me. You started college when you were 16 - I googled you, boy genius. Eight years is not that much.”
“I guess it depends.”
“Depends on what?”
“The people involved,” Reid said.
Luke grinned. “Then lets get involved and find out.”
Reid gently removed his hand from Luke’s grasp. He was not good boyfriend material. Luke probably deserved someone younger and nicer than him. But he hadn’t met anyone he felt such a strong, immediate connection to in…ever. “Luke…” he started to say, but his pager went off.
“I’m sorry, I have to go. You should know that if you date me, this will happen all the time,” he apologized. “So think about it. But your editorial is fantastic, and I’m not just saying that to be nice.”
Luke was smiling. “I know. Because you’re not that nice.”
“See?” Reid said, as he got up. He touched Luke’s face briefly. “You really don’t want to date me.”
He was halfway out the door when he heard Luke say, “But I really do.”
*
Reid had just stretched out on the narrow bed in the on-call room, barely closing his eyes, when he got paged to the ER. When he entered exam room one, his patient was sitting on the bed, fully clothed and grinning at him. Luke and Nurse Karen had obviously conspired against him.
Reid cocked his head to the side and gave Luke a once over. “Back again, Mr. Snyder? What seems to be the problem? Are you experiencing neurological symptoms? Are you in need of brain surgery?”
Luke laughed. “Well, I don’t know, Dr. Oliver. There’s definitely something wrong with my brain though.”
Reid stepped closer and got out his penlight. “Really? Tell me more.”
“Well…” he bit his lip, and Reid couldn’t stop thinking that he wished it was him biting Luke’s lip instead. “I can’t stop thinking about this arrogant doctor I met recently. It’s really becoming a problem.”
Reid stepped even closer, taking Luke’s chin in his hand and examining his eyes with the light. “Equal and reactive. And quite a beautiful shade of brown.”
Luke leaned forward and kissed him. It was a relatively chaste kiss, but it surprised him, and sent a jolt through him like he’d never experienced before. Reid took a step back. He needed to put some distance between them so he could think. “You do realize that it’s unethical for me to date a patient.”
Luke frowned. “Really?”
“Fortunately, once you were discharged, you were no longer my patient. If you have any more head injuries, though, you’re going to have to go with the second best neuro resident at the hospital. Which I wouldn’t recommend, really.”
“I’ll have to start wearing a helmet.”
“And mess with that hair?” Reid asked.
They both started laughing at that, and Reid could feel himself blushing, which never, ever happened.
“When is your next day off?” Luke asked him.
“Thursday.”
“May I take you out to dinner?”
Reid groaned. “Well, now I have to go out with you. I never turn down food.”
Luke laughed. “I know! A…friend clued me in.”
Nurse Karen strikes again.
And as he took in Luke’s face, with his gravity-defying hair and his utterly charming smile and his warm eyes that really were a particularly beautiful shade of brown, Reid thought to himself that he needed to do something extra-nice for Nurse Karen very, very soon. Flowers. Chocolate.
A trip to Hawaii, maybe.
Author: cindergal
Rating: T
Characters/Pairing: Luke/Reid
Summary: An AU in which Luke is an injured college student treated in the ER by resident Dr. Oliver
Word Count: ~2900
Disclaimer: I do not own ATWT. No profit, no harm, no foul.
Prompts: Written for the hc_bingo prompt "hazing"
A/N: Not beta'd. As always, all mistakes are mine, mine, mine.
Most of his peers - and he used that term very, very loosely - hated being the resident assigned to overnight call. They whined and complained endlessly about how tired they were and how boring it was and how overworked they were, and blah, blah, blah. Reid, on the other hand, didn’t mind it at all. He enjoyed overnight call in large part because there were very few family members, friends, or staff to deal with. All in all, less people around to annoy him. He checked in on his post-surgical patients, who were usually asleep or unconscious, the way he liked them best. And he took care of any neuro cases that came into the ER in the wee hours. Most of these were car accident victims who were too stupid to wear their seat belts, but at least they gave Reid something to do. And the attendings loved it, because Reid rarely had to call them in the middle of the night like his so-called peers did. Being the night call resident meant being the one in charge, and Reid liked that, too.
It had been a quiet night up until now, and he had just stretched out on the narrow bed in the on-call room, barely closing his eyes, when he got paged to the ER. With one glance at the kid lying on the gurney, Reid had him all figured out. Tall, broad-shouldered, good-looking in a wholesome, corn-fed, Midwestern kind of way: idiot frat boy jock, in other words. He waited while the nurse gave him a quick rundown of the patient’s vitals, and then took the chart from her.
“Good morning, Mr… Snyder,” he said, glancing down at the chart. “I’m Dr. Oliver.”
“It’s Luke,” the kid said quietly, his voice rough and his eyes red from a night of drinking. Reid could smell the beer on him.
“Can you tell me what happened?”
“I guess I must have fallen and hit my head.” He reached up and gingerly touched his forehead, where he had a sizeable lump and scrape near his temple. “I don’t…I don’t really remember.”
“He was unconscious less than a minute,” said the nurse. “Another student saw it happen and brought him in.”
“Have you been drinking? Weed? Pills? Anything?”
The kid swallowed hard and shook his head. “No,” he said, his eyes cast downward. From his body language - and odor - Reid would think he was lying. But he wasn’t slurring his words or otherwise acting inebriated.
“How far did you fall?”
“From a second story balcony. But there where bushes underneath that broke my fall.”
Reid stared at him for a moment, and the kid shifted uncomfortably in the bed under his scrutinizing gaze. “So you weren’t intoxicated, but somehow you managed to just…fall off a balcony. Are you just really, really clumsy? Staggeringly poor sense of direction, perhaps?”
The kid shrugged and looked down at his hands, which were also covered in scratches.
Reid took his penlight out of his pocket and tilted the patient’s chin up. He startled when Reid touched him.
“I kind of need to check your pupils to make sure you didn’t scramble your brain anymore than it already was when you started your evening, Mr. Snyder. And for that you’re going to have to look at me.”
“Sorry.” He took a deep breath. “But you don’t have to be so rude about it.”
“I’m afraid he does, Luke,” the nurse said, patting the patient’s arm. “We think it’s in his contract or something.”
Luke snorted a laugh, and Reid frowned at the nurse. “If I could remember your name, I’d report you.”
The nurse just smiled and winked at Luke. People were so annoying. Reid took out his penlight again and was finally able to check the patient’s pupils.
“Equal and reactive,” Reid said to the nurse. “Are you feeling dizzy, Mr. Snyder? Nauseous?”
“Yes. A little.”
Reid sighed heavily. “Which one?”
“Uh, both. I think.”
Reid shook his head. “Get him started on an IV with normal saline and push 5 mg Compazine,” Reid said to the nurse, “and order a BAL and a tox screen.”
“What’s Compazine?” the patient asked him.
“It’s a drug to help with the nausea. The BAL and tox screen…”
“I know what those are,” he said, crossing his arms over his chest and looking away. So, it seemed he’d been in this predicament before. “They’ll come back negative.”
“Don’t be offended, Mr. Snyder. I can’t just take your word for it. You reek of cheap beer.”
“Whatever.”
Reid called for a portable CT to make sure the patient didn’t have anything more serious than a slight concussion. While the nurse was sending a blood sample off to the lab and putting in an IV, Reid completed the physical exam on Mr. Snyder. In addition to his head injury, he had a rather large contusion on his left leg and a moderately serious laceration above his right elbow, as well as several smaller cuts and scratches. All were consistent with a fall, but something about the patient’s story - or lack of one - still didn’t sit right with Reid.
Nurse whatshername was just about to tend to Mr. Snyder’s wounds when the victims of an apartment building fire began to stream into the ER. There were apparently several burns of varying degrees and many more smoke inhalations. They didn’t need a neurosurgeon, but they did need a lot of nursing care.
“Go on,” Reid said, taking the supply cart from her, “I think I can manage a little wound care without you.”
“But can your patient?” she asked with a smirk. Sadly, Reid didn’t have time to think of a proper insult before she was scurrying off to care for people. The unit secretary came in and handed him some lab results, and Reid looked them over before adding them to Mr. Snyder’s chart.
“You were right. Your drug and blood alcohol levels came back negative,” Reid said.
“I am resisting the urge to say I told you so,” deadpanned the patient.
Reid smiled. “Touché, Mr. Snyder.” Sarcasm. This kid might not be so useless after all. He pulled the cart with the wound care supplies over next to the bed, first irrigating the wound with some saline. When he began to clean the wound with antiseptic, Luke winced in pain.
“Sorry,” Reid said. “Most of my patients are unconscious. Usually works out better for both of us.”
This got him a smile, and it was a pretty nice smile, Reid had to admit.
“You’re not majoring in bedside manner, I take it,” he said.
“I’m a neurosurgeon not a social worker.”
Luke snickered, and Reid felt an unexpected frisson of pleasure that he had made the kid laugh. He finished cleaning the wound and carefully applied antibiotic ointment before dressing it with a bandage.
“So tell me why you smell like you took a bath in a tub of Bud Light,” Reid asked him, turning his attention to the laceration on his arm.
Luke’s smile vanished. “I didn’t have anything to drink. I don’t drink. I can’t. At least, I’m not supposed to. Kidney transplant,” he said. Reid silently cursed himself for not reading the patient history thoroughly enough. It was a mistake he wouldn’t make again.
“I’m going to need to put a couple stitches here,” Reid said, after disinfecting the wound. “I’ll numb it up first. There’ll be a little pinch.” Reid injected some lidocaine around the wound to numb it, then crossed his arms over his chest and smiled at Mr. Snyder. “So we’ve got a few minutes before the medication takes affect. Fess up.”
“Why do you care?” Luke asked him.
Reid tried to tell himself he didn’t. That he was just bored. Middle of the night. Nothing to do. But it wasn’t the truth.
“I don’t know,” Reid said honestly. “Maybe I know a little bit about what you’re going through, is all.”
Luke’s nostrils flared. “Oh yeah? Are you gay?”
“Yeah,” Reid said. “I am. Was never stupid enough to rush a fraternity, though. Is that what happened?”
Luke looked surprised for a moment, then shook his head again, a rueful smile on his face. “My gaydar really sucks.”
“Yes, well I’ll teach you the secret handshake later, okay?”
Luke snorted out a laugh, but his smile faded quickly. He took a deep breath.
“They told me they were okay with me. That I would be the first openly gay brother in the fraternity. But that wasn’t really what they wanted.” He put his hands over his face. “God, I’m such an idiot.”
“You are not the idiot in this scenario,” Reid said. “Did someone push you off that balcony? You can press charges. I can call the police.”
“No! No, please don’t. They didn’t push me. I was just trying to get away. They were trying to get me to drink, that’s why I got that beer poured all over me. And when I wouldn’t - I had told them before I couldn’t, because of my kidney - well, I didn’t know what they would do. There were a lot of them, and even the few who didn’t want to be a part of it wouldn’t do anything to help me. We were out on this balcony and I couldn’t get past them.”
“So you jumped.”
“It wasn’t as far as it sounds. I kind of dangled, and there were bushes below, like I said. But then I rolled off them and hit my head on the ground.” He smiled ruefully. “Good thing I have a hard head.”
“You can still press charges,” Reid said.
“For what? Pouring beer on me? That’s really all they did.”
Reid frowned. He was more upset about this than he’d like to admit. “Other than threats, fear and intimidation, and who knows what would have happened if you hadn’t gotten away, but okay. Whatever. You should be all numbed up now, but let me know if anything hurts,” Reid said, as he began to place small, neat stitches to close up Luke’s arm wound.
“You’re disappointed in me,” Luke said. “For not pressing charges.”
Reid stopped working. “No. No, I just hate that this kind of crap still goes on. Look, I’m no gay activist, believe me. I don’t march in parades, I don’t wave flags, I don’t sign petitions. None of that. I’m angry with them, not you. Besides, how could I be disappointed in you? I don’t even know you,” Reid said.
“You’re right. You don’t.”
Reid finished the stitches and looked up, finding Luke staring at him with a defiant expression that Reid, unfortunately, found terribly attractive.
“I’m going to do something about this,” Luke said. “But I’m going to do it my own way.”
Something about his tone made Reid think he would do just that, but before he could say anything, his beeper went off, and Reid was being paged to the ICU. “Good luck to you, Mr. Snyder. Radiology will be by to do your head CT shortly, and if it comes back negative for any problems, which I fully expect, you won’t have to ever see me again.”
“Well, that’s too bad,” Reid thought he heard him say as he rushed toward the elevators. When he looked back, the door had already swung closed.
*
Two weeks later, Reid was in the middle of a really good argument with the sassy nurse, whose name he’d learned was Karen and who was actually the only RN in the ER he really liked working with, when he heard a familiar voice.
“Still making friends wherever you go, I see,” Luke Snyder said. He leaned in a doorway, his hands shoved in his pockets and a smile - dare Reid say a flirtatious smile - on his face.
“Mr. Snyder. You’re looking well. At least, a hell of a lot better than the last time I saw you.”
Luke laughed softly and shook his head. “Flatterer,” he said.
“You, be nice to the cute young man,” Karen whispered in his ear, and then scurried off, giving Luke a smile on her way out the door.
Reid walked over to Luke and stopped a few feet in front of him. “What brings you in to the hospital, Mr. Snyder?”
“Well, I was wondering if you had time to get some coffee? I can wait, if you’re busy. But I have something I want to show you,” he said, taking a manila envelope out from under his arm.
Reid looked at his watch. “As a matter of fact, I think I’m due for a coffee break.”
They walked to the coffee shop across the street from the hospital. Once they got their drinks, Luke took what looked like a newspaper out of the envelope and handed it to Reid. It was the campus newspaper for Luke’s university, and the front page contained an editorial on anti-gay hazing, byline Luke Snyder. Reid read through the article quickly, impressed with Luke’s writing. It was clear, well organized, and passionate while remaining well balanced. He was clearly a talented writer.
“You said you’d do it your way,” Reid said with admiration, “and you sure did. Congratulations. What kind of feedback are you getting?”
Luke was grinning from ear to ear. “Thank you! Mostly positive. And my editor wants to submit my piece for a journalism award. That never happens to freshman. It’s really exciting.”
“That’s fantastic,” Reid said. He had to admire someone who took something negative and turned it into a positive, as Luke had. Instinctively, he reached out to cover Luke’s hand with his own, but realized what he was doing and took it back. The word ‘freshman’ was blinking in neon letters in his mind. He looked at his watch. “I should probably get back to work.”
This time it was Luke who reached across the table. “You think I’m too young for you,” he said, taking Reid’s hand.
“Or maybe I’m too old for you.”
“Do you have a boyfriend?”
Reid shook his head. “No.”
“Good, neither do I. And you’re really not that much older than me. You started college when you were 16 - I googled you, boy genius. Eight years is not that much.”
“I guess it depends.”
“Depends on what?”
“The people involved,” Reid said.
Luke grinned. “Then lets get involved and find out.”
Reid gently removed his hand from Luke’s grasp. He was not good boyfriend material. Luke probably deserved someone younger and nicer than him. But he hadn’t met anyone he felt such a strong, immediate connection to in…ever. “Luke…” he started to say, but his pager went off.
“I’m sorry, I have to go. You should know that if you date me, this will happen all the time,” he apologized. “So think about it. But your editorial is fantastic, and I’m not just saying that to be nice.”
Luke was smiling. “I know. Because you’re not that nice.”
“See?” Reid said, as he got up. He touched Luke’s face briefly. “You really don’t want to date me.”
He was halfway out the door when he heard Luke say, “But I really do.”
*
Reid had just stretched out on the narrow bed in the on-call room, barely closing his eyes, when he got paged to the ER. When he entered exam room one, his patient was sitting on the bed, fully clothed and grinning at him. Luke and Nurse Karen had obviously conspired against him.
Reid cocked his head to the side and gave Luke a once over. “Back again, Mr. Snyder? What seems to be the problem? Are you experiencing neurological symptoms? Are you in need of brain surgery?”
Luke laughed. “Well, I don’t know, Dr. Oliver. There’s definitely something wrong with my brain though.”
Reid stepped closer and got out his penlight. “Really? Tell me more.”
“Well…” he bit his lip, and Reid couldn’t stop thinking that he wished it was him biting Luke’s lip instead. “I can’t stop thinking about this arrogant doctor I met recently. It’s really becoming a problem.”
Reid stepped even closer, taking Luke’s chin in his hand and examining his eyes with the light. “Equal and reactive. And quite a beautiful shade of brown.”
Luke leaned forward and kissed him. It was a relatively chaste kiss, but it surprised him, and sent a jolt through him like he’d never experienced before. Reid took a step back. He needed to put some distance between them so he could think. “You do realize that it’s unethical for me to date a patient.”
Luke frowned. “Really?”
“Fortunately, once you were discharged, you were no longer my patient. If you have any more head injuries, though, you’re going to have to go with the second best neuro resident at the hospital. Which I wouldn’t recommend, really.”
“I’ll have to start wearing a helmet.”
“And mess with that hair?” Reid asked.
They both started laughing at that, and Reid could feel himself blushing, which never, ever happened.
“When is your next day off?” Luke asked him.
“Thursday.”
“May I take you out to dinner?”
Reid groaned. “Well, now I have to go out with you. I never turn down food.”
Luke laughed. “I know! A…friend clued me in.”
Nurse Karen strikes again.
And as he took in Luke’s face, with his gravity-defying hair and his utterly charming smile and his warm eyes that really were a particularly beautiful shade of brown, Reid thought to himself that he needed to do something extra-nice for Nurse Karen very, very soon. Flowers. Chocolate.
A trip to Hawaii, maybe.