Fic :: (Luke/Reid) "perfectly imperfect"
Title: perfectly imperfect
Pairing: Luke Snyder/Dr. Reid Oliver
Rating: PG
Summary: Reid is really bad with dates. (Silly fluff)
Author's Notes: Written for schmoop_bingo. No real spoilers from this last week as I was in Chicago and am playing catch up, mostly this is just future fluffy fic. ;) Given the openice seal of approval and a beta by reevolutions. All mistakes are mine.
The day had started out pretty well. He had performed a surgery that went above even his own expectations. He’d gotten a surprise lunch visit from an exceptionally cheery Katie, who’d brought him a sandwich, the size of his own head and kept the comments to herself for once.
Reid counted all of it as a collective win and figured he would top it off with a beer and his boyfriend. It would have been perfect.
Except Luke showed up at work dressed like they were going on a date and he hadn’t actually remembered if they had one planned. Then he handed Reid a suit and winked at him, which was just disconcerting, and he started to get the sinking feeling that he forgot something. (This was never a good thing.)
Luke led him to his car, all the while babbling happily about the day's events like he always did and Reid wracked his brain. No dinners, meetings nor dates sprang to mind, but that really didn’t say much. As they got onto the highway headed towards Chicago (crap, what was in Chicago?) he tried texting Katie but then she wouldn’t answer and some best friend she turned out to be.
The radio was playing classical music, a piece he really enjoyed actually, and wasn’t it just Luke’s great way to make him feel guiltier through music.
He bit the bullet, flicking off the radio. “I’m sorry.”
“Wha?” Luke looked down at where Reid was still pressing the off button. “It’s just background music, change it to whatever you want.”
“Not the…” Reid rolled his eyes. “I wasn’t talking about the music.”
Luke cocked an eyebrow at him.
“Look, I’ve run through the list and I give up. Our anniversary… thing… was in July when you took me to that awful restaurant with quarter sized portions at ridiculous prices…”
Luke broke in. “That was a five star restaurant, Reid. And we went to Al’s after…”
“Whatever. Your birthday is in May, your mom made that meatloaf and Emma made pie. We’re done with Christmas, New Years and Valentine’s Day, thankfully. So just tell me what I forgot this time and what the guilt time frame is.”
Luke had his head turned to check the traffic, covering Reid’s chance of getting a look at his reaction. He was tense, a bit on edge. He’d warned Luke about his lack of a romance bone but always seemed to feel guilty when he messed it up. (It was the his damn earnest eyes, the ones that always seemed to make his stomach tense and remove his usual abundance of common sense.)
“Reid,” Luke turned back to reveal an amused smile. “It’s March.”
“You’re in recovery,” he chided, getting enough balance back to put on his game face. “I refuse to enable you by celebrating St. Patrick’s Day.”
Luke sighed. “That’s next week. Well, in nine days. Today is March 8th. Ring a bell?”
He blinked. “Wait, March 8th?”
“Yeah,” Luke reached a hand out and rubbed at the back of his neck. If he was ever asked, Reid would call the massage condescending and a little annoying but as always he leaned a little into the touch. “No guilt time frames for your own birthday.”
“… I told you I was bad with dates?”
Pairing: Luke Snyder/Dr. Reid Oliver
Rating: PG
Summary: Reid is really bad with dates. (Silly fluff)
Author's Notes: Written for schmoop_bingo. No real spoilers from this last week as I was in Chicago and am playing catch up, mostly this is just future fluffy fic. ;) Given the openice seal of approval and a beta by reevolutions. All mistakes are mine.
The day had started out pretty well. He had performed a surgery that went above even his own expectations. He’d gotten a surprise lunch visit from an exceptionally cheery Katie, who’d brought him a sandwich, the size of his own head and kept the comments to herself for once.
Reid counted all of it as a collective win and figured he would top it off with a beer and his boyfriend. It would have been perfect.
Except Luke showed up at work dressed like they were going on a date and he hadn’t actually remembered if they had one planned. Then he handed Reid a suit and winked at him, which was just disconcerting, and he started to get the sinking feeling that he forgot something. (This was never a good thing.)
Luke led him to his car, all the while babbling happily about the day's events like he always did and Reid wracked his brain. No dinners, meetings nor dates sprang to mind, but that really didn’t say much. As they got onto the highway headed towards Chicago (crap, what was in Chicago?) he tried texting Katie but then she wouldn’t answer and some best friend she turned out to be.
The radio was playing classical music, a piece he really enjoyed actually, and wasn’t it just Luke’s great way to make him feel guiltier through music.
He bit the bullet, flicking off the radio. “I’m sorry.”
“Wha?” Luke looked down at where Reid was still pressing the off button. “It’s just background music, change it to whatever you want.”
“Not the…” Reid rolled his eyes. “I wasn’t talking about the music.”
Luke cocked an eyebrow at him.
“Look, I’ve run through the list and I give up. Our anniversary… thing… was in July when you took me to that awful restaurant with quarter sized portions at ridiculous prices…”
Luke broke in. “That was a five star restaurant, Reid. And we went to Al’s after…”
“Whatever. Your birthday is in May, your mom made that meatloaf and Emma made pie. We’re done with Christmas, New Years and Valentine’s Day, thankfully. So just tell me what I forgot this time and what the guilt time frame is.”
Luke had his head turned to check the traffic, covering Reid’s chance of getting a look at his reaction. He was tense, a bit on edge. He’d warned Luke about his lack of a romance bone but always seemed to feel guilty when he messed it up. (It was the his damn earnest eyes, the ones that always seemed to make his stomach tense and remove his usual abundance of common sense.)
“Reid,” Luke turned back to reveal an amused smile. “It’s March.”
“You’re in recovery,” he chided, getting enough balance back to put on his game face. “I refuse to enable you by celebrating St. Patrick’s Day.”
Luke sighed. “That’s next week. Well, in nine days. Today is March 8th. Ring a bell?”
He blinked. “Wait, March 8th?”
“Yeah,” Luke reached a hand out and rubbed at the back of his neck. If he was ever asked, Reid would call the massage condescending and a little annoying but as always he leaned a little into the touch. “No guilt time frames for your own birthday.”
“… I told you I was bad with dates?”