fic: Responsible Owners
Clooney whines at him.
Reid continues to stare.
Clooney stands up, sits again, and then paws at Reid, claws scraping down his arm.
Reid continues to stare.
Clooney whines again.
“Derek will be home soon,” Reid says, even though he knows that Clooney can’t actually really understand what he’s saying, despite what Morgan says. “I’m sure he’ll walk you when he gets here.”
Reid has said the wrong thing. At the word ‘walk’ Clooney jumps to his paws, tail wagging and tongue lolling out of his mouth. Reid tries to backtrack.
“No no no that’s not what I meant Clooney, no, bad dog, no, I meant Derek will- damn.” Spencer Reid, whose ability to babble on about anything can normally get him out of anything, is powerless when it comes to animals. Clooney doesn’t understand that Reid is not a dog person, nor does he understand that the thought of walking this huge animal quite frankly terrifies him. He can just picture himself being dragged down the sidewalk as Clooney chases a squirrel, or something.
But Derek’s stupid dog looks so excited at the prospect of a walk that Reid can’t say no, so with a sigh of great trepidation he clips Clooney’s leash onto his collar and walks out the door.
Clooney knows ‘heel’ so the walk isn’t that bad. Reid doesn’t get dragged down any sidewalks, although he nearly gets his arm wrenched out of its socket when Clooney spots another dog across the street and lunges to get at it. After about twenty minutes Reid turns around. He knows Clooney likes to run but he doesn’t trust that the dog will come to Reid if he calls him and even though Reid’s relationship with Morgan is strong he doesn’t think Morgan will be too pleased with him if he loses his dog.
They’re almost back at Morgan’s place when Reid is met with some resistance from the end of the leash. Clooney is behind him- Reid figures he must be sniffing at a fire hydrant or something, but when he looks back he can see the dog squatting.
He realizes too late what’s happening.
“No Clooney no no no stop it please we’re almost home can’t you hold it please hold it no- shit.”
Clooney, done with his business, stands and stares up at Reid with brown eyes that most people would call adorable, but which, in Reid’s opinion, are twinkling with evil.
There is another brief staring contest between man and man’s supposed best friend. Reid eyes the blue bags attached to the handle of Clooney’s leash and then looks back at the dog.
“You know, I would make Derek choose between me and you if I didn’t already know that he’d pick you,” he tells the animal as he rips a bag out of the container that’s shaped like a fire hydrant, as if that would make this whole ordeal cute, but then he scratches Clooney behind his ears to show him that he’s just kidding.
“Er- stay,” he tells him as he wraps the leash around his wrist and sticks his hands in the plastic bags. “This is disgusting,” he tells the dog. “I can’t believe people actually willingly do this.”
Clooney just stares at him as Reid tries to refrain from puking. Finally he stands up, glares at the dog, and ties the bag, holding it at arm’s length, breathing through his mouth. He tugs a little on the leash to get Clooney moving again.
Morgan is home when he gets back. He takes one look at the situation- happy dog, disgruntled man, and the blue bag held away from Reid’s body- and grins.
“So, did you have fun on the w-a-l-k?”
Reid glares at Morgan and makes a mental note to start spelling around Clooney to avoid all future situations like this. He gestures to the bag in his hand. “Can you take this please before I fling it at you.”
Morgan continues to grin. If you put him next to Clooney, Reid thinks, they could go on one of those shows about owners who look like their pets.
“Was it fun? Did you bond?”
“Derek, I have a bag full of dog crap, don’t think I won’t use it.”
Morgan dissolves into laughter and bends down on one knee so Clooney can lick his face. “Did you have fun with Spencer, Clooney? Did you have a good time?”
“Derek. Poo.”
Morgan straightens up and takes the offending bag off of Reid. “You know I love it when you talk dirty, Pretty Boy.”
Reid flushes and then glares before stalking off to thoroughly wash his hands. Morgan comes back from disposing of the bag and gives his hands a quick wash as well.
“You could have waited. I would have taken him for a walk.”
“He was giving me the eyes.”
“What eyes?”
Reid pushes his forehead against Morgan’s shoulder, whose arms come up to encircle his waist. “The dog eyes. The eyes that say I love you and I trust you even though you’re a cat person. No sane person can say no to those eyes.”
Morgan laughs, turns his head, digs his nose in Reid’s hair. “I think he learned that trick from you,” he laughs, trailing his lips from Reid’s hairline to his mouth, kissing him until Clooney whines.
“What does he want now?” Reid whines, an imitation of the dog at his feet, and Morgan laughs.
“It’s dinner time.”
Reid sighs and glares at the cockblocking animal.
“Dogs,” he says disapprovingly.
He swears Clooney winks at him.
Reid continues to stare.
Clooney stands up, sits again, and then paws at Reid, claws scraping down his arm.
Reid continues to stare.
Clooney whines again.
“Derek will be home soon,” Reid says, even though he knows that Clooney can’t actually really understand what he’s saying, despite what Morgan says. “I’m sure he’ll walk you when he gets here.”
Reid has said the wrong thing. At the word ‘walk’ Clooney jumps to his paws, tail wagging and tongue lolling out of his mouth. Reid tries to backtrack.
“No no no that’s not what I meant Clooney, no, bad dog, no, I meant Derek will- damn.” Spencer Reid, whose ability to babble on about anything can normally get him out of anything, is powerless when it comes to animals. Clooney doesn’t understand that Reid is not a dog person, nor does he understand that the thought of walking this huge animal quite frankly terrifies him. He can just picture himself being dragged down the sidewalk as Clooney chases a squirrel, or something.
But Derek’s stupid dog looks so excited at the prospect of a walk that Reid can’t say no, so with a sigh of great trepidation he clips Clooney’s leash onto his collar and walks out the door.
Clooney knows ‘heel’ so the walk isn’t that bad. Reid doesn’t get dragged down any sidewalks, although he nearly gets his arm wrenched out of its socket when Clooney spots another dog across the street and lunges to get at it. After about twenty minutes Reid turns around. He knows Clooney likes to run but he doesn’t trust that the dog will come to Reid if he calls him and even though Reid’s relationship with Morgan is strong he doesn’t think Morgan will be too pleased with him if he loses his dog.
They’re almost back at Morgan’s place when Reid is met with some resistance from the end of the leash. Clooney is behind him- Reid figures he must be sniffing at a fire hydrant or something, but when he looks back he can see the dog squatting.
He realizes too late what’s happening.
“No Clooney no no no stop it please we’re almost home can’t you hold it please hold it no- shit.”
Clooney, done with his business, stands and stares up at Reid with brown eyes that most people would call adorable, but which, in Reid’s opinion, are twinkling with evil.
There is another brief staring contest between man and man’s supposed best friend. Reid eyes the blue bags attached to the handle of Clooney’s leash and then looks back at the dog.
“You know, I would make Derek choose between me and you if I didn’t already know that he’d pick you,” he tells the animal as he rips a bag out of the container that’s shaped like a fire hydrant, as if that would make this whole ordeal cute, but then he scratches Clooney behind his ears to show him that he’s just kidding.
“Er- stay,” he tells him as he wraps the leash around his wrist and sticks his hands in the plastic bags. “This is disgusting,” he tells the dog. “I can’t believe people actually willingly do this.”
Clooney just stares at him as Reid tries to refrain from puking. Finally he stands up, glares at the dog, and ties the bag, holding it at arm’s length, breathing through his mouth. He tugs a little on the leash to get Clooney moving again.
Morgan is home when he gets back. He takes one look at the situation- happy dog, disgruntled man, and the blue bag held away from Reid’s body- and grins.
“So, did you have fun on the w-a-l-k?”
Reid glares at Morgan and makes a mental note to start spelling around Clooney to avoid all future situations like this. He gestures to the bag in his hand. “Can you take this please before I fling it at you.”
Morgan continues to grin. If you put him next to Clooney, Reid thinks, they could go on one of those shows about owners who look like their pets.
“Was it fun? Did you bond?”
“Derek, I have a bag full of dog crap, don’t think I won’t use it.”
Morgan dissolves into laughter and bends down on one knee so Clooney can lick his face. “Did you have fun with Spencer, Clooney? Did you have a good time?”
“Derek. Poo.”
Morgan straightens up and takes the offending bag off of Reid. “You know I love it when you talk dirty, Pretty Boy.”
Reid flushes and then glares before stalking off to thoroughly wash his hands. Morgan comes back from disposing of the bag and gives his hands a quick wash as well.
“You could have waited. I would have taken him for a walk.”
“He was giving me the eyes.”
“What eyes?”
Reid pushes his forehead against Morgan’s shoulder, whose arms come up to encircle his waist. “The dog eyes. The eyes that say I love you and I trust you even though you’re a cat person. No sane person can say no to those eyes.”
Morgan laughs, turns his head, digs his nose in Reid’s hair. “I think he learned that trick from you,” he laughs, trailing his lips from Reid’s hairline to his mouth, kissing him until Clooney whines.
“What does he want now?” Reid whines, an imitation of the dog at his feet, and Morgan laughs.
“It’s dinner time.”
Reid sighs and glares at the cockblocking animal.
“Dogs,” he says disapprovingly.
He swears Clooney winks at him.