fic: they aren't perfect.
Title: they aren't perfect.
Author: inflowers
Summary: they aren't perfect, but does it matter?
Authors notes: I'm struggling with the next installment of 'somewhere only we know', but this came out while I was trying to write it. Hehe. Just something little!
They're a work in progress. They always have been, and even now - so many years later, they still are.
There are still so many things that make the other irk, so many things that they wish they could change. But now, instead of swearing and storming off - they're learning to breathe deeply and breeze through it. Because they both know the rewards totally outweigh the suffering.
Reid still backseat drives, even when Luke knows the right direction. And Luke still insists on riding the clutch, even when Reid reminds him how bad it is for the car.
Neither of them know how to cook, but it doesn't stop them from trying. It doesn't stop Luke from whining that he's trying to be romantic by cooking Reid dinner, and it doesn't stop Reid from rolling his eyes as he opens the window and uses the broom to shut off the smoke detector.
Reid still hasn't quite mastered the art of family interaction, and Luke hasn't quite learnt that he probably never will. But it doesn't stop them from attending every Snyder family reunion, dressed to the nines with smiles to match. Regardless of how badly they always seem to turn out, both Luke and Reid continue to show up and be present - because that's what families do.
They both like sleeping late on Sundays, but their definitions of late differ somewhat. For Reid, as a man who knows the importance and value of time off, sleeping late is 8am. At the latest. For Luke, who grew up being woken at ungodly hours of the morning by younger siblings, sleeping late is 11am. At the earliest. So they take turns, sometimes Reid will begrudgingly stay wrapped up in Luke even though he's been awake for hours. And sometimes Luke will sleepily drag himself out of bed with the promise of coffee and bagels, even at the ungodly hour of 8.
They're still arguing about stupid things, like they always have. Over whose turn it is to lock up, wash the dishes, pick up the dry cleaning or do the grocery shopping. They argue about what colour to paint the kitchen before Reid finally accepts that they have enough brown in the house as it is, and they argue about what radio station is playing in the background.
But they argue about the bigger things, too. About how much time Luke spends with Noah and how much time Reid spends at the hospital. They argue about whether they should get married, have kids, buy a bigger house, buy a better car, re-landscape the backyard and who is getting what in their wills.
They're a work in progress, but they've settled into this bizarre routine of bickering and squabbling despite how dysfunctional it seems to others.
Because they know that making up is worth it.
They aren't perfect, but it works.