ficlet: atwt - luke/reid - artemis, pg
Title: Artemis
Author: Mona (sexyscholar)
Rating: PG
Summary: Slice-of-life fic. Luke and Reid have a dog. TRAIN? WHAT TRAIN?
Disclaimer: Obviously, I don't own the boys. Things wouldn't have gone so pear-shaped in my hands.
A/N: Okay, so I was supposed to be writing fluffy-ish smut, and this tumbled out instead. IDK. I wrote it in like, a half-hour. Unbeta'ed -- all f**k-ups are mine alone.
”Shut up, Garfunkel, it’s just me,” Reid grumbled at the barking dog as he opened the door to the apartment. “You’re gonna wake him up.”
Once inside, he leaned on the door until shut with a soft click -- Luke had his composition class at the ungodly hour of seven o’clock in the morning, and he'd be damned if he was going to let anything wake him up other than his alarm clock.
Reid stooped down to meet the dog, extending his hand with the usual warning, “You bite me, and I’ll end you.”
The animal chuffed in understanding and nudged its muzzle against Reid’s open palm, licking at his fingers.
“You can still taste that, huh?” Reid reached into the bag of takeout from Al’s Diner, pulled out the styrofoam box of chili-cheese fries and opened it for the dog. Artemis quickly redirected his attention from Reid’s hand to the food, sniffed into the container and began to eat. Loudly.
“Christ, dog, do you swallow?” The dog looked up briefly and Reid could make out the small, brass bone-shaped tag on his collar. Artemis gleamed at him in engraved letters.
“‘Artemis,’” the doctor said aloud. “Nobody but Luke.” He patted the thick coat of fur on the dog’s back. “Sorry, Garfunkel. I tried to talk him out of it, but...you know how he is.”
Artemis gave a grunt suggesting that, yes, he knew exactly how Luke was.
~*~*~
Only Luke would come home with a wet, grungy-looking mutt in his arms wrapped up in a blanket, nuzzling its face and cooing at it like one of those ridiculous women in those kennel shows who seemed to have the same haircut as her dog.
Only Luke would think that the same grungy-looking mutt sniffing out, finding and devouring Reid’s secret stash of hard salami and mozzarella was cute.
And only Luke would come up with a name like Artemis for that grungy-salami-and-mozzarella-stealing mutt.
“I know what we’re calling him,” Luke announced with a note of pride as he plunked down on the couch next to his boyfriend.
“Hmm?” Reid’s focus was poured into a medical journal, smirking at what he was reading and scribbling notes in the margins.
“The dog. We’re naming him Artemis.”
The doctor set the book on his lap and turned to Luke. “Artemis?”
The blond grinned. “Yeah, you know, the Greek goddess of--”
“The hunt, wildlife, and childbirth. I know the myth, Snyder. What I don’t get is how you came up with that name for that.” Reid pointed at the dog, who was gnawing on the toe of one of Luke’s sneakers.
“Because he’s got a knack for finding things--”
“Like my salami.”
“Are you ever going to let that go?”
Reid tilted his head as if in thought. “Not until he buys me a roll to replace it.”
Luke rolled his eyes. “Reid.”
“I’m not calling a dog Artemis -- it’s stupid. And Artemis was a goddess. Last time I looked, that dog was definitely male. Which reminds me, since it sounds like we’re keeping the thing, you need to call the vet and have it checked out.”
The younger man lay his head on Reid’s shoulder. “You could call him Artie,” he said offhandedly, stroking the other man’s thigh. “Or Art.”
Reid caught the scent of musk and shampoo in Luke’s hair and felt his stomach twist at the twinge of arousal that went through him at Luke’s touch. “Garfunkel,” he muttered.
“Huh?”
“Garfunkel. The singer? ‘Bridge Ov--” He stopped short, catching the confused look on Luke’s face. Sometimes he forgot how many years there were between them. “Never mind.”
Luke rolled his eyes again. “You want to call him Garfunkel.” He levered up from the couch, scratching at the sliver of bare skin at his waist. “Yeah,” he drawled, waving his hands dramatically, “because that’s so much better than Artemis.”
“It is!” Reid answered with a laugh. “Look at how fuzzy he is -- it’s perfect!”
Luke walked over to the dog, stooped down and pulled the sneaker out of his mouth. “Don’t listen to him, Artemis,” he clucked, rubbing behind the mutt’s ear. “He’s just bitter about his meatstick.” He looked over at Reid and winked.
Reid stood up, closed the journal and set it on the coffee table. “I seem to remember,” he said, walking toward Luke, “that you like that meatstick just as much as I do.” He brushed an errant bit of hair behind the blond’s ear. “In fact, you went on and on about how good it was. How it tasted just right...how I made sure to cover every inch...how it melted in your mouth...”
Luke rose to match the darker-haired man’s height. “Are we...still talking about salami?”
The doctor traced his thumb over Luke’s chin, and then let it slide down his neck, running over his Adam’s apple. “You know good and damned well we’re still talking about salami. Or at least, I am.” He tugged Luke against him. “Why? What are you referring to, Blondy?”
Luke didn’t miss a beat. “I’m referring to sex, Dr. Oliver. Good, hot, sweaty sex. And if it’s really good, I’ll take Artemis--”
“Garfunkel.”
“--for his walk later and we’ll buy you three rolls of salami.”
Reid hummed. “That’s quite an offer.” He leaned forward and kissed Luke, gently nipping at the blond’s lower lip.
“Just think, you could get a week of sandwiches out of that, at least.” Luke returned the gesture, sliding his tongue into Reid’s open mouth and licking at the other man’s tongue.
“Bed.” The doctor said simply, and turned in the direction of their bedroom; Luke followed. “One thing, though.”
Luke stopped. “Yeah?”
Reid pointed at Artemis, who’d forgotten the two men in favor of munching on Luke’s shoe again. “If he bites my toes again? I’m punting his little ass all the way to Greece, you hear me?”
End.
Author: Mona (sexyscholar)
Rating: PG
Summary: Slice-of-life fic. Luke and Reid have a dog. TRAIN? WHAT TRAIN?
Disclaimer: Obviously, I don't own the boys. Things wouldn't have gone so pear-shaped in my hands.
A/N: Okay, so I was supposed to be writing fluffy-ish smut, and this tumbled out instead. IDK. I wrote it in like, a half-hour. Unbeta'ed -- all f**k-ups are mine alone.
”Shut up, Garfunkel, it’s just me,” Reid grumbled at the barking dog as he opened the door to the apartment. “You’re gonna wake him up.”
Once inside, he leaned on the door until shut with a soft click -- Luke had his composition class at the ungodly hour of seven o’clock in the morning, and he'd be damned if he was going to let anything wake him up other than his alarm clock.
Reid stooped down to meet the dog, extending his hand with the usual warning, “You bite me, and I’ll end you.”
The animal chuffed in understanding and nudged its muzzle against Reid’s open palm, licking at his fingers.
“You can still taste that, huh?” Reid reached into the bag of takeout from Al’s Diner, pulled out the styrofoam box of chili-cheese fries and opened it for the dog. Artemis quickly redirected his attention from Reid’s hand to the food, sniffed into the container and began to eat. Loudly.
“Christ, dog, do you swallow?” The dog looked up briefly and Reid could make out the small, brass bone-shaped tag on his collar. Artemis gleamed at him in engraved letters.
“‘Artemis,’” the doctor said aloud. “Nobody but Luke.” He patted the thick coat of fur on the dog’s back. “Sorry, Garfunkel. I tried to talk him out of it, but...you know how he is.”
Artemis gave a grunt suggesting that, yes, he knew exactly how Luke was.
~*~*~
Only Luke would come home with a wet, grungy-looking mutt in his arms wrapped up in a blanket, nuzzling its face and cooing at it like one of those ridiculous women in those kennel shows who seemed to have the same haircut as her dog.
Only Luke would think that the same grungy-looking mutt sniffing out, finding and devouring Reid’s secret stash of hard salami and mozzarella was cute.
And only Luke would come up with a name like Artemis for that grungy-salami-and-mozzarella-stealing mutt.
“I know what we’re calling him,” Luke announced with a note of pride as he plunked down on the couch next to his boyfriend.
“Hmm?” Reid’s focus was poured into a medical journal, smirking at what he was reading and scribbling notes in the margins.
“The dog. We’re naming him Artemis.”
The doctor set the book on his lap and turned to Luke. “Artemis?”
The blond grinned. “Yeah, you know, the Greek goddess of--”
“The hunt, wildlife, and childbirth. I know the myth, Snyder. What I don’t get is how you came up with that name for that.” Reid pointed at the dog, who was gnawing on the toe of one of Luke’s sneakers.
“Because he’s got a knack for finding things--”
“Like my salami.”
“Are you ever going to let that go?”
Reid tilted his head as if in thought. “Not until he buys me a roll to replace it.”
Luke rolled his eyes. “Reid.”
“I’m not calling a dog Artemis -- it’s stupid. And Artemis was a goddess. Last time I looked, that dog was definitely male. Which reminds me, since it sounds like we’re keeping the thing, you need to call the vet and have it checked out.”
The younger man lay his head on Reid’s shoulder. “You could call him Artie,” he said offhandedly, stroking the other man’s thigh. “Or Art.”
Reid caught the scent of musk and shampoo in Luke’s hair and felt his stomach twist at the twinge of arousal that went through him at Luke’s touch. “Garfunkel,” he muttered.
“Huh?”
“Garfunkel. The singer? ‘Bridge Ov--” He stopped short, catching the confused look on Luke’s face. Sometimes he forgot how many years there were between them. “Never mind.”
Luke rolled his eyes again. “You want to call him Garfunkel.” He levered up from the couch, scratching at the sliver of bare skin at his waist. “Yeah,” he drawled, waving his hands dramatically, “because that’s so much better than Artemis.”
“It is!” Reid answered with a laugh. “Look at how fuzzy he is -- it’s perfect!”
Luke walked over to the dog, stooped down and pulled the sneaker out of his mouth. “Don’t listen to him, Artemis,” he clucked, rubbing behind the mutt’s ear. “He’s just bitter about his meatstick.” He looked over at Reid and winked.
Reid stood up, closed the journal and set it on the coffee table. “I seem to remember,” he said, walking toward Luke, “that you like that meatstick just as much as I do.” He brushed an errant bit of hair behind the blond’s ear. “In fact, you went on and on about how good it was. How it tasted just right...how I made sure to cover every inch...how it melted in your mouth...”
Luke rose to match the darker-haired man’s height. “Are we...still talking about salami?”
The doctor traced his thumb over Luke’s chin, and then let it slide down his neck, running over his Adam’s apple. “You know good and damned well we’re still talking about salami. Or at least, I am.” He tugged Luke against him. “Why? What are you referring to, Blondy?”
Luke didn’t miss a beat. “I’m referring to sex, Dr. Oliver. Good, hot, sweaty sex. And if it’s really good, I’ll take Artemis--”
“Garfunkel.”
“--for his walk later and we’ll buy you three rolls of salami.”
Reid hummed. “That’s quite an offer.” He leaned forward and kissed Luke, gently nipping at the blond’s lower lip.
“Just think, you could get a week of sandwiches out of that, at least.” Luke returned the gesture, sliding his tongue into Reid’s open mouth and licking at the other man’s tongue.
“Bed.” The doctor said simply, and turned in the direction of their bedroom; Luke followed. “One thing, though.”
Luke stopped. “Yeah?”
Reid pointed at Artemis, who’d forgotten the two men in favor of munching on Luke’s shoe again. “If he bites my toes again? I’m punting his little ass all the way to Greece, you hear me?”
End.