I'm not anti-social, I just can't stand people (peggin) wrote in noah_who,
I'm not anti-social, I just can't stand people
peggin
noah_who

Even Dorks Do Good

Title: Even Dorks Do Good
Written By: csigeekfan
Category: General
Rating: PG
Author's Notes: My little contribution to the Noah Who challenge. I hope you enjoy.



The evening’s plans had been simple. Go home. Make dinner.

Actually, Dr. Reid Oliver had been fantasizing about his husband standing over the hot stove. Wearing nothing but an apron. A really skimpy apron. Maybe the one that shouted, “Kiss the Chef.” The food might be inedible, but then again, when Luke cooked it usually was. That’s why they had Al’s on speed dial.

Oh boy had he been thinking about that all day. Not Al’s take-away. Luke. A little time alone. Just the two of them, and maybe a pint of ice cream with separate spoons.

Giddily, he rubbed his hands together, conjured up a picture of a very naked husband in his mind, and grinned wide. Then he swung open the front door of their home.

Reality slammed into him in the form of a bullet with four rapidly moving limbs.

“What are you doing?” Reid asked, reaching down and flipping the small moving creature upside-down. As expected, the little body burst into a fit of giggles, and the good doctor flipped the small boy over and onto his feet.

“Hi, Daddy,” the redheaded spitfire said with a grin and his usual innocent charm.

Leave it to the kid to look just like me and have Luke’s personality, Reid thought and then sighed heavily.

“Dante, where is Aunt Katie or Papa?” Reid warily asked. The last time his kid had answered the door alone, it had been because he’d walked out of his kindergarten class and walked the half a mile home. He’d figured out how to climb up on the planter to get the spare key down and was eating a massive peanut butter and banana sandwich before anyone even knew he was missing.

Before the imp could answer, however, Reid picked up the sound of retching coming from the back of the house, and winced. Oh lord. The flu that had been devastating Memorial finally hit home.

Leaning down, he winced once more at the sound of Luke moaning, and told his son, “That is why Daddy never wants you to touch his toothbrush.”

“Okay,” Dante replied in a tone that said he’d moved onto another subject entirely, and had stopped listening to Daddy once he’d heard the gross sounds his Papa made in another room. What little boy didn’t find gross sounds fascinating?

Reid, for his part, patted his son on the head, ruffled the head of curls, and made his way to the bathroom. He may not be putting his husband to bed with his original lascivious intentions, but he would be laying Luke out, getting him covered up, and soothing the young blond man to sleep. There was time for the rest later. He just didn’t like his husband to hurt.

It turned out to be surprisingly easy.

With his stomach empty of anything he’d eaten in the last fifteen years, the philanthropist allowed Reid to guide him to the bedroom, strip him to his boxers, and settle him between the sheets.

“Good night, Papa,” Dante said, wandering in and patting Luke on the shoulder like a child. “I’d kiss you, but I don’t wanna have to puke too. And Daddy says you’re a big germ.”

Luke managed an eye roll before his lids drifted shut and he snuggled into the warmth with a murmured, “Love you too, Monkey.”

“He looks dead, Daddy,” the boy loudly surmised, glancing up with six-year-old innocence and a morbid sense of curiosity. At least he’d inherited that much of his Daddy’s personality.

“Let Papa sleep,” Reid replied. “I’ll call and let Aunt Katie know date night is off.”

A few minutes later, he found his child sitting on the couch and looking morose.

“What will we do tonight? Cause you don’t play Chutes and Ladders as good as Papa, and I suck at chess. You told me so. And Papa put a code on the TV, ‘cause you keep yelling at that movie critic,” Dante explained.

The imaginative, over-active child didn’t bother waiting for his parent to answer, and excitedly said, “I know! You can tell me the story of ME!”

“The story of YOU?” Reid asked in mock surprise. For nearly a year, upon hearing the story the first time, this had become their ritual. Dante wanted to know all about how Daddy and Papa met and married; and how they decided to have their baby boy.

With a big grin showing off a missing front tooth, Dante nodded excitedly and jumped onto the couch. When Reid finally settled in, he pulled the boy up onto him and glanced around. With his luck, someone would walk in and find him in the middle of what he secretly reveled in – father-son snuggle time.

A nurse had once caught him singing to the rugrat in his office and Reid had been forced to glare until she cried and ran away.

Pulling a blanket over the two of them, Reid rubbed his hand over his son’s head, inhaled the smell of little boy, and smiled.

“It all started when Papa blackmailed me to come to Oakhell…”

For twenty minutes, the doctor gave the little boy his own special version of the story. He talked about the stupidity of the blind man who’d pushed Papa away. He pointed out how Papa had learned to be happy on his own, and to be happy with the man he’d become. Then he told how Papa and Daddy had become so important to each other, and how Daddy had been happy when the stupid blind man moved away. Once again, Daddy told Dante that he couldn’t tell Papa that he thought the blind man was stupid, because the blind man wasn’t blind anymore. After all, Daddy was brilliant and could make the blind see again.

“Daddy? Can I ask you a question?”

“Of course,” Reid softly replied, melting at the way the little boy’s tiny hand played with the button of his shirt, and the way he snuggled a little closer.

“If the man was such a dork, how come you named me after him?” Dante asked.

The day their child had been born, Luke had taken one look at the scrunched up face and given their son his first name. Reid had insisted the middle name be Noah.

“Because, even if he is a dork, I would’ve never met your Papa if it weren’t for the idiot,” he replied. “I would have never married him. I would have never been your Daddy. So I can even be okay with you calling him Uncle Noah when he visits.”

At the sound of shuffling feet, Reid winced and tilted his head back to look right up into the eyes of his husband who stood behind him. Neither man nor boy had heard Luke enter the room in his stocking feet.

Mentally preparing himself for chastisement, Reid waited, but it never came.

Instead, Luke smiled, reached down to ruffle his son’s auburn hair, and said, “Even dorks sometimes do good things.”
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