Comfort Zone (Connor x Reader)

Eighteen

Towards the end of the day, or at least as long as he could stand avoiding everyone, Reed approached you with a good dose of hesitation. "... sorry to interrupt, but, uh... you ready to go?"

There was anxiety lining his features. Still? "Ah... yes. Yes, I'm actually ready to go home." You smiled and got up, gathering your shit and stopping in front of Connor's desk. "I'll text you the time, okay? We can take a taxi to his place."

Shaking his head, the android had a stern expression. "Detective, I've already gotten permission to use Hank's car if necessary."

"Okay, well, once we get to my friend's place, he said we could use his car. Cause no offense, Hank, but that dumpster on wheels won't earn us any brownie points trying to get into a nightclub."

The lieutenant lifted his hands. "Full offense taken. But have fun," he added, giving you a wink of his own.

"Oh my God you're both conspiring against me," you mumbled, walking away with Gavin and letting the sound of laughter fade in the background. Approaching the parking lot, you noticed that he was growing more and more sullen. It was a worrying contrast to your first impression of him... and you didn't know which was worse. "Gavin?"

He held a hand up. "Just... please. Wait till we're in the car. Please." The deadened tone matched his eyes: total defeat. But all you could do was slide into the passenger seat of his car, buckling up and finding the detective with his head against the seat, eyes closed. After a long silence, he finally pried his mouth open. "...... I'm sorry. I'm a dumbass."

"Gavin, I never said you were. Pretty sure I said as much in my texts, too." The agonized expression didn't budge. "... hey. Look at me." Nothing. "Detective Gavin Reed, your attention is requested at your current location. Stop worrying. Do you copy?"

"... Ten-four, Detective Reed approaching sanity. Standby for further problems." At least it got him to move, eyeing you with a vague smile. "Let me mope a little, damn."

"No. I forbid it. No moping until you tell me why you're moping to begin with." Color filled his cheeks, but at that point there was no sense in hiding it. "Is this because of the Italian thing?" Reed nodded, unable to stop from wanting to rip his skin off. "Okay. Well... I'm not seeing why you're so worked up over it."

"I've known you for two fuckin' days; that isn't enough time to call a bombshell detective that kind of-- fuck my life." His head lowered, arms wrapped around it. There were strained noises coming from his throat.

You fell quiet, letting him voice the frustration. After a couple of minutes, he didn't seem like he was going to calm himself down, so you had to interfere. Reaching over, you carefully pried his arms away, taking one of his hands. "Okay, Gavin? In all seriousness, look at me." Only when the detective finally met your gaze did you speak again. "Listen. I know why you're freaking out."

"I really don't think you do," Reed muttered.

"Maybe not all of it, but some. You're freaking out because something you almost said is a pet name. I know what cara mia means, and... honestly, that's super romantic," So much for cooling his face off; the blush went down his neck. "However. Yes, you're right, way too soon. What I don't understand is how it got to that point."

"...... it's... it's stupid."

"Gavin."

Reed winced, unable to meet your eyes again. "...... it's stupid. Don't tell me it isn't. But... for crying out loud, you're the only person that kept their promise." Mouth working for a second, he continued. "I've asked a few others in the past to... y'know... call me by my goddamn name. You're the only one that took me seriously. Shit, even Hank and Connor are doing it." The laugh he managed was short and painful. "I get that I'm an arrogant cocksucking bastard, and I sure as shit don't deserve any kind of chance. I mean, fuck, I pissed you off and you scared the shit outta me." Gavin shrugged. "I figured I was on your shit list like everyone else. But my brain nagged at me to apologize, knowing I wouldn't get sweet fuck all out of it."

The breath he took was unsteady, and you squeezed the hand you still held. "Proved you wrong, then, huh?"

"The polygraph test was when it sank in. That even though I gave the absolute worst fucking first impression, you were giving me a chance. Then the other two were calling me Gavin, and.... I don't know. You messaging me last night with that freaky twin idea was weird and flattering, and...." Now he froze. Knowing he'd regret it later, the male went on. "... to tell you the truth, seeing you wear my shit is... adorable. Like something a girlfriend would do. And... my stupid fucking brain spiraled down from there. Now every time I fuck things up I panic because I don't want you to loathe the sight of me like everyone else. But it's out of control. I fuck up, I panic, you worry about me for some reason, which makes me panic more..."

You took a moment to collect your thoughts. "... when's the last time you actually had any kind of positive attention?" The steady anxiety written all over him seemed to fade for the time being. "I mean, the Captain actually warned me about you, Gavin. So you're notorious in Detroit. And... that's probably why you're losing your shit whenever you think you cross a line. Really, the stuff happening now is tame. A little early, yes, but regardless." You squeezed his hand again. "Every time you think you do something wrong, you freak out. But other than yesterday when we first met, you've done nothing wrong. I think what I'm seeing now is the side of you that got buried under all the arrogance you formed as a result."

His head relaxed against the seat again, but he made no motion to pull from your grasp. "Way to pick me apart, ma'am. Can we please keep these therapy sessions in the car?"

You giggled a little. "Yes, this doesn't leave the car. Now take me home, please."

The drive wasn't awkward like you feared, but Reed was still obviously nervous, nevermoreso than when he'd reached your complex. "You, uh... ahem... shit... can I... w-walk you to your door....?"

"... I'd like that, Gavin. Thank you." Before you could open your door after undoing your seat belt, he held a hand up to stop you. Instead he emerged from his vehicle and went to open your door for you. It was unexpected, but... sweet. "So when did you learn Italian?"

"Mob family," the detective answered. He didn't elaborate, but when you looked over he winked at you. Your aggravated groan only made him cackle, but he led you to your apartment as he asked. "... okay, bullshit aside, this place is the worst. If you need me to look for something safer and less... murder-y, let me know. Please."

Pulling your key out, you nodded and smiled at him. "I think Connor and Hank are trying to help, too. But it would be appreciated all the same, thank you."

The detective fell silent, waiting until you were safely inside the shitty apartment. You'd smiled at him before the door was shut, and he hoped you caught his in exchange... even if it was small. Taking a deep, deep breath Reed returned to his car, getting situated behind the wheel but pausing before leaving the lot. "Sogni d'oro, tesoro mio," Gavin mumbled, knowing damn well you wouldn't hear.

It was probably for the best. He was doing all he could not to have a fucking mental breakdown.

(Don't worry, this is still a Connor x Reader, but... maybe Reed deserves a little redemption.

I also claim no responsibility for how accurate Google Translate is. Lmfao)