Notes: Thanks so much to my lovely beta PJTL156, who was kind enough to point out that Reese favors his left hand. Any mistakes you find here are my own, and I apologize for them. For this fic let's just pretend that while Reese is ambidextrous, using his right hand without his left to anchor things is a pain in the ass.
Disclaimer: Person of Interest is in no way my original work.
Domestic
When Finch walked into their low profile headquarters with that frown riddled across his face Reese idly wondered what had put it there. It didn't redirect him from his current task of eating, which seemed to make Finch frown more, if such was possible. Maybe it was because he had left the medical supplies out when he had patched up his arm, or because he had once again nearly emptied Finch's homemade first aid kit and had left the makeshift medical room a small disaster. He was going to clean it up after dinner.
Perhaps it was the fact he had picked up Chinese again – though Finch had never been one to argue over take out before. It could have been the fact that Reese was devouring the noodles his boss normally kept back for himself. What it most likely was, though, was the fact that Reese hadn't bother with chopsticks or a fork and currently had the container of noodles tipped up to his mouth.
"Might I ask what you're doing, Mr. Reese?" Finch asked without bothering to hide his annoyance.
Lowering the noodles, Reese cocked his head to one side with one of the most innocent looks he could muster and said, "Eating, Finch. What does it look like?" A crooked grin slipped onto his lips before it disappeared behind the carton as the man began to do what Finch could only describe as slurp up his dinner once more. The wealthier man visibly flinched when a stray pea didn't make Reese's mouth and landed on his dress shirt.
"Get your coat."
Reese peered over the top of his dinner and fixed his employer with a look - a look that normally would be worn by Finch. "I'm in the middle of my dinner, Finch. I'm sure it can wait," he ground out. He stared at the other man a moment more before returning to his noodles.
Finch honestly couldn't blame Reese. He'd been eating protein bars for four days straight with their last number. This wasn't going to fly, though. Turning around, Finch repeated, "Get your coat. We're going to dinner."
"I already have dinner," Reese argued with his mouth full. "You can either sit down and have some, or you can leave it for me." He drew the line in the sand and dared the other to cross it.
Finch wasn't one to disappoint. "Get your coat. I'm taking you someplace where food is eaten off of plates with proper utensils and complementary drinks. You might have heard of such a place, it's called a restaurant." Reese raised a brow at him, Finch raised one back. Wordlessly he shifted his left arm forward to emphasize the bandages there. He was using his right hand for a reason.
"You will have to deal with your right hand," Finch continued. "You're a man of many talents, Mr. Reese. Surely a fork won't be too much for you." There was a ghost of a smile in Finch's tone that never made it to his lips when he teased John like this.
"You think you can domesticate me?" Reese countered and his grin brought Finch's out of the shadow to shyly play at the smaller man's lips.
"I hope to try. If I'm lucky I might get you to use a napkin."
Reese willingly laughed at that and got up to slowly ease his injured arm into his coat. Feeling successful, Finch took this time to put the Chinese in the fridge. They could always eat it for lunch tomorrow.
Notes: PJTL156 commented that it might be cute to show them at the restaurant, which was an idea I had been toying with as well. If more people are interested, drop a review and I'll see what I can come up with. ;3
