Hello! :)
There are several reasons why Criminal Minds has recently become one on my favourite shows, and I've realised that the chemistry between Morgan and Reid is incredible is probably the main reason.
I've read quite a few Morgan/Reid fics here and most are very well written – but here's my shot at it. I'm pretty proud of this. Not sure where it's going right now but hey, it'll be cool if you guys are along for the ride.
Oh and this is all my own work – any similar material to other works are just coincidences.
Enjoy! And if you like it and would like it to be continued, please leave a review!
Thomas Merton once wrote: "Love is our true destiny. We do not find the meaning of life by ourselves alone. We find it with another."
CHAPTER ONE: Drinking To Stop The Thinking
He's not meant to be thinking.
That's the whole purpose of why Morgan's at the local loud, crowded Pittsburgh club; downing tequila shots as if they were water. He doesn't want to think about their most recent case. He doesn't want to remember the pictures of the gruesome rape and murders of four teenage boys. He doesn't even want to know the truth of how the case ended – how a fifth victim was killed right in front of him, because he pulled the trigger a fraction of a second too late.
But he does; he can still see thing so clearly – even in the poor lighting of the basement they had found the UnSub in.
Morgan feels a tap on his shoulder, and he bets it's another girl asking him if he wants to dance with them. There have been quite a few tonight and he really isn't in the mood for soft curves and strawberry shampoo. He just wants to forget about his week here, kill a few hours with some sleep, and board the plane tomorrow for Quantico.
"Morgan,"
He sighs and his head is starting to throb in a way where he knows he's had too much to drink. Shifting his stance slowly so as to not to intensify his headache, he meets concerned honey-coloured eyes.
"Are you alright?" Reid asks, chewing on his lip as he does.
Morgan lets out a bitter laugh, throwing back another drink vigorously. The liquid burns his throat a little, but he's used to the pain now.
"What do you want, kid?"
There's a flash of shock on Reid's pale face, before he frowns and crosses his lanky arms over his chest. Morgan's aware that there's a 'no profiling each other' rule but he ignores it.
"To make sure you're alright," he answers simply. "I thought that was obvious,"
"Kid, this is like – my seventh shot?" Morgan gestures to his glass, "Doesn't take a genius to know if I'm okay or not,"
The music is loud and Morgan isn't entirely sure if Reid's heard what he's said, because he doesn't say anything. Instead, he takes a seat next to Morgan and orders himself a coke.
"You really shouldn't drink anymore Morgan," Reid suggests. He's shouting over the buzzing music and the sound of cheers and laughter, but Morgan can detect sincerity in his voice.
"I had food before this," Morgan rebuts, ordering a beer this time, "I'll be fine,"
Reid stirs his coke with the thin straw in his drink before taking small, careful sips. Morgan watches him tuck a stray strand behind his ear; a habit of his when he's concentrating hard on whatever text he's reading in front of him, or when he's thinking about the right way to phrase whatever he's about to say next. He's only had that new, trendy hair cut – the one with the clean-cut sides and curly top – for a few weeks now and it's already getting unkempt; yet oddly enough, Morgan wants to push the locks to tidy and mess it up at the same time.
"You know, when ingested, alcohol is absorbed into the bloodstream through the stomach and the small intestine. The presence of food in the stomach does reduce the rate at which the alcohol is absorbed into our system; however it doesn't prevent intoxication. In fact, all alcohol consumed will –"
"Not the time for your rambling, pretty boy," Morgan squeezes his eyes shut and rubs his temples gingerly. "I can barely process my own words before they leave my mouth,"
Reid doesn't reply when he spots Hotch and Rossi coming over to the bar.
"I think I'm too old for the club scene nowadays," Rossi chuckles, patting Morgan's back. "I'm going to head back to the hotel,"
"And I'm taking him because it's time I get some sleep too," Hotch smiles. He doesn't do it often, but when he does, it definitely takes you surprise.
"See you later then," Morgan gruffly farewells. He returns to his drink and overhears Reid apologising on behalf of him for his behaviour.
"The case was definitely a difficult one, especially given Morgan's past," Hotch reasons, "I'll let Morgan know he can take some personal time if he needs in the morning,"
And with that, Rossi and Hotch leave the club.
"Did you hear that?"
Morgan raises an eyebrow at him, ignoring his question as he gets up to leave. Reid realises he isn't going to get anything except blank looks and vague answers from Morgan, but that doesn't stop him from trying. So, instinctively, he stands and reaches an arm out and encircles his skinny fingers around Morgan's muscular arm.
Morgan's breath hitches. He isn't sure why and he sure isn't going to question it because most of his brain has already shut down for the day. The rational side of his brain – or what's left of it – decides that because Reid isn't a very touchy-feely person, so he, clearly, is overcome with surprise that he had initiated the physical contact.
"Stop being so stubborn," Morgan slurs out.
Ah, he can definitely see the effects of the alcohol now.
"I'm not," Reid defends, "I'm just trying to be a friend and help you in your time of inebriation,"
"Really? And how about all the times you've done things solo?" Morgan bites out. His body is now completely angled with Reid's – perhaps a little too close since their chests are almost touching – and he feels angry. "You could've been killed countless times, Reid, and I let you put yourself in danger because I trust you. Could you maybe do the same for me?"
It's silent for a moment, but it's broken when Morgan hears a quiet laugh.
"Countless is a little exaggerated, don't you think?" Reid says, as he ducks his head; suddenly finding his shoes more interesting than Derek's face.
Even though the only source of light in the vicinities were the strobe lights and the dim fluorescent bulbs that gave the whole bar an eerie orange glow, Morgan could see the tips of Reid's ears redden.
And for some strange reason, that cracks a tiny smile on Morgan's face.
"I don't want to think about all the times I've almost lost you, pretty boy,"
The words come out more sombre than he intended them to be. Reid tries to hide his disbelief when he realises Morgan says 'I' instead of 'we', and he doesn't do a very good job at it because even drunk Morgan catches on.
"The BAU wouldn't be the same without you, Spencer," he croaks aloud. Somehow, his slurring of speech has diminished considerably and his thoughts are clearer than ever now when Morgan just lets things naturally roll of his tongue – especially the younger agent's first name.
One of Reid's adorable toothy grins spreads itself across his face and Morgan feels a little dizzier than before. But as soon as he sees it, it's gone again, as Reid clears his throat and releases his grip on him – one that Morgan had long forgot about.
"Thanks…Derek," Reid responds. Hesitation laces his voice – as if he isn't quite sure whether to believe Morgan or not. "I'm going to head back to the hotel now. Have a good night,"
Reid's shoulder brushes against Morgan's arm and these weird prickly sensations abruptly arise at the contact. Morgan's eyelids want to close now and his ability to see Reid becomes a bit hazy, but before the genius is completely out of his line of sight, Reid turns around swiftly; hair tousling to the side a little and shouts: "Don't drink anymore though, Morgan!"
Morgan lets out a dry laugh, watching Reid's form leave the club. Before he can even turn around and order a glass of water, a flock of blonde girls, clad in low-cut dresses, offer to buy Morgan a drink for a dance. He can't seem to form a coherent 'yes' or dazzle them brilliantly with what Garcia calls his 'panties-dropping' grin, so he just nods and gestures to the empty seat beside him.
Talking to the girls is easy enough, even when he's ready to admit he really shouldn't be having the extra beer. They don't delve into any substantially complex topics and Morgan just has to smile and they'll giggle and touch him in a way he doesn't really want tonight. He thinks he's hallucinating a few times because sometimes, when he doesn't blink straight away, he can almost see a familiar someone with pale skin and kind eyes sitting in place of the girls, still drinking his coke.
Eventually, he excuses himself and buys the girls a free round of shots to say 'thanks for the free drink' and 'sorry for not sleeping with any of you tonight'. He may be drunk, but Morgan is still a gentleman. They all seem a little disappointed but he doesn't stick around for them to reply.
The night air hits him like a tonne of bricks; his teeth chatter slightly and he immediately regrets his choice of coming out tonight without a jacket – or coming out at all. But the promise of white sheets and a hot shower call for him, so Morgan bears with the cold and slowly walks back to the hotel; his thoughts of his horrific week being replaced with images of a certain genius and his ugly argyle sweater vests.
So what do you guys think? Should I continue this? As mentioned before, not sure where this is going right now but whatever it is, it shall consist of delicious Morgan/Reid hehe.
Also, constructive criticism is appreciated – as well as praises and compliments haha ;)
inspire-the-writer-x3
