A/N: Hey there! This is just a PWP, humorous one shot with a little slashy sexy-times thrown in, and a teensy bit of bad language. Reviews are much appreciated!
Seds
Juliet:
"What's in a name? That which we call a rose
By any other name would smell as sweet."
Romeo and Juliet (II, ii, 1-2)
Derek Morgan's bedroom, 2:00 AM.
It was pitch black outside, no hint of the moon's presence in the sky. The room was dimly lit by a small lamp on the nightstand that washed a yellow glow over the pair making love in Morgan's bed. The lamp was a compromise, enough to keep waking nightmares at bay while not bright enough to interfere with Morgan's sleep.
Compromise, Morgan had learned, was the key to a happy life with Spencer Reid.
Morgan was making throaty, guttural noises as he thrust powerfully into his lover. Reid moaned-soft barely-there sounds punctuated by the occasional cry of "Derek! Oh, God... Derek..." Simple expressions which made Morgan feel fantastic, and spurred him to make his lover emit even more delightful cries and moans.
It was cool and warm in the room at the same time. The AC blew frigid air from a vent that made Morgan's backside tingle, while Reid's warm body was a hot-cocoa temperature that made Morgan feel molten, ready to ignite. Reid's hands moved over him, applying warmth to the cool of his shoulders, his back. Morgan groaned.
"Baby..." he breathed. "My angel-" Morgan shifted Reid's legs higher and plunged deeper, and Reid's choked, "Oh, God, Derek-fuck!" brought a response of "Spencer! Goddamn-fuck, baby, that's-" followed by a grunt of orgasm, and he released into Reid's body a flood of warm liquid pleasure.
"Derek," Reid gasped brokenly.
"Baby boy... Sweetheart, I love you so much," Morgan murmured into Reid's ear. "You're my precious angel, you know that? My precious baby..." He wasn't consciously choosing the words tumbling out of his mouth, they just came in the wake of his physical release-loving, comforting words meant to wrap Reid in his love the way he wrapped him in safe, secure arms and tucked him against his body, under the covers, to keep him warm and protected as they slept.
Reid's breathing was evening out, and as Morgan rolled off of him and gathered him close, he spoke more clearly. "Derek-I love you, too. Mm, you feel good." He wriggled even closer, burrowing into Morgan the way he tended to do when he was ready to settle into sleep.
Morgan idly played with a strand of his hair and regarded him in the soft light. Beautiful. With his eyes closed, long dark lashes resting against pale skin, the ever-present twitch of facial muscles temporarily eased, he looked like a debauched choir boy-innocent, yet utterly sated in a most carnal way, and it made Morgan smile.
"My baby..." he whispered tenderly. That made Reid smile.
"Good night, Derek. I love you."
"Good night, angel. Sleep well." Morgan gently caressed Reid's face. Angel. He called him that a lot these days; only in bed, of course, but it was a fitting term for the young man that had saved him in so many ways. And, "baby," he used that too, because at the same time that he needed Reid, he also treasured him, wanted to protect him from the unimaginable turmoil that roiled in his brain as well as the unspeakable terrors that they routinely faced on the job.
Angel. Baby. Sweetheart. All loving endearments that slipped out during and after sex, but which were always on the tip of his tongue, always being squelched at the office, where he resorted to the work-safe "kid" or "man" or "youngster" or, sardonically, "pretty boy."
"Babe" was his every-day name for his lover when they were at home, cooking, doing dishes, watching television and such. "Hand me the remote, will you, babe?" "Babe, have you seen my car keys?" "Hey, babe! Come outside, look what Clooney's doing!" An all-purpose term, good for any occasion. "Aw, babe! What the hell..." "Babe! What do you mean, we're going to a lecture? There's a game on tonight, and..." "Dammit, babe, I asked you not to stack your books there, I nearly killed myself when I came around the corner-"
He could make up teasing terms on the spot: "Romeo" when he saw Reid notice a pretty girl, or "tough guy" when Reid was meticulously cleaning his gun, or "hot stuff" when Reid put on certain outfits that made his ass look especially delectable or added a touch of sophistication to his otherwise geeky wardrobe. It was Morgan's way, and Reid never seemed to mind.
Nor did he reciprocate.
A slight frown crossed Morgan's face and a bit of irritation jerked him back from the edge of sleep. He tried to think-did Reid have any pet names for him? Ever? Morgan mulled it over for a while, and-no, he didn't think he did. Never once had Reid ever called him anything but "Morgan" or, later, "Derek." Oh, he called him names, all right-"jerk," "smartass," "asshole," "ill-natured, inconsiderate Neanderthal" and the like, but as far as affectionate nicknames or terms of endearment were concerned-nothing. Not even a "sweetie" or "honey" when they were companionably working in the yard together or folding laundry while watching the news.
"Spencer?"
One eye opened and peered at him inquiringly. "Yes?"
Morgan shifted so that he could look at Reid face-to-face. "Any particular reason you never call me anything but 'Derek?'"
"Huh?" Reid's sleepy contentment vanished. He wasn't particularly savvy about relationships, but he knew enough to sense that something not-so-good was about to go down, and he forced himself into alert mode. "What do you mean?"
"You know, like 'babe' or 'sugar' or something like that."
Reid blinked. "You want me to call you 'sugar?'" His incredulousness came through the rasp of sleep.
"No, not that, necessarily, I just wondered-why you don't, you know, come up with any affectionate nicknames for me." Morgan was beginning to feel stupid, and judging by the look on Reid's face, he realized he was about to regret bringing it up at all.
"Uh... because I'm an adult male who isn't given to such fanciful tendencies?"
"Excuse me?"
"I mean, I'm just not... I don't know, I don't think in those terms. I don't indulge in vapid metaphors. Take the term 'baby.' You're not a baby. Babies are helpless and unhygienic, while you're strong and capable. You're, you know, 'Derek,' you embody the essential qualities of 'Derek-ness,' so to speak. That's who you are, and so, I address you as such. 'Derek.'" He frowned and let the name linger in the air. "'Derek,'" he repeated. "What's wrong with that?"
"Nothing! I'm just wondering why you don't ever call me anything else..." He looked sheepishly at Reid. "Don't you have any romantic feelings for me at all?"
Now, Reid sat up and gathered the covers around him. "Romantic? Romantic? You think my lack of idiotic pet names for you are an indication of disinterest in you as my partner? Really?" Reid rolled his eyes and shook his head. "I tell you I love you all the time! Isn't that sufficient?"
"Hey, I'm not trying to pick a fight, here. I just wondered why-"
"Why I'm so weird?"
"Yeah!" Seeing the aggravation in Reid's eyes turn to hurt made Morgan hasten to backtrack. "I mean, no! You're not, uh, weird at all, it's just-"
"I'm socially inept and utterly inexperienced at being in a serious relationship, I know that. I get it. So, you want me to come up with some sort of bizarre, vaguely demeaning endearments for you in order to signify my devotion, is that it?"
"No! I don't want-wait, demeaning? You think that when I call you 'babe,' it's demeaning?"
Reid wisely paced himself and answered slowly. "No-o-o... I know you don't mean it that way. But, by calling your partner 'babe', it suggests that a parent-child archetype exists in the relationship. Not literally of course, I'm referring to Jung, but I do believe it's a subtle way of reinforcing the idea of a dominant personality over the more submissive-"
"Dominant? Submissive? What the hell, Reid-"
"No, no, I'm not saying that that's what I feel you're expressing, not at all. I'm very comfortable with the dynamics of our relationship. It's just that, if you want to analyze why I don't use those terms, I feel it's equally valid to take a look at why you do."
A sneer crossed Morgan's face. "Oh, I see-you think I'm trying to keep the man down, huh?"
"No, Derek, for God's sake, you're the one who brought this up. I'm going to give you my honest opinion, I'd think you'd know that by now."
Morgan didn't answer, just pursed his lips in thought. "So, you don't like it when I call you 'angel,' or 'baby?'"
Reid's irritation faded and his expression softened. "I didn't say that." He smiled. "Actually... I love it when you call me those things. I understand it's your way of communicating the depth of your love and affection for me. I treasure that, and I wouldn't change a thing." He put his arms around Morgan and kissed him deeply. "But, God, Derek-please don't think that because I don't express myself in the same way it means I don't feel those things for you. I love you, I adore you-I'd do anything for you. Just... please don't ask me to call you 'sugar.' It would not be sincere."
Morgan laughed. "Okay. I get it. You are who you are, and I wouldn't change you, either." He drew Reid closer. "But, you are my baby. And, that's a fact, no matter how you want to interpret it."
"Well, good. That's okay with me..." Reid settled back onto Morgan's chest, and the room was completely silent for a moment. Then-"...cupcake."
Morgan's eyes widened. "What?"
"'Pumpkin?' 'Muffin?' 'Dumpling?' I'd think you'd prefer a food-based metaphor..."
"Wha-"
"Or, how about animals? 'Bunny?' 'Kitten?' 'Lambchop?' Oh, wait, that could be food, too. 'Teddy bear?'"
"Reid, you are starting to piss me off-"
"Something more elemental? 'Sunshine?' 'God of Thunder?' Hmm, that's a little too Garcia-esque. How about 'dewdrop?'"
"Listen, I'm going to-"
"What about 'My Treasure?'"
"No!"
"'Tiger?'"
"Boy, am I sorry I ever-" Morgan stopped short. "'Wait-did you say 'tiger?''
"Uh-huh." Reid looked up, nodding and suppressing a grin. "Like that, do you?"
Morgan brightened. "Uh, well... Yeah, actually."
"Okay. Tiger it is."
Morgan looked into Reid's mischievous eyes and smiled. "Okay. Good night, baby."
"Good night, tiger."
They kissed tenderly and snuggled in for sleep. Suddenly, Morgan's eyes popped open. "Spencer?"
A muffled huff. "Yes?"
"That's just for at home, right? When we're in bed?"
"Whatever you say, buttercup."
Morgan sighed. "I deserved that, didn't I?"
"Yes, my peach."
"Goodnight, Reid.
"Sweet dreams, Morgan." Silence again fell in the room. Then: "Pudding."
Morgan raised his eyes to the ceiling, understanding the hopelessness of the situation. "So, that's how it's gonna be, is it? You got any more?"
"No, that was the last one I could think of."
"Good."
"For tonight, anyway."
Morgan nodded. "You're going to do research tomorrow, aren't you?"
"Oh, yeah."
"I love you."
"I'm glad." Reid gave him a sweet smooch and this time, he allowed Morgan to drift into well-deserved slumber.
He thought he'd reserve the term "angel-drawers" for in the morning.