Spencer Reid often enjoyed basking in the serene silence of his small Georgetown apartment come nighttime. It was a breathtakingly refreshing departure from the constant ringing of landlines, idle chatter during paperwork hours, tension-filled conversations concerning unsubs and the whirring sounds of the BAU jet. Though what Reid savored the most was an exodus from the continuous reel of his thoughts.
Only in this pure emptiness of sound did Reid allow himself to entirely relax and feel himself sink his bare shoulders against familiar warmth. Only in the stillness did Reid smile as he snuggled further into the embrace of his soundly sleeping lover, Supervisory Special Agent Derek Morgan.
Reid let out a contented sigh, feeling his eyelids slowly lower in their extreme fatigue. Morgan had announced sleep a few minutes ago, falling into a deep slumber only moments after and Reid was okay with that. He knew Morgan slept in a similar fashion to the living dead whereas Reid needed time to wind down, collect his loose thoughts, tuck them neatly away and then prepare for sleep.
And just as Reid felt his eyelashes kiss each other goodnight, a ragged breeze blew his wavy hair up and across from his forehead and a hollow, roaring sound flooded his left ear canal.
What the hell?
He struggled to sit up quickly as Morgan's muscular arms tightened determinately around his waist, constricting any movement on Reid's part whatsoever. Another snuffled wheeze gushed over Reid's ear and jarred his thoughts from sleep. His hazel-y golden eyes were now wide open, assessing the situation in true profiler form.
Was Morgan snoring?
"Derek!" Reid hissed, frustrated that his arms were bound against his naked chest and that he was permitted from turning around to face his boyfriend. Morgan never snored. Why start now? Of all times.
Only silence permeated by snoring was the response heard.
"Morgan!" Reid tried again, pushing his elbows against Morgan's arms in a futile attempt to be free.
Morgan mumbled something incoherent and rolled over, pulling Reid on top of his chest, tightening his grip now across Reid's back.
Reid sighed as his head now lay against his lover's slightly sweaty collarbone. "Babe?" He murmured, using the magic word as a last attempt. Reid hardly ever resorted to calling Morgan anything other than his actual name only because he had never been raised in a household that encourage pet names. Coming from his lips it sounded juvenile, though he was more than happy to accept it as a form of endearment when emitted from Morgan's mouth. Reid had frequently been referred to, outside of Pretty Boy and Kid, baby, sugar and on occasion, cupcake.
Reid pushed himself against Morgan's chest and rolled back onto his side, careful not to disturb his constructed nest of pillows. He leaned up on his elbow and inspected the older agent as a close distance. His eyes travelled over the expanse of Morgan's neck and face, appreciating the dark stubble that softened a sharp jaw line, his slightly curled eyelashes and the small love mark Reid had left just below Morgan's right ear. Reid gave an experimental poke at Morgan's cheek as another snore was emitted.
"Derek!...Morgan! Shhh!" Reid whispered, pinching Morgan's lips together so that he looked like a fish. Reid let a small laugh escape him as he manipulated Morgan's nose so that it pushed up like a pug.
Morgan stirred, running a rough hand over Reid's nose and mouth like he was turning off a light switch.
"Happy birthday, baby boy…." He mumbled thickly, obviously having a dream and turning his head back into the pillow.
Reid raised an eyebrow.
"Morgan!…. My birthday's October 9th!… That was over two months ago!" Reid giggled. He was beginning to rather enjoy this, despite the early hour of 2:23 am that blinked on the alarm clock on the bedside table.
Reid cautiously climbed into Morgan's abdomen so that he straddled him on either side. He then proceeded to clasp Morgan's face on either side and push his cheeks together, smashing them up towards his eyes. He then put his fingers in Morgan's mouth and stretched them outwards so Morgan looked as though he was either dramatically yawning or screaming.
Reid let out an asinine giggle, feeling childishly unbridled. Well, Morgan was disturbing his sleep with his snoring, so it served him right, Reid rationed. What else was he supposed to do?
Always the logical thinker…
A sliver of silver caught Reid's eye as the shadowed light from a passing car glided over the expanse of the ceiling, illuminating Reid's cracked and mangled iPhone. The FBI had insisted on financing them for all the agents after issues with not receiving texts and dropped calls had resulted in harsh words from Strauss. Within mere days of receiving the phone Reid had managed to fling it across the BAU bullpen in a panic from Morgan scaring him by whipping a marshmallow Christmas Peep at his head.
The sailing sugarcoated Christmas tree had resembled a large unidentifiable insect and Reid had just about survived a conniption fit upon contact with the Peep whilst playing an intense game of Words with Friends with Emily.
He had been winning too.
Reid was about to reach for his phone to take a picture and send it to Garcia when another bedside table adornment caught his eye and he had a better idea – rare for a genius, since it seemed all of his thoughts were top-notch- and Reid allowed himself to once again bask in the silent greatness of his plan.
The alarm clock hadn't gone off on that Wednesday morning and when Morgan's phone had finally rung with Garcia's panicked "Did you and Reid die or something?" response, both agents had only the time to grab their clothes, their guns and badges and a bottle of water in the darkness of Reid's apartment before sprinting down the stairs of the apartment block and out to Morgan's car. Reid had almost seemed too happy to be arriving at work when it was still dark outside. So dark in fact that Morgan had barely been able to see out of his mirrors in the car.
And when they finally scrambled into the bullpen, Morgan surreptitiously choking back a whole pack of mints in lieu of not being able to brush his teeth, there again was a silence that blanketed the room. Though this was not the calm sort that had settled in Reid's bedroom earlier last night and into that morning.
Garcia was hurriedly clipping her way down the hall in purple heels and when she reached the men she bit back a laugh as Reid waved his hands behind Morgan in a wide-eyed sort of panic.
"Um…Hey there…Sweetcheeks….Reid." She practically had to stuff her feathery pen into her mouth to prevent herself from laughing out loud at the sight before her.
Hotch was striding down from the stairs, a thick pile of folders wedged under his arm and as he reached the small gathering he stopped short, snorting uncharacteristically.
"I don't think I want to even know what you two clowns were up to last night," he said sternly, though a small smile tugged at the corners of his lips.
Morgan whirled around, his heart pounding. That was the fifth unusual greeting he had received that morning, coming from the security downstairs, up through the elevator to the glass doors of the BAU. The only normal person seemed to be Reid, which was a surprise in itself.
"What the hell is going on? Are we not supposed to be here today? We got a call…" Morgan trailed off as he came to the awareness that everyone was looking curiously at him and trying not to laugh. His eyes slid to his boyfriend but Reid remained fixated on his tartan tie, stuffing his hands into the pockets of his blue FBI jacket.
Hotch coughed, for once unsure of what to say.
It was only then when Emily gathered the confidence to hand him her pocket mirror.
He squinted into the small reflection only to emit a less-than-manly gasp at what he say. His entire face was covered in small doodles that had the wonkiness and artistic flair only known to that of Spencer Reid, sneaky agent extraordinaire. Little blue and black creatures crept up his temples, small speech bubbles spelling out "Zzzzzzzz" in some and "I snore really loud!" in others. Other deities had also snuck their way in and travelled down the length of his neck.
Had Reid drawn on him last night?
"What are you, five years old?" Morgan exclaimed angrily at Reid who seemed to be backing away slowly. Although he tried to be angry, it had to admit that it was a good play on Reid's part. The couple often worked to outsmart each other outside of work and Morgan usually won in the good-natured humiliation department. He stalked around Reid's retreating form, wolfish in his manner as he licked his lips.
Reid clutched his fingers excitedly around the pen in his pocket that he had discovered last night, bracing himself to run. He pulled the sleeves of his jacket over his fingers and widened his stance in preparation. He wondered what would happen when Morgan discovered that the doodles continued far past his face and neck, almost all down his thighs.
"Oh, you better run, kid!" He howled.
"Run, Pretty Boy, run!"
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