This is my Christmas story, written for a writer by the name of peanutmeg! I hope you enjoy! :D
My assigned pairing was Reid and Morgan (yummy, right? :3) I had four prompts (The Holly and the Ivy, sugar Christmas cookies, snow, and a childhood Christmas tree ornament) but could only find a way to incorporate three of them, but that was the requirement, so... YAY! :D
A MERRY CHRISTMAS TO ALL, AND TO ALL A GOOD NIGHT. *bows*
Disclaimer: I do not own Criminal Minds and anything cannon belongs to CBS.
Derek Morgan was most definitely happy. Today was the last day of the year he would spend inside the BAU. Christmas was coming and nothing was going to stop him from having a little fun with one of his favorite holidays. He already had it planned out to go visit his mom later the next week, after getting some time to himself. It was going to be a good day, he told himself, as he stood in the break room above the lower layer of the BAU's headquarters, twisting a small plastic spoon around in his mug of thick and rich black coffee. From time to time, he'd glance down to the dark liquid inside, making sure it wasn't melting the cheap utensil, but the rest of the time, he was focused on Supervisory Special Agent Doctor Spencer Reid.
The young lean man could be clearly seen from the broad window of the coffee room and Morgan, though he wasn't one to stare, continued to watch the younger man shuffle around his cubicle in a rushed yet timely fashion. He wavered through piles of paper and then moved to the filing cabinets where he was searching tabs endlessly, finishing his quest through those in moments alone.
Derek brought his cup to his thinly parted lips, letting the substance trickle down his esophagus and into his stomach where the only thing he was hungry for was Doctor Spencer Reid. He licked his lips, oddly because they were becoming dry and not to show how much he really wished to just take Reid in.
The genius continued to scurry around his workplace as Derek looked through the stainless glass once more. He wasn't sure what was going on with the younger man, but it seemed to be something that was affecting him in a way he didn't want to be affected. He looked rushed, a little panicked, and tired. More tired than he should be if he got the right amount of coffee that morning.
The man behind the glass sighed, taking another sip of the black coffee in his mug before setting the ceramic down on one of the white tables the room held and walking briskly down the stairs to arrive at his destination. He appeared at the end of Spencer's cubicle but it seemed that the latter didn't even notice his presence. A frown slipped out from his bottom lip, and he pulled it back before it even made itself clear.
"Hey, Pretty Boy," Derek said, lifting his chin slightly to make the fact that he was watching the doctor a little more obvious as the latter continued to shuffle through papers that were now all over his desk. The boy was still desperately looking for something yet the other agent knew not what. Derek quirked his lips to the side in wonder, continuing to watch the doctor throw around the nicely placed stacks of papers on his desk. In a matter of seconds, his work area was already a disaster.
Morgan reached his hand out this time, trying once again to retrieve the man's attention. "Pretty Boy," he repeated, his hand hitting the others man's skin, causing a flinch under his palm and the younger one to turn jerkily turn towards him in a one smooth yet rash movement.
"What, Morgan?" Spencer asked tensely, staring at him intently before pulling his eyes away and directing them towards the mess that was occupying the top of his desk. He was obviously distraught about the disaster that he was creating, but at the moment there was something else holding precedence.
Derek frowned. Normally Spencer was fine in the morning. Then again, that was if he had the right amount of coffee. The older man took hold of the genius's wrist, causing the doctor to look up at him again. "What's wrong?"
Reid snapped his arm back. Morgan seriously wanted to know what the hell was wrong with him. "I don't have time for questions right now, Morgan. The paperwork I was supposed to do last night isn't here and Hotch wants it as soon as possible." He shuffled through papers once again, haphazardly decorating the floor with them.
Morgan watched him for a moment before piping up: "Are you talking about the files for the McMurray case?"
Reid's eyes shot up, the pupils dancing in midst of the brown orbs that filled his sockets. "You know where it is?"
Morgan nodded, his eyes looking questionably wary. "I handed them to Prentiss last night before we headed off. You said you didn't want to worry about them and she said she could handle them because she's used to pushing her work onto you." He shrugged, focusing his eyes behind Reid since said Emily Prentiss was walking through the doors that separated the real world from the bullpen. "She's here now if you want to ask for them. But, man, you might want to cool your jets. Prentiss won't like being jumped as she walks in by some hyper tensioned genius that can practically live off caffeine alone. Get some coffee. I thought you were gonna bite my head off."
Reid followed Derek's eyes and focused his attention on the brunette entering the room. "Okay, thanks, Morgan."
Derek refocused his eyes as the genius started to walk away; he glanced down at the younger man's ass, giving a small smirk that told the crowd of no one that he was satisfied. "Hey, Reid?"
The young doctor twisted his head around before moving his body so that they matched, his deep brown doe eyes shining as the fluorescent light from the ceiling lights hit them at the perfect angle. Morgan could have died right then and there; Pretty Boy was absolutely gorgeous. "Yes?"
Derek smiled lightly now, easing tension away and ridding his face of the smirk driven by his own arousal. "Don't forget the coffee."
Spencer's face glowed for a few moments, his face beaming in what some would call glee. He licked his lips and turned away, ready to chase down Prentiss for his papers. "Wouldn't dream of it," he replied, speaking loud enough for the other man to hear.
Behind him, Morgan gave a hearty chuckle as he watched the autodidact scamper off to take back what was 'rightfully his' and hand it in to the boss-man.
Later that evening, Derek Morgan stood in his kitchen, nodding his head back and forth as loud music plummeted from the stereo across his house. He continued to let the music take him and his thoughts away from work and he neared the sink, flipping the tap on and pressing foamy soap into his dark hands covered in cookie dough.
He was never one to cook, but he was damn fine at it. There was just something so nice about making Christmas cookies, he just didn't know what. Was it the cute little cut outs of trees and ornaments that you got to cover in thick and colorful frosting? Maybe the way they tasted right out of the oven? Or possibly the bright look on someone's face when they received them as gifts?
Morgan didn't care, though, because the feeling was wondrous and practically completed him. It was something so great and comforting to know that the holidays were coming around when you made the delightful treats. And you could do anything with them! It wasn't like some cookies where it was weird to frost or decorate them. It was like a pure and open canvas that could you paint however you wanted to. Sprinkles, chocolates, frosting, candies, nuts, dried fruit, you could even make colored sugar cookies with a few drops of food coloring! It was the most perfect thing to do, because no matter who you were making them for, you could style them just for them.
After washing his hands, he ran them through a soft and plushy white hand towel with small blue snowflakes on the end. There was nothing better than clean hands, making cookies, nice music, and a warm home at this time of year.
He rubbed his hands together to create what some would believe is warmth and then moved back towards the dough sitting on the west counter of his kitchen. He grinned, popping some of the substance in his mouth and picked up some more, placing it on a cookie sheet and mending it down to be cut out. A few minutes passed as he filled three sheets with the dough and started to search through the back of his pantry for the cutouts.
Before now, the music had continued at the same volume and the words pulsated from the speakers but for some reason the beats were cut off and a voice, booming through the stereo, spoke instead. "You, man, have a phone call. Better answer it before they presume you're dead."
Okay, so his ringtone probably wasn't good for someone who risked his life every day, but it was mostly him that heard it so it wasn't really that big of a deal.
He ran his hands through the water once again, cleaning them of dough before he walked into his entertainment room and picked the phone up as he detached it from the cord that connected it to the stereo. 'Reid,' the phone read and Morgan sighed as he saw it. What did the kid want now? It was vacation and they barely got time off. Why was he calling him? He felt weird thinking it, but he was happy that the younger man had decided to contact him. Talking to something so sweet and eating cookies so delicious could have a real impact on a guy.
Morgan hit the small green button on the bottom of the phone, placing it up next to his ear. "Hey, Pretty Boy. What's up?"
On the other end of the line, Dr. Spencer Reid heaved in a breath and began to speak rapidly. "Sorry for calling, Morgan. I know we're on vacation and all and I didn't want to have to bug you or anything since I know that I didn't want to be bugged but I figured that you'd be the best of help since I have no idea what I'm doing-"
"Reid, what the hell are you talking about?"
The genius sighed again, obviously distraught. "My heater just froze up and I don't know how to fix it. Would you by any chance?"
Derek quirked his lips to the side in ponder and thought for a moment. Wasn't Reid supposed to be in Las Vegas? But besides that, it really depended on what type of heater the kid had and that was going to take forever to find out because—even though the kid had a miraculous memory—Morgan doubted he knew that in the first place. "Well, uh, it all really depends on what kind of system you have and such, it could take hours." Morgan moved the phone to his other hand and shifted his weight onto his left foot.
"I, well, I guess that makes sense."
Morgan frowned, biting his lip so that it was fitting snugly under his top row of teeth. The genius was going to be out of heat for an entire night and then most likely right after he got back from visiting his mom. The older agent sighed, glancing downwards knowing what the kindness of his heart had to do. "Hey, Reid, if you're going to be out of heat, why don't you come over and spend the night? Then you can get ready here before leaving to visit your mom in the morning. You can shower and stuff, too, just bring the things you need. Sometimes after a heater goes out, the water bulb will crash, so if you have any clothes or anything you need washed when you're away, I can get them. Clooney and I are going to be home for the first week of vacation then later next week I'm heading out to Chicago, so I'd have time to help you and stuff." He stopped, feeling as if he was trailing on and on, not even getting to a point. He glanced his eyes towards the side of his head, watching the phone pressed to his ear. "What do you say?" He watched his feet for a moment, slightly nervous at the answer he would get from the younger man. His heart felt like a humming bird inside his chest, continuing to flap its small wings with a rhythmic pattern.
For a moment, there was no noise coming from the other end of the phone. Morgan stood in kitchen, continuing to shift his weight from foot to foot before pulling himself up on the counter he wasn't using to make cookies, and put the phone back to his ear.
"-don't want to impose or anything. I think I can deal without heat for one night, besides I need to get up early and get ready-"
"Reid, just slow down for a second." The genius said nothing. "Okay, I offered. It's not like you're asking to come in or anything, it was my idea-"
"Bu-"
"Wait, genius, let me continue," Morgan re-interrupted, taking a heaving sigh. "And anyway, spending the night in a cold apartment building and then having to get up in the morning and then using a cold shower isn't going to help you-"
"Morgan-"
"Reid, I expect to see you over here in the next thirty minutes."
The line was quiet for a while and Derek wondered if something was wrong. Was he too forceful? Did Reid just really not want to spend the night? Why wasn't he saying anything?
And then, "All right. I'll be over shortly. Thanks, Morgan."
Morgan waved his hand in the air and then shook his head, realizing the other man couldn't see him. "It's not a problem, Kid. I'm here anytime."
"Yeah…" Spencer trailed off, and by the time Morgan looked down at the screen of his phone, 'call ended' was flashing at the top. For the next couple minutes, he may as well get back to making cookies. He doubted the fact he get anything done with Boy Genius here. It was hard enough trying to work in the office. But he did the right thing, and they were just cookies… Right?
No, they were Christmas itself. Even if Reid was here, he was going to finish making these bad boys. There was no way he was stopping now. Except to, maybe, think about the younger man who would be inside his house only moments from now. He couldn't concentrate on the job sometimes, and now the genius was going to be in his house? How was it going to end up? What was going to happen? Morgan could only fantasize-
BRING!
Like the depths of his sub-consciousness had a connection to the oven, the cookies were half way done. One more pan to make and then decoration was in order. It was going to be a long night.
At the noise of a group of three raps against the front door to his apartment, Derek Morgan removed himself from his plush beige couch and approached the door. Looking through the peep hole, he opened the door at the sight of a very gorgeous Spencer Reid. "Hey," the older agent said, making the gap between door and wall a little bit wider so that the genius could actually get inside. Once they were both in, Morgan secured the door shut, clicked the lock on and switching over the deadbolt. He turned over his shoulder, glancing at the other man who looked absolutely out of place.
"Thanks again, Morgan. You know, you really didn't have to do this. I could have made in one night without heat-"
Reid stopped talking when Morgan put up a hand to him. "I did what I felt necessary, Reid. Like you said, it's not that big of a deal, so accept the kindness and just stay the night." The words might have been cold coming from someone else, but when Morgan smiled as he spoke them Reid told himself not to bring it up again. It wasn't that big of a deal and one night in Morgan's house wasn't going to kill him.
"So, what were you doing before I called?" Spencer asked, dropping the subject and moving onto something else. For the best, he noted, when Morgan grinned.
"Sugar cookies," Derek said, moving from the foyer into the kitchen and taking a few platters out of his silver fridge.
It was the first time Reid had ever gone this far into Morgan's house and he was surely perplexed about the space. He had expected Morgan to have exercise equipment and other games like air hockey or ping pong around his house, but thus far, the only things he had seen was a nicely decorated entrance way with three plants, one a poinsettia, and a couple book shelves he could make out from the hallway connecting the first room to the kitchen. It was a nice apartment, Spencer thought, still watching the room and taking in other surroundings that he might not have caught the first time.
The kitchen wasn't small or anything, a lot bigger that what Spencer was familiar with, and he loved how more than one person would be able to fit in the room. There was a bar side, a few stools on the opposing plane, hanging cabinets over that, and matching cabinetry throughout the entire room. A nice stove with a disconnected oven, a triple-sink, and a massive refrigerator that would probably fit all the food Spencer had eaten in the last year.
The genius stood there for another moment before Morgan looked up from the plates he had gathered and directed his attention at the other man. "Reid, don't just stand there. Set your stuff down and come here for a minute. I'm better at cooking than Garcia makes me out to be."
Spencer snapped back into reality and gave the agent a smile before setting his suitcase to the floor along with a tag-along black duffel bag. He could smell the baked goods from the hallway and practically floated into the kitchen from there once had really put his mind to it. "Do you bake often?" he asked, appearing before Morgan at the edge of the bar.
The older man glanced up again at the doctor and waved his hand so that the latter would come closer. "Only when I know I have time to; make them and eat them, I mean. Here-" Derek pulled a cookie off the tray and handed it to the younger man, "-try it. I think they're great, but then again, I am the baker. Tell me what you think."
Spencer gave Derek a skeptical looking face and then Morgan gave him one in return, except his was feigned and Spencer only laughed. Taking the cookie into his hand, Reid put it up to his mouth and took a bite of the delicious treat. His eyes widened and he glanced over at Morgan, who was grinning. After he finished chewing the bite, he opened his mouth to speak before Morgan interrupted him.
"Good, huh? You can bring a couple to your mom, if you like."
The younger man nodded a couple times, so quickly it reminded Morgan of a bobble-head, and the other laughed. "You're right, Morgan. Garcia doesn't give you enough credit."
Derek smirked and put the plates away as Spencer put the rest of the cookie into his mouth, taking another off the tray before Morgan placed them back inside the depths of his fridge. The older man laughed, shutting the freezer box, shaking his head at the younger agent and then moved to the foyer and grabbed Spencer's bags. The doctor ran over, trying to take back his belongings, but Morgan wouldn't let him. "Finish your cookie and follow me to the guest room. I'll show you the rest of my pad," he said, Spencer following on his tail, and then the two arrived at the secondary bedroom.
"You can stay in here tonight," Morgan continued, watching Reid glance around the room. "The bathroom's right through there-" he pointed at a brown door next to the closet "-and my room's right down the hall. Make yourself at home."
Dr. Reid nodded at the older man and gave him a small smile before taking his suitcase and plopping it on the bed. Slicing the side open with the black zipper, he opened the case and pulled out a book. Morgan frowned, watching him, and sighed in the moments following. "You're going to read?"
Spencer looked at him oddly. "You told me to make myself at home. At home, I read. Sometimes research, but mostly read. And I'm almost done with this book anyway. It should only take me a couple minutes to finish."
The younger man pulled himself onto the bed and Morgan shook his head as the genius opened the book a little over halfway through and skimmed the page for a couple split seconds before continuing and flipping over to the next page.
"I'll be in the kitchen. I need to finish frosting some of the cookies." Morgan left the room, about to close the door behind him when Reid spoke up, eyes lifting from the book.
"Can you not frost some of them? I'd like to taste the original Derek Morgan creation."
Derek laughed and told the younger man what he wanted to hear before shutting the door to his spare bedroom. He headed out to his kitchenette, humming some tune he caught on the radio earlier, and glanced into the living room. He probably should have tidied up before Reid got there, he noted, but it wasn't that big of a deal. There were some magazines sitting out and a couple of DVDs on the player, minus the empty case on the coffee table since the disc was still inside. Derek entered the living room and sat on the beige couch he had resting a foot from the west wall. While he fumbled with the magazines on top, he thought about his companion for the evening.
For some reason, he was getting that odd premonition that Reid wasn't here because of a furnace mishap. Then again, that could also be him just wishing those were Reid's intentions, clouding his judgment, making him believe the younger agent wanted him back. He got those little feelings a lot nowadays, so maybe it was nothing and he was just thinking about it too hard. If he had hair, he probably would have pulled it out by now. For a moment, he almost stopped to laugh at that thought, but then:
"Hey, Morgan, may I have something to drink?"
The older agent turned his head towards the other and gave him a look that just said, 'Really? Speak of the devil and the devil shall appear.' He sighed, getting up off the couch and walked into the kitchen with Reid hot on his tail.
"If you want something from now on, don't ask for it. Just come and get it."
Spencer blushed nervously, obviously embarrassed. "Sorry, Morgan, I just didn't know what you had or where it was or if certain things were for only certain occasions-"
"Reid," Derek said, looking at the agent until his eye contact was guaranteed. "I said from now on. I understand." He opened the fridge, poking his head inside for a moment. "There's milk, some OJ, and some Gatorade. I think I have Kool-Aid packets in the pantry, I'm just not sure."
"Just a question, but do you drink soda?"
Morgan removed himself from the fridge and looked up at the young doctor who seemed genuinely curious. And so cute! "No, actually. Well, not anymore; I used to have probably a couple cans a day and I noticed that I was getting tired quickly and now, well, it's easily improved. And it helps my work performance not to drink any type of carbonated beverage."
Spencer nodded; he taking in what Morgan had just said, but was still wondering when the man made the change. It seemed like last week the guy was chugging down Mountain Dew and Pepsi.
"It was around two months ago," Derek answered without Reid even having to ask. The older man just knew what was darting around in the genius's mind. Well, that part. There was no way Derek knew everything Spencer thought of. "Anyway, is there anything catching your eye? I don't want to leave the fridge open too long."
"Oh," Spencer said, mind racing back to the topic at hand. "Milk, OJ, Gatorade, maybe Kool-Aid in the pantry. Hm. I think I'll just have milk, if that's all right."
"No problem-o," Morgan said, turning over his shoulder to the cabinet with the cups. "Yeah, glasses and bowls are over here and the plates are on the other side of the stove top. Silverware are in the drawer next to the bar, next to the dishwasher." The older man took two cups from the shelf and placed them on the counter and grabbed the milk from the fridge, filling the cups before he put the substance away. "So, you're leaving tomorrow to see your mom?"
Spencer nodded, taking the glass from Derek when the latter handed it to him. "Yes; probably sometime around noon, since my plane doesn't leave until 3:15. Then again, that'll accumulate to around 3:47, but I don't want to be late even if the plane is."
Morgan chuckled at his proximity and took a sip of the beverage in hand. There was nothing better than milk with cookies, especially around the holidays.
"So do you drink soda?" Morgan asked the autodidact. The younger man's eyes shot to him above the rim of the glass.
He pulled the cup away and licked his lips clean before answering: "No, I drink coffee, milk, and water. Sometimes a juice box if I'm visiting Henry, but that's it."
Morgan raised his eyebrow in feigned disbelief. "Really, kid? That seems weird, even for you."
Reid sighed. "I'll have you know, juice and soda have a lot of unnecessary sugars and flavor substitutes, and water, coffee, and milk are mainly pure, besides the fact that milk is only a small percent of actual milk and the rest of it is water. And anyway, do you know how many additives they even put in apple juice-"
"C'mon, Reid, don't ruin juice for me." Morgan chuckled but Reid's face remained calmer than one could believe.
"It's better to know than to never find out," he replied, taking another small sip of the milk he was holding. "Besides, milk's good for your bones. Calcium, Morgan, calcium."
Morgan almost cracked up at that. He didn't even know what was funny; maybe the way Spencer said it, possibly what the genius said. Hell, he didn't know. Reid just made him laugh.
"Stop laughing at me, Morgan," Spencer said seriously, putting his cup on the counter and started to walk back to the guest room.
"Hey, Reid," Morgan called after him, placing the glass down next to Reid's. "I wasn't laughing at you," he continued, making his way after the genius.
The younger man turned around, whipping his head to stare into Morgan's eyes. "You have been since I got here; is everything I do funny to you? Maybe I should just leave."
"Spencer," Morgan said, earning a serious glance from the autodidact. "I didn't mean to hurt your feelings or anything and I'm sorry if I did."
Spencer Reid looked at him hard but not cold. "You called me Spencer."
"You were going to leave," Morgan said, trying to shrug it off as nothing.
The genius watched him, not taking that as the answer. "You really don't want me to leave, do you?" When the older man said nothing and averted his eyes, Reid decided he could continue. "Morgan, you can't just leave it at that. That's like saying something and then muttering never mind. It annoys the heck out of everyone. Tell me why. Please."
Derek Morgan looked back at the younger one, eyeing his curiously. "You know as well as I do. It's the same reason you're here."
"Same reason I'm here? Morgan, I'm here because my furnace went kaput. That's it."
Derek's eyebrows rose once again. "Don't try and fool me kid. You're here for the same reason I want you to stay. It's pretty obvious."
Reid stared at the other agent like a deer in the headlights. "Why then, Morgan? Tell me why I'm here. Tell me why you want me to stay."
Derek pushed forward, pressing his chest against Spencer's, his lips pulsing on the younger man's.
'That was it, huh?' Spencer said to himself, not pulling back or pushing harder against the other. He smiled though, from under Morgan's lips as he shut his eyes, and finally kissed the older man back.
Excited and shocked, Derek's eyes shot open and he watched the genius press his lips onto his and even though he knew they'd need to talk later, he told himself to save that until then and shut his eyes once more, continuing to kiss the other man.
And still, from down the hall, the two of them could smell the essence of sweet perfection.
Spencer watched Morgan bend over to reach into the oven, taking out the contents and placing them on a counter towards the back of the kitchen. The young genius had enjoyed spending his evening with one of the best men he's ever known, even if the latter was mainly working around the kitchen or cleaning the apartment in which they both were in.
The younger one tugged some of his brown curly locks back behind his ear and smiled when certain songs started to play on the radio. He never really enjoyed Christmas carols, so it was nice to know that Derek didn't either and the two of them decided together on another genre of music. Not Derek's rap or Reid's adult contemporary, but the rock essence of groups such as Linkin Park, Blink-182, and Green Day. Neither of them had a problem with the said bands, and there wasn't anything to argue about, so it altogether made the evening a little more, what should I say, enjoyable for the two of them.
Spencer particularly enjoyed the Broadway version of Green Day's American Idiot album. His favorite tracks would probably be named off as 'Boulevard of Broken Dreams' and 'Wake Me Up When September Ends'. Then again, the main reason for that was because Morgan would fumble around in the kitchen singing Johnny's lines.
"So, what does your family do for the holidays?" Reid asked, breaking the silence that had settled between them.
Morgan glanced at him as he continued to work, but turned away as he answered the question. "Well, ever since my dad died, it's always been me, my mom, and sisters. Once in a while my mom's sister comes over and brings her kids and husband. Those years we do this secret Santa kind of thing. Everyone gets their designated person something they'd like and enjoy throughout the year to come. It's gotten old over the years, but now it's mostly just my sisters and mom and spend Christmas with. The rest don't come around anymore." He stirred food that was settling along the bottom of a pan. "What about you? Did you and your mom do anything special?"
"Well," Spencer started, watching the table intensely. "I used to make ornaments at school for her, but after I kept moving up grades it got a little harder. Making your mom things in middle and high school looks a little weird, even if you're between the ages of nine and twelve. And anyway, I didn't really take art classes in high school… My strengths are on the other side of my brain."
Derek listened to him, trying not to get too distracted while cooking.
Meanwhile, Spencer was stuck down inside his past memories, watching the holidays he spent with his mother flash before his eyes and he realized how unhappy growing up fast had made him. He never got a chance to be that dorky kid singing really loud at an elementary school Christmas program. He felt odd but sometime he wished he could have another chance at being a kid… Even if it was just for a day…
A clash on the floor woke Spencer up from his rambling thoughts, and he stood up from behind the bar and looked down onto the kitchen floor. "What happened?" he asked, watching the floor for some sort of clue to the situation.
Morgan stood up from picking up the pan he was going to use to cook the two of them chicken in. "It's nothing," he replied to his friend, glancing towards the stove where the food was sitting. 'Time to get a new pan,' he thought to himself, placing the fallen one into the right side of his sink and moved towards the cabinets along the far east wall to grab another dish to cook his food in. "Don't worry about it Reid, I just dropped a pan," he continued, pulling a glass container out of the low cabinet, taking it into grasp with one of his arms.
The younger man stuck out his bottom lip. He hated just sitting around, not being able to help the other with anything. He was already at Derek's house, having him cook, and now he couldn't help? He could have it. There wasn't going to be a question about that. "I'll wash the pan," he told the other, standing up from the bar stool and moving into the kitchen.
Morgan's arm stopped him, blocking the path Reid wished to take. "Nice trying, kid, but you're not helping me. I'm going to cook us a nice dinner and then you can get your stuff ready for tomorrow; shower and stuff."
Spencer took a step back, thinking for a moment. "What am I supposed to do then?"
"Just sit down and talk to me. I think the silence is slowly killing the both of us," Morgan answered, moving back towards the stove as he placed the chicken inside the new pan and began to dress it.
The genius stood there for a few moments before moving back towards the bar. He continued watching the kitchen, watching Morgan, before glancing into the living room upon which his entire face lit up.
"Oh my gosh, Morgan, it's snowing!"
Reid pretty much galloped into the room and perched himself right beside the window, watching the small flakes decorate the ground in what seemed to be the perfect winter snow. He grinned when a couple hit the window, creating small trickles of water down the paned glass.
Morgan chuckled to himself, placed the meat inside the oven, and set the timer all before joining Reid next to the portal to another world. "Beautiful, huh?" Derek asked, earning a glance and grin from the younger agent.
Spencer turned his eyes back to the outside world, though, continuing to watch the perfect idea of a hazard-less snow. After a couple moments of silence, he decided to speak up. "Where does this leave us, Morgan?"
Even though the genius's eyes remained fixated on the weather, Derek looked over and down to Reid, trying to understand what the latter wanted. He then realized he couldn't profile the back of a head. "I guess it really depends on where we want to go with it," Morgan responded, giving off a shrug.
"Well," Spencer started, keeping his attention on the snow, "I'd like to take it as it comes. There's no reason to force anything out. What about you?"
Derek hadn't really thought about that. What did he want out of a relationship with Spencer Reid? Sex, obviously: he'd been dreaming of screwing this tight younger man since day two of the job. Maybe he could get kinky with the kid. He wanted someone to be able t talk to, to care for, someone that would care back. But what else?
He wanted love.
"I want to spend the rest of my life with you, Reid."
Spencer glanced up to the other agent, giving him a smile. "I guess let's start with that." He leaned up from his position on the ground, getting closer and closer to Morgan's face, ultimately placing his tender lips to the older man's, holding them together for moments of pleasured silence before pulling them apart. "And if we're going to start hanging out like this, you need to start calling me Spencer. I want the relaxed Derek Morgan, not Supervisory Special Agent Derek Morgan." He shut up, pressing himself back into Morgan until the latter pulled away.
"Same thing here. No more 'Morgan'; you call me Derek. At work, we'll go back to Reid and Morgan, but not when it's just the two of us. Okay?"
The genius nodded, smiling. "You have no how happy that makes me, Derek," he said, kissing the older man again.