A/N - My first CM story, inspired by a series of email conversations with lastcrazyhorn. I doubt this was what she had in mind when suggesting I try writing Rossi/Morgan - but I hope it doesn't disappoint too badly. If you want more, please review.
He's the most sensual man Spencer has ever watched. And he watches Rossi. Frequently. Almost obsessively. Watches Rossi reassure Emily with a caress to her lower back that would be sexual harassment from any one else, but is somehow just a casual gesture of friendship from him. Sees Hotch, Hotch who maintains a private personal space that no one invades uninvited, allowing Rossi the physical intimacy of embraces with no reaction other than one of his rare smiles. Hears the warmth in Garcia's voice that makes her entirely professional dialog with Rossi more sexually charged than her blatantly invitational flirting with Morgan. Feels the heat build in himself when Rossi's eyes connect with his own across the conference table. Has to hide a grin when Morgan's aggressively heterosexual body language becomes stiff and forced when confronted with David's comfortable sexual self-assurance.
But Rossi has morals. Lines he never crosses. All the smooth liquid heat that surrounds David Rossi shifts to something more purely fatherly when he slips an arm around JJ. It amazes Reid that Rossi can turn it off like a light switch to deal with a victim, and only a moment later it blazes like a bonfire when all the man does is tilt his head to look at Hotch.
It isn't a secret, exactly, that Rossi is bisexual. Reid spotted it the first week David Rossi walked back in to the BAU. It takes Prentiss and Morgan a week or two longer, and he's certain Hotch already knew. JJ likely wouldn't care if she did notice, and Garcia, she's just as omnivorous in her sexual appetites. The team never discusses it - all the agreement not to profile each other really means is that they never admit what they see. An unspoken sacred trust that lets them stay sane with the knowledge that nothing can stay hidden from each other.
He feels a little guilty for studying Rossi so intently. Like he's breaking those unwritten rules. But he just can't stop. He's jealous, envious, and he just has to see what's inside David Rossi. Jealous that David displays his passion openly, envious that he can't show his team that he, too, would surrender himself to their pleasure if they would give him the chance. Wanting just once to be seen as a man, not a child. To be seen as a lover, not a colleague.
Reid knows he would have missed the signs if he hadn't been observing so closely. Might not have seen how Morgan changes from rigidly uptight to warmly relaxed around Rossi. Might have missed how David suddenly knows exactly how Morgan likes his coffee, and the perfect time to stop by his desk in the bullpen with a refill. Might have overlooked how Morgan's eyes linger on Rossi walking up the stairs to Hotch's office, or how David swaggers just a little more when he knows Morgan is watching him.
Images of Derek and David together torment him every night. When he wraps soapy fingers around his own cock he imagines Derek on his knees, David driving himself balls deep into those dark lips. He wakes from dream images of Morgan pushing those big fingers into Rossi, David's usual eloquence reduced to animal grunts and pleading for "more" and "harder". Plays over and over in his mind the picture of Derek begging to be allowed to come while David pounds into his ass. Can almost hear the wet slick sound of sex and smell the sweat-soaked sheets when Derek fucks Dave face-to-face, slow and hard, never breaking eye contact, nothing to hide from each other.
Spencer is used to being on the outside, looking in.