Author Mentions: I wrote this is fifteen minutes. Sorry for any mistakes. Song is Stronger by Demi Lovato. Thank you for the great love.
Rated: T - M
Pairing: Morgan/Reid
Disclaimer: I own twenty-six pairs of shoes, a really nice down comforter, and a piece of cake. But no, no Criminal Minds.
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Stronger
the night is getting darker
"What planet is this guy from?"
It takes something like that. Small and undermining. It's then easy to find those demons you left in high school. They slither and curl in your intestine, freezing you in your exact train of thought, and you can no longer move. An accurate mixture of pity, revulsion, hurt and fear steams inside of you, accelerates your pulse and increases your blood pressure, the nervous habit of rubbing your index finger against your thumb starts to fixate. You have no idea how to answer.
"You think that's funny? Your friend died because of this." So Morgan steps in for you. God, you can barely stand to look at him anymore. Not since everything that had happened between you two. In your paralysis, you can suddenly remember every smooth touch, every passionate kiss. Your face grimaces and inwardly you shudder. The intimidation radiating from Morgan gives you the strength to move, to breathe, to think again. By then you're is free from the trap and you're already jumping back, already discussing the connection between the trachea and the lungs.
And then, the kid in the corner jumps up and runs, and Morgan takes after him, and you run outside the door to call for a cop to sit with the class before taking off after Morgan. You can't help but keep track of the way his shoulders shift when he gallops, the hastiness of his yells becoming louder and louder in your ears. He jumps, he falls, and you're there in a second.
"You okay?" You say, not baring to come any closer, let alone put a hand on him, reach out and help him stand up. Morgan shoots him a look of resentment, quickly covered by a grimace of fake pain.
"Yeah, yeah," He mutters gruffly, taking the kid by the scruff.
"Look," You point to his neck, the strange orange and purple color peaking out from underneath his Gothic necklace. Morgan shoots you another look, but then pulls back the collar. Sure enough it's littered with bruises, all in different stages of healing.
When the case is finished, you can barely keep your hands from shaking. You rub your fingers together, bite your lip until you can feel is cut open a little bit. Out the window the plane is shifting slowly through the clouds. And you can feel him behind you, his music humming, his eyes fixed on the same view you just saw a second ago.
You can't help but feel it. You can't help it.
It was you in the first place that called it off. After Garcia started to hint that she knew, you couldn't take that feeling of being separated, because relationships at work are strictly and coherently prohibited. You couldn't risk to lose him, after your mother, and your father, and the only friend you had before the BAU. So you broke it off with him, told him you loved him and that you couldn't be with him, you just couldn't end up coming out in the public.
He took it stoically, and you know that's certainly a bad sign, because Morgan's an internalizer, and he used to always tell you about six or seven things that were bothering him at one time when you could catch him being vulnerable. Even then, some of these things seemed of no grave importance to you, as some had happened several weeks ago, or even months, but you knew to Morgan they held the greatest significance. So when he seemed to look at you with dead eyes, you know you had broken his heart. You could feel your own breaking in the process.
It's been at three months and twenty-six days, and it feels like eternity without him. It's a proven study that people with seldom to no social activity always take the end of a relationship, no matter how petty, or how deep it was, very hard. You could feel the loneliness seep into your body, every waking minute a small ache in your back, perhaps the calves. It's not clever-lonely, like Morrissey, and it isn't interesting-lonely, like Radio head. It was loneliness only you knew: the way it feels when you're being hugged and somehow that makes you even sadder. You can feel it sit on your chest, but unlike the caged bird, you have lost your voice to sing.
So it's practically more than pathetic that you're at his door, right now, and you'd take the bus and leave, right now, but the weather is tragically horrible. You're here, you're here, and the need is burning in your every wake right now. He answers the door with a look of angered confusion, but behind that, sadness. And it breaks your heart. It truly breaks your heart.
You speak first, because he won't let you in, and you can't leave now. "Please. I can't...I figured that - well, You know how subatomic particles don't obey physical laws? They act according to chance, chaos, coincidence. They run into each other in the middle of the universe somewhere...and then, energy! That's us. Energy."
"Reid...," He starts slowly, rolling his neck and looking possibly more pained. Another crack.
"No. I love you. I'm sorry. But I can't do this without you." You're not sure how that came out, but it was said, and now, you're breathing pretty hard. Because you might just be completely beside yourself, but he needs to know. He needs to know.
"I can't do it, Derek. I can't be without you." You mutter, and before you can turn to leave, before you can take the walk of shame, back to your apartment, where the rain will beat against the window and the bed will be too big for only you, he kisses you. He takes one step out of the threshold and grabs onto your shoulders, pressing his mouth to yours in a flurry of passion you haven't felt in a long, long time, it seems.
He breaks away from you. "This isn't..."
"I love you, I love," You cup his face in your hands, which are wet from the rain. It thunders above, the Virginian sky crackling and rippling with an emotion you can't quite word. He looks into your eyes, and he seems suddenly vulnerable. He stood strangely still for such a large man, like he was in the arms of anything he'd ever wanted. "You."
It's becoming easier to say, like a chant of the song or the rhythm of words you can type on a keyboard. The loneliness that so captured was morphing itself into something powerful, passionate and yearning. That is the beautiful thing about humans, you think. They are both strong and weak at the same time.
You end up stumbling into his apartment, the air was shockingly warm against your wet, rain sodden skin. He is distinctive, and needy again, kissing you with power only you recognize as him. The clothes are shed and you can feel his muscular chest against yours, and this is everything you've been aching for.
When he takes you, you can help but wither and moan underneath him feeling the whole power of the unity of you two, the complex puzzle pieces that fit together perfectly. When he reaches the height of his excitement, you can help but release too, rolling out for under him and breathing hard, your eyes fixed on the white ceiling.
He speaks finally, resting his head on his elbow. In his belated elation, his eyes become half lidded as he stares at you. Even in the falling action of the moment, he seems concerned, like if he gets too close - mentally - you might burn him again. Inwardly you cringe at the thought.
"What about work?" He asks finally.
"I'll take the risk," you say simply. You agreed to this a long time ago when you sat alone in your apartment eating Ramen for the fourth night in a row. "You are more important, to me."
He doesn't say it, but you can feel it. He is the same.
"I love you." He mutters between your skin and his lips, like a small exhale of breathe. You had almost missed it, but it was there. It was there, like you are there, with him, sin and pleasure still tingling on your skin.
It was the very best place you could have been.
and soon the stars will be falling down to rescue us.
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