"Dilaudid"
Rating: M
Summary: Spencer loves to hate Morgan. Morgan hates to love Spencer. And the dance is just intoxicating. Until the team forces Morgan to battle between his ethics and his desire. Based on song "Dilaudid," by The Mountain Goats.
DISCLAIMER: I do NOT own Criminal Minds or any of the characters.
Author's Note: My husband and I were talking about a couple of the fanfictions I'd been writing. He accused me of being a smut-pusher. I simply told him that I would gladly be a smut-pusher for the rest of my life.
"I hate you."
The words bit at Morgan's self-esteem with a violent agenda. He basked in Spencer's emotional unavailability and found that he pined not to change a thing. He let his sword and shield fall by his side the fight in his heart flew away like a bat out of hell, tearing through his trimmed chest leaving mortal wounds. The broken hero lay limp in the hands of his Goliath praying for a brutal embrace, and the repeated phrase to remind him that he was an object. Not a hero, just a monster's toy. He could not be the love of the drugged Spencer's life, but he would rather be the battered affair to him than the lover of the meek sober man that Tobias Henkel rid him of long ago. The younger man pulled him into a take-no-prisoners kiss. The inhale was absolutely cathartic. Derek could feel tears well up in his eyes as his heart pounded against his wounded sternum with twisted joy. A sob in his throat made his body wrench against his desirable attacker. The man pulled apart shaking him. Then teased him for being weak, roughly tearing the tears from Derek's face before attacking his lips once more.
He stared into Spencer's crystaline eyes as they glared into his face. There was something like iron on his tongue. He then realized the blood dripping down his lip from the ferocity of Spencer's teeth from the breath-taking liplock. His neck strained as he realized Spencer's grip on his shirt had him on his toes. He felt bruised and bullied. His head whirred from the sudden chemical rush of anticipation, branching out to every stem of his body. He needed more of this violent romance to fulfill an ache in his soul, a flush of heat in his groin. An odd moan of pleasure and pain escaped the man as his blond counterpart punched him roughly in the gut pinning him harder to the wall.. That's right. Make me work for it. Make me suffer for it. It was a dark and confusing thought to the black man but he embraced the addictive feeling, gripping it tight with mortal fear to lose it somehow.
The blond male continued to lace Morgan with brutal kisses down his neck. He caressed his jawline with his teeth, teasing it with his tongue. His hands smoothly abandoned his battered lover's collar, roughly invading the inside of his shirt. Shivers rushed up Derek's spine, and suddenly a sharp pain forced him to lurch forward. He winced as he imagined his skin curling under the piercing might of Spencer's nails. The heat between there bodies was rising to feverpitch levels, and Morgan lunged for it over and over. He lapped at this lover's tongue, begging for more. More affection. More brutality.
The younger agent was out of control. His misplaced rage begged to stretch across Morgan's entire canvas. Spencer couldn't do enough to Derek to tell him how angry he was. Why did Morgan have to interfere so much? The older man needed to be punished for coming between Spencer and his addiction, for condescending Spencer, for calling him weak, for pitying him. The mix of old admirations and rage came to a boil over a crisp harvest night in his foyer. He would show Derek the price for creeping into his den. He tore of Derek's shirt and threw it to the ground. Morgan mewled with delight as his fingers rimmed the buttons of Spencer's shirt. Derek's eyes looked up into Spencer's, pleading permission to strip him of his tight second skin.
"Very slowly," Spencer tauntingly whispered. He allowed his lover to pull the buttons from there place one at a time, but scolded him for going to fast. The urge to see Spencer's gorgeous matte skin was suculent torture but Derek's wincing was getting Spence hot and impatient. He tore his shirt off his shoulders, denying his bruised lover the pleasure of it all. The lust and despise was cofusing and conflicting but was still somehow working in Spencer's favor against Derek.
Derek lunged for Spencer's collar bone, throbbing with need to taste his magnificent flesh. The older agent was discouraged as Spencer roughly threw him back against the wall by the shoulders. Spencer flipped his larger counterpart, pressing his face hard against the wall before pinning his lover's wrists to his lower back. He buckled them in the handcuffs on his belt and threw Derek onto the stairwell.
"Crawl," his cruel voice smoothly glided through the air.
The ever athletic Derek Morgan wouldn't find this a very difficult task, if not for his massive arousal. He wretched against the wooden stairs, kicking up the incline as Spencer menacingly loomed over him from behind. Derek bit the top of the stairs triumphantly, and Spencer picked him up by his bound wrists, leading him forcefully into his bedroom. Derek fell onto the bed on his stomach, wriggling underneath his restraints. He longed to be released, so he could pleasure Spencer's every whim. He winced for the younger agent's attention, but the blond male simply gawked at Derek's struggling form.
Spencer licked his lips, grinning down at his striking catch. He made sensual strids past his lover's eyeline, making sure he was watching him advance for his nightstand. Slowly the younger man pulled his gun from it's holster, laying it on the stand, barrel facing the struggling man. He then undid his belt and lowered his jeans to the floor. Derek inhaled sharply as his throbbing arousaly strained against the mattress. His dry eyes attempted to make clear what he was pulling out of the drawer. His mind lulled into fantasies of lubricated penatration. Of the heat engulfing his body as his limbs stretched for the starless ceiling.
Derek could feel the cold handcuffs unbuckle against his wrist. His aching stems were set free. The younger agent through the elder onto his back and stradled him as to pin his aching lower body to the bed. A yellow thread fell onto Derek's taught caramel chest. Spencer extended his left arm to the man beneath him.
"Tie my tourniquet," he demanded coldly. The older man obeyed. "Tighter." Spencer looked at him with unsatisfaction. Derek cringed as the vein stuck out at him, thriving against the fresh holes in his lover's arm. The younger man took the needle from the sheets and scraped it playfully along Derek's chizzled abs before loading it up with the addictive serum. Spencer's eyes rolled back as he stuck himself with the precious liquid. His mind raved from the sudden rush. He threw the sharp dangerously aside to viciously maul Derek's lips, pinning his arms over his head. Derek's wrists bruised as Spencer clenched them harder than the cuffs ever could, as if Spencer was afraid to let this moment slip through his fingers.
Spencer slid his slender hands down Derek's tortured arms, trailing his way down his smooth torso. He finally let got to fumble Derek's pants off his rugged legs. Derek's eyes pinched closed as the tears stung at his torn face. His rapid heard loudly begged Spencer to be far from gentle. His captor silently obliged. Spencer reared back, slamming into his unprepared lover without mercy. Derek unleashed a high-pitched yelp into the empty chamber. Spencer's shoulders rolled back as a drop of sweat beaded down the nape of his neck. He let out a low groan of satisfaction and continued to thrust ruthessly into the writhing man beneath him. Derek gripped the sheets.
"Aah God Spencer! Yes!"
"Mmmn, you're pretty tight for being such a whore Derek," Spencer teased.
"A whore?"
"Yes Derek. Why else did you come here, begging me to put you in your place." Spencer pushed hard and Derek let out a painful moan of appreciation.
"Yes Spencer. I wanted this! I want this so bad...AAah!" Derek's eyes rolled to the back of his head as his hips bucked inevitably against Spencer's cock. He had no room to be prideful. He wanted more of this. He wanted this every night, and he would give this new, terrible monster Spencer had become anything he wanted to get it.
The autumns night's rustling leaves stopped tumbling across the Virginia roads and stood silent for a moment. The full moon lowered onto the swollen bosom of the horizon as the early morn was set to begin. An angst ridden slave called out to his master, before collapsing shamefully satisfied onto a sweat layered bed. He was a whore, an enabler, and perilously in love.